Miyajima: an island where the shrine stands in the tide

The island's proper name is Itsukushima, and it was held so sacred that commoners once approached only by boat, passing beneath the great torii rather than walking onto the shore. That gate still stands out in the water on six enormous camphor-wood legs, held in place by nothing but its own weight and stone ballast. At high tide it appears to float; six hours later you can walk out across the wet sand to the base and see the coins wedged into its cracks. Both versions are worth seeing, which is the strongest argument for staying the night.

Itsukushima Shrine itself is built on piles over the tidal flat, a run of vermilion corridors and a stage where bugaku court dance is still performed. Beside it, the unfinished Senjokaku hall — Hideyoshi died before it was roofed — sits open to the wind next to a five-storey pagoda. The village below smells of momiji manju, maple-leaf-shaped cakes filled with red bean and griddled to order, and of grilled oysters, which the surrounding bay farms in enormous quantity.

Behind the shrine the island rises into forest. Mount Misen can be climbed in about ninety minutes through primeval woodland or shortcut by ropeway, and at the top there are wild monkeys, a flame in the Reikado hall said to have burned since Kobo Daishi lit it twelve centuries ago, and a view across the islands of the Seto Inland Sea. Sika deer wander the ferry pier and will eat a paper map given the chance. In late November the maples of Momijidani turn the whole valley red.