Blog 8.
Bell jingling, poles pounding a beat on the asphalt, shoulders swishing against the rucksack straps, even water sloshing to and fro in a half-full bottle is like a heartbeat, an ultrasound even. These sounds I make walking are all company, of sorts.
It takes me 3 days to trek the 80 km or so from Temple 37 to Temple 38 at the southernmost peninsula of Shikoku, Cape Ashizuri, which might be the furthest apart of any two temples on the route.
The night before visiting T37, I am staying at a small guest house. 2 other pilgrims are already there: a young man of 21 called Jun and an older man I didn‘t get the name of, but who kindly makes my next night‘s accommodation booking on his phone. These guys are sharing the room next to mine, and we are separated only by a sliding „shoji“ door (not lockable). The level of trust, however, is such that I feel absolutely fine. Frankly, I have more concerns about snoring, as you can hear everything through shoji. There are no meals included in the rate, so we sit in the kitchen, each with our own supermarket food, and eat earnestly. They show me their daily kilometre records on their phones: averages of 44 – 51 km, more than double my quota, and the most I have heard of so far.
Goodbye, see you on the way, says young Jun in the morning, but I do not anticipate seeing either of these two „rocket men“ again on the route. They will be light-years ahead.
After the temple, I take a train for about 10 km to get me down the mountain to a flatter terrain, a little „cheat“ to save my knees and catch up a bit, yet still walk my daily 20-odd km down the coast to my seaside accommodation. And I bump into Erna on the train, the other lady I had shared a room with last week! A hug and a few laughs later, I choose to disembark at a railway station called Kaina, a shack in the middle of nowhere, but easy to get to the main road from. From here, I can take it nice and easy, just following the road for the rest of the day.
To some extent you have to plan your food around the „combini“ convenience stores marked on the map, such as Lawson, Seven Eleven and Family Mart, for as well as decent coffee, there is a wide range of snack food that can tide you over a couple of meals if your lodging is room only.
The Lawson I pick for lunch and my pre-dinner shop is a good one in that it has seating outside where I can shelter from the rain and eat in comfort. I am happy.
But continuing down the road only a few minutes, I come across the most amazing place I have seen so far: a luxurious new roadside station called Nabura Tosa Saga, a local format food court shopping and dining experience, with gift shop and Tourist Information as well. Gorgeous!! What a pity I have just eaten. Note to self: look out for roadsigns for these heavenly places, there must have been one I missed. I laugh at my little learning experience.
During the walk with fellow henro Matsu the other day, it was not only he who slowed to my pace, but in fact I had walked faster than my usual pace because of him. A mistake. A few kilometres from our hotel I experienced a strange pain in my lower shin. I do not know what shinsplints are, but this was really stabbing and caused me to stop and gasp a few times. Remembering the YouTube of Ingmar from the Netherlands who had knee problems, a Japanese doctor had told him to walk more slowly. Well, I already am walking slowly – my only two speeds are slow and very slow – so what is this pain? It disappears for a couple of days of walking joy, but returns on this day down the coast, really causing me to stop often. Not only this, but I have been wondering why it‘s taking me so long to get down the coast when I see the scale on this page in my guidebook is different. Normally one square is one km, but on this page a square is two km, go figure! Aagh, it will take me ages to get to my lodging…!
No kidding, less than one km before my „hotel“, I have to stop and sit. The only place in sight is a small seaside grocery store. I see a table and bench through the window! Although I am not buying anything, I help myself to a rest here until the pain subsides. The owner does not seem to care. Who marches in bright and easy, but Jun, a ray of sunshine! He is doing some shopping for his dinner. He must have decided to take it easy today. I cannot tell you what a treat it is to see a familiar face again.
That is the way. People float in and out of your day, making all the difference.
I must share a picture of my room that night. It‘s minimalist, just the tatami floor and one thin futon, but it is spotless. I cannot sleep, again, for there is no way to get comfortable on the floor. At about 9 pm I get up to ask at the front desk whether I can have another futon, but the place is deserted, locked up. I go searching for a linen room, but only find a bath house, with an empty bath – they did not bother filling it for one guest. I return to my lonely room, getting weary of „life on the floor“. With aching legs it‘s hard to get up from sitting, and forget writing on the floor. Without a chair, or at least a table, no blog.
But I can almost jump into the Pacific Ocean from my window. The nearness to the sea, the rhythmic crashing of the waves, more than makes up for everything.
Oyasuminasai, good night!
X
Marion Gibson 