Cycling Across Japan: A 30-Day Bike Journey from Hokkaido to Kagoshima

Carrying a 20-kilogram pack, I set off on a 3,200-kilometer cycling journey from Wakkanai, Hokkaido, to Ibusuki, Kagoshima. Over thirty days, I encountered the most beautiful scenery, the warmest people, and the most authentic version of myself.

Starting Point: Japan’s Northernmost Tip

The wind in Wakkanai was far colder than I had imagined. By early September, Hokkaido was already showing signs of autumn. Standing before Cape Soya—the northernmost point of Japan—I took my first photo before departure. In the picture, I’m smiling brightly, with no idea what the next thirty days would bring.

The reason for this trip was simple. After five years of working, I had accumulated enough vacation days, and with my thirtieth birthday approaching, I wanted to give myself something special. Rather than buying a new watch or taking a luxury trip, I chose to cross a country at the slowest possible pace.

Hokkaido: Endless Straight Lines and Solitude

Hokkaido’s highways have an awe-inspiring grandeur. Straight roads stretch to the horizon, flanked by endless farmland and pastures. For the first three days, I barely encountered other cyclists—only the occasional truck reminded me that others used these roads.

On the second evening, I found a minshuku in a small town called Nakatombetsu. When the innkeeper heard I was cycling all the way to Kagoshima, her eyes widened in surprise, and she quietly gave me an extra bowl of rice. This kind of understated kindness became one of the most precious memories of the journey.

Five days of cycling in Hokkaido taught me to face solitude. No companions, no internet (many stretches had no signal), no surprises beyond the plan—just me and this road with no visible end. But gradually, I began to enjoy the solitude; it gave me time to talk to myself.

Tohoku Region: Unexpected Warmth

After crossing the Tsugaru Strait to Honshu, the scenery began to change. The mountain roads in the Tohoku region increased, and so did the daily elevation gain. In a small village in Iwate Prefecture, I had the most unforgettable experience of the trip.

That afternoon, a sudden downpour forced me to take shelter under the eaves of a convenience store. An elderly man driving a farm truck stopped and asked me in heavily accented Japanese where I was headed. When he heard my destination, he didn’t hesitate—he loaded my bicycle onto the back of his truck and drove me twenty kilometers to a hotel near his home.

“Young man, cycling across Japan is something remarkable,” he told me as we parted. “But don’t push yourself too hard. Rest when you need to.”

Kanto to Kansai: The Rhythm of Civilization

After entering the Kanto Plain, traffic became heavier and distances between cities shortened. I found myself weaving through traffic. I deliberately bypassed central Tokyo, riding along the Tama River to Yokohama, then heading west along the Tokaido.

The challenge on this stretch wasn’t physical—it was patience. Traffic lights, sidewalks, and bike lanes shared with pedestrians all slowed my pace considerably. But in return, I had more opportunities to interact with people. By a tea plantation in Shizuoka, a tea farmer offered me freshly brewed green tea; at a bike shop in Nagoya, the owner adjusted my derailleur for free.

Kyoto was my planned rest day. I parked my bicycle at the hotel and explored the ancient city on foot. Walking along the Philosopher’s Path, I suddenly realized I had already cycled over 2,000 kilometers, and physical fatigue had become a part of daily life.

A Brief Detour to Shikoku

My original plan was to head straight south from Honshu to Kyushu, but in Hiroshima, a local cycling enthusiast strongly recommended the Shimanami Kaido in Shikoku. So I changed my route on the spur of the moment, took a ferry to Imabari, and rode onto the cross-sea cycling path connecting Shikoku and Honshu.

The Shimanami Kaido was undoubtedly the most beautiful stretch of the entire journey. The azure Seto Inland Sea, the orange-red suspension bridges, the tranquil fishing villages scattered across the islands—it felt like paradise designed for cyclists. I stayed two extra days there and didn’t regret it at all.

Kyushu: The Final Push

Returning from Shikoku to Honshu and crossing the Kanmon Strait into Kyushu, I knew the finish line was close. Kyushu’s volcanic terrain brought the toughest climbs of the trip’s latter half; the routes around Mount Aso made my thighs protest.

On the second-to-last day, on the outskirts of Kagoshima City, I caught my first glimpse of Sakurajima’s silhouette, smoke rising from its crater. In that moment, thirty days of accumulated emotion surged up at once. I pulled over to the side of the road and took several deep breaths before calming down.

The Finish Line: Ibusuki’s Hot Springs

On the final day, I rode from Kagoshima City to Ibusuki. The moment I arrived in front of Ibusuki Station, I did something that might have looked foolish—I got off my bike and walked the last hundred meters, pushing it. I wanted to savor this finish line slowly.

Thirty days, 3,247 kilometers, 28,000 meters of cumulative elevation gain. These numbers record the length of the journey, but they cannot measure its depth. In Ibusuki’s famous suna-mushi hot spring, buried under hot sand with my eyes closed, what surfaced in my mind weren’t the grand landscapes, but the small moments: the old man’s smile in front of the convenience store, the cup of green tea handed to me by the tea farmer, the extra bowl of rice the innkeeper added during the rain.

What I Brought Back to Taiwan

After returning to Taiwan, the question friends asked most was, “Was it worth it?” I always answered: “If you have to ask whether it’s worth it, then you’re not ready to go.”

This trip changed the way I think about distance. Places that once felt far away now seem like just a few days of riding. More importantly, it taught me a lesson: travel isn’t about reaching a place—it’s about becoming a certain kind of person. The me who cycled across Japan and the me before departure are already different people.

Related Reading

• The Solitude and Self-Discovery of Bike Travel: The Psychological Growth of a Solo Island Tour
• A Complete 30-Day Cycling Record Around Taiwan: A Beginner’s Journey Around the Island
• The Complete Guide to Cycling in Hokkaido, Japan: Riding Through Lavender Fields and Plains
• An In-Depth Tour of Japanese Cycling Culture: Urban Bike Aesthetics and Riding Routes in Shimane and Hiroshima