Stairway to the Pagoda

Alright, I feel the last few posts have leaned into reflection and creative process. So let’s brighten things up a bit.

As you may have picked up by now, I have a bit of a fascination with Japan. And since winter has officially arrived here in Melbourne, it feels like the right moment to bring back a little sun and warmth to this journal.

I still remember sitting on the train towards Fujikawaguchiko, watching the scenery shift: tiny houses, green fields, and the silhouette of Fuji San slowly coming into view. It caught me by surprise, right there at the turn of a bend — suddenly, there it was. Fuji-san. This time I wasn’t just passing by. This time, I was going to be there.

My mind raced with ideas and image plans. I had a whole map with pins marking the areas I wanted to photograph. I knew I had three sunrises and two sunsets to make it all happen — assuming the weather was going to be good.

About 30 to 40 minutes after arriving at Kawaguchiko Station, Jade and I were walking through town with our overweight bags. We were tired. We'd come all the way from Hiroshima that morning, spending over six hours hopping trains and navigating our route.

At one point during the walk, I shared my photo plans with Jade. She asked, "What do you want to do now?"

I hesitated to answer honestly. I really wanted to visit the Chureito Pagoda, but it was the furthest point on my map. I didn’t want to push it.

To my surprise, she said, “Well, the weather looks great, and if we leave now, we’ll make it before sunset.”

That was it — we were going to Chureito.

We double-checked the route. One hour and twenty minutes, the app said. Ten minutes later, we were on our way. The walk was long, but beautiful. We wandered through quiet neighbourhoods, caught glimpses of Fuji from new angles, and I kept making mental notes for the next morning’s sunrise. And maybe my next visit. Time was slipping, and blue hour was getting closer. One hour after I started complaining: how is it possible there’s no public transport to get there? (Remember this.)

Then we passed under a bridge, and far up on the hillside, I spotted a torii gate. That was it — we were nearly there.

"¡Lets go, sí se puede, sí se puede!"

We pushed through until we reached the base: a steep staircase on one side and a narrow road winding up the hill on the other. I felt a sudden wave of guilt — what had I gotten us into?

Jade, ever the realist, looked at me and said, “I’m taking the road. No way I’m doing those stairs.”

I’d love to say I raced myself to the top of the hill within seconds, but my body had other ideas. I was smashed — feeling muscles in my legs I didn’t even know I had. I chose the road too (LOL), and kept going.

At the top, I finally saw it: the Chureito Pagoda. Blue hour was just beginning. I found the “photographers' spot” — already crowded — and spotted a small opening. I quickly moved toward it, knowing I’d be there for at least an hour.

Camera bag down. ND filter or polariser? GorillaPod secured and ready. Jacket on. Frame set. Composition checked. Extra battery ready.

I shot my first frame — wow, it looked awesome! Then I kept going, taking a photo every two to five minutes as the sky slowly shifted. It was beautiful. I focused on the moment, the air, and how majestic it all felt. I was grateful — for life, for Jade, and for sharing this exact moment with her, despite the hardship of my poor planning.

And then the moment arrived. Some people say there are no perfect times — but they’re wrong. This was my perfect time.

Then 10 minutes later I got a message on my phone… I’m cold. I knew it was time to go. I packed up, walked down, and met her near the pagoda.

“Let’s go home,” I said. We started walking downstairs this time. As we descended, I couldn’t stop taking photos. I wasn’t even thinking much about the results — I was just living it. Still high from the moment. Still stunned by what I’d seen.

I was also thinking about the upcoming one-and-a-half-hour walk back to the hotel.

Then, at the base of the hill… we discovered Fujiyoshida Station. Just five minutes away. (Remember when I was ranting about the lack of public transport? Yeah… about that.)

We walked there, and in 20 minutes we were enjoying a nice bowl of ramen as a reward for such a long and extraordinary day.

Back in Melbourne, while sorting and editing, I came across one of the last photos from that evening. One I’d barely registered at the time. But there it was — the most unexpected gift of the trip.

Hope you like it as much as I do.