Rode a rural train to the end of the line, then boarded a rural bus that took me all the way to the sparsely populated tip of the Muroto Peninsula. Climbed to temple 24 of the Shikoku 88-temple pilgrimage. Now, I’m settled into a ryokan, a traditional old-fashioned inn, bathed, wearing a yukata, ready for dinner. Later, I’ll be crashing out in this room on a futon on the tatami mats.
