Temple Hopping in Nara

Greetings from ancient Nara, my history-loving friends! A short train ride from Osaka brought me to Japan's first permanent capital, a city where thousand-year-old temples share space with over 1,200 free-roaming deer. Yes, deer. Just wandering around like they own the place—which, spiritually speaking, they kind of do. These deer are considered sacred messengers of the gods, and they have been protected here since the eighth century. They're also hungry, persistent, and completely unafraid of tourists. Or cacti. Especially cacti, apparently.

The deer situation required immediate management. Vendors sell special "shika senbei" (deer crackers) for about 200 yen, and the moment you purchase them, every deer in the vicinity knows. They know. They have a network. I was surrounded within seconds by approximately fifteen deer, all bowing at me—yes, the Nara deer have learned to bow for treats, which is both adorable and slightly intimidating when you're being bowed at by a mob. I distributed crackers as quickly as possible while trying to protect my more sensitive spines. One aggressive deer nibbled my arm. I survived. She got extra crackers. Boundaries were established.

Todai-ji Temple houses the world's largest bronze Buddha, and I was not prepared for the scale. The Daibutsu (Great Buddha) is fifteen meters tall, which is impressive enough in photos, but standing at its base, craning upward, you understand why people have been making pilgrimages here for 1,200 years. The Buddha's expression is serene, almost compassionate. One hand is raised in a gesture of reassurance. I felt reassured. I'm a cactus, and I felt spiritually comforted by a bronze statue. Japan does things to you.

Beyond the famous temple, Nara rewards wandering. I found quiet forest paths leading to smaller shrines, stone lanterns overgrown with moss, and clearings where deer rested in dappled sunlight. Kasuga Taisha shrine is approached through a corridor of 3,000 stone lanterns donated by worshippers over centuries. At dusk, volunteers light the lanterns during special festivals, creating an otherworldly glow. I wasn't there for a festival, but even unlit, the lanterns created a powerful sense of accumulated devotion—centuries of people coming here to pray, hope, and offer light.

The contrast between Nara and Tokyo is striking. Where Tokyo is all speed and noise and novelty, Nara moves slowly, content with its age, comfortable being a city of temples and deer and ancient things. People walk slower here. Conversations are quieter. Even the deer seem more contemplative (when they're not mugging tourists for crackers). It's easy to imagine what Japan was like before modernization, before bullet trains, before convenience stores on every corner.

If you're visiting the Kansai region, don't skip Nara. It works as a day trip from Osaka or Kyoto, though staying overnight lets you experience the town after the tourists leave, when the deer settle down and the temples empty out. Buy the deer crackers—it's an essential experience—but distribute them quickly and strategically. And spend time at the smaller temples, not just the famous ones. Japan's spiritual heart beats strongest in quiet places, away from crowds, where the incense smoke rises and the only sound is wind in ancient trees. 🌵🦌🇯🇵