I was exploring some caves at the base of Mount Fuji over the New Year when I and my companion wandered up a volcanic path, enticed by the beauty of the ancient forest above.
A little way along there was a clearing, a point which is for many a last stop, before entering the forest known as "the sea of trees".
A huge sign confronted us, entreating those intent on suicide to think again, to think of family, and to seek counselling.
Every year between 60 and 70 people choose to end their lives in this particular forest. It is an enchanting place, and forests in general hold a certain mystique in Japanese culture.
Half of those who commit suicide in Japan choose such places, where they can find escape from the din of the world. It often takes months before bodies are discovered on routine searches by the police and the fire brigade.
About 500 people commit suicide in Japan every week. Not all choose the romantic allure of a forest, however. Some choose to create a fuss, attract publicity, or just maximise inconvenience to others.
I am regularly delayed on one of the busiest train lines in Tokyo because someone has jumped in front of the train.
Voluntary death is, of course, not unique to Japan, but many of its characteristics are.
Recently there has been a high incidence of suicides related to business problems, particularly with the economic depression.
Previously, many of those who committed suicide in Japan were schoolchildren, bullied or under exam pressure. During the last few years, partly due to a variety of moves to prevent bullying, these numbers have dropped by about 30 per cent, whereas the number of those thought to have committed suicide for economic reasons has increased by the same amount. Despite the sign advocating people to think again, historically suicide has been an honourable solution to difficult situations, and military and political suicides have been approved.
Suicide is glorified in Japan, death is romanticised, and those in financial trouble do not have recourse to Irish social welfare services.
Suicide is an acceptable way to preserve one's dignity, and in the case of a scandal it is a way to either protest one's own innocence or protect the innocence of others.
Last year, after checking into three adjoining rooms in a Tokyo hotel, three business partners had a drink together, divided a piece of rope into three cords, and then adjourned to separate rooms to hang themselves.
A finance executive, hit by the recent trend of Japanese to withdraw savings from local banks, jumped from the top of his office.
The manager of a picture-framing business could not afford to pay his employees so he committed a lovers'-pact suicide with his wife.
Another president of a small sheet-metal manufacturing firm died with one of his employees.
One businessman wrote in a final note: "I am sorry to all my employees for causing a poor business performance".
Such was the sense of responsibility for failure of another that he insisted his £2 million life insurance benefit should go to his troubled business rather than to his family. In Japan, life insurance policies are valid in the case of suicide.
So accepted is the link between work-related problems and suicide that one company conducted a two-year inquiry into the cause of death of one of its managers. According to a documentary on national television, he had been a well-balanced and successful engineer who was given too much responsibility and was unable to carry the burden of it.
In a country where the significance of life lies in obtaining success as measured by people's reactions, a person who is unable to fulfil role demands is a failure and must be seen to bear the shame and misery of such failure.
One young engineer made a journey to sea cliffs in the far north, on the Pacific Ocean, the place of his favourite memory, to die. In a farewell note to his parents he wrote: "Please don't hold a grudge. Don't feel any bitterness towards the company, for I have only caused them trouble."
In Samurai tradition, he who fears death dies defeated, and he who is able to sacrifice himself lives a conqueror.
In Buddhist tradition, death is an escape from the filth of the world to something more pure.
In the Shinto tradition, death is an opportunity for even the most unworthy human being to become a god.
The influence of all three traditions lives on in Japan.