Goodbye

Unfortunately we don’t think this will be a short goodbye. Out of all of the goodbyes we had to make in the last week of our adventure we were both dreading this one the most. 

For only a short while we have been acquainted, but for years we have known about you, known about your wisdom, beauty and kindness. But for all our admiration of you, we have only spent a short time together, and now like a plaster we must say goodbye.

Man, have we done some crazy stuff together. Dancing together under the stars to Kodo on Sado Island, singing under umbrellas in Hiroshima and who can forget the countless days riding on the snow, watching each other do crazier and crazier things. However memorable these moments were it is not this side of our friendship we will miss the most.

As soon as we got off the plane you welcomed us with arms wide open. You didn’t see us for who we were, but you saw us for who we are and who we can be. You didn’t see the world in black and grey, your view was a kaleidoscope of new colours. We came to you in your time of need, when others were leaving you. We saw that what you needed the most was friendship. Only friendship: not probing enquiry into the danger that others saw in you. We selfishly think that in some small way we helped you through your time of need, and our support for you will never fade even though the distance between us grows.

But, for every moment we helped you, you helped us back tenfold. You saw us at our worst, when desperate thoughts of loneliness and desperation filled our minds; it was you who helped us think clearly. It was you who showed us the true meaning of life. Through our friendship over the year you showed us that our potential, love and sense of joy are limitless. Every day we were together you taught us a new lesson, some were big and others were small and insignificant on face value. Our friendship stood the test of time.

So Japan, we are proud to call you by name, we are proud to call you home and were even prouder that we can call you one of life’s dear friends. This is not goodbye, but a quick ‘see ya later’. In the future our paths will cross again, we’re sure, and when they do we know our friendship will pick up where we left it.

Thank you Japan, your friendship will always be a treasured memory for us.

ありがとう日本

Aimee and Craig.

Kampai.

Over the last year we have had the absolute pleasure of sharing Kampai with a lot of different people. Here are a few pictures of these awesome people.

Cheers guys!!

Mt Fuji: It was the worst of times, it was the best of times.

After the epic weekend we have just had, a small blog entry does not seem to do it justice. Mt Fuji was a place on our Japan wish list, with climbing Mt Fuji the ultimate goal. Nobody could foresee the spectrum of emotions we would encounter over 48 hours. So I’ll just start at the beginning.

It was the worst of times:

We decided to join the pilgrimage, that so many Japanese do, to the summit of Fuji to catch the rising sun, a symbol of the Japanese resilience and fortitude. We started our 27 hour journey on the Saturday morning, driving across the country to Mt Fuji. After a small stop sightseeing around the Fuji lakes district we organised our equipment ready for the midnight assault of Fuji san. We started walking at 9.45pm. The plan was to climb continuously through the night reaching the summit for sunrise at 4.20am. The climb was tough but we made steady time. Feeling little affects of the altitude we pressed on to the 8th station. With two and a half hours until sunrise we thought we had timed it perfectly. Unfortunately, 20,000 other climbers all had the same thought. At the 8th station we came to a complete stand still. As two tracks converged to one so did the crowds. With the amount of people and rapidly deteriorating weather our steady pace slowed. What was meant to take 30mins to the next station took over an hour and a half. As the pace slowed the more we felt the cold and after a further hour waiting in line we could take the cold no more. We made the heart breaking decision to turn back, only 200 metres from the summit. We were wet, tired and cold and had a demoralising 4 hour walk down to the fifth station, a walk that seemed to take forever. Dejected we made it down to the bottom, with a horrid feeling of achieving nothing more than wasting 27 hours of our lives that we would never get back. Aimee and I both swore off mountain climbing for the rest of our lives from that point! Oh the irony that would follow.

After we had rested I couldn’t help feel that we had been ripped off, that a goal that we had set ourselves would forever be unachieved. The more I tried to convince myself that it was out of our hands the more I became frustrated. For 300m to get in the way of glory is a hard fact to swallow.

It was the best of times:

We awoke on the Monday morning, physically feeling better, mentally still gutted that we had come so close. We ventured out for breakfast at a local café at the base of Mt Fuji. The weather was clear and we had a perfect view of Mt Fuji, stoically standing there almost taunting us. What started as an offhand comment to try climbing it again turned into a quickly eaten breakfast and a hasty trip to the konbini to stock up on supplies. At 12pm we boarded the bus back to the fifth station to attempt it again. As we stood at the bottom looking up to the summit, we knew that it was mind over matter. Physically this would be no problem, but to erase the thoughts of failure and replace them with affirmations of positivity would be the challenge. Exactly 36 hours after turning back so close, we stood on top of Japan, 3776m high. Feeling that not only had we beaten this mountain that had so cruelly robbed and mocked us, but we had beaten our own self doubt. We had climbed this mountain not just once but twice now, in the same weekend. After spending a short time at the summit meeting new people we started our trek back down. This decent was not like the first, with the sense of accomplishment and adrenaline in our bodies, replacing the feeling of exhaustion. We bounded down the mountain with purpose. So strong was our conviction to complete this goal, we turned a 10 hour hike into a sub six hour journey, to the point where we ran the last 2 km to get under six hours.

As the old adage goes, "pain is temporary, glory is forever!" and by the end we were definitely in pain.

This year in Japan has always been about a deeper meaning. Hidden in the challenges and successes has been a sense of personal growth. Mt Fuji was definitely no exception to this. We both have always been goal driven people and this was the biggest test so far.

Mt Fuji will continue to be an iconic symbol in Japanese culture, and now it will be an iconic symbol in both of our lives. A symbol of strength that will continue to provide motivation long after we have left the shores of Japan.

Mt Fuji: it was the worst of times, it was the best of times.

Enjoy.

Saturday night at 9.45pm: leaving the 5th station. We had no idea of what was to come.

 With the sun rising in the background we had to make a tough decision to turn back.

Take two! Mt Fuji in the background waiting to be conquered. 

We were here 36 hours ago, in completely different weather conditions

 At the summit on our second attempt. Took 3.50 to climb.

Takamasa, a firefighter from Kanagawa we met while walking. He runs this six times every season.

Seeing the world feet first: Mt Fuji

Lambie-kins our faithful travel partner. Along with out Mt Fuji walking stick, with stamps from each hut.

While waiting for the bus home we saw an awesome sunset from the 5th station on the Yoshida side.