The priestess sways slowly. She pirouettes and curtsies, her arms circling high above her head before sweeping low to brush the floor. Her head is bowed, her eyes half closed and a slight smile plays at the corners of her mouth. She’s dancing for the gods.

Oiwa Shrine sits cocooned in maples on Mount Oiwa, said to be the oldest sacred mountain in the former province of Hitachi (now Ibaraki Prefecture). More than 500 million years of history is written in the rocks beneath our feet, and pilgrims have made journeys here for around 3,000 years. After the priestess makes her final bow and leads us outside, she explains that 188 gods call this place home. “They live in the rocks, the water, the trees, the flowers. Can you feel them?”

Gazing around, I think I can. Centuries-old cedars soar skywards, tiny streams tinkle into forest pools and sunlight glances through the canopy to fall on moss so thick it feels like carpet. The silence is profound; the slice of a butterfly’s wings sends a shiver down my spine and a dragonfly lands beside me with an almost drum-like thud. There’s magic in the air.

A priestess dressed in white and red opens a large door of the Oiwa Shrine in Ibaraki Prefecture, Japan.

The priestess of Oiwa Shrine, Ms Shimojo, is a guardian of the ancient site who also conducts spiritual ceremonies. Photograph by Charlotte Wigram-Evans

Fukuroda Falls waterfall in Ibaraki Prefecture, Japan.

Fukuroda Falls, tucked away in the hills of the town of Daigo in northwestern Ibaraki Prefecture, draws visitors year-round. Photograph by Ibaraki Prefecture

Although less than a two-hour train hop from Tokyo, Ibaraki is a region much less touched by the modern world and far from most travellers’ paths. So I’m here to seek an insight into the secrets of this secluded place and the people who call it home.

“Come,” the priestess beckons, guiding me to an ancient torii gate where we pay our respects: two bows, two claps and a final bow. “Unusually for Japan, both Shinto and Buddhist gods are worshipped here,” she explains, “but the god of the mountain is all-powerful, so we must show utmost respect in his presence — solemnity is key.”

It’s easy to hold onto this feeling as I hike from the shrine up to Mount Oiwa’s summit, so enthralled am I by the beauty of the forest. The following day, however, during a visit to the tiny village of Machiya in Hitachiota, I meet the Noodle Boys and thoughts of solemnity begin to dissipate.

Oiwa Shrine, a red, traditional Japanese-style building in Ibaraki Prefecture, Japan.

Part of the Hitachi-no-kuni Long Trail, Oiwa Shrine on Mount Oiwa is a sacred site dedicated to 188 deities. Photograph by Ibaraki Prefecture

This gang of eight larger-than-life retirees have been running the Soba Club for more than 30 years. They come, they cook, and most importantly, they drink. “Noodles and sake are a match made in heaven,” Mr Sekine says, grinning. “We make soba noodles using buckwheat that we grow. They’re great for your health, so we can drink as much as we like without feeling guilty. Let me show you how to do it.”

Plunging my hands into a bowl of flour, I can’t help but smile at the irony of their so-called ‘soba club’. But beyond the hilarity, there’s a true art to noodle-making — this is a culinary tradition dating back more than 400 years and a skill revered across Japan. Harvesting, grinding and sifting are all done by hand, before the flour is combined with just the right amount of water, rolled and sliced into string-thin strips.

Through the windows of the makeshift noodle hall, life in Machiya still walks to an ancient beat. A clutch of tiny dwellings sit surrounded by forest, wildflowers bloom unchecked and little old ladies pedal past on rickety bicycles. “Nothing really changes here,” Mr Sekine says. “We live as we have always lived, respecting the land and revering the gods of the mountains on our doorstep.”

People walk through a forest of tall trees in Ibaraki Prefecture, Japan.

The Hitachi-no-kuni Long Trail traverses through forests, mountains and rural villages in the northern area of Ibaraki Prefecture. Photograph by Ibaraki Prefecture

Needless to say, my noodles turn out significantly thicker than Mr Sekine’s. Hanging off the side of a mountain the next morning, clinging to a rope and praying the gods are in a good mood, I’m struck by the disappointing resemblance between my current lifeline and my soba. But these ropes have a more practical purpose, assisting our ascent of Mount Namase-Fuji, another sacred peak and an epic hike up rocky outcrops and paths slick with fallen leaves. Climbing higher, the colours begin to change and the sky becomes blocked by a blanket of maples slowly turning crimson.

Ropes prove crucial for scrambling up some of the steeper inclines, and I’m thankful, too, for the stone Jizo statues hidden in the undergrowth along our path. Buddhist guardian deities of weary travellers, Jizo protect pilgrims from harm, and under their watchful eyes, I make it — panting but triumphant — to the peak. Views from the summit stretch out across a sea of undulating hills, rolling like emerald waves towards a horizon strung with low-hanging stratus clouds.

Nearby Fukuroda Falls is my final stop for the day. A 390ft-high force of nature, it bursts forth from the forest and cascades down four tiers of granite cliff face. Justly famous as one of Japan’s ‘Three Great Waterfalls’, its waters stream down the rock in silvery ribbons, sparkling in the sunlight and swirling in hypnotising pools at its base. It’s a sobering site, and final proof — it seems — of divine presence in these peaks. While the priestess dances for the gods at Oiwa Shrine, here, they are dancing back to us.

Three more activities to do in Ibaraki

1. Relax in an onsen
No trip to Japan would be complete without visiting an onsen (hot spring). For a simple yet elegant option, try Yamadaya Ryokan, while Omoide Romankan hotel has several indoor options, plus a beautiful outdoor onsen by the Taki River.

2. Go fruit picking
Ibaraki is renowned for its fruit — head to Fujita Orchard in Daigo to pick your own apples (late September through November) or to the Hitachiota area, where a number of different grape varieties are grown.

3. Visit Ryujin Suspension Bridge
Walk across the 1,230ft Ryujin Suspension Bridge for stunning views of the surrounding hills. Thrill-seekers can also try one of Japan’s highest bungee jumps from 330ft above Ryujin Lake.

This paid content article was created for Ibaraki Prefecture. It does not necessarily reflect the views of National Geographic, National Geographic Traveller (UK) or their editorial staffs.

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