Road Life
I packed all kinds of gear for a trip that might turn into an overnight if the hitchhiking didn’t go as planned, way out west onto the Shakotan peninsula in Hokkaido. I would take the train to the last western stop, Yoichi, then get off and try to thumb my way the next 50 km or so to Cape Kamui. The weather in Hokkaido is perfect for me – 20 degrees with no humidity, sporadic sun and rain – but the nights are cold and if I got stuck walking a long distance I wanted to have enough weather kit with me to stay warm.
I passed the bus terminal on my way to the train station. Bus Route #5 went to Cape Kamui. I paid the ¥1,780 and got on, and was on the coast in two hours. So much for Captain Adventure.
The drama that is Cape Kamui
For some reason, being out there on what might be the most spectacular piece of coastline I’ve ever seen (and I ain’t no slouch), I got really lonely and I don’t know why. There were a lot of other tourists around, but that’s a given in Japan during travel season and it doesn’t bother me too much. Maybe it was seeing couples and families traveling together? I’ve been in ‘big city’ Japan for quite a bit of my time here, so it’s not like I don’t witness tight social circles all the time, but maybe it was the view of them exploring together, rather than just living their normal lives?
I’m not even sure it was that, to be honest. I’m a pretty solitary guy. I don’t want to be one half of a couple, at the moment at least. I’m quite content just being me, because this life suits me, both the travel and the unattachedness . So I can’t put a finger on why Cape Kamui made me lonely. Can a bit of dramatic geography really drive an otherwise happy boy to despair? It would certainly explain why Ireland produces such world-class alcoholics and authors.
A south view of the Shakotan Peninsula from Cape Kamui
Anyway, I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about it since. I definitely miss my people, and home. It’s been seven months or so since I’ve been on the road / sea, and the slow creep of longing has started to accumulate. I noticed a donut shop by the station yesterday and it made me so homesick that I was on the verge of misting up. I went in and got a honey cruller and what might have been the worst coffee ever. The donut was excellent, if a bit on the small side.
Being out here, exploring, I come across a lot of other people with a similar lifestyle. Many are just burning through their savings on the trip of a lifetime, but some are making a go of it and bring in enough money to keep them on the road. It makes me wonder if I’ll want to travel permanently once my writing income improves from ‘a few beers’ to ‘a new sailboat’. The freedom and adventure speak to me in a language that totally bypasses my frontal lobe and goes straight through to my soul. I love waking up and saying “Fuck yes, where am I going to go today?”
But then I think of home, Toronto, and know that I want to go back there eventually, and I’m having trouble reconciling those two things. I can go back to a ‘professional’ job and have a boss who pays me a good salary to do work that I don’t hate. Now that I’ve been out here and have discovered how awesome the world is, I could use my few weeks’ vacation every year to go see or do something incredible. Hell, sailing to Polynesia only took four weeks. It’s not a bad option.
Ultimately, when I get this writing thing off the ground and have the complete freedom to work from anywhere in the world, I’m pretty sure I’ll still spend at least six months a year at home. Toronto remains the best city I’ve ever been to, for reasons that I expound upon to anyone who will listen, and of course most of my loved ones are nearby. I even like winter. The snow and December zeitgeist are a huge part of being Canadian. January and February suck of course, and I’d love to have the freedom to travel during those months, which happen to coincide with the best sailing season in the Caribbean…
This rambling narrative has no thesis. I just thought I’d share so you know I’m thinking about you. Life out here isn’t all pirate treasure and adventures, but it really doesn’t have many downsides once you get used to it. Moving around with a pack and a map is a good way to shake a lot of expectations and necessities off yourself. It also affords you a lot of time for self-reflection – although this can be frustrating, because my self always wants me to come to some conclusion or achieve some goal, but my me just wants to wander around and look at pretty shit.
On that note, here’s some photos of my adventures since I last posted about racing in Sagami. Since then, I’ve sailed again with another amazing crew out of the Japanese Olympic harbour, caught a Tokyo Swallows baseball game, took a ferry 1,000 km up to Hokkaido, spent a few days in Sapporo (love it), climbed Mount Moiwa, came west to Otaru and, as mentioned, hit the cape. I’ll be leaving Japan soon, and I’m now trying to figure out what my last adventures in the country will be.
And I still don’t know where I’m going next. Which makes me happy again.
