{Shikoku Hachijūhachikasho Meguri}
--Thoughts While I Was There--
--Thoughts While I Was There--
--3/28: Day 1--
Had the darndest time cashing my travelers checks, though, as they didn't like my signatures — said last night's didn't match the one i signed when i bought them. Ended up having to cash half at one bank and then going to another bank for the one's the first bank wouldn't touch. The second bank never even raised an eyebrow; just told me i sounded Japanese, chatted about the weather and Shikoku, and then gave me my money with a smile and wishes for good luck. At both banks, i got a whopping ¥98 per dollar.
From the second floor of the airport, i took the JR Line three quick stops to Kumatori, found a convenience store across the street for some shaving cream and a sandwhich to eat, and then walked about 4 blocks to the hotel.
--3/29: Day 2--
Woke up to clear skies and a sunny day with a forcasted high of 15°C (59°F). As expected, i slept in fits and starts all night, but still was able to sleep about 7 hours. After a shower, i packed and headed down to the lobby for a breakfast of bread with butter and grape jelly and coffee. Definitely not much, but it was included in the price of the room and it was convenient.
Matsushita-san showed up promptly at 8:00, as promised, so he could spend the day as my tour guide and show me around Wakayama Prefecture. We then drove back to the train station so we could pick up his neice; she was coming along to act as our interprter when necessary because she just finished a year's home stay in Toronto where she studied English. It was nice having her along because a living dictionary is always much better than having to stop the conversation, looking something up in the dictionary, and then trying to start over. With a living dictionary, the conversation always flows much easier, and this time was no different.
Started out by stopping at Negorodera — according to Matsushita-san a very famous Shingon temple in the area. It was a huge sprawling complex and we only saw a piece of it, i'm sure. The Cherry Blossom trees have been blooming, and they numbered in the thousands, maybe, but have another week to go before hiting full bloom. Even so, the parking lot was packed with people out ot see them.
When Matsushita-san told the woman who sold us our entry tickets that i was going to Shikoku, she told us of a nun in one of the sub-temples in the complex who had walked the henro trail 3 times many years ago. Of course we had to go find her, and when we did we spent about 15 minutes listening to her recount stories of life on the henro trail twenty-some years ago. A very interesting woman, she gave each of us a small bottle of sake as settai (i passed mine on to Matsushita-san later in the day). I forget now, but i think she said she was 83 years old and then said that when she turns 88 she plans to walk the 88 temple pilgrimage one last time. Not a bad goal. As we were going in her temple, there was a priest performing a ceremony to bless someone's car in front of the entrance. I find that so amusing, but don't know why.
After Negorodera we went to Nyuutsuhime Jinja. Translated into English that is Princess Nyuutsu Shrine, but i have no idea who Princess Nyuutsu is, i can only say she is a historical person from long, long ago. It's a very old shrine, and reminded me of Izum Taisha, the second most famous shrine in all of Japan, founded by the younger brother of the Sun Godess herself. Except, Nyuutsuhime Jinja was painted and colorful, old and worn, but colorful still, whereas Izumo Taisha is plain and colorless.
After Nyuutsuhime Jinja we went to Jisonin, the "Kōyasan for women" as Matsushita explained it. It semes pretty old and not near as wel taken care of as other temples. In fact, a few places seemed run down, which was odd because there were signs at the entrance that it was a UNESCO World Heritage site. Back in the old days, women weren't allowed on Kōyasan, so they stayed here instead. Still today, there is a trail from this temple up to Kōyasan that people walk. I have to dig out more information about it and see if Tom Ward and David Moreton want to walk it some time. I know David does and am pretty sure Tom will.
We stopped for a delicious lunce and a small restaurant and i was in heavan. My first Japanese meal of the trip. Simple, but delicious, Japanese food. They kind of food that Japanese just take for granted. Lots of vegetables, lots of rice, and green tea. While eating Matsushita and i worked out a deal where he would sell me some of the English Guidebooks at the same price he sells them to bookshops in Japan. I will then sell them to foreign henro and henro wannabes for no profit, i.e., the same price plus whatever it cost to mail it to the person who bought it. The hard part of this is going to be, do i send the book and then hope i get my money back? I think that is what i will do until, and if, the first time i get ripped off. The other option is to investigate using Pay Pal. But, henro, in general, seem to be a pretty honest group of people, so i think i'll be OK sending the book and waiting to get my money.
From Jisonin, we headed up to Kōyasan and spent several hours sightseeing, finishing up by greeting the Daishi at his mosoleum (the Okunoin, as it is called) and letting him know that i'm back.
From the Okunoin Matsushita-san took me to Haryoin, where i'm spending the night, and dropped me off before he and his neice headed back to Kumatori. From there i was back on auto pilot — check in, drop my things in my room, head to the bath, back to the room to relax for a few minutes, down to dinner, then back to the room for the night.
Since i'm staying in a temple, dinner was all vegetarian, but even so there was a lot of variety. Started with some kind of soup, not the standard miso shiro, while a bowl of vetables began to boil in a sauce over a small flame. Then on to a bowl of black beans, a bowl of what would usually be tofu, but this time was a cube of something made of white sesame (shirogoma). Very white and very sticky in texture. By then the vegetables were cooked and i ate those with several bowls of rice. The vegetables lookes like cabbage, lettuce, horinso (like spinach), at least three kinds of mushroom, and some tofu. All washed down with a bottle of Asahi beer. Delicious.
There are quite a few other quests here tonight. Four from France, a couple from Germany, and at least two Japanese. I met one of the Japanese men in the bath. He's in his eighty's and was telling me that he he has gone around Shikoku 11 times, all by car. The first 7 times he went alone but the last 4 were with his wife. It seemed that he never did the whole trip in one go, but would drive two prefectures at a time during vacations.
On my way back to my room after dinner, i looked and the thrermometer said it was 5°C (41°F) here inside the building. Luckily there are heaters in the dining room and in each room where we sleep. When i checked in, the priest told me that it would be 1°C (34°F) when i leave in the morning. Ouch. I wonder what it is going to be like over in Kagawa Prefecture. I still clearly remember the very cold early mornings when i started my walk back in '99, But, that was Tokushima Prefecture. I remember saying that i had never been so cold in my life. Since you don't leave the heater on in your room overnight, you wake up to a room that is freezing cold (literally). Even though you turn the heater on when you get up, and the dining room will have a heater on, the bathroom isn't heated, the floors are freezing, the building is cold, etc. You leave just feeling cold on the inside and it take a few kilometers (a mile) to get the blood flowing and the insides warmed up, at which point you can start peeling off layers of clothes.
Tomorrow's morning services are from 6:30 to 7:00, but i want to catch a train to Ōsaka around 7:00 so i can get to Tokushima City early enough to have lunch with David and others. That means i'll have to miss the services. And, since i need to pay before the services start, that means i need to check out before 6:30. I'll probably be out of here around 6:15 and out to the bus stop. The train station is only 15 minutes from there. It is about 2 hours from here to Ōsaka and then i'll look for a bus to Tokushima City from the Nanba Station when i arive.
--3/30: Day 3--
Woke up at 4:00 and could not go back to sleep. I layed there and stared at where the ceiling would be if the light was on, and finally gave up at 4:30 and actually did turn it on. It was cold outside. Read for a little while then crawled back under the covers until my alarm went off at 6:00. Got up, threw everything in my pack, brushed my teeth and headed downstairs. After paying my bill, i headed out to the bus stop and found out it was sprinkling as soon as i opened the front door.
Had to wait a half hour for the bus to show up because it's Sunday and the service is reduced on the wekends. When i got to the train station, there was a train leaving in 5 minutes, so i was immediately on my way to Ōsaka. Got there with no problems and since it was early i stopped for some toast and a couple cups of coffee. After that, i found the bus terminal to buy a ticket to Tokushima, only to be told that the next bust didn't leave until 11:00 and would arrive in Tokushima City at 2:00.
That didn't make any sense because i had been told that there was a 10:30 bust that would arrive at 12:30, give or take. We had all planned on my catching that so i could meet David Moreton & wife, Ian Reader, and Claire Tanaka, plus their kids, for lunch. Before buying the ticket i called David on the phone and he looked it up online and said it still showed a 10:30 bus. Obviously i was at a different bus terminal than he was looking at, but they both had the same name so i didn't know where the other was. Given that, i decided just to stay where i was rather than risk looking for the other station, not finding it, and then finding that this 11:00 bus had sold out. That meant, however, that i had to cancel lunch.
Arrived in front of the Tokushima City Station right at 2:00 and headed up to TOPIA to see if David was there and/or had left my Tsue (walking stick) for me to pick up. As it turns out, everyone was there and i finally got to meet Ian Reader and put a face with his name. We didn't have time to talk, though, as my train for Iyo Mishima was leaving at 2:28 and i hadn't even bought a ticket yet. Since Ian was heading to Takamatsu for the night, and i had to change trains there, he decided to take the same train so we would have an hour to chat, which i thoroughly enjoyed.
Just as we were getting ready to head out to the train platform, Tom Ward called David on his mobile phone so i got to talk to him as well. It seems he has changed his plans and instead of coming down later in the week, he is thinking of coming down tomorrow. I can't wait for him as my schedule is pretty tight, so i told him that if he does come down, he should either meet me at Bangai 14, or at Minshuku Okada, where i'll spend the next two nights. I don't think there are any other choices as Sangakuji and Bangai 13 are way off the roads he will be on. I guess i'll just wait to see if he shows up. If not, i'll give him a call in Tōkyō on Tuesday on my way to Bangai 15. (When i called David from Ōsaka he mentioned something about his schedule having changed, but i didn't follow up, so i wonder if he is planning to come out and walk some too?)
When i checked into the hotel tonight (Mishimi Daiichi Hotel) they told me there were no restaurants in the area and since i hadn't see any, i think they were telling the truth. They also told me that the restaurant wouldn't be open for breakfast tomorrow morning as the cook was taking some time off. That meant i needed to go out and find a convenience store for dinner and breakfast. Also, since i'm out in the middle of nowhere all day tomorrow, i needed to buy food for tomorrow's lunch. Not the best eating choices, but i didn't buy any junk and stuck with sandwhiches and a bento.
When i got off the elevator on the eighth floor to go to my room, i was absolutely shocked. When the door opened, i looked at the carpet and thought i was in the garage. I actually looked back in the elevator to be sure i had gotten off on the right floor. The carpet was filthy! The room is little better, and while the carpet is a little cleaner than the halls, the walls are terrible. It looks like they forgot to close the window and a typhoon went through town. It is the dirtiest hotel i think i have ever stayed at in my life — and i have stayed at some pretty sleezy hotels around the world in my life.
So, today was another of those long days of travel. I left the temple at Kōyasan at 6:15 this morning and checked into the hotel here in Iyo Mishima at 5:00. It took ¥5,000 and 2½ hours to get from where i will finish in a few weeks to where i start walking tomorrow morning. To get back there will cost lots and lots more and two weeks of walking, climbing, and descending.
As i said earlier, it was sprinkling when i left the temple this morning. It is still raining and has been all day. Haven't seen the weather report yet, but i have a feeling that i'll start my first day of walking in a rain suit.
--Some time later--
I continued the above journal every day through the first week. Then, when i got to week two, while starting a new blank page for that week's entries, i managed to erase everything i had written in week one. Completely. Irrevocably. I was able to rescue what you see above because i had already uploaded that to the server so it was a simple matter of downloading it again. But, everything i had written since that last entry, but not backed up (stupid, stupid, stupid), was gone forever.
Rather than trying to reconstruct a weeks worth of thoughts, i decided not to keep a journal during the second week and to simply summarize the highlights of the trip in a series of short entries after getting home. Once that is done, i'll wrap this year's trip up with some final thoughts. Please be patient as this will take me some time (as you may have already noticed).
1. Getting Started
When i left the hotel that first morning in Iyo Mishima, it wasn't raining, but the clouds were low and dripping with water, as if they were just looking for an excuse to open up. It was an uphil climb right from the front steps of the hotel and the climb didn't relent until well after Sankakuji (Temple 65).
It was about a 2 hour climb up to Sankakuji — the first third and the last third on roads, with the middle portion on mountain trails. True to form, i got lost in the middle of the climb. To get to the mountain trails, you work your way up progressively smaller and smaller side streets through various housing areas. I remember seeing a sign telling me to go straight ahead, and then all of a sudden i ran out of roads and out of signs at the same time. Not good. I asked a man who was trying to maneuver a small crane through the same streets, but all he could tell me was that he wasn't from the area either so had no idea where the road might be. He offered his best guess and told me to go to the left and try over there. Since to the right is where the roads had stopped anyhow, i figured he might be on to something, thanked him for his advice, and headed in the direction he had pointed.
After a short time of wandering in an uphill direction i stumbled on a henro sign and found the trail again. From there it was a piece of cake and i got to the temple with no further problems. At the temple, i thought i had found the green Jizo that Mary Howard had offered as the picture of the month for March and April, but it turns out that it was very similar, but not the same one. The temple was fairly busy for being early morning and very overcast, but it certainly wasn't crowded. They had built a new Nōkyōjo in the compound and closed the little office in the Hondō.
I remembered Sankakuji fairly well because when i was here last time it had been a slow, warm day and i had just lazed about the temple compound for quite a while. While getting my stamp book signed i had talked to the priest about his calligraphy because it was quite good and he seemed to really relish his work. After that, and while i was sitting around looking at the flowers, the priest had come out and given me some calligraphy he had written for me. It said something to the effect "When you pray or worship, it has no meaining unless it comes from the heart." I loved the sentiment, and still do, so we talked about that for a while until other henro showed up and he had to get back to work. I didn't see him again this year and wonder if he is still there.
After visiting the hondō and daishidō, i got my book stamped and asked the woman who did that where i could find the trail head to go up and over the mountain behind Sankakuji and over to Bangai 13. She told me to go back down the stairs in front of the sanmon and turn to the right. I thanked her and headed for the door, when it dawned on me that doing that put me back on the main road, not the trail head. When i asked her if she was sure and told her what i was looking for, she told me the trail was unusable and that i had to use the road.
Rule number one for walking henro: be careful when asking directions and take everything you hear with a grain of salt. Sometimes it may be true, but often it isn't. In this case, i doubt the woman has ever walked between the temples so she had no idea what i could expect, but she told me that the trail was certainly impassable because it had been raining so the footing would be treacherous. I wouldn't say that we argued, per se, but we 'discussed' the issue for about 5 minutes with her telling me no and me telling her i couldn't believe it. Luckily for me, at that point a man walked in and she said we could ask him because he walked that trail all the time. I asked. He said 'Sure you can walk it. Just watch your step.' I thanked him and set out.
It turned out to be a beautiful walk, but the trail had suffered in the storms. The climb to the top was easy but there were a lot of trees down across the trail meaning a lot of climbs over them, some crawling under them, and ocassionally, when it was possible, going down and around them. The trail going down the other side was a lot trickier, however. The ground was blanketed with leaves, almost as if it was autumn and the trees were shedding their leaves. Wet leaves can be very, very slippery, especially when the gound beneath them is nothing but mud. Then, as you get closer to Bangai 13 (Senryūji), they had buried stone in the ground to prevent the trail from washing away, and then actually built stone steps. Wet stone offers almost no traction. That's all i'll say — the rest is up to your imagination.
Senryūji is interesting not just because it is out in the middle of nowhere, tucked into a secluded notch in the hill off the only road in the valley, and near a very picturesque river, but also because there is only one building with both the hondō and the daishidō inside. You check your shoes at the front door and work your way inside, up some stairs, and towards the back of the building. There, you find the nōkyōjo, a small area where the priest can entertain guests, and then one room with the hondō on one wall and a cave that serves as the daishidō on another. In fact, after sitting on the floor in front of the alter in the hondō, to get to the daishidō all you have to do is scoot to the right about 3 ft (1 m), turn on your knees clockwise 90°, and then you are all set to go.
After visiting both, i got up to get my nōkyōchō stamped, but the priest was having tea with two women and completely ignored me. He was sitting about 6 ft (2 m) from where i was standing, but he never gave the slightest impression that he saw me or that i was even there. Neither of the women said anything either. Not wanting to give him the opportunity to be able to tell stories later of rude and impatient foreigners, i decided that i would just wait him out and began a very, very careful study of all the knick knacks for sale at the counter. I then waited some more. And then went back and studied the back sides of all the knick knacks at the counter. And then waited some more
After standing there for about 10–15 minutes, and being completely ignored, the phone rang and for that the priest jumped up and ran over. I was shocked when, after talking for a minute, he handed the phone to me. I sort of expected it to be the woman from Sankakuji checking to see if i had made it OK, but was surprised to hear Tom's voice on the other end when i said hello. I knew that Tom was coming down from Tōkyō to walk with me for a few days, but didn't expect to hear from him until i got to our lodging later that night.
Tom said that he was at Bangai 14 (Tsubakidō) and wondered when i would get there. I wasn't sure so asked the priest and he said three hours. Tom asked the priest at Bangai 13 and was told one hour. Tom didn't want to just sit around and wait for me so we decided that he would start walking this way and i would start walking that way, and we would meet somewhere in the middle, probably in an hour and a half, give or take.
To make a long story short, after setting out and walking for about 30 minutes, a truck pulled up beside me and there was Tom. It turns out that a farmer couldn't work in the fields that day because of the rain, so he had decided to go visit a few temples. He happened to be at Bangai 14 when Tom was there, overheard the story, and offered to drive Tom down to meet me. They took a different road than i was walking, so ended up at Bangai 13 without meeting me. After they visited the temple, they got back in the truck, headed up the only other road i could have been on, and that's were i was.
We walked together to Bangai 14, i did my thing, we took a break, and then headed off to find Minshuku Okada, at the base of the trail up to Unpenji (Temple 66). My plan was was to spend the night at Minshuku Okada, walk to Bangai 15 (Hashikuraji) and back to Okada on Tuesday, and then climb up to Unpenji on Wednesday. Somewhere between Bangai 14 and Okada, Tom lost his mind and mine, not wanting to be left alone, followed his.
Tom pointed out to me that back in '99, when i walked this part of the trail, i had done the exact same thing as i was planning to do on Tuesday and Wednesday. Why not, he threw out glibbly, do something different this time? Why not leave early Tuesday morning, go to Bangai 15, and then cut diagonally straight over to Unpenji on the same day. Then drop down the back side of the mountain and there is a minshuku right there for us to stay at. I think i told him he was nuts, but don't remember anymore, before he convinced me to get out the maps. After going over those for a while, we went back and forth for a while with him saying we could do it and me saying it looked like a long walk.
In the end, i couldn't say he was wrong because the numbers did seem to add up to a doable walk. Long, but doable. So, i threw in the towel and simply told him "Shindara, komaru, yo," or, "If i die i'll really be upset, but OK, i'm game." With that we found our way to Okada for the night.
Minshuku Okada is famous among walking henro. Because of it's strategic location right at the bottom of the climb up to Unpenji almost all walkers stay there. That means it is packed (a dozen people) and everyone is always in a happy and talkative mood. That Monday night was no different. During dinner, and over beer and sake, the owner listened to our new plans and assured us that we could go to Bangai 15 and then straight to Unpenji the next day. It would be a long walk, but it was certainly doable. With that note of reassurance, we cancelled our reservation for Tuesday night and called the minshuku on the other side of Unpenji and got a reservation there. We were set.
It had been a long day of climbing, decending, climbing back up, and dropping back down again, so i was tired. We didn't talk long that night and i slept like that proverbial baby. I think my last words to Tom that night were "Shindara, komaru, yo."
2. Attempted Murder on Unpenji Mountain
I smelled trouble first thing in the morning when, as soon as we came out for breakfast, the owner told us that there was no way we could get to Bangai 15, up to Unpenji, and then down the back side to our lodging in one day. He didn't say "I've thought about it again..." or "You know, it's really pretty far...," just you can't do it.
Tom and i basically ignored this comment and told him that we would be able to do it, even if it was hard. I probably said something like 'it will be good training.' So, with that, shortly after breakfast we were out the door to take some pictures with the owner, and then off down the road.
It was a beautiful spring day with clear sunny skies and chilly, but warming, temperatures. The walk to Bangai 15 (Hashikuraji) was completely uneventful. We never really hurried but chose to walk at a nice pace and chat the whole way. About 2/3 of the way there, an elderly grandmother (maybe great grandmother) stopped us and wanted to talk. Really she wanted to give us settai and kept talking about tea, which we accepted, but told her we couldn't stay long, if that was OK. She seemed really puzzled, until it sank in what we were saying, and then let us know that she wasn't offering us tea, she wanted to give us ¥1,000 so that we could buy tea somewhere down the road when we wanted a break. We accepted it, thanked her many times, and headed out for the last section to Bangai 15.
We arrived at the base of the mountain around 11:30 and decided to stop for lunch at a restaurant before making the climb up to the top since we both knew that there was nothing up there to eat. We were lucky we made this choice as you'll see later on. We had udon at a restaurant right across the street from the cable car station and relaxed until sometime after 12:00. I used to think that ordering udon was simple — you choose from a half dozen choices on the menu, place your order, then sit back and wait for it to arrive. Not in Kagawa-ken, the home of world famous Kagawa Udon. I think Tom talked to the waitress for about 15 minuted before he figured out just what it was they were offering on their menu. I stayed out of it because if Tom was confused, with my Japanese i would have no chance of understanding.
The menu was on a board on the wall, and it probably listed 2 or 3 dozen different types of udon, and none of them were just "regular udon" like you would get in a normal restaurant. There were different sauces, different styles, different this, different that, and on and on. Then, there were a few glass cabinets with all the shrimp, eggplant, lotus root, etc. that had been deep fried and you bought separately to put in the udon that you did finally agree to buy. So, after about fifteen minutes, Tom had chosen, and i simply said, 'the same thing,' when they looked at me.
With that adventure under our belts, we climbed to the top to pay our respects at Hashikuraji. Knowing by this time that we were fighting time, when we got there i did nothing but get my book stamped. We then took a break for a while while making plans and looking at the maps to see how to get from where we were over to Unpenji. Luckily, we didn't have to go back down the way we came because the map showed a shortcut dropping down the side of the mountain heading in the way we wanted to go. After our break, we found that shortcut and headed down the mountain.
The walk down the back side was fairly easy as we walked on what appeared to be a service road the whole way. The only problem was, at one point we had to choose a turn to the left or the right, and about a half hour after choosing the right, we got to a dead end in someone's driveway and were told that we should have chosen the left. By the time we backtracked (it really was beautiful scenery the whole way, however) and got back on the road we had lost one precious hour, and we didn't have that many to lose with our schedule.
Once we got back to the bottom of the mountain, and to where we now had to recommence the climb back up towards Unpenji, we wondered about our possibilities. It was obviously now going to be late when we did arrive, so should we reevaluate our plans? I suggested considering finding somewhere to stay in this area and making the climb tomorrow morning. Tom didn't like that idea, and since i didn't really either, i agreed. We could walk until it got too dark and then find a cab, then the next morning take a cab back to where it had picked us up and start walking again? Possible, we guessed, but didn't know how we might find a cab. In the end, we just decided to start walking and see where we get.
It was an amazingly beautiful walk that afternoon. It was warm, sunny, we were in the mountains, we walked on small back roads with no traffic and where the very few people we did meet walked in the middle of the road like we did. Everything was perfect. We found one fruit & vegitable stand on the side of the road were we could take a break, but other than that, we passed no stores, no restaurants, no convenience stores, no nothing. We were in the boonies and it was getting late. But, we continued plodding onwards and upwards.
Somewere after one of our breaks, it was obvious we would be late, so Tom called the minshuku and broke the news to them. He said we'd be there around 6:00. They said fine, and we continued walking. As we got closer still, he called them again and told them that it looked more like 7:00 than 6:00. They said fine and we continued walking. By the time we got to the top and were getting ready to enter Unpenji, we got to see a very beautiful sunset. As we walked under the trees and into the temple, it went dark, dark, dark.
We got to Unpenji at about 7:00 and it was pitch black in the compuund. Everything was closed and there wasn't a light to be seen anywhere. When we stopped what appeared to be the last worker heading home for the night and asked him were the trailhead was to head down to our lodging, he told us we couldn't walk it in the dark. Impossible. Tom assured him he had a flashlight, and the guy begrudgingly told him where we had to go before hopping back in his truck and driving off..
With that.Tom called the minshuku once more and told them we'd be there at 8:00. They said no way, it would be 9:00, but we didn't believe them and they didn't argue. The map showed a simple 4km down the mountain and it was downhill all the way, so we knew they were wrong. Tom did have two flashlights, but the bulb was broken in one of them, and the batteries weren't fully charged in the other. Just in case we needed it, he had the brilliant idea of taking a picture of the light in the top of a phone booth with his digital camera. When he looked at the picture on the camera's preview screen after that, he had a screen of solid white, which, when held out in front of him, did illuminate the trail a little. That gave us a back up plan in case the batteries in his only flashlight didn't hold up.
And with that, we headed out into the dark to find the trail down the mountain towards our minshuku. It was a beautifully serene night, quiet, calm, and isolated, but i certainly wondered what we were getting into as we headed out.
So were does attempted murder fit into this story? You have to remember what i had been doing for two days now. By the time i got to this stage of the walk back in '99, i had about 6 weeks of work under my belt and was in very good shape. This year i was coming straight from my couch in Chicago, unfortunately. When i started my walk on Monday, i immediately began with a climb up to 500 m (1,650 ft) for Temple 65. From there it was a further climb up to 780 m (2,575 ft) at the top of the pass before dropping back down to Bangai 13 at 230 m (760 ft). Then from there i climbed back up to 400 m (1,320 ft) before dropping back down to Bangai 14 and then down to about 240 m (790 ft) for the long walk to Okadaya on Monday night, and then on to Bangai 15 on Tuesday. After getting to the base of Bangai 15, it was a climb up to 500 m (1,650 ft) to the Hondō before dropping back down to 240 m (790 ft) so that we could begin the long slow climb up to Unpenji at 900 m (2,970 ft). For a flat lander on untrained legs, that is a lot of climbing in 2 days.
Given that, by the time we got to the top of Unpenji, i was almost dead, and i wondered if i was going to kill my legs before i found somewhere to sit down for any extended period of time. My legs were exhausted and getting them to move was pure misery and hard work. The further we walked, the slower i got. While walking on flat ground was no problem, each step down was agonizing, and given that we were on a trail going down the back side of Unpenji Mountain, we were taking a lot of steps down. It took everything in me to keep up with Tom as he lead us down the trail, and i had to stop every 10 minutes, or so, for a short break. My quads were like spaghetti, after being boiled for 45 minutes.
Since we only had one flashlight, Tom carried that with him as he lead the way. I followed about 1 m (3 ft) behind him, just close enough that i could see the trail in the little light there was. Let me tell you, though, that when we occasionally saw the lights in the valley below through the trees, it was stunning. If we had had more light, or at least some moonlight above, it would have been a beautiful night for a walk.
Through the first 2km (1 mi) we still thought we would be down in an hour. But, it had been raining so there were may stretches of muddy trail that we couldn't see but had to walk through, and there were section with lots of rocks. In addition, the second half was much steeper than the top so it was more like walking down step by step, rather than a trail. Unfortunately that meant that the minshuku owner's had been right and it would be 9:00 before we got off the mountain.
A little before 9:00, the owner of the minshuku called Tom and asked were we were. When Tom told him, he said we were almost there. Then the flashlight gave out. We were on a semi-flat section of the trail by this time so we walked in the dark for a while, but when the walking started to get tricky again, Tom got out his digital camera. Then, miraculously, we saw lights ahead. The owner of the minshuku had pulled his jeep up onto the bottom of the trail so that the headlights were shining directly up the trail for the last few minutes of the walk. Needless to say, that made the walking much, much easier.
When we got down, the owner, being a henro himself, said he would give us a ride to the minshuku if we wanted, but would understand if we said we wanted to walk it. We opted for the latter, but then found out that that meant that he was going to follow behind and next to us to light the way with his jeep. This guy was just too nice.
To make a long story short, when we got there just after 9:00, the wife asked us to be quiet because everyone else had already gone to bed. But, they still had the bath hot for us, still fed us a full meal, just like all the other guests, and still sat around and chatted with us — all as if we had arrived at 4:00 like most henro do. I can not recommend Minshuku Aozora highly enough. They are wonderful peole, friendly, outgoing, helpful, considerate, and henro through and through. If you can adjust your schedule, stay at Minshuku Aozora.
By the time it was over, we had walked about 45 km (27 mi) and 14½ hours this day. While it had been an unbelievably long and hard day, after a bath, dinner, and a cold beer, it felt good to have completed it. In hindsight, it had been an adventure, even though it had been a mini-nightmare while we were walking it. Hindsight is a marvelous filter, so this day will go in the memory banks as one of those to remember for the rest of my life. The day it felt like i was going to kill myself on Unpenji Mountain.
3. Hospitality Above and Beyond
In a sense, it is very difficult to talk about hospitality "above and beyond" when it comes to the henro michi, because the hospitality all henro receive, from all lodging, from everyone you meet, from all sources, is noteworthy. Occasionally, however, you run across those that offer more than anyone would expect.
When you stay in a typical minshuku or ryokan, you will almost always be treated very well. Occcasionally it is obvious that you are just another paying customer, but in most cases you are recognized as a henro. You are fawned over, asked questions, told stories, introduced to the kids, shown pictures of past henro, and on, and on. Even in these cases, though, it seems to me that there is no doubt that the owners of the lodging are running a business and their motive is to make a profit. They treat you well, and you are a henro, but first and foremost, you are a customer.
For some reason, though, Unpenji seems to bring out the best in minshuku owners. On one side of the mountain is Minshuku Okada. On the other is Minshuku Aozora. And neither gives the impression that profit is their guiding force, their motive, or their primary concern. At either minshuku their concern seems to be your henro, your trip around the henro trail, your comfort, and your well being. They don't seem to be in the minshuku business because they think they will make a lot of money from it, but because they derive personal satisfaction from helping henro as they make their way around the island. They give the impression that they have found their calling, that this is not just a career choice but something their heart tells them to do.
Life as a guest at Minshuku Okada is almost like taking a break from the henro trail and going back home. When you check in you are greated like family and treated like family. Smiles and laughter flow from the time you arrive until the time you leave. Meals are served at floor level in a small dining room that can be so crowded that you sit with elbows almost touching your neighbor. That closeness, however, seems to promote an instant sense of comraderie, a bonding, that is found at few other minshuku. And even though he doesn't eat with you, the zabuton at the head of the table is reserved for Okada-san himself.
For Okada-san, the role of (henro) family patriarch is natural. He doesn't sit at the head of the table with any manufactured attitude of superiority, it's just obviously 'his place.' And from that zabuton, he leads the conversations, he leads the stories, he leads the laughter, he leads the sharing, he leads the experience of a night at Minshuku Okada. No one is ignored, everyone is pulled into the experience. Everyone is invited to share their experiences on the henro michi. Okada-san has most certainly heard it all before, but he always gives the impression that he is hearing it for the first time.
At breakfast the next morning, Okada-san changes hat. From welcoming host he changes to henro professor. After everyone is done eating, he pulls out copies of a hand-drawn map of the trail ahead and passes them out to everyone, Then, while standing at the head of the table he describes where we are headed, how to get there, what we can expect, what to look for, how long it will take, and more. And then you are dismissed — class is over. Everyone leaves at the same time, and Okada-san walks you out to the street to watch you leave. This is no 'here's your receipt, thanks for stopping' kind of operation; it is more of a 'thanks for stopping by, i really enjoyed it, see you next time.'
On the other side of Unpenji you find a new minshuku caled Aozora. The owners are a couple who gave up regular 9-5 jobs in order to build and run a henro minshuku. He was salaryman and she was a dental hygenist. I've already told the story of their incredile hospitality above, so won't go into that again, but it is obvious that they love what they do, and that henro are more new friends than they are customers.
Don't get me wrong, you are treated well almost everywhere on Shikoku. With rare exceptions, you are treated well at your lodging, you are treated well in the grocery stores, you are treated well by people you meet on the streets. As a henro, you will be well looked after the entire time you are there. But, occasionally, as in the case of Minshuku Okada and Minshuk Aozora, you are treated better than well, and stopping in is like stopping at home.
4. Henro Salon
About halfway between temples 87 and 88, you'll find a relatively new addition to the henro tradition. After passing the dam, on the left side of the road as you make a hard left turn on the climb towards Okuboji (or, Kechiganji), you'll find the Henro Salon, a museum of of everything about the henro trail; it's history, culture, tradition, etc.
My understanding is that this is a labor of love of one man and is staffed by himself and volunteers. You are welcomed with tea and cookies, invited to take your pack off and relax, and given a nice tour of everything on display. These displays include old henro clothing, nōkyōchō, maps, and other artifacts. There is even a very interesting map on the wall showing where all the henro who visit come from. People are invited to drop their Osamefuda (name slips) into boxes along the wall under the map and labled according to prefecture. On the far left side of the wall is one box labled "International" and that is expecially interesting as you'll see just how international this henro has become — people are coming to Shikoku from all around the world!
As you go by, do not fall into the trap of thinking you are in a hurry and don't have the time to stop in. It is well worth your time.
5. The Tibetians To The Rescue
Bangai 20 (Ōtakiji) may be one of the hardest temples to visit on the entire walk for no other reason than it is out in the middle of nowhere — on the top of a mountain completely out in the boonies. When i was in that area back in '99, there was an onsen near the bottom of the mountain (well, once you get this far, 30 minutes away qualifies as 'near') and another closer to Temple 88 (Ōkuboji).. Skip ahead to 2008, and you'll find that that first onsen is no longer in business and only the second one remains.
Tom had gone back home the day after Unpenji, but had come back down for a few more days as i neared the end of my walk. When he and i stopped at a minshuku right outside the sanmon (front gate) of Temple 85 (Yakuriji), i decided it was time to try and make reservations for the night before the climb up to Ōtakiji and the night when i went up and came back down. My plans were to spend the night at the onsen that was now out of business on the night before, then come down and spend the night at the other onsen which was very near Temple 88 (Ōkuboji). This would have been the same thing i did back in '99. As i said, though, that first onsen no longer exists. Plan B, therefore, was to get a room at that second onsen for both nights, the night before the trek up and that next night as well.
Once again, another minshku owner volunteered to help by making some of the phone calls for me. This was great news because a) his Japanese is a tad bit better than mine and b) he probably knows the owners of the other minshuku, or at least is part of the same club and that could only help. And, true to form, he made a few quick calls and all was set.......... NOT.
He did make a few calls, but the second onsen would not budge and give me a slice of floor to sleep on for both nights. He called and they refused. The second night was OK, but not that first night. He thanked them and hung up. We discussed it a bit. He called them back and talked to them again and they refused again. He thanked them and hung up. We discussed it a bit more. He called them back again and talked to them again and they refused again. Do you see the pattern here? The picture wasn't looking pretty by this time.
If i couldn't stay at that onsen both nights, that would mean i needed to stay in a minshuku outside of Temple 87 (Nagaoji) the first night and then walk from there up to Ōtakiji and then back down to the onsen. All in one very, very long day. And the climb up to Ōtakiji is uphill all the way to the top. :-( So, when the owner talked to them that third time, he persisted until the manager got on the phone (at least that's how it sounded from what i could hear listening to only one side of the conversation). He patiently explained the problem and told her what i was going to have to do if i couldn't get a room. They discussed that option, but the woman on the other end said it was not possible. Not at all like Okada-san near Unpenji earlier where it had been possible at first, only to change later, she came right to the point. Not possible. Don't even think about it. No. But, i still don't have a room for him.
Luckily for me, Tom and the minshuku owner (another Okada-san, by the way) came up with a solution that i could live with. The plan required me to get a reservation at a minshuku for the next night outside Temple 87 (Nagaoji) and then a reservation at the onsen for the night after that. I would walk all the way to the onsen the next day but then catch a cab back to Nagaoji and spend the night there. The next morning i could take an early cab back to the onsen, leave my backpack there and make the roundtrip climb up to Ōtakiji. While i didn't like the idea of using a cab, Tom correctly pointed out that it was no different than stopping each year, flying back to Chicago, and then returning the next year where i had left off. In the end, i was still walking the entire trail. Made sense to me.
But there was a secret plan. When we left the next morning, Tom was going to walk with me to Nagaoji, at which point he would catch a bus/cab/train back to the airport to get a plane back to a wife and job waiting for him in Tōkyō. I would then walk to the onsen that wouldn't give me a room. If i was incredibly lucky, they would see a foreigner at the front desk, what's more, a foreign henro, someone would have cancelled their reservation for that night, they would have felt sorry for me, and offered me the room.
You've got to love these kinds of great plans.
Given those gret fortuitous circumstances, i would then be in the perfect place to climb to Ōtakiji the next morning with plenty of time to return to the onsen for a good meal and a good night's sleep.
Only problem is...... it didn't work. After bidding Tom farewell, i headed out and was at the onsen in the late afternoon. Hi, i'm Dave, i proudly told them. OK, they replied. What can i do for you, they very politely inquired. I called last night about the possibility of a room both tonight and tomorrow night, i told him, quickly throwing in so that i could climb up to Ōtakiji tomorrow morning. Yes, he graciously replied, and we didn't have any free rooms. So much for that plan i thought. Yes, i understood that, i shamelessly covered my butt. I was just wondering if you could call me a cab so i can get back to Nagaoji for the night. Then i'll come back early in the morning. Can i leave my pack here when i do so i can climb up to Ōtakiji without it, i asked, as if that had been my thoughts all along? Of course, he politely said. Now where is that number for the cab i heard him mumble to himself.........
So that was it. I took the cab back to a nice minshuku right outside the gate of Nagaoji and spent the night there. Given that all the other henro would reach Ōkuboji (Temple 88), and finish their henro the next day, it was like a party at dinner that night. The beer flowed, laughter filled the dining room, and everyone felt like everyone else's best friend. I told the owner i wouldn't need breakfast and made arrangements for a cab to meet me at Nagaoji at 6:00 in the morning for the ride back to the onsen. With that, it was off to bed.
I got back to the onsen, dropped off my pack, and was out the door just after 6:30. It was sprinkling, but nothing major, so i looked forward to a good day's walk. As a sort of compromise, the rains stopped completely after just an hour, or so. But, the clouds never went away. It was a cloudy overcast day all day long and on both the climb up and the walk down, there were times were you couldn't even see across the valley, it was that foggy.
It was several hours of waking, maybe three?, just to get to the base of the mountain where you begin the climb up to Ōtakiji. Those three hours are all on the side of the only highway, which makes it a major highway, so there is lots of traffic. Once i made the turn and began climbing, though, it was a very quiet walk and i probably didn't get passed by more than 4 cars the entire time i was walking up or down the mountain.
To jump ahead several hours, when i arrived at the temple, i was as quiet and deserted as i remembered from last time. There was only one other person to be seen — the priest was digging around the offering box in front of the temple looking for change that had missed the box and landed on the floor around and under it.
After visiting the temples, i sat down in front of the Nōkyō office and ate my sandwich for lunch while i waited for the priest to show up. Last time i was here there had been a vending machine in the front yard so i only brought one bottle of water with me this morning. That was now gone, and so was the vending machine, so i was going to have to find more water elsewhere. No problem, i thought, i'll just ask the priest or refill in the chōzubachi, where you wash your hands and rinse your mouth.
I could have rung the buzzer, but was in no hurry since i had to eat before i could leave anyway, so just decided to wait for him to show up. When he did, he didn't seem in all that good a mood. And when i asked him if there was a vending machine i found out i was right. Nope, was all he would say. Is there a garden hose i can refill my bottle with? Nope. Is there any water anywhere? Nope. OK, i'll fill it from the Chōzubachi. Can't drink that water, he said. Isn't there any other water then, i repeated? Nope.
It seemed like a good point in the conversation (if that is what you would call what we were having) to drop the subject so i asked about the flags stretched between poles along the front of the temple compound. They looked like Tibetan flags, but i couldn't imagine that this was a Tibetan Buddhist temple so i asked if i was right. Yep, that's what they are, he replied. He was a great conversationalist, as you've probably guessed, and here is where i got myself in trouble.
Why Tibetan flags, i asked, trying to make conversation before going back to the issue of drinkable water. You see, i made the assumption that they, being human, did drink water from time to time, so there had to be some somewhere. I just didn't want to point that out to him, preferring that he remember for himself and point it out to me. So, why Tibetan flags? Are you making a statement of support for the current problems going on there now?
It wasn't just his curt reply of "no relationship" that told me i had stepped in doggie poo poo, but the glare that came along with it. I knew immediately that if i hoped to find anything to drink for the walk back to the onsen, i had just tred on the wrong path in that direction. He had not liked that question one bit. So i immediately backpeddled and asked something like "oh? then why the flags?" Why do you ask, he snorted. Actually, snorted might be a bit strong, but i could certainly say he spit out the words. I could have said i was just curious, which would have been the honest answer, but my gut told me that wasn't going to get me anywhere, so i told him that i was studying a little Tibetan Buddhism myself so i was just wondering.
With that, he handed me back my nōky!chō and just sat there looking at me. You're studying Tibetan Buddhism? he asked, almost daring me to repeat it. Yes, i told him. Not much, but enough to get an understanding of how it might differ from Zen, my preffered form of Buddhism. He then offered that he and his son were studying Tibetan Buddhism with a lama from Tōkyō and that his son had just spent a year living in California at the lama's school. And when i showed that this was interesting (it was!) you could see his ice cap melt.
He pulled out a bag of candy, gave me a few handfulls, and then asked me to wait a bit. I agreed and he started ringing the buzzer until his son came out to see what was going on. The son looked to be in his 20s, and he seemed very perplexed. Why had his fater called him out to introduce him to a foreigner?
After giving me another hadfull of candy, he told his son to sit down with me in the front entrance of the temple and chat for a while. We both looked at each other, shrugged our shoulders, and he went in, and i went out and around, meeting at the entrance. Just inside was a sofa where visitors are entertained, i assume, and that is where i was invited to take a seat. The son and i chatted for about 15 minutes about his time in the US and about his experiences working for this lama at his school/monastery/whatever. I turned out to be rather interesting.
And, to top it all off, while we were talking, the priest came out, turned on the space heater, and handed me a HUGE bottle of water, more than i could drink on the way down even if i had wanted to try. :-) I think it's safe to say, if you're ever in a jam, you can count on the Tibetans to bail you out. In about 5 minutes, we had gone from no water anywhere on the mountain to more than i could drink. And it tasted delicious.
Pretty uneventful after that. Had to walk back down and then back to the onsen where i would spend almost my last night on the trail. I got back to the onsen just before dinner, just in time to throw some clothes in the washer (not free), head to the bath, and then right after that, to the dinning room. I was tired, bone tired, and was alseep soon after getting back to my room.
6. Returning To One
So how should i approach this section? I hadn't thought about this minor issue when i wrote that subsection title months ago. Really.
Do i take the physical approach and go at it by reflecting on the end of another walk around the henro trail and getting back to Temple One (Ryōzenji)? The inevitable sadess and happiness mixed together in this wierd sense of accomplishment? The pleasure of getting off my feet for awhile and the feeling of not knowing what to do with myself now that i don't have to walk every day? The feelings of personal satisfaction for having completed the circle a second time?
Or, the more metaphorical approach about the experiences, while approaching Temple1, of seeing the oneness of the universe and how this walk, the people i met, the experience of just accepting reality day in and day out while on the side of the road, no matter how it presented itself, helped me to forget myself and accept us as our defining identity? We are one, after all. Or even deeper, accepting that behind the curtain there is a Wizard of Oz, and that we are the one's that sew, install, and close the curtain so we can't see behind it, and that walking the henro trail is an amazingly wonderful experience because you have the chance for weeks on end to open the curtain wide, allowing the full light of reality to shine on your days, allowing you to see that the Wizard that runs my life is the Wizard that runs yours and everyone elses. There's only one Wizard, and he has no name, yet he is you and he is me. Yet, he has many names, and answers to all of them — when you have the guts to open the curtin and yell "Yo, you in there?"
Or the even more metaphorical approach of coming to understand many of those things, both physical and mystical, and then, after leaving Temple 1 again and heading to my hotel for the last night on Shikoku, returning, without even blinking an eye, to the same old screwed up mental mindset that i always had, where One person seems to occupy an entirely inappropriate amount of my attention and satisfying his desires and perceived needs seems to take up all my time — and that One person is Me. :-(
Hmmmmm... which approach to take.....
7. Friends
I can't even begin to tell you about all the friends i have accumulated through the experience called the "Henro Trail." Of course there's Tom Ward, who comes down and walks a few days with me each year. Thank you. And there's David Moreton and Claire Tanaka, two great people living in Tokushima. A trip to Shikoku without meeting them for dinner wouldn't be a complete trip to the island.
And there are the hundreds and hundreds of people that write to me each year. If you are one of those i didn't respond to on time, or not at all, i do really apologize. I try, i really do, to respond to all in a reasonably timely fashon. I apologize if i didn't give you what you expected. But, you are all friends and i thank you all for writing.
But, more than anything else, once again i want to thank all the friends i made while walking the henro michi. Almost assuredly i won't see them again, but they were wonderful encounters and i value each and every opportunity i had to talk to people i met. Those that stopped to say hi. Those that stopped to chat. Those that offered directions. Those that offered settai. Thank you Shikoku.