Tokyo
In May 2024 we set off for three weeks in Japan with a rough itinerary of loosely visiting the Shikoku eighty eight temple pilgrimage while also retracing some of the steps of the characters from Haruki Murukami's Kafka on the Shore.
After a straightforward flight to Narita airport we were booked for two nights in Tokyo in a Toyoko Inn (our favoured business hotel) in Shinjuku. On our second night we met our lovely friends Chizuko and Toshi who kindly took us to dinner. The next day we picked up a car and headed off on a road trip, and, taking the long way around, we found our way over three days to Tokushima in Shikoku.
This trip was not about Tokyo, as we had been there for a week the year previously. We both love Tokyo as a place to be, but a short visit can not do it justice and so we decided to stay there only briefly at either end of our trip. We did have time, of course, to visit the central haven of the Maruzen book store above the cavernous underground halls of Tokyo station 🎥**. There is both a nostalgic and current pleasure in browsing and buying books in the English book section on the top floor, followed by tea and cake in the adjacent café.
**🎥 = click for video
The Toyota Rental Car depot was an easy walk from the hotel and after a shaky start (I had left the Google Maps pedestrian setting on my phone, rather than the vehicle one, which lead to some interesting driving suggestions) I drove to the hotel where we would begin our trip. Despite many previous visits this was only the second time I had driven in Japan and a first in Tokyo. Of course the driving was very orderly and straightforward, what else would we expect? Of surprise over the next weeks, however, was the random adherence to speed limits.
On the road
We took three days to drive to Shikoku, heading northwest through extremely mountainous countryside. Poorly mimicking the trip from Tokyo taken by Kafka Tamura in the book, we chose to drive on expressways until we were clear of urban sprawl. To our surprise the expressways provided beautiful views quite soon, including glimpses of Fujisan. We also experienced our first michinoeki, essentially a food court with souvenir shops.
Our first night was in the picturesque tourist town of Takayama. Next day there were many tunnels and steep climbs and signs of winter ski resorts. At the end of one particularly long tunnel we came out on the Sea of Japan. Rather than heading west to the presidentially named Obama, we cut south to the shores of Lake Biwa where, wrongly, we felt assured accommodation would be easy. Ending up in heavy traffic in pursuit of beds, we exited to Otsu and found a tired, 1960s style hotel with an elevator parking garage and a Buddhist cemetery and railway track as a view (much better than it sounds as we could also see the lake). The benefit of these old rooms is that they are inevitably more spacious.
The next day, after a strange, for me, drive through the centre of Kyoto, past all the beautiful temples and other landmarks without stopping, we traversed the expansive bridges leading into the east of Shikoku and arrived at our only pre-booked accommodation out of Tokyo, the PAQ Hostel in Tokushima.
The hostel turned out to be a great choice. We had our own room but the capacity to mingle with others in the common room. Among others we met a young guy from Australia who had taken advantage of cheap flights and a mother and daughter, the Haufs, from Germany. Tokushima itself was not much. We ate at places around the nearby railway station and on one of the rare rainy days we went to the movies and were the only ones in the theatre, for good cause. It was a terrible film.
88 Sutras
On our first day in Tokushima we headed out to visit the reason we had chosen Tokushima as our starting point, even though Kafka Tamura had alighted from his bus in Takamatsu. The start of the Shikoku 88 temple pilgrimage. Temple # 1 was Ryozenji where we bravely avoided collecting all the henro paraphenalia, the hats, jackets, sticks, bags and bells, buying only the guidebook containing useful maps and the text of the heart sutra in Japanese and English. The temple grounds also had some interesting sights. 🎥
The drill was to approach the temple in the required manner, washing hands and mouth, and to recite, at the least, the Heart Sutra. For bonus merit, the mantra of the local Bodhisattva was also intoned. After paying our respects at Ryozenji, and travelling by the modern day accepted means of a car rather than the traditional foot, we repeated this at the next four temples, all within Tokushima, and then called it a day. But a good day.
The next field trip was through the hills and on winding backroads to Takamatsu to visit the building that Murukami's Komura Memorial Library in the novel was based on, actually a small but interesting museum. On a tip from one of the curators we then had lunch at an Udon restaurant that looked like a run down barn, with stone floors, communal tables and a steaming vat for boiling the udon. The food was delicious.
On our way back to Tokushima we paid homage to Kafka by way of a drive by the bus and railway station (where he had arrived from Tokyo on a bus, meeting Sakura on the way) before expresswaying back to the hostel.
Chasing Kūkai
While in Tokushima we picked an Air B&B at random not too far down the coast at what turned out to be a beachside fishing village and holiday resort named Shirahama. The coastal views heading there were spectacular. At one stop to admire the view a creature came out onto the road. I think it might have been a Tanuki 🎥. Arriving at our accommodation too early, we carried on down the coast to the end of the cape to visit the caves where Kūkai achieved his enlightenment.🎥
The caves were metres from the rocky shore and the waves pounding over rocks to make rockpools. It was easy to imagine Kūkai living in one of the twin caves, meditating in the other and washing and exercising down by this shore. Both of us found it quite moving even though, objectively, it was less than spectacular.
A velvet blue sea
White sea foam soothing grey rocks
Depths made visible
In our travels we have criss-crossed Kūkai's wanderings, and he has even provided a name for a very useful walking stick. We have separately visited Koyasan, the monastery town he established and where his corpse awaits resurrection, and it is his footsteps that the henro follow as they make their way around the temples of Shikoku. I had also inadvertently recently ventured into the school of Buddhism he favoured, making this trip even more meaningful for me.
Back in Shirahama our accommodation was in beach huts clearly designed for holiday makers, probably surfers, as this seemed to be the predominant recreational activity on this coast. This suited us nicely as it reflected the location and activity of one of the Kafka characters. We also explored the mountains around, driving on narrow, single lane roads high up to a temple by some, apparently, spectacular waterfalls that due to flights of steps too many went unseen by both of us. The village we stayed in itself was serene and extremely compact with houses crammed in against the harbour where the small fishing vessels sat. On our last night we had the pleasure of a huge fireworks display across the bay on the nearby island, Takegashima.
Mountain Hideaway
There were no lost soldiers in the forest, at least that we found, but in all other respects this could have been Kafka's cabin in the woods. Limited to two nights because it was booked up, we escaped to the highlands after a brief stop in Kochi and then a curving, precipitous drive through, literally, as there were lots of tunnels, and up the mountains. There were rice terraces and deep river valleys, the geography clearly explaining why so much of Japan's interior is lightly populated.
In Kochi we had visited an Aeon mall, flooded with restaurants, shops and a supermarket where we stocked up on food for our few days in the mountains. Not mentioned yet, surprisingly, are the convenience stores. They were a staple for our breakfasts in urban areas and, baffled by choice in the Aeon supermarket, we finished our supply shopping at a Lawson where we knew where everything was. Our usual morning purchases consisted of maple syrup pancakes, coffee and custard buns, sometimes consumed on the premises if there was a section with tables 🎥. Wine and snacks were also gathered and hunted at combinis and these ubiquitous stores were also used for withdrawing cash and depositing, well, you know, those things that need depositing at road side stops.
Our mountain cabin was in fact a complete farmhouse in a chalet style with exposed wooden beams and a deck overlooking the hills. Alongside was the, no doubt, original house with tatami rooms, a tokonoma and a fire pit with a hook for a kettle to hang over it. 🎥 We saw no one else there or around. I have a strange affection for modern Japanese kitchens and stoves, probably a throw back to my childhood, and so I enjoyed playing house here in the mountains.
Mountains to Sea
From our cabin in the woods in the cutely named locality of Kamiyakawakamibun we descended, again passing through enormously long tunnels, until we came out to the urban areas around Matsuyama. We saw families and couples, dressed casually and going into restaurants for Saturday lunch. We seemed to be always on the backroads, sometimes driving along the stopbanks with rice fields on either side. Many of the streets my phone guided us down were so narrow you could almost touch the houses on either side as you drove by.
Before leaving the island, and as a final homage, we stopped at temple 55 (an auspicious number for me), Nankobo, where we said the Heart Sutra alongside weekend pilgrims in cars and had our photos taken by the statue of our companion Kūkai.
The drive off the island was spectacular with yet another perfect, clear day and wonderful views of the islands and inlets as we made our way across equally picturesque bridges to the mainland. Streams of cyclists rode alongside on the cycleways.🎥
We were sorry to leave Shikoku. The island has a special quality about it, very peaceful and calming. The mainland looked outwardly the same, but somehow felt very different. A quality hard to pinpoint, but felt deeply nevertheless.
Our destination was Kurashiki, and the well appointed and well priced One Five Garden hotel where we had stayed en famille in 2023. No high teas this time. Instead, our dinner was at a small curry house after I had cruelly dragged Rosemary all around the station vicinity to look for somewhere suitable to eat in this singularly tourist town.
We explored the old part of town that tourists like us come for. 🎥 It is still delightful and provides a vision of what this old trading town might have been like, but without the smells, the class system and the constant threat of fire. There were many buildings with charred cedar cladding that, along with airtight windows and doors, had reduced the chance of fire spreading to the valuable goods stored inside.
"Hi, can I have my fire insurance premiums reduced please? Why? Because I've already set fire to my house. Hello? Hello...?"
On our final day we drove the short distance to Okayama to a shopping precinct where we had lunch at an okonomiyaki restaurant the size of a billiard table, just enough to accommodate us, the grill and the chef. There was a TV, a small fridge and enough chairs for more people though god knows how they would have fitted in. 🎥
The Short Road Home
The trip back to Tokyo was entirely by expressway through the very industrial heart of Japan. We were driving from Kurashiki to Tokyo with one stop, yet to be determined. En route we experienced some of the heaviest rain I have seen, barely able to see through the windscreen. It was too much for one Mercedes that we passed, severly crumpled, after we had crawled in traffic for some time due to the congestion its demise had caused. As the day progressed, we exited the expressway to find some beds.
After a mistaken stop at a Love Hotel, the whole place eerily discreet and completely automated, we ended up at our old favourite, a Toyoko Inn, this time in Yokkaichi where Rosemary's mother had disembarked from a cargo ship in the early 1970s. I walked the streets as business people began their night of revelry which, by the singing and yelling in the alley outside our hotel, clearly went on till the small hours. Karaoke never stops apparently. Nor do the crows 🎥
I was fascinated by the drive into Tokyo where we were elevated by the expressway and drove past offices and apartment buildings many floors up. The road became labyrinthine, with offramps and onramps and twists and turns so that we only found our way because we were slowed by traffic enough to consult Google Maps at every turn. A degree was needed to interpret the roadsigns. 🎥 I could imagine an endless drive, becoming increasingly lost until running out of petrol and needing to climb down the emergency stairs and risking a time warp a la 1Q84 (more Murukami I'm afraid).
We checked into the APA Sengakuji-Ekimae and I drove the car back to Toyota Car Rentals. It was located on the backstreets on a hill above Shinagawa station that I navigated so poorly that I ended up having to back down tiny roads that had turned into private driveways. There was something essentially Tokyo about these backstreets. Minutes from one of the busiest stations in the world and massive construction sites were these tiny, quiet, peaceful streets leading to gardened embassy residences and houses for the wealthy.
The next night we had a lovely dinner at an izakaya, again hosted by the generous and kind Chizuko and Toshi. It was so good to have friends in Tokyo, a perfect end to a wonderful trip. On our last day, with time to kill, we completed the full circle of the Yamanote line, confusing the guards at the exit gate as, apparently, it is a transport system and not an amusement ride. Then a slow train took us out to Narita for the journey home. I did not know at the time but the train we took would be my staple commute in a few months time. But that's another story.
I have to mention one of the unmentioned stars of this trip, the fire engine red, carbon fibre walker named Rolly. Rolly apparently helped Rosemary get about from time to time but its real use came with air travel. Better than a diplomatic passport or a First Class ticket, Rolly got us to the front of queues and on and off planes in priority. If you wish to enjoy this unsurpassed luxury in travel then I know someone who would willingly be your companion. As long as you are going to Japan.
Until our next trip to Japan...