Pilgrim redux

I am feeling rising anticipation as our train weaves through Osaka on our way to the beginning of our new pilgrimage walk. It is the third train since we left our accommodation (and most of our luggage) in Kyoto. Marcus is tucking into his bento box and the salarymen (business men in suits) are also snacking or working on their phones and reading reports. Nearby groups of older women are chatting away, frequently standing up to talk to the friends in the seat in front, reminding me of school girls on the bus home. The guard is walking through, checking and stamping our tickets in his very proper uniform. Everything and everyone is in the right place, “tick”.

And now we are past the city limits and the mountains are appearing, beautifully covered in various shades of green, rising steeply from the valley floor that the tracks are following with frequent tunnels as the mountains close in. My legs twitch a little as I consider the walking, climbing they will be doing, starting tomorrow.

Later…

We have arrived at the minshuku we will stay at tonight. It seems a little irreverent to be partaking in a beer at this time while these gorgeous mountains surround us and while we are preparing to walk an ancient pilgrimage, but I guess with the J-pop pumping from the speakers and the surrounding strange paraphernalia (ie a poorly taxidermied ?wolf, deer antlers, drying plums), a beer and a pilgrim is not as obscure by comparison.

The train journey was by far one of the most extraordinary I’ve ever taken. I know I’m no guy in seat 61 or Michael Portillo but I love my train travel and I have had some amazing train journeys over the years. I had to wonder if they knew about it. If you’re ever in Japan, do yourself a favour… First of all you’ll get the total Japanese train experience which is a wonder to behold (conductors in white gloves and crisp blue uniforms, precision timetabling, queuing behaviour which is close to “being on the spectrum”) but then so much more. The scenery was rather spectacular; undulating mountains covered in native forest of varying colours, terraced apple groves, rice paddies with the perfectly placed crane, rushing rivers ripe for rafting and then, to top it off, the ocean, the Pacific, with islands, and surfers, and waves and headlands. Kapow!! Also you can mix into all of that tiny glimpses of rural Japanese life; the escaped flowering wisteria on the edge of the forest, the market gardens, the bent-over farmer returning to her home pushing a small cart, and the architecture particular to homes, especially the specifically pitched black tile roofs.

Tomorrow, bright and early, we begin our short, perhaps gruelling, pilgrimage. I expect nothing more than sore muscles and wonderment.

Buen Camino/Kumano!