We Went Looking for Hydrangeas. We Found a Different Side of Nara.

Sometimes Instagram actually sends you somewhere worth going.

We had been seeing photographs and reels of an extraordinary hydrangea display at a temple deep in Nara.

It was the middle of Japan's rainy season. The skies were grey, the mountains were disappearing into clouds, and hydrangeas were flowering everywhere.

So one morning, we left Kyoto and decided to go and find it.

What we didn't know was that the hydrangeas would end up being only a small part of the day.

Getting There Was Half the Fun

The journey began, appropriately enough for Nara, on a train covered in deer.

There were deer on the outside. Deer inside. Deer on the handles. Even the colours seemed designed to make an ordinary train ride feel slightly ridiculous in the best possible way.

Yash, naturally, loved it.

Outside the windows, Japan was in full rainy-season mode. Rivers were running high. Hills disappeared beneath low clouds. Small towns passed underneath a heavy grey sky.

There are days when rain makes travelling difficult.

And then there are days when it makes the journey.

We changed trains, crossed platforms and eventually joined a queue of umbrellas waiting for the bus that would take us further into the hills.

By the time we climbed higher, the landscape had almost vanished.

Clouds sat inside the valley.

And somewhere inside them was the temple we'd come all this way to see.

Tsubosakadera in the Clouds

The first hydrangeas appeared almost immediately.

They were beautiful.

But then we climbed higher.

Through the fog appeared an enormous stone Buddha, surrounded by hydrangeas.

And suddenly the photographs we'd seen online didn't seem to matter very much.

Tsubosakadera felt almost unreal that morning.

Statues appeared and disappeared through the mist. A pagoda emerged behind flowers. Hundreds of small Buddhas lined parts of the temple grounds. Every few steps the fog rearranged the landscape again.

On a clear day, I'm sure the views across the surrounding mountains are spectacular.

But I'm not sure I would trade the weather we got.

The rain had taken away the view and given the temple an atmosphere instead.

And Then We Started Finding India

This was the part we hadn't expected.

As we wandered further through Tsubosakadera, Yash started spotting things that looked strangely familiar.

Among the Buddhist statues were figures and symbols connecting this little temple in the Nara hills with India.

And then there was the enormous stone Kannon we had been walking towards.

The 20-metre statue wasn't simply inspired by India. It was made in India.

Tsubosakadera's relationship with the country grew through its work supporting people affected by leprosy in India. The temple says the giant Kannon was created from Indian stone with the cooperation of Indian craftspeople before being transported to Japan and assembled here.

For three Indians standing in a Japanese Buddhist temple in the rain, that connection suddenly made the place feel very different.

It was one of those reminders that the relationship between India and Japan is much older and stranger than the modern story of bullet trains, anime and technology through which we often understand the country.

Buddhism travelled from India across Asia before reaching Japan.

And here, centuries later, another little bridge between the two countries had somehow appeared on a misty mountain in Nara.

We found another unusual ritual inside the temple.

I was given a cloth and shown how to clean the feet of a Buddha before praying. The cloth could then be taken home as a blessing.

I folded mine away carefully.

It is exactly the kind of thing we would never have known existed if we'd simply looked at photographs of hydrangeas and left.

Then Everyone Disappeared

When we eventually walked back down from the temple, Takatori felt almost asleep.

Hardly anyone was around.

Yash and I wandered through quiet streets while the mountains of southern Nara appeared and disappeared in the distance.

Then, on the way towards the station, we found a thick bamboo grove.

No crowds.

No queue.

No photographers waiting for the same empty frame.

Just bamboo.

I couldn't help thinking about Arashiyama.

Thousands of travellers cross Kyoto to photograph its famous bamboo grove every day.

And here we were, walking past one almost entirely by ourselves.

I'm not suggesting you travel across Japan just to find an empty bamboo forest.

But this is one of the things I love most about getting away from the obvious route.

You stop travelling between attractions.

You start discovering things between them.

One More Stop

We could have gone back to Kyoto.

Instead, we stopped at Kashihara.

Our first discovery was considerably less ancient than what we were about to see.

A Street Fighter statue.

Of course I stopped for a photograph.

Then we walked towards Kashihara Jingu.

And the mood changed completely.

A huge torii stood ahead of us. Hundreds of lanterns lined the approach. Joggers crossed the enormous grounds as evening began to settle over the shrine.

We washed our hands and walked in.

It was vast.

And remarkably quiet.

Where Japan Begins

Kashihara occupies an extraordinary place in Japan's national story.

According to the tradition recorded in the Nihon Shoki, this is where Emperor Jimmu — regarded as Japan's first emperor — established his palace and ascended the throne.

The shrine we were walking through isn't itself ancient. Kashihara Jingu was established in 1890 during the Meiji period.

But the place it commemorates reaches right back into Japan's foundation story.

That contrast fascinated me.

Earlier that morning we'd boarded a colourful deer train because Instagram had shown us some hydrangeas.

Now, as evening approached, we were standing in a place associated with the beginning of Japan itself.

None of it had really been the plan.

Would We Do This Day Again?

Absolutely.

But not because Tsubosakadera has hydrangeas.

If you go only to recreate the photographs you've seen online, you'll probably miss the best part.

Go because southern Nara feels completely different from the Nara most travellers experience around the deer park and Todai-ji.

Go slowly enough to notice the train journey.

Let the weather change things.

Walk through Takatori.

And if you have the time, continue to Kashihara rather than immediately heading back.

Because the thing I remember most about this day isn't one particular temple, shrine or flower.

It's how one thing kept leading us to another.

A reel led us to some hydrangeas.

The hydrangeas led us to a temple.

The temple led us back to India.

A walk led us into an empty bamboo forest.

And a final train ride took us to the place where Japan says its story began.

Sometimes that's all a good day in Japan needs.

A reason to start.

And enough curiosity not to rush home.

Tsubosakadera or Nara?

For most travellers, this shouldn't really be a choice.

If you're visiting Nara for the first time, we'd still start with Nara Park, Todai-ji and the extraordinary temples and forests surrounding them.

There's a reason they're famous.

Tsubosakadera shows you something different.

It takes you away from the Nara most travellers know and further south, into smaller towns, mountains and places that require a little more effort to reach.

During hydrangea season, however, we'd make an exception.

The flowers transform Tsubosakadera.

Add the rain, low clouds and enormous stone Kannon appearing through the mist, and the temple becomes a reason to make the journey south in its own right.

So if we had to simplify it?

First time in Nara? See Nara.

Ready to discover another side of it? Head south.

Would We Visit Tsubosakadera Outside Hydrangea Season?

Yes.

But we'd probably plan the day differently.

During hydrangea season, Tsubosakadera can be the reason for going.

Outside it, we'd make the temple part of a wider exploration of southern Nara rather than travelling all the way from Kyoto simply to see one place.

Takatori deserves wandering.

Kashihara deserves time.

And Asuka and Yoshino are still sitting there on our map, giving us reasons to return.

That's perhaps the bigger discovery this day gave us.

We went wanting to see Tsubosakadera.

We left wanting to understand southern Nara.

Who Will Love This Part of Nara?

Travellers returning to Japan.

People who have already experienced Nara's famous sights and want to see what lies beyond them.

Temple lovers.

Anyone interested in the connections between India and Japan.

Photographers visiting during hydrangea season.

And travellers who enjoy local trains, buses and days where getting somewhere is part of the experience.

This isn't particularly difficult travel.

But it does require more patience than simply taking a train from Kyoto to Nara and following the crowds.

For us, that's part of its appeal.

Who Might Not?

If this is your first trip to Japan and you only have one day for Nara, we'd probably send you to Nara Park and Todai-ji instead.

If you're looking for a day built around famous attractions with easy connections, there are simpler options.

And outside hydrangea season, we wouldn't necessarily recommend travelling from Kyoto solely for Tsubosakadera without exploring somewhere else in southern Nara as well.

Some places are worth crossing Japan for.

Others become much more rewarding when they're allowed to be part of a larger day.

For us, Tsubosakadera changes between those two depending on the season.

Our Rainy-Season Verdict

Tsubosakadera during hydrangea season is worth the journey.

Absolutely.

But surprisingly, the hydrangeas aren't the main reason we'd return.

We remember the giant stone Kannon appearing through the clouds.

The hundreds of little statues.

Yash discovering familiar Indian gods in a temple deep in Nara.

The strange quiet of Takatori afterwards.

And mountains disappearing beneath clouds as we travelled further south.

Would Tsubosakadera have been beautiful under blue skies?

Almost certainly.

Would we exchange the weather we got for them?

No.

Japan's rainy season is often treated as something travellers should avoid.

Here, it became part of the experience.

The rain didn't spoil Tsubosakadera.

It completed it.

Why It Matters to Beyond Tokyo

There is another reason days like this stay with us.

Beyond Tokyo journeys aren't built by sitting with a map and finding attractions that fit neatly between two cities.

We go somewhere.

Then another place catches our attention.

A train passes through a town we've never explored.

We notice mountains in the distance.

Someone tells us about somewhere nearby.

Or we travel across Nara because Instagram showed us some hydrangeas and come home thinking about an entire part of the prefecture we barely knew.

That's what happened here.

Not everything we discover immediately belongs on a Beyond Tokyo journey.

Sometimes we love somewhere straight away.

Sometimes we decide it isn't worth our travellers' limited time.

And sometimes a first visit simply tells us that we need to come back and look deeper.

Tsubosakadera did that.

We went looking for one temple.

We came back wanting to understand southern Nara.

That's usually how our favourite journeys begin.