Our Laundry Lifestyle
(continued from previous…) Rain and wind continued pounding us until morning. Moving on from our soaked campsite was the only option. We needed to dress, organize and break down the tent in a full downpour. Today would be the true test of our new rain gear. Bypassing the trail for a train stop we started walking to Yuki Station where we discovered that water resistant is not the same as waterproof. At the small station we gladly waited under cover 40 minutes for a train to Hiwasa, the stop for Temple 23.
Hiwasa is a small fishing town and on good weather days, a popular spot for weary pilgrims. On stormy days its rest stop, located in the middle of town, is a blessing. In addition to the usual food stalls, clean restrooms and small market, the station building has a free hot foot bath. Score! Here we had the opportunity to digest the night of the imploding/exploding tent and formulate a plan for the day. Staying in this quaint town for an evening called to us. We phoned the only business hotel in town and reserved the last room. The 3pm check in gave us an idle 6 hours.
Looking around the rest stop a similar pilgrim story unfolded around us. Numerous wet, deflated and tired looking pilgrims were also making their “plan Bs”. A young male Japanese pilgrim had stripped all his wet gear off and spread out awkwardly in the public tatami area. His saturated and torn socks on display for all to see. A biking pilgrim made himself at home by the vending machines and looked accepting of the situation. With his tent strewn over his bike to dry he sat reading a book.
A little after noon the sun had found its was out, bringing with it humidity. We joined the ranks of other pilgrims in drying our belongings. We hung our wet tent, fly, sleeping bags and backpacks onto a railing behind the station building, out of site of other travels but unbeknownst to us in full view of passing trains.
We packed our now dry and publicly viewed belongings into a locker and walked to Temple 23, Yakuōji. After lunch and ice cream our next stop was the hotel. At check in Matt noticed a wall of framed o-fuda name slips. My o-fuda from 2009 was included. A feeling of pure happinesses washed over me. Dry but dirty, we sat in our room. All three windows wide open, a breeze coming and going and the late afternoon sunshine softly illuminating the train tracks below us.
As you can image a walking pilgrim is in need of a washing machine regularly. There is an unofficial laundry protocol when sharing a machine with others. It varies from location to location but always involves respect and patience. At this particular hotel the laundry is located in the upstairs attic/storage room. One washing machine with a 38 minutes cycle and one dryer with a 30 minute cycle. When we got to the machines, bags of dirty clothes sat on chairs or the floor, a queue of over 2 hours. The bags looked like little army recruits waiting to get their haircuts. Our bag joined the army late by pilgrims standards, 7pm. Around 9pm a call came into our room and in broken English the voice spoke “Laundry done”. The person in front of us had finished and it was our turn. We were not the last of the laundry soldiers however, another young pilgrim, bag in hand, set her belongings on the ground. She said “mine next” and pointed to a key displaying her room number. I was to phone when “Laundry done”. Never got the opportunity to do so as she was already standing at the machine durning my 2 minutes of final spin. With clothes folded, clean and dry, at 10pm it’s past this pilgrims bed time.
April 17, 2016 - Temple 23
