It's in the Details
Eighty-eight is a lot of temples. No-one is expected to remember them in detail. However, there is always something to trigger a memory of each. Perhaps it’s the stamp office, or layout of the main hondo (hall), even a tree or pond could ignite that spark that’s saids “Yes I remember this place. I was here”.
That’s why as we looked around the grounds of Temple 83 (Ichinomiya-ji), we felt confused. Nothing was familiar. Not one thing. We considered that perhaps we skipped visiting it in 2009. A quick reference through our book and a stamp for Temple 83 proved otherwise. We had both been here but were failing to recall any features of the temple. It was sad, but also a bit curious. Why were we confused so?
What we did remember was our lunch plans. Pierre, our pilgrim friend was also in Takematsu City and we would reunite with him for a meal. Although we had walked together a few times throughout the past weeks, he had finished all 88 temples earlier this week.
The small train to meet Pierre was full of local color and great for people watching. In our car groups of school kids giggled, seniors chatted with each other, young moms played with their infants and salarymen stared at their phones. A youthful conductor, not much older than the uniformed students, announced stations and ensured platforms were clear. How did he get this job so young? Did he long to laugh with those other students? A middle aged woman amazed me as she stood perfectly balanced on the unsteady tracks, both hands holding onto a book. A man in his early thirties entered hastily and headed straight to a window seat. He never took his gaze off the blurred landscape of the passing world outside.
At Takematsu Station a small figure leaning against a wall in the distance waved to us. We raised our hands waving back. The figure returned our hello with an even bigger, double handed wave. As we met Pierre in the middle of the plaza it was all hugs and congratulations.
Our lunch of udon was spent catching up and sharing stories. Tomorrow Pierre will leave for Atami to help with the investigation of Mikaël’s disappearance.
Back at the station we shared more hugs, waves and words of reuniting. Pierre got on his train and we hit the streets of Takematsu in search of our hotel.
Excitement was in the air. We had booked a room for two nights.
That’s 48 hours on one place!
Finding the hotel was proving to be harder than we anticipated. We had forgotten our guide book and were struggling with google maps to locate it. Surely we were on the correct street and block, but where was our Shangri-La?
Our earthly oasis turned out to be a muted beige, multi story building. A hand written sign with the word “hotel” was barely taped to the front door. Inside bags of linens and yukatas (Japanese robe) were piled on the floor. Dusty cardboard boxes stacked to the ceiling looked untouched for months.
This was not the respite we imagined. Taking my shoes off to enter the lobby has never been so hard.
The clerk smiled as we walked towards him, our reservation already in his hand. He must have seen my grimace as we approached him, and when we uncustomary asked to see the room before paying, I felt embarrassed.
Don’t judge a book by its cover.
If rooms could have personalities, ours was kind. It had a comfy, slightly bohemian vide. The amenities were easily better than some of the more expensive hotels we’ve stayed at. The elevated train that raced by our 3rd floor window, shaking the entire room, added an intangible character. It was, quite frankly, perfect.
Our third floor slice of heaven is located across the street from Japans third most beautiful garden. As the late afternoon sun did its magic on the flora outside, we happily stayed put indoors, spending our day off in the relaxing tatami room (Japanese style room). All this from a hotel I didn’t want to enter.
The details of this surprising paradise will stay with me forever.
May 20, 2016 - Temple 83
