A Japanese Pilgrimage
Mary-Grace Browning shares a thoughtful wishlist topped off by the 88-temple circuit of Shikoku
Ever since I read “Japanese Pilgrimage” by Oliver Statler (Pan Books Ltd, 1984) I have dreamt of completing the 88-temple circuit on Shikoku, on foot like a henro, as he did. Given that the normal visa is for 90 days, assuming flying into and out of Kansai Airport, it can be done at the traditional rate of a temple per day which allows for breaks when the temples are very close. However, I know my Japanese friends would be upset if I spent that long in Japan and did not visit any of them so I am assuming I would have to forego the rest days and complete the course in two months rather than three. I also wonder whom I would choose for a companion: I have walking buddies in both Japan and UK some of whom, being ancients like me, might be able to spare that length of time for the enterprise.
How would two geriatrics fare? From my experience of Japanese hospitality to date, probably extraordinary well. Having visited Japan 70 times, usually with a gaggle of unruly teenagers in tow, I have been overwhelmed by the support I have received in so many potentially tricky situations: the passport inadvertently flushed down a toilet, the youngster who sleep-walked off a train at 1a.m.; the precious prescription glasses that fell from a bridge into ravine. These are the more extreme examples of things I needed help with; in more normal situations the ‘Can I help you?’ of complete strangers when you stand in front of a ticket machine; the shop owner who sends a member of staff to guide you through a neighbourhood when you ask for directions; the rural bus driver who waits when he sees you running up the road.
Were there to be some medical crisis, I have complete faith in the Japanese health system. From a quinsy, through firework burns, heart failure, a smashed knee, a badly lashed thumb, and septic mosquito bites to homesickness, clinics and hospitals in big towns and remote rural areas have coped amazingly well – negotiating language barriers to provide treatments which professionals back in the UK have praised, in many instances requesting more details. Luckily, the UK is good at financial services and so with the right insurance in place I had peace of mind that any emergency could be paid for.
The other question to be answered is ‘What time of year to go?’: cue classic discussion of favourite seasons. I have managed extended stays in Kyoto in August but it would not be my choice to go in summer. Walking in winter might challenge the ability to pack light given the advisability of spare warm clothes. So, it’s the age-old toss up between spring and autumn: on balance I think I would vote with Prince Genji and choose (early) autumn.
What do other members of this Corner think? I am sure many of you have done this and other famous routes in Japan. My toughest Japanese walks to date have been in Hokkaido, starting from the Youth Hostel in Asahikawa. Each evening the hostel warden gave talks for visitors on the local day hikes: he warned of areas where the path might be compromised and emphasised the need to wear bear bells at all times. As we set off after an early hearty breakfast, he provided each walker with a bamboo wrapped onigiri pack: nothing is more delicious as a lunch time snack while bathing the feet in the hot spring pools beside the path.
Each memory prompts thoughts of things yet to do... so many things to do and so little time to do them. COVID has put the whole bucket list process back by three years and watching travelogues on the TV has lengthened the list by several hundred ‘things yet to do’. The 88 temples on Shikoku remains at the top of the list however and I now need to use all those Avios that I’ve saved to do something about it.