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I had a damn good sleep last night, and I needed it too, because I had a bit of ground to cover today. Temple 27 was the only temple for today, but I still had roughly 30km of walking.
Temple 27 was perched high up on one of the mountains overlooking the coast. The path up was the same as the path down - nearly 4km of backtracking was going to be involved today, and I wasn't too keen on carrying my pack if it could be avoided. Luckily Misono gave me a hand-drawn map to an old lady's house the night before; somewhere I could leave my pack and collect it later.
Temple 27 was perched high up on one of the mountains overlooking the coast. The path up was the same as the path down - nearly 4km of backtracking was going to be involved today, and I wasn't too keen on carrying my pack if it could be avoided. Luckily Misono gave me a hand-drawn map to an old lady's house the night before; somewhere I could leave my pack and collect it later.
I said goodbye to Misono the night before, knowing that I'd be on the road due to my body-clock waking me up before dawn, and the emotionally and physically draining rushing mentality, that I was having a problem shaking off me. I was having problems planning where I was to stay tonight, but Misono told me to stay in a hut that was operated by a man named Hagimori. I had heard from other pilgrims that Hagimori was well known among Japanese henros, and that he is credited for creating the list of free lodging along the Shikoku Pilgrimage. After a phone call to the man himself, Misono gave me strict instructions: When I arrive at Nishibun Station, call his number, and simply say "Nishibun Station". Hagimori would do the rest. Easy.
Oh surprise surprise, it's Route 55. Again.
I snuck out of the house ninja-style, making sure not to wake a soul. It was still dark when I arrived at the konbini which was only a kilometre away. It was raining too, and I had to seek shelter from the roadhouse next door so I can repack my bag and put the protective cover over it. While waiting for the rain to ease up a little and sipping my coffee, a little yellow car pulled right up in front of me. It was Misono! She ran over too me, gave me a proper hug goodbye, and handed me over a hot rice ball as Osettai. She was so lovely, and she stood there waving goodbye as I walked off into the rain, heading towards Temple 27.
Mountain climb target for today.
Caretaker of my pack.
Sleepy Japanese streets are everywhere.
I left Tano Town and walked West along Route 55, following the coastline once more. The rain was coming and going this morning, and if it wasn't for the humidity, I might have found it a refreshing change. The map that Misono had given me was surprisingly accurate for something drawn by hand. According to my map, I had to cross a bridge over a river, and then a few blocks after that I would come across a bright yellow house on my right. It was close to this yellow house that I'd find the home of the old lady who would be babysitting my gear for a few hours. Once I arrived, I found her in a back shed, working away. She greeted me and beckoned me to the back of her house, where I laid my gear to rest on her rear porch. It wasn't long after that I was making my way towards Tonohama Station to buy some Pocari Sweat from a vending machine, and then up the road towards my next temple.
Surprisingly, the road up to Temple 27 was quite easy, and actually enjoyable. The road slowly inclined and gently made it's way along the mountains, with the views were quite nice considering the poor weather. The last kilometre or so got very tricky, and it wasn't long until I was completely saturated from both rain and perspiration. The trail veered off the road, and turned into a very steep, slippery muddy climb along dirt tracks. I must have been the first on the trail (yet again), because I had to also contend with newly formed spiderwebs too. The track would frequently intersect with the original road that I took, so in the end I decided to just stick to that road, considering it would be quicker, safer, and easier.
Prayer flags on the path to T27. The only ones I saw for the entire pilgrimage.
Kōnomineji (神峰寺)
Kōbō-Daishi
That's one fine garden.
Now THAT'S a statue.
Temple 27, Kōnomineji (神峰寺), sits at 424 metres above sea level, with some pretty epic views of the Pacific Ocean. Once I had made my way through the carpark, and one extra little climb later, I was greeted by the temple office sitting out the front of the most beautiful temple garden I had ever seen. I instantly fell in love with Kōnomineji, and the peacefulness that seemed to resonate from here. To the right of the garden were the stairs up to the main and daishi halls of the compound. I followed the red staircase up to the top, lit one candle and three sticks of incense at each hall, gave my donations and name slips, and then sat in awe. I took a ton of photos too, knowing that this would be a temple well worth remembering. Temple 27 became one my favourite temples along the pilgrimage.
Liquid gold.
After making my way back down to the temple office, I sat down under a nice sheltered area for a little chill time and something to eat. For some strange reason, I never got bored of my ham, cheese and salad sandwiches. I certainly didn't get bored of Starbucks Espressos, considering them a reward after a tricky climb, or even to lift my mood after a crappy day. I had no issue parting with 300 yen for these babies, although I got pretty fond of the Family Mart branded ones too, which were cheaper and almost double in size.
The reason that T27 is one of my favourites of all of the 88.
Before I departed, I went and sat by the garden for a little. It was absolutely beautiful, and it was quite obvious that this was a well cared-for garden, with all the hedging in perfect form, and not a stray leaf in sight. The fish were tame and clearly after food, as they would follow me as I'd make my way around the pond.
Such a poser.
It took me half the time to get down the mountain that it did to climb it. This time I stuck to the road too; I had enough slips on the way up along the dirt track to convince me that this was the right decision. Back towards Tonohama Station, I nearly walked on top of a mamushi snake. I was thankful that no one was around to hear me swear, carry on, and have a borderline panic attack, and as it made it's way into the long grass, I hastened my pace and it wasn't long until I had collected my bag, left a name slip as thanks for the sweet old lady and made it back along the coast.
Today was turning out to be yet another humid and sweaty day, and the rain wasn't easing up either. I was feeling better than yesterday, but still a little fatigued. I had bought some IN ENERGY jelly shots earlier today, and was hoping that one of them would give me the hit that I needed. Plus I love the grape taste.
CAFFEINE AND OTHER GOODNESS.
There was quite a lot of traffic today, probably the most I had seen on Route 55 yet. It wasn't too long until I had finally hit the outskirts of Aki City. I stoped at Oyama michi no eki (roadside rest area in Japanese) for lunch, kicked my shoes off in a futile attempt to air my feet and dry my socks, and sat back for about an hour. The view of the coast again failed to disappoint, and I was certain that I could see my destination for the night off in the distance.
My destination for tonight is waaaayyyyy over the other side of that bay.
Tosa Bay
Not pictured - the hundreds of bloody spiders and webs covering this path.
By mid afternoon, my path had left the footpath along Route 55, and began to follow a bike track adjacent to the main road. I lost count of how many times I had to duck and weave under hundred of spider webs and their occupants, with low hanging tree branches covering the path for most of the way. I was thankful for this though, as it gave the occasional shelter from the rain.
Cloudy but pretty.
The final few kilometres involved a walk filled with contrasts. With the low dark clouds sitting gently about the gentle ocean, it was hard to distinguish where the horizon started; everything was so white and looked simply beautiful. The beaches were quiet as usual (apart from surfers, I never saw swimmers in Shikoku!), and this just added to the peacefulness of the place. However, with the bike path following an elevated train line, I found a dumping ground of a ton of trash. There was large piles of rubbish at many spots, and at times it detracted from the beauty of Tosa Bay to my left.
The good...
...and the bad.
Close to my destination of Nishibun Station, I came across a little locked hut underneath the train line. There was a note on the door with a phone number, explaining that the hut was owned by Hagamori and was for men to stay in, and females could stay at his personal residence. I had a look around the hut, thinking that this would be where I was staying for tonight. Happy with what I found, I walked around the corner to Nishibun Station, found shelter in a phone box from the now pouring rain, and made the call to Hagimori-san.
Within only a matter of minutes, I was approached by a small old man on a motorised scooter, wearing what appeared to be an old-school helmet with goggles. It was the infamous Hagamori-san. He gave me the nod and beckoned me to follow him. I pointed towards the hut below, but he shook his head. It's not easy trying to follow an old man driving on a scooter, especially when you are walking, in the rain, with a heavy pack on your back. I had to run at one point, eager to catch up.
Our first point of call was a small grocer for some two-minute ramen. It was also here that I realised that we were going to have a severe communication problem, and my survival Japanese was not going to be any good either. Hagimori could not speak a word of English, so we had to communicate by using really bad sign language involving a lot of pointing, nodding, and shaking of heads.
Our first point of call was a small grocer for some two-minute ramen. It was also here that I realised that we were going to have a severe communication problem, and my survival Japanese was not going to be any good either. Hagimori could not speak a word of English, so we had to communicate by using really bad sign language involving a lot of pointing, nodding, and shaking of heads.
A drizzly Nishibun Railway Station. I don't have a clue what the yellow bobble-head-angel-thing is about.
We left the grocer and ended up at an apartment complex. I followed Hagimori and that's when it hit me - I wasn't staying in the hut, I was staying with the man himself. Guided to a spare room, I was given a quick tour of his tiny abode, and then I was handed an English set of instructions, printed by someone kind enough to have translated his house rules. One of the rules was that if women showered for free, but for the men it was 1000 yen (men who stayed in the huts could walk to Hagamori's home). I was more than happy to pay the man money for a shower, and he was kind enough to wash my dirty clothes for me.
Whilst I was sitting at the table having dinner, Hagimori explained to me that he had to go and pray. He did this by putting on a robe and a sash, and simply saying "monk" while pointing to his room. After dinner I went through my guide book and planned the following day. Hagamori took great interest in my guide book and showed me his Japanese one, and so we sat down together and got to work on something I wasn't exactly sure of yet. With a pen in his hand, he took my book and crossed out tracks, marked the ones to take, crossed out closed huts and lodgings, and circled the ones that he recommended.
The man himself - Hagimori-san. Hard at work, making my walk much easier.
At exactly 7:30pm, Hagimori escorted me to my room, insisting that I sleep. I tried to explain to him that it was too early for me, but nothing workd until I pulled out Google Translate on my phone and said "walk to shops". He nodded his head and then I was off, doing a 4km round trip for some more food and a well deserved chocolate ice cream. I was also in search of a laundromat to dry my recently washed clothes, but unfortunately it wasn't to be.
Returning to my room, I somehow managed to tell Hagimori that I would be leaving early tomorrow and would try my best to not wake him. He left me briefly and then returned with two gifts. One was a small slip, similar to a bookmark, and he simply said "talisman". The second gift was a name slip, but a truly special one. Using the translator, Hagimori explained that it was a name slip for completing the pilgrimage more than a hundred times. It was red with gold trim, and I couldn't thank him enough as I placed it carefully into my guide book.
I hung my wet clothing up in the bedroom to dry on coat hangers, but with the sticky, muggy air and the rain outside, I knew I'd be packing wet clothes tomorrow. I probably shouldn't have had that ice cream, the sugar hit was gonna keep me awake for some time.
Hagimori’s lodgings list was still only in Japanese when I slept at his house the first time in 2014. He did the same for me: going through my guide book and pointed where to stay!
Later Jasbir Sandhu was so kind to translate his list for us gaijin henrosan.(http://walkingmylife.weebly.com/lodgings.html )
Pro tip - konbini coffee is the best!