Many quieter parts of Japan are best explored by car. But there is one challenge that you might not expect.
Surely this can't be right?" I mutter, scanning the roadside. My partner shrugs in the passenger seat. He hasn't seen any signs either. I can't break the law 20 minutes into our road trip; ideally not anywhere, but certainly not in Japan where rules are made to be obeyed.
When we picked up our car in Yufuin, a cute hot spring town at the foot of Mt Yufu (known as the Mt Fuji of Japan's Oita prefecture), the man at the car rental shop, who communicated to us via a nifty hand-held translation device, inspected my licence, set the GPS to English and handed us a cheat sheet of Japanese road rules: drive on the left, ensure zero blood alcohol, know how to recognise a stop sign (red, inverted triangle), and call 119 in an emergency.
Nowhere did it mention the speed limit and I didn't think to ask, assuming it would be self-explanatory.
As we set off east to Beppu, known for its almost alien landscape of colourful, steaming hot springs on the coast of Japan's southern island of Kyushu, Mt Yufu slowly shrank in the rearview mirror. The intermittent "50" speed signs felt right as we twisted and turned our way across the scenic mountainous terrain and I built my Japanese road confidence.
Until this point, the only country I'd driven in while abroad was New Zealand (barely counts), as I'm not particularly confident driving on unfamiliar turf. But, far from the chaos of Tokyo, Kyushu seemed like a good place to test my driving skills.
When we left Beppu to drive the 70 kilometres to Kurokawa Onsen, a quaint village where mineral-rich hot springs feed relaxing outdoor onsens, the traffic thinned and the road straightened out. I was feeling comfortable. But the last speed sign in town was 50 and I was sure we hadn't passed another. So, here we are, on an open stretch of road, still doing 50.
I'd hoped the roads would be quiet, but start wishing for a bitumen buddy whose example I can follow.
A few minutes later, my wish is granted by way of a family crammed into a snub-nosed Suzuki (which looks like it gets packed into a toy box, not a garage, at the end of the day), hooning past at what must be 70 km/h.
With our estimated arrival time steadily pushing out, Google Maps seems to think we're going too slow too, so I inch up to 60 km/h. It still feels unnaturally slow, and as we pass small Japanese villages (with an uncanny number of pedestrian crossings, but no pedestrians) and expansive farmland, I become the leader of a conga line of squat Postman Pat cars, patiently tailing behind me. "Bloody tourists," they must be thinking.
I need to consult Google.
We pull over at a viewpoint that overlooks the Kuju Highlands and let out a synchronised "wow". The sight of the bare winter branches and distant mountains silhouetted against an orange and purple sky makes me forget why I've stopped, and I step out of the car to take a photo.
An icy wind quickly sends me back to our cosy bubble, however, and I finally settle the score. When there are no signs or markings indicating the speed limit, drivers of regular-sized automobiles must obey the speed limits of 60 km/h on ordinary roads, and 100 km/h on expressways, the Japan Automobile Federation tells me.
So, 60km/h it is. Maybe the Japanese don't always follow the rules, after all.
I'm soon having trouble following the rules too, with my foot mindlessly accelerating to 80km/h at regular intervals (if only our little Nissan Micra had cruise control), which is what the limit would be in Australia under similar conditions.
I'd hoped the roads would be quiet, but start wishing for a bitumen buddy whose example I can follow.
But then, there are times when the legalised tortoise pace is welcome, because Kyushu really is a looker.
The volcanic island has towering mountains covered in thick pine forests, golden, stepped rice fields and deep, misty valleys, and when Google Maps reveals a tight twist of narrow roads on our way to Takachiho - the mythological birthplace of Japan - I'm happy to crawl at the signposted 30km/h to appreciate the arch of red and gold foliage that leads us to a turquoise gorge in the forest. Driving also gives us the flexibility to explore places that would have been in the too-hard basket had we limited ourselves to train travel. For instance, we're surprised when my phone announces "destination on left" along a non-descript stretch of road, marked by a lonely post office (kept company by a vending machine).
Lo and behold, just a few steps into the cypress forest opposite is one of the prettiest holy sites we see on our trip - Kamishikimi Kumanoimasu - with 100 stone lanterns leading up almost 300 steps to the shrine and sacred stone, Ugetoiwa (if you go through the stone arch, it's said that all your ambitions will be realised). It would have been a shame if we'd missed it.
So, though the speed limit often felt wrong, the decision to hire a car was definitely right.
Emily McAuliffe travelled courtesy of Visit Kyushu
