Tokyo · the Michinoku Coastal Trail · the Izu Peninsula · October 2026
Day Eight
The big day: the cliffs of Kitayamazaki, two hundred metres straight up out of the Pacific.
Fudai to the Kitayamazaki Observatory · trail day five · Saturday 10 October 2026
1.46pm. The arch, from the top of the cliff. Sent without a name.
Fifteen photographs, all from the afternoon, from the phone that has sent the trail since Thursday — still without a name, and this time without a subject either. From 1.45 the cliffs seen from the top: an arch standing in the sea, stacks with pines growing out of them, the swell breaking white at their feet a long way down. By 3.24 a tatami room with the futons out, at 3.26 a harbour wall, and at 4.43 one of the women on the seawall in front of a white hotel, the sun going down over the tetrapods.
The 1.45 looks along the coast from above: a line of cliffs going away into the haze, stacks standing off them, the water turquoise at the edge and dark blue beyond. The two 1.46s are the arch — a rock island with a hole worn clean through it, pines on top, surf working at its base — and the cliffs behind. The 1.54 is the cliff face itself through the trees, the 1.57 the arch again framed by pine trunks from a path along the top. The two 2.01s are the view the other way: stacks and headlands one behind the other, the sea breaking white around every one, and the 2.04 the same from a bench under the pines. At 2.36 a last look down at a pinnacle in the blue.
Nobody wrote a line with Saturday’s photographs, and no subject was tapped. Fifteen frames came in on their own, at 8.10 on Sunday morning. The log has added nothing.
The 3.24 is the room: shoji screens, a low table with a tea tray, two futons made up on the tatami and a window full of light. The 3.26 looks down on a small harbour — a breakwater, one boat at the wall, a wooded point beyond. At 4.43 one of the women stands on the seawall in a green cardigan and a blue scarf, the white block of the hotel on the hill behind her, and the 4.44 is the hotel itself, lit along one floor, the water in front. The 4.45 is the breakwater: grey concrete tetrapods piled against the sea and the sky going orange over a headland. The 4.48 is the last frame, a cliff face above a stone wall, the light nearly gone.
Virginia’s 8.34 is a family of beckoning cats on a shelf; her 8.46 the two hosts at the door of the inn seeing them off. The 9.42 and 9.47 are timber steps up through the forest, one of the women climbing ahead. At 1.58 and 1.59 the signs: 510 steps to the beach, 155 steps to the 2nd observation platform, 8.6 km to Aketo. The 2.06 is a cluster of white daisies by the path, the 2.35 a bear’s head mounted in a glass case, the 2.39 the trail banner on a pole. The 3.24 is the room with a view to the sea, the 3.32 a tea set in a lacquer box. A short portrait clip, and the long table at dinner, with everyone down both sides.
A hole worn through the rock, and the sun down over the tetrapods.