So, anyway...
Yeah, after we came down Fuji we quickly changed into dry clothing and grabbed the first bus down the mountain...to the Fuji View Hotel. If you saw the pictures, you saw the crazy lush grounds it sits on. That was nice. :)
Even better? No actual view of Fuji...though I did give it the two-fingered salute anyway.
We slept for a couple hours on our futon (It was a ryokan, so the room was all tatami mats...the maid came by later to set out the futon for us and saw that I did it. I asked if it was correct and she said, sure.), then went to dinner at the all-too-swanky restaurant downstairs.
Following that, it was time for the leg massage! Our massage guy had also just climbed Fuji the day before (note: DAY), but was still pretty chipper. He also turned out to be Chinese, as I was shocked to find out when he tried to say Michael Jackson and it came out in a Chinese accent amidst his Japanese. Then he mentioned Shanghai and I caught on.
Legs all man-handled, we hit the onsen and jacuzzi bath house...and suddenly I could feel nothing. No more pain. My legs worked. Hallelujah! We collapsed back in our room without even taking off our yukata.
____________________________
Oh, but I forgot the story of our things...remember that all of our clothing was soaked through? Well, we asked for laundry service and they showed us where their staff uses the washing machine. They would let us use it. Hmmm, okay.
Except...I forgot about the advanced nature of Japanese washing machine/dryers. And by advanced, I mean the opposite. The washer doesn't so much wash as swish water around (there is no agitator)...and the dryer doesn't, well, dry. We had clothes in there for hours and by the end they were really hot...and really damp. Our friend Dave thinks clothes actually get wetter in those things somehow. It's truly amazing. I had one in Toride and I would leave it going for about three hours to get anything remotely dry. It's truly mind-boggling...but answers why the Japanese hang their clothes out to dry everywhere.
Finally, there was the water damage to everything else. Many of my papers and other items in my bag were soaked (and anything that enters the bag even today becomes moist in minutes). But the worst damage of all? I left my rail pass in my back pocket of my thoroughly soaked pants the entire climb. Wanna see what it looks like?
Pretty bad, huh? I was freaking out. Even calling Dave to print out a copy I thought I had online (nope). Then fate interceded. As I tried to get on the Shinkansen, they required a ticket. SO I pulled out the pass and...they let me through. And then out on the other side. And I have now used it a dozen times in that shitty condition. It's farcical, I tells ya.
Tomorrow, we'll tell ya all about the Hiroshima Peace Memorial and Osaka. We're late for Dave's party...
Even better? No actual view of Fuji...though I did give it the two-fingered salute anyway.
We slept for a couple hours on our futon (It was a ryokan, so the room was all tatami mats...the maid came by later to set out the futon for us and saw that I did it. I asked if it was correct and she said, sure.), then went to dinner at the all-too-swanky restaurant downstairs.
Following that, it was time for the leg massage! Our massage guy had also just climbed Fuji the day before (note: DAY), but was still pretty chipper. He also turned out to be Chinese, as I was shocked to find out when he tried to say Michael Jackson and it came out in a Chinese accent amidst his Japanese. Then he mentioned Shanghai and I caught on.
Legs all man-handled, we hit the onsen and jacuzzi bath house...and suddenly I could feel nothing. No more pain. My legs worked. Hallelujah! We collapsed back in our room without even taking off our yukata.
____________________________
Oh, but I forgot the story of our things...remember that all of our clothing was soaked through? Well, we asked for laundry service and they showed us where their staff uses the washing machine. They would let us use it. Hmmm, okay.
Except...I forgot about the advanced nature of Japanese washing machine/dryers. And by advanced, I mean the opposite. The washer doesn't so much wash as swish water around (there is no agitator)...and the dryer doesn't, well, dry. We had clothes in there for hours and by the end they were really hot...and really damp. Our friend Dave thinks clothes actually get wetter in those things somehow. It's truly amazing. I had one in Toride and I would leave it going for about three hours to get anything remotely dry. It's truly mind-boggling...but answers why the Japanese hang their clothes out to dry everywhere.
Finally, there was the water damage to everything else. Many of my papers and other items in my bag were soaked (and anything that enters the bag even today becomes moist in minutes). But the worst damage of all? I left my rail pass in my back pocket of my thoroughly soaked pants the entire climb. Wanna see what it looks like?
Pretty bad, huh? I was freaking out. Even calling Dave to print out a copy I thought I had online (nope). Then fate interceded. As I tried to get on the Shinkansen, they required a ticket. SO I pulled out the pass and...they let me through. And then out on the other side. And I have now used it a dozen times in that shitty condition. It's farcical, I tells ya.
Tomorrow, we'll tell ya all about the Hiroshima Peace Memorial and Osaka. We're late for Dave's party...