"A wise person climbs Mount Fuji..." quoted the Fodor's guide as we prepared to visit our sister Karen teaching in Hiroshima. Too bad our trail to the fabled volcano at the center of Honshu had been fraught with more foolishness than wisdom.
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"Parts from the number one engine took out the number two engine" announced the pilot upon landing between rows of firetrucks back at Newark an hour after first takeoff.
"This is a good day to die" quoted sister Karla from the historical novel Shogun as we glimpsed the Arctic ice sheet while flying over the top of the world.
"Tatami for sleep" urged the hostess escorting us into a sparse Tokyo ryokan after a long and sleepless flight.
"Chopsticks?" asked the waiter handing us bowls of green slime with a giant snail floating in the center.
"Oops, wrong side" exclaimed brother-in-law Howard driving down the right hand side of a country road as oncoming cars swerved.
"Saki wa, David-san!" insisted the Matsue restauranteer refilling my ceramic cup for the fifth time.
"Geiging, Geiging" pointed highschoolers as two foreigners biked through their village on the way to a paper making shop.
"No theft in Japan" admonished the police operator when I reported dropping my never-to-be-found wallet containing 125,000 yen ($1000) in a Kyoto taxi.
"Nice of them to provide a well" I marveled, downing a ladle before noticing that the Japanese pilgrims to the Miyajima tidal shrine used it to purify their hands before passing through the torii.
"Last bus two hours" yelled the driver opening the door at the third climbing stage of ten for the two remaining passengers.
"Better run" cautioned Karla as we circled up the cinder trail that wound around the ancient volcano at the center of the main island.
"Last water before the top" observed the bassoon player for the London Philharmonic tramping straight down the glacier in crampons as we sipped the ashen runoff at stage seven.
"Thirty minutes until bus" warned Karla as we slipped and slid around the eighth stage.
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"... but only a fool does it again" I added, turning back for the slog down to stage three.
Fuji-San
With head cloaked with cloud
and foothills shrouded in fog,
ravens pick your ribs.
- May 15, 1991
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