Below is a recollection of my experience urban-through-hiking from Tokyo to Kyoto, roughly along the Old Tokaido Road that the modern Shinkansen rail line closely follows today. Since this section will contain excerpts from my actual travel journal, it’s going to be fairly wordy so if you don’t have time or interest in these things, just keep scrolling to view the photos and route I took.
A quick introduction is probably needed on how this trip even became an idea. I was halfway through my Working Holiday in Japan, and for the rest of the time there I wanted to attempt something I wouldn't dare do elsewhere. First to come to mind was hitching across the country, because there's always this stigma back home that hitchhiking is a dangerous activity, both for the hiker and the driver. But, I ruled that out since I still had 5 months left on the visa and hitchhiking, if done smoothly, will be very quick. I shared my dilemma with my sharehouse-mate, and he mentioned that his Japanese language teacher and his teacher both walked their way from Tokyo to Kyoto, a distance of roughly 500km. For the North Americans, it's the distance from Vancouver (the better, Canadian one) to Portland. Immediately, a light bulb lit up and I decided right on the spot that that's gonna be my thing.
For the next few days, I practiced walking with a small pack for several hours and collected and weighed all my gear that I planned on bringing with me. You may think it's kind of ridiculous, but cutting a few grams here and there can make the pack a whole kilogram lighter, though you'll have to decide what to keep. Without further delay, I present to you my most exciting trip to date, and the labour of love that is this website.
Note: the black line denotes where I walked and the teal, where I took motorized transportation. Click outside of picture popups to close them.
Historically, the Tokaido started off at Nihonbashi in central Tokyo, but I decided to start at my friends’ place where I couchsurfed at the time, in Inagi to the west. From Inagi to Yokohama sits the Tama hills, and that was my first climb of the trip. With a 12kg pack on my back under a blazing sun, it was quite the way to start the trip hiking up through Yomiuri Land. I knew the Tokyo cityscape changes wildly depending on the region, but I had yet to see suburbia that reminded me of home in Vancouver, complete with tree-lined avenues and cul-de-sacs. For most of my time up till then I lived in Nishiarai, a proper Shitamachi town bordering Saitama which is full of cramped streets with even more cramped houses that sit on them. My cycling adventures also brought me to similar areas, so seeing the hilly streets with Western-style houses was certainly different than what I was used to. Sadly, I didn't come across any shotengai shopping districts around these areas, so I didn't get to have my favourite snack-on-the-go: discount croquettes.
Halfway through, I felt hotspots on both my feet which I later found to be blisters in the making. Not to be deterred, I trekked on until the sky started to dim. As I didn’t want to arrive at my hostel too late, I had to call it in and took a short bus ride to Yokohama. Getting off at Yokohama Station and finding my bearings, I quickly navigated to Guesthouse Futareno which happened to be my first-ever hostel stay. Its owner Kenta and his wife renovated the old Showa-period house situated in a small alley with a bunch of friends, because he "loved chatting, meeting new people, and travelling" and what better way to bring that all together than to start a hostel? It was a lively night, with the owners’ friends hosting a wacky “spam party” involving dishes of everything-spam that anyone can join in on. I was in the company of another Tokaido traveller — Jesse, a baker from Malaysia who bike-camped his way from Kyoto. Jokingly, he called me nuts and wished me fun times on the road. At the time, I wasn’t too sure what I’ve gotten myself into, since I’ve never even properly hiked before.
The morning started with Jesse declaring that he must try koppepan before he leaves and Kenta highly recommended he try this one shop's cream-filled variation from around the corner. I waited for a few minutes for him to return since I wanted an European-style baker's opinion on the sweet fluffy bread of Japan. His sheepish laughter gave away his position on the matter. I said my farewells with both of them before starting the day's trek. With my mind knowing what to expect from yesterday's experience, I started to notice a lot more details about my surroundings. Central Yokohama is, of course, very similar to any big Tokyo city, but as I moved further away into the edges of the city, the modern concrete started to crumble away to reveal its Shitamachi roots. Heading southwest to Kamakura, it's fascinating to see the buildings shrink, the people disperse, and the train stations stretch further apart. Before long, the city was an hour behind and in front were suburbs and at times, even a little rural which isn't something I expected to see. Travelling like this really highlights just how different 5km can be. And many times, the walk can be very monotonous and that's when something rather peculiar popped up in my head.
In the first 2 hours into the walk, I had long conversations with myself — a lot of self-exploring if you will. Topics like what is the goal behind this trip, or plans for a career path, or what would happen if I can't find a washroom in time or... But slowly and surely, I ran out of things to think about. This is the peculiar part. I've tried meditation but it never did catch on for me, too fidgety for it, but I'm pretty sure this is what it feels like. By this I mean absolute silence in your head and being hyper-aware of your surroundings. Hearing cars hum, birds chirp, wind whistle. Smelling the sea waft over as I neared the shore, that kind of thing. Then the land got hilly and soon the Shonan Monorail appeared in sight, just in time because it was getting dark and I knew I was close to my accommodation for the night.
Kamakura Guesthouse is a traditional hostel with fire pits in the common area and futons on tatami mats in the dorms. Sodachi was the one who greeted me and showed me around. He's originally from Saitama and enjoys working in guesthouses as he loves meeting people from all over the world. A common theme with all the hosts and hostel workers, as you'll find out if you keep reading on. Usshi is the bespectacled former nurse who quit his profession and travelled around for a year, still on a journey to find the thing he eventually wants to do. At that time, he was helping out in the guesthouse for accommodation and meals and counts this as a new experience.
Since I've yet to visit the Great Buddha of Kamakura, I decided in the morning I'd rent a bike and check it out. Let's just say, walking is a snail's pace compared to the jet-speed bicycle. Having studied metallurgy, I was curious how they casted the giant Buddha and to my surprise, you could venture into the hollow statue to study it up close for a small fee. With my mission accomplished, I quickly biked back to the hostel and started my walk at Daibutsumae, another touristy temple area. Loitering around the main shopping street for a bit, I then headed straight for the Shonan coast, ignoring the main Tokaido road. Following the Enoshima Dentetsu I enjoyed the view of the coast and the whole surfer-vibe of the area. In the late afternoon I arrived at Enoshima and at first, I wanted to skip it since I may have to keep walking after sundown, but decided it would be a waste to not see the island. I spent 1.5 hours there and didn't regret it one bit. It did get a little awkward since I got stares for having my trekking poles out, but it didn't matter, I'd do just about anything to get some weight off my knees. Back on the road to Hiratsuka, the skies turned dark really quickly as I navigated through a residential area.
In the entire trip I think it was at this point that I can honestly say was the most dangerous situation I've been in. So, while zigzagging through the streets, I came upon a pitch-dark road that I thought may be a shortcut. This being Japan, I had no worries at all walking through it, just that I didn't know if it actually led to the other side. I checked my phone a bit on Google Maps while looking up and down the road and just then, a school-uniformed girl with a deeply harsh, suspecting look rode past on her bicycle, straight into the darkness. Now I know I looked a tad dubious with a straw hat, big pack, and trekking poles. Not wanting any misunderstanding, I waited 5 minutes or so before I too took this inky-black shortcut. To my surprise and terror, the same girl was stopped on her bicycle at the end of the road with her phone to her cheek. She can't...can't possibly be calling the cops on me, right? Knowing I'd probably cause more harm than good if I spoke up or slowed down my pace, I continued on at the same speed without looking back. I wouldn't have been in trouble if I did get "caught" but I'm not really good with confrontations, and with the police at that. A few months prior to that I got hit by a van while on my bike, and trying to tell my side of the story to the police wasn't exactly a fun experience, so I'd rather avoid that if at all possible.
Anyway, I had a booking on Airbnb with Yu, a construction worker living in Chigasaki. That night only costed me ¥1000 so I had zero expectations going in, but dang was it dirty. Yu was super nice though. He's saving up to travel and at the time, applying to volunteer in Bolivia. His home is a 1K sized apartment and he offered his bed to me while he slept on the floor. A bit hesitant to take him up on his offer, but I did anyway, because honestly...I didn't want to sleep on that floor. We did talk a bit about travelling and his English studies but since he works early, we had to cut it short. In that short conversation I can tell he's a really hard working guy, I hope he did get to do some volunteer work overseas!
Amazing day, but not so amazing for a long trek with cloudless skies and a full sun bearing down on you. My Airbnb stay was quite a ways from the main Tokaido road but no worries, as there's always my trusty navigator Google maps guiding me. Except this time around, the directions I was fed with wasn't as optimal as expected. You see, there exists a series of hills between where I stayed at and where I needed to go, and this day proved to be one where I genuinely felt I was a bit lost even with a GPS-enabled phone. A bit sad, I know. Of course when I started the trek I didn't have an inkling of an idea, and a little bit of rural roads hadn't stopped me yet. So, being overly optimistic I trod along. 30 minutes in, the residential area started disappearing, and in its wake was greenery. That became a bit alarming because I was sure the general area is still suburban. I started the day quite late at 10AM and backtracking was not an option, so onwards it is.
My optimism faded as the roads turned quieter, bushes overgrown onto the pavement and the sidewalk disappeared. That's when I finally felt, oh man, I made a huge mistake by not turning back early. Now's definitely not the time to turn around. Instead I buckled down and kept walking through farmlands that had not a single soul in sight. It would've been nice to see any soul, ghostly or lively, to ask for directions, but alas. No buildings to be seen, not even traffic lights so I knew I was deep in the mountains. Deep in doodoo. There was a point where upon cresting a hill, I was greeted by a road lined with trees that continued as far as the eye could see. Daylight was not coming back and I decided — after a 5 minute break to clear my mind — that I had to hustle or else I'd still be in the middle of nowhere by nightfall. Venturing into more hilly, deadly-silent roads I came upon some sign of civilization: golf courses! If anything, I could try my luck and hitch a ride off a friendly golfer but it's in my nature to not bug anyone if possible, so I got the Google out and plotted my route to the nearest bus stop. Which was still at least an hour's walk away but that's a non-issue now.
Feeling good, I snacked on almonds (because that's the only food I had on me) and quickly arrived at the bus stop. It was such a relief seeing the bus arriving and taking it to the nearest train station by the coast. Ninomiya, the town at the end of the bus ride was forgotten by time and full of shuttered shops with faded signs. With not much to see, if I just kept following the coast where the train line is, even if I walked until it got dark, I could always hop on the train to my destination of the day — Hakone. As much as I wanted to continue, walking up to Hakone required at least another 2 hours and by then it would've been well into the night, so I took the train. Guesthouse Azito welcomed me that night, and their capsule bunks with double beds was just heavenly after a day like this.
I've read that the Hakone hike is one of the toughest on the Tokaido, and that seems to echo my experience. After gulping down a big breakfast of oats, almonds and a banana, I asked if I could store my pack at the front desk and began my hike with my trusty trekking poles. Another great sunny, humid day but I'd take that over a rainy one. The route today's a bit different since it actually is part of the Old Tokaido, complete with stone-paved paths which I found rather tiring to traverse over. There was a lot of hill-climbing through footpaths and along paved roads, which were mostly empty of hikers. It took me half the day to conquer the hills and stairs that the Hakone Tokaido threw at me, but at last I arrived at the oldest, continually-operated teahouse on the Tokaido: Amazake Chaya. It is, of course, a traditional building with hard packed dirt for floors and a myriad of Japanese snacks on the menu. After a quick glance of the menu items I ordered the chikara "energy" mochi and had the waitress note down my name as "Lee". Now I'm totally not a Lee, but because no one's got the time to actually explain how to spell and read my actual name in Japanese, it's kind of the name I picked up. A tribute to my favourite high school teacher, probably.
A short while later, the owner of the teahouse brought over my mochi and started talking in English — very good English I might add. She addressed me as Mr. Lee, which I took the time to explain that I am, in fact, not Mr. Lee and why I called myself that. Kotoyo, as she introduced herself, laughed and complimented my name-swap, and hearing that I'm from Vancouver, shared that she studied in Seattle 30 years prior. She has a good command of her English but she had this nagging issue and asked me if I had the time to help her with it. Her issue was both hearing and saying words such as "ear" and "year". If you're a native English speaker it probably won't even register to you why this might be difficult, but the starting syllable for both words are actually very similar and if you tried to explain how to differentiate them, it gets quite hard. So for the next hour I helped her with this y/ear problem, going as far as drawing a diagram of how I shape my mouth and tongue when saying both words. I told her that for "year" she ought to form the starting syllable with how she would with ya/yu/yo of the Japanese alphabet. In the end she started to get it and rewarded me a bag of kinako mochi soft candy. Before I continued the final leg of my trek, she introduced me to her family and with my trekking poles in hand, away I went. The remaining hike to Lake Ashi was mostly a descent so I took my time to enjoy the scenery. Eventually I arrived at the lake, snapped a few photos and took a bus ride back to the guesthouse.
Since Azito was fully booked, I had to take the train to Odawara where I stayed the night at Plum Hostel. At first, I walked in circles because I couldn't locate the hostel. It turns out it's tucked inside an ordinary 4 storey apartment building. Hayato was the one running the hostel that day. He also spoke good English and upon finding out I was walking the Tokaido, he mentioned that he once walked from Taipei to Tainan, a distance of 300km and cheered me on.
The previous night I was invited by fellow hostel-stayer Hemant of India to sightsee Hakone. Hemant works in IT and was recently hired for a job in Japan. Before he officially starts his job, he had some free time and Hakone is close to Tokyo where he lives. He had already toured Hakone the day before but he liked it enough that he offered to show me around, which I accepted since I wasn't in a hurry anyway. This is what I love about loosely-planned trips and being flexible. You don't know who you'll meet or where you'll be, just that at the end of the day, you know it'll be a new experience.
Anyway, we did the classic Hakone loop: get on the bus from the train station to Lake Ashi, then take the pirate-themed ship across the lake to the ropeway where you'll be breathing in the rotten egg fumes that gets spewed out by the heat vents at the top of the mountain. At the tippy top of the ropeway sits a huge souvenir shop selling all things remotely related to Hakone, as well as a food court to feed hungry, money-spendy tourists such as myself. Feeling like a silly tourist that day, I just had to grab myself a bag of 5 — yes, that's five — eggs boiled in sulphur-rich Hakone spring water that turns the shells black. For ¥500; that's a buck for an egg. Taste aside (it was just plain eggs, how surprising), I wouldn't recommend it if you're going to eat them all by yourself. Actually, let me correct that: I don't recommend them at all. We ended the loop by taking the bus that stops by the glass museum and botanical gardens, which were both closed by the time we got there, so we just ended the day at the train station and said our goodbyes.
That night I stayed in Hakone again, but this time at K's House, a hostel with their very own outdoor onsen! I've been on one month trips to Japan on two separate occasions, and had been living in Tokyo for my Working Holiday stay but that night was my first time visiting an onsen. It's not a big onsen at all but luckily that night I had the entire outdoor baths to myself. Needless to say it was a great soak after days of walking and from then on, I was a fan of onsens.
The first day of May started off with a bus ride to Lake Ashi where my last trek ended off. I always start by checking the weather and seeing how that matches with the skies above me, and it wasn't looking too good. Large dark grey clumps while the forecasts said it was going to be a clear day. It was also very humid which quickly got my back all sticky. Well, not much I could do than to walk and see where that takes me. Soon after I started, I saw a hiker-couple ahead of me in plastic ponchos; not a good sign of what's to come.
An hour into the walk I came across a rest area and decided to go for a washroom break — because it's always smart to go before you actually need to — but it wasn't just me with the same thought. The rumbling skies joined in and drenched my plans for the day. The couple I saw earlier? Well, they paid no mind and continued on. It was the last I saw of them. On the other hand, I chickened out and rested my fresh legs in the cafeteria, with the plan of waiting out the then-developing thunderstorm. Not much of a plan but pure, hopeful optimism. My train of thought wasn't entirely hocus pocus, since mountains usually have their own microclimates with rapid changes throughout the day.
During this time, my Airbnb host Satomi messaged me asking where I was and finding out that I was in Hakone (I shared my live position in Google maps), said she was coincidentally nearby and that she could give me a ride later. Not travelling by foot wasn't the idea of this trip, but we'll see how things develop. With nothing else to do, I ordered a beef bowl even though I had breakfast 2 hours ago. Shortly into my meal the inky grey skies were swirling, absolutely dumping and then cracked, cutting out the power in the rest area. Good thing I had a beef bowl that I could then leisurely enjoy because I sure ain't going out there.
Luckily, Mother Nature wanted to continue watching my trek to Kyoto so she opened the curtains, revealing the blue within the grey once again. The weather maps indicated all clear skies ahead so I quickly finished my meal and hit the road. Before the trip, I loaded up a bunch of audiobooks into my classic touch-wheel iPod and I listened to "Neuromancer" that day. Hailed as the novel that introduced the world to the cyberpunk genre, I tried to get into it as much as possible but in the end, just couldn't follow the characters nor the plot. On the National Route 1, or the modern Tokaido, a message from Satomi notified that she was very near my position, so I sat down on the sidewalk overlooking Mt. Fuji and waited. Watching the cars zoom by, I suddenly heard a loud and cheery "Hey!" and I knew that was my host. I jogged up to meet Satomi in her Mitsubishi Outlander parked by the emergency stopping lane. Without delay she opened her rear trunk for my backpack but after thinking a second, the skies are clear and the view is stupendous, it would be silly to cut my day short, so I declined her invitation. At the foot of the mountains just before an Edo period stone path, an older gentleman called out to me, asking where I was from. He introduced himself as Ogoto, who was 64 years old that year. I told him my oft-repeated spiel about the trip I'm on and he then offered to do a history tour of that part of the Old Tokaido. We split ways near the train station, which I took to get to my Airbnb.
It was fairly late when I knocked on Satomi's door, and to my surprise her 8 year old daughter Anna welcomed me and invited me into the house. I was a bit shocked since she was very calm and wasn't suspicious of me at all, even if her mother told her about me. Everyone says this, that Japan is very safe. Maybe a little too safe if you ask me. Then, her older sister Narumi, who was 10 at the time, introduced herself and showed me around the house. The well-behaved Labu the cat and Lily the dog hung around as well. When the clock struck 9PM, Satomi returned and fed me yakisoba while we chatted about life in general. She wants to move to the States — California or Hawaii in particular — even though she's content here. Her reason for this was that she's getting too complacent, too bored of Japan because she's lived in this country forever. I immediately understood her since that was also why I went to Japan on a Working Holiday.
Waking up a bit later than usual, I made some sweet potato chicken curry (I packed some homemade blend of spices just for this) for breakfast and left the remaining pot for Satomi, which she shared with one of her clients. She's a massage therapist working from home. They both said it wasn't something they tasted before, though they liked it, which I'm always glad to hear. I overstayed as it was comfortable there and expected the road to Fuji being full of bland nothingness, so I really just wanted to delay that. I was right, and it's rather rare that happens. Quite a bummer really.
On that colourless road, I stopped by a home improvement store with a food court to rest the legs and to try out MOS Burger. I'm not big on fast food but I do know about MOS, and out of curiosity, ordered their rice bun burger. Hmm yeah, not a fan. For the price, I'd rather go to the usual beef bowl eatery. Back on the road, I realized I've been walking through the same scenery of farmlands/industrial complexes for hours on end. Finally got sick of it and headed straight for the shores. I was greeted with instant relief upon seeing the rocky shoreline. There was nothing there but the sound of waves coming in and out, which proved to be very soothing. Beats the kilometres and kilometres of warehouses, for sure. The walk from there to NASUBI Backpackers was done mostly in pitch darkness...well not entirely, because with the lower light pollution and moonlit night, I could still navigate just fine. Before arriving at NASUBI, I dropped by a nearby AEON Town mall for dinner. At first, I planned on enjoying a proper sit-down meal at a restaurant inside, but ended up grabbing a bento at the supermarket and downing it on a bench nearby. It must've looked incredibly awkward to people walking past but I hadn't a care about what people thought.
At NASUBI I was greeted by the owner who had a gentle smile the entire time I was there. He saw the small gash on my pinky knuckle, which I got by walking too close to the walls by the shore, and offered me bandaids. Inside the guesthouse was a group of rowdy travellers in the common area, all drinking beer and enjoying each others' company. Sobajima, a nickname coined by the group, is an engineer from Nagoya who shared his beer with everyone. Chris the Floridian moved to Osaka as a language teacher, now at a private school. He's got really good Japanese, having lived here for 6 years and counting, and only picked up the language from chatting in small izakayas. Mari, the cheery wife of the guesthouse owner. Next, a young Japanese guy probably in his late teens with good English, a Frenchman who's climbing Fuji, and an Indian biking from Osaka to Tokyo who joined up with Chris on the road. Lastly, a semiconductor engineer who rode from Yokkaichi. I mostly hung with Sobajima and Chris and due to the atmosphere, grabbed a beer as well but regretted it later (I don't drink at all). Most were cyclists or Fuji-hikers except for Sobajima, who motorcycle-toured here instead.
Once again the last to check out. Always a sad feeling, like getting left behind. First thing to do was to check out the Fuji station area. Many closed shops due to Golden Week but the atmosphere is what I describe as "crumbly". Again, a large strip of emptiness until I came upon a MaxValu supermarket, and that means lunch time! Had a bento and a quick nap before I got back on the road. Soon the landscape turned into one with a shoreline; always a welcome scene. Gradually, regular houses started to pop up with baskets of mikan oranges for sale, honour system. Sandwiched between two rows of houses with mikans for sale everywhere was something to behold. There was even a shop that only sold mikans, albeit different varietals. I've never seen so many different types of oranges in my life; didn't even know there were that many different kinds. Yes, my knowledge of the world at large is quite pitiful indeed. As the saying goes, "When in Rome..." so I dropped a ￥100 coin into a tin box, grabbed a bag of oranges, sat down and had two because I was thirsty. They turned out to be kind of sour.
Continuing on, I saw a quaint town emerge; Yui-machi the fishing town, famous for their tiny sakura ebi. And they just had their annual sakura ebi festival that morning that I just missed out on. Since I was there, I figured I'll try their famous product even though I just had some food a while ago. Glad I did though, because I've never had sakura ebi before and it was delicious. Rest of the way I was mostly walking between a tall wall and the highway and experienced another first: I walked while half asleep. It was that dull.
By nightfall, I was on a stretch of road occupied by rows and rows of manufacturing plants and shipping companies. After untangling myself from a cluster of cloverleaf interchanges of highway entrances and exits, I had the uncomfortable, slightly tingly urge to go for #1 and really scrambled to find somewhere to relief said urge. Just then, walking past a small park, I hoped to whatever gods were out there that night to show me the light to a public washroom. They did show me the light, to an unlit public washroom. Beggars can't be choosers, so I went in and did my business. While my beliefs are based on scientific formulae, I can't say I wasn't spooked using an unlit washroom. It felt wrong at the primal level. Afterall, the darkness hides a great deal of nasty beasties, and is why our cave-dwelling progenitors waved around fiery sticks.
At around 7-8PM I got to Shimizu and hunted around for a light meal, eventually choosing Saizeriya, the well-known family restaurant serving inauthentic Italian food. Not bad for the price though, better than McDonald's. Yusuke, my Airbnb host that night picked me up at the station. We didn't really go into any deep conversation and his place was quite pricey given the uncleanliness, not the best Airbnb experience. He did offer me some food in the morning though. During the drive to the station, he told me he works for the local newspaper.
Before I started the trip, I've been in contact with Daiki who is a fellow Tokaido-walker and a prolific Couchsurfing host. It's not a thing here in Japan, couchsurfing, so finding someone my age who's walked the same road I was walking was quite the needle in the haystack. There's not much to report since Shizuoka as a whole is just a lot of farms and sparsely populated towns with only a few cities in between. Wait, I just described every civilization ever. Anyway, the big thing today, or rather for several days now if not counting the semi-big cities, is finally seeing a big hub — the city of Shizuoka. I always joke that being in a city without a Starbucks is still being "in the sticks". This trip has proved that it's not really a joke. Also ironic because I'm not too fond of the big globalized cities, as they all house the same cookie-cutter stores like your usual H&M's, luxury brand names with the recognizable monograms, the...Starbucks. There was no reason for me to stop at Shizuoka but I wanted to check out the city, so I picked a coffee shop to kick back and charge up the phone.
Not wanting to repeat the days of walking through dull monotony, I picked the coastal route yet again, for the surfers and fancy beach houses. It's kind of outside the urban area so it was nice and quiet. A man on a scooter, possibly in his 40's, called out to me asking where I walked from. I was taken aback, since from the get-go he specifically asked where I walked from, not where I am from. Cue the Vancouverite-on-a-Working-Holiday-walking-to-Kyoto-from-Tokyo introduction that I've since nailed down pat. Curiously, I asked him why he hailed me and if I looked out of place. He replied saying that when he was young he also backpacked, and saw me in the whole backpacker getup. Wow.
During this whole time I hadn't considered myself a "backpacker", which to me evokes an image of scruffy-haired, not the cleanest (for guys, definitely unshaven) and with a big pack on their backs seemingly heading nowhere in particular. I...suppose that's kind of what I looked like, fair enough. So now I can proudly say I did, in fact, backpacked through parts of Japan. Going off on a tangent here but I've only imagined myself backpacking to and from school, not you know, "backpacking" backpacking. Afterwards I asked him for a picture to commemorate the encounter.
I kept walking along the coast with the shoulder shrinking rapidly as I moved along. Soon it felt really fishy to walk on, as I was only half a metre away from the cars flying past. That was the easy part because coming up was a dark tunnel with even narrower shoulders; really not for walking. I knew there's a cafe just after the tunnel (light at the end...) so I continued on and the cafe was just a few metres from the exit. Once inside, I asked the owner if the road actually permitted walking. Yes. Shocked by the reply and the magnificent view — the cafe was perched on top of a cliff drop with an expansive view of the ocean — I ordered a piece of chocolate cake so I could sit and ogle at the picturesque view while contemplating whether to continue on this road.
At this time I was messaging Daiki about where I should meet him. It just so happens he was nearby and said that he'll come pick me up. This whole trip I always avoided rides if I could but the road is just too narrow and dangerous to walk on. A while later he and his friend arrived and we headed for Daiki's home. They were just returning from indoor climbing and were dumbfounded that I was walking on this part of the road, because to them it looked a bit impossible. His home is spacious, unlike the ones in Tokyo and upon entering the house, I was immediately greeted warmly by his father Takashi and mother Kasumi. Next, I was shown my room which was so much bigger than what I'd get in Airbnbs.
For those that do not know, Couchsurfing is a website where people host travellers without anything in exchange, just that travellers behave themselves and hopefully share their stories. Daiki's family also fed me, and that night was maki-sushi and a bunch of other side dishes. Both Daiki's parents enjoyed hosting me, as all their previous guests didn't speak Japanese. Plus, I was on the same journey that their son embarked on a few years ago and to them, it was unthinkable that anyone would want to do this, much less a foreigner. At first they were nervous about welcoming complete strangers, but soon found it fun, with guests from all over the world staying with them, somewhere so far away from the usual tourist spots. After dinner, Daiki shared his trip, tips, photos and even wanted to give me his Tokaido guidebook. I declined saying it's a memento from his trip. He's a marathon runner (a lot of Japanese seem to be) so when he did the trip, he would run 30km then walk the remaining 10 or so kilometres, 12 hours a day. Couldn't even imagine that. Before I hit the sheets, I asked for his advice as a runner on how to avoid blisters. "That's life," he said, "hard to avoid it."
It was really fun to connect with someone who's done the same crazy thing (to me) I was trying to do. There wasn't much small talk needed. We just went straight into long discussions, like getting an "Advance to Go and collect $200" chance card. He invited me to walk the Shimada part of Tokaido the next morning.
Early start at 6:30AM as that's when the family has their breakfast everyday, even on the weekends. No ifs ands or buts. Even when Daiki has irregular shifts. I thanked Takashi and Kasumi for graciously letting me stay with them for the night. Daiki and I started our walk at Shimada and on the way there, learned that he worked at the Nestle ice coffee department at the time. He used to be in the brewing department but transferred to bottling, which uses a lot of volatile disinfectants that he's not too fond of. In the future he wants to apply for an international assignment, perhaps in Switzerland, and that became his reason to improve his English. In his previous role he had many opportunities to interact with overseas teams. At his new role, not so much. One of his reasons for hosting couchsurfers was so his English doesn't degrade and I could tell he tries very hard to learn the language. As for his future plans, he says he'll probably be staying with Nestle (nope, I've since talked to him, and he's moved on). A working holiday sounds exciting, he says, but the uncertainty after he returns to Japan is what worries him. I wish I was as responsible as him.
We walked past a park to reach the world's longest wooden footbridge while he explained a lot of the history of Tokaido — the different signs describing the buildings that used to be there, the shrines, the guys that "ferry" people across the river that was too shallow for boats. In return I explained a lot of English word-usage he had trouble with. Like the difference between being stupid, a fool, and an idiot. It took me some time to think about it as a native English speaker and eventually I told him that in most cases you need the context in which the words are used in, and suggested that he should read novels instead of the dictionary to get a more rounded understanding of the language. I understand his confusion with language learning because I'm also in the same situation, except reversed. Japanese nuances always trouble me, just like how English nuances trouble him. Aside from language learning, Daiki is a very active guy who's into many sports, and not much into computers or digital media.
I had to be at Kanaya station to take the train to Ieyama where I would be staying that night. It was during this time my Nexus 5 started to show its age. To my horror the phone's screen was stuck showing a pink-hued static image, exactly like the old CRT TVs back in the day when your signal is dead or the broadcast is off the air. I've since learned that the flex cable connecting the display had taken continuous damage from heat, an issue that plagued this particular model and was what ultimately killed most of them. For the rest of the trip I had to bear with a dying phone, which was quite literally my lifeline as I used it for GPS directions and for booking accommodation.
At Kanaya we bid our farewells as I boarded the expensive train (it's mostly a sightseeing rail line) to Ieyama where Chikae waited with her car. While showing me around the village, unexpectedly she requested that I cook her and her mom my curry, which she read about on reviews the previous hosts left in my Airbnb profile. She offered to cover the groceries so I picked out whatever I felt suited their tastes. My host has lived in New Zealand for the past 30 years with her husband Graham, whom she met during university days. They now hop back and forth between New Zealand and Japan. During the short tour, all I could see were tea fields that dotted the hills everywhere with their lush light-green tea bushes. For dinner, I cooked my pumpkin curry which got their approval. At least, I felt it did, because people can be overly polite here. But, I can kind of say I'm much better at reading people now. Much healthier to think the compliments are genuine than to suspect otherwise. To cap off the night, Chikae mentioned they were heading to the local outdoor onsen just a few minutes' drive away and asked if I would like to have a dip too. I've been looking forward to my next onsen experience ever since that one time at the onsen hostel back in Hakone, so of course I joined. It was my first public onsen and there wasn't a second when I felt embarrassed bathing in a public one, since everyone walked around buck-naked too.
In the morning we had Chikae's fresh bread and salad with my peanut butter tofu "pudding", which they thought was kind of out there. She offered me a ride to Fujieda station to continue my journey. The immediate goal for the day was to try the intense maccha gelato Chikae told me about, and when I got there, there was a wait of about 15 minutes.
Without even a thought, I went with the most concentrated maccha flavour #7 and balanced it with the "new tea" shincha flavour — a limited time offering only during harvest season. Shincha was mild and sweet but #7, dang that was full of umami and I was caught off-guard. Nothing eventful except for the fact I was enjoying listening to "Ready Player One" immensely. Once I got to Shimada, I took the train to Kikugawa where I was staying at a business hotel that night. Short day today as I was a bit under the weather. Checked in early at the hotel to trim my hair, got a set of bento at the supermarket and called it in.
Speaking as a budget traveller, the best mornings are had at business hotels that include breakfast buffets. Feeling very fresh from a long night's rest I woke up at 6AM for the buffet and absolutely stuffed myself full with eggs, croissants, bread rolls, and a fillet of grilled mackerel. No care at all about the calories, given that a full day's walk of 25km burns quite a lot of fuel.
Seeing how hilly the tea plantations were yesterday, I had a moment's thought of skipping that part of the route, but then I already took a half day's break...can't slack. Otherwise there'd be no meaning to this trip if I took the easy way out every time. Of course, right at the start of the walk it was "Umm, dang, why am I doing this, the hills go on forever!" It was all uphill. It was humid. It was hot. And I had a heavy pack on me weighing me down even more. But every time I had these thoughts, I always kept on-track because I'd been telling everyone I met of my plan to walk the Tokaido, and if I chickened out I'd feel I'd disappoint them. This is/was my way of motivating myself, you see. Not the most confident person, but I do put a ton of trust in people who have confidence in me, so I have to live up to that. More than that though, I think I just wanted to get my sweaty paws on another cream roll at the next conbini because I was positively addicted to them. Actually that's definitely why. Yes, if you haven't realized, I am the horse chasing that sweet carrot hanging on the stick
I'm glad I stayed the course though, because this was one of the highlight walks of Shizuoka. Through roads with serene views of vibrant tea fields carpeting the hills, to the processing plants that pumped out aromas of sencha from their exhaust pipes, it was the exact experience I wanted in a trip like this. No expectations, just heading out into the unknown and discovering something as spectacular as this. However, when I arrived at the only shop in the area I realized my camera charger was missing.
Pardon my French, but shiitake on a stick! It's the worst thing to lose while travelling! I knew I couldn't find a replacement in a moment's notice because my LX7 has been out of production for a few years already. Straight away I called the hotel without hesitating or worrying about my broken Japanese, and had them let me know if they do find anything. Thinking back and retracing all my steps, the last time I charged my camera's batteries was at Daiki's, so I hastily messaged him. To calm my nerves I ordered a zaru soba. What, you don't grab things to munch on to calm down? What's lost is lost, so I decided to enjoy the meal and just keep walking and — fingers crossed — hoping Daiki will deliver me good news.
Today's stop will be Fukuroi but part of the way to Kakegawa had already taken 3~4 hours, and I really wanted to rest the legs and charge my phone. By the way, at this point I was about half way into the Tokaido, and it was here that I finally felt that walking the whole distance isn't so impossible after all. To celebrate, I picked out a kakegori shaved ice shop to have a sit-down and ordered a "Jaajii" milk with berries. What in the hells is a Jaajii and why does it have milk (why not, you don't even know what it is!)? Up till that point I had no idea what "Jaajii" milk was and I was udderly confused by the menu item, but the owner explained it's a richer type of milk from these cows called "Jerseys". Thanks Professor Google, you've taught me something yet again. Absolute confusion with Japanese loan words is a longstanding issue in my journey of learning the language. Jersey moomoos aside, it was also my first time trying a proper kakegori shaved ice: it is nothing like the shaved ice back home, that stuff is hot, festering garbage compared to this.
By the time I got to Fukuroi it was dark, but it didn't matter because I was staying at Hamamatsu that night, and being a big hub there will be many places to grab a quick dinner. In the end I just uhh, "explored" the city as I walked to get another bento for dinner at a supermarket. Hey, I'm entirely fine with budget eats and they are delicious to me. And I prioritize time exploring over sit-down meals. Hamamatsu felt like a nice city to me.
Looking forward to tomorrow's breakfast buffet.
Breakfast buffet time! After quickly stuffing myself with a ~1200 kCal of food, I took the train back to Fujieda to meet with Daiki for the camera charger. The walk started at Fukuroi and traces of the town quickly disappeared after half an hour. At Iwata were parts of the remaining old Tokaido, but only scantily. Then I came upon a forested path and out to a residential area. See, not much to tell except that I had constant thoughts of what conbini pastries to try next. Whenever I'm near a station that accompanies a town I'd do a search on restaurants to see if there's anything worth trying. There was a well-rated gyoza place nearby but due to Golden Week, they were closed. I guess that's what I need to expect during this week. With that option gone, I went to the nearest — you guessed it — supermarket for a quick bite. This time, a tub of yogurt (don't do it) and a bread roll. I wasn't exactly enthusiastic about that meal, but it did seem healthy and much lighter than my breakfast.
Smelling my destination in the air, I sped up and started to see taller buildings as I got nearer to Hamamatsu. When I got within the fringes of the city, I saw a Gyoumu Super (a discount supermarket chain that I loved grocery-shopping at back in Tokyo) and went and got myself onigiri and tofu. In this trip I had a lot of tofu, like raw tofu, since it was cool and refreshing, plus easily digestible and great for protein. And very cheap. Right around that time I was listening to the end of "Ready Player One" with the sun setting at around 6PM. This moment has been engraved into my memory it seems, and I still find it very interesting how I can remember most of what I saw and felt at the time. Dinner was an unexciting tofu meal again, but since I was staying in a business hotel...
Breakfast buffet time! Stuffed myself full again. Oh the joys of walking 25km a day. My love for breakfast buffets aside, there are cities where I'd love to just chill in and to take my time and explore the shops. Hamamatsu is the perfect example. Its main streets are lined with curious shops and eateries; the ones that caught my eye the most were the cafes on the 2nd floor overlooking the street below. But alas, it's only 7AM and I had a goal to reach. It's always a bit depressing to inch away from the big cities as you feel the loneliness of small towns creep in ever so slightly. That plus the dead air of abandoned buildings.
Arriving at Bentenjima, which at first looked like a beach resort town. That is, until you step foot across the bridge into the island itself. It was as if, or actually it was, left behind by modernity. Initially it appears the entire island closed up shop for good, and not because of Golden Week, until you look deeper. The state of things on the island makes you think it has been abandoned because let's be honest, every building here was heartbreakingly outdated with its peeling exteriors and its unchanging facade directly from the 1970's. Unchanging can be good if style-wise, it's historic or part of a design movement, but when it's, how should I describe this, a block of sad concrete with pockets of windows, that's not very inspiring. Now, personally I find these towns very alluring because it lets me peek back into time, but it's not exactly welcoming to the everyday tourist. However, the eerie part was that while the shops and hotels look abandoned, a look inside them showed they're kind of not — at least, they were well-kept. Which led me to believe that they were, in fact, just closed for the holidays. But who's even visiting, when during the most popular vacationing period of the year saw no visitors in town? Bizarre.
With "Ready Player One" completed, I moved onto another audiobook, "New York 2140". Exactly as the title says, it's a novel set in a sci-fi setting of a flooded New York in the year 2140 due to climate change. Not episodic like your usual novel, but a series of interconnected short stories about the tenants of an aging apartment building.
I needed to be at Futagawa station for my pick-up by my Airbnb host, but since it was starting to drizzle I only walked to the nearest station. Mina, along with her husband are owners of Omotehama Network, an NPO ocean life preservation centre/museum/dive gear rental shop all rolled into one, near the Omotehama shores. Their work focuses on ecosystem protection, especially for the sea turtles that arrive each year to lay their eggs on the beaches nearby. To fund their activities, they also rent surf gear and do tours. Airbnb being one of their income streams, and that night I had the entire house to myself. Sorry, that's not entirely true as I also had a sea turtle as my roommate. Inside the spacious house there was a speaker system that blasted jazz tunes all night, while I edited photos on their iMac, Netflixed Cosmos and enjoyed homecooked curry soba. Didn't get to talk to Mina much, but she did mention I was the second Airbnb guest they hosted that was walking the Tokaido.
A little bit different from our usual scheduled program today: the route entails a loop just to pad the kilometres I skipped from getting rides or taking the train. Wanting to see the beach because that's what's famous around here, I went through farms and deserted wooded areas, to reach a quiet beachfront. As it was raining the night before, the path was muddy and partially flooded. After 30 minutes of hopping between dry pavement and avoiding huge puddles, I had enough of it and took the tsunami evacuation route to get back up to the paved road and continued the loop. What immediately caught my senses was a very fresh smell, possibly flowers blooming. It was a familiar aroma but I couldn't for the life of me pinpoint what it was.
For an afternoon snack, I had one of Japan's ubiquitous milk coffee drinks, the one I picked out being a "Bottlatte", and a French toast from the conbini. I feel I haven't praised these convenience "conbini" stores enough, because back home all we have are week-old, greasy and stale hotdogs eternally exercising on their hotdog treadmills, as I imagine them to be. But in Japan, the prepared foods are actually very tasty — so are the packaged ones — and many drinks and snacks to choose from. They're actually shops you'd want to stop at for food, and not to just borrow their washrooms. They're beacons of hope for travellers like me.
At around 4PM I chanced upon my favourite MaxValu, a supermarket chain that offers free green tea in most of their locations. Or maybe that's just a Japanese supermarket thing, since I've found several others that do the same. So, 4PM is a bit late for lunch, but better late than never. Walking past that conveyor belt sushi restaurant outside really made me want some sushi, so I decided to treat myself to some supermarket sushi bento. I said "treat myself" and I mean it. These sushi bentos are, according to my taste buds, better than a lot of actual sushi restaurants here in Vancouver.
It was getting dark by the time I got back to Futagawa station where Mina said she could give me a ride back to the house, some 5km away. So I called my Airbnb host to ask if she can pick me up, but she had a children's event to attend and suggested I take a taxi. A short distance of 5km is around ￥2000 and I really rather not give up a sushi meal for a taxi ride, but I was running out of options. The weather forecast warned of heavy rain in an hour or two, so I either take the taxi, or immediately head back on foot. Although I'm not a runner, I didn't have my pack on that day so I was very light-footed and figured, if I speed walk Olympic-style I could probably make it in an hour. Everything was decided in a few seconds right then and there because I didn't have the luxury to dawdle. It was time to skedaddle. The route back to the Airbnb was mostly pitch dark. This is a rural area after all. Thankfully, there wasn't much traffic to run me over so that was fine. In the end I won the race against the clouds, and even had time to frame a few handheld long exposure night shots. It didn't last long though, because once I got back to the house, the skies started to pummel the poor roof with cats and dogs. Fortunately, by then I was enjoying Cosmos over curry soba.
A short walk was planned for today, so I indulged in my much-loved pastime of sleeping in. I'd probably win a podium position in sleeping in if it was a regulated sport. Mina gave me a ride to Futagawa, where I took the train to Toyohashi to start the day's hike. Aside from the small factories and various mom-and-pop shops plastered with faded posters from decades past, there's really not much to see.
By now I've started to take note of all the signs posting the remaining distances to the next cities, and kind of took it up as a traveller's collecting hobby. No joke, it gave me intense pleasure — much like counting down the days till Christmas as a kid — to see the numbers slowly decrease. It's also a log of sorts, helping me feel physically, not just through Google Maps, how far I've gone and how much more I still have to go.
I was continually amazed by these "forgotten" areas, how it's actually populated mostly by K-12 students because a lot of the trains I took in the mornings were packed with them. Really, on the trains, buses, bicycles they were all I encountered. I've read about how a lot of villages are being deserted by the younger generation, how their sole conbini in town has shuttered and really, because there's not much going on for them in these areas if they're not farming. It's sad to see that happening around the places I walked through, but I really can't blame them. I mean, where are they going to get their conbini pastries!?
Oh yeah before I forget, since Bentenjima 2 days ago, I've completed walking across the Shizuoka prefecture. You wouldn't know it if you just took the Shinkansen through the region, but Shizuoka is really, really long. For the longest time I kept wondering, "Am I past Shizuoka yet?" like the kids you often see in movies annoying the hell out of their parents asking non-stop, "Are we there yet?" The walks since then are part of the Aichi prefecture, and while nothing has really changed, mentally it was a breath of fresh air to be in another prefecture.
Lunch was pork cutlet right by the ocean beside abandoned buildings. Sankai, the restaurant I was in, is spacious and has a nice retro vibe to it. With its large arch windows, it's just like a restaurant pulled directly from a period drama; I'd put it some time in the 60's. I really took my time enjoying my lunch as it was bloody hot that day — had to take shelter from the blasted sun. With completely clear skies and no wind, not even a breeze, it really wasn't that fun on the road that day.
Today's destination city is Gamagoori and without prior research in any of the cities I'd end up in each day, it's akin to opening up a Kinder Surprise. And the Kinder toy that day was finding out this little town is famous for its amusement park Laguna Ten Bosch. From afar, I could already see the ferris wheel that acted as a sign post for the park. Walking past it, I never gave any thought of actually visiting the park because I'm just not that interested, and the ticket price could pay for a fancy sushi meal. Not saying I would go for a fancy sushi meal, since the supermarket stuff is fancy enough for this budget (read: broke) traveller. Take note, budget-blowers. Always compare on-the-whim activities or purchases to that sweet sushi meal that you probably won't have, because you're much too cheap.
Checking-in at my Airbnb, I was greeted by Susumu the host. He had to immediately run because he's got a plot of farm to work on, so he left me to myself. My accommodation is an entire traditional house, more like a villa, with a square-shaped hallway where the central area houses the rooms. All four walls of these square rooms are actually sliding doors, so if a group wanted, they could open up all the walls to create one big open space for banquets and such. However, the first sign that told me this isn't some ordinary house are the gender-separated toilets and the huge soaker bath that could fit 5 people in it, easily. Then Susumu returned, and answered all my questions.
This house used to be some company's private vacation retreat, hence the atypical layout. I'm not too sure if he just manages the place as a side gig, but he himself works on a farm, and that year was his first time growing rice. When he first started hosting on Airbnb, he was wildly surprised at how much interest there is in this property, and really came to enjoy interacting with all the foreign guests. Note how I used "interacting with guests", because Susumu doesn't really know much English, or anything that's not Japanese. Not to worry, since through my observations, everyone speaks Japanese or English or Thai or what have you, after a few drinks in. It's all good. Once I told him about my trip, he revealed that he had another guest, a Chinese university student, doing the same a few months back. Right then, I knew this was the same guy that also stayed at Mina's place, but I went on Airbnb to verify anyway. Susumu gave me a quick tour of his "operations" as he pulled open sliding walls full of futons. He explained that from time to time, he'll get a surge of guests staying, and because this is a one-man show, he had stacks of cleaned futons at the ready.
As I enjoyed my unusual breakfast of cereal with soft raw tofu, Susumu asked if the cereal was good, and is it for dieting because he's never had it before. No, not really. It's full of refined sugars so there's no flavour at all, and it certainly doesn't help with dieting. I just couldn't find plain oats, which if you've never stayed in Japan, is quite the Herculean task outside the big international cities. Staying at the same accommodation for more than a night is so nice, because it's a huge load off my shoulders to walk without the pack.
With that said, the route for the day was again, very bland, and I really hammered out the kilometres because of that. For once it was a very easy route, as in, no constant map checking since all I had to do was follow the train tracks or keep my compass reading north-west. The slightly memorable thing I saw was around a certain station Koda, there was this small cluster of artisanal shops, such as a bakery, a patisserie, an everything-tofu shop, restaurants, and even a leatherworking shop. I nosed around a bit but there wasn't much to see since many of the shops were still closed for Golden Week.
Keeping to Google's directions, I somehow ended up on a dirt road between rice paddies. That wasn't too much fun as the grass and weeds were overgrown and it slowed down my pace immensely. By then, I really wanted a snack so I queried the same Google that led me to this messy footpath (I don't learn, nor do I have another option, lead away Captain Google!) and found a MaxValu an hour's walk away. Normally, I'd think you're joking. An hour away from a supermarket, and you're going on foot? Get the hell outta here with your crazy talk. Except, I've grown so used to it that an hour's walk was considered a walk in the park, literally. Funny how your perception changes over two and a half weeks of constant walking.
At MaxValu, I went max-value. Grabbed all the discount-stickered items, sat in the rest area, sipped on local Shizuoka tea. Local Shizuoka tea dispensed freely from a machine, but local Shizuoka tea nonetheless. An absolute feast. Even had the idea to make my own dessert, Bottlatte on raw soft tofu. You know about the Italian dessert affogato, where a shot of espresso is poured onto a scoop of vanilla ice cream? This, this is the healthy version of that. After the feast, I hurried over to Anjo station where I took the train back to Gamagoori.
That night, another guest checked in. She's Chieko, a 32-year-old from Osaka who was visiting for the "fes" (festival) at Laguna called mori michi ichiba, apparently a big music and arts festival attracting big-name bands and artists, and even bigger crowds. Susumu added that tomorrow, the villa will be full-house with 20-plus guests staying over. Seems like I had impeccable timing with festivals. He then encouraged me to attend too, but the professional fes-goer Chieko noted that tickets on the day of are ￥7500, up from the normal price of ￥3000. If I could get in for ￥3000 I'd probably go check it out, but... Oh well, not really one for crowds anyway.
We were chatting aimlessly the whole night, though I mostly listened because I wasn't too articulate and I enjoyed listening to their banter a lot more. Due to that, the host commented that I'm the quiet type, and I guess he's kind of right. Time sure does fly when you're with enjoyable companions and by 11PM, Susumu recommended we check out Takeshima which is a few minutes' walk away — whatever it is, that's an automatic yes from me, I'm always down for some exploring.
So, what is Takeshima? It's a really small island that sits a single shrine at the top, all of which is connected by a footbridge lined with amber sodium lamps. This makes for a very atmospheric backdrop for couples, and there were lots that night. Not just couples though, there were young groups enjoying their beers and getting rowdy, but they all kept to themselves. Remember, this was at 11PM in a quiet town, so it was quite refreshing to see actually. The real question is though, where did these people come from? Are they all here for the festival tomorrow? Because it seemed to me, the region is mostly inhabited by middle-aged blue collar workers. Anyway, Chieko and I went up to the shrine while Susumu waited below. Contrasting the amber lights on the bridge, the shrine was dimly illuminated with cool-white lights, painting a fairly eerie, haunted ambience. We explored around until we got to an unlit path, shrouded in complete darkness. Chieko then pulled out her iPhone and asked if I wanted to use it as a torch, to journey on by myself. Hmm, nope. I told her, while I don't believe in spirits and the like, (not one for superstitions at all; I'll gladly walk through a graveyard if it's a shortcut) I'm terribly afraid of tripping or spraining an ankle, ending my trip then and there. Those are real and immediate consequences.
Unlucky, these festival-goers. Grey, rainy skies welcomed them that morning but already, people were piling up at the train station waiting for the shuttle to Laguna. I felt like a salmon swimming against the tide during the spawning season when I took my train to Kariya, seeing all the people coming into Gamagoori while I, going out. Heading into the largest hub between Kanto and Kansai, I could already feel the urbanization peeking through. Like streams to rivers, to the great big sea. Hmm, so actually, the crowd is akin to salmon heading upriver to spawn, while I'm the confused salmon heading back into sea...
On the road, I'm always on the lookout for places to refuel. One place that caught my attention was an eatery with ads for ￥400 tuna bowls. Now I wasn't that hungry, but it was almost 5PM and I hadn't had a proper meal that day and it had been 3 hours since my last break and... Yeah I was giving myself a slew of excuses to enjoy a sit-down meal, and I wasn't even tired too. But for this trip I did set a rule to adhere to: find a place to rest the legs every 3 hours (it was initially set at 2 hours). So, I went in.
A new experience waited for me inside, as it's a self-serve type of restaurant, just like the cafeterias in IKEA. You walk up to the counter where you pick the dishes you want and at the end you get to ask for rice, which happens to be where you get the tuna bowls. Oops, I already picked out a tray full of food. Then you sit down, and a staff comes over to tally up your order and to help you microwave your food. I didn't say this was a classy establishment, did I? Microwave's perfect for this guy. The experience was novel. The food, was not. Swiftly, I finished up and hurried to end the day's trek, because my host for the night planned homemade sushi dinner. Definitely wasn't gonna miss that! Quick calculation told me it was impossible to make it in time if I walked the whole way, so I had to compromise and take the subway part way through.
Nobuyo and Fujiko lives in the Jiyugaoka neighbourhood in Nagoya. In my short time there I could tell it's a very nice area to live in. A residential neighbourhood but situated close to central Nagoya and many unique shops just a short walk away. They were just about to start dinner, with help from another guest, Annie from Shanghai. She's an executive sales manager for some pharma company based in Japan. Chatting with Annie, I learned about various spots to visit in China, and that one of her friends' family owns a tea mountain. Not a field. A tea mountain.
Back to the hosts: they're both retirees who met and worked at NTT, currently doing all sorts of volunteering activities and travelling. From their photos, this couple is very well-travelled ever since they were young, and host a ton of couchsurfers, making friends around the globe. In their home, you feel at ease immediately as they're super open-minded. The house itself is very cozy too, with its extensive use of natural materials and passive solar design. Now that I think of it, this was the first passive solar house I've been in and it felt great. Even without the air conditioning on, the room temperature is always cooler than the outside. Visitors to Japan may well know, most residential buildings do not have insulation, so without air conditioning, summers are blisteringly hot and winters are frigidly cold.
After a scrumptious breakfast, I joined Fujiko and Annie to the zoo as Fujiko wanted to see a Tanzanian artist paint the giraffes in the tinga tinga style. A short car ride and we're at the zoo, where Fujiko is an event volunteer so we could get in for free. Navigating through the zoo, we arrived at the giraffe exhibit and watched the artist paint for about 15 or so minutes until Fujiko sensed that Annie was getting a bit uneasy. She did have a flight to catch, so it's understandable. And it was quite hot with the sun relentlessly showering down its solar rays. We left and dropped Annie at the station, and went back home (yeah, I already call it home, after a night's stay) to cool down and chat.
I asked a lot about them. Fujiko's from Gifu, the neighbouring prefecture, and Nobuyo is a local Nagoyan. When they were young travellers they received a lot of help from locals, and hosting on couchsurfing is their way of returning the kindness and to meet new people. They have two daughters, one in the Yokohama region and the other, escapes my memory. With their daughters having left the roost, Fujiko admits that it does get lonely, but that children shouldn't stay with their parents forever. Besides, with the technology nowadays, it's very easy to connect with them. I was the first international guest they had that could really chat in Japanese, so she was really happy about that. Otherwise, it'd be Nobuyo talking most of the time, as he can speak English and some Mandarin. I, on the other hand, was grateful for the amount they shared; their stories and the wonderful meals. Nobuyo came back from his volunteer work and was surprised I was still around. Before I set off, I was fed yesterday's leftover ball sushi, took a group photo, gave them a hug, and while I didn't want to, continued on to my next destination.
As expected, the surrounding area is quite chic, lined with minimalistic cafes, expensive hair and beauty salons, bars. Walking through Nagoya reminded me somewhat of Tokyo's endless city limits, the complete opposite of Shizuoka's endless farmland landscape. But unlike Tokyo, this city does hit a limit and the host for the night is situated in an agricultural area. While I still could, I got myself a cream cheese bun to snack on and headed for the train to my host in Aisai.
I'm not sure what's up with my virtual navigator, but it went dumdum again and led me to a spot a kilometre away from my intended destination, in the middle of a plot of farm. Quickly noticing the blunder, I corrected my trajectory and arrived at Mochi and Ruru's place. These two were newly weds, around my age possibly, with Mochi the husband a real estate agent and Ruru a librarian at a university in the city who's originally from the northern tip of Japan, in Wakkanai of Hokkaido. They weren't quite the talkative type, and coming from me, that's saying a lot. Well, I tried to keep the conversation going as best I can, and asked about travel, specifically their honeymoon. They hadn't planned it yet and weren't too interested in overseas travel, preferring to stay within the borders as there's a lot to see and do. With them, the impression I got was they're not doing Airbnb to meet people, but for the added income. Not necessarily a bad thing, though they just weren't into conversations.
Mochi walked me to the station, where we split ways. For once, I started early in the morning and it started to drizzle. It wasn't something that would drench you if you were just walking to, say, the train station, but even a little rain like this could soak you over several hours. And since I didn't have any dinner the previous night, I figured it'd be better if I sat down in a family restaurant for breakfast and see how the weather develops.
That turned out to be a good call because it was pouring once I reached Gusto. It's a chain you see everywhere but one I hadn't yet tried. We'll be changing that today. Hmm, I didn't miss anything at all, because the food and the drink bar wasn't anything to write home about. Saizeriya wins this match.
Main highlight of the day was crossing a bridge that delineated the Aichi-Mie prefectural border. See how fast it was to get across Aichi? Shizuoka was an eternity in comparison. New prefecture, new novel to listen to. "New York 2140" proved to be a good read for me, as I didn't mind the slice-of-life mini stories approach to storytelling. The next book however, became one of my favourites. "The First Fifteen Lives of Harry August". I wholeheartedly recommend this title to anyone who enjoys a good time travelling mystery.
By noon, I found myself once again in a MaxValu, but found out this location didn't have a rest area! Soft tofu in hand, I had to quickly find another supermarket, because I wasn't having it. Not gonna have warm tofu on this hot day, and I'm sure as hell not gonna eat standing by the street, out of a tofu packaging, like some crazy person. I'll be first to admit, I am crazy but not that crazy. A quick flip on the Google maps showed an AEON mall about 30 minutes out, and a quick hop I was there. Thank the gods they have a rest area. Wait let me correct that, they have a full food court here. Without skipping a beat, I collected my ingredients and sat down at a relatively quiet part of the food court, and began building together my lunch. Yes, you read that right. A carton of ice coffee, a tub of yogurt combined with a banana, peanut butter and almonds that I rationed from the beginning, and of course my soft tofu. A small-batch, artisanally hand-prepared full-course lunch out of a mall's food court. Probably got a ton of stares, but I gave them no mind.
Didn't I say I was a bit nutty?
First destination in Mie was Yokkaichi, the industrial port city famed for its, uhh, night views. Don't get me wrong, I love this type of stuff. It's just not what you'd think when you hear "pretty night view" now, is it? I didn't really get to see the plants light up as it was still an hour before sundown when I walked past that area. What did lit up, however, was my #2 emergency light. Like, Ultraman's blinky-chest type of emergency. Remember folks, always go when you sort-of need to go. Absolutely couldn't bear it and had to break my rule of "only #2 at home or at accommodation" and checked into the closest conbini, a 7-Eleven. Mudslide.
Yokkaichi has a real Shitamachi atmosphere (sorry about the terrible pun...) and I missed my local shotengai in Nishiarai as I walked through theirs. I was either priced-out or the hotels in my price range were booked, so I had to stay at a minshuku down in Suzuka. Maybe they don't get non-Japanese types down here, but the owner asked why I was in the area, and well, cue the Tokaido-walker intro.
As I started out for the day, the proprietress caught me just in time, and handed me a bag with onigiri, canned tea, and a stamina drink to send me off. She must've heard about me from her husband. Thanks for the care package! It need not be said, but it's these little touches that help the numbers on the road signs drop. Taking the train back to Yokkaichi and passing through the station got me salivating at the baked goods on offer that morning. I'm a sucker for fresh baked goods, and curse that intoxicating aroma that wafts out into the station. Curse you, bakers! Sat down for a small cheese boule. Gets me every time.
Steering myself onto the Tokaido, the density and polish of the city peeled away so quickly that I couldn't savour my time in the urban environment. Ever since my phone started to act up, I kept it in airplane mode to conserve battery and only had the GPS turned on. When I needed live maps for whatever reason, I switched on the mobile data and quickly turned it off when done. This was done to avoid unnecessary charging, building up heat, and inevitably shortening the lifespan of the already-dying phone. And around this time the Nexus 5 needed a massive amount of coaxing to work, sometimes requiring 10 minutes of questionable tapping and nudging for it to show any signs of life. The flickering static screen, my increasing impatience, the rambunctious cursing, the excessive force tapping on the damn freakin' thing god damn it why won't you work you piece of...! It really was a CRT TV disguised as a modern-day smartphone. Honestly though, I think it tried its utmost best in helping me through to the end before it completely threw in the towel right after the journey. For that, I'm eternally grateful.
Quite early in the trek I hit the 399km Tokaido sign, and included it into my increasing number of collecting hobbies: storm drain cover art, road signs detailing city distances, and now, Tokaido countdown (count up, as it states distance from Tokyo) signs. Encountering my favourite MaxValu, I ventured in and grabbed mitarashi dango as an energy bar substitute. Who am I kidding, it was just to satisfy my sweet tooth. Not a bad idea though, as it wasn't until an hour and a half later that I came across a conbini where I could sit down to enjoy the care package on a bench.
We're back in dull, overgrown roads, enabling me to really focus on my audiobook with its intriguing plot development. Through Kameyama, I took the train to Seki, a historic post town from the Edo period. All of these post towns retain their traditional style or otherwise restored to their former glory, and some go as far as hiding overhead cables below ground.
Because of my phone being in airplane mode, I didn't get the call from Guesthouse Ishigakiya. Being that they are a small quiet inn, they call ahead to see if you're still checking-in if you don't show up by your listed check-in time. And undoubtedly, the owner Takuya thought I wasn't gonna show up and half-closed up shop, disappearing back into his own home that shares the same plot of land as the guesthouse. In this awkward situation, all I could do was call out loudly to get attention, and it got even more awkward when he showed up visibly annoyed. My bad. He explained that I was the first customer since Golden Week a week ago and was actually the only guest for the night (again). Always one for de-escalation, I told my side of the story, after which he mellowed out and gave me a tour of his place. In the shared kitchen was a framed wall of compartmentalized toy cars that opens up into a room full of toys and comic books. In awe and giddy as a kid — like the two who were actually sitting inside the secret base — Takuya introduced me to his wife and boys. What a cool dad.
Takuya collects a lot of antiques to decorate his guesthouse, a bit rough around the edges but a place full of character. Rather fitting, given the owner himself. I had him pegged as being from Osaka because at that moment, his personality and traits all kinda ticked what I thought an Osakan is. Before all the trips to Japan I thought it was a bit, ignorant, to generalize an entire group of people to a certain type of personality. But if you interpret it lightly, it seems to ring true most of the time. I liken it to the Americas, how the west coast is seen as more laid-back and forgiving compared to our eastern compatriots.
Dropping off my pack, I quickly headed to the nearest supermarket to grab some food before they all closed, because Takuya warned that shops here close a lot earlier. After acquiring my nourishment, I explored the town since it was the only time I actually could — downside to travelling like this. Back at the guesthouse, I plated up my sushi bento all fancy-like, and found Takuya chilling by himself in the shared lounge/dining area. Being the polite guest that I am, I joined him at the table and started an open-ended conversation that lasted an hour and a half.
So, he's Osakan. That's a bingo! Starting off his story, he travelled around Japan in a campervan with his then-girlfriend, now wife, never forgetting about Seki. Eventually, they planted their roots in this old post town and started their new life. His reason for starting the guesthouse was that he loved travelling, but starting a family, you can't really do that. Instead, his brilliant idea was to set up a place to meet and drink with travellers, which he now does late into the night and oftentimes into daylight. Jokingly, he admitted to not needing to work as hard even if business is slow, because his pharmacist wife is the main breadwinner...and that life in Seki is much more affordable. On my end, I talked a bit about how I came to the decision to walk the Tokaido, that initially I wanted to hitchhike my way to Hokkaido.
Hearing "hitchhike", my easy-going host went on to share his tips on how to snag a ride at Service Areas, which he did a lot of when he was younger. He's a fan of 貧乏旅行 "binbou ryokou", i.e. travelling poor, or to put it in a better light, budget travelling. Playing his ukulele by the entrances, he would casually ask the おっさん "ossan" middle-aged men as they were entering, where they were heading. Understandably, women are a lot more hesitant due to the gender difference, and the older men are usually the more lonely ones.
Why target the ones that are entering, you ask? Well, this sly fox had it all figured out. Because of how SAs operate, most people stopping by will take some time to rest, eat, whatever, as that's what they're there for. People just arriving meant time has already been scheduled to be at the SA; more time to guilt trip drivers to pick up a hapless traveller. If there are kids, even better, as he can worm his way into their hearts by entertaining them. If he's lucky, he'll be invited to the cafeteria where bonding happens, making it even harder to reject him later if they have second thoughts. If he's not lucky, by the time the driver leaves, sometimes they'll feel bad that he still hasn't been picked up, and that's when he strikes again. Looking them in the eye while playing his ukulele has netted him quite a few rides, he boasts. Never solicit the ones leaving, as you don't want to put pressure into their decision making. He's tried a few times, but that usually got him short rides to the next SA, or worse, just a few hundred metres out. With kids, it's easier if you have small knick-knacks to have on you to show them and grab their attention. Me looking a bit confused, he clarified by saying that for him, it would be something like origami. And he added, something from home, asking me if there are any small items that represent Canada. I shook my head. I still can't come up with anything.
Takuya continues into the kotowaza, or proverb, 灯台下暗し "toudai moto kurashi", it's darkest under the foot of the lighthouse. In simpler English, it can mean "Can't see the forest for the trees" or in this case, "The grass is greener on the other side". Getting more serious, he explains that while I do not think there's anything special from my home country, to visitors that is simply not true. Likewise, many Japanese won't be bothered to visit their own rural towns and fishing villages, but to a lot of foreigners, they have their unique charms. It rings especially true for him as he's from Osaka and Seki is only a short drive away, but he didn't know about it till he actually started exploring around his own lighthouse.
Seeking adventures far away, but not seeing the excitement happening around you.
Before I called it a night, I asked for his opinion on which route to take, the Tokaido highway or a prefectural road. Either route will be the longest in terms of distance in this whole journey, and since both didn't have any accommodation that I could check into, I had to walk the entire way. I presented my case that the prefectural road follows the rail line, and that if anything happened I could always take the train back. Takuya argued that while that is true, Tokaido being a national highway should have more cars and better visibility, and if anything happened I could always try hitching a ride. If somehow I found myself in any trouble, he said that I could give him a call.
In the end, I decided on taking a rest day by visiting Iga, a historic ninja town to the west. Iga and Koga, the town that I was supposed to walk to, were two famous ninja-producing regions back in feudal Japan. A bit like footballers of present-day Brazil and Spain, I suppose. Anyway, I figured if I'm gonna visit one of them, may as well visit both to see what the hoopla is all about. It wasn't for me. To put it more accurately, I think the whole town caters towards kids, placing cartoon ninjas on everything; shopfronts, station signs, mascot characters, souvenirs, you name it, it's probably there. Everything is somehow linked to ninjas, and I saw the entire city as a theme park.
I left a bit earlier than expected and headed to my Airbnb in Shindo, a few stations away. If I were to describe the sub-area...sub-region? Not sure what the actual term is in English, it's not really a town, nor a village. I would describe it as "rice paddies". I found this aligned more to my travel preferences, framing shots of a belt of rice paddies over ninja dogs or what have you. Got misdirected by Google again, I'm thinking it's not too accurate in these open rural areas. But I figured it out and met up with Michio, the grandpa of the household. Grandpa introduced me to his family, Toyo, his son-in-law, his daughter Kokoro and the 3 young grandkids. My suite is semi-detached, complete with its own automatic seat cover-opening and motion-sensing flushing toilet, mini kitchen, shower, living room. Oh, and the tranquil view of the paddies flanked by a grove of bamboo forest. Just what I needed, because it had been a while since the last full rest day. Toyo showed me their plot of rice and the duck team that waddles between the rows to feast on weeds and pests. Without hesitation he asked if I wanted to give rice farming a try, but eh, I'm fine, it's my rest day.
Grandpa Michio asked me if I needed to visit the supermarket for food, and that he was heading there so he could give me a ride. Secretly, I was hoping they'd invite me to join them for dinner, but that didn't materialize. Next best thing for me would be supermarket sushi bento — like that was even up for debate.
Woke up at the crack of dawn since I had a long day ahead and needed to catch the first train out. I joined Michio and Toyo for morning coffee and shared some of my travel stories, which earned me 2 Calorie Mate energy bars from Toyo as a send-off. Grandpa Michio and his grandson drove me to the station and walked me to the platform. Before the train pulled in, I asked for a photo with them, which Michio gladly accepted. They still didn't leave as the train was pulling away, so I just kept waving until they became a dot in the horizon.
With only 3 days left, I decided that I might as well take the traditional route all the way through to Koga and started my longest walk at Seki. Sadly, it was way too early for anything to be open — and I found out that shops here open late at 10AM anyway — something I already expected. It did let me start guilt-free, because I originally wanted to spend a little more time there. Into the mountains, it reminded me of the winding roads of the Rockies. The difference here is, there are small pockets of settlements, I don't think they can even be called villages, as they're all just a handful of houses. One had a post office, and even a tiny observatory. I bet the skies are crystal-clear here. An artifact from before the smartphone boom was a single shipping container labeled "DVD". It was obvious to me what it was, I mean, whatever can it be, on an otherwise empty stretch of mountainous roads that see a tonne of truckers? I've never seen something like this, so curiosity got the better of me. Filled with vending machines, everything looked a bit ancient, even the machines themselves. I wasn't sure if they even worked, and I wasn't about to find out.
Back on the road, I walked by an older gentleman who waved and greeted me. From my time in Japan, this almost never happens in the city, as everyone keeps to themselves. A quick chat revealed that he was also walking the Tokaido, but he does it in parts. Research after the trip shows that walking the Tokaido, or any of the other Edo Five Routes, are popular retiree activities. Speaking of the Edo period, I always pondered about how the route I was hiking on is more or less the same as the one merchants and such embarked on, 400+ years ago. Notably here in the mountains, if you take out the asphalt road it probably looked just the same; a lot of zigzags up steep paths and a few stone-paved roads.
Returning to reality, I had another #1 urge and seeing a truck drive down a steep dirt road, I approached the driver and asked if there were any rest areas with washrooms nearby. Not looking too surprised by my presence, he said, "Not for another hour, no" and handed me a sheet about...something. I ignored it as it was full of archaic-looking Kanji, and trying to decipher that was totally not my priority at that moment. And since I'm not interested in becoming a flamingo, a bird that relieves itself for evaporative cooling because they don't sweat like us — I was overheating, but I'm not ready to go that far to cool myself — I went into the woods. Now, I know this is very common, but I am a city-boy and was brought up to use toilets, like any hygienic person. Anyway, soon I actually did reach the resting spot that the driver mentioned, and used the chance to refuel with the Calorie Mates I was given.
A short distance later, the ground leveled out and I was met with a 道の駅 "michi no eki", rest areas for people travelling by vehicles. It's like a smaller Service Area that showcases local produce and products. Seemed like I finally reached a small town, and when I saw the first conbini my face lit up. Cooling down in the 7-Eleven, I had a delectable meal consisting of a bento, a Danish pastry (of course), and a coffee-milk. Then, a short siesta to recharge and to dry off. This region is also a tea producing area, with several tea shops dotting the road. Reminiscing on the maccha gelato a week or so ago, I had to get myself a houjicha-flavoured one.
Just around this time, I finished "The First Fifteen Lives of Harry August" and felt a little empty. You know the feeling when you finish a really good book that you don't want to see end?
On the final few kilometres of the day, I hit a town called Minakuchicho where they erected a Tokaido-hiker's rest stop. In Japanese, it's "Tiny Suzuka mountain-pass rest stop", which I think is a mouthful so I prefer my interpretation. By the way, when I tried to find the spot again, I realized it wasn't even on Google Maps. I took the liberty to add it to Google Maps, because it deserves to be on there. Inside this little hut is a vending machine, as it's still a rest stop, and a bench for you to sit and read all the little notes other Tokaido-hikers had left behind. The organizers routinely archive older notes into a binder, and they had ones that — memory's a little hazy — go back to 2009. This was the only spot I found along the route that housed something like a bulletin board for the hikers only, and it really made my day. As the sun was still up, I grabbed the binder and flipped through the pages to try to find any notes that weren't Japanese. I may have missed Korean or Chinese ones as they're quite similar at a glance, but I definitely didn't see any Latin-script languages in there. Realizing that I might be one of a few, or maybe even the first, English speaker to arrive at this little hut who's curious enough to find out what exactly all the notes are about, I had to put up my own. In English of course, and in neon green, just for that extra pizzazz. Filthy attention-seeking foreigners, eh.
Following the same Old Tokaido road into the town centre, I was greeted by traditional streets, but by then the sun was already setting. Lots of rickety wooden buildings with sun-faded pastel-coloured posters, taking you back to the 1960's. Walking through the streets, I didn't see much that reminded me of the new century, similar to Kyoto's Gion district, except this was more honest. Too bad everything was closed for the day, because I'd love to check out the shops, and made a mental note to come visit in the future. Moving further away from town, the scenery transformed into that of rice paddies with a magnificent hilly backdrop accompanied by colourfully painted skies.
Almost that time again for food and I could use a rest, so I hunted around for a proper restaurant or cafe. Along an unlit main road with cars whizzing by, I happened upon a nora cafe that was still open at 8PM. Cafes don't usually open until this late, not to mention in a small town like this, so without hesitating I popped right in. While waiting for my order, I nosed around a bit and learned that like a lot of small owner-run cafes here, it's a gathering place hosting regular live music by locals along with other community events. There was also a dedicated space for trinkets and snacks made locally. It's nice. Gives you a feeling the community takes care of each other. I had a good chat with the owner as I was the only customer there, and from him learned about the famous Montreal International Jazz Festival. And this reminded me of what Takuya said that night, because I actually haven't seen Canada. Plus, whenever people ask me about this-and-that place in Canada, I always reply saying I've only been in Vancouver, mostly, so I can't tell you about your so-and-so place, sorry. Before I hit the road again, I asked for a photo and received a bag of sugar biscuits as a send-off. People are so nice.
Walking with my rear bicycle light blinking behind me, I arrived at my business ryokan. Once inside, the old motel smell tingled my nose, the same kind that perfumes countless North American motels. What in the blazes, some things are truly universal! Sadly my room also came with layers of rancid cigarette smoke built up through the decades, soaked into the peeling wallpapers and in every tatami grain. If the walls could speak, oh the stories they could tell. The pre-bubble era bumbling businessman trying to climb his way up the corporate ladder. The chain-smoking mama-san of the nearby snack bar, needing a place to stay because hers on the riverbank has been flooded by the recent monsoon. The young lovebirds, putting their previous lives behind in the cities, and with it, the social norms, opting to start a family in these paddy-filled lands. The batty traveller romanticizing about the putrid cigarette smell permeating from below his futon, desperately trying to fall asleep.
Waking up to the morning sun shining on my face and my sheets' smokiness wafting about, I was ready for another great day of long walking. Starting from the rusted-out, sun-faded, paint-flaked storefronts of Konan, the destination was Otsu, where the largest lake in the country nestles beside. Promptly, I walked myself outside the outskirts of town into the ever-so-familiar open fields, then the residential area with its flat buildings laid out in a grid pattern.
Early on I picked out a pretty cafe — yes pretty, very pretty — for lunch. I don't remember why, but near the cafe I turned into the train station, maybe for a photo, because I collected station photos too, and beside it sits a middle school. That day was quite hot, around 30°C with unclouded skies, and what I saw the kids do for their physical education on those school grounds made my school days feel unequivocally regal in comparison. On that scorcher of a day, they were bent low, pushing car tires on a dusty, sandy field. I understand the importance of building discipline through hardship but damn, I had it easy. These kids probably see our physical education as frolicking in grassy knolls and picking daisies.
Upper Secret is a pretty cafe within the town of Not Much, and that makes it even prettier. To describe it in a succinct manner, it's an establishment that wouldn't look out of place in any of the metropolitan cities of Japan. I may perhaps be praising it a bit too much though, as any air conditioning on a hot day like that would be an instant B, and a fancy cafe after seeing so many shuttered shops earns them a solid A+. Anywho, I picked a "baked curry set" which was something like a doria crossed with curry. While I waited for my dish to come, I explored the cafe a bit, reading the various signs and pamphlets showed they do a lot of different cooking, baking, and even coffee-brewing classes besides their cafe business. I quite like how a lot of these smaller businesses host local events to bring people together. After the meal, it was still as hot as ever outside, and seeing a nearby 7-Eleven, went in and got a frozen bottle of Calpis to cool myself and my phone down.
As I approached Otsu, the surroundings started to become more commercial again; the usual mess of business signs and temporary sales banners that reminded me of life before ad-blockers on the information superhighway. If you're reading this and do not use an ad-blocker, please do yourself a favour and install one on the browser of your choice. Going all the way to Ishiyama where my Airbnb was would take too long, so it was decided that today's walk ends at Minami-Kusatsu. Remember the blisters I mentioned on the first day? Well, they were kinda still there, just healing, and there is a mont・bell — they're outdoor-gear-specialized stores — in the shopping centre just next to the station. I thought about getting some ointment or bandaid for blisters, but quickly shot that idea down because the next day's already the final day of the journey, it was a bit late for that. And just like Daiki said, I learned to live with it anyway.
At Ishiyama, I was picked up by Hiromi, a Japanese-language teacher who I had a long conversation with at the dinner table over yakiniku. I haven't really talked about this yet, but before all this, I wasn't really the most talkative person. Buuut, walking for hours everyday, you're inevitably gonna be stuck with your own thoughts, or even lack thereof. So after each day, I don't care how quiet you are in your normal day-to-day, you're gonna want to talk to someone, anyone, who'll be gracious enough to lend an ear.
Back to Hiromi, she studied in England in her youth, where she met her Swiss husband. Soon after that, they moved to his homeland where she spent 30 years of her life there, teaching Japanese. She's since divorced, and moved back home to live with her father, sister Mayumi, and an incredibly humpy Akita pup named Mina. Specifically in Otsu because she enjoyed the Shiga rental prices and the closeness to Kyoto. Having never been to Europe, I asked a lot about it, especially the Swiss region. Learned that the food there isn't very good as it's always cheese fondues, hamburger steaks, and potatoes. It was also hard for her to communicate too, because while she can speak Swiss-German, depending on where in the country you are, people will be speaking different dialects — Swiss-German, German-German, and Austrian-German. Honestly that sounds a lot like Japan; the rural dialects may as well be German to me. Swiss-German? Austrian-German? Whatever-any-German.
At long last, the final day, and the final journal entry. With the pack off for the finale, I started at Minami-Kusatsu and arrived back at Ishiyama after an hour and a half. Since this whole region is urban, there's not much difference from station to station, so nothing to take note of. In these built-up cities, space is of essence, and I love discovering the type of shops that operate under elevated roads/railroads. Lots of sunakku bars providing entertainment in an otherwise wasted section of usable land. Of course, you need the proper population density to be able to support the increased number of shopfronts, but I personally think they add a very unique touch to the overall feel of the city.
Made my way into the suburbs and hunted around for a refueling station as my energy reserves were getting low. Situated in a quiet suburban neighbourhood along the Tokaido, a supermarket answered my call. Hungrily, I marched in in search of a good candidate to become my source of energy as I savoured the final leg of my journey. I wanted the day to be uhh, a little more historic since I was, afterall, heading into the Old Capital and as I rummaged through the bargain bin like the people of Walmart during Black Fridays, I found it, 50% off kusa mochi! Absolutely perfect little morsels, and it was one of my favourite types too.
To treat myself, I picked out madocafe for lunch for their panoramic view of Lake Biwa. Pointing my watch-compass towards the lake, a building stuck out like a sore thumb, the tallest one in the area: Prince Hotel. It's great to have landmarks to use as a guide, that way I didn't have to check my phone, which as you know was already dying and out of service most of the time.
I was in tip-top condition — no pack weighing me down, mochi in hand, freshly rested, and legs primed for walking. The lake-side parks felt so calm, and a lot of people shared the same opinion too, with many lined by the shores fishing, a little girl happily flying her kite, and picnickers strewn about. Near madocafe was an open grassy park with the lake view to the front and a line of fancy cafes and restaurants in the back, really the perfect plot of lawn to laze on. Finally plopped myself in the waiting area of madocafe, where I waited for around 30 minutes or so, not too sure because I dozed off like an old man waiting for his check-up. By the time "Lee" was called, the cafe was mostly empty already as I sat down to order their tandoori lunch set. I wanted to nap right then and there, again, but that would be kinda awkward, and I needed to get to the Capital.
Feeling somewhat cranky because I couldn't get my nap in (nappers know how it is) I crossed through Otsu station to start the hilly trek to Kyo. This final segment lies in a narrow valley, and had me walking alongside the Keihan Rail and taking delight in seeing the trains chug right beside old houses, oftentimes separated by only a metre. Had me thinking that maybe walking on that tiny shoulder by Yaizu was nothing compared to what the residents here experience daily. I don't know what it was, but walking through that valley made me feel full of wonder, unnatural even. It might be the mixture of the old and new. A single row of Showa-period houses nestled beside the railroad that guides the modern trains to and fro, plus the asphalt road lying parallel, add to that a pair of old-timey steel arch bridges, an imposing power transmission tower and an array of overhead cables. Somehow they all sit in balance together; it's not chaotic. And, why are the single row of houses there anyway? You could move several kilometres to a town and not be crowded along a bunch of infrastructure that blows past you every few minutes.
But this is also exactly what I love about unplanned trips to "nowheres", the sense of discovery, the surprise, that I find so entrancing. Highly planned and researched travel takes the fun out of it, akin to reading about spoilers to a movie that you're about to watch. On that same note, it's also why I don't show the same excitement for most North American cities. The grid pattern was laid down as the groundwork of modern cities, and their car-centric nature eliminates most of the zigzags, crisscrosses, mishmashes, curlywurlies, squiggly-wigglies, whimwhams that I absolutely relish getting lost in. Furthermore, the banalities of urban sprawl that is baked into many such cities take away so much character that they may as well be carbon-copies of one another.
Anyway, where was I? Right, the single-row buildings — houses, mechanics, small shrines — that are interspersed between a mountain and the lifeline of commuters, maybe they're the remnants of the bygone era, before these settlements got carved up in the name of modern efficiency. By the time I got past thinking about all that nonsense, at Oiwake station the valley opened up into a small town, where I heard a voice calling out for someone. Calling out to me, actually, as a road-construction worker asked where I was going. All the way to Kyoto by the Tokaido. He offered directions, stating that's the long way as it goes south and is really a detour, better to take the underground tunnel up ahead and walk the local road. Of course, I took his advice, because it's just smart. The man's a road-construction worker for crying out loud. The route he put me on turned out to be the Old Tokaido anyway, so thank you, man-in-neon-vest!
The prefectural border between Shiga and Kyoto crosses Yamashina, a quiet and pleasant community just a hop away from both Kyoto and Otsu. A few (hundred) steps west of Oiwake station on the Old Tokaido will stand a small and discreet road sign marking your entry into the city of Kyoto. Except I didn't take another step over the border; I slowed, stopped, snapped a photo to celebrate, collected my feelings, all the while looking like an absolute twit hovering around this steel pole. Though in my defense, it was quite the trek to come across this sign. It's a bit of an indescribable feeling, maybe a bit like when I found out I passed all my courses in my final semester of university (engineering school drop-kicked my ass), or going on my first trip as a solo traveller. Every few steps into Kyoto I saw more and more hints of the capital seeping through; the fancy izakayas, cafes, restaurants, hair salons, and even a Daimaru department store. Yeah, I'm in Kyoto alright.
Before actually getting into the heart of the Old Capital, there still was a hill range sitting between me and my goal. At the tail of Yamashina, the Old Tokaido merges into Sanjo-dori, one of the main historic streets occupied by countless shops — a fact that remains unchanged since its ancient past, and will probably stay that way into our cybernetic, flying-car future — that the Sanjo-Ohashi resides. The bridge that marks the end of the 53 Stations of the Tokaido! I feel like a single exclamation mark cannot properly convey my feelings at the time, but you make do with words and correct use of punctuation.
Past the hills, Sanjo-dori places you squarely in the northern tip of Higashiyama ward. Surprisingly, this area is all new to me even though my previous Kyoto visits amount to several weeks in total. In Higashiyama, I've only been to the central area where it draws the most tourists, me included. It evidently shows, even for a small city, with deep historic roots layered every which way you're bound to experience something new in this city. No wonder Kyoto is packed to the gills with tourists — all day, every day.
Leaving that analysis behind, the crowds gradually grew, and with it, both cheerful and depressive feelings. Cheering, because I'm finally there. Depressing, because this adventure will soon end. But in the end, the balance teetered to the "WOoooah it's happening!" side as I saw the bright orange torii gate of the Heian Shrine standing stately, welcoming me to its vibrant city. Finally the balance was set when I started recognizing the streets I've visited in my previous trips, leading me to the Sanjo-Ohashi. At that moment I heaved a heavy, deeply heavy, sigh. And rather than my body lightening as I expected it should, it felt weary, realizing that it's been constantly on the move, walking for 26 or so days. But I took no heed, and smiled my most sincere smile, not really knowing how I should be feeling, though taking it all in anyway. Ecstatic for the goal, sweet-tooth-achy for conbini pastries, crestfallen that it's ending, and probably a little farty — because, everyone gets a little farty — I opened the floodgates and let it all flow through. You know the feeling when you finish a really good movie and you sit there watching the entire credits roll? Stood there, by the bridge for half an hour, watching and appreciating the scenery as well as the fact that nothing truly went wrong during the whole journey. Three fun-filled weeks of urban-hiking the Tokaido, from the modern to the ancient capital, a route that I shared with the people of premodern Japan. Truly a journey back in time.
