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| Oh hai, Fujisan |
Mt. Fuji finally appeared. I cannot tell you how often I have gone to work on a Saturday morning, turned around, and seen Mt. Fuji rising in the distance, only to look the following morning--on my day off--to find it covered by the impenetrable wall of pestilence known as smog. And then it happened. Yesterday morning I woke up to find Fujisan rising up in the distance. And me with a day off. So, I naturally did what someone of my nature always does. I put on clothes as fast as I could and set off on a walk to get a picture of that gosh darn mountain. And I did it. I might have terrified some poor Japanese people with the look on my face--especially when I realized that the telephone poles in this country are made out of metal instead of wood--but gosh darn it I finally got a picture of that mountain over the fields. And boy is it beautiful.
So, I continued on my walk, and wouldn't you know it I ran into a stork. As usual, it flew off before I could get a good picture.
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When I write these blog post, I find that adding the pictures takes the longest out of all the tasks involved. First I have to sort through the pictures, then I have to upload the pictures onto my computer, then I have to upload the pictures from my computer to the blog...I had a long day, so the above will be the only picture...for now.
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Walking back home, I decided to go by the supermarket to do my weekly shopping. For the first time in Japan, I encountered a wet floor sign. No, not a wet floor sign. In America, the assumption of the average population is that a small cone will be enough to warn anyone. If you slip and fall, it's your own darn fault. Not so in Japan. I don't know if it's because they were cleaning up the station's floor in the middle of the day, or if they always do it this way, but they had an entire section of the floor cordoned off. They still had cones posted warning people that the floor was wet, but I don't see the point when the entire wet area is unavailable.
The rest of the day was spent, "cleaning." By cleaning, I mean somehow turning what was a contained mess into an apartment wide catastrophe. My apartment looked halfway decent before, but now it looks like an utter disaster. Hopefully this is a step forward in the name of progress.
This morning I woke up to find that I had actually slept in until 7:00am. Normally, I would be rather ecstatic, but not this morning. I was going to Chichibu, and I was supposed to be meeting people at the station by 8:30...and I had slept in. Quick as a flash I checked BBC, had a shower, scarfed a banana, filled my water bottles, and ran out the door. Only to find that it was garbage day and I had missed the last one. Eeek, split second decision time. Do I go to the station, or run back, grab the burnable garbage, and bring it to the curb. I chose the latter. So I dashed into the apartment, grabbed the yogurt from the fridge--well, more green fuzz on the remnant than yogurt now--tossed it in, grabbed the paper garbage (forgot about the cardboard garbage) tie it off and run it to the curb. Next stop, the bank. Try to withdraw money, put in wrong pin, start all over. Successfully put in right pin, withdraw money. Dash off toward the station and run into the nearest konvini (convenience store in Japanese, I kid not) and search for something--anything--that has egg but no other meat products. Find that much harder than it should have been. Leave the store to find...I'm the first one here. For once in this country, I am not only on time, but early. Talk about a blast from the past, I seem to be turning into something more of my old self.
We all got together and (barely, twice) made it to both of our trains. Where were we headed? Nagatoro. A beautiful, mountainous region, it reminded me quite a bit of the Willamette River valley, if said valley had a continuous inhabitation presence and lacked any tall buildings. Still, compared to Tokyo and its suburbs it was a welcome change. Our first stop was a small whitewater rafter tour, although the whitewater in question was fairly tame. We went through it in wooden boats that looked like giant canoes, with plastic on the side to make sure that neither gear nor people got wet. We then took a walk along a shale outcropping by the river. Shale rock fascinates me to this day, the way that it is so clearly layered yet utterly stuck together. It also has a nice amount of grip to it, making some light bouldering a nice experience.
Following a short rest and hydration break, we were on our way to the Nagatoro Museum of Natural History (yay fossils of the Pleistocene and beyond). It really was a beautiful walk through a lush area, only to find that--guess what--the museum is closed on Mondays. I guess that's life, and we got a beautiful walk. We then decided to take another hydration break, and discovered that another convini was nearby. This was rather convenient, considering that one of our group was a little short on cash. However, assured that there would be an ATM near the station, we went on our way. What did we find? According to information, there was no ATM. Curses. So, we asked a shop owner as well and, wouldn't you know it, there was an ATM quite close. Two, in fact, as we were to find out.
We then stopped for lunch at a rather old fashion noodle place. I had the soba noodles, and they were absolutely delicious. Talk about a nice lunch with a great atmosphere--although sitting in front of a couple of stuffed birds (they looked like peahens) was a tad disturbing.
Following lunch, we were away to a shrine. This place we beautifully ornate, with reds, blues, and greens inlaid with gold. It was an interesting place to visit, but as we approached a bus showed up, and out poured a group of elderly Japanese women. With them was a man, rather well muscled and probably well into his early thirties. There just seemed to be something so cliche about the scene--especially the way that he had to heard them while answering all of their questions--that I couldn't help but laugh. Following the shrine, we dashed up a hill to take a cable car up to another shrine complex.
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Legend has it that the shrine on top of the mountain was dedicated to some spirit dogs who helped defend a prince against a fire. The story begins long in the past, about 1900 years ago, when Japan was not so much one kingdom as many warring princedoms. One such prince marched his army up a hill to gain an advantage, but soon found himself and his troops surrounded by an enormous blaze. When all hope seemed lost--the prince realizing that he had condemned his troops to a horrible death--strange black and white shapes leaped from the trees and started to smother the flames. As the prince watched on, he realized that they were dogs. Following the path of the dogs, he soon found himself on the top of the hill, with the dogs nowhere to be seen. Realizing that the dogs were spirit messengers, he immediately dedicated the top of the hill to them, and built a shrine in their honor.
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We then walked around the hill a bit, and saw a massive number of Azalea bushes in all colors possible, plus a shrine at the top of the hill with a spectacular view. Rather than taking the cable car back down when we were done, we decided to walk. The trail, I will admit, was quite dusty and rocky, but on the whole very simple and comparable to many such trails back in Oregon or the states. To some who were more accustomed to city areas, it seemed to present a bit more of a challenge. However, we all made it through and, on the advice of one of our compatriots, went off for a snow cone (shaved ice).
The shave ice place was of a very modern design. The door automatically closed via a clever weight and pulley system, the chairs had no backs, there was some jazz music in the background, and everything edible was clearly hand made. In short, it was Starbucks in the 90's with snow cones instead of coffee and I-don't-know-who instead of Nora Jones. Following my usual restaurant etiquette in Japan, I turned to my companions and let them know that, so long as I could eat what they ordered, they were to order me anything. They got me a matcha-red bean paste snow cone. Not only was it enormous, but it was delicious too. It was so big, in fact, that I simply couldn't finish it. I did have room to try the other flavors that we had ordered, however. Those were a milky strawberry, and kinako (I did not spell that right, but all is now corrected). They were both delicious. It is hard to describe the size of these things, however. The only image that I can think of comes from the Fellowship of the Ring movie, where Merry gets a pint. Oh man was it huge, and oh my dear sweet heeby-jeebies was it delicious.
After the monstrosity of sweetness, we crossed the road to see an old house...only to find it closed. We then went to walk among the beautifully blooming flowers (at least one of us while singing the Sound of Music) only to find it a dusty, albeit beautiful, bowl. So, instead we went souvenir shopping. We then boarded the train and, lost in our own thoughts, went home. We talked a little, and laughed, and all had a fun time. There were five of us: two teachers and three students. But, for those hours, I forgot the boundary between us. We were friends on an adventure, and that was all that mattered.
This has been another adventure in the Austentatious. If you liked it, tell your friends; if you hated it, tell your enemies; and if you didn't care either way, then tell everyone. Good night.
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