Where Westie gets naked in public. Now do you wish you were here?

Wednesday 16th September to Wednesday 23rd September

The home of indigenous peoples. The land of the gods. A geological textbook of volcanic landforms. The brewery of Japan. Home to it's last wilderness. Hokkaido can be described in many terms, but all of them identify it's unique nature both in Japan and in this part of the world. The northern-most island of 'mainland' Japan, it's climate is that of Siberia, which is only a few miles across the water from it - from November to April the land is covered in astonishing amounts of snowfall and the sea is full of the southernmost reach of Artic drift ice. Intensely volcanic, it is covered in dramatic mountains, coniferous forests, bubbling hot springs and a generous scattering of bears, amongst some other ridiculous number of species. More simply put, Hokkaido is Westie porn, and along with Yakushima, one of the primary destinations around which I had planned my Nipponese adventure.

Strange then, that it was somewhat to my own surprise that I found myself in Sapporo on 16th September.

Having spent Wednesday in Morioka and seen the festival parade (and tried not to laugh at the poor sodden participants) I decided to alter my plans slightly and head straight for Hakodate, the southern-most city of Hokkaido and the gateway to the island that evening instead. However, it turned out that I got even further ahead of myself than this, as when I arrived in Hakodate it was 2am, and everything, *everything* was closed and deserted. Not even a manga kissa (24hr internet cafe) flashed its neon lights at me. Consequently, after about 5 minutes vaguely wandering around the deserted streets, I got myself back on exactly the same train that I had just disembarked, and continued on the sleeper route to Sapporo, the premier city of Hokkaido, arriving at about 7am.

Remarkably, Hokkaido was not actually colonised by the Japanese until the early 19th century and the Meiji Restoration, and before then was almost entirely occupied by the Ainu, the indigenous peoples. Somewhat akin to the Inuit (as far as I can tell from the little information I have gleaned), they hunted across the ice in winter and grew crops for clothing and food in summer, largely without cities or settled habitations. The Ainu are a vanishing people now, and given that they were only officially recognised as an indigenous group in 2008, their culture has almost entirely disappeared, although efforts are being belatedly made by tourism and governmental boards to preserve or commemorate it. With regards to Sapporo and other Hokkaido cities however, it means that the temples, shrines and other relics of thousands of years of Buddhism in Japan are largely absent. Instead, you get strangely colonial American architecture in their older buildings, like the famous Clocktower (see picture), and 19th century Botanical Gardens rather than Edo-era formal Japanese gardens (due to the Anglo-phile, or more, accurately, err... Americano-phile(?) sensibilities of the Meiji era) . It was around such (slightly surreal) buildings and parks that I spent my day in Sapporo, cafe hopping in the afternoon as it got colder, and spending the night in a manga kissa as a substitute for a hostel or hotel.

Whilst I had enjoyed my time in Sapporo and Morioka, (and the following day, in Kushiro), these few days were probably my lowest point so far in my trip. Whilst entirely pleasant, these cities don't actually have too much to them, and once I had spent a morning tramping the pavements and seeing the sights, there, well... there wasn't actually masses to do. Even though this was the case, I still felt like I was wasting what limited time I had in Japan by sitting in cafes and reading, and it made me a touch grumpy for a few days. Then again, it was probably the withdrawal symptoms from alcohol finally kicking in properly... I am not accustomed to limiting my alcohol intake based on monetary reasons, and I don't think it agrees with me.

In any case, I hightailed it from Sapporo the following morning and headed to Kushiro on the far east coast (no Shinkansen in Hokkaido so the trains take a LOT longer). I was intending to use Kushiro as the stepping point for an exploration of Shiretoko National Park, and was staying with a couchsurfer there, another Adam, for the night. Unfortunately I can't tell you much about Kushiro, as I set off when I arrived to a wetland observatory (Kushiro is based right by the huge Kushiro Shitsugen National Park, a *massive* wetland system that is the migratory and breeding grounds for hundreds of birds, including the enormous and iconic Japanese cranes). The observatory over the vast river plain was very nice, though crane-free, and I spent a pleasant 40 mins strolling around enjoying the sunshine. However, then I descended back down to the tiny train platform to discover that the next train was not for another FOUR hours. I have since learnt to always, ALWAYS check the train times in rural Hokkaido before gambolling merrily off into the middle of nowhere. Also bring warm clothes - it gets damn cold in the evening, as I was dismayed to realise at this particular point.

Anyway, by the time I finally made it back into the city, it was only about an hour before I was due to meet Adam, so I am afraid I must leave you un-enlightened to the wonderous tourist possibilities in Kushiro. On the other hand, I can tell you that they have good bars. I had been looking forward to meeting Adam a lot, and he had another couchsurfer staying with him too - Hiya, from Brooklyn. She actually had a proper Brooklyn accent like they do in gangster films - it was awesome. We ended up going to the bar when Adam works, which was largely a first for me, as Japanese bars are largely inaccessible to foreigners. Firstly, they don't really advertise with signs or anything like that, and are often behind a closed door up some stairs somewhere. Secondly, they often have no fixed prices, and the 'hostess' can charge any amount they like as a cover charge for getting in and then for drinks. I had been warned off them by most gaigin I had met living in Japan unless I was feeling particularly flush for some reason. However, given that Adam worked there in addition to his teaching job, we were sorted, and spent a happy, if blurry night debating... um... Great White Sharks and 'straight pride', I seem to remember. Unfortunately Adam had to head off to work early the next morning and my train was at 11, so I didn't get to spend that much time with him and Hiya, which was kind of a shame, as they were good company. However, time was pressing onwards.

During my exile in nowheresville the day before, I had been doing some thinking about my plans for my final week in Hokkaido. The ultimate plan had always been Shiretoko National Park, a world heritage site on a peninsula jutting out into the Sea of Okhotsk and a *complete* wilderness, with no roads, public transport, villages or shops, but with a healthy proportion of brown bears, whales, seals, sealions and fish owls. Back in England it had sounded like paradise, but having experienced isolation in Yakushima, and in the current position of sitting at a train station miles from bleeding anywhere, I wasn't sure it was really such a good idea. I mean, the park was *so* much of a protected wilderness that you couldn't even really hike there, as there weren't any trails. The hostel was visited by about a single bus a day, and I had a feeling even the dubious delights of Ritz crackers three times a day wouldn't be available. Kind of gutted, I decided to give up on the idea of Shiretoko and instead go to Akan National Park, closer and slightly more settled, but apparently equally as beautiful.

People have often said that the detours or the unplanned destinations on trips sometimes turn out to be the best. Akan National Park remains my absolute favourite place in Japan, and the best decision I have made so far. Characterised by two beautiful caldera lakes (namely, volcanos that have exploded and collapsed, leaving a deep crater behind that has subsequently filled with water), hot springs, and active volcanos, it is paradise. Honestly. After arriving at my youth hostel around lunchtime, I almost immediately set off by bus to Mashu-ko, one of the hitherto mentioned caldera lakes, and apparently the most beautiful lake in Japan. Now I haven't seen all of Japan's lakes, not even their 'Top 100 bodies of water', but I can confirm that Mashu-ko is breathtaking. It's really deep and a perfect dark blue colour, with the remaining volcano crater behind it, and a tiny island in the centre that was thought by the Ainu to be the island of the gods. It holds the world record for water visibility, and in winter when it freezes, the water is so deep and so clear that the ice is transparent. It must be absolutely beautiful. The lakeside is completely inaccessible, but I hiked between viewpoints gazing at the vistas of the National Park stretching out around me, before catching the last bus back to the hostel.

The next morning I set off early, the lovely hostel manager giving me a lift into Mashu so I could catch an earlier bus (the hostel was only served by infrequent buses, as per) to Kawayu onsen, a hot springs town right in the middle of the park. It's crazy here - the rivers running through the town are the temperature of a kettle, and steam rises out through the drains and gutters. Every hotel has its own baths, and there are free foot baths by the station and river where you can soak your feet in blissfully hot water. The whiff of sulpher is everywhere, the rivers and streams a rather alarming acidic green colour. From Kawayu I rented a bike (free with your bus ticket - excellent stuff) and rode around Lake Kussharo the second, larger and more accessible caldera lake of the area, with its own version of the Loch Ness Monster, 'Kussie'. Sadly no sightings however, perhaps she was bathing in a hot-spring of her own? I stopped off at Sunayu onsen, a beach where the sand is warm, and if you dig yourself a hole, you'll hit water boiling hot water at a depth of only about 30cm. Hot springs under beaches are DEFINITELY something we could do with in England to accompany our usual beach attire of woolly jumpers and waterproofs. From there I cycled down to the Wakoto peninsula, which is completely remote apart from a campsite, but has several free (mixed!) public rotemboro, i.e. outside baths. Now, thus far I had been in hotel or hostel baths, and public sentos, but I had been lucky in that this had all been separated by sex, and for the most part, empty but for me. These rotemboro were just open air hot pools with no bathhouses, screens, nothing. The one mentioned in the tourist literature was right by a campsite, and whilst I can stomach the idea of getting my kit off if everyone else is naked too, being naked *on my own* whilst a load of campers wander past fully dressed might be more of a challenge. Getting my nerve up, I went for a mini hike around the peninsula to see the 'Wakoto hell' where hot water bubbles out of the cliff at lake side, sending plumes of sulpherous smoke into the air. Part way round, however, I spied at the bottem of the cliff a tiny ring of stones that looked like an abandoned rotemboro. I had to bushwack down to it, as the path had long since overgrown, and found my suspicions were correct. On the edge of the lake itself where a hot spring met the water, stones had been placed to make a tiny little sheltered pool. There was no-one around and the rotemboro could hardly be seen from the path above, so I took the plunge, stripped off, and went in. So fit, honestly. Sitting in hot water, completely alone, looking out across this magnificant landscape. About the only thing that could have possibly made it more amazing was if it was winter and I was surrounded by snow and ice on every side as I sat in my natural little jacuzzi. Even the discovery of a dead fish in there with me which I had to chuck out into the lake only ruined the mood a little bit....

Soaking and gloating completed, I climbed back out and re-robed, finishing approximately 2 seconds before 2 Japanese blokes on jet skis rounded the peninsula about 10 metres away from me. Perhaps somebody up there does like me after all? Thanking every deity and demi-god ever invented by mankind (and possibly some that have not before been invoked) that I had not exposed myself wantonly to strangers (they were in wetsuits, smug bastards), I hiked back to where I had left my bike, and started the long cycle back around the lake. 50 kilometre round trip that was. Sounds impressive, even if it wasn't really. Finally, I pushed my weary legs onwards to Mount Izo, an active volcano in the middle of the park, that spews continual steam from its fumeroles, in a hellish scene that only needed a couple of deer performing suspicious acts on sinners to make it a Hieronymus Bosch painting. It was crazy to stand so close to these pressure valves of a volcano and know that basically, it could go off at any point (although, of course, a big explosion is highly unlikely). The scenery was beautiful nonetheless. I made it back to Kawayu onsen in time to catch the last bus back to the hostel, which went via Mashu-ko, so I was able to see the lake shrouded by evening too, which finished off the day perfectly. Pretty much one of the greatest days in the history of great days to be honest - no rushing but no hanging around, cheap as hell, lots of exercise, lakes, volcanos, magnificant scenery, public nakedness.... what more could you want? As I said, one of the best 'plan B's' ever.

What's more, when I was checking out the bus and train timetables that evening, I discovered that from here it was actually quite easy to get to Shiretoko's one town, the base of the most of the tourist opportunities, and feasible to see the park as a daytrip, even though the extended isolation experience that I had originally imagined was still a bit unfeasible. So as well as Akan National Park and such a great time there, I could still get to fulfull the dream that was Shiretoko too! When I arrived the next day about lunchtime it was surprisingly busy, as 'Silver Week' a week-long national Japanese holiday was just starting, but luckily it was *just* still in season so there was one bus running at least. When I got to Utoro I found that, due to extremely rough seas, the sightseeing boats that run round the peninsula had been cancelled for the day, which was a bit disappointing. However, after further research I discovered that the whales and seals and all the various other marine delights which I had been envisioning actually hung out on the other side of the cape anyway, where these boats didn't run. Also, this gave me more time to explore the park itself. As I said, the park is too wild and too protected to have significant hiking trails, but there was a 5km boardwalk you could do around the Shiretoko-go-ko (Five Lakes) which was stunningly beautiful, as well as some side trails down to the cliff edge and waterfalls and so on. It was prime bear-spotting time as well, so I held out hopes, but unfortunately this was not a hope that the nature centres/tourist centres/guidebooks.... ok, well everybody but me, encouraged. There were loads of signs telling you how to avoid the bears and what to do if you encounter them (main point, in case you ever encounter one in Milton Keynes or something, is never ever run or scream), and all the shops and centres sold bear bells and spray which you were supposed to jangle in order to warn them off, all of which the Japanese tourists bought with enthusiasm. Unfortunately, none of the signs of brochures tell you what to do if one of your lifetime dreams is to see brown bears in the wild (I suspect it goes along the lines of 'rub a dead fish all over you'). This is probably because bears tend to attack humans, and no-one else is as stupid as me. I reckon a little mauling would be worth it though, don't you? In any case, the surplus of tourists and the overwhelming and continual chimes of those flipping bells meant no bears for me. I *suppose* its a good thing. If I had seen one I'd have probably been so excited I would have had a accident and been left with an embarrasing stain all the way to Abashiri. I'll just have to hold out for Canada. Maybe incontinence is looked upon with more favour there.

After my day of wide-eyed wandering, feeling very pleased to have made it here, I headed onwards to Abashiri, the home of my last generous host, Kazuto. Again, didn't get to see much of it, as I arrived at night and had to leave fairly early the next morning, but in winter it sounds amazing there - the sea is full of drift ice and they have ice breaker boats for whale watching, as well as skiing and snowboarding and all that jazz. I am most definitely gonna have to come back here. Kazuto was fantastic as well. A Japanese student, he's been travelling loads, so speaks amazing English, and we proceeded to get absolutely smashed in his apartment. Bless the Japanese and their inability to hold alcohol! I had a great night.

The following morning, only slightly hung over, I headed for the last of my Hokkaido destinations, and final National Park, Daisetzan. This unfortunately involved spending a night in a manga kissa in Asahikawa, the nearest large city, as with the holiday I could only obtain one night's stay in the park, but actually I quite enjoyed Asahikawa. Not that it was a particularly attractive city, but for some strange and unknown reason its main street reminded me of Weston-Super-Mare high street. Of all the dumps in the world to be reminded of....(!) but there we are; it naturally makes you relax and feel more at home. Anyway, Daisetzan. This is another in these amazing landscapes of mountains and volcanos and hot springs, but higher in altitude, so that the firs and birches have largely given way to low-lying alpine plants. Looks a bit like the Lake District, and possibly the most beautiful scenery I have seen thus far. Arrived at lunchtime to Ashidake onsen resort and checked into my hostel (quite posh in comparison to most of the places I've stayed), then went for a ramble for a few hours in the surrounding area. Autumn had really come properly in this area, so the forests were beautiful. Plus, because I was staying in another onsen resort, the hostel had both indoor and outdoor baths (a beauiful rotemboro surrounded by rocks and ferns and steam - blissfull). This one I had to really bite the bullet, as the baths were always full of people (thankfully women only), and you just have to get on with it. To be honest, I was ok with it (I would far rather be naked with strangers than with friends!!) I figure I get off lucky being a girl though, as a Mexican chap I met in Tokyo told me that in the male onsen, the Japanese and Koreans actually *make comments* to him vis a vis, well, Western men 'size issues', and his own in particular. He said it's the most uncomfortable thing ever. Hahaha.

Anyway, the big trek I had intended to do the following day turned out to be a round trip of 18 hours, which was a littttttle ambitious seeing as I had to catch the 17.30 bus, so instead I headed up the cable car near to the peak of Mt Ashidake early in the morning, and did a beautiful 5 hour or so trek across the park to the peak of Mt Nakadake. As I said, ridiculously amazing scenery, lovely trek, pretty much perfect actually. I really do love Hokkaido, and I'm so glad it lived up to the hopes I had of it, even though I only had just over a week to appreciate it. Definitely a trip back in February I feel.

Sadly though, that was it for my time in Hokkaido this trip. That night I caught the train back to Sapporo and manga kissa-ed it again (seriously, we need these back in England), and then a full day's travelling to Tokyo the following day. The consolation, of course, was that I was going to see the sumo.....

Sorry about all the photos on this one, but they're some of my best and favourites!

Stayed:
Sapporo - Comic Land manga kissa. 1,700Y for 12 hours, free cold and hot drinks, food available.
Akan National Park - Mashu Youth Hostel. 3,500Y for dorm bed. Big rooms and bath facilities, lovely hostel owner who will pick you up and drop you off at the train station. However, no kitchen facilities, so bring ready cooked cold food with you.
Daisetzen National Park - Shirakabasu Youth Hostel, Ashidake. 4,500Y for dorm bed. The most expensive place I stayed, but also one of the nicest, and the cheapest available. Kitchen available, indoor and outdoor baths, observatory room. Close to the cable car and bus stops.

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Part of trip: Japan and Vietnam

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