Generally there are 3 ways to get up to Tokyo - the shinkansen, which is quick but eye-wateringly expensive; flights, which are too much of a pain in the arse to consider; and night buses, which are cheap but quite unpleasant. Having already dropped a significant sum on our tour and gear, we opted for the latter and heaved our rented backpacks on to the red-eye special from Kobe. There's something like 7 hours of driving time up there, but it always seems like much longer because you have to stop every hour or two at a series of rest stops; whenever you manage to get to sleep, you're not far from another lights-on-everybody-crashing-past-you awakening. The trip is thus punctuated by these bleary-eyed, furry-teethed stumbles between parked buses in the cold night air, in each case a chance to go to the toilet, get some water and glare at things that are too bright (everything).
We pulled up in Shinjuku just before 7am, heaved our backpacks off the bus and stopped in for a fairly uninspiring breakfast at Denny's, which has as much in common with the American version as gravy has with engine oil. Full of salad and fake coffee, we took the train to our first port of call in Roppongi. It was too early to check in, but the hotel took the backpacks off our grateful shoulders and told us to come back in the afternoon. In the meantime, we grabbed everything we needed and zoomed out to Disney Sea on the "Mickey Train".
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| YAY MICKEY TRAIN |
The key to Disney Sea, as we found out a bit too late, is to take no prisoners - grab a fastpass for the first ride you see and get the hell in line for the second. Unfortunately we had a bit of a look around first which allowed Tokyo to get in line before us and had no choice but to wait an agonising 2 hours for our first ride. Things picked up from there though - Journey to the Centre of the Earth was pleasingly explodey and flashy and we came out looking awfully pleased despite the wait. We continued the HG Wells theme with 20k Leagues Under the Sea, then went over to "Port Discovery" for a bit of lunch.
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| YAY MICKEY BUN |
Having had our fill of steak and Mickey-shaped food, we handed in our fastpasses and went on the Indy Jones ride, being pelted by blowdarts and chased by the rolling boulder while our jeep careered around in the dark at ludicrous speeds. I'm not sure why everyone's after the crystal skull - all it does it scream and flash and kill a bunch of people.
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| Of dubious value to weather science |
We watched a water parade from afar, then headed back to Port Discovery and went on a couple of weather-themed rides - a spinny water one that kept threatening to dunk us in a waterfall and an amazingly good simulation of a plane flight during a storm, complete with fake missile crashing in through the roof and sprays of water whenever the rain pelted through the resulting hole.
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| I don't think that's a real volcano |
By this stage it was getting dark, so we had a bit more of a wander around the now very pretty waterfront, then stopped in at the faux-50's American bit for a "mile high deli sandwich" and a reuben. Having seen just about all we wanted to see, we crowded in around the lake for the start of "Fantasmic", their big night-time show that happens instead of the usual parade.
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| Boom, headshot |
As the show started, Mickey perched himself on top of a magician's hat-shaped cone of LCD screens and crapped on endlessly about imagination while the disconcerting brooms from Fantasia marched up towards him. We went through show tunes from all the big Disney names (including a surreal one of Genie singing in Japanese) while big white balls were blown up to act as projector screens as they floated around on the water. The most impressive bit was when a dragon emerged from Snow White's mirror and set fire to everything, before Mickey exploded its face with about a million fireworks. Imagination (and violence) is the key.
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| Cheap at thrice the price |
Absolutely shattered by this stage, we headed back to the hotel and checked in to our $10 room, which was about twice the size of most of the $100 ones I've stayed in. We got up in the morning and had some breakfast at the hotel, then were delighted to discover that the "only good brunch place in Tokyo" was 5 minutes walk away. "Roppongi Hills" is the Beverly Hills of Tokyo - the rich district where all the foreigners live, which is probably why there's a great brekkie spot there.
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| Oh sweet mother have mercy |
Our lunchfast consisted of the best eggs benedict I've had in a long time, pancakes with banana and bacon, falafels, home made chili con carne, marinated mushrooms and bottomless coffee. I think we both could have lost a limb afterwards and still considered it a great day. We continued our pilgrimage to another suburb of Tokyo called "Ochanomizu" where we checked in to our second $10 hotel, then spent the evening in Odaiba on the shores of Tokyo Bay.
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| Saving energy, indeed |
The "Rainbow Bridge" wasn't quite as stunning as usual - because of the situation in Fukushima, "setsuden" (power saving) has come in across the whole city which has haphazardly limited or shut down a bunch of different electricity guzzlers. Even so, the pleasure cruises tootling up and down the bay made for a nice view and none of the rest of the skyline seemed to have dimmed their lights. We wandered along the shore far enough to take a snap of the local Statue of Liberty then headed to the first queueless restaurant we could find and had some Chinese food for dinner.
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| And in this corner... |
The next day it was finally time to bid farewell to Tokyo and head off on the long trip to Kawaguchiko, a little station not far from Mount Fuji along a series of bone-rattling little trains. The trip took us about 3 hours but once we arrived it was just a walk across the road to our backpackers. As a warning for what was to come, a chronically sunburned American guy in a hiking pack stumbled in as we got there and dragged himself up the stairs by the bannister, death-rattling all the way. We started to wonder what we had signed up for.
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| Lisa sizes up her opponent |
That afternoon we tried to forget about the climb with a day trip to Fuji-Q Highland, a rollercoaster park a stop away from the hostel. Its main attractions are its 4 big rollercoasters, which split amongst themselves a bunch of different world records - one has the fastest launch speed for example, another the most inversions, another the steepest drop. Like Disney Sea, there were huge waits for all of them so at first we contented ourselves just (terrified) people watching. Another ride called "The Great Zaboon" was a log flume that took out the boring bit and literally just dumped people in quite deep water - anyone without a poncho (and several with) could expect to get off soaked to the skin which made for amusing viewing. Lisa was also pleased to get a photo with the "Highlanders" - the Power Ranger-like park mascots who carry on obnoxiously in all the safety videos to show you what not to do.
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| The new recruit |
One of the lines had died right back by this stage, so we committed ourselves to "Fujiyama", a classic up and down rollercoaster with a 70m drop and lots of drainpipes. Once we had buckled ourselves in and started the ascent, we realised what we were up for - 70m is a lot higher from the top than the bottom. We climbed and climbed and eventually reached 40 - Lisa didn't laugh when I said we were halfway up. She started screaming as we crested and barely stopped for breath the entire way; I have to admit getting my head within a few feet of the ground in excess of 100km/hr raised a bit of a shriek from me as well. We got off hoarse and bandy-legged, not entirely sure whether the buzz was from excitement or a near-death experience.
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| Kind of like this but with our mouths upside down |
We got back to the hostel and laid out our futons on the tatami, woke up in the morning and had some toast, then had a bath with a nice view of Fuji out the window. We still had some time to amuse ourselves until the afternoon so we headed into town to grab some last minute supplies and had lunch at Gusto, where we bought a "Mount Fuji" plate of chips and tried to line it up for a photo with the actual mountain. Then there were no excuses left - it was time to go back to the station and await the bus that would take us there.
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| The calm before the storm |
We met up with our tour group and began the trek up to the 5th station halfway up the mountain. As we snaked up the roads, the tour guide busied herself telling us horror stories about altitude sickness, sub-zero temperatures, people being lost on the mountain and death being a very real possibility. Suitably unnerved, we got to the 5th station and were treated to a panoramic view of the surrounding countryside, had a quick bite to eat and were asked to get our gear on and get ready to climb.
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| If only we knew |
The first bit of the trail was a piece of cake, an almost flat and meandering path along the edge that most of the tourists seemed to be doing in thongs. Optimistic signs all the way kept pointing out that the summit was only 6km away so it all seemed like a cakewalk. The trail started to steepen slightly and we began the long zigzag up towards the next station, but it was by no means difficult - I started wondering what all the fuss was about after a while. On cue, the wind picked up which blanketed us in swirling fog, then the rain started. We stopped straight away and were asked to put on our wet weather gear - we heaved our waterproof pants over our boots, zipped up our jackets and pulled the raincovers over our packs. Not a moment too soon either - the soaking rain started at that point and we didn't have much of a break from it for the rest of the night. Visibility dropped to zero and we had to use our headlamps even though the sun hadn't even set yet. We passed the 6th station and the trail started to get rockier and sandier, and just as darkness fell we came to a horrible steep "cliff" trail where we had to scramble over rocks all the way to the next station. Looking up, the trail of lights continued marching up the mountain and I wondered how far it could be to our hut. It took about another hour of pounding rain and slippery rocks before we finally got there.
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| RAAH WHO'S GOT MY BOOTS |
Inside was chaos, with people pulling off their shoes and trying to dry off their jackets on a plastic sheet. The owners were scurrying around handing out breakfasts and plastic bags for wet gear, then suddenly we were shunted into a little room with wall-wide bunk beds that everyone lay down on elbow-to-elbow before lights out. The idea that we could just switch off the adreneline and have a nice nap was absurd, but we lay obediently with our hearts pounding in our ears all the same. I suppose I must have fallen asleep at some stage, because it was suddenly midnight and the guide came in to say that the weather wasn't letting up and it was unlikely that we'd be able to make it to the top - he would come back in an hour with a final decision. At 1am we were told that it was wet and windy but not too bad - we could continue the ascent or just crash out and head down in the morning. About 10 of the 40 decided to retire but we decided to press on, having come this far already. We made a few adjustments (buying Lisa her own light, for one) and shipped out with the intrepid explorers.
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| Mouths pinned into smiling position |
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| It's not much, but it's somethin' |
The summit was reached without fanfare just in time to see the sunrise, which was almost perfectly obscured by the clouds. We were too cold and exhausted to care by this stage - as soon as we stopped moving we both started chattering and turning blue, so we retreated into the hut in the centre area and didn't come out again until it was time to start the descent. We probably should have felt like we had achieved something wonderful in getting all the way, but declared that we'd worry about things like that once we were safe and warm at the bottom. Fortunately the sun had started to warm things up a little bit by now and the further down we went the warmer it got. At first, the going was much easier because we were using different muscles but before long they started to give out too and it became more of a downhill flop than a walk. Both of us spilled on the loose rocks on the way down, but we made it back to the 7th station in record time and not too much the worse for wear. The closer we got to the bottom though, the slower going it was - I'm sure the signs were lying just to make us feel better about how much progress we were making. The summit to the 7th seemed to take about 30 minutes, the 7th to the 6th seemed to take about 2 hours, the 6th to the 5th about 3 and then the 5th back to the village about 488 years. By the time we came in view of it, Lisa had blisters instead of feet and I had overcooked asparagus instead of thighs - it was only raw determination and lots of swearing that kept us going. The most infuriating thing about it was that this was the trail we had had such an easy time of when we started out - on the way back it may as well have been Mount Doom.
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| "Just one more bend" |
Thanking every god we could think of, we hobbled our way back into the settlement, collected our little souvenir "you survived Fuji" bells and made a beeline for the bus. We disassembled everything and packed all our rental stuff away to be handed back, which meant that all we had to take home with us was a bag of dirty clothes each. It wasn't until now that the guide said we deserved special congratulations for getting to the top during a bloody typhoon - the rest of the tours had officially been cancelled so we were probably the last to make it up there. I don't remember much about the bus trip back down, other than an overwhelming feeling of exhaustion and what was probably some very loud snoring. We stopped over at a hot spring on the way home and I had what was quite possibly the best bath of all time, floating in the bubbles and gradually convincing my knees that I still loved them.
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| Something something follow your dreams |
After a few rest stops and a lot of dozing off, we found ourselves back in Osaka and managed to hobble our way home between train, bus and torturously long staircase, then locked our door and vowed not to unlock it until we could feel our legs again. The sense of achievement kind of sank in over the weekend - not the "poster of a buff guy standing on the peak of a mountain with his arms raised in a V" kind, mind you - more a swirling sense of relief and happiness that we had made it there, made it all the way up to the top despite the conditions and made it down without giving up and hurling ourselves into the abyss. I'd like to think that kind of thing will continue to sweeten after the blisters and doom flu are a distant memory; at the very least we'll end up with another good story to bore the grandkids.
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