Pandemic: My Road Not Travelled

Instead of binge-watching “Better Call Saul”, I should have been taking a hike

If you had asked me to name the perfect holiday this time last year, it would have involved lots of nothing. Staying at home instead of going somewhere. Lots of lazy days drinking coffee, reading, watching George Clooney movies on Netflix. A high point might be a trip into town to browse the excellent bookshops Melbourne possesses, with maybe lunch at the David Jones Food Hall and a cup of perfect espresso to wash it down. Maybe a walk by the beach with a camera now and again.

Well, friends, I’ve had it up to here with the lotus-eating life. What I should have been doing instead was tramping up thickly-forested mountain paths carrying my home on my back and shedding kilos with every stride.

What went wrong

In a word, the pandemic.

I had flights booked — business class there and back — accommodation organised at beginning and end, and a substantial deposit paid with the even more substantial balance imminent.

And then, what began as a storm in China, and then a few spots here and there, turned into a monsoon engulfing the world and we all scurried inside for shelter.

The tour company contacted me. Very sorry, events beyond our control, happy to keep your deposit against a trip next year…

Qantas advised my flights were cancelled and took their sweet time returning my points and keeping most of the fees. I had to eat one of the hotels, but the other allowed cancellation. Travel insurance didn’t cover pandemics.

All in all, it was an expensive pandemic for me, but on the bright side, it’s only money, I still have my job. And my life.

And the kilos

Regular readers here will be aware that I was in training for the hike, trudging with trekking poles up and down the few slopes that Melbourne offers, choosing backpacks and boots, trying on technoclobber undergarments, and grinding my credit card down to bare plastic buying lightweight monsoonwear.

But I was getting fit, losing weight, feeling good.

Oh well. I can always do it again next year. Trudge off all those kilos from the iso.

The land of the three-legged crow

My destination was (and hopefully, will be) the ancient Japanese pilgrimage trail called the Kumano Kodo.

For some reason, the symbol of this journey is a three-legged crow. Just like the symbol of the twinned Camino de Santiago is a shell. Branding, I suppose.

It’s also the land of the Giant Asian Murder Hornet, Japanese Tourist-Devouring Bear and Nude Public Bathing, all of them very good reasons to be in top shape and able to traverse great distances in a flash.

The tour — and here’s a link to a typical itinerary — takes about a week all told. I’d planned to bookend it with a day in Osaka to recover from the rigours of the long flight in a premium cabin, and four days in Tokyo to recover from the mountain trekking.

I can take a fair bit of Japanese city life. A combination of incomprehensible, magic, majesty, and chaos with awesome food and neverending shopping, Japan’s cities are kind of like a science fiction Disneyland. Enchanting and bewildering,

I’ve spent time in both cities previously, though I regard Osaka as more of a gateway to Kyoto, which is a place I really love.

However, there is more to Japan than the big cities, and I’m always happy to turn to the spiritual, natural heart of a culture. The Kumano Kodo promised oodles of both, dotted with temples and shrines, mountains, forests, and rivers.

And cutesy little villages where we trekkers would stay each night, sleeping in ryokans on futons, leaving our hiking boots at the door and shuffling around in slippers.

Adventure postponed

Apart from my trip to New Zealand earlier, this year is not going to end up with any extra stamps in my passport. I’ll have to survive on dreams of future glory, I guess.

Next year I’m hoping to get to Finland, a place I’ve not yet visited unless you count a few steps on the tarmac at Helsinki. Japan and Finland, not a bad combination.

And maybe, the year after that I can fill in the stamps for the Camino in Spain, which is twinned with the Kumano. Apparently dual pilgrims get extra points and bragging rights in the hiking clubs.

Then again, maybe this mountain trekking thing will destroy me, and future holidays will be taken on my couch. We’ll see.

Britni

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