When planning this route, the Japanese specificity really didn’t help. I walked from Hongu to Koguchi. The trailheads are in Umezawa and Kowaze. So when you’re trying to plan the fucker, your head starts to explode when you actually get people saying “It doesn’t start in Hongu, actually. It actually starts in Umezawa actually actually I think you’ll find.” Sure if you need to meet someone say “The Art’s Theatre” not “Leicester Square”. But either will do if you’re planning a walk. Go with the bigger one.
I woke up in the morning and spent two hours on buses to Hongu. Then a very valuable drop into the tourist information centre to make sure I was hitting the right trailhead, and forty five minutes walking down a main road – crucially ignoring a Kumano-Kodo trailhead that isn’t at Umezawa and goes the wrong way. Which I imagine is why people feel their pedantry is justified.
I have time pressure today, as Koguchi *ow* Kowaze is not well served with buses. My last one leaves shortly after 5. A late start means I can’t take it too easy. But I’ve been told this section is pretty chilled. Yesterday was Nakahechi Route Stage 4. Today was stage 3. “You’ll do it in 5 hours I reckon,” says Dominic. And he’s right. But I don’t trust it so I’m yomping.
An Englishman in Kumano, it would be madness not to bring an umbrella, I tell you. I’ve got a little one sticking out of my pack and when the heavens open I am very proud of myself for that. It’s an easy trail, the views are supposed to be wonderful. But I’m in a cloud, and I’ve seen plenty of ancient cedars by now. The nightingales are still bravely trying for call and response. I put one foot in front of the other.
Hyakken-gura lookout is a rare moment when the trees are clear and you can see for miles. “Take time to admire this glorious view, as pilgrims have done for 3000 years!”
White is resonant. The spirits have laid on a white view to reflect back on those of us lucky enough to have walked this section today.
I know I shouldn’t be wearing cotton. The rain will make it cold. The mist though – it gives an atmosphere. At times I stand in awe, listening to the sound of the forest. One moment I worry I’ve got stuck in a loop as a bridge seems to repeat itself. I have to check my photos and the trees around it to be sure it wasn’t the same bridge twice.
Plenty of time to think with the world so quiet. I’m occasionally talking to myself, working through things I’ve been bad at looking at.
The miles peel away in the mist. I’m hot enough walking that the wet t-shirt isn’t killing me. No lunch though today. For some reason I don’t want my cheese. I just have an orange and some rice crackers.
Someone used to live in one of the teahouses until 1960. I find myself envying them. The nightingales at night. The absolute solitude, and this particular teahouse ruin is not a hard walk from either trailhead. You could get a mule. Keep chickens. Live a peaceful life. Flog hot tea and rice cakes to pilgrims.
Koguchi just happens. Kowaze actually, I think you’ll find Koguchi is two bus stops down the road to the right after you’ve crossed the river.
I wait for a bus. Then there’s another bus. By the time I’ve got to the third bus stop I’ve spent almost as much time on buses today as I have on the path. I go into a little Sakē shop by the bus stop. It’s really just to have something to think about other than being hungry and bedraggled. I pick up and put down a few bottles, and smile at the owner but honestly I’m not here to buy sakē. I return to the bus stop and a few minutes later the owner comes out and gives me this:
By the time I’m back at the digs I’m exhausted. I try to go shopping a bit, grab a snack, and go and pass out in my cupboard.
AlBarclay 