Just when I thought exploring the cycling paths along the Kiso River was a great idea, I got a flat tire.

It happened just after I had crossed the river and started cycling along the opposite bank on my way home.

Until then, the ride had been surprisingly pleasant.

Before leaving home, I had dreaded the humidity.

Out by the river, however, a gentle breeze made the ride much more enjoyable than I had expected.

Then I noticed the rear tire had gone flat.

Suddenly, the ride was over.

I searched for a nearby bicycle shop, but I was in exactly the kind of place I had wanted to explore in the first place.

Quiet.

Green.

Far away from everything.

Wonderful when you’re cycling.

Less wonderful when you’re pushing a bicycle.

Google Maps informed me that I still had more than an hour’s walk home.

Fortunately, I had brought a bottle of water with plenty of ice.

It didn’t stop me from sweating, but at least it kept me hydrated.

What struck me most wasn’t the flat tire itself.

It was how much I still have to learn.

After cycling for many years in the Netherlands, I had become used to some of the best cycling infrastructure in the world.

Cyclists are given priority almost everywhere.

The roads feel as though they were designed with bicycles in mind.

Japan is different.

Along the Kiso River, I noticed shared paths for cyclists and runners, alongside separate paths for pedestrians.

It worked well, although the markings were not always as clear as I was used to.

The experience made me realize how spoiled I had become without ever thinking about it.

Today’s lesson wasn’t the flat tire.

That can happen anywhere.

The real lesson was that every new beginning comes with a learning curve.

And I have a feeling this is only the first of many rides that will teach me something.