Date

2022-12-18, Sunday

Distance

74.06 km biked (3709.07 km in total)

Last night we pitched our tent in a small roadside park along National Route 3. It was bitterly cold. At dawn, stumbling half-asleep into a convenience store, I noticed the raindrops outside looked unusually thick. Wait… those were not raindrops. Snowflakes! Heavy, wet, and blown sideways by the wind. Within moments the air turned white, snow battering my cheeks until even pain disappeared beneath the numbness.

The blizzard was fierce but fleeting. The clouds rushed across the sky, tugged by invisible winds. One moment the sun shone bright over a glittering blue sea, the next the sky darkened, spitting out icy shards. When the winds fell still, the snowflakes seemed to hang suspended, tumbling in slow motion. Time itself felt warped — fast-forward, rewind, pause — as though the air had become visible with each breath of white mist.

This evening we threaded between coastal roads and mountain passes, trains rattling along the tracks beside us. The crashing surf kept rhythm with our pedals. With winter winds cutting through our jackets, this journey carried a frozen charm.

We finally stopped for the night at the roadside station in Imari, finding shelter beneath a wooden pavilion. To our delight, the place already had two residents — a pair of friendly stray cats. One was a bold tabby who demanded attention, the other a sleek black cat who watched us from a safe distance. Later, a third tabby appeared like a phantom, vanishing as quickly as it came. Their little den by the pavilion felt warmer just by their presence.

After dinner, as we returned to our tent, we noticed something unusual: another bicycle leaned against the pavilion. To our surprise, it was Tora, a fellow cyclist on his own grand adventure — already on day 213 of his Japan loop! The father we had met in Fukuoka hadn't been exaggerating after all. What were the chances that our paths would cross here of all places? We each pitched our tents side by side under the same roof, sharing stories with laughter, the cats darting in and out as though curious about this impromptu traveller’s camp.

Tomorrow, perhaps, a breakfast exchange is in order — nothing bonds strangers quite like hot coffee on a winter’s morning.