Today was moving day, as we transitioned from the Nakasendo Way and the Kiso Valley to the Japanese Alps. By train, however, it was only a 40 minute journey (although a standing one in a very full carriage) from Kiso-Fukushima to Matsumoto, eastern gateway to the alpine area.

We arrived late morning, which gave us plenty of time to wander down from our hotel to Matsumoto Castle, originally built some 430 years ago and listed as a National Treasure of Japan. We were normal tourists again and joined the others from Japan and around the world to explore its gardens, moats, ramparts and keep - a superb setting backed by the distant mountains.

A wander through the six levels of the keep, with its 40 cm risers on the stairs, was the highlight. The following photos show why we enjoyed the visit.

Then it was back to the hotel for a bit of preparation - the next day we planned to climb to the top of 3026m Norikuradake. It would be a task made much less formidable by the bus, which goes up to the 2700m level, the highest bus stop in Japan. Still, when you have very limited time, you take such an opportunity to stand on the roof of the Japanese Alps. Let's hope that there aren't too many clouds about.

......... see Norikuradake Climb below .....

The day after our hike up to Norikuradake was a designated rest day - for writing up, buying supplies and doing any washing. It gave us plenty of time to explore Matsumoto a little better, wandering along Nakamachi Street with its heritage white-fronted shops and Nawate St, running along the canal, where many of the tiny shops embrace the frog theme of the street. A highlight was returning to Matsumoto Casle at night - its floodlit shape reflected perfectly in the dark waters of the moat.

As we did, the dark clouds that had hung over the mountains began to roll in towrds the city. The air was warm and the atmosphere seemed pre-thunderstorm. Let's hope this system blows through before we set off on our three-day circuit in Kamikochi, heartland of the Alps, tomorrow.

On the downside, at around the 2500m mark, we began to enter the cloud layer and, by the time we arrived at Tatamidaira bus terminal at 2700m, we were well and truly clouded in with visibility down to 50-100m. Surrounded by the rims of extinct volcanoes with immense views out over the lower country, we saw nothing but misty shapes. Other walkers, who had come up on the bus, looked similarly bemused. However, we had all arrived with a mission to climb Norikuradake and so, in dribs and drabs, we set out.

It is actually not a very difficult climb - only 6.5 km return from the bus terminal and 300m of ascent. It started out very easy, as we wound our way around the flank of Mt Fujimi on a broad gravel road to cross a windy saddle between it and Mt Marishiten. The wind was driving the fine mist of the cloud acoss the saddle, dampening clothes - it was time for wetweather gear, beanies and gloves.

The road then led us slightly downhill around the flank of Marishiten where the ghostly shape of Katanokoya Hut emerged from the mist. The tourist info sheets promise you a hot drink at a cafe here, but that surmises that the cafe would be open - it wasn't.

From Katanokoya, the track changed fairly dramatically into a steep and loose scree and rock route marked by a pair of ropes .... very useful guides in the dense mist. This slowly morphed into a slope of small basalt boulders and rocks as we continued the climb, picking our way through the boulder field between the guide ropes. For a while, we wondered why it seemed tougher than we expected, till we remembered we were at 3000m.

We had been in the lee of the wind on this climb, but emerging on to the rim of the volcano and the saddle between Mts Asahi and Norikura, we were hit by its icy blast. Still, almost there ... a last section of knobbly basalt rocks brought us to the high point of the rim and the summit of Norikuradake, marked by a small buddhist shrine and a wooden torii gate. On a clear day, the view from here is magnificent, stretching as far as Mt Fuji. On a day such as today, you can't even see the lake in the crater 150 metres below. Still, we were standing on top of volcanic peak at over 3000m in the Japanese Alps .... mission accomplished.

cloud descends on the mountains
jagged peaks hidden from my eyes
yet etched in my mind

There was no point hanging around in the mist and wind, so we retraced our steps down the boulders, scree and gravel road back to the bus terminal. While waiting for the bus, the cloud briefly thinned out to give us a view of nearby Mt Ebisu and it crater lake ... a small consolation prize from the mountain.

It was dark by the time that we made the return bus - bus - train trip back to Matsumoto, tired, somewhat disappointed but content ... you can't expect to have a winner everytime.

The rain of yesterday had passed, but, from our hotel's 10th floor breakast room window, the panorama of the Japanese Alps was still painted grey. We left Matsumoto with some trepidation, even though the weather forecast was promising three days of fine weather for our mountain circuit.

The route was similar to that for Norikuradake - a slow commuter train to Shinshimashima followed by a winding bus trip up the deep and green Azusa Valley. This time however, we didn't turn off to the highlands, but headed further up the valley to reach Kamikochi. The further we penetrated the valley, the lighter the cloud became. When we finally reached Taishi-ike Pond, our point of departure, the sky was blue with whisps of cloud floating above the valley.

Kamikochi is a special place, where a blockage of the valley has allow sediments from the mountains to build up and create a flatland up to 300m deep wedged between ranges that towered 1000-1500m above - a very special microhabitat. Japanese people love to walk in this place and it was a Sunday - a walk in the beauty of Kamikochi is just what you need to restore the spirit after a week at work. We were not alone.

From the bus stop, we headed down to the shore of Taisho Pond for our first impression - a broad, crystal clear body of water rimmed by pine, larch and broad-leaf trees, some already showing yellow autumn colour, and backed by tall mountains. This walk will be good.

We followed the band of day-walkers along a boardwalked path that led us into the Taisho Marshes beneath the tree canopy. Not long after we had passed tiny Tashiro Pond, a troop of macaques feeding on berries provided some amusement.

Looking north from Tashiro Bridge

Views opened out of the surrounding mountains and the shallow stony bed of the Azusa River, its clear turqoise water rushing down. It was a very pleasant stroll and it is easy to see why it is a popular one.

Azusa River panorama towards Mt Myojina (2930m)

On reaching the main tourist area, we stopped for a coffee and to book our return tickets to Matsumoto in two days time. This is day-tripper central and the Kappabashi suspension bridge was jam-packed with people looking for the iconic photo of the Azusa River backed by the 3190m peak of Oku-hotakadake.

We passed by and pushed on into the shade of the conifer forest, before the path rejoined the river, offering glimpses of its turquoise water and stony bed through the trees.

We stopped for lunch at Myojinkan Mountain Hut before heading on up the valley. The crowds were now much thinner, with only people heading up to stay at one of the campsites or mountain huts on the trail. The path passed beneath a still and quiet forest canopy - it was strange that we had neither seen nor heard a bird, as a sign said that Kamikochi was home to over 100 species.

Passing quietly flowing braids of the river and still ponds in an area of marshland, we arrived at Tokusawa Lodge, set in a small clearing beneath the green and yellow speckled slopes of the valley. For a while, we crossed a flatter section beneath a tall pine forest, until the narrowing valley brought us back to the edge of the Azusa River. Is white stony bed contrasted with the green of the steep valley walls.

Further along, we were surprised to see that the river bed had become a long "construction site", with lots of earth-moving equipment (but no workers on a Sunday). It seemed like a blot on this pristine landscape, dominated by the long north ridge of the Hotaka Range. While the workers may have been absent, a troop of more than 20 macaques were present, wandering along the track with complete indifference to their human counterparts.

Rounding a corner, we spied the brown timbered buildings of Yokoo Sanso Mountain Hut, our accommodation for the night in rooms of eight curtained-off bunks with the added bonus of a hot tub. As we sat outside sipping a celebratory beer, the sun dipped behind the rocky walls of the valley and the mountain chill quickly set in. It was only 3.30pm.

We retreated inside to head off to the hot tub and soak away the weariness in our legs. Yokoo Sanso is a nice mountain hut - large, clean and providing a filling dinner. It was good way to spend our first night in the Japanese Alps.

It was an early start - Japanese mountain huts like to serve breakfast early, so we were up and eating at 6am. Outside the sky was clear and a frost lay on the ground, as the rising sun lit up the peaks in an orange glow. Sometimes it's good to get up early.

We delayed setting out until 7.30am, hoping that the air would warm up a bit by then. Crossing the Asuzagawa on a wide suspension bridge, we began the route to the Karasawa Cirque, some 650m higher up.

An almost alpenglow on Mt Mae-Hotaka (3090m)

The track was a stony single lane footpad that followed the Yokoo Stream, climbing slightly as it headed through a forest carpeted with low bamboo. Our left side was dominated by the sheer rock wall of Byobu-no-atama, the end point of the north ridge of 3090m Mt Mae-Hotaka.

After a while, we arrived at Hontani Bridge, a small suspension bridge over the rocky bed of the Yokoo Stream. The climbing was about to begin, as the sometimes stepped rocky track zig-zagged its way up the steep flank of Byobu Spur.

Eventually, the slope of the track increased, as it rounded to turn south and head for Karasawa Cirque, crossing a bouldery scree in the process. The mountain panorama that opened out was superb, but it was becoming clear that we had missed the peak autumn colour up higher. While a band of gold girdled the slopes below, up higher most of the now stunted trees famed for their red foliage had already dropped their leaves.

The face of Mae-Hotaka's north ridge now rose high above to block the morning sun and the temperature dropped quickly to single digits in its shadow. It was great to emerge into the sun again, although that meant one last steep pitch up a rocky path to reach the cirque and the Karasawahuette, one of the two mountain huts there. It was a bit of a construction site, as workmen tried to get repairs and deck extensions done before the winter snows arrived.

Fortunately, we were staying at the other hut, but we spent some time on the deck of Karasawahuette, soaking up the sun and the glorious views of the cirque of 3000+ m peaks that surrounded us. Then it was another short climb across the bare rocky scree to reach Karasawakoya, our hut for the night, slightly higher up the flank of 3106m Mt Kita-Hotaka beneath a protective rock face. It was 11am when we checked in.

What to do in such a beautiful setting for a few hours - all the tracks from here headed up the scree to the razor-sharp ridgeline 700m above us and we were already feeling tired after climbing that elevation to get here. Over lunch and a mountain-brewed beer, the fair Nello proposed that we just relax on the deck of the hut in the glorious sunshine and let the alpine ambience seep in on this perfect autumn day. I couldn't argue with that.

Our original plan had been to return to Kamikochi via the Byobu Col, getting a bit higher up in the Alps. However, at the track junction there was a sign warning of damage by landslips, which combined with the fact that the Shinmatsu Bridge over the Azusa River (which we needed to rejoin the outward route) had been demolished and was to be replaced as part of the construction we had seen on the way up, made us opt to return via the same route we had ascended.

It was another early start - earlier in fact than yesterday as Karasawakoya Hut served breakfast at 5.30am - a move aimed at getting people out and on the way ASAP. We were actually quite pleased, as it was one of the worst nights sleep we have had - sharing a bunkroom with snorers and having very thin futons, plus it enabled us to observe a magnificent sunrise over the eastern ridge of Mae-Hotakadake.

jagged peaks bathed red
above valleys dark with shadow
alpenglow at dawn

We were on the track by 6.30am and headed quickly down through the campsite, with tents pitched on flatboards amongst the rocks of the cirque scree. We were quickly back into the low shrubbery, which only a week or so ago was covered in red autumn leaves and now was largely bare apart from clusters of red berries.

On the far ridge is the Omote Ginza Panorama Route

However, the lower we got on the steep rocky path, the more the yellows and golds of birch and beech appeared. There is a steep altitudinal gradient in autumn colour.

The descent to Hontani Bridge was much quicker than the ascent (surprise, surprise) and we crossed the rocky bed of Yokoo Stream on a low wooden bridge, as workers were in the process of dismantling the suspension bridge. I suspect they do this for the winter to prevent damage from snowmelt floods. The alpine walkiing season is nearing its end.

Another 40 minutes of walking along the relatively flat, but rocky track that followed the Yokoo Stream beneath the sheer rock ramparts of the Byobulwa Wall and we reached Yokoo Sanso again. This time, however, we were pushing on to Kamikochi - we had a bus to catch for Matsumoto at 2 pm.

As we passed the long "construction site" we had seen on the way up, it was busy with trucks, diggers and workmen. This time I used Google Translate on my phone to check out the signage and, to my chagrin, found that the work was actually restoration of the original braided channels of the Azusa River plus a new bridge, not some sort of new development or gravel-mining. I mentally apologised for my negative thoughts on the way up.

We pushed on quickly through the beautiful forest on the flats near Tokusawa, past the marshy areas with still ponds and streams babbling through the forest and on to Myojinkan. Here we finally diverged from our outward route, taking the opportunity to cross the river on the Myojinbashi suspension bridge and return to Kamikochi on the right bank of the Azusa River.

First, we made a short detour to visit the Hotaka Jinja Okumiya Shrine on the shores of Myojin Pond. The southern end of the pond was a beautiful spot, dotted with tiny islands covered in moss, autumn-leafed shrubs and small pines.

In fact, the right bank walk was the highlight of our descent, even though we were now sharing it with the crowds of day-walkers. The path meandered its way beneath the forest and across the marshlands, sometimes on gravel, sometimes on long boardwalks. We crossed several streams babbling their way down from the heights above, wide open pools offering views up to Mt Myojin to the north and Mt Roppyaku to the south, with glimpses of Yakadake volcano through the trees. Finally, the track emerged at the Kappabashi Bridge with its iconic views of the Hotaka Range behind the Azusa River.

We crossed the bridge to return to our outward track, retracing it as far as the bus terminal. Our journey into the heartland of the Northern Japanese Alps was over, and a magnificent three days it had been. We joined the queue to catch one of the many buses for our journey back to Matsumoto and onwards. The mountains were finished but the coast awaited.