Touching Eastern Hokkaido: trying to eke out the last of winter

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Asahikawa was on our radar as a near destination for the final rail pass day, and a civilised early afternoon departure time. I used the Furatto complex again once it opened at 10, feeling quite reassured with attentive pool attendants, patrons being temperature tested on entry, and people staying masked up to the poolside. So different.



Kaguraoka park is one stop short of the Asahikawa terminal. As well as spotting birds in winter when the trees are bare, because it’s snowed over it becomes a cross country ski trail, where mostly older citizens of Asahikawa were practicing. The snow melt made harder work of some sections up to the bridge without snow shoes, and with a brief trip after to Chikabumi (where we simply ran out of train connection time to get to the park), the shoes would be relegated to another day. There was something quite appropriate to coming here, as we admired the dense train lines and setting sun over the suburbs. Where tourists don’t seem to go.



One Hokkaido pass was done with until the next 7-day.



Forced off the rail transport for a day was timely, with rain setting in that afternoon, and as we queried ‘would we see snow falling again?’. While P2 went off to photograph possibly the smallest train station in Hokkaido, I had a stint on the snow shoes in Asahigaoka park before routing back via the Sorachi river trails. Each step felt soggier and deeper. I popped out on to a road around ten minutes walk from the hotel, and as luck had it, the fully booked hairdresser near the hotel was soon to be replaced with the Cut Hirai salon in that part of town. Hirai-ito san himself had space, and like the posture of a martial arts expert, he crouched, pivoted foot to foot, and paid attentive care to every snip. Surprisingly, P2 commented, one can come to a foreign land and still my diamond shape hair can be replicated. The curl fascinated Hirai-ito san, as it hasn’t me for most of my life.



Reconciling the weather, weekend traffic and plans, we tried unsuccessfully to book seats to Abashiri, at least together, when having 3.5 hours with a stranger was not the first choice. Crossing fingers for later in the weekend, we rejigged it all to depart on a Sunday.



So Biei was a wander for a few hours, and not without passing the 100 yen shop for rail tag replacement, and taking in the view of the red rail bridge. Our walking route was getting rather suburban, so later that afternoon we chose what the Furano tourist office referred to as the “if you’re feeling adventurous” Nemuro line. Travelling as freight on a grey day to Kami-Ashibetsu, involving 7 minutes of tunnel, certainly was, and poor Kami-Ashibetsu did not have the most specced up facility. This was the territory of the rumbling freight train ‘Big Bear’ that we heard idling from our window, and it is very much a functional train line. Still, the lake views were beautiful and it was so quiet. Not even a vending machine.



Mixing up the train travel directions, we chose the 10am train to a rainy Nishinaka the following day, with promises of quality baked goods from Yamanaka bakery. The lady who sold us what became a sizeable bag of delicious treats had been running her small business from this pretty little building for eight years, hidden on the back roads from Nishinaka to Nakafurano. Such was her surprise to see us in this location on a particularly wet day, she asked ‘did we live here?’. This was the kind of hidden culinary gem we needed to keep seeking out.



Deviating to the Bestem mart, not passing up a supermarket visit nor hot drink, the checkout operator swiftly took over my coin purse for the four yen she had spotted. “You have good eyes”, I said. She laughed, and we headed off to Nakafurano with warm vending machine Ayatake matcha latte drinks in our pockets.



The rainy afternoon lended itself to anything indoors, and contingencies. Decisions were made for the following week to Sapporo ahead of the Abashiri weekend, and we could focus on how else to extract use from our rail passes.



We’d never been to a small town named Yamabe.



At this time, snow was still around deeply there, and from the Heiwa bridge we had a spectacular late afternoon view of Mount Ashibetsu. It could definitely be snow shoed and cross country skied by the river in parts, with the odd barrier across deterring passage. One particularly old shrine was whizzed past quickly, before returning to our Furano base.



As relaxing as our selected daytime onsens have been, with nobody with us, the night before leaving for Abashiri was anything but. With a different diet to usual (probably salt and sugar related), distressingly all my afternoon contents came up before dinner. The shoe was on my foot from the last trip, when P2 got crook, but this felt next level. Fortunately there was no temperature or fever, and directly linked to a small amount (normally not eaten) of chocolate eclair. Which luckily didn’t affect who it was shared with!



Bouncing back, 5am came around abruptly, and the fist pumping “gambaramasu” (you can do it!) was recalled from the Natulux staff the night before. Sunday train timetables gave us a generous Asahikawa station layover that there could have been time for a quick XC ski or shoe, before breakfast, being the trails were literally two minutes from the train departure gates, and no shops were yet open.



As expected, the fairly full Abashiri bound train weaved it’s way east to Kamikawa, Engaru, Kitami and arriving to Abashiri after midday, to a posse of amateur looking photographers keen to record what we later determined to be one of the last rides this express train would do. And that would explain the randomly placed ‘train spotters’ on snowy banks, increasing over the journey, and a very coincidentally positioned white Toyota station wagon with a banner “sayoonara 183-8565”. Goodbye to diesel.



Too early to check in at the Dormy inn Abashiri, we left a grab bag of items and headed off on a long walk with our packs, packed lunch and water. Fortunate with the fine day, we’d views for miles towards the Shiretoko mountain chain (Mt Shiretoko, Mt Shiretoko-iou, Mt Rousu, Mt Onnebetsu) visible from the Mt Tentozan observatory and, a first, sea ice. Further down the road southwards we chose, walking short sections with busier traffic, we turned off westward at Yobito, to see the sunsetting side of Lake Abashiri-ko. Frozen lakes are definitely another first, and the silence (apart from the woodpeckers) was ours.



The rooftop onsen was promptly sought, and the moments brief outside in the 42C water given the surge of incoming patrons after 6.30. Small as Dormy sometime is, but outdoors. Just in time.



Cloudy the following day, we made a short trip eastward to Kitahama beside lake Tofutsu, which as one of the several quasi national parks around, was a haven for water birds and had far less ice. A new word for the day was exercised in conversation with a Japanese man - samuzamu, meaning bleak / chilly, offset with the word kirei, beautiful.



Back in town, the connection to Asahikawa was easily made after having a quick lunch by one of the bridges on the waterways. Dedicated train lovers still lurked around the train number signs, and generally recording its final days with a lot of photo taking.



Snow fall, perhaps the last, was hoped for, and in the hills and town coming back on the train, we saw only rain. But luckily a few centimetres had fallen on the otherwise icy slopes around Hakuginso and Mount Tokachi, and as our last chance for a high snowy hike was a weekday, unsurprisingly we joined a small bus of mainly elderly residents on their way to that one destination, for a long soak between the (free for March) bus times.



Fukiage onsen was the reward we had for a steep hike that took us up and up, above the refuge hut, to about 1450m altitude. Within sight of the fumaroles of Tokachi, and blessed with mostly blue sky, it was every bit as beautiful as 6 years before. The many skiers we saw slogging up to the summit would have their challenge on the down. It was definitely icy, so the spikes of our shoes, and all 42C of the onsen, were appreciated!



We clocked up another picnic spot of great note, downing the instant soup, shredded cabbage, and vege egg rolls ubiquitous of Japanese food stores.



The big repack began, and it was a little shock to the system lugging it up and down the stairwells at Furano station. There’s been no need for a regular strengthening regime on this trip.



Arriving to an extra hectic looking Sapporo station was the worrying clue, and seeking a coin locker was an intense mission. Once one single one was spotted, it was equally wanted by more arriving passengers. We squashed two large roller backpacks into one of the ¥700 lockers, mine upside down and assisted by a knee up from below to close the door. I entered the multiple ¥100 coins which was the only acceptable coinage, as P2 did the mechanical shut. Hiking around Otaru with a backpack and bike saddle bag would be todays exercise.



So it transpired, the crowds of young and youthful continued on both the train and town of Otaru, and something festival-like was definitely up. The JR reservation agent the following day knew of no festival or weekday crowd reasons, but our research found either a fertility festival or something similar, judging from other regional Japan festivals on the 15th March. Fortunately, few were up at Suitengu shrine to spoil the quiet and a grand coastal view. We even chanced on the backpackers I stayed at 15 years ago, Otarunai.



Being back in our Sapporo apartment felt homely, without the hotel limitations we’ve had. Avocado toast and eggs for breakfast for a few days, fried slices of eggplant (unusually cheap in the shops), and our own washer. I was very content.



With the weather taking a wet turn, we tossed up the destinations of coastal Muroran or inland Iwamizawa. We went for cliffs and rock stacks (alike to our Tawharanui trips) with smatterings of shrines and rail heritage, seeing a steam locomotive a short walk from the Muroran station. An elderly yookan seller looked at us as we passed her nearby shop, and yookans could never be passed up on. Maybe it was a slow day, as I got a very deep bow as a thank you for my small purchase.



Atop Mount Sokuryo, with typical TV towers and transmitters, through dark clouds we could see all the way to Komagatake across the water, and west toward Niseko. A fatigued wander down then allowed time to take coastal pathways, as we walked down to the station. Misplacing a quantity of yen at the supermarket before we left, and then, stressfully, safely retrieving it, reinforced that my paper money protection system was dodgy. Solution, split as many €1000 notes I can at vending machines and only use coin? In my ¥100 shop “bake some bread” purse.



‘Town n around’ was a loose plan after that experience, with Nopporo in the afternoon.



Up early enough to get the view I’d hoped for, I headed to Kotoni on the 8.54am train. Mentally prepped for the 30 min urban walk first, I wondered if I’d mistakenly left the snow shoes behind when I found the trailhead, with hanging spare poles, and snow shoed or crampon fitted older people. Town was thawing but Mount Sankaku was still icy and snow clad. Those other hikers were hardy, with the steep clamber to one summit needing strong legs and balance to propel oneself, and some were not always doing so in a duo/ trio for safety. I like seeing fit older folks!



I couldn’t wait to gloat to P2 about the light snow flurry of that morning, when catching up again in town, it got heavier and heavier. Going out four train stops to Nopporo, the temperature had definitely dropped. Grey clouds broke to steady snow fall as we wandered through a portion of the forest.



We hoped. The snow manifested.



And we sauntered back through a quiet and architecturally interesting neighbourhood for our train home, getting ideas for the future dream.

Was three nights in Sapporo enough? We repacked again.



Taking the 10:57 departure for Hakodate, passing familiar friends like Muroran and the south coast, spring had certainly hit hard with no snow on the ground and warmer temperatures than Sapporo in the high single digits. We knew the rooftop open air onsen would be in demand, and once we got past the melee of the hotel reception, it was straight up to a towering floor 18.



And what a view. Fortunately each one was to be rotated between men and women daily, as P2 later recounted stories of modesty shade cloth concealing a full scenic view, when I could have easily stood up and waved to visitors to the old ship by the hotel, the Mashu Maru.



The onsen began to get crowded out after 4, once we were cleaned and done, and we became familiar as the days here wore on with the slow elevator (two for 18 floors seems not quite enough) and popularity of it due seemingly from the ‘go-to-travel’ campaign, and government subsidised discounts for Japanese residents staying at the hotel.



Of the two days to play with and the weather looking fine and mild, we set off on one of the only two morning trains to Niyama. Formerly a ski resort, it did seem to have seen better days, with safety bars and various seat planks conspicuously lacking on the chair lift. A google review of the station and toilets as (translated) “bitter” was an interesting but apt explanation. I road tested the toilet, and can confirm.



Snow shoes safely packed up in the hotel, we could certainly have used them in the softer snow, and to ascend the final (steeper and secondary Kijihiki viewpoint) climb. Not impassable and therefore a good calf workout, within grand views of Komagatake and the lakes of Onuma.



Onsen seen to on return mid-afternoon, the rest of the day played out easily as the body demanded. We did not need to join the mass tourist exodus to the summit on the ropeway for a stellar sunset, seen even on floor 7.



The famous Goryookaku park became our morning trip the next day, with many more faces around town indicating Hanami was imminent. This place, in full bloom at high season, shows off the star shaped garden in a magnificent form, if you’re prepared for queues to get up the viewing tower. Trees with buds, to a blue sky backdrop and modest amounts of people at ground level, was nonetheless beautiful to us. Shunning the packed street cars on the main road to and fro (although it’s great to see this transport form has not died here!), we had a good leg stretch on the flat, with several locals walking or cycling the ‘red person’ at pedestrian intersections, and followed by my idea, walking up Mount Hakodate.



The well formed path we took, with diminishing but solid snow on the northern slopes, made easy work over 2km. And what an incredible lunch spot we got, visibility being at its best for our last few days. Down a different and partly overgrown path to the Jitsugyooji temple, weaving back through the sometimes ramshackle parts of suburban Hakodate, and we were back at the dinky old seafood market beside our hotel that did not even show up on google maps. Old beside new, and ramshackle or not, it’s good seeing that authenticity and history have not been lost here, yet.



Curry takeaways made dinner an easy affair, before the inevitable pack up. We, in tired words from another active day, mused on everything we’d been mentally challenged by here. Giving energy to the positive exchanges and positive experiences we’d had, simply just had to continue.



So it was apt that we then traveled on the Equinox, a public holiday, packed together with sniffling strangers, in a fast metal tube to Nagano. The Vivaldi four seasons music piped from the pier of the Hakodate marina that morning was remembered, and marked goodbye to wintry times.



“I see blossom”!

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