‘Sorry,’ said Jack, hurriedly scrambling to his feet and dusting himself off, ‘but need to catch up… matter of honour.’

Jack bowed quickly, then sprinted after Yamato.

‘Oh, the youth of today, so eager for enlightenment… Buddha will wait, you know!’ called the monk amiably after the rapidly receding figure of Jack.

Jack couldn’t see Yamato as he dashed round the final bend and passed under the Nio-mon, the Gate of the Deva Kings. Barely glancing at the two huge lion-dogs that guarded the entrance against evil, he ran up the flight of stone steps, past startled pilgrims and through a second gateway to the Sanju-no-to. The three-storeyed pagoda was painted a deep red and clearly stood out against the dull brown of the other buildings.

Yamato was still nowhere in sight as Jack hurried towards the Hondo, the Main Hall, an immense building that dominated the temple complex.

He passed through a small shrine, bearing a vivid painting of a coiled jade-green dragon on the ceiling, under another gateway guarded by lion-dogs, and entered the outer sanctuary of the Hondo. Weaving his way through the pilgrims prostrating themselves in prayer, he headed straight for the inner sanctum.

Inside, there were only a few bemused-looking monks, who observed the hot, sweaty and out-of-breath gaijin with serene interest. The inner sanctum was dark and cool and, unlike the other temples, was decorated with ornate gold-leaf images of the Buddha, but Jack only had time for a fleeting glance as he hunted for an exit.

‘Sound of Feathers waterfall?’ asked Jack in desperation.

A lithe tanned monk, in a half-lotus position, pointed to a doorway on his right. Jack briefly bowed his appreciation, ran through and emerged once again into the bright sunlight.

He found himself standing upon a large wooden platform, the butai, that jutted out over a deep gorge, thick with lush vegetation and trees. The sound of water thundered in his ears and through a fine watery mist, Jack could see the entirety of Kyoto spread out across the distant valley floor. The city shimmered in all its glory like a mirage and a faint rainbow fell upon the Imperial Palace at its centre.

To Jack’s immediate left, the Sound of Feathers waterfall cascaded over a sheer cliff and into a large rock basin, some five storeys below. The water churned into a frothy confusion of eddies and whirlpools before easing and then flowing down the gorge into the Kyoto Valley.

Jack looked up and saw that Yamato was already clambering up the rock face, heading towards the tiny stone shrine perched at the lip of the fall.

Jack judged that the waterfall was about the height of the crow’s-nest on-board the Alexandria. Yamato was a short way above the butai and clearly struggling. Even from where Jack stood, he could see Yamato’s legs shaking, his hands blindly feeling for the next hold.