In 2011, a magnitude-9.0 earthquake struck 75 km off the north-east coast of Japan. It unleashed a massive tidal wave that devastated the coastal villages and towns. The enormous rebuilding effort over the next 10 years means that much of the physical damage has been repaired. In an effort to boost economic recovery and restore tourism to the region, some far-sighted people decided to develop a long-distance walk. The philosophy was to create a "a long distance nature trail running from Fukushima up to Aomori which can act as a 'bridge' connecting nature, local lifestyles, and traces of the disaster with hikers". Thus the Michinoku Coastal Trail gradually came into being, linking many separate tracks into an epic 1025 km long walk. It was officially opened in its full length in 2019.

Since then, an increasing number of walkers have travelled to Japan to do all or part of the trail. Now it is our turn. We don't have the time to do all the walk, so based on past walkers experiences and descriptions, we have selected four sections - two as day-walks and two as overnight walks. As well as having well-placed accommodation centres, which gives the option of camping or staying in a lodge or hotel, the area is well served by the Hachinohe and Sanriku rail lines. This made transport between sections, to starting points and from ending points an easy proposition.

It's time to get going - we hope that you enjoy the walk.

The shrine had a superb setting, perched on a rocky promontory that overlooked an impressive system of tsunami barricades that looked like they were designed to break up a big wave. It is also home to over 40,000 black-winged gulls in breeding season and one or two when we walked through. We had arrived early, as the Shrine opened at 8.30am, and decided to wait for 30 minutes to climb the steps and have a closer look - it was worth it.

Then we were off, crossing a small beach to follow a rocky coastline out of the urbanised area, with the polar wind at our backs. Soon after passing a couple of colourful fisherman's huts, we walked beneath Samekado Lighthouse to reach Ashigezaki Lookout, situated on the site of a WW2 naval observation platform. As expected, it commanded impressive views along the coast in all directions.

Leaving the platform, we crossed a small point capped with pines and turned southwards to pass by an impressive section of coastal rocks and reach Osuka Beach, where we found ourselves in the lee of the wind feeling pleasantly warm. The beach was a long and broad stretch of tan-coloured sand backed by a pine-covered slope, and we strolled down to the sound of a gentle surf - a reverie only broken when an unexpected gust whipped my hat off and blew it into the sea. So now I have waded in the North Pacific Ocean and walked barefoot down a Japanese beach beneath a dripping hat.

At the far end, we crossed a small stream to reach the sweeping curve of Shirihama Beach, clearly a place people frequent in summer, but today the wind-rippled sand remained undisturbed. A small pavilion at the back of the beach provided a good spot for a break while my hat dried in the sun.

Heading on, we passed a small fishing port, again strangely devoid of people, to reach Cape Tamurazaki, a series of sheer rock fingers capped with pines and separated by narrow inlets - a quite spectacular rockscape. On the southern side of the Cape, we dropped down into Fukakubo fishing port, where the natural rock islands had been bolstered by jumbles of artificial sea-wall to provide protection for the boats.

Leaving the small port, we climbed gently up into a grove of 100-year old red pines. The Tumarazaki-Yohodo pines had been planted along the cliffs to protect the villages from strong seawinds. It was pleasant walking beneath their dark canopy. A short detour led us up to a cave once inhabited by a hermit who came here to meditate on the beauty of this region.

By way of complete contrast, we emerged from the pines onto a rolling landcape of bare grass above the low coastal cliffs. Known as the Tanesashi Natural Lawn, it was a well-mown area of grass, so we weren't too sure about the "natural" -lost on translation, perhaps.

From the lawn, we crossed a small beach to reach Minamihama Fishing Port. The amount and size of breakwaters here is impressive, and we passed a place where they were moulding more of the massive tetrahedral spiked concrete blocks used to build them. Tsunami protection is a large-scale operation here.

Breakwater shrine

Leaving the port, we followed a track through the bush that brought us to a set of stairs leading up to Taikawa Lookout, the highest rocky knoll on this section of the coast. It was a good place for lunch and offered impressive views of the coast southwards towards Okuki Port. As we ate, cloud began to invade the sky and, as soon as the sun disappeared, the arctic chill set in.

Retracing our steps from the lookout, we walked across the quiet streets of Okuki town and down to the port, with its boats, nets and shrine, but no people, before looping back to Okuki Train Station.

This was where we needed to catch a train back to Hachinohe and our hotel - one left at 1408 and the next at 1806, so we were keen not to miss the first. The two-carriage train duly arrived and slowly wound its way along the coast, giving us a second chance to appreciate the diverse landscapes and seascapes along the Tanesashi Coast.

It had been a good introduction to walking the MCT, but we were glad to finally get back into the warmth of our room - 10°C is not our favourite walking temperature.

We actually had a moving day yesterday not a walking one to shift our base from Hachinohe to Tanohata, so that we could walk a different section of the MCT - the Kitayamazaki Cliffs. It was a pleasant trip, however, as we travelled down the coast by train, first on the Hachinohe Line in a two-carriage train to Kiju, which gave us a bit of a look at some of the coast we wouldn't be walking, and the villages that line it (23 stops in all on the train). Then, with a 6-minute turnover, it was onto the Sanriku Line in a one-carriage train that continued on along the coast, sometimes heading inland to pass beneath densely forested hills through tunnels long and short. Nothing stops the Japanese rail system. It was a very pleasant train trip and we even has some splashes of autumn colour on the way.

It was even more pleasant when we walked down to our hotel from the station to the glorious views over the small fishing port and coastline beyond from our window. Add to that a very large onsen with ocean views and the best meal we have had yet in Japan (think abalone, several types of sashimi, prawns, duck, pork and vegetable hotpot, miso soup, rice and icecream) and you can see why we are feeling content despite the 8°C temperature and despite that orange f...wit winning the election in the USA (God help us all).

Today it is time to begin day 2, so we hopped back on the train to retrace our journey by two stops and disembark at tiny Shirai-kaigan Station, wedged between two tunnels, and start walking. The road from the station wound its way down a narrow valley to Shirai Fishing Port, where it continued on through a 200m long tunnel before winding back up the next narow valley - such is the coastline here. The walking was easy and the sun was shining, but the cold air had a bite to it.

Part way up the road, we turned off onto a narrow track that led into the forest, before crossing a small stream and climbing steeply up. It led us up to a ridge, with views between the deciduous trees to the blue Pacific Ocean. Winding its way around on a brown leafy carpet beneath the yellowing leaves of the trees, it gradually climbed further to pass through a grove of firs, before starting a steep descent down the western side of the ridge. It was pleasant walking beneath the splashes of autumn colour - that is until we reached a saddle.

A pleasant stroll beneath the firs

Here we turned left to follow a tiny stream down its narrow valley beneath the dark canopy of the firs. I mean follow quite literally, as for most of the time the partly boggy, partly muddy, partly water stream was the actual path. It was a slow trip down and I suspect one of the more adventurous sections of the MCT, as we picked our way carefully along, until finally the valley opened out a bit and the track headed out of the stream bed for a drier and wider path.

This brought us out into Fudai, but instead of heading into town, we turned east to cross the river on the famous 16m tsunami barricade that saved Fudai from destruction when the tsunami struck in 2011 (it is famous because other towns had lower barricades that were over-topped by the giant waves, which resulted in huge amounts of destruction and loss of life).

a wall of concrete
a wall of thundering water
only one prevails - Fudai

Reaching Fudai Hama Beach, we stopped for a cup of coffee to warm us up. The clouds were beginning to win the sky and the polar wind had swung to the north-east, exposing coastwalkers to its icy gusts.

Just around from Fudai Beach lay a picturesque small fishing port, while on the other side of a 300m long road tunnel that we passed through was the industrial scale fishing port of Otanabe - big seawalls, big boats, big buildings, but again no people, which we are finding increasingly curious.

Another shorter tunnel brought us to a section where the road ran right next to the coast. With the big North Pacific swell crashing up against the rock support wall of the road system. The swell was quite big in this strong north-easterly air stream. Another road tunnel led us into a valley above Kurasaki Fishing Port, once again a small-scale port, though, like all, with impressive seawalls protecting the boats within.

We followed a twisting road down to the port. It was time for lunch and, despite the ferocious wind which forced us into beanies, gloves and goretexes, we managed to found a little bit of shelter to replenish lost energy. Reaching the port, we climbed over the seawall to be greeted by the Nedarihama Nature Trail - one of the most scenic 500m of walking track we have seen anywhere. The shoreline comprised a rock face plunging into the sea, with numerous jagged rocks just offshore and a wild Pacific swell pounding into the rocks and swirling about in a chaos of foam. Just to make it more interesting, a path had been cut into the rock face a few metres above the angry sea - it was coastal scenery that we had not seen before.

To make things even more interesting, at the end of the path we passed through a hand-dug tunnel in the rock to reach the stony shore of Nedari Beach, wedged into the exit of a narrow valley.

School childrens' art at the Nedari Beach walker's shelter

Here, however, the MCT organisers have converted an old fishing building into a shelter - it was great to get out of the wind and have a rest before the last big climb of the day - a zig-zagging track of many steps up through the forest on the steep slopes to the heights of the Kurasaki Cliffs above us.

On reaching the top, we stooped at Kurasaki Lookout to take-in the sweeping view of the coastline to the north, before heading on towards our accommodation for the night - Kurasakiso Lodge, situated near the edge of the cliff with glorious views out over the Pacific Ocean. One claim to fame of the lodge is that it rests on the line of Latitude 40°N. Just before reaching the Lodge, we detoured to visit the Rikucho-Kurasaki Lighthouse, elegantly perched on its cliff-edge eyrie. It gave us a good view to the south of the Kitayamazaki Cliffs and our walk tomorrow.

Then it was off to the lodge - it felt so good to be out of the frigid arctic airstream and even better to be soaking in an onsen overlooking the Pacific Ocean. It had been a spectacular walk and whet our appetites for more tomorrow when the winds were forecast to abate, even though the temperature would remain in single digit territory.

The morning was cold and high cloud obscured the sun as we set out from Kurasakiso Lodge to complete our traverse of the Kitayamazaki Cliffs region. First, however, we dropped down to the Anmoura Lookout to preview the cliff-line to the south and have a look at the thin silver thread of the Anmoura Falls cascading 100m from the cliffs to the sea.

We climbed back up from the lookout and set out on the trail, which meandered and undulated its way through some very nice forest, showing splashes of autumn colour amongst its greenery and crossing a series of small streams. It took over two kilometres to reach the first view point, which looked back towards Kurasakiso Lodge and the lighthouse high on a cliff-face, probably only a kilometre away as the crow flies.

This brought us to a different stage of the walk. The streams flowing out to the cliff-line ahead had carved wider and deeper valleys. There were four of them, meaning some big loops to ascend one side of the valley to a point where we could cross the stream without dropping down too far, followed by a gentle descent back to the cliff-line until the next deep valley.

It was quite pleasant walking on a brown leafy carpet, and we got to see a bit of the hinterland, with open country as well as forest. The bonus on this section was spotting a serow (Japanese goat-antelope), standing on the track and daring us to make the first move.

On reaching the top of the last big loop, thinking here we go again, we had a pleasant surprise. Instead of crossing the stream and staying high, we followed it down into a deep and beautiful gorge .... down, down, down to emerge almost at sea-level.

That was the only downside, as it meant a long, but steady climb up a grassy road, with a final stepped path to descend into and climb out of a deep valley in the fir forest. It brought us out at the Kitayamazaki Visitors Centre and sunshine. This proved a very pleasant place for lunch, sitting down on the Lookout platform, taking in the superb views of cliffs and arches to the south. This really is an amazing coastline.

sheer rock walls plunge down
from green-crowned forest mantle
to surging blue waves
land confronts endless water
at kitomyazaki

The amazing Kitayamizaki coastline

The track here headed down steeply along a set of 700 steps to the stony cove below. At step 200, we made a short detour out to a second viewpoint over the southern cliff-line. The cove was a great spot, and being next to one of these off-shore rocks and arches gave some perspective to what we saw from the lookouts.

Unfortunately, who goes down must go up. We retraced the steps up a bit before diverging left to climb steadily up another rocky gully until a set of wooden steps (all 420 of them) appeared that led us directly up the steep gully wall to the top of the cliff-line again. Even on a cold day, we were hot and sweaty at the top.

The broad-leaf forest on the cliff-tops

From here, the track seemed easier on the map, lots of little wiggles on the cliff edge. Not so, the little wiggles were the track makers efforts to maintain a contour across a region of deep streams flowing out of the cliff as well as knolls and ridges. There was a lot of descending and climbing, often on steps, as we pushed our way along beneath the forest canopy. Out through the trees, we could see the ocean and occasionally, look down the throat of a gully plunging down into it.

This pattern continued until one last steep and stepped descent brought us out to a tiny fishing port and beautiful Kitayama Beach. It was nice to see the cliffs from their base. A short road tunnel led us through to the next cove, avoiding another big climb.

Emerging from the tunnel, we seemed to be in a blind end with sheer cliffs all around - oh well, follow the track. It led up to a small ledge. On the other side was a ladder and beyond it a hole in the base of the cliff. We had reached the mysterious hand-hewn tunnels - a pair of curving tunnels a couple of hundred metres long connecting three small coves hemmed in by the cliffs.

It was time to bring out the headtorches for their first and only use in Japan and head on through. As we emerged onto the third cove, there were no more tunnels, just a long set of steps leading up the steep side of a very narrow ridge backing the cove ... one last big climb.

Yet another beautiful boulder-strewn cove

We reached the top of the ridge and wandered along it, barely a metre wide in places, before our last big stepped descent down to the small fishing port of Tsukue-hama. The sign indicating the level of the 2011 tsunami at the edge of the trees and way above the rooves of houses was a sobering sight - all buildings here are 12-years old or less.

That really was the end of the adventure - we were still three kilometres away from our hotel, but from here it was all on a footpath alongside the road - a bit anticlimactic albeit a quiet road. We crossed Aketo Beach, where the smashed remains of their seawall have been left as a reminder of the tsunami, rounded the next headland and walked into the hotel.

The information says that this is one of the most memorable parts of the coast. I can't argue with that. The scenery was spectacular and the walking at times adventurous, with cliffs experienced from below and above, gorges, forest and tunnels. We really appreciated the onsen at our hotel afterwards - we ended up walking 20 km, with 1000m of ascending and even more descending, in repeated smaller doses rather than one big climb. That's what I call a hard day at the office.