One of the things about exploring Japan is that, just when you think you’ve seen everything that a region has to offer, it’ll turn around and surprise you with something new. This recently happened to me on another visit to Tokushima Prefecture on behalf of the local government, with whom I have a direct relationship. Much of this project centered around the Iya Valley. One of the stops they added to my itinerary was the mountaintop temple complex of Hashikura-ji. I have no idea how it took me so long to learn about this amazing place, but suffice to say, I am now a big fan.
If you’ve never heard of Hashikura-ji, know that you’re likely not alone. As just alluded to, even I was unaware of this amazing temple complex until the prefectural powers that be put it on my list of places to visit. According to tradition, Hashikura-ji was founded in 828 by Kobo Daishi (Kukai), the Buddhist monk who established Japan’s Shingon sect. The temple is dedicated to Konpira Daigongen, a deity historically worshipped at Kotohira-gu in neighboring Kagawa Prefecture. This connection helps explain why the temple still retains such a fascinating syncretic blend of Shinto and Buddhist traditions, or Shinbutsu Shugo, to this day.
That connection to Kotohira-gu runs deeper than simply honoring the same deity. Historically, Hashikura-ji was regarded as the inner sanctuary of the famous shrine across the border in Kagawa Prefecture. Whereas Kotohira-gu became a Shinto shrine during the Meiji period (1868–1912), Hashikura-ji retained its older blend of Shinto and Buddhist traditions. Today, that legacy is visible across the grounds, home to six nationally designated Important Cultural Properties. Many of these buildings date to the late Edo period (1603–1868), and their elaborate woodwork is truly something else.
In addition to its ties to one of my favorite shrines, which sits in an area that I count among my 60 trip anchors, Hashikura-ji is absolutely enchanting during the autumn months. As the foliage changes color, the temple’s historic buildings and long stone staircases are framed by brilliant shades of red, orange, and yellow. The surrounding mountains only add to the spectacle, and even the ropeway ride up offers a chance to appreciate the seasonal scenery. If you’re already planning to explore the Iya Valley around this time of year, Hashikura-ji is one more reason to spend a little longer in western Tokushima.
So, all things considered, if you happen to find yourself in this part of Tokushima Prefecture, you’d do well to add Hashikura-ji to your itinerary. Between the sprawling grounds and its connection to one of the most sacred shrines in all of Kagawa Prefecture, there’s plenty here to justify a visit. What’s more, you don’t even really need to hoof it up to the mountaintop temple thanks to easy access via the ropeway. It makes a convenient add-on to any plan that takes you through the Iya Valley, and it won’t eat up half your day.
How to Get There
Let’s pause for a second to cover some key logistics on how to get to Hashikura-ji. To begin with, you’ll have to get out to western Tokushima Prefecture. The best way to do this is usually to fly into Tokushima Awa Odori Airport, take a bus to Tokushima Station, and then ride the limited express Tsurugisan to Awa-Ikeda Station. If you’re already exploring western Honshu, you can catch the limited express Nanpu directly from Okayama Station. As everyone knows, I like spending time on trains, so the latter is obviously my preferred option. Just check a handy service like Jorudan for up-to-date departure schedules.
Once you arrive at Awa-Ikeda Station, you’ll need to make your way to the base of the mountain. The easiest option for those traveling by rail is to hop on a local train along the Dosan Line to JR Hashikura Station. From there, it’s roughly a five- to 10-minute walk to the lower station of the Hashikurasan Ropeway. Alternatively, there’s a local bus from Awa-Ikeda Station that stops near the ropeway entrance. If you’ve rented a car for the Iya Valley, getting here is even easier. The ropeway is only around seven minutes from the Ikawa-Ikeda Interchange, and there’s free parking available at the bottom.
The ropeway journey takes only about four minutes and saves you the trouble of climbing the slopes on foot. As of October 2026, it’s a bit on the pricey side, with a round-trip ticket costing ¥2,000 for adults. Gondolas normally depart every 15 minutes. The first departure is at 8:00 AM from April through November or 9:00 AM during winter, with the last ride down at 5:15 PM. Just don’t mistake the ropeway for a way to avoid all the exercise. There are still several hundred stone steps between the upper station and the highest parts of Hashikura-ji, so leave yourself time to explore the grounds without rushing.
If you’re a glutton for punishment, there’s also the old-fashioned option of hiking up to Hashikura-ji instead of taking the ropeway. Following the historic approach means you’ll pass through the imposing Niomon before continuing up toward the temple complex. This route is especially beautiful during autumn, when the surrounding trees are bursting with seasonal color. That said, this is hardly some leisurely stroll through the woods. You’ll be climbing a mountain, and there’s a good chance you’ll arrive at the top hot and sweaty, so be sure to plan accordingly.
Exploring the Temple Grounds
The ropeway platform sits near Hashikura-ji’s Chumon, or middle gate, so you arrive partway through what was once a much longer pilgrimage approach. Those who hike up pass the Niomon farther down the mountain, but ropeway passengers can head straight into the main precinct. Don’t assume that means you’ve reached the top, though. The temple is spread across a series of terraces, and the most important buildings are still uphill. For now, you’re in the lower part of the complex, where the old wooden halls, stone paving, and surrounding trees make a pretty convincing case for slowing down and having a look around.
One of the first buildings you’ll encounter is the Hojo, a large hall that also serves some of the temple’s administrative needs. Although temple tradition dates Hashikura-ji’s founding to 828, the structure you see here is considerably younger. A fire swept through the complex in 1826, and the Hojo was rebuilt around 1856 as part of the effort to restore the grounds. That same rebuilding campaign produced many of the other halls you’ll encounter on the way up. Keep that in mind as you explore, since much of what looks positively ancient is actually craftsmanship from the closing years of Japan’s feudal era.
Continue on toward the Goma-den and you’ll get a better idea of just how ambitious that reconstruction was. The building is associated with Goma, an esoteric Buddhist ritual in which offerings are burned in a sacred fire while prayers are recited. Even from outside, there’s plenty to appreciate in the hall’s layered roof and carefully worked wooden details. Around this part of the grounds, you’ll also find old stone lanterns donated by members of the famed Ichikawa Danjuro kabuki lineage.
Before tackling the bigger climb, keep an eye out for a statue of Kannon near the start of the stone steps. This particular figure is associated with prayers for protection against age-related forgetfulness, which is a rather specific concern as far as religious requests go. A little farther up stands the temple’s historic Shoro-do, or bell tower, and yes, this is one you’re encouraged to ring before continuing toward the main sanctuary. Instead of swinging a wooden striker, you pull downward on a rope to sound the bell. Once you’ve done that, there’s not much left to do but turn toward the staircase and start climbing.
Up to the Inner Sanctuary
Alas, now comes the part that the ropeway doesn’t spare you from. From the Hojo to the Honden, Hashikura-ji has 278 stone steps, a number that happens to match the full character count of the Heart Sutra when its title is included. In 2019, the temple added a small plaque bearing one character to each step, turning the climb into a physical way of following the Buddhist scripture. If your Japanese is good, you can pause to read them as you go, although the increasing incline might make concentrating on anything other than your legs a bit of a challenge.
The climb isn’t just an uninterrupted stretch of steps, thankfully. As you make your way higher, you’ll pass the Yakushi-do, a hall devoted to the Buddha of healing, along with the Tenjin-sha, a small shrine honoring Tenjin, the deity associated with scholarship. There’s also a statue of Kobo Daishi along the route. Seeing these different places of worship packed together makes the temple’s religious history much easier to understand. The old overlap between Shinto and Buddhism is written into the physical layout of Hashikura-ji, right down to the buildings you pass on the way up.
Eventually, all those steps bring you to the Honden, the main sanctuary and centerpiece of Hashikura-ji. The building is called a Honden, a departure from the more familiar Buddhist Hondo and another reminder of the temple’s unusual religious heritage. Adorned with a pair of imposing Tengu masks, the structure dates to the mid-19th century and combines several interconnected spaces beneath an elaborate arrangement of roofs. Look closely at the carved wooden decorations, which include fantastical figures and intricate details. This is also where Konpira Daigongen is enshrined.
The Honden isn’t the end of the upper precinct, either. Nearby stands the Kannon-do, a hall dedicated to the bodhisattva of compassion, while smaller structures occupy the surrounding mountain grounds. Take some time to explore up here before heading back down the staircase. After all, Hashikura-ji’s appeal comes from the way the halls, shrines, stone paths, and forested setting fit together, particularly when the autumn colors are out in force. Once you’ve had your fill, you can retrace your steps toward the ropeway and spare your knees another trip up the mountain.
The Shikoku Pilgrimage Done Quick
If you’ve spent much time looking into Shikoku, you’ve probably come across its famous 88-temple pilgrimage. Associated with Kobo Daishi, the route circles the island and takes dedicated pilgrims to 88 Buddhist temples spread across all four prefectures. Walking the entire circuit is a serious undertaking, often requiring more than a month on the road. Of course, not everyone has that kind of time to spare, and that’s where a tradition called osunafumi comes in. By visiting a miniature version of the pilgrimage, participants can symbolically make the rounds without actually traversing all of Shikoku.
As luck would have it, Hashikura-ji has its own version tucked away near the upper sanctuary. Head past the Daishi-do, a hall honoring Kobo Daishi, and you’ll find an osunafumi area with stone Buddhist figures representing the principal deities of the 88 temples. The idea is for visitors to pay their respects at each figure in sequence, with sand from the original sacred sites traditionally used to connect these miniature circuits to the real pilgrimage. Keep in mind that Hashikura-ji itself isn’t one of the official 88 stops, though it is part of the separate 20-temple Bekkaku route.
Once you’re finished with the miniature pilgrimage, you can start working your way back toward the ropeway. The stairs nearby lead down toward the Tengu Shrine, so be sure to make that detour on your way back. It’s one more little corner of Hashikura-ji to check out before you leave the mountaintop behind. And if all those stairs have left you feeling a little worse for wear, there’s a really bomb Sanuki udon place down at the base of the mountain. Consider it your reward for putting in the work and a convenient way to replenish those depleted glycogen stores.
More to Miyoshi City
If you’re already making the trip to Hashikura-ji, I’d strongly recommend using it as an excuse to explore the Iya Valley as well. Nestled deep in the mountains of Miyoshi City, this rugged corner of Shikoku is known for its steep gorges, isolated hamlets, and old vine bridges. The most famous of these is Iya-no-Kazurabashi, a suspension bridge woven from mountain vines that looks like something from another century. The valley also has a long association with the defeated Heike clan, who are believed to have fled into these mountains. There’s easily enough here for more than a quick stop.
As for how to combine the two, I’d treat Hashikura-ji as one part of a larger itinerary, with the Iya Valley as the main reason to come all the way out here. You could visit the temple in the morning before heading toward Oboke Gorge on the river banks of the Yoshinogawa and Iya-no-Kazurabashi, then spend another day pushing farther into the valley. There’s the historic Ochiai hamlet, the remote Oku-Iya vine bridges, and enough winding mountain roads to keep you occupied for quite some time. A rental car gives you much more freedom once you leave the main railway corridor, so trying to tick off everything in a single afternoon is asking for trouble.
Before heading farther afield, there’s another stop in Awa-Ikeda itself: the Awa-Ikeda Tobacco Museum. Housed in a former tobacco merchant’s residence and workshop, it tells the story of an industry that once made this mountain town prosperous. Inside, you’ll find old cutting machinery, business records, and other artifacts from the days when shredded tobacco was a local specialty. The building is part of the appeal too, with traditional udatsu firebreak walls that also served as a show of wealth. It’s a short walk from Awa-Ikeda Station, so it’s easy to squeeze in before or after Hashikura-ji.
One last place to consider is Kamo-no-Okusu, a legendary camphor tree over in neighboring Higashimiyoshi Town. Estimated to be around 1,000 years old, this enormous specimen stands 26 meters tall, with branches spreading more than 50 meters from one side to the other. It’s been designated a National Special Natural Monument, and the sheer breadth of its canopy is a sight in its own right. Unlike the mountain temples and deep valleys elsewhere in this article, the tree stands in relatively flat countryside near Awa-Kamo Station. That makes it an easy little addition if your route takes you through this part of Tokushima.
Other Nearby Attractions
One of the reasons western Tokushima works so well as part of a larger trip is that you don’t have to double back once you’re finished exploring. From Awa-Ikeda or Oboke Station, the limited express Nanpu runs north toward Kagawa and Okayama or south through the mountains to Kochi. Both neighboring prefectures are places I’d happily recommend building several days of a Japan itinerary around. That makes Hashikura-ji and the Iya Valley a convenient stop along a longer journey across Shikoku, with places to explore in either direction once you’re done.
Heading north, Kagawa Prefecture is the obvious choice if Hashikura-ji’s connection to Kotohira-gu has piqued your interest. The famous shrine is worth visiting in its own right, though be warned that even more stone steps await you there. Beyond Kotohira, western Kagawa has Marugame Castle, one of Japan’s 12 surviving original keeps, along with Takaya Shrine‘s torii overlooking the Seto Inland Sea. You can also visit the beach at Chichibugahama for sunset before continuing toward Takamatsu and Ritsurin Garden. Just don’t forget to eat an unreasonable amount of Sanuki udon along the way.
Should you instead head south, Kochi Prefecture offers a completely different side of Shikoku. Kochi City makes a sensible base, with its original castle keep, connections to Sakamoto Ryoma, and delightfully boozy Hirome Market. Do yourself a favor and sample the katsuo-no-tataki while you’re there too. Farther into the countryside, the famously blue waters of the Niyodogawa and the waterfalls around Nakatsu Gorge are worth seeking out. There’s also the Shimantogawa, another river known for its low bridges without railings. Unlike the train ride into the capital, these rural outings require considerably more planning.
Whichever direction you choose, I’d resist the temptation to cram everything into a single day. Kagawa’s shrines, castles, and coastal viewpoints are spread farther apart than they first appear, while Kochi’s best natural attractions can be downright awkward to reach without a car. Use western Tokushima as the link between them. That way, a visit to Hashikura-ji becomes more than a quick excursion to a mountain temple. It also slots neatly into a larger journey through some of Shikoku’s most rewarding corners.
Until next time travelers…
