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This Serendipitous Journey Filled with Coincidences and Fortune

This trip, which we casually talked about just a week earlier with a “Shall we go, bro?” never had a clear decision made—even on the day before leaving. I left home around 6:30 or 7:00 a.m. with just a spare outfit or two, a small camera bag, and the little money I thought would be enough. I stepped outside like a child who didn’t know the weight of the journey ahead.

I arrived at East Shizuoka Station (東静岡駅) and met my travel companion, Savinda Perera, for the first time. As we had planned the day before, we boarded a train from Shizuoka to Fujinomiya. The bread and snacks he picked up from a convenience store, along with some water, were our only food for the journey. That day turned out to be a stormy one, filled with heavy rain—not an ideal day to climb Mount Fuji. The only thing I had thoughtfully prepared was a raincoat good enough to endure the weather.

From Fujinomiya Station, we took a bus through a beautiful green forest and by 11:00 a.m. we had reached the starting point of the climb. Wearing our raincoats, we set off thinking that if we could finish the hike quickly, we’d return the same day, and if not, we’d stay overnight and return the next morning. We had no idea where we’d stop or how. We didn’t even have a tent. The only thing we had to reassure ourselves was the phrase: “We’ll figure something out, bro.”

At times, the rain poured down heavily; at other times, the fog surrounded us. But the scenic beauty around us distracted us from the fatigue. At one point, I even felt like Mount Fuji was welcoming us warmly. I’m used to walking slowly, so I had trouble keeping up with my friend’s pace, and for much of the hike, we were separated by nearly a kilometer.

By around 4:00 p.m., with thunder and the roar of rain all around, we had covered more than half the distance. Hungry and exhausted, we entered a small lodge and grabbed two rice and curry meals and two beers. We spent half an hour there, sharing our thoughts about what we had experienced so far. Just as another wave of heavy rain approached, we resumed the journey, driven by a strong determination to reach the summit that very day.

From this point, our story touches the edge between life and death. There was a moment when I truly felt like I might die. I made peace with the idea of dying, but I couldn’t accept what it would do to my loved ones. That final 2-kilometer stretch to the summit, with storm winds, rain, falling ice pellets, and lightning crashing around us, was the most intense experience of my life. Unfortunately, I couldn’t capture it with my camera, as we feared using electronic devices during lightning strikes. That experience is etched in my memory forever.

The rain pouring so heavily that I couldn’t see ahead, and streams of water running down the trail, felt like life itself trying to teach me how to push through adversity and reach my goal with strength. Drenched and shivering from the cold, my body stiffened. After nearly an hour of climbing, I finally reached the summit shelter. I couldn’t see anyone around due to the rain, but as I approached, the lodge owner stepped out and humbly invited me in, like someone welcoming a hero who had just won a tough battle.

Inside, I removed my raincoat and dropped my soaked bag on the floor. My eyes were fixed on the window, hoping to see my friend appear from the storm. I had arrived just 10 minutes earlier. But the storm got worse, and visibility dropped to near zero. Thirty minutes passed, and still no sign of my friend. My heart began to ache like a parent who’s lost a child. The cold water running down my body was warmed only by the fear that my friend might not make it. Despite that fear, I kept hoping to see him.

And then, after 45 long minutes, I saw him in the distance—clutching a 100-yen white raincoat, walking through the storm. The joy I felt cannot be explained. It felt like a father seeing his child for the first time. I welcomed him inside with trembling hands and a full heart. The Japanese people nearby only said one word: “Abunai yo” (It was dangerous). Yes, it truly was.

Darkness fell at the summit. The storm hadn’t calmed, and we had no choice but to stay the night. But the fee was 10,000 yen per person, and we only had enough for one. We were deeply troubled, but what happened next was nothing short of a miracle. The lodge owner said, “With this storm and darkness, you can’t go back down. Stay here tonight—we’ll figure out the money later.” I hadn’t expected such kindness in a foreign country, and that gesture still stays in my heart.

He showed us where to keep our bags and wet clothes, gave us slippers, and pointed to a place to sleep. I hadn’t packed much else, and even the extra clothes I had were soaked. My friend had at least prepared better and had dry clothes for the night. We sat in the corner, trying to warm up, eating the last of our buns. It wasn’t satisfying, but it was all we had.

Ten minutes later, my friend, light as a child, fell into a deep sleep. I, unable to sleep, wrestled with the worries: How would we pay? How would we afford breakfast tomorrow? One figure came to mind—Dylan Wickrama, the adventurer behind “Life On Wheels” and “Bridget’s Brave Daughter.” 

His YouTube channel inspired me to see challenges not as obstacles but as beautiful experiences.

Several connected cellular data devices were found at the mountaintop. My friend Sahan Weeraman connected to one of them and, in a tone of deep emotion, said, “Machan, we’ve come on a legendary trip.” He said this while I shared everything we had experienced on the journey up to that point—not because he was the only one I could share it with, but because he was the only one who could truly understand the beauty of the experience.

“Machan, let’s do something,”—those words of his, both then and now, wherever I go, meant more to me than just a motivational phrase. Though it was already past midnight, I, who had still been tossing and turning without falling asleep, finally drifted off to the sound of the heavy rain, his soft snoring, and the warmth of his body under the futon blanket.

By sunrise, everyone around us had woken up, ready to head out and experience the morning glow. It was around 4:30 a.m. I think my friend and I were also woken by their faint voices. After getting up and looking around for a bit, we too got ready to leave the place and enjoy the sunrise with the others.

Wearing the same damp clothes from the previous day, we began packing our belongings amid the morning cold, braving the chilly air with shaking fingers. While we were getting ready, the lodge owner approached us, wondering how we would settle the payment. At that point, both my friend and I were unsure what to do. We checked all our wallets. By sheer luck and fortune, one of my friend’s digital wallets still had a balance of ¥10,000.

He had ¥3,000 in cash, and I had ¥7,000. We combined the money and paid the cost of one night’s stay via his wallet. Though we were clueless about what to do at first, we managed to overcome that challenge.

Breakfast had been prepared for all the guests by the lodge owners. Though it was a typical Japanese meal and not enough to fully satisfy our hunger, it was enough to ease our morning appetite. Unexpectedly, everything that had seemed uncertain began to fall into place in this journey.

Watching the sunrise was never a part of our original plan for climbing Mount Fuji. But that opportunity appeared as if by magic. The typhoon had calmed. After finishing breakfast and thanking the lodge owner from the bottom of our hearts for all the help, we left the lodge.

The sky, painted a soft red, the cloud layer below us, and the distant glow of the rising sun created a sight too beautiful to put into words. All the struggles, stumbles, losses, rejections, and silent heartbreaks I had faced in life up to that point seemed to melt away as I stood at the peak of Japan’s tallest mountain. This divine beauty surrounding me at the summit brought a sense of renewal deep into my soul.

Sitting on a rock at the mountaintop, my friend and I quietly watched the sunlight spreading across the sky, in awe of how time passed without us even noticing. We were experiencing the reward of all our effort and endurance.

Yesterday, we had been soaked to the bone. Every single item we carried was damp and heavy from the cold rain—except, miraculously, the box of firewood, which stayed dry. That said, standing on top of Japan’s highest peak, setting up a small portable stove, and taking in the breathtaking scenery made that moment even warmer and more beautiful.

As the sun rose, a light drizzle began to fall a little while later. The soft, cold raindrops combined with the morning sunlight to gift us an extraordinary moment. On one side was the sunrise, and on the other side, two stunning rainbows. In between stood the two of us, running around with joy, capturing as many beautiful photos and memories as we could.

In just two days, this journey brought me countless life-changing experiences. It gave me unforgettable memories that I will treasure forever.

Even though both my friend and I loved every second of this journey, we had to bid farewell to Mount Fuji before the sun climbed too high. Despite not wanting to leave, our daily responsibilities didn’t give us the luxury to stay longer.

Still, I will always love this serendipitous journey, filled with unexpected twists and lucky turns, unconditionally. I place this memory at the top of my life’s treasure chest because it was an experience so beautiful that words cannot fully capture it.

Though I started writing this intending to post a short version on social media, once I began, I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to leave out any of the profound experiences I had. So what I thought would be a two-page story has turned into a much longer tale.

Even if only one out of a hundred people reads this story, that’s enough for me. Though I don’t usually enjoy reading long posts either, I’m sharing this with the hope that someone—just one person—will feel something from it.

Today is 01/01/2025. But this story took place on 24/08/2024. More than four months have passed. I thought I would finish writing this in a week, but that week stretched into months. I won’t explain the reasons here, but I ask myself for forgiveness, kindly and sincerely.

Thank you.