It seems at first that they are not of this world, these monks living out their lives of mountain seclusion. They glide purposefully -- as if on some devout mission from on high -- through the monastery corridors. At times, they flit by at great speed, their black tunics and dark blue robes swishing as they pass, pausing only briefly to bow reverently in the direction of the Buddha Hall. It comes as a surprise then, when for the first time you see them acting like normal people, laughing and joking among themselves after the morning service, rather than gazing off profoundly into some middle distance.

Since 1244, after its founding by the philosopher-monk Dogen Kigen (1200-1253), there has stood deep in the mountains of Fukui Prefecture a Buddhist temple and monastery originally called Daibutsu-ji Temple, now known as Eihei-ji Temple. Located some 20 km east of the city of Fukui, Eihei-ji is the best reason (pretty much the only reason, some might say) for visiting that prefecture. As a place for living the contemplative life, Eihei-ji certainly has great physical beauty: The temple stands among boulders thick with bright green moss, cedars of great girth, and Japanese maples that, in autumn, are a riot of cinnabar red and spectacular gold.

Eihei-ji is one of the two chief temples of the Soto sect of Zen, and the place is renowned for its rigor. Visitors run into this discipline upon admission to the temple, when a monk gives them a detailed explanation of monastic dos and don'ts. Lest they forget, visitors also receive a printed list of the rules. Should they transgress -- as I somehow seemed to find myself doing constantly on my day trip here -- the monks quite cheerfully give them a good telling-off.