As a follow-up to the Akaike lecture, I was hoping to summit Fuji-san for my 65th B’day but it did not work out, thanks to a rain storm (remnant of a typhoon) keeping Fuji-san out of reach that day (and even blocking the access road for a few hours by causing a landslide). The warden were strongly discouraging all entries including mine’s, with reasonable arguments (that mountain rescue would be unavailable). I thus only experienced the less appealing aspects of Fuji’rism, from the predictable, gaudy souvenir shops at the stations, to some Western summiteers walking (and loudly talking) like decorated war heroes, to the crowded buses to access or leave the 5th station—I got stuck next to two French speaking Swiss boasting of their hike and travel experiences in Japan, entitled, obnoxious, and entirely oblivious to the fact that they were the loudest people on the bus!, to the noisy hostel where it seemed a group was departing every half-hour of the short night (even though in the end only four people got access to the trail and ended up turning back). With no glimpse of Fuji-san the entire stay. The title is a traditional sentence hoping for a clear day when summiting Fuji-san.
