Too Hot for TV

This past weekend was a lovely, relaxing time. Spanning from Friday to an extra-bonus Monday, it included the national holiday, "Respect for the Aged Day". I think I'll talk about that first because it was most recent and there are more details to cover. I woke up Monday with the intent of getting out into the wilderness, ideally somewhere with an onsen and a nice mountain view. I had been meaning to visit the Izu peninsula this weekend, but it wasn't in the cards (and next weekend also has a Monday off, so no real loss). It was good to stay out of Tokyo for a weekend, I'm sure my wallet and liver both agree with the decision.

Waking up at 8 or 9, I went ahead with the plan I had conceived the night before: after picking up some pamphlets about nearby onsen at the train station, I chose the one named "Koutakuji" (広沢寺) for its uniqueness and shockingly reasonable price for lunch. It also seemed to be more off the beaten path, but the map I had wasn't topological or even to scale, so who could really say. I took my bike to the train station and, after accidentally parking it in a place reserved for scooters, got on the number 9 bus designated by the guidemap.

30 minutes and 350 yen later, I was off the bus. There had been a little confusion since the map had shown a bus stop existing right in front of the Koutakuji onsen, but the bus only went as far as a place labeled "Koutakuji iriguchi". The walk didn't seem too far by map, but of course this initial assumption wasn't aware that the trek would be entirely uphill. I was glad to be wandering around the tree-spiked, mountainous countryside and happier still that I had my camera with me.

This is one reason I usually prefer traveling alone: I can do everything at my own pace. Walking, taking pictures, practicing Japanese, getting lost, stumbling upon the unexpected - it's all part of the experience. When others are with you, whether family, friends, or near-strangers, the delicate act of balancing what everyone wants or doesn't want can be more trouble than the trip itself. This isn't to say that I can't enjoy travel with friends, but to really have an adventure - to get out and genuinely explore something - there's no better company than your own thoughts.

The green route I was hiking also had the occasional farming house, area for garbage pick-up, and (of course) vending machine. I'll be sure to upload the pictures when I the chance. It took maybe half an hour to arrive at my destination, five minutes to walk past it, and another five to walk back. The onsen belongs to a ryokan, a traditional Japanese inn with supposedly impeccable service and food. I wouldn't know because they're usually outside of my budget; for instance, the map I had named about 10 of them and I would put the mean price at around 12,000 yen or about $100 per person per night.

Once inside the main building, I was able to rent a towel and buy a long washcloth (makes for a good souvenir!). Since I wasn't staying with them, I could still use the onsen, but for a fee. I also asked about the lunch I had seen mentioned, but was told since there "were no rooms available, I could instead order some food from the menu outside." I would have been content to take lunch in laundry room if they had only offered. I'm still unsure if I would have been able to do it if they weren't full, though. A lunch reservation, perhaps? Unfortunately, the listing outside was small and mostly consisted of various deep fried dishes (not so appealing on a hot day after getting out of a hot spring). There was one exception: cold soba noodles. I made a mental note and ducked into the men's entrance of the onsen.

Whenever I read the word rotenburo, I think of openness. The word literally means "open air bath." I imagine the body reaching an ideal calm between hot water and cool air thanks to a nice breeze. These are examples of what I'm picturing in my mind: 1, 2, 3. The bath I entered was far from these expectations, sadly. While the water still served to relax, it seemed as if the spring was hastily claimed by building all around it. The openness of the onsen was entirely compromised by the four tall walls surrounding it. Consequentially, that cool breeze was also hard to come by. Here's a picture of what the bath looked like (complete with old men, so it's just like the real thing!), the entrance to the ryokan, and map in relation to Atsugi.

The general protocol after entering is to get naked, set your clothes on the shelf provided, properly wash your body, then enter the pool. I witnessed some variation on this, however, with some people merely scooping from the spring with a basin, splashing some on their smelly feet/balls, and calling it good before getting in. This seems akin to the ritual cleansing of your hands at shrines with cold water, and the equally ritual - and equally ineffectual! - cleansing of your hands after going to the bathroom (also usually with cold water). Oh well, at least it was a kind gesture. It was Respect for the Aged Day, after all.

Speaking of age, there was a good distribution. I certainly wasn't the oldest, and thanks to some kids that came in with their dad, not the youngest. The onsen wasn't particularly roomy, and so there was a lot of strategic re-positioning going on. I gave up a prime spot, the rock-with-water-running-down-the-side, to try and enter a different area that was marked with kanji for "cold water" to try something else, but was betrayed to find it was the same temperature after all. All was not lost, however - I was able to get my chest and knees out of the water for a while by sitting on a tile ledge instead of a less comfortable rock. There isn't much talking except between the occasional father/son (I wouldn't expect younger Japanese guys to relax with their friends, just as I certainly wouldn't invite any co-workers along), so the whole scene becomes this strange, slow, silent ceremony.

I'd love to talk more about bathing nude with strangers, but I've really got to go - my ass is starting to hurt from sitting in this chair so long. Today's work day has been from 10am to 8pm with some breaks of course, but a good number of Japanese guys here have been in since earlier and I guarantee will be leaving much later. More on workaholics later.