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1 February: it's still dark when we shuffle our way into the Fukuchi-in’s ornate main hall. Even at a few minutes before 7 am, we are almost too late. All the seats close to the oil stove are taken, which means that the air around the remaining ones is close to the temperature outside. That’s fine: we are both dressed for an alpine bivouac. Soon three monks file in - or is it fo...

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31 January: Admittedly, the Sensei had difficulty in following my logic. We’d voted to take a break from ceaseless snow shovelling in her home town. And what was I proposing but an overnight stay on a freezing snow-covered plateau at eight hundred metres? OK, she agreed reluctantly, but only if there’s an onsen.


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24 January: forty-seven centimetres of snow have fallen on the Sensei’s hometown in the last couple of days, enforcing on us what Scottish climbers are pleased to call a “fester”. 

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22 January: the hotel’s hyperborean temperatures help me go for an asa-ichi alpine start. Out on the street, the wind knifes through several layers of fibrepile. This is no day to be up a mountain; it will be challenge enough to work out how to get home from Shikoku.

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21 January: I report back to the Sadamitsu Taxi company at 7.15 am. At a quarter to eight, the boss comes in and convenes a works council. No, they can’t drive me to the summer starting point, as the road up there is too icy for their two-wheel-drive Toyotas. But they can go as far as the bridge at Kuwadaira (Mulberry Flats) at 600 metres. That’ll do fine, I say, and a young dri...

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