Morning in Kyoto began with a meal and multiple cups of coffee at a restaurant attached to the hotel.  We packed our bags, checked out of El Inn, and mounted on our cycles to find the route to Osaka.  It was a mere 40km away, so we figured we’d be there in about two hours maximum.  Callum and I collectively decided that since the road rash on my thigh was only getting irritated under my biking shorts, that I should roll them up and ride to air it out.  Stopping at a convenience store for provisions in water, my attire was met by many stares from the Japanese.  A sweet elderly couple commented in their native tongue that my wound was a shame, but it was OK because I was young.  I felt warm and thankful that they were indeed right.  We began a long and tiresome ride to Osaka, across industrial sprawl. It began to rain, at first softly, and then with vigor.  The stretch of road between Kyoto and Osaka was the first part of Japan that reminded me of China.  In fact, it was the first part of Japan that has reminded me of India, specifically the road from Agra to Delhi through Uttar Pradesh.  As my mind raced along with my cycle, I defended my spirits and electronics from the rain.  We stopped in a convenience store for hot coffee and chocolate.  The attendant was thoughtfully inclined to wrap the luggage on the back of my bicycle with a large plastic back while I was in the bathroom.  Amazing foresight and kindness, the man had. We wheeled for a total of five hours that day, through the outskirts of Osaka, through the city of Osaka, through Osaka Korea town, and finally found a hotel in the happening nightlife district.  The hotel had gigantic pillars with faces in the exterior, which we took as a clear message to stay.

Callum and I both napped hard for a few hours, exhausted from the five hour ride over a mere 40km.  Osaka was a hard city, and difficult to navigate in the rain with a tired head.   We discussed the fact that the rain would continue for three more days in the stretch between Osaka and Fukuoka.  This meant we would have to ride in poor weather, at low speeds, for long hours, with reduced scenery.  We both knew that this night in Osaka would be our last on the trip, and that a Shinkansen the next day would be our return journey.  With no remorse, we ventured out into the night. And ate a ton of Sushi. Then we took photos of strange things.

 Apparently this chap is famous:

 After a good night’s rest, we found a bicycle shop that sold bags so that I could pack my cycle into the Shinkansen.  We rode across a large highway and bridge, which delivered us directly to the station.

 Then, we packed up our bikes.

 And sat down in the back row next to our bikes for nearly three hours of watching our 540km rewind at high speeds.

And just like that, we were back in Tokyo.

One day soon, we will return to the south of Japan and complete our route.  Maybe we’ll start in Fukuoka and head north.  But regardless of heading and direction, we will wheel the distance between Fukuoka and Tokyo.