On departure poked around old rolling stock, one of the carriages looked like it was set up as a long sleeping platform. Little did we know this would recur through the day – another flat one near the coast, but a bit cooler and more interesting.
Route planning in full swing; like in Mongolia – as I wasn’t the one on a short timeframe, I stayed out of it and stuck to navigating once the file was sent to me.
After reaching a big estuarine lake, Lake Saroma, we spent thirty kilometres riding around most of one side of it! Lots of buoys out in extensive patches, shrimp being the catch the lake is known for.
Still unable to get over how picturesque and clean the dairy farms are – certainly not contaminated with cows!
More rail history standing by the side of the road, this lot in a nice park – also with a carriage set up for sleeping. Would have liked to stay in one of these, but it never quite worked out. Still, something different to look at compared to the previous days – never did find out the history of the long-closed line, disappointingly.
Suspect our loaded bikes are faster than these small wheels.
A few locomotive pics for those interested:
A little cut through some farmland away from the lake, first large greenhouse complex of note; which is curious as the winters aren’t exactly mild up here.
Back beside the lake, but seemingly going the wrong way – exploring a little headland park and campground.
Into Tokoro town for another Seicomart lunch. Also worked out that the big box store was probably a hardware store, so I popped over to try and replace a gas cylinder for our stoves.
Amused to see an indoor curling rink; more amused to find that one of my Naseby mates has curled there.
Colourful borders back besides the streets.
I may have overstocked on camping supplies at the hardware store. 😮
Still scallops around here.
Approaching Lake Notoro, it was pleasing to find some of the old rail route had been converted to a cycling road (as they’re called here). Although a bit neglected, twenty-seven kilometres of dedicated path, often shady, was most welcome.
Biggest snake yet, it waited until we were right next to it before showing signs of life. Alarming.
Certainly was old train day. No accommodation in this one but.
Leaving Lake Notoro, soon riding beside Lake Abashiri, we began to see huge concrete hotels, all abandoned. Mind boggling the size and expense of some structures left to decay.
Abashiri is known for its museums, the one chosen for the afternoon partway up the only hill of the day – later to take us to a campground. Was about to say I’ve not been to a prison museum before, but I can think of at least one – Abashiri’s not quite as famous. A large complex with many old prison buildings, many relocated from around Hokkaido, this was the most interesting and informative learning of Hokkaido so far for me.
The prisons were from the late nineteenth century when most of Hokkaido was being colonised by the Japanese (some Japanese settlement in the southwest close to Honshu before this and the Ainu people well before that). The prisoners were mostly political prisoners and were set to work creating agricultural land, building roads and other infrastructure. I was surprised to find that Japanese settlement was so late (goes a long way to explain the mild disappointment I had in Hokkaido, that it didn’t feel as Japanese – for want of a better expression – as I expected Japan to feel) and it was motivated by a desire to keep the tsarist Russian “menace” (we saw that term a lot in the English translations) at bay.
Guard booth.
These didn’t look comfortable, particularly the pillow.
Restored lime kiln.
An interpretation of “central” heating.
Further up the hill to find the huge campground overlooking the city. Bemusingly, no tent sites available despite the acres of grass. Eventually got through the rigmarole of checking-in to a small chalet.
I don’t think we broke many of the rubbish rules, but it’s hard to know.
Home for the night – lovely to have limitless shower, bit of a kitchen and plenty of clothes drying space upstairs.
