Temple of Debod

During our visit to Parque del Oeste in Madrid, we were taken aback by an unexpected sight that seemed to transport us to ancient Egypt. Indeed the ruins we saw were authentic ruins of the Egyptian Temple of Debod gifted by the Egyptian government to Spain.

The Temple of Debod – an ancient Egyptian temple located in Madrid

The Temple of Debod dates back to the 2nd century BC and was originally built in Egypt during the reign of Pharaoh Ptolemy IV. It was dedicated to the goddess Isis and the gods Amun and Horus. In the 20th century, due to the construction of the Aswan High Dam, several ancient Egyptian temples were at risk of being submerged.

The construction of dams along the Nile River carried out by the Egyptian goverment to improve water management in Egypt posed a significant threat to the ancient archaeological sites located in the region. Spanish archaeologists collaborated with local and international teams to conduct extensive research, documentation, and excavation efforts prior to the dam projects. Their expertise helped to identify, record, and relocate numerous Egyptian and Nubian monuments, including temples, tombs, and artifacts, that would have otherwise been submerged by the rising waters.

As a gesture of gratitude for Spain’s help in saving Nubian monuments, Egypt gifted the Temple of Debod to the Spanish government in 1968. The temple was dismantled, transported to Madrid, and carefully reconstructed in the Parque del Oeste, a park near the Royal Palace. The reconstruction took several years, and the temple was finally opened to the public in 1972.

Temple of Debod

Shukubo. The Koyasan Temple Stay Experience

It’s Christmas Eve. A couple of hours ago – around 9 p.m. – I was driving home from a crowded mall. There was no snow, just rain, which felt unusual for Christmas. But the streets were quiet, almost empty. A peaceful drive, with cheerful Christmas songs playing on the radio. As I drove, I found myself thinking about my next trip. Christmas will be spent with family, but New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day I’ll spend with friends – beyond the Arctic Circle in Norway. A bit odd, perhaps – a winter trip to the far North. But in a way, we’ll be having summer in the middle of winter. In just one month, it’ll be the end of the world again – this time in the Southern Hemisphere. In both Norway and New Zealand, I’ll reunite with people I traveled with to Japan last year.

And speaking of that trip, I just realized there’s one place we visited in Japan that I haven’t written about yet on this blog: a sacred mountain called Koyasan. A very different part of the world. They don’t celebrate Christmas there, that’s for sure. Still, I somehow associate it with calmness and serenity.

Belltower at the main temple complex on Mount Koya – Kongōbu-ji.
The only white structure we saw during our entire trip to Japan.

Koyasan, also known as Mount Koya, is the main seat of the Shingon sect, one of the most important schools of Buddhism in Japan. Founded in the early 9th century, Shingon is a form of esoteric Buddhism, known for its use of mantras, rituals, and symbolic imagery as paths to enlightenment. The area is visited by both Japanese pilgrims and foreign tourists, many of whom stay overnight to experience a Buddhist temple lodging – called shukubo in Japanese. The sect was established over a thousand years ago by Kōbō-Daishi, also known as Kūkai (774–835), a Japanese monk, scholar, and mystic. It was he who chose Mount Koya as the secluded and sacred site for the sect’s spiritual headquarters. Today, his mausoleum in Koyasan remains one of the most revered pilgrimage destinations in the country.

Traveling through Japan, you end up visiting many shrines and temples. But there’s a difference between simply visiting… and spending the night. Like many others, we booked an overnight stay in one of the many Buddhist monasteries on Mount Koya. The place is genuinely secluded and remarkably quiet. To reach it, we had to take a mountain railway train – a small local line that slowly carried us up the slope into the mountains.

The train to Mount Koya. The journey lasts a bit more than five minutes.

When we arrived at the Mount Koya railway station, we lingered for a short while. But soon, a local Japanese man approached us and urged us to hurry and catch the bus. We already knew that public transport outside Japan’s big cities tends to shut down by late afternoon. But in Koyasan, the last bus from the station left around 3 p.m. It was packed with tourists, all heading off to experience a night in a Buddhist monastery.

We looked around. The streets of Koya Town were tranquil, almost as if life had come to a standstill.

Koyatown. The first impression. A quiet street. 16:15.

To be honest, my expectations for the shukubo experience were a bit different. I had imagined a place full of monks in orange robes – just like in so many films about Buddhist life – with us quietly standing behind them, allowed only to observe their rituals from a respectful distance. I think I was inspired at the time by an episode of House of Cards, where Buddhist monks were performing a slow, meditative ritual, creating a picture out of colored sand on a table. After a month of careful work, the image was swept away, the sand placed into a pot, and finally poured into a river as part of a ceremonial release.

Our monastery experience wasn’t quite like that. The sect we were staying with turned out to be very small. In fact, we interacted with only one monk and one novice (to use a more European term). We were told that a Buddhist sect can be tiny, and I got the impression that this was, at least in part, also a form of cultural experience for visitors – in a place considered sacred for centuries.

Upon arrival, we were shown to our private quarters – there were only eight guest rooms in our section of the monastery – and then invited to a tea ceremony, during which our monk host explained the house rules. We learned that in about two hours we’d be served a vegetarian meal, followed by a guided visit to Kongobuji Temple, the oldest temple complex in Koyasan. After that, another vegetarian meal would be served. The night curfew was set for 10 p.m., and the next morning, at 6 a.m., we were to attend a Buddhist ceremony.

Since we hadn’t eaten anything since early morning in Kyoto, we decided to grab a bite at a local restaurant. Knowing we had two meals awaiting us at the monastery, we kept it light. In hindsight, that turned out to be a very good idea. That evening, we were served an array of vegetarian delicacies – beautifully presented, but light and subtle in flavor. For us, it was less about being full and more about experiencing Japanese vegetarian cuisine in its traditional, monastic form.

Below are a few photos of our lodging and the meals we were served.

Our monastery experience in Koyasan.
Quiet. Soothing. We didn’t exactly obey the curfew – it felt too early for us.
But imagine fourteen people sitting quietly in one cell, spending the late evening whispering to each other.

In the afternoon and early evening, we had time to explore a bit of Koya Town. There was a kind of small city center, with most of the buildings in traditional Japanese style. Many of them seemed to be connected in some way to monastic life. Koyasan revealed itself as a truly secluded place, where it feels natural to slow down… and take plenty of photos of its picturesque architecture, surrounded by lush greenery. I think it was there that I saw, for the first time, a Japanese person carefully plucking grass from a moss-covered lawn – a small but somehow striking detail.

Just a glimpse of Koyasan and its main temple complex.
It wasn’t particularly difficult to take photos without anyone in the frame – even in the early afternoon.

The first temple complex in Koyasan during our late evening walk. The building is the Kondo Hall. Significant ceremonies are held there.
If I had to do something differently during our evening in Koyasan, I would have taken a tripod with me to the complex. The main buildings are clearly visible, but most of the time you walk along paths marked by small lamps, surrounded by darkness.
As Koyasan is truly secluded, and no other lights are visible in the night, the atmosphere and views are incredible.

I don’t have any photographs from our evening or early morning at the monastery. It felt too private to document. That evening, a small communal bath was made available to us. There were only a few guests staying in our part of the monastery – just two other women, who we think were from the Netherlands. They used the bath earlier, so we had it to ourselves. The hot jacuzzi was a welcome relief for our muscles. After ten days of intense sightseeing and long travel, it felt genuinely soothing. Still, two people from our group asked for a chance to bathe separately, so we took turns. Because of the 10 p.m. curfew, we had to leave the bath earlier than we would have liked. In the morning, we were only allowed to use a shared restroomno showers were available.

The next morning, we were expected to wake up early to attend a religious ceremony held in the sacred part of the monastery. As in many other Buddhist temples and monasteries, we were not allowed to bring cameras – a rule we had already encountered elsewhere. The small hall was dimly lit and filled with an intense, lingering scent. We began with a cleansing ritual, which involved clapping hands, fragrant smoke, and rubbing ash into our palms. Then came the recitation of sutras – a form of sacred teachings or wisdom texts. Our host gave us printed copies in English, which we were asked to recite softly, in a steady, rhythmic voice. The entire ceremony lasted about an hour. I had still hoped we might see more monks, but in the end, it was just our small group and our monk host. There were around thirty people in the hall, most of them appearing to be European or American. Only one Japanese couple was present.

We left the monastery around 10 a.m., collecting our luggage from the main storage area. From there, we set out to visit one of the oldest cemeteries in Japan, located near the resting place of Kōbō-Daishi. The cemetery is enormous and ancient, with many gravestones dating back several centuries. Wandering among the moss-covered monuments and towering cedar trees, you feel the deep sense of history and reverence that surrounds the site.

At the Okunoin cemetery.

Later, around 1 p.m., we boarded the train down the mountain and began our journey back to Tokyo.

Shukubo. The Koyasan Temple Stay Experience

Okunoin Cemetery

When traveling in Japan, visiting Shinto and Buddhist temples can be confusing for someone from a different cultural and religious background due to the language barrier and the difficulty in understanding the artifacts and rituals. When I decided to take a trip to Japan, my knowledge of this country was limited. As the trip was organized by two colleagues of mine, one of which was a graduate in Japanese culture, I entirely relied on them. Only after coming back home, having in mind the observations and hundreds of photos I made in Japan, I started to dig the internet on additional information. Today, a bit longer than a year after we came back, with more than twenty posts on Japan, I finally got to the memories and pictures from Koyasan, and the Okunoin cemetery. While on the spot, I knew only we are on some kind of a sanctuary mountain and came there to spend a night in a temple.

Koyasan is all about the Okunoin Temple, that in fact, is the mausoleum of Kōbō-Daishi, also known as Kūkai (774–835), the revered Japanese monk and founder of the Shingon sect. Kōbō-Daishi, or Kukai, played a pivotal role in the establishment of Shingon Buddhism. Born 774 in what is now Zentsuji City, Kagawa Prefecture, in 804, at the age of 30, he embarked on a journey to China to study Buddhism and esoteric practices. Upon his return to Japan in 806, Kōbō Daishi introduced the profound teachings of esoteric Shingon Buddhism. He founded the first Shingon monastery at Toji in Kyoto, which soon became the epicentre for the propagation of Shingon Buddhism throughout Japan. In 816, Kōbō Daishi chose Mount Koya to established there a mountain retreat of Koyasan (Mount Koya) as the headquarters of the Shingon sect.

For over a millennium, individuals from all corners of Japan have selected the vicinity of Kōbō-Daishi’s mausoleum as their final resting place. A mountain retreat of the Shingon Buddhism with the Okunoin temple evolved into a temple complex amidst the Okunoin cemetery. There are memorials for various historical figures, including feudal lords, samurai, and prominent monks. Today, with more than 200,000 graves and tombstones, it stands as the largest cemetery in Japan, covering approximately 2 kilometers in length. The sacred ground of the Kūkai mausoleum is indeed hidden silently deep inside the cemetery (in facti its its end). The cemetery is considered one of the most sacred places in Japan and is a major pilgrimage site for Buddhists.

We took one of the entrances to the cemetery. The path to the mausoleum, Okunoin Torōdō (the Lantern Path), is lined with tens of thousands of stone lanterns — most enchanting when lit at night. What you see here is a morning photo, so sadly that magic isn’t visible, but in the evening it truly comes alive. We’d seen it the night before, though without tripods I couldn’t capture the moment.

Going at a slow pace, taking short rounds, and making photos took us around forty minutes to reach the mausoleum. If you go directly, you can complete the one km route more quickly. However, it’s recommended to allow extra time to explore the cemetery. On our way, we met monks dressed in the traditional way that was, of course, not that unusual in the whole Koyasan area, for there are more than two hundred small temples located on the mountain.

On the way to the mausoleum, we crossed some newer parts of the cemetery with tombs often decorated with names of famous Japanese corporations. Because of the language barrier, I did not understand whether this was tombs of people important to those companies or the tombs played some other role. Maybe the companies simply sponsored the graves. Still, from the European perspective, it was a bit unusual.

Sometime later, we got to the older parts of the cemetery. The most tombstones and graveyards were left as they were for years (or hundred years) with moss all around them. The views are complemented by the very tall and imposing old cedar trees.

Some statues were covered with vermilion (red/orange) clothing to protect them and the dead. The act of clothing statues, especially those in sacred places like Okunoin Cemetery, is a gesture of respect and reverence. It reflects the belief that these statues embody spiritual entities or deities and should be treated with care and dignity. Bottles of water or soda cans to provide for the dead were left on some graves, as well. By leaving bottles of water, individuals may symbolically provide refreshment for the spirits of the deceased, acknowledging their journey in the afterlife. While water is a symbol of purity, these drinks may serve as a modern way to provide sustenance or comfort to the spirits. It’s a symbolic gesture of hospitality and care for the departed.

Below some photo impressions from the Okunoin cemetery oldest parts.

And finally, we got to a place with plenty of statues and water sinks where you can perform the purifying rituals. From this place on, behind a small bridge, and photography was forbidden. We were supposed to enter the sacred ground of the Kūkai mausoleum. Kukai is believed to be in eternal meditation in the Okunoin Mausoleum, awaiting the arrival of Maitreya, the future Buddha. The Gobyobashi Bridge, also known as the Bridge to Nirvana, is said to lead the deceased across the boundary between the living and the dead.

This was not the first time for us as in a Buddhist sanctuary, we had to obey strict rules. In fact, in all cores of a Buddhist temple, the photography is forbidden. So I can rely only on my memory. The interior of the wooden structure was ery impressive, delighting with both its appearance and the history it concealed. Divided into two main parts, the part serving as a mausoleum and an equally large section where pilgrims could walk alongside the mausoleum and stand down to pray and contemplate.

Besides of candlelight, it was dark inside. In fact, you saw it when each time somebody opened the entrance doors. You felt incense. The interior was full of figures, some of them were golden ones. There were many flowers all around. And a couple of monks were either tidying up or performing rituals. When we visited Koyasan, it turned out that we were there outside the pilgrimage season, which allowed us to experience this exceptional place in peace, in a small group, further enhancing the solemnity of the situation and allowing us to focus on the beauty surrounding us and the spiritual significance of this symbolic place. And all around us was silence.

Okunoin Cemetery