Date

2022-12-12, Monday

Distance

39.75 km biked (3480.08 km in total)

By 6 am, early morning hikers were already passing by our 'campsite' atop Daichiyama. Since our tent and bikes had completely taken over the pavilion, most of them hesitated to come too close, even if they just wanted to enjoy the view. During the time we were packing up, only two groups struck up conversation: a friendly Korean man who had immigrated to Japan, and a lively crew of middle-aged Kyoto aunties whose rich accents and contagious, cackling laughter gave us a hilarious and memorable start to the day.

After descending the mountain in the crisp morning air, we pedaled quietly through the slowly awakening streets of Uji and made our first stop at Ujikami Shrine — the oldest surviving Shinto shrine at its original location in Japan and part of the UNESCO World Heritage Sites grouped under the Historic Monuments of Ancient Kyoto. Its understated elegance — weathered wooden structures, a mossy stone path, and ancient trees — gave off a sense of timelessness. The shrine’s quietude offered a brief spiritual reset that felt worlds away from all the bustles we had travelled through in this country.

Just downstream, we visited Uji Shrine, often seen as the spiritual 'younger sibling' to Ujikami. Though smaller and more vibrant in color, it had a charm all its own. The shrine is known for its rabbit motifs, which symbolise good fortune and guidance — you will spot them on ema, omamori (charms), and even carved into the architecture if you look closely. At the time of our visit, we were the only ones there, making the experience feel almost private, like a secret shared between us and the guardian spirits of Uji.

Only after these quiet moments did we head onto Uji Bridge, its familiar span stretching out beneath the gaze of the ever-poised Murasaki Shikibu statue. The real reason we were so giddy to cross that bridge, though, was far nerdier: although to the average passerby, it’s just a bridge, for fans of Sound! Euphonium, it’s where many iconic scenes occur. I couldn’t resist taking off on my bike in a dramatic, Kumiko-style emotional dash across the span — minus the tears of course, but full of fan spirit. We (or I, rather) also fulfilled our pilgrimage wish to what's known as Kumiko's bench, now actually marked on Google Maps as such. To fans of the series, it’s the place where the main character so often sits to reflect and practises euphonium. In reality, it’s merely an ordinary worn-out wooden bench by the river, but sitting on it somehow made the fictional world feel just a little more real.

Since my friend had already visited Byodoin Temple a few years ago, she chose to take a rest at a nearby café while I explored this historical site alone. The winter sun cast a crisp, golden light across the temple grounds. The Phoenix Hall shimmered across the pond, its reflection so still and perfect that it looked like a scene held in breath. The garden, though subdued in its winter palette, carried a quiet elegance. But as I walked beneath the bare trellises, I couldn’t help but imagine how breathtaking this place must be in spring, when cascades of wisteria blossoms drape over the scene like veils of violet mist. Even in the absence of flowers, the space carried the echo of seasons past and the promise of beauty yet to come.

Our main tea pilgrimage in Uji was to Itohkyuemon where we enjoyed our breakfast, and to Nakamura Tokichi Honten, a traditional tea house whose products cannot be ordered online. It’s the kind of place you have to come to Japan for.

Tonight, we stayed at my friend's aunt's house — a huge relief, considering that trying to camp in Osaka is basically asking for trouble. Lodging is expensive, campsites are nonexistent, and it’s far too easy to end up somewhere sketchy. Thankfully, we had a safe haven waiting for us. Hallelujah!

Over dinner, we sat down to hammer out the next stage of our trip (i.e. rationally debating with slightly elevated voices). Due to the delay in Hokkaido, we had basically two choices in order to get to Okinawa on time: one, to bike an average of 100 km per day with no rest day until the end of the year; two, to cut our itinerary short. In the end, we agreed to trade money for time by taking a ferry from Osaka. After weighing our limited port options, we finally settled on Shinmoji in northern Kyushu as our landing point — and just like that, the next chapter of our adventure was set in motion.

The full take — 74 more photographs from this day