Shikoku Pilgrimage Solo Journey with YUMEVOJA – Episode 0: Preparing for Departure

Stage 1-1 | June 16, 2024 (Start)

In the Shikoku Pilgrimage, the journey is often divided into smaller stages, called “Kugiri” in Japanese. Each stage marks a natural break in the route, making it easier for pilgrims to follow the long path step by step. This was the very first stage of my solo pilgrimage, beginning on June 16, 2024.

How One Book Started It All

When I first decided to take on the challenge of visiting all 88 temples of the Shikoku Pilgrimage, I was a complete beginner with no knowledge at all. My only guide was a single book I had bought online. Inside its pages were explanations of the route, the customs, and the rituals, and I held onto the belief that “as long as I read this, I’ll be fine.” Looking back now, the information was already outdated, and I faced many difficulties once the journey actually began. Yet even so, that book was the one that gave me the courage to take my very first step.

Where Ideals Met Reality

In my original plan, I imagined starting from JR Awa-Ōtani Station, walking along the scenic path toward Temple No. 1. However, when I arrived, I discovered that the small unmanned station had no place to park my car. In the end, I had no choice but to drive directly to the first temple. It was not the graceful beginning I had envisioned—an early reminder that reality doesn’t always follow our ideals.

Essential Gear from a Henro Supply Shop

Next to the temple grounds was a small Henro supply shop, where I gathered the minimum gear needed for the pilgrimage: a white vest (byakui), a sedge hat (sugegasa), prayer beads (juzu), a pilgrimage book (nōkyō-chō) in which the temple staff handwrite the temple’s name and details in calligraphy and then stamp it with a seal, name slips (osame-fuda), incense sticks, candles, a lighter, and a simple guidebook. The shop staff kindly assured me, “This will be enough,” and even showed me the basic manners for worship. When I asked if I could leave my car parked there for a while, they nodded warmly in agreement—a small gesture that gave me a great sense of encouragement at the very beginning of my journey.

Choosing to Walk the Pilgrimage Whenever I Can

I entered Shikoku by car from the Kansai region, but from there I combined trains, buses, and even ferries, aiming to walk as much of the route as possible. These days, many pilgrims choose what is often called the “non-walking pilgrimage,” relying mainly on cars or buses to cover the distance. For me, however, the sense of truly being on a journey came only when I walked with my own feet, step by step along the path.

The Choice of “Kugiri-uchi” (Pilgrimage in Stages)

Of course, a complete walking pilgrimage was not realistic for me at this stage of my life—it simply required more time than I could spare. Instead, I chose “Kugiri-uchi,” the style of completing the pilgrimage in separate stages. Because I had to fit my journeys in between work and daily life, I was always under the pressure of returning on schedule. At times I worried, “Will I really make it back in time?” Yet by steadily adding one step after another, I found I could continue the pilgrimage at my own pace.

First-Day Nerves and Uncertainty

The moment I slipped into the white vest (byakui), placed the sedge hat (sugegasa) on my head, and held the prayer beads (juzu) in my hand, I felt as if I had already become a traveler—even before taking a single step. Yet inside, I was filled with uncertainty. Would I really be able to continue this journey? Was I capable of carrying it through? With my heart caught between nervousness and expectation, I had no room to even think about taking photos.

The Moment I Decided to Start a Blog

That day was only a day trip for me. As I headed home, the thought suddenly came to me: “I should record this experience in a blog.” It was then that I realized I hadn’t taken a single photo. Strangely, I didn’t feel any regret. Instead, I felt as if I had engraved something even more important than records—the experience itself—deeply into my heart.

My Pilgrimage Gear One Year Later

What you see here is the gear that has stayed with me throughout one year of pilgrimage. The white vest (byakui) was too hot to endure in the summer, so at one point I removed the sleeves myself. With each stage of the journey, I gradually added new items, treating them as small rewards for myself. Every single piece now carries memories of the moments when I first received it.

The gear that walked with me for a year. Even the altered vest, with its sleeves removed, now tells part of the history of this journey.

A One-of-a-Kind Pouch Made from the Sleeves

The sleeves I had removed were not thrown away but sewn together and transformed into a pouch. Designed to be worn around the waist, it has sections for prayer beads (juzu), candles, a lighter, incense sticks, name slips (osame-fuda), and an offering pouch—arranged in the order they are needed during worship. It can even hold the pilgrimage book (nōkyō-chō). This handmade item, truly a “one-of-a-kind treasure” unavailable in any store, keeps all the essentials close at hand. Even now, it remains a trusted companion that supports me on my journey.

A waist pouch made from the sleeves of my byakui. Each pilgrim item fits in order, making it a truly one-of-a-kind piece.

The Beginning of the Journey

And so, my solo Shikoku pilgrimage began with this very first step. In the next episode, I will share the moment I finally set foot inside the grounds of Temple No. 1.

Today’s bonus capsule!