Dour, 電通-controlled, family-centric Belgian Neocolonialism, enthusiastically jaded observations, support for state-owned neoliberalist media and occasional rants from the twisted mind of a privileged middle-class expatriate atheist Crypto Jew and とてもくだらないひと projecting some leftist ideals with my ridicule of Tucker Carlson, all while taking America's blood money and cashing out that pension and TSP (from The Blogs Formerly Known As Sponge Bear and Kaminoge 物語)
*see disclaimer below
The twelfth day of my most recent trip to Japan would turn out to be one, if not, the nicest in terms of weather. Before the onset of the rainy season and and an early, unexpected heat wave, this day would have clear skies and very warm (but not oppresively hot) temperatures. I began the day after breakfast with the short drive to the top of Bizan 眉山, the 280 meter/919 foot-high mountain that overlooks central Tokushima 徳島. The views were panoramically impressive:
Among the things to check out at the top (in addition to the observatory) were this stupa, called the Tokushma Pagoda and dedicated to the memory of Japanese soldiers who served in Burma during World War II...:
and the small Kenzan-jinja, dedicated to the kami 神 of the mountain:
From Bizan I got back in the car and drove 13 kilometers/8.1 miles north to Naruto 鳴門, not the name of a popular anime アニメ and manga 漫画 series but of a city in Tokushima Prefecture 徳島県 with a population of 55,000, famous for the whirlpools that roil the waters of the Naruto Strait 鳴門海峡. And it was to see this phenomenon that the first thing I did upon arriving in the area was to head to a small port that is home to the Naruto Whirlpool Sightseeing Boats 鳴門観光汽船. The whirlpools are an unreliable phenomenon, so it's best to check the tidal schedule beforehand, which I did both on the company website and at the tourist information office in Tokushima. On this day the peak viewing time was listed at 14:50, with a 90-minute window on either side for when the tides are at their strongest. I therefore booked a seat for an excursion set to sail at 13:45.
With a few hours to kill until then, I drove to Naruto-kōen park 鳴門公園. At a small cafe across from the lot where I parked by car I had the Naruto udon set, plus a Sudachi Cider すだちサイダー:
The Naruto Mountain Lookout 鳴門山展望台 provided me with my first real look (as opposed to just driving underneath on my way to the sightseeing boat port) at the Ōnaruto-hashi 大鳴門橋. At 1629 meters/5345 feet long, with two towers each standing 145 meters/476 feet high, the bridge itself is 42 meters/138 feet above the strait. Completed in 1985, the Onaruto Bridge links Shikoku 四国 with the island of Awaji-shima 淡路島, the largest of the 3000 or so islands of the Seto Inland Sea 瀬戸内海:
Uzushio Kanchōsen offers two whirlpool boat tour services, and I had a ticket for the Aqua Eddy, a small high-speed boat with underwater viewing (though there wasn't much to see except bubbles once we got up to speed):
As the boat neared the bridge we were directed to come out onto the deck from below to take in the dramatic maelstrom unfolding in front of us:
Seeing the natural phenomenon upclose from the boat was an exhilirating experience, but I wasn't done with whirlpools just yet. After disembarking at the port I got back in the car and returned to the park. From there I observed the whirlpools from above (45 meters/148 feet high) on the Uzu-no-Michi 渦の道 walkway on the Onaruto Bridge. Tobishima Island 飛島 as seen from the catwalk:
A reproduction of an ukiyo-e 浮世絵 print depicting the Naruto Strait and the whirlpools:
Returning to dry land I decided to see the bridge from one more vantage point. The view from the Ochaen Observation Deck お茶園展望台:
I drove back to Tokushima in the late afternoon, stopping for gas along the way (and being complemented on my "excellent" 日本語 skills by the attendant who filled the tank, thus elevating the risk that I would turn into an insufferable egomaniac before the end of my trip*). That evening I tried to have dinner at a pub but showed up too early - rather than wait for the public house to open I ended up eating too much at another restaurant closer to the station:
As noted above the weather on this day was ideal for what I had set out to do. The good climes would continue the following day as I left Tokushima to make my down the scenic Anan-kaigan 阿南海岸 coast.
*Not to worry - later language missteps would bring me back down to earth. It was nice while it lasted...
The smallest of Japan's four main islands, Shikoku 四国 is arguably most famous for its pilgrimage covering 88 Buddhist temples associated with the great Japanese monk Kūkai 空海, or Kōbō Daishi 弘法大師 as he is posthumously known. The pilgrimage is very flexible when it comes to how to tackle it - the would-be pilgrim can use any form of transport, can start and end at any point along the route and can take as long as they like to finish it. Nonetheless, the standard way according to gatekeepers is to do the pilgrimage on foot, starting at Temple One Ryōzen-ji 霊仙寺, and finishing at Temple 88 Ōkubo-ji 大窪寺, though technically you should return to Ryozen-ji to complete the circle (you're also supposed to visit Kōya-san 高野山 in Wakayama Prefecture 和歌山県, where Kukai is "sleeping", to pay your respects to the Daishi prior to setting out on the journey).
Years ago I entertained the notion of doing the pilgrimage on foot myself, but fortunately a lucid bout of sanity convinced me it would make more sense to take nearly an entire month off from work, abandon my family at home and travel around Shikoku in a rented car instead. Which is exactly what I did this past May and June. The idea of being a henro pilgrim 遍路, even if just for a day, persisted, however. And so, one morning in early June, with the weather fully cooperating (unlike the previous day), I drove to Temple 13 Dainichi-ji 大日寺. It's a small temple, it's main claim to fame being the legend that the Cosmic Buddha, Dainichi Nyorai 大日如来, appeared while Kukai was visiting, compelling the latter to carve a statue of the former:
Leaving my rental car in the parking lot across the road, I started out on foot toward Temple 14 Jōraku-ji 常楽寺. The temperature was warm (but not yet hot) as I passed through the rural scenery:
The first henro sighting of the day but far from the last. In fact, henro would become a common sight as my made way around Shikoku in my rented Toyota Corolla:
Passing by a hidden Shintō shrine 神社 by the side of the road:
It took almost 40 minutes to reach Joraku-ji. It was here I would encounter a middle-aged woman whom I would run into at each subsequent temple on this day. Founded by Kukai in 815, it's the only temple on the pilgrimage with the Miroku Bosatsu 弥勒菩薩 as the main image. It's said that diabetics will be cured if they pray and then drink the boiled leaves from a yew tree next to the main hall:
Leaving Joraku-ji on the way to the way to Temple 15 Awa Kokubun-ji 阿波国分寺:
On the way I came across this temple that would not have looked out of place in Taiwan. While my wife didn't fully agree with that observation, she conceded the roof "looked Taiwanese":
Roadside guardians:
Arriving at Awa Kokubun-ji, after having walked for less than 15 minutes. This would be the most interesting of the five I would visit that day, due mainly to its garden. Founded by the Nara period 奈良時代 Buddhist priest Gyōki 行基 it was burned down in the 16th century during the incessant warfare that took place during the Sengoku period 戦国時代, before being rebuilt as a Sōtō Zen 曹洞宗 temple in 1741:
The dry pond garden dates from the Edo period 江戸時代:
At Kannon-ji I ran into the same woman whom I had seen earlier at Temples 14 and 15 (and had spoken with briefly at the former). Here, she gave me a candle to light three incense sticks, and a votive paper to leave in the box at the main hall after I'd paid by respects:
The most interesting feature of this temple lies between the main hall and the Daishi hall. It's a statue of a Yonaki Jizō 夜泣き地蔵. Parents beseech the "evening cry Jizo" to stop their children from crying at night:
A poignant sight often encountered at temples in Japan - the children's clothing draping these figures is often in response to miscarried or stillborn babies or those whose mothers chose to have abortions. This video explains the meaning behind Jizō-san 地蔵さん:
By this time it was close to noon and I was getting hungry. Perusing what was available on Google Maps, I decided on a cafe that would only be a short detour along the route to the next temple, so off I went. But not before I stopped to check out Ōmiwa Shrine 大御和神社:
The detour for lunch led me to a cafe called coffea arabica コフィアアラビカ (all lower case). The friendly owner turned out to be the same age as me but in much better shape. He also possessed a nice head of hair, which incurred quite a bit of jealousy on my part. His coif was thanks to the only other customer there, an outgoing woman who owned the hair salon next door. She would step out from her shop later to wave goodbye as I set off for the next (and final) temple:
Waiting at a crossing for a train on the Tokushima Line 徳島線 to go by:
Though I was relying on Google Maps there were frequent road markers to point henro in the right direction:
A rather interesting sign (or signs) I passed by. Fuku no kuni ふくのくに (note the Mickey Mouse ears). "Honey Trap" ハニートラップ. "The Big" ザ・ビッグ. ANAP and DIESEL KID. And strangest of all Omutsu Kēki おむつケーキ, meaning (as best as I can work out) "Diaper Cake"! Another sign further along the road suggested that all of this was a men's and women's clothing business:
The name of Temple 17, Ido-ji 井戸寺, comes from a legend that Kukai dug a well there in just one night using only his staff. It was here that I met the same woman again. Chatting with her I learned she was continuing on to Temple 18 Onzan-ji 恩山寺, then would relax at an onsen 温泉 before returning by bus to Nagoya 名古屋:
I decided to walk the 90+ minutes back to the car, which turned out to be a big mistake as the temperature had gotten very warm, and the scenery along the route back became a dreary pattern of small factories and weedy lots. Had I taken a bus like Google Maps sensibly suggested I could've been back at my car in only about 40 minutes.
An election poster for two politicians of the Japanese Communist Party 日本共産党. The JCP fields more female candidates than any of the other major parties, and its current leader Tomoko Tamura 田村智子 (the lower of the two in the poster) is a woman. In a possible career-ending revelation, were I Japanese and eligible to vote, I would probably support the JCP as I agree with many of their policies. I once lived in a city (Komae 狛江) that was run at that time by a Communist mayor, and everything still ran smoothly, down to the garbage being collected on a regular basis:
Carp swimming in a roadside canal:
At first glance it might look like the Major League Baseball logo. But then you see the "ball" is actually a hand grenade! Turn left to get to the Survival Game Field サバイバルゲームフィールド:
At one point the GPS wanted me to walk on busy highway with no sidewalks, but that wasn't going to happen. I instead took some side roads that added five minutes to my journey but was preferable to being side-swiped by a passing truck:
The car was still there when I returned to the parking lot. In all, my mini-pilgrimage took around 6½ hours + 22,343 steps to complete, all of which was undone in the evening when I had the Awa Beef Rice Set 阿波牛肉飯セット (which included Awa beef rib roast with rice 阿波牛リブロースの肉めし; an assortment of three types of seafood 海の幸３種盛り; a colorful green salad 彩りグリーンサラダ; and miso soup 味噌汁 and pickles お漬物) for dinner at a restaurant near the train station. And all for just ¥2000 ($13.60 at today's tourist-friendly exchange rates), not including the beer. Gone are the days when the world's media was obsessed with ¥10,000 muskmelons:
After dinner I celebrated with a local pale ale at a small bar in the Tokushima Station Bar Alley 徳島駅バル横丁, located in the basement inside the train station:
Five temples in one day gave me more reasons to respect what the henro devote themselves to, especially if they do the pilgrimage on foot. I would drive by henro while it was raining, when the sun was beating down, and when it was getting late in the afternoon and they were still kilometers away from the next temple, wondering where they were going to bed down for the night.
I was also impressed with the devotion shown by the pilgrims I saw at each of the temples I visited, not only the five on this day, but at the other nine on the 88-temple circuit that I would stop at during my trip. Whether they were doing the trip on foot, or by bus or car, and whether they were covering the whole route in one go or in stages, their devotion to the pilgrimage and the Daishi was evident. I don't know what were the individual reasons for undertaking the pilgrimage (I didn't ask, nor did I want to), but it was clear there was something in their lives compelling them to do so.
I also had my reasons. I'm not a Buddhist (or a Christian, Muslim or anything else, nor would I ever describe myself as "spiritual but not religious"), but if I were to devote myself to a particular faith Buddhism would be the likeliest candidate (though which sect I couldn't say), especially as to how it is practiced in Japan. In fact, I've long been fascinated with the ways in which Buddhism (an imported religion, coming to Japan via China and Korea) has adapted to coexist with the nativist Shintō 神道 beliefs (and vice versa). With every trip I've made to the country I've always made sure to find time to pay my respects at shrines and temples.
The following day, however, would be a whirlpool of activity, centered around, well...whirlpools. Stay tuned...
