Fuji-Q Highlands : Investigating Terror

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I had heard of Fuji-Q Highlands in my first visit to Japan. The advertisement did not make me feel confident in the amusement park on the whole – it featured an old animation “loose mouth” character screaming in Japanese to come to Fuji-Q. I passed, and continued to pass until recently, when a group of teachers put together a trip to Fuji-Q to partake of the “scariest” haunted house in all of Japan, if not the world (as certified by the Guinness Book of World Records).

I am not into haunted houses, horror, or being scared. For me, there is no joy in jumping out of my skin, even if I survive the process. If I want to get my adrenaline going, I’ll join in a game of tag or try to teach a lesson without a plan. I was not that keen on going, until Kirsten brought to my attention the presence of “ride” called Ultimate Fortress 2.

An escape-room style fortress building with motion detectors and robots. A 99% failure rate. Tactical style laser-tag like gameplay. Spy craft, sneaking, and sensors? I was in.

We took a bus (far cheaper than the trains – more on that in the logistics below) – just over an hour and a half from Shinjuku station. We left relatively early in the morning, in one of the first sunny days in what felt like weeks. I slept on the way, and awoke to find a stunning view of what was to come:

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Fuji-Q is not just an amusement park – there is a large resort there as well, which is fitting given the view. If you are wanting a weekend away, in the off season the rates did not seem unreasonable. I hadn’t seen Mt. Fuji up close in a long time, and he did not disappoint. Throughout the day he would watch over our antics, screams, and age regression. This started with the Haunted House.

The sheer amount of buildup into getting into the house was unnerving, with signs everywhere promising multiple “escape” points for when the terror got too strong. This buildup was enough to get two of our intrepid party to back out and refuse to enter, despite our gentle “You do you and we respect your decision,  but also come on and be scared with us!”  My nerves were on edge before we even entered the first room and watched the “backstory” of how the hospital we were about to enter into turned into a bone-gnawing, demonically possessed horror house.

I surprised my group by taking point and the flashlight. They knew I did not like horror or terror. My reasoning is that if I have to be concerned about keeping the group together, I won’t focus so much on my own fear. It’s a good distraction for me. So we went through four or five stories of twisted hallways, jump scares, superb foley work and some very well timed effects.

I won’t tell you what we saw. That would ruin the haunted house, and mystery is what makes a haunted house special. Was it the scariest thing I had ever been through? No, but that’s because I was with a group of friends. We kept each other in check, even when we got startled and Shawnali shoved me forward like a she was unleashing a greyhound.

Note: The Haunted House is not included in the day pass ticket. You have to buy a separate ticket, which costs 1000 yen.

Then it was on to Ultimate Fortress 2!

I did not win.

I did not get killed by the robot. I clearly didn’t get the area effect of the laser lights. And I’m not entirely convinced that the second “level” is not intentionally meant to capture everyone. We all had such a good time, and agreed that we could easily repeat the ride, if not for the fact that there were many other rides available.

Fujiyama: The King of Coasters, for example.

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What makes Fujiyama king? It’s the highest roller coaster in the world – the initial fall starts at 79m (237ft). You hit a maximum speed of 130 km/h (about 80mph) and it is a long course. I haven’t been on a real roller coaster in some time, and starting with a coaster that never seems to stop climbing did a number on my system. I’m not quite a brave person – I focused on my hands, and the people in front of me. Occasionally I looked out at Fuji in the distance, eternal and probably laughing at my growing nerves. Once the coaster fell, however, you better believe I had my hands up in the air, and I was joyfully screaming the whole four-minute ride.

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Regaining my voice with some hot lemon tea from a vending machine, we got in line for our second coaster, Takabisha. It looked smaller than Fujiyama (naturally), but it had one thing that I did not like at all – a seeming free fall from a sheer drop. The cars would hang, slightly suspended, over an s-curve before plunging down. In line, I learned that Takabisha is the world’s *steepest* roller coaster, with a drop of 121 degrees (this is also on the website, which I did not read). Note: THEY WILL EMPTY YOUR POCKETS. I had a clipped on ticket – CLIPPED ONTO MY BELT LOOP WITH METAL. They still made me take it off and store it. THESE GUYS DO NOT FOOL AROUND ON THIS!

Once the rides begin, I love them. I hate the build up, the anticipation of climbing. So I was fine with the drop itself, and loved the ride. My anticipation/dread got really bad on the vertical climb up to the drop. I just hated going up on my back, hearing the tick-tick-tick of the chain. It doesn’t help that the drop is in the middle of the ride, rather than at the beginning. Tori, sitting next to me, kept trying to help by gleefully yelling for me to “Look at Fuji! Look at Fuji!” When we got off, I had the literal shakes.

We went on several other rides, but the final ride I’m going to talk about here is Tentekomai, a flying ride. You get into a plane with flexible wings, and as you’re raised to an impressive height and spun around, you flap the wings to make yourself spin. It was fun and terrifying, especially when done correctly. Once you get the g-forces correct, you start spinning without having to do any flapping, and you gain speed. As a short person, I found I did not like spinning as much as I thought, as every time I inverted I left my seat a little and found myself hanging momentarily upside down in the air. Kirsten said she thought she could hear me from the ground.

Did I mention the carousel? They have a nice carousel too – much easier to handle.

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So soothing…

So, day done, we headed back to our bus. All in all, I had an amazing time. It’s been a long time since I’ve been to a big amusement park, and going to one with some many “World’s ****est” rides did not disappoint. If you’re looking for a day trip out of Tokyo, might I suggest going to Fuji-Q Highland? I know I’d like to go back – I didn’t get to ride on Eejenaika, the roller coaster with the most number of spins in the world….

Details

Fuji Q’s English Website – use this to get all sorts of useful information, including closed days and ticket discounts.

Cost: Varies. You can pay by ride (roller coasters are 1000 yen a ride, most other rides are 800 yen, and the kiddie rides are around 500 yen), you can buy a three ride ticket, or an all day pass (5100 yen). I did the all day pass, and I made sure to get my money’s worth. I can see why people buy the 3-ride pass. If all you want is to ride the three big coasters, you’re going to be waiting in line for a long time, and you might only get those three rides. If you want to go to Thomas the Tank Engine land and ride the carousel, the per ride option makes more sense.

Also worth noting is that Fuji-Q closes relatively early for a theme park – around 6pm. With wait times of up to two hours, a day can go by quickly.

There are pay lockers available to store your things during the day. I stored my purse and kept my scannable pass and some money in my metro card holder. A lot of the rides have free lockers to store loose change, keys, and anything that might come out of your pockets.

Transportation: In our case, we took the Keio Highway Bus, but there is also the Fuji-Q Highlands bus. The cost, roundtrip, was 3500 yen. There are train options as well. Look for Fuji-Q Highland Station.

Timing: We went on a Friday holiday, and the lines were not awful. They were there, and the line for the popular coasters was well over an hour. I imagine that in the popular seasons or on weekends the lines are crazy, so if you can swing a weekday trip, that will make things much more bearable.

 

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Nikko: Uphill Preface

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This photo is from my second day in Nikko, when it was still light. I’m uploading from my first night as opposed to my first day, because this story overshadowed my afternoon. And because it was so dark, I have no photos to accompany it, save for this one I took later in my journey.

2km according to Airbnb. 3k according to the message I received from my host and a second Google map search.

What my host failed to mention in any of our correspondence is that however many kilometers it is from the Tobu Nikko train station to his rental, 95% of the journey was uphill. Nikko is a mountain town, but I passed my afternoon on a relatively gentle slope, and the town itself seemed more in the basin than on the inclines.

Not so my accommodation, I realized. I passed the rental one of my fellow teachers recommended (sold out), and kept climbing. I passed the rental that I had cancelled (too many negative reviews), and kept climbing. I ran out of sidewalk, and light. I passed inn after inn, pausing for a moment at each opportunity to stand in a light source and check my photo map. And I kept climbing. I had not stretched or prepped in any way for such exercise. My legs eventually stopped feeling the good kind of tired. I could feel it in my quads – 2 miles uphill was a lot to ask after a day of hiking. They are going to hurt tomorrow.

In the darkness, I could still see the occasional silhouettes of the tall trees around me. It made for a moody walk, and I couldn’t stop thinking about the poisonous spiders, leeches, and other dangerous things that I had recently read live in Japan. I tried not to get too close to the trees and bushes, while also not wandering into the road. And then there was the rain, which I had not minded until I was going solidly uphill in the dark with my poncho draped over my bags to keep them dry. By the by – my poncho is my hero, but also the dumbest inanimate thing. It kept sliding to one side, or getting caught under the front wheel without actually draping over the bag itself. Ugh.

Anger kept me going after the halfway point. I was pissed off that there had been no mention of climbing a mountain in the description of the property, nor in the reviews. A pleasant place, the reviews had said. Beautiful location, the reviews had said. I drafted my own Airbnb review, scathing and full of really beautiful but negative vocabulary. I started wishing horrible things upon the owner for his omissions. Eventually, I lost the anger, and I could feel real fatigue eating at my edges. The closer I got to where I thought I was going, the more I felt like I was going to turn into a blubbering mess from sheer exhaustion. Why had I been so stupid as to hike all day and then go to my lodgings? Why had I not planned better for this?

I passed the house altogether at first because the rain hid the faint Christmas lights. I mistook my rental house for another. Luckily, the second house had a loud, sturdy akita who let me know that I was mistaken. As I tried to leave the stairs, an old man came out to the balcony and asked me something in Japanese – my Japanese is still so weak that I mostly guessed at what he could be asking. I must have cut a pretty pathetic figure – my rain poncho was ineffectively tied around my bags, I was wet, my legs were a little trembly, and I spoke atrocious Japanese.

“Pension?” he asks.
“Airbnb,” I reply, but I recognize the word. For some reason it’s on almost all the hotels I’ve seen thus far. They really like using French here apparently. He disappears and his wife (I assume) comes out. She looks at my phone, and the pair start arguing about the address. In desperation, I turn on my phone’s cellular service. I will pay the (probable) $20 in extra fees for one minute of functioning google translate and a working map.

“Is that address near here?” I put into the phone.
“Ok,” the woman says after reading the translation, and takes off walking in the rain. She is still in her house slippers, and the old man follows. I try to stop them, but I don’t have the words, and when I show the man my google translate for “You don’t have to walk with me, sir. Just point.” He nods and keeps walking.

So there we are, one wet, confused American in a red knit hat, and an old Japanese couple dressed like my great uncle Tom and aunt Dorothy (bless them), each under an umbrella. They get me to the gate of my rental around the block, and I bow as low as I possibly can. I can’t tell, but I bet they were relieved I knew the place. We all reached near epic levels of confusion.

They’re going to be even more confused tomorrow when there’s a bouquet of flowers waiting for them. I passed a florist earlier today, and I’ve been wanting to get flowers for someone lately.

Soaking in the tub, drinking very hot ginger tea, I can feel all my swear words dissipate. I was about ready to quit the whole trip, suck up the financial loss and pay to stay at one of the faux “Euro-style” inns I passed somewhere on the unending incline. The sort that charges hundreds of dollars a night. And I know I’ll be peeved in the morning, as there are no combini around here, and I don’t have wifi so I can’t just go online and do some research. But right now, in my comfortable and warming up rental, I’m simply happy to not be climbing anymore. Tomorrow, I know I’ll get a taxi up here, and walking downhill is going to be so much easier.

Good thing too, as I’m planning to hike up the neighboring mountain…

MVPs of the day:

My red knit hat: I bought it 50% off at a 300 yen shop this morning because it was unexpectedly nippy. It kept my head nice and warm, and though I was only dry because of the umbrella, the hat made me feel quite comfortable.
My flashlight: An LED light from my True Dungeon volunteering, this little guy was a light for me when all other lights went out (yeah, it’s my Elendril light)
My legs. God bless my legs, and forgive me for not stretching them. May they not tense up too much overnight. They did such a good job getting 3k up an unplanned mountain.

Be afraid, Have fun

Quick update: I’ll be uploading several posts within the next few days. I got behind on posting, but I have been writing.

Thus far, orientation appears to be 95%:

  • If you do any of the following, you’ll be fired
  • How to handle low motivation students who don’t want to be in class

And 5%:

  • Have fun and be enthusiastic!

It’s…well, I’m really susceptible to authoritarian language for some reason. I recognize that I don’t want to obey as much as I did when I was an uptight, stalwart teenager, but the vestiges of that are still alive in me. So, when I’m told over and over again that if I lose my red folder I’ll be terminated, the only thing I want to do is lock that folder away and never touch it again. Unfortunately it is the most important thing I need for my job as well, so I feel like I have to carry around a bit of radioactive material with me every day.

The language is interesting – there’s a hard edge to everything, yet it’s all smothered in giggles. Everyone should have fun and never step out of line. I haven’t been here long enough to put my finger on it, but there’s this odd cultural back and forth. I’m watching the veteran teachers shrug off inconsistencies and hard redundancies as “very Japanese.” I don’t know what that means yet, but it’s making for some language that is very at odds with itself. We get rules that are described as both ironclad and unnecessary.  Be afraid. Have fun.

Does this mean the stereotype about Japan having rules for rules sake is not a stereotype?  So far, all I’ve been given are rules I must not break. And they give them repeatedly, and couple them with stories of who got terminated for breaking said rule. Today, for the third day of orientation, I’ll be given a list of classroom procedures that I must do every day…or else? I thought it would be a little more lax – that the unyielding wall of procedures was a smokescreen to weed out those looking for a free trip to Japan. It’s looking less and less like that is true. As our teacher contact put it, “If you can find happiness here, you can survive anywhere.” Yeah. I couldn’t tell if that was a translation issue or not.

I’d say it’s also difficult being the new person. My fellow “new” teachers have all at least taught for my company before, or have taught in Japan. And the veteran teachers say, “But we all know already…” a lot. I stop them every so often, but it’s intimidating, feeling like I’m the one person who doesn’t know what everyone already understands, especially as concerns the cultural divide. I have the least amount of experience teaching ESL, and the least amount of experience teaching in Japan. I keep worrying that I’ll get found out, even though I’m perfectly qualified.

I’m writing this to find a silver lining – like, if I can make this work, then really I can do any job out there. Not just ESL – any job. I’m not going to let all this doom-and-gloom get the better of me. So what if one teacher solemnly looked at me and said, “Oh, you’re working at [redacted]? Good luck, you’ll need it.” I mean, that’s how all the best stories start, right? Going into the break, the wormhole, the maw – that’s how you become a protagonist.

I’ll be happy to get out of here for a day – I’m going to go sightseeing this weekend with one of my new compadres. I need a reminder that I’m across the largest ocean again. The daily sushi simply isn’t enough…