Saturday 5 May 2018

End of the road...for now

The road section out of Niihama is busy and not the most scenic and it is a relief to turn onto quieter suburban roads with beautifully manicured gardens.


A less scenic section...

This lovely resting place cheered us up
The weather forecast is for rain and the humid air feels clammy and a bit oppressive. We are heading towards Shikokuchuo where the route turns inland towards Temple 65, Sankakuji and then Temple 66, Unpenji, the highest temple on the pilgrimage. I am planning the logistics - there are few opportunities to buy food and we also need to decide where to camp.

And then suddenly it is all over.

We stop for a rest and a coffee and Mick pulls out his mobile phone to check for messages. There is a message from his brother back home in the UK. He has been diagnosed with a serious illness. 'I thought you should know but don't cut your trip short,' the message ends.

Mick shows me the message and I read it in silence. Mick says nothing at all, just looks down the road. I cannot read his expression. Of course his brother would like him to come home, despite his protestation. I thought about my sister who was diagnosed with breast cancer just before we left for Japan and who has a course of radiotherapy due to start in a couple of weeks time. She hasn't asked but I know that she too would be glad if I were around.
'Let's go home,' I say at last. 'We're not walking the full route. It doesn't matter.'
Mick looks at me with relief. 'You don't mind?'
'No. Let's just call it a day. We are not meant to be here. Not right now.'

Of course it isn't quite as simple as that. Our flights are booked for the beginning of June. We take a train to Takamatsu and book into a hotel from where we phone the airline, Cathay Pacific, and the travel agency back in England, Trailfinders. Both are extremely helpful and soon our flights are rescheduled for three days time.

We take the train to Osaka via Himeji. As we have a day or two in hand we stop for a night at Himeji and visit the castle. It is Golden Week and Himeji is thronging with tourists but the castle looks spectacular.

Himeji Castle



At Osaka we book into an expensive hotel for the last night as a consolation for ending our trip earlier than planned. The flight connections are not ideal, being booked at such short notice and will require a night at Hong Kong airport before a morning flight to London, so we want to make the most of the final night in Japan. The hotel is superb, we know we have booked the right place when we find they are dispensing free wine and desserts in the lobby. The staff, like everywhere else we have been in Japan, are impeccably dressed and are polite and helpful. I will miss this level of customer service when I get home.

Complimentary earplugs

Five years ago when we brought our bicycles with us, we had not known that the train from Osaka to the airport uncouples part way along the journey, with one half of the train going to Kansai Airport and the other half on down to Wakayama. When we discovered that we were on the wrong half of the train, we jumped off in a panic, dragging bicycles, pannier bags and various souvenirs with us. We had no time to get this lot down the platform and so we watched the train disappear on down to the airport without us while we waited for the next one.

We therefore have no excuse for making this mistake again and yet we do. We are fooled by the fact that most of the passengers are carrying suitcases.
'This must be the correct section', says Mick, plonking wearily into a seat.
After a few stops I am not so sure and express my concern. 'The message on the intercom said the front carriages go to the airport. We are in the last carriage.' Mick dismisses me, waving his hand peremptorily. 'All these people with suitcases are not wrong,' he said, 'or maybe they are all going to Wakayama for their holidays?'
In fact the number of people with suitcases is getting fewer with each stop the train makes. Eventually I march to the end of the carriage and ask the guard whether we are in the right carriage for the airport.
'No, front, front', he says, pointing his white gloved hand to the front of the train.
'I told you so,' I say smugly to Mick.
'Not again,' he mutters, as he grabs his rucksack and we leg it down the platform and leap into the correct carriage. At least we are not dragging bicycles this time. Here I discover that the other passengers with suitcases have not been leaving the train as I thought, but have gradually been moving down to the correct section of the train.

At the airport, to confirm going home is the correct decision, I learn that my nonagenarian aunt is very unwell and in hospital. A couple of hours later, we are on a crowded plane to Hong Kong, where we transfer for our flight to London.

The first time I flew out of Kansai airport at the end of that bicycle trip around Shikoku five years ago, it had been with a massive sense of relief that I was going home. Cycling the pilgrimage had been much harder than I thought and we had left the pilgrimage route at Kochi. At the time I was certain I would never return.

The second time, four years ago, I left with a huge feeling of achievement, having walked the entire route of the 88 Temple pilgrimage, every step, without using a bus or train once. I had loved the walk but it was done now and I could not imagine that I would ever return.

Now, leaving for the third time, I reflect on the difficulties we experienced this time. Problems with my leg and worries about our families have clouded the trip from the outset. Sometimes, things are just not meant to be, and I need to accept this with grace and be grateful for the experience. And one thing I know for certain is that this is not my last visit to Shikoku.

I am already planning when I can return.











Tuesday 24 April 2018

Saijo and Niihama

Friday 20 April

After our efforts yesterday climbing to Yokomineji, today we decide to be content with a 15k amble to Saijo. Along the route today are temples 61-64

Temple 61, Koonji, is unusual - the main building is a huge brown concrete building which looks more attractive than it sounds. Visitors can enter the main hall of the temple via a flight of steps on the side of the building where rows of red velvet seats face the altar. We sit for a while n the front row, resting and admiring the lavish gold decoration of the temple and the golden statue of Buddha.


I am not too sure what is going on at Hojuji, Number 62. In the car park of Temple 61 there is a temporary office for Number 62, where pilgrims can obtain a stamp to show proof of visiting. According to our guidebook this is because Temple 62 does not welcome pilgrims from certain bus companies (many pilgrims visit the temples on specially organised bus tours). Temple 62 is also the only temple that does not belong to the Shikoku pilgrimage temple association. We remember this temple from four years ago; then it was a sorry sight, uncared for and dirty. To refuse to welcome pilgrims does not seem in keeping with the spirit of the Shikoku 88 Pilgrimage and as we have elected not to bring a nokyocho -  pilgrimage stamp book - on this occasion and we are not visiting all the temples anyway, we decide not to visit Hojuji. 

Instead we visit the launderette on the opposite side of the road. The place has window blinds so I quickly remove all my gear and don my over-trousers and rain jacket and chuck everything into the washing machine. In the meantime, Mick goes off to the local convenience store to buy some coffee. He is a little worried on his return, to see a police car with flashing light parked outside the launderette and me in conversation with the police officer. The officer nods and smiles to me and drives off and Mick turns to me. 
'Everything ok? What did the police want?'. 
'Don't know, he emptied a box outside the launderette then came in for a chat.'
'Are you sure he was ok? I thought you were getting arrested.'
Not long afterwards another policeman, this time on a motorbike, parks up and comes into the launderette, wishes us good luck and then disappears again.
'Now what did he want? says Mick perplexed. 'That's two of them. How odd.'
I shrug. 'No idea. But they seem friendly.'



The next temple is only a short walk away so, with our clothes now delightfully fresh, we visit Kichoji and then head on towards 64, Maegamiji. Just before the temple is a huge tori gate which leads to Ishizuchi Shrine. This is the first of four parts to this shrine; two more are located on the mountainside and the final part is on Mt Ishizuchi-san itself. It is a beautiful shrine and worth the additional steps we have to climb to reach it.





I like the wooden tengu, supernatural beings known for their long red noses.







Mick says he can detect a resemblance...




We head into Saijo after visiting Temple 64.







Saijo is an industrial town  - as far as we can tell there is not a huge amount here for the visitor - but it does have good water. Saijo is famous for its spring water which can be obtained around the city at uchinki water fountains and we fill our bottles before heading down to the banks of the Kamo River to camp for the night.

Saijo Water Fountains













As the sun dips below the horizon, a cloud of bats come from the trees to feed and we enjoy watching them swooping and diving for their prey before turning in for the night.

The Median Tectonic Line is Japan's longest fault line and it runs right through the north of Shikoku island. The result is a mountain range which rises abruptly from the flat coastal plain leaving only a thin slice of land between mountain and sea. As we make our way east, we walk along this plain with the mountains rising up on our right hand side. The route is for the most part along quiet residential streets behind the main Route 11. Mick complains I am hogging the map so I allow him to navigate for a brief time but it doesn't last. He soon gets bored of  checking the map and I get exasperated at his lacksadaisical approach and so we agree I will be in charge of the map.


I allow Mick to navigate...we are soon lost
We are now in Niihama, location of the Besshi copper mine. The mine dominated this area for three hundred years until it closed in 1973 and was the primary source of wealth for the Sumitomo family, now one of the largest companies in Japan.

We leave the pilgrimage route to walk up a traffic free cycle path, along the line of the Old Dozan Railway. A left turn at the top brought us to Oyamazumi Shrine and the Besshi Copper Mine Memorial Museum, established by the Sumitomo Group to mark to the closure of the museum. There is no entry fee and the exhibits and photographs offer a fascinating glimpse of life in the mountains behind us when 10,000 people lived and worked the mines here. Afterwards we take a short walk up the valley. Farther on, the industrial remains of the mines are now becoming a tourist attraction.







That night we once again camp alongside a river, this time the river is the Ashitani. The bats are here too although not so plentiful as at the Kamo River, and the sound of water running over the stones in the shallows is therapeutic as we go to sleep.
















































Sunday 22 April 2018

Imabari to Yokomineji

Monday 15 April - The breeze off the sea is welcome  - the temperature is beginning to ramp up now and is in the mid 20s although the nights are still a bit chilly in my summer climate sleeping bag.

We are off the 'official' route and walking along the coastal path. To start with the route passes around a harbour with pleasant gardens but as we head down the coast road the houses disappear and are replaced with a line of derelict hotels, no doubt victims of the fancy new hotels at Yanoura Heights, high on the ridge above us.


We stop to admire this man's beautiful garden





A derelict hotel

The road becomes more overgrown and then turns into a sandy track which is getting ever narrower. Bound by cliffs on one side and the sea on the other, we are just beginning to think - horrors -  that we will have to turn around and retrace our steps when we suddenly find ourselves in a smart campsite with brand new sinks supplied with soap and washing up liquid. Joy! We take the opportunity to wash our smalls in the sinks and hang them in the sun for a while.


Lovely campsite!

We are heading towards Saijo city now; making our way towards the next temple which is inland and up a mountain. We camp in a local park again that evening, and plan to have a quiet day the following day.

A rest day gives us chance to catch up on chores such as  -

Hanging out the washing:




Doing the housework:




And the washing up:




The weather is fantastic for the climb up to Temple 60, Yokomineji. The route heads up a long river valley along a quiet road which eventually terminates at a hut. From here a steep flight of steps are the route on for a 450 metre climb up to the temple which sits near the top of the mountain at 750 metres above sea level.

A few cars are parked here and we talk to one man who tells us he climbs up to the top of this peak every week. He waves to us and sets off briskly up the steps while we labour slowly behind him us carrying our big backpacks.

The path is well maintained and is enjoyable to walk. 















Yokomineji Temple was quiet with only a few pilgrims present when we reached the top. The site is small and serene, and the air refreshingly cool after the heat of the plains below.












At the temple, another pilgrim advises us that the view of Mt.Ishizuchi is particularly good today which spurs us on to climb another 600 metres up the track from the temple to Hoshigamori. The pilgrim was right, the views are breathtaking.










There is a trail down the back of the mountain from here which takes you on to Mt Ishizuchi-san but sadly this will have to wait for another time. 

Instead we follow another trail which leads out the other side of the temple towards Komatsu Oasis. We do not like this trail much. It is narrow and high with vertiginous drops. We are both keenly aware that to topple off here would be an end to the walk and possible an end to everything else as well. Mick, much to my surprise given his vertigo, makes no comment and follows behind me without saying a word. We both know there is no going back now and so we are committed to heading down, come what may.

The route follows what appears to be an old streamway and is uneven and steep. But eventually the path mellows and becomes a pleasant and undulating walk through pine forests. On the lower slopes, bright flashes of azaleas line the route.







At a break in the trees we can see the route we took this morning up through the valley: 




Once down we head straight to Komatsu Onsen and reward our efforts with a long soak in the hot springs in baths with views across Saijo before a tasty meal in the restaurant and a beer.

The final treat of the day is a marvellous sunset as we settle down in our tent for the night. Today has been a good day.