Where the Hills Meet the Sea

Daily miles: 35.4 | Total miles: 9,487.65

My alarm rang at 5:30 a.m. — coffee first, then booking a room for the night. I’d checked a few options the evening before, but sometimes I like to book clearheaded, after a night of sleep. This morning, however, I realized that wasn’t the best idea — no rooms available at the place where I thought I would run to. Saturday night! Maybe a concert, a casino night, or some local event — who knows.

After trying several places, I went back to the hotel I initially wanted — and there it was: one room left, smoking, but who cares. I booked it. Now I had a goal, a focus — no lingering, no delays. The map said 39 miles and some stairs between here and there. That made me a little nervous, but these are the small hurdles that come with crossing bridges — literally and figuratively.

I started running just before 7 a.m. The forecast said rain all day, but it wasn’t too bad — some drizzle, some rain, some dry phases. The first eight miles were downhill — a good way to wake up the legs, holding onto the buggy, adjusting to the uneven surface, cautious with the wet ground. Traffic lights, narrow sidewalks, overpasses with stairs, barriers, weeds growing through the pavement — constant little puzzles to solve. Add in cars, pedestrians, cyclists, and you’ve got a full day’s mental workout before even counting the miles.

At mile 10, I stopped for a snack — my new favorite: a rice, barley, edamame, and kelp triangle from a convenience store. Standing under a roof, cold and wet, I still enjoyed every bite. Not long after, I reached the Pacific — Suruga Bay. Cloudy, grey, calm. I love the ocean — the smell, the breeze, the horizon that never ends. There’s always something grounding about seeing fishermen at work; their patience is almost meditative.

A long promenade stretched ahead, a cycling path right beside the water — and for a while, it was all mine. I thought about people living in dense cities, surrounded by movement and sound, and wondered if they long for moments like this — to be completely alone with space and silence. Even at home, I often marvel that I can be in such beautiful places, running all by myself. I sometimes think: where is everyone? Are most people watching TV instead of being out here?

Then Google directed me back to the main road and, a few miles later, onto the promenade again. A small obstacle appeared — a chain blocked the road. My buggy was too wide to pass, but with lifting the chain and a lot of determination, I made it through. Two people appeared just then and helped me — we tried to talk, but conversation was difficult. They seemed to understand what I was doing but, as usual, found it hard to believe. We took a picture, smiled, and said goodbye.

Later, along the promenade, I saw a young boy doing training runs. The second time I passed him, I asked if he spoke English — he did, a little. We chatted briefly, took a photo, and he seemed amazed at the idea of running around the world. Encounters like these — fleeting but full of energy — always make me smile.

Eventually, I left the promenade and followed a busier street. Then Google led me through narrow, twisting lanes between old wooden houses that reminded me of small Swiss mountain villages. I passed a fish stand, and when I told the three men inside that I was running from Tokyo to Fukuoka, they couldn’t believe it. More laughter, another photo, and off I went again.

I followed the Pacific Cycling Route, often running beside traffic but always rewarded with dreamlike views: the ocean to my left, a deep green hill to my right — trees and bamboo blending into one soft, fluffy canopy. It felt alive, breathing.

Three miles before the hotel, I stopped at a grocery store. Day five in Japan, and I already feel more at ease finding food I like. It’s amazing how quickly we adapt. I still can’t read most labels, so I rely on pictures and recognizable letters. Shopping takes longer than anywhere else, but I’ve come to love the small portions and tidy packaging — a good system! You can always buy two, but you never buy too much.

A few reflections from the day:

• Two days ago, I saw a snake — some people didn’t believe the photo was real, but yes, it absolutely was!
• I often see spiders here — huge webs spanning wide spaces, with big spiders hanging calmly in the middle. I don’t think they’re toxic, but they’re impressive.
• No flies so far — how nice is that?
• And on a cold, wet day, I can confirm: a heated toilet seat is an invention of genius. Once you get used to it… there’s no going back!

My hotel tonight had self-check-in — like an airport kiosk. I scanned my passport, and out came my receipt and key. It’s fascinating to imagine how daily life will look in 20 years.

A long, wet, beautiful, exhausting day on the road.

Thanks for checking in — see you tomorrow. Andrea