New Year’s in Tokyo

Planning to spend the holidays in Tokyo? Here are some tips for catching a glimpse of Japanese New Year traditions and seeing Mt. Fuji without having to climb it. This piece was originally published in Matador.com on Jan. 12, 2010--my last month in Japan after having lived there on and off since 1999. New Year is the biggest holiday in Japan, and this year will be the first since the Tsunami. I’ll be thinking about my friends.

Mt. Fuji seen from Mt. Takao outside Tokyo

Tokyo’s Shinjuku Station is the world’s busiest transit hub.  Seeing it empty on a Saturday morning had an Armageddon feel to it.  Shops were shuttered and train station attendants yawned in their plexiglass cubicles.  It was January 2^nd.   Everyone had abandoned Tokyo for the lands of their ancestors. I imagined them indulging in impromptu naps, making up for sleep lost to work, commutes and urban temptations.

They’d watch variety shows.  They’d visit relatives and eat yet another auntie’s New Year’s osechi.  Shrimp would bring longevity, salted herring roe fertility, black soy beans health, and dried baby sardines a bountiful harvest.

At temples and shrines, they’d make offerings to seal the deal on all those promises of good fortune. But they’d be back, the commuting masses. In no time at all I’d be cursing them again as I shuttled between the three teaching jobs I need to make ends meet in this ridiculously expensive city. For now, though, the ghost-town emptiness felt creepy.  I called a friend just to make sure the world hadn’t ended, and we decided to get out of town.

Yakuoin Temple on Mount Takao is a good day trip from Tokyo any time of year.  The hike is an easy but satisfying workout, and there’s a splendid view of Mount Fuji from the top.  It’s a great place, too, to witness Japanese New Year traditions.

From Shinjuku, the Keio Line gets you to Takaosanguchi (literally “Gate to Mount Takao”) in 50 minutes.  A colourful map in front of the station displays all the trails to the top.  The shortest takes 30 minutes to complete, and the longest ninety.  A few of the paths are paved, while others offer some of the challenges of “real” hiking—rocks and slippery bits and stuff.  

It was already past two o’clock when we got off at Takaosanguchi, so we chose the Omotesando Trail, which is paved and takes about 50 minutes. We could have hopped on the cable car and been there in ten, but adrenaline greatly enhances mountain-top views so we started walking.

We stocked up on provisions from the shops and stalls at the foot of the mountain.  Onigiri (rice balls), shrimp crackers and roasted chestnuts would be just the thing to munch on while admiring a snow-capped Mount Fuji.  It was a crystal-clear day, and if we reached the top before sundown, the view would be splendid.  We could have made it on time, but we meandered.

Our first stop was at a bend in the path.  People had congregated to take in a view of the Kanto conurbation.  They pointed and named famous landmarks, like Shinjuku’s sky-scraper district or Yokohama’s observation tower. Me, all I could see was a blur of concrete. 

The next bottleneck was about half-way up the mountain.  Food stall vendors in ankle-length parkas proffered ramen noodles in Styrofoam bowls and sake in paper cups. But what I was drawn to was the sweet and smoky aroma of roasted mochi rice cakes.  As a sugar and starch junky, I always do my very best to resist this sticky, gooey concoction.  This time, though, the excuse was built in:  mochi is a traditional New Year’s treat.  For 400 yen, I got three mochi balls on a stick that the vendor dipped in soy sauce.  The combination of sweet and salty, gooey and crispy, was divine. 

At the temple we lit green incense sticks, cupped the smoke and fanned it towards our bodies.  We threw five-yen coins into the slatted donation box and made wishes for the New Year.  Students prayed for good exams, young couples for everlasting love. We wandered around the temple grounds, mesmerized by the chanting monks.

Then the air turned chilly, and shadows seemed to deepen all around us. We bolted and ran the rest of the way.  When we got to the top, all we could see were darkened silhouettes pointing their cameras at the sky.

A boy yelled:

            “Diamond Fuji!  Diamond Fuji!”

            “What’s that?”  My friend asked.

We squinted and shaded our eyes.  It nearly blinded us, but we saw it: a beaming circle perched on Mount Fuji’s fractured cone of a summit.    We munched on our shrimp crackers and roasted chestnuts until the sun slipped away, streaking the sky purple, gold and pink.

“Diamond Fuji” sunset

TIPS for your Diamond Fuji adventure:

*Bring a flashlight.  With all the touristy hoopla on Mount Takao, you’d think there’d bee some lighting.  But there isn’t!  It was pitch-black on the way down.

*For the fastest way to get there from wherever you are by train, check out Hyperdia. Enter your point of departure and your point of arrival, and presto.

*Impromptu stall purchases are fun, but if you’re on a budget, buy your food in Tokyo because tourist prices apply as soon as you exit Takaosanguchi Station.