October 4th...half time report
Score: Shikoku 750 miles, The Tom's 350 miles
Time: 24 days down hopefully 26 to complete
Injury report: Feet blisters are healing. My neck is hurting somewhat. No substitutes allowed.
Temples: 39 temples visited, 49 to go.
Play by play action of a typical day:
4:45am Emi gets up to go to the bathroom and does not go back to bed
5am Emi turns on the TV and I wake up. It is time to pack, fold up the bedding, do our stretches, and just enough time to play a song or two.
6:30am breakfast
7am on the road.
10:30 to 11:30 looking for some food which might mean stopping at a 7/11 type store, to eating packed musubi, to actually finding a restaurant to eat at.
3 to 4pm arrive at our lodgings tired and so in need of a hot soaking bath
4 to 6 Take a bath, Emi does the laundry, I write, pass out for some minutes.
6pm dinner
7:45 sleep
It was a good thing the minshuku owner gave us some musubi today before we left. In the middle of the day there was nothing, no restaurants, no vending machines, no stores, nothing. A rice ball a piece was going to be lunch. It was another 19 mile day, but better than most other days because of the clouds, even though it rained on us for the first hour. Also the route was in large part little used narrow roads that curved through the valleys and mountains ending at Enkoji Temple. If we weren't so tired we would have enjoyed the view.
More dis 'n dat
Breakfast is so pathetic for people who are going to be walking for 6 to 10 hours. Typically it is one ume (shin fan mui for you Chinese), some pickled vegetables, a pile of tiny dried fishes and grated daikon, a piece or two of kamaboko, miso soup, dried seaweed, rice, a raw egg, and tea. It is a great breakfast only if you're on a diet. Oh, and o course I don't eat raw eggs.
A lot of rooms don't have keys. Can you figure out why? It's because they have sliding doors.
Japanese toilets take up less room than a western toilet so when there is a switch from a Japanese to a western toilet the cramped quarters become downright claustrophobic. Sitting on the commode my knees are literally smashed up to the opposing wall, the hardships of being a henro.
Monday, October 6, 2008
October 3
October 3
We left our packs and did an “easy” stroll, 19 miles, out to the farthest Southern point of Shikoku. In the beginning it was actually cold. That lasted about 15 minutes. Then it was just right for 30 minutes. And then it rained. We had left everything back at our lodgings, and were completely unprepared for the rain. Fortunately it never came down hard. I prayed that it would clear up and when it did, I cursed the return of the hot sun. It's the nature of man...never satisfied. So it was a 6 and a half hour walk out to Ashizurimisaki and a hour and half bus ride back. Can you believe that it was tiring just riding the bus back?
A little dis 'n dat
They have these henro rest stations where one can rest and even sleep.
What surprises me is that some does not come with water or bathrooms. One in particular was off a mountain trail and it looked more like a goblin's lair than a place for a human. I'm sure if you went in you'd never come out. A large percentage of the henros are recent college grads and they are doing it on the cheap. They stay at these free resting places. One of the popular sites are certain railroad stations that allow henro “camping”. They area tough bunch. Their packs are twice as big as ours. One friend henro, Yuya, talked about his night lodgings, a bench, and how he had to scare off a dog in the middle of the night. Emi and I stay in our lodgings and complain how much we have to endure. We're softies compared to them and I'm proud to say it.
You'd better like fish if you visit Japan for a long period of time. It is fish, fish, and more fish. You'd think we're a pair of penguins. Most of the dinners come with 3 or 4 dishes of fish like sashimi, tataki, kamaboku, and broiled fish with sauce. By the end of the trip we just might be growing scales over our bodies.
You need to learn a few key kanji words to use the bathrooms in Japan starting with washing hand, convenient place, and make up room, all names for a bathroom. And of course you need to know men and women. The flush can either be big or small. And for me, I look for the “western” toilet.
Talking about toilets: there is one more toilet story I have to tell. I don't know how you women use the facility wearing a dress. My wearing a yukata makes using a toilet almost impossible. Getting my yukata out of the way feels like I'm gathering in a sail, a parachute, a flag. It's yards and yards of material that I must get out of the way. The first time that I used the toilet with the luxurious ass washer (excuse mt French) I was so embarrassed because I got my yukata wet. I don't want to sound macho but I'd rather pull down my pants than hitch up my yukata.
We took the bus back from Ashizurimisaki.
Yes you heard right. It was either that or walk 19 miles out and then back. Didn't want to do that. My mother didn't raise a fool. The bus ride back was a true “E ticket ride”. The roads are narrow and the bus is a bus. I wanted to sit on the outside so I could get a better view. Bad mistake. I was so scared that I actually squirmed away on more than one occasion. The drop looked more than vertical, as if there was a undercut to the road. Looking out all I could see was the view straight down, not a hint of a road. I said a prayer or two I must confess.
We left our packs and did an “easy” stroll, 19 miles, out to the farthest Southern point of Shikoku. In the beginning it was actually cold. That lasted about 15 minutes. Then it was just right for 30 minutes. And then it rained. We had left everything back at our lodgings, and were completely unprepared for the rain. Fortunately it never came down hard. I prayed that it would clear up and when it did, I cursed the return of the hot sun. It's the nature of man...never satisfied. So it was a 6 and a half hour walk out to Ashizurimisaki and a hour and half bus ride back. Can you believe that it was tiring just riding the bus back?
A little dis 'n dat
They have these henro rest stations where one can rest and even sleep.
What surprises me is that some does not come with water or bathrooms. One in particular was off a mountain trail and it looked more like a goblin's lair than a place for a human. I'm sure if you went in you'd never come out. A large percentage of the henros are recent college grads and they are doing it on the cheap. They stay at these free resting places. One of the popular sites are certain railroad stations that allow henro “camping”. They area tough bunch. Their packs are twice as big as ours. One friend henro, Yuya, talked about his night lodgings, a bench, and how he had to scare off a dog in the middle of the night. Emi and I stay in our lodgings and complain how much we have to endure. We're softies compared to them and I'm proud to say it.You'd better like fish if you visit Japan for a long period of time. It is fish, fish, and more fish. You'd think we're a pair of penguins. Most of the dinners come with 3 or 4 dishes of fish like sashimi, tataki, kamaboku, and broiled fish with sauce. By the end of the trip we just might be growing scales over our bodies.
You need to learn a few key kanji words to use the bathrooms in Japan starting with washing hand, convenient place, and make up room, all names for a bathroom. And of course you need to know men and women. The flush can either be big or small. And for me, I look for the “western” toilet.
Talking about toilets: there is one more toilet story I have to tell. I don't know how you women use the facility wearing a dress. My wearing a yukata makes using a toilet almost impossible. Getting my yukata out of the way feels like I'm gathering in a sail, a parachute, a flag. It's yards and yards of material that I must get out of the way. The first time that I used the toilet with the luxurious ass washer (excuse mt French) I was so embarrassed because I got my yukata wet. I don't want to sound macho but I'd rather pull down my pants than hitch up my yukata.
We took the bus back from Ashizurimisaki.
Yes you heard right. It was either that or walk 19 miles out and then back. Didn't want to do that. My mother didn't raise a fool. The bus ride back was a true “E ticket ride”. The roads are narrow and the bus is a bus. I wanted to sit on the outside so I could get a better view. Bad mistake. I was so scared that I actually squirmed away on more than one occasion. The drop looked more than vertical, as if there was a undercut to the road. Looking out all I could see was the view straight down, not a hint of a road. I said a prayer or two I must confess.
October 2
October 2
“What's wrong with you?”
“What's wrong with me? Are you talking about me?”
“I don't see any other fool walking around here.”
“I resent that. I'm no fool, not always right, but not a fool.”
“Then tell me this, are you having a good time yet?”
“The walk is not exactly about having fun.”
“Then what's the point...exactly?”
“There's a lot of things that man does that may not be considered fun but still valid.
“Like what?”
“Well...there's jogging, learning a language, climbing a mountain, going to the gym, the list is endless.”
“I get your point, but in each of those endeavors there is a particular goal or achievement that one is aiming for, don't you agree?”
“I suppose.”
“So what's yours in walking the henro michi?”
“To understand the sound of one hand clapping.”
This is only a small fragment of my wandering thoughts as I walk and walk and walk and....Most of it not making any sense at all.
Yesterday we walked 20 mi course he didn't have an elevator. I have a sneaky suspicion that there are no elevators anywhere on Shikouku. By the time we got there we were both hurting from dehydration. Lesson learned again.
So today we walked only 18 miles. It was much more pleasant. As walks go, it was fairly nice, no freeways with narrow walking paths, no hot sun without shade or breeze, no mountain paths with slippery rocks and pesky mosquitoes. Best of all close to the end we actually had fun.
We stopped at a takoyaki (fried octopus) shop and ended up talking to the only customer. She was a nurse and this was her day off and this was her hang out where she stays from noon to four and then picks up her child. Oh, did I tell you that she drinks beer and smokes the entire time. So we ended up eating the takoyaki, seasoned eggplant, and drinking beer, because our host assured us that the minshiku was only a 10 minute walk. We actually had fun eating, drinking, and talking. The nurse was so bubbly she made champagne look flat. She bought the beer and poured like it was for free, and it was for us. After a while she would ask yotteru (Drunk yet?); the restaurant owner supplied the eggplant, All was osettai (gift for the henro). We all had great fun. Later the nurse stopped by the minshiku to introduce us to her kids. It was a nice gesture.
“What's wrong with you?”
“What's wrong with me? Are you talking about me?”
“I don't see any other fool walking around here.”
“I resent that. I'm no fool, not always right, but not a fool.”
“Then tell me this, are you having a good time yet?”
“The walk is not exactly about having fun.”
“Then what's the point...exactly?”
“There's a lot of things that man does that may not be considered fun but still valid.
“Like what?”
“Well...there's jogging, learning a language, climbing a mountain, going to the gym, the list is endless.”
“I get your point, but in each of those endeavors there is a particular goal or achievement that one is aiming for, don't you agree?”
“I suppose.”
“So what's yours in walking the henro michi?”
“To understand the sound of one hand clapping.”
This is only a small fragment of my wandering thoughts as I walk and walk and walk and....Most of it not making any sense at all.
Yesterday we walked 20 mi course he didn't have an elevator. I have a sneaky suspicion that there are no elevators anywhere on Shikouku. By the time we got there we were both hurting from dehydration. Lesson learned again.
So today we walked only 18 miles. It was much more pleasant. As walks go, it was fairly nice, no freeways with narrow walking paths, no hot sun without shade or breeze, no mountain paths with slippery rocks and pesky mosquitoes. Best of all close to the end we actually had fun.
We stopped at a takoyaki (fried octopus) shop and ended up talking to the only customer. She was a nurse and this was her day off and this was her hang out where she stays from noon to four and then picks up her child. Oh, did I tell you that she drinks beer and smokes the entire time. So we ended up eating the takoyaki, seasoned eggplant, and drinking beer, because our host assured us that the minshiku was only a 10 minute walk. We actually had fun eating, drinking, and talking. The nurse was so bubbly she made champagne look flat. She bought the beer and poured like it was for free, and it was for us. After a while she would ask yotteru (Drunk yet?); the restaurant owner supplied the eggplant, All was osettai (gift for the henro). We all had great fun. Later the nurse stopped by the minshiku to introduce us to her kids. It was a nice gesture.
September 29
September 29th...a long walk in the rain
We walked 18 miles today, and at first it was dry but it started slowly to drizzle at 10am and then it came down in earnest. It wasn't a downpour (ooame), just a steady moderate rain. There were no temples today, only the long walk. We have 5 more long walks with one shorter day thrown in. I must admit that I was a bit tired by the time we got to the minshuku, but a long hot bath, a nice nap before dinner and I'm ready to do it again tomorrow.
The day started with an act of kindness from the hotel that we stayed, the nice one. We wanted a taxi to take us back to the start of the trail (We had to walk in to the hotel and didn't want to walk back out the mile to the trail.) but the staff insisted that they drive us. They didn't have to, but they did. It was complete surprise.
Later in the day we were doing our thing, walking and talking when we past two boys about 7 years old. This trip the children that we run across is much less likely to say good morning or good afternoon, and neither did these two boys, and they passed us by without saying anything. We hadn't gone very far when they returned to say gambate (“Keep going; you can do it.”) and then added something like, “See you,” It was very cute.
And talking about kids, some days ago we saw a typical scene, a la Japanese style, where a mother had come out into the street to see her son, who was about 10, off to school. The son was trudging down the small street some 20 feet away from his mother when we saw them. She was still lovingly watch him walk away from her after saying good-by, “ittterashai”, and we clearly heard his audible response, “hazakashii” (embarrassing). At that point he saw us, and I smiled a smile that I hope said to him, “That's the way it is kid, and be thankful that you have a mother that loves you.”
Today we went through several tunnels. The path through them varies from elevated sidewalks with handrails to a 3 foot lane with a painted white line separating you from the cars. The worst tunnel was fairly long, about a 10+ minute walk, and devoid of lights in the middle. At that dark point Emi slowed down because she couldn't see, and I was shouting to her to run because no one could see anything else, especially not two pedestrians in a tunnel.
We walked 18 miles today, and at first it was dry but it started slowly to drizzle at 10am and then it came down in earnest. It wasn't a downpour (ooame), just a steady moderate rain. There were no temples today, only the long walk. We have 5 more long walks with one shorter day thrown in. I must admit that I was a bit tired by the time we got to the minshuku, but a long hot bath, a nice nap before dinner and I'm ready to do it again tomorrow.
The day started with an act of kindness from the hotel that we stayed, the nice one. We wanted a taxi to take us back to the start of the trail (We had to walk in to the hotel and didn't want to walk back out the mile to the trail.) but the staff insisted that they drive us. They didn't have to, but they did. It was complete surprise.
Later in the day we were doing our thing, walking and talking when we past two boys about 7 years old. This trip the children that we run across is much less likely to say good morning or good afternoon, and neither did these two boys, and they passed us by without saying anything. We hadn't gone very far when they returned to say gambate (“Keep going; you can do it.”) and then added something like, “See you,” It was very cute.
And talking about kids, some days ago we saw a typical scene, a la Japanese style, where a mother had come out into the street to see her son, who was about 10, off to school. The son was trudging down the small street some 20 feet away from his mother when we saw them. She was still lovingly watch him walk away from her after saying good-by, “ittterashai”, and we clearly heard his audible response, “hazakashii” (embarrassing). At that point he saw us, and I smiled a smile that I hope said to him, “That's the way it is kid, and be thankful that you have a mother that loves you.”
Today we went through several tunnels. The path through them varies from elevated sidewalks with handrails to a 3 foot lane with a painted white line separating you from the cars. The worst tunnel was fairly long, about a 10+ minute walk, and devoid of lights in the middle. At that dark point Emi slowed down because she couldn't see, and I was shouting to her to run because no one could see anything else, especially not two pedestrians in a tunnel.
September 28
Memories...September 28th
This is an easier day. Last night we stayed at the same business hotel in Tosa that we stayed 6 years ago. It hadn't changed. We left our bags at the hotel in the morning and did a 1 hour 45 minute walk up to the temple and back, a mere 4 mile walk only half way up the mountain. It was one of the rare temple that was not located either on top of a mountain or on the flat land of a growing area. Then it was an 8 mile walk to temple 36, Shoryuji which might mean blue dragon or pizza shack, or something like that.
We got into our hotel early today, and even then we had to sit by the beach for a little less than an hour waiting for check-in time, 3pm. Naturally, I fell asleep laying on the pavement.Tomorrow will be a long day, 18 miles and maybe some rain to boot.
It is amazing what Emi and I remember, but there are more times when we have no recollection of the areas that we are walking or even the temples. It is as if we were never there, but then we will remember a particular spot or scene like a short tunnel where we put on our panchos and died from the trapped heat, or the coffee shop that we stopped at the bottom of temple 35, or a particular minshiku, Chiba Minshiku by name.
Of course it would be impossible to remember 700+ miles. We only remember particular spots that some way catch our attention.
It is like our life. We, I, cannot remember all 67 years of it, but I remember particular events, some significant some trivial. I remember eating the cookies at Mr Spivalo's shop when I was working there as a kid. I remember throwing darts at my brother because I was mad at him. I remember following Valerie Yoh home when I didn't know her and taking her out on our first and last date. I even remember what we talked about. But I don't remember my first kiss; I don't remember where I went when I first drove a car all by myself; I don't remember what I felt when I saw my first child. Memory is a strange thing. It seems to act independently of what you want to remember and what you want to forget. All I can say is that I hope I remember this night here in Japan. We have an exquisite room, had a wonderful bath, and a delicious dinner. I'm not too exhausted (I even had the energy to paint a watercolor, the first.), and the bedding was laid out for us. It is only 7:20pm, but I'm just about ready to go to sleep. Oyasumi nasai.
September 30
September 30th...a really long day.
Length is relative, but I can confidently say that 23 miles was a long walk. Further to make matters worst it rained the whole day. I admit that it wasn't pouring but it was steady and I cursed the rain without stop.
The first third of the walk was on a narrow road that followed the very scenic coast. It was amazing that it hadn't hadn't fallen into the ocean so precarious was it's hold on the land. It was as if someone had built a road on the Napali coast. It didn't make sense to me especially since there was only one factory like building situated between the beginning and end. It had no identification signs and we only saw a few cars on the road, all coming and going probably from that mysterious location. I think it was Japan's area 56.
Before starting the next third of the walk on the Osaka Pilgrim Route, we stopped to recharge ourselves with a “mooningu setto” at a coffee shop.
Emi asked for directions to the trail, the book map being totally inadequate, and the proprietor drew us a map and then kindly made us musubi for us to take along. The kind acts never stops. I'm beginning to wonder if Japan is different from the world, but I would like to think that all people are nice, aren't they? The shop owner was really a shodo master; she ran the coffee shop part time. Her real thing was zen paintings. She had one of her paintings on the wall, and I liked it so much that I had taken a picture of it before I knew that she had painted it. Sugoi desu nee.
The Osaka Pilgrim Route was through valleys and mountain passes, a quiet beautiful walk. It was only the last kilometer when things got ugly. The path suddenly shifted upward and we had to climb what seemed straight up. By the time we got to the top, where highway 56 runs, we were soaked inside and out, from the rain and our sweat.
The last third was on the highway, a two lane blacktop. It was noisy, not too picturesque. By then all we wanted was to get out off the rain and off our aching feet. Fortunately, our lodgings were at the temple.
Oh, did I tell you that the day ended at a temple? Well it did. Our “room” is 16 tatami mat with sliding doors that can be open so that you have one really large room, but we'll keep it closed, thank you very much.
We're now sitting here waiting for dinner. It is 5:15pm and dinner is at 6pm. There isn't a TV in the room, so we are listening to the rain drops and watching the temple recede into the gloom of the night.
Thank You
Saturday, September 27th
We walked to three temples today, the first on top of a “small” mountain. The mosquitoes didn't get me going up but they got me three times coming down. They knew I was returning and was just laying in wake for my return trip...I hate them.
Let me say miracles do happen. The temperature today dropped to 27 degrees. It was like the power to the sauna went dead. Just for your information, coincidentally September 23ed was a national holiday. It is the day Japan celebrates the official day when the temperature starts to cool down. I guess it's true. It was wonderful. We were still tired by the end of the day, 17 plus miles, but it sure was different in a good way, not sweating with each step. In the morning we took a taxi to the foot of the hill to the temple we were last at, at least we thought we were. The @#*#% taxi driver dropped us off somewhere in Timbuktu, and we had to walk an extra half a mile just to get back on the trail, but who's complaining.
They have an honor system for selling here that is so nice but would definitely not work in the USA. They leave their products, usually produce, in a stall with the prices marked. The idea is for you to leave the money there before you take the item. I'd like to see them do that at home with Ipods.
Oh yes, random act of kindness strikes again, and again. First, a biker stopped early in the morning to give us directions to get to the next temple, and he was right in every detail. Later in the day we stopped to sit on a bench located in front of a coffee shop to rest and drink from a soft drink that we had been carrying when the lady from the shop came out to give us ice tea with sugar. What could we say but arigato. Instead of customers we became freeloaders, but hey we're henro or as they would call us at home, bums, the homeless, indigents. Later that day an older lady stopped us as were rushing to catch the ferry just to give us each a 100 yen coin...just because. I was so taken by this kindness, but too rushed except to mumble arigatogozaimasu...I really wanted to do more to show my appreciation, but ossetai is given without any thought of reciprocity.
Later that day I saw an older lady pushing her bike that was laden with groceries. She had stopped twice and I thought that she might be tired. I offered her help, but she said that she was fine. I had to offer. It was the least that I could do. This experience here in Shikoku has renewed my faith in mankind and I wish that I could repay all the kindness that Emi and I have received. 
Following Kawahatsu sensei”s guidelines I say thank you over and over throughout the day. When I'm at the temples and when I am praying one of the things that I say is thank you. There are so many things for me to be thankful. The first is to say thank you for my precious life, and with that thought, the feeling of appreciation threatens to overwhelm me so much that I have to keep myself in check or I could easily start to cry. Yeah, yeah, I know I'm a girly-man; what can I say? But I am so grateful for having this life. No, it hasn't been all good, but there has been a lot of good; I am so glad to have this life. Thank you, thank you, arigatogozaimasu. And then there is No. 2,3,4...all good reasons to say thank you.
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