bicycles, bridges, birds of prey, bruised bottoms
Onomichi and the Shimanami Kaido
The week since we left Okayama has been a bit of whirlwind. We’ve been in full sightseeing mode and had fantastic weather which has made our backpacks full of warm clothing seem rather redundant (hopefully they will still come in handy when we’re sleeping in a van up in the northern. wilderness of Hokkaido). I’m writing from Tokyo and before here we’ve stopped off at two of Japan’s other important cities, Osaka and Kyoto. But before hitting the major metropoli (not actually a real word) we had time for one of my favourite things – a bicycle ride!
Onomichi
Our first stop after nano village was the town of Onomichi, a small port town on the shore of the inland sea. We came to ride the popular Shimanami Kaido which is a road that takes in a series of big suspensions bridges connecting small 6 islands across Japan’s inland sea and ultimately connecting Honshu (Japan’s largest island) to Shikoku (Japan’s fourth largest island).
Onomichi lies on the coastal train line between Okayama and Hiroshima, and on our previous train journeys to and from Hiroshima and Naoshima (blog entry to come!) we’d seen these massive bridges as looming silhouettes out at sea. To me they look like something from science fiction and when I read that you could cycle across them it was quite an exciting prospect.
If it wasn’t on the way to the cycle route we probably wouldn’t have made a trip to Onomichi, but it turned out to be a charming town and, if for some reason the bike ride had to be called off, I’d have happily spent another day wandering its winding streets. The town is long and thin, sandwiched between the coast and steep hills that rise up quickly behind it. The railway tracks run along in between the two. Between the tracks and shore is a strip of rough maritime industry (I saw working vessels as well as small ships being broken into scrap yards). This mergers into bars, restaurants and a shopping arcade as you get closer to the centre, which has the lively feel you’d expect from a port town.
Behind the train tracks, we followed an alley into a maze of winding paths and steep steps amongst buildings set into the hill that, taken together, had the charming appearance of a slightly ramshackle southern european cliff town, with each plot of land a different shape and abundant flora filling in corners and overhanging walls. On closer inspection the buildings are actually intact and well maintained traditional japanese houses. Compared to Japan’s metropolises with their rigid grids, Onomichi was a breath of fresh air.
Searching for our air bnb accomodation in this mediterranean-esque maze, we were taken under the wing of a friendly japanese lady who saw us looking a but lost and asked “air bnb, share house?” and then ‘Yoko?’ – the name of our host. Smiling welcomingly, she led us, along with an entourage of her friends (including a child and another adult cradling a baby) up several steep flights of steps to a front door. After several knocks there was no reply, and the whole group seemed to be puzzling over what was going on. I had completely lost my bearings by this point, we were a long way from the google map directions and I had messaged our host on but hadn’t replied immediately. Phone calls were being made on our behalf, and we were feeling guilty that what appeared to be an extended family were now taking quite a bit of time out of their day to assist a pair of clueless tourists who didn’t have enough Japanese to understand what was being said. At first we thought that this friendly and helpful lady was our host, and then that she was friends with our host, but now it seemed that she wasn’t even sure if this was the right building after all.
Eventually, I was put on the phone to someone who, to my surprise, spoke with a British accent. I explained the situation and he eventually came to the conclusion that our kind helpers had brought us to the wrong building. Confusingly, this building was also an air bnb run by a host of the same name as our host in the same area, but was in fact a totally different enterprise, building and person (and apparently they weren’t expecting guests today). Fortunately, just as I was ending the call, our Yoko came running around the corne, having also deduced what must have happened and come out to find us. After some final chatter as everyone came to understand what had happened and repeated thanks and goodbyes (arigato gozaimasu & sayonara) on our part we set off with the correct Yoko to her place which was just a couple of flights of steps above the erroneous location (both no where near Google’s reckoning, as it turns out).
Yoko’s house, whilst probably not as old as Nano village, was a beautiful, mostly wooded building in the traditional Japanese style. The bedrooms and living rooms are all placed on the downhill, seaward face, looking back over the rooftops to a magnificent view of the sea. This was enhanced by the fine weather, blooming flowers and the relief of setting down our heavy packs. Yoko brought us cups of aromatic, chilled red tea to our room. Downstairs was a beautiful kotatsu in a room that provided a floor to ceiling panorama by was of sliding wall screens and beyond, the traditional outer space becoming a balcony that Yoko seas using to dry herbs well as sheets, the latter billowing in the breeze and adding to the overall feeling over fresh sea air. She also had a super nintendo, the console that preceded the Nintendo 64 of my childhood, so I finally. got to have a go on the original mario kart (which it turns out is pretty effective emetic when it’s scaled up to a full HD, high frame rate TV)
Yoko was a really welcoming host, accepting our offer of dinner and the next evening giving poor biked-out, surnburnt Mattie a free treatment of Reiki. We also spent an enjoyable evening sat around the kotatsu with Yoko, her friends and another guest, Courtney, from Michigan, who was remarkably well traveller and cultured for 22 year old and spoke good enough japanese to offer occasional clarifications where needed and keep everybody on the same page. I’ve found the Japanese to usually be very modest, but when I mode the observation that Japanese people are always dressed with immaculate, understated good taste Yoko’s friends immediately agreed!
It really felt like what air bnb should be at its best – being welcomed into someone’s home and in return treating it with respect and the chance of naturally interacting with the host but without the intensity and obligation that can sometimes come with couchsurfing (not that that’s always a bad thing).
After our tea and a quick refresh, we headed uphill from the house to find a network of beautiful parkland and trails with blooming cherry blossom, more rewarding views and a cavalcade of temples and shrines, making for a lovely afternoon of wandering in the sun.
Looping down to the seafront we found a crepe shop which was a godsend for Mattie, possibly the first vegetarian fast food we’ve come across. I also bought what I thought were potato dumplings but turned out to be Takoyaki, the local specialty, containing minced octopus, which were as chewy as you’d expect. By the time we returned to the house we’d actually only seen a small proportion of the temples and tea houses that Onomichi has to offer. I’d definitely recommend it as a destination in its own right to anyone visiting Japan!
Off we go!
On the road at 7am! The cycle tourer in me was proud (it’s a lot easier when you don’t have to strike camp and dig your own toilet), although simultaneously unnerved by the prospect of undertaking a 70km ride without the wherewithal to repair so much as a puncture; we were given a leaflet in Japanese with a phone number to ring in the event of a mechanical which didn’t fill me with much confidence.
I managed to force myself to opt for a sensible town-style bike with a basket over some newer cool looking disc brake equipped, belt drive cross machines. (Having had trouble with back discomfort over the last few weeks, the opportunity to carry my bag up front was invaluable). Unfortunately this proved to be the wrong choice for Mattie – 70km of upright posture coupled with oddly shaped saddles gave her bottom a real hammering, and, coupled with an unexpected case of sunburn, by the end of the ride she was thoroughly bummed out. I must admit that even my well cycled rear was fairly achey by the end.
Luckily, there was a long and enjoyable stretch of gentle cycling before this point, the highlight of which is the view across the sea and between the islands as you cross the impressive bridges. Each island looks like a forested. mountain wilderness on the approach, however the main cycle path sticks to the coast and goes through as much industrialised port and main road as it does trees, bamboo forest and citrus groves. Wherever we were, however, there was usually Sakura (cherry blossom) somewhere insight. With more time and better bikes you could take some of the minor roads through the centre of the islands which are probably prettier and more secluded, but I personally find the industrial side of things interesting too, and there is something lovely about cruising a town bike along coastline on smooth asphalt and looking out to sea.
An unexpected highlight was trying soft scoop ice cream for the first time. When our american friends had described this to us, I thought they were getting all excited about flavoured Mr Whippy. But on the beach where we stopped for our picnic (and picnics m for me is always a massive highlight to any sort of active day) we decided to take a punt on some being sold as. it looked a cut above the stuff you get from ice cream vans at home, and it really was. Textured and seasoned with big flakes of salt, the only problem was how quickly it melted!
I noticed that along the whole route the sky was abundant with birds of prey – sadly I didn’t have my cycling buddy and knowledgeable orthinologist (word-botcher) Tom with me to identify them, nor do I have a proper telepohoto lens with me, but some were very big, they looked like red kites except less red, so perhaps they were Tobi – black kites which, according to google, are common in Japan. At times they came really close and I even saw one skirmishing with a rook up close which was the first time I’ve seen two birds of that size fighting. Unfortunately my bike had a very, very squeaky brake, so much so that braking hard produced a sound not unlike the scream of a baby elephant. Consequently every time one came close I automatically slammed on my brakes only to scare it right off.
There are also some museums and other sights on the islands that we didn’t stop at – most notably a chocolate factory! – again, with more time it would have been great to stop at and explore the islands a little more. Doing the whole thing over two days and taking a few alternative roads would be fun – I saw a few groups of Japanese bikepackers with tents in tow doing this and can’t say I was a little jealous. Watching the sunset over the sea from a cosy camp spot would be immensely satisfying, Nevertheless, there’s a nice sense of completion in doing it over the course of a day, and after leaving our bikes at a drop off point in the city of Imabari we found an excellent bakery and felt entirely justified in guzzling treats whilst we waited for the return bus that would carry us sleepily back across the bridges and to Onomichi.
Although the Shimanami Kaido is a bit of a tourist route (though we saw as many domestic tourists as foreigners) there were a number of serious cyclists blasting along it, and more generally i’ve noticed that mamil culture seems to be taking hold in Japan too (though it wouldn’t seem to be to golf’s detriment, as at home). The japanese mamil seems to have more of an affectation for backpack wearing and, more unusually, for tiny wheeled bicycles. There are a lot of small wheeled bikes around but i’ve also noticed a number of flash looking, drop bar racing bikes equipped with rollers that look like they could be taken off the underside of an office chair (I actually think they’re really cool).
I’ve also seen some other weird and wonderful cycling equipment, such as this saddle in Tokyo that looks like it was design for some sort of giant insect
Bicycles that carry multiple children are also very common; rather than the trailers I see in Bristol it’s usually one on a front seat, one on the back and a baby between the handlebars and the mum (i’ve only ever seen women riding these, sadly). Scooter style bar mounted hand warmers are also common and apparently still used when it’s over 20 degrees.
We continued our bicycle adventures our next destination, Kyoto. The guesthouse we stayed at is owned by a bike lover, and harbours a fleet of belle town bikes (fortunately a little more forgiving in the saddle department than those at Onomichi) as well as a squadron of of full carbon, high end road bikes (full ultegra, for bike nerds).
Again, we opted for the sensible option – I took one for a spin on the evening we arrived and on our final day mattie’s bottom was recovered enough for us to take a 6am ride through largely empty streets in order to beat the crowds to the most popular sights. I’ll always love cycle touring and the feeling of adventure and self sufficiency it offers, but the experience of riding a pretty and well maintained simple town bike through smooth, empty (and flat) streets in a new city, bag in basket and without so much as a hint of lycra brings its own special joy to the souls. Mattie may disagree but I hope there a few more bike rides before we return home!
