Brownsville turnaround on the Tex Mex border

I've learned a load on this trip, most of it has been new to me but now I've arrived in America there's a level of familiarity borne from previous experience, from tv and films and also I guess the internet. I've gathered my opinions on the place based on these things and over time gained my own prejudices.

On this trip however I've approached many of these thoughts again, largely based on my time overland. Based on my time so far in the USA this trip, on a few moments overseas and specific ones such as wandering through Winslow in New Mexico where there's not a lot happening but railway tracks running through carrying immense trains while the rest of the town is in decline from it's Route 66 heyday.





In most of the other countries I've been in I've tried to think about where the country has been in history and how it's developed within it's own borders as well as outside. Since arriving there's been a few occasions where I've gotten a bit wound up about big plates of food, the sense that the food I've eaten doesn't seem all that fresh and what seems to be a wasteful approach to lots of aspects of life. Las Vegas has been a major turning point in these thoughts for me and I've afforded the country the same respect I've given other countries on this trip.

As part of this the train tracks and also Route 66 are a tale in themselves. Telling a story of a country on a journey. Trying to get somewhere. In some respects like Route 66, destroying parts of itself to try and find a better way to the destination.





As a European it's easy to scoff at Vegas, at the waste, the electricity burned, the huge buffets in every hotel, the faceless entertainment of it all. When I made it down to a shopping area called The Town Square I found that it is laid out like a pretend prettied up town centre. I wandered for a while and let myself get wound up at how false the place was.





Then it hit me. There's not a load of history. I've known that for years, like I've known the people are more likely to move town for work than Europeans. Like I've learned over time that the distances between towns and states is much much larger than I once could comprehend.

So I thought about that shopping centre and yes it's false but I look back to home and the shopping centres I see there. The new ones are false, constructed to order in a manufactured fashion leaving areas of town elsewhere to effectively rot and slip downhill to the point that businesses don't see the sense in paying to sort out difficult untidy areas. What do the people do? They flock to them. Maybe we aren't that different.

History wise, there's not a huge amount (other than the native Americans but for a variety of reasons I'm going to put them respectfully to the side as they have largely not driven the country to where it is from the points I'm considering here). This shows itself in the young girl tonight who's best friend loves Scotland, but has never been despite always looking at photos and saying how beautiful it is. Also in the guy the other night who loves Scotland and was desperate to travel to Belfast... Then the day before there was guy who was Scottish, well his grandparents were. From my own history I've a load of examples like this but realistically there's not a depth of national history like many other nations have. It's a fact and there's no shame in it, it's a young nation.

Then there's the cars. I'm now driving a Jetta, not a big car in the grand scale of things but it's got a 2.5l engine, I'm not sure if they sell them with engines that size in Europe. I got out of the car the other day and was stood next to an American "Chelsea tractor", a big Ford truck with a 6.8l petrol engine that looks like it's never seen any dirt. Now there's a change happening and the cars are getting smaller over time as far as I can see from my experience, but they are generally still much bigger than the rest of the world.

It also seems to me that the cars, the huge buffets, the huge food portions, the twee shopping malls and ridiculous competition to make the biggest and grandest hotel / casino is a function of how much wealth they have here as a nation (again I'm ignoring huge issues such as the national debt, lack of social care and personal credit issues). There is and has been a load of cash visibly sloshing around for most of the population. There's been the ability to make things better, more comfortable, better.

This last point here brings me back full circle again to the train, to Route 66. I was in a small town called Grants today, a small town which grew thanks to the railroad, exploded (figuratively) thanks to uranium mining and then collapsed following the end of mining. It's a story seen over much of the rest of the nation of not being overly rooted, of being able to move, to change to make things better for themselves and their families.

So here I am in a nation with relative wealth, a desire to find itself and a need to make things better without being encumbered unduly by history or real threats to it's own borders (unlike much of the rest of the world with invasions within their histories). A nation with space to do as it pleases and the lack of fear to get on with it.

It's easy to kick the country as it's problems are obvious to all whether they have been here or not. I continue to see a lot of stuff I don't like about the country but this trip, like those through so many other countries has allowed me a new view over and above my earlier preconceptions. In that sense I feel lucky to feel that I understand the place more than I had before. Although I knew much of what I've written here prior to this journey there's a sense of comprehension I don't feel I could ever have had without seeing and understanding like I have in this last few weeks. I'm glad I'm here.

Location:N Main St,Roswell,United States

Countries IV

My last installment of the countries blogs is here. Leaving the US should be straight forward enough so there won't be much to add.


MONGOLIA

Well, as you no doubt noticed from another blog I had to enter Mongolia under my own steam with a broken down bike. I freewheeled down to a concrete apron where I waited for half an hour or so with a fuel truck and a family in an old YA3 (youaz) jeep while the husband and wife had an argument.

Eventually an old Lada bounces over the countryside and stops relatively close to me on the other side of the fence. He makes his way to where there's a break in the fence, wanders through and waves the drivers over to a fly filled cabin. Once inside it's obvious that he wants to charge for disinfecting the vehicles. Outside is a pit with a ramp in and out and a puddle of what looks like rainwater inside, regardless I hadn't gone through it because I didn't want to push the bike up the far side after freewheeling slowly down the hill. 30 roubles later I was in possession of a piece of paper and shortly afterwards was ushered through into the Mongolian border post.

After what must have been 45 minutes and a couple of minor charges that I forget the value of but mustn't have been more than a few pounds I was through following a brief passport control, obligatory costoms check with vehicle registration and my first health questionnaire of the trip. The lady behind the glass disinterestedly stamped and signed the form before Im off again.

Pushing the bike out of the border post I wait for Mr Disinfectant to return bearing assistance and eventually enter into another wee adventure but not before some guy and maybe his granddaughter claim about ten pounds from me for insurance.

The roads really are non existent. Following advice from my new found mechanic I've stayed on what I assume to be the main roads through the countryside from Olgii after I get the bike running again through to about 400km short of Ulaan Baatar where the road turns to Tarmac again.

Doing this has meant that I've been riding the roads travelled by buses and trucks along the length of the country. After meeting two guys in no mans land between the border posts they advised to stay on the northern or central route through the country because it's apparently far more interesting and less sandy. Although I hate riding in sand I figure that the southern route may have more chance of resembling some form of thoroughfare which will benefit my choice in doing the trip without GPS.

The roads themselves have resembled single track routes, bumpy rocky tracks, eight lane highways through dry fields and almost good quality packed surfaces for short spells. I've ridden over mountain passes, past beautiful lakes and through rivers. Some of the water has been at least three feet deep and totally soaked me while the sand has a given me a few frights. I've also had my time off the bike with one of the worst spells laying under the bike in mud.

I've occasionally seen police in cars, mainly Hyundai ones, there's been a few riding or standing beside Chinese 150cc bikes but mostly they seem to stand around. Meanwhile there's predictably a lot of 4x4 cars around, some Russian and a lot being Japanese with the Toyota Landcruiser being one of the more well represented ones. Perhaps the most frequent sight has been the sight of old Hyundai cars in various states of degradation and which seem to flex as they drive past.

Within Ulaanbaatar I only really seem to see police traffic cars which are all fairly new Hyundai Accent models although occasionally I see an old Furgan with some lights on the top of it though Im not sure if these are police. In town the driving is pretty poor and resembles the worst of what driving I have seen so far but merged with the most insane lack of patience. Given that, there's not as much horn blowing as you might expect but everyone tries to shoehorn into the tightest spot possible, pushing and squeezing everyone else out of the way before racing off as quickly as possible. What can be really frustrating is the way that a three lane part of road widens to four lanes to allow a left turn across traffic before some drivers squeeze to the front of the left three lanes and start indicating left. Theres only one lane to move into so it turns again to chaos. Meanwhile there's three lanes of traffic behind trying generally to move forward but can't because of the left turn palaver and they are all trying to squeeze into one lane and getting angry about it. All good fun to watch but you won't get anywhere quickly.

Roads wise, on the last 200km into Ulaanbaatar and the 350km or so to the Russian border the roads are reasonable tarred roads allowing good progress.

Which brings me onto the border itself.

I approach the border from a local town on the Mongolian side which allows me a pretty clear view over some fields into the first town in Russia that I'll see again. On the way up through the city there's a small Citroen car driven by three Finns that passes on the Mongol rally and I get into the border post without issue.

The first border point is a simple vehicle check and I'm passed up the road into the main border building where for an hour of almost constant movement Im passed from one person to another with at least half of these movements being at the whim of a general hand wave. Whilst everyone there is pretty relaxed I do get a bit hacked off with passing from side to side, inside and outside without any real idea what or where is next. I also find myself filling a form in at the request of one official, noticing some paperwork beside where I'm standing but as I'm not asked to fill anything else out I don't pay attention. This is until five minutes later when one person passes me to another, who passes me back to the desk with the form who then eventually says I need to fill another form.

My pointy elbows also get some fresh air because of the way us Brits like to queue versus the locals wish to barge through everything. Eventually my dirty looks, wide pointy elbows and decision to deal with no personal space allow me to get through the final passport stamp without issue.

There's also a final check of the passport which happens at every border crossing. Whereas every one I've had so far is a simple look and wave through I join a queue of traffic that just seems to sit there. After what seems like an eternity but is actually only ten minutes another official comes up to where I am, asks in English if my passport is stamped and simply tells me to go before moving to the next car to talk. I take no second prompt, jump onto the bike and squeeze past thinking as soon as I hit the Russian gate there's nothing anyone can do even if they change their minds.

For all it was a faff it only took an hour and I was back through to the efficient organization of the Russians.


RUSSIA (pt 2)

Russia, despite stories of bureaucracy and nightmare border crossings proves to be the exact opposite for me again. I've got myself up to the first border post where I'm given a form by a very professional lady then told to move up the hill a little. In the line for getting the passport stamped I fill In the immigration form I've just been given then walk to the front of the line of traffic where I deposit my stuff in a window only to be asked no questions and get my passport back a few minutes later all stamped up. The next part is the worst part and simply entails a thirty minute wait in line before another lady helps me fill in the customs form, takes a cursory look in my panniers and welcomes me to Russia. The whole process is friendly and simple, taking only an hour. I later however hear that some Polish guys take four hours getting through and have a bit of a nightmare, no idea how this all works out.

In the border post I get to see a couple of cars coming through for the Mongolian Rally only to be barked at by one of the guards to maintain separation of the entry and exit streams. Further on there's a chirpy guy waving enthusiastically as he drives his old ambulance toward me and I'm well into a series of roads over 4000km that are largely good quality with a few construction sites where you can be riding over hardcore rubble, gravel or torn up roads on the way past active construction vehicles as they try to build the road. At some points on the Amur highway you are maybe 15m above ground level as the way they build the roads is simply to dump gravel, hardcore etc onto the ground to build up a foundation above ground and grade the roads level for a final surface.

The other striking thing about the roads is the cars. In amongst a few older left hand drive cars and trucks are the right hand drive ones and maybe half of the traffic coming west is Japanese import cars on transit number plates. The number of right hand drive cars slowly increases as you go east til you get to Vladivostok and it's a small minority that are left hookers. This comes right down to the fact that most of the police cars are also right hand drive. It also makes for some interesting driving as the impatience many of the drivers have means they barrel along behind the car / bike / truck / van in front, swerve hard left to try and get a view of the road in front, swerve even harder back in again to avoid a collision with oncoming traffic then repeat until they get past. Amazingly my only experience of a Russian accident was about five feet in front of me as a pedestrian in Vladivostok when a car skidded into the side of another turning left across traffic.

Meanwhile my experience of the land is one of surprisingly little variety. Although it alternates between flat and hilly the landscape consists of birch forest or swamp in the main all the way over though the size of some of the rivers is hard to comprehend when coming only from a small country.

Suddenly it also seems that there is road signage again. From the almost absolute absence in Mongolia to the fairly clear signs in Russia it's a refreshing change although it falls down at intersections and also in towns. My experience in towns is that there's good clear signage of how to move toward Vladivostok apart from at a number of pretty key junctions and turn offs. It's a big thanks to my traveling partners GPS for getting through some cities with sanity.

On the way out of Russia I have a really easy time of it. Deciding not to sit in a stairway or small room with lots if other passengers I have a relaxed and comfy few hours waiting for anything to happen. When it does it takes no time at all to get through a cursory xray of my bag, then a passport stamp before I'm off. I was pointed in the direction of a customs agent when I bought my ferry ticket and didn't complain which I think was a good and clever way to sort the notorious Vladivostok customs out. For me I had a few hours accompanying the agent one day and another hour the next. It could have been a lot longer and a lot more stressful.


JAPAN

My second arrival in country by ferry brings me to a small town called Sakaiminato. Getting relatively close to the head of the line for coming off the ferry means I'm through customs and immigration in twenty minutes and it couldn't be easier but that's just for me. The bike is a different story and I have some traveling partners on bike also who give me some company over the next day and a half as we get the bikes through a customs check, sort some other customs paperwork out with the carnet, get the carnet authenticated at a town 30 - 40 kilometers away then arrange insurance. By 3pm on Saturday after arriving at 9am on the Friday we are free to leave on the bikes. For me this is by far the biggest faff border of the trip so far but at least everyone I deal with is terribly nice.

Freeing ourselves of the border we are now on local highways but given the high population density the vast majority of the roads are through some form of civilisation with limits set at 50kph. Its hard work getting through distances but at least the towns are very well signposted with English translations underneath each of the lines of Japanese writing.

Driving isn't particularly hard but mentally it is. There's a load of people on this small island and the hilly areas are largely kept clear which leads to the busy corridors which just drive you mad. At points the only way I could tell I was in a new town was the repetition of car garages.

Meanwhile the alternative is the expressway system which allows more steady travel but at a cost. The 400 odd kilometer trip from Sendai to Tokyo costing nearly 6500 yen which at an exchange rate of 130:1 sterling turned out pretty rich.

All the while though there were precious few police on the wander and the predictably safe Japanese driving style made for easy filtering even with bulky panniers. I did see a few red light cameras but these were always front facing which was a bonus even on a foreign registered bike as being at the back of a trail of bikes made for some choice red light action.

Exit from the country took no time at all. I left by plane and it was like any old airport border while the bike was just dropped at a packing warehouse to be processed when ready in my absence. All very easy but quite wrong to be away without the bike.


USA

LAX arrives after a pretty painless flight and getting past immigration was no trouble. Seattle even easier because it was a domestic flight. Once I arrived there were a couple of quiet nights in town and then onto the road in a big white Dodge Charger which lasted pretty well for a few days until someone drove into me. It then lasted pretty well until something seems to have happened with the transmission and then it's time for a Jetta.

There's been a strange mixture of stereotypes and clichés along the way with a few surprises. At the time of writing I'm down in the southern states and have stayed in some pretty small places in backwater old route 66 towns with huge plates of food served in places such as the 'Roadkill Cafe' where some of the helpful public information signs are no smoking alongside no firearms. Good to know. Yesterday I stayed in one motel where there were ten vehicles outside and half of them were big trucks.

Meanwhile the west coast route involved some crazy twisty little roads that at this time of year were pretty quiet though surprisingly foggy. The west coast being a good reason to have a Japanese or European bike while Route 66 is a fantastic reason to have a thumping old Harley, and most folks do.

Otherwise I'm no stranger to the US although this trip is giving me a different perspective. It's a big place with a lot of changes and contrasts although there's always plenty of signage, plenty of accommodation, plenty of food and plenty to see.

Location:E 3rd St,Winslow,United States

Honey I shrunk the car

Well, that's been just over a week since I arrived in America. Been fairly eventful too with a quite long trip down the West coast through routes 1 and 101 from Seattle to Santa Monica within the city limits of Los Angeles. Im going to try and stop harping on about being on four wheels instead of two after this but there are some fairly obvious points of note about the change from increased fuel consumption through to a physical sense of isolation from the elements as I drive on through what has at times been some fantastic scenery.

Another thing Ive noticed about the change is that I'm just some other guy in a car now. Gone are the days of people approaching for a chat because I'm different and the plate is strange, in that sense it's a much quieter trip than I've had up till now.

All the way down the coast I've been at the edge of a large area of cloud and fog broken by spells of sunshine (later in the trip Ill be glad of the car as I move north into fall). This has resulted in some spectacular moments shifting through the clouds with the fog rolling overhead or breaking suddenly to show some fantastic coastline. At some points I've seen through the fog a little within the Redwoods as the light has provided amazing shafts of light over the road. At other points I saw not a lot, like when I sat in Sausalito across the bay from San Francisco only to think I might as well be looking down Union Street in Aberdeen on a bad day such was the gloom in the distance.





As far as the car is concerned, it was a nice treat to be upgraded to the Charger, a big, very American piece of metal. Quite a comfy old boat really and it was a proper shame when as I drove into a car park in Oregon only a couple of days after picking the car up that someone decided to reverse into me as I drove past. Not a disaster but I would have been much happier had it not happened.





What was more disastrous for the car happened a couple of days ago when I was in the middle lane on a stretch of freeway when the traffic stopped moving. I decided that I wanted to move into the right hand lane which was still moving so booted it, the auto box kicked down and I remember seeing a
flash of the rev counter into the red line just before the rev limiter kicked in. A second or so later the check engine light was on and blinking while there was a chiming noise from the dash. Ho hum.

Already up to about 60mph I came off the throttle a little and the engine and transmission felt jerky and horrid. Moving into the far right lane I came off the road at the next junction and after turning the engine off and on again the check engine light stayed on.

To cut a long story a little bit shorter, within half an hour I was at another rental location with the keys to a VW Jetta in hand. As an American spec it's a 2.5l variant so still pretty gutsy and has much more European handling and comfort so that's good, it will probably save me a few dollars in fuel too.





Im at another crossroads in the trip too, literally as well as figuratively. I've done as much of the Pacific Coast route as I had planned and will be changing direction from southbound to eastbound in the morning. The route will change from a very coastal one to a land bound one which I expect to bring a great many cultural changes for me also as I drive through the deserts, the south, Marlboro country and back up close to Canada again as I traverse Route 66. Its going to be a real American road trip.

The next stop? Treasure Island! Arrrrr!

Location:Pacific Terrace,Santa Monica,United States

Sittin by the dock of the bay

I've done a fair bit of travel this past week, moved eight time zones and then three states south. I'm sitting across the bay from San Francisco although due to the fog that's been over much of the west coast on my way south I can't see the Golden Gate bridge or Alcatraz. Meanwhile Ive picked up a Dodge Charger rental car and had someone drive into me as I moved through a car park in Oregon.


All is well otherwise and although I'm kind of glad to be able to sit wearing a pair of shorts and not fuss about packing stuff away too tidy due to the big boot on the car, I am missing the bike and the last couple of days drive on Route 1 would have been fantastic on the bike. If I was in any doubt then the big smile on the R1200GS rider I spoke to earlier in the day would dispel that.

In comparison to the rest of the trip it all seems so easy now. I'm warm, or cool as required, there's a wealth of choices for accommodation and eating, and the roads are smooth and simple. It's all quite a contrast.

Location:Princess St,Sausalito,United States

All change

What did I expect from this trip? I'm not sure, I still dont and it's not over yet. Not by a long shot. I did think on a lot of occasions about people saying that 'they need to find themselves'. I've never understood that. I've always been where and who I am with a very uncertain future, not in a bad sense but only in the sense that I don't know what tomorrow brings.

So here I am, heading towards the date line, LAX then Seattle on a Singapore Airlines 747-400 listening to the Cooper Temple Clause really quite loudly after eating the Japanese selection dinner and drinking a few glasses of wine following a stiff G&T. That's today.

But what does TOMORROW bring...

I'm not sure. It's part of my uncertain future. There's people reading this, don't know how many but I know there's some, who don't know me. For those who do then I guess over the next short while you will get to know Lisa, someone I got to know quite well in Uzbekistan and who I hope will be a more certain part of my future.

Now I remember speaking to a few people, not many, about how the trip might pan out in respect of how I might feel at different points. I had thought that Japan might feel like a bit of culture shock as it's kind of western yet very different, with a hugely different language and style of writing. Lisa told me that her thoughts on the topic were that Japan will be a continuation of all that's been happening for me over the last few months (there's four of them!) and that it's going to be North America that's going to hit me as strange.

I have to be honest say that Japan has came and gone. It feels like part of the trip. It also seems strange to have been part of someone else's trip with the rutasamurai boys but it's still been part of the trip. What has hit me tonight is that I'm back on familiar territory on a plane and that feels like a shock.

I'm on the lower rear section of the plane and for anyone familiar with South Park I feel like Token. Not that it's strange to feel like the only westerner in a space but it's a familiar space for me and I do feel strange. I can speak more than broken English though and Ive had my first drink of wine in nearly four months. I've had a choice of foods described really well in English as well. At the minute it's hitting me hard and I know that tomorrow will hit me really hard too. I didn't give Lisa credit for how this might feel but it is real and it's now. I can only imagine that tomorrow will be another blow as I land in Los Angeles before Air Alaska takes me north to Seattle.

America isn't new to me. Between skiing holidays, effectively drinking holidays and then time at kids camp it's not going to be too strange. I've also had an urge for years to visit Marlboro Country following being sucked into advertising campaigns. What is going to be new at this moment in time is the mode of transport.

I've had people say to me both on a positive and negative note that I don't do anything without having a good think about it first, yet on other occasions I know I can be hellishly impulsive. I guess that's like my belief that I'm incredibly shy and nervous yet can sit in all manner of situations and confidently make a fool of myself or speak out. Getting to the point, the biggest change for the next while for me is going to be the transport and this choice had to be made quickly.

My lack of planning, impulsive grab on some information and stubborn determination led me to Japan. I drove to Japan. On a motorbike. Pretty much single handedly and on my own, believing that I'll find a way round any problems that turn up. This approach brought me to an expensive dead end where the prices for taking the bike to North America didn't stack up and the time I have left before getting really worried about paying the mortgage back home was running out.

In the end I took the decision to ship the bike back by sea freight from Japan to Scotland and rent a car to get me to my destination in New York. This change is eating at me at the moment and Im not happy in so many ways. In a sense I feel that I've failed, I set out to ride around the world and due to a time and expense factor I've made a monumental change.

There have however been a few defining moments of the trip in the last few days (or at least in close proximity it feels that way). One is sitting in Starbucks in Roppongi Hills the other day looking back through photos on the camera with the immense rush of memories crashing back through through me every time I hit to see the next photo. Another is this very flight and the changes and feelings it's bringing to me. Also there have been a couple of occasions today where I realize I'm still planning a huge road trip through America which will allow me to say I've driven around the world, allow me to see the Pacific Coast Highway and Route 66 and visit a wealth of places on the way.

I also remember back to my last biggest spell out from the world of work which was six weeks and it felt great other than some stress with a family illness. I've still got six weeks left of this trip before hitting the real world again and that's way beyond most peoples expectations of a holiday on it's own.

So here I am with changes in lifestyle, work, transport, finance, continent, understanding of the world amongst so many other things and now I'm really only moments away from the date line according to the airplanes moving map.

It's time for more changes any minute. Ill satisfy myself for now with an old habit from working overseas of dropping off to sleep with Snow Patrol playing very loudly to help me face rest and another day on what is, and will stay a fantastic trip. That's if I can avoid asking for another wine on the way back from the toilet.

PS - failed with the wine...

Location:Heading toward the date line

The fever

I visited the Tokyo apple store recently and bought myself a card reader so I could get photos onto this gadget of mine. Some of you might have wondered about the lack of photos on the blog directly and it's down to me not being able to insert photos as I type the entries up in slack moments. That's all going to change though and to celebrate here's a few images Ive liked from Japan so far. It's easy to poke fun at literal translations so I'm avoiding that but some of the imagery and smiling animals makes me smile as it's so different and happy compared to things I see back home.

Have you ever heard of Pachinko? Nope, neither had I but it's a big thing here. A bit strange and neither Joan or I could get it but each of the halls had hundreds of machines and the most unbelievable noise inside.

Not the greatest photo what with scratched glass and reflections but you get the idea. Apparently 3 million people make this crossing per day.

They are big on emergency response here in Japan and even Hello Kitty gets in on the act.

Though I'm not quite sure what a big fish and small bird add to the topic of earthquake response.

Meanwhile the firemen get their own special manhole covers.

I saw this and wondered if we have to be courteous to aliens.

In the midst of it all the natives are oblivious on Nintendo DS games,

And mobile phones...

That's just a small selection from the last couple of days but it's all interesting stuff and I'll see what has yet to come. There will be more on the Flickr page soon.

Location:３丁目,Kawaguchi City,Japan

Bay city rollin

I've fallen into lazy mode, which has worked out pretty well if predictably a little strange in it's own way again. I met two Spanish guys in Khovd, Mongolia when I had my wee problems and then in Ulaanbaatar when they arrived at the same place I was staying at. They left before me as I was waiting for spare parts to arrive and made their way east.

The next time I saw them was in Vladivostok where I saw Joan wave at me as I rounded a corner while trying to find a hotel with another guy I met in Mongolia and bumped into again in Russia. Joan and Vicente made it to Vladivostok a few days earlier and just missed the ferry going to Japan. As it's a weekly ferry they then had a bit of a wait and despite the stories of no ferry availability I managed to get on the same trip which left a few days after I arrived.

Once again I had a straight forward exit from a country and left Russia heading toward South Korea for a few hours and then Sakaiminato in Japan. By the time we arrived in Japan we stuck together to get through all the formalities which all took by far the longest I have experienced on the trip so far and after only thirty hours from the ship docking we were free to leave. Because I had absolutely no plans for Japan I agreed to tag along with my new friends.

It turns out that way back in the past there was a gay called Hasegura Tsunenaga who was sent out on a mission toward Rome with a group of samurai warriors. They made it to Italy and back but some of the samurai seemed to like a small Spanish town so much that they just stayed there. As a result there are lots of people living there with Japanese surnames. My new travelling partners had been in touch with the home town (Sendai) of these samurai and were delivering a gift and a letter. Have a look at rutasamurai.com, theres an English section for those with rusty or no Spanish.

So off I went into the rising sun (sorry for the painful cliche) to find Sendai. It turned out to be an amazingly easy trip because I didn't have to worry about directions and we didn't take the expressway up because it would be dull, plus quite expensive.

On the way up I learned that most of Japan is not for a European motorcyclist. There's way too much traffic, the vast majority of the trip is limited to 50kph and the sprawl of suburbia just goes on and on and on. Once away from these areas however you end up in the mountains where the forest covered slopes are largely empty other than a corridor following the road and the road signs which are in Japanese and English show an amazing wealth of history. Some day it would be good to come back and retrace sections of the trip with a few weeks to see it all properly, I really don't think I've seen so much in the way of signposted history and dams you can crawl over in such a small area.

Like the expressways, we found accommodation expensive but managed to camp out a little. One of the nights we managed to get a woman in a hotel to let us camp out the back, only for the space available to turn out to be car park not belonging to the hotel. Then the police turned up before the tents were pitched only to shoo us on. This turned out fine because the policeman then agreed to show us an alternative spot which turned out to be a public park. Thankfully although it was a Saturday night it was unlike Scottish parks which can often be full of marauding children with bottles of Buckfast in hand.

And so it was that I arrived in Japan, slept in public parks, drove a long distance more slowly than I thought I could imagine and worked my way to the city of Sendai. It was in Sendai that the final purpose of the trip for my colleagues ended. On our night of arrival we tried to arrange a fix for Vicentes bike, like my F800GS it also developed an electrical problem in Mongolia and he also required some heavy truckin action towards Ulaanbaatar. In the end although we thought it was another rectifier issue the BMW mechanic at Sendai Platz ran the bike through diagnostics and it turns out that his alternator is at fault as opposed to the rectifier. There's none spare in Japan and we just continued the pattern used since we got off the ferry of letting his battery run low before swapping batteries and jump starting my bike from the good battery where the electrics would charge up the flat battery again. I paid my way in electricity I think.

Meeting up with the folks in Sendai was strange, there was a city interpreter who's speciality was Spanish though her high school English was great. She looked after us and we met all manner of people from the Sendai international centre the afternoon after we arrived. What also was strange was that evening meeting up with the local Hispanic society for dinner. It was an interesting mix of trying to speak or understand Japanese, Spanish and English and there were a few mini electronic translators doing the rounds.

Although I'm not a big fish fan, never mind raw fish I went for it with dinner as plate after plate of Japanese food was brought out along with a couple of the ladies constantly filling up my glass with warm sake. In the end I ate some kind of fish testes, raw salmon, cuttlefish, tuna, yellowfish and who knows what else as the plates just didn't stop. It was a good night though and one of the most strange parts was a bit of chat about karaoke when they said there were bars that offered songs in English to sing along to. This wasn't strange in itself but my mental blank about what Scottish bands might be available to sing to was ended when both of the women I was talking to started to get really excited about the Bay City Rollers. Apparently their songs are popular on the karaoke circuit here, possibly helped by the lead singer marrying a Japanese woman some years ago.

Location:３丁目,Kawaguchi City,Japan