Tuesday 2 September 2008

Sept. 1, 2008 From The Road: Dopey and Dosy in Shimonoseki

01 September 2008
I haven't been thinking about much apart from making it to my scheduled destination daily. Yesterday i reached Shimonoseki. It's like the Land's End of Honshu separated by a few hundred meters of water from Kyushu. It's a lovely place, and I've taken great pleasure watching the ships and boats going up and down the strait from the window of the youth hostel. There's a lovely view of the bridge connecting Honshu and Kyushu. It's spitting distance really. I can't believe how close it is. It's my rest day today, and I'm wandering around, spending time on my feet and off the bike. A definite requirement before tackling the mountains of Kyushu. I'm a little nervous about Kyushu. The same nervous feeling I had when I began a month ago. Not fear. Nerves because I don't know what to expect apart from what I can see from my map and schedule. I know there are big mountains for most of my route down through the centre of the island. More on that when I get there, yeah.

The days before arriving here have been about really roughing it because many campsites have closed for the season. Some of you may well know the summer holidays are over. So is the camping season despite the fine weather. I've been getting to campsites to find them closed, unavailable to any other people except people in cars, or both. In Masuda-shi a few days ago I rolled in asking around for campsites as usual. Nothing doing. Everyone I spoke to said Masuda has no campsites. Then, while standing at a red light wanting to go to the sento (public bath), a bloke came up to me to ask about the trailer. Yuma works as a receptionist in Tokyo. On holiday for a week, he has come south, riding the trains and enjoying the post school holiday rush. We chatted for a bit on the side of the road when he pulled out a map and showed me the campsite. No scale. He himself was kicking himself for checking into a hotel before seeing the place on the map. The directions were sketchy. I went past the turning on a route heading out of town and decided to ask a couple of guys enjoying a smoke and coffee behind a pile of milk crates. Who better to ask than a couple of guys behind milk crates? That was a brilliant idea. It turns out that they are the local milk delivery service and have very comprehensive maps and factory fitted GPS brain unit. They drew a detailed map showing the way to the campground at Manyo Park atop a hill. Top guys. It was dusk by now and they were worried about me not finding the place. Assuring them the map was good, I headed off. There were definitely worried, because a few minutes later car stopped beside me. It was one of the milkmen checking to see if I was OK. Then the other milkman came along on his motorbike riding with me up the hill to the campsite. Another case of people making sure I can get to the end of the ride safely.

By now it was 19h30ish, dark, and campsite closed. Nobody around. I snuck in to find a family camping there for the night. They made some calls to check whether I could setup there for the night. Nope, the bloke on the other end of the line said it was past the closing time, and suggested I go to Hagi, some 56km away. There are campsites there. Either I was being obtuse by thinking that he was crazy, or he really was crazy. I setup in a park nearby. Washed myself in the basin using my onsen towel and camping pot. The camping pot has many uses. About one in the morning I could feel a light being shone in my face, and a deep voice saying good evening. It wasn't God. It wasn't a dream. It was a police patrolman. "Please leave early in the morning" he said. "Yeah, yeah, I'm heading out at 05H30" I mumbled, and straight back to sleep. How polite. I was out of there a few hours later heading off to Nagato.

A few km outside of Nagato is a lovely little campsite right by the sea. The folks there were closing up the place for the season, but after some deliberation allowed me to stay there for the night at my own risk. "Just make sure you don't burn the place down" they said. "Sure," I said, "it'll be here next summer". The only catch was no toilet and shower. They had locked and barricaded it all. "You can toilet and wash in the sea" they said. "Sure" I said. Nothing more liberating that bathing and toileting in a large body of water! Well, there were taps, an onsen towel and a camping pot. I used that to wash, and broke into the toilet climbing through a gap in the barricade and using a Y5 coin to turn the lock from the outside. I didn't break anything, I promise, but I forgot to lock the door the next morn. I was complete starkers while washing thinking i was the only one there, when suddenly the place turned into an evening walk for some of the locals. At first a few geezers pretending they hadn't noticed me, followed later by women who definitely noticed me. By this time however I was clothed and respectable, squatting at my stove making a meal. I've realised through living like this everyday that shame disappears. I couldn't be bothered. I'm homeless, jobless, and making my way day by day with what I have, and the goodwill of people I meet. I was however relieved to have a proper wash at the youth hostel after riding 86km in 38 degree heat. See the layer running into the drain.

It's so far been a very colourful experience. I mean that in a good way. Everyday a new place, new faces, new stuff. It's impossible for me to put it all here, but I will be writing about it after. Now however, I feel I should say something about how the charity work is going. The target of GBP1000 was reached and surpassed. To date there's GBP1300 (excluding some offline funds). I couldn't believe how quickly this amount was raised. From the beginning of this idea, everyone has been supportive and encouraging. Getting this far is a sign of that. Thus far it's been a steady process of meeting people and becoming friends, rather than putting a charity leaflet in their hands and disappearing down the road. I like the way it has been, comfortable and intimate. I know that each of the people I have met in the last month will in their own way help spread the word. I'm happy with the way this project has progressed and am glad that the awareness aspect has taken priority over the fundraising. As I said before, everyone has a unique way of contributing. I'm grateful for that.

I'm off to Kyushu tomorrow knowing that I have a spare day in the bag for when it's needed. I had counted 30 days in August when planning (silly, but happy). I realised this thanks to the chat with my dad the other day.
km 2456, rain, again. I'm hungry.