Hiking in Yakushima, Japan: forests, monkeys and mountains on an island that inspired a Hayao Miyazaki film

Most of Yakushima was logged at one point, as early as Japan’s Edo period (1603-1867), but the forest has been diligently replanted since logging ended in the late 1960s.

After sailing and docking our boat in the fishing port of Anbo, one of two small towns where most of the island’s 13,486 inhabitants live, we enter the forest at the entrance to the Yodagawa Mountain Trail, with cards found at the tourist office.

The staff promised that if we walked clockwise at a moderate pace for three days, the path would take us past mountain huts where we could find free shelter, across the highest peak in the island and eventually to a bus station, where we could catch a ride back to a hot shower and a cold beer in Anbo.

Our first day of hiking is just an hour’s walk to Yodagawa Hut, where we roll out our mats and sleeping bags.

Yakushima’s mountain huts, each accommodating up to 40 hikers, are very basic; they have demarcated sleeping areas on a wooden floor and a few grimy windows letting in the faint light of the forest. There is no electricity, no cooking facilities, and only one stinking toilet per cabin.

Once settled, we follow the sound of the water to a narrow river that winds around the cabin. The weather is clear and numbingly cold, with the forest crumbling to the edge.

Heavy gnarled tree branches break through the water, and those that have fallen rot underfoot, covered with thick fluffy moss.

The forest buzzes with the sounds of birds and the native subspecies of the Yakushima Japanese macaque. However, everyone falls silent as the sun sets and the forest quickly darkens.

We return to the shelter and prepare a simple meal on our camp stove. With campfires prohibited by park rules and guileless conversation with the only other hiker who speaks some English after completing his course, we’re soon in our sleeping bags.

It’s freezing the next morning, but at least it’s not raining. Yakushima receives twice as much rain as the Japanese mainland each year, making us grateful for every hour of sunshine.

We fire up our stove for a quick bowl of porridge, then hit the trail again.

For the first few kilometers it winds through dense forest. The cedars are interspersed with large smooth-barked Stewartia, Tsuga conifers and Japanese wheel trees, which wrap sinuously around the trunks of other trees.

The trail is rugged, with sections requiring the use of hands and frequent fixed ropes. Roots and rocks beneath our feet slow us down to an average speed of 1.5 km/h (1 mile per hour) – just as our maps predict.

We fill our water bottles in the clear, cold streams, remembering how the staff at the store at the Anbo campsite where we rented our backpacks boasted about the “fresh, sweet water from the Yakushima mountains.”

Mid-morning, we hike through brush-covered highlands dotted with bright pink and white Satsuki azaleas, a type of rhododendron; entire valleys are carpeted with flowers. Walls of mist roll up to hide them for a few minutes, then bursts of sunlight burn away the mist and reveal the colors again.

At noon, we climbed 1,936 meters (6,350 feet) Mount Miyanoura, the highest peak in the Kyushu region. Ninety percent of Yakushima is mountain slopes, with many peaks reaching 1,800 meters, earning the island the nickname “the Alps on the ocean.”

The granite has been eroded to form strange, often human shapes that stand out against the lush, flower-studded landscape.

From Miyanoura, we turn east and descend into a valley towards the Shin-takatsuka refuge, which stands at an altitude of 1,480 meters.

We claim spots on the ground again and cook dinner on our camp stove, interrupted only by a docile Yakushikaa subspecies of sika deer, which wanders around the camp munching on moss.

Hiking – or haikinguas it is called in Japanese, is particularly popular with Japan’s elderly, who hike in groups and bring a lively community spirit to the cabins.

They all rise from their sleeping bags to loud greetings and commotion at 4:30 a.m. and arrive at the next cabin at noon, earning themselves a lazy afternoon in often crowded and uncomfortable facilities.

We leave later, take longer breaks on the trail, and arrive at each shelter late in the afternoon.

On our third and final day of hiking, we enter the ancient Yakusugi cedar forests for which Yakushima is famous. Here there are better-maintained trails crowded with walkers, as many of the island’s oldest and most famous trees are accessible on day hikes.

The Forest Service has designated and mapped 37 particularly impressive areas. yakusugi (cedars over 1,000 years old) and kosugi (“children’s cedars”) sought after by hikers.

The first one we encounter is the oldest tree in Japan, the jōmonsugiwhich scientists estimate to be up to 7,200 years old.

It takes its name from the Jomon period which ended around 300 BC, and historians believe it may have escaped logging due to the irregular shape of its massive trunk, which measures five meters of diameter.

The trail then takes us past Wilson’s Stump, all that remains of a huge cedar felled for timber in 1586. Named after British botanist Ernest Henry Wilson, who told the world about the hollow stump in 1914, it measures 4.4 meters in diameter at chest level. and contains a small sanctuary.

By mid-morning we had seen many of the island’s famous trees, but had to stay out of the way as groups of day hikers made their way past us and into the mountains.

Gnarled, moss-covered cedars and a clear stream tumble down the ravine, but as each step we take becomes easier, with better signage and even handrails, we feel the magic of the most remote mountains fading .

After seeing the interior of Yakushima, we want to explore the coastline, so rent a scooter to travel the road around the island.

We stop at a natural onsen accessible only at low tide – at other times the sea floods the mineral pools – and at a lighthouse built in 1897.

On the west side of the island, the narrow, winding route becomes a “World Heritage Wildlife Coastal Road”, where you have to slow down due to the number of deer and monkeys lounging on the tarmac: a different kind of magic.

Most visitors to Yakushima arrive by ferry from Kagoshima at Anbo or Miyanoura, or via the island’s small airport, served by flights from Itami, Fukuoka and Kagoshima.