The thing that makes an impression on me is the status of Fuji as a cultural icon and a touchstone of Japanese nationalism. In America, we have many landmarks, natural and man-made. There are so many that none stands as a singular symbol for an entire nation. But if you ask a Japanese person to name the symbol of their country, they will invariably tell you it's Mount Fuji.
In order to get down to Hakone, Rieko and I rode the Shinkansen from Tokyo Station. Speaking of national icons, the Shinkansen is another standout. It was the world's first "bullet train," traveling at unheard-of speeds on rails. You'll see a picture below of the wind tunnel-approved front ends these trains wear. This wasn't one of the fastest Shinkansen rides, due mostly to the fact that we were riding a local train and only had one long stretch that wasn't in close to a city. As we traveled to Hakone, I would estimate we topped out at about 150 miles per hour. And the ride was like nothing you'll experience on Amtrak or Conrail or Accela or whatever the northeast corridor train calls itself these days. The trip was dead quiet and silky smooth.
We rode 30 minutes south to Odawara Station and changed to a local train to get to Hakone, then took a bus up to our first stopping point. When we stepped off the bus, we walked maybe 100 yards to the original Tokaido Road. (Not a reconstruction - the real thing!) I didn't even realize it until I asked Rieko to start reading some of the signs around the beginning. It's not a wide path, no more than 12 feet. And the "paving" is less than rudimentary - just smooth round rocks halfway into the ground. It's hard to imagine people carrying heavy loads over this kind of paving, up and down some pretty steep stretches. Rieko said we would hike this road for seven kilometers (a little over 4 miles) to Lake Ashi. I told her we would be lucky to make 700 meters on this kind of road. And I was right - after about 300 meters, at probably between a 10 and 15 percent grade, we were both huffing and puffing and looking at each other, waiting for someone to cry "uncle." I didn't hesitate - I said, "Good - we only have about 6,700 meters to go. Are you sure you want to try this?" We turned around and climbed back down to where we had started. But I treasure the experience - I was able to walk in the footsteps of the powerful and powerless, on the most famous road of old Japan.
I know I've gone into this elsewhere, but I can't find it immediately. So indulge me while I teach you a little Japanese history:
While it's more than likely that this route from the Imperial capital of Kyoto to the Shogun's seat of power in Edo was long-established, it was during the reign of the first few Tokugawa Shoguns (early 1600s) that the Tokaido Road and its system of "stations" and checkpoints was established. Because the Tokaido was a much better road and offered amenities other roads didn't, most long-distance travel was consolidated. (Much like the Interstate highways in America lessened the importance of roads like Route 1 and Route 66.) This improved the Shogun's control over the country - if everything moves over fewer roads, it's all easier to watch.
An additional benefit was the establishment of the "stations" of the Tokaido. The original inns and taverns, which relied solely on the "tourist trade," grew up into full-fledged towns with self-sustaining economies. Toward the end of the Edo era, when the first railroads were established and carrying a rising number of passengers, the Tokaido and the other major roads out of Edo became less significant. But many of the station towns are still there and thriving, as is the case with Hakone.
In many respects, Hakone is still very much like the station town that existed in the Edo era. From what I could see, its economy is based on the tourist trade. Many people come here for the history and for access to Lake Ashi, a big, beautiful lake in the mountains. There are shops and restaurants everywhere, and people come in by the busload. But surprisingly few take notice of the remnant of the old Tokaido. While Rieko and I were walking it, we didn't see another soul.
After we came back down from the Tokaido, Rieko and I caught the bus to take us to the spot where we would have come out days later if we'd stuck to hiking. This was the center of tourism at Lake Ashi, complete with big tourist boats (one looks like a Mississippi paddlewheeler, another is modeled after a pirate ship - in a Japanese mountain lake). We stopped for lunch at a nice little restaurant where we had soba - noodles made from buckwheat flour. They're served hot or cold, depending on the dish. We had it cold, in a cold soup of broth and onions. You lift a few noodles with your chopsticks, dip them into the soup, and eat. Very tasty, and not too heavy a meal. I joked with Rieko that I'd been given the "gaijin special." Most of my noodles were stuck together, and some were a foot and a half long. Perfect for making a relatively adept foreigner look like a beginner using chopsticks.
After lunch, we walked to the Hakone Checkpoint Museum, which recreates the original Tokaido road checkpoint that existed in the same spot. You'll see the picture of the gate below, but not much else - photography in the museum is prohibited. The reconstructed buildings are striking - all cedar and cypress, big heavy timbers and well-planed planks. The cedar is all local - everywhere walk in this area, there are 150 foot tall cedars that look very healthy. In the museum, there were lots of artifacts from the Edo era. They had a couple suits of samurai armor, samples of the gold and silver currency of that era, a wooden sign (c. 1710) that served as a tax rate schedule, and something I found very interesting - the handwritten checkpoint log, which noted the identities of those who passed through and what they paid on the taxable items they were carrying. The longhand Kanji wasn't an artist's calligraphy, but it was still clearly done with a brush. I thought it was beautiful.
After the museum, Rieko and I rode the bus back to Odawara and got the Shinkansen to Shinagawa JR (Japan Rail) station, then took the JR Yamanote line, which circles central Tokyo, to the Shinjuku area. This is the busiest area in all of Tokyo. It's the home of the Tokyo Metropolitan Government offices (City Hall), Meiji Jingu shrine, tons of businesses, and Kabuki-cho. Kabuki-cho isn't so much a red-light district as an entertainment district. But some of the side streets... I dunno, even in a city as safe as Tokyo, I didn't want to get close.
We went to the observation deck on the 45th floor of the Government building, aboard the world's fastest elevator - 45 floors in 55 seconds. Didn't even feel the speed. It was too hazy a day to see more than maybe ten miles, but everywhere we looked, we were surrounded by Tokyo. This is one big city. When we came back down, we did some walking around and found a good Japanese pub for dinner. Yakitori, sushi, and Japanese pizza, which is a very very thin crust with a little bit of meat and some vegetables stuck to it. Not bad, but they might want to come up with a name other than "pizza." Rieko had never eaten pizza before (!), so I showed her the standard New York method - fold the slice in half lengthwise, support with your other hand, tilt your head and bite. Her unfamiliarity with pizza isn't so surprising. I haven't seen a single American-style pizza place, though I hear Pizza Hut does exist over here. And they'll deliver you a medium-size pie for $30.
It was after 8:00 when we finished dinner, so we called it a night. I'll be on my own tomorrow, with planned stops at the Ota Memorial Ukiyo-e Museum and Meiji Jingu Shrine. Rieko and I will meet at 6:00 PM back at my hotel, to see the cherry blossoms all lit up at Ueno Park and to have some dinner.
Enjoy the pictures!
