Day Six – Mount Fuji and the Weight of Wonder

 Mount Fuji and the Weight of Wonder

We awoke after a really good night’s sleep, knowing today was special. The long‑awaited trip to Mount Fuji — something we’d been planning ever since arranging our return to Japan — had finally arrived.

Breakfast was at 8am. I started with three pieces of sushi, which were absolutely delicious, before moving on to a western-style plate of bacon, sausage, scrambled egg, and tomato, all washed down with fresh orange juice and a proper coffee. I couldn’t help but smile remembering my first encounter with one of Japan’s coffee machines and having to ask how it worked — essentially a very efficient flask. Craig opted for sushi and a few pastries. I failed once again to convince him to try the breakfast cakes and crème brûlée… maybe tomorrow.

We walked to Shinjuku Station’s east entrance and asked at the ticket office about the Mount Fuji route. The staff member was incredibly helpful, explaining that the direct express train to Kawaguchiko was fully booked. Instead, we would travel to Otsuki and transfer onto the Fujikyu Line, making the total journey around two and a half hours. The transfer was simple, and on the final train a kind Japanese gentleman told us it was actually a lucky route — we’d get a photo opportunity the moment we stepped off the train.

I felt a real sense of excitement building. Mount Fuji has a presence even before you see it. Beneath its calm symmetry lies immense pressure — pressure that can create beauty, like diamonds, or unleash devastation when it becomes too much. The landscape leading toward Fuji is living proof of the forces held beneath our feet.

As the train rolled through rural Japan, stopping at small stations, the pace slowed noticeably. This felt closer to Niigata — quieter, more open, and deeply peaceful. The skies were bright blue, the sunshine warm, and then suddenly… our first glimpse of Mount Fuji appeared from the train.

We arrived at Kawaguchiko and were guided toward Lake Kawaguchi by the same gentleman we’d spoken with earlier — the second time our paths had crossed, though not the last. The walk to the lakeside was around 800 metres, calm and unhurried.

We met him and his wife again by the lake, and he suggested taking the cable car to a viewing point for Mount Fuji, with the added bonus of Japanese food at the top. They kindly escorted us to the ticket station and advised us to buy the cable car and boat tickets separately, as it worked out cheaper.

The cable car felt like Craig’s quiet revenge. I’ve always said I wouldn’t go on one — though I suppose convincing him to dress as a samurai earlier in the week pushed him well outside his comfort zone too. I don’t think I showed any fear as we boarded… at least I hope not.

The ride up was fantastic. The views were incredible, photo opportunities endless, and we even captured a video for my TikTok account, Koi Crazy Chris. The food at the top was excellent, and the whole experience felt calm, elevated, and unforgettable.

After descending by cable car, we headed back for the boat trip on the lake. By this point, we’d lost our unofficial guide but made it down safely and bought our tickets. To our surprise, the gentleman and his wife boarded the same boat, and we exchanged greetings once again.

The boat trip was short but excellent. We noticed fishing pontoons set out on the lake, catching bass — something mentally logged for a future visit. The images we captured here were probably the best of the entire day.

Eventually, it was time to return to the station and head back to Shinjuku, travelling the same route due to the express train still being fully booked. Train travel in Japan is easy, comfortable, and stress-free when seated — even after a full day.

Today was about making memories. The journey was absolutely worth it to witness Mount Fuji in person. Once you leave Japan’s heavily populated areas, the country feels rugged and untamed — almost as though a natural disaster could strike at any moment. That sense of power and fragility makes you grateful to be alive and able to witness such beauty.

Tomorrow is our final day in Tokyo. After that, we head to Niigata — the birthplace of Japanese Nishikigoi… or, as we simply call them, koi.