Fujiyama

A Sightseeing Trip to Mount Fuji

I vis­ited Fujiyama today. That is “Mount Fuji” for the Japanese-illiterate. He was look­ing snazzy and majes­tic as any proper moun­tain should, at least when he was not hid­ing behind the veil of cloud cov­ers. With my cam­er­a­phone in my right hand and a bag of sour Starbursts in my left, I hap­pily and excit­edly boarded the vehi­cle that shall whisk me away to Mount Fuji and its snow-capped peaks. With an expec­tant smile, I pressed my face against the clear glass win­dow of the vehi­cle and sud­denly real­ized that it is far too early to be up. It was only 7:30 am! Who the fuck wakes up at that time? On a hol­i­day! I closed my eyes and promptly went to sleep.

A few hours later, we had to stop to stretch our legs and empty our blad­ders. Apparently, Mount Fuji is not famous for its toi­lets. Or some­thing. As we were near­ing the moun­tains, I was start­ing to worry that there would not be any snow. But I had no rea­son to worry because as we drove higher up the moun­tains and nearer to Mount Fuji, the snow appeared and seemed to get thicker. Which is a good thing, con­sid­er­ing, I wanted snow, I expected snow. Snow is fun! Fun is snow! Woo-hoo!

Mount Fuji by Jayel Aheram.

Final Destination:The Shadow of Fujiyama

We reached a gate of sorts and there were plenty of parked buses by a park­ing lot in front of it. Apparently, the gov­ern­ment closed the road to the fifth sta­tion of Mount Fuji because peo­ple were need­ing to be res­cued and it was unsafe. I was a bit dis­ap­pointed, because I really wanted to see Mount Fuji. I did not expect the trip to Mount Fuji to involve not see­ing it… but lo and behold, a thick cloud cover sud­denly shifted and revealed the beauty hid­den behind. There was Mount Fuji all along, toy­ing with the tourists and hid­ing behind the clouds. People were gasp­ing and clap­ping at this pleas­ant “reveal.”

Mount Fuji by Jayel Aheram.

Anyway, there were plenty of things to do, bar­ring an exhaus­tive climb up a moun­tain­face. The huge pile of snow in the lower-right cor­ner of the pic­ture above became my play­ground once I found out that no one was allowed to con­tinue. Apparently, the author­i­ties (who­ever they are) decided that it was unsafe, even for peo­ple in com­fort­able tour buses since there were some climbers need­ing to be res­cued. The con­nec­tion between casual tourists and dare­devil climbers was lost on me, but to the author­i­ties it was appar­ent. So I rolled around in the packed snow by the side of the road and attempted to build snow fortresses. The only prob­lem was that the snow was really dry. And tough! And thick! So, I have to punch and bruise my knuck­les to break through the hard upper layer of snow to get to the incred­i­bly fine and dry snow under­neath. And it was thick, so as I walked on the snow, my feet and my whole leg would sud­denly dis­ap­pear and I would scream. It was fun, really!

I was the first on the snow, which was bizarre con­sid­er­ing there were plenty of chil­dren around. Soon after I entered the snow, I got into a snow­ball fight! It was dif­fi­cult fight, because the snow was packed at the sur­face and I had to punch through to get to the snow under­neath. But the snow, being dry, was not con­ducive to a snow­ball fight. It was nearly impos­si­ble to cre­ate snowballs, since as soon as I threw them, they break apart into a cloud of snow dust. It was snowdust fight. It was not exactly excit­ing. No one runs away from a snowdust­ing. I had to con­tent myself with throw­ing snowchunks instead! The big­ger the chunks, the louder were the screams! It was a snowchunk fight. Nice.

About the snow, it was my first time with dry snow. It is per­fect for sled­ding and ski­ing I sup­pose, but those are activ­i­ties that require a whole lot of space and the right equip­ment. It is not very ver­sa­tile for some spon­ta­neous fun. I wanted to make snow angels, snow forts, and snow­balls. The whole packed snow thing can be not very fun. I hurted my knuck­les and it was very decep­tive when you walk on it. One moment, I was walk­ing on snow and the next I am knee-deep in snow scream­ing in pain. I com­mented that I wished to be an elf, so I can walk on the snow like Legolas. But I make my own fun! While I was knee-deep in snow and too tired to move, I decided to arrange some twigs and bro­ken branches on the snow to cre­ate my name. I took a pic­ture of it and I liked it so much that I took a pic­ture of it in a dif­fer­ent angle.

I tried my hand at sled­ding and almost broke my back. Plus, by the time I could set up, I have already sunk too low in the snow to go for­ward. Damn. Trudging through that kind of snow­fall (packed snow on top, dry snow below) was exhaust­ing. It was almost like a stair­mas­ter. But I rather do that than risk walk­ing on tightly packed snow! I tried it once because it look so solid, but it was too solid! It was ice! I slip and landed on my back.

Aching, bruised, and tired, I crawled out of the snow and real­ized that I was hun­gry! I bought grilled corn from this incred­i­bly old ven­dor. I think he has been work­ing around Mount Fuji, sell­ing all sort of good­ies by slopes, for years. Food, trin­kets, and more. Maybe since the end of World War II or some­thing. I com­mented to some­one that since his lit­tle ven­dor store was so filthy, you just know his food is good. About the grilled corn, it was actu­ally pre-grilled! He grills them and then places them on the side. When some­one wants to buy one, he heats it up in his old wood burner and puts some sauce on it (soy sauce, maybe? It could be tobacco spit for all I know.). It was good, actu­ally. I ate about three. It was the only thing I was brave enough to try. He sells this soup of sorts with weird veg­eta­bles in it.

Anyway, I was too tired and beaten to play in the snow again, so I con­tent myself by look­ing at Mount Fuji and the sur­round­ing scenery. Soon, we had to leave. But before we went home, we made a stop at a mall. It had all sorts of trendy Western stores. Which is not sur­pris­ing, since it is owned by a US com­pany. It fea­tures all sorts of expen­sive stores and a stun­ning view of Mount Fuji. I ate ramen in its food court and got freaked out by the singing dead ani­mals. Apparently, the peo­ple who designed the “show” thought that a band of singing mounted heads of dead ani­mals make for great enter­tain­ment. After that and a leisurely drive through the poorly planned streets of Japan (the dri­ver got lost sev­eral times), I finally made it home. All in all it was fun. It was cer­tainly a dif­fer­ent expe­ri­ence. It also con­vinced me that I needed a dig­i­tal cam­era of my own.