A perfect little temple, just across the road from Sanjusangendo and so much quieter. I've been twice, fifteen years apart, and it still moves me. No one speaks English, the commentary is on a cassette player, but the painted screens are wonderful as is the blood stained ceiling. The ceiling was once the floor at Fushimi Castle and is the blood of Mototada Torii and his fellow warriors defending it.
I first came when I heard the bell toll and it drew me up the street it's on, a short stroll up the slope to the entrance and a Buddhist nun who refused to let me in as she spoke no English, fortunately a party of elderly Japanese were there one of whom did and I was allowed in. When we departed I gave her the deepest bow of respect I could, that's why I like this little temple so much.
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