November 24

Day 3

The SPAAAAAAHHHHH!

If you would have asked me yesterday evening, I would have told you I was in love with the entire world! Why? I had just spent an entire day at an onsen in Tokyo. This was not just any onsen, it was an onsen on steroids. It was Ooedo-Onsen Monogatari. An onsen is a spa. This was actually a spa theme park. If you are into bodily comfort as I am, there is an amenity to satisfy your every legal hedonistic whim.

Yoko and I took an hour and four trains to go there. Since it was a holiday, the trains were not nearly as packed. We were able to sit most of the way. It was a bright cloudless perfect day with no wind anywhere.

When we arrived, we took off our shoes and placed them in a locker and got a key. From there we proceeded to the counter where we got our yakatas. Those are robes I used to call kimonos but Yoko corrected me by saying kimonos are far fancier and thicker. I did have an obi to wear. That word is a favorite crossword puzzle word.

We went to the dressing area where we took off our outer clothes and donned our yakatas. From this point on we were barefoot the rest of the day.

We chose this particular spa because it is the only place in Tokyo that has the fish which give a fish pedicure. A FISH pedicure you say? Yup. Tiny little black fish that surround your feet the moment they are placed in the warm water.

The first sensation was almost unbearable. My feet have gotten more sensitive with age and extremely ticklish. Hundreds of tiny fish mouths surrounded my ankles, half-way up my calves, the bottoms of my feet, and in between my toes. After I became adjusted to the sensations I was feeling, it became a sensation of the tingling of electricity perhaps similar to the feeling of tingling when your hands or feet “fall asleep”. It was actually quite relaxing in its own way.

We followed that by sitting in the open air with our feet in the warm water. The water flowed through channels which were lined with small to medium sized rocks. In spite of the fact that I often go barefoot at home, the rocks were too much for me. They hurt! So I resigned myself to just sitting.

We had made appointments for massages but they weren’t for another hour.We headed towards the baths. The Japanese people have obviously never heard of the story of Adam and Eve and the shame associated with the naked human body as the Europeans had. Of course the sexes were separated. Women and young children were walking around all over in their natural God given state and no one was thinking anything about it. Some women carried the small towel in front of them while others just wore it wrapped around the head. We showered and washed our hair first then headed into the large pools. About 15 minutes later we decided to go to the outdoor wooden tubs. It seemed strange sitting out there in the water at the end of November and not really feeling cold. When we finished with the baths, we donned our yakatas again and headed towards the massage. There were several signs posted in the bath area about NO TATOOS. I have a yellow rose on my backside that is under the back pocket area. Nathan had told me to cover it with a band aid so that’s what I did. Thankfully, no one said anything.

The next step to heaven was one of the best massages I have ever felt. Since I, myself, was a massage therapist for a while, I think I’m a pretty good critic of what a good massage should feel like. This one was off the pleasure scale. She had the hands of an angel. For the most part I was able to keep my mind in the now and just enjoying the moment. I refused to think of anything else. In the meanwhile, my body was slipping past me towards oblivion. It was the most fantastic 50 minutes I have experienced in a long time. I could hardly think or speak when she finished. I could barely say arrigato go zie mas Or whatever that phrase is which means thank you for things you did in the past “tense” politely. It was time for lunch. I whimped out and ordered Ramen noodles. I’m familiar with those. We sat in the eating area and calmly enjoyed the surroundings. After lunch it was time for the sand baths. Off with the yakatas and on with a similair yakata.

For the sand bath you enter a very warm room and lay down on towels on the sand. Attendants then cover you up with mounds of sand until you are completely buried from the neck down. If I had assumed a fetal position I imagine I would have experienced a feeling close to being back in the womb…or possibly being mummified.

I made a snap decison at that point to go all out. I got a foot massage or as come call it reflexology. Yoko headed back towards the baths while I walked up the stairs. I was escorted to my seat immediately. The worker covered my head and eyes blocking out the light so there was less sensory information flowing into my brain. She began working on my feet. The first thing she did was wash them with a warm wet towel. Then she began working on the accupressure points not only in my feet but also up to my knees. The first time was painful but tolerable. The second time the pain had subsided and the third time was bliss. The body has a system for dealing with pain. It releases endorphins. If you can imagine the high on opiates, that in general is what a flood of endophins will do.

By the time she was finished, I was beyond a limp noodle phase. I was melting gelatin. No form no function, just bliss. It reminded me of an elderly client I once had. I had finished with her and told her to just come back gradually. I would be in again in about five minutes to help her off the table. After two minutes I heard a thud. Then a pause. I rushed back in to find her on the floor. I asked her what had happened. She replied, “I melted.” as she sat there giggling like a ten year old. Yup. A good therapist who knows massage and reflexology can do that to a client. It was my turn to melt. I was in heaven all the way back home. Namaste. Attic Annie

trying to make a stencil or sompin with this

there are so many stencils on the street here in málaga, it seems appropriate to try to add my own.

i went to a hammam yesterday, when a day of sightseeing in Granada turned out to be a day of rain and cold feet. There were three baths and sweet mint tea, of which i drank a whole lot. I was surprised that men and women bath together here, since Onsen are sex segregated. Lots of couples making out in the medium temp./ tepid bath. I felt like a part of the candle-lit scenery.

@ Tsurunoyu Onsen

One of the great joys of living in Japan are the varying seasons and the activities that come with each season, now we are entering into the dark cold nights of winter and what better way to keep the cold at bay than going for Onsen.  Below is a list of the 10 best Onsens to visit as recommended by gojapan.about.com but remember that also your local Onsen can be just as nice!

Saving the best of my visit to Joshinetsu (上信越) for last: Nozawa Onsen.

This past weekend, I went on a tour with my host family. We took a shinkansen [bullet train] to Yamagata Prefecture, which is in the Tohoku region north of Tokyo’s Kanto region. The three of us were on one of those tours you’ve probably seen in the US or Europe. About 50 Japanese people in their 50s and 60s walking around taking photos and kind of missing the point. Still, I saw some great stuff and it was fun! Saturday night was spent at an onsen ryokan [a traditional hot spring inn] and I had my first hot spring bath. The sulfur irritated my skin to the point where it was splotchy, red and immensely painful. That went away after an hour or so, though. I attribute it to my overly sensitive skin; most people would enjoy the hot springs just like most people would enjoy sitting in the sun at the beach.

I took pictures at some of the places we stopped. They’re not perfect because they’re from my phone, but one of them might be my favorite picture I’ve ever taken. Take a look [I highly suggest clicking on them because you'll be able to see them full-size!]:

This was in a tiny town in Yamagata we visited for an hour or so. It’s sort of an old school area and the entire storefront area is just up and down this little stream. You can’t really make it out, but the water is really clear mountain water and the bed of the stream is mostly covered with large, flat, round rocks. It’s like someone made a perfectly good patio and then ran a stream over it.

I took this picture looking back on the town as I headed out. The first picture you saw was taken from the upper right portion of this shot, looking in the opposite direction. To the left in this picture, you can see people washing their feet at the side of the path. Because it’s an onsen town, the hot spring water is pumped into little foot baths that anyone is free to use. It was a brisk day, so plenty of people were thrilled to stop, sit down and warm their feet in the mineral-rich 105-degree water. Up the stream and around the corner to the right, I saw:

This is the waterfall that marks the start of the town. You can climb up and over it, and I’m pretty sure there’s a shrine up there but I couldn’t go and look because Japanese tours keep tight schedules! I did get a chance to grab a curry bread, a local specialty. It’s like a bun with Japanese curry filling…you can get them at the convenience store, but the ones from this town are in another league. But the good pictures and really nice views were at Yamadera!

This picture is looking up at the lower part of the temple. Yamadera literally means “Mountain Temple” and it was not falsely advertised. We walked up thousands of steps carved into the mountain and got pretty tired out in the process. Unfortunately, we were a LITTLE late for the autumn leaves at their peak, but Yamadera is renowned for them, as well as cherry blossoms in the spring. It was established in the year 860 AD and has been a leading temple in the region since that time. So I’m thinking like Civil War…and then a thousand years before that. Apparently, the sacred flame brought from a parent temple in Kyoto in 860 has been tended constantly since then…I wonder if JFK’s eternal flame will still be going in the year 3112.

What a view! This is the little town that Yamadera overlooks. It’s actually quite typical for a Japanese mountain town. Teeny and surrounded by mountains on all sides. My host father pointed out the rotating train track platform leftover from the days of steam locomotives; he explained that steam locomotives would come this far and then have to stop before going into the long mountain tunnels. Electric trains were coupled to trains at the local station and brought cargo and passengers through the tunnel just outside of town. He said that this continued until he was out of high school [in the fifties], but that you can always recognize a sleepy mountain town because they still have an old steam engine turn-about. In this picture, you can just make it out on the bottom right just beyond the train tracks.

I love this picture. The colors are great, the aesthetic is great and it’s a beautiful window into Japanese culture and history. This is the very peak of Yamadera, where you can look down over the entire valley. In all four seasons, it is said to be the most beautiful place in the area and you can see photos online of it in winter and spring as well.

As you can see, I had a good trip and got to see a lot of nice things. But let’s face it — I’m 19 years old and I like the city. I was really glad to be back to Tokyo. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the pictures! Just wanted to show that in spite of horrid international affairs, I’m not all doom and gloom!

REMIX

13th November 2009

*Warning: contains scenes of nudity that may offend/horrify some readers.

For us, the choice was endless in Funaoka Onsen, with simple cold and hot pools, a jacuzzi, a sauna and, best of all, an outdoor pool – a sheltered, heated bath made of the softest, smoothest wood with a bamboo trunk for a tap. It was utter bliss until it got crowded with naked octogenarians and I was forced to dash inside for the sauna, followed by a dunk in the ice cold pool – strangely enough, that one was empty.

Now pretty confident with my new fleshy look, I plucked up the courage to swagger over to the more adventurous pools. First off was the herbal pool which was a vivid shade of orange and approximately half a degree below boiling point. Gary says that this bit made him feel a little stoned but I just got bored and started to worry about coming out looking like a Cheesy Wotsit.

Finally I tried the electrical pool – distinguishable by the presence of a series of plug sockets at around knee height. I’m not certain how that was supposed to feel but I had the sensation that all of my joints were dislocating themselves. Let’s just say that I won’t be hopping into my tub with a hairdryer any time soon.

Just in case the seven pools, sauna and various hosing downs don’t leave you squeaky clean, the last step to onsen-fresh skin is another vigorous scrub down using liberal amounts of soap and a rough cloth. Apparently I wasn’t quite up to scratch on my vigorous scrubbing skills however, as the aforementioned old woman was forced to take over with her scrubbing brush and organic soap (without a word of warning, might I add).

As clean as a whistle, I floated outside to meet Gary who, after an hour and a half with dozens of naked Asian men, had a new found confidence and a swagger in his step.

As we were unable to take a camera into the Onsen (for obvious reasons) the pictures used in this post are courtesy of Google Images.

We visited Hakone, to the west of Tokyo from where Mt Fuji can be seen (if you’re lucky enough to visit on a clear, cloudless day).
The romance car took us from Shinjuku to Odawara, then we met up with mum and dad who were on the JR line and took the switch-back train to Hakone-Yumoto.
We took a local bus to Tenzan onsen, an upmarket onsen. It had lovely hot spring pools – a choice of about five including rock pools, an inside bath, a cold bath and a steamy grotto all with views of the forest and mountains.
From there we caught another local bus to our accommodation which was equipped with 3 hot spring baths of its own. We used the onsen 2 times a day while we stayed there. It was so relaxing and warm in the cold, rainy weather.
The next day was overcast and rained throughout the day so Mt Fuji was not to be seen. But we still managed to ride through the multiple forms of transport – the bus to Gora, the Hakone Tozan cablecar to Sounzan followed by the ropeway to Togendai, the Hakone sightseeing pirate ship cruise across Lake Ashi to Hakone Machi, a walk through the Ancient Cedar lined path alongside the old highway (some trees are up to 360 years old) and bus back to Gora.
In the afternoon the wet weather held off so we walked through Gora Park past the colourful autumn foliage and through the warm glasshouses of bougainvilleas.
We took the bus back to our accommodation, warmed ourselves with another onsen bath in the slightly sulfurous waters and had a huge stirfry for dinner.

After two consecutive days of bustling Tokyo, our next destination would be a lot quieter in comparison. On 8 September, we began our quick-stop tour of western Japan, moving from city to city with more speed than a Kenyan sprinter on…speed. Naturally, I’m not going to cover all of the exciting places I visited in one go, so stay tuned for the other four parts after this one (yes, this is a ten part ordeal, be amazed). Having spent a week in and around the buzzing centre of the country, I was beginning to think that nothing outside Tokyo or Yokohama existed.

I was filled with considerable anticipation, then, when it was announced that we would be travelling deep into the unknown hill-country of Shizuoka. Of course, it wasn’t unknown at all, but I liked to think it was, like I was some sort of intrepid Anglo-Irish explorer, conquering the terrain of some utterly alien new land. In writing that sentence, it has become clear to me that I need to start reading/playing less fantasy lest I sound like a total psychopath. Regardless, on our drive from the suburbia (I use the term suburbia very lightly, as it doesn’t seem to exist in Japan) of Kanagawa, there was plenty a beautiful sight to behold, and most of it to the soundtrack of Pokémon, as during our four hour drive to our mountain lodgings, I don’t think H.’s mix-CD was changed once. I now know the lyrics to two of the said cartoon series’ opening themes, as of course for me to have known them beforehand would have been absolutely preposterous…ahem.

Surviving miles of long-winding and often treacherous roads, we eventually arrived at our ryokan, a traditional Japanese-style inn. Nestled deep in the hills, ‘idyllic’ would have been putting it lightly. Indeed, as the title of this post suggests, I really did feel like we were some sort of travelling samurai, stepping backwards in time to a now sadly dwindling Japanese Japan, with paper walls, sliding doors, futons and the like. Aside from my unfounded nostalgia and the obvious impracticalities of using paper walls and mats for flooring in a 21st century world of skyscrapers and bullet-trains, it was fantastic nonetheless. Taking off our shoes at the entrance (as is typical in Japanese houses), we were escorted to our room. Sliding the highly ornate door aside revealed a large open space with nothing but a table and some small cushions for us to sit ourselves down on, an alcove by the window adjoined.

Up the road from the ryokan.

Setting our bags down and helping ourselves to a rather pungent, yet equally delicious sweet rice-ball thing, we decided to bathe. This particular ryokan was of the hot-spring variety (more sausage, folks!), though this time it was a  private affair, so the three of us had a bath to ourselves. For any reader that’s just joined in this epic tale, nakedness is something that the Japanese take with a pinch of salt and a degree of gusto, and rightfully so. I think it’s high-time that the Europeans and Americans got off their high-horses of prudery and realised that, well, every man has a penis and every girl has a vagina. Unless you are transsexual and therefore have the best of both worlds. Either way, big bloody whoop. Inconveniently for three heterosexual males, our outdoor grotto bath was shamefully romantic, perhaps best suited to couples, rather than rabbles of young men. The water was hot indeed, whilst the overpowering odour of sulphur made soaks of more than five minutes difficult.

More of the ryokan's scenery. No bathing men, sorry!

Returning from the bath-house to our rooms, adorning some traditional Japanese robes in the process (think tailored dressing-gowns), we were quickly ushered into an adjacent dining room where supper had been delightfully provided for us. It was the real deal – sushi, sashimi, tempura, you name it. Salmon, tuna, squid, shrimp and chicken (the cooks had angelically taken it upon themselves to rustle up some meat for the duo of European palates) accompanied by pickled vegetables, all washed down by a pint of very refreshing beer. It was a mouthgasm, and that was putting it lightly. Stomachs full, we lumbered back to our room to find that while we had been eating, the small table that had once graced the centre had now disappeared and laid down in its stead were futon, Japanese bed-rolls. Considering the handiwork of magical Japanese elves (and not the inn staff), I collapsed into…well, not sleep, actually. It took absolutely sodding ages for me to venture off into the realm of slumber because of my ridiculously hard pillow; so hard was it in fact, that when I woke up in the morning, I had more knots in my shoulder muscles than a suicide-bomber has virgins in Paradise.

A scroll in our room, supposedly to ward off evil spirits.

Sadly, we had to make a quick exit if were to get to Nagoya (our next stop) on schedule. We had a huge and hearty breakfast; traditional meals are hard to differentiate in Japan.  Breakfast has miso soup, as does supper. It has fish and meat too, not unlike supper. And of course, the ubiquitous pot of rice is on hand at any meal you care to imagine. Fresh fruit was pretty much all that defined our morning meal from the food we had eaten the night before, though it was still thoroughly delicious. If there’s one thing the Japanese have certainly mastered, it’s the culinary arts.

Breakfast.

Thus it was over; we exchanged our yukata robes for our t-shirts and shorts, our wooden sandals for our shoes, our welcoming, slightly uncomfortable futon for our travel-bags and headed for the entrance. The ryokan keeper pounced on us from the desk (in a nice way, you understand, not in some sort of angry lioness way) and demanded we take a free gift back with us. From amongst paper-fans, cloth and chopsticks, I took a  black and gold floral wash-bag, something that my father now uses to keep his Fixodent and dental-floss in. Nice.

Out into the mountain, we hit the road.

The following are just some shots over the last month or two of some gorgeous fall color.  The ephemeral is the most beautiful here, so a lot of destinations are arranged in a way most advantageous for viewing natural phenomena.  At any rate, dear readers, please enjoy:

At Ikaho, the beginning of October

Rice fields - no alteration of color here. I didn't even crop out my half-open shutter.

Tree on the banks of 丹生湖 (a lake I forgot the name of)

at Haruna lake

Chuck and Dave. It snowed a few days later.

Along the river from my most spectacular ride thus far. Last Saturday.

Roadside at Mt. Myogi

This tree was lit up with sunlight in the middle of a pine forest.

The summit of Mt. Fuji.

Having completed our trek up and down Mt. Fuji, with my leg in a degree of controlled agony, my eyes almost cemented together through lack of sleep and my underarms more malodorous than twelve-hour roadkill, getting naked in a Japanese hot-spring (onsen, in the native tongue) was not my idea of relaxation. I couldn’t have been more mistaken.

The onsen was basically a public bath-house. With my prudish English streak in overload, I felt bloody uncomfortable about climbing into some massive communal bath with my Crown Jewels exposed for the entire orient to see. This, of course, highlights the typical male ego; no one really wanted to look at my member, for they were of course washing themselves and not rampantly drunk homosexuals bent on assailing my genitalia (though I’m positive an old fellow kept eyeing me from the jacuzzi…). After a somewhat timid first soak, it was relatively easy to feel, well, at ease, though I’m sure it would have been a lot worse if the bath-houses hadn’t been gender divided. Oh, that would have been dreamily awkward…

Me big European man…

I do apologise, I was…fantasising…

Ahem.

There were several hot baths (some incredibly hot) and one extremely icy cold bath that I suppose had some sort of cleansing, homeopathic healing thing that my increasingly hippie mum would probably buy in for. I lasted about twenty seconds in the sauna before I felt like my body would implode. How can anyone breathe in those damn things? I thought I was experiencing some sort of mild heart-attack. The outdoor bath was certainly the best, despite the view of several Japanese men sunning themselves on the loungers. With such fine Japanese weather, the cooling breeze and the warm water would’ve easily put me to sleep. Regardless, it was an experience I wouldn’t forget, and one that become twice more familiar in the coming week.

We left the onsen at around two o’clock in the afternoon and got back to Tokyo at about four, arriving at H.’s an hour and a half or so later. As I lay down in my room, I was aware that my leg ache was still very much there; trying to ignore it, I closed my eyes in a vain effort to sleep, but to no avail.  The pain was too overpowering. Considering my options, I knew I would have to act. Realising a trip to the doctor would be in order, I told H. and was whisked off to the local hospital.

Early comments from the hospital receptionist said that any sort of x-ray or scan would cost upwards in the region of €500. With only about €350 left, ‘concerned’ would have been putting it lightly. A young chap saw to me; he was extremely polite (with truly awesome hair) and H. did all the translating for me. The doctor was left rather puzzled – he gave no ultimate diagnosis, as I seemed to have no pain in the areas he expected me to have any, and pain in the areas he didn’t. After climbing Mt. Fuji, it was also pretty difficult to pinpoint exactly where the ache was coming from. He said I had a 1% chance of having developed DVT (in my hypochondria, I had linked my dead-leg incident on the plane to my shin) but considered it very unlikely at my age; eventually, he said it may have been the side-effect of some sort of flu as I appeared to have a mild fever. Bizarrely, he overlooked the glaring yellow bruise complete with matching lump on my lower leg, instead prescribing aspirin and heat-wraps. Being a startling delightful fellow (or more likely thinking, “Haha, you dumb fuck, get travel insurance next time!”), he charged nothing for the consultation.

Considering my mind had been put at ease, I immediately felt better. A little internet research in the evening revealed that my ache had probably been caused by a bone bruise. The bruise itself would disappear in days, but the lump could remain for months or more. Indeed, it’s only been this month – the start of November –  that I have noted its more-or-less complete absence. Funnily enough, I still get the odd pain there, depending on the weather. Frightfully unspiffing of it. Still, I rather preferred that over an aneurysm or tissue-eating necrosis.

The weekend passed lazily. D., disappeared off for a few hours to meet some of his work-camp friends in Tokyo (he had been in Japan a month prior to my arrival), and H. and I traipsed about the local vicinity, checking out the large, sprawling malls and arcades. My gods, do the Japanese know how to shop. And play arcade games. And drift RC cars.

Arcades in Europe *seriously* need to catch up.

Frightfully moreish Japanese snacks.

A Nakagawa mall, with its own RC racing track. Oh yes.

My leg was recovering well and I felt spritelier than I had before. We spent our idle hours planning the next week’s agenda – Nagoya, Nara, Osaka and Kyoto were all on the cards. It was going to be very busy, indeed.

Sunday 1st November 2009: Another month, another bath! What better way to celebrate the turning of the calendar from October to November than a journey out to visit an onsen that has long captured my imagination and yet in 10 years of visiting Japan I had failed to venture to: Kurama. Located at the end of the Eiden electric railway, a rather cute tram-type train that winds its way out of Kyoto to the mountains in the north, Kurama Onsen is renowned in Kyoto for being a place of real natural beauty and a town where some of the most traditional aspects of Japanese culture are still thriving. Extremely popular in autumn-leaf season (usually the middle of November), Kurama is an escape from the busy streets of central Kyoto.

So, onto the bath; well, not quite yet as I decided to earn my soak in the hot springs by hiking the short distance from Kibune Guchi to Kurama, a distance of around 4.5 km that takes in ancient shrines and temples, a beautiful cedar forest and in my case, a lot of very heavy rain!

Kibune Guchi Station - Before The Rain

The hike starts out from Kibune Guchi station, following the mountain stream up hill to Kibune village itself. Many traditional villages like this are slowly dying, starved of any economic prospects and suffering from steady depopulation as the younger (and sometimes older) generations head to the cities in search of work. Kibune, however, benefits from its close proximity to Kyoto, the world’s second most visited city, and so retains its classic old-world charm, whilst offering work for the owners and staff of the several traditional inns and restaurants that line the main street. Especially popular in summer, many of these establishments have verandas that overhang the river, offering courting couples the most romantic of summer dinner spots!

At Kibune you will also find Kibune Shrine. As the rain began to fall I climbed the lantern-lined stone steps to the shrine at the top. Ironically enough this is the rain shrine, where for a thousand years people have gone to pray for more or less rain depending on their current predicament. I didn’t feel that the intermittent drops were worthy of my calling on the gods’ assistance so after snapping a few quick photographs I headed down to continue my hike onto Kurama Onsen.

Kibune Shrine | Praying for rain... or not in my case

Better equipped than me... this mack is now on my Christmas list

The second stage of the hike is a steep climb up through the wooded slopes of Mt. Kurama. With huge cedar trees creating a dark canopy and vast systems of tangled roots on either side, the beginning of the climb feels like something out of a Miyazaki animation. The climb is quite demanding (especially when you have a schedule to keep as I did) and I was glad of the brief rest and opportunity to demist my glasses offered at Okuno-in Mao-Den, where the warrior Minamoto Yoshitsune completed his training with a Tengu goblin before joining the powerful Minamoto clan.

The Goblin Tengu - XXL Size!

From here it is just over 700 metres to the main hall of Kurama-dera Temple, most of which is downhill. I was rewarded for my efforts with a beautiful temple, framed by stunning mountain scenery and a dramatic view down to the village of Kurama at the bottom of the mountain. This is a Japan I sometimes forget exists; one of mystery and beauty, away from the tourist throng that populates the more famous and easily accessible sights. I was reminded of Hase Dera in Nara prefecture which stands majestically on the side of a mountain as it has done for nearly a thousand years; Japan still has the power to amaze even nearly 12 years on from my first visit.

Gazing at the Giant Lanterns - Kurama Temple

All the more stunning for being free of crowds

So enough of this hiking business and onto the serious issue at hand – the bath. My emergence from the grounds of Kurama-dera coincided with the onset of a torrential downpour. I was not, however, deterred from my mission in hand, a bath at Kurama Onsen which is located around 500 metres from the bottom of the temple entrance.

Kurama Onsen Through The Mist

Kurama Onsen is not an ornate onsen with multiple baths, sauna, and health treatments and such like available. Rather it is a simple two pool affair, one inside and one outside. Here it is all about the view. I paid my 1100 yen (I have to say this is a little expensive) and an additional 400 for bath towel rental (bring your own if you can). The bath is located up a short slope at the side of the main Kurama Onsen ryokan building. The changing rooms are simple with baskets and large lockers available for a 100 yen deposit. I ventured outside for my shower, with a row of stools and shower faucets available to one side of the rotenburo, separated by a bamboo fence. This is quite an unusual arrangement so I wanted to take advantage. The view from the rotenburo is beautiful and is why people come to relax at Kurama Onsen. The steep, heavily forested slopes of Mt. Kurama rise up directly in front of the bath, a scene so similar to that depicted so delicately in countless Japanese scroll paintings. In late autumn the changing leaves must be truly spectacular but I imagine the number of visitors probably rises accordingly. To lie back in the smooth hot waters of this onsen whilst the rain fell heavily around me was a true pleasure and without question worth the soaking I received previously to get here.

Nothing beats a bath in the rain. Well... almost nothing

Sadly, I could not sit back and enjoy the experience for long and after 25 minutes I dried of, pulled on my cold, wet t-shirt and jeans and headed for the free shuttle bus to Kurama Station provided by Kurama Onsen.

Kurama Onsen is a real treat. I did not have time to explore the small town but at first glance this appears to be a traditional town with a lot of charm. An overnight stay would have been great but Kurama definitely makes for a fabulous half day outing from Kyoto or Osaka. All in all, a great bath with which to conclude my bath-time adventures for this trip.

Okay so it’s purely amazing how much time difference the most direct mountain roads and the toll expressway have between eachother. It took us like 6 hours from The northern part of Kochi prefecture to get to the middle of Tokushima. Then it took only 1.5 hours to get back by toll road. Granted the toll was like 20$ without the ETC card thingy, but still it’s totally worth it for how much easier of a drive it is.

Anyway, Iya Valley was gorgeous. The leaves were every color leaves can be. Walking on the vine bridges was pretty scary even with the cables laced through them. Lots of places to twist your ankle if you’re not careful, and they move whenever someone else takes a step.

I had my first Onsen experience, and it was awesome! Pretty cheap place that only cost 1000 yen (10 bucks) and it was pretty nice. Felt great afterwards, I’d do that every weekend.

The morning of September 3rd was the start of a long, arduous trek, but it was most certainly the highlight of my Japan trip – the Mt. Fuji climb. We ‘woke up’ at the very unholy hour of four o’clock, adorned all sorts of pseudo-hiking gear, packed our bags and headed off to the central Yokohama station where we were to get on a coach that would take us deep into Japanese hill country. It took about two and a half hours to get there, but the scenery was unique enough to compel me to stay awake for an otherwise uneventful journey. We arrived at the visitor’s centre at around eight o’clock and we started our ascent half an hour later. Led by a rather grizzled mountaineer, little did we know what we had coming.

Mt. Fuji's visitor-centre.

Mountain cloudscape.

The first stretch is always the easiest and Mt. Fuji was no exception. Even though I was happy that we only had to climb 1.5km (the bus had taken us most of the way up the mountain), I couldn’t help but feel a little concerned that the old volcano would suddenly become very difficult to traverse – it did. Soon, we were forced to take steep zig-zagging paths up the mountainside and every so often, Fuji-san would throw an almost sheer rock face at us that reduced the entire group to a snail-paced crawl as everyone was obliged to fall to their hands and knees looking for any available foothold. Fuji was rapidly becoming Everest.

It was – rather inconveniently – around this time that my left leg began to ache; it had been rather painful the day before, but I had shrugged it off like the hard, focused SAS type that I am. Thankfully, it seemed like most of the group was in similar discomfort, so the shuffling pace we had been reduced to allowed me to nurse my pain and worry about what sort of horrendous bone-eating cancer I had probably developed. As if my leg was bad enough, my lungs decided to express their tenderness. (I was actually a little surprised that they hadn’t already given me a Purple Heart for my ailments.) At around 3,300m, the air was naturally very thin; many of the older climbers took to using oxygen canisters that were available (at an extortionately high price) at the stop-off points that dotted the trail. Long, deep breaths were necessary to extract the most O2 from the air.

On the way up - air...thinning...

As time dragged on, it seemed like the summit would be some unattainable dream or that Mt. Fuji was actually some bizarre fantasy that never existed and was simply a figment from a catatonic state I had lapsed into some days prior. Finally, my prayers (to atheist god) were answered, and at around five thirty in the afternoon, we made it to ‘Fuji-san Hotel’, three hundred metres from the summit. As far as I was concerned, it was Buckingham Palace.

Our guide. Ended a lot of his sentences with 'ne'.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t Buckingham Palace; the entrance led into a large dining room (and what you’re picturing now is not what it was like, I can assure you) where we were brushed off rather hurriedly by a few of the staff and then shown to our rooms. Sorry, room.  Pardon me, dormitory. Excuse me – I actually meant stable. Well, okay, it wasn’t that bad, but even D. agreed that it was like being at the bottom of a famine ship, minus the chains and impending death. Our dormitory consisted of two sides, both having one top ‘bunk’ (it was really just a large plank of wood connected to the wall) which could sleep seven, all sharing one massive pillow and duvet. The bottom ‘bunk’ was the same, except the builders had thought the light bulb they had provided those the top with was enough, and that the unfortunate sods on the bottom could get stuffed and find their way about by fumbling around in darkness.

The Japanese have this strange ability to fall asleep in the most unlikely scenarios. After we had been given a small meal, those who returned to the dormitory seemed to fall asleep almost instantly. H. and his sister A. slept solidly until one o’clock in the morning when we were to begin our climb again, but D. and I were not so fortunate. As if the incredibly thick duvet wasn’t enough (and I hate to think of the bacterial population it housed), my fellow German produced two cans of vile lemon-flavoured alcohol that was either supposed to keep us going through the long night or knock us out sufficiently so that we wouldn’t have to worry about our rather squalid sleeping conditions. Alas, the only thing that our cans of Suturongu (‘strong’ in phonetic Japanese) succeeded in doing was to cause two toilet breaks (into the freezing air outside) and the loss of several hundred brain cells as I whacked my head so hard off the wood of the top bunk coming out from underneath, that I bled a few drops of my own blood. I don’t like bleeding my own blood.

When we did finally settle down to sleep, it was far from uninterrupted. I recall waking up twice for twenty to thirty minutes in my five or six hour slumber, and when I woke up again at midnight, I gave up and lay in darkness waiting for the others to rouse.

Fear my night-time photography skills.

After what seemed like eight millennia, our group set off into the night at around quarter-to-two. It was a desperately slow climb and the paths became steeper and steeper. From the light that our guide’s torch gave off, it looked as if we were climbing up Mt. Doom or another one of the Mordor mountains. I had managed to work my way through six bottles of water since the bottom, and I was running precariously low. Just when I thought I’d never see it, we arrived at the summit of Mt. Fuji, 3,776m above sea-level. With some hot food in us, we waited until around five-fifteen for the sun to rise; the light allowed for some pretty spectacular views and everyone seemed to be suitably amazed.

Sunrise on Fuji's summit.

The sun - it riseth.

Although I wasn’t truly flabbergasted by seeing a ball of burning hydrogen and helium float above the horizon, it was still quite the vista. Scouting around the volcanic crater, at six o’clock, we made our descent. Thankfully, it was nowhere near as difficult as the ascent, but it still took us close to three hours to make it back to the visitor’s centre. At this stage, my entire body felt as if it had received a serious beating from a heavyweight boxer – my back ached, my arse throbbed and perhaps worst of all, my accursed left shin was constantly reminding me that it was in a serious degree of pain. Finally making it back to the coach alive, we all fell asleep instantly as the tour-guide jawed about something in Japanese and waking up to him an hour or so later continuing his apparently rather long-winded speech.

Fuji's volcano crater.

On the way back down.

I was about to experience another Japanese curiosity – the onsen. Sausage-fest, meet your king.

It’s not my first winter trip to Japan (my very first being 2004-05) but this is twin’s first time to Japan in winter. Actually, Part Two of our earlier holiday in Aug 2007 where plans got ruined ‘coz of the heatwave at the time.

We learned our lesson the first time and are now planning every excruciating where? what? how? for each day. Booked the flight all the way back in July and hotel’s been booked for the first 10 days (the remaining ones will be done this month). Main base will be Osaka where I’m most familiar with from my exchange. The main highlights for this trip will be Onsen hopping and stay at a ryokan.

Spent the majority of last weekend planning and researching ryokans that we might book. As my next trip to Japan won’t be for another 1.5-2 years… we’re making the most of it by enjoying onsen as much as possible.

Plans:
22 Dec – arrive and remain in Osaka for shopping
23 Dec/24 Dec – proposed trip to Gero Onsen in Gifu Prefecture to meet up with a good friend. Possibly meeting up in Nagoya, with us from Osaka and friend from Tokyo. Should be able to time our arrivals close to each other with this site on Japanese rail & aviation timetables http://www.hyperdia.com
Onsen/ryokan in our mind is YUNOSHIMAKAN –> http://www.yunoshimakan.co.jp/index.html
And the room that I’m looking at is 深山荘 (miyamasou) –> http://www.yunoshimakan.co.jp/rooms/miyama.html ||
With 3 people cost is 16,850円 each, covering night stay and 2 meals –> http://www.yunoshimakan.co.jp/yunoshimakan/show.cgi?_detail=on&plan=13&ymd=.

To see their onsen: (both indoor and rotenburo)

http://www.yunoshimakan.co.jp/bath/

http://www.japaneseguesthouses.com/db/gifu/yunoshimakan.htm

Other onsen we’re planning on enjoying (if possible) will be Kinosaki Onsen in northern Hyogo Prefecture, with particular interest in – NISHIMURAYA HONKAN -> http://www.nishimuraya.ne.jp/honkan/english/index.html … then if permitting, instead of just a day trip to Arima Onsen (again Hyogo Prefecture) maybe a stay in Negiya Ryofukaku -> http://www.negiya.jp/yokujyo.html .

We’ve got a few other places lined up for day trips. Our definite one will be Koyasan (up the mountain we go) in Wakayama Prefecture – lovely prefecture whose seaside onsen and beach I enjoyed in 2007. Also in the itinerary will be day trips to the more northern side of Gifu Prefecture to Takayama & Shirakawa-go （ちょう）田舎なところだ。 Sis wants to also visit Kenrokuen in Kanazawa Prefecture.

Since we’re thinking to get a JR Pass, we might also be taking a day trip to Tokyo. Ikebukuro will be the destination – to assuage the fujoushi side of self. This one’s pending though as our main interest this time isn’t to shop or enjoy Japanese metropolitan life – it’s more our long-awaited trip to the rural and mountainous regions of 日本. A kind of Mushishi-like experience in terms of surroundings.

Cramming all this and a few other things from arrival in Japan on 22 Dec until 6 Jan when we fly back to AUS the following morning　and say goodbye to Japan once again.

And once again here are the screenshots  right from EARL BOX, the 5th episode of Sora no Otashimono! I don’t really have to much to say here (mainly cause I’m sick), except that I’ve read/seen this chapter in the manga before, but only in RAW format. It seemed interesting so maybe the episode won’t be too bad. And it looks as though we get some hotspring action , oooooo.

Monday 19th October – Ebisu-yu, Kurashiki

So the bath blog continues. Ah the excitement of reading about another bath!

After my mammoth ride through Shikoku (mammoth for me anyway) I ventured to Kurashiki for a one night stay in this historic town. This was my first visit and I was not disappointed. Kurashiki really is very charming and would definitely make an enjoyable one or even two night stay on any Japan holiday itinerary. However, the purpose of this blog section is not to talk about sightseeing but about baths.

On this occasion I was staying at the Hotel Resol (previously Grand Hotel 330), close to the old town district (although in Kurashiki everything is pretty close to the old town district). Being a Japanese bath addict and not wishing to break my run of 8 consecutive days of Japanese bathing I asked at the front desk if an onsen or sento was to be found in the local area. The girl seemed somewhat surprised by request and after a length study of the map identified Ebisu-yu. She estimated 15 minutes walk; I thought more like 5.

After a slight detour round the local elementary school playing field I eventually found the entrance to the sento. It was immediately apparent this is an authentic local bath house with a long history. So I ducked in through the “yu” noren and stepped back in time to an era when bath houses like this were to be found in every neighbourhood in Japan and the sento was a part of daily life and a chance to catch up on all the neighbourhood gossip.

Ebisu-yu is unique. Many of the fittings are original dating back some 130 years: The wooden lockers, tiny outdoor toilet (with modern era plumbing I hasten to add!), the stone bath tub. Even the oba-san taking the money is pretty original – she told me she had been working there for 40 years, and her mother for 40 years before that. And before that… her mother’s mother. And before that… she didn’t know! The changing room is small and adorned with rather scary looking devices; the massage chair which looks more like some kind of torture device; a mechanical rubber band the use of which I could not figure out; an ancient set of weighing scales (still accurate it seemed). The bath room itself is very simple: To the right, a set of taps serving up scolding hot water and regular cold mains water. To the left, the stone bath tub, as old as the bath house itself and according to the oba-san, the only one of its type in Okayama Prefecture. You won’t find any showers here – just plastic tubs to fill with water and pour over yourself whilst sitting upon really very small plastic stools. The water is searing hot and even for an old hand like myself more than 5 minutes at a time was too much.

Ebisu-yu Stone Bath - Simple but fantastic none-the-less

I was joined in the bath by three other guys. Two on holiday from Tokyo and one a local who had moved back to Kurashiki from Tokyo after the death of his mother and set up a small café and coffee shop in town – 64:8*8. The businessmen from Tokyo found it impossible to believe that in the UK we don’t have sento and onsen (with the exception of posh establishments like the Bath Spa, constructed at vast expense and at an ongoing cost to the Bath tax payer). If only we did!! I would be a happier man.

So after an hour or so of chat and extra hot bathing, I towelled off, put my jeans and shirt back on, had a drink of soda and stepped back out through the curtains into the real world – Another fabulous bath house experience and another demonstration of what the Japanese call “Hadaka no tomodachi”, or naked kinship. If you ever find yourself in Kurashiki, go and check this place out. It might be a relic of the past but for me, this is Japanese bathing culture at its best.

Google Map of Ebisu-yu

The changing room

Amanohashidate

Amanohashidate is one of Japan’s Top 3 views.  Along with Miyajima and Matsushima, it is considered beautiful.  In my previous posts, I have mentioned both Miyajima and Matsushima.  I was awestruck by the beauty of Miyajima and let down by Matsushima.  For the third year in a row, I went to visit one of Japan’s Top 3 views.  This time, I went with no expectations at all.  I was looking for a nice relaxing day and to just explore a remote area of Japan.  Getting to Amanohashidate is much harder than Miyajima and Matsushima.  Miyajima is difficult because you have to take a ferry.  Matsushima is difficult because it’s located outside Sendai.  Amanohashidate, however, is located far from Kyoto, and Kyoto is the nearest major city.  In fact, Kyoto is closer to the Pacific Ocean, and Amanohashidate is located on the Sea of Japan coast.  If you are travelling from Tokyo, expect to travel for roughly 5 hours.  Bring a fully charged iPod and you’ll be okay.

Traditional way to view Amanohashidate

Amanohashidate is famous because it’s a 3 km sand bar.  Translated, Amanohashidate means “Bridge in Heaven”.  The most famous thing to do, when visiting Amanohashidate is to venture up one of the nearby mountains, stand with your back facing the sand bar, and look at it from between your legs.  This gives the impression that the sand bar is actually in heaven, or heading to heaven.  You can do this on both sides of the sand bar, and it isn’t too expensive to head up.  When you do head up, be sure to take the chair lift.  It’s one of my favourite things to do in Japan.  These chair lifts are not like your traditional ski lifts.  Rather, they are simple chairs with almost no safety features whatsoever.  It can be a little scary at first, but it’s such a peaceful ride that you’ll feel almost as if you were floating in the chair.  Unfortunately, the views of the sand bar aren’t great from the chairlift.  If you head up from Amanohashidate station, you’ll have a little luck as the top of the hill has a small, and I really mean small, amusement park.  It’s probably great for kids, but for adults, it’s nothing special.  You can easily spend an hour just relaxing and taking your time wandering the area.

Omikuji

When you finish looking at the sand bar and get tired of seeing the same static views, Chionji is the only notable temple around the station.  It’s somewhat large for the population, but it isn’t bad.  I’d say it’s worth checking out, and don’t worry about time.  If you arrive on the late train, you’ll still have plenty of time to walk around the entire area as the first trains back to Kyoto aren’t until around dinner time.  The temple itself, however, isn’t special.  The main point of interest is probably the omikuji, fortunes.  They come in small wooden fans which are pretty cute, and I’ve never seen them in that form before.  From there, you can take a look at a type of key/lantern.  Located next to the bridge leading to Amanohashidate is a key that looks similar to an Egyptian Key.  Of course, it doesn’t look the same, but this key is supposed to bring luck for ships.  Many people climb into it and enjoy a picture with it.

Swing Bridge

Heading to Amanohashidate, you’ll have to cross a bridge.  This is a famous point for photos.  It’s an old swing bridge that opens up many times a day to allow the tour boats to pass.  It’s nice for photos, but after you’ve seen it once, there isn’t much of a point to wait for it a second time.  When you do cross the bridge, you’ll be on Amanohashidate.  This 3 km sand bar is easily traversed by bicycle, but if you feel up to it, feel free to run across.  It appears to be somewhat popular for locals looking for exercise to run up and down the sand bar.  You could also go for a nice swim as the beach is quite beautiful.  The water is very clean and there are various showers located along the beach.  Do note that the showers are turned on during the summer season only.  Also, be aware of traffic.  The sand bar is closed to cars, but motorcycles up to 50cc are allowed and maintenance trucks may travel along the sand bar on weekdays.  Located in the middle, there is a small shrine and various haiku passages.  A famous Japanese writer was inspired to write several haikus while in Amanohashidate.  If you didn’t bring your own bicycle, don’t worry.  Just rent one from one of the many souvenir shops next to Chionji Temple.

One of the last few things you can do is to take a boat ride to the northern shore.  While I never did this myself, it looks nice and it’s a good way to burn time.  The other is to head to the sento.  There is a nice looking sento located next to the station.  A sento is a Japanese public bath house.  The prices for bathing in this sento are a little expensive, but apparently there is a free foot bath in front of the sento.  If you need to pick up some gifts, Amanohashidate is famous for its black bean snacks.  While this is not for everyone, it is an option, and some of them are delicious.  They also have a few varieties of sake and shochu.  Amanohashidate also has a regional beer, but I never tried it.

Beach on Amanohashidate

Other than that, there really isn’t anything to do.  I’d suggest bringing a picnic and enjoying it on the beach.  Amanohashidate feels very remote and other than a few souvenir shops and touristy restaurants, there isn’t much to do.  Once you’ve seen the sand bar, that’s it.  Unlike the other two Top 3 views, there is much less to do here.  I do feel that it ranks in at number 2 compared to Matsushima, but by and far, Miyajima is still the best.  The best thing to do is to make the most of your time when you are in Amanohashidate.  Enjoy being out of the big city.  Relax at the beach.  Read a book.  Talk with your friends.  Enjoy a beer on the beach.  Do everything that you should do when you are on vacation, mainly relax!

Amanohashidate Information:

Japan Guide:  http://www.japan-guide.com/e/e3990.html
Wikipedia (minimal information at best):  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Amanohashidate
Wikitravel (the best guide, but still not great):  http://wikitravel.org/en/Amanohashidate
Official Site (Good information on events and tours, but no information on the sites themselves): http://www.joho-kyoto.or.jp/~center/english/shop/amanohashidate/

このblogは英語のblog。もし私の英語は難しい、日本語のquestionは大丈夫。

It is pretty well known that Japan is a land of natural hot springs. You may also be aware of the long history of bathing in Japan, a nation which was extolling the hygiene and relaxation benefits of a long soak when us Brits still thought taking a bath was a sure-fire way to an early grave! (click for an interesting history of bathing) What perhaps isn’t so well appreciated is quite is the sheer volume of bath houses across the whole of Japan. There are famous onsen areas such as Hakone, Kusatsu and Beppu where you can find a huge range of natural hot spring baths from the one pool variety with very basic facilities to the most luxurious spas where beautiful gardens and outdoor hinoki wood baths combine with massage and spa treatments for the ultimate relaxation experience. However, it is not just these famous areas that boast bath houses. In fact nearly very town in Japan will have a public bath. Most are not onsen but sento, bath houses where the water is heated from the mains in a more conventional fashion! But even without the mineral benefits of their volcanic cousins, sento still provide a great relaxation and social experience.

So without further ado, let’s move on to the purpose of this series of posts: I love onsen and sento. Ever since I first immersed myself in the steaming hot waters of a Kyoto bath house surrounded by members of the local Yakuza gang I was hooked. And so this series will be dedicated to my Japanese bath experiences. Every time I get naked, you get to read about it! But do not worry – read is the important word. No pictures!

Sunday 12th October 2009: Kyoto – Funaoka Onsen

Get naked in style - Funaoka Onsen, Kyoto

Kyoto is not a place usually associated with bathing. However, as the capital of Japanese history and culture and a city where traditional ways live on more than in most, the city offers a fantastic range of bath houses. If you want onsen you will have to travel outside the city to Kurama just to the north east, but if you are just looking for a good Japanese bath there are plenty to choose from.

This trip to Japan began for me with a stay at Kyoto’s Brighton Hotel, a top 4 star establishment located north of the city centre, close to the Imperial Palace. This is not an area I had stayed in previously so I was on the look out for a good bath option. After all, 10 hours on a plane can leave you feeling pretty drained and in need of relaxation and refreshment. Fortunately the concierge was on hand to give me what transpired to be a superb recommendation.

Funaoka Onsen is to be found in the narrow back streets just north of the Nishijin textile area. I was on a bike and therefore it took a little bit of finding as I tried to be good and not go the wrong way down the one way streets, a policy I was eventually forced to abandon! However, after a short while trying to find my way down the streets not marked on the map provided by the hotel, I came across the building I was looking for. The first thing that was immediately apparent was this place is popular. Sunday night is always a good night for going to the bath house but there were perhaps 20 bicycles parked up outside the entrance. This is not, in my experience, usual. As you step in through the ‘Yu’ curtain shoes are deposited as you would expect and there is a small wooden reception counter where you hand over your 340 yen. It is always good to remember that towels are not usually provided at sento (you can rent them or buy if you do arrive towel-less) so it is a good idea to bring your own. Hotels don’t mind you taking theirs as long as you bring them back!

Funaoka Onsen is not in actual fact, an onsen at all, but rather a classic Taisho era sento in a residential neighbourhood close to Daitokiji Temple complex. This local style sento has bags of character and provides a fantastic Japanese bath experience for first timers and aficionados alike. The changing rooms are surrounded by a dramatic carved wooden frieze depicting scenes from Taisho era life including it would seem, soldiers doing battle during the several expansionist wars of that time. Much of the building itself is constructed from blue granite which so characterised architecture at that time. As you sit in the outside hinoki wood bath the whole building appears to be almost floating as you look across to a small pond that deceptively runs underneath the main structure. Look out for the giant carp gliding through the dark waters.

The bath house itself offers a wide range of different baths amongst them a bath with powerful jets to massage your body, one with a stream of water that pours down ferociously upon your head and back, a medicinal bath with added herbs as well as an outdoor hinoki ofuro (Japanese Cypress). And of course the obligatory cold plunge bath for cooling off after a long session in the sauna. For anyone who enjoys the Japanese bath experience Funaoka Onsen is a fantastic place to go for a long soak in historic surroundings.

Google Map of Funaoka Onsen

Till now I couldn’t find any dvd or bluray releases for the Akikan! series, but after going through its OVA (dvd version) – I think there wont be any ecchi scenes to scout for. See the images below, opening theme similar from the series itself.

Thanks to eagle-eyed John, he managed to spot a nipple-slip scene in this ova . Looks like I have to continue looking for the dvd release again.

Random caps

Other screenshots