The South Shore is basically a surfer shack with an attached restaurant. The workers there were young, handsome and tanned. Quite a departure from the ryokans and minshukus I had been staying at. However, like everywhere else they were polite and accomodating.
While inqiring about my reservation I heard a woman's voice say "Are you James?" in perfect English. I turned around to see a lovely young woman smiling at me. (No doubt enjoying the shocked look on my face.) Her name was Rie and she had spent two years as an exchange student in Kansas City, MO. She showed me to my room, the ofuro and the laundry room. All the while I maintained my silly grin. I didn't think I had missed hearing English that much until I actually heard it.
After settling into my "surfer" flat. I wandered outside to chit-chat with a couple of "surfer dudes". Even though they looked the part, both were polite and soft spoken. I found this to be the case with all young people I encountered during my trip. Even a group of biker punks (for lack of a better term), who tend to raise hell by riding slowly through towns revving their engines, had stopped and talked to me at one point. (Initially, I thought I was going to get my ass kicked.) Anyway, the boys were from Osaka and came down to catch the surf. They said it hasn't been good. I responded with Zan-nen (that's too bad).
Rie then appeared wearing a wetsuit and carrying a surfboard. She said she was going out for her daily ride and would I like to join her. As tempting as the thought of being tumbled around in the surf was to me, I declined. However, I did agree to going along to watch her surf. She said that she's "not very good" and I replied "you wouldn't say that if you saw me surf".
I sat on the rocks writing in my journal while Rie went out to join the 50 or so other surfers. To be honest, I quickly lost track of her. Their descriptions were too similar. Short dark hair, slim and wearing a black wetsuit. Although, there was one guy that was wearing a red wetsuit. What a rebel!
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| Rie Chan ready to hit the surf | Happy to be on the beach watching all this fun |
Rie later told me that she had worked for an airlines in Osaka for 11 years. She came to Shikoku last year, met a guy and they started a long distance romance. She then decided to quit her job and move here about a month ago. She said to me "there's something magic about Shikoku". I told her I was proud of her for not only seeing the magic but acting on it. Her choice took courage. It's not the kind of courage they give medals for, but it's courage none the less. I wished her the best of luck.
The restaurant closed down around 6:30 and the place got real quiet. There was a storm coming so everyone either hunkered down or headed home. I, on the other hand, was a little restless. I walked over to a nearby coffee shop. Two women were there. The Kamisan (hostess) invited me in and asked if I minded if her and her friend watched a DVD while I had my coffee and wrote in my journal. I said not at all and I was just happy to have a warm dry place to sip my coffee. As I sat down I noticed the other woman looked familiar. It was the woman who had lead me to the South Shore earlier. I told her I was embarassed that I had to ask her for directions being so close to the inn. She said that she gets it all the time... even by Japanese henros, no less.
It wasn't long before I was watching the movie with them. It was an American action movie named "Cellular". Typical formula flick, but it was a pleasant diversion. The movie ended by having the hero produce a cell phone that contained an incriminating video clip. Immediately the Kamisan piped up that the cell phone should have been ruined when the hero jumped off the Santa Monica pier with it in his pocket a few scenes ago. Her friend and I started giving her a hard time for ruining the ending for us, laughing all the while.
After leaving the coffee shop, I returned to my room and racked out while the storm outside raged.
Thought for the day
I first stopped at the little shop where I had asked for directions yesterday to pay my respects. The Kamisan was up and about. I bought some snacks for breakfast. She then asked me to wait a moment while she went in the back. Sure enough, 5 minutes later she came out with a bentou box for me. Three onigiri with takuan (radish pickles). Even though I expected this, it's still humbling when a gift is given. I thanked her profusely and took my leave. She shouted "atchi" (that way) and pointed the direction I needed to go in. I wasn't sure if she was ribbing me about being lost yesterday or not so I just smiled and gave her a thank you bow.
The walk from South Shore to my next reservation at Minshuku Tokumasu was uneventful. It was sunny and very windy. About 20k on hard pavement. My feet were sore and I could tell that there wasn't much life left in my trusty shoes. I would have to start looking for a shoe store when I reach the cape.
The Tokumasu inn was nice and clean. The owners were a widow, her adult son and his family. What I noticed right off was the devotion they displayed to both the inn and each other. The son (or should I say father) held his new baby girl in one arm while showing me around the inn. The children were always nearby (except during sleeping hours). In and out of the place like little whirlwinds. This added a certain depth to the place that isn't normally seen in inns. Not sure whether it's good for business or not, but I enjoyed it.
After I settled in, I asked about an internet connection (something I do at every inn now). The son said that they didn't have one in the inn, but did have one in their house nearby, would I like to use it. Of course I did and thanked him profusely and apologized for the trouble I'll cause. He then asked his wife to escort me over. She had been an exchange student in Denver so her English was pretty good. Two English speaking people in as many days. That was to be the record in Shikoku. It was a laptop sitting on their living room floor. She said she was embarassed by the mess, but I assured her that my home was certainly no neater and I wasn't at all bothered by the clutter. After checking my email, I thanked her and headed outside to stretch my legs a little.
The son was installing a navigation system in their van. Similiar to the one that the fisherman had been showing me the other day. He had the headliner and several panels removed with wires everywhere (typical do it yourself project). I offered my assistance but he assured me that he had it under control. So I walked over and sat on a bench in the sun.
I watched with interest as his 4 year old son ran around swinging a plastic baseball bat. He reminded me of my nephew Yuma (future emperor of the world) only less destructive. Kind of a Yuma-lite. He kept interrupting his father with questions and the occasional pull on the pants leg. I could see the frustration on his dad's face, but his reply was always a smile and "go ask Grandma to play with you". So out would come Grandma to pitch a plastic donut to him. When she would get tired and go back into the kitchen back he would go to Papa with questions like "are you done yet?" and "let's play". Finally, I beckoned him over and spent the next 45 minutes or so pitching the donut to him. I figured this would be the best way that I could help his dad install his navigation system.
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| Little Tokumasu and big Tokumasu |
The son had to go into town and do some shopping so I tagged along. He told me that his father had died 15 years ago. Since then he has worked at the inn and that carrying on the family name, Tokumasu, and the family business are all he wants to do. He then added with a smile "I like to surf too". Who could argue with an agenda like that? I told him I was impressed by his devotion.
During dinner I talked with his wife. I told her that I had lived in west Tokyo during the early 90's. Her face lit up. She told me that she is from Tachikawa which is a stone's throw from where I used to live in Ome. So we talked about that area. The trains, weather, etc. She then introduced me to her mother who was working in the kitchen. I was a little surprised, I originally thought her mother was perhaps the sister of the owner or an employee of the inn. But no, both her mother and her husband's mother are widows and they work together like siblings at the inn. I thought what a perfect setup for everyone. From the grandmas down to the grandchildren.
I don't mean to prattle on about these folks, but they definitely defy my perception of a Japanese family. My experience has been that even within a family there is a certain formality which prevented the kind of open affection I was witnessing here. This lack (or lessening) of formality appears to be the rule rather than the exception here in Shikoku. Of course, my experience has been limited to my wife's family and the Tokyo area which may be a little more reserved than the rest of Japan. Regardless, the easy going nature of the people in Shikoku adds a great deal to it's charm or "magic" as Rie San put it.
Thought for the day
I took off around 8:AM. It was hard to say goodbye to such warmhearted people.
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| Minshuku Tokumasu with Koi Nobori (goldfish flags) raised. |
The trek down to the cape was a little tougher today only because there was little wind and some uphill walking. Regardless, I reached Hotsu-Misakiji (T24) before noon.
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| A better photographer might not have taken this shot facing the sun |
Temple 24 was quite a grand affair. Cape Muroto is a tourist area with whale watching and ocean beaches. It's obvious that Hotsu-Misakiji's location has brought it much wealth.
The trip to ShinShouji (T25) was a little warmer with even less wind due to the fact that I was on the leeward side of the cape. I was feeling a little whooped but still had a long ways to go before my reservation at Temple 26.
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| Kobo Daishi statue with golden sleeping Buddha to the left |
I hurried through Shinshouji. It was another wealthy temple. Got back onto the road to KongoChoji (T26). The final kilometer or so was uphill. Just enough to get my sweat going.
KongoChoji was also a wealthy temple with lots of new construction going on. (Again no photos.). After doing my prayers and getting my nokyo-cho signed I went looking for the lodge associated with this temple. I asked one of the young monks and he gave me directions which seemed very simple. It turned out to be one of those episodes that brings me back to earth. Just when I think I've gotten over getting lost, I find myself wandering around like a child lost in a department store. It turned out that I did indeed find the lodge, but couldn't find the entrance. You would think it would be easy once I had found the building, but no, I couldn't just simply walk around the building. The sides were blocked by rock walls so I ended up walking back up the path a 100 meters or so and then taking another path up to the entrance side of the lodge. Not a big deal unless you've been walking all day with a 12kg pack on your back and all you want to do is slump down somewhere and relax. Alright, enough whining.
The lodge was beautiful with a grand entryway and lobby. The room and bath were excellent and they treated me like a king. I couldn't believe it was only 5800 yen for a room and two meals. This was definitely upscale and the four buses parked outside attested to it's popularity with the travel companies.
The dining hall was huge. There were about 100 bus-riding-middle-aged-housewife-henros at one goup of tables and four walking-crazier-than-a-monkey-henros (including myself) at a separate table. Sitting with me were a 34 year old woman from Ehime prefecture who was doing the pilgrimage by bicycle and an elderly couple. Everything was going smooth until the elderly woman started to speak. First she asked me if I were a Buddhist. I said no. Then she asked if I was a Christian. I said no. Then she went into a monologue about the virtues of Buddhism over Christianity. Every sentence puntuated by "ne, ne" (am I right or what?). Oh my god, if a crow could talk it would sound just like her. I'm like a coyote when it comes to eating, but her voice and tone literally put me off my meal. I had to excuse myself from the table because of the pounding in my head.
I took my tray of food to the kitchen door and asked them if they could make it a take out. They said I can just take the whole thing to my room. So I did and one of the kind hostesses brought more rice and tea to my room. She also came and cleaned up. Very kind.
I nipped down to the gift shop which was just outside of the dining hall. There were perhaps 15 ladies in there scooping up omiage (gifts for those at home). They were from the Nagoya area and all members of the same temple there. Their temple does a bus tour of the pilgrimage every year. One woman had done it five times already. I asked how long it took and they said one week. That didn't seem long enough to do the whole thing. Perhaps they were only doing one prefecture per year. Anyway, it was fun to talk with these women. They were like all bus henro. Genki, well rested and they smelled good.
Thought for the day
© Copyright 2006 James Knighten