The walks just keep getting longer. We walked 22 miles today...in the rain, for the entire time.
We were going to walk a large section in the mountains on a trail, but the rain changed our plans. The rains turn trails into creeks and the thought of trekking hours in a slippery creek didn't thrill us as if I liked root canals. Further, one slip and we would be going home early or worst to the hospital. Consequently we walked on 56 the entire time. You remember 56? The two lane blacktop that disguises as a freeway? All our fellow henro companions also chose to walk the road than negotiate the narrow dirt trail and they're tough. It was so nice and charming how one particular henro advised us. Being Japanese and thus polite he didn't simply say, “You'd be nuts to walk in the mountains on a day like this. Your alphabet is complete isn't it?” Instead he said and I paraphrase, “I'm going to walk on 56 because of the rains. The mountain roads are going to be narrow, wet, dangerous, but. You don't have to decide at this moment. When you get to 56 you can make up your mind.” We're glad to have followed his kind and polite words even if it added more miles to the trip. Funny, mid trip it was past time to eat and we all stopped at the same place. 
At the end of the day the first hotel that we were going to stay at looked rather shabby so we opted to walk another half a mile to the next lodgings. It turned out to be an “onsen” and so we eagerly collapsed there. It is a bit more expensive but well worth it. We immediately peeled off our wet clothes and went into the furo. We were the only ones in the sex segregated baths. It was so nice, but you can only stay in for so long or you'd be cooked to a beet red color. When we returned to our rooms I can't remember what happened except that Emi said that I was snoring loud enough to disturb the neighbors. And to think that this record breaking day started with a breakfast that consisted of a pile of dried small fishes, natto (fermented beans that most sane people will pass up), a raw egg, miso soup, ume and two slices of takuan, nori (dried seaweed), and rice. It was so pathetic that it was like a bad omen for the coming day and it was.
A word about Japanese TV shows; they can be pretty strange at times. For example they have a show where well known people tell a personal story of woe. The point is to get a panel of other well known celebs to cry. And then we watched another show where the point is to cry again. In this one a champion wrestler tells all Japan how his father was so mean to him, to the point of physical abuse, and yet there was always a kindly neighborhood man that would comfort him. The show went on and on in this vane when the “panel” pushes a button as if they are voting. I go crazy with imagination. Are they really voting? And if they are what are they voting about? Should the boy have run away or kill his father? Or were they voting if the mother was at fault? Was the boy deserving of the beatings? Ad infinitum. I'll never know. But what I do know is that they kept talking about the kindly man, and they even sent out an investigator to find him. At the end of the show they had a mysterious guest behind a closed door. Was it the kindly old man? Commercial break. Then the door opens and it is the son holding a picture of his deceased father. The champion wrestler falls to the ground crying. Everyone is crying. Even I can't help but shed a tear. Talk about tear jerker. And then there is this other show where 2 grown men wear tutus and make up. No big deal there, but coming out from between their legs is a duck head with a neck about 4 feet long. They dance around in a manner that leaves nothing to the imagination and if you lack imagination there is one bit that I have to describe. They push the springy heads back between their legs and then allow them to spring forward like and x-rated jack-in-the-box. Everyone laughs, even the kids on the stage. Go figure.
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