My pilgrimage to Nikko was shrouded in mist. From the Sacred Bridge a carefully constructed stone path cut its way up the hillside, bordered by a forest of towering Cryptomeria cedars. The Toshogu Shrine, a mausoleum for Tokugawa Iegasu and his grandson Iemitsu, who orchestrated the original, is a baroque splendour that greatly impressed me. As the tourists cleared away for the evening, man's solitary insignificance in such natural surroundings is apparent: Tall trees and wide spaces,
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