Getting there & around
Tokyo’s Haneda Airport is the
closest airport to the Western
Kanto region. Japan Airlines and
All Nippon Airways o er regular
connections to Tokyo from
London, while British Airways
fl ies up to four times daily to
Tokyo airports from Heathrow.
jal.co.jp/en ana.co.jp/en ba.com
Public transport links Tokyo to
many parts of Kanto region. It’s
a two-hour train journey from
Shinjuku to Kawaguchiko station
at the northeastern base of Fuji.
For more on trains and the JR
Tokyo Wide Pass (which covers
much of Kanto), see jreast.co.jpWhen to go
Mount Fuji’s climbing season is
from July to September. However,
many people visit Kanto in March
or April for cherry blossom
season — expect rosy hues on
the shores of Lake Kawaguchi-
ko in March and April. Autumn
colours are also spectacular, with
Japanese maple trees taking on
vivid reds in October.How to do it
Heartland JAPAN operates a
range of tours around Kanto
— its three-day Mount Minobu
Spiritual Tour takes in temples
and mountains to the west of Fuji.
heartlandjapan.comIn an age of Shinkansen and Airbus, Essentials
he’s dedicated his life to serving the last
travellers walking this old path.
Satoshi’s teahouse is called Amazake
Chaya, named after a fermented rice drink
served to fortify weary walkers. To step
inside is to catch a faint echo of the Edo
period, refl ected in earthen fl oors and
simmering kettles, tatami mats and china
cups. And every day, from 7am to 5.30pm,
there’s an almost religious mission to provide
shelter to wayfarers, because, as Satoshi says:
“There is no Sunday for travellers.”
During Typhoon Hagibis, in October
2019, when the landscapes of Kanto were
submerged and trains were derailed, Rugby
World Cup matches cancelled and lives
lost, Satoshi kept Amazake Chaya open.
Only one customer came that day. Rain
thrashed down on the thatched roof and
wind whipped at the paper screens, but the
teahouse evaded the fl oodwaters, perhaps,
Satoshi suggests, because his ancestors
knew where to build their business.
“Or perhaps it was because of the
protection of gods,” he continues. “People
don’t remember them, but there are gods in
this landscape.”
The power of water
Tamaki Harayama stands upright, a fi gure
of perfect serenity, her hands clasped, her
back arched. “Nam myoho renge kyo,” she
recites, through pursed lips — the Lotus
Sutra, uttered by Buddhists on Mount
Shichimen since the 13th century. There’s no
quivering in her voice, no shiver down her
spine to indicate the gallons of freezing-cold
water thundering down onto her head.
“In summer, the water is soft and warm,”
says Tamaki, emerging from the waterfall.
“In winter, it feels like needles. But the
colder the water, the purer I feel. A burden
lifts and I have a direction in life.”
Tamaki is taking part in the Japanese
practice of misogi (waterfall purifi cation),
and in November, the water is Baltic.
Shichimen is one of many holy mountains
around Fuji, a satellite caught in its divine
orbit. It lies, Tamaki explains, on an axis
between Fuji and the birthplace of the
Buddha in Nepal, and its summit o ers
one of the most easterly viewpoints of Fuji
before the great volcano disappears, folded
away among the green hills of Japan.
By day, Tamaki works as a teacher in
Tokyo, helping Japanese jazz singers and
rap artists with their English pronunciation.
A lapsed Catholic, she came to Shichimen to
“improve her soul”, she explains, and as part
of her seven-day retreat she stands under
the waterfall for three minutes, twice a day.
“Under the waterfall, I feel a connection
with this country,” Tamaki tells me, sipping
a steaming cup of Nescafe in a guesthouse
beside the torrent. “I truly feel Japanese.”
The spiritual life of Japan is sometimes
di¢ cult for outsiders to fathom. Shinto and
Buddhist beliefs interweave and coexist; on
Shichimen, there are Shinto stories of dragon
goddesses inhabiting nearby lakes, while
a community of Buddhist monks lives in a
temple on the mountaintop. But faith here
is often rooted in the natural world; in the
power of landscapes to transform the souls
who pass through them; in those who climb
mountains; in pilgrims who feel the might of
waterfalls crashing onto their shoulders.Tamaki Harayama taking part in
waterfall purifi cationTo fi nd out more, visit heartlandjapan.comPARTNER CONTENT FOR HEARTLAND JAPAN