On the Lake Chuzenji area map I saw there was a former British embassy and a former Italian embassy on the opposite side of the lake. I had already hiked for an hour and climbed 212 steps. It looked like the embassies were about a half hour hike. Should I go?
So I did, and I was glad. This was the view from the other side of the lake.
There was a sign about the 29-kilometer (18-mile) hike you could take around the lake. Wouldn’t that be cool? Once in a while I daydream of hiking the Pacific Crest Trail or the Superior Hiking Trail. Then I remember that my scoliosis makes sleeping on the ground a bad idea. If there were inns along the route I would consider it—someday.
The former British embassy is now a memorial park. I paid the trivial entry fee and wandered through. There was a tearoom offering formal British-style teas but I had had my fill of ramen.
This was the former ambassador’s office. Not a bad view.
There was a photo display about Ernest Satow, a British diplomat who represented England in Japan at the end of the Edo Period and start of the Meiji Period. He “went out to Japan,” as the British say, when he was still a teenager. Edited from Wikipedia:
Satow is better known in Japan than in Britain or the other countries in which he served. He was an exceptional linguist, an energetic traveler, a writer of travel guidebooks, a dictionary compiler, a mountaineer, a keen botanist, and a major collector of Japanese books and manuscripts.
He also served in China, Siam, Uruguay and Morocco, and represented Britain at the Second Hague Peace Conference in 1907. In his retirement he wrote A Guide to Diplomatic Practice, now known as ‘Satow’s Guide to Diplomatic Practice’ – which is widely used today.
Satow was never able, as a diplomat serving in Japan, to marry his Japanese common-law wife, Takeda Kane. They had an unnamed daughter who was born and died in infancy, and two sons, Eitaro and Hisayoshi. Eitaro was diagnosed with TB in 1900, and was advised to go and live in the United States, where he died before his father. His second son, Takeda, became a noted botanist, founder of the Japan Natural History Society and president of the Japan Alpine Club.
What a full and fulfilling life, with quite a burden of sadness, too.
There was this little tribute to QEII and Japanese-British relations.
It made me wonder. I hadn’t seen any glossy mags with princesses on the covers or heard about scandals by members of the Japanese royal family. Were they just very low profile and non-scandalous, or did the media not report on them?
I had had enough walking and passed on a visit to the Italian embassy memorial park. Besides, it was getting late. I hopped a bus back to the Lake Chuzenji bus station, then caught the bus back into Nikko. The road down the mountain was one way. I have taken some vertiginous rides through mountains—in Jamaica, Ethiopia, Belize, Arizona—but this was the scariest ever.
I fell asleep to the sound of rain pattering on my window, and slept through the night with only a few RLS twitches. Maybe that’s the cure—hike for hours and climb hundreds of steps every day in clean mountain air!
The next day I headed back to Tokyo. On the train, I again meditated on how most visitors “do” Nikko in one day as I gazed out at the rice paddies.
It was an easy return trip; the local train was beautiful, with wood paneling and classic Japanese paintings adorning the luggage racks.
I bought a to-go bento box in Utsonimiya. It was beautifully wrapped but not good food. Still, I ate it as I watched the usual assortment of train officials walk up and down the aisles wearing their caps and white gloves and badges, bowing to us passengers at the end of each car before walking through to the next.
At Ueno Station, all I had to do now was follow the easy directions printed off from my next hotel’s website.