Despite having been up several mountains in my time, I've never actually climbed one. So yesterday, when I set off with a couple of friends to climb Sangunzan (Mt. Sangun) in Fukuoka, I was quite excited.

We'd been assured that the mountain was an easy enough climb, and that Japanese elementary school kids sometimes make their way to the top. Within a few minutes however, we soon realised that this was, probably, a load of rubbish. It wasn't that it was especially difficult to begin with, but that it was so potentially lethal. One slip and you'd have tumbled several feet onto the large, sharp and unforgiving rocks that wouldn't have done your bones any favours at all. Suddenly I was eight years-old again and I could hear my mother in my head: 'Be careful!', 'Don't go that way!', 'You come down NOW!' It was brilliant, and I took great pleasure in jumping from rock to rock, only coming close to breaking my ankle on three occasions.

We soon reached a fork in the road and, somewhat inevitably, opted for the wrong route and spent the next thirty minutes climbing up a slope that clearly wasn't meant to be climbed. We weren't so much climbing as we were scrambling and fumbling our way through the trees and shrubbery. I paused at intervals to throw branches, berries, and pretty much anything I could lay my hands on at my friend who was following close behind. The slope, at times, reached a particularly punishing gradient, and when we eventually rejoined the trail my quads were feeling less than clever.

The rest of the climb was pretty steady going, though there were a couple more sections that needed to be tackled using the chains or ropes that had been hammered into the side of the mountain. Once we'd reached the top we were surprised to see several fellow climbers. We'd not seen a soul all morning, and soon realised that there were in fact several ways to get to the top of Sangunzan. I can only assume the elementary school kids take one of the other, less treacherous, routes. Or, more likely, that my friend's acquaintance is a big fat liar.

At the top we took time to appreciate the stunning views across Fukuoka that the beautifully clear, warm and sunny day had so gratefully blessed us with. We could see several familiar towns and cities including Iizuka, Tagawa, Keisen, Sasaguri, and even Fukuoka city itself, including the Yahoo! Dome and Fukuoka Tower. After dining on a hearty lunch of rice balls and peanuts (the staple diet of any seasoned mountain climber) we decided to head back down the mountain.

We soon encountered a bright green snake slithering through the bush at some pace, so we stopped to take some pictures and deliberate if it was poisonous - a deliberation which didn't stop us getting as close as possible so as to secure a decent picture of the potentially life-threatening beast. After watching it slip off down the other side of the slope on which it sat, we continued to plod on before stopping on the side of the road for a collective toilet break.

As I stood there taking a leak, my friend called over and joked 'Mind you don't pee on any snakes!' Turning my head back round to see what I was doing, I was somewhat startled to discover that I was in fact peeing on a snake, whose long black body now began to uncoil and shift at some pace away from my line of fire. Remarkably, I managed to stop taking a wee, put my John Thomas back in my shorts, not splash myself once, and then jump back making cowardly noises all in one seamless motion. Proud of my achievement, I began to take pictures (of the snake, of course!)

As we continued to the bottom, I found I was now unable to take my eyes off the ground and undergrowth for fear that a snake might jump out and sink its fangs into my legs, thus avenging the fate of its now pee-soaked comrade. Thankfully, we made it to the bottom unscathed, despite a few slips and scratches, yet managed to find ourselves covered in several layers of thick, sticky cobwebs - a real testament to the regularity with which our chosen path had been trodden.

The round trip had taken us about five hours. With the generous breaks we'd allowed ourselves we were quite pleased with our performance, though the lack of a bar or beer vending machine at the bottom was difficult to come to terms with. We settled for soft drinks, perched ourselves on a nearby wall, and congratulated ourselves on a good day's climbing.

Elementary school students my foot.