That said, there's precious little else to do in Kamikochi beyond pondering and wandering, which is precisely what makes it the perfect weekend escape from Tokyo. Not that this is a groundbreaking revelation; Tokyoites have been coming here for the best part of a century, at one point arriving in such heavy numbers that most of their weekend was spent in the car, sitting in a traffic jam (photos from the Showa era make it look like hell on a mountainside). It’s still busy, of course – arriving and departing require careful planning – but the mid-’90s decision to make Kamikochi car-free means that the area has flourished in a far more attractive way. During our hike, our guide explains that he carries a Japanese machete as protection against bears, an indigenous population that is pleasingly on the up.
These days, visitors to Kamikochi tend to arrive on the rickety bus. Leaving their cars at Sawando, the nearest settlement, they line up in vast numbers to be transported to the village centre, where the local architecture takes on a more Japanese aspect. Calling it a village might be too much, in fact – it's little more than a collection of hotels and souvenir shops huddled around a particularly popular rope bridge (Kappabashi) – but its location is mesmeric. Seated at the foot of the Hotaka mountain range, it is naturally protected from human interference (its designation as a national park in 1916 helped fend off would-be developers) and summer typhoons (they don't tend to scale the 3,000m summits with much success).
That's not to say the area doesn't suffer from extreme weather; between November 15 and April 27, the roads and hotels are closed in anticipation of heavy snow. 'I came up here once at the dead of winter,' a young worker at my lodge tells me. 'It was amazing. Nobody was here, just me and the mountains... and the snow. It was so deep, the taxi driver wouldn't come much closer than Sawando. I had to hike the rest of the way.' If he hadn't actually seen The Shining, this guy had at least partially lived it.
Travellers to Kamikochi can expect a good selection of hikes, from simple to challenging, each guaranteed a breathtaking series of views that change according to the season. By the time the area shuts down in November, it has already become a snow-lover's ideal vacation, while the summer season is attended by glorious azure skies. Whichever time of the year you choose to visit, it's well worth contacting the local travel bureau (see the Sacred Kamikochi link below) and trying to arrange a hike with Kazunari Okuhara, a septuagenerian who has been hopping around in the Kamikochi hills since he was 18. As mountain men go, he's a peach, albeit one with sun-bruised skin and a tendency to chase wild monkeys mid-sentence.
With Okuhara-san as your guide, every tree has a story. He wears his deep love for the area on his sleeve, and no bridge is crossed without the old man turning and promising it a return visit, bidding it a fond farewell as he would an old friend. Sounds mad? Eccentric, certainly. When I ask him which his favourite peak is, he tells anyone who'll listen that he has climbed Mount Roppyaku 220 times. Then he turns towards the peak and breaks into a loud serenade, ending with what may be a failed attempt to get a decent echo going. Suffice to say, he leaves an impression.
