Photo Friday #8: Mount Fuji! フォト金曜日＃８：富士山！

フォト金曜日＃８：富士山！Photo Friday #8: Mount Fuji!

In my past Photo Friday posts, I've only shared pictures from Tokyo and Kyoto. Admittedly, that's where I've spent most of my time in Japan, but there's much more to the country than those two cities! With that in mind, today's post takes a trip out of town, with a look at one of Japan's most famous sights:

富士山: Fujisan (Mount Fuji)

A UNESCO World Heritage Site, Fujisan (or Mount Fuji) is located about 80 miles southwest of Tokyo, and can be seen from there on a clear day. With its iconic snow-capped peak, travel to Mount Fuji and its prefectures of Yamanashi and Shizuoka spikes during its official climbing season in July and August. However, views of Fujisan aren't limited to summer hikers: the view in the photo above is similar to one that many tourists will get to see themselves, especially if a trip on the Tokaido Shinkansen is on their itinerary.

Even during Japan's Edo period (1603-1868), Tokyo (then called Edo) and Kyoto were major cities in Japan. The coastal road connecting the two important cities was known as the Tokaido (東海道 : literally "East Sea Road"), and back then, travel along the road was mostly by foot. With the appropriate government documentation, a traveler could walk--or be carried via kago, the jinrikisha's predecessor--from one end to the other, provided the 514 kilometer (or 319 mile) trek wasn't too daunting. Along with the JR Tokaido Main Line, the Tokaido Shinkansen route loosely follows the original Tokaido road...although thanks to shinkansen speeds of up to 300 km/h (186 mph), the journey from Tokyo to Kyoto now takes hours rather than weeks.

Hokusai's "The Great Wave off Kanagawa"

As with the Edo period, Fujisan is easily the most recognizable landmark on today's modern Tokaido route. Not only is it hard to miss as Japan's tallest point at 3,776 meters (12,388 feet--or 2.3 miles), its likeness has also been reproduced countless times in art and photographic prints. Perhaps the greatest contributor to the worldwide appreciation of Mount Fuji comes from artist Katsuhika Hokusai (1760-1849), whose ukiyo-e series "36 Views of Mount Fuji" (富嶽三十六景) helped make Mount Fuji a household name. The series' most popular print is actually its first piece, "The Great Wave off Kanagawa," pictured here. (I have a poster of it hanging in my old bedroom at my mom's house in central Indiana, so I think it's safe to say that Hokusai's art is far-reaching.)

Fujisan's sheer magnitude and beauty has called to people from all walks of life--not just artists and writers--for centuries. The area is believed to have great spiritual power, and the mountain is sacred to the Japanese Shinto and Buddhist religions. Aokigahara (青木ヶ原), a dense forest at Mount Fuji's northwest base, is also (in)famous for being a popular place to commit suicide, and the ghosts of the victims reportedly haunt the trees.

Other modern-day controversies plaguing the area are concerns about garbage littering Mount Fuji's paths, illegally discarded by hikers and others, as well as questions involving when the volcano will erupt again, with at least one estimate naming this year as a possibility. It's easy to forget that Fujisan is indeed an active volcano, as its last eruption was recorded centuries ago in December 1707.

A classically Japanese landmark, seeing Mount Fuji for the first time--even while speeding past on a shinkansen--is truly awe-inspiring. In future trips to Japan, I'm definitely hoping to get a closer look at Fujisan. I won't claim that I plan on climbing it--that's a bit ambitious for a non-hiker like me!--but I'd love to see it while relaxing at onsen in Hakone, or view it during a ride on the Mount Tenjo ropeway. Mount Fuji is such a culturally significant site that merely passing by at 186 miles per hour just doesn't seem to do it justice.

Photo Friday #7: Harajuku shopping! フォト金曜日＃７：原宿の買い物！

フォト金曜日＃７：原宿の買い物！Photo Friday #7: Harajuku shopping!

Last week, I wrote about Chinzan-so Garden, the serene urban oasis in Tokyo's Bunkyo ward. When thinking of Japan's capital, however, one is probably more apt to picture things that better invoke visions of a bustling metropolis: packed commuter trains, heavy traffic, and rows of skyscrapers that seem to go on forever. For today's Photo Friday post, I'm sharing a view from the ground of one of Tokyo's countless streets--albeit one that isn't for cars:

竹下通り、原宿: Takeshita-dori (Takeshita Street), Harajuku - March 23, 2013

In keeping with Japan's retail culture, Takeshita-dori is one of Tokyo's pedestrian-only shopping streets. A short walk from Harajuku Station on the Yamanote Line, this area is where fashionistas come to play, spending their yen on everything from crepes to false eyelashes to selfie sticks. While Takeshita-dori lacks the polished, upscale aesthetic of Omotesando-dori, the popular neighboring road to the south, it and its many side streets form the true heart of Japanese street fashion and counterculture. It's gritty, it's crowded, it's noisy...it's effortlessly cool.

Bordered by the gorgeous green spaces of Meiji Jingu (or Meiji Shrine) and Yoyogi Park on its western edge, Harajuku's innumerable tiny shops on narrow alleys help fuel the rise of the hottest Japanese fashion trends. From decora to visual kei to sweet lolita, there's a little something for everyone. And if you're less into style and more into comfort (and cheekiness), you can still find an irreverent new T-shirt like I did, designed by Gokigen Factory.

In recent years, Harajuku has received a lot of attention, due in part to publicity from western entertainers. In her 2004 solo debut "Love. Angel. Music. Baby." Gwen Stefani heavily referenced Harajuku (though unfortunately mispronouncing it), drawing inspiration from its unique fashion scene. She co-wrote the song "Harajuku Girls" and hired four Japanese backup dancers--also known as the Harajuku Girls, going by the names Love, Angel, Music, and Baby--to appear with her in music videos, on tour, and in interviews. Even her fashion brands, particularly Harajuku Lovers, showcase her affection for the area.

Not surprisingly, Stefani's affinity for Harajuku is also shared by other pop songstresses. Lady Gaga always makes it a point to visit Dog--one of the many boutiques tucked away in basements--when she's in Tokyo; Nicki Minaj celebrates Harajuku's eclectic style with one of her alter egos; and just last week, Katy Perry was seen in the area wearing a fuzzy mask, akin to those made by gonoturn, with a schoolgirl outfit. (The article claims it was a "'look-at-me' ensemble," but honestly, it was pretty mild [dare I say...basic?] compared to most things seen every day in Harajuku.)

Western celebrities aren't the only ones highlighting Harajuku: from fashion blogger to model to singer, Kyary Pamyu Pamyu has evolved into an international superstar, casting a spotlight on Harajuku in the process. With viral hits like PONPONPON, her debut album, もしもし原宿 ("Moshi Moshi Harajuku"), came out in 2011; since then, she's released three more albums, and continues to work with Yasutaka Nakata (the producer of Japanese bands Capsule and Perfume). She's absolutely everywhere in Japan, appearing on variety shows, in magazines, and in commercials. I'm not ashamed to say that the decision to buy the New Nintendo 3DS while I was in Japan was strongly influenced by Kyary's Nintendo ads. かわいい だ よ！

In the 2009 video below, you'll see a 16-year-old Kyary ("Carrie" in the subtitles) on the streets in Harajuku...and then at home, quarreling with her mother about her fashion choices. After interviewing Kyary, the program profiles an American expat who fell in love with lolita fashion while stateside. And, bonus: five minutes in, you'll meet Minori, the most popular shironuri artist today. (Be sure to watch from 6:50 til the end for more Harajuku looks, too!)

With Shinjuku Station--the world's busiest train station--two stops to the north and Shibuya Station--a bishoujo/bishounen shopping mecca--one stop to the south on the Yamanote Line, Harajuku and Takeshita-dori may seem like a blip on the average tourist's radar. Sure, Harajuku Station is a little grungier than others, and the area holds the dubious honors of both being the only place I saw a rat in Japan (apparently rats love crepes too!) and the only place I felt threatened (ok, but let's keep it relative: it's still Japan, so the passing fear I felt on that random back street is still less than the fear I feel in my own U.S. neighborhood), but visiting Harajuku gives you a raw, firsthand look at the youthful undercurrent of modern Japanese society, far removed from anything you'll see in America.

...well, maybe you will see it in America, but it'll be five years from now--ten if you're here in the midwest--and Japan will have already cycled through a dozen new trends by then.

Photo Friday #6: Chinzan-so Garden! フォト金曜日＃６：椿山荘！

フォト金曜日＃６：椿山荘！Photo Friday #6: Chinzan-so Garden!

In the past two Photo Friday posts, I contrasted old with new in Kyoto, showing that there's more to the nation's former capital than just temples and teahouses. But what of Tokyo? As I've mentioned in a past post featuring Ueno Park, Tokyo isn't just a concrete jungle: throughout the city are numerous green spaces and parks, and innumerable shrines can be found wedged between skyscrapers and houses. In this week's Photo Friday post, I take a look at another favorite urban oasis:

椿山荘: Chinzan-so Garden

I initially discovered Chinzan-so not because of its gardens, but because of its lodging. Prior to our first trip to Japan in March 2013, we (somewhat spontaneously) took advantage of a deal from Globotours we saw on LivingSocial. Included in the travel package was a round-trip flight from LAX to Narita with Singapore Airlines, plus a stay for a few nights at Hotel Chinzan-so Tokyo, which had just rebranded from a Four Seasons hotel to an independent hotel. As frugal people, we normally wouldn't get to experience something like this--we typically stick to budget airlines and lodging--so we jumped at the chance.

Located in the Sekiguchi area of Tokyo's Bunkyo ward, Chinzan-so and its surroundings--once known as Tsubaki-yama (椿やま), or Camellia Hill--have a rich history. 17th century haiku poet Basho lived nearby, no doubt drawing inspiration from the wild camellias and rolling hills. In the 19th century, ukiyo-e artist Ando Hiroshige featured the area in his series One Hundred Famous Views of Edo (名所江戸百景) in the April 1857 woodblock print Basho's Hermitage and Camellia Hill on the Kanda Aqueduct at Sekiguchi (せき口上水端はせを庵椿やま).

Hiroshige's depiction of Camellia Hill

Shortly after being featured in Hiroshige's work, Yamagata Aritomo--an Imperial Army Field Marshal and Japanese Prime Minister--bought the land in 1878, giving it the name Chinzan-so, or "House of Camellia." In addition to his military and political accomplishments, he enjoyed Japanese garden design as a hobby (otherwise seen at Murin-an in Kyoto), and so began shaping the land into the Chinzan-so we know today.

In 1918, Yamagata willed the land to Baron Fujita Heitaro, head of a construction company, who then began decorating the gardens with artifacts from across the nation, most notably a shrine and a three-story pagoda. The Shiratama Inari Shrine (白玉稲荷神社) was relocated in 1924 from Shimogamo-jinja in Kyoto (and is watched over by a Fushimi Inari Taisha deity!), and you can receive your fortune via omikuji (御神籤) from a coin-operated machine there. The pagoda Entsukaku (圓通閣), as seen in the photo above, was moved in 1925 from Chikurin-ji Temple in the mountains of Hiroshima; it was said to have been constructed without nails by Chikurin-ji monks either during the Heian (794-1185) or Muromachi (1338-1573) periods.

Other relics can be found throughout the gardens--stone lanterns, monuments, and more--which the hotel plots on maps both online and on hard copies for guests. With World War II came the destruction of much of the gardens, though the pagoda, shrine, and 500-year-old sacred tree were spared. Reconstruction on the gardens began in 1948, and upkeep on the grounds and its structures continues today.

As you can tell from the smattering of autumnal colors in the photo above, this picture wasn't taken during our first trip to Japan: we returned to the hotel and gardens for a night's stay in December 2014, as a treat during our honeymoon. It seemed appropriate, as Chinzan-so is not only famous for its gardens and hotel, but today also functions as one of Tokyo's most popular wedding sites, offering both Western and Shinto ceremonies. During both of our stays at the hotel, we caught glimpses of a few wedding ceremonies; they're so common that you can see a wedding party in the bottom right corner of the photo above!

Replete with historical artifacts--albeit relocated--the gardens' 17 acres are a picturesque haven from the hustle and bustle of Tokyo, and the opulent hotel offers elegant accommodations and an exceedingly friendly, hospitable staff. It's also relatively easy to access: it's a (somewhat steep) 10 minute walk from the nearby subway station, Tokyo Metro's Edogawabashi Station on the Yurakucho Line, or a (somewhat long) 30 minute walk from Mejiro Station on the Yamanote Line. (After a few of those 1.5 mile walks from Mejiro Station--on an unwittingly broken ankle, I might add--we wisened up and learned how to use the buses, a cheaper option than a ~¥750 taxi ride.)

Taking a leisurely stroll through the gardens, walking under the waterfall, gazing at the serene pond...it's all a refreshing change of pace after experiencing sensory overload in places like Shinjuku and Shibuya. Indeed, aside from the skyscrapers looming in the background, it's easy to forget that you're still in the city. Just like there's more to Kyoto than just temples and teahouses, there's more to Tokyo than just concrete and neon.

Photo Friday #5: Kyoto Station! フォト金曜日＃５：京都駅！

フォト金曜日＃５：京都駅！Photo Friday #5: Kyoto Station!

If you're a regular visitor here, you'll notice that I like to discuss how Japan's juxtaposition of old and new makes the country a fascinating place to explore. As a Millennial American, I come from a country that was still adding states to its roster after my parents were born, so the fact that Japan's oldest companies have been in business for more than a millennium is a concept almost too foreign to comprehend.

In previous Photo Friday posts, I've shared some of my photos of Kyoto with you: first, we visited Heian-jingu, a "new" shrine by Japanese standards; then, we explored Kinkaku-ji at Rokuon-ji and learned about its rich history. Although both of these historic sites feature new construction--fires are problematic for wooden structures!--they're still basically indistinguishable from centuries-old shrines and temples. If I only shared photos of Kyoto's traditional architecture, I'd only be doing you a great disservice and furthering stereotypes about the city. With that in mind, here's this week's photo:

京都駅: Kyoto Station

Considering my previous posts, you might think this is a photo of a busy train station in Tokyo, but it's actually a shot of the interior of Kyoto Station (京都駅 or Kyoto-eki), taken in March 2013. Modern and bustling at all hours of the day, this structure stands in stark contrast to how many people, even today, view Kyoto: it's not all temples, teahouses, and geisha.

The first Kyoto Station opened by imperial decree in 1877, and since then has undergone several facelifts and additions, whether out of necessity--as the station was destroyed by fire in 1950--or modernization--as the subway line opened in 1981. Built in honor of the 1,200th anniversary of Kyoto's founding as the capital of Japan, today's Kyoto Station--its fourth iteration, opened in 1997--is a result of a design contest won by Japanese architect and professor Hiroshi Hara. All of the contest entries were modern in design, and as this 1991 article from The New York Times explains, not everyone was happy about it: its detractors claimed that its ultramodern design didn't represent the old soul of the city, but its supporters argued that such a bold look was necessary to keep the city abreast of changing times.

The photo above is a view of Kyoto Station's Karasuma Gate, the north side of the station, as seen from a couple floors up near Cafe du Monde and Mister Donut. It's busier than the Hachijo Gate on the station's south side, and offers lots of things to see: it's home to Porta and The Cube, two underground shopping malls; an 11-story Isetan Department Store (with two underground levels); souvenir shops and convenience stores; hotels and restaurants; a post office; and the city's bus terminal. In the winter months, the station can get quite chilly, especially in this section: it's open to the elements, and even clerks and shopkeepers wear coats inside their stores.

Google Maps version of a typical Kyoto tourist map

For many Kyoto tourists, Kyoto Station sits at the bottom, or south end, of much of where they'll do their sightseeing, as many of Kyoto's temples, shrines, and places of interest lie northward. Indeed, most of the tourist maps provided free of charge in Kyoto show the station as one of the southernmost areas. The map to the left approximates a real-world view of these tourist maps, which are sometimes squished to fit on a certain size paper or pamphlet. I've added markers for a few places I've discussed here on meauxtaku: the yellow marker at the top is Kinkaku-ji, the brown marker to the southeast is Heian Shrine, the red marker southeast of center is Kyoto Station, and the orange marker southeast of Kyoto Station is Fushimi Inari Taisha. To give you an idea of scale, it's just over four miles (as the crow flies) from Kyoto Station to Kinkaku-ji. Between the city buses, subway, and trains operating out of Kyoto Station, reaching any of these places is a breeze.

Despite the controversy of building such a state-of-the-art structure in a city known for its antediluvian architecture and traditions, Kyoto Station provides the perfect place to disembark on a Kyoto journey: its glass and steel facade is the shining face of modern Japan, its innumerable shops and stores a staggering testament to the country's retail culture...but walk a few minutes in any direction and you're sure to stumble upon one of Kyoto's thousands of shrines and temples, transporting you to bygone eras rooted in ancient rituals. History is alive and well in Kyoto, but thanks to structures like Kyoto Station, perhaps no other city in Japan offers such a stark contrast between archaic and futuristic.

Photo Friday #4: Kinkaku-ji! フォト金曜日＃４：金閣寺！

フォト金曜日＃４：金閣寺！Photo Friday #4: Kinkaku-ji! 

April showers bring May flowers! Spring rain and thunderstorms have finally--well, hopefully!--replaced snow here in the midwest. On rainy, overcast days like these, I'm reminded of my first trip to Japan: during our stay in Kyoto in March 2013, it rained nearly every day. We didn't let that dampen our spirits, though; the rain kept many visitors away from Kyoto's picturesque shrines and temples, leaving us to enjoy their quietude and tranquility. As a plus, we were able to take a lot of great photos without throngs of tourists in them, like this one...

金閣寺: Kinkaku-ji (Golden Pavilion)

In a previous Photo Friday post, I wrote about Heian Shrine, a Kyoto landmark in the Okazaki area. It's been referenced in popular culture and is classified as an important cultural property of Japan. However, few places are as iconic and recognizable as Kinkaku-ji, seen in the photo above: it's Kyoto's most visited temple and its grounds are a UNESCO World Heritage Site, known worldwide for its opulent golden structure and Muromachi period gardens. Located a few miles north-northwest of Kyoto Station, it's easily accessible by city bus, taxi, or a healthy walk from nearby subway stations.

At the foot of the Kitayama Mountains, the site of Kinkaku-ji originally functioned not as a sacred place of worship, but as an expanse of rice fields. A wealthy politician named Saionji Kintsune purchased the land from a court noble and built Kitayama-dai--his sprawling family residence and shrine--there in 1224, but it fell into disrepair as his family's influence and wealth dwindled under the new shogunate. Saionji's descendants eventually sold the property to Shogun Ashikaga Yoshimitsu in 1397, who lived out his retirement amidst the tranquil reflective ponds. Ashikaga had grand plans for the compound as he worked to restore the estate to its former glory, constructing several buildings on the grounds, including the Golden Pavilion. He planned to cover the entire pavilion in gold leaf, but only managed to coat the top floor's ceiling before his sudden death in 1408.

In accordance with Ashikaga's will--as was often the tradition of these times--the area was then converted to a Zen Buddhist temple of the Rinzai sect and called Rokuon-ji (鹿苑寺, or Deer Garden), taking its name from Ashikaga's posthumous name. (Indeed, Rokuon-ji is the temple's official name, but since the Golden Pavilion is its most famous aspect, the nickname Kinkaku-ji is more commonly known.)

Like many other Kyoto temples, fires destroyed the buildings on the temple grounds through the years, most notably during the Onin War. The Golden Pavilion is the only remaining structure of Ashikaga's estate--and even it was destroyed by fire, most recently in 1950, when a crazed monk burned it down. When it was rebuilt in 1955, more gold leaf was added to the exterior. The gold leaf, while an obvious symbol of wealth and luxury, also carries a symbolic meaning: it's meant to alleviate and purify thoughts and effects of death.

Today the Golden Pavilion continues to function as a shari-den, or reliquary, housing sacred Buddhist relics within. The pavilion itself is not open to the public, but visitors to the temple grounds can peek inside the first story windows for a glimpse of statues of Ashikaga and the Historical Buddha. Visitors will also notice that each of the pavilion's three stories display distinct architectural styles, masterfully blending contrasting styles into one cohesive structure.

To me, Kinkaku-ji's architecture represents a lot of what I've observed of the whole of Japan and its culture: paradoxes and anachronisms are often seen side-by-side, but rather than seeming out of place, they reach a harmonious coexistence. It's something that isn't often seen here in the U.S., and I'll enjoy exploring these observations in future posts.

Photo Friday #3: Ueno Park hanami! フォト金曜日＃３：上野公園花見！

フォト金曜日＃３：上野公園花見！Photo Friday #3: Ueno Park hanami! 

As I wrote in Wednesday's Mini Post, the sakura (cherry blossoms) have opened in Tokyo! This week's Photo Friday entry takes a look at what Ueno Park will look like in a few days, when the sakura reach their peak...

Geisha performing amidst Ueno Park's sakura, March 23, 2013

Though Ueno Park opened to the public in 1873, hanami (flower-viewing) is a centuries-old tradition, stretching back to Japan's Nara and Heian periods (794-1185) when the Japanese elite first enjoyed parties under blossoming ume (plum) and sakura trees. Since then, hanami and sakura have become an important part of Japanese history and pop culture, from inclusion in The Tale of Genji to seasonal drinks at Starbucks.

As you can see in the photo above, Ueno Park, Japan's most-visited public city park, is one of the most popular spots in Tokyo for hanami. Every year, millions of people come to Ueno Park and its surrounding areas to see thousands of cherry trees in bloom. Nearby Ueno Station and Keisei Ueno Station become flooded with visitors, slowly walking shoulder-to-shoulder as they make their way to the park.

Once at the park, visitors are treated to traditional dance and music under millions of blooms, with picnickers enjoying delicious bento, sake, and beer on tarps or tatami mats. In the photo above, onlookers enjoy a performance by geisha, a rare treat in modern Japanese society. (Contrary to how Japan is sometimes portrayed, geisha aren't a common sight. During this trip, I briefly saw one on a Kyoto side street, presumably making her way to an appointment.)

I like this photo because it shows that foreign tourists aren't the only people fascinated by geisha; the entertainers are a bit of a dying breed, as fewer girls enter the profession in these modern times. Catching a glimpse of such a quintessentially Japanese sight, framed by sakura, was truly moving--and definitely worth missing our flight back to the U.S.

Photo Friday #2: Heian Shrine! フォト金曜日＃２：平安神宮！

フォト金曜日＃２：平安神宮！Photo Friday #2: Heian Shrine!

Happy Friday...and happy spring! March 20 is the vernal equinox, bringing with it the promise of warmer weather for the northern hemisphere. For today's Photo Friday post, I'm again looking back to two years ago today, during my first trip to Japan. Two years ago we were in Kyoto, and we spent the first day of spring shrine-hopping:

平安神宮：Heian-jingu (Heian Shrine)

March 20, 2013 was a day much like today: though it was the first day of spring in Kyoto, there was a chill in the air, and the skies were overcast and rainy. After breakfast at Kyoto Station--donuts from MisDo and coffee from Cafe du Monde--we hopped on a city bus and set off to visit Shinto shrines and Buddhist temples.

Shinto is Japan's most enduring religion, and along with Buddhism, it continues to be an important part of Japanese life and culture today. When in Japan, there's no place quite like Kyoto so well-known for its connection to Shinto and Buddhism: one could spend weeks in the city just visiting shrines and temples. They're absolutely everywhere, and they're known the world over. Having seen so many photos and references to Heian Shrine in popular culture (scenes from Lost in Translation and Memoirs of a Geisha come to mind), I knew we had to see it for ourselves.

Heian Shrine in Okazaki, Kyoto wasn't the first Shinto shrine we visited, but it was among the newest: the shrine was actually built in 1895 to commemorate the 1100th anniversary of the founding of Japan's capital Heian (Heian being one of many of Kyoto's former names), and honors the spirits of the first and last emperors to rule Japan from Kyoto. Heian Shrine is a scale model of the original Imperial Palace built in 794, which was destroyed by fire in 1227. Fires were a problem for Kyoto's wooden shrines even into the 20th century, as a 1976 fire destroyed several structures at Heian Shrine. Donations were collected, and the buildings were rebuilt three years later.

I really enjoy this photo I took on the grounds of Heian Shrine, with a little girl playing in the gravel as her parents continued ahead. We enjoyed watching the family perform temizu, the ritual Shinto purification, and wondered what it would be like to be raised in a city steeped in such history and tradition. (To put it into perspective, the American city where I currently live was chosen as the state's capital in 1820 and is looking forward to its bicentennial in 2020, but Kyoto became Japan's capital in 794, and was the Imperial capital of Japan for over 1,000 years!)

The grounds were practically empty that day, as it was a rainy weekday afternoon, so it had an especially serene, spiritual feel. Although I've only visited a fraction of Kyoto's shrines--some say they number close to 2,000!--I would definitely recommend visiting Heian Shrine. Here, you can get a feel of what Imperial life must have been like centuries ago, and as you stroll through its iconic gardens, you'll forget you're in the middle of a major metropolitan city.

Photo Friday! フォト金曜日！(ﾉ^▽^)ﾉ*:・ﾟ✧

フォト金曜日！Photo Friday!

Every Friday here at meauxtaku.com, I'm going to be posting a picture I took in Japan. I'm not a professional photographer by any means--I took them with my iPhone!--but I hope my pictures will help bring my stories and experiences to life. I'm particularly excited about this week's photo, as I took it two years ago today (!) during my first visit to Japan. This being the inaugural Photo Friday, it seemed appropriate to choose an extra touristy one; indeed, this famous landmark was one of the first places I visited in Tokyo:

東京タワー : Tokyo Tower

This is a picture I took of Tokyo Tower, one of many Japanese tributes to France and its culture. Open since 1958, it has also become an icon of Japanese culture in its own right: Tokyo Tower has its own mascots (Conehead-esque brothers named Noppon); its own emoji (no, that's not a red and white Eiffel Tower on your phone!); and has appeared in countless anime, manga, TV shows, and movies. Located in Tokyo's Shiba-koen district in Minato, it's used to broadcast radio and TV signals, and also offers breathtaking vistas of the sprawling city below. On a clear day, Mount Fuji (roughly 135 kilometers, or 80 miles away) can be seen from the tower's observation decks. Under the tower is Foot Town, a department store of sorts--after all, it wouldn't be Tokyo without shopping!--offering souvenir shops, restaurants and cafes, a convenience store, an aquarium, an amusement park, and other tourist attractions.

Admittance to the upper reaches of the tower is granted upon paying an entrance fee to access the level of one's choice: at the time of writing, adult fees are 900 yen for the Main Observatory, 150 meters high; 700 yen for the Special Observatory, 250 meters high; or 1,600 yen for both levels. Speedy elevators are available, but ambitious visitors can choose to climb more than 600 steps from Foot Town's roof to reach the Main Observatory.

For tourists unafraid of heights, Lookdown Window is located on the Main Observatory's first floor, and it's exactly what it sounds like: it's a pane of glass laid in the floor, offering a view of the ground from around 48 stories up. (I wasn't brave enough to stand on it, but that's actually encouraged; Tokyo Tower's own website even dares you to "jump as high as you can" on it. Pass!) If the thrill of Lookdown Window is a little too much for you, find peace on the second floor of the Main Observatory; it houses the Great Shinto Shrine of the Tower, the "tallest" shrine in Tokyo, where people come to pray for success with love and school.

At night, Tokyo Tower is certainly hard to miss: not only is it the second highest structure in Tokyo (surpassed only by the newer communications tower, Tokyo Skytree, in Sumida), but depending on the month, holiday, or season, it's illuminated with a variety of lighting effects. While walking from our Tamachi hotel to midnight mass at St. Alban's Episcopal Church in Minato this past Christmas Eve, we were treated to a gorgeous view of the tower lit in whites, blues, and reds with a heart icon on the side of the observation deck; a few days later, we got to see "2015" illuminated on the tower in honor of the new year.

Is it a tourist trap? Well, yes, a bit. But visiting Tokyo Tower should be one of your first stops in Tokyo--not just because it's a famous sightseeing spot, but because it's a great introduction to Japanese culture. Seeing the city from such a high vantage point helps you appreciate just how huge Tokyo really is, making you realize that you're not in Kansas Indiana anymore.