The bike is released from customs and the journey can beginD-day, I am at customs before opening time rearing to go. And so I hurry up and wait while the ever-pedantic Japanese bureaucratic engine grinds slow but exceeding fine.
After two hours and three photocopies of my passport, it is proclaimed that I do not have the document that says my Carnet de Passage (CDP) is in fact a Carnet de Passage. This can only be ascertained by a highly-trained member of the Japan Auto Federation in Ibaraki 1 hours train journey from here. I beat it off and return in 1 hour 56 minutes and the way is clear. All dues to the customs people, they worked through lunch for me.
The crate unscrewed inspected, the goods inspected and the bike reassembled, I am away across Osaka to my hotel for the final night. The bike was running badly until I tapped the carburettor a few times with a tyre lever.
Up at 6:00am for the ride to Fushiki. All geared-up and ready to go by 8:00 am. This is the first time absolutely everything has been on the bike at the same time and the spare tyres that I am carrying to Vladivostok prove to be a problem. There is no choice but to sling them on top and be 'knobbled' all the while.

It is only 350km on a road shown as a thick red line with route markers, must be like a Kiwi state highway. Not so, after the toll expressway out of Osaka it turns into a 50km/hr one-lane-each-way, no-overtaking, traffic light nightmare. Mixed sun and rain to Fushiki after 7 hours riding time. En-route all the battery-operated things stopped working including the electric start. A tall bike fully-loaded is not an easy proposition for one of modest stature.
Arrived in Fushiki to find that the promised ferry ticket had still not arrived. A faxed copy was available which got things moving with customs and me onto the ship to spend the night. The carnet was discharged by customs just ONE day after it had been entered. (Advice to self, never go via Japan, the various fees and the cost of carnet etc make it an expensive exercise unless you REALLY like sushi) Apparently Nagoya is even more expensive.
Lounged around on and off the ship watching the passengers hauling great loads of goods bought in Toyama. An ad-hoc market had sprung up outside the port gates selling tyres, mag wheels and car stereos (freshly appropriated, by the look of the vendors)
Every cranny of the ship was being loaded with second-hand cars. A mobile crane and a crew of Japanese were sending them on-board at 90 second intervals. This continued all day.
I was gladdened by the arrival of Frederick and Josephine, a Belgian couple in a Landcruiser fresh from Africa and 5 weeks in Japan. I had read of their exploits on the net and thought we might cross at the same time.
Also met Uwe Kraus, a German guy returning home after 5 years on the road. He writes articles for 'Two Wheels' magazine. His KTM640 Adventure looked surprisingly good after 170,000 km.

The last of the non-Russians were Daniel & Matthew, a couple of young Aussie guys bound for the Trans-Siberian. More of them later.
Our bikes and the Landcruiser were loaded last (the Landcruiser almost not at all). Sailing was delayed while we tied our bikes to the wall. They were unlikely to be still standing after a crossing balanced on the side-stands.
The ship sailed at 5:00pm and dinner was immediately served, it being 7pm ship-time. A taste of more that was to come. Cabbage and mayonnaise featured strongly with lashings of lard. I can hear my arteries crackling still.
The weather was calm and after a couple of hours the four overlanders Frederick, Josephine, Uwe and myself met in the nightclub where we were directed through the fire-exit, past the swimming pool with the cars in the bottom ('No Diving', 'No Splashing') and into a seperate enclave for Russians. There we met Oleg and the Australians working manfully on their 4th bottle of Japanese Vodka. We joined in toasting fraternity, our various countries and many inexplicable things. A secret limit was established among overlanders to leave after 10 shots. Food kept appearing, barbequed meats, tomatoes, pickles, bread, all was devoured. The shot limit passed and when I lost count after 17, I decided to leave. Not so our Australian neighbours who also had a head start.
Next morning, one was found in a dishevelled state in the stairwell after finding the cabin locked (there is only one key per cabin). The other, who had the key, had a more eventful trip to his accommodation. Details are sketchy but it did involve the front of the ship, the back of the ship, the engine room (where he was mysteriously covered in soot) and the lift (which refused to release him until the alarm had been activated and escape through the roof had proven futile). His movements after the engine room were evidenced by blackness on all things he made contact with, which included large parts of his cabin.
Surprisingly both were present for breakfast and looked to repeat the evening's performance by afternoon tea time. Such is the vigour of youth.
We steadily cabbaged and mayonnaised our way towards Vkladivostok arriving about 6am. The port is enormous full of vessels large and small. A triplicate of the entire New Zealand navy was moored in the bay.
We cleared customs quickly assisting Oleg by carrying a large 4x4 tyre each through customs.
Finally Russian soil!