It was less than a month ago that I was trudging through snow on Hokkaido, now I'm in the snow on Kosciusko.

Rach and I ventured up to the mountains for a look on the weekend. Two hours from home and we were overlooking a snow filled landscape - well, it would have been two hours if we didn't stop for steak sandwiches, danish pastries and coffee at the Adaminaby Bakehouse (Oh, and the cherry jam we brought home is gooood).

Took the new (old) Canon A1 up, along with some red lenses (hence the dark skies in one or two images). Unfortunately only had 400 ASA film in the box but in a way it works.

And the pub, well we needed refreshment for the drive home; the Alpine Hotel, replete with snow men on the veranda, provided.

In true Canberra style, I spent the next day doing something completely different. Glassy waters made the Sunday morning paddle a dream (once the temperature rose from -3.5 degrees I must admit). Then it was a walk through the national parks from Hackett to the Majura Winery. It was a hard walk back resisting the bottles in the backpack!!

Day 11: Base camp Hirafu - 27km by bike and half a day by car
 
Tosan offered us a tour of the region by car after he finished his tennis coaching at lunch so we had half a day to explore the immediate area. Our first destination was Half Moon Lake on the side of Mt Yotei, the ride around it on quasi single track was fun although it seemed to annoy the local naturalists. Then a pleasant road tour of Niseko and its surrounds to roll our legs finished up at the local outdoor store/cafe where we enjoyed the best choc/banan/cinamon smoothies that side of Sapporo.

Route 66 to Iwani on the coast had just recently been reopened after the snow season, so we packed the car with a picnic lunch and headed of into the hills via the tastiest natural spring I have encountered since the Norwegian Alps. Reminiscent of Rotarua, New Zealand, we stopped at a stinky thermal pool before we hit the top of the mountain for a short walk into a beautiful marshland national park, through patches of snow the flowers were starting bloom and the water in the ponds was crystal clear.
 
Kosan had conjured up the most fantastic picnic lunch with rice balls, fried chicken, vegetables and Japanese egg pancakes. Well satisfied it was a long drive down the other side of the mountain to Iwani before we hit roads very reminiscent of the island's south eastern Golden Road. Tosan made me feel slightly uncomfortable with his constant stories of collapsed tunnels; I was fine when we were driving through the newer one's, which were gradually being replaced, but the old narrow one's were a little scary, especially when he commented, "a few years ago this tunnel collapsed just here and killed a bus load of people........."

Cape Kamui was out next destination after we stopped for ice-cream and a short display of amazing long rod fishing on the coast road. The cape was breathtaking.
 
I had planned to try and make it to Oichi, where Nikka whiskey was made. It was going to be late when we arrived so no distillery tour was on the cards but no more than a hundred metres from the factory was a fish/liquor/grocery market where I picked up a bottle of Ten year old malt and Kosan bought fresh seafood for our dinner. Arriving back at the pension in the dark Tosan directed us to meet across the road at a small hand built lodge that he owned for a BBQ - the most impressive BBQ feast I have ever encountered, and I'm Australian!

Then Tosan whispered inmy ear that he wanted to show me his camera colection (much of which Kosan knows nothing about!) and his bikes. Then it was into the bar below the house (which pumps out live jazz in winter) for a very impressive drum demo!

Day 12: Hirafu to Sapporo - 101.5km
 
The great race began at around 9am. I was to ride the mysterious and reportedly desolate route 393 over the mountains, into Otaru and then along route 5 into the big city of Sapporo. Tom was to have a drum lesson with his drumming idol Tosan, then catch a series of trains to Sapporo assemble his bike and ride to the Hotel Ramada, where we would rendezvous.
 
I was waved off in the traditional Japanese way and 16km later was tap dancing out of the saddle and into the mountains. Again a nice gradient lifted me over a range and into a tunnel, the last time I would see Mt Yotei. Then something strange happened, I rode downhill for almost 10km, at one stage a truck struggled to overtake me as I was already over the speed limit. I then sat behind him and actually had to brake as he couldn't corner at speed like I could. Crystal clear streams flowed under the road endlessly and the forest was thick with bamboo and pine. It seemed I was now on the plateau where small farms were wedged between hillsides. I found the only ice-cream shop Tosan talked of and stopped for refreshment. Soon enough I was back at snow level after some long climbs and the long switchback downhill into Otaru began. I had devised a short cut and lost 10km from the trip by avoiding Otaru itself, this was all well and good, but the entire 35km to Sapporo was built up industrial or residential land. No rest on the bike, just timed traffic light after timed traffic light (Why can't they install sensors!!!!!!).

I suspected that the train that passed me a few km from Otaru had Tom aboard (later confirmation confirmed my suspicion) and I pedalled on. The only respite I received was once I hit the real city, where my track bike city riding experiences saw me dodging freely through traffic, flowing at speed and cutting corners faster than any cars; albeit, fully laden I did have to make sure there was enough room in the tight spots for my panniers!
 
I sensed I was close to the hotel and to Tom, but the street signage was less than helpful as the station signs which I was following had all but disappeared. I messaged Tom to check up and he was in town on his bike! I found my bearings and knew where I had to be. The town was a beautiful and less hectic version of Tokyo and I followed the main drag 'til I saw the Ramada sign, no bike to be seen. Dubious of my success I almost triumphantly messaged Tom to ask if he was in, reply: "Just checked in 30secs ago. Now in room, Your key is at desk. Bikes in cloak room." Doh!

I found him whacking away incessantly on the drum sticks he'd brought to practice on. After a shower we were onto a food hunt, a quick browse of electrickery and into the old Sapporo brewery beer house for all we could drink beer (in 100 mins) and BBQ. Following that we searched for a COUPLE OF HOURS for an ATM that would accept out cards as Tom had lost 20,000 yen in cash ($AUS200). We rejoiced after penny counting enough small change to buy a burger each, the humiliation still stings. Once we had money it was more beer at a Spanish bar!!

Day 13: Base camp Sapporo
 
We were under the weather. Strong coffee and donuts for breakfast (tip: the best coffee in Sapporo is at any Mister Donut). The cable car was shut as they were renovating so we caught a tram around town for a while before heading up the tower for a look. More shopping and roaming then it was off to the Sapporo beer museum for some learning and cheap beer.
 
The city had been taken over by a festival, most of the main streets were closed and bunches of teenage dancers were running about in file from one performance to another. There were also a couple of beer gardens on the main strip and we stopped for beer and Yakitori before heading back to the room for warm clothes so that we could hang out there.
 
We feasted on all kinds of Japanese delicacies then settled into a few quite ones. We had seen not a single white person on the trip until day 11 in Hirafu, and since then only a handful, even in Sapporo, so we did stand out a little. Is that why we were constantly offered free food and cans of beer by those surrounding us? We had a ball and met over half a dozen great people who knew enough English for us to have a laugh and learn a little about each other. The BEST way we could have ever envisaged farewelling such a fantastic country!
 
On the way back to the hotel we stopped for a quick Japanese whiskey and Tom a Guinness (he was trying to reintegrate I suppose) and then bed before the day of our departure.

Day 14: Sapporo to Chitose - 45.1km
 
We wanted to get to the airport relatively early to ensure any problems could be solved before our 1710 flight. A long stretch of built up highway had us on a slow roll with enough time to reminisce over the last couple of weeks. I must admit it was emotional entering the the airport from the opposite direction to which we had ridden out two weeks earlier, better men for it, and in our minds, pioneers in what we had just accomplished.
 
Right up until the police stopped us and started taking down our details for riding illegally through the tunnel. Once they realised we were leaving their country and would be out of their hair within hours they were happy to let us go. So we found our stored bike boxes and got busy repacking. They were once again searched prior to checking in, this time by slightly bemused security staff who were impressed with my Japanese knife and whiskey stock. Luckily our baggage was checked all the way to Sydney so it was time to really relax with a HUGE seafood set meal, a flight, another meal of some kind of veggie seafood ball and beer, then the long flight home. We awoke to Sydney on a Sunday morning, shitty weather saw me on a packed bus and back to Canberra.

The bike survived, luggage survived and Tom and I more than survived, we thrived! I hope your pixelated eyebalss were worth the effort and you now understand some of what Tom and I experienced. This really is an area of the world that needs to be seen untouched and in its full sureal glory before it all inevitably changes.

I hope to write some more about the trip, helpful hints and recommendations. But this is enough for now so thanks for coming!

Day 8: Base camp Biei - 75.5km return to Mt Tokashi
 
Tom seemed to miss the exhilaration of combustion driven transport so decided to have a rest day by busing it up to Shirogane, these city folk are a little odd. I decided that I wanted to ride toward the top of Mt Tokashi until either the incline was too much or my tires would no longer grip to the snow!
 
The road led directly out of Biei and through 10km of farmland before it hit the national park with its dense bamboo leaved floor and thick tree cover. A path had been constructed on the side of the road witch over time had become covered in a yellow-green moss and gave the impression of riding on carpet. My first stop was the blue pools - a picture is worth a thousand words. So far on the trip we had not seen a tourist sign written in English and this destination was no different, so I'll let you guess what the significance of the place was! I then followed some leaf lined single track along a wilderness path, there were bear signs everywhere but I'm pretty sure that I was alone out there and if not I could out ride the buggers!
 
I came across a water fall which by itself was very impressive, with mossy rocks and the type of pine trees I associated with Japan surrounding it; however, the most impressive part of the scene was the temple and religious ceremony taking place in front of my eyes. I spent a while there watching and trying to keep out of the way. Food was being placed on the temple and I couldn't help but notice that a couple of crows or ravens had their eyes on it all. As the procession wound around the back of the temple to commence foot washing and water splashing I was alarmed to see the birds tearing the food apart and spreading it around the site, dragging entire bags of food metres before getting into them. Now, this would have been fine if I wasn't the ONLY person there, and a disheveled foreigner who looked a little hungry. In order to avoid any accusations of pilfering I very quickly mounted my steed and rode on, and what a ride it was, single kilometres of singletrack lined with temples!

The road then started heading up, the snow capped mountains started getting whiter and the temp started dropping to a very comfortable climbing temperature. This certainly WAS NOT the day to be couped up in a bus and I felt sorry for Tom, for a moment. I passed through the tourist/hot spring town of Shirogane and hit a junction, I chose the road that looked to be going up. And up it went, a perfect gradient led me higher for almost half an hour before another junction required a decision, so up I went. I arrived at the national park car park where the road stopped and I could see the snow covering the volcanic rock that made up the moonscape. Some air was let out from the Big Apples and I kept on riding, up. The confusion in the father and sons eyes  soon turned to amusement as I mimicked a deranged and exhausted man riding up the hill to nowhere. It then got steeper and rockier, so much so that riding was becoming impossible and I resorted to moving by foot; until the snow prevented that. I'd done it!

Riding rocky downhill on a rigid touring bike on slick (albeit fat) tyres isn't the best idea but bejeesus it was fun. My maximum speed was a measly 36km/h but my eyeballs were shaking in their sockets and my blurry vision prevented me going any faster. I was cold and the thick black cohee (coffee) at the small shop was a very welcome treat.
 
I didn't want this riding to end so continued on, exploring the rolling and climbing roads that led toward Furano. Snow covered the floor of the forest and waterways were running under the ice. I eventually reached an Onsen (hot spring). There was an indoor Onsen with full car park and shop, and there was a thermal waterfall, which looked far more interesting so I followed the trail down to where the mostly naked people were perched in rock pools on the edge of a sheer cliff!

I fitted my rain coat to head back down the mountain for fear of freezing and losing control of my fingers (those with which I brake). Needless to say, the trip down the mountain was FUN and a speed limit or two may or may not have been broken. Once I reached Shirogane again Tom and I rendezvous at one of the hotels at which he was about to enjoy an onsen of his own. We bought beers from a vending machine and enjoyed another of our popular routines - beer and 100 yen massage chairs. Ten minutes a coin, I put through 300 yen before I decided it was time to head back to town.
 
If there was one thing we learned in Japan, it was to avoid at all costs any kind of restaurant or cafe that in any way mimicked the type of place you grandma likes to visit on a quiet Sunday morning; you know the ones, arts and crafts scattered for sale on the shelves, pale colours mixed with wooden furniture and frilly table settings. We had booked to eat at the restaurant next door to the hostel which fit this description; big mistake.

Day 9: Biei to Furano and surrounds - 65km
 
Furano was a short 30 or so km hop from Biei along winding farm land roads nestled between two huge ranges, both capped in snow. Once we arrived we headed to the ski resort side of town and checked into a hotel at the base of a snow run, before heading off san panniers to explore the town. First stop was ice-cream, not really a routine of ours, just a very popular past time, they love their soft serve on Hokkaido! Mine was with fresh local berries, nom.
 
Tourist brochures in hand we stopped in at a set of markets built in a forest and connected by boardwalks. Probably the most tourist oriented destination we'd visited so far it still provided some great shopping opportunities. Mine was a Damascus style steel knife, hand made in the back of the hut, along with a carving; while Tom spent big on the greatest kaleidoscope ever produced. The cheese factory which made up our next stop is not worth a mention, and the parkland which boasted 100 temples didn't hold a flame against my jungle single track the day prior. So we held big expectation on the wine region of Furano.......well, the grape juice factory was sensational......wine? Not so, I suppose that's our fault though, they aren't exactly famous for it.
 
The day was almost dusted and we were starving, having been disappointed by the availability of food at both the cheese factory and the wineries, so we headed out for two dinners, one close to the hotel and one further in town at a place called Boco's. Both were sensational, and followed by another routine of ours, two ice creams from the local store after our meal, as Japanese do not do desert.

Day 10: Furano to Hirafu and surrounds - 3 trains and 27km of riding
 
Unfortunately we'd worked ourselves into a bit of a hole. The only way out of Furano was south, where we'd already been, north, where we'd come from, and west, directly into the built up surround of Sapporo and to the coast. Tom devised a cunning plan which required us to purchase bike bags (compulsory for train travel with a bike in Japan) and three train trips. This journey would see us smack in the middle of the Niseko region, famed with Australian for its great snow and well known to Tom.
 
It was a straight forward journey and the bike bags paid off, but I was overwhelmingly relieved to be back on the bike at Hirafu station......heeelloooo? No one, no signs, just a disgruntled local man walking his dog who looked like he'd skin us for our pelts. There was however a significant land mark that would lead us to Tosan's house (Tom's regular stay in Hirafu). Mt Yotei was a big fucking volcano with snow on it, symmetrical and directly to our east. All we needed to do was get between it and Mt Niseko and we'd find the ski village and a bed for the night.

After a short stop at a farmhouse for ice-cream and some dubious winding roads that seemed to take us in every direction but where we wanted to go, we made it to the township and the amazing European residence of Tosan and his wife. The house was built 30 years ago when he was the only pension in the town, now it's a kind of skiing paradise and is slowly being enveloped by multi story lifeless hotels.
 
Sans panniers we headed up the mountain where I learned a valuable lesson - don't follow a downhill skier up a hill he knows during winter by its lifts, runs and fluorescent signage. We were just going for a 'ride around town' but spent two hours pushing bikes up trails that only had signs of use by tracked vehicle. Once at the top we had no way to get back down as the trail was far too steep so we resorted to a green run, not ideal but my 2.35" Big apple let down to 25PSI was the karmic payback I received while Tom vibrated his way down. Having said that, it was a great view and well worth the pain.
 
Then Tosan treated us to his favourite sushi joint followed by a visit to an onsen in Niseko. Once I had the process down pat all was good, but it really isn't as simple as jumping naked into a thermal pool - lots of shoe changing, washing, rinsing and loin cloth etiquette. Then slowly boiling in a 41.9 degree pool! The beer I had after that bath was hard earned!

Day 4: Obihiro to Rikubetsu - 111km
 
From big city to quaint ski village we couldn't believe out luck to have a strong tailwind almost the entire way, on what were relatively flat roads with nice wide shoulders and open quiet farmland. By comparison with Australia, the part of Hokkaido we travelled through on day 4 was reminiscent of central NSW farmland. Some towns were alive with business and well cared for buildings, while others were ghost towns with dilapidated buildings and run down businesses. Each with their own charm it wasn't until we hit Ashoro that we found a town that seemed without any charm. We knicknamed it 'Ass-holo' and quickly decided, after the biggest burger I’ve eaten in years, to continue on to Rikubetsu, a decision we were glad we made.
 
The train line along the corridor we'd ridden from the farmland of Ashoro into the forest lined mountains that day, was shut down recently, which explained some of the obvious economic downturn in the regional towns. It also left some towns with huge buildings (train stations) sitting empty, so what did Rikubetsu do with theirs? They turned it into a very well appointed hostel/hotel! We checked in and undertook what was to be a daily ritual - one of us found a beer vending machine while the other showered. After we'd freshened up we headed into town for a walk and spied a temple on the hill, which we visited as the sun dropped below the horizon. Then, as recommended by the second English speaking Japanese we'd encountered, visited the local noodle house. No English spoken there but we rustled up the support of the only other soul in the place, a well dressed local who helped us order!

Day 5: Rikubetsu to Monbetsu - 135.8km
 
Our breakfast was already set out by the time we hit the dining area. You guessed it - picked squid. I tried so hard to finish it but a small bowl of squid just isn't a breakfast food that gives you what you need to ride 140km over the range to the coast. So we began another ritual - visiting the local Seicomart or 7eleven to stock up on delicious rice balls for our journey. Some packages have a photo on the label to let you know what is hidden deep inside the sticky rice, however, it was luck of the draw when there was no picture - many a rice ball never saw my digestive tract........
 
It was beautiful riding through the mountains again that morning, past many small ski resorts and abandoned railway stations. We headed up hill for an hour or so before we were lucky enough to speed over nine km of gradual downhill. More ups and downs punctuated the journey until we eventually hit farmland again at the top of Hokkaido. It had only been a few days but we'd already cut the island in half and were on our way to the north coast. The roads were easy, and the farmland somewhat more interesting and alive than in the south. Tom was enjoying a slower pace on the day so we split up to enjoy some time on our own (his pace may have had something to do with the dog food he sampled in a certain bakery - all the dog photos surrounding the 'samples bowl' must have been lost in translation - see pic below)

Soon enough the sea came into view and the huge fishing city of Monbetsu loomed on the coast, nestled between the mountains and the sea. Its surrounding industrial area enveloped us for many km before we were able to turn toward the esplanade and find a somewhat fruitless information beaureau. We decided to ride toward the tallest buildings and find a hotel, in our experience nothing was expensive and it turned out that even at room at what seemed to be the ritziest hotel only set us back $AUS60 each a night. We underwent our nightly beer/shower ritual and headed off toward the closest Seicomart for a six pack of Sapporo Classic, then it was down to the wharf to watch the half submerged fully laden fishing boats steam into port before they were promptly evacuated of all fish and seemed to sit on top of the water in comparison. I'm not sure what the locals thought of us, but considering all the signs in town were half Japanese half Russian, they probably just assumed we were drunkard Ruskies. In fact, once we'd finished out beers we headed for the first restaurant we could find and were promptly seated by a slightly uncomfortable old man in his tiny rustic restaurant. When he figured out we were in fact Australian, not Russian, he apologised profusely and relaxed, to do his books at the table beside us and feed us beer and crab cooked by his wife in the kitchen, alongside their lounge room!

Day 6: Monbetsu to Shibetsu - 116.34km
 
The map reconnaissance of the day's riding ahead had me slightly concerned that the route we'd be taking to avoid the mountains would be less than appealing. It turned out I was right, although the coutryside still held its charm and certainly wasn't boring. Once we crossed the range we began to see occasional rice paddies, until we were surrounded by them in every direction, wedged between steep hills, scattered with farmhouses. The long drag into Shibetsu had us  resort to riding on the foot path as the traffic was near on unbearable between the two bigger towns of Nayoro and Shibetsu. The setting sun combined with the haze of the day cast an apocalyptic light over the town, but having already covered 115km we had no choice but to hole up. We found what was again the ritziest hotel and checked in, our bikes secured in the glamorous function room we commenced the beer/shower routine and hit the town for Yakitori (meat on a stick). We'd experienced the friendliest people on the trip so far, all going out of their way to help despite a lack of a common language; the lady at the restaurant we visited found it easier to ignore us and steer us well clear of the fresh asparagus we spied in her fridge! But all was well; we sat, engulfed in BBQ and cigarette smoke and enjoyed the perfectly cooked meat that was presented on hand gesture and broken Japanese request.

Day 7: Shibetsu to Biei - 88km
 
Now we were getting into the country we were looking forward to, snow capped mountains and rolling hills, summer ski slopes and hot springs. The only thing lying between us was the major city of Asahikawa. I wasn't dreading the city itself but the seemingly endless industrial surrounds of most major cities we'd encountered. Luckily we'd learned a lesson since we'd been in the country, and that was to find the major river that flows through the town and follow the parkland and bitumen paths that parallel it. Asahikawa was no different and in this case we cut endless traffic lights from out journey, while also allowing us to wave at the usual Park-Golf fanatics along the grassy parkland.
 
We cut through town in record time and were soon back on the flat straight roads express to Biei. Tom was feeling a bit average and were both we suffering from a sore knee or two from the pace we'd been setting, so I headed off again until I found a fantastic little cafe full of motor bikes and memorabilia. I turned around and found Tom to make sure he didn't stop somewhere else and we enjoyed beer and pizza to fuel us for the remainder of the journey. I watched out the window as the weather seemed to be turning, then once we finished upped the pace to Biei so that I could find the hostel and guide Tom in before he reached town.

The rain started just as we headed quite a way out of town, through the hills to the hostel. We checked in to a beautiful a spacey hostel with wide open views of farmers fields and the backdrop of snow capped mountains. Then it was a quick drive into town by the staff and a roam around in the rain before we stopped at the only place that seemed open and not fully booked, a kind of franchise that served huge meals that we more than appreciated, as well as locally produced beer.
 
Next stop was a cosy Yakitori bar that we stopped at for a couple of beers. Out came the Sapporo Classic and complimentary edamame, the owner brought out a tray of Yakitori to show us what he had so I ordered the chicken, which came out exquisitely cooked, on the brink of being rare but definitely not pink. Juicy! Soon after we arrived a man in work clothes arrived, obviously fresh from his farm; he sat down and a green bottle, next to scores of other green bottles on the shelves, was plonked in front of him. It seems everyone has their own bottle, named and kept on the premises. There was a little chatter before he handed over a large bag of white and green asparagus, obviously in exchange for his dinner. As we sat, slowly finishing pint after pint of beer the owner came from the other side of the bar with a plate of fresh BBQ's asparagus, as thick as your thumb! The mystery of just what was in the green bottles got the most of us so Tom wondered over to a line up of bottles and checked it out, it was Soju from Korea, although in Japan it's called Chochou. The farmer caught us checking out the liquor and swiftly asked the lady of the house for two classes with ice, then filled them almost to the top and handed them over; a refreshing after dinner palette cleanser! Eventually it was time to leave as the handful of other patrons began to leave so we finished up our beers - alas, before we could leave the owner came back around the bar with two large glasses of his best Sake, delicious!

As I sit here sipping some 10 year old Nikka whiskey I carted hundreds of kilometres in my pannier from Oichi, the town it was created, I can't put into words exactly what riding around Hokkaido was like. I know when I arrive at work tomorrow everyone will ask how it was, all I'll be able to say is, 'awesome', 'the best in the world', 'some kind of cycle touring Mecca'!!!! But there'll be now way to convince someone in a short conversation of the immense diversity of the island, the friendliness of its people and the isolation from the western world. So on this weblog, through words and pictures, I'll try to convey what Tom and I experience; then you can sit back and dream, make your own plans or make an excuse; but hopefully you get some idea of what it was like for us.
 
I'd been planning a touring trip this year, due to work commitments my plan of a month in Europe was on thin ice, so when Tom made me aware of his experiences in Hokkaido in the snow season and his desire to see it in summer, I was all for it. Rocky coastlines, tiny villages, rainforest, snow covered volcanoes and beer; what could be better?
 
So we booked flights and started planning. The plan consisted of packing our bikes, flying, landing, staying at Toyasata on night one and..............well that was it. Entirely by ear we'd circumnavigate the island in an anti-clockwise direction. (Out of interest, it ended up being more of a figure eight, with a train ride in the middle!!)

Just a quick note: I'm not going to apologise for the quality and/or arrangement of the images that follow. The truth is, I carried four cameras (Nikon D90, Leica M6, Panasonic DMC-LX3 and the iPhone) and Tom carried his own (with cool panoramic mode). While I love taking photos that will serve as life long memories, I've long outgrown the urge to spend hours taking a perfect photo only to spend more time processing it on a computer; not my thing anymore; so the images are what they are, almost straight from the camera. I've also mixed the images up in order to present them chronologically, it'll be pretty easy to tell them apart, especially the great special effects the iPhone brings with it. So the page may look a little messy; but it's kinda like our attitude to the trip, we took it as it came and it worked out flawlessly in the end!

Day zero: Canberra to Chitose - 8850km
 
I'd sent out a note offering a free lunch and beer in exchange for a lift to the bus station, mostly as a result of my general hatred for taxi drivers these days but also as insurance against their failure to turn up and my yearning to nourish my friends. So Henry and I enjoyed my last burger and beer in Australia before I caught the bus for Sydney international airport and tried to bargain my way into premium economy seating (Tom had already been successful in Melbourne so it was my job to try and match his seat). I did and we boarded the plane to discover that we had enough room to conduct 'activities' (queue: 'Step Brothers') on the floor in front of our seats. So we ate, drank, slept and arrived in Tokyo, where out bikes were inspected at length by a security officer who was as confused as us as to why she had to check out bikes over. Much was lost in translation as we tried to ask just what she was looking for; in the end I figured she was just 'doing her job', much like a lot of Japan where even some street signs are held up by human beings.

Day 1: Chitose airport to Toyosata - 65.62km
 
As we landed in Chitose we began formulating a plan with respect to exactly how things would work when we returned to the airport to fly out of the country. It seemed they had never seen or considered travelling by air with a bicycle so had no bike boxes for us to purchase once we returned. The $AUS70 storage fee for the boxes seemed to be the only way, so we unpacked, built out bikes and deposited out boxes.
 
We headed south on roads that seemed too good to be true. Wide and empty with either spacious marked shoulders or entire bike paths the size of roads. In what was practically a commute to get us out of civilisation we followed the old highway which was now bypassed by a modern expressway. The signs of what previously must have been a busy tourist thoroughfare were everywhere, with derelict service stations and signage of days gone by. I did however, begin my adventure in Japan with a spot of luck, after putting my hand into what looked like a Japanese torture machine and turned out to be a lucky dip it seems I had one a free bowl of two minute noodles........lucky me.....
 
Eventually we heard the roar of the ocean and caught glimpses of it as we rolled along the mostly flat and straight roads then hit the rolling hills and semi-industrial coastal towns. Slightly concerned at how far we were riding inland, we followed directions to the hostel we'd be spending the night at, the only booked accommodation of the entire trip. A hand built wooden house, a friendly and barely English speaking lady (okasan, 'mother of the house' to us) and her seemingly disgruntled husband (otosan, 'father of the house' to us). We weren't in Kansas anymore and once we settled in, beer was cracked, the next day's route was planned and dinner served fresh from the kitchen. Once we figured out how to build a Japanese bed we were off to sleep.

Day 2: Toyosata to Erimo - 115.34km by bike (12km by car)
 
The breakfast of champions was served from the wood stove overlooking the farm. We held limited conversation with okasan to figure out the next best stop. It turned out Erimo, a remote coastal village on the southern tip of Hokkaido would be the best bet, and it had a hostel. She made a call for us, gave us direction on a piece of paper (in Japanese) and waved us off until we were out of sight!
 
The morning consisted of rolling coastal roads punctuated by relatively heavily industrial fishing towns frequented by what seemed to be commuting workers and trucks. The crowdedness of the roads didn't faze us as there was almost always a shoulder and the drivers were more than considerate. We stopped in a larger town in order to allow Tom to buy a lock for our bikes (and mail home the keyless one he brought, along with his shoes and other 'heavy things') and soon it was getting close to lunch, so we stopped at the first place we saw with flags flying (their version of an open sign). To say the meal we were presented with was 'satisfying' was an understatement. Not a word of English was spoken or written in the house, but someone had drawn a pig on a sign alongside what looked to be a list of items (obviously a 'set meal') so I ordered that and Tom managed to order a soup set using his phrase book.

One thing we had noticed in out short stay was the fact that the locals were quite aware that we could not speak or read Japanese but completely unaware that we could not understand the spoken word. The old lady at the house had to be reminded of this fact by the teenager who laughed every time she'd rattle off a long winded sentence expecting us to reply!
 
As the day went on the towns became more quaint and less industrial, some with paved streets and bakeries and other FULL of hair dressers, hundreds of them! We did however, notice that the weather was getting considerably worse and we were heading into a strong headwind. We figured the best survival strategy was for me to take the lead and shield Tom from the wind as we fought onward, with still around 40km to go.
 
We reached a town which we thought was the Erimo in our directions. We passed through it and found nothing resembling a hostel. It was freezing cold, we were buggered and the weather seemed to be getting worse so we stopped for directions at the last place I expected to find help, a small local store isolated on the outskirts of town. Tom was inside for what seemed an eternity then poked his head out and told me that the owner's daughter, Yuko, spoke English and they could help us. I headed inside out of the wind and Yuko's mother handed us two cans of coffee, piping hot out of what looked like a fridge but was actually a type of 'coffee-can-oven'!

Yuko rang the hostel and it was obvious it'd be too far and too treacherous to ride as the town we were headed for was further down on the exposed tip of the peninsular, so we asked about accommodation in town. Without a second thought Yuko asked how big our bikes were, and within minutes we were squeezing our bikes into the smallest van in the world.
 
We discovered that we were suffering through the weather effects of a monsoon on the mainland, so when we arrived at the hostel and met Senba, she asked how long we'd be staying. We suggested it may be a couple of night the way the weather was looking. She checked us in, and then showed us around. I must admit we were somewhat puzzled when she show us our room - a large almost empty room, floor covered in straw mats and a coffee table in the middle. It wasn't until we opened the wardrobe that we found matts and sheets to sleep on, along with a pillow that seems full of some kind of grain. Either way, they were comfortable and we were out of the weather.
 
We warmed up in the recreation/dining room and met everyone else in the place. Yuko, out of the kindness of her heart decided to stay the night and was invaluable in making it a great night by translating where she could. The beer flowed, as it seemed Senba was renowned for her love of the amber liquid, and a young looking man by the name of Yoshihiro Shibahara regaled us all night (we later found out he was 52!).

As it turned out, Senba's late husband was quite the photographer. I found albums dating from the early seventies through to the nineties. Ordinarily this wouldn't be all that exciting, but it seems he shared the same passion I have for the normal; photos of them and their friends, unstaged and natural. If it weren't for the fashion they could have been taken that day. I spent hours browsing.

Day 3: Erimo to Obihiro - 126.75km
 
We awoke to blue sky, hazy, but blue. Winds were not as strong as we'd expected so after a more traditional breakfast containing a few mysterious substances (but no seafood on Tom's request) we were seen off with home-made rice balls and a fanfare to rival the Mardi Gras. As we rode off into the distance we could see Selba, Yoshihiro and a handful of other guests still standing in the middle of the road screaming and waving their huge flags, wishing us well on our journey, which began into a headwind.....
 
We would be following what was known locally as the 'Golden Road' due to the amount of money that had been poured into it, soon enough we figured out why. The first 50km of the day were made up of roads connecting primitive fishing villages, mostly busy farming seaweed due to the weather on the day, and winding along the rocky coastline. What was amazing was the modernity of these roads and the fact that we were riding through tunnels that were often as long as 5km! Without such quality roads and protection from the elements we may have suffered a far longer day but instead found ourselves heading inland sooner than we'd estimated.

Before we knew it we were stripping layers of clothes, eating in bakeries and riding through farmland and forest, a far cry from being stuck in the Erimo hostel as we had predicted. It was a gamble to make the 130km run for Obihiro but it had well and truly paid off, with the headwinds of earlier turning to tail winds and us finding shelter from the coastal weather by riding inland.
 
We reached Obihiro and booked a room across from the train station where we experienced more confusion as to why we would want to keep our bikes safe and indoors, as they were only bikes! After the check in girl understood our strange concerns our bikes we kept safe and sound within metres of the check in counter, first class storage.
 
One of the bigger towns on Hokkaido, we roamed for quite some time before devouring a late lunch and roaming a real Japanese shopping centre. Then it was time for dinner, where Tomo (the head waiter) assisted us to order in broken English and with hand written notes from other staff who knew bits and pieces.

I'm still alive, have just been busy in Hokkaido; on my bike, eating drinking and taking it all in. Pictures and epic story coming soon......