I’m not a religious person, but I have animist leanings. I find it comforting to believe that all things, both living and inanimate (the two aren’t mutually exclusive, as anyone who’s ever had teenage kids is aware), have an inherent spirit. Even if I’m wrong, it’s not a bad way to go through life; it makes me more attuned to and considerate of my environment.
Seeing Mt. Fuji in person only reinforces my pagan tendencies. It’s as alive as any inert object can be, dancing in the sun and shadows, playing peek-a-boo behind the clouds, and commanding respect and adoration.
Before I get too carried away – though I’ve probably already crossed that line – let me rewind to this morning. We left Tokyo a bit after 9 a.m., crawled and spurted through its suburbs for 45 minutes or so, and emerged in an entirely different Japan: Tokyo’s cement and steel gave way to rugged hills and mountains, many clad in towering, drill sergeant-straight, wizard hat-shaped evergreens (cedars, I believe).
By this point, it was time to return our morning coffee rental, so we pulled into a service area unlike any I’ve seen in the United States. How different? Let’s just say I’ve never seen vases of fresh flowers in a men’s room at a rest stop on the New Jersey Turnpike. Nor have I seen such a wide variety of luscious snacks.
A bit further down the road, we caught our first glimpse of Mount Fuji – and remarkably, this famously shy peak wasn’t shrouded in clouds. Mari, our guide, made a snap decision to skip our planned visit to the Mount Fuji Cultural Center and instead take us to a beautiful, duck-dotted lake from which we could admire the mountain in its full glory. It was a brilliant call!
Light conditions weren’t exactly camera-friendly, but with that caveat, here are some photos of this magnificent mountain.
Our final stop for today was Lake Ashi, a crater lake in Hakone National Park. There, we enjoyed a half-hour boat ride offering views of various birds and would-be pirate ships.
Given the importance of Mount Fuji to traditional Japanese culture, it’s fitting that we’re staying tonight in a ryokan, a traditional Japanese hotel. The minimalist rooms have tatami-matted floors, platform beds, and chairs whose seats rest on the floor.
After a very nice dinner at the hotel – honoring the spirit in all things, including spirits, I splurged on a delightful 21-year-old Hibiki whisky – it’s now time to rest before heading on to Takayama tomorrow.
PuffinlessTravel 