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Takao: Travel Goals Japan
Today we planned to travel to Nagano to see the snow monkeys. But when we woke up, we just were not feeling like a long train ride in order to catch a bus in order to hike. Perhaps earlier in the trip it would have been worth it, but with only two days remaining in Tokyo, we want to stay closer to home.
So, we take a commuter train to Takao and then a smaller local train to the base of the mountain. I am told this where the locals come to experience nature. I hope to hike and to see some monkeys. But first, we have to get ourselves at least halfway up the mountain. The main mountain trails branch out from there, and the lower trails are muddy and steep.
To get mid-way up the mountain, we can choose between an incline train (funicular) or a ropeway (lift). We choose the ropeway. It looks pretty low to the ground so I am not alarmed when there is no safety bar. It starts out low and then we proceed past the point that we can see from the ticketing gate. The rope way goes higher and higher. It stretches up the mountain and out of sight. There is a net under me the entire way. But under the net is several hundred feet of nothing but air. I just sit really still and pretend I am in my kitchen chair and not dangling over chasms with no safety bar. My feet dangle and I try to be chill. Did I mention there is nothing in front of me. No belt. No lap bar.
At the rope line’s end, we are high on the mountain. The summit is higher still, but for now we enjoy the view. I stop at a local vendor and buy a teriyaki coated bread ball on a stick. I’m sure it has a fancy name, but it is just a messy dough ball. As we walk among old growth trees, I try to figure out how to hide the messy empty stick. There are no trash cans and there are monkeys. I hope they don’t like sticky teriyaki sauce.
We reach the monkey forest and pay a small fee to enter. I am immediately disappointed. I am behind very dirty plexiglass. It is smeared with dirt and everything else the monkeys can get their hands on. We climb stairs to a viewing platform. At least now we are not looking through poop. A man is standing in an enclosure with hundreds of monkeys. He is talking non-stop in Japanese. I try to use Google Translate but the renderings are ridiculous. We have no idea what he is saying. So we watch monkeys and watch the man amuse the other guests with gestures and smiles.
There are lots of baby monkeys. I watch their antics with more joy than their monkey mothers, who are not so amused. Some look bored. Others look tired. None look like they care that we are here. In fact, I am pretty sure they don’t even want to be here.
We walk up the mountain to a mountain shrine. Along the way we pass old growth trees. The monks consider Takao a sacred site. It feels special. The walkway is adorned with good luck symbols. They are even in the trees. Red lanterns line the path which continues ever upward.
The lower temple is delightful. Just inside the gates, we encounter the Tengu, a legendary long nosed mountain goblin. They are believed to be protectors of the mountain and the ancient Yakut-in Temple. The statues of the red, long-nosed Daitengu and the green-faced, beaked Karasu Tengu are a bit frightening. One is even winged like an avenging angel.
Just past the entry, people line up to step through a stone ring and ring a bell. I learn that the process symbolizes leaving the past and making a wish for a bright future. That is a tradition I can support. As I pass through the circle I give thanks for the good and let go of the worries. I ring the bell with prayers for good fortune and peace on Earth.
The mountain is still before me. I bid my husband farewell and start the upward climb. He will wait for me at the lower temple. Meanwhile, I will climb endless stairs. Up the first series of steps, there is a small temple complex. Up the second series of steps, I encounter mountain hiking. There are steep inclines through a dense forest. Just when I think I have arrived at a plateau, there are more stairs.
At the summit, old men lay on the ground with their shirts open to catch the breeze. They look exhausted. Others crowd together at the ice cream kiosk. Maybe they have the right idea. I just climbed a mountain. I deserve a treat and a bottle of water.
I hesitate. If I purchase a water, I will be carrying the bottle back to the train station. There are no trash cans on Takao. But I am thirsty and need to not look like I am dying when I take my selfie with the Takao Summit sign. I think I have to carry the bottle.
This is my second mountain conquest since I have been in Japan. If we stay much longer I will be a proper mountaineer. I feel accomplished and youthful.
After lots of lingering looks and summit selfies, I turn and head back down the mountain. I have no idea how long I have been gone. I don’t want my husband to start to worry. I also don’t want to navigate all those stairs in the twilight.
Back through the temple complexes I go. They look different on the descent. I notice statues and features I didn’t see going up the mountain. I probably didn’t have enough oxygen to notice. It is peaceful. While people are present for most of the trek, it feels private and intimate.
The trees whisper their greeting. A variety of Buddha greet me with extended hands. Bell and chimes tinkle in the breeze and the calming sounds of flowing water provide a soothing background. Before I know it, I am back to the main temple.
I find my husband happily chatting away. He has been reading and enjoying the Spring sun. Hand in hand, we head down the mountain. It was been a full day on the mountain.
Takao is an oasis just outside Tokyo. I had a mountain and monkey adventure without having to take the train across the country. If I lived in Tokyo this would be a regular hiking destination. Takao is truly special. The Tengu (if they are the protectors of the forest) must be proud.
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Museum Opening: Travel Goals Japan
It is opening weekend at the Edo-Tokyo Museum. We are excited to visit. Unfortunately so are thousands of Tokyo residents. There are lines to form lines to get in line to buy tickets. Suddenly, I am not sure this is such a good idea. But we are firmly in the line to get to the ticket counter and have no path of escape.
Tickets in hand, we walk past a special exhibit on fashion and are herded onto a series of steep escalators. We climbed higher and higher to the upper floors of the building. Guides dressed in suit coats point us ever onward until we reenter the building on an elevated pathway over a recreated city.
Shortly after the brief walk over the lower exhibits, we enter the exhibit first area. It contains ancient treasures. Interesting artifacts, but it is so crowded we have to fight our way to the rails to see anything. The lines are moving soooo slowly. People pour over each document. This is a large museum and will take days to see it all at this rate. I am uncomfortable in the crowded room.
The museum tells the story of the birth of Edo (Tokyo). Large dioramas show the layout of the ancient city. As we move along, the crowd begins to thin out, thankfully. There is a lot to take in. The exhibits change from treasured documents and armor to recreated housing and business establishments. I am intrigued by the bedroom display explaining ancient childbirth techniques. Makes me appreciate the magic of the epidural.
This is really a fabulous museum. I begin to understand Tokyo in a much deeper way as I walk. The ancient harbor and trade routes are fully recreated in miniature. They want us to appreciate the wealth and status of Edo, and I see it. I understand the evolution.
The cultural displays are charming. I find the sumo drawings timeless. Champions immortalized on rice paper scrolls may have hung in the bedrooms of teenage boys, proving some things transcend culture. It is very clear they were sports heroes in their time.
We walk into a kabuki theatre. Mannequins demonstrate the drama of the art form. Many of the signs are in Japanese so we watch the faces of the crowd to gauge importance and interest. People happily point and take photos. So do I.
A gallery that is not popular with the Japanese contains the WWII era displays. I am horrified to see melted objects from the atomic bomb strikes. Household rubble bearing witness to unimaginable horrors lays in pristine display cases. Among the war debris, are recreated apartments from the era. It is hard to walk through regular homes and then see the twisted remains of everyday objects. War is so unnecessary. It is a bitter reminder of man’s inhumanity to man.
Eventually, we make our way to the exit of the museum. It is an excellent facility and I am glad we fought through the massive crowds to experience it. Sometimes you have to persevere through your misgivings. I reflect on perspective and stories of the past as we walk along the cherry blossom covered street back to the train. Tokyo is evolving still. I am so grateful we have spent a month experiencing a small part of its story.
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Zoo In the Rain: Travel Goals Japan
I love zoos. At least I love them when they are modern, champion conservation, and have plenty of room for the animals. National zoos are usually stellar, so we didn’t want to pass up the opportunity to visit the National Zoo of Japan. We head to Ueno park, even though it is raining. We are only in Japan a few more days so this is our last chance.
Upon arrival, we discover that the park has intersecting paths and no discernible preferred route so we set off uphill to see the elephants. It is clear this is a very old zoo. The enclosures are small and some are not well kept. There are, however, lush gardens and plenty of statues of animals.
We wander around in the rain looking for bears. We find them pacing in the rain wanting to go back indoors. I understand their frustration. We can’t decide the best way tour to the rest of the zoo in the rain. Every possible route will require back tracking. I am already wet and decide a churro is what I need to forget the rain. The seals nod in approval.
We eat traditional Japanese lunch with rice and miso soup in the zoo cafeteria. We have to walk up steep stairs dodging excited children. At least I didn’t spill my soup. It warms me up and I have a great view of the rain. It is coming down much harder. But I have a full belly and am drying out.
We are surprised to find American buffalo and prairie dogs nearby. The rain doesn’t bother them at all, even though they are a long way from the prairie. We are all a long way from Kansas.
On the back half of the zoo, there is a large lake. Heron and other birds nest in the long grass and in dead trees. We watch their antics. Across the road, a cat performs acrobatics on a tile roof. How did he get up there?
I am excited to reach the panda exhibit. We have walked a long way only to discover….no pandas…sigh. But wait, a tiny red panda is taking a walk in the rain. He is a one panda parade. Jaunty and defiant, he prances back and forth in the rain. I approve of any creature who makes their own fun in less than optimal conditions.
We may have finished the exhibits. All I can see is the remainder of the lake walk ahead. There doesn’t appear to be any enclosures ahead. But surprisingly we encounter a long line outside a low brick building. This is the first time we have really noticed a crowd (other than at the restaurant). Why are people queued up at a long brick building beside the lake? We get in line. What is it? Not sure. A sign says it is a kinkajou exhibit. What is that? Not sure.
It is dark in the exhibit hall. I can’t see where we are going. There is a dim light behind the brush. A blur flies past. What was that? A kinkajou. Big eyes. Long tongue. Long tail. I’m still not sure what a kinkajou actually is, or why they are so popular in Japan. But now I have seen one…. At least as clearly as you can see anything in semi-darkness.
We exit at the far end of the zoo. The sky has finally decided to stop raining. The cherry blossom festival is still going on in Ueno park. There is an antique market and I look at interesting objects that will not fit in the suitcase.
The traditional singers chant and play small drums. I love live music, but this is not my cup of tea. Thankfully they have Cherry ice cream. I take my cone and stroll the pier lined with pinwheels. I can no longer hear the noise and am reveling with in the brightly colored spinning wheels along the water. I feel like a child and that is a good thing. Rainy days are made for walking through puddles and eating ice cream. And I saw a kinkajou after chatting with a prairie dog. Doesn’t get much better than that.
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Of Geisha and Samarai: Travel Goals Japan
Kanazawa is a city of surprises. We have already toured a castle and a garden. Now we are on a bus in search of one of the geisha districts. I am actually not sure what to expect. I have only seen movies and read books about feudal Japan.
The bus stop is on a non distinct corner. We follow the map to a row of buildings and walk behind into a whole other world. The streets are narrow and the buildings are closed up tight. Privacy is foremost in the geisha quarter.
Today there are posters for a geisha show. Some of the buildings are now restaurants or shops. We walk through the narrow streets and duck through low door ways into cramped shops.
At the edge of the quarter, we find a temple. The Tori gate is made of concrete. It appears to be a local site in active use. I take a quick peak inside. But we decide we have just enough time to visit the samurai section.
We take the local bus across town and walk through the old samurai quarter. The houses are ancient and often hidden behind high gates. But one of the oldest houses is open for visitors. We pay a small fee and step into another world.
The house is not large, but the walls open into beautiful outdoor spaces. They have managed to bring the wonder of the outdoors into the design of the house. Each view is more magical than the last.
I appreciate the sophisticated landscape design. The physical space is not large and yet the senses feel expanded. There are ancient pines, green moss, and water features. Delicate flowers are carefully placed for impact.
Indoors, delicate paper walls can be moved to create larger rooms or sub divide them into small ones. Tatami mats and family scrolls lighten the dark interiors.
Beautiful kimono hang on display near the family shrine. Made of dark lacquer with pearl inlay, the shrine conveys the wealth and power of the household.
I learn that the Nomura-ke samurai house has been in the Maeda family for eleven generations. The samurai were the security force in the region during the Edo period.
A small side room holds authentic family heirlooms, including samurai armor, katana swords, and historical letters from warlords. I once again get a giggle from the walrus mustache on the armored helmet.
Unfortunately, it is time to head back to the train. Kanazawa has been a delight. The juxtaposition of natural beauty and artistic appreciation (gardens and inner courtyards ) with warlords and militaristic fortress (castle and walled gates) is obvious. I can’t reconcile the warrior/poet because in my country the two don’t often coincide. The samurai district proves that in Japan, warriors sought beauty and tranquility in everyday life. I find I am returning to Tokyo a little more reflective. How can I take more time to appreciate simple pleasures? The lesson of Kanazawa is that it is possible even in war and even in the smallest of spaces.
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Japanese Garden: Travel Goals Japan
We came to Kanazawa to see the castle. But the cherry blossoms are at their peak and a world famous garden sits just across the street. Kenroku-en garden is considered one of the best traditional Japanese gardens in Japan. I feel lucky to see it as the pale pink blossoms blanket the garden.
It is hard to know where to walk. Do we follow the old growth trees? Or perhaps the babbling brook is a better path? I am following the giant Buddha to the center of the park, but first the rock garden with the breathtaking views over the mountains has my attention. We travel lonely paths with just a few other Japanese people passing us along the way.
It is serene and beautiful. Photos can’t capture its beauty and words can’t begin to share the garden’s many delights. I won’t try. We walk among plants and trees under a brilliant blue sky. All is well in my world. As we skirt lakes and ancient tea houses, I feel connected to something older and larger than my limited experience.
At garden’s edge, the blossoms are the main attraction. The crowds have congregated here. Food stalls are set up and a festival market is doing a brisk business in chicken skewers and teriyaki flavored dumplings. People arrive en masse as we are leaving. It looks like a party is getting ready to break out.
But a Japanese garden is at its best as a place of quiet contemplation. We will leave the crowds and head onward into the city. Kenroku-en was an unplanned stop that was a wonderful surprise.
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Kanazawa Castle: Travel Goals Japan
Visiting Kanazawa castle requires us to take a train from Tokyo to Kanazawa station and then a bus to some spot further into the city . The bus stops are unnamed. This will be challenging. I have no idea if we are in the right spot, but the gps thinks so. So we hop off the bus in front of a small garden. A statue of a warrior in a gold hat stands guard.
It is serenely beautiful in this small park. So even if we are wrong, it was worth the stop. All of the castle buildings appear to be on the hill behind us. It is not clear how to get up there. A road worker waves us the opposite direction so we go, even though it doesn’t make sense. We find we need to walk the wrong way in order to to find an overpass. Once we cross over we can walk back in the correct direction.
The cherry blossoms are in peak bloom and line the castle walls. There are not many visitors so it is easy to linger and take in the scenery. Eventually we make our way to a gatehouse. We are invited to take off our shoes and enter. It requires a steep climb.
Looking out the window, I wonder how many hours a person sat on guard duty at this window and if they could have ever imagined a tourist paying money to stand at his post. I feel like we can see for miles.
The castle grounds are lovely, but the actual palace was damaged during the war. The town is slowly reconstructing the complex, starting with the outer walls and outbuildings. We tour empty interiors that have displays of ancient construction techniques. It seems the locals are only following the old ways of construction where everything is done by hand. This project will take awhile to complete.
I walk through the grain storage building. But after removing my shoes several times, only to see empty guardhouses and warehouses, I eventually decide that outdoor views are fine. The gates and courtyards are impressive enough with my shoes on.
After walking and climbing stairs all morning, we are ready to rest. The nearby tea house has a glass wall so diners have an unobstructed view of the castle. We gratefully sit and I order tea.
We decide to order a full sampler and share. I want to try everything and my husband is unsure. There is sushi wrapped in banana leaf and miso soup. We have pickled vegetables and rice. There is sponge cake and candy. It is eclectic, but enough to keep us going.
Kanazawa Castle is why we came, but there is a lot more in town to see before we catch the night train back to Tokyo. I think we will be able to walk across the overpass to our next stop. If not, I can always just sit down amid the cherry trees and be content.
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Tokyo Disney: Travel Goals Japan
While we are in Japan, we decide we need to head over to Tokyo Disney. This has not been as easy as it seems because they don’t sell tickets on the property and for whatever reason I had a lot of trouble purchasing through the Tokyo Disney app. I finally worked everything out and today we are headed across town to Maihama station where we will transfer to the Disney monorail.
There are two Disney parks in Tokyo, both operating under the Oriental land company (licensed by Disney). We opt for Disney Seas park since it is the only one of its kind in the world. Unsure what to expect, we walk to the monorail that will take us to the entrance of Disney Seas. The familiar mouse ears and Mickey Mouse tune makes me smile.
What doesn’t make me smile are the massive crowds gathering at every entrance gate. It is overwhelmingly and the gate isn’t even open yet. People press us on every side and there are no clear lines. This is going to be a challenging day. It is even raining. Don’t people know to stay home in the rain?
Eventually we enter the park and decide to take a boat to the far side of the park hoping to avoid the crowds. We find ourselves near Ariel’s grotto. I want to find the “journey to the center of the earth” ride. I am looking at the app, which is very, very confusing. It looks like…. Suddenly my screen flashes a warning. My phone is vibrating with an earthquake early warning. Sounds go off like an Amber alert. I don’t know what to do. The park loudspeakers are demanding that every guest lay down on the ground and cover their heads. Park employees are running and gesturing to lay down.
We lay down. It is wet. We wait and wait and wait. I wonder if it is possible to be crushed by a decorative sea shell? Nothing is happening.
People are getting restless and try to get up. They are shooed back down. After what seems like a very long time, the loud speakers tell us “all is clear. Don’t worry Disney Seas has been designed with earthquakes in mind. Have a very Disney day.” And with that, the music starts back. “Under the sea, under the sea, down where it’s wetter, everything’s better, don’t you agree?”
I am a bit unsure of what just happened. Was there an earthquake somewhere? Was it a false alarm? Will it happen again? Oh well, Ariel’s grotto is right here. It is impossible to be grumpy when you are riding a jellyfish under the sea. Or when you are 20 thousand leagues under the sea. We decide to just get on with our day. If there is an earthquake, we will still be somewhere in Tokyo. Might as well be here.
We head to Agrabah to see Aladdin. Just as we get to the front of the line, the ride shuts down. Sigh. We ride the carousel because the flying carpets will take at least an hour. I wander around and take a few photos and we leave without ever finding Aladdin (or Jasmin). We need to be across the park to see Mickey and Minnie’s stage show.
We ride a water ride. I figure I am already wet, what is a little more water? We eat and rest. The restaurant is themed around Duffy the bear. I had never heard of Duffy. He is a Japanese phenomenon. Duffy and friends are ridiculously popular here. Apparently, the backstory is that Minnie Mouse sewed the teddy bear by hand and placed him in a duffel bag so Mickey Mouse would not feel lonely on his long sea voyages. Japanese marketing created a Duffy empire. It is news to me.
I am stunned at how many people are here. Every ride we check has at least a two hour wait. We don’t even try to get in line, it is not worth it. I decide to shop, but there is literally nothing I want to buy. Everything is Duffy, Duffy, Duffy. I am about to get cranky, but then Mickey sees me and blows me a kiss. How can you stay cranky after that?
It is probably futile, but I want to see the “frozen “ section of the park. There are at least three rides I am interested in. Rapunzel: three hours. Frozen: four hours. Unbelievable! Peter Pan: two hours. I give up. The ride times just keep getting longer. We look at the beautiful landscaping and wander around a bit. But, we keep getting wetter. I think I am ready to go.
We take the boat back to the front of the park. It is getting dark and it is very cold. It is crazy crowded around the shops and restaurants. People are still coming in the gates. Now I am more than ready to leave.
It has been an interesting day. We survived an earthquake (it actually happened and was confirmed just north of our location). We withstood the rain and wind. And we navigated ridiculous crowds. I rode very few of the rides I looked forward to experiencing, but we walked a very clean and beautiful park. We experienced Disney from a completely different cultural lens. It was not what I imagined and every bit more memorable.
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Our Very Odd Day In Odaiba: Travel Goals Japan
Odaiba is a teenager’s dream destination. We ride into the area on a futuristic area aerial train. It is raining steadily, making the harbor dark and gray. It is also cold and windy. Hopefully we can find plenty of indoor activities to keep us busy.
Leaving the rail station, we cross the elevated walkways along the harbor park. How surprising to see the Statue of Liberty! What is she doing here? Sure, she is a miniature version, but the backdrop of skyscrapers and the gray water make the scene eerily familiar. If it weren’t for the cherry blossoms, I might think I had teleported to New York City. Nearby music is playing. There is a choreographed water fountain display with lights and water cannon. What is this place?
The rain picks up and we decide to find the Odaiba Retro museum, a recreation of nostalgic Japan. It seems like a good way to spend time out of the rain. But, it proves ridiculously hard to do. We follow the gps through a large mall. Then we go out into the rain and into another mall. “You have arrived!”, Google proclaims.
No Google. We are standing in the men’s underwear section of a Japanese department store. Perhaps this is someone’s idea of a joke? We go down one floor and then up one floor. No museum. We head out into the rain into yet another mall. Still no museum. We pass a children’s play place and home-goods stores.
We also find an indoor amusement park with way too many unsupervised pre-teens. That is enough to let this former middle school teacher know to keep walking. Some things transcend culture.
Defeated, we stop at the Tokyo Trick Art Museum, where we spend a few hours taking selfies with 3d art. I guess we really are teenagers in old bodies. After laughing and posing, we decide to head back to mall number one for a Hawaiian burger. A taro roll sounds great.
After walking about two minutes we find ourselves somehow inside the retro museum. How on earth did this happen? I have to be inside some kind of fun house. Statue of Liberty appears while looking for mall. Underwear stalls when looking for museum. Museum only appears when looking for burger. This is such a weird day.
As we walk we look at vintage candy stalls. Teenagers are playing retro carnival games. We peek into a 1950’s schoolroom. It is a cute diversion, but also very, very busy. Too many people for us to linger.
The trail back through multi-story malls is like winding your way through a maze. Every few minutes some distraction catches my eye. I need to buy miniature sushi from a capsule store. I have to see where the long hallway decorated like an Italian alley goes. And I absolutely have to visit the shop with antiques under glass and the clothing store designed around Santa Claus. What is this place?
My Hawaiin burger is delicious and came with a view of the Statue of Liberty while listening to Hawaiian radio. We spend the remainder of the afternoon in a variety of shopping complexes. We watch people and browse anime. We try on clothing and buy donuts. There are numerous shops that sell funko pop, monchichi, and labubu. (I think that is the correct terms…. I am the last person you should ask about Japanese pop culture.) There are stores filled with life size movie superheroes.
Walking past cotton candy cloud creations and ignoring the crowded shops, I am on an be final mission. My husband keeps asking where I am going. I tell him to be patient. Finally, we exit the Diver City mall out a small back door. There in all its glory is the unicorn gundam. He is taller than the three story mall. From our position on a second story portico, he looks even taller.
What a day! I truly feel like we are in a science fiction movie. Here is the plot: Girl teleported on high speed arial tram to find Statue of Liberty. She walks down a long hallway to find modern day Japan only to walk through a looking glass into a world of unreal creatures and 3d illusions. After completing the maze of amusement parks and photo challenges, she emerges into Japan circa 1950. After a long journey through a dark tunnel complete with Italian music and restaurants, she arrives in Hawaii for lunch after a brief visit with Santa Claus. After lunch she journeys into a high end shopping mall where she fights her way through enormous crowds to buy a giant bucket of doughnut holes. Leaving the mall, she finds the mall exit blocked by a giant four story transformer (gundam). Exhausted, she heads back into the rain to find a way back home, leaving behind a world of illusions and endless amusement.
Sounds strange. But a true account of our day in Odaiba. I wouldn’t lie to you. Santa (and gundam) is watching.
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Fuji-San: Travel Goals Japan
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.
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Weekend In Tokyo: Travel Goals Japan
It is a lovely Spring day in Tokyo. It is also the weekend. Our quiet neighborhood is abuzz with grandmothers on bicycles, old men doing tai chi in the park, and families out for a walk. We are a little lazy because we have been crisscrossing the country on a bullet train this week. We hadn’t planned on such long days, but based on when sites were open and when we could get train tickets, this week got more hectic than I’d planned. So we decide to take a late start today.
I get up and do a little work. The emaiI has accumulated and needs to be dealt with. I wish I had a decent cup of coffee and a pastry. Email duty requires coffee. Our Japanese house doesn’t have a coffee maker so I bought a variety of instant coffee and tea. It is better than nothing, but I am craving percolated coffee. To add insult to injury, the neighborhood grocery store doesn’t really sell bakery items, other than bread. So I am left with buttered toast as my breakfast option. This is fine, but today I want something more. I don’t even usually eat breakfast and almost never do I eat sweets, so this craving is a little strange. After I have tamed the email, I distract myself by making a tentative plan for the day.
When my husband awakens, I tell him that I would like to find a weekend market. There is supposed to be one near the Imperial Palace. He shrugs and says okay. We are in no hurry and since we have no particular plan, somehow we end up in Yasukuni Shrine. (Confession: we got off at a train station and saw a huge crowd and decided to follow to see what the fuss was about.) Detours are always welcome on day’s when you have no particular plan. The market is supposed to be somewhere nearby. Maybe we will stumble onto it.
Yasukuni is beautiful. But I feel a bit like we were crashing a church picnic. I think about how I would react if a couple of Shinto worshippers showed up at my church. We would welcome them to the festival and hope they would be respectful of our beliefs and traditions. I try to act accordingly, because this is clearly not a tourist site. It is an active local shrine.
Since it is cherry blossom festival, there are a variety of special events. In one corner, ladies in traditional kimono are serving tea. There is a flower decorating competition. Priests are issuing blessings at a variety of stations. And the main worship line stretches into the distance as people wait to make their offerings and pray.
At another corner of the shrine, we find a controversial war museum that is criticized for promoting a revisionist view of history that whitewashes wartime atrocities. We don’t go in because there are signs asking us not to. Apparently there is a kamikaze plane inside as well as a shrine to honor the spirits of 14 convicted class-A World War II war criminals in addition to the other 2.5 million war dead. I wasn’t aware the place existed, but the sign made me curious. People are welcome to honor the spirits of ancestors, but not to tour (at least not today).
Nearby, another crowd is streaming past. This time as we follow, we find a sumo arena. We don’t have tickets, but can see the sumo statue at the entrance and the outdoor arena. The match hasn’t started and we can’t linger or we will be crushed by the crowd so we walk on and find ourselves in a serene garden. In just a few steps we shift from chaos to contemplation.
Suddenly, finding a market seems unimportant. Having a rich cultural exchange has been much more rewarding. Also, the crowd is becoming uncomfortably large so we decide to move on. We re-enter the train station and squeeze onto the next train. Even the subway is crowded today.
With shrines on the brain, we end up in Asakusa at the Senso Ji shrine. It is more crowded than the Yasukuni, if that is even possible. A Spring weekend tradition is apparently crowding into the grounds of the local temples where the cherry trees are most accessible. Everyone wants to experience the magic of the trees while the blossoms last.
I thought that since we skipped the market, I would enjoy the Nakamise shopping street. The long street lined with shops connects directly to the shrine. However, there are so many people that we can’t even walk. We duck into a restaurant just behind the vendor stalls and are lucky enough to get the last seats. We eat a traditional meal and watch the insanity through the large window. Eventually, we have to leave and make way for others waiting patiently outside.
I try to muster the will to push through the growing crowd. Fortified with rice, we forge ahead. I feel like a Salmon fighting its way upstream. People are everywhere. Worse, they congregate and stop suddenly to take photos. I don’t want my epitaph to be crushed to death by Japanese revelers during cherry blossom festival. Increasingly, it looks likely.
We try to step into a shop to give us some time to regroup. I even buy a sweet potato ice cream cone hoping the novelty will distract me. But just when I find 10 inches of space to call my own, a gaggle of older women enter behind me and push me back out into the crowd. I guess we are leaving… there isn’t room for all of us in this narrow shop.
Once we leave the shopping street and enter the temple grounds, the crowds thin out. I am delighted. Senso-Ji is lovely. The towers are the epitome of Japanese architecture. The gardens are a perfect place to rest. I am surprised at the large numbers of teenagers in traditional kimono surrounding me. They take turns posing for photos under the trees. While I catch my breath, I enjoy the photo shoot.
The back side of the temple brings another surprise. In addition to being relatively crowd free, there is a monkey show. Improbable encounter, but apparently today anything can happen. The man talks to the monkey and the monkey balances, jumps, and claps. The monkey plays the drum and dances. It is a very talented monkey. Sadly, he can’t compete with the cherry blossoms. Luckily for us, his lack of popularity means there are only a few dozen people trying to push into our personal space instead of thousands.
Exhausted by the rising temperatures and tired of the crowds, we make our way to the Sumida river. The park along the banks is lovely and full of people out for a stroll. They lounge on steps and concrete benches. So do we. I don’t mind the people when there is a bit of space to spread out.
We watch boats crowded with people move up and down the river. Cherry blossoms line the shore and it is very popular to view them from a boat on the river. Since the boats look as crowded as the shopping street we just left, I don’t think that is for me. Better to watch the boats from afar. My seat here at the water’s edge is comfortable and I am content.
Eventually, we have to head home. We are exhausted from our day of doing nothing. At the subway station, we treat ourselves to cake in a can from a vending machine. It is surprisingly good. Only in Japan can I buy bakery quality cake from a vending machine. Only in Japan will have to carry an aluminum can that used to hold cake all the way home because there are no trash cans.
Back at Shinjuku Station, the street is blocked off for a planned protest. Unsure of what the protest is about, we linger to watch. From what I can gather the crowd is pro-peace and also opposed to the prime minister meeting with the current American administration. It is a Japanese “no kings” rally. It looks like it could last awhile.
I don’t have it in me to fight through another crowd today. Instead, we pay for a karaoke room for two. Maybe the crowd will be gone by the time we are done. For the next two hours, we sing our hearts out. A waiter brings refreshments to our cozy little room. The crowds are a distant memory. I am the dancing queen. I will survive….. hey, hey…
Prisoner of Hopes
