Though I had thought of moving to Japan for many years, and I did a long distance hike last year. It wasn’t until I heard of ‘Kintaro Walks Japan’ that I thought of putting my two interests together. Kintaro, or Tyler as he’s known in real life, was inspired by Ayumi whose dad still holds the record for the longest unbroken walk, going from the tip of southern America to the top of Alaska and taking 7 years. So it was obviously a pleasure for me to be invited along on a climb of Mt. Fuji with Ayumi, her father George Meegan, her brother Geoffrey (who walked across India when he was 14!), boyfriend Paul, a bunch of Japanese friends plus Lisa, a reader of Ayumi’s blog who happened to be in the area.

Fuji-san has many mountain huts, each with names but also numbered 1-10 on each route roughly corresponding to altitude. Most walks start at the fifth level (or station) and so did ours. It was quite warm to start with, going steeply uphill helped, but the sky darkened and thunder came rolling in and was soon directly above. Last night at the hostel it had been so intense that the thunder from one strike was still going when the next one hit. It was not going to be a good night to camp. We pushed on up as the rain began. Soon I was drenched through and cursing the stupid MacPac jacket that fits like a glove but absorbs water like a sponge and poor Tania wasn’t much better off. I’ve never been outside in a storm like that. We had to keep moving to keep warm so we began passing slower hikers and were surprised when the first building we found turned out to be the hut Geoffrey had booked.

 
We were shunted through into the darkness (later found out the generator is disabled during storms) and made to place all our wet clothing in plastic bags. What they didn’t say was we couldn’t hang things up to dry. One couple found this rule out when one of the workers yelled at them and refused to let them finish the rather short question of “why?” without him yelling more. He was even more abusive to George, swearing away in Japanese, apparently unaware that he was well understood by the majority of George’s friends. So if you ever go to the 7th station on the Subarishi Line, don’t try to dry your socks.

Otherwise it was a pretty fun, though cramped night. The multilayer bunks and continuous mattresses made for quite a unique place in my experience of Japan. Our plan had been for setting off at midnight to see sunrise from the summit, but as the storm continued well into the night we decided against it.

At 4am Tania woke me and told me to take a look outside. I’m glad she did because it was the only time I’ll ever be halfway up Mt. Fuji and see the lights of towns below and the huts above. To the north I could even see lightning in the clouds but it faded with sunrise and not seen again.

 
We set off about 5:45am and soon it was so hot I couldn’t walk with my Icebreaker shirt on. So I took it off and it stayed off, to the shock and awe of many passing Japanese who were dressed up as if leaving Everest base camp. Clouds came suddenly and left just as quickly as Tania and I climbed the next 800m to the summit. Since I’ve been training pretty much all day every day for 3 months I had a slight advantage but Tania carried on despite the pain. She’s not one to give up on a challenge like this and I like that about her. So, around 3.5 hours later we reached the rim and admired the epic view while trying to ignore the hundreds of other hikers, the shops and even the post office.
 
    

 
 
Going down was harder than expected. Tania’s excellent Keen sandals worked well on the rocky climb, but it was a slightly different descent and the ground was now loose grit that got wedged under her already sore feet. While Paul was having trouble keeping his face off the rocks (tip: don’t off-piste down Fuji’s loose grit unless you’re looking well ahead) we swapped shoes and my leathery soles and callused toes saw me safely to the bottom in sandals at least two sizes too small. The ’sand slide’ is really soft grit that can be fun to run down if you’ve got the energy and the guts to get completely out of control. It does however drop at least 600m and is very tiring no matter how you approach it. We’d been walking with Paul and Ayumi most of the way and with a bit of luck they’ll be another couple that someday we’ll be able to host in Auckland.
 

  

By chance we happened to be passing by Matsumoto (and thus Charles and Yuko who I saw at my half-way point two months ago) during a festival. As the rather repetitive song explained it was “bon bon Matsumoto, bon bon bon!”. Played on a loop through loud speakers it got the parade of groups ranging from 5 drinking buddies to hundreds of school kids, companies and dance troupes. All were doing the same moves and relatively in time too.

 
     
Charles, Yuko and a few more from the party I attended were dancing too, but Tania and I just stayed in the crowd, and it was very crowded. We decided to leave a bit early because it had become so packed that it was almost as hot after dark as it had been during the day, which is to say it was stifling. We taken full advantage of the free breakfast in Nagano and then taken a slow and hot walk around Mastumoto Castle, nicknamed The Crow because of its black and white colour scheme. It’s one of the oldest castles in Japan (400+ years old, not a rebuilt replica) and has the interesting trick of appearing to have 5 floors from the outside, but actually having 6. Well worth a look if you’re ever in the area.
 
 
 

Nikko has to be seen to be believed. Founded hundreds of years ago and kept active ever since, there are so many shrines and large temples that it kept fast walkers like us busy all day. We got there before the tour buses and appreciated the calm before the storm of school children that had descended by lunch time.

 
 
The paint and metal work is kept in good condition so you really get a good feel of what these buildings looked like originally. Of particular interest was the Toshogu Shrine and its woodwork. Carved into the ‘Sacred Stable’ (which happens to be home to the only temple horse that has come from another country, and that country happens to be New Zealand) is the famous depiction of “see no evil, speak no evil, hear no evil” as acted out by monkeys.
 
 
Facing that is a ‘Sacred Store House’ and the carvings of elephants that has clearly been done by someone who has never actually seen an elephant. They have the general idea right and are clearly talented artists, but the animals shown here are not quite right. I’ve seen the same phenomenon in Te Papa, New Zealand’s national museum. There a medal for some heroic or brave act shows african animals as they would have been described. Rhinos with riveted armour plating and giraffes with horse-like bodies.
 
 
I’m a bit worried about my fitness now. I’m tired after a slow day with only a day pack. Hopefully it’s a mental thing. No drive to get anywhere and so much stuff to absorb. When we get to Fuji next week there will be a definite goal and no ancient temples to ponder. Just physical exhaustion to battle and I’m cool with that.

The man running the youth hostel in Urubandai National Park was exceptionally nice to us. We’d been planning on staying in one of the cabins there but as it was raining and as no one had booked in advance they hadn’t been cleaned and the electricity was turned off. At least I think that’s what the story was. Either way it resulted in us being given a private room for ¥2000 less than two dormitory bunks.

 
Another major benefit of the YH was its location at the start of the five coloured lake walking path which Tania and I did today. When Bandai-san last erupted it blew about 600m off the top and into the valleys to the north. The rivers got blocked and a new plateau was created along with many lakes of different and interesting colours. I guess the dodgy looking weather kept the crowds away as we didn’t see many people. Tania did get her first sighting of a wild snake, but only the tail as it slithered away into the undergrowth. Dragonflies were everywhere on the second stretch of trail and some were tame enough (or lazy enough) for me to sneak up really close. It’s worth viewing this photo full-size to look at the eye things.
    
So I’d definitely recommend the Bandai Plateau, and I wish the weather had been good enough to climb Bandai-san itself but alas the peak spent most of the day well above the clouds.

Sukayu onsen, in the hills north of Lake Towada, is sometimes referred to as ‘the 1000 person bath’. A slight exaggeration I think but the hotel it is part of could certainly hold that many. It’s an old building of long creaky hallways and winding staircases creating a confusing labyrinth that makes following the receptionist’s directions very hard. In the end I asked for the kanji characters for ofuro and remembered seeing them on a sign upstairs somewhere. That evening a middle-aged lady and her younger protege were leading other women around the carpark in a circle. They were waving and clapping their hands in traditional ways with the guests picking up the moves quite quickly. I didn’t want to get involved but we did at least venture down in our yakata (thin cotton kimonos) and watched for over an hour. That hour by the way featured only one song, repeated a dozen times from some tinny stereo in the corner.

 
 
 
 

In Kakunodate the weather changed. Bright sunshine all day and I’m very grateful for the extra cherry flavoured ice-cream the vendor gave us. It’s all about the samurai district here. Big old wooden houses you can see right through when the walls/doors are pulled back. The district is very distinct, changing back to traffic lights and supermarkets by crossing one street.

 
Since the major building material of ancient Japan was wood large sections of history have been lost to fire. The temple complex at Hiraizumi, once a rival to Kyoto, suffered such a fate during fighting between ambitious warlords. One building that survived intact was the truly amazing Golden Hall (no photos allowed :( ).
 
   
 
 
We wandered around the paths for most of the morning and admired some of the smaller temples and the sutra room. When we came to leave town we got instructions about changing trains at Ichinoseki and confidently boarded the right train. Now I rarely appreciate being shouted at, unless it’s along the lines of “hey you forgot your wallet” or “get your free ice-cream right here!”. So to be shouted at from within arms reach, in a foreign language by someone who isn’t even angry at you is really not a good way to lighten my mood. Like us this guy, 50 something with buzz cut hair, a ruffled suit and a random collection of teeth, had missed the announcement that we were supposed to change trains at Kogota (that big earthquake has destroyed Japan’s always-on-time train schedule) so he’d also suddenly found himself watching the scenery move back to where it had been. I had been asleep, Tania has only been here a week, what was his excuse? I suspect he didn’t have one but he tried to argue his point with the train driver and station attendant until they left him and he tried venting in our direction. I quickly got tired of telling him I didn’t understand but he persisted. Getting louder and louder while waving angrily at the tracks. He tried the same act while sitting right next to a sweet looking old lady, somehow she soothed him a bit but it was still painfully loud two seats away.
 
    
 
Sendai’s tourist info room is awesome. As in I was awestruck that the girl in there had to ask a colleague where the pay-phones in her own train station were. It was right there on the map on her desk so I pointed them out and walked about 10m around the corner to make a call.
 

Hakodate had the worst of the rain. Possibly the worst rain I’ve ever seen first hand. We lay on the futons expecting each lull to be the end of it only to have it pick up again with more force than before. If it wasn’t by the sea there would have been major flooding, but the city drains well and in the time it took us to explore the morning fish markets the streets had mostly dried and the sun poked through enough to make walking uphill an exhausting experience.

 
Around the lower slopes of Mt. Hakodate are churches of various denominations. The Russian Orthodox one was what caught my eye in the pamphlet but the Greek Orthodox was the strangest. The closest I can get to describing it is as an old-style windmill with the rotating blades now facing upwards and rooms built below them.
 
 
The curious thing about Hakodate is that it has built its tourist industry on its non-Japanese side. As one of the first ports to be opened to foreign trade, it got a lot of outside influence. Add to this watching Indiana Jones in English and eating (spicy) Thai food in a modern version of China Town and you’d easily forget which country you’re in.
 
 
You’re clearly not in Europe though when you get woken in the middle of the night by an earthquake measuring 6.8 on the Richter scale. It shook for quite a long time, enough for me to be sure it wasn’t actually a truck driving down the hallway, and a low rumbling sound I’d never heard before. Outside the window the power-lines were shaking but no sirens sounded and there were no signs of panic.

It’s been nearly a week since I reached the cape and in that time I’ve travelled south to Hakodate, a journey that took 22 days on foot.

It’s still the rainy season up here so while the rain alternates between light-drizzle and heavy-monsoon there are occasional breaks of scorching heat making dressing for the day a difficult choice. Our first stop on the way south was a brief stop at Bifuka Onsen road station where I found Sato-san still camped but Barabara had moved on. As we boarded the bus again the driver politely told us someone had complained about us talking too loudly. Since it was now 8:30am it was a bit late to expect to be sleeping, and anyway if you don’t like talkative foreigners I advise not sitting down right next to them. We’d been first on the bus back at Wakkanai.

Asahikawa is a pleasant enough city with wide pedestrian precincts and a park for napping in during the sunny spells. The real attraction of the area though is south of there in an area known as Furano, famous for skiing and its summer flowers. It was a holiday weekend and the crowds showed it. The traffic jams leading to Farm Tomita’s car park stretched for kilometers in every direction and approaching on foot was the wisest idea. It also meant we stumbled upon a small fair with some local foods and what we thought might be a cultural dance on the stage. It was actually a Power Ranger show with those ridiculous bad-guy costumes, sound effects and audience participation.

 
We came for the lavender fields and they were very impressive, but there were many other flowers fields to see as well as melon fever that has some people forking out upwards of ¥3000 (about $37 NZD) per fruit! Tania settled for a lavender ice-cream while I held out and made her follow me 2km to the cafe with the “Santa Claus’ Beard” dessert I passed on the way north.
 

 
That evening Asahikawa threw a street fair just in time for our birthdays, so we spent a while wandering through it and admiring the kimonos some local ladies were wearing. It’s really cool that there is a distinctive cultural look and people still wear it in public.
    
Next stop Sapporo and another well-timed festival. For anyone needing a hostel in the area I’d recommend Ino’s Place. Very nice staff and clean facilities. A bit far from the center but an easy subway ride. Though I’m not a beer drinker I’d probably get lynched if I came home without sampling at least one glass of the local drink on the beer fest’s opening night. This year it runs for a month and must be killing the local bar scene. One major task I achieved was picking up my Alien Registration Card. By law all non-Japanese people must carry this card everywhere (passports are acceptable also, you must apply for a card with 90 days of arrival). At any moment the police can demand to see it and, as happened to me in Wakkanai a few hours before Tania arrived and just 30km from the cape. If you accidentally leave it in your bag at the youth hostel while walking to the bus station you’ll get hauled off to the police station and guarded by seven armed officers while you write an apology letter*. That’s for a first offense, if you’re really lucky. It could also lead to more serious trouble I expect.
 

I should probably send out a big Thank You to the patient sales people at Bic Camera. I had practiced the words to ask for a phone charger and then substituted the word phone for GPS. This totally confused them and I had to explain, via hand signals, that the GPS part was not the important part. Eventually I had the idea of specifying the voltage and amperage and that worked. They could then tell me that I was looking for an a-she a-da-pa-ta not a judenki as I had been saying. So if all else fails try English words with a Japanese accent.

 
*This is not an exaggeration. The first officer had already taken me to the hostel to retrieve my passport. They were almost all polite, and the female officer was sporting a handbag with pink trim, but they all had guns and they were all in the tiny room watching me. Japan must be the safest place in the world if they all had no actual crime to investigate.

More grey skies this morning, but the rain held off. With fresh supplies from the nearest Seicomart convenience store (of which Wakkanai probably has 200), Tania and I started the 30km walk north east along the coast to Cape Soya. The wind was against us the whole way, with shelter provided in the half-dozen small townlets hanging on to the shore. This is a tough place to live. Wakkanai’s average temperature is just 7 degrees. Today pushed the mercury up to 9 so it may have been considered warm by some. Not by me though. The wind kept howling, the noses kept running but, as I yelled into one particularly tough gust
“You can’t stop me!”

    
And so it was that after 95 days and 6 hours I reached Japan’s most northerly point. The monument itself was nice, busy with windswept tourists, all Japanese. East of there, and out of sight from our long approach was a cluster of commercial buildings, gift shops, petrol stations, ramen shops and more. Tacky is the best word for it, but it was no different to anywhere else that people come to view something deemed important.
 
So now I’m done. Tomorrow I can dress in denim and cotton, buy heavy food, drink alcohol if I choose and generally return to modern life. It’s not going to be as dramatic as leaving the PCT that’s for sure. I’ve been near society here almost all the way. With Tania at my side we’re off for some sightseeing and birthday relaxing. The daily updates will stop but I’ll post when I can with new stories and photos. The difference being I am no longer just one man, and I am no longer walking.

Word of the day: WWWHHHHHOOOOOOHHHOOOOOOOO!

Distance today: 31.5 km

There will now be a brief intermission.

 

Word of the day: i-sho-ni = together