Fuji, in a Gasp of Breath.

Orderly, in quieter times.

Tokyo, Japan — The train’s windows serve as frames of film on fast forward as we take in our final showing of Tokyo.

Jerking around a corner, we look up.

In a blink, Mount Fuji rises majestically between buildings. And then, is gone.

It’s rush hour and we’re crammed into the busiest cars we’ve seen all week. It doesn’t help that we’re on our way to Haneda Airport and have our bags with us. 

Up next: Okinawa.

I’m wedged between men in dark suits and a pole, attempting to be Pélé while corralling the suit bag at my feet. This morning, it’s far easier to imagine how seven million passengers trace these rails every day.

The city is so big it must be the only way.

Tomorrow, there will be snow.

The train lines are a marvel once you become more comfortable with them. But they’re not without their quirks and problems. It’s not uncommon, for example, to see women-only cars during rush hour given a history of wandering hands.

My favourite, though, is if a train is even the slightest bit late, station staff bow to passengers in apology and hand out train delay certificates to take to your boss or teacher. 

Punctuality is serious business. Even a train that left 20 seconds early received an official apology.

Now, for a change of pace: Okinawa only has 1.5 million residents.