Hokkaido is not only a pumpkin

Hokkaido is the second largest and northernmost island in Japan. It actually has something to do with the pumpkin, because that’s where it comes from.

This is roughly the route I took. The most important key points:

A : New Chitose Airport
5 : Cape Soya, the northernmost point of Japan
6 : Abashiri
10 : Lake Toya, one of the most beautiful places for me
12 : Futoro and the next few kilometers, magnificent coastline
B : Hakodate: Harbor – Sayonara Hokkaido

I first had to get used to Japan, and to the Japanese in general. I knew that they tend to keep their distance and leave you in peace. I was actually looking forward to it – I didn’t want to experience the hustle and bustle around me like in Africa again. But then it was the other extreme.

After I had collected all my luggage and bike intact, I looked for a quiet spot outside the airport building to assemble my bike. Just as I had unpacked everything and laid it out nicely, a security guard came and told me that this was not allowed here. Something like this had never happened to me before in the whole world. I had to transport my bike in pieces a hundred meters further around the corner and take the box a hundred meters in the other direction to the garbage containers. I didn’t realize at the time that these would be the only publicly accessible garbage cans for the next few weeks.

While I was assembling my bike, nobody took any notice of me. Everyone just walked past, not giving me a glance. OK.

What I hadn’t expected was that it would be dark by 5 pm. I reached the assembly point in case of disasters, where you can camp for a small fee, just in time. It was only about eight kilometers from the airport.

On my journey to Sapporo the next day, I felt like a ghost. I see everyone, but no one sees me. No one looks at me, let alone greets me.

My first stop was an outdoor store in Sapporo to buy some cartridges and small items. I met a Belgian cyclist there. We were both delighted to finally have someone to talk to. He had been in Japan for a while and said he hadn’t been in contact with anyone for over a week.

I spent my night outside Sapporo on the beach, where you are officially allowed to camp.

At first I was the only one, then a very young British cyclist arrived, who was probably not yet so experienced in bike touring. I helped him put up the tent and showed him how his stove worked. It was already windy in the evening. I wondered whether his tent would hold up if it got stronger later on.

The foxes came first. I always have a bad feeling when it rustles by the tent. When I looked out, a fox was stealing my food and a shoe. I got the shoe and most of the food back. I had to defend it for another hour because more and more hungry foxes kept coming. They couldn’t have been Japanese because they scattered my bin bag everywhere.

After the foxes finally calmed down, the storm started with heavy rain showers. At first I heard the British man’s tent flapping violently, then suddenly it was quiet.

When the rain had calmed down, I took a quick look outside. The tent was fastened flat to the ground with bicycle panniers and there was no sign of the cyclist. He had spent the night in the lavatory.

That was one of the worst nights right at the start. The others were not so spectacular.

There are various cycle routes on Hokkaido. Although I hadn’t planned it, I found myself on one again and again. The first was No. 7, which has an incredible number of tunnels between Sapporo and Rumoi that are just over three kilometers long. For me, with my tunnel phobia, this was a major disaster. Because it is an official cycle route, I was allowed to ride there. There were also signs telling car drivers to watch out for cyclists. Then the Japanese tunnels are, with a few exceptions, very well lit and there is a fresh air supply – but it is extremely loud. Instead of a “whispering surface”, they have a “ screaming surface”. A motorcycle is as loud as a tank.

After Rumoi there is only one more tunnel, but there are more hills and beautiful views of Rishiri, the mountain on a nearby island, and the national park.

I had just got used to the unusual behavior of the Japanese when, on the morning of the fifth day, a motorcyclist wished me a good journey. Joy – that lifts the mood straight away.

By the way, the campsites here are mostly official, free sites or don’t cost five euros. However, there are usually no showers. Instead, there are often onsen, the hot baths in Japan. There are a lot of them on the west coast, so I cycled very short stages for the first few days, around 50 kilometers. That was very relaxing.

In the evening, an older Japanese man asked me where I came from. We even had a little chat. It’s so good. The young Japanese cyclist camped next to me didn’t even look over.

At a viewpoint, a young Japanese woman spoke to me in very good English. That amazed me. We had a real conversation. When she told me that she lived in the USA and was visiting her family here, I understood a lot.

After a week, I got used to the distanced Japanese, the many tunnels, all the plastic and the lack of garbage cans. I’m always told to take my garbage home with me.

I don’t want to know what they say at the border when I try to enter Germany with four months’ garbage.

And something else is absurd. There are vending machines everywhere with hot or iced drinks that consume a lot of electricity, or heated toilet seats and popo showers. Charging your cell phone battery anywhere is strictly forbidden.

What is excellent are the numerous clean toilets and the drinking water. You can also always find something to eat. Even salads, wrapped in plastic of course.

Always with a view of the Rishiri, I cycled relaxed to Wakkanai, the northernmost town.

It was my first time at a campsite that cost something. I was absolutely amazed. Not even five euros, but facilities with showers, everything nicely made of wood with shelves in the cabins, free Wi-Fi, kettle and microwave in the lounge, and – hard to believe – power sockets! I had a great time.

And then the last stretch to Cape Soya, the northernmost point of Japan. Here I was a little embarrassed by my overly German behavior. There was a lot going on.

Many motorcyclists wanted to have their photo taken in front of the monument. Japanese people always line up in order. But it wasn’t always possible with a motorcycle. When I thought it was my turn now, I said so. Whereupon everyone laughed and even offered to take my photo. I was embarrassed because I realized that it would have been their turn before mine.

From here on, I only headed south. As I had a nice tailwind to the north, I was expecting the worst. Surprisingly, I was spared the headwind.

I didn’t find the east side of the island so exciting. It looks more like home here: lots of agriculture, forests and hills. There is a large plain before it goes into the mountains. But you also have several parallel roads to choose from and there aren’t so many tunnels. There are also fewer campsites here.

Once I had to do without my tent as camping was not allowed. Instead, there were two discarded train carriages available: a lounge and a sleeping car.

Real luxury! There was also free Wi-Fi and power sockets. That night it was raining and storming, so I was better off on the train, even though I had to share the sleeping car with five Japanese people, one of whom was snoring.

I didn’t want to go any further south than Abashiri with its wonderful lake.

It gets very nice, but the bears know that too. Just before hibernation they are very active.

Instead I cycled into the mountains, on tar, of course. The bears don’t seem to like car traffic that much either.
It was quite busy, at least at the beginning. That’s why I was quite surprised when I realized that I was on an official cycle route (no. 6).

I would like to know the criteria by which the Japanese choose the cycle routes.

The higher you went, the less traffic there was. And then there was the “slower traffic lane”, to which I definitely belonged.

Then something happened that I hadn’t expected at all: A large, black SUV stopped diagonally in front of me, the window went down and the passenger handed me a banana! Thank you very much!

After the Sekihoku Pass at 1050 meters, it could have gone down nicely.

Unfortunately, there were a lot of potholes and the longest tunnel so far of about four kilometers. Very unpleasant.

The Sounkyo National Park with its many waterfalls starts right after that. My legs refused to do any more activities; climbing stairs to a viewing platform was no more possible.

Luckily, the campsite was a few kilometers further on.
The next day I had a nice run. But not at first on the cycle path, which ran through the forest and had a sign right at the beginning saying “Beware of bears”. I preferred to take the road with the trucks.

Once I was further down out of the forest, I was able to enjoy the cycle path again.

Then came the first real day of rain. So far, it had mainly rained during the night. Now it really started. So I cycled more or less in the rain along the wonderful gorge of Kamuy Kontan on the Ishikari River. This is where the battle between the demon and God took place. Very impressive even in the rain.

Unfortunately, the cycle paths are not well maintained. I often cycled through dense vegetation or, as here, softly on moss.

One of the funniest campsites was “Laugh Tales” in the Yuni area.

It was lovingly decorated with lots of manga characters. You can immediately sense that you are in Japan.

In Chitose, I came full circle. I had landed here three weeks earlier. Now I didn’t cycle to Sapporo, but headed southwest on a great cycle path that led me directly to Lake Shikotsu.

I had read that the campsite there was very popular, especially at weekends. It was Sunday and I assumed that the campers were all leaving now. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case.

What I didn’t know was that Monday was a public holiday. September 23, the equinox, is a public holiday in Japan. It was more crowded than any other campsite so far. At first they wouldn’t let me camp without a reservation. Moving on was not an option after the exhausting day, especially as I didn’t know when the next campsite would be. In the end, I was allowed to camp behind parked cars on a patch of grass. I could still see the mountains, as long as they weren’t covered in clouds.

I had a fantastic view the next day when I cycled around the lake and was able to admire the whole thing from up in the mountains.

The next campsite was at Lake Toya. Here the campsite was more like the one I’m used to. There was still enough space and I had an excellent view of the lake and the mountains.

This campsite didn’t have a shower either, just like the previous ones. Here, however, the onsen, one of the Japanese hot baths, was right next door. What a relief! I was not only clean afterwards, but also very relaxed and tired.

There was a lot of traffic around the bay of Uchiura heading south. All the traffic here is heading south. For me, that was a good reason to cycle over the mountains to the west coast.

What a pleasure! Not only were the roads empty, but the lava rock formations were also very impressive.

And back over the mountains to Hakodate,

from where my ferry took me to Oma on Honshu.

During the three weeks on Hokkaido, I also got to know a different side of the Japanese and got used to Japanese customs and traditions. They don’t take it against me if I behave differently. It’s more of a reason for them to laugh. That’s fine with me.

Next time we’ll continue on Honshu.