Every country has its own national landmark, but there’s something very special about Fuji—and in this film I wanted to chase the version of Japan that starts to show up when the day-trippers leave. My girlfriend and I leave Tokyo and spend 4 nights around Kawaguchiko: getting picked up from the station (no, this is not a taxi), settling into a traditional ryokan where they give you yukatas, and experiencing service that honestly took the “Japan is nice” stereotype to the next level. We splurged for one night at a $2000/night onsen ryokan, and because we were already spending more than a grand, we went all-in on the kaiseki too—one of the most surreal dining experiences of my life. After the ryokan, the trip shifts into the quieter, non-glorified side of Fuji: a peaceful Airbnb with Mount Fuji just sitting there in the distance, empty streets that feel like a Studio Ghibli movie, vending machines saving us in the midday heat, and the weird reality that most stores close at 5PM. That contrast with Tokyo had me thinking about masks, work culture, and authenticity—how the way we live doesn’t always reflect who we are. We finish out the days cycling around Lake Kawaguchiko, hitting Chureito Pagoda, exploring an ice cave and a forest famous for not the greatest reason, and ending with Fuji-Q roller coasters—jam-packed days that made me rethink what I want in a fulfilling life.