Snow to city - pass the sake for goodness sake, I'm losing my soba noodle

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Morioka. Town of bridges, bathroom sized hotel rooms and, behold, the Shinkansen starts to hasten our slow local train trip to date.



Questioned by John from the ‘Gong in Furano as to our stay here (“why?” implying a wasted pause), our contingencies meant for overnight stop only, and with a short nostalgic stint wandering the river side the next day, it was a fast transit on to our first of 2 trains bound for Nozawa Onsen



Known for its multiple free bathing facilities and apparent authenticity, the omiyage shops greeted us, inviting appreciation of the local sake, steamed rice bun vendors creating towering loops of vapour and modestly crowded streets. A steep descent to Miyazawa pension near the base of Nagasaka chair lift was worthwhile when our hosts offered free espresso, free wifi, and, accordingly sign posted, ‘freedom’ (of waxing). Translations, always interesting, and double bedding, almost elusive.



Our afternoon of bright sunlit mountain activity included some snow shoe trail making around the old Nagano Olympic site, thanks to gear hired from Kanamori sports, and my persuasiveness that photos and activity were compatible. Icing sugar laced the trees like a dressed cake, and our achy inner thighs from plunging deep with each foot eased afterwards with that ubiquitous onsen experience



Konban wa! The locals called in an area no bigger than a kitchen, crouched on tiled floors at Oyu onsen, a free example of how volcanic waters are channelled into public bathing facilities throughout this town. I doused my face.



Dame desu! The women with a towel on her head called



Abunai? I questioned. Yes, dangerous, no good, do not drink



So entering this cauldron took as long as the entire last onsen experience and by half hour, our set time, we were both loose as 2 gooses, again and pink as a snow monkey’s face. Without cash flow and an ATM at the ready (this was a one horse town heaving with tourists and no after hours money facility), anywhere with credit card did it for tea, and truly hit the spot on a cool (yet not by Hokkaido standards) night

Day two here, some more hiking was planned on the sunny side of the valley. A tardy start meant we passed several of a national XC ski team training in the Nozawa course. A 1000 hip flexor strained steps later and we'd made 100 metres progress, to a blissfully clear cool day. Giving way to bus times and contingencies of temple photography and we were en route to Iiyama on a money machine mission. Easily fixed at the local 7/11 store, we headed to our furry friends at Jigokudani.

A year beforehand, their memory of my visitation was clearly hazy and so with flash Harry somewhere in the crowds, an icy walk resulted in much primate behaviour antics, and that was just the self stick users (incidentally banned). Making a tight connection back to Tokyo via Nagano and Iiyama again and we crumpled into a bowl of cheap cheerful Sukiya

Our energy levels started to level off mid way in our winter adventure. The Asahi was getting low and our temperatures after the last snow hike as hot as a public Nozawa onsen. Steamy times. Leaving snow behind felt bizarre on our return to the big smoke of Tokyo. With nowhere to snow shoe what on earth would we do?

An urbanised city of stairwells to metros or restaurants, elaborate train stations, bucket loads of sweet laden kiosks, uniformed folk, jidoohambaiki (vending machines), sculptures and artistic manholes to P2s delight

Arriving late, keeping eyes open and thoughts straight took chain restaurant food to perk me up and accompanying cello tape, whilst P2 willed for more sake and Asahi experiences. Sukiya delivered on price and taste.

Hotel East 21 got it right a week after our Narita hotel however, having had a string of misinterpreted bed configurations since.

A double bed that meant double, followed by a large pool and health club onsen (even if it opened at a tardy time), and a magical city view in the foreground corridor rendered spirits as high as the nearby Sky Tree, the tallest tower.

Our room maid made good chatter with P2 in his infant language ability on route to more photographic exploits. "Do not disturb" versus "make up my room", via sign language. Works every time, even if I saved the day verbally

The morning of loveliness (no plans!) preceded meeting Chihiro again, 5th here and 7th overall in 25 years, for lunch.

Son firmly gripped with soccer training and weekend high school, her younger child Miyako san met us as well at Ueno and quickly we switcher back into our combined Japanenglish dialect

Imbibing food took a good few hours and once iPhone and bespoke beer/ sake purchases were planned we scooted off on a consumerist afternoon.

Yen left out pockets, and nearly physically spent, an interlude at the imperial palace by Nijobashi bridge amongst many joggers brought us back to Tokyo station ready for more restaurant fare.

Gifts for you, said Chihiro. And so began the one upmanship that culturally is insurmountable. So touched by an engraved pair of chopsticks with silly sausage and my names, a quick reconnaissance mission to get our reply gifts accidentally left at the hotel and we'd partially felt we'd repaid such generous Japanese hospitality. A sofa bed for her sons rest in a year or so, with pleasure!

Kyoto occupied our time for February 14th, signs declaring "barentains dei" across shop frontages in our week leading up.

Pouring rain gave way to clearing skies only once on the Hikari billet train nearing Odawara, and with celebratory coffee in hand we toasted each other and settled on a days plan - Kin kakuji, Wara tenjin temple and Kiyomizudera.

Resplendent in practical clothing and not a suitcase being dragged anywhere, we made light work of buses, our feet, and navigating seething crowds around the city centre.

Kimono clad women with converse or skechers shoes brought meaning to fusion dress, and by dusk P2 accomplished at least another significant quota of quality photography. Osaka glowed yellow in the sunset distance, crowds wrestled with banned selfie sticks, and I got accosted as surrogate photo taker.

Dark fell, dinner was an impressive affair several steps from the station and we then made the fast trek home by train for another late finish and incredible sight-filled day.

Shopping and health clubbing our way through the final day, the record high temperature for February 14 since 1879 deteriorated to 10 Celsius and rain. Bespoke ceramics in hand and a relatively ancient scroll for P2 set us off to the hotel and hurtling towards the madness of Tokyo station. In the throes of restoration and devoid of clear airport express signage it was a goose chase to reach our platform and eventually terminal one at Narita.



Escorted through terminal one, at racing pace, our apologies largely unnecessary with accommodating Japanese way, we reflected on a great week with one Week (P2) and this well travelled soul. It never loses its lustre!

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