22 Oct nd. We
are leaving Vladivostok on the Antonina Negdanova, a ferry
that goes in 2 nights to Fushiki-Toyama, not so far from Niigata
in Japan. It's 10 p.m., and we remain on the deck, hypnotised
by the lights of Vladivostok disappearing in the night. Good
bye Russia... On this boat, we are the only non-russian passengers,
and most of them are here not for tourism, but for the "bizness",
bringing back japanese used cars back to Russia.
After 2 days
of cruise on the japan sea, and a stamp on our passports,
... we were in Japan, allowed there for 3 months. No more
visa problems like in Russia, that was going to be good times
! We were only a little anxious about the formalities of import
and registration for the bike, which everybody said were a
bit long and complicated. But Yukiko, a young lady dressed
in a pink uniform, said there would be no problems, she would
do all the paperwork for us, and we would be able to leave
in 2 or 3 days. Cool...!
But until
then, the crew unloaded the bike, and it was stored in a big
warehouse on the docks. We were pedestrians again ! We spent
our first week in Japan between the port and the freight company
to see how things were going, and also the beach where we
were camping at night, since without the sidecar, we were
stuck in this tiny port, and given the price of everything,
sleeping in a hotel was no part of our plans for our stop
in Japan. But as the week went by, we began to realise that
it wasn't going to take 2 days... Because our bike was russian,
and so was our registration. But Japan and Russia are not
in such good terms, and they don't have any international
agreement on vehicles. And of course, we hadn't thought of
that ! And the staff of the freight company, kind and willing
to help as they were, seemed a little lost in this unusual
case. Despite our asking several times, they assured us that
there was no way to get a temporary registration in Japan.
And that we would have to go through a full importation and
registration of the bike, which would certainly include controls
and modifications... They told us a "Honda expert" was to
come and have a look at the bike, to see what modifications
would be necessary. But when this guy at last showed up, it
didn't really help much :
- "a lot of modifications, a lot of money"
- "What modifications ?"
- "Many"
- "But which ones ? "
- "Uh... a handbrake ..."
- "But we already have one, look !!!!
- "You will have to reorientate the lights because here we
drive on the other side of the road... A lot of time, a lot
of money..."
We then began
to realise that their "help" was rather slowing down the process
than anything else. So, we began to take steps by ourselves.
But... it was friday evening, the only long distance telephone
boot was out of order, all the telephone books were written
in japanese, the operator was asking for money for any phone
number (which in the end weren't even the right ones !), there
was not a single access to the internet to be found, the Ural
importer in Japan refused to help, and the french embassy
was closed for the week end. And when asking the freight company
how much it might cost to ship the bike to north America,
in case we couldn't solve this registration problem... They
told such a high price that we simply couldn't believe it
!!! That would cost us all our money, and would mean that
we would have to end our trip after only 3 months. Impossible
!!! It was then Friday night, and we had the whole week end
to think it over before we could do anything else...
Deadfull week
end ! We were feeling so dumb, stuck in this island where
everything is so incredibly expensive, ... Just the only place
where you should never be stuck ! We didn't want to sleep
on the beach just beneath the road anymore, so we moved with
our enormous backpacks. We began to walk towards the wooded
hill where we would surely find a place. After 40 mn of walk,
and numerous pauses because of our heavy bags, we found ourselves
at the bottom of ancient stairs in a middle of what looked
like a forest of bamboo. There was a spring coming out of
the mouth of a bronze dragon, where the people from the village
came to get fresh water in their plastic bottles, and sometimes
left a few coins for the gods. When we got at the top of these
stairs, we couldn't believe our eyes : we were just in the
middle of a beautiful shrine, small temples all around, huge
old trees. Everything was quiet and desert, except for an
japanese tourist taking pictures, and an old gardener sweeping
the leaves... We were stunned by the beauty and serenity of
the place, and began to forget all the rest : after all, we
were in Japan, and taht really looked much more like what
we were awaiting from Japan ! But as we wanted to make a picture
to remember that perfect moment... Bam !!! The camera fell
on the hard floor and got cracked. The magic was over ! It
then began to rain, and we continued on our way to find a
place for our tent for the night. What we thought looked like
a nice airy forest was actually nearly jungle-like, extremely
dense and humid, with liana and big spiders everywhere. But
eventually, we found the remainings of a concrete building
overlooking the town and the port under which we installed
our tent. It was now pouring rain... Welcome in Japan !
That was going
to be our "base-camp" for the next two weeks. In the morning,
we would hide the tent and our heavy bags under some tree
in the forest. Then we would walk down to the port and make
all our phone calls to try to find some solution. And every
time, it was the same story, we would speak to one person,
then a second, and a third one, who would eventually say "Oh
! But you mean a motorcycle with a motor... ? " Having to
speak in english made the task of explaining our situation
no easier. The incessant rain didn't help either. Every night,
we would come back completely soaked. And even our little
stove would not work, tired of too much poor russian gas :
we wouldn't even have the comfort of a hot meal ... In the
end, at the end of the second week, we decided to quit : the
custom broker of the french embassy is on vacation in France
for 2 weeks; the japanese Ural importer who finally decided
to help us, told us that all the papers and controls would
take between 3 weeks ans 3 months (as it did for the last
bikes that he imported himself), that we would have to put
together a file on the hand brake... and that the whole operation
would cost us no less than three thousand US$... So we decided
to forget all about it. We got the phone numbers of shipping
companies through the french embassy, again. And a couple
of days later, a truck came to bring the sidecar to Kobé -
as we weren't allowed to drive it at all, even to get it shipped
- from where it would depart to Vancouver.
And so far as
we were concerned, we wouldn't stay in that place any further.
A last shower in the public toilets, a check of all our bags,
and we were off to the nearest failway station, where we would
take a night bus a few hours later, to Tokyo. Our plane, booked
that very morning, would not leave until 2 days later, but
that would surely not be a problem : we would find a little
place to sleep in the airport, and at least that would be
an occasion to have a look at Tokyo !
|
|