One of the most notable, yet lesser-known locations in Hikone by students is the island of Chibuku, nestled deep within the heart of Like Biwa. While barely visible from the shore — if at all — a mere 10-minute bike ride from JCMU is the Ohmi Marine Hikone Port, a small facility that hosts a ferry taking guests to and from the island. 

The boat itself is similar to the island, small but charming. A little two-story red passenger boat emblazoned with gold accents that every hour or two will set sail from the port in Hikone out to the island. When I embarked on the voyage, as with many early summer days in Japan, the weather was gorgeous, with a sky as clear and blue as the waves rolling underneath the boat. I spent the first thirty minutes or so on the lower floor, enjoying the comfortable indoor seating and catching up on sleep with my head up against the window. However, as we drew closer. I made my way to the open air second floor to get a better view of our destination.

While small in circumference, the Island is inhabited by a dense, interweaving web of staircases leading to numerous different shrines and temples. Walking past the small strip of trinket stands and food stalls, the beauty of the island is laid bare, with a massive stone staircase guiding all manner of people up into the thick forest that covers the entire island, and then off down numerous branching pathways, after having first cleaned their hands at the Chouzu-ya. Chouzu-ya are large basins of water, above which a ladle rests on pieces of bamboo or wood. Visitors will then use the water to purify themselves before entering. This is a common practice, and Chouzu-ya will be seen at the entrance to most every religious site in the country.

Entering the island feels as if you were taken not just across the lake but back in time, dropped off in a dense forest with only ancient mossy stone steps to guide your way upward on your pilgrimage. After beginning the ascent, the only thing to guide you is a sense of determination as you take one of the winding trails to the various landmarks, with some paths on the sides of walls looking directly out over the lake, making it an equally gorgeous and confusing maze to navigate. Even electricity is a concept that barely exists on the island, as outside of the bathroom and small shops at the port there is barely any notion of modern technology.

On a whim after having climbed up the stairs a bit, I strolled down one of the pathways and came into view of a huge statue of the Buddhist Figure Fudo Myo-o, bathed in fire and surrounded by an array of red banners covered in Japanese text. He is a common image in many religious sites throughout Japan. Standing three to four feet tall and with the fire around the figure painted in bright reds and oranges, it was certainly imposing to chance upon strolling through the island.

Across the way from the statue of Fudo Myo-o was a small open-air structure, a vibrant orange and yellow in stark contrast with the surrounding greenery.
​​​​​​​Within this building were a couple spots for worship and an omamori (Shinto or Buddhist charms) stand, and in the center a massive stack of red pear-shaped dolls. Patrons would write their name and requests on slips of paper, insert them into the dolls, and then toss them into the stack in hopes of being heard by the divine. These offerings and religious practices are everywhere to be found on the island, with a near endless amount of different omamori to purchase intended for all manner of uses, incense to burn in one of the lower temples, offertory boxes scattered throughout the island, and bottles of alcohol left at the foot of many religious structures as offerings.

Heading up higher a little bit farther, I ran into one of the highest structures on the island, a massive dark wood shrine with conservative gold trim and a courtyard of stone in the center. To the right was a wooden deck overlooking the lake with a small offertory stand, and to the left a massive shrine with its interior hidden behind blue draperies. While discouragingly at the top of yet another set of stairs, many people of all ages still made the climb up to toss a coin into the offertory box, ring the bell, and pray to the Kami. Off to the side of the shrine, a pen of small dogs guards a statue of a kappa, some of the few permanent residents of the island. These dogs get to receive a different kind of daily worship, as most of the tourists would pay them a visit, doting and petting them after visiting the shrine. 

On Chikubushima, the historic relationship between Shintoism and Buddhism is laid bare, preserved and protected for hundreds of years by the expanse of water between it and the mainland. For the vast majority of Japan’s history, and even in large part still today, the lines between Shintoism and Buddhism are nearly non-existent, a fact that is shown not only conceptually but literally as torii gates guide you down paths to vibrant Buddhist temples or as Fudo Myo-o stands mere feet away from a huge Shinto shrine. The patrons of the island also seemingly put little emphasis on the distinction between the two, visiting and worshipping at the temples and shrines equally. This is the beauty of the island beyond just the scenery, it serves as a historic microcosm of religion in Japan, and in a small location so much can be observed and understood about both Shintoism and Buddhism. 

For both those interested in Japanese religion and those simply interested in an adventurous day trip, Chikubushima is without a doubt worth the cost of the ferry ride over.