Day 351: Mount Fuji — Tokyo! — Fish-For-Your-Dinner with Nori
We were up and eating breakfast and packing up before 9 am today. James offered up his review of the ryokan.
“Pro? Little cozy space with lots of jacuzzis. Bad stuff? You don’t just get to get in bed whenever you want cuz you have to wait for them to make the room into beds.”
Accurate-ish!
I would love to watch a game tape of our stay here, btw, and have an expert give us a play by play of every single etiquette breach we made. There’s no way we made it through three days without gravely insulting someone at least five times. Like, we didn’t bow at the right time, we stepped on the wrong part of the tatami mat, we didn’t have the socks folded on our ankles the right way. I’m totally making those up, but that’s the degree of tradition and detail we were facing. So much to remember and we’re too dumb to “get” all (any?) of it.
We loved it — it was a real highlight — but I’m glad to relax a little on the formalities now that we’re gone.
Here we are saying bye to Kanta.
A driver took us two hours west toward Mount Fuji for some exploration and photos.
Mount Fuji is remarkable. It looks so small and far away in these photos, but in person, it’s this enormous, imposing, humbling snow-capped mountain just sitting there with nothing even remotely the same size anywhere around.
It doesn’t even look like there’s a single tree anywhere on or around it.
We had fun visiting different vantages for photos and gazing.
Lunch was at a sweet little French-style bakery. There were some other proposed outings on the travel agent’s list but we decided to pass on the shrines and museums in favor of getting to Tokyo.
Everyone but me zonked on the two-hour drive.
By 3 we were checking in to our hotel, the Gajouen.
This place is particularly significant because it is our last hotel of the year. Do you realize what that feels like? We’ve stayed in 90+ places all year, with 70+ of those hotels. This is the last. one.
The Gajouen was recommended by our travel agent and it’s a winner! It was already a splurge — and then we got a nice upgrade. It’s new, elegant, very Japanese and cozy. I won’t say insanely cozy because my mom said we use the word “insanely” too much in this blog.
We settled in and Teddy and I used some time to plot our next few days.
Meanwhile, Willa sat down and wrote her letter to Santa.
“Dear Santa, For Christmas I want a… 1) Princess Barbie doll with a few dresses 2) Anything “Harry Pottery-y” 3) Hatchimals 4) A make Your Own Bracelet kit 5) Hogwarts robes. Love, Willa
At one point we looked over and James was also writing a letter to Santa, quietly at the desk. Here it is:
It says, “Dear Santa, I want a soccer ball and Hatchimals and a wand and a broom. Love, James. And one more thing. I want a drone. And a drum set.”
More on Santa below.
At 5 we borrowed some hotel umbrellas and braved the chilly, rainy, dark Sunday evening to meet Teddy’s b-school buddy Nori and his family for dinner at a nearby kid-friendly restaurant.
One of the things we said when we were planning this trip was that we wanted to see how people like us lived in other parts of the world. Like, what would the Japanese equivalent of the Sullivans be doing tonight — a rainy, winter school night? What’s the non-sexy, non-exotic Cactus Cantina version of life elsewhere (Cactus Cantina = locals go-to restaurant for young families in non-glamourous part of Washington, DC)?
We’ve had great success finding those places around the world when we’re with families we know. And we had another tonight: Zuao!
At Zuao kids rent poles and fish for their dinner in giant tanks. Sea bream, flounder, shrimp, etc.
Nori’s three adorable kids — May (8) and twins Tomo and Haru (5) — showed us the ropes, and then helped our kids do origami at the table while everyone ate fried, grilled and raw versions of the fish the kids caught.
Nori told us something amazing: Only “beginners” and “foreigners” put wasabi in their soy sauce. Mind blown. What you’re actually supposed to do is spread wasabi on your fish, then dip the whole thing in soy sauce. Soy sauce is “divine” and you’re not supposed to pollute it. Wow. No idea.
His wife was home sick, and he deftly managed his three small humans solo. They were very well behaved. May made Willa and James a bunch of origami “ninja stars,” which they were obviously excited about.
James ate a ton of sashimi bream. Whaaa?
Eventually we made it back home in the rain to our warm and welcoming hotel room, where Teddy read the Hobbit.
At one point James paused the story to get out of bed and come tell me: “Mama, ‘deer’ is a homophone.” It was a few hours after writing his “Dear Santa” letter so maybe that’s where it was coming from? Willa’s learned homophones and he’s picked it up. Deep Thoughts by James.
MISC:
We’ve actually have never done the Santa myth with the kids. We “do” Santa — he gives gifts, we see him at the mall for a photo, the kids write him letters, etc. — but we’ve told Willa and James from the beginning that it’s all make-believe and that the gifts are really from mom and dad. A controversial choice — realize it’s unorthodox. But see? Our kids still excitedly write letters to Santa! Proof that we did not ruin Christmas for them! (Our friend Ilana was raised this way and confirms it did not “ruin Christmas” for her. It’s her favorite holiday.) The hardest part is actually making sure they don’t ruin it for someone else. The trick has been to share one little reminder at the beginning of the season that Santa’s actually mom and dad (mostly with a wink and smile), and then never mention it again the rest of the holiday — just play along. That seems to put it out of their minds and prevent them from telling their believer buddies.
Glad to have six nights in Tokyo and at this hotel. Savoring every second.
