Exploring Isasumi-Jinja 👹🍣🎎 Wonderful Japan

For many people outside the country, Japan is still considered one of the most modern countries in the world. Even though other nations have now surpassed Japan in terms of modernity, many people continue to associate this Far Eastern country with progress and innovation. And that is still true today, at least in part. But a look behind the scenes sometimes reveals a surprisingly different picture.

When I first set foot on Japanese soil, I didn't really know what to expect. But I soon fell in love with this country, which ultimately led me to come back and stay longer. And this enthusiasm now encompasses so many different areas that I find it difficult to say what I like best here.

Nowadays, however, I am less drawn to modern cities, even though Tokyo is still my favorite city number one. Unfortunately, I don't get the opportunity to visit the Japanese capital very often, which makes me quite sad at times. But to compensate that feeling, I am often drawn to the more rural Japan these days, and to the coasts and to places closer to the heart of the country.

It is probably the special atmosphere that you encounter in these places and that accompanies me there that has increasingly captivated me. I also feel very comfortable in the countryside and in nature—and Japan has plenty of both to offer.

Away from the well-known places and paths, I have been able to discover and experience quite a few things. And over the last few years, I have grown increasingly fond of this fascinating country in the Far East. And in places where most people, locals and international visitors alike, don't go, Japan is often at its most authentic and always has a lot of interesting and beautiful things to offer.

And it always fills me with joy when I get to discover and explore some of this unique beauty on our excursions and trips. I have already shared quite a few pictures and impressions with you here in this blog, and today I would like to take you on another little tour. I want to explore a shrine that is quite far off the beaten track, and therefore a place where most tourists won't go.

However, just take it easy. As always, you are invited to sit back, relax, and follow me...

Today we are back in the Aizu region, in the far west of Fukushima Prefecture. I have visited this area north of Tokyo several times in recent years and which has become quite familiar and dear to me.

The region is known for its deep-rooted samurai history, impressive nature, and traditional crafts, and is a worthwhile destination for anyone who wants to experience authentic Japan. In the center of Aizu lies the city of Aizuwakamatsu, the former seat of the samurai clan, which ruled this area until the end of the Edo period. One of the last battles of the Boshin War took place in that city, which still seems to shape the identity of the region today.

And here in Aizu, I will take you to the Isasumi-Jinja (伊佐須美神社), one of the most important Shinto shrines in the region. It is considered the main shrine of the former province of Iwashiro and is now classified as a Kokuhei Chūsha, a shrine of national importance.

And it is precisely this shrine, located in the small town of Aizumisato, that we want to take a closer look now. As usual, at the entrance we are greeted by a large red gate, a torii, behind which lies the spacious grounds of Isasumi-Jinja. My visit was in late autumn, and the weather was rather cool and wet. But that wasn't going to stop me from taking a closer look at this place.

Right next to the red torii gate stand several impressive cedar trees, which lend the whole scene an extremely atmospheric feel. These tall conifers seem to have a very special effect on me, which I noticed once again this time.

The origins of the shrine are said to date back over 2,000 years and are closely linked to the legend behind the naming of the Aizu region. According to this story, four military leaders were tasked with uniting the territories that would later become Japan. Two of them—father and son—met after their successful mission on the banks of a river, which was henceforth called “Aizu,” composed of the characters for ‘meeting’ (会) and “riverbank” (津). At this symbolic place, they prayed to the god of land development, and it is said that the Isasumi Shrine was then built there.

Isasumi-Jinja itself was probably founded around 560 AD and is located on the banks of the Miya River, a tributary of the Agano River, which flows from the Aizu Mountains down to the Sea of Japan.

Soon after the main entrance, there's a small side shrine on the left side of the path, which I definitely didn't want to miss. Here too, you're greeted by a bright vermilion red, a color that dominates so many Shinto shrines in Japan.

To the left and right of the small altar hang numerous ema, small wooden plaques on which visitors write their wishes and hope that they will come true. Faith and superstition are very closely linked here, as is the case in all other religions as well.

Here we see a bronze statue of a lying cow, often referred to as Ushi-zō. Such figures are commonly found in Japan at many shrines and temples, where those cows symbolize patience, strength, and protection.

Many people touch the head or back of the statue and light small candles to ask for wisdom or healing, especially during exams or illnesses.

We continue along the main path and approach the largest building of the Isasumi Shrine, which we can already see ahead of us.

The main gate, also known as Rōmon (楼門), is an impressive example of traditional Japanese shrine gate architecture. It is a two-story structure with a curved roof covered with tiles and marks the transition from the secular to the sacred world.

It's also worth not just rushing through, but stepping aside for a moment to take some time to look at the gate at a whole.

On both sides of the gate passage you will find a statue of a symbolic guardian, which are supposed to protect the shrine from harm and danger.

But since I had come with good intentions, I was allowed to pass through here without any problems.

And now we are standing in front of the current main building, which appears somewhat unimpressive. Parts of the shrine have been destroyed by fire several times over the years, six times in total. The last major fire occurred during the Heisei period, completely destroying the main building, which originally dated back to the Meiji period. Since then, the shrine has been in a somewhat temporary state—the foundation of the main building is still intact, but reconstruction has been difficult, mainly due to a lack of financial resources.

I also took the time to explore the rest of the shrine grounds, which were quite extensive. That's why I didn't take the same route back yet, but first passed through this small gate on the side.

There was a small stone torii gate, behind which I disvoveres another smaller shrine. If you take a closer look at places like this, you can discover many different details and slightly hidden spots, which contribute greatly to the unique atmosphere that emanates from most of Japan's shrine complexes.

But then when I had to turn and go back the way I just came, the path ahead looked even more inviting than the main path at the start. The small lanterns on either side of the way created a very special atmosphere that was hard to escape.

And I had a similar feeling when I then stood in front of this glowing torii gates just outside the actual shrine grounds. Of course, I had to get closer and walk through them - how could I have resisted?

In many Japanese Shinto shrines, you'll find such a classical torii path. The closely spaced gates symbolize the transition from the profane to the sacred – each step through another gate takes you deeper into the spiritual realm.

And these toori also led us to another shrine, marked by a final red gate. Those toorii gates are traditionally made of wood or stone and often painted in a bright red color, which is not only visually striking but also symbolizes protection and purification.

The white paper strips (shide) and ropes (shimenawa) at the gates and also here directly on the two supporting pillars mark the place as particularly pure and sacred.

And then it was time to head back, and I took the same route I had come. Once again, I passed through the many red torii gates, but this time on the other side.

There is something special about walking through those bright red gates. Even I, who am not particularly religious, feel a very special atmosphere that seems to make the place around me much more intense. Perhaps during my time in Japan, I have been able to find a little access to my own spiritual side after all.

At the very least, I quickly become curious when I pass by a shrine I don't know, and it usually doesn't matter how big or small it is. Japanese shrines are not only architecturally impressive, but also deeply rooted in the local concept of rituals and closeness to nature, thus testifying to a strong cultural and religious connection. Isasumi-Jinja is also an important spiritual center in the Aizu region, which as I mentioned has grown very dear to my heart.

That's why I always like to stop at places like here and let some mighty cedars invite me in for a visit. The season doesn't matter at all; every time of the year has its charm. And even though there may not be as many highlights in this region as in other parts of Japan, I'm sure that on my next visit to Aizu, I'll discover and explore something new that I can tell you about at this place.

So be sure to check back here soon for new pictures and impressions from the Land of the Rising Sun. You wouldn't want to miss anything....