One of our goals during this trip to Japan was to go see one of Japan’s most known symbols: Mount Fuji.
We’ll tell you right up front that we didn’t have a hankering to climb Mount Fuji. On this trip, we were more of the go-for-a-stroll and then soak-in-an-onsen types.
Mt. Fuji (Fujisan) is the tallest mountain in Japan and, with its classically symmetrical snow-capped cone, has long been the symbol of that country. The volcano is regarded as a sacred kami or spirit in the Shinto religion, specifically that of Princess Konohanasakuya-hime (aka Fuji-hime or Sengen), and climbing its slopes is considered an act of pilgrimage for followers of that faith. The mountain also has several important sacred shrines, caves, springs and a waterfall. As of 2013 CE Mt. Fuji is a UNESCO World Heritage Site. (source)
Our Japanese friends helped us out with organizing the three-train-journey from central Tokyo to Fujikawaguchiko, a resort town in the northern foothills of Mount Fuji — all of which went beautifully and punctually.
We had to love the beauty of the lunch boxes we bought from a stand on a train platform.
The last leg of the journey was a relaxed course on the Fujikui railway.
The railway rises patiently through the forested foothills of the Mount Fuji region. We kept craning our necks to try to spot the mountain. Then, at last, the distinctive cone appeared, no cloud cloak in sight. Some of our fellow travelers were a bit less excited than we.
We were pleasantly and thankfully surprised to find the mountain completely exposed to our tourist gawking. On one of our walking tours in Seoul a couple weeks earlier, we had chatted with an Australian woman who had just come from Japan. She said that she had spent something like a couple weeks in the region and had not once seen the mountain. The internet says that the probability of seeing the mountain top is somewhere between 20 and 30%. Chances are better in fall and winter, and we visited in October.
The rest of this post is mostly an excuse to share photos of the mountain — just because it’s so striking!
We had chosen a resort hotel across Lake Kawaguchiko, La Vista Fujikawaguchiko Hotel, because of the promised view. We weren’t disappointed; but more about that in a minute.
As soon as we arrived in the afternoon, we set off down the hill to the lake. We wanted to enjoy the clear view of the mountain while it lasted.
We walked along the lake shore…
…as the afternoon sun set.
After dinner at the hotel — more about that in the One More Bite section below — the mountain remained quiet beneath a bright moon.
Sixteen eruptions of New Fuji have been recorded since 781. Many of the eruptions occurred in the Heian era, with twelve eruptions between 800 and 1083. Sometimes inactive periods between eruptions lasted for hundreds of years, as in the period between 1083 and 1511, when no eruptions were recorded for over 400 years. At present, there have been no eruptions since the Hoei eruption in 1707–1708, around 300 years ago. (source)
A good night’s sleep, and then a peek out our window at dawn. The mountain was still proud although he’d gathered a skirt of clouds. Still lovely.
By the way, is Mount Fuji a he or a she? Both it turns out:
The Shizuoka side is considered the front (Omote-Fuji in Japanese). It’s also nicknamed Onna Fuji (female Fuji) because Mt. Fuji’s gently sloping ridgeline as seen from here calls to mind a woman.
Meanwhile, the Yamanashi side [which was our side] is considered the back (Ura-Fuji). It’s nicknamed Otoko Fuji (male Fuji) because the view from this side is reminiscent of a man with broad square shoulders.
(source)
During the day we walked again to the lake, into the main town on the other side of the lake, and through the neighborhood between our hotel and the lake.
Rice fields fill the gaps between the scattering of neighborhood houses. October is harvest time.
The once green paddy fields of Japan take on a golden hue, signaling the onset of the rice harvest season. Against the backdrop of autumn’s mosaic of red, orange, and yellow foliage, these fields present an idyllic panorama. Farmers gather, tools in hand, looking forward to the culmination of months of hard work. In some places, especially in rural areas, you can witness the time-honored methods of hand-cutting the rice stalks, tying them into sheaves, and letting them dry on racks. The scene is almost poetic – a ballet of man, nature, and machine, orchestrated with precision and care. (source)
The colors of autumn were just starting to pop out.
As the evening approached, so too did the clouds. Since we’d already enjoyed the pure view of the mountain, we didn’t mind when the dusk light colored the sky.
Another dinner at the hotel, some relaxing time in the onsen, and a good night’s sleep.
The next morning…
We weren’t upset; we were thankful for the time we did have with Mount Fuji.
Our hotel offered two menus, one Western, one Japanese. On the first night, we chose the Western menu just because we were curious and we’d been enjoying Japanese food for a few weeks. The presentation was beautiful, kaiseki-course style. Perhaps a bit prettier than tasty!
The next night we chose the Japanese menu. Attractive and tasty, as expected. But we were surprised that it was delivered all at once. Ironically, not kaiseki style despite the nice list of plates.
A little Halloween surprise:
October 2023