Climb the Way That Suits You

At the eastern edge of Nara Park rises a grassy mountain called Wakakusa-yama. It stands three hundred and forty-two metres high — a gentle hill in three tiers, like three round hats set one upon another, and the topmost tier is called Sanjūme. At its foot are two gates, north and south. You pay a small fee there, and from each gate a path climbs toward the summit.

Enter by the south gate and the way soon opens onto a bare grass slope. Up a steep, mown incline, by steps, straight toward the top. Some people go up like that, out of breath, seeing almost nothing but the ground ahead. Some leave the steps altogether, cutting across the grass on the diagonal, taking the shortest line straight up. Enter by the north gate and the path goes in among the trees, climbing in gentle switchbacks under the shade. Those who choose this way stop around the second tier — to watch the deer crop the grass, or to look down at the streets of Nara widening below — and climb slowly.

Whichever path you take, you come out in time at Sanjūme. On the summit lies an old burial mound, called Uguisuzuka, covered over with turf. Turn around, and the great roof of the Daibutsu Hall, the city of Nara, and beyond it the range of Ikoma all open out in a single sweep. As the sun drops low, the grass takes on a gold cast, and a breeze comes up the slope from below.