Long before Japan became known for its neon-lit cities, bullet trains, and bustling streets, people were making their way through its mountains in search of something deeper.
The Kumano Kodo is a network of ancient pilgrimage trails winding through the forested mountains of the Kii Peninsula. For more than a thousand years, pilgrims have traveled these paths to reach the sacred Kumano shrines. Emperors, monks, nobles, and ordinary people all made the journey, drawn by the region’s spiritual significance and the belief that its mountains were a sacred place. In 2004, the routes became part of a UNESCO World Heritage Site.
But the Kumano Kodo isn't just one trail. It is a collection of routes, each with its own history, landscapes, and challenges. I chose the Iseji route, which connects Ise Grand Shrine with the sacred Kumano region. It is a path that has been walked for centuries, passing through mountain passes, rural villages, and landscapes that feel a world away from modern Japan.
My journey began at Ise Grand Shrine, one of the most important Shinto sites in the country. The shrine’s Inner Sanctuary is dedicated to Amaterasu, the sun goddess and ancestral deity of Japan’s imperial family. Walking through its peaceful grounds, surrounded by towering trees and traditional wooden structures, was a beautiful way to begin a journey rooted in Japanese history and spirituality.

There was something special about starting a long walk at a place that had drawn pilgrims for generations. I wasn't an emperor or a monk, and I wasn't traveling for the same reasons as the people who had walked these roads centuries ago. I was simply there to experience Japan in a different way.
And that experience turned out to be about much more than walking.




One of my favorite things about backpacking the Kumano Kodo was the villages scattered along the route.
Japan is often portrayed through its major cities, famous landmarks, and crowded tourist destinations. Those places are incredible in their own right, but walking through the countryside revealed another side of the country.
The trail carried me through small villages where life seemed to move at a different pace. There were quiet roads, traditional homes, and stretches of countryside where the mountains felt like the dominant presence. Each village offered a brief glimpse into everyday life far removed from the usual tourist experience.
I stayed in small guesthouses along the way, and those overnight stops became an important part of the adventure. Rather than returning to a hotel in a major city, I was spending my evenings in the same rural communities I had walked through during the day.

I also met some wonderful people along the route. Those encounters reminded me that traveling isn't only about the places you see. Sometimes, the people you meet along the way become just as memorable as the destination itself.
One of those encounters happened on an ordinary day in an ordinary village.



At some point along the journey, I came across an old man sitting on the front porch of his home.
There was nothing particularly remarkable about the setting. It was just a quiet village, a house, and an old man enjoying some time outside.

I ended up smoking a cigarette with him on his porch.
It was one of those random moments that would probably never make it onto a typical travel itinerary. There was no famous landmark, no carefully planned activity, and no big attraction waiting around the corner. Just two people sharing a small moment in the middle of the Japanese countryside.
That's one of the things I love about traveling. You can plan your route, book your accommodation, and research every destination, but you can't schedule the little interactions that make a journey memorable.
I had set out to walk an ancient pilgrimage trail, but along the way, I found myself appreciating moments that had nothing to do with the trail itself.
Sometimes, the best memories come from doing absolutely nothing special.



Of course, not every moment on the Kumano Kodo was peaceful.
One day, while crossing a mountain pass, I ran straight into a spider web.
Now, walking through a forest means accepting that you're going to encounter some insects. That's part of being outdoors. But this wasn't just a little web that I could brush away and forget about.
The web had eggs in it, and when I ran into it, spiders went everywhere.
Suddenly, I had spiders on me, spiders around me, and absolutely no interest in remaining where I was standing.
I panicked.

In a moment of pure instinct, I ended up rolling down a hill while trying to get away from the situation. It probably wasn't my most graceful moment on the trail, but at that point, grace was the last thing on my mind.
There I was, hiking a historic Japanese pilgrimage route, surrounded by ancient forests and centuries of spiritual history, and I had just been defeated by a spider web.
It's funny looking back on it now, but in that moment, I was genuinely freaked out.
Travel has a way of humbling you. You can set out expecting beautiful scenery, personal growth, and meaningful encounters, only to discover that sometimes your biggest challenge is keeping your composure when a bunch of spiders decide to make your day interesting.
I imagine the ancient pilgrims had their own unexpected challenges along these same mountains. I'm not sure how many of them rolled down hills to escape spiders, but I like to think I wasn't the first person to have a questionable moment on the trail.



When I think back on my time backpacking the Kumano Kodo, I remember the beauty of the route, the small villages, and the guesthouses where I spent my nights. I remember the wonderful people I met and the unexpected moments that made the journey uniquely mine.
But what stands out most is how different the experience felt from traveling through Japan's major cities.
On the Kumano Kodo, the journey itself was the destination. There was no need to rush from one attraction to the next or fill every hour with something to do. I could simply walk, take in the scenery, meet people, and see what each day brought.
The history of the trail gave the experience another layer. Knowing that people had walked these same mountain paths for centuries made the journey feel connected to something much older than my own travels.
And yet, my memories of the route aren't limited to its sacred sites or historic significance. They're also made up of ordinary moments: a conversation on a stranger's porch, a night in a small guesthouse, and a rather undignified escape from a spider web.

That's what makes travel special to me. You can visit a place for its history, but the memories you carry home are often the ones you never could have planned.
The Kumano Kodo gave me a chance to experience a quieter, more personal side of Japan. It was beautiful, occasionally terrifying, and full of unexpected encounters.
And if I learned anything from the journey, it's that you should always leave room for the unexpected.
Even if that means occasionally losing a fight with a spider.