Taking a brief respite from our Michelin quest, for a 10 day vacay with family in the Land of the Rising Sun
It was only our second day in the Land of the Rising Sun, but the morning wasted no time reminding us that Japan runs on precision-and cold. We were up early, the kind of early that feels heroic when there are two babies, two strollers, and a marathon on the agenda.
Today was no ordinary sightseeing day. This was Fuji Marathon day, and we were heading out to support our son, Joaquin, as he took on all 42 kilometers at the foot of Japan’s most iconic mountain.
At 7:15 a.m. sharp, a private van pulled up outside our hotel. The temperature hovered at a brisk 6°C, with a light drizzle in the air that made everything feel sharper, quieter. Renting a van felt like the smartest decision we’d made all trip-safer, warmer, and infinitely more practical than navigating trains with babies and strollers in tow. Within minutes, we were cocooned inside, slowly warming up as the city slipped away.
The van ride lulled us into a half-sleep, that pleasant travel drowsiness that comes from early mornings and anticipation. We woke just in time for our first stop: breakfast near Gotemba. Because before cheering on a marathon runner-or shopping, or mountain-gazing-you need fuel.
Kona Coffee delivered exactly what we needed. Fluffy pancakes, hearty burgers, fresh salads, and strong, comforting coffee filled the table.
Outside, the sky remained stubbornly overcast and foggy, and we quietly adjusted our expectations. Maybe Mt. Fuji would stay hidden today. That happens, we were told. Fuji reveals herself only when she wants to.
With full stomachs, we made our way to Gotemba Outlets for a bit of shopping therapy, strolling through the complex with the mountain still cloaked in mystery.
Time moved quickly, and soon we were back in the van, leaving about an hour before Joaquin was due to cross the finish line.
Then, somewhere on the road to Lake Kawaguchiko, the mood shifted. The clouds began to lift.
The light changed. And suddenly-there she was.
Mt. Fuji emerged, massive and magnificent, as if she had been waiting for the perfect moment.
Snow-capped, regal, and utterly awe-inspiring, she stood in full view, silencing the van and stealing our breath. From that point on, she seemed to follow us everywhere, appearing and reappearing like a proud host finally ready to show off.
By the time we reached the marathon finish area, Mt. Fuji had turned the day into something unforgettable. And as we waited to see our son complete his incredible run, it felt like the mountain itself was cheering him on too-timeless, steady, and magnificent.
Pigoutmanila 