Sam's (aka the Traveller) Chichibu diary

Saturday 21st March

Another Saturday morning, another early start, this time the hour is merely 7.30am. Despite hugely long working day on Friday sleep did not come easily to the traveller, and he is forced to rise after only five hours downtime. What kind of circumstances could drag this gaijin from bed after this little sleep? What else, but another excursion into the hinterlands of Japan. There is much thrashing around over what to take: wet-weather gear? hot-weather gear? earthquake-weather gear? ice-storm weather gear?
	Sam eventually sets off with a fairly light pack (much serious walking is intended, none of this namby-pamby tourist sight-seeing business). This trip, as Sam has assured his fellow travellers, has been carefully planned. Notice this particular phrase ("carefully planned") as it is likely to be repeated a number of times over the coming paragraphs. Inspired by the Hakone expedition of two weeks previously, organised so effectively by Stefan, Nanae, and Soyoka; Sam has decided that he will arrange a trip to the Northwest of Tokyo, to the Chichibu-tama national parks. The plan (yes, the plan) is that the group (right to left in photo; Sam{British}, Nicolas{French}, Carlos{Columbian}, Jean-Francois{French}, Thierry{French}, Matt{Canadian - didn't come, in picture for extra colour}, Jeremie{French again}) will travel by train to Seibu-Chichibu station, from whence they will depart on an eight hour hike.
Accordingly to the unfailingly accurate Lonely planet guidebook, there is a mountain ryokan about half way down the trail. The plan is to stay the night at this Japanese hotel after the first half of the hike. On the Sunday the rest of the trail will be covered, ending in Kamozawa where a bus will take the intrepid adventurers to Oku-tama station and then back to Tokyo. At least, this is the plan. Sam has phoned the mountain ryokan, and they have informed him (through Tatsuhiro, Toshiba co-worker who speaks good English) that there is no need to make a reservation, and the Japanese national tourist office have provided lists of train and bus times into and out of the Chichibu-tama region; with this kind of careful planning what could possibly go wrong?
The first step of this carefully arranged plan is that everybody should meet on Shinkoyasu station platform at 9.00am. This actually happens at more like 9.15am; the most obvious reason being the need for some individuals to stock up on food for the coming trip. [N.B. Carlos needs to bring additional food for his alien, a chunky pet plaything that resides in his stomach and demands that he continually consume food; as we like to say "He is eating for two now"]. The party sets off without further ado, and they manage to bring themselves to Ikebukuro station (still in Tokyo), by the alloted 10.15, and they proceed to try and find out how they get to the right part of the station that will allow them to depart for seibu-chichibu. There was a limited express train at 10.30 that would go straight to seibu-chichibu, but inexplicably this train is completely full and the travellers must now take two local trains in order to get to the same destination.
	This possibility had been allowed for in the meticulous planning performed prior to the journey, and as such would not seriously damage the trip, merely forcing the group to arrive at their intended destination slightly later than expected.There is a further upside for Carlos who, after the gang have teased him about how much a cetain female on the train wants his body, rouses himself from a post-snacking doze and approaches the said Japanese lady. Under the incredulous and embarrassed stares of the others, Carlos proceeds with his patented chat up lines of "How do we get to ...? Do you know how long it takes to get to ...? My, you speak very good English ...". The other travellers are aware of Carlos' prowess in this department, but rarely have they seen it so effectively implemented. Before five minutes have elapsed Carlos and Tomomi (the Japanese girl) have swapped names and phone numbers, and arranged a date for sometime in the next month. Simply watching the master in action is not enough, and so Thierry unpacks his video camera, and a short series of masterclasses are filmed, narrated by Sam. Look for it in the shops soon, "Meeting women: the Columbian Method. Your route to constant female companionship in six easy lessons".
Arrival in Chichibu-seibu is met with cries of "Lunch, lunch", and mindful of the precious minutes slipping by (not), the travellers force their way into a local ramen bar, greedily consuming bowls of miso-ramen and giyosa. A detailed inspection of the map provided by the lonely planet guidebook reveals that another train must be taken in order to get to the start of the hike. "No, not overlooked" Asserts Sam. "This is in fact still part of the plan. No, really". Carlos employs his considerable Japanese speaking abilities in order to ask directions to the second station that the travellers must find, a certain Mitsumine eki (eki is Japanese for station). The Columbian quickly sizes up the situation and the leads the eager troupe off towards the station's probable location. About five minutes later, after they have crossed a set of railway tracks, and are busily heading away from them, Sam queries Carlos about his directional knowledge. "This way, this way", Carlos has been exclaiming gleefully, but eventually he is forced to admit that he is now guessing.
	The gaijin troupe waylay an unfortunate passerby, and after wrestling him to the ground, they extract information indicating that they are travelling in the wrong direction. Their course reversed, Hanabatake station is discovered, and the ticket buying/which train debacle is quickly resolved (well, I say quickly, what I mean is, before the train has arrived). Successfully ensconsed on a second densha (train) the adventurers are now making good time to Mistumine; throughout the morning the urban sprawl of Tokyo had been gradually replaced by more rural surroundings; now the industrialisation dwindles further away, mountain peaks bedecked with firs thrusting their snow capped peaks skyward on either side.
Sam conducts a careful inspection of the maps adorning the walls of the train, and discovers to his horror that there is yet a bus and a cable car before the start of the serious walking. It is already 2.00pm, and there will soon not be enough time to make it as far as the mountain ryokan. Nonetheless, according to the infallable lonely planet guidebook, it is a quick forty minute walk from Mitsumine station to the 2000 year old Mitsumine Shrine and this is apparently included as part of the prescribed four hours it will take to reach the ryokan. No problem, Sam reassures his fellow travellers as they unexpectedly mount a startled bus in Mitsumine, this has all been carefully planned. Promptly the group is deposited near the base of the cable car that runs up the mountain to the Mitsumine jinja (shrine).
	Carlos has practically ascended half the mountain before Sam insists that they seek further instructions (and at least a more detailed map) at the cable car base. The group consensus is that travelling in the cable car is not an acceptable option. They have come to hike in the wilderness, they are men, they are strong, they do not need cable cars. Sam finds a map and a helpful gaijin in the cable car station, and gets his bearings. There are two mountains in between them and the ryokan, which is still not marked on any of the more detailed maps. As they start to climb the trail that leads up the shrine, Sam thinks that reaching the ryokan would neccesitate taking the cable car, but what the hell. Sometimes you just have to go with the flow.
And this flow ain't too bad, the scenery is quite literally stunning. The trail winds its way back and forth up the mountain, zig-zagging to prevent the ascent from becoming too steep. The area is wooded with pine trees, there are numerous streams, a waterfall (which Carlos insists on trying to climb around the back of), small shrines and statues of Buddhas. Not to mention various stone slabs engraved with Kanji, and small signposts indicating it is 2.6km to the shrine. The trail had been taken up by the group of young men at approximately 3.00pm, meaning that they would have to make seriously good time in order to reach the mountain ryokan before nghtfall. The trail is 2.6km, but it leads up a mountain that is 1100m high, and after the initial enthusiasm of the chase the group is tiring. Carlos is noticeably less enthusiastic after they have travelled 0.7km, but then of course he is having to walk for two.
	The path becomes increasingly steep and just over half way up there is a resting area (small log seats) at which the companions pause and wait for Carlos to catch them up. They interrogate a Japanese hiker coming down the path, asking directions to the mountain ryokan and are informed that the way is blocked by very deep snow. It is difficult to understand what is being said, but it is gradually pieced together that reaching the mountain ryokan is not a realistic option. "Not to worry" Says Sam, "This has all been carefully planned". And in fact there is accomodation to be had near the Mitsumine shrine at the top of the trail, at least according to the Japanese hiker. According to Carlos' interpretation that is.
Sam is beginning to feel that perhaps his careful planning was not quite careful enough, but there was not much to argue against ascending to the shrine and seeking refuge there. The travellers could at least reach it before nightful. In the back of his mind, Sam begins to think dark thoughts about spending the night in the wilderness, and just how much his popularity would increase with his companions if this turned out to be the case; the deepening snow on the path doing little to lighten his mood. The rest of the trail is ascended with much breathless huffing and puffing. Eventually the travellers are rewarded with the beginnings of shrine monuments and breath-taking views that can now be seen as they break clear of the trees. The impressive visual effects are created by layer after layer of wooded slopes slinking discretely off into the horizon, each layer shaded more and more delicately as they fade into invisibility. The sight is reminiscient of illustrations in the book of "Monkey!" stories read by Sam as a child, oriental woodprints depicting mist covered mountains, seductively strangled by twisted trees.
	The sky is already considering the prospect of dusk and the notion of accomodation weighs heavily on the hearts of the travellers. For the moment they lose themselves in the extensive temple buildings that sprawl away from the end of the trail. Cautious to avoid any intrusion Carlos enters into conversation with some of the monks whom the group has observed inside many of the buildings. Soon a monk leads them round the corner to a five star hotel that the Japanese have thoughtfully built on top of the mountain, and shrugging to each other the adventurer's decide that a swift entrance is the best policy. Inside is a lavish foyer (and a gift shop) and a number of helpful hotel staff who are pleased to inform the travellers of the prices for nightly accomodation.
"Chotto takai" replies Carlos (a little expensive), and then the strangest part of the trip begins. In other countries this might have lead to a breakdown in communications, but here the travellers are given chocolate, in fact quite a lot of chocolate. Then the hotel staff phone another, cheaper, ryokan at the bottom of the mountain and book rooms for the gaijin. Then they offer the group a lift to the bottom of the mountain (down a conveniently placed road on the other side) in their minibus, which of course has six spare seats, just enough for the adventurers to squeeze themselves into. "This has all been carefully planned" Sam asserts brightly into the unblinking eye of Thierry's video camera "Oh yes, I had arranged that they should provide us with chocolate and transport to cheap accomodation". Don't you just love it when a plan comes together.
	And my, does this plan come together. The ryokan at the bottom of the mountain is very spacious, two large rooms to be shared between the six of them. Unperturbed by the stuffed grizzly bear that adorns the ryokan foyer, the weary travellers ease themselves into the large furo (hot communal steam bath) and allow their aches and pains to be eased away by the scented water. Then it is time to dress in the Japanese bathrobes and house jackets, before taking dinner. Despite the low cost of the ryokan, the adventurers are provided with a sumptuous banquet befitting the exertion of the day, and the many previous days planning that had gone into finding this particularly good-value accomodation (sarcasm).
The complex meal (which included making soup from scratch with a candle on the table - everyone had their own individual soup-making equipment) is devoured with relish, the group pausing only momentarily to demand large quantities of beer and sake. The consequences of the alcohol consumption were in evidence towards the end of the meal, as Sam demonstrated his special facial mobility for Thierry's video camera; who in turn demonstrated his legs behind the head ability, as well as his foot for phone gag (if this is confusing, just wait for the video, out in the shops soon, "Six get drunk in a ryokan, the contortionist mix"). God is clearly watching over his flock as the ryokan's karaoke machines are either not working or don't have songs in English, and everyone settles down to sleep thankful that everything had been organised so carefully to ensure such a hospitable evening.

Sunday 22nd

The barrel of Sunday morning is broached and the travellers are spilled out into the complex Japanese ritual breakfast, designed to make hungover gaijin regret any festivities they may have had the previous evening. Actually the rice, raw egg and soy combination turns out to be a mean solution for a sore head. Soon the sturdy adventurers are well underway having received a variety of directional instructions from the ryokan staff. The group have enough Japanese understanding between them to comprehend all that is said, but this information is not in the mind of any one individual. Thus the process of finding the nearest bus stop has to be a communal effort as the adventurers argue back and forth about what was and was not said by the ryokan people.
All are in no doubt that everything has been carefully planned, but at this particular point in time, no one actually knows where they are. Carlos is unruffled and encourages an exploration of the small village surrounding the ryokan. The steep slopes of the mountain climb up on either side, the morning mist making it look as if the trees are smoking, like a forest fire raging in slow motion. As Thierry explains, the wolves are making stew.
After vigorous finger pointing, kanji sign interpreting, strange coal-powered singing vehicle acticity (don't ask me, sometimes things are just weird for the hell of it), the bus stop is discovered, but there will be no buses for the next hour. The travellers set off to walk down the road following the bus route, which they have now calculated to lead back to Mitsumine station. The carefully constructed plan today had been modified to leave out the white water rafting (it's in the guidebook), and include the stalactite cavern in Hasidate.
After travelling a little way down the road, the group comes to the base of the cable car, where they were dropped by the bus on the previous day. The walk down the road has not been all that safe, traffic speeding along the winding road which has no pavement for the pedestrians. At Carlos' behest the troupe stops and waits for the bus here, entertaining themselves by seeing who can select the most disgusting canned coffee from the vending machines. The bus arrives on time, and gathering the gajin to its bosom, spirits them off to Mitsumine station, and the interior of a local noodle restaurant. The travellers occupy themselves with a range of different noodles before boarding a train to Hashidate. At Hasidate, famed for its stalactite cavern, there is very little to be seen. Despite the reassurances of the Lonely planet guidebook, which had contained some highly implausible statements about distance on the previous day, the Hashidate station area contains little to suggest it is s popular tourist spot.
	Sam receives adetailed description of how to find the caves from the station master, but he takes in little and the finger pointing that accompanies it is used to create a starting direction. Soon the travellers are encountering strange unstable bridges with signs that look uncomfortably like "Extreme danger, keep out" (although who would know it from the kanji), strange ominous graveyards, and strange eerie wooded paths. Basically it's all pretty strange, but even more strangely they actually find the stalactite cavern without too much difficulty (although inside there are not actually that much in the way of stalactites). The cave is more like a tunnel that winds up and down through a cliff face, and there are various pictures illustrating the cavemen that used to live here. Clearly oriental cavemen were even shorter than there modern-day counterparts as the taller of the group (Sam and Thierry) have to be dragged through the tiny cavern openings with a complex series of ropes and pulleys.
The caves are exited fairly quickly, and after the compulsory buying of cakes for co-workers back at Toshiba and the ritual green tea and snacks provided by the staff of Hashidate, the group reboard a train bound for Tokyo and civilisation. The train actually goes all the way back to Ikebukuro, suggesting that the complexities of the previous days travel could have been avoided. "No, no, all part of the plan" insists Sam, but by now the others are too tired to argue.
All of the characters and locations described in this diary are entirely ficticious and should bear no resemblance to real people or places. The names have been changed to protect the guilty. Look out for more interactive (okay, so you can get pop-up dialogs on the pictures; you want more interactivity, pay me) gaijin adventures soon as Sam finds the time to download the rest of the pictures form his camera.

Notes