The narrow streets of Hakone end at a tiny combination tourist pier/fishing village.  It is a tired, sleepy place that softly touches Lake Ashi.  The restaurants close for the night at 3pm.  There are eight souvenir shops, a few cafes, one Seven-Eleven convenience store, a half-dozen docks and three large sight-seeing ships.  Hakone is not exactly the nature refuge that I was hoping for, but it is a welcomed change from our thirteen days in concrete jungles.

It takes three attempts to find the only open noodle shop.  It is on the second floor and overlooks the lake.  If the clouds clear, we will be able to see Mt. Fuji.  The lake is a glassy grey shifting with twinkles of bright light.  Sarah makes friends with the local fishermen and one catches a trout just as I arrive.  I take a few photos and then the fisherman goes to his van to retrieve his plastic portfolio of award winning photographs of Mt. Fuji.  We compliment him too much because he begins to pull some of the photos out of the sleeve to give us a gift.  We say “ie-ie-ie” (no,no,no) twenty times and he finally puts them back.  It is tricky in Japan to find the balance between a good sincere compliment and an accolade that will win you an unanticipated, obligatory gift.