I\u2019m a big believer in cycling as the optimum method of exploring a new area \u2014 especially cycling in Japan<\/strong>. As I cycled up and down the expanse of Shirahama<\/strong> (\u767d\u6d5c) in Wakayama Prefecture<\/strong> on two wheels, my preconceived notions were confirmed. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Hanging southward from central Honshu into the Pacific Ocean, the bulbous Kii Peninsula is defined by toothy rock features, wave-battered sea stacks, towering shoreline bluffs, and white sandy beaches<\/strong>. Wakayama Prefecture sits on the southern end of the said peninsula where you\u2019ll find some of Japan\u2019s most dramatic coastal cycling routes<\/a>. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Shirahama (meaning \u201cwhite sands\u201d) is a pretty seaside town, framing its namesake beach. The 500-meter-long cove opens up to the Pacific Ocean\u2019s embrace, with high-rise apartment blocks and hotels nestled behind it looking to the great horizon beyond. It\u2019s no wonder Shirahama is a popular weekend escape for city slickers in Osaka 100 miles to the north. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
On top of the scenery, Shirahama has long been a hotbed of geothermal activity; some of the individual onsen<\/em> (hot springs) have 1,350-plus-year histories. A range of therapeutic properties, from alleviating aches and pains to encouraging better blood flow, imbue Shirahama\u2019s bubbling spring waters. These factors have contributed to it becoming one of the top onsen resort towns<\/strong>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
On my first day in Wakayama Prefecture, I cycled through much of the fairly compact Shirahama town confines, visiting some of its most important sites. I passed scenery that would stop me dead in my tracks, tucked into an al fresco lunch with views the Pacific, boarded an elevator down through a rocky cliff to a former pirates\u2019 hideout before I sunk into a hot spring after dark. This eclectic combination of experiences really endeared me to Shirahama, while providing a perfect introduction to Wakayama Prefecture.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I flew into Nanki Shirahama Airport<\/a> on a fresh December morning, cold enough to merit a shiver as I stepped from the plane which had carried me the 75-minute journey from Tokyo. I met up with my travel companions in the one-room lobby of the tiny airport, and in the fashion of most visitors to Shirahama, we headed straight for the coast. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
In coastal regions of Japan \u2014 where the fish is, of course, rather plentiful \u2014 you\u2019ll often find a proliferation of Italian seafood restaurants<\/strong>, including Pizzeria Pescatore<\/strong>. It was at one of these haunts, a pasta and pizza specialist with an outdoor terrace with views of the ocean, where we dined on the fishy osusume<\/em> dish. Pescatore was not only the restaurant\u2019s name but also one of the best sellers on the menu: a mini mountain of looping spaghetti cooked in a garlicky sauce and topped with an assortment of local seafood and shaved parmesan. I may have rolled inelegantly out the restaurant post-meal, but a cycle was on the cards to reinject the energy of which the delicious carbs had robbed me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
After another short drive, we rented cross bikes from the GIANT STORE NANKI SHIRAHAMA<\/a> (electric bikes also available), which was conveniently connected to our accommodation for the evening, Shirahama Key Terrace Hotel Seamore.<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n
As we got pedaling along the coast, the winter sun blazed shimmering trails across the ocean\u2019s surface, while the undulating roads of Shirahama required us to break a little sweat. Shedding layers of quickly moistening clothing, we arrived at Senjojiki, a sandstone formation<\/strong> created by millennia of wave erosion, whose name translates to \u201cone thousand tatami mats\u201d indicating both its size and shape. Here, I got a real flavor of the kind of scenery the Shirahama coastline is famous for. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Senjojiki Rock plateau, part of the Yoshino-Kumano National Park, <\/strong>consists of little plateaus of sandstone that feed down toward the ocean in light brown striations. As we made our way toward the foamy breakers on the ocean side of Senjojiki Rock plateau, I couldn\u2019t help but notice the stone, composed of innumerable fine sediments packed tightly together, had a perceptibly soft texture. Further evidence of this could be seen in naturally-formed indents in the rock bed. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Next, we made a short skip along the coast to the Sandanbeki Rock Cliff, a viewpoint looking toward Senjojiki Rock plateau, and the eponymous Sandanbeki Cave,<\/strong> which plunges to sea level. From the 50-plus-meter viewpoint, we were met by headlands shooting into the ocean on both flanks and a vast seascape spreading out in front of us. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
The subterranean scenes were equally impressive, and to catch a glimpse of these, we took the 36-meter elevator down into the Sandanbeki Cave below. This network of tunneled passageways was at once atmospheric, with lanterns casting dim glows, the constant trickle and drip of water through the permeable rock, and a Buddhist shrine dedicated to the Buddhist deity of water, Benzaiten. At various points in time, the cave was also said to be a hangout spot for local pirate gangs and the KumanoNavy. Snippets of this loaded historical intrigue were studded around the natural walls of the cave.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
After heading into the depths of the earth, we sought to rise to the top of it, or at least one of the highest points in Shirahama accessible by bicycle. Climbing this hill \u2014 a feat not to be attempted if you hate strenuous exercise \u2014 we arrived at an observation deck in a roadside layby, located just after the pristine fairways of Shirahama Golf Club.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
From here, I got more of a sense of Shirahama in its entirety. It\u2019s not a large town by any stretch of the imagination, but it exudes class. Hills spill down toward a neat town center dominated by tall, white-washed buildings and the welcoming sandy cove of Shirahama Beach. The coastline of bays and headlands is met by an ocean dotted with little islets resting in isolation, yet almost within touching distance of the mainland. I stood there in admiration, drinking in the wintry air and renewing my depleted oxygen deposits. Then I was yanked from my reverie. The sun was setting, and few places this side of Japan offer better views of day segueing to dusk than our final destination: Shirarahama Beach<\/strong>. We had better make tracks. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
We left the observation deck and freewheeled along the snaking road toward Engetsuto Island, a rocky outcrop with a full moon-shaped hole puncturing its center. The rock, which can be viewed from the Shirahama Onsen Route<\/strong> running along the coast, has become a local icon, particularly on nights when the sun sets in the middle of Engetsuto Island\u2019s \u2018moon.\u2019 Unfortunately, we weren\u2019t to be so lucky on this particular eve \u2014 according to the Wakayama prefectural tourism office, spring and autumn are optimum sunset seasons<\/strong> \u2014 but the views were pretty splendid in their own right. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
A sky of blue, cottony clouds was separated from the horizon by waves of orange and yellow light. Boats moved slowly across the water, yet far enough off in the distance to seem at a standstill. A group of local camera enthusiasts bunched together with their bazooka scopes, unleashing flurries of shutters and clicks, and comparing snaps. It\u2019s no surprise people privy to this view every day still make the journey down to see what Engetsuto Island has in store for them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Our last destination was Shirarahama Beach<\/strong>, approximately one mile further along the coast. Few holidaymakers take to the waters this time of year, meaning we had the beach almost to ourselves, aside from a jogger huffing and puffing across the shoreline like Rock Balboa in a training montage. The sun sat deeper in the sky now, feeding it a liquid gold hue, its warmth counterbalancing the frigid bite of the sea breeze. I watched in silence, listening to the gentle lap of the ocean, and watching the sun slowly disappear into the night. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
To cap off the evening, we unloaded our bikes at the GIANT STORE NANKI SHIRAHAMA<\/a> and checked into the Shirahama Key Terrace Hotel Seamore.<\/strong><\/a> The hotel is a fusion between western chic and traditional Japanese minimalism. The former is represented in its marbled lobby and fluffy beds, the latter in its tatami seating platforms and kaiseki<\/em> (traditional cuisine) restaurant.<\/p>\n\n\n\n