Hot Springs and Champagne Powder

Since we couldn’t get a flight to Sapporo to go skiing in Niseko, we took a 4 hour bus ride from downtown Tokyo to the heart of Hakuba, another ski town where the 1998 Winter Olympics were held in Japan.  Our friend we had dinner with in HK just went there and had an amazing time, and said there was no need to go to Niseko as conditions in Hakuba were great.  As it turned out we were happy we listened.  Hakuba itself is well known for skiing and the relaxing onsen (hot springs) filled with piping hot mineral water with supposed rejuvenating properties.  It’s a resort town with no less than 9 ski hills side by side.  The village is quaint, and though lacking the manicured  beauty of Whistler or Vail, it’s very charming with a lot of Japanese character.  Instead of burger joints and pubs there are izakayas and soba houses, which we were quite happy about.  Our hotel was at the base of the Happo One ski hill, so that’s where I skied and Di boarded all three days.  We were going to try out the other mountains, but our experience at Happo One was so good that we had no incentive to try the others out.

Since we were in Taipei immediately before Japan, we were able to borrow some winter clothes from one of our friends in anticipation of our time on a ski hill.  We were given some outfits that were pretty cool 10 years ago (think super baggy monochromatic boarder gear).  However people on the hill looked like the boarders pictured above.  I’m not complaining as renting outfits would have cost about 40 US per person per day, but just like in Tokyo, we felt like fashion outcasts.  The first 2 days on the mountain were fantastic.  It snowed heavily so at times, especially at the top of the mountain, the visibility was mediocre.  The snow itself was still good though and it got our coordination on our skiis and boards back to mid-season form.  The third day, however, was epic.  The clouds cleared out and there was nothing but blue sky.  The powder at the top of the hill was knee deep and light, and especially in the morning it was easy to make our own fresh tracks.  Though the mountain was quite small, there was enough terrain to keep us interested, with bumps, powder, steeps and groomers evenly dispersed throughout.  Our muscles finished everyday quite sore, but that didn’t stop us from going all out the next day.  Plus, we had the onsen to soothe the pain once we removed our gear.

The private onsen in our hotel was spotless and luxurious, complete with steam rooms and jacuzzis.  Even with all that, I am still not a convert.  Typically a Japanese onsen has a guy’s side and a girl’s side.  When you go into your respective areas, you’re supposed to get naked in the locker room, and then head to the unisex communal shower rooms where you sit on a stool and clean up before getting into the onsen, in the nude again.  I, for one, am not a fan of sitting around in a hot spring with a bunch of other naked dudes.  Luckily it was never really busy and whenever I was in the pool there was at most one other guy.  The all male nakedness, however, is not the main reason I’m not an onsen convert, the problem is the heat.  That pool of water is scalding hot.  While the other guys looked like they could soak and just relax in the clear mineral baths, I had to strain to just keep myself in there for 10 minutes.  That’s the same reason why I’m also not a fan of steam rooms and saunas, no matter how relaxing the settings are.  Though I could feel my muscles loosening up with the hot soak, the temperature was too uncomfortable for me.  Di, on the other hand, loved it.  Each day I would return to our room after 15 minutes, while it would take Di an extra 45 minutes to make it back. And while I would need to take a cool shower just to get my core temperature down, she would always look refreshed after her soaks.  I thought by the third day I would be more of an experienced onsener which would at least allow me to soak for half an hour; no luck, unfortunately. 

The après ski onsen is similar to the après ski hot tub experience we have back at home.  The last time I went ‘hot-tubbin’ after skiing, I ended up in the same jacuzzi as a couple of self-proclaimed hot-tubbin connoisseurs from the interior of BC.  They were appalled that my friends and I showed up with a single beer each, while the 2 of them had a flat behind them.  For the 30 minutes we sat soaking there nursing our beer and listening to the ins and outs of what makes you a good hot-tubber, they must have downed at least 3 pilsners.  The moment they told me they had been in the relatively small tub for 2 hours already without getting out was the instant I left.  If they had been there for 2 hours and had downed at least 5 beer each, I was certain there was some urine in said jacuzzi.  I gave myself a really long shower after returning to the hotel room.  In fact, I might have taken 2.  They, on the other hand, were amazed that we wanted to leave so quickly, as they had intended to finish their flat over the next few hours while soaking in the bubbles before going back to their room.  Needless to say, the Japanese version of the hot soak after a day on the hill is infinitely more civilized.  I’d way rather sit in a clean tub that has other naked dudes than a tub that has the urine of clothed dudes.  Still doesn’t make me a fan though.

So this is it for our time in Japan this time around.  Though we could have easily spent another week here, we’ll definitely come back in the future since it is hands down one of our favourite countries.  Next time though, we’ll come better equipped with up-to-date clothes (so we won’t look like we emerged from a time machine) and fatter wallets (so we can afford a private in-room onsen; sitting with other naked dudes in the same pool is really not my thing).