It Begins - Niigata to Osaka

I fully intended on writing a big final sum up of my time here in Japan. And a counter culture shock thingy about being back home. And a "Day 1: Into the wild blue yonder"-type post to launch off the big adventure. My eyes have unfortunately always been bigger than my stomach though. It turns out, what with moving and goodbyes and a million and one things to get done before riding off, I somehow ran out of time. Instead you are getting the diet version of all three rolled into one, as I recuperate from yesterday's adventures in an internet cafe.


Goodbye Japan

One last burger at Bar 66

The last few months in Japan were an absolute blur. I packed. I cleaned. I threw away so much junk. It's incredible just how much junk you can collect in 5 years.*


The thing about living and teaching here is that you only get what you put into it. You've gotta put down some roots. So I did my best, and learned Japanese, and got involved. The kids at school started to become more than nameless faces in seats. They became the kid that snorted milk through his nose two years ago. Or the girl that fell in the sports day relay and cried her eyes out. Or the boy that used to practice magic and put on performances, even though now hes a cool 3rd year middle schooler who pretends it never happened. The current 5th grade elementary school kids have only ever had English classes with me.


Then of course there are my embattled allies in the trenches, the other ALTs. Life in Japan is a constant barrage of not-understanding, and missing the point, and not quite doing it right. They were there with me through all of those ups and downs, sharing in the experience. A little oasis of normalcy that kept me sane. I think that's why we all became extremely good friends extremely fast. It has been very hard to see people go through the years, and very hard to leave.


I don't regret putting down roots in the slightest, but it does hurt a little bit pulling them back out. Japan and the people I have met here have all been fantastic. Goodbye, at least for now.


Counter Culture Shock

At the end of your contract, the JET programme pays for a flight home if you want it. Even though I'm spending the next 10 months biking from Japan to the UK, I thought I'd take advantage of the free ride and hop over real quick to make sure everything's still good back here in Britain. It was brilliant seeing friends and family, a last glimpse of the light at the end of the tunnel to remind me what I'm riding back to. I even managed to squeeze in a job interview with Teach First, who have offered me a position starting next July. Everything is still good.


The UK is a little nuts though. Here in Japan, I am the weirdest thing people will see all day. Then I arrived in London, and no one gave me a second look. I quickly realised it was because there are new levels of weird here. In amongst multicultural smush and busy-ness there, I didn't even blip on peoples radar.


I was sat outside Stratford station, eating a sandwich before taking a numeracy test for Teach First. Out comes this man, in a white shirt and suit trousers, carrying a slightly large bag, but nothing immediately out of the usual. He was looking a little ruffled and agitated, mumbling a little bit about something, but I though it was just about how hot the weather was. He throws the bag down, opens up the zip and pulls out an actual live rat. He then proceeds to slam it against the chair next to me. I obviously start running instantly, almost losing my sandwich in the process. I look back to see the aftermath, but no one else has moved. Everyone had just pretended it never happened and gotten on with their day. Mans got a rat in his bag. Not my problem. Mental.


I also wasn't ready for everybody not compliment me all the time. A friend pointed out this weird ego stroking that people do in Japan, and I can't stop seeing it. Oh wow your Japanese is so good! Wow, you are so good at soccer! Wow, you've been here 5 years? Wow, that's great. Oh you're cycling home? Really? Wow. You're amazing. Nothing can just be alright. It's like the only way to get through social interactions is to gush over how brilliant we all are




Then I got back to the UK. When the bike ride comes up,  people either respond with "Ah yeh, that's cool. I have a mate who did that. You doing it for charity?" or "That's insane. You are insane"**

Either way, there's no dressing up how they feel about it. You'd think it would be a bad thing, but it was quite refreshing being spoken to honestly without the empty flattery.

Rounded off the UK trip with a bit of football in the park with the boys. Also one of them was getting married, so we did that too. Then I jumped on a plane back out to Japan to start the bike ride.

Day 1: Into the Wild Blue Yonder

Well, it's day 6, so I kind of missed the boat on that. I considered just counting this ride from Joetsu down to Osaka as the pre-game warmup, but it's far more poetic that I start from where I've been living. Day 6 it is.

I've had a bunch of firsts. First night unable to camp anywhere, so I had to beg a kind old man to let me camp on the grass by the parking lot. First ride with another random cyclist who bought me lunch. First puncture on my new supposedly puncture-proof tires, and first time using a patch kit to fix it up (then again because I had done it all wrong the first time). I got a lift from a friend to dodge the Typhoon weather, breaking any "cycle-all-the-way" pretentions I might have been holding. I think that's good though, as now in the future I will have no trouble swallowing my pride and jumping on public transport if I have to.


I also had my first really sticky situation. I had been climbing up this hill from Tsuruga to Lake Biwa. Climbs are hard with all the luggage, and this one goes on steadily for about 10km, so I was at breaking point. As was my bike apparently. Something went snap, and suddenly my back gears weren't moving. The plastic protector between the wheel and the gears had splintered somehow, and it was jamming everything up. I dragged my bike over to the side of the road and took off the back wheel to look at the damage. The plastic protector needed to go, but I didn't have the right tools to get the gear off. In desperation I spent the next hour slowly breaking off pieces of plastic so that I could remove the thing using the only thing in my bags I could find able to break through: a pair of toe nail clips.

At this point the sun has gone down, and I am exhausted. Eventually made it to Lake Biwa, and found a free beach with running water to set up camp. Woke up this morning and took my first bath in a lake. Everything is gonna be fine.

-

*In the end I threw away a car too. I was planning on selling her on to some unsuspecting newbie, but it felt too cruel. Even if I gave her away for free, the new owner would be financially crippled with keeping her running. The paint was starting to peel down to the metal, and in winter the engine sounds like there's someone drilling in there. After my battle with a small wall, the back door didn't close all the way, and had to be duck-tapped at the top to stop rain from coming in. Teachers at school had started to make fun of me. Bruised and bloodied, covered in the scars of my poor spatial awareness and lack of concentration, she went into retirement. RIP

**The UK has also become extremely ethical all of a sudden. Most people asked me if I was doing the ride for charity, and if not why not. In all honesty though the ride was never about raising awareness for something or other. It's for me. I'd feel bad asking people for money. Really all I'm doing is gap-yearing all over Asia and Europe. I just happen to be doing it on a bike. I may end up setting up a justgiving page one day, but until then donate money to whoever you like and think of me as you do it.

To Kamikochi and Back: The Finale

The last two days were an absolute sprint out of the mountains and down the coast. I ended up pushing it a little too hard and didn't have the energy to write in the evenings, so I'm writing this post factum.

19/05/04 - Day 7

The mountains I came from

Came out after 48 hours off the bike, ready to get some mileage under my belt. On the way to Kamikochi, I had  been steadily rising for 5 days, barring a few dives into the cities tucked away in the valleys. That meant I had a 67km downhill saunter from 1400m to sea level. The weather was hot, not a cloud in the sky, so I loaded up on sun cream and set out on the road back home.

With the momentum of all my junk balanced on the back, I really flew down. Got to my intended campsite by about 1pm without doing anything you would call cycling. I just sat there, clutching at the breaks occasionally, watching the world go by. My wrists were more sore than my legs.

It would have been a shame to waste such lovely weather, and this seemed a good chance to see how far I could go in a day. I decided to get back on my bike, and powered on another 63km to Kurobe. Arrived as night fell, my first ever sunset to sundown. 130km in a day. Took a quick onsen bath, set up camp in the dark with my head-torch, and promptly passed out.

19/05/05 - Day 8

The Beach

Got up the next day with a measly 46km ride to Itoigawa on the coastal road. Now in my mind, Coastal road means flat easy riding next to the sea. The coastal road between Kurobe and Itoigawa was not like that. In fact, it's basically steep cliffs dropping into the sea. Apparently travelers of old used to camp in caves at the bottom of the cliffs, and would be trapped in them for weeks if the weather turned nasty and the waves rose.

The Cliffs

I was forced to climb back up into these terrifying half-tunnels they have here to protect the roads from snow and falling rocks. Made it to Itoigawa for lunch, back on my home turf in the prefecture of Niigata. I don't think I have a strong Japanese accent, but apparently I do. I had been having trouble getting myself understood for large chunks of the trip, especially in Nagano. I don't know if it was psychological or what, but as soon as I crossed the border line suddenly I was fluent again and everyone could understand what I was saying.

First sign of home.

The last bit of the route I've ridden loads of times before, a lovely bike path along an actual coastal road. Again, I was planning on camping in Itoigawa, but again I decided to push on. The promise of sleeping in my own bed with an actual mattress called me home too strong.

I pulled into town exhausted, quite possibly heat stroked, but victorious, 2 days before schedule. I've spent the last few days recovering, as Sunday I could hardly walk. Turns out I can do 220 km in two days, but I definitely shouldn't.

Post Game Reflections

I love doing this, and will be going full steam ahead with the China plan. When you cycle a long distance, you get into a somewhat zen-like state where you aren't focused on your thoughts. They just kinda float about, sorting out your problems in the background. There are no distractions, just me and the bike and the place I'm going. I hope I can keep up this positive mind set when I'm weeks or months into the long haul. 106 days and counting till I hop on the ferry.

I was mainly worried about being alone for over a week, but actually it's quite refreshing. It has however turned me into one of those weird people who start awkward conversations with you if you sit down next to them for too long. Some of the conversations were less awkward. I met a 60 year old guy walking home from Joetsu to Tokyo, a Mountaineer from Osaka who had been hiking up all the highest peaks in the Japanese Alps, and a couple from Korea who had quit teaching to cycle round Japan for 3 months. I am not alone in being crazy.

I also learned a lot about what is actually important on a long distance ride, and have come out with a whole new packing list. Hopefully I wont have to spend the first week in China buying things I need (or replacing stuff I stupidly forgot at home like my ground sheet.)

Best Stuff

3) Rain gear (jacket and trousers) from a workman's store. Just as good as the North Face #swankycampgear equivalent, at 1/10th of the price.

2) A bag of plastic bin liners, on my Mum's advice, that kept my camp gear dry in the rain and my dirty clothes separate from the clean ones.

1) My bike, I love her.

Worst Stuff

3) Ski Jacket. It's huge, and it never got cold enough to really need it. Walked around with it on in Kamikochi, but ended up carrying it when the sun came out.

2) Those damn shoes I started with. Gave me blisters, and almost lost my toes to frostbite. Much happier with my waterproof lavender abominations.

1) Loving a bike is much like being in love with a person. When you love the bike, everything that goes right re-affirms your affection. Everything that goes wrong... well that's not the bike's fault, it's just a difficult part it has. That said, I have a deep, burning hate for the front derailleur, where you have to be going at Mach 5 to get into the lowest gear. Heading to the bike shop right after this to get it adjusted.

Back in one piece.