So how come I couldn't even see it?
Typically after five days of clear blue sky and perfect Autumn temperatures the heavens decided to open on the day I was going to Hakone national park. Add in the fog, the freezing weather and the two-hour traffic jam and I may as well have been on a bus to Southend. The closer I got to Hakone the harder the rain started to fall, then I got off at the wrong bus stop.
And then, the rain got worse.
As luck would have it, the accommodation (a fantastic traditional Japanese Ryokan) had it's own indoor thermal bath which was heated from the volcanic waters which ran below – an unusual stoke of luck indeed – and I spent a glorious afternoon in there considering whether to go for an early evening hike.
And then, the rain got worse.
So I stayed in the bath.
At around midnight a siren in the town went off, it sounded like one of those World War II air raid sirens. I was reasonably confident that we were not about to be flattened by bomber command but I was a little perturbed that a bloody massive landslide might be on the way.
It wasn't. I have no idea what the siren was for, probably those flaming kids down at the sushi club.
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