page 2
by Jan Boonstra
10.07.93.
There are many cyclists in Japan. And they cycle on the sidewalk.
That's compulsory in Japan. It's unbelieveble how pedestrians
and cyclists use the same space for moving along. In busy streets
it's very annoying. You have to make sharp turns to follow
the sidewalks and cross the street at pedestrian crossings. It makes
for very slow progress and that's frustrating for somebody like me who likes
to see 30 km/h on his speedometer. And then, there is something
that doesn't agree with my European attitude to traffic rules:
the Japanese are utterly disciplined. Cyclists and
pedestrians stop for every red traffic light, even in narrow streets
when there is no traffic. Today I had to travel through a large built-up area, so
I made little progress.
In Kitakyushu I parked the bike somewhere (you can leave your baggage
without having to be afraid that it will be stolen!) and went shopping
on foot.
shops in Japan are fascinating
It was past two o'clock before I could see some green fields and woods, but it remained busy and soon after leaving one town, I entered another. Tired of all that stopping and moving along I sat down on a rock and drank an apple juice from a beverage machine. I consulted my map (I found a very good one) and wondered what to do. My speedometer showed a pathetic "8.9" as my average speed and I had yet another big city in front of me: Fukuoka with more than 1 million inhabitants. How many more traffic lights did I still have to endure? I could not go around the city because of a high mountain ridge and I decided to carry on until after the densely populated area, in order to make a fresh start tomorrow.
Cautiously I started to cycle a little more on the main road, so that I made more progress with less hassle. From time to time I saw Japanese cyclists doing the same and that put my mind at ease. Thus I passed through the centre of Fukuoka rather quickly. I even saw one or two cyclists ignoring red lights and that made the Japanese seem more human to me.
Finally I arrived in Maebaru, a town that I had picked as my destination for
the day. I reached for my notes of my few words of Japanese for
help to look for a place to sleep. I uttered "Ryooka?" which means
a simple Japanese style hostel to passers-by, but nobody understood
what I was looking for.
One or two people suggested to me to go to the police station
when I made it clear that I wanted somewhere to sleep. To me, this
seemed odd, but I followed their advice and went to a police
station. And I must say, the police were very helpful. They made
numerous phonecalls, they consulted yellow pages, tourist guides,
maps. But the bottom line was that there was nothing available
in Maebaru. At least, that is what I understood when one officer
called in a friend, who spoke a few words of English.
At last they found something 5 km away which was rather expensive,
but I left the policestation grateful and happy, carrying a small note
with a sketch and the names of the hotel and the village. It was
getting dark and I put the front and rear lights on the bike.
The hotel owner was waiting outside for me when I appeared, asking
"Ah, Oranda? Police Maebaru?" Yes, that was me.
The room that I got was beautiful, completely decorated in a Japanese style with delicate earthware and fine decorations on the walls. There was no bed or chair, only some soft mats to sleep on. Behind paper doors there appeared to be a veranda, with a wonderful seaview. The mountains formed a rugged black silhouette against the red evening sky and the sea gently broke on the rocks, some 15 meters below. I was glad that I had bought some food on the way, so that I didn't need to go out anymore. I felt wonderful, sitting on my private veranda, enjoying the evening turning into the night. No hard feelings about the high price, it was well worth it. It was a shame though that I could only enjoy it for a short time.
