In Search of Fujisan

I'm told that Mt. Fuji is a permanent resident of this country. That may be true, but I've only chanced to encounter Its Majesty on less than a handful of occasions. It's all about timing and weather and location, and with viewing opportunities dwindling with the passing of each day, Chris suggested a weekend trip to a nearby hot-spring resort. There we could take our time, stroll through the quaint streets of Hakone, switchback up the mountain by train, travel by boat on a lovely mountain lake, admire from the comfort of our peak-to-peak tram the steamy, sulfurous emissions puffing from the mountainside - all while enjoying spectacular views of the elusive Fujisan. 

Maybe.

Despite his best efforts to plan a memorable mountain adventure, no amount of Chris's clicks and scrolls could outmaneuver the stubborn fog and lashing rains insistent on joining us for the weekend. Such unwelcome guests! Still, we trudged forward with our plan, enjoying a pleasant two-hour train ride into Hakone from Tokyo on the Odakyu Line Romancecar.  For our family, the train ride seems to be half the adventure, and who doesn't want to ride the Romancecar for the name alone?

Saturday dawned gray, cloudy, and misty - none of which would play very nicely with 'spectacular views' - but we were not to be deterred. Bring on our switchback train ride up the mountain! Our peak-to-peak ropeway! Our Swiss-made cable-car! Our boat excursion! Bring on those spectacular views! (Such an optimist...) 

High on adventure and low on alternate plans, we gamely set out in the rain. My memory of this day is a hazy collection of riding some unusually fun modes of transport enshrouded in a cloudy fog the entire time. There was an occasional glimpse of a snow-covered peak, a passing view of sulfur escaping the mountain, but it is as if we were wrapped in gauze the entire day.

The switchback operator manually
eases us further up the mountain

Riding the ropeway to the sulfur springs

Sulfur-boiled snack, anyone? These black-shelled
hard-boiled eggs are a popular treat on top of the mountain.

The sulfur springs were a big hit.

When life hands you less-than-spectacular views, make friends. These cheerful girls did not stop giggling, talking and sharing their snacks with Patrick and Evelyn during the ropeway ride down the mountain. They also thoughtfully translated the operator's rather important parting message as he closed the doors to the tram: the boat for which we were heading had canceled its run due to 'dense fog'. You don't say! At this point we cut our losses, hopped on the nearest bus, and headed to the sanctuary of our hotel for happy hour and a dip in the hot spring.

It would be shamefully omissive if miserable weather were my only take-away from Hakone. Better to remember instead so many other things - our hotel, the food, the gardens - that made this weekend so much more than wet clothes and chilly toes!

Yes, better to remember the clever accommodations Chris found. Not one to bathe with his fellow man in a public hot spring (but not wanting the kids to miss out on an age-old tradition here) Chris cunningly hunted down an inn featuring our own private onsen. The rain, so pesky and pelting during the day, drummed cozily on the covered porch of our hot spring at night. And once again we were fed like royalty...beautiful, clever, meticulously-created dishes that we probably did not deserve to be served!

How simple to dine morning and evening wearing the hotel-provided yukata. Cute, comfortable, and best of all, dry!

And shame on me if I didn't mention the beautiful garden just outside our doors. No amount of rainy weather could keep us from exploring the twists and turns of this enchanting paradise.

You win this time, Fujisan. But as I relish the memories of the weekend and our fun in spite of the weather, I can't help but wonder if we got just what we came for.