Tasty and filling breakfast buffet in the morning, even if the seating arrangement felt a bit too much like school.

An easier day in store for us riding down the Kitakami valley. Even though it could have felt reasonably built up, we found plenty of cycle trails, including a former tramway, to keep us away from traffic.

Police vehicles tend to drive around with beacons flashing as a matter of course; when they’re this cute, probably helps with visibility.

Plenty of traditional grain stores today.

Sake making seems to be big around here.

Checking to see how super the drugs were.

There sure were a lot of them, along with groceries too.

Vaguely menacing bridge guardians.

Our trail took us through a large park; unfortunately far too late for blossom season.

Never mind attaching a snow plough to the locomotive, just make the whole locomotive the plough.

Not a snow plough.

Over the road we found an extensive open air museum where many buildings, mostly thatched, had been moved to site. We happily wandered around checking them out.

Back on the bikes, finding plenty of rice growing, harvesting and processing – amongst other curiosities.

(Rachel’s photo.)

Pheasants! This must be a good town.

This was the first time we’d seen rice drying in this particular manner – we saw the poles being installed, and the layering of the bundles on the poles.

Another good town.

Where vending machines come to die. Although alarming visions of them coming to life were easy to conjur.

In this field we could see one of the small rice harvesters in action. Small enough to go on a trailer and be towed by a kei truck, they cut the rice and then thresh the grain – before depositing it in the hopper on the back of the truck. The farmers thought us a bit odd for taking such an interest.

In Hiraizumi we walked around the 800 year old, UNESCO listed, Mojitsu Buddhist temple complex. Most tranquil and intricate buildings.

Some leaves starting to turn.

Finding somewhere to camp was a bit more a challenge than usual. The only campground we knew of in the area was into the hills a bit and reported to have no water. After checking out a couple of parks and finding them unsuitable for stealth camping, we loaded up with water and preprepared soba noodle bowls and climbed to the deserted old campground. Not that we could see much as we arrived in the dark and light drizzle. But we could see enough to pitch our tents in an old railway carriage – no walls, but bench seats down the sides and a very handy roof.