Goodbye winter, hello spring. Two days of wind and rain, the changing seasons battling it out around us as we cycled the islands of Iki & Shikanoshima. It seemed like spring was going to win, while we stripped into our white attire in preparation for a Misogi purification ritual in the wintry Kyushu sea.
My journey started with a short ANA propeller aircraft —always thrilling— flight from Komatsu to Fukuoka, before meeting up with my fellow Papersky Tour de Nippon cyclists at Hakata Port. Then a high speed —exciting— jetfoil boat ride to Iki island.
Car, aeroplane, bus, boat and now cycling our way towards the sea and purification. Our first stop was at morino cafe @ten where over a wonderful lunch of local delicacies we got to know each other a little more. As usual, Papersky brings together the adventurous from afar.
Rain, cycling and cycling in the rain were the topic for many conversations, sharing stories from our hometowns and homecountries of Indonesia, Singapore, Taiwan, China and across Japan.
Almost coming to a stop as the North Wind blew as hard as it could, but with rain in our eyes and smiles on our faces we persisted along the Iki coastline —Waves of volcanic rock formations on one side crashing seas on the other.
The road slowly brought us to the small fishing harbour Katsumoto and home to Island Brewery. Formerly a barley shochu brewery —Iki is famous for shochu— Island Brewery brings a fresh yet respectful new life to the atmospheric shopping street.
Some of us buy souvenir bottles of beer from their beautiful taproom —Golden Ale is popular and I can confirm it is delicious. Others squeeze into the local confectionery for freshly made Alps cakes —the lemon cake was also very good.
By this time we were wet and feeling a little cold. The winds were picking up so we collectively decided to call it a day, not before one final stop. Bikes abandoned, we took the heated —lovely— support car to Saruiwa (Monkey Rock).
What can I say? It’s a rock and there is no doubt it looks like a giant monkey sitting on the cliff edge, said to be “built by Gods to protect the island from the sea” —and beyond. With instagram, instagrammed —several different poses accompanying the monkey including bananas and puckered lips in mock monkey kisses— we headed back to Hirayama Ryokan for a well deserved bath.
Wet clothes off, Golden ale drank and into “one of the best old hot springs in Japan with a history of more than 1500 years” —it was delightful, especially after a full day of riding.
More Golden Ale on tap and the food —such food— amazing!
Sleep.
Wake.
The morning started early with a 6:30am bath —all to myself— followed by breakfast —all together— then sadly it was time to depart this lovely Ryokan. I must say, some of the most welcoming, kind and genuinely helpful hotel owners I’ve ever met. My request for extra vegetables less animals, Lucas’s no cheese or was it extra cheese, fulfilled along with all allergic requirements without blinking an eye.
Even our wet shoes were now dry —bubbling and instagramming our way out with countless thank yous and goodbyes.
Reunited with our bicycles on the island of Shika after two short ferry rides crisscrossing the bay.
Today we will ride the scenic coastal road once around the island —clockwise— stopping at a Shinto shrine; where we would find sakura and behold ancient relics, a grocery store called Hiro; to eat five types of seaweed and admire paintings, along with landmarks of historical significance; of what significance I don’t know because we would be idiotically instagramming, and finally Misogi; petrification by the sea —the freezing quite rough scary sea.
The other side of the island came all too quickly, before we had time to rethink we were changing into our ceremony clothes. White shorts and white t-shirt, bought online just two days before, because it was only two days before that I realised I would be walking into the sea.
I had my reservations, but never once doubted I wouldn’t follow the Shinto priest chanting into swash —it was an honour. Some of us hesitated, some —a surfer— dove straight in, others took their time until finally submerged themselves under the crashing waves. The scene was excitingly chaotic for most, but the priest calmly crouched with only his head above the water repeating prayers for us all.
The rain stopped and the sun shone on the golden sand.
The walk along the shoreline was cold, the sea breeze stung our bare skin -8˚C before wind chill— and the water may have been single digits cold. What followed was unexpected, as we returned to the beach, a euphoric sense of tingling warmth and well-being inside and across the body; across all bodies.
We were as one with each other and as one with the sea, the island and every living thing. All interconnected and smiling with childlike wonder as we ambled warmly from the beach into the nearby onsen —purified.
Things can sometimes become disconnected as we navigate our busy lives. Instagram can sometimes be a helpful substitute, but there’s nothing like a shared experience to reconnect us not only to each other but the natural world we live in. Physical connection and community are utmost; something we shouldn’t put off or make excuses for avoiding. I say embrace them, take a chance, sign up for a group cycling weekend or follow a priest into the winter sea.
It will only make you more creative and caring, bringing us together in the selfsame magical mystery of life and living things —that should be conserved.
Goodbyes became difficult, hugs shared between nations and waving hands from the dock until we could see each other no more —as the ferry transported us home.
…and so it goes,
James
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