Waiting above Nara for the city lights A short September evening drive up Wakakusayama

On day 1 of my 2-night September trip around Kansai, I drove from Ariake to Nara in a red convertible. Just as I’d planned, I spent the day walking around town, then headed to Wakakusayama in the evening to watch the lights come on. I loaded the Mikasa sweets I’d bought in town into the car and set off on the Shin-Wakakusayama Course. The road kept curving as I climbed, and suddenly I was turning the wheel much more often. Along the one-way 3.7km drive, the bustle of the city gradually faded as the trees closed in.

Once I reached the summit car park, I got out and set off for the viewpoint. The path is a 300m ramp, so I started while the sky was still bright. I could feel the path through the soles of my sneakers and smell the grass close by. It would be dark on the way back, but I’d heard that little lights come on along the path at night.

At the railing, the Nara Basin opened out before me. As the distant mountains darkened, I began to pick out the city lights one by one. With my hands clasped in front of my cream-coloured jacket, I fixed my eyes on the first light that came on. I was going to use it as a marker and watch the other lights come on around it.

Just after sunset, only the sky above the mountain range was still bright. The city beneath it was already in shadow. It was a brief moment between day and night, and I was glad I’d arrived in time to see it.

The Shin-Wakakusayama Driveway guide said the best time for night views is about 30 minutes to 1 hour after sunset. I’d also read that Wakakusayama’s night view had been selected as one of Japan’s New Three Great Night Views. Two lights, then three, appeared around the one I’d picked as my marker. By the time I gave up trying to keep count, I’d lost track of which one had been my marker.

Among the lights of the city at night, I could see several straight lines of light stretching into the distance. Maybe they were car headlights moving along the roads. Thinking that one of those roads might connect to a street I’d walked that day suddenly made the city below feel close.

When I lowered my gaze, I could see a broad roof among the trees. From Wakakusayama, you can look out over the part of the city where Todaiji and Kofukuji stand, so I liked looking for the streets I’d walked during the day. I kept trying to spot where I’d turned at that corner earlier, and before I knew it, the sky had gone completely dark.

I compared the photos I’d taken, trying to choose 1 to send to my driving friend: one taken before many lights had come on, and another from after night had fully fallen. After some thought, I sent the earlier one, while I could still make out the first light I’d picked as my marker.

Small lights along the path lit the way for my 300m walk back. Each time I turned around, there were more lights in the city than before. I kept stopping to look, so the car park seemed a long way off.

Back at the car park, I opened the Mikasa sweets I’d bought earlier. I finished the fluffy cake and sweet bean filling in the cool night air on the mountain, then folded the wrapper into a small square. I picked a song for the drive back, switched on the headlights, gripped the wheel with both hands and headed down the winding road toward the city.