The Motherload

My last week in Japan is quickly approaching its end. While my bags and personal affects have yet to be packed, my mind is already in Central Park, enjoying a sandwich and savoring the sounds of tactless English; I haven't heard "fuck" in two months. That's just a damn fucking shame.

Though I've thoroughly enjoyed watching and participating in many different surgeries, 8 weeks was a long time to set aside for this program. 8 weeks was an even longer time not to have had a crystal clear conversation with anyone (save for the occasional political discussion and gossip with my Libertarian counterpart). I have cashed in my coinage (which totaled an unbelievable $150), budgeted out my remaining food and travel expenses, and have started to calculate with Tetris-like efficiency how I will fit all my souvenirs in my suitcase.

All that remains are my pictures - and here they are:

Mt. Fuji

Fuji was an incredible climb; over five hours of painstakingly slow stepping through marked yet treacherous rocky terrain, with winds that every now and again throw you back a step or two. Of course, it's easy to spin a grisly tail since the only other mountain I've climbed was Space Mountain at Disneyworld - also a five hour trek, unless you are in the company of a someone in a wheelchair - but truth be told there were young and elderly climbers as well. I didn't see many of them at the summit, however, so maybe they wussed out along the way. Note: in the first picture my attempted look of determination is totally betrayed by the geeky headlamp and nervous double-chin.


One of the station houses where climbers can rest their feet for a hefty fee. I paid almost $10 to take a 1 hour nap, and another $4 for the dinkiest cup of coffee I've ever had the displeasure of drinking.

Light pollution is the coolest looking pollution by far.

The final stretch was a zig-zag test of mettle. It really makes you savor the summit that much more.



The sunrise was pretty amazing, as you can see. I think I made some enemies plowing through a stagnant line of snail-paced trekkers, but I wasn't about to be late to the top. It was well worth it.



The station house at the summit was crowded as hell, and the body heat made for a nice and cozy atmosphere. I wore a t-shirt, a light jacket, and jeans, so I was definitely feeling the cold and wind up top.



Views of the impressive cloudscape.

The giant crater at Fuji's head, where molten earth will one day lay waste to Tokyo - but hopefully not for a long long time, and at least not until I leave on Sunday (knock on wood).




The climb down started off being a lot of fun, sliding down a well worn red and black pumice path at a quick clip. But unlike the ascent, which was dotted with station houses and rest areas, the trip down became very monotonous. The view, however, was outstanding.


I don't think I ever have or will ever again pay so much for a big wooden dowel. Satisfied at having imbued it with true walking stick character, I passed it on to a group of three Chinese guys waiting to make the morning climb.


The Kawaguchiko 5th station, where I arrived at 10pm the night before. From the 5th station to the summit, it's a 4,833ft. change in altitude; 16 football fields up. My water bottles were visibly crushed by the pressure change when I got to the bottom.

Climbing Fuji was definitely the most memorable thing I did while I was in Japan.

Hakone

Hakone is supposedly one of the best spots to see Fuji, and one of the more popular vacation spots for Japanese. Exhausted from the climb, and from the triple-transfer bus ride I had to make to get to my traditional style hotel, I immediately headed for the natural hot spring donning my yukata. Extreme relaxation did follow.

The next day I went to an open air sculpture museum. As you can tell the weather was being very uncooperative. Still, it was an enjoyable stroll.







One in particular made the trip to the museum worthwhile, if only for the suggestive title:

And indeed it was...

...a girl with a cock.

After the museum, I took an interesting train ride up the side of a small mountain to a cable car station.


The view went from decent...

...to absent


Defeated, I nibbled on some black eggs cooked in hot spring water. The fumes from the springs are billed as being toxic, but they afforded the eggs a nice flavor. Total boiled eggs consumed in Japan to date: 125+.

The final crushing blow came when, down from the viewless cable car ride, the lake cruise which I had been much anticipating was not running. Embittered, I ate another egg and headed towards the train station, debating if "Girl with Cock" was deliberately named so. It was the 60's and shrooms were legal in Japan, so probably.

Osaka

Osaka is an interesting city, one which I think suffers from an identity crisis. Not nearly as cultural as nearby Kyoto, nor as glamorous as Tokyo, Osaka is kind of a patchwork city; old stuff here, new stuff there, ugly stuff everywhere. I asked a Japanese friend what I should definitely see in Osaka - when asked the same question about Tokyo and Kyoto much contemplation and prioritizing ensued; but only two things were on the Osaka list, rattled off with no discernable hesitation: Osaka Castle and Dotonbori. I squeezed out an additional destination or two from my guidebook, but I have a feeling a lot of it was fluff. Anyway, this should save you a trip out there if you are planning on it:

The escalator of doom in the questionably designed and unambiguously named Sky Building


As my sister has dubbed them, the Brokeback Sumo Wrestlers, grappling each other in a ceramics museum; passable guidebook fluff.

Osaka castle, which has been converted into a museum, with a pretty cool hologram diorama display inside.



Various architectural triumphs and debacles around the city:



Note: the surest way to feel like a total loser is to ride "The World's Largest Giant Ferris Wheel" in the early afternoon, by yourself, thinking about what the world's smallest giant ferris wheel might look like. Unforgivable guidebook fluff.


This is Amerika Mura, an area in south Osaka where cool guys and girls indulge in skewed American culture.

Unlike the ferris wheel, Dotonbori is one place that is actually worth checking out in Osaka. A crazy, youthful shopping arcade with plenty of cheap eats, video game parlors, and no shortage of back alley massage and strip joints.


Epileptics be warned: this is not a you-friendly place.

After dinner and coffee, I headed back to the train station with waning trust in the Lonely Planet guidebook staff. The Tokyo edition has been clutch, but the Japan edition is no where near as solid.

Kyoto

Kyoto is an awesome city to spend time in, for both residents and visitors. The food is great, there are tons and tons of places to shop, and, not least of all; it is the cultural heart of Japan. I happen to be visiting during Gion Matsuri, one of the three main Japanese festivals celebrating the end of an epidemic plague. I'll spare you descriptions of temples since, as you will see, they all kind of look the same. If you're curious to know what religion is practiced within, just go there and open your ears - if you hear clapping, it's Shinto; otherwise some form of Buddhism is a safe bet.

Kinkaku-ji, The Golden Pavilion


The tea ceremony was very serene, though I wouldn't recommend it for the inflexible.

Ginkaku-ji, The Silver Pavilion


Yasaka Shrine and Gion Matsuri







Nanzen-ji, Southern Mountain Temple







Choin-in Temple






Fushimi-Inari Taisha








Whew. Temple/shrine overload.

Obviously Fushimi-Inari Taisha was the real inspiration for The Gates at Central Park. There were literally tens of thousands of these torii outlining a 2km path up a mountain, with shrines all along the way. The stone foxes have some spiritual significance, and they apparently enter underneath your fingernails. On the way down I decided to take an alternate path and, amazingly, got lost. I'm not sure how, but all of a sudden there were no more gates; only forest.

After wandering in a general downward direction, I emerged in a small town 30 minutes away from the shrine. A petit and helpful old woman walked me to the train station another 15 minutes away, and I was back on track.

Back in downtown Kyoto, there is an uber-cool roofed shopping arcade called the Nishiki Market, where all sorts of Kyoto specialty food items are sold. There was a branch shop for a famous knife maker named Aritsugu, once a samurai-smith back in the days of slicing and dicing your enemies, where I caved and splurged on a few pieces of freshly sharpened cutlery.



The last place I visited during my 3 days in Kyoto was a small strip called Pontocho, a traditional nightlife district consisting of geisha and the like, which still looks as it must have generations ago. Minus the neon signs.


The streets are narrow, the restaurants and bars crowded, and the ambience is like something straight out of a movie. I polished off my meal with an ice cream tempura, then headed back.

Now that my week off is over and I'm back in the hospital doing my time in plastic surgery, I must admit I'm all Japan-ed out. Only one thing remains: I have to give a lecture at the end of the week, for which they allotted an entire hour - the catch, to an otherwise entirely freebie stipend. My plan is to talk at length about food, how fat Americans are, and how fat Japanese are getting. Hopefully that, in addition to sparse ego-coddling and razzle-dazzle statistics, will mask the stench of an all-nighter PowerPoint.