Steve here, with some important breaking news: Everyone, raise a glass. The ramen shop that so delighted us a year ago with the drunken man of many vigorous crotch gestures...is no more. As far as we can tell, it's now a laudromat.
(*SOB!*)
More on our top story in a minute. In other news, the flight 'cross the Pacific was long and gruelling but uneventful. (I mean, what 10-hour plane flight isn't long and gruelling?) No issues in immigration or baggage claim or customs, and we're now safely ensconced in the Radisson hotel in Narita.
Now that the mudane stuff is out of the way, back to our top story:
While Cathy, Susie, and Jane got up to some mystery doings at the hotel, Bob, Kelsey, Mae, Ted, and I embarked on a jaunt by to find our beloved ramen shop from a year ago. After finding nothing (except that laudromat whose storefront looked so very awfully familiar), we finally asked a couple of gas station attendants, who pointed us toward a different ramen place called "Rokkii." Some more jaunting and eventually we found it, and most of us ordered some plain ol' ramen. The joke, however, was that each order of ramen came in a vessel the size of a helmet. A helmet designed for a hippo. And that was just the regular size. I, feeling extra peckish, made the mistake of ordering the "jamboo" (jumbo) size, which was a bowl approximately the size of your average truck tire. We all made efforts nothing short of Herculean, but none of us managed to drain our bowls. Our first night in Japan, and already we've paid monstrous insult.
So I guess we'll see if our breakfast is poisoned tomorrow. Let's hope the local kami (indigenous spirits and gods) give us a bit of murder-avoiding luck, due to our frank and sincere admiration of Narita's very charming manhole covers. They got baby horses on 'em. Everybody go awwwwwww.
Tomorrow, it's off to the shinkansen ("The powerful locomotive that's faster than a speeding bullet!") to take us to Kyoto, and then I think we've got a tour scheduled soon after we arrive. And we thought this trip was going to be relaxing.
Until later, dearly beloveds.
Friday, May 27, 2011
Monday, May 23, 2011
Gearing Up for Another Trip...
G'day all!
This is a preliminary post for another upcoming trip to Japan, which will include Bob & Cathy, Susie & Ted, Kelsey & Steve, Jane, and Mae. Just so's you know you're at the right place.
Very soon, to the skies!
(And the usual airline aggravation that entails.)
This is a preliminary post for another upcoming trip to Japan, which will include Bob & Cathy, Susie & Ted, Kelsey & Steve, Jane, and Mae. Just so's you know you're at the right place.
Very soon, to the skies!
(And the usual airline aggravation that entails.)
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
Epilogue, Plus Photos!
G'day, all. Steve here.
So, what further to say about the Fuji trip?
Just like last year, everyone in Japan was very nice to us, despite the language barrier and us being a pair of crass gaijin who were probably doing offensive things left and right and smelling bad to boot. As Bob mentioned below, we were never sure if the standard greeting we got when returning to the hotel in the evening ("Shower, please") was intended to mean A) "We apologize for our country's oppressively muggy summer heat; we invite you to refresh yourselves in our shower," or B) "You are gleaming with a filthy iridescent sheen; please for God's sake take a shower so our hotel can stop smelling like American armpits."
Alas, we will never know.
I have discovered a fresh affection for Japan's ubiquitous vending machines. Some had something called "milk tea," which I found to be a chilled, Earl-Grey-esque black tea with milk and sweetener. It couldn't hold a candle to a home-brewed afternoon tea with Kelsey and a scone (yes, I am an irretrievable ponce!), but it wasn't at all bad and kept my caffeine habit satisfied. Well done, Japanese beverage industry.
And while on the subject of comestibles, we're still not quite sure what constitutes a traditional Japanese breakfast, as we usually did our fast-breaking at Gasuto, a Denny's-ish chain with mostly Western food on their morning menu. (I shall miss their ridiculously huge and fat slices of toast.) We could have tried the eel place we passed every day, but eel for breakfast sounded just a little too...eely.
Quick detour: I congratulate that mysterious figure who first ushered the word "eel" into the English language. I can think of no human utterance more evocative of a slithery, oily, cave-dwelling fish. Though for an especially oily one, I could see adding more E's. Say it with me now: Eeeeeeel.
And hey, speaking of English (funny how these segues work out), I was again surprised by how much English you see in Japan. It really is everywhere, despite the fact that the number of English-fluent Japanese doesn't seem to be all that big. Lots of signs show Roman characters, often more prominent than -- if not completely excluding -- Japanese characters. Just seemed odd. But hurrah for Japan, I suppose, for this worldliness and welcoming demeanor towards Westerners. Must be strange and perhaps a little annoying, being a country known for great art, beauty, and refinement and thus attracting thousands of visitors who don't speak a word of your language.
But this pair of Westerners did make the effort. Our language skills were slightly better than last time, and though we exchanged many a blank stare with the locals, I think the effort was appreciated.
On the other hand, what the mountain goddess thought of us...I guess that's another thing we'll never know. Though we didn't technically reach the summit (and in fact, a lot of people don't; even after arriving at Station 10, you have to hike around to the far side of Fuji's crater to reach its official highest point), I'm still counting the trip a success. We've seen the entirety of the Yoshida trail and we couldn't have asked for finer weather, so I'd say our omamori and many respects paid to Konohanasakuya were well worth the effort.
And on that note, I think it's time for some pictures.
Before we had adjusted to Japan time, we were waking up around 4:30 or 5:00 each morning. Here's the sunrise from our Narita hotel room.
How can you not take a picture of WonderGOO? And just what sort of store is WonderGOO? Tell you what: Get your guesses ready, and no fair googling it. (Adam, I'm looking at you.) I'll look it up and the answer will be below, after the pictures.
Some vagrant in front of the cartoony Fuji train that, alas, we did not get to take from Otsuki to Kawaguchiko. He smelled of octopus, so we kicked him till he ran away.
The shrine to Konohanasakuya in Fujiyoshida. Behind the big red torii is (if I'm remembering rightly) the main shrine building, where we paid respects to the kami and bought our kongo-zue and omamori.
Still at the shrine. Thought this would make a cool shot, but I have no idea what these are. Names of big donors to the shrine? Names of the succession of priests? Commemorations of the shrine's spaghetti dinner fundraisers?
And here's one of our kongo-zue, pre-climb. The orange-colored stamp at the bottom was done specially by the shrine attendants. An artful shot, I think, but honestly we only took this one so we could remember how to re-wrap the tassel after it got all disheveled during the climb.
Some public art in Kawaguchiko. Chicken on a cat on a dog on a donkey. I'm sure this means something, but damned if I know what.
And so the climb begins at our beloved Station 5. That's Fuji in the upper-left. Note the horses, which I guess you can rent for riding a little ways up the mountain. Probably not all the way to the peak; I don't think horses could have navigated some of the trails we went up. But apparently the first guy to reach Fuji's summit did so on a horse, so maybe I underestimate them.
Somewhere between Stations 5 and 6. That thing around Bob's neck is his omamori. Note that the mountain still has trees at this altitude. Also note the battalions of little kids. Thankfully, they turned back at Station 7.
Tassel shrine! This is between Stations 6 and 7, where I guess it's customary to leave the belled tassels from your kongo-zue. We did not leave ours. Not sure who the stone image is. The sword makes me think Manjushri, the bodhisattva of wisdom, but can't say for sure.
One of the views from between Stations 6 and 7. That thing in the foreground is a retaining wall. Presumably it keeps the mountain from swallowing up the interminable switchbacks.
Somewhere in the Station 7 range, I think. No more trees. Just some scrubby bushes, including Japanese knotweed, which was nice to see in its native land. In the Pacific Northwest, it's an invasive pest.
Torii in the mist (starring Sigourney Weaver). At the Fuji Visitor Center, the educational video claims that when you start seeing torii, you're nearing the summit. LIES! There are lots of these things between Station 7 and the summit, and that's no quick jaunt.
Fuji rocks!
Ah, sweet oxygen. Tastes of propellant! But do note the many brands we'd collected on our sticks.
View from...somewhere in the Station 8 range, I think. Yup, it's high.
One of the last photos I took on the mountain, just before we began our descent in the dark. From the angle of the light, you can tell the sun is setting on the far side of the mountain.
Here's us post-Fuji, with our well-branded kongo-zue. With aching legs and disintegrating feet, we smile through the agony.
And that's a good one to end on, I think. And for those waiting anxiously for an answer to the WonderGOO question: It appears to be a books-and-movies place, maybe kinda like a Borders. I, for one, am deeply disappointed. I expected more from such an evocative name.
Everyone take care of yourselves, and to all a good night.
So, what further to say about the Fuji trip?
Just like last year, everyone in Japan was very nice to us, despite the language barrier and us being a pair of crass gaijin who were probably doing offensive things left and right and smelling bad to boot. As Bob mentioned below, we were never sure if the standard greeting we got when returning to the hotel in the evening ("Shower, please") was intended to mean A) "We apologize for our country's oppressively muggy summer heat; we invite you to refresh yourselves in our shower," or B) "You are gleaming with a filthy iridescent sheen; please for God's sake take a shower so our hotel can stop smelling like American armpits."
Alas, we will never know.
I have discovered a fresh affection for Japan's ubiquitous vending machines. Some had something called "milk tea," which I found to be a chilled, Earl-Grey-esque black tea with milk and sweetener. It couldn't hold a candle to a home-brewed afternoon tea with Kelsey and a scone (yes, I am an irretrievable ponce!), but it wasn't at all bad and kept my caffeine habit satisfied. Well done, Japanese beverage industry.
And while on the subject of comestibles, we're still not quite sure what constitutes a traditional Japanese breakfast, as we usually did our fast-breaking at Gasuto, a Denny's-ish chain with mostly Western food on their morning menu. (I shall miss their ridiculously huge and fat slices of toast.) We could have tried the eel place we passed every day, but eel for breakfast sounded just a little too...eely.
Quick detour: I congratulate that mysterious figure who first ushered the word "eel" into the English language. I can think of no human utterance more evocative of a slithery, oily, cave-dwelling fish. Though for an especially oily one, I could see adding more E's. Say it with me now: Eeeeeeel.
And hey, speaking of English (funny how these segues work out), I was again surprised by how much English you see in Japan. It really is everywhere, despite the fact that the number of English-fluent Japanese doesn't seem to be all that big. Lots of signs show Roman characters, often more prominent than -- if not completely excluding -- Japanese characters. Just seemed odd. But hurrah for Japan, I suppose, for this worldliness and welcoming demeanor towards Westerners. Must be strange and perhaps a little annoying, being a country known for great art, beauty, and refinement and thus attracting thousands of visitors who don't speak a word of your language.
But this pair of Westerners did make the effort. Our language skills were slightly better than last time, and though we exchanged many a blank stare with the locals, I think the effort was appreciated.
On the other hand, what the mountain goddess thought of us...I guess that's another thing we'll never know. Though we didn't technically reach the summit (and in fact, a lot of people don't; even after arriving at Station 10, you have to hike around to the far side of Fuji's crater to reach its official highest point), I'm still counting the trip a success. We've seen the entirety of the Yoshida trail and we couldn't have asked for finer weather, so I'd say our omamori and many respects paid to Konohanasakuya were well worth the effort.
And on that note, I think it's time for some pictures.
Before we had adjusted to Japan time, we were waking up around 4:30 or 5:00 each morning. Here's the sunrise from our Narita hotel room.
How can you not take a picture of WonderGOO? And just what sort of store is WonderGOO? Tell you what: Get your guesses ready, and no fair googling it. (Adam, I'm looking at you.) I'll look it up and the answer will be below, after the pictures.
Some vagrant in front of the cartoony Fuji train that, alas, we did not get to take from Otsuki to Kawaguchiko. He smelled of octopus, so we kicked him till he ran away.
The shrine to Konohanasakuya in Fujiyoshida. Behind the big red torii is (if I'm remembering rightly) the main shrine building, where we paid respects to the kami and bought our kongo-zue and omamori.
Still at the shrine. Thought this would make a cool shot, but I have no idea what these are. Names of big donors to the shrine? Names of the succession of priests? Commemorations of the shrine's spaghetti dinner fundraisers?
And here's one of our kongo-zue, pre-climb. The orange-colored stamp at the bottom was done specially by the shrine attendants. An artful shot, I think, but honestly we only took this one so we could remember how to re-wrap the tassel after it got all disheveled during the climb.
Some public art in Kawaguchiko. Chicken on a cat on a dog on a donkey. I'm sure this means something, but damned if I know what.
And so the climb begins at our beloved Station 5. That's Fuji in the upper-left. Note the horses, which I guess you can rent for riding a little ways up the mountain. Probably not all the way to the peak; I don't think horses could have navigated some of the trails we went up. But apparently the first guy to reach Fuji's summit did so on a horse, so maybe I underestimate them.
Somewhere between Stations 5 and 6. That thing around Bob's neck is his omamori. Note that the mountain still has trees at this altitude. Also note the battalions of little kids. Thankfully, they turned back at Station 7.
Tassel shrine! This is between Stations 6 and 7, where I guess it's customary to leave the belled tassels from your kongo-zue. We did not leave ours. Not sure who the stone image is. The sword makes me think Manjushri, the bodhisattva of wisdom, but can't say for sure.
One of the views from between Stations 6 and 7. That thing in the foreground is a retaining wall. Presumably it keeps the mountain from swallowing up the interminable switchbacks.
Somewhere in the Station 7 range, I think. No more trees. Just some scrubby bushes, including Japanese knotweed, which was nice to see in its native land. In the Pacific Northwest, it's an invasive pest.
Torii in the mist (starring Sigourney Weaver). At the Fuji Visitor Center, the educational video claims that when you start seeing torii, you're nearing the summit. LIES! There are lots of these things between Station 7 and the summit, and that's no quick jaunt.
Fuji rocks!
Ah, sweet oxygen. Tastes of propellant! But do note the many brands we'd collected on our sticks.
View from...somewhere in the Station 8 range, I think. Yup, it's high.
One of the last photos I took on the mountain, just before we began our descent in the dark. From the angle of the light, you can tell the sun is setting on the far side of the mountain.
Here's us post-Fuji, with our well-branded kongo-zue. With aching legs and disintegrating feet, we smile through the agony.
And that's a good one to end on, I think. And for those waiting anxiously for an answer to the WonderGOO question: It appears to be a books-and-movies place, maybe kinda like a Borders. I, for one, am deeply disappointed. I expected more from such an evocative name.
Everyone take care of yourselves, and to all a good night.
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Bob's Closing Thoughts
Bob here, with some final thoughts on this trip.
Japan was a delight. It was very green and growing. Peaches, strawberries, and concord-type grapes were available at local fruit stands. Our hotel had a manicured garden, as well as a vegetable garden. When I walked early, many people would be out trimming their gardens.
The people were the best part, of course. Everyone was very nice to us, and I think we connected positively with some of the people at the places we frequented. My Japanese got a little better, but Steve, along with much more Japanese, knew enough katakana to read many signs and menus. My one attempt to talk to the father (?) at the hotel about the weather in Japanese was strictly from "Fawlty Towers". After that, he and I stuck to "Good Morning" and discussions about the shower, although I never discovered if he was offering me the shower or requesting me to use the shower.
A short walk up a side street near our hotel led to a small garden that had a view of Fuji-san and a machine that sold chilled grapefruit juice. This was where I spent my dawns, sipping juice and watching the rising sun on the summit.
Our hoteru and Hiro-san, our host, made our stay a lot more personal than K's House -- we were guests in a family hotel. We missed the kitchen, and I missed hot water to wash and shave in (although showers were hot). But their front door was never locked (in fact it didn't have a lock).
Final Fuji thoughts:
Along with the amazing cloud views, the sights on the mountain that impressed me most were the flowing clouds and the steep slopes. The wind was blowing up the slopes, so, periodically a river of cloud would be swept in a stream up the slope. The mountain surface was so rugged, with lava and pumice, and the clouds were so diaphanous, it was just beautiful and amazing. More than once on the upper slopes, I would focus on the surrounding steeply-sloping lava flows, and feel I was falling off the mountain. Better than a good thrill ride. As the sun got lower, we were able to watch the shadow of the mountain on the clouds and land stretch until darkness.
The walk down Fuji-san was perfect and painful. (Think of a beautiful night on the slopes of Mt. Doom.) It was warm, we had a near-full moon for most of it, and could watch the surrounding city lights grow and become distinct as we descended. It was quiet -- Steve mentioned the lightning. It was strange when the first vegetation started appearing again. My freebie Harbor Freight flashlight worked all the way down. But every step was painful -- especially stair steps. We went past several tunnels with signs that said "Use tunnel. Danger of falling rocks." I took the trail beside the tunnel, taking my chances because the tunnel had steps. It was several days before I could climb the steep stairs to our room without wincing.
Well, I didn't do what I set out to do, but I'm thinking this is one of the "Man plans, God laughs" situations. There are certainly few things I would trade for the experience. I learned some things about myself, saw some strengths in Steve that I hadn't seen yet, and had an awesome climb. I wouldn't have gotten as far as I did without Steve -- he really was the pack mule on the mountain, with his large pack. My only hard lesson was giving up (however briefly) before walking under the final torii. But that pales in comparison to the beauty, grace, and grandeur I experienced at this place. Yes, it is a holy place, although I didn't make it to the shrine at the top. I'm positive enough to think that there's a reason for this...
Well, today is the last day of my sixtieth year (60 in Japan is a year of new life as I understand it). Fuji-san was a fitting end for the year.
Japan was a delight. It was very green and growing. Peaches, strawberries, and concord-type grapes were available at local fruit stands. Our hotel had a manicured garden, as well as a vegetable garden. When I walked early, many people would be out trimming their gardens.
The people were the best part, of course. Everyone was very nice to us, and I think we connected positively with some of the people at the places we frequented. My Japanese got a little better, but Steve, along with much more Japanese, knew enough katakana to read many signs and menus. My one attempt to talk to the father (?) at the hotel about the weather in Japanese was strictly from "Fawlty Towers". After that, he and I stuck to "Good Morning" and discussions about the shower, although I never discovered if he was offering me the shower or requesting me to use the shower.
A short walk up a side street near our hotel led to a small garden that had a view of Fuji-san and a machine that sold chilled grapefruit juice. This was where I spent my dawns, sipping juice and watching the rising sun on the summit.
Our hoteru and Hiro-san, our host, made our stay a lot more personal than K's House -- we were guests in a family hotel. We missed the kitchen, and I missed hot water to wash and shave in (although showers were hot). But their front door was never locked (in fact it didn't have a lock).
Final Fuji thoughts:
Along with the amazing cloud views, the sights on the mountain that impressed me most were the flowing clouds and the steep slopes. The wind was blowing up the slopes, so, periodically a river of cloud would be swept in a stream up the slope. The mountain surface was so rugged, with lava and pumice, and the clouds were so diaphanous, it was just beautiful and amazing. More than once on the upper slopes, I would focus on the surrounding steeply-sloping lava flows, and feel I was falling off the mountain. Better than a good thrill ride. As the sun got lower, we were able to watch the shadow of the mountain on the clouds and land stretch until darkness.
The walk down Fuji-san was perfect and painful. (Think of a beautiful night on the slopes of Mt. Doom.) It was warm, we had a near-full moon for most of it, and could watch the surrounding city lights grow and become distinct as we descended. It was quiet -- Steve mentioned the lightning. It was strange when the first vegetation started appearing again. My freebie Harbor Freight flashlight worked all the way down. But every step was painful -- especially stair steps. We went past several tunnels with signs that said "Use tunnel. Danger of falling rocks." I took the trail beside the tunnel, taking my chances because the tunnel had steps. It was several days before I could climb the steep stairs to our room without wincing.
Well, I didn't do what I set out to do, but I'm thinking this is one of the "Man plans, God laughs" situations. There are certainly few things I would trade for the experience. I learned some things about myself, saw some strengths in Steve that I hadn't seen yet, and had an awesome climb. I wouldn't have gotten as far as I did without Steve -- he really was the pack mule on the mountain, with his large pack. My only hard lesson was giving up (however briefly) before walking under the final torii. But that pales in comparison to the beauty, grace, and grandeur I experienced at this place. Yes, it is a holy place, although I didn't make it to the shrine at the top. I'm positive enough to think that there's a reason for this...
Well, today is the last day of my sixtieth year (60 in Japan is a year of new life as I understand it). Fuji-san was a fitting end for the year.
Monday, July 26, 2010
Farewell to Kawaguchiko
And so our final day in Kawaguchiko comes to a close. Station 5 was a madhouse this morning, absolutely crammed with people, but we got our final bits of shopping done and were back around lunchtime.
Did not do the onsen thing, as neither of us seemed to have the required energy nor inclination. Besides, it was a terribly hot day to spend soaking in a hot bath. So instead, we watched wacky Japanese TV, which included Pokemon (which you really haven't experienced until you've heard it in the original Queen's Japanese), and footage of karate tests where teenagers hit one another repeatedly and break bits of wood. Keeps them off the streets, I suppose.
Oh, and Hiro, our guesthouse proprietor, took a photo of us before dinner this evening. Apparently we're going to be featured on his website in the near future. Let's all hope he was talking about the hotel website, not some shady side-project of his....
And tomorrow is the trip home! Going to be a very long day, but it'll be lovely to be in Oregon once more. Everyone take care of yourselves, and we'll do our best to stop the flight attendants from tossing us into the Pacific. Cheers!
Did not do the onsen thing, as neither of us seemed to have the required energy nor inclination. Besides, it was a terribly hot day to spend soaking in a hot bath. So instead, we watched wacky Japanese TV, which included Pokemon (which you really haven't experienced until you've heard it in the original Queen's Japanese), and footage of karate tests where teenagers hit one another repeatedly and break bits of wood. Keeps them off the streets, I suppose.
Oh, and Hiro, our guesthouse proprietor, took a photo of us before dinner this evening. Apparently we're going to be featured on his website in the near future. Let's all hope he was talking about the hotel website, not some shady side-project of his....
And tomorrow is the trip home! Going to be a very long day, but it'll be lovely to be in Oregon once more. Everyone take care of yourselves, and we'll do our best to stop the flight attendants from tossing us into the Pacific. Cheers!
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Last Day in Kawaguchiko
We did indeed do the insane shopping center yesterday. It felt like a department store, like a Macy's, except it was more tall than wide. Three or four stories, and they sold all manner of things: clothing, groceries, fast food, kitchen wares, stationary, ceramics, etc. Plus, near the escalator where there's a big open vertical space between the floor of the first storey and the ceiling of the third, there's a trampoline with bungie cords attached, so you can bounce the entire height of the building. Neither of us indulged. After the climb, landing on a trampoline from a three-storey height sounded like a femur-splinteringly bad idea.
So we bought some gifts and got lunch at the ubiquitous Mos Burger, then hopped a taxi to the one shrine of Konohanasakuya -- our dear mountain goddess -- that we hadn't visited yet. Not as awesome as the one in Fujiyoshida, but very pretty, plus it had a mini-shrine to some sort of holy horse and lots of huge cedars with ropes tied elegantly around them. Not sure what it means, but it looks nice. We also took a moment to scare the koi in the pond. Smug scaly bastards.
By then, the weather had mercifully clouded up, so the walk home over the Ohashi bridge was sort of cool and pleasant (i.e., not at all in the usual manner of summertime Kawaguchiko). Curiously enough, the word "ohashi" means chopsticks, so I dunno if they named the bridge after an eating utensil or if the word has another, more stately meaning. Bob has renamed the bridge "Spider Bridge," because he went walking on it late one night and found that at least every three feet or so, a hefty-size spider had built a web in the railing. I guess the lake water below plus the bridge-lights above equals lots of juicy nighttime insects.
So today is our final full day in dear Kawaguchiko. We're off to Station 5 again to buy some gifts and souveniers, and perhaps to throw a baleful glare up at the mountain. It's still early here, about 8:30 AM, so we'll have time this afternoon as well. Our guesthouse has given us a coupon to a local onsen, so we'll see if we're feeling brave enough for that. Onsens are supposed to be relaxing, but I admit they don't really sound that way to me. If you don't know whan an onsen is, I'll let you find out on Wikipedia.
Tomorrow, it's off to Tokyo Station, then to Narita, then to San Francisco, then home!
So we bought some gifts and got lunch at the ubiquitous Mos Burger, then hopped a taxi to the one shrine of Konohanasakuya -- our dear mountain goddess -- that we hadn't visited yet. Not as awesome as the one in Fujiyoshida, but very pretty, plus it had a mini-shrine to some sort of holy horse and lots of huge cedars with ropes tied elegantly around them. Not sure what it means, but it looks nice. We also took a moment to scare the koi in the pond. Smug scaly bastards.
By then, the weather had mercifully clouded up, so the walk home over the Ohashi bridge was sort of cool and pleasant (i.e., not at all in the usual manner of summertime Kawaguchiko). Curiously enough, the word "ohashi" means chopsticks, so I dunno if they named the bridge after an eating utensil or if the word has another, more stately meaning. Bob has renamed the bridge "Spider Bridge," because he went walking on it late one night and found that at least every three feet or so, a hefty-size spider had built a web in the railing. I guess the lake water below plus the bridge-lights above equals lots of juicy nighttime insects.
So today is our final full day in dear Kawaguchiko. We're off to Station 5 again to buy some gifts and souveniers, and perhaps to throw a baleful glare up at the mountain. It's still early here, about 8:30 AM, so we'll have time this afternoon as well. Our guesthouse has given us a coupon to a local onsen, so we'll see if we're feeling brave enough for that. Onsens are supposed to be relaxing, but I admit they don't really sound that way to me. If you don't know whan an onsen is, I'll let you find out on Wikipedia.
Tomorrow, it's off to Tokyo Station, then to Narita, then to San Francisco, then home!
Saturday, July 24, 2010
Post-Fuji Doings
Hey all. Steve here again.
For what it's worth, I'm not counting the climb as a failure. We saw the entire hike and could hardly have expected to be unaffected by that kind of fatigue and altitude. We made our very best effort and I'm calling that a success.
So aside from Fuji, one might wonder what Kawaguchiko has to offer. Answer: the Retro Bus! And the name is not purely some Japanese eccentricity. It does look rather retro. Think of a small bus, then put a vaguely Model-T-style front on it, and there you have it. It runs a route around Lake Kawaguchiko, stopping at various tourist destinations like parks and museums. But those sounded much too culturally enriching for us, so we decided on...
...the Kawaguchiko Ropeway! This is a sky-tram that takes you on a cable up into the hills around Kawaguchiko, surrounded by images of the facility's cartoony mascots: a rabbit and (I think) a fox. Looked sort of like a raccoon, but they don't have those here, so I'm going with fox. Couldn't read any of the dialogue in their speech bubbles, but I got the impression that these characters are outdoorsy types, into hiking and all that, but prone to mishap. At the top of the Ropeway, there's a big fiberglass statue of the fox lying on his belly, wailing in pain with big tears oozing from one eye, while the rabbit perches on top of him, applying some sort of balm to a wound on his back. Ah, family fun! There were also hiking trails at the top, but we weren't really into that after the Fuji climb. So we settled for some vending machine ice cream and took the tram back down.
After that, we visited the Fuji Visitor Center. (Note the cunning verb/object correspondence in that last sentence. I was an English major, you know!) The Visitor Center had a little mini-museum with lots of little facts about the mountain, most of which I don't remember now. I do recall that women weren't allowed on the mountain until 1800-something, so you women-folk who didn't want to come with us have missed an opportunity to strike a blow for sexual equality. What else...Japanese Buddhist monks once climbed Fuji as part of their training; some did it hundreds of times, for which I do not envy them. The first foreigner to climb Fuji was an Englishman of some variety. Speaking of which, when you press the "English" button to view a little edu-tainment video in English, the narrator always has a posh English accent. Makes the mountain sound terribly erudite.
So that more-or-less brings us to today. We might do the insane shopping center, just to have that experience. There's also one remaining shrine to the mountain goddess that we haven't visited yet, up in northern Kawaguchiko. Should probably go there and pay respects one last time, thank her for getting us off the mountain alive. Not sure what else we'll keep busy with. Got today and tomorrow, and then we begin the trip home!
For what it's worth, I'm not counting the climb as a failure. We saw the entire hike and could hardly have expected to be unaffected by that kind of fatigue and altitude. We made our very best effort and I'm calling that a success.
So aside from Fuji, one might wonder what Kawaguchiko has to offer. Answer: the Retro Bus! And the name is not purely some Japanese eccentricity. It does look rather retro. Think of a small bus, then put a vaguely Model-T-style front on it, and there you have it. It runs a route around Lake Kawaguchiko, stopping at various tourist destinations like parks and museums. But those sounded much too culturally enriching for us, so we decided on...
...the Kawaguchiko Ropeway! This is a sky-tram that takes you on a cable up into the hills around Kawaguchiko, surrounded by images of the facility's cartoony mascots: a rabbit and (I think) a fox. Looked sort of like a raccoon, but they don't have those here, so I'm going with fox. Couldn't read any of the dialogue in their speech bubbles, but I got the impression that these characters are outdoorsy types, into hiking and all that, but prone to mishap. At the top of the Ropeway, there's a big fiberglass statue of the fox lying on his belly, wailing in pain with big tears oozing from one eye, while the rabbit perches on top of him, applying some sort of balm to a wound on his back. Ah, family fun! There were also hiking trails at the top, but we weren't really into that after the Fuji climb. So we settled for some vending machine ice cream and took the tram back down.
After that, we visited the Fuji Visitor Center. (Note the cunning verb/object correspondence in that last sentence. I was an English major, you know!) The Visitor Center had a little mini-museum with lots of little facts about the mountain, most of which I don't remember now. I do recall that women weren't allowed on the mountain until 1800-something, so you women-folk who didn't want to come with us have missed an opportunity to strike a blow for sexual equality. What else...Japanese Buddhist monks once climbed Fuji as part of their training; some did it hundreds of times, for which I do not envy them. The first foreigner to climb Fuji was an Englishman of some variety. Speaking of which, when you press the "English" button to view a little edu-tainment video in English, the narrator always has a posh English accent. Makes the mountain sound terribly erudite.
So that more-or-less brings us to today. We might do the insane shopping center, just to have that experience. There's also one remaining shrine to the mountain goddess that we haven't visited yet, up in northern Kawaguchiko. Should probably go there and pay respects one last time, thank her for getting us off the mountain alive. Not sure what else we'll keep busy with. Got today and tomorrow, and then we begin the trip home!
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