James’ hierarchy of different modes of transport:
Last place: airplanes, and then buses (I mean are those things ever reliable?), cars (ok I admit they’re fun to drive), ferries, trains, feet and first place (big surprise) bicycles. And whilst this hierarchy remains universally true for most places, Japan’s transport system has some quirks that constantly make me question whether trains should be at the top or bottom of this list. The bullet trains here are fast and feel oddly futuristic, yet at the same time retro – I think it’s the carpeted, wide seats that make me feel like I’m in a first-class section of a Pan-Am flight in the 1980s. The local trains are so so so very quiet, so very clean, yet often extremely crowded, squishy and stressful. But the one definitive thing trains are not in Japan, are social. It’s common etiquette to take up as little space as possible and emit as few decibels as possible, making one’s train journey, one of solitude. But cycling is different: it’s open and wide, it’s de-stressing and most importantly it can be a real social activity.
So for this ride in our BESV series, I’ve asked founder and creative director of Knee-high Media, Lucas, to join me on a little loop around Tokyo.
Lucas does not own a smartphone. It’s something I deeply admire about him. He’s more conscience about his hours on Instagram and when he pulls out his iPad to take a photo, its considered. This means that I, as an avid doom-scroller and Instagram-junkie iPhone user, will be the navigator for today’s journey. The day starts with a freshly-made bagel from ‘Bagel Standard’. Whether its curry, pasta, bread or coffee, Japan always has a way of interpreting food from other cultures and adapting them in a way that remains true to their origins and yet becomes distinctively Japanese. The Jerk Chicken bagel I devour is no different, chewy and salty, yet cutely small and beautifully presented with the perfect ratio of filling to bread. Lucas strikes up a conversation with the owner and she snaps this picture of us with our BESV bicycles.
BESV have kindly lent us two JGR 1.1’s, their latest e-gravel bike. It’s just as adept at bagel-deliveries as it is off-road cycling (which will come in handy when we traverse the Tama River later on).
We make our way south into Shinagawa. The buildings here are tall, typical for such a business district. The landscape creates harsh winds that hit the top of the skyscrapers and tumble their way down, bashing passing pedestrians and cyclists. In Japanese this is aptly called ‘biru-kaze’ or ‘building wind’. We find refuge in ‘Unplugged coffee stand’, a speciality coffee shop in an odd-shaped building. Lucas and I opt for a hot double-shot latte, a building-wind cure-all and we take a moment to look out over the city and discuss how it’s changed over the years we’ve been there.
Just a ten minute cycle from ‘Unplugged’ is Oi Racecourse. On the weekends the car park is filled with knick-knacks without a single horse in sight. The flea market here is one of the biggest in Tokyo, but it’s not the size that makes me love this place, it’s the people. The sellers here are real characters, and so too are their wares. For a city that is so often seen as ‘refined’ and ‘fashionable’ it’s a breath of fresh air to see piles of electronic junk on a blue tarpaulin, next to piles of vintage hammers, next to the most unfashionable, gaudy pink sweater you’ve ever seen. It’s a voyeuristic, eclectic mess in the middle of one of the most well organized cities in the world. It’s amazing.
Lucas and I take our time strolling around, pointing out objects and discussing their possible origins. We both laugh at the ‘Bluetoo’ sign, clearly missing a letter or two.
Head further south from the racecourse and cross over the Tama river and you’ll arrive at Kawasaki Daishi Temple.
The street leading up to the temple is full of small shops, with an overwhelming presence of Daruma dolls and Manikineko. Lucas spots an interesting looking mochi stall, so we take a break to replenish our sugar levels.
So often people talk about Umami, freshness or presentation when it comes to Japanese food, but I think one of the most distinct facets of Japanese food is the range of textures you can find. Japan does not shy away from textures that others might find unappealing. Even the Japanese vocabulary has a multitude of words to describe certain textures that are difficult to describe in English. This mochi can only be described as ‘torotoro’, a mixture of sticky and syrupy and yet maybe a bit slimy (but not at all in a bad way).
Bellies full, we head back up to the Tama river. Many of the roads are unpaved, which would usually require me to pick up my fixed gear bike (the one I usually ride) and carry it over the terrain. Luckily the BESV team thought ahead and gave us gravel bikes with thick tires and disc brakes, and for the first time in a long time I’m actively looking for small hills and bumps in the road to ride over.
The sun is slowly setting and the sports fields adjacent to the river are slowly emptying. We make great time on the dedicated bike path, chatting the whole way completely unfazed by traffic as there is not a car in sight. This type of cycling is the best, completely free and in the zone, chatting with a cadence that matches your cycling movements and making kilometres with what feels like zero effort.
We reach our final destination in no time at all. ‘Punk Doily’ is a tiny pie and coffee stand located on the rooftop of a church. Having grown up in Australia, the glow of the pie warmer is instantly nostalgic. Although the lamingtons and ‘snot blocks’ (Australian slang for custard cake) are outside of the pie warmer, they give off a glow of their own. Lucas and I chat about the day behind and about the weeks ahead. Pie in one hand, lamington in the other, we overlook the Tokyo skyline and take a moment to appreciate the effortless clash of two cultures (mirroring that of my own background) and it makes me feel at ease. Lucas has the iPad out to take a considered photo as I map the way back home.
