Week 3 Shikoku pilgrimage

Fear and loathing in Japan

Day 17

Today I was very hungover after last nights izakaya drinking session.

I walked 10km and just wanted to lay down somewhere, anywhere.

So I cheated again and got the train- 1 carriage long. The conductor was very pretty and tiny with perfect hair and the whitest skin- like a public transport geisha.

So I skipped 10km.

I walked another 4 km up to temple 28.

A lady stopped me on the way to give me a brochure about a particularly right wing version of Buddhism called Happy Science. The leader, now dead, was a 4 foot 9 inch obese Japanese who said he saw spirits and got messages from Moses amongst others. He failed at school and sounded like a nutter.

Arigato I said politely.

The stamp lady gave me a brooch- ossetai they call it. Gifts to pilgrims.

I have a book in which each temple puts a stamp and does brushwork calligraphy. You pay 500 yen for this. It helps finance the temple.

I’ve noticed all these hair driers in the stamp office. Today I saw a guy with a large scroll using the hairdryer on it to dry the ink. Some people have scrolls, others get their pilgrim vests or jackets stamped.

My lodging was near to the temple but nobody was there and I waited a couple of hours.

The room was clean and nice. The shower was hot and powerful. They have super strong water pressure in Japan.

They’d thoughtfully provided another outfit to wear for after my shower. I only wash my clothes once a week even though I only have 1 outfit.

The bed roll was the usual struggle to work out- the weirdo elasticated towelling covers and no pillow case. I use a towel on the pillow.

I was so hungry but had to wait till 6pm for food. By that time my appetite has gone.

There was an American guy P in the restaurant. He went through a divorce last year. He’s probably in his late 50s.

It was nice to talk to someone. P doesn’t get lonely on the road though. He doesn’t listen to podcasts or books he just thinks of Buddhist prayers.

I admitted that I start thinking of all the people that have hurt me.

Then he admitted something similar. But was like- let it go.

Other people really have a problem being honest don’t they?

The lady that cooked the dinner announced ‘I’m going to sing and play piano for you. I’m only a beginner’

We listened as she gingerly played then warbled. It was charmingly amateurish but also quite surreal.

The food was vegan. Okara, the waste from making tofu, which wasn’t too bad, it’s usually very dry, and shabu shabu, vegetables dipped in ponzu and cold tempura. Why do they serve it cold?

P and I will have our breakfast at 6 am.  Not sure if we will walk together.

He booked the same guesthouse as me for tomorrow night- Bonito.

Day 18

I walked with P to temple 29. He lent me a knee strap then which I only took to be polite.

He insisted that I wait for him. I stood outside while he leisurely finished his breakfast, forgot his bag upstairs, etc

It really annoyed me. Why should I wait?

Why should I miss my favourite part of the day as dawn breaks?

I owe him nothing.

We then walked. He took the piss because my gps on the hebro helper app hasn’t caught up?

Do you get lost often he chortled.

No.

He then talked about his divorce last year. How he’d been married 20 years with 2 step sons that didn’t like him.

I was wondering why.

His wife didn’t act like a wife for 5 years previously.

He’d been nice he complained.

He’d been bitter for a while but wasn’t anymore.

Yeah right.

All of us are bitter. Especially over 60!

He has a daughter who has dogs instead of children.

He has no one really. He has a pension of 37k dollars a year. He travels so he can live within his means. He has no home.

Last night I’d locked my door. My gut didn’t trust him.

When we got to temple 29 he wanted to look around in his usual slow way.

I said look I’m on a roll here, I’m going to go.

I walked very fast to temple 30.

After wanting company all this time, now I couldn’t get away fast enough.

At temple 30, 7 kms away, a pleasant flat sunny walk, a Japanese guy bought me chocolate milk.

I sped onto temple 31, starting to get tired.

Much of it was along a canal. Japanese schoolgirls biked along, in tartan skirts, and white ankle socks. They all wear uniform here.

After a period walking beside motorways I ducked into a kombini- got a sando; tuna and egg and some chocolate marshmallows.

I was tired.

After half an hour, just as I was about to leave, P walked in.

I’ll be back he said and wanted to get lunch.

So I had to wait again.

Then he insisted on getting my WhatsApp.

I walked on to temple 31 which was through a long tunnel then, after difficulty finding the path, uphill.

He texted me: I’m going to the art museum.

I thought: So what! We aren’t besties

He was clingy.

After temple 31, I got the bus, a pink Mybus, to central kochi city. Bonito hostel, my accommodation, was closed until 4pm.

I walked in search of an internet cafe to finish an article on peat for The National due 1st December.

I had to pay 1,350yen for 3 hours.

There were drinks, food, snooker tables, showers. I was led into a black booth. You can even stay the night.

But I couldn’t work the computer.

It was all in Japanese.

I asked for help.

I called Sienna, we spoke, but I was asked to keep my voice down.

They are selling their flat upstairs. They may not be able to give me the freehold. She doesn’t want to be involved with management. I’m worried. Back to square one with the house- dealing with terrible neighbours. Not having control.

They are sleeping in my flat because of Ophelia so she can sleep in another room. They only have a tiny 1 bedroom flat.

I said they could put the heating on. I haven’t since Ukraine was invaded due to the cost. Octopus want to put my monthly payments up to £280 a month which I cannot afford.

The little booth stank of teenage male sweat. They also watch porn here.

Then wearily I went to Bonito guesthouse.

P had texted me saying it was very nice.

He’s in a room, I’m in a dorm.

A female dorm.

The other women are Taiwanese. A nice older woman and 2 younger ones. I complimented one on her outfit. I’m craving clothes.

I desperately want to meet a westerner.

Then P texted saying want to go eat. I said I’m too tired and I was.

I spoke to Caroline in London. She was sat in her garden even though it was freezing. She cheers me up.

The Taiwanese woman who is doing some of the pilgrimage gave me 3 satsumas.

I went to bed aching badly. 24kms today.

I took pain killers.

Woke up at 4.30 am.

Day 19:

Going to do temples 32 to at least 34 today. Then coming back to Bonito guesthouse.

Achievement unlocked.

Did about 18km but it was hard at the end due to a harsh strong wind that almost knocked me over.

At one point I passed a kind of junk yard with about 10 people squatting including a couple of kids. They had matted or unkempt hair and darker skin. They looked like they were having a laugh. Are these some kind of Japanese underclass? Untouchables?

At temple 34. I realised I’d have to walk another 5km to the bus stop back to Bonito.

I stuck my thumb out and an old farmer stopped in his tiny truck. Hooray.

I showed him where I wanted to go and he took me to the bus stop. Then I waited 25 minutes for the bus. I was so tired I fell asleep on the bus and almost missed my stop. Sun and wind.

Tomorrow I will get the bus to temple 35 then walk to 36 then get bus back again.

Kochi city is very modern. Large.

Lots of restaurants and a large shopping centre near the station.

I’d love to buy some clothes. I’ve been wearing the same outfit for almost 3 weeks now. I wash my knickers every night and wash the clothes once a week.

Today wore my nightdress and leggings just to feel like I was wearing something different.

In today’s walk I had to get the ferry part of the way.

I know there will be a few ferries as I make my way to the rest of the temples in the Kochi region.

Tomorrow or Sunday I’ll be meeting a university student doing a thesis to talk about the pilgrimage.

I feel better in a city.

Sunday I’ll take the day off to do the Sunday market.

I’ll leave Monday morning for temple 38.

I’m now freely getting buses and trains. As long as I do around 20km a day I feel like I’m going my bit. Walking between and up to temples.

Otherwise I’ll be here forever.

Still got a month to go.

Going to an izakaya pub now. Might have a drink.

P said we were going with 2 Japanese women. They turned out to be the two Taiwanese girls in my dorm. Taiwanese people look very different to Japanese people.

One was very pretty. They both looked like teenage girls but were 24 and 32.

As soon as we arrived at the restaurant she tried to take control, there was a lot of eyelash fluttering at P, and weirdness about dishes.

There was nothing for me to eat. Everything was meat or fish.

I managed to extract some Agadashi tofu and some tempura burdock from the waitress.

P was being weird about the sake so I ordered my own pot.

The pretty one kept directing all of her conversation at him, not including me.

P acted like an expert on the pilgrimage, which he isn’t. He’s not even doing it properly, giving up if it was raining.

Finally I said why are you only talking to him?

She said because you are arrogant.

Ok.

You were surprised I spoke English.

Huh? I was happy you spoke English.

You said Taiwan is like old China.

I asked if it was.

I got up and left. I paid 2,200 for my share. A bad deal.

I think she’s a goldigger and she had stupid desperate foolish P in her target.

I texted P you can have my sake, I’ve paid for it.

I always had bad vibes about him. I blocked him on WhatsApp.

Never distrust your instincts. He loved that these young girls were playing up to him.

Unfortunately I now have to share a room with them.

Day 20:

I woke early.

I went downstairs to have a shower and he was there. I didn’t speak to him and locked myself in the shower.

When I came out I heard him leaving.

I walked quickly to the train station.

I’m so worried now I’ll keep coming up against him.

This trip is hard enough.

I waited on the wrong platform and missed the only train.

They gave me my money back. I’ll have find another route.

I can’t stop crying.

Google maps seemed to denote a tram? I kept asking drivers but they couldn’t explain. Nor could the rare passerby.

I couldn’t stop crying.

Eventually a tram driver explained I had to get a bus: ‘busoo’

And pointed to the stop.

I didn’t realise the sign was a bus stop.

Living in an alien land. Can’t read the signs, can’t recognise if it is a sign.

Now I’m on the bus. I’ll be an hour late to the temple and have added kms of walking.

I hope I don’t see him on the road.

The walk from 35 to 36 was mostly on roads with the sun beating down.

I tried to get money out but once again it didn’t work.

I lost my stick at a Lawson and was too tired to return. Today just keeps getting worse.

After a very long tunnel I got to the coast. Then a very long red bridge, maybe 2 kms long, swooping over the bay. The wind was strong and cold.

I’ve been getting snacks at Lawson and am sick of hash browns, egg sando, coffee.

Sick of Japanese food too.

Feel that I’m not eating well. Bought some nuts. Some tiny satsumas outside a house.

After the long beaches I got to temple 36.

I could see that I’d have a 2 hour wait for a bus back. By now I was cold and staggering.

I asked the stamp lady for a piece of paper and stuck my thumb out on the road. A van with a mum and son stopped immediately. They spoke some English.

We can drop you at another bus stop. I was so grateful. They took me, brilliant timing, to where a minibus had just stopped. You will have to change.

That’s fine. I was happy to sit in the warm for a few minutes.

Now I’m on another bus back to Kochi city. An old lady who spoke good English helped me. She lived in the US for a while. She’s done the henro many times.

What is your favourite temple? I asked.

She couldn’t say. They are all different.

I think they are all the same.

I’ll need to sort out this money situation.

I’m spending too much. I don’t have the meals in future because I don’t eat them.

I’ve been tearful all day. Brie on Instagram said I was having a classic culture shock reaction. Weeks 3 to 12 are the worst, she said.

Dreading going back to the dorm with the awful Taiwanese girl. I think she was looking for a sugar daddy and I was in the way,

Monday I guess I’ll carry on- taking transport to 37. I don’t ever want to come across that guy again.

There is no one doing the henro. No one except Japanese.

And they are on their own private journey.

Day 21:

Another horrible day.

Woke early to go to the Sunday market. Went to a cash machine and it didn’t work. Tried another and ditto so barclaycard lied when they said it would take 2 hours to clear. I spent £150 on the phone to them.

So I had no cash for the market.

They were selling strange vegetables often beautifully wrapped, for instance aubergines carefully lined up in a wooden box, long red not orange carrots in cellophane, strange mountain citrus, bunches of shiny leaves I did not recognise. But my enjoyment and curiosity were dulled by stress and worry.

It was freezing cold.

I forgot my gloves.

At the taco stall, I stood trying to get an app to pay for a taco. The couple running it spoke English. Then a young hip looking local paid for my taco- so kind!

It was filled with sweet potato but was not very spicy and lacked salt.

The sweet potato fritters had a massive queue, they looked really good. But I didn’t have cash.

Depressed I went back to the hostel and slept. The horrible Taiwanese girl was still below me.

When I woke she was gone. Thank god.

I went downstairs and the man that runs the hostel asked me how I was. You look so exhausted.

I’m shit to be honest.

He sat down with me and helped me work out my route. But none of the hostels had room. Many are not open during the week.

I had to hurry because I was meeting an academic who is going a thesis on the henro. It was a half hour walk to the coffee shop she designated.

She was tiny and young.

I poured out all my thoughts. I apologised for being so negative. You’ve got me on a bad weekend. Things have been going wrong.

I criticised the route planner saying it was obvious it was written by a man, by Japanese for Japanese even though it was in English. I cited the right to left direction. The barely discernible map inserts.

There was an English speaking consultant for the book, we looked at the credits, but he was a respected professor at a Japanese university

I said I’m sick of the scolding by buddha bros. It’s all you must respect this and behave this way. But what about us? It’s not made easy for us.

Most of the accommodation only has phones- I can’t speak Japanese. How can I book? How can I cancel?

These writers appear only concerned with Japanese- no concern for the poor tourist who has spent a great deal of money and is investing in the local economy.

The accommodation is the worst problem- no emails, no WhatsApp, which would make it easier.

The roads are awful- 80 % of the route is on tarmac which is so hard on the legs.

The lack of signposting is dangerous.

The lack of vegetarian options.

And while I like Japanese food- having it 3 times a day for weeks is exhausting.

This girl did part of her degree in the Czech Republic said I totally understand what you mean, I got sick of Czech food 3 times a day.

That’s understandable I said because Czech food isn’t very good. She nodded.

She told me she interviewed some monks at the temples and they were very concerned about the women walking on their own.

I told her about the creepy American. I said I think Japanese men are mostly safe. She said they aren’t, there have been some incidents.

I said it’s ironic that this whole thing is set up by and for men because it’s older women providing the accommodation, the structure.

I then tried to order some food and of course there wasn’t anything I could eat, every single possible vegetarian dish had the addition of meat. So this ancafem got to see in real time how there was nothing on the menu for me to eat. I ended up with an egg sandwich which is basically what I’m living on. I talked about how disappointed I was that a Buddhist pilgrimage had no vegetarian food.

I said their food culture was schizophrenic- either spartan Japanese food or American style junk.

During my walks I’d been thinking about how Japan is the only country that has been deliberately attacked with nuclear weapons. What that must have done to the Japanese psyche.

We talk about the generational harm of slavery, but what about the generational harm of having two populous major cities flattened, destroyed.

A proud rigid culture humiliated.

Is that why Japan is so Americanised? It’s a pity that this was the Americans that did it because if you are going to adopt western culture, American culture isn’t always the best.

In Europe we have our own ancient culture.

Americans are like the toddlers of the west: enthusiastic, energetic, full of ideas and creativity but sometimes unwise and inexperienced.

Have the Japanese kowtowed to American culture because of their defeat? She didn’t like that.

I said I’m not saying I’m right, it’s just the thoughts that are bubbling up while I’m walking.

The obsession with convenience, the instant food from kombinis, the easy way of doing the pilgrimage via tour bus.

We then tried to work out my route and she could see how difficult it was to use the map book. How the temples were not in Google maps.

She explained that ‘ji’ means temple. But if I’m asking where a temple is I should say ‘terra’.

My mum called during the interview and I cried.

I guess this girl could see that I’m a wreck.

What advice would you give to someone doing the pilgrimage?

Learn Japanese. Bring Mastercard not visa.

I walked back to the hostel then decided to buy something to wear. I’m sick of wearing the same clothes. I bought a very lightweight dress. To change into in the evenings. I will probably have to buy another sweater as it’s so cold at night. Extreme temperatures.

Then craving, just craving cheese- who knew I was so cheese dependent? - I went to an Irish pub. I downed 1.5 pints of Guinness, the tiniest cheese board ever, literally 5 slivers of cheese, each the size of a fingernail, I actually laughed when it was served. Still hungry I ordered some fish n chips, which came in a basket, the fish was goujons, and a bottle of Sarsons malt vinegar! I almost cheered.

I’m eating quite a lot. All the walking and the cold.

Then Sienna called me. Ophelia said ‘danma’ a million times , showing me her adorable tiny white teeth, like seed pearls, she looks like a little fairy. Sienna is now sick of Bluey.

Back at the hostel the nice receptionist at Bonito guesthouse had worked out my route for tomorrow. I must give them a good review.

A description of my sleeping booth. I have an upper bunk which has a curtain for privacy. Each booth has a light and a tiny fan- I find these places too hot and dry so this is essential. There is also a plug for charging, a tiny shelf, a box of tissues hanging up. It’s a mini bedroom, a little sleeping world. The Japanese are experts at privacy in a shared space- they live in paper and wood houses with multi purpose rooms.

Day 22:

Card still not working to withdraw cash. Tried to speed things up by paying £1,500 from my Barclays account which then promptly disappeared into the ether.

Got up a bit later- 6.30 am- and saw that darling receptionist had left a paper for me with details of ATMs in Kochi. So kind. He’d seen me crying yesterday.

I got to the kochi station ticket office at precisely 7.40 and bought train tickets to Nakamura on my card.

I bought a coffee, a yoghurt (dairy!) and some biscuits at Lawson. I don’t think I could face another egg sandwich.

I’m basically living off them.

Where is the cheese? Why don’t Japanese like cheese? The 30% are lactose intolerant is a bit of a myth. Milk has more lactose than cheese and they drink that. There are no cows, goats or sheep. No animals.

Where are the artisanal cheese makers in Japan?

There must be some.

The train is comfortable. The ticket inspector and driver look so young- like pretty and delicate adolescent boys. I imagine they are in their 20s though.

Two Tier pilgrimage- on the train it’s all so easy. Effortless. This is not pilgrimage.

But I need to save a couple more days and I don’t have cash so I’m having to make short cuts. Do I deserve the walking certificate?

As I sped through the countryside I thought they’ve made this impossible. They don’t like you to camp but there’s no accommodation at regular intervals.

The only way you can do this properly is:

Have lots of money and time.

Be an athlete and be able to walk 30 to 40 kms a day.

Speak Japanese.

Be a meat eater.

Be a man.

Even then it’s virtually impossible unless you camp which the Japanese don’t like.

Temple 37 is a 10 minute walk from the station. I didn’t realise but they have one of the 8 ‘shukubo’- temple accommodation out of the 88 temples. You used to be able to stay at all of them. So I could have stayed here.

One of the suggestions I made yesterday which would also enable the temples to increase their income is to have more food and drink and sleeping areas at the temples. Frankly that’s what I expected here. I’ve not managed to stay in one yet, they are always booked up and mostly by tour groups.

I said that walkers should have priority.

I saw lots of abandoned sticks at the 37th temple. I asked if I could take one because I’d lost mine at a Lawson. No you can buy one she said.

No. I shook my head. I can’t.

I did think then- god is this all about the money? You have to pay 500 yen at each temple for the stamp.

I bought an eyeliner pencil to feel less ugly. A packet of burdock seeds and some pain relief patches for my knees for tonight. By card.

Now back at the train station waiting for the next train.

Today a yoghurt and some biscuits. Chocolate macadamias

1 satsuma

Day 23:

I managed to get out 50k yen. So I continue.

A good breakfast at the business hotel. I cannot eat the seared bonito though. It tastes too metallic, too bloody.

I start late, having woken up at 7 am.

It’s important to start early, before dawn, because the sun starts to beat down at around 10 Am and that’s when it becomes really hard. So today I start 2 and a half hours later.

After 10 I’m tired. After 15km very tired. But I can now do 20km. Tomorrow will be 27km. Can I do that?

It felt bad getting the bus to the cape and temple 38 yesterday. I felt like I’d let myself down. In fact sitting on a bus for hours, 2 hours there and 2 hours back, felt almost as exhausting as walking.

I also felt like I’d missed one of the prettiest walking routes of the pilgrimage.

Today  been thinking about vegetarianism and the reaction of the Buddha bros on Facebook. Their scorn. So I should lower my highest standards to fit their idea of Buddhism?

I also thought about that old man P. Now I’ve calmed down, I think he was silly, vain and old. Men of my age are like that. A lifetime of thinking they are the smartest in the room leads them to dismiss women of their own age. We are also experienced and learned. Often more. That why I wouldn’t date a guy of my own age. Every time I’ve dated them they talk down to me- boasting and crowing and showing off. So unattractive. So off-putting. Being polite to them makes me furious. Why the hell should I kowtow? I’ve done it all by myself- parenting, buying a house, career. I owe them nothing. The only man who has ever helped me is my father.

I too am travelled. I too have achieved.

And the young vicious Taiwanese girl? As the saying goes: ‘There’s a special place in hell for women that don’t support other women.’

Today was mostly motorway walking- the shortest route- as I am off the henro path. It wasn’t too bad as it wasn’t that busy- a quite deserted motorway, but no shade.

My temples are the Lawson kombinis.

Tonight’s minshuku- I’ve only booked a bed- no food. I hope I can buy some food on the way. I need to save some money as I’m spending too much. It’s cheaper to eat kombini food for a few hundred yen rather than the thousands they charge for food I mostly cannot eat.

Arrived at minshuku. Regretting no food but it smells of cats.

The old man smells of booze. I’m glad I have a little latch on the screen door. It means if he does come into my room I’ll hear him and can attack back. I’m the only person staying here.

I wonder if he’s a widow or divorced? I don’t get the feeling there is a wife.

I guess this is a little extra income for him and some company. He’s 70. He asks me how old I was: I got out my Shikokan phrase:

‘Toshi desua ‘which I think means I’m an old bag.

He laughed anyway.

He asked me if I was hungry. Yes I am but the problem is I’m a vegetarian. He then gets out a packet of ramen. I google translate the ingredients. It’s got meat in it.

I say just a bowl of rice.

With egg?

No just rice and soy sauce.

We go into the living dining room where v there are low tables and cushions and a large TV blasting adverts.

He opens a rice cooker and digs out a bowl. I hear him go to the kitchen to microwave it. He comes back with hot rice, a dish of soft tofu, a small dish of cold  beans, a small dish of  pickled garlic. I eat the  rice  and tofu.

After I go upstairs. I pay him 4000 yen for the bed. He doesn’t charge for food.

I’m leaving early in the morning as I have a long walk.

Good luck he says in English. He’s ok.

I lay out my bed. Even with double futons it’s pretty hard on the hips. As shakira sang: the hips don’t lie.

It’s cold. But l hate those hot air heaters.

I’m going to bed later now and waking up later. The jet lag is gone.

My routine:

Get up before dawn. Walk fast till 10 am.

Walk slow till I arrive at lodgings.

Have immediate shower, sometimes a bath. Wash out my knickers: do the towel trick: roll them up tightly in a towel then leave to dry.

Have something to eat, sometimes a beer.

Roll out bedding. In bed by 6pm.

Wake at midnight. Do wordle-send it to my friend Bev. Have second sleep till 6am.

What I eat:

Sweet coffee from hot drink machines on the road.

If I have a Japanese breakfast- the fruit, the yogurt , a little rice. Take the egg with me.

Kombini food: onigiri which are rice triangles in seaweed. Often with a pickled umeboshi plum in the centre. Or an egg sando.

Buy a banana or satsuma.

Sometimes a few chewy sweets.

If I see a kombini convenience store, I’ll get a proper coffee.

Dinner: often Japanese. Rice, miso soup, a little salad. Sometimes a hotpot- vegetables and tofu stewed in hot water. Everything under seasoned. Very plain food.

Day 24:

Green coloured trails on the Henro Helper app are the best. They are precious: easy and pleasant in nature rather than on a road. At the moment I’m crunching through the autumn leaves, smelling the forest with the sunlight shafting through. Rustling through moss and ferns, listening to the birds- this feels good. I wish there was more of this.

Sprigs of Japanese pine, brown and green, littering the forest floor

Forest groves of pomelo- thick skinned citrus like bowling balls. Acid yellow flowers.

Mysterious sounds and hog traps. Ledges falling to nothing. The sense that if I fell I may not be found.

But civilisation is never far. Japan is a crowded country. Rust orange butterflies

On the upward climb encouraging notices from local schoolchildren in English: keep going!

Was too tired, after going 27km much of it uphill, to write up yesterday.

I staggered to the ryokan which was much nicer than last nights. Warm and a bit more comfortable futon.

I had a shower and bath which felt like heaven. I didn’t even care if someone else had been in the bath before me. I’m adapting? Or is it just exhaustion

There was no food and both nearby restaurant were closed. Fortunately I’d stopped at a supermarket and bought a ‘doria’ which turns out to be macaroni cheese but with  rice. The cheese was béchamel- no cheese.

I wash my clothes.

A woman called Gail has posted that she’s finished her henro, by herself and walking. She’s 60.

I can see from a bit of stalking she’s done other big walks.

I message her but she’s isn’t very forthcoming. She says she booked all 55 accommodations before coming which suggests she knows how fast she can walk. I wonder how this was possible. I see on other posts that she has used agencies to book other walks. I reckon that’s what she did this time but won’t admit it. But still what an impressive thing  to do. I can’t compete.

I go to bed at half five. I’m that  tired.

I sent an email to the only vegetarian guesthouse in Shikoku near temple 43 but they are closed for the winter now. They give me the details of another guesthouse that can do vegetarian food.

Today I must do 20km, I think some of  it uphill. I’ll get a bus near to temple 41 which saves me 30km or so.

I’m not doing it like Gail because I miscalculated the time I have here. Also in want to see other things.

I find Shikoku shabby and poor. A bit depressing. Not beautiful. Something I didn’t expect in  Japan. A lot of it is like walking the outskirts of Birmingham.

Day 25

On the bus with sleeping workers on the commute. A pleasant woodland walk between temples 41 and 42 passing through various Buddhist graveyards.

42 to 43 I literally had to climb a ladder in some parts. I kept getting lost cos the gps didn’t work.

Often the last couple of kms is the worst going up to the last temple of the day.

I was feeling quite depressed and like giving up. After temple 43 I walked down a cute high street in Seiyo.

I passed a cafe called cafe sound. It had a live wood counter, wooden shelves with blue ceramics, a huge double bass, a various Japanese men in jeans looking like cowboys. This lovely velvet sound emanated from a giant speaker. The lady behind the counter, beautiful with porcelain skin and a big smile beckoned me in saying you are a pilgrim, you don’t have to pay.

She gave me a drip coffee and a tuile biscuit. Her husband, ‘he built that speaker’ she said proudly, gave me 3 satsumas.

He had audio magazines called analogue, and vinyl LPs of Nat king Cole.

Everyone was sitting around on a Thursday afternoon vibing, drinking coffee, eating thick slices of toast and listening to music . Now this is a Japan I could get on board with. It felt warm, stylish, welcoming.

There was also an Italian restaurant over the road.

I had to leave and walk another 4 kms to meet my host of the evening.

A scruffy pretty young man in a dirty red anorak welcomed me. I got in the back of his van, which smelt like dogs.

He’s got a smallholding.

I’m going to drop you off then go pick vegetables for tonight’s hotpot.

Kuba has 3 small farms.

Showed me 3 huge rice grass mammoths which are rebuilt by locals every year.

Then we went to a neighbours where he grows potatoes, Chinese cabbage, broccoli. He pointed out where he grew taro, blueberries, and leeks.

He’s 39, although he looks much younger and was a salaryman with a stable job. Then he went to Cameroon for 2 years as a volunteer and it changed his life. ’I want stimulation! ‘

He shows me his workshop where he taught himself to sew. From YouTube videos. There are piles of neatly folded African fabrics, oilcloth and cotton. He’s made kimonos out of African fabrics. He runs workshops, has a food truck and is setting up a grocery shop in his garage.

He said: Everyone wears black, white,grey here. In Cameroon, they wear colourful clothes.

That’s true, there is no colour in people’s clothes, I agree.

Why is that? Kimonos used to be colourful.

It’s since the second world war, he says.

I ask: Are you sad? Is Japan sad?

Saddo yes. He nods.

He’s broken out of the system. He’s single. Cones from Tokyo. Lived in Shikoku 4 years.

This is the coldest region of Shikoku.

The hotpot was delicious, the mushrooms he grew himself, and as the liquid boiled down, he added cheese and noodles.

The leek fritter was excellent, well seasoned..

Finally bed. It’s very cold but he gives me an electric blanket. This makes all the difference to my poor hips.

Day 26:

Kuba wakes me early for breakfast of thick white toast, margarine (yuck), and homemade blueberry jam made by a neighbour.

There is also a bowl of hot sweet potato puree, a salad with sesame dressing , a freshly boiled egg, yoghurt with jam, and a cup of coffee with cream.

We are rushing for the train to matsuyama at 6.56 so I put the toast in my pocket.

We drive through the rising dawn, pale orange glowing just above the mountains. This is one of the coldest parts of Shikoku he told me last night. The coldest is where I’m going today- temples 44 and 45.

The train station is one of the most beautiful I’ve ever seen. It looks like a traditional Japanese house- made of wood. The waiting room looks like a library, with seats, magazines and books.

Google maps doesn’t have all the transport options. Apple Maps has the route to temple 44. From there train to the bus stop is near and easy. I screenshot the Apple Maps page and show it to a bus conductor.

Next one he says.

Today I only have to walk about 10 km so getting there at 9.30 am is ok.

Kuba made a reservation for me tonight at National lodgings, they have agreed to make me vegetarian food.

Yesterday I walked almost 24km and I barely noticed. I am getting fitter.

Please forgive repetitions and typos. I’m writing all this in my phone.

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