I’m realising that when cycling in Japan is good, it’s great, but when it’s not good, it’s often pretty bad. Today was mostly not so good. It was largely spent on the Route 11 – a narrow but very busy road leading along the coast from Imabari, to Saijo, and eventually to Takamatsu.
Finding my way out of Imabari was easy enough. I’d had things to try and finish in the morning so I took breakfast early at the train station, around 400 Yen for coffee and an unlimited ‘bread buffet’. It was cheap and filling but not the best thing to energise you for the day ahead. I was finally cycling at 11 after asking advice in the hostel on how to best to reach Tokushima where I planned to get a ferry to Wakayama. It was a two day cycle, especially now half the day was gone, and probably not the prettiest of routes.
I had been following the length of Japan route, more or less, up until now. But i’d be making up my own route up after today, as I planned to take a shorter more direct route northwards, avoiding Osaka and hopefully having a more pleasant ride.
One of the hostel staff took a photo of me with their camera, and one on mine too. I bought some food from shops at the station, and my first two souvenirs from Japan – a handmade towel with a pattern of bikes and clouds.
Shikoku is most famous for its 88 temple pilgrimage. A 1000km+ loop around the island. As I began cycling I noticed a few pilgrims walking the route, they were easy to spot, usually dressed in white with big hats to block the sun and walking sticks with bells on. I wouldn’t be following the loop, but would hopefully pass by one of the more famous shrines tomorrow, so my aim was to get to Kotohira by the evening – about 10 miles from the site I had in mind.
Most of the 30 or 40 miles I stayed on the Route 11 was interchangeable. To my left were a constant feed of derelict gas stations, busted up restaurants, other faded things you only find at the sides of roads between places. To my right traffic – often large lorries which passed by, usually with a safe distance, though it was tiring remaining alert. I didn’t take many photos or have too many thoughts.
The road became closer to the sea and it was a relief to get a sense of space finally. The horizon was hazy and the concrete breakwaters jutted out into the milky water like some kind of giant wafer.
Soon after I found the turning for the 377, the road which would hopefully take me to a more rural setting. Within minutes the noise had died down, the road was empty, and I was cycling past rice fields and well manicured trees. A schoolboy with a face like a chow chow cycled past and said ‘konichiwa’.
I was aiming for a campsite i’d mapped but it was almost dark. I couldn’t find it and there were plenty of good spots to camp anyway so it didn’t matter. I could do with saving the money too. I’ve managed to spend an average of £20 a day, usually much less if camping. A small achievement for me. Some would still say that’s expensive, others think you need $100 a day just to survive here. It’s not a cheap country but it doesn’t need to be an expensive one either.
I camped on a ridge with a lake of some kind behind me and a view down towards the road, and beyond that, the sea. I could hear a fish flopping, the crickets chirping.
It was an unremarkable day, and they’d be others, but even days like this were still a satisfying nudge forward a couple of hundred pixels on my iPhone screen.
Playlist
Happiness – Weird Little Birthday Girl, Duster – Gold Dust, Yesway – Whoacean
Map (via Strava)