Spindle: On sunrise, I immediately leapt out of Parcly’s heart and dashed outside, at the same time arousing her to release herself from her bottle. Mount Fuji was there in all its glory, reflecting sunlight from the left in golden shades. I could just see some windigos on top maintaining the snow cap, blowing up the breezes that flew down the cone and into the ponies below.
 
Parcly Taxel: It may have been depicted in countless tapestries and postcards, but to see the great mountain up close was one of my long-held dreams. Through power poles and higher buildings it shines, unmatched by any other peak in Japan. Dense fog drawing close served to boost its mystique, either obscuring the peak or crowning it in a halo of some sort, much like holy figures in temples of many denominations.
 
After the fog became too thick for an extended period of time, I ate bread with corn for breakfast and took the train to Kawaguchiko (河口湖), replete with various rental services for tourists. The Fujikyu Railway has been twinned with Matterhorn’s Gotthardbahn for over 25 years, as I saw on an adjacent train’s livery.
 
Spindle: As mentioned before, because this place is a regular stop on the classic day-trip route from Shinjuku and back, it receives more hoof traffic than Fujiyoshida. We rested ourselves for a moment, then rode off south to the Mishima Skywalk (三島スカイウォーク) on the other side of Mount Fuji simply because trains don’t run there. 30 kilometres separate the locales – an hour and a half for us but probably less for a kirin.
 
Autumn Blaze: Kirins would indeed cover the distance faster, having local experience and legs made for graceful leaps. I saw Parcly getting tired before she’d covered the first third, needing some winds to encourage her.
 
Thick clouds were already encircling Mount Fuji when the duo arrived at half past noon, but the land beneath remained clear. The suspension bridge’s 400 m central span, longest among pedestrian bridges in Japan, has grated flooring in the middle of its walkway showing the deep ravine below. A zipline parallels the main length, while at the other side from the entrance are a few hawkers and restaurants. I chewed on some soft fries (consistency like mashed potato) with Parcly there, singing like a kirin sings.
 
Parcly: Those fries were not lunch, however. For that we retraced our steps partially into Mishima proper, where I had raw tuna don with an egg and sesame seeds sprinkled on top. Nearby lay Tamagoya, a shop selling only egg-related products; after letting the tuna don digest I had for “high tea” an egg pancake with strawberries and strawberry cream.
 
Spindle: This last dish was limited to December, strawberry season in Izu (伊豆). To that end we windowshopped around the Mishima area – the strawberries were red and round indeed – before going to Gotemba (御殿場) and its cluster of outlet stores, almost all with tourist tax refund schemes (Japan’s tax rate is 8%).
 
Until this point our inventory of attractions visited was very much domestic, made in one prefecture and shown to other prefectures. This was our first taste of cosmopolitan life, still far from Tokyo and with signs in Chinese and Korean in addition to the usual English. I know that many ponies will choose the high fashion now, but don’t be too hasty to accept it, for the life outside is far more enriching.
 
Parcly: A long gallop back to the accommodation under night and street lights remained, where I offloaded my purchases and some of my stress. By this time it was 21:00, when most dining outlets close or have closed, so I just made a quick run past the Fujikyu Highland amusement park (affiliated with and a stop on the eponymous railway) to an Aeon branch, where I got a random bento and things I would have for breakfast in the coming days.