Four Pairs of Boots: A 3,200 Kilometre Hike the Length of Japan by Craig McLachlan

Author:Craig McLachlan
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Travelogues, Japan, Cultural, Travel, Non-Fiction
ISBN: 9781492207856
Publisher: Paradise Promotions Ltd
Published: 2013-10-16T23:00:00+00:00

8. BEACH PARTIES

My day off in Otsuka was marvelous. I managed to catch up on all those things I had been meaning to do for ages, such as write postcards, mend my shoes, and cut my hair. Hirayama Island was like a relaxing resort.

“Shall I fix your shorts?” asked Mrs Hirayama, holding up my tattered trousers and barely suppressing a giggle. Half the crotch had worn away, but they were much more comfortable for walking. I just had to be careful of the way I sat.

“No thanks, they’re easier to walk in like that!” Mr Hirayama laughed aloud, and I’m sure all of Otsuka will remember me for my breezy shorts. She had done my washing and had me all prepared for the push up the coast.

Mentally, I wasn’t quite as ready. I had a steady throbbing in my head, thanks to Mr Hirayama’s various brews. A master of the tea ceremony, he was definitely not a master of brewing. His mixture of shochu and ginger had been palatable, I’ll give him that. But his kiwifruit concoction had boasted unpeeled, wizened-up fruit that looked like the sort of things I find in my son’s diapers, floating in a big jar of yellowly liquid. It took quite an effort to empty my glass. No sooner had I done so than an earthquake rattled the house.

“Don’t look at me. I didn’t do anything!” I joked, but nobody got it.

The village kids had followed my every move, and I had even caught two watching me have a bath. A pair of brothers arrived for my departure, bringing a mamori to keep me safe on my travels. It joined the others on my backpack. They had drawn rather flattering pictures of me in my walking gear. Incredibly long legs, a mop of yellow hair and a big nose. It was tough to leave, but when I finally tore myself away from all the care and attention, as on the first day, I had an escort through the paddies. The kids didn’t know whether to wave or cry, and even Mrs Hirayama had a tear in her eye. I did too.

The paddies around Otsuka were huge—at least the size of a football field. A credit to Mr Hirayama’s foresight, they could easily be worked by machinery, unlike the countless small, irregular shaped paddies that had been there for centuries. A couple of years before, he had taken the plunge and invested in converting his small labour-intensive paddies into a few machine-manageable larger ones that were competitive and more productive. He could now produce more with less effort.

His other wise move was to encourage his son not to be a farmer, he said. He foresaw that it would be difficult for a family to live by farming alone. Another income would be necessary. And so his son, my friend, had become a schoolteacher. With the new, big paddies, it was easy to supplement a teacher’s salary with the production of rice without spending too much time on farming.

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