Day 15: Mount Koya and the new plan
Today was my last idle day on Osaka. The weather is slowly falling, and the intense humidity that strangled the city, making 32C feel like 42C, is subsiding.
I have enjoyed my time in Osaka immensely, and made a great friend in Takanori in the process. But I can't stay forever. I still plan to reach Tokyo by foot before the end of November, just not on the route I originally and painstakingly researched.
Instead, I have chosen to alter my route to trace the Edo era road that connected Osaka and Tokyo (then called Edo) that runs predominantly through lowlands and the southern coast.
This new route is about 2/3rds the length of my previous one, clocking in at about 600km, and will follow far more urban routes, with less stints into the wilderness than originally planned.
This change in route is a response to the condition on my right knee, strained before I left Canada, and further aggravated in the mountains outside of Osaka. I could have chosen to stubbornly throw myself back at the mountain route and ignore the pain in my knee, but that would only risky further and possible permanent injury for no reason.
So instead I will follow the coast and take a route that I will enjoy, as there is nothing here for me to be proven by destroying my only good leg.
Tomorrow morning I will leave and set out in the direction of of Kyoto, and expect to reach it comfortably in three days. Well, maybe not entirely comfortably...
Since today was my last day to explore around Osaka without carrying my pack with me, I decided to set out south for Mount Koya, home to numerous Buddhist monasteries on the top of the mountain.
The journey to reach the mountain was taken by train, and took a little over two hours, culminating in a cable car ride to near the top of the mountain.
I knew before leaving that the option to buy a bus ticket from the cable car station in to koyasan was there, but I wanted to enjoy the mountain hike instead, as there looked to be a small pathway on Google maps I could take.
Arriving at about 2pm, as I slept later than I should, I discovered that the short 1km hiking path was in actual fact a narrow 'bus only' road, and I would have to take the longer mountain road around instead.
So I set out, in the heat of the day and walked along the longer mountain road.
At first I was concerned for traffic on this tiny road, but after the first kilometre it became clear that this road saw very little use and I was in no danger.
The hike was perfect. The mountain air was refreshing, clean and slightly cool from the altitude. The views from the breaks in the trees to the mountains beyond delighted me at each bend in the road.
Eventually the road connected with a a road that was puzzlingly both busier and narrower at the same time. Two way traffic had to squeeze by in thin sections hardly wide enough for both, let alone with me rambling along the narrow shoulder.
Thankfully this stretch was not more than 700 meters, which I trotted along at a brisk pace. Making it to the end, I was greeted with the gate to Koyasan, and it confirmed I had made the right choice in walking.
It was a little before 3pm at this point, and it was clear that my late start to the day was going to make this visit more challenging. Koyasan is packed with world heritage temples and wonderful sights, but it is not compact, stretching many kilometres along the peak of the mountain.
My main goal was to reach the Kobo Daishi Mausoleum at the far end of Koyasan, passing through the ancient Okunoin Cemetery. It was about 4km to the mausoleum from the first gate, plus the 4km for the return trip, then another 3.5km back through the mountain road to the cable car.
If I didn't want to get caught on that unlit mountain road after dark I would have to move briskly, and so I did.
Moving through Koyasan at a brisk walk was challenging enough, flanked on both sides by one magnificent Buddhist temple after another. However keeping pace through Okunoin Cemetery was much harder.
I did not know what to expect from the cemetery, other than it wasn't the type of cemetery where bodies are buried. Takanori had told me that this place is where markers are placed, and that to have a marker here is an extreme honour, with many historic figures having makers here. Seeing the place was nothing short of magnificent.
The path through the cemetery stretched for a few kilometres, lined with thousands of makers and wrapped in towering trees. Some markers were clearly newly fashioned while others were centuries old.
I arrived at the mausoleum with a few minutes to spare before the closed for the evening. I made a small prayer and collected a Goshuin, then hastily retraced my steps back towards the mountain road.
By the time I returned to the gate where I entered Koyasan it was bathed in the warm glow of sunset, and while that beauty dazzled the other tourists, it concerned me greatly.
I headed back along the mountain road, now all but devoid of cars with Koyasan's temples and shops all closed for the night. The spectacular mountain views I had been treated to on my hike in were now gorgeous sunset scenes.
But with each fantastic break in the trees the sun sank lower and dusk fell quickly.
I had not planned to be out late, and did not bring my headlamp, nor did I like the prospect of fumbling along the mountain road with only my phone's flashlight to guide me. So my pace quickened once again. But with all my haste through the day, with no stops for rest, I had chaffed my legs pretty strongly and each step became a rather sore and painful affair.
Regardless of that pain the light would not last much longer, so I pushed forward knowing I was no more than a kilometre away from the cable car station.
As I passed through the last tunnel and rounded the corner, a soft glow appeared as the envelope of night closed in on that little road.
Happily I strode into the station and onto the waiting cable car, only to sit down and feel the full pain of my chafing.
As I sit here writing to you now on one of the many trains back home for the night, I do not look forward to tomorrow.
I do not look forward to leaving banana hammock, I do not look forward to saying goodbye to my new friend Takanori. I do not look forward to to 18km of discomfort that I have brought upon myself.
But, this won't be the last time I find myself faced with this challenge, so best to start adapting now!
Tomorrow I set out towards Kyoto!
I have enjoyed my time in Osaka immensely, and made a great friend in Takanori in the process. But I can't stay forever. I still plan to reach Tokyo by foot before the end of November, just not on the route I originally and painstakingly researched.
Instead, I have chosen to alter my route to trace the Edo era road that connected Osaka and Tokyo (then called Edo) that runs predominantly through lowlands and the southern coast.
This new route is about 2/3rds the length of my previous one, clocking in at about 600km, and will follow far more urban routes, with less stints into the wilderness than originally planned.
This change in route is a response to the condition on my right knee, strained before I left Canada, and further aggravated in the mountains outside of Osaka. I could have chosen to stubbornly throw myself back at the mountain route and ignore the pain in my knee, but that would only risky further and possible permanent injury for no reason.
So instead I will follow the coast and take a route that I will enjoy, as there is nothing here for me to be proven by destroying my only good leg.
Tomorrow morning I will leave and set out in the direction of of Kyoto, and expect to reach it comfortably in three days. Well, maybe not entirely comfortably...
Since today was my last day to explore around Osaka without carrying my pack with me, I decided to set out south for Mount Koya, home to numerous Buddhist monasteries on the top of the mountain.
The journey to reach the mountain was taken by train, and took a little over two hours, culminating in a cable car ride to near the top of the mountain.
I knew before leaving that the option to buy a bus ticket from the cable car station in to koyasan was there, but I wanted to enjoy the mountain hike instead, as there looked to be a small pathway on Google maps I could take.
Arriving at about 2pm, as I slept later than I should, I discovered that the short 1km hiking path was in actual fact a narrow 'bus only' road, and I would have to take the longer mountain road around instead.
So I set out, in the heat of the day and walked along the longer mountain road.
At first I was concerned for traffic on this tiny road, but after the first kilometre it became clear that this road saw very little use and I was in no danger.
The hike was perfect. The mountain air was refreshing, clean and slightly cool from the altitude. The views from the breaks in the trees to the mountains beyond delighted me at each bend in the road.
Eventually the road connected with a a road that was puzzlingly both busier and narrower at the same time. Two way traffic had to squeeze by in thin sections hardly wide enough for both, let alone with me rambling along the narrow shoulder.
Suddenly my safety seems less certain.
Thankfully this stretch was not more than 700 meters, which I trotted along at a brisk pace. Making it to the end, I was greeted with the gate to Koyasan, and it confirmed I had made the right choice in walking.
It was a little before 3pm at this point, and it was clear that my late start to the day was going to make this visit more challenging. Koyasan is packed with world heritage temples and wonderful sights, but it is not compact, stretching many kilometres along the peak of the mountain.
My main goal was to reach the Kobo Daishi Mausoleum at the far end of Koyasan, passing through the ancient Okunoin Cemetery. It was about 4km to the mausoleum from the first gate, plus the 4km for the return trip, then another 3.5km back through the mountain road to the cable car.
If I didn't want to get caught on that unlit mountain road after dark I would have to move briskly, and so I did.
Moving through Koyasan at a brisk walk was challenging enough, flanked on both sides by one magnificent Buddhist temple after another. However keeping pace through Okunoin Cemetery was much harder.
I did not know what to expect from the cemetery, other than it wasn't the type of cemetery where bodies are buried. Takanori had told me that this place is where markers are placed, and that to have a marker here is an extreme honour, with many historic figures having makers here. Seeing the place was nothing short of magnificent.
The path through the cemetery stretched for a few kilometres, lined with thousands of makers and wrapped in towering trees. Some markers were clearly newly fashioned while others were centuries old.
I arrived at the mausoleum with a few minutes to spare before the closed for the evening. I made a small prayer and collected a Goshuin, then hastily retraced my steps back towards the mountain road.
By the time I returned to the gate where I entered Koyasan it was bathed in the warm glow of sunset, and while that beauty dazzled the other tourists, it concerned me greatly.
I headed back along the mountain road, now all but devoid of cars with Koyasan's temples and shops all closed for the night. The spectacular mountain views I had been treated to on my hike in were now gorgeous sunset scenes.
But with each fantastic break in the trees the sun sank lower and dusk fell quickly.
I had not planned to be out late, and did not bring my headlamp, nor did I like the prospect of fumbling along the mountain road with only my phone's flashlight to guide me. So my pace quickened once again. But with all my haste through the day, with no stops for rest, I had chaffed my legs pretty strongly and each step became a rather sore and painful affair.
Regardless of that pain the light would not last much longer, so I pushed forward knowing I was no more than a kilometre away from the cable car station.
As I passed through the last tunnel and rounded the corner, a soft glow appeared as the envelope of night closed in on that little road.
Happily I strode into the station and onto the waiting cable car, only to sit down and feel the full pain of my chafing.
As I sit here writing to you now on one of the many trains back home for the night, I do not look forward to tomorrow.
I do not look forward to leaving banana hammock, I do not look forward to saying goodbye to my new friend Takanori. I do not look forward to to 18km of discomfort that I have brought upon myself.
But, this won't be the last time I find myself faced with this challenge, so best to start adapting now!
Tomorrow I set out towards Kyoto!
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