The Shikoku Pilgrimage is unique in that it is a circle. When you finish, you are back where you started. Lots of symbolism there.
Kagawa was something else altogether. It was the smallest of the prefectures, but there were plenty of temples. 23 if you’re counting. Roughly 1/4 of the pilgrimage’s 88.
Kagawa’s journey is traditionally symbolic of entering of nirvana (涅槃 nehan).
So what was the difference in training for enlightenment (Ehime Prefecture) and training for nirvana (Kagawa)?
Let me rephrase that, What was the difference between a reality sandwich and a coin spinning so fast that both sides are visible at the same time?
No answers here, but we did learn how to make Udon noodles from scratch, and the past tense of “I’ll try my best.”
Day 29. November 5 Tuesday; Mitoyo to Udon House. 2 temples
68 Jinnein 神恵院 Kanonji, Kagawa
69 Kan’onji 観音寺 Kanonji, Kagawa
We were in for a full day. Not far to go, but lots to do.
First up was Kotohiki Park famous for its coin-shaped sand-sculpture dating to 1633 ±. It was featured in our pilgrimage book, and not far off our route, so we swung by.
From the viewing platform on the hill called Mt. Kotohiko, we could see the super-sized sculpture below. It was big. Really big. The photo below doesn’t do it justice. Those are really big trees in the photo below.
Built entirely of sand from Ariake beach, beyond. It only needs repair twice a year. And it is perspective corrected to look round. Much longer in length than width.
They say that by looking at this sand coin, you can ensure long life, and luck in money matters. Long life has yet to be determined, but shortly thereafter we did invest in Nvidia.
We had to swing back around for Temples 68 Jinnein and 69 Kan’onji. Side by side, they couldn’t be more different. 68 Jinnein is a fairly well done modern concrete box, whereas 69 Kannonji is wooden, earthy and traditional.
They begrudgingly share a temple office. A bit Hatfield – McCoys. Over centuries.
Our inn for the night was the Udon House, where we would attend a so-called master class in Udon noodles.
We arrived late morning with time to spare, before orientation, noodle history and the basics.
Why Udon noodles in Kagawa? Well, Kagawa is ground zero. If you are into Udon noodles. Kagawa is the prefecture for you.
We were just passing through, but why not?
After all, foodies make pilgrimages here just for the noodles. And that would be Sanuki Udon, thank you very much.
Square cut, firm, and supple. Main ingredients are wheat flour and salt. The ingredients take care of themselves, if you are in Kagawa. The magic is in the making.
Curiously the dough is kneaded standing on the dough. Weight is needed to develop the characteristic chewy texture of the noodles.
Next up was a farm tour.
Our farmer/host used to live in the big city but moved to Mitoya to farm. As we were digging up sweet potatoes out in the middle of his field, he and Sharon struck up a conversation about the pilgrimage. He had done it on foot in his youth. He was fast.
One thing led to another and soon they were discussing the Diamond Sutra.
The Diamond Sutra, like the Heart Sutra, is considered a core Buddhist text. Same stuff, but another angle. Essence of the essence & the world’s earliest dated printed book.
Our farmer host was a bit stunned. But Sharon was on roll, and not to be denied.
“All conditioned phenomena
Are like a dream, an illusion, a bubble, a shadow,
Like dew or a flash of lightning;
Thus we shall perceive them.”
One of my favorite moments on the pilgrimage. In the middle of a field in the middle of nowhere. Mud on my feet.
Back at the Udon house, it was time to cut up our noodles. The chopper was wicked. The dough stayed still and the chopper slid. Oh so sharp.
Sharon went a bit Latina, shaving off a couple of finger prints. Just a bit of blood. No harm, no foul.
At dinner, we had a most interesting and poignant conversation with a young Japanese woman, concerned about Japanese resources only going to the elderly, leaving little for her generation.
“What will be left for us?”
The next morning we brushed our teeth with the staff on the first floor, packed up the bike and bid a sad, reluctant farewell. It had been a fun stay and far too short. And we were missing the Udon restaurant tour included.
We could have had Udon noodles for breakfast at the best places in town, but we had a full day ahead and someone hadn’t left enough morning time in Mitoyo.
Below is a 2 minute Udon House video, which pretty much tells their tale.
Day 30. November 6 Wednesday; Bicycling Day 23; Mitoyo to Tadotsu. T70 to T78. 9 Temples
70 Motoyamaji 本山寺 Mitoyo, Kagawa
71 Iyadaniji 弥谷寺 Mitoyo, Kagawa
72 Mandaraji 曼荼羅寺 Zentsuji, Kagawa
73 Shusshakaji 出釈迦寺 Zentsūji, Kagawa
74 Kōyamaji 甲山寺 Zentsūji, Kagawa
75 Zentsūji 善通寺 Zentsūji, Kagawa Kukai’s birthplace
76 Konzōji 金倉寺 Zentsūji, Kagawa
77 Dōryūji 道隆寺 Tadotsu, Kagawa
78 Gōshōji 郷照寺 Utazu, Kagawa
Another big temple day. You’d think we’d get tired of them, but we never did. Big, small; high, low; Modern, traditional. No matter. Mostly we just didn’t have enough time to explore and appreciate each.
Our innkeeper that night at Vtangura was a widow. When her husband had died, she lost her license to serve meals and she lowered her prices to compensate. The place was hopping. It was bring your own. Microwave provided
There was a young German guy who spoke Japanese, a Japanese nun a few others.
The German was bemoaning the fall of the Berlin Wall. He was all in for full state supported study. Which had been provided in East Germany, or so said his parents.
Our landlady on hearing our mode of transport cut right to the chase,
“Don’t you argue?”.
“Well no, we worked that one out long ago. Sharon’s always right.”
Afterwards, the landlady gave me a sideways glance, and added
“I’m lonely.” I let that one go.
Day 31. November 7 Thursday; Bicycling Day 24; T79 to T83 Tadotsu to Takamatsu. 5 temples
79 Tennōji 天皇寺 Sakaide, Kagawa
80 Kokubunji 讃岐国分寺 Takamatsu, Kagawa
81 Shiromineji 白峯寺 Sakaide, Kagawa
82 Negoroji 根香寺 Takamatsu, Kagawa
83 Ichinomiyaji 一宮寺 Takamatsu, Kagawa
Japan has more than its fair share of weird creatures. Temple 82 Negoroji is, or rather was, the home of the Ushi-oni or devil cow. Some 400 years ago this Ushi-oni was terrorizing the locals. A famous archer of that day, Takakiyo, killed the beast. Some today think it might have been an orangutan. But that doesn’t explain the horns
This Ushi-oni’s horns are said to be in box in the temple. The statue stands out front below.
Temple 82 Negoroji is high and the descent was steep. Unfortunately we took the wrong fork at some point and soon found ourselves way off route, with no sensible way of retracing our steps.
As things leveled out, we pulled up next to a 6 lane expressway to regroup. We tried asking a most accommodating fellow directions. He spoke no English and even if he did it would have been a lost cause. Suspect temples weren’t a big part of his world.
We headed off along the frontage road and eventually found Temple 83 and from there our inn for the night Sasaya Ryokan.
Day 32. November 8 Friday; Bicycling Day 25; T84 Takamatsu to T88. 5 temples
84 Yashimaji 屋島寺 Takamatsu, Kagawa
85 Yakuriji 八栗寺 Takamatsu, Kagawa
86 Shidoji 志度寺 Sanuki, Kagawa
87 Nagaoji 長尾寺 Sanuki, Kagawa
88 Ōkuboji 大窪寺 Sanuki, Kagawa
We were nearing the end. Today we would reach Temple 88. The end of the pilgrimage for many. But we would continue on the following day to Temple 1 to close the loop.
Temple 84 Yashimaji was high above Takamatsu and the site of a major battle between the Heike and the Genji clans during the 12th century. We took a taxi. Fabulous views. Fabulous back story.
Temple 85 Yakuriji was high as well and had a cable car or funicular, if you were. Sharon struck up a conversation with a very entertaining monk. Out on his own, visiting temples, having fun, with no senior monks looking over his shoulder.
Temple 86 Shidoji stopped my mind. It all started innocently enough. We were wandering through the grounds admiring this and that. Especially the shrunken heavy earth moving equipment painted in pastel colors.
Sharon wanted so much to hop on start it up and drive around. I restrained her with empty promises of heavy equipment joyrides. Then again you never know. Even old dogs can learn new tricks.
Just about then a very excited elderly Japanese gentleman came running up to us. No much English, but we got his general drift. He all but pulled us along the path, and then back behind some buildings and through narrow gates. He had just finished raking the karesansui or dry landscape style garden. And wanted to show someone. We were it.
A detail below. Check out that rake work. And the focus that must have taken not to leave footprints. He was right to be proud.
This dry garden was fabulous. Not on the regular tour, but famous in its own right. A collaboration between the renowned garden designer Mirei Shigemori and the Japanese-American sculptor Isamu Noguchi. Noguchi has been one of my favorites for a while now.
One of Noguchi’s things was rocks. I attributed the character of the dry garden rocks to him. On second thought perhaps I was jumping to conclusions.
Before the dry garden, Mirei Shigemori rebuilt another garden on the temple grounds – with his own “modern twists.” This garden dates back to the 15th century. How about them rocks:
Rocks were apparently a Mirei Shigemori thing. Below is a photo from his private garden in Kyoto. On my bucket list. What more could you want?
We walked back out front to Mr. Bike. The phone rang. A call from the USA. It was our daughter-in-law.
Our son had just had a seizure. He was in the hospital, and OK-ish. She passed along that he wanted us to finish our trip. My mind stopped. The wheels spun. A Go-en moment.
Go-en means both fate and chance. Considered 2 sides of the same coin. Spin that coin fast enough and it’s Go-en.
In Buddhist speak, we’re talking dependent origination. Everything arises in dependence with other factors. We’re talking simultaneity. Nothing exists independently. Everything is interconnected. Or something like that.
You’re never going to conceptualize Go-en or explain it. But you know it when you see it. Think the guy who misses his plane which then crashes with no survivors. Call it fate. Call it destiny. Call it chance. Call it whatever you want.
A tip of the hat to the French filmmaker Emilie Berteau and her movie 88. We emailed her. & She explained the specific concept of Go-en for us, and she passed along a Japanese proverb:
Japanese “GOEN” is the spiritual expression of Relationships or Connections. Here is a famous Japanese proverb;袖触れ合うも多生の縁 (Sode hureau mo tashou no en) = ”Even a chance acquaintance is decreed by destiny.”
We pulled into Temple 88 late in the day, and parked the bike. We walked by a beautifully designed stainless glass enclosure for pilgrimage hiking staffs. Those who have finished the pilgrimage can leave them here, where they will be burned in a special ceremony, twice a year.
On closer inspection, virtually all the staffs looked hardly used.
The explanation- bus tours. It is said that upwards of 150,000 folks make the pilgrimage every year or at least “embark on the journey.” Of these, some go by car; Some motorcycle; Some public transportation; Some helicopter, but by far the biggest percentage are the chartered bus pilgrims.
By bus, they can do the pilgrimage in 2 weeks and don’t wear down their staffs. 40 pilgrims to a bus plus a priest and a guide. We learned early on, you don’t want to get stuck at a temple office behind a guide with 40 books needing stamps and calligraphies.
Perhaps only 1500 people walk the pilgrimage every year from start to finish. I am guessing a few bikes make it to all 88 temples. And then there was us. Senior USA citizens on a tandem.
As we entered the Temple proper, there was a Japanese guide holding forth to a group of what looked like extremely wealthy Japanese businessmen. Perhaps a pilgrimage highlights limo tour?
Finding our inn was easy. It was across the street.
Day 33. November 9 Saturday; Last Bicycling Day 26 T88 to Tokushima. 1 temple
T1 Ryōzen-ji 霊山寺 Tokushima
We slept well. A hot soak, good food, and good company will do that.
We were pretty much done. Or so we thought.
I went out to load up the bike for our last riding day. A tire was flat and it was cold. Like put-on-everything-we-brought cold.
Within the first mile we had a monkey dancing down the road in front of us. Curiously archetypal. In these parts, monkeys are messengers of the old Gods.
As we descended, mists were rising from the rice fields.
We had a climb back up and over to Tokushima. Back in the day there had a guarded check point here between prefectures. Today it’s a back road which crests up and over.
I vaguely remember a small sign indicating the remains of a long gone guard post, up a foot path, up the hill to the right. Though that could be a false memory. In any case we pushed on. No traffic. We were far off the beaten track.
I do remember quite vividly a very small unassuming Shinto Torii gate indicating a local spirit who dwelt thereabouts.
The descent to Tokushima was easy and quick. In no time we were back at Temple #1 Ryōzen-ji.
The Koi were still lolling about. We paid our respects and headed to the temple office. A new stamp and a new calligraphy was added at the end of each of our books. See below.
The best I’ve been able to sort it out, this last calligraphy gives the temple name, the date, confirmation that the pilgrimage was completed and a comment to the effect that “The Buddhist practice you’ve longed for since your previous life has been fulfilled perfectly”. At least, that’s how a monk explained it to someone else.
We had learned the concept of trying your best throughout the pilgrimage. Folks, usually bus pilgrims at temples, would take a look at us and our bike and say “Ganbatte.” Which translates roughly as “Hang in there” and/or “Don’t give up.”
Our response, was the traditional, “Ganbarimasu.” I will do my best.
During my conversation with the perhaps-monk working on my book that day at Ryōzen-ji, I said “Ganbarimasu.” Meaning “I do my best.”
He corrected me, “Ganbarimashita.” Past tense. Meaning “I did my best”
Emphasis on the past. We were done. It was official.
From Ryōzen-ji, it was a short familiar ride to our inn, Morimoto-ya. Like coming home. Which it was. Morimoto-ya was our home-away-from-home. Mimasan, the proprietress, had picked us up at the airport, stored our luggage, waved goodbye when we took off in the typhoon, and sent us re-supplies when we were on the road.
We pulled in, stashed the bike, took a hot soak and kicked back. Mimasan had cooked us a special dinner in celebration of our return. We even got our own table and our own dining space just off the main dining area, where several pilgrims were already eating.
They were curious about our special treatment. Mimasan:
“They just finished the pilgrimage, on a tandem bike! And they did it all in only 21 days!”
An exaggeration which we didn’t correct. It was her story and she was sticking to it.
Day 34. November 10 Sunday; Bike Packing Day.
Mimasan was a bundle of energy. She ran the inn. Kept her family in line. Had a side company making candles in the mountains, and was a dancer. She might play a couple of musical instruments too, I don’t remember exactly, but it would be completely in character.
Not surprisingly, She and Sharon became buds. So when she wondered if Sharon might like to go see the recycling center, Sharon was on it. Off they sped in Mimasan’s micro van.
Did I mention that Mimasan drove fast?
I slowly packed up the tandem out front. An elderly bonzai-tree type gardener was trimming up a remarkable limb overhanging the entrance, near where I was doing my packing thing. An elderly woman came out of the inn walked over to the outdoor vending machine next to me.
She bought a can of something or other and brought it over to him. I don’t remember any words being exchanged. It was a slow dance.
Sharon had a great time at the recycling center. Mimasan wanted to know if we were up for conveyor belt sushi. But of course.
We sped off. The establishment was in a mall. Like any mall anywhere.
You could order your sushi off a tablet or just grab one off the conveyor belt running by the table. Bill was figured up afterwards from the color coded pile of dishes. We had a tasty great time. And a very high pile of dishes.
Day 35. November 11 Monday; Buffer Day; 1 Temple
T5 Jizō-ji 大日寺 Tokushima
To my credit I had scheduled a buffer day. An extra day to absorb planning snafus or whatever. We were all caught up, so we asked Mimasan for ideas.
“Well, you could walk up the hill to Jizō Temple. There’s a lot there”
Yes. Deja vu and a whole lot more.
Our first visit was about a month ago. It had been raining. We were disoriented and in a rush. A woman in the temple office had saved us. We stopped in to give her our regards.
She was pleased that we had made it and survived. Suspect she was a bit surprised, but she never let on. Since we had time on our hands, she suggested we visit the 200 Arhats who had their own temple building up the hill,
Arhats are disciples of the Buddha, who have attained the highest level of ascetic practice.They are considered to be protectors of the teachings and could use magical powers to assist the faithful. Often portrayed with individualized facial expressions, suggestive of an extreme ascetic lifestyles and honored as examples of the individual spiritual quest.
The Arhat hall was musty, modest and magical. These Arhats were life-size. A bit worn for wear, but after all they are well over 200 years old and hadn’t led easy lives. Some had travelled all the way from China.
They found a home here in 1775, when two temple priests (brothers) built them a hall. All was well until 1915 when a careless visitor started a fire and burned the hall down. 300 Arhat brothers were lost. The current hall was built in 1922, and today’s 200 Arhats moved back in.
These guys are survivors.
Today Jizō Temple, feels modest, but it wasn’t always so. It has a history and then some. Game of Thrones stuff.
Things started with a bang in 821 when Emperor Saga ordered Kukai to found the temple. Emperor Saga and subsequent emperors and warlords provided the support to make Jizō Temple an extraordinary extended world on Shikoku.
At its height, Jizō Temple had more than 300 branch temples. On this site alone there were 26 pagodas. All long gone now.
So what made Jizō Temple so special that emperors and warlords would become patrons?
That would be Shogun Jizō.
Jizō is an important Bodhisattva or “Saint” in the mainstream Buddhist tradition. Primarily known today as a protector of children and travelers. A typical Jizō is depicted as peaceful, and highly likable. Almost cuddly.
Then there is the dark side of days gone by: Shogun Jizō. Victorious Jizō, Protector of Warriors. In battle, he’d take a hit for you. Help you prevail. A battle-field protector.
The monks of the old Jizō Temple weren’t warrior monks, but monks who gave magic to warriors.
This being Shingon, there were secret transmissions, visualizations, mantras and mandalas. A secret doctrine for those who could pay the price.
Today’s Shogun Jizō is described as a much nicer guy. He drives out wrongdoers and prevents disasters.
After our self-guided tour of the Arhat Hall, I was in a contemplative mood. We wandered back down the hill. I sat down on the stairs to admire the view. Temple on the left. Graveyard on the right. Path descending between the two. Town and Mountains beyond. Photo below pretty much says it all.
So what would be next?
That would be Covid. The first cases were already in Japan, but we escaped unscathed.
Four months later at the height of Covid panic, we would be walking through empty airports on our way to Florida to help out family. Again we emerged unscathed.
Dumb luck, or fate? Or both at once? Go-en. The coin spins.
Advencha before Dementia 