photography – PhotoSouth

Fuji San

Time to leave the snow country and its monkeys to head towards Mount Fuji, or Fuji San as it is called here, along with its tourists. I know which is better behaved,

At Oshino Hakkai on a still day it is possible to see a perfect reflection of Fuji San in the lake. Getting to the front of the jostling crowds to do so is just about as hard as getting that still day. I chose not to. By taking a small walk along the shoreline I once again was by myself and could decide where and how to try to do Fuji San justice with a photo.

At 3776 meters, it is the country’s highest mountain, and its sacred symbol with numerous shrines in the vicinity. It also is a volcano that last erupted in 1707. And no, it is not extinct, with occasional rumblings that are said to come from magma reservoirs deep underneath it.

And being sacred and tall makes it a popular hike, with up to 4000 climbers a day attempting the 10 to 12 hour trip. And that is on just one of the 4 tracks. A handful of hikers make the supreme sacrifice each year to try to gain the glory of the summit. Like all taller mountains, it may choose not to let you up, or back down.

Just a little bit north of the tourist laden Oshino Hakkai is the Oshino Sengen shrine with its centuries old cypress trees. Once again, a haven of peace and solitude.

If I needed to make a choice, I know which it would be.

Day of the monkeys

A struggle to rise and ready myself, camera and clothing for the day before a 7am breakfast. Meanwhile the dedicated bus driver shovels out the bus. It’s good to be the king.

The word breakfast understates the culinary experience that is meant to strengthen us for today’s struggle to obtain the perfect photo while battling hordes of unsympathetic tourists.

A short drive saw us at the start of the monkey walk. 1.6km of a snowy track through a winter landscape of cypress, oak, maple and more. When I say snow, it’s not the light Australian dusting, but metres of dry pillowy stuff loading down branches of the trees. In Japanese gardens branches are often supported to prevent breaks.

The hot springs that the macaques frequent to luxuriate in have been enhanced for the benefit of both monkey and human. They are also attracted with small amounts of grain or sweet potato, but otherwise forage is their normal diet of roots, bark and greens. As a result the snow monkeys are very comfortable around humans, treating them with the same disdain as a cat would.

They certainly seem to enjoy their warm soaks, achieving a Zen calm as they relax.

Back in Yudanaka a wander through the urban, snowclad streets revealed new views around every corner. The Buddhist shrine to Kannon, the deity of Mercy on top of a hill approached by 112 stone steps was one of these. Amongst other things apart from the 25 meter tall bronze statue are a large bell to ring for peace, and an eternal flame lit in Hiroshima.

Lest we forget the innocent or humanity.

To Nagano – Matsumotu & Yudanaka

After a comfortable night’s sleep in an uncomfortable room, breakfast was followed by a gathering of belongings and their people onto what can only be described as a cute little bus. Maybe it was the fringes on the curtain valence that gave the finishing touch to the bright, cheerful colour scheme of the seating.

We had glimpses of Fuji San through the canyons of the Tokyo landscape. And later other snow capped hills could be seen. The bus made an interesting contrast to the stark winter landscape, and it’s trees bereft of leaves.

A few hours later we arrived in Nagano for a traditional Japanese lunch featuring tempura, a sashimi of fish and una, soba, and all the trimmings. Less fresh seafood here in the middle of the island. Then back to the bus and on to Matsumotu castle.

Authentic and original, one of only 5 in Japan designated as a national treasure. And also the oldest originally fortified in the late 15th century, with the 5 level castle tower built in 1594.

Let me say this, it has steep, narrow stairs going up it’s internal 6 levels. Yes it has not levels on the inside than the outside. Let me also say the timber work in it is monumental in scale and extraordinary in quality.

It also contains a very nice collection of various guns, dating back to the 16th century. Once the Japanese craftsmen had a couple of western guns, they were able to replicate them within a year. These ended up having the same effect on the samurai, as they did on the knights in Europe. But those warrior castes somehow seem more classy than the average general sending his troops to fight somebody else’s battle.

Anyway, onwards and upwards to Yudanaka. And the snow begins.

And what I can only assume is an authentic Ryokan experience once we arrived at our lodging for the next 2 nights. A futon on a tatami mat floor. 6 star service in a 3 star hotel.

And the food. A banquet fit for a shogun. And a bunch of westerners faking it, dressed in yukata robes and complaining about low chairs. It could be worse. But it could not be much better than the Kobe beef shabu shabu. A dyi hotpot with the beef almost dissolving into a what ends up a supremely tasty broth.

I will leave it at that. I only wish taste bud had memories.

Odawara and on

My luggage has left me. I am putting myself in the hands of Japanese efficiency and having it forwarded to my next hotel. This leaves me free to experience one of the other Japanese marvels – the Shinkansen. The first line was completed by 1964 in time for the Tokyo Olympics, and many parts of the world are still playing catchup, hampered by bureaucracy and politics. Nothing like a political will being hampered by a short term wish for re-election. Never mind the future, or even common sense.

It takes an effort of train navigation to be rewarded by it’s efficiencies, especially for a foreigner not versed in the multiple Japanese alphabets. But it is worth it. Travelling at speeds up to 300km/h I was able to visit Odawara and it’s reconstructed samurai castle, originally established in the early 15th century. If you really wanted to play the tourist part you could dress up as a samurai or ninja – at a price. Or you could stick with the reality and marvel of the thick stone ramparts and embedded gates made out of century old trees.

On the way back to the station for the return journey there was a light dusting of snow as I walked by the multitude of smaller eateries selling various seafood prepared in various ways. A reminder that Odawara is a seaside town with nearby mountains and their ski resorts on the other side.

Back in Tokyo I checked in to my new hotel in readiness for extending my advice beyond the city with a small group of hopefully like minded photographers.

Kamakura

Dawn breaks. Look, the sun shine right into my eyes. Something in the deep recesses of my mind tells me this is not the comfort of my bed. But comfort it is.

Coffee. To try to get the fuzz out of my brain. I found the Cafe downstairs, with their far too short chairs, Japanese style elevator music and western food. And a coffee machine that makes a fair semblance of a latte. But that must leave the safety of the hotel, and it’s forgiveness of my social faux pas. Time to navigate the outside world.

Japan has the art of public train transport down to a fine art. Greater Tokyo with its population of 37.2 million people has trains, subways, monorails and the famous shinkansen or bullet train to us uneducated Westerners. Clean, efficient, on time, and no graffiti. Imagine that. No really. Is it possible maybe respect for the assets of society is part of education?

But I digress, again.

After arriving in Kamakura, about half an hour south of Yokohama, a shortish walk saw me arriving at the Kotoku-in Temple and it’s large bronze Buddha. 13.35 meters high and cast around 1252 it has survived tsunamis, earthquakes and humans, of which they were plenty. Insta-posing and selfie sticks, never mind contemplation or enlightenment. Time to head for the hills, literally.

There is a walk along the undulating spine of the hills, which can lead you to the Kita-Kamakura station, and from there the train again.

It’s a little track and I was able to count the people on it on one hand. Peace, solitude and all that that goes with it on the fringes of the largest city in the world. Let us live in hope the tourists don’t discover this, and it’s rewards to the soul.

At the end of the day I achieved moments of peace with glimpses of Japanese tradition through the trees. But no enlightenment. Maybe a selfie stick – but no.

Sayonara Australia – Konnichiwa Japan

A land of mystery, so they say. But you need to get there first. Easy, book a flight to Tokyo, which ends up being 2 flights. By the time you end up in Sydney at 9.30am you’ve been up since 5am and have been booked on 3 different flights and 4 seats.

The mystery ends up being how you made it onto your actual flight to Japan itself !

Be that as it may, I managed to end up at the Tokyo Haneda airport after 5 movies and more Adult beverages than that.

Customs, Immigration was over in the flash of a QR code. And I even managed to get to my hotel, and more importantly, a bed. My bed for the next 2 nights.

Vienna, City of Food, Museums, Horses and Catacombs

Warning, food may yet again be featured in this post, along with symbols of civilisation of various descriptions. Why else would you come to Vienna?

We’ll start the day with Kaiserschmarren, a sort of scrambled pancake. And coffee of course. Then the first of the museums, the Hofjagd und Rüstkammer museum, basically the Hapsburg armoury. Exquisitely made armour at that for the elite, and strangely enough, their kids also, little kids at that. At the rates kids grow, the armours would not have fitted them long. Ironically the armoury also included early muskets and rifles, which spelled the end of knights in armour in the 1600s.

Now to a tour of the Spanish Riding School. This was founded back in 1572 by Archduke Karl II, another Hapsburg ruler. He had travelled widely in his youth in Italy and Spain, and brought back a whole bunch of horses from Spain. As traveling horses overland continuously was not practical, a stud was established in Lipica in 1580, hence Lipizzaners. This stud was moved to Piber in 1920 after the first world war. There was also a frantic rescue operation of these horses during World War II, watch the film.

But being summer most of the horses were on holidays, apart from a handful. I guess the tourists do want to see something alive resembling a handsome stallion like horse. I know I did.

Time for a revitalizing sausage from a stand. I had a decidedly non-Viennese, but still tasty, Curry wurst. But the beer was still Austrian.

Next back to the Hapsburgs and some of the shiny things they accumulated in centuries of ruling this area of Europe. No doubt the armoury may have assisted in this. The crown jewels, crosses, a carved 2,860 carat emerald ointment container, and numerous bits of coronation wear. Just what any emperor would need, while alive anyway.

Just up the road and a couple of blocks over is the Capuchin Crypt, home to the mortal remains of the Hapsburgs since 1633. As of 2023 149 Habsburgs have been laid to rest there, most in metal sarcophagi, with the latest in 2011. The Order of Friars Minor Capuchin is a religious order of Franciscan friars, and act as guardians.

Time to eat again. Apparently, a proper Wiener schnitzel is only made from veal. Anything else is just a Schnitzel made from whatever it is made from. Who am I to argue.

A Cosmique delight

An early awakening at 5.30 for a 6am breakfast and a 7am start to the Aiguille du Midi gondola in order to head for the top, along with several dozen other likeminded souls. Yes, I was there only a few days ago, but this was to be different.

We were wearing our climbing boots, and had our climbing gear with us. We managed to head up on the second gondola of the day. They were still clearing the ice from some of the walkways when we arrived a good sign. We donned our crampons as quick as we could, the harnesses were put on Chamonix while we were waiting for the gondola.

As the weather was good, and crowds of climbers were expected, we were trying to get in front of the queue to avoid being impacted by a Hillary Step moment. Look it up. Not recommended. The route we were heading for was the Cosmique Ridge, not something to be taken lightly as it features sensational exposure, read cliffs, potential falls and death. A climber’s delight, rated at 4a with a 4c crux, and would normally take between 3 to 6 hours by the tie you are back in the Aiguille du Midi complex.

We scrambled across the barrier that keeps the tourists from plummeting to an untimely death, roped up and carried on to rewards of great views, new firm and semi crusty snows. We got to the base of the climb in good time due to the good conditions. We kept the pace up with Christian in front, Stefanie in the middle, then myself. Unless we reversed the order.

Clambering up between and on the shards of granite, a couple of abseils and a few photos later we emerged at the top of the spire and at the base of the buildings at Aiguille du Midi. A final clamber up the ladder had us complete the climb on the observation platform, except it was us being observed by curious tourists. Noting like watching a bunch of smelly climbers high fiving and hugging.

The Mont Blanc retreat

Groups had started rising early to make the best of the frozen ground. But there was no frozen ground.

After a leisurely French style breakfast, including bowls of coffee, we left at 7.15 to head up to the Grand Couloir crossing point, but in reality, we knew there was no hope. No safe hope at least. We watched a rapidly moving duo cross the couloir, and then started heading back to the Nid D’Aigle station we had arrived at a thousand meters lower.

The impending front along with its rain got to us about 10.30, and we got to the station just after 11. Station is a rather grand name for a gravel platform at the end of a short tunnel. The railway was originally planned to head all the way up to the top, but the project ran out of steam in the fifties. Probably just as well.

Instead of waiting cold and wet another hour, we walked down another 500 meters in height. First along the rail tracks, then through fog shrouded forest to the Bellevue station we had embarked from the day before. Real coffee and good, local food awaited us there. This gave us an opportunity to discuss the following day’s plans. This was to be plan C, and did not include the Mont Blanc summit unfortunately.

The Mont Blanc approach

A fairly leisurely start as we only had to get up to the Tete Rousse hut at 3187 meters, and the rack railway took us up to 2380 meters already. That made it about an 800 meter climb if my sums are right. This to be over mushy snow and glacial rubble fields. Ankles be damned.

We managed this in just under 3 hours, and it didn’t even feel hard surprisingly. All the acclimatisation must be working. What was better that the weather held until we got to the hut. Our hope a that it was not going to be as wet or snowy as the forecast was predicting, and it would not stay as warm in order to stabilise the snow, ice and rocks we had to climb over to get to the top of Mont Blanc.

We planned to leave early for an alpine start about 4 am, climb about 150 meters to and across the Grand Couloir. This is a steep and narrow gully from near the Gouter hut and past the back of the Tete Rousse hut.

It started to rain, along with some lightning, just after we got to the hut. During dinner, about 7pm, there was a sudden commotion. An avalanche was heading down the Grand Couloir. Car sized rocks and masses of snow and rubble thundered down all 600 meters of the gully. The warm wet weather was not doing us any favours. The talk in the hut was then generally about plans B, C and D.

Lights out was about 9pm. But the alpine start had changed to wait and see what the morning would bring us. We were in the hands of the fickle mountain and weather gods.