August 10th, 2011 | categorizilation: all categories,Japan,Post-2008
We woke to rain today. It would have been a welcome change had it not been for the temperatures. That is to say, despite the rain, it was still muggy. The insects seemed to be liking it however, and this particularly curious creature captured our attention.
Curious creatures aside, after a breakfast of breads and cereal, we careened down the hill to begin our ride to Lake Toya.
The countryside scenery really is lovely here. I wouldn’t call today’s scenery spectacular, but definitely lovely. Flowers, green fields, gentle ups and downs.
Just outside of the small town of Rutsutsu, the troupe decided to split up into two groups. The boys and the girls. The boys (Rowland and I) wanted to take a side road which, on the map, connected with the main road we were on travelling towards Lake Toya. Regardless of what road we were to take, we all got drenched. The skies opened soon after we parted ways into our two groups, and it rained for a good solid hour. Rowland and I enjoyed our side road, however. A steep climb up to a small pass connected us with a gravel road which would take us back down to the main road leading to the lake.
Rowland was on an old-school 12-speed Miyata bike with skinny tires. I was on the mighty Surly Karate Monkey. As a result, Rowland’s ride down the gravel road was bumpy and out of control. My ride was plush and smooth. A long tour on gravel roads would be a very pleasant experience on the big 29-inch wheels of the Karate Monkey, me thinks. In fact, even the odd corrugations in the gravel did not both me much on the big-wheeled mountain bike. Coupled with a set of touring handlebars, the bike was a real pleasure to ride. I would say that the single speed gearing of the Karate Monkey (33t at the front + 17t at the back + Truativ Firex 1.1 + 29-inch wheels = 56.5 gear inches) is near perfect for all-round cycling. Even with a load on the bike. So far on the tour, I have not come across any situation when I had to stop and push the bike, but so far I have not had to cycle up steep gravel/side roads…I think that could be a situation where the single speed proves fatal on a bicycle tour. In other words, while gears would be the obvious preferred choice (I have a Shimano Alfine 8-speed internal gear hub on order), this particular single speed setup on the Karate Monkey is great for day-to-day riding and on-road cycle touring. It bears mention that I do use SPD pedals. I think the situation could be different if I was not clipped in and using decent stiff soled cycle shoes. That is to say, on the uphills, I have spent most of my time standing up. Essentially spending up to three hours on a glorified stepping machine (albeit with much more interesting scenery than in a stuffy gym). This is doable though.
The downhill on the gravel road was over far too soon, and in no time Rowland and I were re-united with the ladies on the shores of Lake Toya. The Mizu no eki local produce shop sold us bowls of steaming noodles in soup, and I bought some corn which was so sweet, it could be eaten raw (peeling it first is always tastier).
Due to our early start and short distance (about 25km), we arrived at Lake Toya at around 10am. Not feeling like we had done enough exercise for the copious amounts of delicious foods we were consuming on this trip (which was becoming increasingly more like an eating tour punctuated by short spurts of cycling), a quick blat around the lake to the township on the other side was proposed and accepted by all.
We got rained on a couple more times during the 3 hour excursion (Lake Toya township is a dump, by the way;Â decrepit old abandoned hotels and the main street is open to all traffic, including long-haul trucks), but enjoyed the trip.
Route Map – the boys’ route is the bit to the right of the main road
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August 9th, 2011 | categorizilation: all categories,Japan,Post-2008
Just next to the Yomoto Onsen camping ground is the Yukichichibu hotspring. You’d not want to soak in this one…
After wandering around the boiling pond, trying not to breathe too much of the sulfur gasses in, we were back into downhill mode for a half hour or so on the typically silky smooth roads.
The idea for today was to meet up with Saoka, Haidee’s friend from Sapporo. This would increaase our merry troupe to five happy cyclists. Saoka is joining us for three days of cycling, and we met her at the Milk Factory just out of Niseko. Hokkaido in general has a strong agricultural brand, whereby any produce from Hokkaido is considered natural and delicious (which it is). This includes dairy products. In any case, the Milk Factory is all about milk products. Icecream, custards, eclairs…
We met up with Saoka at 10:30am, and continued on our merry way, Rowland still cycling in bare feet due to annoying blisters.
The weather was probably the hottest today it has been so far. We made a leisurely stop at the Niseko View Plaza, and everyone was feeling effects of exhaustion. Especially so was Rowland. He had a sore stomach and cramps, presumably due to the same bug that Alicia was suffering from a few days earlier. He seemed more put out that he was not able to stomach the delicious foods on offer at the plaza.
Lunch over, and Saoka suggested that we head for a small swimming hole she knew about on a friend’s farm. She had once done WOOFing on the farm. A couple of friendly dogs followed us down the gravel road to a stream so frigid not even Rowland was keen to get entirely into the water.
From the swimming hole it was only a short ride to our camping spot in the foothills of Mt. Yotei. The camping ground is the Mt. Yotei Nature Park Camping Ground. It has more or less exactly the same facilities as last night’s free camping ground, but costs about 6ooyen (about US$5) each a night. Alicia was happy, however, to find a few water sources to cool off with on the way up to the camp ground.
The camping ground itself was quite new. We set up our tents with next to the outdoor kitchen area, and quickly transformed the area into our own personal kitchen/laundry.
Whether it was just due to the passing of time, the passing of something else, or the Chinese medicine we bought earlier in the day, Alicia and Rowland were starting to feel better today. It should be a great remainder of a trip.
Route Map
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August 8th, 2011 | categorizilation: all categories,Japan,Post-2008
Once again we were up at daybreak today, just like yesterday; 4:15am and keen to get on the road to beat the heat. As usual, however, we started the day with breakfast and some decent coffee.
The coast along this portion of the Shakotan coast was perhaps the most spectacular. A beautiful new road, spanning gorges with bridges, cut its way around the precipitous cliffs, with small bays here and there bathed in the morning light.
Iwanai City was where we left the coast for good. The scenery on the coast had been improving the last few days, but we were glad to leave the coast for more cooler higher altitudes and greener scenery. We arrived in Iwanai at around 9 o’clock, so we hung around the city park for the best part of an hour, lounging in the shade of trees, and eating ice-creams. Rowland and Alicia were especially fond of the vast selection of ice-creams available in convenience stores here in Japan, most at at least half the price of ice-creams in New Zealand.
We stocked up on food in Iwanai before taking on the climb up to Naganuma, a pass which would connect us with the Niseko region in Hokkaido; a popular winter resort town. Perhaps we underestimated the climb. It was a killer. The lower regions were quite manageable, but things got much tougher the higher we went.
It was not so much the gradient which killed us. It was the heat. With little shade, we all quickly ran out of water. After almost three hours of slogging uphill (and me quite convinced that single-speed touring is not entirely practical), Rowland (who was powering ahead) came across a delicious waterfall. We needed no encouragement to indulge in its cool watery delights.
This revived us for the somewhat anti-climactic remaining 900m along the road to the top of the pass, where we scoffed down water and a selection of sweet local snacks. They did not last long. On the left are sweet bean paste (azuki)-filled donut balls, and on the right is a chestnut flavoured azuki cake.
Somehow, we managed to find the energy for a 40 minute return walk from the road-pass to a small mountain lake, Naganuma Lake.
Hokkaido is home to a variety of wildlife, including brown bears (higuma in Japanese). Brown bears are not common, but we did see a curious fox on our way over the last 200m or so along the road to the actual pass summit. This fox was not particularly afraid of humans, a sure sign of foxes being fed by tourists in their cars. Haidee mentioned that foxes can be a real nuisance in the Niseko area (she used to work around this area), actually running towards approaching cars expecting food, and being injured as a result.
The final 10km or so today was pure bliss. A blisteringly fast downhill to our campsite next to the Yunomoto Onsen (Japanese spa).
Rowland braved the cultural barrier and came for a soak in the onsen with me. For the uninitiated, this can be a daunting ask. The spas are separate-gender, but everyone is naked. You strip off in the changing room, wash down in the communal wash area, and soak in the scalding natural hot springs. Yunomoto Onsen is a particularly good onsen however. It has numerous outdoor rotenburo (outdoor spas) with great views over the surrounding valleys.
We arrived at the campsite (a free campsite run by the local council) relatively early (around 2pm), so we had plenty of time to relax and cook dinner. Rowland has borrowed my copy of Walking the Amazon (which I have not read yet), and has taken every opportunity available to keep working at devouring the book before they leave in a week’s time.
August 7th, 2011 | categorizilation: all categories,Japan,Post-2008
Another spectacular day greeted us this morning as we got up at the crack of dawn. The past two days saw us getting on the road far too late, and all of us suffering in the heat because of it. Today would be different. We were motivated to get onto the road by 6:30am at the latest; two hours after daybreak.
We were on the road at 6:30am, and loving it. First thing was a stiff 30 minute climb. But what goes up must come down. The road we were on got the climbing well and truly over and done with within about a few kms, and the following 10km or so was a beautiful gradual downhill through lush fields and forests.
This road cut across a small section of the Shakotan Peninsula. When we got back to the coast on the other side of the peninsula we found much less traffic than previous days, and a more pleasant coastal scenery. Blue skies and blue waters.
The coastal scenery was punctuated once again by tunnels. Some as long as 2km. They were in much better condition than some on previous days, however, most with wide sidewalks.
For lunch, we had a selection of breads and eggs left over from yesterday. We found a nice looking boat ramp down to the waters edge where we stopped for a bite to eat. This is where we really got to know the true annoyance of abu bees (horseflies). They would not let us alone for even a moment, so we took to the water, trying to escape. ‘Twas a great way to cool off too 
Haidee, relatively new to cycle touring (as were Rowland and Alicia), seems to have taken to the mode of transport well, looking stunning as ever even after three days cycling without a proper shower. She has, however, developed a niggling sore shoulder on her right side, which is a little bothersome. Perhaps a pannier weight imbalance?
The four of us arrived at our final destination for the day at around 1pm. Check-in to the campground (Kamoenai Campground) was from 2pm, and there was absolutely no getting in early (even though there were no other guests). But we made the most of the time by searching out a secret swimming spot; a frigidly cold mountain stream.
When we did get let into the campsite, we set up quickly and set about cooking dinner; curry and rice. Eaten while trying to keep the buzzing abu at bay.
August 6th, 2011 | categorizilation: all categories,Japan,Post-2008
Waking up to a beautiful morning on the beach in front of the kayak place this morning was magic. Following a quick breakfast, we were onto the kayaks for 3 hours of very relaxed paddling around the coast. The tour guides were not quite sure what to do when Rowland and Alicia decided it was time to cool off by jumping into the ocean…
Following the kayak tour (which ended at around 12 noon; the height of the heat of the day), we set off on the bikes towards Bikuni, a short 20km cycle away. Lunch was had at a local rider’s house, accommodation for cyclists and motorcyclists. They must be accustomed to cyclists’ Â appetites, because the portions were massive.
The heat made the following 20km a real challenge. There was one big hill in the way. If I had any doubts about getting a geared hub for my bike (it is still set up as a single speed), this hill swept those away. I was standing the whole way up, essentially on a stepping machine for about an hour. Things were tougher for Alicia, however. Rowland and Alicia had just come from a week in Indonesia, and Alicia had picked up a tourist…some sort of stomach bug, which was sapping her strength and making the whole experience rather trying.
Tunnels continued along our way to Bikuni, some with wide walkways, some without.
All in all, we arrived in Bikuni quite disheartened and dejected. We were hoping for beautiful empty beaches and wondrous coastline, but what we got was lots of traffic and congested campgrounds. The likely culprit was the timing of our trip. Summer holidays coupled with a weekend meant that campgrounds were full of noisy Sapporo City residents enjoying the beaches with their BBQs and loads of beer. We checked out three campgrounds (all free) before reluctantly settling on a steep, stony beach away from the maddening crowds.
The site ended up being great, however. Quiet, toilets nearby, and a fresh water spring (what looked to be that, in any case). After a nice meal of potatoes and eggs (the guys at the Blue Holic gave us 10 fresh eggs), we were quite happy to be sitting on the shore listening to the quiet lapping of waves. The water was even tempting enough for a couple of the troupe to go for a swim.
August 5th, 2011 | categorizilation: all categories,Japan,Post-2008
The relatives are here. Rowland is Haidee’s (my wife’s) brother, and Alicia is his wife.
They are here with us in Hokkaido (the northern most island of Japan) for a week and a half. Due to the fact that Haidee and I’s apartment is about the size of a small shoe box, we decided that instead of hanging around big-city Sapporo, a bike tour around the Shiribeshi area of southern Hokkaido would be much more conducive to a good time together.
Haidee and I have our own bikes; Haidee’s is a 2011 Trek FX 7.5 WSD, and mine is a 2011 Surly Karate Monkey (thanks to Surly for hooking me up with one at cost). For Rowland and Alicia, we borrowed a couple of bikes from Leon at Hokkaido Adventures. All his standard rental bikes were hired out for the time we needed them, so he gave us his two back-up bikes for next to nothing, in exchange for me sprucing them up a little. A couple of days of enjoyable bike maintenance resulted in a couple of great bikes for the trip.
Today, the first day of the bike tour began with the inevitable last-minute packing chaos, our small apartment straining to contain the madness.
It all came together in the end, however, and the merry troupe was ready to leave at 10:30am. Which is actually about midday in any other sane society’s reckoning. The sun rises at 4am in Hokkaido in the summer, and for some unknown reason, nobody has thought of instigating any form of summer time. And even though Hokkaido gets up to 6m of snow in the winter, and 20 degrees below zero (Celsius) in the colder months, the noon-day sun in Hokkaido is as hot as it gets. 31 degrees was forecast for the day we left.
Most of today was spent stopping and starting through Sapporo and Otaru Cites, trying to get out of the massive urban sprawl.
The city cycling was punctuated with short stops at eateries (eating was to become somewhat of a theme during the trip). Lunch was had at a dingy ramen (noodles in soup) eatery; a first for Rowland and Alicia.
Our destination for the day was the beach in front of the kayak tour place called Blue Holic just out of the small settlement of Shioya (about 6km past Otaru on Route 5). The route was further punctuated by long tunnels and heat.
Due to the late start, we finally arrived at the beach in the heat of the day. We have a kayak tour booked with Blue Holic for tomorrow morning, and they allowed us to camp on the beach in front of their place.
Route Map for the day
August 3rd, 2011 | categorizilation: all categories,Arrival Home,Italy,Post-2008
In January this year, Andrea Brena, a student from Italy, sent me a sizable list of questions for me to answer as part of a research project he was working on. Before the answers get lost in my inbox forever, here they are.
INTERVIEW
What’s your name?
Robert John Thomson, but people call me Rob.
Where do you come from?
I grew up in Invercargill, New Zealand. Small town at the southern-most tip of New Zealand. Small-town atmosphere, cold, nothing to do except explore the outdoors or drink copious amounts of alcohol; I preferred the former.
When did you start to take long trips?
I have only ever done one long trip. From July 2006 till November 2008. Before then, the longest trip I had ever done was a week long, with a bunch of friends, on mountain bikes, in the middle of nowhere in the South Island of New Zealand.
How did you end up travelling by longboard?
From July 2006 till April 2007, I was cycling on a bicycle from Japan to England. In Tashkent, Uzbekistan, I was wandering around the city visiting different embassies, to apply for visas for onward travel (Central Asia is a bureaucratic nightmare). At that time, I thought that it would be convenient if I had a skateboard on which to quickly move around town (I could take it on public transport etc etc). This got me to thinking about actually travelling between cities on a longboard. A quick web search showed that Dave Cornthwaite (www.davecornthwaite.com) was skating across Australia with a support crew. From there, the seed was planted in my mind. I wanted to do the same, but with no support crew; solo and unsupported. 5 months after Tashkent, I finally arrived in Switzerland, and then at that point decided, as a test, to skate the rest of the way to England. So I sent my bike home to New Zealand, and bought a longboard and a backpack. The 1500km skate from Switzerland to England was a success, and I decided to carry on. I enjoyed the challenge (not only physically but also intellectually ? i.e., how can I make my luggage as lightweight as possible, but still be self-sufficient) and novelty of it. Later on in the trip, the lure of being able to achieve and extend a Guinness World Record was a large motivating factor; it made me feel like I was really doing something on the cusp of human endurance and capability.
Would you tell the most beuatiful experience you had being helped by somebody?
http://14degrees.org/en/?p=865
Which role do people that you met on your way play in your trips?
They are a window into the true nature of the place where I am travelling. You can only get a very surface view of what life is like in any particular location just by looking at the sights as you whizz by on a bus, train, or in my case, a bicycle or skateboard. Most often, the sights you see in the tourist areas or on the outside of people’s homes are a polished presentation of an image people want to present, rather than a true reflection of what they really are, or what their life is really like. Of course, even when a person invites you in to stay, they are also presenting a certain version of themselves to you, the traveller; they are often trying to create a good impression of themselves or their country. But still, you do get to see a different side of your destination when seen through the window of a person’s private life; i.e., home. For example Keith and Mary – http://14degrees.org/en/?p=583 ? showed me a reality of ‘American life’ that was a far cry from the affluence we see on mainstream American television media.
Do you think that the generosity that you met in your travels was because you were travelling in a humble, generous way?
Yes. Definitely. Just the fact that I was on a bicycle or skateboard garnered, it seemed, instant respect and affability. And I can relate to that. The stereotype of criminals is that they will do the least effort for the largest gain (even if that ‘least effort’ entails risk). What I was doing required a herculean effort, with very little gain (at least monetarily), and therefore, at least by that definition, I probably certainly did not come across as a criminal.
Can curiosity be the reason why they help you?
For sure. Someone skating with a large backpack along a highway is not something you see every day. And then once people heard that I was from New Zealand, that was like a final seal of approval: this guy is probably going to be interesting. People love something out of the ordinary (that’s why there’s so much sensational stuff on TV; it sells). And a real live curiosity is always going to be more interesting that TV.
Are people aware of the reasons that move you to this experience? Do you think this could be a factor that brings them towards you or to help you?
For people who helped me in the US, I would just tell them that I was doing it for the adventure of it. I think that most people that invited me in to stay or helped me out understood that concept. As for people who invited me in in developing countries (Central Asia, China etc), I think it was more for the novelty/curiosity factor. Like the time I was invited in in Uzbekistan (http://14degrees.org/en/?p=196) and in China (http://14degrees.org/en/?p=689 and http://14degrees.org/en/?p=690). In the Uzbekistan scenario, I was invited in to stay, and half of the neighbourhood came to visit, and we all had a huge meal together, talking and exchanging stories of life in our respective countries. The same in China. In the US, however, I felt that people were more motivated by their belief in what I was doing.
Is it because people see how much you believe in what you are doing that make them help you?
See above.
Is it because you’re showing that you’re taking in everything (good and bad) of their environment and nothing can stop you?
I think this is a factor, for sure. A human powered traveller is not taking the easy route, and I think people see that.
Are more people helping you on the road without knowing your story or people that know about you from media, like internet, tv, radio and press?
I think only one to two people I met along the road had heard of me before I arrived. A woman who saw me in the news paper invited me to a lunch with a scout group (http://14degrees.org/en/?p=487) and Patrick, who heard me on the radio (http://14degrees.org/en/?p=506). The point is, that most people who helped me along the way had no third-party evidence that I was who I said I was. Some contacts were made through people I had met previously (such as one person calling a friend further along the route).
How many people that helped you ask you money for a meal or any kind of service they gave to you?
None. Except once. In a town called Karakol in Kyrgyzstan. I asked a local for directions to a local hostel, and he said ‘I will tell you if you give me money.’ I was tired and irritable, and refused, and just carried on and found the place by myself (http://14degrees.org/en/?p=140).
Did you ever offer anything to them?
No. I gave the family in Uzbekistan 100RMB (Chinese money; about 10 Euro) as a souvenir, but even that felt strange. That is to say, it felt like an insult to their hospitality to offer money. For me this is a bit of a moral dilemma. You see, the less money I part with on a trip, the longer I can travel for. My 2.5 year journey cost about US$15,000. That is very cheap living. And what’s more, that US$15,000 was my life savings. I didn’t have any extra. So really, in a way, I didn’t have any money to spare, and every chance I had to save money was helpful. But then again, travelling itself is an absolute luxury. As a (relatively) rich Westerner I had a choice to travel. Most of those people I stayed with in developing countries will never have the opportunity to have even close to US$15,000 in savings. I wonder how many of them will earn that much gross income in their entire lives, even. This is something I struggled with, and have come to an awkward compromise where I figure that the value of my journey is in the fact that many people followed my journey on my blog, and learned something new about the world and humanity.
Have you noticed if their kind attitude is just towards you or also towards people who live around them?
I definitely got preferential treatment. But this is understandable. I found that when I met a stranger meet under jovial and novel circumstances, both parties (me and the stranger) presented only the very best parts of ourselves to each other. This is understandable. People want to be thought of as nice and good and likeable. As people get to know each other better, a more realistic vision of each other forms. They get to know the good and the bad. Life becomes…normal. And not every day can be a celebration, which is what it felt like when I was invited into someone’s home. A celebration for the intrepid explorer. Fun, novel, a hero (in that I was doing something that many people wish they could do).
Would you do the same, seeing a foreigner on the street and bring him to the home of your family?
When it comes to family, it becomes more complicated. Through my experiences, I personally have become very comfortable with trusting strangers. To the extent that if I saw a person cycling or on some kind of an adventure, and hearing something about their story, I would probably invite them to stay or offer some kind of assistance. My wife, however, is more cautious, which is great; it creates balance, some would say. So I think that my journey has made me more trusting. Some might say recklessly trusting, but I think that how you view trust is dependent on many things; your upbringing, experiences, personality etc etc.
Have your physical conditions (bad or good, in need or not) had an effect on the generousity ofthe people who helped you?
I think that some people understand that a young person on an adventure is always going to appreciate some support, so they are inclined to help. There are not many millionaire 25 year-olds cycling or skateboarding around the world. Usually they have given up the security of a job and income for the pursuit of adventure and travel. So by default, they are poor. In terms of actual sickness or tiredness, I think the family that let me stay with them in Texas appreciated that I needed rest (http://14degrees.org/en/?p=863), so I ended up staying about 5 days with them. I have, however, been taken advantage of when I was sick. It was in Turkmenistan, and I was staying at a cheap hotel and I was very sick. I had a 40 degree fever. I had to change some money to buy some food and medicine, so the hotel staff changed it for me from USD to Turkmen money. It was not until the next day when I had left, I realised that they had short-changed me.
Is your way of travelling attracting people to come towards you?
Yes. Like I said above, it is the novelty factor, I think.
How do you see the kindness of people? What is your view of it?
My personal philosophy is that the kindness I experienced is the way that we are supposed to be. It is the way we were born, in a way. But over a life time of watching and reading news that, by necessity of the medium, reports only the sensational and scary, we end up believing that the world is a place not to be trusted. We end up having a default setting in our brain that says that all strangers are guilty criminals until proven otherwise. The people who showed kindness to me are beautiful examples of what happens when we choose to believe that the narrative portrayed in mass media is not intended to be a narrative that says ‘this is what humans are’. We need to realise that it is a narrative that shows a part of human nature. A part that is, in my view, a very miniscule one.
