First of all a shout-out to all the people that offered me their hospitality in Japan through either CouchSurfing.com and HospitalityClub.org. Without you I would never have been able to enjoy Japan as much as I did, and besides that you where the ones that learnt me a lot about Japanese culture and traditions, a thing that would have been impossible would I have been camping out all the time. Ken (+parents), Greg, Yohei (+parents), Yuri and Erika once more, thanks a lot!!
It has been close to two months since I arrived to Japan, a marvelous and interesting country. The price, okay, it's not exactly cheap around here, but by spending most of my nights in my wonderful little tent, and staying over with people inviting me through CouchSurfing.com for example, it is still quite possible to travel around, even if you are on a budget. Not having to pay for your overnight stay, as is normally the case when camping, allows you to pretty much spend all your money on buying food. Which is exactly what I do; delicious!
Surprisingly there is a whole lot of nature to be found in an industrialised country like Japan; parks, forests, rivers, lakes and meddows. After sunset scared deer jump themselves to safety and have their howls going round. Besides that you need to be aware of the possible treat of foxes and bears. There is a multitude of birds, whistling from their trees or hunting around, floating around on an impressive wide wing-span, and at times you can find dead snakes and furry small mammals along the road-side. At some parts of the country hunting-season has started, resulting in sleepless, noisy nights, while in other parts trees and flowers are still blooming freely.
While cycling around I see the start and finish of rice-harvesting season, yellow stalks are manually cut off the fields, and dried upon wooden constructions, after which they are beaten off and processed. Potatoes, onions and carrots are coming out of the ground in Hokkaido, while slightly further to the south massive amounts of apples, mandarins and khaki taken of the trees and mushrooms grow everywhere. And all of this in a country of which your first thought would probably be that of enormous metropolises of shining glass buildings, neon lights, television walls above the streets and electronic gadgets.
In reality however, there appears to be a huge internal separation in how modern the country actually is. While computer gadgets and digital cameras are sold everywhere, and toilets have a heating system in their seats, a lot of houses lack any form of insulation or central heating, are the showers operated on an extremely unsafe and annoying gas system and do you have to make sure somebody in your neighbourhood is willing to take care of you once you end up in the hospital. There is still a whole lot of layers in society that modern times have not reached yet.
My initial cross-over to Japan seems to be frustrated due to the fact that the ticket salesman in Busan, starts complaining on the fact that I just buy myself a one-way ticket, which, according to him, would never be allowed by Japanese immigration. After he also happened to stumble upon the load of Arabian stamps in my passport (which are non of his business anyway, as he was not working with immigration himself), he starts to make even more trouble, and refused to sell me my ticket.
He starts to call all sorts of people, and suddenly starts talking about Thailand. I don't have a clue what his reasoning was on that point, but he really want to know if I ever visited that country. After promising him several times that I had never visited the South East Asian republic, all of a sudden all problems dissolved, he offered me his apologies for behaving the way he did, and wished me good look on the continuation of my trip.
Understandably I got slightly nervous upon approaching Japanese Immigration next day, as I didn't feel like getting into a situation like that of the day before. And also, as usual, I didn't carry any proof of onward travel, so first question asked was where I was heading for. I explain that I am planning on riding my bicycle from Hokkaido in the north, all the way to Okinawa in the south, and plan on taking a ferry to Taiwan after. The guy handling my application was obviously impressed with that, he wished me good luck and welcomed me to his country!
The first thing I do upon leaving the ferry-terminal is getting myself lost, while looking for the next terminal 200 meters down the road. I end up entering some sort of highway office to ask for directions, which results in half the office starting to print out maps on how to get there, and a little company van to be set aside to escort me to my destination. Once there I am handed one of their phones to speak to someone capable of English to help me with buying my ticket, and once all of that is sorted out they tell me to get into the van; where going to lunch together for a lunch down-town. Getting lost starts to look like fun like this!
Down town we end up in some noodle place Japanese style. Outside there is a ticket machine, at which you choose your meal and pay for it. A ticket then comes out, and you are positioned in a small one-person cubicle, in which they will hand you your plate of udon through a small hole in the wall. A push to a button rings a bell and tells the waiters you're willing to accept your second serving. Completely anonymous. A little strange, but very interesting.
The next two days I spend on the ferry. All the way to Hokkaido, just like I was planning to, followed by a short cycle to Sapporo. Once there a very hospitable reception by Ken and my first period of waiting, a new tire (that was in urgent need for replacement for a couple of weeks already) need to get shipped all the way from Tokyo. During this time Ken and his mom introduce me to the Japanese cuisine. Miso soup, teriyaki, Genghis-khan, sushi, sashimi, nato-beans, fish eyes and a whole assortment of other dishes whose names I don't know, but I don't think there is a whole lot of aspects to Japanese cooking they didn't show me. Delicious!
In my opinion Hokkaido is quite a nice island, but slightly over-rated. Natural surroundings are pure and beautiful, endless forests and rough seas, but just not varied enough. This might be due to the route I planned on taking; first head off to the extreme north of Japan and then ride around the island. The problem is that the eastern and middle part of the island just happen to be the most interesting areas, and in exactly those areas I didn't spend a whole lot of time. Besides that the heavy rains that fell at times weren't really helping on experiencing a feeling of ultimate joy.
Halfway between Sapporo and Wakkanai I meet American cyclists George. We end up riding together for a day, but he seems to be slightly more resistant to rain than I am, so next morning he decides to brake up in full rain, while I am trying to kill time with the cycling magazine he gave me the day before, and which gives me a full update on the state of affairs concerning last summer's Tour de France. Eventually however, I also make my way north, and after a couple of days of sunny weather I end up in prisoner's village Abashiri, which gets me caught in as well due to a typhoon passing by.
I spend my nights in a Rider House, a special kind of budget accommodation designed for (motor)cyclists. Rain and wind, that shouldn't be to much of a problem for a Dutch boy, I figure, so I start out on a 20-minute walk to the local library, only dressed in a simple wind stopper. Completely soaked I arrive. The winds are so strong it's hardly possible to walk your way through, and a lashing wall of rain and a steaming mass of pitch black water under the bridges. Whether I saw the famous salmons? Yeah, they were floating around on top of the water a couple of days later. Dead of course.. Next time I end up in a typhoon I'd better make sure to wear some decent clothing.
When a couple of days later I finally get outside again, sun and lots of rain are taking turns, which means getting soaked once more. I spend my nights in Rider Houses to at least have a roof above my head, for free in some porta-cabin on a parking-lot next to the train station, and in a great place in the forest with a couple of cool motorcyclists, that keep on surprising me with amazing traditional meals. Furano, a place to remember.
Back to Sapporo to get a couple of brake pads and take the boat to Japan's mail island; Honshu. Greg hosts me in confusing Hachinohe and introduces me to a most wonderful onsen, that come with a strange touch at times. For one they offer an electrical bath (which the Japanese love; I'd rather stay away from it), and a complete cinema inside the sauna. And I keep on riding. The country side keeps on being quite rural, but somehow it gets to me more. There's something going on here. It's got some sort of deeper layer. Ken already complained to me on how Hokkaido was beautiful, but didn't really have it's own identity due to the lack of an own culture. I slowly start to understand what he meant by this.
Along idyllic lakes, through deep gorges, green woods, but nature is in charge here and eats its way into the streets. On wooden constructions rice and other crops are being dried, and fruits, enormous and juicy, are hanging from the many trees. Beautiful autumn colors, intense and containing every tint on the spectrum, from red as fire to golden yellow, green, brown and everything in between. Clear streams along the road and surprisingly, at times it actually seems to be quieter than it was on Hokkaido.
Via some samurai village and an old temple which contains a completely golden chamber (unfortunately not as spectacular as it sounds), I once more ride myself into the rain. That same night I was supposed to meet up with Yohei, so I decided to keep on going, longing for a hot bad and a roof above my head. Completely soaked, with plastic bags around my hands and feet, I manage to make it to the town of Tendo. That's where, after a whole lot of hospitality and great food prepared by his parents, and an accidental meet-up with Yuri, my second period of waiting starts. A special saddle-bolt I need to replace takes a lot longer to arrive than I expected. Once I finally got it, it also happens to be to narrow, which means dedicating a full afternoon to grating it to size.
In the mean time I try to discover the village's surroundings; the imposing temple-complex of Yamadere, the boundary between this world and the after world which is over-grown with enormous cypresses, and wonderful small forest roads, steep ascends and enjoying the cliff I am riding along, and then, all of a sudden, a huge troop of monkeys grazing in a field. A great surprise, and I can't take my eyes of them. I always thought monkeys would live in tropical areas, which is, with freezing temperatures at night, certainly not what I would count this area under.
I enjoy some more mountains and then head back to the coasts of the East Sea, of which I left the shores weeks ago, but at that time completely on the other side, back in Korea. The road is spectacularly build through cliffs and even on bridges right through the sea itself, while the more in-land section are surrounded by bamboo forests. Beautiful.
I notice my bike starts to make more and more sounds, and in the end I conclude that my rear hub must be the cause. Some local village bike repairman re-greases the whole thing, which takes away the nasty noises, but still leaves me with an ever increasing problem when trying to change gears. Once I arrive to Erika in Olympic Nagano a couple of days later, the third period starts. A visit to the local bike store, a phone call to her husband and also contacting my own bike store back home. After a lot of discussion we finally manage to track down the problem, probably a worn out axle and free body. Fortunately I manage to order the required parts locally and it seems to be possible to fix the whole thing, but of course this takes a lot of time. Time I use to go speed-skating on the famous ice of the Nagano M-Wave (I skate like crap though), and every night having culinary fun in a real kitchen, which ends up in a diet of curries and Italian and Mexican dishes, great.
If all goes well my bike should be fixed by this weekend, allowing me to continue my tour to the south.
Until the next update!
Eelco
