{Shikoku Hachijūhachikasho Meguri}

--Thoughts during Week Four--

Had the standard breakfast, but instead of a piece of fish they gave me a few slices of grilled ham, the thinly sliced kind that comes out of the package and you put on a sandwich. Since i had time i sat around for a while, drank tea, and watched a little of the news.

I was out the door at seven-thirty but instead of heading down the road, i backtracked to the train station where i had seen telephones with data jacks and uploaded the last of my journal for week three.

Last night i decided not to fight the rain anymore. Luckily there was a dryer at the minshuku last night so i was able to dry out everything that had become damp in the rain yesterday. But, i decided to start using a technique that i used to use years and years ago but thought might not be needed with today's new equipment.

From the train station i headed to the convenience store (which in Japanese is Konbiniensu Stoa) and bought a few large plastic garbage bags. I headed off to the nearest coffee shop and, while drinking a cup of coffee, completely unpacked my back pack, put one bag inside the other, and then put the two bags, together, inside my back pack. Once the bags were in place, i then repacked everything making sure to put them inside the plastic bags. Now, even if the rain cover does allow water into the bottom everything should stay dry.

While i was able to dry all the clothes, i found that i lost all of the extra paper i had to yesterday's rain. The paper was special paper that matched the paper in my Nôkyô book and gave me enough sheets to get stamps at all the temples i will visit. The normal books are only made for the main eighty-eight temples with a few extra pages. I need an additional twenty pages for the unnumbered temples i'm stopping at. I hadn't decided what to do when the problem took care of itself later in the day.

Spent the day following the highway through the mountains not far inland. I walked through a tunnel today that was 1.6 km (1 mi) long! Can't say i enjoyed that. But, in general the mountains were beautiful and colorful, as usual. The rains of late have taken all but a rare few of the last cherry blossom leaves off the trees. I miss them already. But the few that are left are still beautiful and the colors still remaining cover every possible side of the color palette. The mountains are still very colorful indeed, even without the cherry blossoms. They just lack that exclamation point that the mountain cherry blossom trees added.

I was really surprised to see a lot of people today were just preparing their fields and haven't planted their rice yet. For some reason i just thought that there was a narrow window in which to get it in the ground and that almost everyone planted at the same time.

But, i watched people planting as long ago as two weeks earlier. And the people around here have more preparations before they can get the seedlings in the ground. I wonder if the window isn't as narrow as i thought or if there are climatic differences that warrant the difference in planting.

I had lunch sitting next to the vending machines again. Had a donut, a ham sandwich, and an egg salad sandwich - all washed down with a Pocari Sweat. It was really good walking weather today; cloudy enough to be cool but not raining so it wasn't cold.

Sometime in early afternoon i saw two elderly women out working in their field. Their rice had already been planted but they were out filling in the gaps by planting by hand, which is the backbreaking work that i talked about earlier. I wanted to take a picture of it, but didn't want to take their picture without their permission.

I went down and talked to the younger sister of the two and she said sure, no problem. It was funny when the older sister, who was covered with mud and really looked a mess, said something to the effect of 'No way, my hair is a mess,' and ran the back of a dirty hand over her head.

She was only joking, though, as she smiled and went back to work. I took her picture while talking to the younger sister who hadn't gotten out into the field yet. She told me he husband had just used their tractor to plant the rice yesterday and it had taken about three and a half hours. They would now spend the entire day filling in the gaps and planting extra seedlings. I was surprised when she said that they only plant one time each year. I know others have told me they plant twice. I wonder why the difference. Maybe they just don't want to plant more than once?

After the picture, i continued on my way until i got to the town about three km (2 mi) before the minshuku where i am spending the night. It never did rain today. I got lucky, i guess. But, because the ground was still wet from the rain yesterday and last night there were precious few places to take a break and sit down throughout the day. A man in a fancy car and a suit and tie offered me a ride today and seemed genuinely surprised when i refused, telling him i preferred to walk. I thanked him, but he just smiled as he drove off.

Few breaks meant that when i got to the town just before my minshuku it was only two o'clock and i had to kill two hours before i could check in. With my feet back in shape it is pretty hard to walk slow enough that 25 km (16 mi) takes all day. I may have to reevaluate my schedule before making more reservations. Maybe i should move my average up to twenty-seven km (17 mi) each day. It's not much extra, but it does add a little time to the amount i walk.

I stopped at the first coffee shop i saw and sat for an hour drinking a cup of coffee and watching TV. After an hour i left and walked across town (about five minutes walk) and stopped at the last coffee shop on that side of town.

While there, i had another cup of coffee and studied my map. After a while i asked the owner about the paper i had lost for my Nôkyô book. I though it was called 'hanshi' in Japanese and wondered what kind of store might sell it. It isn't used for anything except calligraphy practice so asked them if just any store would carry it.

I wasn't surprised when they told me no, but was surprised when they told me that there was a store in town that probably did sell it (the local bunboguya-san). And they asked if i had the time to go get it now. I said yes and asked them to draw me a map, but they said that was much too complicated and that the owner would drive me while his wife watched the shop. I argued for a second, but knew it was hopeless so accepted and we went and returned in all of five minutes. I only needed ten sheets but they were sold in packets of twenty so i bought one of those for a total of sixty cents.

Once back to the coffee shop i picked up my back pack, paid for the coffee, and thanked them numerous times for the help and was on my way. I walked the last three km (2 mi) along the coast again but this time it was rocky with no beaches at all. As before, the road was right at the edge of the coast, but this time it dropped of forty or fifty feet down into the water. The waves breaking along the rocks at the bottom of the drop off made a beautiful sight. I took a few pictures - hope they come out.

When i got to the minshuku and rang the bell i was checked in much, much more informally than i ever have been. The woman simply came to the door, pointed out the bath room (where the bath is), told me my room was upstairs and was room number five, that the bathroom (with the toilets) was also upstairs, and that there was a washing machine up there as well if i wanted to use it.

She said that another guest was getting ready to use the bath and that she would let me know when it was free so i could use it. At that time the other guest came downstairs so she simple asked him to let me know when he was finished. He said OK, i told him my room number, and the owner turned and walked away. No formalities, no showing the room, or any of the other things that most owners do for me. I guess she just assumed if i could reserve the room on my own and had walked this far on my own, i must know the system.

I changed into a yukata and did laundry as soon as i got to my room so that the clothes would have time to dry overnight by simply hanging in my room.

The other guest ate dinner at the same time as i did (as is customary) and it turns out that he is also a retired reporter from the same major daily paper as the man i met several times starting at Temple 11. But, whereas the first man came across as refined and a certain city dweller, always dressed neatly and in a clean jacket, tonight's dinner companion looked like he would fit in perfectly with a group of Cuban freedom fighters.

He came down to dinner in his yukata (as i did) and had the makings of a new beard. It didn't look like he was intending to grow one, just that he had other things to worry about (like his feet) and wasn't the least concerned with the trivial task of shaving.

He had collar length dark gray hair that he kept covered with a bandana laid over the top of his head and then with the ends pulled around the sides and tied in a knot in the back. This left several inches of hair hanging out from around the bottom on all sides. He looked like he belonged on the road and in the mountains instead of in the office somewhere in Tôkyô.

He was very soft spoken, but very well spoken at the same time. I don't think he ever said a word without stopping to think about it for a second or two first. It was as if he was afraid to say something that might misrepresent what he really thought. And, where many people let it pass if they don't understand me from time to time, it was always clear when he hadn't gotten what i was trying to say - his eyebrows would ride way, way up towards the top of his head. He never had to as me to repeat my self because whenever i saw that i would always just automatically say it over again with different words.

He is walking the pilgrimage for the second time. When he walked it the first time he was in his young forties; this time he is sixty-six. He is writing one article each month for the next two years about his pilgrimage and publishing it in the magazine associated with the paper he used to work for. He says that after he writes all the articles, he'll rewrite them and hopefully publish a book on his experiences.

I felt ELATED when the first thing he said to me was "I hate walking on the highways! It isn't fun, it is unhealthy, and it is dangerous." I asked him what differences there were between now and twenty-five years ago and he said that there were three main differences. The first two were the amount of traffic on the roads and the number of bus henro. The growth in the amount of both is hard to believe, he said. He attributes some of it to the bad economy and people looking for answers and help, but he says that the recent popularity can also be attributed to the spate of television programs about the pilgrimage. According to him, the popularity has been going up for quite some time, but the now noticeable large growth in the number of people making the trip is within the past nine years, or so.

The third change he sees is the one that affects the walking henro but not the bus or car henro. When he walked this route twenty-five years ago, walkers were obliged to walk from minshuku to minshuku. You just didn't have a choice in where you wanted to stay; there were very few options available to you. If you started at the same time as someone else, there was a good chance that you would walk the entire pilgrimage with that person. Now, on the other hand, the choices are overwhelming. You can walk just about as little or as far as you want to each day and be fairly assured that there will be a minshuku where you want to stop. (Not 100% true, but very close)

He agrees with me and thinks it makes sense to have separate routes for cars/busses and for walking henro. That would allow us to get off these highways. But, having said that, we both agree that there are serious problems to deal with if that ever happens. There is a compromise going on with the way the pilgrimage is set up right now. By walking on the main roads (with short excursions off and over mountain passes), you are assured of finding restaurants and lodging.

If, on the other hand, you start building a trail system that keeps the walking henro on back country roads and/or mountain trails, people are going to have to figure out how to deal with both food and lodging problems since neither restaurants nor minshuku will be available. There just won't be enough business for them out of the normal pilgrimage seasons to allow them to stay in business. Life just seems to be like that, doesn't it - always dealing with compromises when a nice tidy solution is all you want.

After we talked about the pilgrimage for a while i told him about the other retired reporter that i had spent a few nights with at several minshuku. When i told him his name he said he didn't recognize it but probably had seen his face around the office.

I found it interesting that the man tonight wasn't at all surprised that he didn't know my friend from a few weeks ago. He said the reason was because of their age differences it would be unlikely that they would have met. And their age difference is only 4 years!.

In Japan, almost all white-collar employees are promoted, given assignments, moved around, and paid based strictly on the seniority system. That means you spend your career, a lot of times, working with the same crew that was hired at the same time as you were. You are same-year colleagues, so to speak. So, it isn't just four years that separates these two men (both reporters on the same major paper in the Tôkyô office) but four distinct and completely separate groups of employees.

The weather is supposed to clear up over night and be sunny and warm tomorrow. It is a short 23 km (14 mi) to Temple 38 on Cape Ashizuri so i'm not eating until seven again and will relax and get a late start.

--4/20 Day Twenty-Three--
Woke to a cloudy day, but the skies were broken instead of the 100% overcast that we had yesterday. It is definitely warmer here on the southern end of the island. Later tonight i'm moving my jacket to the bottom of my pack since i haven't used it in a week and with these temperatures doubt that i will again.

The reporter had breakfast before me so that he could get an earlier start. He is walking in the same clockwise direction as i am, but he visited Temple 38 on Cape Ashizuri on Monday and was now taking a different trail than i will to Temple 39. Instead of continuing clockwise, he is backtracking about a day and a half (that is why we met here) to get to a mountain trail that cuts across to the other side and Temple 39. I, on the other hand, will just continue around the coast from 38 to 39.

Before he left we exchanged the name slips that we leave at each of the temples we visit. He is the third person that has asked me to do so. I wonder what i'll do with the ones i've collected?

After the exchange, he brought down copies of four of the articles that he had written for the magazine. I didn't know if he was offering them to me or just showing them to me, so as he was telling me what each was about, when he showed me one and said it was the article he had written about being forced to walk on the highways, i told him that is the one i'd like to read. He gave it to me and told me to take it and read it at my leisure later. Which is what i'll do. Oh well, more kanji practice. :-(

The owner offered me a cup of coffee after breakfast, and while i was drinking that she asked me if i wanted some onigiri (rice balls to eat for lunch) to take with me. I told her no, but she just wouldn't take that as the correct answer. She'd leave the room and come back asking if i was really sure. It soon became obvious that this poor woman wasn't going to sleep tonight if i didn't take the onigiri so i finally broke down and told her OK. But, i told her that i don't like ume boshi (those super-dooper sour pits in the middle) and she assured me that i didn't need them. She would just give me the rice balls with no filling at all.

I paid my bill (6,000 yen) and was surprised when she told me that the onigiri she had prepared (they had something in the rice, but i don't know what), plus the banana and the candy she had included with them, were all settai. No extra charge.

Today was the hardest day of all to date to stay on the trail. I got lost completely one time and am fairly sure that i was lost for a while a second time. The first time, i had this feeling something wasn't right and was really debating what to do when i came across a sign pointing to where i wanted to go. The only problem was that it was pointing in the direction that i was coming from. So, i had no choice but to turn around and backtrack for about one km (.6 mi) to get back to the main road. And, sure enough, there was the sign i had missed telling me to go to the left.

About an hour later i lost the signs and markers again but knew i was going in the right direction so didn't worry as much. This whole end of the island funnels down to a point at Cape Ashizuri so, i reasoned, even if i was on the wrong road i would end up where i needed to be. Once there i just needed to find the temple. After about forty minutes of walking, though, i found another sign and that put me back on the trail again. From there i was OK.

On advantage of being in the wrong place is that i was on a small little road almost all day. Sometimes it would be one lane and sometimes it would widen out to two (or at least one and a half). It was quiet and i passed several fishing villages throughout the day.

The sea coast here on the Ashizuri side just can't be compared to the coast on the Cape Muroto side (the other point sticking out of the bottom of the island- by Temple 24). Ashizuri is so much more dramatic and breath-taking. On the Muroto side, the mountains come down to the town and the road, and then the beaches run into the sea.

Here on the Ashizuri side, though, the mountains run right down to the sea and then simply drop off fifty feet (15 m), or so, right into the water. The edge of the water is full of little islands and the rocks that have fallen off the cliffs as they erode so the waves break over them one after another. It is stuningly beautiful in places. I took a few pictures, but they never seem to do justice to the real view.

As i was walking today i realized that there seem to be a lot more shrines here than what i was used to in Tokushima Prefecture. Is this where that comment "Kôchi Prefecture is still more Shintô than Buddhist" came from? There seemed to be a shrine to one Kami or another around every third corner. I'm sure a lot of them are devoted to what ever Kami controls the ocean, but over the past few days i have seen a lot on little hills near the rice paddies as well.

Speaking of rice paddies, today seemed to be 98% dry crop farming instead of rice. The wet paddies were definitely the exception today. I didn't recognize any of the crops today, though, except the lettuce and the onions.

Temple 38 looked like it has recently been rebuilt. The Daishi temple looked like it was rebuilt within the past year. Every thing was new and shiny, the wood still had that bright, unfaded look to it, and the signage looked new as well. The main temple, while it looked clean and fresh, didn't look that new.

There was a statue of one of the local heroes near the temple. His name is John Manjiro and his story is really quite interesting. He lived in the 1800's and made a living as a fisherman here on Cape Ashizuri in a town called Nakanohama.

In 1841 he had an accident at sea but was saved by an American whaling ship that was home ported in Fairhaven, Massachusetts and happened to be passing the area. The captain of the ship took an interest in him, apparently, and took him home with him and let him live in his house. For the next ten years (until 1851) Manjiro-san lived and studied in Fairhaven.

Until the early 1840's, Japan had a closed country policy and no one was allowed in or out of the country. And, if due to accidents like Manjiro -san's, you did leave you were not allowed to come back alive. This policy was only lifted while Manjiro-san was living in the US. Then, in 1854, Commodore Perry arrived with his guns and demanded that the Japanese open the country to trade with the US. At that time the Tokugawa Shogunate realized that they had a prize possession and that Manjiro-san had talents that they needed - he could speak English and knew about Western culture and education.

Manjiro-san was made a direct retainer to the Tokugawa Shogunate and later, in the beginning years of the Meiji Period, assigned to the first diplomatic mission to be sent to the US. Can you imagine what Manjiro-san thought about his life? Falling overboard in a fishing accident and probably thinking he was going to die. But, instead of dying he becomes a national hero and one of the leaders in the most important diplomatic mission of the days. What a remarkable life. (Reminds me of the story of Ishi, the last indian of a certain tribe in California. He was brought to live at Berkeley and his life changed just as dramatically - maybe even more.)

For the past few weeks (ever since i started down Muroto Cape) i have been spending hours each day watching this bird that looked like a hawk but i wasn't sure. There are a lot of them and they hang around the coast and the harbors. Today, as i was drinking coffee at a coffee shop in front of Temple 38, i finally asked the sales girl what they were called. It turns out that what i have been watching is the Kite.

Being a pilot, i find them incredibly fascinating creatures to watch. They appear to be about a foot and a half long (70 cm) with about the same wing span. Their bodies start out at a point at the beak, widen out gradually, and then narrow down to a very narrow back end just after their bodies. Then, a large perfectly 'V' shaped tail spreads out for another six inches (15 cm).

These birds seem to require no efforts to fly. They soar ever so gracefully hours on end tweaking the 'V' tail just a little to the left or just a little to the right to allow them to bank here and there as they fly in circles over my head.

I'm not sure that i have seen one yet actually flap it's wings. They must have this innate sense of where to find the updrafts that allows them to gain altitude from time to time. Or, maybe their body just senses it the way we sense hot and cold. But, they will ever so slowly circle around the same spot while they gain altitude and then break free and make wide sweeping arcs through the sky as they seem to do nothing but play all day. A magnificent sight to watch. So effortless, and yet so controlled and precise. I wish i could fly like that.

The woman of the minshuku from last night was correct, there were no shops between her minshuku and the temple. So, i was ever so grateful for her persistence in making me take the food she offered. It turned out to be the only thing i could have eaten for lunch. Thank you a hundred times. Of course, there were the standard vending machines on the corners, so i drank Pocari Sweat and talked to Georgia while eating the onigiri and banana.

When i checked in, the owner of the minshuku decided for some as yet unknown reason that i need to have a map of Shikoku. It shows where all the temples are and lists one minshuku in the vicinity of each temple. He said it would be very convenient for me. What i wanted to ask him was why he thought i needed it; didn't he assume i already had one? I am at Temple 38 already and how would i have gotten here (and reserved a room in his minshuku) without already having some sort of guide book. But, being the good person that i am ( ;-) ), i kept my mouth shut and simply agreed that it would be very convenient to have such a map. I accepted it and he was happy - which made me happy.

After giving me the map, the owner asked if raw fish was OK for dinner and when i assured him it was he said that was good news. And i'm happy with the outcome. For dinner i had more katsuo tataki (with onions and garlic), and a whole sliced fish called Kinmedai. Kin means 'gold' and Me means 'eye,' but i have no idea what dai means unless i say that it rhymes with 'die' and most foreigners may die when told they have to eat it.

The meat looks exactly like hamachi to me. What they did to prepare it was to place a little pile of shredded daikon (white radish) on each the left and right sides of an oval shaped plate. They then lay the fish across the plate with the tail on the pile of daikon on the right. They then cut off the head and stand it on end with the mouth pointing towards the ceiling on the pile of daikon on the left.

The meat is then sliced off the bones but very neatly put back in place after it has been skinned, cleaned, and sliced to bite sizes. What you now have, then is a fish with a body of raw slices of meat and a head that is still touching the rest of the skeleton and looks as if it is simple turning it's head to the left to look at you as you eat it. All with these huge gold colored eyes the size of US quarters. But, it was fantastically delicious.

During the day today i made more room reservations from a pay phone by the side of the road. I now have reservations through the 25th of the month. That will put me twenty-four km (15 mi) after Temple 40 at a ryokan named Yoshinoya and close enough to say i'm still on schedule.

Tomorrow's weather is supposed to be as nice as it was today. By late morning the clouds had completely disappeared and it seemed much hotter than the 20 degrees (68 F) that they claim it reached. Tomorrow will be the same and i'll now start my way back to Temple 1.

I don't know why, but i have always considered this temple to be the end of the trip heading out and away from home and everything past here to be the trip heading in and back home. Fo me, once i leave here tomorrow morning i am starting a meandering four and a half week trip back to where i started - even though i know that i am not even half way yet.

--4/21 Day Twenty-Four--
Woke this morning to a wonderful day. The first thing i did was to open the window in my room to let some of the fresh air in. One of the nice things about sleeping in a room next to the ocean is that the air is so fresh and clean.

Standard breakfast of fish, rice, vegetables, and soup. I have come to realize that i just don't like the small fish that they always give you for breakfast. At night, they serve big fish either as raw sashimi or fried/grilled. And that is delicious. But, for breakfast they give you these tiny little things that they fry and that are almost 90% bones and skin. There is so little meat on them that that part of the fish is irrelevant. I have given up trying to make myself eat them. They don't taste bad, just not what i want to eat for breakfast. Give me my cereal, OJ, and coffee!

I got my wish this morning. I was off the highway and on small back roads or mountain trails until around one o'clock this afternoon. The small roads of this morning were the small roads that connected the numerous fishing villages that spring up around each of the little ports in every cove and natural harbor.

When the road would leave one of these towns and then make the meandering trip out and around the next peninsula to get to the next harbor/town, a trail was available that would just take me over the mountain and let me drop back down in the next town. I had a very refreshing and relaxing morning. I wish i could have many more of them like this. Thanks Daishi-sama.

The trails gave out when i got to the town of Shimizu, a rather large town for this part of Shikoku. It was so big, in fact, that it would have taken me a half hour or so to walk from one end to the other, had i done so non-stop.

But, i decided to stop and have a real meal for lunch and save the bread and cake that i bought earlier in the day for tomorrow's snack. I found a little restaurant on the main street and had lunch there. It only had four tables in the whole restaurant and those were all Japanese style, where you had to take your shoes off, sit on tatami, and the table was only a foot high.

I had Katsudon and a gallon of water while i talked to the owner and proprietor. Katsudon is a bowl of rice covered with a piece of breaded and deep fried pork sliced into bite-sized slices, and then topped with a runny sunny side-up egg. Delicious.

The conversation that i had with the proprietor was rather interesting and not the usual "Where are you from? What do you do? Why did you come here? Etc." Instead we talked about a number of interesting subjects of which two were the most interesting.

The first was that she explained to me that the reason that i haven't been seeing Natto (fermented soy beans) at breakfast is because it isn't eaten around here. She says that Natto is a food from the Kantô region (Tôkyô and north) and not from the Kansai area (West and south of Tôkyô) or from the islands of Kyûshû or Shikoku. Needless to say, this doesn't break my heart, as i'm not a big fan of Natto. I can eat it if i have to, but only if i have to. You just can't imagine how much it smells.

She surprised me later in the conversation when she told me (with no prompting) that she sometimes wonders about the future of Shikoku since all the young people have left. When i told her i have wondered the same thing she nodded her head until i thought it would fall off. She says that all the young people have been leaving for Honshû (the main island) in search of work and more interesting work. And they have been leaving for as long as she can remember.

But, she went onto say, since the economy has been so bad in Japan for so long some of the younger generation has been coming back home. The only problem is that there are no, or very few, jobs to come back to. So, those that do come back are forced to settle for part time work. I asked her if she meant part time work like gas station attendants and super markets and she told me yes, that is what she meant.

But, given all of that, Shimizu was an amazing oasis of young people on this island. I saw more younger twenty and thirty-something women with kids while i was waking through this town than i have seen in the entire previous three weeks (outside of Tokushima, of course). There must be some way for this town to support this generation.

While paying the bill for lunch i noticed a calendar with a picture on it hanging on the wall. I think it was a picture of Sakamoto someone-or-other. He is another interesting character who comes from Kôchi Prefecture and i hope to do a little research on him when i return to Chicago. He was a samurai long ago but decided sometime during his life that it was stupid for samurai to wear sandals.

He thought that it would be impossible for men in sandals to stand up against men wearing real boots like they did in the West - no matter how good they were at fighting. So, you had this incongruous picture of Sakamoto-san in full samurai regalia but with boots on his feet. As far as i know, he never convinced any of his colleagues to make the change and he was the only boot wearing samurai in history. There is a statue of him and in his boots somewhere but i haven't found it. I think it may have been back by Temple 28.

I sent a post card to Oliver Statler today telling him that i had passed through one of the Bangai temples that i have been told he was particularly fond of. It is called Iwafûdôji and is in the mountains a few hours walk before Bangai Temple number 5 (Daizenji).

Today was a great walking day, but it got hot. I have been told that it got up to 26 degrees (79 F) toady. And, that the good weather is supposed to continue until next Sunday. I was offered another ride today, this time by a woman. They never seem to say much other than "Get in." When i tell them thank you but i prefer to walk, they just say something like "Oh, you're walking," wave and drive off. No "Where you going?" or "Where you from" or any of the standard questions. I do appreciate the offer, though, even if i have to refuse it.

But, speaking of walking, i didn't see one marker or sign that marks out the route for the last 15 km (9.5 mi) of the day. The trail was well marked all the way up to the entrance into Shimizu City. But, once i got into town they all disappeared. I know i was on the right road all day because the buildings that are referenced on the map i use were all where they were supposed to be. But, from Shimizu all the way to my minshuku for tonight i never saw one marker.

Because of that, i now have a greater appreciation and admiration for those i know who have walked this pilgrimage and who have told me that they neither speak nor read Japanese. I'm amazed actually. I get by OK because i can read the street signs, the names on buildings, etc. and cross check those against the map - which is written 100% in Japanese. And, if i have questions i can always stop someone and ask directions. I have no idea how these others did it.

As i was just about in the town where i would be spending the night, i was surprised when two elementary school girls stopped (on separate occasions) to talk to me. In general children say hello, but almost never try and have a conversation - they usually just stare.

The first girl wanted to know where i was going and why. That made me happy. I told her i was walking around Shikoku but that didn't satisfy her and she asked why. I asked if she knew about the pilgrimage and, when she said yes, told her that i was walking that. She accepted that as sufficient, said thank you, and rode off on her bike.

The second girl said "Hello" to me (in English) as she and a friend rode by on their bicycles. I said hello and then asked her in Japanese if she speaks English. When she said yes i asked her to say something to me. She said, over her shoulder as they started to ride off, "Terrible."

Well, that was the last word i expected her to offer, so i said "Huh?" She repeated it and i just stood there trying to figure out if i had heard wrongly or if that is really what she said. At this point she said, in Japanese, "Do you understand the meaning?" I asked if she had said "Terrible," and when she confirmed it i gave her the Japanese meaning and she said "Yep, that's it."

I asked her if she studied in school, but she told me no, only at home. So, i wished her the best of luck and told her to work hard. She said thanks and they left down the road laughing their heads off. Now why in the world would she choose the word "terrible" out of all the possible words she could have shown off with??

As i got even closer to the minshuku, i noticed a woman getting on a moped in front of a grocery store i was approaching and she was spending a lot of time staring at me. My nose has pretty much healed and i don't limp anymore so i didn't think it was because i was outstandingly ugly, but didn't know what was going on. So, when i got up to her i said hello. She asked if i was going to Hamayuu, the name of the minshuku where i am staying tonight. (I tell you, foreigners really stick out here on Shikoku!)

I guessed immediately that she was probably the owner and she confirmed my suspicions. She said that my room was ready and told me that i only had to walk about another fifteen minutes or so, maybe only ten. I thanked her and we each set off, her on her moped and me walking.

When i checked in, i had to wait until five-thirty for my bath. That was a long wait. I like to get in as soon as i can to soak my tired feet. But maybe tonight five-thirty was as soon as i could.

The floors in the halls of the minshuku are hardwood and squeak terribly. It reminds me of Nijo Castle in Kyôto. If i remember correctly Nijo Castle (it really isn't a castle at all) was the residence that the Tokugawa Shôgun lived in whenever he was visiting Kyôto. That building had the floors designed so that they squeaked in just a special way whenever they were walked on to warn of intruders.

The minshuku of the past several nights have all had coin operated TVs and i refuse to pay the 100 yen for a few hours of television. So, no baseball for the past few nights. Oh well...

Dinner tonight included the same Kinmedai that i had last night at Cape Ashizuri. Tonight, however, it wasn't raw sashimi but grilled, with a little dab of salt on the outside. When it is grilled, the meat changes from the light, almost translucent, pink color that it has when it is raw to a very soft and white meat. Again it was delicious. In addition i had three snails and a bowl of a dozen, or so, different shelled something or others that i have no idea what they were. The owner came in and said that i had probably never had them before and when i agreed showed me how to open them and eat them. I splurged and washed it all down with a beer. (Which i shouldn't do. When i have a beer, i can't sleep.)

Tomorrow i will stop at a shrine called Tsukiyama Jinja (Moon Mountain Shrine) for no other reason than that Oliver Statler, in his book Japanese Pilgrimage, said that he stopped there. I have absolutely no idea what to expect. I'll find out tomorrow.

As a further sign that there are young people still on this island, the men in the room next door are playing the radio and it is pretty heavy rock. They sound like they could be in their young twenties from what i hear through the wall. This is the first time i have ever heard something like this in a minshuku - they are usually very quiet and subdued places with every one in bed early.

I will sleep with all the windows open tonight since it is still so incredibly nice outside. Only problem is that open windows let in the mosquitoes. Oh well...just like in Africa. Shikoku reminds me so much of Cameroon from time to time that i am constantly having flashbacks.

Tomorrow i will only walk until sometime between two and three o'clock. When i made reservations the minshuku owner asked me to check in early, and defined that to be around two or three. I never did understand why but agreed and will consider it a day off. I'll end up only walking twenty-two km (13.5 mi) before calling it a day.

--4/22 Day Twenty-Five--
Sometime early in the morning i woke to the sound of rolling thunder somewhere off in the distance. It wasn't loud and it wasn't often but it did sound a warning.

It was warm when i got up, and while it was overcast and gray at least it wasn't raining. Had a late breakfast of the usual rice, soup, a few vegetables, and tea and was out the door at seven-thirty. The owner told me that i should take the mountain trail (which could be a trail or a road) instead of the road along the ocean as it is the shorter route to Temple 39.

When i explained that i wanted to visit Tsukiyama Jinja so i had to take the road along the coast, she gave me a few directions for the various intersections i would come across as i progressed.

On my way out of town i ran into Terrible-san again on her way back into town for school. I asked her if she could give me a different word this morning and she fished a notebook out of her pack to look one up. While she was doing that i found out that she and her friend are in fourth grade. I never did get another word out of her as her friend's cat came by and they had to chase it back home so it wouldn't follow them to school.

I spent the first two hours of the morning walking in and out of tunnels along the coast highway. Some were short but a couple were almost 1 km (.6 mi) long. Sometime while i was inside of tunnel number one it started to rain. It was overcast on one side of the mountain and solid rain on the other.

The bad news is that tunnels are not a fun place to walk. The exhaust from the cars and trucks stinks and it can be incredibly noisy. The good news is that while walking in a tunnel you don't get wet. But before leaving the tunnel i had to break out and put on the rain suit and backpack cover and then get out my umbrella.

As i went into tunnel two it was still raining but as i came out the other side it was only sprinkling. As i got out of the other side of tunnel three it was just a light on again and off again sprinkle. I wanted to get out of my rain suit because it was so warm and i was working up a sweat just walking in it. But, because of the occasional light sprinkles i kept it on; in case it got serious again.

I finally broke down and decided i had to get out of the rain suit - i was getting wetter inside the suit from the build up of moisture inside than i would have been had i just walked without it in the occasional sprinkles. And, nature being what she is, as soon as i committed to taking the suit off the rain committed to stopping all together. I guess it was only waiting to see how long it could bluff me into keeping it on.

I got to Tsukiyama Jinja a little before noon and found that there wasn't much to it. It appears to be made of two buildings crowded together on a small plot of land, one that houses the actual shrine itself and another little shrine that sits on the side. The main shrine is dedicated to the mythical Goddess Amaterasu Omikuni, who is credited with creating the country of Japan. I don't know who the little shrine on the side is dedicated to.

Both buildings look like they have been around for several hunderd years as the wood is extremely faded and well worn. The main shrine is housed, as is often the case, inside another building. The outside building has what appears to be a sitting chamber in the front with a curtain at the back of that room. Behind the curtain you go up a short set of stairs into the main back part of the building. There, in that back portion of the building, is where the main shrine to Amaterasu is located. That is a small building itself about 1.5 m (5 ft) square and about the same high. I have no idea what is inside as i have never seen the inside of one of these shrines. I sure would like to some day, though.

I sat on the front step of the shrine and ate a ham sandwich and an apple for lunch while it rained. It had started just after i got there and under cover - good timing, i think. The rain only lasted about 15 minutes and when it ended, a woman came out of the house that was adjacent to (and obviously a part of) the shrine. It turns out that she was the wife of the shrine's priest.

We talked for a while and i found out that her husband is the fourteenth generation from the same family to be the shrine priest here. It has been handed down in the family for 14 generations! Isn't that amazing.

When i asked if an oldest son would be inheriting the shrine some day (she appeared to be in her late sixties) she said no, it would go to their daughter. I was surprised that was legal in chauvinist Japan, but she just laughed and said yes, women can inherit shrines.

I admitted i didn't understand something, though. If the daughter takes over the shrine and gets married wouldn't the shrine then go to another family? In Japan just like everywhere, as far as i know, when women marry they take the husband's name. The woman told me that the daughter is already married and already has grandkids. But, when they got married the husband took the wife's family name so when the daughter takes over the shrine she will still be the 15th generation in the same family to run it.

I asked her how old the temple was, and she said that she really didn't know. She reminded me that before the Meji Restoration (1868) forced the separation of Shintô and Buddhism, there wasn't this current division between Buddhist temples and Shintô shrines. The two religions had merged back before the time of Kûkai in the 9th century. Both had borrowed so much from each other that they became inseparable. You were left with one indistinguishable mixture and temples and shrines occupied the same buildings. It was the same here at what is now called Tsukiyama Shrine.

But, if her husband is the 14th generation priest at the shrine, and the Meiji Restoration took place 131 years ago, that probably means that this family has served as the priest here since before Shintôism and Buddhism were formally separated.

The wife went back into the house and left me to finish my lunch, but soon came back out and gave me settai of a five individually wrapped slices of cake and a bottle of Life Guard Bionic Drink, a carbonated sports drink. Can't say that i liked it much but i drank it because i was thirsty and because it was given to me.

Since i had promised to check in between two and three o'clock i left the shrine at twelve-thirty and headed on my way. I was as far out in the country side today as i have even been in this country. I walked on the side of the first ridge just inland from the ocean with nothing between the Pacific and me. On the other side of me there was nothing as far as you could see but more forested mountains. It was quiet, calm, and beautiful. I saw a very beautiful blue bird once, but never saw it again. There wasn't even any traffic on the road, which's how remote this area is. As i got closer to the town where i would be staying traffic increased to an annoying level of about a car every fifteen minutes, or so.

I saw a grand total of two (count them - TWO) markers today that are supposed to mark the route i walk. That makes two markers in one and a half days. That is a terrible record. In general it hasn't caused trouble as there are other signs and markers that i can use. But today i ran into an intersection on the deserted remote road that i said i had been walking. There were no markers, no signs, no nothing to indicate which way was the way to go.

I guessed based on the direction i thought i needed to go, but was getting worried as i kept walking because i saw nothing to confirm or deny my choice. I was just walking deeper and deeper into the woods on a little single lane road. Finally after about twenty-five minutes a car came along and i flagged him down. When i showed him the map he confirmed that i was on the right road and that it would take me where i wanted to go. I was definitely relieved because if i had had to go back to that last intersection it would have meant i had wasted an hour.

I got to town and checked in promptly at two as requested. I asked why she wanted me to check in so early and she said that that is when most people start checking in. I told her that in most minshuku i thought that check-in is usually around four o'clock but she just mumbled something i couldn't understand so i let it drop.

She brought me some iced tea (but i have no idea what type of leaves - it was new to me) and a few things to eat to tide me over until dinner. I took a bath at three and she washed my clothes for me. She hung them outside under the awning until after dinner, but when i finished eating we moved them up to my room. It is raining again so i'll be surprised if they are dry by tomorrow.

I was the only customer in the house until someone else showed up - after five o'clock. For dinner i had something that looked just like Maguro (Tuna) but the owner said it was called Kobin and said that it is baby Maguro. It was delicious, but i would swear even by the taste that it was Maguro. Along with that i had potatoes and lotus, Unagi (eel, but not served raw. It is grilled in a deep, thick sauce), rice, soup, and tea.

Tomorrow i visit Temple 39, the last temple in Kôchi Prefecture. Sometime on Saturday morning i'll pass into Ehime Prefecture, the third of the four i walk through. It is hard to believe that i have already walked through two of the prefectures. I'll start visiting temples more frequently now that i have passed Cape Ashizuri. From here it will be a rare day that i don't visit at least one temple.

The weather report just said that they are predicting rain for all day tomorrow and possibly through Saturday and into Sunday. You know, one way to look at it is that if i have to wear my rain suit and carry the umbrella, the back pack is lighter because it has less in it.

--4/23 Day Twenty-Six--
Had a semi-western breakfast this morning of ham and eggs. They served me a slice of ham about a half an inch (1 cm) thick with one egg fried sunny-side up. I don't even eat that at home, but it was a nice treat. But, since i'm in Japan that was served with the mandatory bowl of rice and miso soup.

It rained all night as far as i know. At least it was raining when i went to sleep at nine-thirty and still raining this morning when i got up at six. It looked really nasty outside while i was eating breakfast, but once i got out the door at seven-fifteen it turned out to be not so bad.

I walked for the first forty-five minutes in a steady but not overbearing rain. Around eight o'clock, though, it slowed to a very mild drizzle. However, i stayed in the rain suit until nine just in case it started again. Since it didn't and didn't look like it was going to, i stopped at a coffee shop at nine and used the break as a chance to take off and repack the rain suit. After that i walked with just an umbrella for the next several hours.

The owner of the coffee shop was a very interesting woman. She was at least in her upper sixties and sat at the table of every customer that come in to talk to them. When everyone else had left it was my turn and we chatted about America and Japan. When i asked her a question about the map, she took it and spent the next five minutes with her nose literally buried in the book studying each and every word and marking written on the page i used today. As she studied it she would point out things from time to time to make sure i noticed them and tell me why i needed to remember it. Very interesting woman.

After that i just walked in a light sprinkle until about eleven o'clock when it started to rain again. At that time i had to stop and redon the rain suit as i was really getting wet. Most of the problem was that the wind today was terrible. It was blowing so hard that most of the time the rain was falling almost horizontally. Maybe, in all seriousness, the angle was no more than twenty degrees. I walked from eleven until after three-thirty with the umbrella held in front of me, not over my head. That is the only way i could see. The wind was blowing the rain directly into my face.

I stopped around one o'clock for lunch at a yakiniku (fried meat) restaurant. They serve you a plate of sliced raw beef, green peppers, and cabbage. You then fry all of that on a grill over a hot fire. You then dip it in a special sauce and eat it. Nothing raw at this meal. While i usually eat very little beef, it was delicious.

After i left the restaurant and had been walking for about thirty minutes, a man pulled up next to me on his moped. He looked to be in his forties and wanted to know where i was from and where i was going. When i told him, he told me that i had to walk straight ahead and when i thanked him he told me that i would find a coffee house at the top of the hill, about one km (.6 mi) down the road. When i said OK, he surprised me by saying that he would be waiting for me there. I had no idea what he meant, but said OK and he took off.

And, sure enough, when i was about one km up the road i heard him shout to me from the door of a coffee shop across the street. As i crossed the street he waived for me to come inside and went back in. When i got in he was sitting at a table working on his second bottle of beer next to a large kerosene space heater with a tea pot sitting on top steaming away.

He asked if i wanted beer or coffee and i told him i preferred the coffee because it was cold and rainy outside. The owner, a quiet woman in her fifties or sixties, greeted me and told me to sit down while she made it. We then sat and chatted for the next thirty minutes. It felt good to get in out of the rain and wind, even if i had just had lunch only a half hour ago.

After i had told him all about where i worked and what i do, i asked him what he did. I was curious since it was only two o'clock, give or take, on a Friday afternoon and he was sitting here drinking beer. He took me by surprise with his answer, though.

He said, in terrible English, that his profession was the "old profession." When i replied with my typically dignified "Huh?" he repeated it. At that point i got it - he works in the world's oldest profession. Then he proudly held up three fingers and told me he's been in the business for thirty years. And, since he is now fifty years old, he figured he started when he was twenty years old.

We then went through the conversation i expected - comparing Japanese and American women and trying to decide which are more beautiful. He seemed content when i told him it seems to always come down to "The grass is always greener on the other side of the fence." In fact, that made him laugh and he said i must be smart. (It's rare i get called that so it was amusing to receive the compliment in the middle of this conversation.)

When it became obvious that we weren't going to get off onto another topic, and i couldn't see continuing it, i said i had to leave to get to the temple before they close. I left and went in search of my minshuku and the temple, which were right next door to each other.

When i got to the temple, after walking all day in the rain, i wasn't in the least surprised to find that once again i could see nothing of the interior of either the main temple or the Daishi temple. So, i got my book stamped, took a few pictures, and then headed back down the road to my minshuku and a hot bath.

While i was taking a bath the owner threw my clothes in the washing machine. While i was eating she took them out and put them in a basket for me to take to my room and hang on a clothesline stretched along one of the walls.

There was absolutely no way i was going to eat all that they served me tonight and told them before i even started. They just said that it wasn't a problem and that i should just eat what i could and be sure to try a little of everything. Which is exactly what i did. There was Maguro (Tuna) and Katsuo Tataki (Bonito) sashimi, shrimp, Konyaku, Lotus root, tempura, rice, miso shiru, and strawberries. I ate a little of each but came nowhere near to eating all of any of them, except the tuna sashimi.

While i ate they sat around and we talked about this and that. The hardest thing to explain was why a couple of kids would do what they did in Denver yesterday. It has been all over the news last night and today. If i understood the news correctly a couple of kids blew themselves up at a school - one in the library and one in the dining hall. Unfortunately about twenty others were killed with them.

Tomorrow i'm off to Temple 40 where i'll spend the night in a minshuku very near the front gate.

I did a lot of thinking and debating today and decided to just get it over with and say that this pilgrimage just is not worth it. It isn't worth the money i am paying to do it and it isn't worth the time it is taking to walk it. It isn't what i expected and it isn't something that i will recommend anyone else to do.

I have said from the beginning that all i hope for and expect is to finish the trip once i started - and i will do that. Happily and willingly, but for reasons completely different than what i originally came over for. And, i won't ever regret having done it. However, i will always know that neither the time nor the money was well spent.

On and off for most of the morning i was on the side of the highway again. But for numerous stretches i was only given about six inches (15 cm) to walk on. That meant that my right boot was off the highway and my left boot was on the white line. Since this is a national highway, drivers assume that they have the right of way. Given that my left foot was on the white line, that means that my shoulder, part of my pack, and part of the umbrella were in the road. And, occasionally the six inches that i was given were flooded and i had to walk entirely on the road.

Japanese roads are not like roads in the US. They are not built with room to spare. I would venture to bet that if you took the larger trucks on the road and drew a line straight down from the edges of the left and right outside mirrors, one line would touch the white line on the side of the road and the other would touch the yellow line in the center of the road.

If parts of my body are inside of those lines and their mirrors go all the way to those lines, that means there is a greater than zero probability that at some time there is going to be a meeting of the two. I know that sooner or later i am going to die. But i do not want it to be on the front fender of a truck in Shikoku when the driver happens to be lighting a cigarette, opening a can of coffee, or dialing his cell phone and strays a measly 6 inches (15 cm) to the side only to see me when it is already too late.

I enjoy life often enough to understand what that means and can't fool myself into thinking that i am enjoying myself when i have to do that. I haven't actually feared for my life in as many years as i can remember but today i actually did. And, that isn't what i came to experience.

There is no real historical evidence for why there are eighty-eight temples on this pilgrimage. There is no real evidence on why the temples that are included were chosen to be included. But, there seems to be enough evidence to tell us that the pilgrimage started when holy men and women started coming to Shikoku in the 9th century in search of Kôbô Daishi's spirit. They didn't come in search of these eighty-eight temples, these developed as a response to their continued trips to the island.

This begs the question on whether or not the pilgrims of old would have ever continued to come if they had to walk under these same conditions. I hesitate not one millisecond in saying that they would not have. Either other trails and roads would have been developed or the pilgrimage would have died out long ago. The pilgrims that started this tradition were looking for the spirit of Kôbô Daishi and that is not going to be found on the side of a national highway worried about your safety. They would have come, gone to the few important temples, and then left the island to the cars and trucks.

This pilgrimage has become a vehicular pilgrimage and nothing more. All that is important to the pilgrimage is how many people can be funneled through the temples and how many Nôkyô books can be stamped and charged for. There is no need to open the temples to the public, there is no need to find safe places for people to walk, there is no need to worry about walkers at all because their numbers are negligible and ignorable with no consequences.

I have resigned myself to living with a certain amount of anger for extended periods of time each day. But i can do that. I don't know how many people remember those old percolator coffeepots. When you first turn them on or put them over the campfire they did nothing. Then after a while you could hear the water start to heat up and then all of a sudden you would see a shot of clear water jump up into the little glass bubble on the top.

If you continued to watch, you would see the that over time the amount of water percolating to the top would slowly increase. And, the color would slowly change from clear to a light brown to a dark, almost black color. With the water vigorously percolating to the top in a serious boil.

My anger when i have to walk on the side of the roads is exactly like that pot. I can watch my anger slowly start to boil up and work up from a clear, happy attitude to a dark black and roiling anger at everything and everybody. But, since i can watch it in a fairly unemotional state i have learned to accept it. It's like walking with the pain of my previous blisters. You just accept that the anger is there, don't fight it, and know that it will go away sooner or later. Then as i get closer to another town, the sidewalks appear again and my anger disappears immediately.

That is just going to be the life i live for the next month. I now accept it. But, by admitting that the pilgrimage just isn't worth what it is taking, i can now put to rest the continual debate that i have had with myself almost every day. I can leave the subject alone and don't need to deal with it any more. I am happier now that i've done that.

Everyone agrees that the temples are not the heart of this pilgrimage. But it can not be said that they are insignificant. I defy anyone to show me a book about the pilgrimage that focuses on anything other than the temples and the legend of Kôbô Daishi. This pilgrimage is easily romanticized and everyone does it. Therefore, those that have the best experiences probably are those that do this in sections, thus allowing themselves the chance to focus on those temples and legends and to forget the roads during the periods that they aren't walking. That is all i will ever recommend to anyone.

From today my focus has changed and, instead of walking from temple to temple, i am walking from minshuku to minshuku. My focus will now swing to the conversations i am able to have with the owners while eating dinner. I meet no one on the highways, so that, and the people i meet in coffee shops, are my only contacts. I have tried twice to talk to the people who stamp my book at the temples about the legends and the pilgrimage and both times have been told that they don't know all that much - that is the job of the priest.

I have given up on the temples as a waste of time. I'll continue to get the rest of the stamps since i have already started, but the book won't have the value and memories that i had thought it would. I can learn more about the temples from the books available in the bookstores than i can by actually visiting them.

Oh well, life is like this sometimes, isn't it. My recommendations for people to follow depend on what you are looking for.

If you are coming for the religious pilgrimage, spend the money that you would have spent on minshuku for two months and take the bus tour. The cost could be comparable.

If you are coming for the religious discipline you think you will find on the road, take the money and go to a monastary for a two-month intensive training program. If you are attracted to Shingon Buddhism, try and go to Mount Kôya. If the sect isn't important, there are numerous Zen temples in Japan that accept foreigners and will put you through the paces.

If you are coming just to see the country and meet people, take the time before coming to choose a dozen towns and then take the train and bus form one to the other. Spend a half-week or so in each town and just get out and meet the people. You will learn more than you will learn by walking by yourself on the side of the road.

OK, i guess i've vented enough. I'm going to watch baseball for the rest of the night and then get some sleep. Tomorrow's weather is supposed to be cloudy but no rain.

--4/24 Day Twenty-Seven--
Instead of a cloudy day, as was forecast, the day opened to clear and bright skies. It was everything that yesterday wasn't. Even the wind had died down.

For breakfast i had an almost 100% western breakfast. No rice, no soup, no tea. Instead they gave me several slices of toast and a cup of coffee. The change in pace was very refreshing. I said almost 100% western because in addition to that they also served me a salad of lettuce, cucumber, and tomatoes. I have to admit that i didn't eat much of that - i just can't consider a salad as part of my breakfast menu. I guess it's a cultural thing.

My clothes weren't quite dry, but they were close enough that i wore them anyway. I knew they would dry as soon as i started waking and my body temperature started to go up. And they did. They were dry within the first hour.

When i tell you this next thing, i don't doubt that most of you will say "So what, everybody knows that." Well, if i ever learned it in the past, somehow it completely slipped my mind.

Last night was not the only night i have showed up at the minshuku door with wet boots on my feet. And, if i was in the US i would fret about having to put on damp boots the next morning. But not here. As soon as i get out of the wet boots, the owners have always immediately handed me some old newspaper. I then cram some down into the toes of each boot and let it sit like that overnight.

By the next morning the newspaper has absorbed all the moisture from the previous day and is damp to the touch itself. But, i then put on almost completely dry boots before heading out. Amazing, isn't it.

When i paid my bill this morning, i found that it was only 4,000 yen ($34, and the usual is 6,500 yen). When i made a comment on it being so cheap, the owner told me that it is normally 5,000 yen, but that for walkers she reduces it to 4,000. I left about a quarter past seven and the owner told me that i could take my time and walk slowly as Temple 40 was very close to Temple 39, in front of which i spent the night. He said that he could drive there in just forty minutes. When i told him that it was thirty km (19 mi) and that it would take me all day even if i walked quickly, he never seemed to hear me. As i was walking away he was telling me to take it slowly, no need to hurry.

In response to my anger yesterday, i never once walked on the side of a highway today. I spent the first few hours simply walking back through the town i had passed through last night to get to the minshuku, but did it on the side streets of the town itself and not the highway that runs along side of it.

All through town i was bombarded by the sound trucks of candidates in tomorrow's local elections. I haven't seen this in any country other than Japan, although that doesn't mean that other countries don't do it.

When a candidate is running for office, in the weeks preceding the elections, he or she rents a car or van with several huge loud speakers mounted on the roof. They then have someone drive them around town all day, every day, calling out their name, promising to solve all the world's problems, and asking everyone to vote for them. And that spiel takes about 15 seconds. They then repeat it over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and ....... again and again - all day long.

From what i can tell from the posters there are about a dozen candidates this time and they were out in full force today. The noise and the blare could be heard all over town, no matter where you were. In fact, as i tell you i was up in the mountains today keep in mind that, even though i couldn't see the town anymore, i could still hear an occasional candidate begging for people's votes.

Once i got to the edge of town i spent the next three hours, or so, walking in the mountains, going over one ridge after another and dropping into each town in between. You couldn't call any of them a town really as each was just a "shuhen" in Japanese, which i'll translate as a different "area" of the big town i had spent the night in. But each was isolated and distinct from all the others and none of them had any more than twenty houses or so. They were all farming communities with a few houses having a couple of cows and bulls. The way to look at it is, i think, that in each ravine that works it's way up into the mountains from the port and the main town down below, a community of houses settled there to farm what flat land is available.

For one stretch, though, i passed no towns as the trail simply took me to the top of the mountain and then brought me back down on the other side in a completely different valley. Going up was steep and the trail didn't appear to be used much. In fact, it was marked on trail signs as the old henro trail. I guess that means old, as opposed to the new, modern, henro bus trail. However, once i got to the top i found a picnic area and a regular, well-maintained and groomed trail going down the other side. On this side of the mountain the trail even had nice guardrails in place where needed. Obviously this trail to the picnic area was well used. Going down was easy and took no time at all.

Once down from the top, i once again walked through a few more small communities. As i was walking through one such community i passed a house with two ladies out front weeding the garden (or so i guessed). I heard one of them say, in a rather shocked voice, "foreigner" as i passed and smiled to myself as i kept walking. But, i hadn't gotten 30 m (20 ft) further when they called me back and asked if i would like some tea as settai.

I accepted gladly and before they could possibly take back their offer. I was incredibly thirsty and have found that they haven't put the vending machines along the mountain trails yet. The climb up the mountain on the other side had taken its toll on my throat. I was given iced tea and a very delicious "country anpan." I don't know what else to call it. An anpan, as i've explained before, is roll with a red bean paste filling. But, the usual anpan has bread on the outside. In fact, if you look at the word anpan, the "pan" part is the Japanese word for "bread," and the "an" part is short for the word "ango," which is what the filling is called.

They called this treat today an "inaka no anpan." "Inaka" means the countryside, the boonies, etc. Sort of like what a lot of people in Chicago consider Iowa to be. So, this means "Anpan from the countryside." But in this case the outside isn't made of bread at all, but made of a wheat flour dumpling. Exactly like the white, fluffy dumplings i eat from time to time. And, the difference was amazing. These were even more delicious than the normal anpan.

After my tea and anpan, i headed out and worked my way along the side of a mountain road, but one with little traffic. It was quiet and peaceful and i got to chat from time to time with a few farmers standing around by their fields.

Around twelve-thirty i was starting to get hungry as the anpan earlier had reminded my stomach that it was time to eat. Luckily i stumbled across a public picnic table at what appeared to be a community picnic spot. I had a ham and egg salad sandwich and another anpan before just relaxing for a little while. It was then time to head on my way again.

I got to town around two-fifteen, or so, but had no intention of going all the way to the Temple today. As i have said before i have 25 km (15.5 mi) feet. I can walk that day in day out every day of the week. But add much more than that and these poor puppies really start to hurt. Therefore, my plan was to stop for the night at the minshuku after 28 km (17 mi) and then visit the temple on my way out of town tomorrow morning (the temple is another 2 km/1.5 mi).

All through the day the signs and markers put up by the organization that publishes the map book i'm using all coincided with the signs and markers that have been put up by the prefectural government. Once i was in town a little after two o'clock, though, one of the prefectural signs said to zig and since i saw nothing posted by the other group that said to zag instead, i zigged with the prefectural sign. I should have zagged. I don't know where to, but the zig didn't do the trick.

When i finally realized that i was on the wrong road and had passed my minshuku for the night, i decided to continue following the signs i was already following all the way to Temple 40 and then return to the minshuku after that. I knew that would mean a 32 km (20 mi) day, but, oh well. I had already passed the minshuku in any case.

I got to the temple at three o'clock, got my book stamped, took a few pictures, and then headed back towards my minshuku. Also in response to my anger yesterday, the main temple was open for all to see. In fact, you get your book stamped right inside the temple. The priest was even there to answer question if you wanted to talk to him (which i didn't).

I couldn't find the minshuku as it isn't where the map books says it is, as far as i can tell. I finally found it (with the help of a lot of friendly people) and checked in a little after five o'clock. Had a cup of tea while i rested my aching feet, took a bath and soaked for about fifteen minutes, and then had dinner at six. Again, in response to my anger last night and my comment that i will simply concentrate on talking to the people i meet at the minshuku, i was served dinner in my room, by myself, and found that breakfast will be the same. That has to make you smile. I think i broke into a light chuckle.

For dinner i had sashimi of tuna and octopus, grilled Tai (Sea Bream), tonkatsu, rice, and miso shiru. As usual it was all delicious. As i only walk 26 km (16 mi) tomorrow, i asked her to give me breakfast at seven o'clock. I'll leave around seven-thirty and take my time.

I have made it a practice not to edit previous days writings. In fact, i seldom reread what i wrote on previous days after one final spelling check on the night i write it. But, since i knew i was angry last night, i have reread the appropriate section of last night's tantrum.

While i see nothing that i don't still agree with today, i do want to make it clear that as mad as i get, as angry as i can be with having to walk on the side of busy, narrow roads, i will not quit until i return to Temple 1 on, or around, May 21st. Quitting is simply not an available option. Nor a part of my character. However, i will now be walking to meet and talk with whoever i can out and about. This no longer has anything to do with the legend and history of Kôbô Daishi or the temples. But, i will finish. That is certain.

The TV tonight is coin operated so i get no baseball again. Rats. I think i'm going to put out the futon and read a book tonight until lights out. I'll write more tomorrow, on the last night of week four. I am amazed that one month has already passed. I just don't see how that is possible - or where the time has gone. But, you should see my tan. :-)

--4/25 Day Twenty-Eight and the End of Week Four--
What a perfect way to finish the week.

I had asked for breakfast at seven o'clock so i tinkered around with my backpack in my room from six, when i woke up, until the owner brought my breakfast to my room. It was the standard breakfast but she brought me a pitcher of cold water with it because i had asked for water with dinner last night. I don't drink enough water throughout the day so have taken to asking for some at dinner each night. This morning, she brought the tea pot with the tea leaves in it, but in her desire to bring the cold water she completely forgot to bring the hot water to make the tea. Oh well, i could live without it for a morning.

I didn't leave until seven-thirty and walked slowly as i only had 26 km (16 mi) to walk. On the way out of town i passed some students in their school uniforms and asked them if they were going to school. When they said yes, i reminded them that it was Sunday and that, even in Japan, there isn't school on Sunday. They told me that it was just for a test but i didn't ask them what kind of test needed to be taken on Sunday because they seemed to be in a hurry. I just told them that in the US tests on Sunday are illegal, wished them the best, and went on my way.

At nine-thirty i decided to stop for a cup of coffee at what my map seemed to indicate was the last coffee shop before heading out into the country. I'm a pretty goofy person, i've decided. I will not pay the minshuku 100 yen (85 cents) for about two hours of TV, but i will, with little hesitation, stop at a coffee shop once or twice a day and plop down 350 yen (3 dollars) for a cup of coffee - with no refill. Anyone that says that caffeine isn't a drug or addicting is nuts.

In front of the coffee shop the owner had planted grass and turned what is normally wasted space into a putting green. There were five men out there putting around in circles at the one cup at each end of the green. And, as the owner probably hoped, they all came in and asked her to bring them coffee to drink while waiting their turns.

When i left i walked until about eleven o'clock when i decided to stop at a vending machine for one last Pocari Sweat before heading up into the mountains for the rest of the afternoon. Since the vending machines were on the other side of the road in what looked like a rest park, i turned around to check for oncoming traffic before crossing.

When i turned around, i noticed a woman running my way on my side of the street. She was running just as fast as a woman in a long skirt and sandals could probably run. When she saw me look at her she waived to let me know that she wanted me to stop. Of course, since i hadn't stopped anywhere since the coffee shop, i couldn't have forgotten anything or dropped anything, so i immediately guessed that she was going to give me settai.

As she approached, i apologized for making her run and sure enough, all she wanted was to give me an envelope with some money as settai. I thanked her several times, but thought it would be rude to open and look inside until she was gone. She didn't want to talk and simple turned around and went back up the road with me thanking her backside as she walked away. I later looked and she had given me 500 yen.

I used the settai to buy my Pocari Sweat and sat down to drink that and eat the last of my "inaka no anpan." As i was relaxing a man came up and sat next to me and we chatted about the pilgrimage for about fifteen minutes. He was there with a bunch of other men and they had set up a sign on the road as if they were having some kind of reunion or club meeting on a picture perfect warm Sunday afternoon. He offered me a beer, but i told him i had to walk fifteen more km (9 mi) and if i drank the beer, it would be pretty hard to do that in this heat. He laughed and said yeah, i guess that's true.

He had grown up in the area and knew the mountain trail that i was looking for very well so explained where it was, how to get to it, and what to expect. He said that years ago he used to take the kids up there hiking all the time. When i left i headed down the road looking for the post office he told me would be the marker for where i needed to turn. After walking for a while and still not seeing it, i decided to stop for a second at a phone by a building and call a minshuku to reserve a room for tomorrow night. As i got to the phone, i realized that i was standing in front of the post office and when i turned around, sure enough there was the trail marker. I would have missed it had i not stopped to use the phone.

This sort of thing just seems to happen too often and is getting scary. As another example, a few days ago as i was walking to Temple 39, it was raining when i got to town and instead of turning right on a street i turned left. I was following the street signs and left or right was Highway 56 - i had simply turned the wrong direction. For some reason, within 50 m (160 ft) of turning i decided that maybe i should stop at a gas station and use the bathroom since the temple was still a long way off. And, while i was there, even though i knew where i was and where i was going, i asked the gas station attendant about the directions. He shocked me when he told me to go back the direction i had come from. We argued, but i gave in and it turned out that he was correct. Why did i decide to stop? Why did i decide i had to use that phone which turned out to be in front of the post office?

After reserving a room for tomorrow, i followed the side streets until i got to the mountain and the trail head where i started the one hour climb up to the top. I had walked for about fifteen minutes just day dreaming and watching the scenery when all of the sudden something caught my attention at the periphery of my vision. I glanced up just in time to see the last meter (3.3 ft) of a snake slither off the trail and over the edge of the hill. It was about one inch (2.5 cm) in diameter and probably just that 1 m (3.3 ft) long. Most likely it was not the poisonous mamushi snake that lives in Shikoku since my guidebook said that they are brown and much shorter. But, i can assure you that that changed my attitude about this trail 100%. From then on i watched nothing but the trail and made sure to hit the ground with my walking stick with every other step or so (snakes can feel the vibrations and they leave before you get there - or so the theory goes).

When i got to the top, i was following the back side of the ridge for about another hour when all of the sudden i kept hearing noises ahead. After the snake i had no idea what to expect so stopped to listen. When i stopped i heard the noises again, but also heard the tinkle of a little bell. The kind that many henros hang on their packs or walking sticks. As i came around the next corner i met two women henros standing there reading a trail sign.

I stopped and said hello and they said - it's him! We sat down on a log in front of the trail sign and chatted and exchanged those name slips that we leave at the temples (although i admit i'm getting slack about doing it). They are walking bits and pieces of the pilgrimage a few days at a time. They figure they will finish by the end of the year at this pace. They drive from Matsuyama City where they live, park their car, and take a bus to where they want to start walking. They then walk back to the car and drive home. They were only walking this one stretch of the trail this time out and had to walk thirty-eight km (24 mi) before they got back to their car.

Apparently earlier in the month they had been walking in Tokushima Prefecture and had met the woman that i had walked with from Temple 23 to Bangai 4. Se had told them about this foreigner that she had met and walked with and i'm afraid to know what else. These two told me that they had told each other that if they were lucky they would run into me somewhere on the trail. And, sure enough, they did. (I'm embarrassed just writing this!)

We chatted, they took pictures, and we left to walk the rest of the day together. It was a wonderful afternoon of one-third English, one-third Japanese, and one-third some weird combination of the two. I think we walked together from near one o'clock until around four o'clock when we got to my minshuku for the night. Somewhere along the line i had asked if they would accept the anpan i had and wasn't planning to eat since they would have to walk until seven o'clock or so. That shocked them and they told me that their plan was to get back to the car by five or so. I didn't argue but saw no way that that was possible. And, sure enough, i felt guilty checking in as they still had a lot of walking to do, but wished them the best, posed for another picture, and told them to take care as they headed off. (I think they still had 14 km/9 mi to walk - three hours)

I did laundry as soon as i checked in so that it would dry on the line outside overnight. I then took a long bath and relaxed until dinner at six o'clock. When i got down to dinner i was shocked! There, sitting on the table, was a steak with broccoli and a salad. I didn't have the heart to tell her that i don't even eat steak in the US, and never eat broccoli. I just ate all of it and told her it was all delicious. Of course there was still the rice and miso soup to go along with it. And for desert i had a half an apple and a strawberry.

I chatted with the owner for about fifteen minutes and then headed up to my room for the night to watch the Giants play Yokohama. The owner/proprietor was a very attractive woman in her thirties, which is a rarity at minshuku; most proprietors are elderly women. Since there was still a woman who appeared to be in her seventies around the minshuku i am assuming that the mother and father wanted to retire and this woman, or her husband, were related and they moved in to take over the business. She told me the minshuku had been in business for about thirty years, but her family had just come the year before.

Both last night and tonight i am the only customer in the minshuku. It's is eerily quiet, but the service is great.

The day after tomorrow is going to be a very short day as far as i can tell now, i either have to stop at about 18 km (12 mi) or walk about 38 km (24 mi). If i can't find anything in between tomorrow i'll opt for the shorter of the two. Maybe the minshuku owner tomorrow will know of something, tonights didn't.

More clear and hot weather tomorrow. Should be another good day.

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