The last leg to Santiago de Compestella.

 Hello
Todays Date 4 March 2024 10 years after the event.

To fill you in. 1st November 2014

 We walked into Santiago de Compostella completing a 650klm pilgrimage from Lisbon to Santiago de Compostella. My back was killing me and I was exhausted. 

So here I am with my guide book Photos and memory reliving the footsteps and spiritual ups and downs of that wonderful walk.
Each day that passes I have vivid flashbacks memories of people, places the sounds of the track, the trucks passing. Voices speaking foreign language. Food to die for, delectable wine, strange unfamiliar beds. it is a part of a paradigm shift. I know who I am.
We have attended two Graduations. Citt in Oxford UK. Masterof the Internet.

Kellie from QUT MBA late 2014. 

Two very proud parents we are!
We had a party for for my 70th with friends and family and during the course of that gathering I was asked to contribute some more posts and to finish this journey in print. 10 years later.........


The last 6 days of the Pilgrimage.

 

 

Walking over the bridge that delinates the northern border between Portugal and Spain
TUI Espagna border.

The city was paralysed.

Real Madrid FC v Barcelona FC 1- 0 and the GOD  "Ronaldo" was playing for R.M. 
Huge screens in bars cafes and on streets.Footie Spanish style.
Real Madrid won 2-0 and Ronaldo scored.

The noise of the locals was Fantasic.

No bed to be had at the price we could afford. 
Leaving Pam in a cafe minding our packs. 
Citt and I set off to seek beds, if you are focused it will happen.The most  unusual place. A garden full of carvings. Hostel with private suites - a huge history of America and the new world- time for us to rest and recuperate.

After 2 nights our souls and spirits soared time to move on!

Decision start out early.

It is my task to set the alarm

Now we are on the border.

Portugal is an hour ahead of Spain.

Portugal runs on Lisbon time an hour behind Spain

Spain runs on Madrid time an hour behind Lisbon

Day light saving came in at midnight?

Now 

Is the time 6 or 7.

Wrong we got up at 5. NOT 6. OK I know I calculated that wrong. 

Had Brekkie and went back to bed for an hour.
Citt and Pam were not amused!

Yeh Yeh simple?

No harm done right? Wrong! I heard about it for the rest of the journey.

Walking at dawn is my favorite time of the day, however leaving before first light, can be a problem. The way-marks (are yellow). it is easy to miss them and taking the wrong turn can prove disastrous on a days walk adding kilometres to the day.
By starting at first light 7.00am coffee and pastry stop at 10.00am knowing we have covered around 14 klms which is well into the scheduled walking distance and if the scheduled sleeping stop 7 hrs (25 klms) is closed or full then we have time to walk onto the next bed before the light fades into night. Good theory does not always work but gotta have a plan Stan.

Tui Espagna at first light is magic.  Churches are silent waiting for the faithful. Crucifix silhouetted in the morning light. Slow slope to the river with a Roman bridge silhouetted in the morning light. Mist off the river covering the Roman Bridge the path is low and covered in water pines of soft green, corn silent watching us pass, soft crunch of boot on path no one speaks occasionally Citt opens her camera and clicks an image. Several crosses mark a pilgrims resting place now silent in the mist.
I am in awe the beauty of the past unfolding - a Roman Road - bridges - unchanged paths clothed moss tracks covered with pine and Oak. I hear the creaking of the wood on wood no springs here. The animal toiling under the whip of the centurion in a hurry to get to his house to greet his lover. he watches for the bandits ever present as this is Galicia the land and the place of free spirit. 
Citt calls a warning bringing me back to the space. "Dad the way is blocked by water", we get together and navigate, the hazard - joined by fellow pilgrims. it makes going forward difficult. The recent rains have made the track a lake. More rain on the way. The country around changes to vineyards, corn. Undulating land not very interesting at all. We cross a beautiful roman bridge with a huge stone Madonna sitting in the middle breaking the back of this 2000 year old structure. The rain gets heavier and it is hot- my coat leaks the seams have lifted. i take off all my clothes except my undies and singlet- that works nothing to get wet under my wet weather gear only me.  The trick is to keep out the chill wind.

The miltary bridge from roman times.

We are passed by 5 young Spanish girls chatting with fluorescent scarves flashing? They are moving at a fast pace.

Up ahead we know we have 5-10 klms of Industrial Estate Marble processing. Recycling plants and huge factories to walk through it is hot-near-midday. Our guide- book reminds us Saint James passed this way in 5 AD.
Yeah right!
He would not have had  the smell of rubbish, plastic, metal recycling plants. With large populations of rats, flies mosquito and Mad security dogs terrifying him through the fences.
But hey this is a a pilgrimage right?
"It is enjoyable!" I say.
"get a life Malcolm". says Pam
"we are almost there", Citt chimes in.
"self, cut the negative talk". I say.
(A  huge mastiff tries to tear down the fence to eat us). 
"Who let the dogs out"  "Woof Woof"  sings Citt.
"Stop that stupid song" says Pam.
Who let the cats out? Meow Meow. Sings Citt.

Anyways onwards through the Industrial areas over the rail lines and into suburbia time for lunch. Now this area is famous for its sheep and wine. After searching around for a restaurant we were directed to a Trade Unions Hall that had a dining room. The best roast lamb served in huge amounts and apple pie that was to die for. We set a benchmark for roast lamb and pie. Portugaise roast lamb is not English roast lamb. It is cooked like a sheep shank with lots of Tubor veges and tomatoes. 

This is Porrino and the 5 Spanish girls cackled past us again.

we have still got 18 klms left to walk to Redonella.
 

The Camino has now changed. We are in Espagna and they know the value of the pilgrim and revere our presence. The lanes become decent walking trails well tended with good rest stops and cafes. Few pilgrims walk from Lisbon to Santiago de Compestella. It is a shame as this is the true pilgrimage of St James as here he worked and preached at Padron and surrounds his body was returned from Jerusalem and he was transported and buried in Santiago de Compestella although this is not our final destination this journey we plan to travel on to Finesterre the end of the earth (fine terra).
The country changes and is very pleasant walking although very hilly. Our afternoon tea stop was at a very loud bar serving alcohol and coffee. The local bikies were out in force and it was a bit worrying for us. Our plan was to stop at a villa along the trail about 1 klm from the bikkie stop but when we got there we found the house was for sale and closed. It was a further 9 klms to Redonella this would make it a 32 klm walk and we had wasted time along the way. Reaching Redonella we again were unsuccesful in finding a bed. The local Alberque had no blankets and we had shipped our sleeping bags home to save weight. What to do. 
As always an angel appears directing us to a hole in the wall through which we found a luxury apartment for a pilgrims budget. St James was kind to us that day. 

First light and we again head out after a hearty breakfast in the local Pasteleria. 
 

 

 

 

Now I promised to enlarge on a Pasteleria in an earlier post.---------------------------- A Pasteleria is like a Boullangerie in France, but they serve light meals. The cakes pastries and breads are to die for served with scrumptious coffee, fresh juices or milk shakes. They will cut a sandwich from in house smallgoods like a delicatessen. Every town has one various degrees of class and price. Perfecto.

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The old roman road takes us close to the Atlantic Ocean winding up and down hills . The rocks in some places are worn by the wheels of the carts of the old roman drays that plyed this route. It was the main roman military road linking Porto and Lisbon to the trading ports in the north and the jump off point for Britain. 

The oak trees are going to sleep shedding their acorns and squirrels scurry about collecting  dodging us as we pass. The elms poplar and apple are turning gold ready for the cold winter. Our route is due North the weather is cooling 4 days walking left till we reach Santiago de Compestella. Citt predicts rain in 5 days.

We walk on now hardened and fit. Pams' blisters are on the mend. We all need a haircut and a good bath.

We hear the gaggle and rattle of the 5 Spanish girls walking fast.

Passing through beautiful grape country with trellised paths and walkways. Small chapels and grottos mark the route. Water fountains hundreds of years old are there for refreshment. Our morning stop is a bar with 2 very loud girls enjoying the spirit of the occasion serving a great coffee and bread complete with a scollop shell as a souvenir. 
Our journey took us to the Town of Arcade.
Lunch stop and the beautiful bridge Ponte Sampaio Here the Portugese forces stopped the march of Napoleon. They blew half the structure away. (Bit hard to walk on water even Napoleon could not do that.)
Onto a large provincial City Pontevedre spiritual cultured and lovely with a Cathedral,  Chapels, Restaurants,Tapas bars and ample sleeping accommodation.
We meet up with other pilgrims who we have passed on and off for the past weeks Restaurant Dinner is not served in Spain until 9.00. Always a problem for Pilgrims.

The weather was holding fast sunny days and cool mornings making for great walking.
Walking in this part of Spain is relatively easy there are no real climbs the refreshment stops are well placed and accommodation is not a real problem.

Ponte Sampaio

Having walked the French Camino the year earlier my spiritual health was good. I stopped at regular intervals to give thanks at chapels, grottoes and beautiful trees but it was not like my earlier pilgrimage this time I had presence and peace, being in the space being in my self. It is a state I have not experienced before. I have a deep inner peace a serenity of being. I have given thanks for my life and those who have shared with me. Now I am free to enjoy the rest of my journey.

The rock and St James

 

Our fellow pilgrims  had taken the route of St James. Myth has it his body was returned from Jerusalem. It landed on the point of the estuary and then carried to Padron and onto Santiago De Compestella

 

Padron houses the Chapel of St James and as always it was locked. Venturing up a long line of stairs we sat on the mount where St James held his sessions. A plain rock outcrop and a spring was all it was. Citt had a theory. In the time of St James the area would have been occupied by Pagan people and the site would have been their worship site because of the spring. St James took over the site to deny the Pagans a place of worship. Could be and it worked so gotta be a good strategy.

We opted to continue on the way as there was serious questions if the boat was running from the point to Padron

The smoking of the pilgrims Cathedral of St James Santiago de Compestella

The walk from Padron following the marked Camino was unevenful passing through surburbia and eucalypt forests, (never nice going into Santiago de Compestella. It is a large city and the old town is only a small part of this suburban mess). 
We have a small 15th century house booked in the old town to allow us time to continue onto Finesterre and explore Santiago de Compestella and give us some time to relax.

Then we met Fernando.

Finnesterre and Fernando

We hired a small house in the centre of Santiago to see the sites pack up our gear and head for Oxford UK where Citt was graduating from Oxford university.

 

 

 

 

However the owner of the cottage an obliging fellow offered to take us to Finesterre and surrounds for Lunch.

We did not refuse as it is 30 klms to Finesterre that is 60 round trip and we had just about exhausted our energy.

This is Gallicia.
 

 

 

 

Fernando showed us the incredible Roman bridge and village. 

Driving through hilly coastal country to the coastal region renowned for its seafood, cheese, lamb and fruit. 

We sampled a fish dinner Galicia style and it was fabulous. Thank you Fernando.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The next stop after Finesterre is the Americas. Strong wind and rain are daily and fog covers on a daily occurrence. There is a small chapel at the waters edge. I did not go to that chapel

Finester the end of the earth next stop America.

I am sure I have turned into a tourist.

Note 5 October 2015

The journeyer becomes a tourist.

This note finds me @ Fukuokakata Airport 

Your intrepid traveller is going home I am reflecting on the latter part of the journey where I am sure I turned into a tourist. 

A traveller comes and sees what they see. 

A tourist comes and sees what they came to see. 

 I crossed  on the ferry from Yawatahama Shinkoku to Beppu Kyushu promptly falling asleep when I arrived slept a solid 15 hours catching the first train out next morning to Aso. 

The day is sunny. The town is full of tour buses with well dressed Japanese - rubber necking.  I decide not to trust my luck and I catch the next bus up to the crater. It is 4.5 kilometers long and 1.8 kilometers wide it is making funny noises and it smells like Rotorua . The barricades are up 2 kilometers out I am disappointed. 

The caldera around the mountain is wonderful a flat plain surrounded by a circle of mountains. It was created after a huge eruption subsequently collapsing the surrounding mountains forming the plain. 

. I am a bit of a stand out. My 2 sets of clothes are not high fashion. The smell has gone I did laundry at the hostel. Bit crushed but.

 I meet Europeans who are on tour - I am trying to adjust. Not doing real well. I decide the only way to do this is to ask them a lot of questions - that works. I keep my peace. 

I decide to head straight for Nagasaki the site of the second A Bomb. Local train, Shinkensen, limited Express. I sit with a Japanese military officer who fly's Helicopters and he has two kids. We share our biscuits and coffee chatting about our wives, kids and grand kids. Too soon, he is gone and I arrive at Nagasaki. 

2 days I spend sightseeing that lovely city. The tragedy of the American A Bomb dropped (on Pam's actual birthdate) 9 August 1945 killing immediately 73,000 people and the tragedy lives on with cancers and burns. Today Nagasaki is touted as Japan's most liveable city. It is beautiful. 

Traveling from there to Fukuoka very confusing some call it Hakata and others Fukuoka. It is a large city nestled in the hills with a ferry link to China and Korea. 

It is Wednesday. I planned to get here and visit the Asia Art museum touted as one of Asia's best. The Art Museum closes on Wednesday. "OK" I say.  So I head for Karutsu a town south of here famous for its art and pottery. Half way there the train fills with people dressed in national costume. Oh no, It is festival day the town is closed. 

It was easy to get into the mood of the craziest street parade with beautiful floats pulled and pushed by the whole town.  Some of the floats are hundreds of years old. 

http://www.jnto.go.jp/eng/location/spot/festival/karatsukunchi.html

Anyways After the parade a few museums and shops opened with stock to sell. I caroused the rare collections of fantastic bowls cups plates and urns. 

Holy moly the prices brought tears to my eyes. 

A luxury car sells for the same price as a bowl!

What if the kids dropped it? 

After sauntering around Fukuoka for a day I did get to the Art Museum and the folk museums. 

Finally I visited the Kashida Shrine (6thcent Hakata town) to pay my respects say a mantra and ask for health and happiness for myself, wife and family. 

I posted a special wish for you. I ask for health, happiness and long life.  

For Nikki and Kevin who plan to marry I lit a candle rang the bell and said a mantra for their union I ask for happiness, health and harmony 

88 Shrines. 

Lessons learnt. I wished to experience the Japanese way of life.  Their food, language customs and traditional behaviour.  I experienced their stubbornness telling me what was expected. I respected that as I am a guest in their house/land and I was treated as one. 

I walked over mountains covered in pines, spruce, maples and elm valleys with musical streams, moss, ferns, magic rocks walking in fields of rice, cabbage, onion, lettuce, flowers and some fallow for the winter. I saw people walking small dogs dressed in smart designer outfits, kids of all ages on the trains sleeping on their way home or going to School. Matrons, fathers mothers children going about their daily choirs. Farmers working, home gardeners trimming their trees in competition with the neighbour. Football,, Baseball, and La Crosse fields covered with kids of all ages.  Every second shop houses a scissor wielding hair artist with a flash menu and prices to match. This is a rich land full of culture, art, ceremony and spiritualism. 

It was good to feel the wind and sun on my face, the aches in my body after long days on the path.  To find a house willing to take me in to feed and make me comfortable with a bath, good meal and a hearty breakfast to get me on my way. There were many who showed kindness, patience and understanding some went to great lengths to offer directions, offering gifts of sweets fruit clothing food. 

Of course the whole reason for walking is to visit the Shrines. They are all different and all have a history. Immaculately maintained with no pond life. The shrines make for something to aim for enriching the journey the Henros create a brotherhood amongst themselves. But most of these Shrines are built on top of a hill or a mountain. 

The lesson: compassion and patience 

The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference. 

Robert Frost

I am back home with beautiful wife and family Gold Coast Australia 

For now goodbye my friend

Malcolm. 

Over the mountains to #45. 88 Shrines

Notes 27 October 2015

Kuma Kogan township. 1800 ft. 

This note finds me in a Ryokan run for Henro. I am in a dining room adjourned with photos of Henro in full gear, newspaper clippings, letters and books the room is traditional timber panelled with rice paper-dividers, the floor is bare-timber polished by a thousand slippers, lit by the softest of lights, the space is warm and comforting secure from the teeming rain outside. 

The smell of good food fills the room our host lights the individual hot pots containing chicken bits, cabbage, mushrooms, thin slices of onion in a broth. Noodles are in a little bowl ready to be put into the hotpot. The tray is laid out with a dozen small bowls, pickles, Shishimi fish, boiled potatoes, baked tomato, baked eggplant, curdled Soy, sardine in oil, sliced swede, mixed veggie with little chicken bits, rice, Soy sauce, chilli powder. Fig in honey glacé and what looks like a creme Brulle. There is green tea and water. 

I listen intently to the Japanese not being able to understand the direction of the conversation. I have walked with some of these Henros.

 I draw back into my own thoughts concentrating on the gastronomic tastes and marvelling at the skill of our host. 

I am suddenly back at the table. I am being asked in English why I came back from #44? 

The real answer. 

I was anxious to move on and walk 44-45 the latter is a 9.8 klm walk in the mountains in and back 19.6klms over 2 mountain passes it would be a challenge for me. 

Anyways gung-ho Malcolm San arrives in Kuma plenty of time to start the walk and promptly follows the arrows the wrong way. It is OK to get lost but not in the mountains they are hard work with an 11 kg pack. Anyways after an hour - back I go and find the right track but a local stops me and points at the sky. Yep I had been so wrapped up in finding the way I forgot to check the elements. She was wagging her finger and crossing her arms like a street vendor selling those peely-choppy thingies. But I got the message there was a storm coming. I decided to do the 3 klm to #44 anyway just to satisfy my male ego. it was then I turned back and found this ryokan. 

Could I tell him this story? No.

My answer "there was a storm coming". Said cool Malcolm San. It was true listen to the rain.

The morning dawned clear and cold. After a wonderful Japanese Brekkie I hit the road. My intention was to catch a bus. (Yeh I know a real wimp) but this #45 had shaken my confidence.  I was fussing about looking for bus times when a policeman stopped me. I explained my intentions to catch a bus. This happy policeman started to laugh in broken English he said it is only 3 hours walk and catch the bus back. Spoken like a man.

So that is what I did over both mountain passes with 11 kg pack. (Yes Citt I drained the water from my camel). #45 was so beautiful nestled below a 300 metre cliff with age old spruce and pine standing sentinel. The sun dappling the age old buildings, the sound of soft bells from pilgrims sticks ringing out in the clear mountain air. The Eagles glide in the updraft calling in a high pitched whistle. I give the underground shrine a by-pass. I am claustrophobic. 

I caught the 13.05 bus and the Matsuyama bus back to the Terminal Hotel and a welcome Onsen.  

Notes 29 October 2015

This note finds me @ the Terminal Hotel reflecting on the past 3 weeks. I am feeling a little sad. Journeys are like life in microcosm. I think of what I could have done, I think of what I should have done and I think of what I have done. It is past. Lessons learnt passing souls enjoyed. I have walked 450 klms, caught buses, ferries, trains hitched rides even rode in a police car. I have made it to Shrine #51 I have had so much fun and found inner peace. 

As i journeyed the kindness and respect from these people was sometimes overwhelming. I only hope the lessons I have learnt will help me to live a better life. Thank you for following my blogs for me this journey is over. If I am able I would love to journey the 37 Shrines I have not visited. But that is not in my hands. 

I leave Shinkoku tomorrow

A beautiful morning for a Mini-cruise. 88 Shrines Of Shinkoku.

Notes 21 October 2015

You will find me early this morning sitting outside a fish factory on the inlet at Tosa City. 

Why you ask? 

 There is a little ferry tied to the concrete Tsunamai wall that is to take me to 7 ports inside Meitoku Peninsula. That's about right for a mini-cruise. 

it is a glorious morning the water is mirroring the tall mountains, gentle sounds of bird song and the clunk of choppers dissecting the nights catch of Bonito and Mackerel. harvested by fishermen in high bowed long flatboats. The people around here are traditional Japanese with polite and correct attitudes. It is such a joy to travel free with no fear of harm, they respect and expect the same. 

I bummed a ride yesterday from temple 35 to Temple 36. I finally succumbed to the heat and just could not face a 16 klm walk back through the concrete jungle. The couple I rode with had a beautiful car. I was a bit ashamed as it was so clean I could smell myself. They did not seem to mind the smell or maybe they were to polite  I did notice they got my bag out of the boot real quick. 

Temple 36 Shorjuyi is high on a bluff watching out for sailors and all who go on the sea. I was lucky the local monk arrived with his huge conical shell (the biggest I have ever seen). It was near sunset. 

He blew the blessings. It sent shock waves through my body creating tingling. The temple and the mountain are as one and the sound had strange vibrations. It lasted for a few minutes but for me I will hear it forever. It was one of those moments 

"Buddha, Thank you for this wonderful  journey"

the lesson Respect. 

Now for this cruise sitting outside the fish factory please do not ask how I found it? It is embarrassing. 

The guy with solar panels,stove, boots and all arrives. 

The couple I have been tagging for a week arrive. (Ah so they must have jumped a bus or scammed a ride to have gotten here. Thinks me).

Enough the captain blows his horn and it is all aboard this gallant little ferry boat. The four of us have a great time sailing the sound on our mini cruise. Then-  

Yep walkies Henros. 

Me I am heading for the train. It is 57 klms to #37 and only 9 klms to the train that will get me to within 2 klms of the Shrine #37. 

The train wins. 

The train wins.  

Cats and other sounds in the night. 88 shrines

Here I am 12 days into this pilgrimage of 88 Shrines and I must admit this morning I am questioning wether I am loosing my marbles. Picture me sitting on a provincial rail station called Tonohama Shinkoku. 

Yesterday I left Cape Muroto in 28 degree heat. I got a little confused. An angel took me to the Police Station.  They sorted me out. Due to the tangled streets and the Tsunami work going on it was not inexcusable to get lost. As a bonus I arrived at #25 Shrine in a police car no siren thank you. Henri the Frenchman we had been tagging each other could not stop laughing at "u stupid Australian boy". Sounds rather cute with his heavy accent. 

Thanks Buddha.

Not to be defeated I then climbed to Shrine 26 on a path fit only for goats. I was hot hungry and thirsty. I could solve the thirsty but not the hungry. There was no eatery and it was Saturday the food marts were shut. My magic Host at Cape Muroto had given me smoked mackerel with pickles and rice for Breakfast at 05.30. It was getting on 1400 hours.

Alarm Bells were ringing the sun was starting to go down  I had to walk down the mountain and get a bus train to here Tonohama a distance of near 60 klms for an overnight and the long difficult walk to Shrine 27. 

Leaving Shrine 26 I met Henri again. He confided it would be easy to hitch from the car park. I did. The car went the wrong way with me in it. Merci Henri. Thanks to the GPS in the car. Then I decided to take a short cut down the mountain.........

Yep some people do have em. I popped out on the main highway 55 exhausted hot hungry and thirsty. I thought give me a break Buddha I only came to learn a few lessons not the whole gambit. 

Anyways finally navigated my way to here And the village consists of a petrol station on the 55 and 200 acres or so  of hot houses growing eggplants cucumber and flowers. I found a run down Minshuku run by a grumpy old man. And a bloody great high Tsunamai wall. (I kept my pack ready to go by the door). 

Any ways the rooms are divided by rice paper and bamboo framed screens. I settled down hungry but bathed. After walking 55 in search of a feed I gave up to bed supper less. Settled down the guy next screen had gas and snored. Between his farts and snores and the bloody cats having a war I was glad when my windy friend's iPhone hit 4.30 and his siren alarm went off. Fair dinkum some people. 

So here I am sitting on a Provincial rail station- Japan at 07.30 on a bright sunny morning waiting for the train to Noichi 70 klms away and #28, 29,30 Shrines for me to discover. I know there is a cfe on the rail station my guide book tells me. I'm afraid Shrine 27 has got the better of me. I am not going there the feeling ain't right. I need food now. 

The lesson I got has to be Tolerance. 

Saw the Turkish couple slogging it out on highway 55. 

Wonder where Henri is.

The spider and the fly. 88 Shrines of Kinkoku.

The saga of changing money and WIFI.  

Saga 

Nothing seems easy in Japan. The bows The Origatos hide a complicated system. With lots of face. 

 WIFI there is a free Japan Tourist app giving 2 weeks free. What is wrong with that? Well fill in all details email home address etc and then tick off your life interests. Then. The the app asks for passcode to your IOS system. Yep go jump. I will rely on the free stuff at lodgings. Cannot buy a sim. Nope no Joey. U tourist not stay 60 day. Oookkkk. 

Money I spent 2 hours trying to change my humble Au$ to ¥.  A bank clerk in the end took me and showed me the grandest of grandest Bank AWA

 (what a lovely person to leave her desk and walk a kilometre with a dumb Henro).  

Yep for 10% fee at the roughest of rates the grandest of grandest Bank AWA took my Au$ in exchange for ¥. 

All around this grandest of grandest Bank AWA were beautiful Japanese smiles. 

Made me feel like a fly in a spiders web.   

I had just been stung.

Anyways I missed my early bus. Next bus 12.50. Not to worry time to write you, have a coffee and contemplate my good fortune to have seen the grandest of grandest Bank AWA and to know I have contributed to their cause. 

I am trying to figure out what the lesson was this morning?  

Bright spark award. 

 "he who has the gold makes the rules" A Fellow Swapper. 

88 shrines Blog. Please tap on this heading to access Blog.

Just a friendly note to better enjoy the blog. The email is a bonus. 

True North Day 6. 88 Shrines of shikoku

Notes. After 17 shrines. 

Hello I started in Tokushima  here I am again. 

Visiting shrines is not straight forward indeed it is like a Cook's tour of the small idyllic hamlets and byways of rural Japan here in Tokushima Prefecture there is a diverse range of scenery Mountains covered in Pines, Spruce and Maple. The river flats grow rice, pigs, chickens with small towns.  There is some manufacturing of farm machinery but not on a large scale. The whole prefecture seems to be Criss crossed with roads and by roads winding and bending around hills mountains and rivers. It is very confusing to keep True north in the mind. Hence my journey has sometimes gone the wrong way. 

The path of the Henro is clearly marked. But to avoid two mountain walks I decided to catch a train from #11 Shrine and hop off at Kuo station and visit in reverse order # 17,16,15,14,13 and Sunday walk the mountain trail to #12. Perfectly simple you may ask. I walked 32 klms most of it the wrong way a 9 hour day coming into a small Traditional Hotel after dark with headlight flashing is not my idea of a holiday. BUT. it was not raining. 

I was correct in my assumption that the walk from #11 to #12 with my full pack would have been too difficult for me.

After a fantastic Japanese breakfast caught the bus to the end of the bus route. It is 9 klm from bus stop to Shrine straight up.  (left my pack at a family grocery store). I bought some lunch and a sweat to take with me in my day pack. I left the store at 8.30 thinking I would have ample time to walk up and back. The bus left to go back at 2.30pm . 

The track was a killer took 4 hours. 

Shosanji  Shrine is  beautiful 200 year old trees protect it and stand sentinel to the test of time. The maple are just starting to change colour ialong with recent rain the forest is glorious. 

I share a meagre lunch with a Japanese Henro at the Shrine escarpment before we headed  back down together, it was good to be with a kindred soul, our language differed but our purpose was the same.

 Back to the time factor I did not dilly dally on the way. I just made the 2.30 bus to Tokushima. My book is done to # 17 Shrine. I am happy. 

Had a need to top up yen in Tokushima. 

Woke up sore and a little slow, when I stood up it got worse. Packed checked out and noticed that the streets were quiet had a coffee and an egg-bacon sandwich. 

Great it is a holiday. 

Banks all shut. 

No worries ATM, right, do you read Japanese? no. What to do? My body was telling me this is for a reason take a day off. 

Back to my 5 Tatami room where the train comes through every 15 minutes. Have been asleep since 11.00   Slept for 3 hours. 

Every thing has a reason! 

Buddha "thanks".

“When preparing to travel, lay out all your clothes and all your money. Then take half the clothes and twice the money".  Unknown. 

Day 1-2 going into 3. 88 shrines of Shikoku Japan

Hello it is a long time since I posted you. 

I write from seat 1D on a Jetstar flight bound for Cairns and onto Kansai International Japan. I have a plan to walk part of a 1300 klm pilgrimage - 88 Shrines of Shikoku. And to traverse the volcano Aso San  in Kyushu Japan. 

You ask why another pilgrimage?

 Cancer the grim sinister stalker has been part of my life for 9 years  post, present and  future. (My hope is to be rid of the curse this year). I have a  deep sadness! I have lost three old dear friends to varying types of this insidious disease. With each passing a little of my soul has gone with them. Never a day goes by I am not reminded of my good fortune to have escaped with my life and health. To enjoy my beautiful wife, children, the wonder of our little grandchildren and you my friend.  

For me to be on this journey is an honour, Following  the steps and spirit of those that have gone before on the path of enlightenment. I long to feel the sun and wind in my hair the rain on my face and see the vast panoramas. to meditate in sacred places.  I love to see how people live their every day lives constantly reminding myself I am only a traveller/guest in this land. To be as one with this wonderful earth. To truly live as a being, for me this is the purpose of this journey!

My start point is Kansai International Airport Japan. The plan is to overnite in Wakayama the ferry port for Takashima Shikoku. Takashima is the start point of the walk.. #1 Shrine. There is not time in my agenda to complete the 88 Shrines  but I will go as far as my legs will carry me. I must catch another ferry to Kyushu by the 1 Nov to traverse Aso San The Volcano is still active and dangerous. I understand strict procedures are in place. 

Gunna love this adventure!

"I hate it when people see me at the supermarket and they're like 'Hey, what are you doing here?' I tell them 'You know.. hunting elephants" http://coolfunnyquotes.com  

Tuesday 6 October 2015

Wakyama city inn

Yep I was the main attraction at the breakfast hall - but hey I am not that bad looking that the young ladies giggle at me. Maybe it's adoration. "Yeh I hear in your dreams".

I must get from the hotel to the ferry.

 Pull into the JR Station too hard. 

 I know there is a rail line covering the 6 klms but it seems one has to change trains problem. 

So I walk. 

Fabulous way to get into the swing of things. Clean and neat with the usual traffic Not hot not wet. Make the ferry terminal but miss the ferry by 5 minutes next ferry 4 hours. Time to write and do some homework. There is no English signs or writing  in restaurants or transport   To date have had a lot of help.  Japanese are pretty cool about this stuff. Staying in a traditional tatami room in a good guest house. What the guide book did not say was it was near a rail line. 

“Travel works best when you’re forced to come to terms with the place you’re in.” – Paul Theroux

Camino de Santiago de Compestella Portugaise. Spanish Border.

Hi readers
How is it that some days the pack is light and some days I swear there are bricks in it! And how come the coffee breaks are such a long way in between. Some days I walk and listen to the birds song, I concentrate on the crunch of boots on gravel, the pain of cobbles on the soles of my feet through boot hour on hour with my poles getting caught in the small cracks. Then I fall into a thought pattern. Marvelling at the wonderful things that have happened to me in my life.

Of course it follows this is why I am walking the "Way of St James" to give thanks it is even better to have my dearest wife and daughter to be on this path together. And then there is you.

I do not know what you are thinking of this journal but I hope one day you can feel the wind and rain the warm sunshine, the steep hills, long valleys of corn, olives, eucalyptus forests, cork oak forests. The pungent smell of the piggeries, feed lots, chicken farms. Hear the peel of the church bells ringing out loud, some digitalised , others just good old fashioned bells giving the hour. Dogs bark frantically as we pass by their gates.

It is coming on winter.
We have walked 500 klms North from Lisbon through a Industrial complexes, busy roads, flooded bush tracks, medieval villages- locked and in disrepair resembling a war zone. Huge Quintas and manor houses falling down, we are in disbelief. This is Portugal.

 Then there was Opporto. Home of Port wine, vibrant alive with huge block churches solid stone houses, streets narrow houses painted in vibrant colour, the rail station huge murals of a thousand tile-art work depicting battles, peasent scenes, rural harvests.  Gives me the feeling this is a socialist country. Of course I am correct.
 Oporto is a wonderful city built on the steep banks of the Douro River. Catherine bought us some time in a beautiful apartment right on the river as a gift for my 70th birthday we spent a couple of days loving this city.

Now we are a days walk from the Spanish border. The locals are finishing the olive harvest. The grape vines are turning red. Poplar, Elm, Oak leaves fall all around as we pass through the lanes copses and old roman roads. We have passed through the Douro giving the dark full blooded red wines we are now in the Vinho Verde region giving wines of pale colour with a texture that slides off the palate with slight fizzy taste. The country has changed from river flats to rolling hills making our progress slower. However our fitness is good.

Our physical condition has improved. Pam had blister on blister. These seem to be under control. Citt did well with no training, had niggles but held out. My back has progressively improved with assistance from modern antiinflammatory drugs.  I would like to think my faith gave me strength.

I walk the way of St James with light heart. I go on my pilgrimage through this land filled with crosses churches (always locked). niches filled with effigy of people. These to me an era past.  I feel the spirit of those in whose footsteps I tread. Those who have offered kindness, understanding and tolerance.   This to me is the true spirit.
Buon Camino.