We have tofu. Bath is ready

Along a stretch of the Kumano Kodo, the pilgrimage route at the south of the Kii peninsula, east of Kyoto and Osaka, there is a sign indicating in the 18th century that spot was a place where there were a series of lodges or Hatago. A pilgrim wrote about staying at one and was fed dried ferns as monkeys and deer had eaten everything in the garden. The neighbouring Hatago offered the sales pitch "We have tofu. Bath is ready". One of the many quirky stories we came across as we walked this route over five days - more on this later.

Since the last posting we left Kyoto and headed for Nara. A town of about 150,000 that is a place of great Japanese historical significance. It boasts the largest Buddha statue housed in the world's largest wood building. Like so many of the temples and significant historical buildings where wood is the building material, it has burned to the ground a few times and been rebuilt. We have seen a lot of temples in just over a week but this one was impressive in scale as was the Buddha it housed. To get there from our ryokan or lodging, we had to cross a large park that was overrun by deer. Very tame deer as they were being fed by the throngs of Golden Week tourists that buy packages of biscuits sold for the purpose. They are considered sacred and judging by the very unJapanese mess they leave behind so is their excrement.

Two strong takeaways from Nara. The first was the Ryokan Matsumae or b&b we stayed in owned by a lovely zen Buddhist, calligapher, Naomi. It was located in an intimate neighbourhood with great shops and cafes. Naomi had a studio next to her small house and showed us a few calligraphy techniques. She was so zen and engaging. In the morning she and her daughter would bring breakfast to our room on trays, would pour us tea and then silently bow and leave us. Hardly a word spoken. We had our best meal yet in a restaurant recommended by Naomi who walked to it mid afternoon to ensure we could get in. The menu was all Japanese. Sue was very resourceful to come up with a strategy of Google translate and pieces of paper to mark what we wanted to order. When we left after two nights we were doing our usual trundling a kilometer plus to the train station dragging our bags over cobblestones (Briggs and Riley luggage should use us a spokespeople as we have dragged these bags everywhere) when a soft voice hailed us from behind. Naomi had tracked us down on her bike and pulled out my blue exercise ball from the basket. "Blue is my favourite colour" she informed us then gave us a slight smile and headed back home.

Second impression came from walking through the Nara National Museum. The museum consisted in mostly representations of Buddhas, bodhisattvas, scary warriors and artifacts. Buddhism baffles me. Like Christianity the core is simple and is set in motion by a solitary historical figure who preaches love and simplicity. From this a huge infrastructure evolves over centuries as we need representations and structures to hold on to. So these representations of the Buddha, from the huge one housed in the Nara temple, to all the carved and cast figures in the museum almost become like deities. Golden Week tourists (an extended bank holiday when Japanese travel) flock to these temples and light a lot of candles and burn a lot of incense in prayer to these figures. Another thought about what I saw in the museum was that these centuries old artifacts are a deep source of connection with ancestors and spiritual history for Japanese. This is in contrast to our Canadian unease, and disconnection with the first nations' artifacts that that form the history of our land.

We took the train from Nara, through Osaka, and on to Tanage. We spent the night in a grim $63 / night hostel, panicked about arranging to have our bags transported, sorted it all out and went to bed vaguely uneasy about our preparation for this pilgrimage walk. I won't go into any great detail. One rainy but warm day and the rest sunny. I read somewhere the Japanese value dappled light through trees. Saw lots of that as the route is hilly and treed. Compared to the Spanish Camino it is more dense and the walks shorter. Our longest day was about 21k, the shortest 4. But it had some real steepness. On our last day we climbed the equivalent of one and a half Grouse grinds in about 3k. A relentless step after rocky step. The path was broken up by frequent small, ancient shrines and plaques with quirky historical facts and anecdotes. There were ruins of teahouses, lodges, farms, places marking where pilgrims perished. It was deeply spiritual, historical and cultural. Like the Camino we met some wonderful pilgrims. Many Germans, Chinese, a lovely young Dutch couple. I find it is these connections and the chats over meals and beer at the inns and hostels we stayed at that are enlivening. As usual I mostly saw the backside of Sue, the Vancouver Express, as our friend Angous from the Camino called her. For me it was trying to be present to the moment and not think of how many more kilometers we had to walk or the beer I would enjoy at the end. There were moments when I succeeded and I noticed the graceful arc of the trail, the light or the bird calls. Soon replaced by an image of a cold Asahi Super Dry.

We came off the trail and bused down to Kii-Katsuura, a small fishing town. Very modest but with a cool working seaside vibe. We landed at a restaurant for dinner and lined up for about a 45 minute wait to get a table. It was a hole in the wall seating about 15 or so. Remarkable tuna that came right off the boats. The absolute blast was watching the chef and a couple of other fellows wrestle a 150kg tuna on to a surface at the front of the restaurant and proceed to clean the fish in front of us. All the patrons crowded around and in the end the chef sliced some pieces, combined them with a ball of rice and invited everyone up to have a fresh piece of nigiri. It was a fabulous time and I am struck by how the most satisfying, uniting and community building experiences are always authentic and often serendipitous.