The lodge at Owakudani which houses the Hakone Ropeway Station, an eatery, a mini exhibition area and a gift shop.
IT is a bit ironic to be told the best time to go see Mount Fuji is during Autumn, considering the drop in temperature plus the wind chill factor might be a turn-off for some.
However, having seen for myself the sights around Hakone — a hotspring region in Kanagawa Prefecture, about 90km west of Tokyo — the surrounding beauty more than compensates the nippy air.
I was a part of a 20-member group joining the Japan trip, organised by UD Trucks and Tan Chong Industrial Equipment Sdn Bhd (TCIE), where the excursion to Hakone was one of the items on the itinerary.
We gathered at the lobby of our hotel in Shinjuku minutes after sunrise before boarding the shuttle bus that would later take us on a two-hour journey.
For the record, it was a Monday.
“We may encounter some heavy traffic later on but it would ease down once we reach the highway. I reckon we would reach Hakone in under two hours — it’s the start of the working week and thus, there’ll be fewer visitors than at the weekends.
“If we made this trip a couple of days ago, the journey would have been twice as long,” said our tour guide Sachiko Ueda.
A tourist having a picture of him taken in front of a giant replica of the Kuro-Tamago.
Rich Autumn colours
I soaked up the sight of the trees lining the road leading to Hakone — the rich tones of brown, gold, red, orange and yellow of the leaves were as postcard-perfect as they could be.
“The best times to visit Japan are during Spring and Autumn — they’re the most colourful seasons,” Sachiko said.
As the bus approached the Subaru Line — the road that gave the famous car brand its name — I could see the clear outline of Fuji-san, one of Japan’s most iconic landmarks.
The 3,776m natural wonder was made a Unesco World Heritage Site following the agreement by the 21-member panel of the UN Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organisation during its 37th session in Phnom Penh, Cambodia on June 22, 2013.
The weather could not have been more perfect, the clear blue sky accentuating the conical shape of Mount Fuji, usually depicted in many artworks as snow-capped.
However, there was no snow when we were there. The mountain, while still beautiful, was “naked” that day.
Sea of Trees
About half-hour before arriving at Mount Fuji’s Fifth Station — the highest point reachable by any vehicle — we passed a valley covered in thick foliage.
It was a breathtaking view but Sachiko’s remarks later revealed the darker side of it.
“That valley is called the Sea of Trees. Many people went there with no intention of coming back,” she said.
“So this is the infamous Suicide Forest,” I whispered to myself.
According to Sachiko, she once went to Aokigahara Forest for a camping trip as a schoolgirl.
“It was beautiful and I didn’t know about it (Suicide Forest) but I still remember my teacher warning us never to wander off on our own.
“Even then, it still didn’t register — not until one evening when one of my schoolmates claimed she saw a girl waving at her from a deep corner in the forest,” she related.
I could swear everyone in the bus went quiet the moment Sachiko told that part of her story.
A fellow group member holds a Kuro-Tamago or black egg, an Owakudani delicacy.
Sulphur fumes and black eggs
That unnerving feeling, however, was gone once we reached the Fifth Station. Our bus was among a dozen parked near the lodge — the disembarking point for hundreds of visitors coming to see Mount Fuji up close.
There were many people, despite it being a weekday. Everyone, myself included, rushed to the viewing platform, seeking vantage spots to take photos that would perfectly capture Mount Fuji in the background. Happy with my shots, I took some time admiring Fuji-san, one of three sacred mountains of Japan. The other two are Mount Tate and Mount Haku.
“Do you know that Mount Fuji is an active volcano?” Sachiko’s voice broke my concentration.
“The last major eruption occurred in 1707. Seismic activities are still going on, even as we speak. However, they’re too small for us to feel above ground. Let’s just pray that Fuji-san wouldn’t blow up today” she attempted a joke.
Our next stop Owakudani, about a 20-minute ride from the Fifth Station, emphasised this fact even more. The moment I stepped down from the bus, I could smell sulphur around me.
“It’s like somebody had lit millions of matchsticks here,” someone remarked.
The air was less chilly, though.
As I walked towards the observation deck, I could see fumes billowing from the ground below.
Aptly called the ‘Valley of Hell’, the crater at Owakudani was the result of an eruption several millennia ago — one so powerful that till today, the area is still riddled with boiling ponds and subterranean vents releasing volcanic fumes like sulphur dioxide and hydrogen sulphide.
This ancient eruption also gave rise to another feature peculiar to Owakudani — the ‘Kuro-Tamago’ or ‘black eggs’.
These are actually regular chicken eggs but as the sulphur in the water reacts with the calcium in the shell during boiling, it turns the shell black.
“It is said eating one of these would add seven years to your life,” said Sachiko as she handed out the eggs for us to try.
To me, it tasted like a regular boiled egg although the shell smelled much like the flatulence that would come out after eating one.
The vessel approaching the pier at Hakonemachi on the southern end of the lake, sometimes called Lake Hakone.
Iconic lake
We did not stay long at Owakudani as we had to catch the next sight-seeing boat leaving Togendai-ko, about a 15 minute-drive away.
The pier is on the northern end of Lake Ashi, which is always depicted in many artworks and photographs with the snowcapped Mount Fuji as the backdrop.
Just like the ‘Valley of Hell’, this body of water, also known as Lake Hakone, was formed after a volcanic eruption thousands of
years ago. It lies in the caldera of Mount Hakone, more than 8km in length with an average depth of 15m.
The sight-seeing boat, fashioned to resemble a pirate ship, took about 30 minutes to reach the Hakonemachi pier on the southern end where our shuttle bus was waiting.
Just like the scenery along the Subaru Line, the stretch of land that locks this lake was splashed with vibrant autumn colours. I could see small villages and resorts dotting some sections of the shoreline — simply the most picturesque backdrop for a painting.
With all travelling arrangements being handled by the organisers, I was not sure about the fare for this boat ride but a quick Google check revealed the one-way-only trip should cost around 1,000 yen (around RM35).
I also discovered two useful websites that those wishing to visit Hakone would find very informative — http://www.odakyu-travel.co.jp/eng and https://www.japan-guide.com.
After settling inside the bus, I switched on my camera and browsed through the shots via the screen monitor. It was then I realised I did not capture Mount Fuji as much as the other places, although the few shots I did have were quite clear.
If given the chance, I would want to climb Mount Fuji, I whispered again to myself.
As if on cue, Sachiko’s voice reverberated through the bus microphone, saying despite seeing the mountain from her house every day, she never attempted a climb.
“There’s this old saying that goes like this: ‘If you never climbed Fuji-san, you’re a fool. But if you climbed it only once, then you’re a bigger fool.”
“So I have no worries — I’m still just a ‘small’ fool,” she laughed.
Visitors making their way to the observation deck to see volcanic mud pits all over and billowing fumes rising from the ‘Valley of Hell’.