Category: Travel

I was awake at first light. I packed up quickly and hit the road. The overnight rest did not do much to mitigate the pain, tiredness, and exhaustion, but I was able to move a little bit faster.

As soon as the sun cleared the horizon, I busted out the solar charger and started the slow process of recovering my phone power. It was a good hour long walk to the first temple of they and I came across a convenience store about 2/3 of the way there. I stopped for a quick bite to eat, standing in the parking lot before pushing on the final distance.

It was just after 7am when I reached Ichinomiya-ji (83). I dropped my stuff next to a familiar backpack and looked around to find the German guy. I explained what happened to me last night hoping for some sympathy. I got none. He had made it all the way here on foot yesterday after closing and camped out at a temple next door, where quite a few people also stayed.

When I collected my stamp and the Noukyosho office, the calligrapher gave me a little osettai (rock sugar?), creating a symmetry with the first temple of the first day (where I was given a handful of chocolates). I wandered south of the temple to find the Kotoden rail station and save myself the 5km trek into town. At the Hanazono station, I hopped off and hobbled over to the guesthouse I had booked. I had emailed the owner about dropping off my stuff in the morning, and he was in the living room chatting with some guests when I showed up. He actually checked me in at 8am, and I got rid of everything (including my computer for the first time) before heading back out the door.

It was a pretty long walk to the next temple, which was on top of another mountain (Yashima–which means “roof island”). En route, I swung by a 7-Eleven to grab a 2L bottle of water and a package of peanuts. I would have preferred a supermarket or drug store, but it was still too early for any of the ones I passed. The road up Yashima was busy with hikers and joggers. I met a little old lady and walked with her the final stretch up the hill. The conversation was limited, but I learned this was her 500th time up Yashima (in 10 years). Towards the top, there was a little box with a folder inside where locals could put a check mark next to their name. A bulletin board listed the climbing records of about a hundred people participating in this community activity.

The namesake Yashima temple was quite nice, and it had a garden section I did NOT visit because it entailed an entrance fee. The sun was high in the sky and bright and the views of the city from the tabletop plateau were quite breathtaking.

The next temple was on a neighboring mountain, which meant I had to climb all the way down (the onward path) walk 40 minutes across, then head back up. On the way, I passed a very famous udon restaurant (recommended by the LP). Being nearly noon, I thought I might pop in for a quick bite. I was mistaken. The place was packed. So I carried on. In order to save time and energy, I took the funicular up the second mountain (enjoying a half price ticket as a foreigner). I didn’t spend too much time on top of that mountain either, completing the rituals in a perfunctory manner and taking a minute at a lookout point.

I rode the funicular back down and swung back by the restaurant, assuming the lunch rush was over by 1 pm. It was even more packed. I saw the hostess had about six sheets in her hand, I counted roughly 100 people milling about the courtyard (it was a really old, traditional building). Giving up, I headed down to the Kotoden rail station to take another shortcut. On the way down, I realized there was a queue of maybe 50 cars waiting to get into the parking lot of the restaurant. Holy fcking cow, this is insane. Most of the cars were from different cities on different islands. These people had driven all the way here (or were here anyways on holiday) just for these noodles.

It was a good thing I bought those peanuts because they were able to tide me over. I rode the train over and visited my penultimate temple. Shido Temple (86) was quite interesting in that the grounds were basically an overgrown forest. It was a jungle maze trying to find the different temple halls. The Noukyosho office gave me an osettai (a pin). Outside the temple’s main gate, I paused to look at the map and was given a bottle of tea by a woman who had been sweeping up. Wow, so many offerings in the last day.

I had about a two hour walk (given my slowish pace) to reach the final temple, but as I had saved some energy, I knew I could make it. I stopped at the last convenience store for an iced coffee and chocolate pound cake before crossing the expressway and going back into the rural countryside. As I was still walking along the highway (before cutting down on the scenic route among farms), I received my final osettai from a man who was just driving along with his dogs in his car.

It was probably the best walk yet with beautiful scenery. I could see the distant mountain peaks behind which lay the 88th temple that I was not going to visit this time. There were a couple of rest stops on the way, but I needed to pee and I hurried along. I reached Temple 87 (Nagao-Ji) about 4pm. It was spacious and dusty. A group of (French?) cyclists were milling about acting like tourists. I completed my final ritual and said goodbye to the pilgrimage.

The terminal station of one of the Kotoden train lines was right there and the train had just arrived as I was walking up. The station agent beckoned me to jump straight on without stopping for a ticket (otherwise I would have either delayed the train or missed it).

I was back in the guesthouse before long. I took a long shower, put on clean clothes, and consulted the owner about dining options. Being Sunday, a lot of places were shut. Still wanting udon, I took his advice to walk about 20 minutes to a place that kept long hours and was popular among people as a place to sober up. It was basically empty and extremely confusing because I didn’t know there was a whole culture/process to ordering udon and was utterly unprepared.

I devoured the bowl (topped with meat and a raw egg) in maybe three or four bites and was still ravenously hungry. I swung by a convenience store on the way back for some dessert. I chilled in the living of the guesthouse for a bit, just relaxing and observing. Most of the guests, only a handful at this point (the last night of the Golden Week), were Japanese, but one Taiwanese guy came in. It was weird. He was taking a three day trip just to visit two of the art islands (side note: several of the small islands between Shikoku and Honshu are full of art museums and outdoor art works). Between the flight, the ferry, the museum tickets (including making reservations to enter the museum), and accommodation on the little island during the triennial art festival, it seems like quite a lot. I had considered visiting one of the islands on my way, but hearing about it in more detail really turned me off the idea.

48847 steps for the day.

Pilgrimage total: 362,257 steps.

Running Total: 29678.2 RMB (USD 4379.3)
Daily Average: 302.8 RMB (USD 44.69)

Well, back to paying tons of money every day… being homeless was “nice” while it lasted…

Despite sleeping comfortably in a windowless room, I did not sleep in. I was fully awake by 5 am, and not wanting to linger in a room, which must have 70 or 80 people snoozing away, I headed out to the lobby area. People were camped out sleeping in every corner, but a few souls were roaming about like zombies. The restaurant service wouldn’t kick in until 7am and I didn’t want to wait around that long for a cup of coffee so I headed into the men’s locker room to change. The baths themselves were closed for the night, so I didn’t even have the option of a quick soak before hitting the road…not that I would really want to.

I had briefly contemplated doing a bit of laundry in the sink and making use of the little machine that just runs a spin cycle, but it didn’t really seem worth the effort. I headed to the front desk dreading a huge bill, but it turned out to be exactly what I had been quoted at the Muragame tourist information desk. I happily paid, collected my luggage, and headed out into the refreshing pre-dawn glow. I needed some breakfast and internet time (having opted not to hang around the onsen using their free Wi-Fi), so I wandered over to a Lawson’s only to find they had no tables. I rounded the corner to a McDonald’s surprised to find it didn’t open until 8am. I haven’t had any Western fast food yet in Japan. Sure, I’ve eaten tons of donuts and breads and various pastries, but no McDonald’s, KFC, or even a Starbucks yet.

The third time was the charm and the 7-Eleven had a seat where I could get a bit of work done as I fueled up the metaphorical tank. Planning out the route for the day, I had one temple in this town, two more along the main trunk line, then two up in the mountains. I would have to exercise some creativity in arranging the schedule so that I could end up in Takamatsu (my ultimate destination) at the end.

Thought the Lonely Planet recommended this town (Utaze) as an off the beaten track destination, I didn’t see anything special in the buildings around the temple. I followed the path along in the bring morning sunshine, passing plenty of shopfronts that advertised free services for henro (though all we shut — either due to the holiday or the early hours). I came across another Henro hut that was little more than a bus stop on the side of the road and sat down for a minute. As it was 9am and the drug store was just opening, I decided to pop in for a little snack. Drug stores in Japan tend to be rather comprehensive in their offerings. The chains you find in the shopping arcades have really good prices on the selection of snacks, and this one–a big box retailer–was more like a Walmart in terms of having a bit of everything, including fresh produce, home appliances, sports equipment, etc. I commented to myself that it would have been a good place to start when preparing for this trip and I resisted the urge to see what they had in terms of camping gear.

I carried on to the next temple, which happened to have a train station near by. I had pretty good timing when I was done to hop on a train and save me 6 km en route to the next temple, which was also really close to a train station. On the train, I booked accommodation for the end of the pilgrimage and found a free Henro House (they typically charge guesthouse prices) in Takamatsu. I registered an account and made a reservation to stay there that night. I had about 8 or 9 temples left, the end of the Golden Week was around the corner, accommodation could be booked again (!), so it seemed like I was pulling into the final stretch of the pilgrimage.

Kokubu-ji (the second temple of that name) sat on a fairly large ground. Above it in the hills (or technically a plateau) were the next two temples. Seeing them in person, the mountain didn’t seem so high, and it was a mere 7km distance to either one. Compared to the distance and height of the trek up to Temple 60, I reckoned I could get up and back in about 5 hours. It was only 11am, so I could ideally be on the train into Takamatsu around 4pm, where I was expecting to check-in to a free sleeping place between 4 and 6.

I left my suitcase out of sight, just behind the main gate of the temple, and also took as much dead weight out of my backpack as I dared. I filled up my thermos from the bathroom sink (gross), and set off. The initial stretch headed upwards through the farmland and snaked around some reserviors. Eventually the foothill turned into the waist of the mountain and the trail got steep, real steep. After fully drenching my clothes in sweat, I paused to strip down to my undershirt. Eventually the trail flattened out after a climb of about 400 meters. There was a fork in the road, left for one temple, right for the other. I took them in order. Each temple was about 2.5 km from the central spot, so I figured it should be pretty quick. It wasn’t. There was still quite a bit of up and down and I was tired from both the day and the accumulated exertion of a week of walking. The temples were nice, but I was on the clock and hurried along at every opportunity. I bumped into the German guy again on my way to the first temple. I didn’t even ask where he found to sleep the previous night.

Just before the second of the two mountain top temples (Negoro-ji), I saw the fanciest Henro hut yet. It had a screen door and a loft! That would have been really nice to stay in, other than the necessity of preparing food and water. On the way back, I Japanese man eating an ice cream in a shop (okay, so I guess one could buy some supplies up on the plateau) waved me over, whipped out his phone, and spent 5 minutes trying to get his Google translate app to work. I was pretty sure he was asking “Where are you from” as he repeated himself over and over. It was rather amusing, and I patiently waited because I think he wanted an excuse to work the technology. Eventually, he just started guessing country names, and the last bit of doubt about his intention was removed. The problem with being American in Japan is that “America” is just “America.” It requires no nuance of Japanese knowledge to say.

My feet really hurt on the way down, but I couldn’t let up. It was already well past 4pm, and my new timeline was to get back to the temple and get my stuff before 5 pm–the closing hour. As I pulled up to the temple, I found that the gates were shut. I wasn’t imagining that they would lock up. There was a groundskeeper guarding the gate, allowing the worshipers still inside to filter out. He tried to wave me away, but I kept trying to explain in broken Japanese that my bags were inside. He relented and I quickly grabbed them and headed right back outside. Checking my watch, it was only 4:55.

I caught a train into Takamatsu right away, and it was only a 15 minute ride. However, my new problem was that I had specified a 4-6 pm estimated arrival window. Once I found a 7-Eleven to buy water (I was sooo thirsty) and get some internet (because my cellular data had been acting funky), I realized it would take me an hour to reach the Henro House. I needed to call them to let them know I would be late, but (a) I only have data, no calling and (b) the listing explicitly said they don’t speak English. I went over to the tourist information desk to ask for help. A couple of ladies were in the midst of a long conversation at the English language desk, but there was a free agent at the Chinese language desk.

I calmly explained the situation and asked if he could call the number indicated in the confirmation email. He decided to read the email, tell me he had never heard of the “hotel,” attempt to search for it on Google Maps, then tell me I should take the city tramway there. I had already figured out that I could take a bus which would drop me off very close. He pulled out a tram schedule and showed me there was one leaving in 5 minutes, so I rushed off to the tram station without him ever calling ahead. At the tram station, I bought a ticket and realized that (a) that the tram would leave at the same time as the bus (also twice hourly) and (b) that it would be a 3 kilometer walk from the closest tram station. I was furious at the utterly unhelpful Chinese guy working the information desk. (I could tell from his accent that he was actually Chinese.)

I gave up on the tram and decided to take the bus, even if it meant eating the tram ticket cost. To my surprise (and the ticket checkers when I attempted to leave), they refunded my money. The bus stop was right there and the bus came along in a couple of minutes. I was back out in the countryside in thirty minutes. I hopped off the bus and dragged myself along the road in the sunset looking for the henro house. None of the buildings had street addresses posted, and I passed right by it expecting it to have some kind of henro marking on it. I only found it by the location in Google Maps and confirmed by the photos on the website.

No one was home. Was it because I was 40 minutes after my arrival window or some other reason? My phone was down to 15% and though I had a phone number to call, I had no way to do so. After standing on the street some number of minutes, hoping someone would come along and rescue me. I dropped my stuff on the back porch, and hobbled over to the nearest convenience store to scrounge up some food and think. (I hadn’t eaten since 9am). The convenience store (a Daily Yamazaki) didn’t have wifi or a public payphone that I could see. My final plan, which seems to be typical for me, was to just suffer it out. I took out my contact lenses, brushed my teeth, and went back to the house.

I suppose there was an outside chance that someone would be there at this point. If not, then there would be no harm in sleeping in the backyard. Concrete is a lot harder than a wooden bench, but I’ve been getting used to the misery.

51757 total steps for the day.

Running Total: 28966.2 RMB (USD 4284.6)
Daily Average: 298.6 RMB (USD 44.17)

The good news is that there was a Family Mart with indoor seating close to my sleeping place, so at first light (roughly 4:30 am) I packed up and headed over there for a taste of civilization. By this point, I had figured out how to handily circumvent their Wi-Fi limitations (FM gives you 3 20-minute sessions per day, the other two major chains give you 2 1-hour long sessions). Essentially, I cleared the cookies on my computer and used a second email address, allowing me up to an hour of computer internet time and an hour of phone internet time.

It was well after 7am by the time I hobbled over to the first temple for the day. Zentsui, the eponymous town which grew around a major temple and supposed birthplace of the guy who started this whole 88-temple pilgrimage thing over 1100 years ago, is small and densely packed with temples. So, I had a busy morning. I dumped my luggage and headed half a click up the hill to the next temple, which I later learned had been moved down into the valley when it had previously sat some 500 meters above on a steep cliff.

Swinging back into the first temple to grab my suitcase, I saw a familiar backpack, and stopped to chat a few moments with the German guy. Apparently, a Japanese man saw him walking along and invited him to stay the night at his home, prepared a special vegetarian dinner for him, and drove him there in the morning. WTF. Pro-tip for doing the pilgrimage. Don’t talk to anyone else unless you enjoy dealing with the feelings of deep unfairness in the universe.

I dragged my stuff along to the next temple, and took a somewhat longish route (properly following the walking signs) to the namesake temple. Zentsui-ji is enormous occupying two city blocks, either of which would make for an enormous temple. The grounds were overrun by tourists, and hawkers lined the alleyway between the two campuses, selling roasted octopus, fried chicken, and ice cream. It was a total circus, and I started looking around for money changers to whip. I ran into the German guy again at this temple. Of course, he would catch up to me as I walk so slow.

It was still fairly early, but I swung by a supermarket to get a cheap lunch on the way to the last temple in the town. I ate on a bench outside the supermarket and enjoyed a sugary iced latte from a bottle. After the next temple, there was a long walk to my final temple of the day. Just before I reached it, a little old man called out to me from his home to stop me and hand me a little clay figurine making the prayer gesture. I got the sense that he spends his afternoons perched at the front window watching for henro.

Looking over my resources on the walk, I knew of a pilgrim hut in the next town over (Muragame). It was another fairly longish walk away, but getting there would situate me to possibly do a little sightseeing in the morning before continuing on (there was a well preserved city castle and a museum dedicated to paper fans). However, as I pulled into town and found the hut, I was disappointed by the prospects of sleeping there. Firstly it was right on the road, more like a bus stop bench than a partially sheltered space. Secondly, there were two old men sitting on each of the benches. One was listening to a radio through headphones. The other, clearly a homeless man, drinking a small bottle of shochu (alcohol). This was the first place that felt like a city since I had left Matsuyama, and I couldn’t count on the just leaving my stuff unprotected. Perhaps I was a bit biased, but I also worried about how safe it would be to sleep there.

So, I took a walk around town, deciding to look for somewhere else, possibly indoors to sleep. I inquired at one hotel and balked at the 9000 yen price. Heading to the train station to ask at the tourist information desk, I bumped into another henro who was stuffing a bag into a coin locker. He didn’t really speak English and whatever Japanese I had learned prior to starting the pilgrimage was basically burned up by the exertion of walking so many days. Nevertheless, I conveyed that I had nowhere to sleep and he was determined to help me. We went to the tourist desk together and asked. It was Friday night and Muragame was hosting a festival involving the castle over the weekend. That explained the renao (bustling crowds) I saw when I looked down the street heading to the castle. Eventually, they recommended I go on to the next town and sleep in an onsen there. I had actually seen an advertisment for the onsen (in English) at the last temple. Apart from holidays, they offer a special rate for henro.

Welcoming the opportunity for a bath and indoor sleeping, I took the train one stop, hobbled over to a grocery store, and ate a huge meal. I was able to charge up, and spent a bit of time reviewing Japanese. Towards the end of my meal, a middle aged man handed me a bottle of tea as an osettei.

The onsen wasn’t far away, though it was dark by that point. It was very crowded. I left my walking stick in the umbrella stand, put my shoes in the shoe locker, and went up to the counter. The giant boards explaining the pricing in Japanese confused the hell out of me, and the guy who checked me in neither spoke English nor pulled out anything written in English to show me. Fortunately, I had gotten a coupon from the Muragame tourist info desk, and handed that over. I was given towels, pajamas, a toothbrush, and razor, and they took my suitcase off my hands. I wasn’t able to confirm the price at the time, so I was worried I would end up getting nickled and dimed (except with 100 and 500 yen coins!).

The baths were very nice. The highlight was a pool with Chinese medicine, and the sauna (which closed early) had a guy working inside fanning people to encourage more sweating. There were also a carbolic acid pool and an electric current pool, so I guess those aren’t as rare and unique a thing as I thought. I soaked well, but was conscious not to over soak my feet because the worst thing that could happen would be to break open all my foot blisters. After bathing the second time and shaving, I got ready for bed and explored the two floors of common space to check out the sleeping situation.

Some premium areas required an extra charge, but mostly it was a free-for-all across three or four rooms. One room had recliners, two rooms with sliding doors had mats. Generally speaking, everyone checks in, grabs all the blankets, a couple books from the manga library and reserves spaces before the bathe. I was stuck with pretty much nothing. I found an employee straightening up the sleeping spaces (in order to squeeze my people in to rows on the floor eventually) and asked about blankets. He got me a set, and I laid them down on a floor and went to sleep. I was lucky I always travel with my own pillow. It was very warm at first, but cooled off in the middle of the night. Nevertheless, it felt like a real luxury compared to my previous week.

36200 steps for the day.

Running Total: 28522.75 RMB (USD 4211.67)
Daily Average: 297.1 RMB (USD 43.87)

Wow, I really ate a lot that day. I started the day out with a donut (as usual at this point), but supplemented with a banana, orange juice, and yogurt to be a little healthier. At lunch, I had some rice balls and a combo tray of kimchi (a little sweeter in Japan than Korea) plus a big chunk of steamed cake. For dinner, I went hog wild on the discounted items, picking up everything 20-30% off: curry rice, a package of three mixed vegetable croquettes, a green smoothie, a salad, and some sort of chocolate chip butter roll for dessert.

I felt pretty good in the morning despite my critically low phone charge and no immediate prospects of getting it charged. The plan was to leave most of my stuff in the hut to visit two temples on the coast then swing back by to pick it up on the way to the third temple. I headed over to the Family Mart to grab a coffee and a sports drink, and drank those crouch outside (because still no tables). The sun came out, and I quickly busted out my solar charger and loitered there, eating my breakfast and using the internet while gaining critical battery power.

Bodily and mentally charged for the day (I had missed two days of Duolingo because of the convenience store situations), I walked the half hour over to Kanon-ji (the town’s namesake temple), bumping into the German guy on the way and walking together. We had our own morning routines, he went over to the Lawson’s to check his email while I was at the Family Mart studying Japanese for 15 minutes. For being a combo of two temples, it still really only felt like a single temple. After checking them off the list, I climbed to the top of the hill to get a look at the sea and the giant sand sculpture of a coin on the beach. It may have been the morning light or the rain from the last few days, but the sculpture looked a little washed out.

I headed back east wearing my backpack on the front to maximize exposure of my solar charger to the bright sunlight. After not seeing the sun for a few days, I welcomed the UV (but still slathered on some sunscreen). I grabbed my stuff from the Henro hut and proceeded onward to the next temple. About a block before reaching it, I took a small detour into a supermarket, which had a corner “cafe” of tables, and had an early lunch in the air conditioning. Afterwards, I visited Motoyama temple, which was surprisingly crowded, and proceeded over to the namesake train station to take a shortcut. It was getting quite hot by this point, but the sunlight had fully charged my phone, so I was grateful for that.

To get a local train to my target station would have required waiting two hours, so I hopped on the limited express train to the station before it. I still saved roughly half the distance, but had a long two hours of trudging north in the heat. Along the way, I passed by a house where an elderly couple were seeing off a friend. They called to me to stop and after a brief chat, gave me a bottle of tea as an osettai. I thanked them profusely and carried on. When I reached a crossroads marking the paths for the next two temples, I decided to deposit my suitcase at a quiet Shinto shrine. The next temple was well up a hill which would be a very tiring climb without any baggage. In fact, there was a staircase of a 108 steps, for which the temple is somewhat famous.

I bumped into the German guy again and was impressed how quickly he could travel on foot when I skipped kilometers at a time by train. Of course, my detours to pick up luggage and go to train stations add quite a bit of distance and I noticed my general pace was a measly 3 km per hour. On my way down from the temple, there was a very busy michi no eki with an attached onsen and park. I contemplated stopping there for the night, but being only 3 pm, I decided to move on to the next town.

Taking the roadway as opposed to the over the mountain footpath, I had some extra distance to cover, but I had no choice. As I was dragging the suitcase along the highway, I figured out a way to use the bungee cord to attach it to my backpack to provide some assistance and redirect nearly half the work to my frame as opposed to one arm.

On the other side of the mountains, I came across another small rest area, basically just a single bench with a roof, but otherwise reclaimed by the surrounding flora. A largish Family Mart was only a block away along the highway. Not being an optimal spot to stop, I carried on, hoping to find something nice closer to the next pair of temples. I failed to turn where I should have (being distracted by the road signs for drivers), and ended up near a public park. It was a nice park, and I would have stopped there except for the very prominent locking gate. After a brief rest and a bit of inspection, I verified that it locked up at 6pm, making it untenable. I swung by the next temple, reaching it after it was closed. I had no idea where to sleep, and was sitting around waiting for someone to rescue me, but no one came. A monk went about his duties cleaning up the candles and incense from the day, a couple of henro strolled in late, did their rituals, then rushed off to the next temple.

I decided to backtrack to the Family Mart and get some food. I supposed I lucked out because the Family Mart actually had seats, so I could chill their for a couple hours eating and eating. After dark, I went back to the little bench on the intersection of two highways, shooed away the ants, used a wet wipe to brush away the dirt and godknowswhat, laid down my picnic blanket tarp, and did the best I could to not expose any skin to the open air. It was a rough night.

45316 steps for the day.

Running Total: 28242.5 RMB (USD 4193.6)
Daily Average: 297.3 RMB(USD 44.1)

I seem to be adjusting to sleeping rough, as I seem to sleep better each night. Or at least, I’ve learned to put on enough clothing to stay warm through the night. Since I needed to charge my phone, which was under 30% at this point, I decided to take a minor detour to swing by a different Family Mart in the morning. Still no tables. I was standing in the doorway drinking my coffee and got kicked out because if there are not seats you are forbidden to consume products on the site. The attendant told me to use a bench outside, which was wet from the rain.

The next temple was still some distance away and at an elevation of 400 meters. The one after it was the highest in the circuit at an elevation of over 900 meters. I knew there was no way I could make it 19 km and scale a cliff with my karma weighing me down, so my only hope was to hitch a ride from the parking lot of temple 65.

The forecast said there should be a window of rain between 9 and 10, but by 7am it was alternating between a drizzle and a light rain. My Google Maps was acting up again (sometimes it stops accessing the Google servers on the data connection), and I ducked under a highway overpass to wait out the rain for a bit. I laid down my plastic picnic blankets, sat down and plugged my phone into my computer to try to get it from 18% to something sustainable for the day. When my phone passed 50%, I ventured back out into the wet and trudged uphill past cemeteries and farm houses.

I seemed to have a bit of luck as I was gaining plenty of elevation on decently paved roads suitable for dragging along the rolling suitcase. Even when the path for walkers and drivers diverged it was still mostly paved. As I followed a path along the inside of a jungle ravine and reached a bend where I’d have to clamber up some number of steps, a van came barreling up the footpath. It failed to make the turn due to a combination of mud patches and a little ditch across the road for some piping. After several attempts, the driver decided to back up into the cliff wall where his right tires got stuck in the gutter. I watched him push against the wall with his arm as he tried forward and reverse in an attempt to free himself. He climbed across the van, out the passenger side, and pulled a large metal pipe from the back in an attempt to lever the van back onto the road. For the record, I was making efforts to help during this entire ordeal, but at this point, I grabbed the pipe, put my back against van and pushed in two directions with enough force to let the tire catch the road and propel the van forward. Unlike in the sitcoms, I did not land in a puddle of mud or get a mud shower as the van peeled out. I did notice that I was in a swam of mosquitoes for the entire show.

Van free, the driver decided to carry on to the temple on foot with me hobbling behind at some distance. The signage on the path pointed one way, but my map indicated another direction. As one direction was a narrow dirt footpath and the other partially paved, I trusted the map. It became increasingly less paved, and entered the forest where the trail gradually became overgrown and full of wicked spirits. I persisted nevertheless. As I started hauling myself and my luggage over tree roots and through bushes full of spiders and centipedes, I gave up all hope of staying remotely dry or clean. The rain had subsided, but water was on every leaf waiting to smear me. The last 50 meters were a veritable nightmare, a scene from a war movie where the soldiers attempted to make it up a steep muddy hill. I emerged from the last scramble on the road, some 500 meters left to the temple. I proceeded to drag my suitcase along and as I pulled in the parking lot I noticed that the two main wheels had finally bitten the dust. Well, this is going to be a problem, I thought to myself.

I went straight to the bathroom, took off my white ceremonial robe and gave it a quick wash in the sink which had an automatic faucet and no plug. I wrung it out and put it back on. It didn’t matter that it was wet. I was already wet and the rain had started up again. After performing my rituals, I climbed down the stairs to the parking lot, which had at least 5 or 6 cars. I let a couple of people get into their cars and drive off as a I screwed up the courage to pounce. I approached an elderly couple in full henro gear and asked for a lift. They welcomed me, and I laid my tarps across the backseat of their Prius to minimize the amount of dirtying it.

The ride to the next temple, or I should say the cable car to the next temple, went quickly. It was a steep price for the cable car, but there was a significant discount for foreigners. What a pleasant surprise. Temple 66 (Unpen-ji) was pretty amazing and completely engulfed in clouds giving it an otherworldly look.

I got a ride from the same couple back down the mountain to the next temple, where I insisted on parting ways and let them speed their way through the next couple of temples while I continued on foot. Having to deal with my suitcase again and being about 5 km from a possible henro hut was not a great situation. After a couple of iterations, I found out I could drag the suitcase backwards on its still functional two front wheels. It’s a bit more awkward, but otherwise workable solution, though I do not know how long it will last.

Getting into town and nearing where I thought the hut would be, I popped into a supermarket for some water. I noticed that the supermarket had a bench with a large sign in English (only) saying “No Eating”. What the hell is wrong with this part of Shikoku? Is there some anti-pilgrim agenda making it impossible to eat anywhere? I couldn’t find the hut, and eventually went to Lawson’s (with no seats) to log into the Wi-Fi to find it on the map. I must have walked an extra 3km looking for that thing. The hut was circular shaped, making it less than ideal for sleep, but I had little choice.

I dropped my stuff and hobbled back to the supermarket to get some food. If I have to eat outside, I might as well not pay convenience store prices. On the way, I bumped into a German guy I had briefly encountered on top of the mountain. (He really moved fast). I asked him where he was going (the same hut), and suggested he grab food from the supermarket first. I bought a lot of food, enough for dinner and breakfast.

I took a bench and he blew up an air mattress and laid his sleeping bag out on the floor. Apparently, this was the roughest hut he had stayed in during his month-long trek so far. According to him, lots of places have showers and stoves and hot water. I was fairly incredulous.

It was nice to have a bit of company, and I was out not long after dark.

33728 steps for the day.

Running Total: 28066 RMB (USD 4167.43)
Daily Average: 298.6 RMB (USD 44.33)

It was such a comfortable night, having some degree of cushioning under my body and being able to spread out, that I “overslept.” I woke up, returned all the benches to where I had found them, and noticed a cat watching me intently. There you are, I thought to myself, and proceeded to serve the pouch of cat food. Another identical cat showed up and I kicked myself for being stingy and only buying one pouch, which honestly wouldn’t fill the stomach of even a single stray.

The sky was gray, but the rain had stopped and it looked like I might get lucky and avoid some rain after all. I carried my suitcase back down to Temple 61, stowed it under a sign with a bit of a roof in case it started raining again, then promptly headed up to the mountain–a 9 km trek (one way). I was under the impression that it would take me just over 2 hours on the way up, but I was wrong, and despite the initial joy of being liberated from my heavy karma (luggage), I was quickly swearing under my breath “where the F is this temple already.” It didn’t help that many sections of the route were long and steep, or that every so often I’d pass a sign: 3.2 km to go. Then, after what felt like 20-30 of strenuous exertion, the next sign would announce 3.1 km to go. WTF? When I checked my step counter at the top, it told me that I had traveled a distance of 12 km, not 9km. Like Shangri-la, this mountain top temple always seemed to be just out of reach. I wasn’t too anxious about my luggage being left in plain sight in public, but I had a long day ahead of me and wanted to be quick about it so I could fit all the temples in.

The way back down, which should have been quicker, felt equally long and strenuous. Apparently, the mountain is uphill both ways. I ran out of water and with each breath focused on the now of “I’m gd tired” and “I’m so thirsty.” Mindfulness is sometimes a double-edged sword. When I reached the reservior, I found a water fountain and a bathroom and with renewed strength finished the last 4 km back to Temple 61.

Temple 61 is a very unique temple. It looks more like a masonic lodge than your typical East Asian architecture. The main hall was on the second floor of the massive black obelisk-like building, which was a auditorium of seating around the altar–like a cathedral or megachurch. At the sign-in station, the monk handed me a laminated sheet explaining the Temple 62 had exited the association of 88 Temples and doubled their fees. However, I could visit a “temporary” alternative worship site in the second parking lot of Temple 61. I had seen the signs for it and been confused. I walked the 50 meters there for my second round of templing, but went ahead and swung by “Temple 62” to burn some incense. I was tempted to ask them if what I had been told was truly the case. There is a lot of money at stake. If one temple slanders the next and redirects the pilgrims to its own new site, it could really fill its coffers.

Being well after lunch time at this point (and two hours behind my imagined schedule), I was famished and headed to a nearby Lawson’s only to find that there were no counter and chairs inside. That put a cramp in my plans to have lunch. I carried on to Temple 63, but spotting a grocery store, popped in and was delighted ot find it had a section of tables as a rest area. I rusled up a lunch and plugged in my phone at an outlet to charge for a bit.

As I was eating, a Japanese woman (a math teacher at a secondary school) came by to chat with me for a bit. She said something about planning to open an international school within the next couple years and was interested in my impressions of the area. I wasn’t helpful. With two temples and less than 2 hours until closing time, I had to rush off. The next one was just a block away, but on the 3.3 km walk to my last temple for the day, I got caught in the rain. While I was sheltering under an overhang for a few moments, I realized that every time I stopped to talk to a Japanese person (in the last two days) I got caught in the rain. I think the lesson I am supposed to learn from that is that I should be more of an a-hole.

When the rain dialed back to a light drizzle, I carried on, reaching the temple at 4:55. I got my book signed straight away, which was fortunate, because by the time I finished my rituals, they had locked up the counter. There was a park/hut next to the temple, so I could have stopped there for the night. However, because the next temple was some 40 km away, I figured it would be better to catch a train over to the general area for a fresh start in the morning. I hobbled over to the nearest train station and realized that train schedule was not convenient. After a longish wait, I hopped on the next train in the right direction, which ended its run at the next station. So I had to get off there. I grabbed a cup of instant noodles at a 7-Eleven while waiting for the next train to take me to my destination. It sucks that splitting the train ride ended up costing me an extra 100 yen, but that’s how things work.

When I got off at the correct train station, I went into full homeless mode, looking around the train station and evaluating its sleep-ability. Fortunately, however, I knew of a henro hut about a kilometer away, so I limped myself over there. It was on a traffic island where a side road intersected the highway. There were no facilities other than a bench, a roof, and partial walls. I dropped my stuff, changed into sandals and headed up the highway to the nearest Family Mart. It also had no tables. The instant noodles had pretty much filled me up, so after making use of the restroom, I just grabbed some chocolate covered peanuts and a drink, which I consumed back at the hut.

Each night had been getting warmer, and it was nice that the humidity was down some. I looked at the weather report, and other than two windows of 50% chance of rain, I looked to be in the clear.

47311 steps for the day

Running Total: 27831.3 RMB (USD 4132.5)
Daily Average: 299.3 RMB (USD 44.44)

In the early morning, I had to use the restroom, but there was no restroom and I didn’t think it appropriate to relieve myself just anywhere. So I made use of a bottle, which wasn’t large enough.

When I was awake and packed up, I dragged myself back over to the Family Mart for a quick breakfast. The first temple wasn’t too far of a walk, though it was in the foothills where the city (farmland at this point) met the mountains. The next temple was on top of a mountain and I followed the henro paths to find that there were some significant sections that required me to manually lift my luggage to walk over weeds and tree roots. I stopped at one intersection with the paved car road to fiddle around with the rope, but quickly gave up on making a harness. After toughing it out for the next 50m shortcut, I stuck to the car road which I took all the way down even though it added more than a kilometer to the next hike that lead all the way across town, pretty much due east and crossing both the highway and the train tracks.

Noticing a supermarket on my way, I popped in and grabbed a 100 yen apple on impulse (that was a sale), some beverage and another pack of peanuts mixed with those soy sauce flavored crunchy rice snacks. I carried on to the next temple to have my picnic and perform the rituals.

It was still fairly early in the afternoon, so I was optimistic about the next group of temples a short train ride away (to save me the 24 km distance). I imagined I would drop my suitcase at temple 62, backtrack to temple 60 and get all three done. Well, I was dreaming. By the time I got off the train, I was competing against several elements. I was briefly detained by a woman with her elementary school age daughter to serve as a English conversation practice. Temple 62, which was right next to the train station had a very hostile aura about it. It was the first temple I had seen with locking gates and a prominant “No Photos” sign in multiple languages. I decided to drag my luggage with me to Temple 61. The route was a bit longer than I was expecting from the map and followed a very busy highway with basically no shoulder. The cars weren’t going fast, but there was constant flow. Then it started to rain.

Temple 61 was massive, and I looked around a bit, not exactly sure what I was looking for. I did find a old Spanish man–the first foreigner I had seen so far on the trail. He was doing the circuit for the second time, in the company of an elderly Japanese couple he had met the first time. They–who had made an entire 45 day itenerary with guesthouse bookings six months ago–made pitying sighs about me not having a hotel and offered me chocolates.

I noticed a sign saying that it would take 3 hours to reach temple 60 by foot. Being almost 3 (and raining), there was no way I could do that before dark. So, the next order of business was figuring out a dry place to stay for the night. I had seen a sign for a michi-no-eki, which is a general term for highway rest stops. In my internet researches, it had come up as a possible place to camp out, so I figured it would be worth looking into. I walked the looong 2km to the “Forest Oasis,” crossing under a real highway (toll expressway) and climbing a steep hill to find that it was still under construction and basically just a parking lot for the onsen next door. I was hot, tired, and soaked by a mixture of rain and sweat, and I really started to think about throwing in the towel and calling it quits.

I headed back towards town, and noticing the public park I had passed before, took a chance going up that hill. I found a large area sheltered from the rain with benches. A mother was sitting there while her daughter played with a stray cat that seemed to have dominion over the office/entrance for the croquette field. I made use of the bathroom and decided to wash my face and hair in the bathroom sink. I changed into dry clothes, hung my wet clothes on some benches and went to the nearest convenience store. After a satisfying meal, I picked up some cat food and some stuff for breakfast in the morning.

It was dark by the time I got back, and someone had been by to lock up the office (meaning I couldn’t exactly sleep inside). There was no sign of the cat anywhere, and I was worried it might have been locked inside. The bathrooms were also locked, but I could get water from a water fountain right there and I felt no compunctions about relieving myself anywhere with the rain washing everything. Two of the benches were both as long as me and covered with a bit of padding. I dragged them together under the middle of the shelter (think of a covered car port bending around the bathroom building and the office building). Because there were three roofs draining in weird angles, there was quite a lot of water everywhere despite not being directly rained on.

As I was falling asleep, a cop car pulled up and a hurried officer rushed over to some cabinet affixed to the outside wall to sign in or whatever. He paused for a half second when he saw my pants laid out on the bench under him, but didn’t notice me until he was on his way out. He looked twice, then figured it wasn’t worth getting wet for and went on his way. There was occasional traffic passing through the park at night (I guess its a shortcut). The wind picked up and I started to get wet, so I dragged the benches over the awning directly in front of the women’s restroom. That way I had a wall on two sides as well as the roof and the hum of a vending machine.

37545 steps for the day.

Running Total: 27611 RMB (USD 4099.82)
Daily Average: 300 RMB (USD 44.56)

After a long, fitful night I awoke around dawn. It was peaceful, and I might have even enjoyed the “camping” if I was better prepared. With the sky lightened by the rising sun, there was no compelling reason to continue laying uncomfortably, so I got up and, after a bit of pacing around to warm up, changed out of the multiple layers of warm clothes into what I’d be wearing for the day. I spent some time fiddling with my luggage and a length of rope I picked up at a Daiso the previous night. I know there must be some way to rope the suitcase to my back. Unfortunately, I had bought bicycle rope (bungee cord material) which was a little too stretchy to be of any use.

The next temple was very close. Despite being so early, there were already a handful of worshippers. I was prepared to wait around until 7 when the temple office opened to get my book stamped and signed, but it wasn’t necessary. Monks wake up early. So, as part of the 88-temple circuit, you collect inkstamps and a page of calligraphy as proof that you have visited (if not worshipped) at each of the temples. Of course, one has to pay (a flat rate of 300 yen) for that proof. With the 20 dollar book that it all goes into, it will be a very expensive book by the time it is completed. Nevertheless, it might be the most exciting part of the pilgrimage–to watch so many experienced hands deftly handle a brush and ink stone.

On my way to the next temple, I popped into a convenience store for a coffee and breakfast, enjoying a bit of a break with free Wi-Fi. After the second temple, I saw on the map that I was pretty close to a beach, so I took a short detour to enjoy the scenery. I spotted a Daiso and popped in for another batch of supplies (a second picnic blanket for more coverage, a hat to block the sun*, proper rope, and an impulse purchase of a snack). As the next temple was some 34.6 km away and I was dragging luggage, I decided not to spend the day on a arduous trek and hopped a train at the next village station. Another old Japanese woman stroke up a conversation with me while she was waiting for her train headed the other way.

The train was fairly crowded and I almost regretted not walking as I saw how close we were to the coastline and how most of the highway had some sort of sidewalk alongside it. I still had a 4 km hike from the train station to the next temple. Afterwards, I followed the marked path over a cemetary hill (which required a few stretches of physically lifting my suitcase), but otherwise it wasn’t much of a problem dragging my suitcase along city streets. Other than the sheer exhaustion of a heavy backpack and a heavy suitcase. I visited two more temples before calling it quits.

Along the route, I kept noticing the same fellow pilgrims at each of the temples. We walked at different paces but due to various factors we kept overtaking each other. Other than a visual recognition, there was no real comraderie, however. Before my last temple, I spotted an Aeon and decided to make a quick pass to look at blankets and backpacks. The biggest backpacks were more reasonable priced, but with the soreness in my shoulders I knew there was no way I was going to fit all my stuff in a backpack and carry on as if that was an improvement. Getting back on track and running into the slower of the henro at an intersection, a woman rushed up on her bicycle. I assumed I was in her way or something, but she popped off and dug out some coins to offer us. Wow.

On the way out of the last temple, I saw my first foreigner for some time. He was strolling up from the parking lot with his Asian girlfriend. They gave me a look, and I was reminded of how ridiculous I am doing this in the most difficult manner imaginable. I stopped for the night at a henro hut about a kilometer on the way to the next temple. It was a fairly basic shelter next to and taken care of by the nursing home. It faced an empty unpaved parking lot. I half expected at least one other henro to come along at some point but no one ever showed. I’ve seen bedrolls and other camping gear strapped to some backpacks, so I assume others are also sleeping rough.

My feet were super sore and I changed into sandals to let them rest. I dumped my stuff, not really caring if anyone would disturb it and hobbled over to a nearby Family Mart to use the restroom and have dinner. Not wanting to linger too long, I was back at the shelter by 8. I put on a podcast, and dozed off. The night was a few degrees warmer and I slept on a bench with “walls” on three sides, long enough to stretch out and wide enough to roll over. Maybe I was just too tired, but I slept fairly alright other than waking up because I had kicked off all the covers.

32964 steps for the day.

Running Total: 27428.9 RMB (USD 4074.16)
Daily Average: 301 RMB (USD 44.77)

*So part of the traditional henro gear is a conical straw hat. I think it would be a little too weird to wear that, or at least, I could definitely see how posting photos of me in it would be edging on racism. Fortunately, the idea of paying 20 dollars for a straw hat made it an easy choice. I picked up a straw hat (in a more Western looking style) at Daiso for $1.50.

Japan’s Golden Week had finally arrived and I was face-to-face with the unknown, or at least imprecise plans to follow a part of the Shikoku 88-temple pilgrimage until the travel mania subsided and I could book a dorm bed again.

I lingered in the guesthouse as long as I could, only packing up and leaving at checkout time. I had seen several signs at various tourist information desks advertising “Hands Free Travel” and the Mt. Aso tourist desk even had a poster listing prices to “mail” your luggage to a hotel in the next town while you traveled unencumbered. So, obviously, since I didn’t exactly want to set out on a walking pilgrimage with a backpack and a rolling suitcase, my first order of business was to find the Hands Free counter and sort that out. Through online research, I found that the only counter in Matsuyama was at the airport, which means I waited until today to head over there. It was a short bus ride from the JR train station.

I asked at the tourist information desk and confusion ensued. Long story short: the service was only to take your luggage from the airport and send it into town. I was recommended to arrange parcel delivery through the convenience store, which has a multiple purpose self service terminal (in Japanese). At a loss for what to do, I went back into town, threw my suitcase and as much dead weight as possible into a coin locker then jumped on a Iyotetsuo-operated train to take me to the southeast of town to start the journey. I hit four temples and really enjoyed the walk in the bright sunshine. It certainly helped that I wasn’t carrying much weight.

Walking back into town, I swung by the outdoor outfitters again just to price a trekker’s backpack (on the off chance it was a reasonable price, it may have been worth switching over). They were crazy expensive. Plan B or C or whatever it was at this point was to see what I could find at the Daiso to either makeshift something to strap the suitcase to my back (just in case) and find a picnic blanket or something to either (a) lay on or (b) wrap myself up in. I also swung by the henro supply shop to pick up the handle cover for the walking stick and the naked wood was rough on the hands.

One interesting thing about being a pilgrim is that people really do treat you differently. While resting on a bench during my last minute shopping spree, an older Japanese lady came up to talk to me for a bit.

Eventually, I ended up back at the lockers, grabbed my stuff and hopped on another train taking me a bit northwest of town. I dragged my stuff to a Family Mart, at a simple dinner and charged up some electronics. After night fell, I made my way 1.5 km in the dark to find a public park on the way to the next temple. It wasn’t much fun dragging my suitcase, and I felt rather conspicuous on the side of the road as car after car sped by. The park was slightly removed from the main highway, which meant there was almost no traffic passing directly next to it. Lucky for me there was a gazebo of sorts with benches, and the L shaped bench was almost long enough to accommodate me.

Camping is very definitely a thing in Japan. I’ve met quite a few people who travel that way. My problem is that I don’t have a tent or a sleeping bag–not that I would want the extra weight. The other problem is that despite being nearly May and scorching hot most of the time, a cold front blew in, dropping temperatures to single digits (Celsius). I was grateful to have my suitcase with me as time after time I dug into it to pull out more clothes and put them on. The wind picked up a couple of times, but mostly it was calm. I managed to sleep fitfully through the night.

28589 steps for the day.

Running Total: 27153.9 RMB (USD 4034.8)
Daily Average: 301.7 (USD 44.83)

It sucks, I wasted over 1500 yen running to the airport and using a coin locker when I could have left my luggage in the guesthouse for the day.