Today is the morning of day three in Japan. I woke up to Edwin, my traveling companion, standing in the kitchen of our small Air BNB. I barely moved; I could feel how cold the room was through the sheets. The heater had been on the fritz since our first day here, working only at night when it turned the upper bunk into an oven.
Fresh, hot Balinese coffee, courtesy of a friend of mine from Indonesia — the first time I’d had hot coffee since leaving America.
The first two days in Japan passed by in a blur of activity. My flight left from Saigon at 12:30 AM on Sunday, arriving in Japan around 7:30. I managed to sleep for a few hours on the flight, but spots of strong turbulence and clumsy passengers (I had an aisle seat) kept me awake for most of it. When we arrived, I discovered I needed to give an address to immigration. The address was on my phone, but I needed wifi to access it. The immigration officer decided to let me through (just this once, he said), and I made my way to baggage claim.
I thought that was the end of it. However, when I went through customs a few minutes later, they weren’t as forgiving about the address, and asked me to step into a back room with them. The two officers — one who spoke no English at all, and one who knew the basics — proceeded to question me about my intentions here in the country while going through every piece of luggage I had.
When I told them I intended to cycle the entirety of the country, they both looked at me as though I were insane. It’s 6 degrees outside right now, so I very well might be. The questioning went smoothly, until they checked my messenger bag and found a set of sleeping pills I’d gotten in Vietnam while sick. Both of them immediately went on alert and told me to wait, before stepping out of the room.
They returned a few minutes later and thanked me for my cooperation, gave me the pills, and sent me on my way. I was completely baffled — and a bit annoyed — but glad to be free. I wandered around the Fukuoka airport for a few minutes, taking in the sights, before I found a bus station and headed to Hakata bus station to meet Edwin.
When I told him about my immigration troubles and showed him the pills, he burst into laughter. “Those look just like MDMA tabs,” he told me.
Great. So Japanese immigration thinks I’m a drug smuggler.
Once Edwin and I met, things rapidly improved. We found ourselves at a rotating sushi shop, where plates of sushi pass by on conveyor belts and you take what you like from them. We explored the mall, taking a couple of pictures with a giant bear along the way, and scoped out potential places to buy gear.
Okonomiyaki — some of the most delicious food I’ve tasted anywhere.
It’s been several days since then. Our apartment is a complete disaster as gear and equipment lay strewn about, but four floors below our bikes wait, tied securely to the outside of our building. We will finish packing and loading them tonight, and tomorrow we board the shinkansen — the bullet train — to Kagoshima. From there, we take a smaller train to Ibusuki, then board a ferry to Tarumizu. It’s roughly 20 kilometers from Tarumizu to Cate Sata.
Once we reach the Cape, we’ll set up camp for the evening. The day after that, we’ll wake early and start our northward journey. We aim to be in Osaka by April 2, some 972 kilometers north of our starting point. The cherry blossoms are due to bloom at any time, and the moment they do, the world around us will erupt with color.
My time in Japan has been absolutely packed with activity, and each night I have fallen into bed and been asleep within moments. It’s only going to get even more crazy from here on out, with each day spent cycling.
In a way, it’s somewhat surreal. Japan has always been the country I wanted to visit more than any other, so I’m still coming to terms with the reality that I’m actually here, especially at the time when the country is arguably at its most beautiful.
No Comments