Exceptions to No Rules
The jovial voices of the spear fisherman woke me before the 5:30am alarm had a chance to. Thankfully the two young men had broken camp and were gone by the time my, not so elegant exit, from the tent occurred. The warm evening, goro-goro (thunder) and crashing waves kept sleep away most of the night. But starring at a dark sky full of stars was worth it.
With no coffee to get us on our feet we quickly packed up our gear and backtracked about 500 meters to the nearest village and closest kōhī jidō hanbaiki (coffee vending machine). The older gentleman who looked shocked with my koniciwa (hello) greeting yesterday was still perched on the same chair, wearing the same expression and clothing. Even his slipper continued to balance precariously on the tip of his toe. Had he moved from this spot in the last 12 hours? This morning my ohayo-gozaimasu (good morning) to him was greeted with a friendly, but curious smile.
Our reunion with the pilgrims trail was humid. The first six kilometers on the even, straight route seemed to fly by in comparison to yesterdays climbs and rocky paths. We were making good time to the town of Sukumo and all things pointed to an early day. Unfortunately after we voiced that realization, the road suddenly seemed to get longer. Something frozen and cold would certainly help the day go faster.
Before beginning our pilgrimage, Matt and I decided that there would be no rules. No rules with the exception of one. A very important one. If we were to indulge in ice cream it could only come from two sources; a human hand scooping it into some vessel or a machine who’s sole purpose was to output cold, luscious, rich, sweet cream. Convenience store freezer ice cream were absolutely off limits. If we allowed for that, our diet would basically consist of ice cream. So when we spied a modest square building, sitting in the middle of nowhere, alone on a corner lot, well you can imagine our fortune.
It was my call as to whether or not we stopped. In some ways it would be easier to continue. We had momentum and a stop required a checklist of actions. Take off the hat, unstrap the backpacks, wipe off sweat, and for me, remove my Invisalign trays. But the taste of coolness was already on my lips.
Inside the sparse, modest shop one man sat facing a wall, eyes glued to his computer screen. He turned to look at us and seemed surprised to have customers. We quickly came to realize that this was a drive thru only ice cream shop. Nonetheless he graciously welcomed us. After serving us our chilly treats he disappeared. He returned moments later with an office-type chair so we could both sit and enjoy our frozen desserts.
As we ate in silence something seemed to be starring at us as. On the walls hundreds of coconuts faces of all shapes and sizes peered our direction. Each head was assigned its own number and sat on a pedestal of rope. Nylon netting prevented them from falling off the wall. As best we could, we tried to get the story behind the collection. With some help from Yahoo translation we came to understand that the coconuts were gathered over the last three years. All from Ashizuri. He was a very sincere and calmly eager gentleman. As we left his shop a turn back would to see him standing at the door watching us, smiling.
Another rest stop a few kilometers later resulted in eating an entire package of dried fish and sesame seeds. Yes the pairing worked and it was delicious.
We arrived in Sukumo City late afternoon and checked into an old refurbished hotel. A labyrinth of stairs and hallways led us to our room in the unrenovated section of the building. We had to duck to get into the door.
Today, May 1st, is my twins birthday. Even though we were not born in the same month, year, or country, she is family. She is an inspiration and a role model to me and many others. It is because of her that the 88 Temple pilgrimage is known to me. Happy Birthday Noriko Karasaki!
May 1, 2016 - Still en route to Temple 39
