Unaware of the significance of Buddhism, I didn’t know what to expect from Japanese shrines. I suppose it’s like being a non-Christian foreigner visiting cathedrals in Europe.

I was visiting one of Japan’s oldest temples – the Shitennōji temple in Osaka. Prince Shotoku decided to support the introduction of Buddhism into Japan in 593. The state built many sites, but Shitennōji was one of the first. Whenever it burned down, they rebuilt it to reflect the original 6th century design.

When I visited, the day was overcast. While it had not yet started to rain, the clouds were pregnant with water and waiting to burst. I traipsed through the alleys of Osaka, umbrella in hand, surprised at how quiet such a large city can be.

As I arrived, the clouds gave up and a gentle pitter-patter started to envelop me. (Click here to experience the full effect)

There is a certain amount of serenity that is palpable as you cross the threshold of the temple. Maybe it was the rain, maybe it’s the temple.

Perhaps I expected it.

Perhaps it’s genuinely here.

Modernity dwarfs the temple walls but this does not detract from the peacefulness. For some reason, I started thinking of the peace and quiet in Malta’s San Anton gardens.

Not quite the same sort of place, but the same sort of feeling, nonetheless.

I walked around the gardens in the rain, observing the various buildings that form the temple. They remind me of the shrines I had seen in China in 2008. I’m ashamed to say I had no idea why they were the same. Were the Chinese influenced by Japanese architecture or was it the other way round? (Later research shows that the introduction of buddhism to Japan implies Chinese influence.)

I stopped to stare as a bell rang out. The clang focused my attention on a murder of cawing crows cruising under the temple corbels.

The rain drops spattered on the large stone slabs. That sound gave way to the delicate draining of water from the roofs as it whooshed its way underground.

I wandered around, savouring the moment.

As I approached the main door, I peeked at my watch. What would locals think of me traipsing through one of their significant temples in minutes?

And yet, almost an hour had passed.

An hour lost?

Or an hour gained?

You be the judge …