• Shikoku 88 Day 14
• 67.82km cycled with 733m of elevation gain
• Overall progress: 777km of 1200km-ish, and 43 of 88 temples visited

I pulled the curtains to a thankfully fine and sunny morning! Uwajima castle seemed to open at 9am so after getting a conbini breakfast I took to the washing that hadn’t quite dried with the hotel hair dryer. Uwajima was a lovely city in sunshine, and I was grateful for the ‘slope road’ option that avoided most of the stairs up to the top of the hill where the castle was. The huge rocky walls were impressive and there were good views out to the port. It felt very hot for 9:30am and after yesterday I was keen to get on the bike, so I hustled downhill and picked up a postcard.

After a little central city riding, I turned off onto quieter roads and had a hot, winding climb before some downhill to Mima roadside station. It wasn’t technically on my route but seemed close enough I could detour. I popped in to get a stamp for the scrapbook and a sports drink and headed out again. The roads were smooth, there was no traffic or wind, and I was enjoying looking at the houses and gardens seeing snapshots of people’s lives.

Into my brain popped the idea of how bad it would be to accidentally miss a temple. Imagine being at number 40 and suddenly realising you’d forgotten 28 through some kind of mistake. Hang on… I remembered the sign back before I stopped at Mima had said the next temple was 1km away…. That was at least 10 minutes ago. A quick check confirmed I’d sailed past Temple 41 Ryūkōji 竜光寺 a while back! I was sooo relieved I’d realized when I did, and probably only added a few kilometres to my day. This temple had an officious vibe with signs everywhere – “turn off your engine, don’t idle” “don’t leave your valuables anywhere ” and a terse-ish attendant in the office. I forgot to get my booklet out of the panniers and was a bit dismayed I couldn’t really recite any of the sutras off by heart, despite having said them 80 times. It was an interesting example of Shinto and Buddhism coexisting as they did for a long time until the Meiji period and government decrees in 1868. The main entrance has a torii gate and there are stone statues of a fox (Shinto) and a Jizo (Earth Treasury — Buddhist) alongside each other.

My next temple Butsumokuji 佛木寺 wasn’t far away along lovely quiet country roads. The Japanese postal service were zipping about despite the holidays, forever reminding me of Postman Pat. They always seemed to be everywhere – even on the mountainous roads to temples in the middle of nowhere. As I was parking my bike in the cute little henro (pilgrim) hut just below the main gate, a young German guy came up to chat.

“Hey did I see you yesterday? Are you a friend of Lisa’s? I’ve only got 19 days to finish because my girlfriend is coming to visit, but there are no buses because of the holidays and everything is difficult in Golden Week. You speak Japanese? That’s so cool, I spent a month going to classes when I first arrived but it is so difficult and I have ADHD and a bit of a learning thing. Yea I can wait while you get your stuff and then we can go pray together.”

It was a bombardment but he seemed sweet so off we went together. After offering him a candle and incense to light, he waited patiently while I read the Heart Sutra aloud, and thought of Lilly, Tiggy, Poppy, Ben, Silky and Tussock. Originally Butsumokuji was where farmers prayed for the safety of their livestock, but nowadays people often pray for the pets of the present and past.

At the stamp office the smiley woman gave us vouchers for free tea, suggesting we could go together. There seemed to be an event on for the holidays with volunteers in kimono and handcrafts for sale at stalls. Justin wanted to watch the tea ceremony demonstration, but I explained I had to go over the mountain pass this afternoon and would just have the matcha with sweet and go. I realised after extricating myself that even though I sometimes worried I was going through the motions at temples, I had actually been enjoying peacefully moving solo through the rituals while taking it all in. Trying to notice what was different or unique about each one, and choose what I wanted to remember through taking photos at the end of each visit. It felt like a good realisation and I was glad Justin had helped me notice that.

The forested hills loomed but the gradient seemed nice and there was hardly any traffic. I turned a corner when something caught my eye – an inoshishi (wild boar) trotting then running along the other side of the road! It looked like Pumbaa from the Lion King! It had heard me and swerved abruptly to run up a near vertical wall. Please enjoy more terrible video footage taken after fishing my phone out of the front bag while pedalling after Pumbaa.

Not long after there was a snake on the road (possibly dead?) and a squashed giant hornet. For a brief 5 minutes it was like Japanese wild creature bingo, but after that the climb was uneventful. A kind roadworks company invited pilgrims to use their immaculate portaloo at anytime. The descent down the other side of Hanaga Pass was smooth, fast and fun.

After pushing my bike up a short sharp driveway I saw a familiar figure wandering out of Temple 43 Meisekiji 明石寺 – Andrej from Slovakia. He’d just seen a snake, and asked me how my ride in the rain was the other day. I said Ben and I had had a great time in the shelter, but my answer seemed too cheerful and he excused himself to go catch a train – despite the sunny weather today. Meisekiji was picturesque and peaceful with aged wooden buildings. 43 – I was almost halfway round!

Between me and tonight’s destination of Uchiko was a long stretch of my nemesis Route 56. A Suzuki Swift swept by a little close and I pulled over for some snacks and to steel myself (or procrastinate?!). The stealthy uphill part with no verge came to a finish though and endless strip mall type territory proved faster and more comfortable travel. My mind was empty but I was surprised to notice that bits of the Heart Sutra (which I read in Japanese) started to repeat in it.

Passing through the small city of Ōzu, I just happened to look to my left and see their cute but still majestic little castle looking over the Hijikawa River. It would’ve been a nice place to look around but I still had 12 km to go according to the road signs. After inadvertently adding another few kilometres on through a navigation file mistake, I was relieved and happy to find tonight’s guest house. It was another perfect choice by Judy – in the middle of a traditional old street, with a handful of other guests from Japan, Taiwan and Germany. The Taiwanese man explained to me he’d booked accommodation for a month for his trip with his wife, but unfortunately only booked for 1 person for the majority of the trip. I sympathised – every time I approached my accommodation for the night I desperately hoped I was in the right place on the right date, and hadn’t messed something up! Here’s what the communal space was like where we ate and hung out:

Dinner was a delicious assortment of local fare – river fish, miso and rice from nearby places, pork from the wider region, and yuzu kosho pepper paste made by grandmas in the community. Across the small table from me was a younger Japanese woman and although initially she was shy and I was tired, we got chatting about travel and the differences between Tokyo and Shikoku. The two friends next to us from Osaka were funny and the mood was jovial but low key – the perfect vibe.

When the staff member came around to check who’d like to join an optional evening tour to an old movie theatre for 600 yen, I decided to give it a go. About 7 of us walked around the corner in the dark to Asahikan which was built in 1926 or the year Taisho 15. Our tour guide explained that it’s not open to the public at the moment, and has passed through various owners over the years. He painted a picture of what it would have been like back then with tatami seating on the ground floor and stalls on the second floor we were shocked to hear up to 700 people would squeeze in for a showing. There used to be a public bath next door and bathing before or after a movie was popular. It was far from restored with a problematic drain running right through the middle of the ground floor in need of modern repairs, and the roof having been kept watertight through various efforts. A hodgepodge of stored goods from a nearby company, along with more modern but still old chairs were piled up here and there. An old projector bulb that would have shone through the film looked like something from Back to the Future, and the hand painted film posters were stunning to admire up close. Our host detailed the stark realities of trying to save heritage buildings like these, and wondered whether it would ever be enough to hold occasional nostalgic movie showings or community events. As he said sometimes people don’t treasure what they have until it’s gone. I realised until now I’d probably only visited restored or protected buildings before, and had never thought too much about the struggles involved in getting them to that point.

I was very sleepy as we wandered back to the hostel, but it had been an unexpectedly fun evening. I crawled into my bottom bunk bed and pulled the curtain, grateful for a shorter day coming up tomorrow.