Climbing the sacred mountain

Flick and I have been talking about climbing Hakusan (White Mountain) in Ishikawa for months and months. Every time we plan to go we find that we're either too busy or that the weather is just too bad. Finally though, we had our chance this week - after a quick check of the weather we found that Tuesday would be an ideal time to go - and probably our last chance before we leave Japan on the 27th. I took some time off work and set the alarm for 4.30am, ready for the long drive to the mountain.

Hakusan is one of the three holiest mountains in Japan, along with Tateyama (3,015m) in Toyama prefecture and Mount Fuji (3,776m), which of course means that thousands and thousands of people climb it every year. We were a little bit worried that we might face a re-run of the dreadful queuing that occurred towards the top of Mount Fuji - hundreds of people caught in a slow, cold, soul-destroying shuffle towards the summit. Luckily though, we encountered very few hikers on the way up - going on a weekday definitely has its advantages. Plus the official climbing season doesn't begin until this weekend, so I think that helped us to miss the big crowds.

I'm so, so glad we were able to climb Hakusan before we left Japan - the view from the top was easily worth the aches and pains the next day! If you get a chance to climb it you should definitely go... and if you're feeling a bit more adventurous, why not try scaling all 20 of the highest peaks in Japan - click here to see the list.

What am I going to do without all these mountains back in the UK? No more snowboarding, no more climbing... That's it, I'm moving to Switzerland.

I loved this bridge at the start of the trail - very Indiana Jones.

Unfortunately, this was the view of the river underneath the bridge - terrible isn't it? The entire stretch of river had been dammed and channelled into concrete waterfalls. It looked bloody awful.

We encountered our first large pockets of snow at about 1,800 metres. It was so strange to see snow on such a hot summer day (it was about 27 degrees C at the bottom of the mountain). By the way, check out my awesome new hat - it's going to see me round South America next month.

This was a bit scary, as you can see from the look on Flick's face. The path crossed this snow-covered gully, which dropped down for around 100 metres on the left side. One slip and...

At around 2,400 metres there was an eerie, mist-shrouded plateau, covered in undulating ice and snow. It looked a little bit like a haunted sea. Creepy.

We were really surprised to find this massive hotel complex just below the summit - not exactly what you'd expect to see 2,600 metres up in the air, especially since there was hardly any sign of life on the way up. It was a little dis-heartening to spend 4 hours struggling up a mountain only to discover a comfortable, heated hotel lounge with a restaurant and post office annex - kind of takes the adventure out of climbing, don't you think?

It was overcast all morning and afternoon, and we were really worried that we'd reach the top and not be able to see a thing. Amazingly though, just as we were nearing the summit all the clouds cleared away to reveal some stunning mountain views. Then, just after we began our descent the clouds came back again - we were so lucky to get shots like this.

Here's me looking wistful and manly at the summit. The view was fantastic - you could easily make out the coastline of Ishikawa, and you could even see rain falling on the Japan sea.

And of course, no mountain in Japan is complete without a shrine at the top, especially one as holy as Hakusan. Look closely and you can just about make out Flick flashing some peace our way.

Flick celebrates reaching the summit. Yay! We did it! Of course, it took another 4 hours to get down...

Outdoor living

I can't believe how quickly the time is passing - it's only seven more weeks until I leave Japan! It's all a bit nerve-wracking, since I haven't even finalised my travel plans yet, thanks to a certain irritatingly unhelpful internet travel agency (which shall remain nameless). Needless to say, Flick and I have been having panic attacks as we watch the prices for summer flights creep up and up, whilst our friendly travel agent "Brenda" (not her real name) continues to give us misleading quotes for incorrect itineraries, and simultaneously ignoring our questions about pricing and routes. I'm convinced that Brenda is actually some sort of evil robot created to thwart our travel plans by churning out erroneous email responses... Dammit Brenda, I swear you will rue the day you messed with a Packwood. Doesn't she know I've got a town named after me?

Anyway, as a consequence of the pressing time, everything I do in Japan now has a big question hanging over it: ie. "Will this be the last time I... [insert name of activity currently engaged in]." Only this morning I was pondering the very real possibility that I was recycling the foam trays from pizza boxes for the very last time. Even the constant weekly grind of sorting out household rubbish has taken on a hint of sorrow now that I know my days in Japan are numbered.

I had another WTBTLTI moment last weekend, when a group of Fukui JETs descended on the Watering Hole in Ono (see the June archives) for a spot of barbecuing and pyromania. The highlight was when the props and scenery for the recent FJET play were ceremoniously burned, as the producer and director looked on. With mixed emotions, I imagine, as they watched months of hard work go up in smoke. Great fire though.

It's so great to be able to drive for an hour and find yourself surrounded by mountains and lakes - I think I'm going to really miss that when I go home. It's funny, I always thought of myself as a city boy... I never thought I'd adapt to living in the countryside, but here I am going camping and climbing mountains every weekend. Actually, that's entirely untrue, I don't camp and climb mountains every weekend at all. In fact, this weekend I'm having a video games night followed by a visit to the local flea market, neither of which involve camping or mountains. However, I can see mountains through my window, just, so I may occasionally look up at them whilst playing Halo 2 on Friday. Which is close enough.

Will this be the last time I play 8 player Halo 2 in Japan?

Check out that conflagration! You know, it's amazing how well stage scenery will burn. It's certainly made me more aware of the constant danger from sudden prop combustion that actors and actresses bravely face on a day-to-day basis.

The party begins. At the front of the picture you can see the legendary Ono local "Long Peace" expertly cooking some mountain vegetables over an open fire. He actually picked them himself from the woods next to the campsite. Now THAT'S outdoor living.

Brandon gets some expert guitar tuition from Hudson and Mac. He's just mastered the "old lady" chord.

Campfire chats. I'm going to miss all this outdoor cosiness - back to the Big Smoke for me.

Dusty, Sarah and Jesse enjoy a moment. And yes, that big plastic bottle used to be full of whisky.

Madness in Ishikawa

Sorry for the long gap in-between posts - JETfuel has been taking up all my time, but finally I am free! The wheel of the good ship JETfuel has been passed on to the new editors, Jody and Dan - may the winds of journalism be kind under your captaincy.

Anyway, Ishikawa. During the Golden Week holidays a group of us set out on a 3 day camping trip to the Noto Hanto peninsula in Ishikawa - the sort of finger-like protrusion that sticks out from the mainland into the Sea of Japan. I didn't really know what to expect, having read absolutely nothing about it before, but I had a map with a couple of campsites marked on it so that was enough for me. Into the car we bundled, my poor little Daihatsu Mira straining under the weight of three passengers plus camping gear - in fact we bottomed out the suspension a couple of times. You've gotta love these little k-cars.

Seeing as I was the one who suggested the camping trip in the first place, I became the de-facto "leader", which was a bit of a joke since I had as little idea about where I was going as everyone else. On the plus side though, I had a map, so there was a definite advantage to my position. I carefully selected the Oshima campsite as our first port of call, chiefly because it was the nearest and I couldn't be bothered to carry on driving. Also, my car was falling apart, and Tim had eaten some ill-advised rubbery cheese sausages with egg embedded in them, which was causing him to let off the most tremendous trumps I've had the misfortune to smell.

Upon arrival we quickly evacuated the car (leaving the doors open so the fumes could dissipate) and set up the barbecue. The weather was amazing, the campsite was beautiful (a pine wood set behind some dunes) and the brief glimpse we had of the golden, sandy beach on the way in looked enticing. It was going to be a good holiday.

Once we'd eaten our fill of burgers, shrimp and unidentifiable meat (though in my case I stuck to the peppers and mushrooms, natch) everyone decided it would be a good idea to head off and explore the beach before the sun went down. Off we trooped towards the golden shoreline, only to discover... well, to be blunt, an ecological disaster.

The beach was covered, literally covered, in rubbish. Bottles, cans, shoes, computers, fridges - you name it, it was there. We couldn't believe it. It was by far the worst beach I had ever seen. Ever. I was thinking "Well, perhaps they haven't got round to clearing up yet after the winter", but then that can't be an excuse - it was May after all, not to mention the busiest holiday season of the entire year in Japan. Plus there was far, far too much rubbish - it looked like this stuff had been piling up for years. Some of it had obviously drifted across the sea from Korea, judging by the Korean writing on some of the cans and bottles, but most of it was obviously Japanese, and some of the items were too big to have just been washed up - they must have been dumped. Like this computer... 

 I think seeing a beach in such a state is all the more shocking when you consider just how clean the rest of Japan is - the cities bask in spotless pavements (despite the bizarre lack of litter bins) and most people are obsessive to the point of being anal about separating and disposing of their rubbish. So what happened at Oshima?

It was a bit like wandering into Japan's bedroom while it was at school and discovering "Asian Babes do Anal" hidden underneath its mattress. I mean, it can bang on about how it's "not normally like this" and "someone else must have put it there" all it wants, but it means nothing as you wave the incriminating evidence in its face.

So much for all the spiel on the Ishikawa prefectural website about "Coexistence of People and Nature". Apparently the "Preservation of our rich natural environment and protection of wild flora and fauna" is one of their primary goals. My arse it is. They really need to work on number 3 first: "Improvement of prefectural citizen's morals regarding the environment". 

Actually, speaking of nature preservation, there was a curious sign at the end of the beach, with a picture of two flies on it. I took a photo of it, and later had it translated into English - you won't believe what it says. The beach is a nature preserve. Yep, that's right, apparently the beach is home to a very rare species of sand fly, and there's a 50,000 yen fine for anyone who disturbs the flies, and a possible jail sentence for anyone caught removing them from the beach. Although it seems that leaving bottles, cans and shoes for them to play in is perfectly OK. 

As I said, madness. You can read an excellent account of the rest of the trip at Colin's blog - trust me, there was more madness to come.

Colin ponders the horror of it all as he perches atop what could either be a buoy or some sort of abandoned space hopper. Though, having thought about it, it's mostly likely to be the former. I don't know what I was thinking when I wrote it was a space hopper. Stupid, stupid Lewis, go to your room!

It's a fridge! Woooooh!

Ahoy there! We were delighted to find an entire boat amid the flotsam and jetsam, and we eagerly clambered in for a photo opportunity. Then we quickly clambered out again when we realised it was full of broken glass and syringes.

Here's the wildlife protection area sign - you can just about see a picture of two sand flies mating in the top left corner. Lovely. I have a question though: are they sure they're SAND flies, and not just the usual kind of flies you find round a rubbish tip?

The Fearsome Five trudge back down the beach, looking like a band of ecological freedom fighters on a mission. Anyone remember Captain Planet and the Planeteers? Rubbish wasn't it? Captain Planet had an AWESOME mullet though.

Still, at least the sunset was pretty. As I was taking this photo I accidentally trod on a sand fly. No, only joking, it was a used condom.

Cherry blossom time

It's that time of year again - cherry blossom fever has gripped the nation.

It's actually been a little disappointing this year: the blossoms are fantastic as usual, but the weather in Fukui has been absolutely appalling for the past couple of weeks. We've had nothing but miserable grey, dreary weather - so much of it in fact that I thought I was back in England for a while. I tried to do a bit of "hanami" (cherry blossom viewing) in Maruoka with Flick over the weekend, but it was so cold and wet that we ended up doing most of our viewing from the warmth of the car.

Today though, we've finally got some good weather, so I took the opportunity to sneak out of school and take a few snaps in the afternoon. I love this time of year: the blossoms look amazing and the temperature's perfect (when the sun's shining that is). The idea of a whole cultural phenomenon based around going outside and looking at flowers is just brilliant - you certainly wouldn't get that back home.

Of course, this time of year also brings that dreaded, and oft-repeated question:

"Do you have cherry blossoms where you come from?"

"Yes", I patiently reply, and wait to see the astonished reaction from the questioner, as if the idea that there are cherry trees anywhere other than Japan is the most explosive thing that he/she has ever heard.

Really though, we don't have cherry trees in the UK. I mean, we have cherry trees, but we don't have anything like the selectively-bred and carefully-planted bloom monsters they have in Japan. A road called "Cherry Tree Avenue" in the UK would be lucky to have even one cherry tree, but in Fukui City "Sakura-Dori" has literally hundreds of the things.

Sadly though, the blossoms won't be around for much longer- they've already begun to fall, and by the weekend most of them will be gone. It feels like the viewing season is ending before it's even begun... Damn that rain! 

Cherry blossom, this afternoon.

The walk to my school looks fantastic at the moment - the whole road is lined with cherry trees in full bloom.

Here's some cherry blossom at the front of the school: You can see Asahi town in the distance.

The shrine behind my house - there was some sort of ceremony going on today at about 3pm, but I have no idea what it was all about. Does anyone know if there's anything special about today?

Here's the entrance to the shrine. On the left hand side you can see the lanterns which go up at this time of year, to allow the blossom viewing to go on late into the night...