We woke up early, grabbed some breakfast pastries and coffee (not the free ones that I forgot had been offered at the rider house, as Meghan won’t stop chastising me for), and headed on our walking tour of the famous Hakodate sights. I won’t recall for you everything that we saw as it’s pretty much what everyone does in Hakodate – marina, morning market, churches, foreigner cemetery. I’ve often heard that Hakodate has a very different feel from many other towns in Japan but from our last, admittedly limited trip to Hakodate, I didn’t get that feeling. This time, I really saw the difference. Being one of the few and earliest port towns in Hokkaido, the architecture and general historic nature of the place really shows signs of cultural meetings and stories told.

The more impressive thing is that Hakodate has done something that many other Hokkaido cities and towns are going to have to do if they want to survive financially in a prefecture whose population is drying up or leaving along with its sources of income. Towns and cities are going bankrupt all over Hokkaido and it’s partially because many of them refuse to shift their economies over to tourism – something that is in veritable endless supply in Japan’s final frontier. Hakodate, whether they feel entitled because of their unique history or simply because they have wised up, has very effectively shift ed the majority of their economy to tourism while maintaining a functioning commercial and pleasure port. They have numerous “local specialties” sold at beautiful bayside restaurants with people lining up to get a seat, dozens upon dozens of parks, and countless points of interest (conveniently explained in two languages).

Of course, most cities and towns don’t even begin to have the history that Hakodate does but that’s no excuse. There’s always something of remote interest, or a specialty food. Hell, put some outside dining in front of a scenic field.  A little charm goes a remarkably long way. Cities like Muroran, where the steel and oil industry are struggling to provide income while a beautiful bay stays wrapped tightly in a blanket of rusted warehouses, collapsing homes and unused docks, need to understand that they have more than one source of income. The longer they wait to figure that out, the more the city center will rust out to nonexistence, and the less certain their future as anything other than a once prominent port town turned scrap pile will be.

But I digress. Hakodate does it well. We walked the sights and stopped for lunch at California Baby, a supposedly western restaurant that specializes in buttered rice with assorted toppings. Meghan had the Cisco Rice (buttered rice with a kind of demi-gras sauce and a sausage with a side of potato salad) and I had a chicken sandwich which was the closest thing to a chicken salad sandwich that I’ve had in a long time. Meghan also had a quite delicious beer that goes by the (translated) name of “Northern Fox Red Beer” which is apparently brewed in Oregon and makes its way across the 44th parallel to (I think) Nemuro. It’s always nice to find a real beer in Japan.

We made our way back to the rider house to pick up our hanami (flower enjoying) gear that Meghan had, in wonderful foresight, packed up the night before. We tossed two panniers full of plates, the stove, tarp and assorted other things onto the bikes and headed to the remains of the famous star-shaped fortress now known as Goryokaku Park. We arrived with a fair amount of sun left and enjoyed the flowers and some beers as we watched young lovers in rented row boats unskillfully navigate the terribly inconvenient, star shaped moat that surrounds the park. Needless to say, hilarity, splashing and scraped boat sides ensued.

As the sun went down, we packed up and headed back downtown towards our area of the woods but decided to stop at the Hakodate Brewery Restaurant for a sampler. We each grabbed a sampler that included three to four beers (all were acceptable but nothing amazing) and shared a plate of very overpriced but delicious fried squid sticks. Squid is one of those foods that I will never look at the same again after leaving Japan. It’s good. Very good. Before Japan, I was back and forth on all things squidy and octopus-like. No longer. Take fresh squid, slap it on the grill for a couple minutes, pour a little dashi over it and you have a straight-up delicious snack. Takoyaki? I won’t even begin to go into my obsession with those tiny, doughy, fried up balls of octopus.

After the sampler and squid, we decided to cycle over to Mt. Hakodate to check out the one thing that everyone told us we HAD to do – see the “night view” of the city. As we approached Mt. Hakodate, the lines of cars became more and more clear. Traffic stopped and we gleefully blasted past them on our self-propelled vehicles. As we got to the base of the cable car (that you take to the “night view” platform), the line to actually go up in the cable car became painfully apparent. Thousands, I tell you, were waiting. So we both agreed to tell everyone that we had seen the night view and it was beautiful and we fired down the street to see if we could make it to a soup curry restaurant, Megumi, we had seen earlier before closing time. We made it. We had soup curry. It was good but our little soup curry joint in Muroran still wins.

We retired to our garage bunk bed and tried to ignore the flickering neon light and smell of gasoline as we fell asleep.

The next morning we got up bright and early (not really by choice), packed up our panniers and headed upstairs to nab the free toast and coffee. There, we chatted with some of the breakfast bikers about what we had seen and done, talked to the mama-san and her husband about bringing bikes on trains (as we had long ago decided we were going to take the train back – being the high-class luxury lovers that are) and met a very nice, but quiet Malaysian undergrad who was studying at, as chance would have it, Muroran Institute of Technology – not ten minutes from our house. I knew that bringing bicycles on trains in Japan was very doable but that a bag (called a rinko bukuro) was needed. I asked the owners of Lime Light if they knew where we could buy some. He said a blue tarp would be fine as long as you wrapped it tightly around your bike. That was good news – but we only had one tarp. So he lent us a bike bag making us promise we would mail it back it him. Amazingly nice people.

We said our goodbyes and thank yous and headed off to the Morning Market to grab some fresh seafood before hopping on our 12:30 train back to Muroran. We saw a little bit more of Hakodate, tried to nab some Lucky Pierot Burgers before lunch, failed, and boarded our Muroran-bound train.

Getting the bicycles on the train was no problem. The only minor issue came in dealing with our reserved tickets. Until then, we had almost always purchased unreserved seats as it was always a bit cheaper. This time we decided to get reserved seats since it was only about 5USD more and we had a lot of luggage. I’m not sure why, but I just assumed that the reserved tickets simply allowed you to sit anywhere in the reserved cars – dumb. So we put all our bags down, settled in and waited for the train to start moving. At about 12:25, I got up to snap a picture of the bikes nestled in the back of the train when a guy who had been awkwardly perched in between cars stopped me and and asked,

“Is this car 1? I’m kind of confused,” while showing me his ticket.
“Yup,” I said. “This is car one. Looks like you’re in the right place.”
“Oh thanks.”
“No problem,” I replied and started walking off.
“Well, what does your ticket say?”
“I’m pretty sure it says car one but I guess I’m not sure now that you mention it,” I responded.
I fished for my ticket, pulled it out and noticed the it did not, in fact, say car one but car two. And actually had seat numbers.

The guy had been standing there pretty much since we got onto the train at 12:10 and HAD WAITED UNTIL THE TRAIN WAS ABOUT TO MOVE TO TELL US WE WERE IN HIS SEAT. I had a small, internal, mental explosion at his ridiculously indirect way of telling me I was in his seat and his inconsiderate timing, thanked him for letting us know (perhaps I’ve become more Japanese than I realize), informed Meghan, and began running all our bags around to the following car as going down the aisle was an impossibility.

We finally got settled. We both leaned our seats back and watched as our four day trip down to Hakodate passed us by in two hours.

internet still a no go. chillin in hakodate under the cherry blossoms drinking beers and enjoying life. heading back to muroran tomorrow where we will finally post all the things we’ve been writing! -mb

I woke up intermittently pretty much all night as different intensities of rain and wind came down on our tent. We stayed in the tent a little longer than usual, waiting for the wind and rain to die down. Eventually, believing the coast was clear, we emerged from our dry cocoon to brave the gray weather and gnats (which, due to the wind coming from the lake, had stopped us from using one of the tents two doors for fear of letting in swarms of gnats being blown uncontrollably toward us). We packed up house and chatted a bit with the two other cycle tourists that had camped near us the previous day. One, a younger guy, had been cycling for 9 months. He had started in Chiba (which is down near Tokyo), and was making his way up toward Wakkanai; the northern most tip of Japan. The other was a much older man who had been touring for around three months and had started in Kyoto. Being original from Asahikawa (a city in the middle of Hokkaido), he was almost home but taking his time.

We packed up in the wind, finished out chat, and headed out toward Hakodate. The day, which started out gray, rainy and windy, quickly turned to a light breeze with wonderful sunshine almost as soon as we left the lake area. (It should be noted that Lake Onuma, and it’s smaller lake brother, are a wonderful little tourist spot with lots of little restaurants, boats to rent and some nice free camp sites. Well worth a stop if you are near the area.) The ride from Onuma to Hakodate, however, is mostly unremarkable. Since Hakodate is on the opposite coast, this part of the trip was mostly rolling hills and fields. As you get closer to Hakodate, naturally, the city grows and you eventually find yourself in the middle of chaotic six-way intersections (one of which is a train line).

Note: Meghan has just told me that the Octopus Shop wasn’t actually on the leg from Onuma to Hakodate but actually on the Yakumo to Onuma leg. Woops! Anyway, it’s still on Route 5 I believe – unless it’s called 37 up there.

The two most notable stops on the way from Onuma to Hakodate were the Octopus Shop and the Konbu-kan. The first we almost didn’t even stop at. I was rolling at a brisk pace when I looked up and noticed a very “wild west” looking wooden building wearing a large white and red sign that read “Octopus Shop”. I was mildly intrigued but not overly excited – until I saw the rows of drying tentacles that hung in the entry way to the store. Having long been a fan of takoyaki (fried octopus dumplings) and “Day of the Tentacle”, I simply had to stop. My was it worth it. The store had tons of samples, loads of crazy dried octopuseses and half the staff was incredibly  friendly. I highly recommend it if you find yourself on Route 5 from Nanae/Lake Onuma to Hakodate.

Our second stop is quite well known is about 15km outside of Hakodate. The Konbu-kan (konbu being a kind of seaweed and kan being a store/building/establishment/market) is a market that is devoted entirely to foods and treats made from this kind of sea weed. Although that may sound pretty non-delicious to the unsuspecting western palette, one quickly finds that konbu and its many offspring are quite delicious (and sometimes not so). We picked up a couple bags of barbecued konbu with sesame seeds – a wonderful beer time snack.

After the Konbu-kan, we hightailed it to Hakodate; stopping only once for some tasty soba in a more residential area of Hakodate. At about 3pm we rolled into the neighborhood that seemed to have a couple hostels and other accommodations. I should note that Golden Week is a terribly congested time of year for Japan as people take this time to travel around and (in Hokkaido, at least) see the cherry blossoms. For this, they usually head to Hakodate. We were rolling into Hakodate, during Golden Week, with no hotel reservations of any kind and camp sites, as with most cities, are nowhere to be found. We stopped at the first hostel on my map (Hakodate YGH). I headed into the entry way of the hostel and in my most polite Japanese started, “I know it’s terribly late to be asking this and we don’t have a reservation, but, I was curious if you had any rooms available…” and she started laugh. Ha. Shoulda known. I asked if any other hotels or hostels in the area might have space and she laughed again saying she didn’t really know but that she really, really doubted it. I left, relayed the news to Meghan and we pedalled off mildly worried.

Our next attempt was a rider house. I’ve mentioned this before but rider houses are accomodations that are aimed primarily at short stay motorcycle tourists. This was all I knew of rider houses as we headed to our first one to see if they had any room.

Lime Light Rider House, several blocks from Hakodate station, is a very unsuspecting little establishment with only a crudely painted sign hanging outside and rows of motorcycles on the sidewalk to let you know you’re in the right place. I very skeptically entered what I can only guess was the front door. The entry way had no desk or anything of the kind – just a pile of shoes, the potent smell of gasoline and stale cigarette smoke, and a whiteboard sign stating, “Welcome! We are upstairs. Come on up!” I did just that. Upstairs, there was a corridor of closed doors where I could hear kids laughing and general chatter. I started politely with me, “Excuse me”s and “Anybody here?”s. No answer. Eventually, I knocked on the door to find a bunch of people sitting in a living room, watching tv, chatting and reading. “Is this the reception?” I asked. A portly, middle aged woman answered that it was, in fact, the reception. I asked about space available and she said the last two spaces were still free for tonight. Relief! I ran down to tell Meghan and we started to move our panniers inside. We sat in the living room with the rest of the guests, made idle chatter, haggled the price down to 2oooen a nights since we would only be using one bed (was going to be 1500en each) and we’re given a boat load of information and a wonderful little map by the mama-san of the establishment.

Then she showed us to our “room”. We walked around a bit as she explained where the facilities were and about free coffee and toast in the morning. We finally entered a garage full of motorcycles, old bicycles, helmets and bags. She pointed to top bed of a group of four bunks and said, “There you go! The doors are never locked so feel free to come back whenever! Let me know if you want to stay another night!” and she was off. Meghan and I stood for a moment motionless. No lockers? I hope this is a trustoworthy bunch. It turned out to be very safe and friendly and, as I later found out, there was always someone on guard – not that any criminal in there right mind would try to rob a garage full of bikers. Still, Lime Light and rider houses in general are something that I don’t think I would trust in the states – or anywhere outside of Japan for that matter.

After dropping of our bags, we went to Hakodate Onsen Hotel for a quick bath and then headed to the famout Goryokaku Park to meet up with some friends. One of the best parts of that first day in Hakodate, for me, was the joy of not having all the weight of the panniers and zipping through traffic on our way to the park. While loaded panniers aren’t horribly weighty, you get quite a spring in your pedals when you first find yourself without all that added weight.

On our way to the park we grabbed some yakitori (meat on a stick – pork or chicken depending on where you are from) from the famous Hakodate Hasegawa Store convenience stores. They are convenience stores like any other but they make fresh yakitori in-shop. Quite nice indeed. We met up with friends, enjoyed the night time flowers and returned to our rider house for some much needed rest that was only occasionally interrupted by overhead lights flicking on and off, returning bikers or rustling plastic bags.

at beautiful lake Onuma this morning, 30km from hakodate(and internet, posting by cell). Its raining pretty hard so i am settling into my trekker chair with my book, about to put some water on to boil for tea. weve got lots of left overs from last night’s dinner so im happy to chill until the rain stops. looks like tophe is going to sleep it out(^-^). -mb