Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Japan Tour Day Two
@8:15 PM
Tokyo, Shinjyuku – Mt Takao@8:15 PM
60km
In the morning, I went to Tsukiji Fish Market, but only toured the touristy places. I am more interested in eating fish, not seeing them auctioned! The sushi, however, is not cheap. Being a typical Singaporean, I went to a shop with quite a bit of queue, ordering a sushi set costing 3500 yen. That is $50. The premium sushi I ate, however, was quite worth the price: sea urchin, two kinds of tuna (one appears to be tuna belly), a freshly killed prawn sushi, tamago, and a white fleshly fish.
This prawn is still moving when I took the picture.
See the long queue at the far end?
Outskirts of the fish market
(Kiasu-ness is not a uniquely Singaporean trait. At Fuji-yoshida, I saw a long queue for ramen at the store opening, with dirt cheap prices. It was raining, and half the queue had no form of shelter.)I left Tokyo late, starting off at 12 noon. It was a judgemental mistake as I had overestimated my ability to navigate and cover distances. Navigation today was especially terrible as I spent 2.5 hours of cycling, only to cover 15km. I got lost 5 times, and had to navigate my way out of mazes of housing estates by cycling in the direction of the sun. The original plan was to reach Doushi; forget that, I could barely even make it to Mt Takao! I was wondering where and how I should stay, but in the deepening twilight, I found an abandoned car park on the slope of the mountain. Why not? Says I, and promptly pitched my tent on the rock hard ground.
I made a second mistake in underestimating the weather. It was COLD. I couldn’t believe that I was only 60km away from Tokyo downtown. I cooked, but it was so cold that I did not even feel like slipping out of my sleeping bag to eat. I spent the night shivering. It did not help that the river was next to the tent, so cold air kept gushing down, following the flow of the river. Including the windchill factor, I estimate that it was maybe 8 degrees Celsius in the morning.
Some pictures taken when I was riding:
Officially, you cannot ride a bike on the pavements without these signs. Unofficially, it doesn't matter, because they are everywhere.
A lovely path sheltered by sakura trees in a housing district.
A random shrine in the middle of nowhere.
This river goes along the perimeter of the entire housing district of Nishitokyo. The houses and walkways are to the left, and the road is to the right.
Carparks in Japan look like this, with ticketing machines at the side. There seems to be nothing stopping the cars from just driving off without paying though.
Japan Tour Day One
@8:03 PM
Narita Airport - Tokyo, Shinjyuku@8:03 PM
So it was that I started out to Japan, somewhat apprehensively, despite my unconcerned facade. Let’s face it, who will not be at least a little frightened at the prospect? Going there alone, with only two weeks of mental and material preparation, a pitiful smattering of Japanese linguistics, with only a vague idea of where to go...
My parents will like to argue that I could have done more preparation. At least I could have booked my accommodation! However, the “on the move” planning style is very much a necessity, especially for bicycle touring. There are so many factors you have to consider as circumstances surface: rain, road conditions, terrain, personal fatigue, seasonal conditions... The very first day is already a proof of this, as I fundamentally changed the plan. Originally I was to take the train to Tokyo to store the bike box at Junying’s place, because I planned to use the bike box to transport the bike back to Singapore. However, I also knew that SIA might accept boxless bikes (which I confirmed at Changi Airport), so the box suddenly became a liability. I decided to abandon it at Narita, set the bicycle up at Narita, and cycle into Tokyo instead.
My first look at Japan
Setting up the bicycle
As I was about to discover, Japanese roads tend to have very narrow shoulders, and since most of the provincial roads have only two lanes, it became highly recommended to cycle on the pedestrian whenever possible to avoid the monster trucks that seem to be everywhere.
Narrow roads
My first meal! Miso Ramen at 420 yen!
En route to Tokyo
One of the primary problems of “on the go” planning eventually surfaced: I arrived in Tokyo late, very late, at about 5.30pm in Shinjyuku. There were no reservations made as I had planned to arrive early for a hostel spot (remember, I was supposed to take the train!). Since check-ins was only till 6pm, it essentially limited my accommodation options.
Junying’s room is a fantastic example of what not to do to your room. Dust was everywhere on the floor! Clumps of dust were gathered in the corners, under the bed, even on the door sill of the bathroom! Even now, I’m still quite stunned at the room’s conditions. No wonder she had been sick for two weeks.
I left my bike and luggage at her place, and packed up to find some accommodation elsewhere because I obviously couldn’t sleep in the same room as her. I eventually ended up in an internet cafe for 1780 yen for the night, sleeping in the reclining chair after rushing out an LPP application essay for NUS.
Bicycles parked for the night. The bike models are all the same city bikes.
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Melaka Trip Day Five
@12:01 AM
161209@12:01 AM
Kota Tinggi to Singapore
Distance: 64km, Time: 3:25 hrs
This was the final league of the journey. Memories of the disastrous attempt to pump the tires in Yong Peng remained fresh in my mind, and even though I knew that the tires were under-pressured, I refrained from tampering with them any further. The way it looked under load was truly alarming though.
The return home was, on paper, 40km, but it felt more like 20km before I saw the first signs of the immigration checkpoint.
Home sweet home! Singapore felt so small after Malaysia, and it felt so much more dangerous after experiencing the amiable friendliness of the Malaysian drivers, but it felt comfortable in the way only home can feel.
And so, it is with positivity that I concluded the journey. Unmistakably, it is one of the boldest attempts I have made, and certainly one of the most memorable trips of my life. It certainly served the purpose of preparing for Europe later next year, and it also overturned many negative impressions that were forced upon me by people attempting to dissuade my convictions. Malaysia is not as dangerous as many would imagine it to be, and conversations I have had with other cyclists have also reinforced that view.
For now, it is back to work, and back to the drawing board to plan the next great tour!
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Melaka Trip Day Four
@11:03 PM
151209@11:03 PM
Yong Peng to Kota Tinggi
Distance: 130km, Time: 7:00 hrs
This is the day of hellish days. It’s perhaps one of the worst days on bike that I have experienced.
I woke up from the hellish hotel, having spent a terrible and fitful night, aware of the difficult road ahead for me to Kota Tinggi, which I estimated on paper to be about 140km. Just when I was preparing to head off by pumping up my bicycle’s tire pressure, the distinctive hissing sound from the rear wheel informed me that the tire has punctured. That is number one.
I pumped it up, headed across the street to Shell petrol station to use the air pump machine. This was when I realised that the speedometer was not working as it ought to. The spinning of the wheels was not translated into recorded speed on the cyclocomputer, and I suspected that the emitter on the fork had run out of battery. Not 5km out of Yong Peng, I felt the rear wheel wobble, and the metal rim touched down on the asphalt road. I changed the tire, experiencing firsthand the heat of the intense morning sun due to the lack of shade, made worse by the heat radiating off the reddish clay soil by the road side. The passing trucks and cars from Yong Peng seemed to mock me in my helplessness. That is number two.
I reached Ayer Hitam without further incident, and proceeded to pump up the tire once again with the assistance of the equipment in omnipresent petrol stations. At a pharmacist (of all places) I found the correct battery model required to replace the one in the emitter, allowing the speedometer to work properly again. Later in Singapore, I learnt that this problem was not due to the battery, but due to the great distance between the emitter and the receiver, which caused problems for the speed transmissions. While I was leaving Ayer Hitam, I chanced upon a road sign that caused the beginnings of panic.
This picture doesn’t show it, but 1km back, the sign included “Kota Tinggi - 168km”. This sign was wrong, but I didn’t know it at that time; the signboard showed the distance as it was back when route 91 was not built, so it is the cumulative distance from Ayer Hitam to Kluang, to Mersing and to Kota Tinggi. However, I thought otherwise, that at the rate I was moving, I will take at least nine hours to cycle to Kota Tinggi. The panic really set in when, half an hour later, I punctured yet again.
This is number three. At this stage, I have only one spare tube left, meaning that I could afford only one more puncture. A detailed study of both the tire and the rim was concluded by the suspicion that the rim tape was at fault. Somehow, the tape covering all the rim holes was shifting about, exposing the holes, allowing them to puncture the inner tubes; the theory was later confirmed during lunch with a call back to a bike mechanic in Singapore. I still thought I had 8 hours of cycling left to reach Kota Tinggi, and fortunately, I rolled cautiously into the town of Kluang without any more punctures. The doubts were beginning to creep in: it was 1pm at Kluang, 8 hours left to cycle, and this mechanical problem threatening to derail the entire trip.
And manifested it did, 10km out of Kluang, at a comfortingly scenic location. This is the last and final puncture I can afford; any more punctures after this point meant that I will have to hitch a ride back to Singapore on the back of a vehicle, using whatever means I have. The one and only good news I had was that the distance to Kota Tinggi was not as long as I thought: it was only 80km away from Kluang, which roughly translated to 4 hours of cycling out of 7 daylight hours.
It was a gamble with the devil. Two choices were being debated in my head: firstly, to head back 10km to Kluang and hopefully find some way to repair the problem, with a view towards heading straight back to Singapore. Secondly, I could simply chance the danger, and go to Kota Tinggi just like this.
Desperate times called for desperate measures. I chose the latter, to continue despite all the problems. This meant that I had to find some creative way around the mechanical problem that had been plaguing me all day. At my disposal were a bunch of tape and tissues and only one spare tube.
First, I took everything off the rim, including the faulty rim tape itself. Here, you can see that I stuffed all the rim holes (used for installing the spokes) with tissue paper. In the chance that the tape moved again, the tissue paper will prevent the puncture by ensuring the tube does not poke into the empty space underneath.
Secondly, I put 3 layers of black tape on top of the rim. This acts as protection and a second layer of defence if the rim tape fails.
Lastly, I put the rim tape back on. The inner tube goes on top, covered by the tire itself.
It is hard to emulate the psychological stress I was under at this point in time. I had been put through everything possible short of an actual breakage somewhere, and the only thing left was for rain to fall, or the last tube to burst. Coupled with the accumulated physical stress over the past three days, I had impressed into the mind a mental image of me threading a knife’s edge between safety and disaster.
Some days back, this stretch of plantations had been burned to make way for new seeds. The smoke still lingered in the air, creating a smoky and irritable haze on the entire stretch of road overlooking the devastation.
40km from Kota Tinggi, it rained. In my haste to escape yet another impending disaster, luckily, I found this row of shops near a block of housing estates, where I found my first bike shop in Malaysia! It didn’t matter that they did not have the essential items to help me; they were the first sign of comfort the entire day. I had them slap on yet another rim tape just in case, but unfortunately, they under-inflated the tire.
The last 40 hilly kilometers to Kota Tinggi was a haphazard mix of dreaded anticipation (of another puncture), pain, fatigue and, strangely enough, amusement and contentment. Despite the terror, I guess I actually look forward to walking this knife’s edge, and you can say that I actively put myself into situations where there may be such an edge to walk along. The adrenaline pumping through the veins makes you feel alive as never before, and the fear gives life true direction, a powerful desire to fight on for survival. It is on the knife’s edge that life becomes simple, where the shades of grey are dispelled and all before you is cast into clear distinctions of life and death.
The Kota Tinggi hotel is awesome, the best of the lot at merely 27RM. Highly recommended.
Melaka Trip Day Three
@9:28 PM
141209@9:28 PM
Melaka to Yong Peng
Distance: 110km, Time: 6:20 hrs
This day started with poor planning on my part. I planned to go from Melaka to Muar; tomorrow would be from Muar to Ayer Hitam; thereafter it would be from Ayer Hitam to Kota Tinggi, and finally from Kota Tinggi to Singapore. I am still not sure how I came to the conclusion that I will end on Wednesday afternoon, it must have been the combination of fatigue and the late-night planning that caused the miscalculation. Regardless, this error was only found when I was cycling to Muar, so I had to make a rapid decision to head to Yong Peng instead, transforming an easy day’s ride to a tough, tough ride.
Before I left Melaka, I took full opportunity to explore the history and sights of the town, visiting their History and Ethnography Museum at the Stadthuys, formerly the official residence of the Dutch Governor. I remain quite a history enthusiast, a remnant from my old Catholic High days, and it was this history lover in me that became completely absorbed into what the museum has had to offer.
This looks suspiciously like a Gunblade from FFVIII.
The bombed out St. Paul’s Church on the top of the hill, featuring a bunch of tombstones and a peaceful touristy atmosphere.
The only cam-whore shot in my entire trip.
These guys still use classical typewriters, hawking their typing prowess to locals and tourists alike along the busy river side, directly across Christ Church.
With that relatively brief exploratory period, I left Melaka at about 1pm. As you may have read above, nearing Muar, I decided to push for Yong Peng instead in order to cover as much ground as I could, making a Wednesday return to Singapore possible even with a Kota Tinggi detour. One of my main motivations was not to backtrack and see old sights, visiting towns which I had already bypassed, hence the desire to push inland. Since I was pushing inland, why not try for Kota Tinggi? I was actually aiming for Ayer Hitam, but practicality informed me that I would probably never make it. Yong Peng it shall be then, even if there is nothing in the Lonely Planet guide about the town.
Once in Johor, I felt much more comfortable on the road even if the shoulders aren’t quite as wide as the Melakan highways. I just felt better surrounded by Johor’s village clutter and bustle, rather than in Melaka’s empty and distant spaces.
This is an example of Chinese hillside graves. Melaka apparently has a whole lot more of these on Bukit China, but I spotted this entire hill worth of graves near Muar too. If memory serves me, there is also another haul near Kluang, which I wasn’t in the mood to take a photo of. The Chinese built these graves into the hill as a shield against evil spirits approaching from behind, but they really use a lot of space to do this. Hill graves are not done anymore these days.
A random temple off the road, there is only a dirt track leading to it.
Agricultural peculiarities can be spotted if you know what to look out for. God knows how they managed to produce abnormally dwarfish coconut trees and oil palms, but it really does make picking fruits a hell lot easier for the locals. This is especially so for an entire plantation worth of the oil palms. I suspect what they did is to grow the plant midway, before cutting it down and rooting it again in another spot. The energy that would have been committed to growing vertically is instead spent extending another network of roots, thus producing the stunted heights seen here. Strangely enough, this practice is not commonly seen throughout Malaysia, and is relatively rare in commercial oil palm plantations.
Due to the time I left Melaka, I only reached Yong Peng at quarter to 8pm; the sky was dark, and the relief in seeing the town lights was palpable. However, the dusty little town has little in the way of comfortable, or even reputable, hotels, featuring a grand total of two seedy looking hotels situated in a small corner. Without much choice, I picked one after sounding out recommendations from the townsfolk, and paid 27RM for a room with an unworkable air conditioning and a sluggish fan. The cleanliness was suspect and the room smelt strange and musty.
I slept restlessly due to the heat of the room and the poor ventilation. A warning to all aspiring backpackers: never, never, never even think of staying in Yong Peng; hotels in Ayer Hitam not 20km away are much better.
