Japanese Hospitality

The Legendary Kindness of The Japanese to Strangers

Today some fellow long-distance cyclists, who are currently travelling through Japan and experiencing this phenomenon, asked on Facebook whether others had experienced similar kindness when travelling by bike. I felt I should reply, since in Japan in particular I have experienced it a great deal.

The Japanese word for foreigners is Gaijin. Literally this means 'outside people'. It has been translated by some as 'aliens', since it sounds rather xenophobic. Nothing could be further from the truth. The Japanese love visitors and like to show them great hospitality. They are concerned to give a good impression of their country. They seem to see it as their moral human duty as much as a national tradition. Imagine if everyone in the world was like that!

Back in the early to mid-80's I used to live in Japan as an English teacher. I met my wife there in fact (a fellow TEFL Teacher). Early on, before I met Lorna, my friend Steve and I needed to go to South Korea to renew our visa. We were low on cash so we decided to hitchhike down to Shimonoseki to take the boat. The Japanese didn't know what hitchhiking was back then. It was tough getting lifts but when we did, the people were incredibly kind and helpful - taking us out of their way. It's a long time ago but I suppose it must have been on the second day, a man picked us up and we got into vigorous conversation. He was excited about having this opportunity to talk to young foreigners (we were around 21 and 25). He was going to his brother's wedding, he explained. Later we stopped and he insisted on buying us lunch. He phoned his brother. Re-starting, he then insisted we should join him at his brother's wedding. We were invited, he said. Can you imagine how amazing that was for us? We stayed an extra night and left for Korea the next day wondering what had hit us! This is only one example of the hospitality we encountered on that short trip and one of the many experiences I had living there for two years.

Back to recent times. Fairly near to the end of our big trip, cycling from Ireland to Japan, my son Sam and I found ourselves on Shikoku island at the start of the Golden Week public holiday. I was reminded that during this holiday, hotels, hostels and B&Bs charged a premium and were very over-subscribed. We spent hours riding around the lovely small city of Kochi, looking for accommodation. People tried hard to help but everything was full. Finally, feeling very tired, we went to the tourist office at the central railway station. There we were helped by enthusiastic students doing a holiday job. Against the odds they managed to find us a traditional ryokan (Japanese family run B&B). It was expensive but we felt lucky and extremely relieved. We stayed for two days and were royally treated. Each day we found special Japanese treats left in our room and discovered that all our clothing had been washed and ironed by the old grandmother. By the third day we felt sad to leave. The whole family came out to wave us off. As we left the old grandma handed us a substantial packed lunch each.
"What amazing, kind people," we said as we rode away.

100kms later we stopped by a mountain stream to eat our picnic lunch. Unpacking mine, I found that the money we had paid for our two night's stay had been neatly wrapped and put inside. You don't find hospitality like that every day.

The river where we ate lunch and discovered the money

 One puncture in 10,000miles and it happened in Shikoku

 Kochi Castle. Sam and I were taken places by local people who befriended us

Owner of a bar demonstrates some Japanese dancing. This bar was closed for Golden Week but a friend we met (Kenichi Harada) asked them to open it especially for us - which of course, being Japanese, they did.

To read more about the amazing father and son journey from Ireland to Japan by bicycle, just click on the links in the right-hand margin of this blog. Thanks for reading.

Punctures and Why I Hate Them

I don't get punctures anymore.
"What's your secret?" people ask.
"I hate punctures," I reply.

I still remember the sense of let-down I felt when I was a small child, out on my bike having fun or on my way to somewhere in a hurry. That sudden rumbling beneath me accompanied by a slight loss of stability that indicated a puncture. That feeling has never changed.

It is for good reason that people use the word 'punctured' as a metaphor. 'Punctured optimism' - 'punctured pride.' It draws upon the feeling every experienced cyclist knows and loathes.

For years I accepted that punctures were an inevitable downside that balanced the outstanding pleasures and practical advantages of cycling. Nothing that great comes without a downside, I told myself. But I did come to wonder why punctures were so much less frequent with my car or motorcycle. "If they could fly men to the moon, what was so difficult about inventing a puncture resistant cycle tyre?"
I continued to cycle and muttered such things to myself every time I found myself kneeling at the side of the road with a tyre lever in my hand. "Bloody ridiculous!" is what it was.

Around five years ago, I was preparing to cycle 10,000 miles from the West of Ireland to Tokyo with my son. Punctures would be a big issue; I knew that from books and blogs I'd read, written by other long-distance cyclists. I toured the internet searching for advice and talked to mechanics in bike shops. Eventually, attending the 2008 cycle show at Earls Court in London, I talked to an elderly gent at a stand. He was demonstrating the puncture resistance of Schwalbe Marathon and Marathon Plus tyres. They had a thick protective band built into the tyre. With the 'Plus', it extended around the sidewall of the tyre as well as the main running section. I'd used things like puncture resistant tape and liquid slime type preparations and they'd improved things, but I'd still got punctures. Was this really so much better, I challenged him.
"I just had a girl here yesterday," he told me. "Four of them cycled from London to Australia, via Indonesia, using Marathon Plus tyres. They didn't have a single puncture between them."
Elderly and a gentleman he might have been, but surely he was exaggerating wildly.
"Not at all," he assured me.
He demonstrated, using an inflated tyre already full of drawing pins. Then he handed me a drawing pin.
"Have a go for yourself!" he said, seeing the look of suspicion on my face.
I tried several and even gave it a good old jab with the point of a knife. Nothing! The next day I ordered a set of Marathon Plus tyres for my Dawes Super Galaxy touring bike.

Six months later, Sam and I set off for Japan. Even in Ireland, some of the road surfaces were bad. Classic puncture territory, I thought. I waited, anticipating that sense of deflation - of punctured enthusiasm at any moment. We were loaded up and therefore far more puncture-prone. But days went by and rough surfaces with broken glass, discarded bolts and bits of vehicle debris passed beneath our wheels without that sense of impending puncture-doom amounting to anything. This good fortune continued all the way across Europe until after a few thousand miles I had almost forgotten about punctures. Sam's bike had been delivered with standard Schwalbe Marathon tyres (without the sidewall protection) but had proved equally resistant. I thanked that old man in my head.

Although my good fortune continued all the way to Japan - problems with perished valve seatings being the only blemish, necessitating new innertubes - Sam was not so lucky. He made the mistake of riding across a field in the dark, somewhere in Eastern Turkey looking for a place to camp. In the morning, as we repaired his multiple punctures, we could see that the field was a mass of large thistles. I remembered the drawing pin exercise. Sam suffered 15 further puncture episodes that day as the tiny, invisibly embedded spikes repeatedly inflicted him with that sense of deflation. The extra protection of Marathon Plus on my bike had proved worthwhile.

Over those 10,000 miles and ever since, I have added to the protection given by the Marathon Plus tyres I would now not be without. Sam and I came to realise the benefit of watching where you're going. There's all sorts of debris lying in wait for you on a road, just ready to deflate you. If you watch, you can see it coming. It can make the difference between a good day and a horrible day. What makes punctures so potentially damaging, is that while you are in the process of repairing one, you often do some other damage to the bike. A bad temper, haste and tiredness do not help. Even something simple like failing to reattach a luggage strap, which then gets caught in the back wheel and mashes your gears, or a trapped gear cable when you retighten the back wheel, or a tiny shard of metal sheared off the tyre lever or the rim, getting itself lodged inside the tyre can be deadly. I once read of someone (Christopher Smith) getting stuck in Greece for a week, waiting for new tyres after an almost invisible strand of protective wire in the tyre rim (dislodged by the tyre lever when mending a puncture), caused multiple further punctures and was almost undetectable. The poor guy almost lost his mind with frustration. So better left well alone. Inspect your tyres for cuts and things sticking in them but avoid taking those tyres off and on if you possibly can. It could be the start of something diabolical.

In the four years since we completed that epic trip, I have cycled a good deal and have not suffered a single puncture. I've helped others mend theirs but none of my four bikes have succumbed. Punctures, in my opinion, really are something where prevention is better than cure. Having said that, I last changed my Marathon Plus front tyre in India around 7,000 miles ago. It's totally bald and has a split in the wall. I have a new one in the shed. I will get around to changing it one day, but I sort of want to see how long it will go before I suffer that near forgotten deflating feeling again. Sometimes reliability can get really boring!

FREEDOM - The thrill of cycling

What made me take up long distance cycling?

As it says at the beginning of my book, I discovered the joy of cycling at around 4 years of age.
'I realised at the age of four that a bicycle was the key to freedom. The joy I felt as I first escaped down the hill from my home has never left me.'

For many people of my generation, a bicycle was their first real taste of freedom. Back in 'the olden days' parents might have been happier to let their young kids disappear for the whole day in a way that they wouldn't do now, but the fact was we had less money to go off on trips to theme parks or hop across the channel by train or plane, let alone fly to Florida to experience the dubious delights of Disney-world. But what we did have were bicycles. Bikes were fairly cheap, especially if like mine it was second-hand. I soon learned that I could travel quite some distance from home on my old bike (so long as I had a puncture outfit and a bone spanner). My cycling friends and I survived for a day on hastily prepared doorstep cheese sandwiches, an apple and perhaps some 'pop' from a shop. We talked to kindly old ladies, who sometimes invited us in for tea and old men who helped us fix a chain or a puncture. We had no mobile phone to call home if we had a problem. Once we were gone, we were gone for the day, with no real idea of what lay ahead of us.

I look at children of the same age (11 or 12) now, with their i-pads and playstations or sat for hours in front of mindless TV pulp, and I despair. This was why, after years of giving cycling a rest, I began to encourage my 10yr old son to come cycling. I didn't want him to become one of those kids. I wanted him to experience what I had, albeit with me so I didn't need to worry. Yes the thought of allowing a ten or eleven year old to go off cycling all day alone or with a friend is pretty scary. Not because the risks are higher - I'm sure they're not - but because we've changed. Not for the better, in my opinion.

As it turned out, encouraging my son, Sam, to come on a little (40 mile) cycle expedition over a couple of days when he was ten, put something more than a a set of bike wheels in motion. At the end of that 2 day trip, Sam asked me if I'd cycle to Japan with him. I remember chuckling to myself at first. Did he know how far it was, I asked. He didn't but he said we'd have a year to do it if we did it during his 'gap year.' At least he knew what a gap year was. Ten years later, after a few practice trips around southern England, France and Belgium, we set off on the 10,000mile journey to Tokyo. I have never stopped cycling since and nor, I'm pleased to say, has he. You see I still feel that thrill in the pit of my stomach every time I set off on a bike ride. I can't quite believe that with such a simple piece of equipment, it's possible to go anywhere and to have so much fun. You don't need an expensive bike or chic lycra clothing. You don't even need to take much money if you have a small tent that you can put up quickly in a field next to a country lane. It's the simplicity that can be such a breath of fresh air.

So rather than leave that bike in the shed - the one you bought a few years back with the intention of getting fit and losing a few pounds of Christmas flab - give it a service and get out on it this weekend. Take a short ride to a country pub or a tea shop. You'll return home with a beaming smile. Thrilled by the wind having rushed through your hair on the downhills and boasting about climbing up the other side. And people will talk to you. "How far have you come mate?" or "I had one like that." You'll wonder why you left it so long.

Sam inspiring small Vietnamese children to cycle

Cycling As Meditation?

"Sorry Dad, that's not meditation."

One of my daughters is, I suppose, what you'd call a practicing Buddhist. She's spent the last 3 years working in a retreat up a mountain. I would never put that down. I've been there twice and it's an amazing place (www.ecodharma.com) with a very special aura and ethos. She's advised me to meditate to avoid or release myself from the unavoidable stresses of modern life.

When you're at the top of a mountain looking down on so called 'civilisation' 

meditation is far easier

"I already meditate," I told her. "I spend all day sometimes on my bike thinking as my legs follow a repetitive circular rhythm. It's so calming and I work out so many things that way."

"Sorry Dad, that's not meditation," she told me.

She said it in a kind way, and she followed it by saying that it was undoubtedly useful, but it was not meditation in the Buddhist sense of the practice. It was thinking about 'stuff' rather than your mind being full of nothing. Deep!

I've had a go at meditation in the formal Buddhist sense and I certainly know the difference now. It's a great feeling. If I tried to do that on my bike I'm sure I'd fall off, or ride straight into something. Not wise, I'd say. So on my bike I stick to my kind of meditation – that being 'thinking about stuff.'

So what kind of stuff do I think about. Well, let me say first that I'm talking mostly about long distance cycling. In my case that means about 80 miles a day on average (see my book 'Long Road, Hard Lessons' - link at the bottom) but it varies with the terrain and whether I'm on my own or with someone else. Personally I like to get into a rhythmic groove and just keep going. I don't stop much if I can help it. Very soon I'm zoned out. Don't try talking to me – the most you'll get is a grunt. My regular cycling friends get used to this. They laugh about how I just keep going – like an automaton. I don't feel pain, because I'm not there. I'm in my head, or back in my childhood, or somewhere in a planned future or something. Sometimes I sing too. I sing things that suit my pace and the terrain. Not always out loud – mostly it's in my head too. When I'm pushing hard uphill it's something slow but forceful like 'Police on my back' by The Clash or 'Hold Tight' byDave Dee, Dozy, Beaky, Mick & Titch. On calm flat sections with no rush it's 'I Will' by the Beatles and on a fast downhill it's probably 'Thunder Road' by Springsteen. And all the time I'm working through stuff. Hours of my legs going around and sorting out why it was I never managed to tell that girl at school in 1974 that I liked her, when the next property boom might happen, or why it was my parents had just laughed when I said I wanted to go to a drama school.

Monks cycling slowly to lunch in Laos. Proof that meditation is possible on a bike.

The thing about long distance cycling, is that you have plenty of time to pass and nothing much to do except look at scenery and keep your legs going around. Anything that stops you thinking about how much your bum hurts is good really. The thing about trying to sort this sort of stuff out at home is that you keep getting disturbed. Phones, doorbells, children, partners, sirens, car alarms, you name it. It's unavoidable unless you live out in the sticks and even then there's the phone. No the thing about long distance cycling is that you're busy doing something, but that something doesn't need any real thinking about. You can pretty much engage first gear and disengage the brain. You're free to let your mind wander, with no rude interruptions bar the odd cycle-hating motorist shouting 'wanker!' at you as they pass. It was an opportunity for relaxed thought that in centuries gone by men and women tilling fields or watching sheep all day long took for granted, but those days are gone. Sailing, walking and cycling have taken their place as the only way to get away from it all. I have no doubt that this is why mental illness and stress-related disease is so much more prevalent today. Do yourself a favour and get on your bike!

If you would like to read the bestselling travel book 'Long Road, Hard Lessons' by Mark Swain, you can find this along with his two collections of short stories on Amazon, Smashwords etc. 

In the UK his books can also be found in all Waterstones Bookstores.

Mark Swain on Amazon.com

Mark Swain on Amazon UK

Mark Swain on Smashwords

PRESS RELEASE

PRESS RELEASE        ––        PRESS RELEASE

For Immediate Release        ––        For Immediate Release

Father & son complete epic cycle-ride: 10,000 emotional miles from Ireland to Japan

Canterbury, UK – 24th February 2013

In England a 10-year-old boy, after only a day’s cycle ride, asks his father to cycle to Japan with him when he reaches 18.

Eight years later, Kent-based father and son Mark and Sam Swain (50 and 18), set off. After a torturous, nine-month journey – cycling 10,000 miles through emotional turmoil and physically grueling terrain – they reach Tokyo.

With the sport of cycling currently so negatively highlighted by appalling drug cheats, Sam’s dream expedition across Europe and Asia displays true heartfelt human experiences of both resilience and humour. Long Road, Hard Lessons is the true story captured from their journals, including the practicalities of cycling this staggering distance, as well as the bruises, breakdowns and emotional punctures they both encountered as they sorted out their thorny father-son relationship.

Physical challenges, border bureaucracy, health scares and traffic hazards were anticipated; what they had underestimated, however, were the conflicts they would face spending 24-hours-a-day together under such arduous conditions with an already tenuous bond.

On one level, a life-changing travel adventure, Mark and Sam’s story shares the psychological journey made in life by most parents and children. Daily conflict caused by the extreme pressures and long periods together, taught them things they had not expected to learn, and revealed how much a parent can learn from their child.  

Nicholas Roe, in The Telegraph, said, “If you want to understand the point of adventure and the way it can glue families together, listen to Mark Swain describing his hellish night of suffering half-way through an extraordinary 10,000-mile bike ride to Japan.”

Sam said, “I thought I was doing the trip for my dad’s benefit, but afterwards I discovered he’d thought he was doing it for me!”

Asked what the trip had taught him, Mark said, “Most of all, to strive for a future where we listen to the instinctive wisdom in our children. I’m listening now, Sam!”

– Ends –

Notes to Editors:

If you require any images from the trip, of the writers or of the book cover, or if you have questions about the contents or background to the book, Mark Swain is happy to be contacted personally at:

mark.swain58@gmail.com      Tel: +44 1227 760691    Mobile: +44 7930 542441

Mark and Sam Swain have appeared on BBC Breakfast TV. Susanna Reid commented, “A really inspiring story. It brings tears to my eyes.”

Their story was featured in The Telegraph, the Guardian and the Daily Mail, as well as The Times of India, The Japan Times, The Daily Yomuiri, The Irish Mirror, plus other national and international publications and on-line. A number of public talks have been given by the authors and more are planned.

Mark Swain is also the author of the award-winning short story ‘Special Treatment’ (Kinglake Modern Short Story Prize 2010) and a later book of short stories ‘Special Treatment and Other Stories’.

Long Road, Hard Lessons is available in the UK to booksellers via the wholesaler Gardners Books, and retail from all Waterstones stores. Internationally, it is available from Amazon.

You might like to look at the author's book blog for the latest information and comments:  http://longroadhardlessons.blogspot.com

You can contact the publisher at: admin@tinderboxpublishing.com

Amazon Author’s Page: www.amazon.co.uk/Mark-Swain/e/B008DRKT2G

Long Road, Hard Lessons – ISBN 978-0-9572002-0-3

Paperback with 25 colour plates and 7 maps

Published by Tinderbox Publishing Ltd, UK

Retails in the UK at £9.99

Kindle e-book – ISBN 978-0-9572002-1-0

(30 colour photographs + 7 maps)

Available from Amazon worldwide. 

Retails at US$3.98 on  www.amazon.com

Retails at £2.48 on  www.amazon.co.uk

Male Kissing Takes Off in UK Micropubs

Men kissing in pubs, whatever next!?

Micropubs are the most traditional and, some would say, conservative of British institutions – Strictly no mobile phones allowed, no food, no music,  and they only serve real ales straight from the barrel (no pumps). They don't serve lager! One of the best of these new establishments is 'The Just Reproach' in Deal, Kent. What came as a surprise to the locals there today, was the spectre of two men kissing each other.

To be clear, this was not an amorous act. One of the two was a Frenchman and the other an English author, writer of the travel / father-son psychology book 'Long Road, Hard Lessons'. But it still caused quite a stir. Fortunately landlord Mark Robson saw the funny side.

"It's not how you would expect to see two men greet each other in my pub, and to be honest I can't see it catching on as a Micropub tradition," he said. "Martyn Hillier, might have something to say about it if it happened in his place!"

Martyn Hillier is the infamous landlord of The Butcher's Arms in nearby Herne village. He opened the first ever Micropub a number of years ago (2005 I think). He's quite a character and is known as something of a determined traditionalist.

Needless to say the beer and the atmosphere in the above mentioned establishments is first rate. Check out the websites:

www.thejustreproach.co.uk
www.micropub.co.uk

Comments Received On The Cycle Book

Current Amazon rating for the book is:  5 Stars   Amazon Bestseller Rank: #17 in Kindle Store > Books > Nonfiction > Parenting & Families > Family Relationships

THE REVIEWS

N.B. Not all are flattering. Check out number 9.  Bloody kids!

1. Mr Mark Swain. Loving your book, you’re one amazing man with an astonishing family. T.D.James

2. I'm just reading your amazing book, the Lao Lao sneeze incident really made me laugh! Mark Rhymes

3. Just finished reading this book and it 'twas fab. Lots of laughing out loud and interesting moments. Thanks Mark Swain for sharing your journey xx   Tracey Davies

4. Friend from college (art college, back in the day) wrote a book about cycling from Ireland to Japan with his 18 yr old son. It's fab! Inspiring me for future cycling holidays with boys, but not to Japan!  Larraine Rettie

5. Hi Mark, Finished the book;
I have experienced so much reading it although I have never owned a bike! – The descriptive writing and relationship between you and Sam made for a very good read -
· I laughed aloud with the drunk getting caught having a piddle by his missus!
· I got hungry every time I read – proper food!
· I was astonished at some of the places you stayed
· And couldn’t believe the ‘risk’ taken when cycling along, going down waterfalls etc..
Brilliant!   Ian James

5. A friend recommended this to me, and WOW. I couldn't put it down!
Not only could I relate to my relationship with my father, but can also see how this also relates to me and my children.
You find yourself wanting to know what is around the next corner, how they will cope, and will they see the next day, let alone the end?
I suppose the only question is where will they go next? I for one will sign up for the Japan to Ireland book if it ever came off.
I would recomend this to anyone, grab a copy and enjoy. There is something in there for everyone! Thanks. Richard

Highly Recommended. Bought this as a stocking filler for my partner and he couldn't put it down. I have never known him to talk so much about a book before. He is a keen cyclist and also has a grown up son so he could relate to everything that was written in the book. This is much more than a story about 2 guys cycling to Japan (his words not mine). Helen

6. The author of this book has created a masterpiece - engaging from the first word. I did not get bored at all. The book also has pictures and beautiful maps so you can fully engage in what is going on. Would recommend.  Lopez

7. Excellent. Well written, honest and compelling. A real adventure that inspires the imagination. The descriptions of physical challenge and emotional reflection combine to make this a great example of travel writing. David H

8. Fantastic Read. Not the type of book I usually read but I really enjoyed the book and the different perspective from Mark and his son Sam. Made me want to visit some of the locations and avoid others at all cost. Tracey.D.

9. A good read. Thank God this man was not my father; he would have driven me mad. A very long suffering son. Steven

10. Excellent! A psychological, spiritual and philosophical, inspirational connection between father and son. When I read the book, it almost felt like someone was speaking to me. His experiences are very well explained, I felt like I was living the experience. I would love to recommend this book to my friends, if only it was translated in French. I recommend this book to anyone, especially those wanting to experience the journey themselves. Veronique

11. I love reading guides but not many travel stories as I normally get bored pretty quickly. I just drift off to my own travels. However this was different. I loved the fact he had used such a good opportunity to share the adventure with his son. Such a long way and a long time, well put across, thanks for sharing. W.G.Skipper

12. Mark and Sam have written this book honestly and from the heart. It is a great adventure and kept me interested all the way to the end. I liked their honesty and found it refreshing to read about a man who so obviously wants to improve his relations with his son while also working on improving himself! La Lucy.

13. Read it, you will love it! As you follow Mark and Sam on their journey from the UK to Japan it is fascinating to read about the highs and low's that they come across along the way. I love the way that you read Marks version of what happened and then Sam's and how different the journey can feel through a different set of eyes. This is an insight into different countries and cultures and the great people that they meet along the way. It is a great read about father and son relationship as well as the trials and tribulations of an amazing cycling experience. An entertaining and interesting read for all. Linzi.B.

14. A compelling read. I read this book in one sitting, which is unusual for me, and found it quite compelling. Like some other reviewers have commented, it can be enjoyed on several levels. The psychological journey unfolds in parallel with the gruelling physical journey. Descriptions of the many locations were fascinating and memorable and real eye openers - especially when father and son stayed in less than glamorous lodgings! Their stamina and openness is impressive. Recommended reading! Veritas

15. Fascinating website Mark, I launched 1 child (now 40) and have 2 teens to go... you're my new hero:) Seeley James

16. Something for everyone. So far, this is a great book! (I'm a third of the way thru'). Never a true word said using the phrase `there's something in it for everyone'; if you love to travel and want to learn a little about the countries they visited and locals they met along the way, if you love cycling (this book would equally be invaluable for those who choose an engine instead of pedals!), if you want to do the same kind of journey (with or even without one of your offspring!) and if you're a dad, (my son is 8 months old and I have much to learn. At times reading this book, it also made me reflect upon my relationship with my own father, which may not be a bad thing), if any of the above strikes a chord with you then give this book a try.
One of the messages I have taken from this book so far, is that if you're a successful businessperson with a loving family; who `says' you can't take some time out for a journey like this, it's what life is all about.
It's fascinating to read what goes thru' the minds of a dad and his son during the long hours on the road and to read about how they deal with all sorts of challenges on route, it's as interesting to read about how they deal with all the `good stuff' that happens too.
It's extremely well written and has a nice helping of humour along the way, I feel like I'm on the journey with them, both physically and mentally, I'm looking forward to the next country! Colin.