While Fuji-san was well and truly hidden while we were on his doorstep in Hakone, on mum and dad’s last morning in Kisarazu he popped up above the clouds and we were able to see his snow covered peak. We were able to see him as we walked to the school bus stop on Tuesday morning.

Across the port of Kisarazu, over Tokyo Bay and about 150km away sits Mt Fuji.

Fuji- San

Was wohl passiert, wenn man da runterfällt?

Schwere Entscheidung?!?

Dafür schwänzt man gern die Schule

Heute morgen ging es los. Ich und ein französischer Student meiner Schule begaben uns auf den Weg zum Fuji- San. Von JTB, einer Travel Agency in der nähe meiner Schule, wurde alles organisiert. Mit dem Bus ab Shinjuku fuhren wir los. Wir waren die einzigsten Ausländer im Bus. Alle Informationen wurden uns auf Japanisch mitgeteilt, was uns aber reichlich wenig interessierte. Uns genügte was wir sahen.

Kurzer Stopp. …Hunger?

Die fünfte Station auf Mt. Fuji war unser erster Halt. Ein Glück, dass ich meine Jacke im Bus gelassen habe, der Wind da oben war nämlich aller höchstenst Orkanartig. Es gibt einige Läden und Kaffees dort oben. Es gibt Backwaren und jede Menge Ramsch vom Mt. Fuji natürlich. Der Tee war zwar umsonst, aber genauso hat der auch geschmeckt.

Da lass uns hingeh`n!

Wem gehört die Welt?  Mir gehört die Welt!

Das ist doch der Gipfel!

Netter Ausblick!

Zweiter Halt

Weiter geht es zum wohl bekanntesten See am Mt.Fuji. Dort trank ich dann einen warmen Sake und ass einen Fleischspieß (Floisch!!). Natürlich wurde auch hier wieder viel fotographiert, da der alte Fuji nicht weit war. Was den Japanern besonders gut gefällt, ist die Symmetrie des Fuji- San.

Das nen` ich Kunst!

Wir zwei beide.

uiii,……soo viele Farben….

Schön, nicht?

Das Beste zum Schluss

Vom eisigen Wind auf Mt. Fuji, hinein in die heißen Quellen:Onsen. Diese befinden sich in einem Gebäude, in dem unter anderem auch ein Restaurant ist. Doch wo immer man auch hin möchte, die Schuhe werden am Eingang in einem Spind verstaut. In diesem Bad waren die Frauen wie in den meisten Fällen von den Männern getrennt, da man eine Onsen nur nackt genießen darf. Das hat den armen Franzosen etwas abgeschreckt. So musste ich mich alleine ins Abenteuer wagen. Hauptsache ich habe es geschafft mit meinem Handy ein paar Bilder zu machen, weshalb ich den ein oder anderen bösen Blick einfangen musste. Doch einer scheinte mich zu mögen. Wir redeten eine Zeit lang miteinander. Da jedoch neber uns das Wasser plätscherte und meine Japanischkenntnisse sehr zu wünschen übrig lassen, musste ich sehr dicht an ihn heran, was mir dann doch etwas unangenehm war. Nicht nur wegen seines Mundgeruches. Total begeistert von mir, gab er mir seine komplete Anschrift. “Ich solle ihm doch bitte einen Brief auf deutsch schreiben, damit er auch meine Sprache lernen kann.´´Geduscht wird übrigens im Sitzen auf einem kleinem Hocker. Seife ist vorhanden. Zum Einseifen und Abreiben benutzten alle das klitze kleine Handtuch, das jeder ausgehändigt bekommen hat. Nachdem ich fertig war, hatte ich noch fünf Minuten Zeit um zum Bus zu kommen. Also bestellte ich noch eine riesen Schüssel Nudelsuppe. So mussten die Leute im Bus sich eben noch etwas gedulden. Sorry Deutschland, hab`s versucht mit der Pünktlichkeit.
Völlig erschöpft sind wir dann wieder in Shinjuku angelangt.

The summit of Mt. Fuji.

Having completed our trek up and down Mt. Fuji, with my leg in a degree of controlled agony, my eyes almost cemented together through lack of sleep and my underarms more malodorous than twelve-hour roadkill, getting naked in a Japanese hot-spring (onsen, in the native tongue) was not my idea of relaxation. I couldn’t have been more mistaken.

The onsen was basically a public bath-house. With my prudish English streak in overload, I felt bloody uncomfortable about climbing into some massive communal bath with my Crown Jewels exposed for the entire orient to see. This, of course, highlights the typical male ego; no one really wanted to look at my member, for they were of course washing themselves and not rampantly drunk homosexuals bent on assailing my genitalia (though I’m positive an old fellow kept eyeing me from the jacuzzi…). After a somewhat timid first soak, it was relatively easy to feel, well, at ease, though I’m sure it would have been a lot worse if the bath-houses hadn’t been gender divided. Oh, that would have been dreamily awkward…

Me big European man…

I do apologise, I was…fantasising…

Ahem.

There were several hot baths (some incredibly hot) and one extremely icy cold bath that I suppose had some sort of cleansing, homeopathic healing thing that my increasingly hippie mum would probably buy in for. I lasted about twenty seconds in the sauna before I felt like my body would implode. How can anyone breathe in those damn things? I thought I was experiencing some sort of mild heart-attack. The outdoor bath was certainly the best, despite the view of several Japanese men sunning themselves on the loungers. With such fine Japanese weather, the cooling breeze and the warm water would’ve easily put me to sleep. Regardless, it was an experience I wouldn’t forget, and one that become twice more familiar in the coming week.

We left the onsen at around two o’clock in the afternoon and got back to Tokyo at about four, arriving at H.’s an hour and a half or so later. As I lay down in my room, I was aware that my leg ache was still very much there; trying to ignore it, I closed my eyes in a vain effort to sleep, but to no avail.  The pain was too overpowering. Considering my options, I knew I would have to act. Realising a trip to the doctor would be in order, I told H. and was whisked off to the local hospital.

Early comments from the hospital receptionist said that any sort of x-ray or scan would cost upwards in the region of €500. With only about €350 left, ‘concerned’ would have been putting it lightly. A young chap saw to me; he was extremely polite (with truly awesome hair) and H. did all the translating for me. The doctor was left rather puzzled – he gave no ultimate diagnosis, as I seemed to have no pain in the areas he expected me to have any, and pain in the areas he didn’t. After climbing Mt. Fuji, it was also pretty difficult to pinpoint exactly where the ache was coming from. He said I had a 1% chance of having developed DVT (in my hypochondria, I had linked my dead-leg incident on the plane to my shin) but considered it very unlikely at my age; eventually, he said it may have been the side-effect of some sort of flu as I appeared to have a mild fever. Bizarrely, he overlooked the glaring yellow bruise complete with matching lump on my lower leg, instead prescribing aspirin and heat-wraps. Being a startling delightful fellow (or more likely thinking, “Haha, you dumb fuck, get travel insurance next time!”), he charged nothing for the consultation.

Considering my mind had been put at ease, I immediately felt better. A little internet research in the evening revealed that my ache had probably been caused by a bone bruise. The bruise itself would disappear in days, but the lump could remain for months or more. Indeed, it’s only been this month – the start of November –  that I have noted its more-or-less complete absence. Funnily enough, I still get the odd pain there, depending on the weather. Frightfully unspiffing of it. Still, I rather preferred that over an aneurysm or tissue-eating necrosis.

The weekend passed lazily. D., disappeared off for a few hours to meet some of his work-camp friends in Tokyo (he had been in Japan a month prior to my arrival), and H. and I traipsed about the local vicinity, checking out the large, sprawling malls and arcades. My gods, do the Japanese know how to shop. And play arcade games. And drift RC cars.

Arcades in Europe *seriously* need to catch up.

Frightfully moreish Japanese snacks.

A Nakagawa mall, with its own RC racing track. Oh yes.

My leg was recovering well and I felt spritelier than I had before. We spent our idle hours planning the next week’s agenda – Nagoya, Nara, Osaka and Kyoto were all on the cards. It was going to be very busy, indeed.

The morning of September 3rd was the start of a long, arduous trek, but it was most certainly the highlight of my Japan trip – the Mt. Fuji climb. We ‘woke up’ at the very unholy hour of four o’clock, adorned all sorts of pseudo-hiking gear, packed our bags and headed off to the central Yokohama station where we were to get on a coach that would take us deep into Japanese hill country. It took about two and a half hours to get there, but the scenery was unique enough to compel me to stay awake for an otherwise uneventful journey. We arrived at the visitor’s centre at around eight o’clock and we started our ascent half an hour later. Led by a rather grizzled mountaineer, little did we know what we had coming.

Mt. Fuji's visitor-centre.

Mountain cloudscape.

The first stretch is always the easiest and Mt. Fuji was no exception. Even though I was happy that we only had to climb 1.5km (the bus had taken us most of the way up the mountain), I couldn’t help but feel a little concerned that the old volcano would suddenly become very difficult to traverse – it did. Soon, we were forced to take steep zig-zagging paths up the mountainside and every so often, Fuji-san would throw an almost sheer rock face at us that reduced the entire group to a snail-paced crawl as everyone was obliged to fall to their hands and knees looking for any available foothold. Fuji was rapidly becoming Everest.

It was – rather inconveniently – around this time that my left leg began to ache; it had been rather painful the day before, but I had shrugged it off like the hard, focused SAS type that I am. Thankfully, it seemed like most of the group was in similar discomfort, so the shuffling pace we had been reduced to allowed me to nurse my pain and worry about what sort of horrendous bone-eating cancer I had probably developed. As if my leg was bad enough, my lungs decided to express their tenderness. (I was actually a little surprised that they hadn’t already given me a Purple Heart for my ailments.) At around 3,300m, the air was naturally very thin; many of the older climbers took to using oxygen canisters that were available (at an extortionately high price) at the stop-off points that dotted the trail. Long, deep breaths were necessary to extract the most O2 from the air.

On the way up - air...thinning...

As time dragged on, it seemed like the summit would be some unattainable dream or that Mt. Fuji was actually some bizarre fantasy that never existed and was simply a figment from a catatonic state I had lapsed into some days prior. Finally, my prayers (to atheist god) were answered, and at around five thirty in the afternoon, we made it to ‘Fuji-san Hotel’, three hundred metres from the summit. As far as I was concerned, it was Buckingham Palace.

Our guide. Ended a lot of his sentences with 'ne'.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t Buckingham Palace; the entrance led into a large dining room (and what you’re picturing now is not what it was like, I can assure you) where we were brushed off rather hurriedly by a few of the staff and then shown to our rooms. Sorry, room.  Pardon me, dormitory. Excuse me – I actually meant stable. Well, okay, it wasn’t that bad, but even D. agreed that it was like being at the bottom of a famine ship, minus the chains and impending death. Our dormitory consisted of two sides, both having one top ‘bunk’ (it was really just a large plank of wood connected to the wall) which could sleep seven, all sharing one massive pillow and duvet. The bottom ‘bunk’ was the same, except the builders had thought the light bulb they had provided those the top with was enough, and that the unfortunate sods on the bottom could get stuffed and find their way about by fumbling around in darkness.

The Japanese have this strange ability to fall asleep in the most unlikely scenarios. After we had been given a small meal, those who returned to the dormitory seemed to fall asleep almost instantly. H. and his sister A. slept solidly until one o’clock in the morning when we were to begin our climb again, but D. and I were not so fortunate. As if the incredibly thick duvet wasn’t enough (and I hate to think of the bacterial population it housed), my fellow German produced two cans of vile lemon-flavoured alcohol that was either supposed to keep us going through the long night or knock us out sufficiently so that we wouldn’t have to worry about our rather squalid sleeping conditions. Alas, the only thing that our cans of Suturongu (‘strong’ in phonetic Japanese) succeeded in doing was to cause two toilet breaks (into the freezing air outside) and the loss of several hundred brain cells as I whacked my head so hard off the wood of the top bunk coming out from underneath, that I bled a few drops of my own blood. I don’t like bleeding my own blood.

When we did finally settle down to sleep, it was far from uninterrupted. I recall waking up twice for twenty to thirty minutes in my five or six hour slumber, and when I woke up again at midnight, I gave up and lay in darkness waiting for the others to rouse.

Fear my night-time photography skills.

After what seemed like eight millennia, our group set off into the night at around quarter-to-two. It was a desperately slow climb and the paths became steeper and steeper. From the light that our guide’s torch gave off, it looked as if we were climbing up Mt. Doom or another one of the Mordor mountains. I had managed to work my way through six bottles of water since the bottom, and I was running precariously low. Just when I thought I’d never see it, we arrived at the summit of Mt. Fuji, 3,776m above sea-level. With some hot food in us, we waited until around five-fifteen for the sun to rise; the light allowed for some pretty spectacular views and everyone seemed to be suitably amazed.

Sunrise on Fuji's summit.

The sun - it riseth.

Although I wasn’t truly flabbergasted by seeing a ball of burning hydrogen and helium float above the horizon, it was still quite the vista. Scouting around the volcanic crater, at six o’clock, we made our descent. Thankfully, it was nowhere near as difficult as the ascent, but it still took us close to three hours to make it back to the visitor’s centre. At this stage, my entire body felt as if it had received a serious beating from a heavyweight boxer – my back ached, my arse throbbed and perhaps worst of all, my accursed left shin was constantly reminding me that it was in a serious degree of pain. Finally making it back to the coach alive, we all fell asleep instantly as the tour-guide jawed about something in Japanese and waking up to him an hour or so later continuing his apparently rather long-winded speech.

Fuji's volcano crater.

On the way back down.

I was about to experience another Japanese curiosity – the onsen. Sausage-fest, meet your king.

Fuji-san…jedes Mal wundere ich mich, dass ich beim Anblick dieses Berges selbst beim x-ten Mal in Verzückung verfalle. Ich bin da aber kein Einzelfall. Fuji-san ist Kult.
Dieser Berg ist einfach eine Augenweide.

Fuji-san mit Kirschblüten…Fuji-san vor strahlendblauem Himmel…Fuji-san gespiegelt in einem See…Fuji-san im Abendrot…Fuji-san mit Schneekuppe…
Nun, lange Rede kurzer Sinn: hier einige meiner Lieblingsbilder:

Im Sommer muss man wirklich viel Glück haben, wenn man den Berg sehen will. Meist ist es so dunstig, dass er in den Wolken versteckt ist. Frühjahr und Herbst sind eindeutig am Besten, Morgen und Abend meine tageszeitlichen Favoriten.

Auf ein besonderes Naturphänomen warten zahlreiche Hobby-Fotografen im Winter: Diamond Fuji. Wenn die Sonne entweder genau über dem Fuji aufgeht oder versinkt und der Gipfel (falls man bei einem Vulkan so sagen kann) von der Sonne überstrahlt wird.
Diese Fotos habe ich gestern am 31.Oktober aufgenommen. Die Sonne stand momentan noch etwas seitlich und war binnen 3 Minuten hinter dem Berg verschwunden!

Nachdem das Wetter heute einfach fantastisch war, sind mein Mann und ich nach Yamanashi zum Yamanaka-See gefahren. Dieser liegt vor dem Fuji-san und die Wälder rundherum erstrahlen in den prächtigsten Farben. Ich liebe den japanischen Herbst!

Wir hatten unsere Fahrräder mitgebracht und drehten eine Tour rund um den See – 13,5km sind es. Sehr angenehm zu fahren, nur ein Berg geht wahrlich in die Knochen. Dazwischen blieben wir geschätzte 200 Mal stehen, denn ich musste UNBEDINGT alles fotografieren
(Aus diesem Anlass ist nun auch der Blog-Header herbstlich)

Am Abend wurde ein 600m langes Teilstück auch noch beleuchtet, und die Herbstfärbung (kôyô) kam zum Abschluss des Tages noch einmal glänzend zur Geltung.

25 days just seems so very inadequate to describe all we’ve done, all we’ve seen, everywhere we’ve been and all the love we have received! If I told you it all, you wouldn’t believe it! I don’t believe it myself. It actually occurred to me tonight that the amount of stuff we have done has been outrageous!!

Today we decided not to go overboard being tourists and had to give Tokyo Disneyland a miss. Instead we went to Tokyu Hands – CLOSED! We also went to the Imperial Palace – CLOSED!

Was someone trying to send us a message here? So we decided to cut our losses and go one more time to Loft where we found the cutest little cutlery rests (like hashi oki, but for a knife and fork) that are like long silver sausage dogs. Hmmm, sorry, bit hard to describe and I have already packed them so can’t take a photo. Perhaps when we return to Perth and there is nothing at all worth blogging about, I will post photos of all the funky little homewares we found!

The most amazing thing happened when we returned to our room too! I walked in and looking out the window, stated “Well, it looks like our first night was the only night we could take photos of the view – OMG!!! I think I can see Mt Fuji!!”. WE COULD SEE MT FUJI and what an absolutely awesome surprise it was! We now have photos of Fuji San from the plane, from the shinkansen, from the Hakone Ropeway and from our hotel room at the Metropolitan in Ikebukero! Better than the trifecta!

After the sun had set and we had toasted Fuji San and our last night in Japan, we headed out to dinner at Tokyo Thai – Tinun The Noodle Bar, in the Metropolitan Plaza. I know.. our last night in Japan and we eat Thai.  We’ll probably be sorry ourselves, in a few weeks time, but honestly, this is the yummiest Japanese Thai you could wish for.

So, tonight we are fairly much on a tight schedule. We arrived back to the hotel at 7.30pm and I commenced the arduous task of unpacking absolutely everything and repacking it into our two suitcases, one of which has been ‘takkyubinned’ ahead of us for the whole trip. We finally caught up with the monster case here in Tokyo, packed her to the max and hopefully, with her little sister we’re weighing in at under 40kg altogether, ready for our flight to Hong Kong tomorrow. We won’t talk about the 15 or so kilograms we have already posted back to Australia!

We’ve booked the limousine bus for 7.00am and I guess we might be saying a prayer that:

1. We wake up on time and,

2. It doesn’t take more than an hour and a half to get to the airport. Our flight is at 11am.

OK, as I look out our panorama window now and listen the constant train traffic (and Peter’s Braun shaver), I’m saying a bit of a teary farewell to Japan already. This is gonna be the last blog from here.

Sayonara from Japan (for now) and God bless you. We will see you in Hong Kong. How do you type tears? Sob sob….

Fuji San from Cathay Pacific Flight CX170 – 19 Sep ‘09

Fuji San from Shinkansen – 7 Oct ‘09

Fuji San from Hakone Ropeway – 9 Oct ‘09

Fuji San from Room 2236 of the Metropolitan Hotel – Ikebukuro – 13 Oct ‘09

I’m not one of those early risers you often meet at backpacker’s hostels. You know the kind. Keeners. Alarm set for daybreak. Chipper because they turned in early the night before. Their efficient yet loud movements through the dorm elicit grumps and groans from those less-enthusiastic. The keeners pour over detailed itineraries while drinking coffee from high-tech mugs. They stride out the door while I stumble zombie-like into the shared kitchen, fumble with the kettle, and pick sleep out of my eyes. I’m not denying my own keener status, it just takes me a while to get going in the mornings. That’s why, on my first morning at the hostel in Kawaguchiko, I was surprised to be the first one up in the dorm.

Conveniently located near the base of Mount Fuji, Kawaguchiko is a good base-camp to tackle Mr. Fuji himself, or the many day trips in the Fuji Five Lakes area. I contemplated the empty lounge as I ate my toast. In some ways it made sense. It was almost October. The tourist season is over. Mt. Fuji is technically closed. We’re the stragglers; the ones who put it off.. slept in.. missed the bus.. missed the season..

For my first day, I had a long but easy hike planned up Mount Mitsu-Toge. Figured I’d work up to Fuji, and hopefully find some hiking buddies in the meantime. But, about to head out, I met some guys from New York who were going for it. 

You’re welcome to come, one said. The first bus up leaves in 20 minutes.
Sure. Let me grab another water bottle.

When I came back, the first guy looked at my daypack and runners doubtfully. I’ll be fine, I told him. He finished lacing his hikers and swung his own expedition-sized pack onto his back. Only then did we get around to introductions.

Piotr and Adam arrived late the night before, straight off their flight from New York. They were jetlagged, running on adrenaline. We stopped at the seven-eleven so they could grab a konbini breakfast of champions to eat on the hour-long ride to the 5th station. I grabbed some onigiri for the road. We caught the bus from Kawaguchiko station. The summit was shrouded in cloud, but the ride up was clear and bright. The trees started showing their fall colours as we climbed in elevation.

We arrived at the 5th station just in time for the rain.

MoUnt FuJi as sEEn fRom LakE TanUKi in FuJinOMiY4 City ^_^

[taken in 2009|07 at Mt. Fuji]

One more picture because the sunrise was so beautiful!

Oh and yeah I’ve stopped using Star Wars Titles – I didn’t like Episode 1,2 and 3 anyway!

[taken in 2009|07 at Mt. Fuji]

This photoblog actually seems to work!! I finally get to write more often since it’s only commenting pictures and not so much about writing long texts.

I took this picture on our way down Mt. Fuji! The way back was as exhausting as the way up had been because the tracks were quite precipitous and consisted of loose pebbles. You really had to concentrate not to slip for like 5 hours. This combined to the sun burning a hole in your head will give you a nice headache! I’m glad I made it back alive somehow because at that time I really felt like dying! The landscape was nice though!

[taken in 2009|07 Sunrise at Mt. Fuji]

Rie, me and a few others from my dorm climbed Mt. Fuji in July. I, as everybody else, think that it was a great experience but I will never climb that mountain up again! We started climbing at 10p.m. and then climbed the whole night because we wanted to see the sunrise at the top of the volcano. It was cold, we lost our lights and the higher we got the air got so thin that our lungs started aching. The wind was strong that it blew my cap off my head (bye bye cap) and I lost my beloved sunglasses somewhere on the way up, too. Great! Besides the way up really sucked because it was not only paths but also walls you had to climb along and pretty dangerous tracks with the precipice next to you and no fence or any other protection. Remember the strong winds? Yeah… The sky was very pretty though. The stars seemed so close it was like you could touch them!

I became really good friends with Sai. He was my climbing mate and we made the best team ever! We had to split up into smaller teams because we were too slow as a whole group. Sai and me actually made it first to the top! The sunrise was breath-takingly awesome! We didn’t go up to the top to see it on purpose because you have a much better view if you are just somewhere near the top. Not so many people and honestly: sitting on a rock high up on a mountain with no fences or walls around you while watching the sun rise’s got something!

You could hear the wind barreling around the mountain that threatened your grip on the rocks, feel the sudden rain and sleet spitting out, and taste the mountain ash that forced it’s way onto anything that dared to tread it’s boundary.  The further you went up, the further you drifted away from life and into the dark coldness of space.  The further you went up, the more beautiful the world appeared as you measured it step by step.  The storm and splendor.

We started the climb at 9 pm.  By sheer accident, and because we started the climb at night, the group of us landed on the more difficult, steeper path up the mountain.

We tried singing songs to pass the time, but the air was already so thin we couldn’t seem to gather up enough of it to breath a single note.  Either breathe or sing, but not both.  I played Beatles songs in my head to calm my nerves.  “Don’t get too close to the edge of the trail.  Stay as low to the ground as possible, ” I thought.  I didn’t want to risk the wind catching me off guard.  I didn’t even want to think about what would happen if it did.

We quickly learned that when we heard an angry rumbling that wind was coming, and if you wanted to stay on that mountain you’d better cling to the most solid rock that was near.  Just focus on your footing.  Each step brought you that much closer to the summit.

Looking up, I could see a distant trail of flashlights that threaded up the mountain and out of sight; a trail to the stars.  Seeing that other people were also making their way to the top gave at least some reassurance on that cold, black mount.

I glanced out to see the cities glittering below. We were so high up that you could see over the surrounding  mountains all the way to the shining civilizations beyond; without peering out the window from the safety of a plane or a skyscraper.  It was just you and Mt. Fuji.

It was divine.  Never before have I been so cold or tired in my life, never have I felt air so thin, and never have I felt so speechless (literally) from the splendor that surrounded.  And even with my confidence that I would make it to the top dwindling as fast as the air in my lungs I still couldn’t help but recognize the marvelous sight before me.  I took every opportunity I had while I was clinging to that rocky face to glance out on that sight just one more time.  I just clutched the mountain thinking, “This is one of the most incredible things I’ve ever seen.  But what the hell were we thinking by trying to climb Fuji through the night?”

And once you start you can’t go back.  It’s next to impossible and far more dangerous to try to fumble back down the rocks you just climbed in the dark.  The only way to go is up.  We had to press on.  We had to make it to the 8th station.  It’s was there where a separate, safe down path started.

I was now 2 am.  The sun was to rise in under 3 hours,but it would take another 4 to reach the top.  Our idea to climb through the night and reach summit in time to watch the sun rise was romantic and naïve.  The thought proved to be good only in theory, but, at least this time, not in practice.

We finally reached the 8th station, over 10,000 feet above sea level and just over 2,000 to the top.  So close.  We had at least gained the comfort of knowing we could safely go back down; back to warmth, back to life if we needed to.  It was at that time, our group divided.

Two in the group were scared of heights.  After having 5 hours of the tumbling wind trying to pull them off the mountain and the cold biting at their bones they had had enough.  I myself was beginning to feel quite sick and increasingly concerned with my inability to breathe as well as everyone else.  The further we went, the more certain I felt I was suffering form altitude sickness.  The other two were simply waiting to finish the climb, unphased.  The latter two continued up while the rest of us handed over the $40 to stay in the station till dawn.

And so, not quite 3 hours of rest later, and barely time to warm our bodies, the three of us that stayed left the warm cradle of the shelter and went outside once again.  We accepted that we would not get the top by sunrise, and after nearly being broken by Fuji’s fierceness at night, we weren’t keen on trying to.  The most we could do was watch the sun rise from where we were.

It was 4:30 am.  The sky blended a rainbow of cool colors from the gray misty foothills to the darkened blue sky of the stars and moon above.  We looked out patiently as the sun gradually edged out of the horizon and chased away the night sky.  It colored the heavens like a drop of ink in a pool of cool water.

I took a deep breath and smiled.

De retour d’un week end de 3 jours, placé sous le signe des géants… Des immeubles géants, des villes géantes, des montagnes géantes, une expérience géante, des mirettes géantes sur nos visages et de géantes courbatures dans nos petites jambes franco-japonaises…

140, c’est en mètres, la hauteur du Sky building a Osaka, déjà visité, mais quand on aime… on y retourne, de nuit cette fois pour un beau panorama sur Osaka… 333 c’est, en mètres encore, la hauteur de la Tokyo Tower, puisqu’il nous était impossible de passer 2 jours dans la capitale sans la regarder de haut, et là aussi, de nuit de préférence… Enfin 3776, c’est, toujours en mètres, la hauteur de la plus magnifique montagne qu’il m’ait été donné de contempler, je parle bien sûr du Fuji-san… Et nous, bein on a marché entre tout ça…

Allez c’est parti, on remonte sur la terrasse du Sky Building…pas de grands discours à faire…juste à regarder ça :

Y a pas à dire, c’est beau une ville la nuit… Mais prenons plutôt le bus pour un trajet de nuit jusqu’à Tokyo…9 heures plus tard…

Nous voilà à Shibuya, quartier de mode et de commerces, célèbre dans le monde entier pour son carrefour que les hordes de japonais traversent… Ceux qui verront les vidéos du voyages verrons que c’est impressionnant vécu de l’intérieur…

Impressionnant, on a fait les boutiques…j’aime déjà pas la Fnac le samedi à Grenoble, alors là t’imagines… Allons vers un quartier plus calme…Harajuku…célèbre pour sa clientèle de loli-goth et autres marginales midinettes. Quartier de prédilection de Gwen Stephanie… malheureusement on est vendredi donc pas franchement des masses de Harajuku Girl…on avait manqué les Geisha (les vraies hein! Pas celles pour touristes que tu trouveras sur les blogs de touristes…genre geisha de jour = pas geisha du tout…tu le sauras..) il était donc écrit qu’on manquerait les Harajuku Girl à Harajuku… bref voilà quand même le quartier…

Il était temps d’aller se restaurer avec ma douce et son papa, qui vient d’emmenager à Tokyo pour le boulot…(sans ça on ne serait pas venu puisque la capitale n’était pas franchement dans mes priorités… j’expliquerai après si j’ai changé d’avis ou non)

Le lendemain, direction le Palais Impérial… Ca doit être quelque chose quand même ça!…

Eh bien non…voilà la photo la plus intéressante que j’ai pu y faire…comme tout ce qui est impérial visiblement, on a le droit de ne rien voir…juste les portes…on est arrivé au moment de la relève de la garde, c’était le moment fort de la journée…bref, suivant! on s’est bien promené, c’était agréable, mais pour les photos pour toi, bein désolé mais c’est woualou! Va sur Google Earth si tu veux voir plus de choses…

Alors allons à la prochaine étape :

Tokyo Tower… Alors soyons honnêtes sans être chauvains…Sakura a dit comme moi…franchement elle est pas très belle… bon outre la couleur qui lui vaut son surnom de tour carotte, elle est situées sur une colline, avec un centre commercial entre les jambes…si si! Presque pas de queue pour y monter (en même temps c’est mieux organisé qu’a Paris puisqu’étudié pour… donc 3 ascenseurs géants qui montent…pas trop d’attente donc. Juste le temps de voir la mascotte la plus ridicule du monde…loin devant notre honteux Footix :

Soyons sérieux! la vue était tout de même sublimissime et là pour le coup, mieux qu’à Paris selon moi…On arrive juste à temps pour dire au revoir au jour et bonjour à la nuit…

Voilà il n’y a plus qu’à redescendre à pied, et nous diriger vers Akihabara, LE quartier que je voulais visiter..temple des Otaku, sanctuaire du Hi-tech, du manga et des jeux vidéo…

Petite escale au pied de la Mori Tower, devant la sculpture de Louise Bourgeois “Maman” araignée gigantesque faisant partie d’une série de plusieurs “mamans” dilapidées dans le monde…

Pour finir la journée, rien de tel qu’un petit restaurant à sushi sous un pont de Akihabara… le repas est fantastique, et la musique en fond sonore plus qu’excellente puisqu’il s’agit de l’intégral des beatles… tout ce que j’aime réuni dans un pièce, et tout à coup, je réalise….je mange des sushi à Akiba, à Tokyo, au Japon… j’en pleurerais…

Allez hop! la capitale ça va un moment, mais comme je l’avais imaginé, c’est pas ce que je préfère… quitte à choquer des puristes, je trouve que Tokyo ne ressemble pas au Japon… bien sur je n’y suis que passé… mais quand même la mentalité, les gens moins disciplinés, moins sympa, tout ça par rapport à Osaka bien sur… Les Tokyoïtes ressemblent à des Parisiens, des New Yorkais etc etc… Donc je suis définitivement fan d’Osaka et de ses particulrités… Vive le Kansai! et d’ailleurs on y retourne à grand coup de Shinkansen… petit escale en route à Shin-Fuji, ville de bord de mer (enfin d’océan pacifique) où nous attends notre dernier géant…et pas des moindres…

D‘abord, on se promène dans les rues desertes… la ville est agricole et la grande usine de plastique au sud doit sans doute employer 60% de la population locale… on marche jusqu’à l’océan…en admirant des rizières, du riz récolté qui sèche… la campagne quoi…

Et puis voilà…on peut enfin se retourner… petite mise en situation… Nous sommes à Om d’altitude puisqu’au bord de l’océan… tout autour de nous, de petites montagnes découpent l’horizon…à gauche, à droite… puis tout à coup, elles disparaissent…comme si elles voulaient laisser la place…se faire discètes. Alors dans ce nouvel horizon plat, un Titan s’élève. Régulier. Unique. 3776 ,ètres au desss de nos têtes, il arbore fièrement son cratère clément mais en veille… A cet instant précis on sait pourquoi cette montagne est sacrée… Elle est sans doute ce qui ressemble le plus à un dieu et qu’un homme puisse voir…

Après ça, on peut aller se coucher…dernier Shinkansen de la journée pour retrouver Osaka et notre lit bien mérité…

De tous les géants qu’on aura vu en 3 jours, il est certain que le plus ancien des trois est et restera le plus impressionnant pour longtemps encore…

When I boarded the bus to Mt. Fuji on Day 2 of my stay in Tokyo, I began to wonder about how tiny apartments could be in Japan.

Triangular Building Tokyo Street

The expressways we drove through gave us glimpses into people’s lives in Tokyo, snaking as they did around buildings, always above ground, always at least two stories high.

One-room Apartments in Tokyo

I saw many, many one room apartment complexes, a Japanese building climbing up like a straight reed with toy doors and toy windows, and invariably, a flower or plant peeking out from behind the curtains.

Japanese Man at a Station

If you see the morning crowd rush, you would think the Japanese the most prim-and-propah dressers in the world, the men in suits, even those on bicycles, and the women in knee-length skirts and pump shoes.

None of the layered clothing, pink and green colors on hair, woolen caps, tall, strange shoes and boots and vibrant scarves I had seen on the Ginza yesterday. It is as if there were two Japans, two kinds of Japanese. One more corporate than corporate Europeans, and the other more punk than punks.

Japanese Tour Guide

Our guide, a bald, white-haired, spectacled Japanese, explained that one-room apartments were the only option for the young people in Japan, because real estate is very expensive. No wonder, given that Tokyo is one of the most densely populated cities in the world.

An average worker’s salary, he informed us, was about 48000 usd a year, which was not enough for a lot of things in Japan. His bitter story of Japan’s economic downturn and call for change in the recent Japanese elections continued through the day. We wondered if he had a single good thing to say about Japan. He didn’t.

We were stuck in a jam for most of our one-hour drive through the city. Our only consolation was we could see Mt. Fuji, or Fuji san, as we drove through a clear cloudless day.

The view became easier on the eyes as we hit the inter-state, and soon we caught glimpses of rolling hills and red-roofed toy houses in the green towns and villages we passed though.

View of Japanese Countryside on the way to Mt Fuji

The paddy-fields were a gorgeous, eye-catching green, and not even a lecture from our ironically smiling guide who informed us of the poverty of the farmers could dampen our spirits at the sight of the bright vistas that passed by.

When Mt Fuji revealed itself in all its glory, we fell in love with its symmetry, as if a child had drawn a mountain, equal slopes on both sides, the flat crater in the middle.

Mt Fuji, Japan, View from Fujiyoshida

I clicked a hundred pictures as Fuji san towered over the surrounding landscape, all inhabited, so very different from other mountains, accessible by road to the 5th base in four different spots,and an easy climb for most determined walkers.

As I looked at Fuji san through the window of my bus, he seemed to say something to me, only I couldn’t catch it. Lunch at a hotel surrounded by pine trees. A quiet place, shining, relaxed under the cool breeze and the warm, in-your-face sun.

Lake Kawaguchi, Japan

We then drove down to Lake Kawaguchi, one of the five surrounding Fuji, and from there admired the cloudless view of the mountain again.

Mt Fuji over Lake Kawaguchi

I had imagined I would not want to take pics, it was a snowless Fuji that met us after all, but I found I could not take my eyes off its perfect proportions. The surrounding hills and greenery were gorgeous too, but I just could not get my eyes off dear old Fuji san.

View from Lake Kawaguchi Mt. Tenjō Ropeway

We took the Lake Kawaguchi Mt. Tenjō Ropeway up the hill opposite the lake, and the view, as from nearly all touristy rope ways, was not un-spectacular. The thrill for me was going up through the pines though, and being able to see right into the heart of each one: tall proud, stately.

The drive to the 5th station up from Lake Kawaguchi is one of the greenest I have been on for some time, and I live in quite a green country. The road up to Fuji is paved but tiny, barely enough for the width of the bus, and I could imagine it from July through August, scores of climbers walking their way up towards the base, when the road is closed to vehicles. People trudge through the trail at night and climb up the mountain, for what I have heard is a magical, unreal sunrise.

The 5th base of Mount Fuji proved to be an enchanting place. On one side was Mount Fuji, and all around were pine covered hills, blue skies and clouds. Paradise must look like that sometimes.

Mount Fuji Details

Mount Fuji from the 5th Station

Vegetation below Mount Fuji

I sat myself down and looked up at the face of the mountain, wrapped in a shawl I had had to pull out.

It was chilly, and as I sat looking up, it came to me, what the mountain was all about. ‘I am big, and you’re small, and that is the way it should be.’

There was something comforting in its symmetrical, calm, overwhelming presence. Even though I knew this was a volcano, dormant but very much capable of destruction, I sensed a reassuring benediction pouring forth from it into the surrounding landscape.

I kept looking back as we drove down, catching occasional glimpses of the mountaintop and told myself it would be nice to come back and attempt the 7 hour hike to the top some day.

The drive back through the rolling Japanese countryside dotted with cute little homes surrounded by well-tended gardens that looked like pixies and fairies just might live there, was a treat in itself.

Gardens in the Japanese Countryside

We also drove through Hakone, a beautiful town that is on my list of places to stay in if I ever visit Japan again.

The bus tour ended at Odawara from where we took a 40-minute Shinkansen ride to the Tokyo station. While the eventual ride itself was rather uneventful, it was fun watching the bullet trains whooshing in and and out of the station while we waited for our Shinkansen to arrive.

We got back, tired but happy, from the Tokyo station back to our hotel in Shinjuku. It was my turn to explore Tokyo on my own the next day, on Day 3 of our stay in Japan.

Gabriel Shiguemoto who works with us climbed Fuji Mountain last weekend and wrote about it in his blog (click here) – only in portuguese.  We dared him to take a picture of the Brastel’s at the summit of Fuji Mountain …. and he did! Soooooo cool!  The Fuji Mountain is open until the end of this month! Are you going to climb the Fuji Mountain this year? If you go, we dare you to also: Take a photo of yourself with a Brastel card and send to us! We will publish it here!

Hakone was a pleasant change from the fast paced neon glory that is Tokyo. Situated in the Kanagawa Prefecture, this beautiful town boasts many onsen, views of Fuji-San, the Tokaido Road and Lake Ashi. Unfortunately I was only there for one day and one night.

Lomo LC-A + Fuji Superia 100

www.christopherjonesphotography.co.uk

Sulphur Rising, Hakone, JP

In The Kitchen, Hakone, JP

Cooking, Hakone, JP

Tourists Eating, Hakone, JP

Eggs Cooked In Sulphur Springs, Hakone, JP

Cable Car, Hakone, JP

Lake Ashi, Hakone, JP

Bus Stop, Hakone, Jp

Hakone Hotel, Hakone, JP

Clock, Odawara, JP

Shinkansen, Odaward, JP

Фуджи: и шиге такой: даа, я целовал като нацуки-сан.  и при этом смотрел на кояму

Фуджи: а в след. сцене герой шиге снова читает книгу.  он немного неразнообразен) секс и книги. модифицированный джин