The weather was muggy as I arrived in the city of Fukuoka on an evening bullet train out of Tokyo. It was 11 p.m and, made hungry by the late hour, I grabbed a bowl of ramen at a yatai (food cart), escaping the rain that had begun to fall as a fine drizzle.
Seeing my bike propped next to his stall, the owner, face reddened by the steam coming off the open soup vat, leaned across and inquired: "You cycling in this?" I nodded an affirmative and replied, "The length of the island. To Kagoshima." He grunted a reply, a flat tone of neither approval nor disapproval.
The rain eased as I made my final preparations and, wanting to escape the city while the roads were quiet, took my first pedals at midnight. With no traffic to contend with, it took just 90 minutes to cover the 40 kilometers to the old castle town of Akizuki, where I had arranged my first night's accommodation in a riverside house. I was exhausted, but pleased with my early progress.
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