Experience is a trade-off.
Sometimes you don't get what you were hoping for. But in return, you stumble upon something wonderful in the most unexpected places. I had not caught so much as a glimpse of Mount Fuji at Hotel Mount Fuji — I was right in the middle of that trade-off. And yet, if you keep moving with hope, the world sometimes hands you an unexpected reward out of nowhere. That day, I was about to experience exactly that firsthand.
I checked out of Hotel Mount Fuji and boarded the shuttle bus. Arriving at Fujisan Station, I first picked up a bicycle from a rental shop. When I travel somewhere for the first time, I often get around by bike. I love exploring on foot too, but walking takes time and limits how far you can go. A bicycle lets you cover a wide range, and the moment you encounter a breathtaking view, you can hop off and soak it in right away. I was convinced that in Fujiyoshida City, with its sweeping views of Mount Fuji, a bicycle was the ultimate tool. That hunch turned out to be spot on.
I pedaled my way to Fujiyama Onsen. It was 11 in the morning. The building that came into view had a sense of history just from the outside. Inside, it was extremely quiet — in other words, not crowded at all. And no wonder: Fujiyama Onsen offers a morning bath from 6:30 to 9:00 a.m. for 800 yen, while the regular admission is 2,000 yen. By 11 a.m., the morning-bath crowd had completely cleared out. Cost-wise, the morning bath is the better deal. But if you're after the quality of the experience, you have to do the opposite of the masses. Claim the sauna and cold plunge bath all to yourself during the quietest hours of the day. That's my way.
I checked in at the front desk and headed to the main bath area. The moment I stepped into the bathing hall, I was hit with a jolt.
First, I looked up at the ceiling and lost my words. Far above my head stretched an enormous framework of beams, assembled without a single nail. Zelkova, cypress, pine. The scent of wood mingled with steam and filled my nostrils. Looking up at the main pillars, I was struck by how massively thick they were — zelkova trees over 200 years old, I learned. The ceiling height is 12 meters; the bathing hall spans over 100 tsubo (roughly 330 square meters). I have visited more than 300 facilities over the years, but this was the first time I had ever caught my breath just walking into a bathing room. I was moved before I even got in the water. Could something like this really exist?
But Fujiyama Onsen is not just about the architecture. The hot spring, the sauna, the cold plunge bath — every single element was exceptional.
I stood near the entrance for a while, overwhelmed by the sheer presence of it all, until a regular who seemed to be a local shot me a puzzled look. I came back to my senses and decided to get cleaned up.
First, I warmed my body in the indoor natural hot spring. Fujiyama Onsen's water quality is rare even nationwide — a blend of all spring types: magnesium, calcium, sodium, bicarbonate, sulfate, and chloride. Soaking in the water, I gazed up at the beam framework overhead. The interplay of wooden warmth and steam created something almost breathtaking. Being moved by architecture while sitting in a bath is not an experience you get to have very often.
First set. I headed to FUJIYAMA SAUNA. It's a Finnish sauna with a large iki stove at its center, the lighting turned low, a dark and modern space extending all around. It holds about 20 people, but I was the only one there. The whole place to myself. No TV. An environment where you can quietly sit with your own thoughts. I love this time of morning.
Looking around the sauna room, a mural caught my eye. Apparently it was painted by Tanaka Katuki, the author of the manga Sado — the work that helped ignite Japan's sauna boom. It depicted people enjoying the sauna while doing löyly and gazing at Mount Fuji. I had wanted to enjoy a sauna with a view of Mount Fuji myself, but that hadn't come true yesterday or this morning. At least in this mural, Mount Fuji was visible. Somehow, that alone made me feel a little better.
Once my body was thoroughly heated, I moved to the cold plunge bath. It's fed with natural vanadium water from Mount Fuji, drawn up from 150 meters underground. The temperature is around 13°C, yet it doesn't sting the skin. There's a comfort to it that makes you want to stay in just a little longer. At 13°C with regular tap water, it would sting and you couldn't stay long. This feeling is something you can only experience in a cold plunge bath fed with natural water. The vanadium content is said to be about twice that of commercially available mineral water. I could feel my body rejoicing.
Moving to the outdoor relaxation area, I found about ten chairs arranged in a generously appointed outdoor space lined with beautiful stones. The atmosphere was outstanding. The moment I sat down in a chair, sunlight broke through. I could enjoy sunbathing at the same time. From the very first set, I was enveloped in a sense of bliss that was hard to put into words.
The sun was out — maybe it was going to clear up from here. Maybe I'd even get to see Mount Fuji. My spirits began to lift.
Second set. After the outdoor relaxation area, I soaked in the outdoor natural hot spring. After an exceptional cold plunge and outdoor rest, getting into a hot spring delivers a pleasure that feels almost otherworldly. At facilities with great hot springs, this has become my standard routine. After warming my body slowly, I returned to FUJIYAMA SAUNA.
After sitting for a while warming up, a light illuminated the iki stove. It cycled through red, green, and pale purple before the automatic löyly began. What gets poured in is, of course, Mount Fuji's vanadium water. A pleasant steam filled the sauna room and the perceived temperature shot up all at once. The cold plunge was getting close.
I plunged into the vanadium water cold bath. A crisp coolness washed through my body. 13°C. And yet, somehow, it felt comfortable. I wanted to stay in just a little longer. Probably because my body was so happy. When I collapsed into the outdoor chair, the sunlight washing over me, I lay there in a daze for a while, unable to move.
Third set. I ran through the outdoor relaxation, hot spring, sauna, and cold plunge sequence, and called it a wrap on the morning sauna session. Before leaving the bathing hall, I looked up at that beam framework one last time. I was reluctant to go. This is a place I knew I absolutely had to come back to.
I finished my bath and headed up to the lounge on the third floor.
Beyond the window, there was Mount Fuji.
The mountain that had refused to show itself from yesterday evening until this morning had finally appeared right before my eyes. It was ten times larger than anything I had imagined from photographs. Could it really be this big? And this beautiful? I sat in the post-bath lounge gazing at Mount Fuji for about thirty minutes. I couldn't move.
After a meal at the restaurant, I swung a leg over the bicycle. I set off in the direction of Lake Kawaguchi.
By the time I reached Lake Kawaguchi, the sky had opened up into a deep, clear blue. Crossing Kawaguchiko Ohashi Bridge by bicycle, I stopped again and again to take photographs. Mount Fuji mirrored in the surface of the lake. The blue of the sky and the white of the snow. I thought: can a scene like this really exist in this world?
I pulled up to the lakeshore, parked the bicycle, and sat down on a bench. The view I had always wanted to see was right in front of me. The mountain I had longed and longed to glimpse from yesterday evening until this morning was now standing there in full, unhurried majesty. The feeling was beyond words. For a while, I couldn't think about anything at all.
The dream of enjoying a sauna with a spectacular view of Mount Fuji at Hotel Mount Fuji had not come true. But in its place, I had encountered extraordinary architecture, hot springs, and a sauna at Fujiyama Onsen, witnessed the full face of Mount Fuji for the first time after a bath, and found a view so stunning while cycling around Lake Kawaguchi that I stopped over and over along the way. The fact that some things don't work out means that other things can. Keep moving with hope, and the world will hand you unexpected rewards when you least expect it.
I returned the rental bicycle and savored the spectacular views of Mount Fuji to my heart's content until the sun went down. That was enough. I couldn't ask for more.
Now, the night sauna journey begins. I boarded a Fujikyu Railway train and headed toward my next destination: Yamanashi Tomareru Onsen Yorimichi no Yu, in Tsuru City, Yamanashi Prefecture.
