How To Climb A Mountain In A Rolls Royce

One weekend, at something of a loss what to do, my wife suggested that we take a drive to a mountain in the south of Japan, on the east coast of Tokyo Bay. It was a very pleasant drive through spectacular mountain scenery that just seemed to go on forever. As the black ribbon of tarmac wended its way through the deep green forestation, through a series of perfectly constructed tunnels underneath the mountains, it felt like we were on the road to nowhere.

Eventually we arrived at the foot of our target mountain and started the trek upwards. It was one and a half mile climb to the top and it was not what you would call easy going. It was so, so hot with humidity we had to make frequent stops to replace the liquid we had lost through perspiration.

En route to the second rest stop we saw a young couple coming back down the forty five degree incline. He was wearing fashionable jeans and a top brand sweat shirt. She was tottering behind him in a short black Coco Chanel number and a pair of pink tinted plastic high heel sling-backs. The pair of them looked totally unflustered by the ascent and descent of the mountain. This made me think that either I was getting old (which sad to report I am) or this was a mirage.

When we got to the next rest stop there in the carpark was a beautiful white Rolls Royce. Suddenly, again we saw the fashion conscious climbers from further down the arduous climb. Again they were coming back down the mountain.

We took on more water and set off for the next part of the climb to the third and final rest stop. And lo and behold there getting into the white Rolls Royce once again were the hapless catwalk climbers.

I guess they ascended each part a little before going back down to the carpark when the going got too tough. Each time they got back into the Rolls Royce and made their way higher up the mountain to the next car park. At each stage this hapless couple simply walked a few hundred yards up the track before turning tail and heading back down to the car park. I seriously doubt they ever got to the top as we did as the final part of the climb was a bit of a killer to say the least.

The views from the top were outstanding and left me feeling as breathless as the climb did. Suddenly we noticed that there was a cable car from the coast road far below right up to the summit. We were quite pleased with ourselves that we had made it under our own steam. In time we went back down and arrived at that third and final carpark, just in time to see the Rolls Royce roar off back down the mountain.

My wife commented that she thought the relationship of this wealthy couple was one of a rich client out with a working girl from one of the local night clubs. I concurred.

The thing is, what sort of a professional date like that involves driving to a big craggy mountain and attempting, and consummately failing, to climb to the top in a fashionable dress and skittish high heels?

Clearly I need to radically re-think exactly what it is a prostitute and her client get up to when they come together, if you will excuse the pun. One thing is for sure, it was more than a bit different than the usual horizontal activity on her back thinking of England.