from matsuyama, i walked to hojo, visiting temples 52 and 53 on the way. it was a hot day and my energy was zapped, yet the little port town was pretty. at sunset, i walked along the harbour. there were lots of old folk in floppy sunhats and slippers gossiping in the streets. i had the feeling that, after id passed them and wished them konbanwa (good evening), they might gossip about me, too. the sun set over the kashima hojo island, a big green lump in the seto inland sea, and the water turned pink. big herons flew from boat [View Full Entry]

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i was so busy concentrating on not getting lost in its suburbs that i forgot to glance behind me at the castle, and at the cute little city uwajima had been. another place passed through and left behind. we'd shared an existence for about a day and a half, but now i'd probably never see it again in my life. for several miles i walked uphill along a stream into which yellow leaves were falling from the trees. a buddhist would regard it as a symbol of transcience. the henro signs pointed me across a bright yellow field where i surprised [View Full Entry]

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i had set two goals. to reach the remote cape ashizuri misaki, location of temple 38, and to leave kochi prefecture - the biggest, longest, most difficult of shikokus four prefectures, in a henro sense of looking at life. im very happy to tell you that both goals are in the bag, though not without a small crisis of faith and one big bloody mountain along the way. the day i left kochi city, everything went wrong. i woke up too late, i didnt have enough time to get to all of my intended temples, it was swelteringly hot and i [View Full Entry]

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its 12 days and 234km since my last blog. sounds like a long way but in fact i continued to battle with my feet and was thus slower than i hoped. but the good news is that my blisters and i have finally come to an understanding; i smother them with antiseptic several times a day and they only give me bother after six or seven hours on the road. you find me in kochi. im having a day off to appreciate its original castle, kochi jo, and to stock up on plasters and other goodies like sellotape to mend my [View Full Entry]

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Well, here i am, six days in, and I'm in the city of Tokushima, resting my feet for a day - it may have to be two - because i can hardly walk for blisters. I have about seven and they are oozing various gross substances. (i always end up writing about puke and ooze in my blogs, don't i? The realities of travel!) My dad tells me they should harden up in a day or two, but yesterday it took me seven hours to hobble eight miles which isn't good. Still, I'm holding out hope for a recovery within the [View Full Entry]

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I got to Seoul and it rained and it rained. My first impressions of South Korea will always be against a soundtrack of cars driving through puddles. I was jetlagged and keen to get on to Japan, the weight of the pilgrimage plan heavy on my shoulders. I want to find out if i can do it or not, and get started. So, i had enough time in Seoul to get totally drenched, and try snails (chewy) as well as delicious Korean kebabs. They love bbq beef here - my kind of place! - but to indulge you have to be [View Full Entry]

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On my first night in Dubai, i kicked back with a bottle of Asahi beer on the terrace of the Bahri Bar, and regarded the Burj Al-Arab as it shifted colours from green to pink, and sent beams of light dancing across the sky from it's rooftop. I like this dhow-inspired, world famous building but i don't think i respect it very much. A glass bottomed swimming pool, restaurant in an aquarium, dancing fountains, extortionate suites and thirty quid cocktails? Let's face it, it's pretty silly. Not that silliness should be discouraged but as Abdullah the laughing taxi driver told me [View Full Entry]

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From Dhaka we travelled by bus for thirteen hours and reached Kolkata by evening. Just before boarding the bus, I was convinced I was going to throw up in the waiting room, quite possibly on the feet of the Bangladeshi poet Seth was chatting to. I held it in but felt rotten for two hours. In Kolkata we washed up, fed, got a great nights sleep, then flew to Mumbai early the next morning. Bad turbulence had me reaching for the sick bag, turning green and desperately holding back the vomit. (Damn food of Kuakata! I have lost three kilos in [View Full Entry]

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With 24 hours to take on Dhaka with a vengeance, we waste no time getting stuck in, despite my still somewhat feeble condition. We ride cycle rickshaws all around Old Dhaka, even though the UK government travel pages warn against it. (I think we only live once but it's debatable.) These are the first subcontinental vehicles i have travelled in that crash constantly. As Seth puts it, when you're travelling at 2 miles an hour, it hardly matters, does it? It's fun getting stuck in jams and seeing all the rickshaw art - film heroines and heroes, peacocks and animals - [View Full Entry]

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The first thing I did on arriving in Dhaka was throw up against a wall. Considering I’ve been wanting to visit this city for eight years, it wasn’t really the entrance I was expecting to make. The bus from Kuakata had taken eleven hours, and we had travelled through the night. It was a great journey. All of the stars were out. ‘The Plough’ - that great saucepan of the sky - was the most prominent (quite appropriate for the subcontinent, I think.) The headlights lit up the endless rows of bushy trees, which appeared bright green momentarily then whooshed out [View Full Entry]

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