Fujiyoshida and the Amazing Technicolour Wuss-bag

Right, while Matt is busy recuperating from the effects of a volcano well-travelled, let me tell you what my wimped-out arse did during the weekend.

Sweet fuck all.

Not strictly true, Martine and I did go up to the 5th station in the evening to see the boys off (a huge thank you to Aki and Yuko who drove them up in their plush-o 4WD) and shake our heads at Albert "I won't be cold, I'm Canadian" Arseneau as he undertook the mount with little more than shorts and a polo sweater. He did freeze at the top, but to his credit, made the mighty climb in shorts. Well, colour me dumbfounded.

Saturday afternoon was one of those rare times when there was a sunset in Fujiyoshida (and a killer one too - practically a supernatural phenomenon according to Martine) and Mount Fuji was clearly visible.

After a DVD and a fabulously comfy futon on Martine's floor (OK, I spent maybe, oh, 5 seconds wondering how the boys were doing) we woke up to a day which was as peevish as Saturday was perky. Mists blanketed Fujiyoshida and Mount Fuji was obscured - you could have tripped over her without knowing.

Such eerie weather however, was perfect for shrine touring, so we two pilgrims got snap-happy at Sengen-Jinja, Mount Fuji's official shrine. I was so relaxed, it was an outrage. Must have been the fresh inaka air and the quality female company (kindred spirits are a little thin on the ground in Tokyo).

And that was pretty much it. My weekend. Thrilling, isn't it?