Spring blooms and Central/ Southern Honshuu

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An overnight in Nagano worked well to break up the long passage south, delivering us immediately to spring with tiny smatterings of pink amidst mostly buds. Blossom was in waiting.



Met with a warm 22C afternoon in Takayama, sadly, the cooler snow clothing was packed away seemingly for good. A massive increase in those also visiting this spot indicated how close to the big city tourism we were. Cars appeared to travel faster, souvenir shops were prolific, and local delicacies being sold everywhere.



We chose carefully an afternoon wander that day, taking us to a grand ‘suite of mountains’ view (visible peaks over 3000m) and a slightly muddy ‘literature walk’ near the Hido no Sato village, ending at an Edo period shrine built in the early 1800s. Being dedicated to Tokugawa Ieyasu, the sentiment of maintaining peace in our world was eloquently described on a plaque. There was no war in this 300 year period.



A rainy gaijin and meteorological forecast the next day led to a plan for being up and out earlier, to wander the old town and try to avoid crowds.



Between occasional rain drops we admired the historic centre, tried the dango from a family run window shop, before knowing what they were (a glutinous rice ball stick doused in miso and often seaweed / sweet sauce), and climbed the hill to the ruins of Takayama castle. Assuming the rain may hold off a little more, we only just got to Hido no Sato mid afternoon on the wet side of damp, by donning an umbrella and ducking beneath roof overhangs from buildings of the 1600s. We traveled back in time at that museum.



Repack again done after again a too short a stay, the Kyuhoshagumi preservation area in the old town called us back before our 11.35am train. I unexpectedly chanced on a chocolatier (Quoro) and discovered from one dango seller that it’s a case of “no dango no life”. We had hence lived enough in Takayama to venture on to Lake Biwako.



Staying out of Kyoto in Misasagi as planned, the city noise was still evident with the virtually 24 hour traffic heard through double glazed windows. Fast commuters, crowded trains, and drivers regularly failing to stop at pedestrian crossings; unfortunately with the more noticeable roadside rubbish / illegal dumping as well than my first time here some decades ago, Japan has changed and is changing.



With big baggage stowed for three days, we scaled back our gear to a saddle bag and small backpack, and headed to Katata. Alighting, we saved time with a short taxi ride to then collect our wheels from the Giant store Moriyama. Setting up was the usual lengthy process, until we were ready to go around 11, fuelled by muesli bars and croissants.



Nagahama was our goal and the path kindly began flat and smooth, only bothered by curious kites that were very active along the lakeside. A stop at the blossom festooned shrines by Mt Gosho (Chomei temple) exercised our legs to all 808 steps, before getting back on the saddle to weave our way around the coast. Facing a stiffening headwind, we got to our lunch stop on the water via a Lawson store for hot steamed buns. I then took a dunk in Lake Biwa. It was refreshing!



Diminishing light, new glasses and maybe the Family Mart afternoon tea and latte played havoc with P2s vision, so in grey skies, we carefully rolled into Nagahama. Our hotel, slightly off the track, proved good for what we got - in-room bike storage, near the shops for food, and cheap laundry for our bike gear, minus the breakfast takeaway option that was not available, or an outdoor / rooftop onsen. Route Inn, meet the Dormy Inn and the others that do.



Rain set in, and we cautiously waited a little after check out, setting up our bikes again for the trip to Imazu, and dilly dallying in the old town. How many sweet goods can we consume in one day? It seemed every window seller was hand making something edible and affordable, that begged to be tasted. Crusty yookans and coffee under an umbrella outdoors; on consultation with weather forecast websites, we were deferring our start.



Passing a blossom display briefly at the Nagahama castle, by 12.45pm it was a case of ‘on the road again’. Groups passed us, and also a family who we got to know in the days ahead (a father with first two, then just one, young boys, spinning their legs quickly on small wheeled bikes), as the rain continued to worsen.



A bus shelter looked like our only chance for a hot drink, portable picnic, a distance to destination check, and time to add layers.



Half an hour passed. With a hot vending machine drink shoved into our jacket fronts, we proceeded to ride through persisting rain, up and over the northern reaches of the lake, via short tunnels and opportune chances for hot drinks and loos. Convenience stores were not as convenient in this part of the ride.



The blossoms opened up before us as we did the final 15km to the

Imazu hotel, arriving with our lights flashing at 6pm. Never had a hot shower and the local laundromat been appreciated as this day, blasting our dirty clothes to clean and dry in 50 minutes at the Flower coin laundry. Takeaways and supermarket eats finished a challenging day. We slept deeply.



The sun came up for the final day to Moriyama. In between tail winds, cross winds and head winds on mainly flat roads, we coasted along some sections fast, as did the traffic near the Shirahige jinja. The ‘slow speed’ path came perilously close to the traffic that when we had stopped a large tour bus was on my right shoulder, passing a right turning vehicle. Like the mentality of the helmet-less Japanese, they appear to be skilled enough to fit into any tight space and not cause an accident. Most of the time.



Once again, just before Shirahige jinja, we saw our parent and two child group this time. “You’ve gained one child?” (the smaller one) I mentioned. He nodded and smiled - the father must have had some help from Mum as they circumnavigated the large lake. Now that would be a good “what I did” story to tell at school next week!



Measuring the final 23km in lake side picnic spots for another dunk, and potential cafe stops, I took us a kilometre from the bike path to Cafe Koan. The first outdoor sit down café visit of this type in Japan, we were welcomed and farewelled like fond friends, barista Koan operating his business from a hilltop converted shipping container with meticulous outdoor landscaping. P2 got his cake, and we were rewarded with mostly downhill and tail winds back to Giant cycles.



Equally welcomed like an old friend this time, the mechanic and ourselves mused on the weather changes, before taking a slow taxi back to Katata, and eventually a run by me from Yamashina station to meet the 6pm cut off for check in. Home sweet home number 20 something.



Headed on JR West meant a continued warming climate in our goal to get to Matsue. The hectic Kyoto and Okayama station vibes, and crowded Shinkansen travel, always puts a tinge of tension to the train journeys, that is enhanced by this being THE week.



Cherry blossom tourism was evidently booming and blooming, but on a reduced scale than that pre-2020. The luggage space on the Shinkansen lines did not quite reflect the reported lower tourism numbers, and to contemplate being in the enormity of tourists that could previously attend, we both concurred that wouldn’t be us. We’d crossed over into THE week.



Matsue was pleasingly a step down in gaijin numbers, and opportunity to get out on foot and by bike to explore places beyond the JR train lines.



Sunsets are well known over Lake Shinji, and after a quick hotel onsen by me, we took a wander to the north of the river, catching one of several magnificent over three nights. Quite the calm and communal experience, primarily Japanese tourists flocked to the waterfront in the hour leading up to sundown. A clear orange disc descended over the toori gate island. It marked the time to again seek out our takeout dinner, this time at the Aeon.



Getting started early given the cherry season was our next plan. Matsue castle grounds are freely accessed, although to go through one of the twelve most original castles in Japan is a jump back in time. The Matsudaira family (and associates) lived here, with a massive time keeping Taiko drum, a 25 metre in-castle water well, and (replica) talisman panels on display to conjure up how life was 400-500 years ago.



Hanami (flower viewing) picnics began to appear during our stay, the blooms incredible in their proliferation and brilliance. For these days, as much as the numerous photos I had taken tried to record, I was “blossom-speechless”. It’s every bit as good as it appears.



And the blossoms gave way to all and sundry spring growth, as we wove our way by bike through the Naka-umi, the inland sea of Matsue. Giant Cycle store supplied us with two trusty steeds, impromptu, and by ten o’clock we were headed to Kitaura beach. As far away from Matsue we could get in five hours, mostly separated bike lanes, clear water, and minimal hill work including Daikon-jima, was a worthwhile ride. Without too much rear pain.



Saying farewell to Matsue with plans to return, I clocked up several dips in Lake Shinji once I’d researched what people usually do and where there. I was pleasantly surprised of the water quality, even if the odd skerrick of rubbish was on the coastline itself. My rubbish radar had been up in general for this trip, but hearing about local coastline cleanups, I’m in part reassured that pride in an environment can exist.



Boarding two busy trains, particularly via our old friend Okayama station, delivered us some hours later to western Shikoku at Imabari. Cyclist and backpacked types offloaded to this modest sized station, and like us, looked keen to see the Setouchi, the inland sea. Six years prior, we’d explored the Shimanamikaido cycling road from Onomichi, reaching the Tatara bridge and using our legs vigorously over 100km on simple seven speed bikes. It’s popularity seems to have remained today, with a big cycle support station and Giant bikes hire store at the station.



The odd gaijin wafted past as in Matsue, some with admirably minimalist luggage, and others looking like it was a suitcase break.



Inland routes, when this is primarily a coastal area, piqued our interest to try on a weekend to avoid any tourist melee. Cycling Ehime had a variety of recommendations on routes, and ‘flying’ fairly blind, we reconciled a low resolution online map with our offline navigation to get amongst the mountain villages. That was not without a fair 15km stint on minor highways, with bike paths, to do the path true to its suggested clockwise form. Arriving middle of the day to Nyuugawa station, we then turned along the river south of it inland, to be met with a huge community hanami party under a gorgeous pink canopy. The layers of hills behind us begged to be photographed, and with a dismissive laugh to P2, I noted the two climbs we had yet to do.



The day was getting warm, which when it’s been mostly minus or single digits in Hokkaido for a month, 20C feels tropical.



What was a 60 point something course probably ended up a little more. The first climb like many in Japan was well graded, had smooth seal all the way, and on the hire bikes, easier than ours back home could be. We coasted down, wondering where these rice paddies and terraces could be, being accosted roadside (during one of our chats) with a Japanese man offering water. It was then we realised we had one more hill to go, and how scenic (and luckily graded) it was. We hit the summit among swathes of pink blossom, descending fast to Imabari. Not without more vending machine purchases, for this time it was cold rehydration needed.



Long and short Shimanamikaidoo days were thought out of how best to mix long and short effort with where we’d yet to explore. The islands, some only accessed by infrequent ferry, are a variety of terrain such that you can be guaranteed of coastal and small to steeper hills anywhere. Ooshima was our nearest island neighbour to Imabari, and circuiting it on the shorter day amounted to around 55km. Graded entry and exit of around 3-4% to the Kurushima (and all subsequent) bridges makes easy work of ascent, and with our Giant Escape bikes, coasting well on smooth roads, P2 grew to enjoy the ease even if the backside wasn’t.



We’d not planned our cafe stops but one stuck out immediately with outdoor seating and sheer timing before the Murakami maritime museum. On entry and enquiry on the coffee menu, a smiling elderly mama-san thrust a temperature gauge to my head, to show I was under average body temperature, and safe to enter. Of course I had my mask on indoors, and this became of note when an unmasked local and his masked girlfriend turned up, and declining the elderly lady’s offer of a protocol check and temperature test. When faced with mama-san’s rules, they disappeared back to their car.



After the home made hospitality served up in old teacups, I thanked the elderly owner and her daughter. And added in Japanese “you have good protocols”. Sweaty cyclists prepared to mask up (and we weren’t the only sweaty ones!) were in contrast, kindly welcomed.



Lunch overlooking the bay was followed by the Murakami museum, a nod to the history of toll-taking and caretaking of the inland sea. Using the word ‘kaizoku’ and intentionally untranslated (it is like a sea clan), we whizzed (mainly due to the Kanji) past several exhibits of old fishing accessories and unearthed ceramics. Nowadays, tourists can view the significant sea currents instead for a fee.



Onwards by tail wind, 15km later we dropped in on a beach for a refreshing and very clear dunk, by the Kurushima kaikyo bridge. Sunday meant cyclists continued to stream up and down the kaidoo even at 5pm, and upon returning the next day, we inaccurately predicted a downturn in numbers and oncoming “traffic”. Old, young, mid-aged, and several gaijin, alone and grouped, were on their bikes, and any type of bike, doing it.



Long Shimanami day was looking grim for our backsides approaching 100km, but magnificent on the weather front. Sunny skies, with a nicely breezy breeze, continued on our day that began being headed for the Tatara bridge. Completing the 2017 journey we did from Onomichi, 35km from Imabari got us to the ancient lemon grove on Ikuchishima. So old, a dinosaur was holding the first lemon planting. Still.



Back on Omishima, we took a pit stop at Wakka for a coffee in grand view of the Tatara, to prepare for some undulating hills before the reward of flatter sections in the northern island. Pink blossoms and azaleas were everywhere here, an avenue lining the road as we went west towards the port. Also everywhere, and occasionally spoiling the tumbleweed quiet of seaside villages, were electioneering mega phones that increased on our ride back to Imabari-shi.



Matsuyama on our last full day did not release us from the noise.



Utilising the bikes once more, first up we had a short tootle on the saddle to one of the few, if not only, sea level castles in Japan. Imabari castle sits high behind a tidal moat, and at this time, luckily still festooned with pink and full of water being a mid morning high tide. In contrast to the tour buses of a few days before around 8.30am, a weekday was relatively tranquil with the odd tourist and hanami picnicker. Seven kilometres on, a seaside temple, proving to be 300-400 years old, was another quiet scene among ramshackle fishing settlements.



We’d arranged Matsuyama in advance, knowing its popularity and past issues with obtaining joint seat reservations. The castle, in complete contrast to Imabari, sits high on a hill up either a cableway or steep walk and those cycling thighs felt every step. Pink was still the theme, and in our lethargy, we simply drank it all in slowly for several hours. Being up so high still couldn’t block out the, at times, entertaining and always ear piercing megaphone calls of “vote for me”.



Another nip of sake, and an Ehime curry from the local curry outlet, finished off our stay in a time when “takeout” has become a ubiquitous sign.



The late checkout I’d arranged was worth every cent at the Urban hotel, as old as the “New” building was. After one last go on the bike and dipping into clear water at a beach near Onishi, we dropped the bikes off at Giant, farewelled an unreliable washing machine that took triple time, and packed up for almost the final time.



Our final home was a different choice than usual, the Richmond in Monzen nakacho, and the eclectic mix of local life easily viewed from the tenth floor. Children were led into the baseball park for games, jungle gym and slide antics, temple activities were in sight, and also people cycling their way past, to, or from Fukugawa park area. On Saturday this activity exploded into a mini street market and temple event that the ‘gongs’ were easily heard. Who needed to step out into the mass of the underground transport system, but us.



Two full days allowed a catch up with an old friend at her izakaya in Asakadai, and several historic Japanese gardens within reach of subway stations. Underground subway time culminated on a Friday evening in the end to humidity and heavy downpours, as the daylight disappeared at Akihabara. Moving around the city with the masses is exhausting, and was quite the reflective point for what we’ve seen in nine weeks. We sipped our last takeaway coffee, calmly in our room, on Easter Saturday.



Spring showers, as well as blossom petal showers (signalling the end of flower viewing) are here. After a few years more, hopefully ourselves too.

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