Japan Day 3: I Saw a Mountain

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I got up early in the morning and, after some moments of milling like sheep with multiple confused tourists, hopped on a bus to go see Mount Fuji. Yesterday's rain had all gone away and the sun shone as brightly as it could through a gentle haze of pollution.

Mount Fuji showed its face barely 15 minutes into the hour long drive to Lake Kawaguchiko, and made teasing appearances as the bus made its way up mountains, through tunnels, and along impressive multi-level freeways curled on the side of steep mountain valleys. Roger, stuck back in a library doing battle with Korean paperwork requirements, would have loved it.



My tour guide, Linda, spoke fluent and largely incomprehensible English. She held up large signs with times on them and all us tourists decided to be back at the bus by then and if she had instead told us to stand on our heads we hadn't a clue.

The sun shone, Mt Fuji gleamed, and I caught a ropeway (aka cable car) up to a viewing point which also included a shrine dedicated to rabbits/hares. I'm sure there was a back story there.





That was the highlight of the day really. Mt Fuji dominated the other side of Lake Kawaguchi as I learnt how to make matcha tea (can't say I'm a fan), and was visible through the windows as I ate my lunch.



Winter had not quite given way to spring: snow still piled in untidy heaps where it had been pushed aside to allow daily life to continue.


The mountain made appearances through gathering clouds as I explored the tourist village of Oshino Hakai where clear pools, fed by springs of melting snow from Mt Fuji, were full of fish waiting to satisfy insatiable tourist appetites. It was, in fact, very difficult to actually see Oshino Hakai for the hordes of tourists lining up for overpriced ice cream and roast sweet potato. 

Some bits were nice though.

A tree being trained into shape by carefully placed bamboo.

Tourists.

Hordes of them. Of course I was one of them so what right had I to complain?

The bus was quiet on the drive back to Yokyo. Someone down the back started snoring.  Mount Fifji, not quite ready to let us go, made receding cameo appearances.


The last view of the mountain.

Maranouchi Station had put on its night time attire by the time I alighted from the bus.  It was a nice way to end a very good day.







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