WHEN WALKING

Shikoku 88 Temples – Day 7

Seapa Onsen to Senyu-Ji Temple (temples 54 & 55): 23km walking + 12km public transport

The decision to put Japan first comes into proper effect today. I look at the route. I notice a long section of the path, runs parallel to the main road and train. At one point it goes through a road tunnel will take the train part of the way.

I look at the route. I notice a large path with a road which runs parallel to the train. The first section, which is in [unclear], goes through the hills. I will walk briskly. So, by coincidence, it begins from here. I will take the train part of the way.

The walk over the hill is a beautiful start, with views down to the sea below, wooden houses and fat cats. The only thing I allow myself to stop for.

Already twice this morning I’ve seen smiley police officers with flags, waving me past the tiniest of obstructions on the least busy of roads. There’s absolutely no chance I will get struck by a car at these points. I thank them. These flag-waving officers may become one of my favourite sights in the last few days.

When I arrive, an hour and a half later, at the station, it couldn’t be clearer how to get the train. I go through the stops to where the route goes inland again, and admire the same views from the train I did from the path.

It is the same unassuming towns that the train passes through. A huge factory which reminds me of Asturias, where life is squeezed between the mountains. I see a group of elderly people doing what looks like Tai Chi but with hiking poles. This I must look into later.

In side the train, there is an old drunk who snoozing are the bar, students, omen on their way to town. I know how the fares and ticketing work . So clever.

The last bit of walk to Temple 54 is along the long main road, but then it turns into a residential district before the temple itself, nestled under the hills.

As I walk in, I see Don, the YouTuber, sitting and waiting for the rest of his team to arrive. He has an appointment with the priest. This is how he is doing Shikoku: talking to priests, trying to work stuff out.

He asks me if I have anything which I could offer, which chimes very well with my question of the last few days. I say only teaching English, as he had suggested that the monks needed to know how to teach Buddhism precisely and correctly to the tourists.

“Oh,” he says, “I can do that.”

So I smile and leave him to it. He’s lived for 25 years in Japan, teaching at a university, so no doubt he’s the man for that job. It just seems that it might be a bit more than one person can handle.

After visiting the temple, I see a large line of Japanese pensioners has assembled on the bench outside the main office. As I walk past, the man at the end signals for me to come and sit with him at the end of the line.

With the help of Google Translate, I find out they’ve been asked to come here to wait for the Americans. Oh, Don and his crew, I think. They don’t seem to understand the importance of Don’s mission. They just came here because they were asked to.

My new friend asks me where I’m from and what I do for a living. When I tell him I teach English, he says, “But that’s your native language.”

“Yes,” I say. “It’s very easy.”

That gets a laugh.

“Does it pay well, teaching English?” he asks.

“Enough and never enough,” I reply.

This is a very calculated answer and it also goes down well.

As they get called in to go for their important meeting, the lady on the other side of my new friend dashes into the office and comes out with a charm for me. “Osetai,” she says.

As they leave and I leave, it starts to rain. So no photos apart from me and my new friend. Actually, there’s a lot of group photos of me in them because the group insisted I stayed where I was when they were taken. So someone somewhere has proof that I was here.

The rain that starts at Temple 54 gets heavier and heavier. Don had told me there would only be showers today, so I haven’t put on my full waterproofs. By the time I get to the first shelter, my trousers are so soaked there’s no point putting them on now. My bag is covered. That’s the main thing.

I walk into the city and through the city, the rain getting heavier and heavier. And when I finally arrive at Temple 55, the ground is almost flooded. The only other person there is Jesse, a New Zealander. I’ve passed him on the stairs at Temple 54.

We sit in the shelter wondering how to get stuff done. The rain’s so heavy it would be impossible to light a candle, place a paper slip. So I run to the ladies, get changed and wait until the rain relents a little.

As it does, a few more pilgrims arrive and together we complete the visits to the shrines.

After all this chatting and all this waiting for the rain to ease, I realise that despite my head start this morning, there’s absolutely no chance I shall complete all today’s temples. In fact, it’s touch and go that I will even get to my lodgings at Temple 58. Temple 58, which closes promptly at five o’clock.

I have to strategise again and find there is a bus that will take me the first four kilometres, leaving me four and a half kilometres to march full speed up the mountain. I can do it.

I’m glad I saved my legs a little earlier, and I resist photographs of the mist, as the rain eases off, and I miss endless unworthy representationsmountains. Not that they would have come out anyway.

And at five to five, I arrive out of breath, with the rain starting once more, at Temple 58.

It was, of course, worth it.

Temple 58 is perched on a mountain. When I go to my traditional room, there are views across to the other side of the Sea of Japan, down to the city, over the hills. A far, far above it all.

In the dining room I meet the lady from Kochi and two other pilgrims whose names I cannot remember. A quiet man of 80 and a younger man who is clearly a charming clown. If only I could understand the jokes.

Sujiko, because we met two nights ago, takes responsibility for me as the foreigner at the table and does her best to try and include me. It’s not easy for her, but her attempting to do it is enough.

After dinner, having had my private spa yesterday, I decide I shall go and try the natural hot spring onsen in the basement here. Ladies’ hour is seven till eight. And as Sujiko got here earlier than me, I presume she will have gone in the earlier ladies’ hour, from five till six.

And my presumption is correct.

But let it be recorded here. I was not a hundred per cent sure, and I did it.

This feels like the natural next step towards the full onsen experience.

When I return to my room, the rain is pelting down again and the wind howling by up here in my temple room on the mountainside.

I’ll go back and do what I missed tomorrow. Tonight I will be lulled to sleep by the storm.

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