The most interesting experience though was trying to pee.
At the rest stops along the mountain there'd been nicely maintained, very clean bathrooms. Each cost 100 yen, about a dollar, to use. I expected a similar setup when we got to the top. Oh, how wrong. Because this is the top of a mountain in Asia, baby.
The line to get to the toilet was loooong, and the wait ultimately took about 30 minutes. I was with three co-workers, two females and one male (a detail which would become extremely important very soon). When we got to the front of the line, we were charged TWO hundred yen to use the facilities. That's capitalism for you- supply (very low) and demand (VERY high). When we got to the front we noticed that, right at the front of the line, there were two urinals and then a series of stalls. I have to confess that I have a weird thing about stalls: I just don't like going into them unless there's a particular need to, and in this case such a need did not exist. So I had every intention of hitting the urinal. But that urinal was right at the front of the line, with no walls around it, not even tucked out of the way. It was in full view of all 30 minutes of people standing behind me. I had to decide whether I was gonna do the stall or the urinal, and at that moment my pet peeve took over, and I decided I was more grossed out by the stall than I am modest. But I sure wasn't going to be able to perform in front of two female co-workers. So I stood in line with them until they moved on, and then I went up to the urinal, unzipped, and did my duty in front of a mountain worth of Japanese. No fear, baby.
We got something to eat and bought the stamps for our walking sticks that proved we'd made it to the top. After resting for a while, we began the hour-long hike around the crater that would put us at the highest point on the mountain, and thus the highest point in all of Japan. This part was particularly strenuous; we were all exhausted from the climb and the air was SO thin that any uphill walk was very difficult. In this picture, you can see the weather station at the summit just over my right shoulder.
Once we got to the top, we (you guessed it) had to wait in line to climb a staircase to a platform with a marker. The nine of us who'd made it to the top gathered for a group picture at the marker and then had a celebratory snack of Asahi beer and squid jerky.
Seriously, squid jerky is disgusting.
We wandered over to the highest post office in Japan where I dropped off a post card for the Monkey. He loves volcanoes, and I wanted him to know that Daddy had climbed a BIG one. Finally, around 11:00 am, we took a deep breath and started on our way back down. Little did I know the hardest part was yet to come.
Next: the descent.
3 comments:
Awesome story! These are great posts.
I didn't know that you had become an exibitionist! RW
Your bathroom story reminds me of something my dad used to tell. When he was in France during WWII, the "bathroom" in the typical train station was a concrete wall at one end of the platform with a drain at the base of the wall. He was never clear what facilities were available for the ladies. It's one of the reasons that for the rest of his life, my father never did think much of the French, even though he risked his life to liberate them.
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