Yakushima grows cedars that live for thousands of years, while the same species on the Japanese mainland seldom passes five hundred. The island is a granite dome south of Kyushu, its soil thin and poor, so the trees grow at a crawl: tight-grained, soaked in their own resin, all but rot-proof. Cedars past a thousand years old earn the name yakusugi. The greatest of them, Jomon Sugi, stands 25 metres tall and 16.4 metres around, and carbon dating has proved it at least 2,170 years old. Rain does the rest — 4,000 millimetres a year on the coast, up to 10,000 on the peaks, the wettest ground in Japan.
Above the subtropical shore the land climbs to 1,936 metres at Miyanoura-dake, so one day's walk carries you from the plants of Okinawa to those of northern Japan. The place to feel it is Shiratani Unsuikyo, the mossy ravine Miyazaki's team scouted before making Princess Mononoke: mist between the trunks, cedar roots gripping wet granite, no sound but water. Boardwalks and the rails of an old logging line lead deeper in. From about 1640 islanders felled yakusugi and split them into roof shingles as tribute to the Satsuma domain. The walk to Jomon Sugi still follows that railway: 22 kilometres there and back, eight to ten hours, begun in the dark. Access is tightly held now: from March to November no private car may use the Arakawa forest road, so every hiker rides the shuttle and pays a conservation fee. On the north coast, Nagata Inakahama is the largest loggerhead nesting beach in the North Pacific, and on early-summer nights the turtles climb the sand to lay.