Return to Bike Touring

It was now officially time to bid goodbye to Osaka.  As we ate our burritos at El Zocalo, I felt like a thief, a damn liar, and worst of all, a guy who hangs around the high school well after graduation.  We had already bid fond, tearful farewells to our friends (and the friendly staff of El Zocalo) eight months before when we left our jobs, our apartment and our lives in Osaka.  There were final nights out at karaoke, dinners, parties, and promises to have more fun on our return in December.  Then, after our California adventure, we made a triumphant return to Osaka just in time for Christmas.  We tore up the town and were met with warm wishes, lots of drinks, and free lodging from all of our friends.  Tearfully, we wondered why we ever left, and celebrated for two weeks with karaoke, dinners, parties, and promises to have still more fun on our return in March (and nostalgic burritos).

March came quickly, and once again we were greeted warmly by our friends, who still wondered aloud why we ever left, if slightly less enthusiastically than before.  Karaoke, etc., and great fun with great people, but that reality started to set in as we were spotted yet again in El Zocalo, explaining to the staff that, yes, we did go back to America and no, we still don't live in Osaka, we're just...passing through town kinda often.

Now it was the end of April, and our fifth time in Osaka since leaving the country eight months before.  Five burritos in eight months was a bit low for our average, but still enough to feel that we had never left.  By now, our oldest friends in Japan had left for other cities, other countries, and here we were again, having a blast, visiting with some amazing people, but wondering not why we ever left but if in fact we ever did.  It was time to get back on the road.

We have until June 4th to, in visa terms, gtfo of Japan before being tossed out by our collars and the seats of our pants.  In that time, we wanted more cycling, more WWOOFing, and no mountains.  We would get two of these three.


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This time, we would be crossing central Honshu the only way we could: pushing our bikes up more damn mountains.  After revisiting Takarazuka and, eventually, Tottori, we would follow the northwest coast of the island to Hamada, where we intend to WWOOF at some kind of artist's village/cafe/campground/organic farm.  From there, it's a quick (hopefully) ride to Shimonoseki, where we'll hop a ferry for Korea just ahead of the expiration of our visas at the beginning of June.  From there, we bike and WWOOF in Korea until our jobs (TBD) start up, when this blog will transmogrify back into an account of the day-to-day struggles of EFL teachers dealing with wacky students and cross-cultural kerfuffles.

There is, unfortunately, a dearth of information about biking across Honshu, so we've had to put together our own itinerary.  Google Maps is happy to plan out our route for us so long as we pretend that we're a car, which, despite the fact that we have four wheels, brakes, and several hundred pounds of attitude, we are not.  Will our sticktoitiveness and notgiveupedness carry us across this country?  Only time will tell.  Also, we have Clif Bars.

We left town after only a weekend in Osaka, stopping only to rest, tune up our bikes, and spend time with the inimitable Ellie Streichholz: