Morning in Japan is starting to feel like a religious experience. Another amazing breakfast, this time handcrafted by Aki, my guesthouse host Guest House Kiyohime—eggs cooked to perfection, crispy toast, creamy yogurt, and a hash brown so good it should be illegal. If this is what mornings always tasted like, I’d be a morning person….
I’m a 50+ year-old with a backside so rotund it could have its own postal code, body held together by enough K-tape to mummify a small horse. And yet, here I am, still walking. If I can do this, anyone can. This morning started with what I now recognise as a sweet, smiling lie from…
Woke up leisurely — because I’m on pilgrimage, not parole — packed my suitcase, and shipped it ahead like a dignified traveler who refuses to carry unnecessary weight (because that’s what my emotional baggage is for). Caught the 0910 bus to Takijiri-Oji, the gateway to the Kumano Kudo, a World Heritage pilgrimage trail. Sounds serene,…