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Published: June 11th 2008
Door to Door
Departure day. Literally from my front door.In the beginning there was nothing.
Then God said “let there be light”. And there was.
He had great things in store for the world and soon he even began work on Man, a creature sculpted in the image of himself.
But man of course was simply just a tool for the hand of God, and soon he became weary of his new creation - so he set to work on what would become the icing on a rather dull cake, and would in the end be Gods finest creation.
Yes, the bi-cy-cle.
What man has not feared and conquered the mounting of one these, god finest creations. And it was by these sturdy steel beasts, that not only were the Mongol hordes kept at bay from Belgium, but that the ultimate, and most epic journeys of my life so far, was undertaken.
Myself and my university com padre and fellow resident of Japan, Denis would set the task of conquering a Trans Kyushu-Shikoku expedition, spanning from Ehime prefecture in the North of Shikoku, down through the volcanic southern island of Kyushu, to Kagoshima Prefecture in the far south.
A story not
unlike those told around the campfires of ancient Greece, the journey would span over hills, seas, volcanoes and of course the ever present mountains of Japan, and would require bullet trains, ferries, hikes and of course the 2 wheeled might of the holy wheeled horse.
We would meet a few problems along the way, and encounter friends too, and we would tour almost every kind of terrain Japan has to offer. From the clustered islands of the inland sea, to the highland greenery of Mt. Aso and around, back down to the almost tropical beaches of Miyasaki and arriving eventually to the ultra-modern, cherry blossomed shores of Fukuoka city.
In all we would cover over 600km in one week and would consume more snickers bar and onigiris than a Linford Christie at Chritams. We would experience, sun, rain and sleet and snow, and dip in many a volcanic onsen along the way to cure what ailed us. The journey was accomplished through no mean feat by Denis’s planning and team talks and would serve to further the greater cause of seeing and understanding Japan.
It is for the above mention reason that I have decide to title
Earth or Mars?
Volcanic rock, Aso san. this epic blog,
“Cycling in Kyushu: Ehime to Kagoshima, the scenic route.”
Yes………….
Not that original but I decided that there was little information for cyclist wanting to take this route and although there was some excellent information available, I would like to help others who may be planning a similar tour, or simply want to know about what is like cycling in Japan. In a word, fantastic.
In fact we finished our trip in Fukuoka, but we traveled there by train and so I will not focus so much on that part of the trip and instead on the journey through the incredibly rewarding South Eastern parts of Kyushu and the Western prefecture of Ehime in Shikoku Prefecture.
Mostly you can look at the pics as I will waffle until blue in the face. I wrote down some of the things you might need at the beginning and then went off on a tangent, but the general route is in the titles by day and I found this to be an incredibly rewarding trip for seeing different aspects of Japan. So get a map and get on your bike!
Udo Shrine
Chance encounter with one of the best temples I have ever been to, Miyasaki ken However, first of all let me explain that aside from the 2 minute bicycle ride to work and occaisional sightseeing to other islands on my “Mama cherry” (kind of standardized reliable, but ungeared old ladies bike available in Japan and across Asia) I was a complete novice to tour cycling.
Luckily my friend Denis knew a thing or 2 and had the foresight to get some preparations and planning done in advance.
The point being though that obviously anyone can ride a bike and anyone can do tour biking, and depending on your time limit and fitness (and your bike) you can easily travel up to and over a 100km a day, and so really you can see the world in a way not offered by any other form of transport.
It is essentially a fantastic combination of sightseeing on a grand scale, with exercise and a fantastic sense of accomplishment thrown in (plug) as mention in his article on cycling in Japan, in other but similar words I ripped off!!
http://www.weekenderjapan.com/v39n09/sports.html
In the space of a week we manged to span a large and particularly beautiful area of southern japan, carved some sculpted butt cheeks and even
Japanese Riviera
Cherry blossoms, noodle stalls and the backdrop of the brightlights of fukuoka - wow. had a laugh along the way. It is hard to describe but, once tried, you will not only find yourself looking forward to leaping out of bed at 7:00am (sometimes although I am known to not be a morning person), and plowing through another tough day of cycling to collapse into an onsen only when the dark stops you cycling, but you will find that you look forward to reaching the next long climb up a mountain for the reward of a beautiful view and fast, silent, freewheeling tour down the other side. In fact by the end of it you will feel like a fraud every time you walk up that mountain and don’t take it by bicycle, and you will start to feel a slight sense of pity for those sitting in the tour bus.
Overall, the sense of physical and emotional achievement in seeing these sights by your own body power, will soon have you convinced that everything else is an incomparable second best.
Does the tour bus rider really experience anything but the surface of the place, and even the tourist on foot must take the bus or train to get there. By bicycle you
are given both the time freedom and often more importantly, the challenge of where to see and what to see next.
Anyway I am not trying to sell cycling to you, or wait maybe I am….
Anyway, consider the above statement biased, but if you really want to see a country and have the time to do it consider that in one week you can span southern Kyushu and I have a friend who has spanned almost the whole of Hokkaido in 2.
Preparation • Assuming you have decent bicycle, then the essential thing in a Japanese touring trip is a copy of the Touring Mapple; a detailed map, book intended for motorbike tourers but completely applicable for cyclists. You can get one in most book shops in the travel section at about 1500yen. Essential. It has detailed maps of Japan, purple marked routes for more scenic routes and marks campsites, onsen (very important) and combinis to stock up power foods. There are four or five copies covering all of Japan.
• Specific to Kyushu, but pretty much anywhere in Japan, the other most important thing that we brought was full body water proofs.
• Also,
a sets of pannier bags to carry everything else.
• Tent and sleeping bags etc. if you intend to take advantage of Japans many but expensive campsites (sometimes 1000yen!).
• Apart from that I will stick to the routes as other websites can give a much better idea of what to bring as I am still a novice, and in fact I probably packed way to much stuff and didn’t use most of it.
Day 1: Ehime Ken, Ochi gun (Islands of the Inland Sea) - Matsuyama City ;
104km 10hrs av Speed 18.5kmph (Friday) The build up to leaving my island was preceeded by a week of enkai, work drinking parties. In fact 3 in a row, Monday through to Wednesday. Not the best training for one of the most grueling challenges I was to undertake in my life, but in Japan, the end of winter indicates both the end of the cold and the end of the fiscal year, and thus time to party.
Waking early on Friday morning, I couldn't help but feel slightly unprepared, both physically and mentally for the trip, however, the first leg of the journey
Soaking in the snow
Road to Aso, Kumamoto Ken would take us over the famous Seto Naikai, Shimanami Kaidou (Shimanami Expressway), a route which I had taken before, which links the mainland of the main Japanese island of Honshu, from Onomichi City, to the mainland of Shikoku, Imabari City.
Thus we set off as the sun was still casting that beautiful morning glow in the Inland sea that makes every thing seem slightly golden, and gave me optimism for would be the “breaking in” of both my cycling debut and until that day, unspolit butt cheeks.
However, those of you who know me, know that I am prone to an affliction that has caused me more hours of suffering than I can remember and that I have clearly not managed to shake even to this day.
After boarding he ferry to take the short trip from my island in Ehime to the boarder of Hiroshima, Innoshima island, we had had only traveled about 1 km when I suddenly noticed I had already jettisoned some cargo, in the form of my brand new camera.
Panic.
Not so much because it was an expensive camera, but more because it was the first day of the trip and
I was not looking forward to making up the time on the bike or the prospect of no camera for my epic journey of a life time.
Japan.
An amazing, sometimes intoxicating country, often made almost Utopian by its lack petty crime, especially in the countryside. I must admit it was not the first time that I had lost something in Japan, and in fact not the first time I had lost a camera and got it back. And as I walked into the police station where I practice kendo weekly and greeted everyone with a smile and a ‘konnichiwa’ as I did every Monday and Friday, I just kind of knew, almost arrogantly that they would have my camera.
There is was. A lost, 150 pound camera, dropped somewhere between, my house and the next bridge to Ikuchi Island, in fact technically spanning 2 prefectures, found, and returned with a message to wave the the finders 5% fee, that is customary in Japan, within an hour. Remarkable.
That may have been my last chance and I wonder if the next time something goes a stray, if I will see it again.
Best not to think about it. God
Crossing the Sea
5 brides that coneccted us to mainland Shikoku and crossed the Seto inland Sea. made you without certain braincells so he finds it in his time to help you find your things when you loose them form time to time.
I imagine life will not be quite so kind to me when I arrive back to London.
Back on the road and we were off. The route along the Shimanami Kaidou (SK) is fairly flat and the island comprise only small mountains which the routes cuts around making it relatively simple. However, as we wound are way through progressively bigger and bigger islands, the bane of my life in cycling, wind, began to increase in strength.
We passed few people as we flew through small orange orchards and past small sleepy docks, and headed towards the mainland.
By the time we reached Imabari after the last mammoth 5km bridge over Umajima (horse island) the wind was slowing us down and we we tired. I had only slept a few hours and was feeling almost ready for bed, and was not looking forward to the prospect of another 70km.
However, this was the breaking in period I knew that it would be the hardest.
Day 2: Matsuyama to Beppu Black and brown landscapes
Approaching Aso, Kumamoto Ken (Via Uchiko): 106km (ferry from Yawatahama to Beppu City)
The following morning I awoke to the rather painful reality that I had not yet been broken in and my whole body ached as much if not more than the day before.
I would have been more than happy to have slept for another day or 2 but Denis’ Nazi esq schedule allowed for little time for R&R.
This was run home by the fact that the Fuhrer was already up and cooking eggs in a kettle, a Nazi tradition no doubt.
There was no time to cry over my sore joints and inflamed crotch, however, as we had the prospect of another long if not longer day, ahead of us.
We set off after having deposited the key under the door of the fantastic Youth Hostel where we had been staying, and set off past Matsuyama castle in the beautiful early morning orange glow that seemed just right for the city of oranges.
Decisions decisions. When it comes to living in Japan, one of the hardest things I have had to deal with aside form the obvious lack of language, self catering, culture shock etc,
Cranes
Imabari
is the fact that I am having to make big decision on my own all the time. The is of course life, but it just so happens that it is one of my more retarded areas of thought. I am terrible at making decision and thrown into the mix with this is the fact Denis is actually almost worse.
Thus we must have spent a good half a day or so on this journey standing at convenience stores looking at he map saying,
“But if we go that way it might be better!? Quick Nick, go and ask that lorry driver which way is more kirei (beautiful)!”.
This is of course not the best question to inquire of a Japanese person anyway, as best and better are a bit more of a cloudy area in Japanese culture. One thing that I did learn from asking Japanese people directions and especially advice on where to go is, to not.
Well directions maybe, but even there they seem more confused than me, but when it comes to advice, the Japanese mind set often conflicts with my own and this at certain times when you are on a bicycle and clearly asking
Highland Plain and mountains
Nearing 1000m up,the road to Aso, Kumamoto Ken ‘which way is more enjoyable for a cycling gent’ you will often somehow end up being set along a smogy highway as perhaps the advice giver thought that of course you ‘wanted to get their quickly and efficiently’. Sorry if I am stereotyping a little their but it did seem as though most time we asked and took advice it often ended us up on the not quite so good a route. This of course is simply a matter of cultural opinion, and it is only my opinion that the more visually stunning and interesting route would be more ideal for a leisure pursuing cycle.
Anyway, indecisiveness was having us up in arms as to whether to risk another day day on the sea front for fear of winds, or head inland up mountains to an old town called Uchiko, famed for its old preserved ware houses and buildings.
We asked a group of Japanese bikers who seemed to be 100% positive that the seafront option was the best way to get south.
Now we debated it a little longer, and we eventually decided we would head in land as it happens, and I am not saying that
Crossing the Sea 2
The largest of the bridges connecting the islands in my area to the mainland.
the sea would not have been amazing but we went on our instincts and it was great, and almost every other time we took advice from the Japanese we ended up on a motorway or skipping the area of scenic beauty. Depends on how you look at it I guess....
We hit our first mountain of the journey, not big and in fact probably one of the smallest of the journey’s but it was a taster of things to come. The bikes weighed about as much as we did with all their gear on them and peddling that up a mountain, even with such a great bike, is tough.
However, when you hit those mountain hills, you go into kind of meditative state. You are digging in, your body temperature goes up and you speed goes down. The noise from the wind disappears, and if you can lift you head up from the strain, you are suddenly slowly gliding through the country side, up to where the traffic thins out, the air clears up and nature, as opposed to man, is dominant.
Like I say it is almost meditation with only the sounds of birds and the quiet
Seeing orange
Matsuyama City clicking of the bike chain.
Halfway up this first and smallest mountain, we came to the first and worst tunnel of the whole trip.
Denis had already warned me about tunnels and as I came close to this black, noisy, smelly hole in the side of the mountain, I began to see it in a different light than I had before.
A good way to get everyone out of their cars and reduce pollution, would be to just have people take a little bit of time of using a bike around roads. You suddenly realize how deafeningly noisy, and fast cars are and how much they stink. To the driver behind the wheel, only the sound of the quiet engine and AC whirring can be heard. As I came closer to this tunnel it seemed as if it were sucking me in, rust and grime dripping from grates above and green mossy slime that had grown around it to make it almost an organic life-form, that was roaring a deafening noise that one only hears in tunnels and train stations.
There was a small path on the side of the tunnel and for a few moments no cars, and
so Denis was first in and began to disappear in to the blackness. Behind me I could hear something large and lorry like coming so I rushed to get into gear and get on the road.
As I began to enter this tunnel, the lorry past me as though it was a runaway train in a station. The force of the pressure both from the truck and being in the tunnel, basically knocked me off my bike and it was only because of the wall being so close that I didn’t just topple over.
Denis too, seemed to have be unbalance d in some way and so we made the very wise decision to walk the tunnel.
So for about 1km we walked quickly down this dully light hole. The air was thick and choking and with each vehicle that past your body would involuntarily tense up ready to be blasted into the wall. It sucked.
I don’t like tunnels.
Not only was it the first and longest , it was in fact the worst, and we didn’t travel through any nearly as bad as that for the rest of the week, and in fact, most tunnels in Japan
provided us with a very large sidepath and a very comfortable ride.
We climbed and we climbed and eventually seemed to level out to a road that followed a vally past small farms and shops dotted down-hill. This is the best thing about mountains, if you go up, you’ve got to come down. It is just that simple.
We freewheeled through the valley past trains, and houses, and past hundreds of fields of bright yellow spring flowers.
There were few people about but still it felt like we hadn’t quite broken out into deep countryside. But perhaps Shikoku is not so famous for its barrenness as for its sleepy mountain and seaside towns.
It was all very pleasant anyway and we eventually arrived at Uchiko.
Here the valley began to split out to where the river started to spread out and you could see a few people lining the banks of it enjoying the first of the sun and the blooming cherry blossom that had somehow come earlier up here.
Uchiko itself was lined with many old and unique buildings, some of which had been preserved and turned into craft shops. There were a few tourist wandering around as
Taking time
Ehime ken
Truckers we slowly peddled through the quiet streets, and I must say I hadn’t seen buildings quite like these before so was very happy up to be trundling though these old streets after our mission up the hill.
We didn’t spend long there, however, and after circling the small town center a few times, we set off to come out of the mountains via the valley to rejoin the sea.
The spread river grew as we cycled past the first open fields that I had seen in Japan. Hoards of yellow flowers were being grown under a rather picturesque red steel bridge, to where families had brought picnics to and were wandering through the tall yellow rows.
It was very artificial, and you could be a little bit confused as to why they don’t enjoy wandering a natural field with the same flowers that seemed to grow everywhere, but you had to feel charmed at the desire to simply come and spend time with flowers.
As we traveled down, reaching sea level, the winds began to return as we were heading toward the sea. Once again my bike began to fell like a lead weight, and the exhaustion began
to set in. However, as would come to be the case everyday, we still had the longer half of the journey towards that, and even when we arrived, a ferry to cross the the Uwakai sea that runs between the islands of Shikoku and Kyushu.
We stopped in a town, and managed to find the equivalent of a greasy spoon in Japan, selling western style spaghetti and what the Japanese call curry, type dishes.
The clock was ticking, but the spaghetti feast seemed to rejuvenate us and as we hit the coast leading on to Yawatahama, our ferry way point, I felt like the weight had been lifted off my back and we sped along and a constant speedy pace for the next 2-3 hours.
It really is amazing the speed which you can go on these bikes when the roads are reasonably flat and you have the wind out of your face. It is a great feeling, and it was was great to be making some real progress. As we traversed small fishing towns that were not unlike my island, but somehow even more sleepy, and green, the sun began to glow on the the best leg
Ooh!
View from Mt takadake, Mt Aso. of the Shikoku journey.
As we rolled into Yawatahama, the early evening glow was illuminating the terraced mountains around the port, dotted with orange trees.
We set off on the ferry having completed the first, and not necessarily easiest part of our journey.
Arriving in Beppu, we rode the mile or so to the minshuku, and kind of hotel, and after soaking in another onsen, we slurped down some ramen and hit the hay very hard.
Beppu is a strange town. A kind of Blackpool in Japan, and has the feel of having no-one living in it. Everyone is passing through, coming form Korea to sample onsens, and possibly the plethora of ladies lurking down every other corner.
Day 3: Beppu to Yufuin - cycling in the rain (25km) Just as predicted the rain was pouring when we awoke. Surely the worst enemy of the cyclist. Worse even than snow or wind, or snowy wind. I woke up with one word circling around my head, “bollocks”.
Yet we were not going to be put off by a soaking and we had a long way to go yet, so I donned my full piece water
DIY wine bar
Fukuoka City Fukuoka Ken proof, a purchase that has without doubt been my most profitable in Japan, and set off.
Essentially, once having put this suit on, which made me look like a Health and Safety inspector, apart from my feet and hands, I did not get wet. However, it is not so much the wetness, but the cold that can drag a man down.
As we rounded the corner from the minshuku it became apparent that we would be climbing mountains and little else that day, and in fact for much of the rest of the journey we were either ascending or descending mountains, where-ever we were.
We climbed and climbed until the seat was pouring, and mixing in with rain to make a generally cold damp towel effect around the whole body. But it was the hands and feet. My god, sweet merciful god, it was cold. As we began to leave the city behind and pass slowly but surely through greener and greener passes, layers of clothing had to be sheaded to keep you cool, but as soon as you stopped ou were sudenly on a mountain in the rain in a basically a T-shirt.
After an hour of solid uphill/mountain
cycling, at times at gradients of what felt way of 25degrees, we had made very little progress and the mountain still seemed to go on for miles ahead.
Finally I reached a rope way, Denis having long since got ahead of me was there, and we took a break.
We had maybe gone 5km in about 3 hours.
But we weren’t broken yet, but as we climbed higher the mist began to cloud around me and the condensation from my breath seemed to be the only warm thing on that mountain. The frequency of cars had dropped and most of the time all you heard was the sound of your panting and the trickle of the rain, broken only by me huffing and puffing to get the water dripping off my face.
Like I say, we weren’t beaten yet, but certainly the prospect of an enforced suspension of the cycling tour, until this bloody well cleared up, was becoing a possibility. In spring in Japan, it seems to be clear and fine for 3days, cloudy for one, and then rainy for one and then the cycle starts again, and so I was prepared for at least one day of rain,
so it would not be a problem to stop, however, it did seem like a royal cop out.
Cop-out or not, all resolve to continue tour that day were hastily thrown out the window when we rounded the next corner.
The mist was settled all around me in a thick and icy sheet and cropping out in the distance was the outline of what looked like beautiful karst rock scenery and highland grassy fields, stretching up the jagged mountain. The cold misery of the rain, coupled with the clearly beautiful scenery that we were missing were beginning to add to hard grind of ascending the mountian. I think we were both beginning to get a little whipped by the whole situation, but as we rounded the corner, we were given the final insult.
The roadway suddenly widened out to reveal a long and winding path down brown, scorched looking grassy mountain-sides. It again was the first time I had seen such a scene in possibly in even in Britain. The road stretched down the mountain and one could just make out a town clouded in the distance.
Having hit a down hill, the sudden lack of warm clothes, that
had had to be removed and the biting, freezing, intense cold hit in one almighty blast.
“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD JEEEEEEEEESUS!! HELL ON EARTH! OOOOOOOOH, MYYYYYGOOOOOOOOOODDDDD IIIIIIIIIIIIT’S COOOOOOOOOOLD!!!!!!!!!!! OH SHIIIIIIIIITT!!!!” I yelled as I flew down the mountain road. The road was wet, the mountain was cold, and the cars raced by in a rainy roar. The wind was blasting straight through my clothes and skin, and freezing my bones from the inside out. Cars driving by looked on in bewilderment as this screaming foreigner, red faced, soaked and finally going mad in a rage of obscenities, trundled by in the pouring rain.
Denis had stopped on the edge the road.
“That was horrible”
“OWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOW! I CANT FEEL MY HANDS!!! OOOOH GOD MAKE THE BAD RAIN MAN STOP!!!” I replied, reservedly.
“I think that broke me” proclaimed Denis.
I was way past broken and quite frankly I was happy to start banging on random doors, and demand that they let me microwave my frozen hands and collapse at the bottom of their shower screaming like a small child!!
The word broke, was a kind way of describing a thorough beating.
Mother nature had won this round and we rolled on to seek
Where you all going?
Fleeing the gas, Mt Aso, Kumamoto ken. refuge in a Lawson convenience store. The sound and heat of the conbini was like Moses emerging from the desert to an oasis, and we burst through the doors, still cursing and ‘AAAAHHHH’ ing.
True convenience. Not only can you stock up on food and drinks and mobile phone re-chargers, but the lady I the store even managed to find us another minshuku to bed down, in and after a quick call we arrived just outside the town of Yufuin to escape the cold.
We were greeted rather coldly, considering had clearly just been through an ordeal, and were already cold enough without the Japanese inn keepers, bitter reception.
However, the onsen that awaited us, made up for his rather unfriendly attitude. Yufuin, being an onsen town, meant that even the cheaper places to stay had onsens and that was possibly one of the best onsens I have ever taken. The combo of being ice cold and a baking hot onsen, is one of the best things about Japan. And we spent a good hour or so, soaking it up.
I was still early, and in fact it turned into being another memorable part of the trip, and a
chance to stay in some decent accommodation and get some rest in.
We attempted a walk around town, but in the end decided to eat in a take it easy. It was a pretty good place but I forget the name.
Day 4 Yufuin to Aso Chou (town) 75km Best Day???? Awaking to a beautifully clear morning it became clear why this area was famed for its natural beauty. The early morning mist was allowing just enough light through to illuminate the town of Yufuin and its surrounding mountains.
It looked beautiful and the distance funnels of steam, rising up from the ground gave the crisp morning a sharp edge, that seemed to indicate that this would be a mighty day for cycling!!
I dived into the onsen out side to get the blood flowing before the departure and lay back and closed my eyes.
However, as the steam rose up around me from the not so hot morning bath water, I suddenly began to feel the refreshing pitting of rain on my forehead. Oh, balls….
Well, the weather man is often not only wrong but inconsiderate to the mountain dwelling folk of the world, and thus
Perfect timing
Shrine, fukuoka the report bares little relation the weather up there. Thus we set off in the rain once again, although perhaps a little more prepared and with the belief in our minds that this was the back end of the rain.
However, after about an hour the rain had not stopped, and as we rolled up more and more mountains, now resembling something out of Twin Peaks, but with even less people, we began to receive looks of pity and I even got a “Taihen ne!” from an old lady, which roughly translates as ‘I wouldn't like to be you right now’.
We were definitely on the back end of the rain, but as we were now climbing higher and higher toward the 500-1000m mark the rain began to turn to snow.
In fact, the cold meant that it was best to be peddling for fear of your hands freezing up and your toes blackening, but we new that we were nearing some serious scenage and so persevered on.
All in all the weather was incredibly dramatic and the sky seemed to changed every few minutes from blue sky to dark cloud, ever moving creating beams of sunlight cutting
Tunnels
Ehime ken
through the clouds above.
Passing through more and more wet mountain road we soon took shelter in a tourist trap coffee shop that for all is Olympic size, only seemed to serve black or white coffee, but it was a good place to huddle around the gas stove for a while and recover the feeling in my toes.
When we reemerged the sun had finally won and the landscape that we had been cycling through was reveled.
We were at the top of a cliff mount and before us lay miles upon on miles of breathtaking, green and brown fields surrounded by mountains being illuminated by beams the size of football pitches as far as the eye could see.
After living in the somewhat arid and patched landscape that is most of south and central Japan, it was like suddenly being in another world. Not unlike Wales or possibly scandineavia (are they similar)?, but surrounded by dramatic mountains on all side, it was truly breathtaking, and the slow revealing nature that came by riding by bike, made it all the more epic and an unforgettable moment.
This cliff rolled down on to what resembled a cross between the
Unscheduled stop
Reasonable Minshuku, 3250yen, with onsen. Just ask in Conbinis for information!
Yufuin, Oita Ken plains of North America and the mountains of Scotland, and dotted around were again chimneys of steam that were pointing the way to some truly epic onsens.
As we headed along, we reached some of the first straight flat road we had seen for days, and the only other cars for minutes at a time were Japanese army trucks and jeeps that would be a constant presence through-out the highland area that we would pass through that day.
The highland plain was capped on all sides by mountains topped with snow. This was the Yamanami Highway.
Probably the best onsen I have taken, aside from my first ever, was taken along this open plain of golden hay an mountains.
The snow was coming down and the out door bath floated with white minerals and breathed a strong smell of sulfur into the surrounding mountain air.
I even managed to get a photos in the onsen, which is of course a big no no but it was just too amazing a moment to miss.
The mountain behind the onsen had a floating cover of mist and every so often the wind would blow it on, and you
would have a moment of clarity reveling the mountain side, before the next cloud would envelope it.
I’ll never forget that onsen or that plain, and the beauty of cycling is that you remember it only how is was in that brief period of time, for a short golden moment, when the weather and time allowed it to be so beautiful.
The other amazing thing about cycling is that just as you think that it cant get any better, it does. Over and over again.
But first another mountain leading from this high plain would have to be conquered, but now it was like I was filled with a new energy and this was added to by the canned tuna sandwiches we munched on for lunch a moment earlier. Cheap and cheerful, and outdoors. The best way when cycling I believe.
As we rolled over more and more fields and up and down mountains, the scenery began to get darker and darker, and the ladnscapes looked more and more scorched and burnt.
It was eery and beautiful, and at the same time impossible to explain but it resmbled the scene of a recent erruption, as
Scorched Landscape
Road to Aso, Kumamoto Ken the rolling fields would suddenly drop like canyons, where the walls looked almost wave cut, in the way they had been varved by something hot and liquidy.
The great thing about Japan, is that in the midst of it all, everything can be turned on its head, and here in the middle of no-where, surrounded only by scorched hills sides, and army trucks, someone had decided to live out their dream and build a small cowboy town for miniature dogs.
We stopped for ice cream and spent a hyper active, elated half an hour or so running around this small little Wild West Village, populated only with puppies, miniature dogs and Shetland ponies.
Who could have known such a civilization existed up here in the wilderness, but we decided not to interfere and moved on,
The blackened scenery rolled on and on, until eventually it panned out to what looked like the end of the world. We had arrived.
There are a few of those moments in life which are hard to explain, but you know them when you have them, and here over looking the largest caldera in the world, from the the top looking down,
I new it was one of those moments.
The sun shone and for miles before you, criss-crossing fields that filed the largest crater in the world spread out as far as the eye could see.
This was Aso.
Day 5: Around Mt Aso area. (Hiking it) In the end our room was almost full with about 6 people. An interesting bunch who made me forget that we were in Japan, as it felt more like backpacking in South East Asia. It feels strange traveling around YHs in the country you live in.
In a good way though, it feels like you are somewhere else, out of the country. I think I’ll give it a go when I get back to London. I have plans to buy the Lonely Planet Britain, and set off, starting from the beginning again, in the country I really know very little about, and have visited even less.
The 6 members of our cozy heated dorm included a Malaysian student, who had studied at Sussex (small world, again) a Thai photographer, a recently graduated Japanese student, touring the country for 2 weeks, with a bag big enough for a year,
a old Japanese man who was staying in a YH but had arrived in a brand new looking Porsche Boxter, and me and Denzel.
The lesson I learned from that morning is that if you are on a bike tour, use the bloody bike(!), and after convincing Den to leave the bikes and the rest the butts for a day, I felt like a cheat and cop-out as I sat staring out the tour bus window, and climbed up the mountain.
In the long run is was probably a good move, as it gave the body a day to recover and use some different, and after a day, equally worked, muscles, but we both good see the looking in each others eyes which read ‘could’ve biked this easily’.
You suddenly really realized also, how incredibly restrictive and watered down an experience it is when you only go by bus or car. You are not really in the moment, and all of the nature that you came to experience, is behind a wall of glass and cloaked by a loud and annoying rumble of a diesel engine.
On top of that, chances are that you’ll be stuck on the
bus with a load of Japanese weekend thrill seekers, who are tooled up to the teeth with light weight day bags, brand new walking boots and carbon-titanium tipped walking sticks, for ascending up in a cable cars to wander along concrete walking paths, making the whole adventure side of your trip seem rather ridiculous.
Bus or no bus though, it was hard to not be struck by the incredible scenery as we ascended mountains, or rather volcanoes.
I have never really seen scenery quite like it (which I have said a number of times now). Being the the early half of spring, the grass everywhere was a mud brown colour, which although not sounding appealing, was different to any scenery I had seen in before. This covered for miles in every direction rolling, smooth mountainsides, which suddenly rose up here and there into over 2 or 300m tall extinct volcano cones that seemed almost man-made they were so smooth and equilateraly perfect This was the centre of what was the largest caldera in the world, formed hundred of thousands of years ago. A caldera I worked out after we finally arrived in it, is like a giant crater, and
when I say giant, I mean like the size of central London. The sides of the crater are mountains and form a ring wall about 50 miles across, and some standing way over 1000m. All the volcanic activity hasn’t put people off from settling the town of Aso in the centre of this stone circle, which sits at the basin of a group of still active volcanoes, and which itself stands at 600m above sea level.
The volcanoes are the centre of attraction for most visitors, but I found the ride the previous day over the wall of mountains and the view in the crater, truly one of the best experiences and most breathtaking views.
As the bus climbed higher and higher, we were eventually dropped off near the base of the main volcano. From the drop off point you could already sea a extremely wide crater with smoke bellowing out of it, high into the sky above.
In fact, on arriving at the base to begin the climb up, we were told that the volcano had already been closed due to the rather large amount of poisonous smoke pouring out and being blown across the mountainside.
We had
Road to Aso
Approaching Aso, Kumamoto Ken been warned that this could happen, and were instantly put out after the bus journey. However, there was no way that we weren’t going to get up that mountain and I pressed a steward for if there was an alternative route, which it turned out there was.
As we walked up the beautifully tarmacked path, set down for the hordes of Japanese, Chinese, Korean and Western tourists who wished to simply go to the side of the crater, take a photo and then leave, I noted that we were in fact he only people going up the volcanoes side.
Hordes of tourists were pouring down towards us, slowly but surely, with the mouths covered by hands and handkerchiefs.
A moment to think this move through. Was this going to be one of these incredibly stupid moves, where you end up gassed on the side of the mountain with only yourself to blame and common sense laughing from above saying ‘told you so, you plum’, or was it going to be a funny story to write on travel blog later.
It turned out to be neither and in fact as, you could see in the distance, it looked fairly safe to
travel away up the mountains behind the volcano and the gas cloud seemed to be getting blown out in to more a gas mist in that direction. ‘The fools’ I thought and we set up the mountains on our path.
It wasn’t going to be so easy though, and as the mountain leveled off we saw that there was as van with a spinning flashlight, and a brightly uniformed man coming towards us.
“The ‘Volcano Police’, damn.”
But they weren't going to be sending this party down the mountain. I gave Denis the signal and he hid behind a rock.
As the Volcano Policeman got within distance, I cried out ‘now’ and Denis sprung from the behind the rock and got the man in a full nelson. Moving without thinking, I quickly took out the bottle of chloroform I carry in my utility belt, and in one movement doused a rag and smothered the man , rendering him unconscious.
With no time to waste, I donned the mans volcano uniform, and quickly radioed in so as not to arouse suspicions, hiding the mans body under discarded ice cream wrappers. Denis applied camouflage makeup and assumed the form of a rock
so as to not draw attention.
With that we set up the volcano, taking the route up to nearby Mt Takadake
and via Mt Nakadake. Now truth be told, we didn't actually kidnap and pose as volcano police, and what had really happened was that the volcano police had said that it was okay to go up to Takadake, but that Nakadake was too dangerous. This seemed strange as the Nakadake was on the way to Takadake and was clearly caked in a enormousness smoke cloud, and so I was a tad worried to say the least, but if there anyone you can trust in this world its the volcano police, and so we set off anyway, confident that the VP would come and douse us with wet towels and the like if things got out of control.
This was the first time I had been on a volcano, and particularly an active one and the landscape was truly other worldly.
Beginning with simply black smooth sand spreading out into the crater and up into, red and yellow, brightly stained rocks, it was truly truly amazing to see, and I couldn't wipe the smile off my face. All
Mountainside Onsen
Road to Aso, Kumamoto Ken while as we climbed , and there was some serious climbing and crumbling of ground beneath us after we took Denis's short cut route, the billowing crater behind us got bigger and more spectacular, as well as slowly being able to see for miles around as we ascended up.
It was really really amazing, and made me want to give up the rock and roll life style and became a volcanologist, in the pursuit of different coloured rocks, or at least give that pile of dog crap movie, 'Dante's Peak' and second chance.
As we curled around the main crater, however, the gas cloud came closer and closer, and although it was clearly breaking up as it moved, it was still but a few hundred meters away.
Eventually it sank over us and everything went misty.
At first there was nothing, and then a slight tingle at the back of the throat. This slowly grew until you had to cough and the tickle became unbearable, and so Denis wrapped a scarf around his face I did my best with my gloves. However, we were soon through it and onto the other side.
All around were bright red rocks and even
Red in the Cheeks
This photos sums up the cold on the road.
Road to Aso, Kumamoto Ken purple ones. Yellow, mustard stained ones filled with red curling bushes, jutting of the sharp, but fragile, crumbling cliffs. Eventually were traversed the crater and were on the other side and climbing higher, where the gas clouds were replaced by real clouds and windswept ice patterns dotted the terrain. Here it panned out into prairie like rolling hills that dipped down to the flowing mountains around. Finally at the top we bumped in the first other climber, and man from somewhere up north, who spoke good but painful English, that made him look like he was have a brain seizure every time he delved into his mind to retrieve the words that he had learned back in high school.
Onwards and upwards and finally were were 1600m or so on the peak of Takadake.
It felt good, and quite frankly it was the best hiking I have ever done. This trip was developing slowly into an epic the likes of which, Ben Hhur would have wet his pants to hear of!!!
It had to come to an end, however, as the so called main attraction, a tiny little “Kawaii” (cute) mountain was on the complete other side of the
Army trucks
Road to Aso, Kumamoto Ken mountain and thus it would take about 2 hours to get there.
We came back down a similar but different route and on the way back stopped off a the crater, which had now re-opened again and had hundred of tourists leaning over and having there cheesy pics taken around it. So of course we did too!! Nice, check it out>
The walk to the other mountain that would overlook this other so called 'cute' volcano was straight and long and we tried to hitch but there was no way really.
When we arrived at the base, it was rather more of the hiking I had come to know and it was not really hiking but instead a concreted, and very steep set of stairs that led the way up the mountain, which was hard more in the f act that it was boring so you tried to run up it to get it over with.
At the top, however, the view of both the baby volcano, which was no-where near as incredible, but certainly unique, and more photograped, was excellent, and the view back at the live volcano we had just hiked was even more impressive.
It certainly is
Jagged Coastline
We could see dozens of dolphins swimming off the coast, Miyasaki Ken a difference in opinion.
All in all, some of the most impressive and breathtaking scenery (again) I had ever seen. If anyone comes to Japan, I strongly advise you to go to the Aso area, and preferably by bike.
That evening we hit another onsens and the aches were once again helled straight away, and I had a extremely early and restful night sleep.
The Aso Youth hostel by the way if you are reading up on it is about 3000 a night for a dorm, which is a little expensive, but its worth it and its one of the only places in town too.
Day 6: Aso are to Aoshima (About 110km, but didn't count, far) After setting off on to a glorious morning and cycling 10 or so km until we reached picturesque grassy, fields and cud chewing cows, I realised on producing my camera to snap a cow ( a extremely rare site in Japan), I realized that I had left my battery and charger in the YH. Thus I began the day having to cycle back and forth and extra 20km! Under the pressure of guilt I realised how
Mikan Stops
Ehime
Orange Shop far and fast you can travel on decent bike and I was back in a flash, but semi dreading the following cycle being already exhausted.
The greatest thing about his trip, was the different kind of places and environments we got to see on our way. Japan, being a rather compressed and compact county, you are never far from the countryside in the city and you often find it difficult to believe you are in the countryside when surrounded by shops and houses. In fact the image of the countryside is very different to that of say Britain, where rolling fields and a general lack of people and settlement indicates the rural location, whereas in Japan, one may often find that he is only really in the country side when in the mountains, and that even there you will soon not be shocked to find a cafe, or convenience store nestling at the top. Thus this trip was fantastic in that he highland areas we passed through really were some of the most deserted places that I had seen. This coupled with the bustling compact and often overcrowded cities, small fishing villages, country towns, and various other immeasurable conurbations
meant that you were always passing through somewhere different.
The next route we would take would carry us out of the rather lush and stark scenery of the Aso highland area into the more built up downward decline to Miyasaki Prefecture and onward south, down the coast.
Having already done half a days cycling through my own careless behavior, I was exhausted by the time that reached the outer reaches of Miyasaki Ken and very ready and willing to stop when we did I a small town, the name of which I forget.
In general, I more than anyone am starting to realize that this blog has got way out of control and I have spent more time on it than all the work I did at uni put together.
Thus for lack of memory I will leave day six to the what it was ; a long climb down out of the mountains past a beatiuful gorge, which we could not quite see into, followed by a rather stressful train ride so as to skip a large part of not so special coast, to reach a small seaside resort town called Aoshima. Here, we took our
Broken Mans Road
Icy, cold, barren....oh god, the cold.....beautiful though.
Yufudake, Yufuin, Oita Ken first night of camping and actually got to use the heavy camping equipment we had been lugging around the whole time. This was in itself another interesting Japanese experience as not only was it quite expensive it was the nicest camp site I had ever stayed in, equipped with showers, laundry, beautifully clean toilets and EVEN toilet paper!!! The mind boggles.
That night we slurped down some Ramen noodles, and hit the hay yet again very early to the sounds of the waves outside.
Day 7: Miyasaki Coast (somewhere to somewhere; well over 100km) (Another candidate for best day....) Well, what can you say about this one. You wake up to palm trees and the beautiful Miyasaki coast and setting off early, are rewarded, on reaching the beautiful long, jagged coastline, of the sight of not only beautifully blue sea, but dolphins swimming in the distance.
I think I spent far long taking photos on this journey as well as too long writing this blog but it is and was all in the attempt to share this fantastic trip and try and get across the enormity and amazingly different, as well and rewardingly incomparable
Topiary and Mountain
Road to Aso, Kumamoto Ken feeling that you get from touring the world by your own physical power alone, but I am slowly realizing it is quite impossible and that these things are there to be experienced and recommended as opposed to explained. I think Denis will be very relieved by my epiphany.
In the ensuing day, we toured the stunning Pacific coast of Miyasaki ken, stopping off along the way at unique shrines, built into the smooth rock, saw more dolphins and surfers, passed through fishing villages with no a soul around, beaches that wouldn't look out of place in Paradise and through riced pad died towns which buzzed with the early sound of frogs and crickets.
It just went on and on, and around every corner it got better and better.
We eventually arrived in yet another town that I forget the name of and entered a another great onsen.
We camped in a small forested campsite and were gone before anyone had awoken the next day.
Day 8: Somewhere in Miyasaki Ken to Kagoshima City; many many Kms (Friday) Quite frankly we were satisfied. The day before had been the icing on the rather delicious cake and
Mountain Ranger
Road to Aso, Kumamoto Ken it would be hard to beat, and to be honest in was the home stretch and so the time was sadly nearing to get of the bikes.
A fitting end, however, was in store for the tour, as the final leg of the bike tour would take us onto and around the enormous and striking Sakura Jima. Another live and steaming volcano, although, this time sitting right on the edge and towering over Kagoshima City, a massive and bustling, modern Japanese Goliath. The largest southerly city in Japan.
Tired but very proud as well as sunburned, and possibly a tad stinky, we climbed the final volcano, through mountain passes of red and purple rock, dotted with green volcanic lakes, that was in some ways the symbol of Kyushu.
It was in a way the hardest climb, as it seemed to go forever after the struggle we had been through, but eventually we saw ferry port to Kagoshima in the distance.
We boarded the boat to take the short journey across the sea which would symbolize the end of the tour.
A last photo of the still smoking cone, as we pulled a away and that was,
Scorched Landscape 2
Road to Aso, Kumamoto Ken as they say, it.
Day 8.5: Kagoshima to Fukuoka City Or was it? In fact, we now were scheduled to head to Fukuoka to meet my folks for the beginning of yet another 2 week extravaganza. And so we hurriedly and rather stressfully after all of our pains, managed to bundle up our bikes and put them in the hand of a delivery service to be posted up the country back to Denis's home.
We then boarded the only shinkansen bullet train in Kyushu, which was almost like a piece of art, and worth the price, and sped all the way up the island of Kyushu, covering the twice the distance that we had traveled in week in about 2 hours.
Arriving on a bustling evening on the underground in the Gion district of Fukuoka, was a fitting end to the the tour and as we wandered the streets to find the ryokan and meet my folks, we passed through crowd upon crowd of people gathering around fully blooming white, illuminated cherry blossom trees, spilling out onto the roads, blushed red from beer and sake. There was an electric atmosphere in the
air and the outdoor Yatai, restaurant stands were packed with revellers enjoyign the first signs of Spring.
We arrived at the ryokan, bags in hands, sun burnt smiling faces.
“How was the trip then?”
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Yellow Head
E-san
!!!
Jesus man, you've written a small novel here. I'll have to make my way through this one day by day.