Today was little baby’s first day of school! We packed her all up all kindergarten-style and, like any good set of guardians, chaperoned her to school. This involved navigating the tricky tunnels of Tokyo’s train system with a big suitcase during rush hour. We left the hotel late (naturally, of course, it seems to be a common theme these days) and so we were literally running for trains. Janelle struggles, so I do recall at some points I just grabbed her bag and hustled up and down stairs and then she ran the bag over some unsuspecting person’s foot. Ah, Tokyo might hate us today. After dropping little baby off in Hino, Sis and I headed yet further west into the Tokyo countryside.
Trust me, this is dang-near the barrens.
Arriving at the base of the mountain, we were certainly no longer in downtown Tokyo. The pace is slower, the atmosphere quieter, and the scenery decidedly greener. There were also a lot of old people with backpacks and walking sticks – time for a good, old-fashioned pilgrimage.
Our pilgrimage was particularly less rustic than those of the geris on their expedition – we took the chairlift up the mountain. What?
Before heading up, we stopped at the station’s convenience store run by a little old geri and picked up some snacks. All good expeditions have snacks. Once we arrived on the mountain, we had a little sit and stared into the trees and drank some Lindsay Lohan water.
The infamous Lindsay Lohan water.
Yes, I realize it actually says “I Lohas”, but you can’t blame me for confusing the two, can you? I proceeded to make comments such as I needed “more Lindsay” or “where’s my Lindsay?” She kept us so well-hydrated.
So, on top of this (sacred?) mountain, they had this great machine which brewed all kinds of hot beverages fresh for you. It also had the most gnarly giant moth sitting on top of it. Its wingspan was at least as wide as my face. Eeeek!
I didn’t want to remember the moth, so I didn’t take a picture. But, here I am, remembering.
We stopped at the set of benches and sat some more, sipping on our respective beverages (hers, hot, mine, Lindsay.) The view of the city was aiiiet from here too.
It would appear that this mountain is what separates Tokyo from the country. On the other side, it looked like this:
We continued our journey upwards on the mountain, toward the shrine and monastery.
I counted each bank of stairs as I climbed – 30 steps per set. Why?
Maybe this rock is telling me why – I can’t read, so I don’t know.
What’s this? Here’s my (un)educated guess – these are the names of all the Buddhist priests who have lived on this mountain since…the beginning of time? Yeah, I said it was (un)educated.
Ah yes, my infamous little dudes on a hill. Okay, maybe not infamous, but that’s just semantics.
So were you just asking yourself, “Why are those statues wearing bibs?” If so, you likely aren’t alone. In fact, Sis and I contemplated long and hard why every little statue was wearing a homemade bib. This blogger gives us the heads-up:
When you first see a statue at a little shrine or temple dressed in modern clothes, it looks like someone has been playing a sacrilegious joke. The truth is that they are adorning the statue in red in accord with the meaning of the color in Shinto and Buddhist culture. In Japan, red is seen as driving off demons or disease. Red bibs, hats, etc. on statues of deities has spiritual significance, despite the fact that it looks rather whimsical and frivolous.
Once we had trotted up and down the endless stairs at the shrine and saw some monks go by chanting, we headed back to the sitting area and went to a little soba shop for lunch. A soba shop on a mountain. I guess business is good? The geris on their expedition gotta eat somewhere.
That white creamy stuff on the top was not delicious. It was radish mush.
Though I thought we’d only end up spending a short time, it turns out we were on the mountain for a few hours. Time flies when you are staring at bibbed statues!
We were like celebrities going down the mountain. Everyone going up was waving at us. Or maybe there was something on our face? We’re such sisterlebrities.
We were to meet up with little baby sister in Tachikawa later in the afternoon so we headed there and then onwards to home for a brief respite before dinner…
An empty train! That doesn’t happen often. Or ever.
Wtf is this, you ask? This is IKKO. She is a transsexual who uses the brand of shaver I bought. I’m glad he she approves.
Dinner was in Ginza tonight, with a very old friend of Sis’s who she hasn’t seen in over 10 years, Maiko. Maiko was an exchange student in our tiny little prairie town for three years and now works in Tokyo. She’s also very sweet and brought along a friend to entertain us with, uh, a variety of stories.
Dinner was at Gonpachi, that of the famous chain from Kill Bill yadda yadda yadda. It’s different than the Nishi-Azabu cool one and ridiculously pricey. But it was fun!
After regaling stories and chatting about a variety of things, we moved the party a little closer to home at Akasaka Sacas. We sat for our first time at what would come to be known as “our table” at Grigio (okay, we sat their twice during the whole vacation, but I want it to appear home-like?) I had the most ridiculous drink, recommended as the best by Seraj – I’m now of the mind he has no idea what tastes good. But that likely doesn’t matter since he probably won’t hold good on his promise to take me to Lex at Christmas. But you don’t know anything about that, so whatever.
So.much.vodka.
We managed to stumble home quite easily from this distance. Yayyy!
Tomorrow is another chillax day – we are heading up north to visit my favourite stop in all of Saitama and then…we bring the party home with a raging night of clubbing. Yes, me. Clubbing. I’m going to try to pass for 22 or 23…
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