Even when the specifics are lost to the annals of history, locations related to origin stories are often compelling, regardless of time and place. Perhaps they provide some concrete backing to an identity, or maybe their contributions to a shared heritage instill a sense of pride in their caretakers.

At the end of last month, I visited Asuka, Japan, as part of my history class visit to identify connections between Japan and Korea. Asuka, which is situated an hour outside of Kyoto in the idyllic rolling hills of Japan’s countryside, is home to the first Buddhist temple in Japan. Constructed in the seventh century, the Asuka Temple was once twenty times as large as it is today. What caught my eye while touring, however, was a small palm leaf scroll with flowing, curved script. A description referenced a partnership with Aluviharaya, which turned out to be a rock cave temple outside of Kandy, Sri Lanka.

Though I figured it was just a coincidence, I nonetheless added Aluviharaya to a list of sites to visit while in Kandy. On a day trip to Sigiriya, an ancient royal court, and Dambulla, another rock cave temple, I asked our driver if we could stop at Aluviharaya, to which he readily agreed. As it turned out, Aluviharaya is purported to be the place where the Buddha’s sayings were first inscribed on paper — a heritage of great importance to Sri Lankan Buddhism.

Beyond its natural beauty set among stones and cliffs, the complex is well preserved and in active use today. Incense sticks burned from within the rock inserts they were stuck in, and remnants of fireworks indicated a recent celebration or festival. Even so, we were the only visitors at Aluviharaya when we visited — a stark difference from Sigiriya and Dambulla, each of which had their fair share of tourists. Without having seen the reference to Aluviharaya in Japan, there is little chance I would have known about its existence. Despite its great significance to Sri Lankan Buddhism, it is not included on the average tourist itinerary, much like Asuka Temple in Japan.

All of this is to say that straying from the tourist trail begets unique experiences, like having Aluviharaya to ourselves on a quiet Thursday afternoon. Without my history professor identifying Asuka as a site to visit, I would not have left Kyoto’s crowded streets and temples. Had I not visited Asuka, I would not have visited Aluviharaya.

More interestingly, this raised a few questions about cultural heritage. Though both Asuka and Aluviharaya feature ample signage and are by no means hard to reach, neither is emphasized as a central tourist site. Perhaps this is to preserve each location’s religious significance — without tour buses and eager guides, both sites are certainly more peaceful and inviting of reflection than their busier counterparts.

Even so, the existing tourist infrastructure at both Asuka and Aluviharaya indicates that they are ready for the traveler who, whether on their own volition or spurred by an encounter or experience, is seeking to stray from the well-trodden path. Quiet, still moments upon which to reflect await in these places in a way that they might not elsewhere.