Date

2022-10-20, Thursday

Distance

70.04 km (562.82 km in total)

Here in Cape Soya, the northernmost point of Japan, everything and everywhere claims to be the northernmost: school, restaurant, bus stop, shinto shrine, etc, and even the vending machine!

We woke up a little after 5 a.m. to catch the sunrise, packed up, and warmed ourselves with a hot bowl of miso soup and coffee. The view of the sunrise is quite spectacular. Even during the early hours at dawn, sporadic visitors keep coming to photograph or be photographed with the monument. I can’t imagine how many people there usually is during the day. The fact that there are 3 public toilets nearby — two down the hill facing each other, one up on the hill — gives hint at the popularity of this place.

We also tried the local specialty — scallop ramen — at Japan's northernmost restaurant. After painting two promptly designed posters that state our goal to bike across Japan, we went to mail some unused stuff back home at the post office — of course, the northernmost one. These objects include a camera lens, short sleeve shirts, things that will only be used in Taiwan, and painting tools. We naively thought that we could do some sketches and/or watercolour paintings at the end of a ride or during the rest days — wrong! There is absolutely no leisurely time for this activity, for once the night falls and our ride is done, all that we want to and still have the energy to do is eating, taking showers, and sleeping. So for now, camera remains the best companion for a travelling artist.

It was nearly 9:30 a.m. by the time we finally hit the road. The coastal roads of Hokkaido are absolutely stunning. Step off the shoulder and you are right at the sea — clear shallows, rocky reefs, and shifting waves. Seagulls and eagles glide overhead or float gently on the water’s surface. It’s breathtaking.

We were directed by Gooogle Map to a small village called Onishibetsu looking for a pharmacy where I could buy some pain relief cream or medication for my knee pain. We were surprised to learn that the pharmacy no longer existed and after many attempts at communication, I ended up in the hospital being seen by a medical doctor who could speak English. He gave me ‘that look’ when hearing that after I had fallen from my bike, I rode another 300 km in pain to finally seek for medical help.

My tolerance threshold for physical discomfort seems to be higher than that of average people. I can endure pain, hunger, thirst, physical fatigue, etc. to a larger extent than what ordinary people could possibly tolerate. This is both an advantage and disadvantage. I was able to accomplished two multi-months bike tours thanks to this attribute, yet at the same time I often push myself to the very limit that can be life-threatening — for instance, I nearly lose consciousness in the Prairies due to hypothermia.

Biking with others, I think, makes me listen more carefully to my body. I am enjoying it.

My injury is nothing serious. There is no break, I can stand up (thus push most of body weight on my knees), walk more or less normally. It only hurts when I bend my knee to a large degree — therefore pedalling causes pain. The doctor ordered rest, saying it will heal by itself quickly if I don’t bike 90 km a day.

This prescription is well nigh impossible for me to observe, in that winter is coming, I need to leave Hokkaido as soon as possible. For this reason I am considering getting a lift to Nerumo or from Nerumo to Hakodate, but the likehood for getting such a lift in Japan is really improbable for two reasons. One, Japanese cars tend to be too small for two people plus two bicycles. So far the most common type of semi-trucks I have seen on the road only has two seats. Two, hitchhiking doesn’t seem to be very common in this part of the world. The odds for me to find someone willing who has the right vehicle are very low.

Hence, the solution we came up with is to reduce the hours spent on the saddle for the moment until I no longer feel knee pain. For the next few days to possibly weeks, we will travel at a slower pace. Luckily, according to weather forecast, it’s not getting much colder too soon.

Another medical doctor saw my Canadian flag on my bike and came to speak to us. He doesn’t seem to speak much English but was so nice that he said he had ‘medicine’ for us. While we were expecting things ranging from pain relief cream or energy gel, he brought us a tons of 500-yen coins to use when we need. This is really good medicine! Honestly, we were floored by his generosity and warmth.

At night we went back to camp in the companion of countless lousy piggy swans that squawked all night in Hamatonbetsu.

The full take — 29 more photographs from this day