I received a sudden message from an old cycling friend: "Would you like to go on a tour of the Fukushima Daiichi Nuclear Power Plant?"
I said yes without a moment’s hesitation. To me, a bicycle is a tool for traveling to places; if someone invites me to something that sounds interesting, I’m always in.
Wait, is it appropriate to call this "interesting"? I think everyone can still remember the accident at the Fukushima nuclear plant caused by the 3.11 Great East Japan Earthquake as if it were a recent event, and I am aware that some people are still living as evacuees.
The act of facing such realities and visiting tragic sites for travel has come to be known as dark tourism (Wikipedia). I headed to Fukushima with a mix of curiosity and dread—the same feeling I had when I traveled through the Balkans as a student because I wanted to see the landscapes of war.
Bicycle Culture Hub "NORERU?"
Our meeting point was Tomioka Town in Fukushima Prefecture. I decided to ride my bike there from Iwaki City, a bit further south.
I’d wanted to visit the bicycle culture hub "NORERU?" in Iwaki for a long time.
Located in a corner of a massive facility that includes a giant Under Armour logistics warehouse built in the wake of the earthquake reconstruction, along with the Iwaki FC training grounds and clubhouse, I was surprised by the contrast. Stepping inside, I found a unique space featuring three protruding wooden house-shaped structures.
After chatting with the staff, I learned that this place serves as the office for the Japan Para-Cycling Federation, features a shared kitchen and tatami space, and handles bicycle maintenance and sales. It became clear that this isn't just a facility for cyclists, but a place where various cultures intersect.
NORERU?
https://noreru-iwaki.jp
Instagram
https://www.instagram.com/noreru_iwaki/
Jiku-Sanso (Time-Space Wandering)
Another initiative based out of NORERU? is "Jiku-Sanso," a community cycle tourism project that includes guided bike rides exploring local culture and maps summarizing them.
I believe that understanding the history of a place is just as important as just riding to a destination; it makes the ride feel more multidimensional. The map summarizing this information was incredibly well-made and impressive.
Jiku-Sanso
https://jiku-sanso.jp/
After getting a recommended route to Tomioka from Umezawa-san, a former national team mechanic who works at NORERU?, I started my ride in earnest.
He showed me a route that followed the coastline, avoiding the heavy traffic of National Route 6, and even pointed out several minor escape routes.
In particular, the 53km "Iwaki Nanahama Kaido" Reconstruction Cycling Road along the coast was wonderful in terms of both scenery and ease of riding. It’s also unique how disaster prevention and cycling paths are beautifully integrated, with some sections of the massive tsunami levees serving as the road itself.
I had a delicious sashimi set meal at "Sengyo Shokudo Urokoichi" and headed further north. I passed through J-Village, a name I heard often on the news at the time of the disaster. Looking into it, it was originally a sports facility centered on soccer, built by TEPCO as a way to give back to the local community, but it was requisitioned by the government during the disaster to serve as a base for responding to the nuclear accident.
As you ride along the coast of Fukushima Prefecture, thermal and nuclear power plants appear one after another, mixed in with the beautiful scenery of small rivers flowing into the Pacific, gentle hills, and sandy beaches. While the Fukushima Daiichi and Daini plants were said to have provided 20% of TEPCO's total power generation before the disaster, the thermal power plants in Nakoso and Hirono in the same area are also massive, allowing me to physically sense the reality of how much the city center depends on Fukushima Prefecture for its electricity.
Beneath the Moon, Sea of Time
Large new levees, train stations where every building is brand new, and vast vacant lots covered in weeds. Feeling a sense of discomfort at the landscape where, while the natural beauty remains, the abnormality of the man-made structures stands out, I arrived at the office for the "Sea of Time – Tohoku" project in Tomioka Town, my destination for the first day. This is also the Tohoku office for world-renowned contemporary artist Tatsuo Miyajima.
Tomioka is a town just a few kilometers from the Fukushima Daiichi plant. At the time of the disaster, it was hit by a 21-meter high tsunami, and the entire area became an evacuation zone due to the nuclear accident.
While the evacuation order has now been lifted and ordinary life is returning, the population, which was 16,000, has dwindled to around 2,000.
Tatsuo Miyajima has been working to open a new art museum here that integrates recovery. At the office, people who moved here from various places gather, and cultural events seem to be held regularly.
That day, a talk event by graphic designer Rikako Nagashima was held and was packed and successful. Her talk, as someone who was nearly a university classmate, was centered on how she has utilized the power of design and was very interesting.
At night, we drank late into the night at the house of someone who had moved to the area and talked about many things.
The sheer number of event flyers showed that not only new art museums and talk events like this one, but various cultural events are being held in this region. Everyone understands that the base for such activities is the money that comes in as compensation for this region taking on such a heavy burden, and the question of how to think about that is a subject of constant reflection and dialogue. It is a difficult issue, but there was a strength in the people who keep taking action there.
To the Fukushima Daiichi Nuclear Power Plant
We met up on the afternoon of the second day and finally set off for the tour. We gathered at the TEPCO Decommissioning Archive Center in Tomioka, where we first had our IDs checked and attended a lecture and video presentation.
The video explaining the accident by TEPCO begins with a deep apology. I was reminded of the dimly lit Ginza during the planned power outages when I worked as a messenger, and it left me with an indescribable feeling.
We confirmed our gear—while protective suits aren't required, long sleeves and pants are mandatory—and after leaving all our belongings, including cameras and smartphones, in a room, we departed for the plant by bus.
As we drove along the national highway toward the plant, many abandoned buildings remained on the hills of Tomioka. I was told that this is actually a significant improvement, and if they aren't demolished soon, the cost burden will only grow.
We passed through security gates and finally entered the plant grounds. According to the guide, 4,000 to 5,000 people are engaged in decommissioning work here at any given time. As a measure against heatstroke in summer, work usually ends around 2:00 PM, so many workers were on their way home, but there was more vibrancy here than anywhere else in the surrounding towns.
After various procedures, we put on dosimeters and switched buses to enter the main area. The fact that the reading on the dosimeter inside the bus was lower than in the surrounding towns is because of the thorough decontamination of the ground and other areas.
And finally, we arrived right in front of the reactor buildings. The dosimeter reading increased significantly. Stepping off the bus, those four reactor buildings were lined up in front of us.
The photos of the restricted-access plant site were taken and shared by the staff for safety management reasons.
Under the dizzyingly hot, clear summer sky of late July, the hydrogen-exploded buildings stood silently in a row. They explained the differences in the damage to each building and the countermeasures being taken, but it all felt somewhat surreal. What exactly is this? Why did it come to this?
When the tour ended, we passed through a gate to remove radioactive material and returned our dosimeters. We were told the total amount of radiation we received during the tour was about the same as a single dental X-ray. The explanation was that it is "sufficiently safe now."
After returning to the Tomioka Decommissioning Archive Center and parting ways, I rode my bike through the areas with many abandoned buildings. It seems a K's Denki store there was hit by the disaster just before opening and never once operated.
Can science really be trusted?
Why did a nuclear plant that was said to be 100% safe end up causing an accident? The Great East Japan Earthquake and Nuclear Disaster Memorial Museum in Futaba Town, which I couldn't visit because it was a closed day, apparently explains these issues in detail.
While there may be pros and cons, it seemed to me that TEPCO is genuinely facing up to the accident. But no matter how scientifically and logically explained it is, there is a part that I can understand with my head but not with my heart. I basically believe in human intelligence and reason. I believe we have the strength to overcome things, including all the errors that occur. Precisely because science has developed and we can do more, I feel that just like the use of the "power of design" that Rikako Nagashima spoke of, there is a need to think about how we use the power of science before we focus on research and development.
The Fukushima plant accepts about 20,000 visitors a year. It's all by invitation at the moment, so you can't just go if you want to, but I hope you visit if you have the chance.
About 70km, 2 days and 1 night with hotel stays and some "rinko" (bike transport). I’m currently testing an 11-speed setup using Alfine Di2, so I’ll share more when it’s finished.