CAMINO MOZARABE : Almeria to Granada 1.

It’s been 5 years since I was on a Camino to Santiago- 5 years since I walked the Camino Mozarabe from Malaga to Mérida. Myself and Sally clocked up the pilgrim credits on the Kumano Kodo in Japan in November and gained dual pilgrim status for our efforts but being back in Southern Spain we couldn’t resist another ramble on the Mozarabe. This time starting in Almeria, the dry warm southeastern corner of Andalucia.

The route would take us, in 9 or 10 stages, 200 km northwest around the back of the Sierra Nevada to Guadix and Southwest from there to Granada. We would go from sea level up to between 1000 and 1400 m for 100 km.

And we chose the freak weather event of Storm Gloria to start in. There was death and destruction across a great swathe of eastern and southern Spain as we drove through the rain from Malaga. By Motril, 100km east, we were under blue skies. Arriving in Almeria we met up with the wonderful Nely, one of the Camino Angels and member of the Association that looks after the signage, albergues and everything else connected to the promotion of this Mozarabe route.

She showed us where we could safely leave the camper for 10 days then gave us our pilgrim passports for the route stamps and insisted on driving us to the cathedral and the Alcazaba the imposing fortress built by the moors over 1000 years ago.

Next morning we set off down the sea front past the Eiffel designed rail bridge for the couple of km to the cathedral where we got our credentials first stamp of the Camino as mass was given under the fine ornate construction.

And so the long trek out of the city began. The Association had done great work marking the route and we were never left wondering which way to go as we followed a variety of symbols.

We stopped for coffee after about 8km in Huercal and soon after ,with the temperature rising under the blue skies, we passed under the AP7 coastal motorway and headed off on a more rough and ready route- the dry riverbed.

Leaving it only briefly at the old Arab capital of Pechina the riverbed took us all the way to our bed for the night after 21 km, at Rioja, in a wonderful little Association albergue ,decorated with pilgrim floor mosaics, adjoining the municipal swimming pool.

A leaflet there talked about a geological walk from there so we had a look, hiking under the motorway again to a forgotten and sad little picnic park set among some eroding sandstone cliffs.

Day 2 – Rioja to Albodoluy 25.5 km

We were blessed again with dry weather overnight and as we set off under a mixed sky of pale predawn milky blue and darker clouds over the mountains to the east, we had our fingers crossed that the awful weather suffered elsewhere would not come this way. A small road beside and above the river led us to Santa Fe de Mondújar passed some old cortijos that had seen better times.

Things improved in Santa Fe where we stopped for coffee and tostada in the charming square before heading off, finally, into wild country, with wide open vistas, rough paths, riverbeds and the desert like Badlands around Alhabia where we stopped for a tapas lunch after 16 km.

Another 8 km ( according to my Garmin GPS which seems to disagree with other sources of information) of track beside and on riverbed passing a wealth of rich fertile lushly irrigated gardens and orchards and we turned into a huge cleft in the hills to encounter Albodoluy, our destination for the night.

Another lovely Association albergue awaited us, with seriously hot water in the shower(s!) and a fine kitchen. Again, we had the place to ourselves. The last folk went through a few days ago and it’s pretty quiet at this time of year.

Tomorrow is a big one. At least 29 km but I’d say my GPS will say 33 km. And it’s uphill all the way.

With a big lump near the start. And rain forecast. And snow at the top.

Walkabout 2 : Back to the Bibbulmun

7 years ago I wrote about a 10 day /200km hike we’d done in the forests of Western Australia on a wonderful track that goes all the way from Perth to the south coast. We had walked from Kalamunda, at the start, to the next trail town of Dwellingup and had loved the experience. Back in Oz we were determined to do another stretch of the 960km Bibbulmun Track but after completing the Cape to Cape time available was running short.

We decided to do a shorter stage of 4 days / 3 nights from Collie to Balingup missing out a 7 day section. There is usually no food available on the stages/sections, you’re way out in the bush miles from “civilization”, so you have to carry everything with you- which needs careful planning. On this leg we were going to cross a road after a day and a half where there was a tavern serving food so we scheduled a slap up feed around that. Even so our packs were heavy setting off from Collie.

Collie was and is a coal mining town, unlike many in the area that were founded on the logging industry, and had a couple of facilities we enjoyed- a swimming pool to cool off in and a cutting edge art gallery, where we were invited to an opening of a show of portraits.

Nice people, nice wine, nice nibbles.


An early self service breakfast at our historic old hotel of well faded grandeur allowed us to get on the way soon after 6, passing both the fire danger level sign and a notice saying that it is not recommended to be on the track at all between December and end of March and if you are, to leave it in the event of a fire risk of “high” or above.

We were “severe”. Slightly worrying. We’d been watching the infernos in NSW on the news with 1000’s of hectares of bush and 100’s of houses burning and Sydney an impenetrable smog. A lot of talk and denial of the increased severity being connected to climate change and also the need to manage prescribed or controlled fires better.

We were soon enveloped within the forest, the sights and sounds and scents taking us back years to our last Bibbulmun immersion, as we followed the yellow ” Waugal” symbol deeper into the immensity of Western Australian bush. We had enjoyed the Karri forest section on the Cape to Cape but the feeling of being a tiny dot making your slow way through mile upon mile upon mile of mixed Jarrah,Wandoo, Marri and a host of other tree and scrub species is special.

The easy path and flat ground made for a good rhythm of fast walking and we made good time to Collie river where it was too early for a swim and a 4×4 access track had allowed messers to travel down and defile the place with their fast food crap. Always a shocking jolt of a sight in deep country we hurried on past the cartons and bags to where the ethos of “leave no trace” was important to the people passing through.

As the temperature built we passed Mungalup Dam, where unfortunately no swimming was allowed as it was a drinking water supply. Other dams were for agricultural use and allowed not only swimming but all kinds of boating including with outboard motors. A web of old logging tracks crisscrossed our path through the forest with the scattered trunks and stumps witnesses to a huge industry that started with the arrival of Europeans and peaked around the First World War, although continuing to a lesser degree into the 1980’s.

The regenerative powers of the Jarrah were good to see. Areas that had been clear felled were returning to high forest again.

It was difficult to imagine the track in winter or spring when rains made stepping logs necessary and the creek systems were full of flowing water. There was however a little shower forecast and a couple of drops did manage to hit the ground without evaporating before we got to Yabberup camp after 20km.

These shelters, erected about every 20km, are a wonderful resource. They offer sleeping platforms, fire pits (in season), long drop dunny( always with toilet paper!), tables and benches and most importantly, water. They also have cleared and level tent pitches although there’s a very good chance that in summer you’ll have plenty of hut sleeping space and can avoid having to carry a tent and the less you have to carry the better. As luck would have it there were a couple of showers once we were safe under cover and we spent the afternoon reading the entries in the camp log book and listening to the bird song.

After a much more comfortable night on a new leakfree sleeping mat we set off again through the much burned landscape.

I’d been reading a bit on the use of fire in landscape or country ” management” by the Aboriginal people for tens of thousands of years. A vital tool for their survival and wellbeing, it was part of a complex and very sophisticated system of rotational “gardening” on a massive scale that allowed for a sustainable and biodiverse existence that helped to ensure the health of all species of fauna and flora. A lot could be learned from them.

With the vast majority of the 1000km track going through eucalyptus forest it would be easy to assume it is boringly similar. On the surface perhaps so but once attuned to the subtle changes in vegetation, geology and the history of land use, it becomes everchanging. Just by watching where your feet fall you discover a wealth of variation over a short distance.

Some surfaces, like the pea gravel and the hard round gum nuts, could be easy to slip on, especially down hill, but mostly the track is easy going. We had encountered the biggest accents and descents of the whole trail on our previous trip, when we had to scale Mt Cuthbert, Vincent and Cooke, the highest at 582 m, and the profiles of our current journey were a relief after the jagged peaks and troughs of the Kumano Kodo.

Fair play to the teams of volunteers and the rangers and workers from the Parks and Wildlife service who build and maintain infrastructure like the bridge above and the shelters, and keep the track clear and marked.

We stopped at Glen Mervyn Dam for a cooling swim after passing a number of campers on the shoreline with canoes, paddle boards, speedboats and water skis.

Another couple of hours in the shady forest and we descended on the slippy pea gravel to the tarmac road where the Forest Tavern or Mumby Pub promised a cold Coke, a coffee and for Sunday lunch a big cooked meal and pint of beer. A joy only spoilt by the necessity to leave in the early afternoon heat across open ground without the shady forest. We travelled beside farmland on an old railway track before climbing a steep hill, sweating and panting, to rest gratefully in the shade again, admiring the views and comforting a lost and lonely lamb.

Now in the Greater Preston National Park we continued to Noggerup Camp where we had a bottle shower to cool down and wash off the track dust and did a little clothes washing. Nearly all of the Bibbulmun travels through land in the care of the Parks and Wildlife service whether that is a nature reserve, a National Park, a conservation park or a state forest with only the latter allowing any ( sustainable) timber production. It’s heartening to be able to hike for days, weeks, even months through a landscape that will no longer be exploited, although it is debatable to what degree the management practices are “correct”.

Not long before sunset we were joined by a man who seemed to be struggling somewhat and was so overweight that he seemed an unlikely hiker. How wrong first impressions. Jens, originally from Denmark, had just walked from Collie- 40km. He had completed about 12 end to ends on the track – that’s 12000km. He usually headed south from Perth in December when there’s less people on the trail, and did a south to north migration March to May. And he did this with multiple heath problems- herniated discs, trapped nerve, knee and other injuries due to bad accident, diabetes, big weight problem that he had to sort out before he could have his liver transplant!

He started hiking to rehabilitate after his accident and initially it would take him 14 hours to walk 5km. He needed to stop every couple of hundred metres to recuperate. Now he said it takes him a couple of weeks when he first gets back on the track for his knees to loosen up, another couple for the rest of him to get in shape and then the last couple of weeks he’s flying it, eating up the distance by walking for 18hrs- resting for 6- walking for 18- resting for 6- and repeat!

Mind you when we met him- early in the process- he was chewing painkillers and anti inflammatories big time. He also planned to rest up in the shelter the next day and continue on the track by night when it was cooler.

Our strategy for dealing with the heat was to get as much of the stage done as possible before it got too hot. Which meant an early start to Sally’s birthday.

So I woke her at 4.30 with a cup of tea and some birthday candles ,(definitely bad in a total fire ban- we later learnt we weren’t even supposed to use our Jetboil camping gaz), and hiked hard for a couple of hours before stopping for a b’day brekkie of smoked salmon and jerky.

It was a beautiful mornings hike on old railway formations, cuttings and embankments, from the days of the logging camps and then into a large area of virgin Jarrah forest with immense trees whose towering trunks seemed unimaginably big for axe or handsaw. Some of the Marri trees exuded a red gum the Aboriginal people used as an antiseptic and to tan leather.

As usual the last few kms seemed to stretch a lot further than reasonable and with many more ups and downs than expected but by mid day we had travelled the 24km to Grimwade camp and after a quick bottle shower cooloff, relaxed with a b’day cuppa and packet of Tayto’s, the taste of home.

Other treats included the cans of G and T I’d secretly carried for the last 4 days that we enjoyed with our noodles, mushroom soup and dehydrated “shepherds pie”. Quite the feast. Jens by the way has one meal a day. Soaked ( not heated) couscous and a sachet of tuna. Everyday.

We’d been too hot for a finish so determined to start even earlier. Our last day on the Track started in the gloaming. Packing up as light first bled into the eastern sky, we were on our way by 4.30, reveling in the cool morning air.

We sent a few roos bouncing off through the bush and admired, and attempted to mimic, the varied birdsong, but didn’t see as much wildlife as we had on the Cape to Cape. We were told it was because the sand surface there stifled any vibration whereas here the animals heard and felt us coming. We did see quite a lot of wild pig scuffling and on our last morning, 3 adult and 1 baby emu ran across the land below us. And plenty of flies, ants and termites.

The forest was beautiful in all its various stages. Whether full growth virgin or coppiced regrowth. Whether thick, tangled and bushy or black and burned with vivid green shoots emerging. It was all a rich tapestry. One that was understood and nurtured by the First Nations People. One of the Nyungar people whose country was South Western WA and included the Bibbulmun group had written in the article on fire stick farming of the deep and overriding connection the Indigenous people feel for their ” country”.

It ended up being a long hike on that last day. 29 km till we emerged from the forest to the rich farmland on the approach to Balingup. It gave me time to ponder on the similarities between the spiritual connection with and import of “country” to the Aboriginal or First Australians and the sanctity of nature worshipped in the Shinto faith by those countless pilgrims on the Kumano Kodo as they journeyed through the cedar forests before us. And to the recent, and desperate, moves to give legal rights and protection to nature in jurisdictions around the globe. In a race to the finish ” new animism” attempts to recognize interdependence in the living world and afford rivers, mountains,forests, lakes and in the case of Ecuador, Mother Nature , now enshrined in its constitution, the same rights as humans. Doing away with an intrinsic spiritually towards nature and replacing it with legal protection might be necessary in this faithless and destructive era when time is nearly up but it is also clumsy and riddled with complexities the legal profession can earn money from while the planet burns.

We came out of the forest for the last time exhausted but also rejuvenated by the experiences of the past 6 weeks. A couple of km of baked grass and we were able to stock up with food and drink and retire to a little cabin and garden for rest, relaxation and reflection.

CAPE TO CAPE TRACK Western Australia 2

Prevelly to Boranup Lookout 28.5km

We had a long day planned from our comfortable caravan so headed out early well rested. The usual raucous whoops and screeches of the birdlife dawn chorus accompanied us out of the town through new build suburbs of designer houses and expensive plots. It all seemed pretty affluent and most of the houses were very smart with clean lines and shining materials. A plethora of Archetect designs to protect from the sun and not the rain.

Soon enough we were back out in unadulterated nature though, a rare enough experience when nearly all landscapes have been shaped by mankind. But I suspect that’s these coastal environments have remained untouched and would have appeared the same to the European arrivals some two hundred years ago. In fact some of the plants here, like the grass tree, have been the same for 100 million years! The diversity of plant species is astounding, all the more so because at first glance or from a distance it all looks similar. In fact this region is one of only 34 ” biodiversity hotspots” in the world and the only one in Australia. One piece of parkland that was surveyed was found to have over 8000 species, 47 percent found only in southwestern Australia.

We got to the beach before 7 and already the surfers were out. This coastline has world famous breaks and there are certainly a lot of very dedicated boarders. The beaches are vast and they will carry their boards a long way in search of the perfect wave. We had to carry our packs, now thankfully a bit lighter, for about 6 km across soft and sinky sand to the end of Redgate beach where we turn up away from the blue and into the green.

We clambered back down to sea level briefly at Bob’s Hollow, an impressive limestone cliff band and weirdly shaped cave popular with climbers. This section of the trail was thought of as one of the nicest and is popular with walking groups but I suspect that’s because there are routes accessible to ordinary vehicles. At Redgate we had come across a bunch of well dressed hikers alighting from a ” Walking into Luxury” coach. A somewhat different experience!

Back up to the top of the cliffs to continue through the tunnels of greenery with occasional views of the beaches and seascapes that drew gasps of amazement at the intense beauty of it all.

We had reached Conto Campground, a D.E.C ( Department of Environment and Conservation) fee paying campsite with over 100 pitches spread over a big area of bush. We stopped here for water for the next 24 hrs and to rest up for awhile in our flysheet less tent. (It had weighed too much!) We read about the vast Leeuwin Naturaliste National Park, had our last dehydrated dinner and lay down looking up at the trees and birdlife through the tent.

A hot day, so we were grateful to be heading off into the forest shade. Miles of beautiful protected Marri, Karri and Jarrah gum trees awaited. We were having to split the remaining distance of the trail to get to the last camp the following night, in order for the final 18km to be covered on the final days trek. So we were hoping to find a place to stealth camp that night as we set off down a 4×4 track.

The trees were magnificent. The Karri is the third biggest tree species in the world and that and Jarrah had created a big timber industry for the first European settlers although how they managed to fell the massive trunks of hard and heavy wood was beyond me. We passed many a burnt and hollow trunk and one tree with a very active colony of bees before climbing to the tracks high point at Boranup Hill Lookout some 200m above sea level, where the wooden tower afforded us a fine view over the forest and sea for many miles.

A meager dinner of peanut butter sandwich and our last tea bag ( walking into luxury this was not!) and we retired to bed hoping the forecast for a 40 per cent chance of a shower did not materialize. It didn’t, though the morning was cloudy, a blessing with a long stretch of unshaded beach walking to do.

Boranup Hill Lookout to Deepdene Camp 21.5 km

It was about 4km back down to the sea, disturbing more grazing roos beside the wide track.

And then, still early, we hit Boranup Beach, praying the sand would be firm.

It was- praise be- and we were able to make good progress across a white wonderland. Never have I seen such pristine sand. Stretching to the horizon in an unbroken arc of purity. Walking beside the blue/green waters without having to slog it out in soft sand was an unbridled joy that the photos cannot hope to reflect. It was beyond good luck.

We reached Hamelin Bay around 9 after a 6 km beach walk and hit the little shop at the caravan park for coffee, coke, snacks, water, pot noodles, baked beans, pies and other health foods a hungry hiker needs. Then a swim in the tranquil bay famous for its friendly sting and eagle rays that feed from your hand.

This was the site of a once busy timber export business, with a long jetty for ships to load Karri and Jarrah lumber extracted from the surrounding forests.

Rested and watered we set off again along a beach and then up the cliffs to rollercoaster up and down the sandy tracks through the scrub up to Foul Bay Lighthouse with an increasing number of annoying biting flies coming with us. The strengthening wind that started to sandblast us at least helped to blow the pesky swarms away as we crossed an area of gorgeous rocks.

We really had to watch our step along this stretch with all the deep blowholes everywhere. We saw a sign to keep back from them,(impossible) as they can blast air and water 6 m high! More clambering over a variety of rock formations before moving onto Deepdene Beach for the last couple of Km before the turnoff to our camp for the night, 500m off the track deep in the tea trees and lush undergrowth. The wind had really picked up and we were sandblasted by the time we got there.

Our last camp of the trip was another pleasant place with compost toilet ( always fully stocked with toilet roll) water tanks and picnic tables and benches. A big shout out to all the rangers, conservation workers and volunteers who keep track and trail together.

Deepdene Camp to Cape Leeuwin Lighthouse. 18km

Another early start to avoid the sun and wind on the Long Beach stretch to Leeuwin that we had read and been told was a hard slog through sinking sand in the face of strong winds. The gods were kind again, the tide was very low, allowing us to walk by the shimmering crystal waters on packed sand and admire multicolored seaweeds and more geological wonders.

We left the beach at Augusta Cliffs climbing up, over and through high dunes of muscle aching sliding sand before gaining a stony path through varied wildflowers and scrubs with our final goal, the Leeuwin lighthouse, finally looking close after a day of minuscule enlargement on the horizon.

One last swim in the Indian Ocean just meters from where it collides with the Southern at a place called Quarry Bay where the stone was quarried for the construction of the lighthouse, Australia’s tallest. It also had bizarre mini cliff of tuffa rocks from calcium rich spring and groundwater leaching through the limestone. There was another example covering the old wooden waterwheel, made for pumping water up for the lighthouse keepers.

And that was it. By coffee time we’d finished our journey on the Cape to Cape and re-emerged into the world of tarmac roads, taxis to motels and 6 hour bus rides back to Perth. A stunning hike through a really natural world of coastal scrubland, towering forest and the biggest, most beautiful beaches I’ve ever been blessed to witness.

CAPE TO CAPE TRACK Western Australia 1

We decided to continue our World Series hiking exploits with this one whilst visiting sonny Milo in Perth.

After a weeks gardening to recover from the Kumano Kodo it was back to rucksack packing again. But this time we were going to have to carry 2 person tent, sleeping bags, sleeping mats, food, cooking and eating stuff and more water. It all adds up and our bulging bags were heavy. On a previous trip down under we’d done a couple of hundred Km of the Bibbulman through the gum, jarrah and karri forests of the Darling range so kinda knew what to expect of a hike in the Ozzy summer but this one didn’t have the camp shelters every 20 km or so but did have a few commercial camp sites and a some small towns to pick up supplies on route. There were also some simple camping sites with a picnic table and compost toilet with a water tank that may or may not have anything in it. Reading about it it became obvious that the challenging aspect was not so much the distance but how much of it was on loose soft sand beaches and tracks. Well we’d had a weeks training in those conditions on the Fisherman’s Trail in Portugal in the summer so felt like we could manage. A bit of complex logistics saw me and Sally set of from the Cape Naturaliste while Milo drove halfway down the trail, to Prevelly, left the vehicle there and cycled back north to our camp for the night at Yallingup, 16.5 km from our starting point.

Hiking north to south, with the sun behind us ( southern hemisphere innit) we set off from the historic lighthouse on a wheelchair friendly access for all track for a few km until things started to get wild.

Although spring was on its last legs and the dry heat of summer was coming in fast there were still a lovely selection of wild flowers in bloom.

The bush was thickly vegetated with an impenetrable wall of greenery either side of our mostly narrow pathway that undulated along the coastline with views of the blue waters and white surf. Dropping down to the beach we got our first taste of soft sand hiking then back up to the eroded limestone cliff tops and sandy 4 wheel drive tracks.

Deep in the bush we past the simple Duckworth Camp, cos we were heading on another 4 or 5 km to shorten the following day. Arriving hot and weary in Yallingup we swam in the sheltered lagoon before meeting Milo and returning to our camp through the gardens of Caves Hotel.

Up and on the trail by 7 with the sun already climbing steadily it was another fine day for the many surfers along this coast. There are quiet a few 4 wheel drive tracks that give them access to amazing beaches and breaks and we stopped for me to have a swim at one where a pod of dolphins rode the waves next to the surfers.

We crossed a couple of brooks that managed to make it all the way to the sea and I climbed up to the Quinninup waterfall accompanied by croaking frogs and flitting birds. We had seen and heard a lot of birdlife and now saw our first lizards and a quenda at the Moses Rock camp where we stayed, after a 22km hike, sheltered in amongst the tea trees.

Next day was nice and cool to start as we continued along the coast through a mixture of thick bush, rocky escarpments and white squeaky beaches. There had been a number of lookouts and scenically placed benches for whale watching as this is directly on a major migratory route and also for surfers to watch the waves and each other. For us they were a welcome opportunity to rest awhile and gaze out at the deep blue beyond. There were also keen fisherman both on the land and in the water with spearguns. The plant growth testified to the relentless wind as they crawled over rocks and were aerodynamically shaped by the forces.

We came to a shark warning speaker and entered a long section of coastline where these were placed in popular surf/ swim areas.

And wouldn’t you know it, when we got to a lovely bay at Gracetown in the midday heat and got in the inviting azure waters to cool off the siren overlooking the beach started flashing red lights and a disembodied voice said the beach was closed, leave the water, sharks were in the area. There are helicopter spotters and also baited drum lines. There have been a number of attacks around here.

But after another couple of hours of hiking in the heat we were forced back in the water to cool off on a reef protected beach before turning in land and passing an old homestead now under National Trust management, and into the forest for a change where a quiet and secluded camp awaited. Another 20 km done and time to pour some boiling water on a dehydrated meal before turning in for a fitful night on my leaking and comfort free sleeping mat.

Up and about in the forest early again on a sandy track that narrowed as it reentered coastal scrub. We disturbed some Roos near a place with bizarre rock formations jutting above the greenery.

It was beautiful walking and varied with narrow paths through the scrub, wide 4 wheel drive tracks, rocky cliff tops and sandy beaches walking next to lapping waves of a calmer morning sea. Before too long we had reached the Margaret River a famous stretch of fresh water that now , in the summer, had a sandbar preventing its emergence into the sea. A lovely spot to swim- without the boisterous waves and salt.

So after only 12.5 km we had reached Prevelly where we had to say goodbye to Milo ( after offloading any weight we thought we could do without) and book into a campsite where we had a caravan and a bed with a soft mattress. Oh delights. The campsite also had a restaurant a grocery and an off license. About 70km done in 4 days. Now we have to do the same again in 3 days with about 16km of soft sand involved. Fortified with food, beer and wine I’m feeling optimistic.

KUMANO KODO: The Nakahechi Pilgrimage 3

After days in the forests and mountains ,tiny rural hamlets and ancient temples , re-entry into “normal” urban environments were a shock to the system. When I say ” normal” of course it’s all relative. The suburban house we hobbled to from the Daimon-zaka slope was a guest house that the host didn’t live in.

Everything was automatic. Lights came on as you moved from space to space. No switches. If for some bizarre reason you wanted to exercise some control yourself there were various remote controls to dim or higher or lower or increase a multitude of functions and devises. If you entered the toilet the light came on, the lid came up and the heated seat and bottom washing jets were ready for action.

I did admire the nifty idea of having the cistern refill as a hand wash sink. So sophisticated and yet, ironically, the few remaining simple squatting style toilets are signed as ” Japanese style”. Some of this “smart devices” and ” Hive” and ” internet of things” may be common or garden to many of you but for someone who lives in a two hundred year old pile of stone with a bunch of reeds on top, it was a future shock to stab at the living room light remote and have a wall size projection suddenly start up, informing me of the date, time , weather , moon size and position and offering me the whole of the WWWeb for my viewing pleasure. I just wanted to see where the tea was.

We retreated to the ancient temples.

Or actually we retreated to the natural wonder that gave reason for the temples origin. The sacred Nachi Falls. Emperor Jimmu discovered the 133 m waterfall over 2500 years ago while being guided by Yatagarasu, the three legged crow, and they have been worshipped ever since. Along with a number of sacred trees on the site the falls are the object of the original nature worship that has been joined by the Buddhist temples and Shinto Kumano Nachi Taisha in a multi belief system syncretism. No religious fundamentalism here.

They were beautiful and awesome and mighty and thundering with life and energy and the kind of thing I could get behind on the worshipping spectrum. As were the trees and general surroundings. Other people seemed to agree and they left prayer papers, burnt wishing sticks, bought power amulets and rang bells and shook long hollow logs full of potents. And took pictures.

In the sightseeing mode we took the bus down to Kii Katsuura on the coast for a different perspective of the mountains and have a ramble around. The place is tuna central with a big fleet and a massive market. Tuna tuna everywhere.

There were lots of Onsen around, but not open till later, so we settled for the public foot Onsen, where people casually took off their socks and shoes and sat bathing their feet for awhile on the Main Street. As you do. There were even tuna at the bottom of the foot bath.

On our walk across town to the beach and bus/ train station we admired the mish mash of urban architecture. Surprised to see that planning and regs seemed loose to say the least and that the clean cut minimalism I associate with Japanese style was not universally employed. Also that my preconceived notions of the wealth of the nation could have been misplaced.

Got to the Pacific and had a paddle before catching the bus to our bed in Albergue Kodo.

Our last full day in Japan and we had our last of the three Grand Shrines to visit. A short bus ride up the coast was Shingu and the Kumano Hayatama Taisha, symbolizing the past, while Nachi Taisha covers the present and Hongu Taisha the future. By worshipping at all three one is thought to find salvation, peace and good luck for each realm. But first we needed to visit another shrine, the Kamikura- jinja, where the gods first descended from heaven. It is nestled under the huge monolith known as Gotobiki-iwa, halfway up Mt Gongen and offers panoramic views of the city.

The magnificent and sacred rock, bound by a massive shimenawa rope, is at the top of a flight of 538 ridiculously steep stone steps that on the 6th of February every year, 2000 men dressed in white throw themselves down in a frantic nighttime race whilst carrying flaming torches. Pure Shinto madness representing sperm cascading down from the male phallic rock to enter an archway of women awaiting at the Torii gates below. And hopefully awaken the sun and bring fertility.

We clambered down slowly with caution horrified at the idea of uncontrolled leaping from those heights. At the bottom we crossed town to the Taisha, again agog at the buildings on the way.

The shrine was more peaceful than the other two had been, with the usual mix of ritual water, and prayer, grand structures and simple nature. There was a 1000 year old sacred podocarpus nagi tree and a family ceremony of some kind.

We had a picnic lunch after climbing to the top of the old castle ruins gazing out to the green forested mountains we had become so intimate with over the previous 9 days. The blue river that flowed into the sea here was the same one that carried countless pilgrims on boats from Hongu.

One final temple, one final stamp at Asuka- jinja.

One final treat when a man appeared from nowhere and led us into the temple where he played a bamboo flute for us.

A tune called Kumano Kodo.

We are moving on to Western Australia now, for treks in the bush, but before we leave the Land of the Rising Sun I want to thank the Japanese people we met for their hospitality, their kindness, helpfulness, generosity and good humor. I would also like to thank the ones we didn’t meet for their hard work keeping the Kumano Kodo trails as beautiful as they are.


KUMANO KODO: The Nakahechi Pilgrimage 2

We needed time to see the Grand Shrine of Hongu properly which meant taking a day off the hike. So we missed out on the shortest and easiest section of the whole pilgrimage, a low level 13 km route to Koguchi. Waking in the morning to rain we were happy with our decision and it gave me a couple of hours to post the last blog. The rain had turned to intermittent showers by the time we got to Hongu town and leaving our packs in a luggage locker (it’s all so organized) set off up the flight of flag bedecked stone steps. The Kumano Sanzen is a collective term for the three Grand Shrines of the Kumano pilgrimages. First appearing as a single religious institution in the 11th century they were originally for the worship of nature but adapted to and included the incoming Buddhist beliefs. Because of this diversity of interpretations Kumano has developed into a sacred site for a wide range of religious traditions, each worshipping side by side in harmony.

The whole place was amazingly transferred from its riverside site in 1891 after a tremendous flood devastated the area and the architecture is astonishing. The huge thick roofs that slope and curve so gracefully are constructed entirely of cypress bark and are replaced about every 50 years.

With the wealth of cedar and cypress carpeting the surrounding mountains it’s no surprise to see such copious quantities used in the buildings but still awe inspiring. As is the detailed carpentry with no nails and fine joints.

The main sanctuary is entered through the Shinmon gate, decorated with a giant Shimenwa rope, made of hemp and silk for enclosing the spirits or a sacred space, and a curtain printed with an image of chrysanthemum flowers.

We called to the temple office and a monk escorted us to a huge drum that, as duel pilgrims, we were encouraged to beat in the complex rhythm he showed us. Honour indeed. Outside of the main area were all sorts of ritual spaces for drinking and washing, leaving offerings, ringing bells, burning incense and buying a massive range of charms and amulets. Time to move on.

In the cultural Heritage Centre we learnt more of the history of the Kumano Kodo. How incredibly busy it had been from the 14th century when the pilgrims were discribed as a line of ants across the land, how groups of volunteers work tirelessly on keeping it together and the Yamabushi who often guide on the ways.

By now we had decided to continue our personal pilgrimage on from Koguchi to the Grand Shrine of Nachi Taisha on a continuation of the Nakahechi or the Ogumotori- goe leg. It was the toughest section, climbing 1260m, including an 800m slope and 20km to our accommodation. There were all sorts of horror stories about it but we hadn’t thought the “hike from hell” so bad and after a day off we’re feeling pretty bullish. So we took a couple of bus rides( a pleasant change to see some low level riverside country) to Koguchi and set off from there 6.30 the following morning as the village was still wrapped in mist. It was immediately and relentlessly steep and a little slippy as we climbed the ancient stone steps onwards and upwards.

We came to a mossy spot where a rock was carved with 3 characters representing the main deities worshipped at the Sanzan. It is here that the Kumano spirits are believed to meet and chat over tea. Perhaps our labored breathing prevented us from hearing them.

At a little covered shelter there were some thoughtfully plumbed taps for drinking water to quench our thirst before continuing on up.

Now the silent forests have taken over the land it’s hard to picture people living here but a sign described how busy this remote area had been servicing the pilgrims of the past.

And then came the Dogiri- zaka translated as ” Body Breaking Slope”. You get the idea.

But all things come to an end and eventually, and actually by 9am, we were at the top of the Echizen-toge pass at 870m. As the famous poet Fujiwara Teika said in his pilgrimage diary from 1201, ” This route is very rough and difficult; it is impossible to describe precisely how tough it is”. And if a famous poet can’t I am certainly at a loss for words. I will only quote another poem, taken from the last “poem monument” installed on this route.

“One drop of sweat with every step, while climbing Ogumotori-goe in the depths of the Kii Peninsula “.

A victory selfie and an offering of thanks for safe passage and we were off on an up and down path for the next 6 km.

There had been a big landslide which meant a diversion on a forest track adding an extra 40 minutes to an already long trek but it emerged back on track at a lovely rest shelter, accessible by road, complete with coffee vending machine and a little garden. Life was good.

A couple of km uphill on the tarmac then off into the depths of the forest again on some more beautiful sections alongside streams, through bamboo groves and past hundreds of rounded rocks that looked like volcanic ” bombs” to me but I’m sure I’ll be corrected.

You’d have to give thanks for all this beauty and the little wayside shrines gave us the opportunity. We came to a grove where a Torii gate seemed to protect a sacred cypress and someone’s beloved dog.

On the approach to Mt Myoho we came upon some fellow pilgrims, all smiles and chat. This area is the Abode of the Dead. The souls of the dead gravitate to the higher mountains and spirits inhabited this section of the trail.

We reached the Funami-toge pass not long after and were able to enjoy our bento box lunch in the sun soaking up the views of the Pacific Ocean below us to the south. 4km downhill from here to the Nachi Kogen Park just above the Shrine where there was a pile of abandoned pilgrim sticks.

The Park was a bizarre and neglected place with the look of a white elephant. Perhaps built with world heritage money spent on something nobody wanted??

All the more strange for it to be on the outskirts of such a popular and sacred Grand Shrine that we now approached on the last flights of stone steps. ( Or so we thought!)

We explored rather wearily but we’re excited to climb through the 800yr old hollow Camphor tree, taking our prayer sticks with us. More amazing structures more ancient history and lots more people involved in timeless rituals.

And then, the sting in the tail, the Daimon-zaka slope. A 600m long cobbled stairway lined with centuries old trees that was truly spectacular but the last thing our knees needed.

Another km or so from the bottom of the steps took us a long way from the misty sacred mountains and deep into a strange suburbia where our bed was. But more on that next time.

KUMANO KODO: The Nakahechi Pilgrimage 1

Gluttons for punishment and intent on spiritual redemption we were catching a 6 am bus to Takijiiri- oki to begin the most popular of the Kumano Kodo pilgrimages. The Nakahechi main route takes 38.5km to reach Hongu Taisha from where, traditionally, it continues another 27 km to Nachi Taisha to the south, although nowadays people often stop at Hongu. Not us of course.

Waiting for the bus outside our lodging we got a hot coffee from the vending machine and watched the light pick up the sulfurous steam rising from the waters of the river that ,as we arrived the previous night, were enjoyed by bathers in their dug out hot pools.

Riding a Japanese bus is a very efficient experience with a payment system that impressed. You take a numbered ticket on entry. There is an electronic sign with all the numbers on and their appropriate fares owing as the journey progresses. So when you alight you read your number’s fare and put your ticket and money in the machines. And the drivers wear smart uniform with hats and gloves.

So the busy roads and villages made us realize we were now in a different environment to the empty wilderness of the Kohechi. The awareness was made more acute when we arrived at the trailhead to souvenir shops, coffee shops and other hikers.

So off through the Torii gates and massed shrines, past mighty roots,to the Tainai Kuguri ( meaning- to pass through the womb) cave entrance. It’s said that women who can squeeze through the gap are said to have an easy labour. So Sally had to have a go on a professional midwifery basis.

With the low hum of traffic in our ears we climbed up a steep and rocky hillside over prominent tree roots glossed by countless boots. More little shrines and waymarkers and a stretch of flagstone pathway running through a tunnel of greenery beside a road. I thought it well that the early roadmakers had not surfaced over this ancient thoroughfare as has happened in so many places.

We were now getting hungry having had no breakfast. The guesthouse had turned our breakfast into a “bento” box of lunch and seeing the shrine figures all bibbed up couldn’t resist opening our parcels. Christmas was early!

We reached the outsides of a village with signs for nice looking places offering accommodation. All so different from the Kohechi, but more varied I guess. It’s always interesting to us to see other cultures gardens.

We got to Takahara Kumano- jinja , the oldest shrine on the whole route, stood over by a 1000 yr old camphor tree.

We availed of the stamps for our new passports and walked on into the village where the big “rest area” overlooked picture perfect paddy fields whose thirst was quenched by a tall working waterwheel.

Past Takahara we climbed steeply into the mountains and away from any settlements for 8 km. There was a neglected cabin and shelter deep in the woods and a little while later a beautifully tranquil pond. Peace descended.

The serenity was somewhat broken at the Jujo-oji clearing where a large group of walkers were having a picnic and at the shrine and stamp box we had to queue briefly behind a bunch of Aussies.

We rose now on our final ascent to the high point of the day at the site of the Uwada-Jaya Teahouse (690m). We had passed a number of these little flat areas where for centuries there had been tea houses or inns to nourish the weary traveller or pilgrim. The trail now descended quickly, sometimes with steep switchback stairways of log stairs, to reach a small creek. We had noticed that this route had far more running water than the Kohechi and wondered about the micro climates going on around these complex crinkled landforms.

One of the above pictures shows a monorail track that snaked down through the forest. We’d seen one earlier at an old abandoned farmstead with a petrol engined trolley for bringing stuff up the steep slopes. I really can’t imagine how they do their forestry work out in such remote and trackless mountains. I’m not sure how much logging or harvesting goes on. We’d seen some in more accessible areas but in most places they had seemed to do a lot of thinning, leaving all the timber out there, often placed horizontally between trunks or stumps, presumably to help stop landslides. The remaining trees were then allowed to grow on to maturity(?) maybe purely to help with erosion. Good news for the planet anyway- there is an endless sea of cedar on this peninsular but as someone who has just spent a lot of money on a cedar ceiling and works hard to gather timber for fuel the vast amount left lying about was hard to deal with.

We continued down passing a rest shelter and picnic area popular in the spring for admiring cherry blossom and down into the largest settlement of the day at Chikatsuyu village. Nearly 1000yrs ago groups of up to 300 pilgrims would stay here and perform cold water purification rights in the river before worshipping.

Climbing out of the village the views of the mountains to the east and south opened up as we climbed 200m mostly on tarmac on the old highway passing a sad number of fairly recently abandoned homesteads. Abandonment was a theme that resonated as we hiked through the area, both in the roadside settlements and deep in the forests where until the 70’s people were farming. Emigration to the cities and rural depopulation is a world wide phenomena and we were witnessing the Japanese story.

But then a cheerier side to the flourishing of this ancient route was shown when we arrived at the lovely thatched rest area with a traditional irori hearth, a chimney less fireplace for cooking and smoking all your roof timbers. Bad for the lungs but good for insect control.

The lovely ladies who volunteered there gave us cups of tea and little gifts of origami and chatted away in Japanese. We were in the shade of the giant cedar trees of the Tsugizakura-oji shrine. These 800 yr old trees, some with a circumference of 8 meters, were scheduled for destruction along with the shrine in the governments ” shrine consolidation ” program in 1906 and were saved by the actions of Minakata Kumagusu, ” an eccentric genius researcher and avant – garde environmentalist “. I like the sound of him!

There was a sacred spring here with healing waters that we unfortunately missed but we did see the ancient cherry tree with associated folklore and got the stamp to prove it.

Finally at Nonaka, after18km and 1200m ascent were our lodgings complete with goats. A couple from Tokyo had moved here 3 years ago to run a guest house and were doing very well. The world map wallpaper in the dining space was covered with pins denoting where all there guests had come from and it was very impressive. Good to see that like the Camino, the pilgrimage route can give new life to a declining rural area.

The finest breakfast so far set us up for what we thought would be a relatively easy day as we were starting at 500m even though the distance was the longest at about 20km. It wasn’t easy.

Continuing along the old highway now a quiet backroad past more neglected spaces awaiting rebirth we reentered the forest and were sent on a detour created after a major landslide after the 2012 typhoon. It was tough going climbing up and over the Iwagami-toge pass at 670m.

Then down again on soft forest tracks and log steps, passing more signs of now afforested old terraces,to eventually reach the valley floor again and the Yukawa- gawa river. Before crossing over we visited the beautifully situated Jagata-Jizo shrine where we learnt that travelers in the area are often overtaken by Daru spirits, serpent like witch creatures capable of taking an invisible form, penetrating the human body and inflicting fatigue and painful torment! They had me.

Crossing the river on another log bridge we began yet another climb, passing another old tea house site and checkpoint where from the 15th century a toll would be inflicted on pilgrims, up to what we foolishly imagined was the last pass of the day, the Mikoshi-toge at about 580m.

The site of the remains of the Doyu – kawa settlement seemed a somber place with the ghosts of the ancestors hanging about, as did the more obvious remains of the Michu-no-gawa hamlet where there were 17 households at one time.

Soon after we crossed a large area of landslide management. A lot of this goes on and must cost the state a fortune.

We descended to the river Otonashi-gawa where there had been bad flooding that had taken out a bridge which meant there were diversions in place. The route to Hongu was sent straight on and the side route to Yunomine, where we were staying ,went right on the Akashi-goe trail. We went right. There was a lot of serious engineering work being done on the river and they had luckily installed a log bridge just days before that took us over the river to the start of a big slope.

We should have looked at the altitude profile for this ” shorter” route. It must have been because it came at the end of a long day of ups and downs but the climb to the 450m pass seemed to go on forever.

Claiming the summit at last we continued up and down along the ridge with occasional stunning views across the green cloaked folds and past another old tea house and cemetery finally given up to the forest in the 70’s.

The track got perilously narrow on the edge of a big area of felled forest and a view to reengineered landslip.

A carved waymarkers from 1855 pointed us down the trail towards the ” hell slope” where steep and slippy mud and flagstones took us down through the hot steam and sulphur smells of Yunomine Onsen.

Discovered some 1800 years ago and thought to be one of Japan’s oldest hot springs, the healing waters are pumped into a number of baths around the village including the tiny Tsuboyu Onsen, a World Heritage site. We got our tickets for it and quickly dropped our bags at the hostel, returning for our allotted 30 minutes of wonderfully restorative hot healing for our weary muscles.

It had been a tough one and we realized we’d been pushing it a bit with not enough downtime for seeing the offtrail sights.

So we decided to finish this pilgrimage at Hongu, in the traditional style, and give ourselves some time by taking the bus to Koguchi. The weather was forecast for rain so the timing is good.

So we will now visit the three major sacred shrines of the Kumano Kodo, the Kumano Sanzan, the Hongu Taisha, Nachi Taisha and Hayatama Taisha in Shingu and I’ll get back to you.