Getting Gone

I wasn't truly alone at that point in Tokyo.  In the massive 16-man dorm atop Ace Inn Shinjuku, another guy named Jeff was hanging out as well.  He was trying to setup a pretty cool Asian concierge business and had to finish some things in Tokyo before fleeing.  Noticing I could barely shuffle to the bathroom with my bum foot, he asked me what was the problem.  I showed him my shiny new $200 REI Salomon boots I had bought for Nepal.  "Ahhhh," he replied.

He offered to split a taxi to a sporting goods store he knew of where I could buy some sneakers.  I jumped, figuratively, at the chance.  Soon I was dropping $180 for a $60 pair of ASICs trainers, but it didn't matter.  I could WALK!!!!  Strains of hallelujah filled my head and the heavens parted.  Game. On.

Just the day before, I had decided that with my foot problems I might as well skip out of Tokyo and head to a beach in the Philippines to re-coup.  But now, with my new zillion dollar wonder-sneakers, I had new life.  I changed my flight a 2nd time so that I could check out Mt Fuji and Kyoto.  My wallet singed to a crisp and my feet light, I hopped a bus to Mt Fuji.

There is not much to say about my time in Fuji, other than that it was raining or cloudy the whole time.  I had a wonderful first experience in an Onsen.  I had a marvelous hoto soup.  And I learned to fold a paper crane, origami-style from my bartender Mayumi.  But Fuji-san didn't want me there yet.  It was time to get on the Shinkansen and head to Kyoto.