Proof of its Existence

Is there a more iconic mountain than Mount Fuji? Perhaps Everest, but even that is not necessarily recognized as such unless identified. but no one could mistake Mount Fuji. It is copied on postcards and tee-shirts and travel brochures and posters and books and anything else that means to illustrate "Japan". So of course we wanted to see it. Or at least try, as it is often foggy and rainy or hazy, particularly at this time of year. But at this time of year it is still covered in snow so when it can be seen it can really be seen. 

We did the classic self-guided loop, which means a bus climbing high into the hills to Lake Ashinoko and two little holiday towns at its southern end, then a ferry, incongruously a decked out pirate ship, to the top of the lake, then a gondola or "ropeway", than a cable car or funicular, and finally a train back to our little village. Actually the classic tour is the other way round, but it is a popular time of year here and so we decided to go against traffic.

It wasn't long before the bus climbed past piles of snow by the roadside, which grew in number and size. Methinks our little snow fall on the 31st floor in Tokyo meant a jolly good dump of the white stuff up here. But the sun was shining and it was quite warm, until we got to the lake where a very fresh breeze blew. 

And there it was! Magnificent in snow, a blue sky above - I couldn't imagine a better view! 

We walked through a wonderful line of 300 year old cedars, with fronds indicating a different species to our west coast cedars. to the side of the path was bamboo dappled with sun and snow.

Seasiders went fishing, boating on swan-shaped boats that were advertised as the most safe, or stood on shore and fed the voracious ducks and carp. All with sight of dramatic Mount Fuji.

We visited the old Hakone Palace, a late 19th century European-designed compound sprawled on the top of a small hill for the Imperial family to enjoy in the hot summers and another fabulous view. In 1922 Prince Edward VII visited (before he met Mrs. Simpson), as did many other international dignitaries. There was a Japanese building as well, but the whole thing was toppled in a massive earthquake, and just one small building was restored, then given to the public where it is now a heritage site. At this time of year, the many pieris japonicas are in blossom, most of which have been pruned round and smooth. Nature is revered in this country, but it is also tamed into various, 'perfect' shapes. I doubt if there is a tree or a bush in any garden that grew without human interference to make it look 'prettier'. 

Down by the second town, we passed through the 2007 reconstruction of what was an old checkpoint along the Tokaido highway that linked Kyoto to Tokyo. It was fortified, used to house soldiers and their horses, and provide a lookout as well as a prison. 

We boarded our boat, which powered its way faster than did pirate ships of old, and we lost sight of Mount Fuji as local hills crowded in. But the glorious Mount Fuji rose again as we climbed up the ropeway in our gondola. Our last view was at Owakudani, where it was a little shaded over with the suphurous mist of newly discovered thermal vents. The smell of old eggs mingled with the smell of recent eggs, hard boiled in the thermal waters and sold to tourists, eager to remove their black shells and eat them whole. 

Bye bye Mount Fuji, as we drifted over the far hill and back down, via cable car, to the tiny train that then shunted down steep switchbacks to our station. 

We thought that was then end, but no! As our train left Odawara station on its way to Kyoto the next day, there it was, rising above the haze as if floating on air, like an apparition.