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Published: February 15th 2015
Snow monkeys
Ain't love grand.Let's go back, way back to the early 90s at my local video hire. Blazing out from the wall-mounted TV was footage of a guy carving up knee deep Virgin powder. Mr Video Hire's hushed tones, winking and elbow nudging hinted that he was letting me in on his closet winter Nirvana. "That's Hokkaido in Japan, the next big thing in the skiing world".
That whisper soon became a rumble and quicker than beer turns to piss the cat was out of the bag. Within a few short years the trickle of Australians had swelled into mobs. Containment lines have long since been broken. Japan, particularly Niseko on Hokkaido, reaches critical mass come the northern winter.
Reports have been filtering back for seasons now that Niseko has become a veritable Kuta on snow. One saying doing the rounds up here is; "Fire one bullet, hit two Aussies". I was on a mission to scratch a resurrected skiing itch but such anecdotes didn't strike a note with the Japan I wanted to visit.
Salvation, we were told, was back on Honshu. Barely a few hours out of Tokyo lies a traditional village that would go hand in glove
Nozawa Onsen
I bet this silhouette has never been done before with our Utopian demands.
Nozawa Onsen is a homely Japanese hamlet that also postures as a ski resort. Popular with Aussies, certainly, but not over-loved just yet.
BINGO! Japanese charm oozes from the bones of this cutest of villages that hasn't overly compromised itself to the yen from the influx of western guests. Earthy sake bars that also plate up noodles (or are they noodle bars that also pour sake?) catering to loyal locals en route to their onsen (thermal spa) of choice. 80 year old women who seemingly spend half their day shovelling snow from their driveways and roofs. Streetside stalls selling to die for Japanese buns. Narrow lanes lined with Nippon architecture dating from days gone by. And a dozen or so public onsens that help give the town its name.
Peppered amongst this are a few more contemporary bars, cafes and restaurants as cool as the flip side of the pillow. The best of Japan meets the best of the West. It's a heady combo.
Then there is the skiing. Japanese snow conditions have been accumulating superlatives for years. The reality on the ground for us was a pinch me I'm dreaming 5
metre base on arrival followed by regular dumps just to keep it all fresh. A few days the white stuff falling from above was so thick I swear it was snowing inside the gondola. The sort of snow that writes its own script.
That of course translates to cold. Never unbearable but frigid enough that you don't bother mentioning the "below zero" when talking temperatures. The minus is a given. The wedding tackle is still struggling to re-emerge.
One of the more viable ways to thaw is the age-old Japanese ritual of the onsen. From top to bottom Japan percolates with hot water from underneath. With such a natural resource the nation has created the onsen folklore, a good old fashioned body soak. The onsen process is a bit of a faux pas minefield with plenty of local etiquette to be observed. Regardless of that recipe for disaster, Penny and I decided we wanted a "would the real Nozawa Onsen please stand up" experience. So it was up up and away to a rustic hole in the wall solely frequented by Japanese septuagenarians upwards plus us. Without boring you with all the gory details, the 3 elderly local
gentlemen in my hot pool had a tough time suppressing their polite titters at my Nancy Boy wincing at the water temps. They would slide straight in whilst I slowly weened myself in attempt by attempt. Boy it hurt. At least with elderly Asian men I was never going to be subjected to "The Great Embarrassing Iceland Incident" of 2012 - DON'T ASK!
With the grass roots onsen box ticked it was upscale tourist versions all the way. Maybe not as authentic but a little closer to home soil in a cultural immersion kind of way.
The onsen is the ideal exclamation mark to a bruising day of skiing. In fact a bruising week and a bit. Japan is one nation where it doesn't hurt to end up in hot water.
DINING EVENT OF THE WEEK
We were dragged downstairs by aromas so inviting that it would be a shame to eat whatever was being prepared.
"Good evening sir. A table for 2?"
"Yes please. I'm so hungry I could eat a horse."
"Certainly sir. That would be menu item No.2."
And there it was. I don't know if it is a
signature dish of the region but I simply couldn't muster the mettle to order the raw horse meat plate. It still looked more palatable than No.23; "salted raw octopus in fish guts."
"I think I'll just stick with the vegetarian hot pot thanks."
More images at; www.colvinyeates.zenfolio.com
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Yatesy.
non-member comment
Keep up the great work
Hi Guys, Life in Sth. cronulla goes on. On means, don't leave for work too late or you'll be caught in the traffic at the top of Nicholson near the station at 8.30 am. On means how many times do I have to do the circuit around Cronulla St. to get a park at 7.30am on a Sunday morning? On means what happened to all the banks and why the is the surf not like it used to be when I was a boy? On means good but expensive coffee. On means the council puts all these white lines on the road to improve parking but there's nowhere to park. And then they put yellow lines on the road to point out where you can't park in the spots you used to park in when you slipped into the bottlo in less than the twinkling of an eye. Huh? All I can say is; lucky bastards, keep up the great work. Best, The other Yatesy.