Shikoku gets serious

After a restful afternoon at Hiwasa, the next morning, day 11, we had the long walk ahead - 75 kilometres down the coast to Cape Muroto, the first of Shikoku's two southern 'pointy bits'. We had bumped into Hamish and his friends again in Hiwasa and we gave them a jaunty wave goodbye as we set off down the road. We were feeling sprightly and clean after our visit to the launderette and the onsen (hot bath) the previous day. We didn't know it but we wouldn't look presentable for long...

Hamish, Kenji and Misa at Hiwasa

We detoured off the henro route for the first few kilometres, opting instead for the Minami-awa Sun Line, a scenic road that wound its way through the mountains with magnificent views. The road was quiet and we loved the walk, especially when we spotted a troup of Japanese macaques wandering across the road. But by the time we reached the town of Mugi at the end of the Sun Line and bumped into Hamish and the gang yet again, who had caught up by going down the main road, it had started to rain. I was carrying a heavy Japanese parasol which we had been given, kindly meant but totally impractical to carry for 1200 kilometres. We tried to refuse it but the couple who gave it to us had insisted. Still it came in useful for a while as the rain gear I had brought (a cape which was too short, some cut off waterproof shorts!!?? and knee length waterproof socks) proved utterly useless. Through the afternoon the rain became gradually heavier and we caved in early, setting up camp on the side of the road.

Macaques on the Sun Line

This couple love their mini!

The parasol was a kind gift - but very heavy

Trying to stay dry...

The next morning it was still raining. And then rained some more. Every time I thought it couldn't physically come down any faster, it did, hammering down in sheets. I was drenched from head to toe and Mick wasn't faring much better, though at least his legs were dry in his new Mountain Equipment Goretex Overtrousers. He wasted no time in pointing out that I should have bought a pair too, and I knew he was right. It was so annoying. Eventually I bought a pair of 500 yen plastic trousers and coat in a convenience store which had the effect of keeping my legs out of the rain but soon had them running with sweat instead. We managed ten kilometres in total before giving in and taking refuge in a park shelter until the rain went off. The next morning we were still there.

The rain had finally stopped so I reluctantly put on my soaking wet gear and shoes. I set off a few minutes ahead of Mick and around the corner I met the principal of the local elementary school who insisted on making all the children stop. line up and say hello to me as they trooped into the school gates while I stood there nodding, smiling and saying hello, my clothes steaming gently in the morning sunshine.

This Henro had quite a system going with a
waist harness and carabiners

Couple Rock

But soon we were dry, except for our shoes, and at least we made reasonable progress of around 30 kilometres. By the end of the day we were back to dripping with sweat. Was it always this hot at the beginning of May? We were feeling tired and grubby and decided to knock on the door of a minshuku (a family run guesthouse) but got no reply. Instead we made camp in the grounds of a disused school. At least the outside taps were still supplying running water although there were no toilets so I had to disappear into the woods armed with a stick for digging a hole while keeping a lookout for snakes...

In the night I could hear monkeys making a din in the woods behind the school; I wondered whether they were annoyed at the appearance of the two upright apes, perhaps normally they ventured into the abandoned playground to have a go on the old swings and the climbing frame and maybe a game of baseball with the bats and balls left lying around in the yard.

Camp at the school

I can think of worse places to stop for breakfast...

Pillow lava formed by underwater volcanoes, Muroto Geopark

Superb henro facility at Meitokuji Shrine

Including tea and coffee...

Shrine 

On day 15 we made it down to the end of the cape and climbed up through the woods to Temple 24, Hotsumisakiji. Just as we reached the temple along the woodland path I heard Mick, who was in front, yell out. When I reached him he was pointing frantically to the side of the path. I looked and saw a huge black snake slithering away over the bank, it was a good five foot long. Mick had almost trod on it as it crossed the path in front of him, only seeing it at the very last moment. Ten minutes later in the temple I overheard him telling another pilgrim about it…'and this snake was at least eight foot long…'

Reclining Buddha, Cape Muroto

Young Daishi Statue, Cape Muroto

Delightful path up to Hotsumisakiji….

…until Mick nearly trod on the snake...

Hotsumisakiji, Temple 24

Running Henro

We rounded Cape Muruto and headed up the other side of the coast towards Kōchi; this side seemed much more affluent with pretty houses and gardens lining the roads. But between us and Kochi city was our nemesis, Kōnomineji,Temple 27. This temple had finished us off when we tried to cycle the henro michi last year. It's not as high as some of the temples we had already visited but there was something about the approach to this one, up an interminable road, culminating in a climb for the last kilometres at a gradient of forty-five degrees that we both found almost intolerable. We were not looking forward to it. We decided to tackle it first thing, before it got too hot. We had started, as Mick had suggested, to set the alarm for five and were normally walking by six-thirty. This day the alarm went off at four am. 'Why am I doing this again?' I thought grumpily as I packed away my sleeping bag. By six we were halfway up the road that led through the valley and up the mountain to the temple, even so there were a good number of other pilgrims on the road with us An early start was the thing to do. We puffed our way up to the top, and it was with some relief that we finally found ourselves at the gate to the temple and I put a few extra yen in the collection box as a sign of my gratitude. As we left a young woman ran past on her way in. She had run up the mountain. Shortly afterwards a man pedalled up on his bike and dismounted next to us. It was some time before he was able to speak. 'Steep,' he gasped. I couldn't help but agree.

Fudō Myōō, Temple 27

Mick finds not talking a strain...

At Temple 27 we bumped into Hamish again. I asked where his companions were and he said he had decided to come on ahead. He wanted to walk the pilgrimage alone. I could understand why. This pilgrimage is a solitary one I think. Many pilgrims seem to walk this walk alone, although people gather at huts and rest places for a chat. And I notice that even when people walk in pairs or groups, little conversation takes place. Even Mick has started to go quiet and there is no sound but the tapping of our sticks and the tinkling of the bells we wear to frighten the snakes (not that this seems to work). Sometimes he is quiet for as much as ten minutes at a time, although admittedly this is something of a strain.

Terraced paddy fields

From Cape Muroto to Kōchi the route follows the Pacific coastline. Walking here it is clear how much effort and concrete the Japanese expend on holding back the mountains on one side and the ocean on the other, protecting the habitable sliver of land in between. Harbours are backed by huge sea walls and brand new tsunami escape routes climb up the mountains. It is clearly a constant and expensive battle to try to keep these powerful forces at bay.

Aloe 

Typhoon breakwater

At Aki we decided to try and find the sento (public bath house) as it was now a week since we have had a proper wash. I had learned the Japanese phrase to ask for directions and stopped someone to ask the whereabouts of the sento. Unfortunately I hadn't learned enough Japanese to understand the answer. We wandered around the town for an hour before an old man took pity on us, fetched his bike and led us right to the door. We spent an hour in there and it was wonderful to be clean again, even if we did have to put our dirty clothes back on afterwards.

New signpost on the trail

A useful sign to learn (toilet)

Sunday, Day 18. Our route took us along a cycle path, fifteen kilometres long, and gloriously traffic free. Along the way we stumbled across a Harley Davidson bike meet which Mick loved before ending up at a beach and water resort where the sea was full of kayaks and little sailing dinghies.  It is Golden Week in Japan, a popular holiday period and the michi-no-eki (road station) at the resort was packed. We sat for ages on a bench overlooking the water, enjoying the fresh breeze coming off the Pacific.

Bikers at the Harley Davidson meet

Different sort of bike -
Cycle path between Aki and Yasu

Maybe it is all getting too much...

Akano rest station

My legs were aching and I had shooting pains in my ankles while Mick had developed blisters from walking in wet shoes earlier in the week. We made it to Temple 28 on the edge of Kōchi but it was a struggle. We have walked 200 miles since we set off. We needed a rest.

Mick looked at the map and made a suggestion. 'There's a station less than a kilometre away from here. Why don't we get a train into Kōchi and book two nights in a hotel? We can come back on Tuesday to resume the walk. That's assuming we can book into a hotel in GoldenWeek.' This sounded like an excellent idea. With the rain, the snake incident and the ever increasing mileage, it felt like Shikoku, after a gentle introduction, was yelling us not to take her for granted. We were being reminded that this is no easy walk. Some respite would be welcome before we tackle the next section.

An hour later we were in the lobby of the Green Hotel where after some negotiation the manager gave us a pilgrim price deal for two nights. Tomorrow we will rest and then go in search of some waterproof trousers. I have a feeling I might need them.

Our route so far:

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