When you think of Japan, you think of Mount Fuji. Iconically shaped, Fuji is a stratovolcano. At 12,389 feet, it is the highest mountain in Japan. My first glimpse of the mountain was from the train as we made our way to Kyoto a few days ago. It looked close enough to touch even from afar. Today we are journeying much closer to the mountain.
We decide to use our rail pass from Shinjuku station to Otsuki. At Otsuki, we must change trains to a very slow local train that will take us to Kawaguchiko (a lakeside resort town at the base of Fuji-San.
The ride to Otsuki is uneventful. After a little figuring, we purchase tickets out of a vending machine to Kawaguchiko. They are the size of a postage stamp. Unsure of what to do with the tiny ticket, I hold it and I use my rail pass to go through the gate. My husband tries to do the same and is denied entry. He is being yelled at.
I can’t help. Mine worked so I don’t know what else to try. Dozens of people push around him. I am afraid the next train is leaving us. It feels like pandemonium. Finally the gate agent takes my guy’s tiny ticket and pushes it through the ticket machine. The gate opens with no problem. Wondering why mine opened with the pass and his needed the postage stamp, we board the smaller train. Our slight delay means we have to stand the entire way toward Fuji. Oh well, at least we don’t have to wait an hour for the next train.
We arrive at Kawaguchiko and follow the signs for the lake. It is a long walk down a steep hillside. Our destination is a boat tour and a rope line up the hillside. Both start at water’s edge with Fuji viewing opportunities. As we walk to the lake, I look for Fuji. Despite being able to see the mountain quite clearly from the train, it has somehow disappeared from sight. How is that possible?
The lake is busy today. People are hawking paddle boats and motorboats. My husband doesn’t want to paddle boat and I don’t want to motorboat on a crowded lake. The rope line is already crowded and we decide we don’t want to waste a lot of time waiting in lines at the top and bottom of a ski lift ride. That leaves us with the sightseeing boat. They shoo us onto an already crowded boat. I don’t want to feel crowded inside, so I find two places to stand on the upper deck despite the threat of rain.
Once on deck, I begin to look around. Where is Fuji? We should be able to see it right? I resign myself to just enjoying the lake. It is beautiful in its own right. I notice that everyone on the boat is Japanese. There doesn’t appear to be any other foreign tourists. Is it possible that I got the directions mixed up? I don’t see how that could be. It is puzzling.
Suddenly the boat turns and Fuji is before us in all its glory. The clouds make a dramatic setting for the mountain. The boat erupts in oohs and aahs much like you hear at a fireworks display. The picture taking frenzy is a sight to behold. It is almost more of a spectacle than the mountain. I snap a few photos myself, but mostly I just want to drink in the experience.
I think I will always remember being held in my husband’s arms as we gaze at the snow capped peak of Mount Fuji from the top deck of a boat in Lake Kawaguchi. The other people onboard fade away. I feel the wind in my hair and the mist on my face. The boat slowly turns circles to give everyone ample time to enjoy the sight of Fuji from the water. It is glorious.
Back on shore, Fuji once again disappears from view. We decide it is time for lunch. We walk around the lake toward the ropeway but only find desert shops and coffee. There are also souvenir shops aplenty.
We need sustenance. But first, I have to check out a mountain shrine built next to an unusual concrete grid system that seems to keep the hillside near a highway tunnel from eroding. I have never seen anything quite like it.
After many attempts to find food, we finally find a local cafeteria serving a full lunch. The little old ladies inside remind me of my elementary school lunch ladies. They are all business and wearing hair nets. They also don’t or won’t speak English. We make our selections from the food photos and learn to pay by machine with some assistance and eye rolling from the head lunch lady.
My husband’s food is ready first and I pick it up with no issue. When I go back for mine, the lunch lady is quite sharp with me. Through hand gestures, I understand that she wants to see my receipt. I can only assume that protocol is to only take the trays to the table only when the entire order is ready? Perhaps I confused her. No worries. I flash my receipt and smile. She nods in approval and I sit down to a lovely lunch overlooking the lake.
We came to see the mountain, but unless we are in a boat on the lake, the mountain is hard to see. We walk around the lake but still can’t find the mountain. Instead, we find a fabulous French bakery. Decent pastry has been hard to find in Japan. Admittedly, coffee and a croissant is a silly idea so closely following our lunch, but I regret nothing. It makes me happy. The croissant melts in my mouth. Oh how I have missed bread!
Stuffed, we walk on. We don’t find the mountain. But in addition to great views of the lake, we find a traditional leather working shop. The items are beautiful and expensive. I have never seen such uniquely crafted leather. I look in appreciation, but leave empty handed.
The shortest way back to the train station is to cut through a local shrine. We aren’t sure if that is acceptable. There is no one around to watch or follow. I think it is a bit eerie walking through an abandoned temple and cemetery. Where are all the people? Oddly, we end up exiting the cemetery at a local brewery’s distributing center in a quiet residential part of town.
The area around the train station is busy with people loading on and off sightseeing buses. We briefly consider renting bikes as many locals are doing, but it looks like they have to ride in the heavy traffic. Narrow roads, lots of buses and no bike lanes doesn’t sound like my idea of a good time.
Out of good ideas, we wander through gift shops. Nothing catches my fancy. However, I do get a kick out of a sign next to blue stuffed animals proclaiming them the “rocal mascot”. I giggle and giggle.
Shopped out, we board the train back to Otsuki. Before we even leave the station, Fuji reappears. We have glimpses of the iconic peak off and on throughout the slow regional train ride.
We pass an amusement park and hotels. People are everywhere. Fuji is obviously big business, especially in cherry blossom season. But Fuji is also elusive.
We have a few hours to kill before boarding the train back to Tokyo. Otsuki is a cute little town and I want to explore. We walk streets west of the station and find an old man selling women’s clothing. They all look like something my grandma wore in the 1970’s. The restaurants are closed. This part of town is a bust.
As we head east, I enter a pharmacy because it has a small bag in the window that I have been seeing Japanese women carry. I like it. I want to ask how much, but as look for the shopkeeper, the man gestures and disappears. He looks panicked.
The owner reappears with his daughter. She tells me her father didn’t want to make mistakes in English. Soon the whole family appears. I think I may be the day’s entertainment. They ask how we like Japan. They ask about our travels and our life in the states. They love that I love their town.
I buy the bag. How could I not? My husband reminds me that I am not obligated to make purchases just because people are nice to me. I remind him that I don’t need excuses to purchase when I see something I like.
With one hour left until the Tokyo train returns, we finally find a small restaurant that is open for business. We have been eating all day so we opt for soft drinks. Our smiling waiter insists we try some kind of fried cheese balls. He is persuasive. What is one more fried cheese in the scheme of things?
Eventually it is time to line up for the train that will take us back to Tokyo. Fuji-San is not what I expected. I thought I would spend all day hiking around the lake treated to great views of the mountain. It turns out that all the great views came from a boat in the middle of the lake.
No matter. We had a wonderful day interacting with the locals who were also enjoying the mountain towns. They don’t always know what to do with us, and we don’t always know how to fit in. Instead, we enjoy the differences in culture and the human connections we make. Fuji-San, Kawaguchiko and Otsuki give us a different glimpse of Japanese life. It is thought that seeing the mountain is a symbol of good fortune. Fuji-San has smiled at us, and we are fortunate indeed.
