Finally - the mountain Fuji-san with no more surprises. Saturday morning was crisp and clear with blue skies and birds chirping. Time to climb.
I stopped by a 7-11 on the way to the bus stop to get some food after finishing the sandwiches for breakfast. Honestly for the price and quality, eating food from 7-11 (in Japan) is not a bad idea! I got two bananas, a couple large rice balls wrapped in seaweed and stuffed with tuna and pork, and a donut for an early boost (also donuts are delicious, no shame! ("Fattypouf!")). At the station I bought a bus ticket to Fuji and moved my return ticket to Tokyo back to 8:30 - the last bus - just in case.
The bus took almost an hour to drive to the mountain and climb up to the starting point - I'm very glad I didn't walk. The station was absolutely packed with people, a stark contrast to Alaska or even Cape Town. I'm guessing there were at least a thousand people waking around with big coats, trekking poles, fancy hiking gear and huge backpacks. They were very well-prepared, yes, but I wouldn't like lugging that much junk up 2,000m of steep mountainside!
Along the way there were lots of buildings and huts where people could get food, buy souvenirs, and stay the night to see the sunrise. There were even bathrooms and vending machines and a post office at the very top:
It was strange to see so much civilization so high up, and at times it was difficult to move through the crowds of people. But, that's Asia!
It was strange to see so much civilization so high up, and at times it was difficult to move through the crowds of people. But, that's Asia!
The climb was supposed to take 5-6 hours, but I was determined to challenge myself. I reached the summit in just a few minutes more than 3 hours and felt very proud of my stamina. All the mountains in South Africa gave me strength, and hiking at very high altitude in Peru gave me the red blood cells I needed at 11,000ft on top of Mt. Fuji.
Near the top the clouds built up and it started raining, but the view of the lakes and countryside at 3000m was still stunning. Mt. Fuji is a semi-dormant conic volcano with a big crater at the top.
I was pleasantly surprised to find out there is a nice trail on top of Fuji all around the crater, and walking around the circuit I got lots of nice views of the mountain, crater bowl, and distant Japanese land.
The ground I was walking on was actually cool in it's own right - the volcanic activity had deposited all kinds of red, black and yellow rocks with lots of different textures. There were some rocks with streaks of shiny sulfur that looked an awful lot like gold.
People probably thought I was odd, taking pictures of rocks and the ground, but then again I find most of them odd too for other reasons. The thing we had in common though was excitement - every person I passed was smiling ear to ear, happy to be alive and moreso relieved to be done with the huge ascent.
Halfway around the crater it started hailing lightly, and then a few minutes later with more strength, so that it was almost painful. I looked down and watched the hail collect on the ground, and a sudden thought hit me. I'm standing on top of Mount Fuji, in the crater of a volcano, in Japan, and it's hailing on me. Six months ago I never would thought of being here doing this, yet here I was. I laughed out loud at the thought, feeling ecstatic and completely satisfied with my trip so far. And it's only half over!
The way down was painful as my legs were very tired. The ground was very soft, with lots if small rocks and sand, so I was able to run down fairly easily. At some points it was so soft I pretty much leaped down, taking giant steps at a very fast speed, and probably pissing off the people who were taking their time and carefully placing their steps. Gaijin smash! Hey, I wasn't the only one.
I made it down way faster than I had thought. By this time it was raining pretty hard and I was drenched, so I went straight for the bus. My ticket had dissolved in the rain, but luckily enough print remained that they believed me and printed a new one. I got on the bus, standing room only, and proceeded to drip water everywhere and on everyone near me. Gaijin splash?
Back in Kawaguchiko I asked the lady who changed my ticket to change it again, which thoroughly annoyed her. She did it for a small fee, and soon enough I was on my way back to Tokyo. This bus trip was delayed also, but due to heavy traffic. I would hate to drive in Tokyo during rush hour, wow.
Not only was it rush hour, but it was the first weekend of August. This meant two things: 1) school was out for the summer and 2) peak tourist season was in full swing. A consequence of this was ALL of the hostels and cheap hotels in Tokyo were 100% booked. In fact, according to one accommodation booking website I used the city of Tokyo was 99% booked. There are disadvantages to traveling spontaneously and booking beds night to night.
I managed to find another capsule hotel for an ok price in the Ikebukuro ward, a nice part of Tokyo with reasonable mix of shopping, night life and business accommodation. I would later find out it's the best place in Tokyo to eat Ramen, but trust that I did find out!
I found the hotel with little trouble and checked in - the capsules were WAY nicer than the others I'd stayed at, the people were young and though mostly Japanese were friendly and willing to talk. I spent little time taking though, because what I really wanted was food. Specifically - sushi.
The reception clerk - very welcoming and overly helpful - recommended a place and gave me a map. I set out and immediately got lost. Hot and frustrated, I wandered around aimlessly trying to follow the map with no street signs or landmarks, and every time I ended up on the same intersection I got more and more irritated.
My feelings for Japan began to evaporate rapidly. The annoying whiny music, shop owners screaming things through megaphones, confusing urban layouts with random windy streets, inability to communicate with the Japanese people, and the fact no one will look you in the eye all weighed in on my mood. I started feeling patriotic and a bit homesick, for the places that make sense and people that speak my language and culture.
But then I thought - you're just cranky for not having the way paved and lain out for you, and tired from climbing Mount Fuji a few hours ago. Then I laughed again, felt a bit embarrassed, and started walkimg with intent and awareness. Suddenly the streets made sense; I suppose I subconsciously memorized most of central Ikebukuro during my aimless wandering. I decided to ignore the map and just find a place that looked interesting.
Immediately I found a place, and after inspecting the map again it was the very restaurant I'd been looking for. Funny how that works!
The restaurant was conveyor belt sushi, something I've wanted to experience for years. I had no idea what to do, and no one helped me, so I just jumped in. You sit at a booth around a big round bar, and in front of you a conveyor belt runs small plates with sushi past you. The plates are color coded, each color corresponding to a different price. There was also water provided from little faucets and powdered green tea, as well as the usual soy sauce. Wasabi is not generally provided, because in Japan the chefs provide their recommended amount on the sushi roll itself.
Some plates were marked and some were not - I decided in the spirit of adventure just to grab what looked good or interesting and try it all. The sushi was fantastic, but I racked up quite a bill. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to come hungry.
After this I was thoroughly ready for sleep. I went back to the inn, took a much needed shower, and crawled into the fancy side-loading capsule I had waiting for me. I tried to watch some Japanese T.V. - a game show of some kind was entertaining - but quickly gave up and fell asleep.
No comments:
Post a Comment