A Traditional Japanese Bath
A month ago, I promised to write about going to an onsen. However, the next day I got into hot water of another kind and ended up writing about kettles. That subject will be addressed again in the future, but right now, it's time for a bath.
Spending an entire day on various forms of transport sightseeing in Hakone National Park was more tiring than I thought and both me and my Aussie companion for the day were ready to return to Tokyo. However, the French couple we'd met on the cable car persuaded us we shouldn't miss going to a real thermal spring-fed Japanese bath.
The large Tenzan Notemburo complex was obviously used to foreigners because we were presented with a sheet of English instructions regarding etiquette. To start with, there were separate facilities for men and women. (So no scenes like at the Polynesian Spa last year where two Swedish girls asked a Japanese guy to take photos of them wearing bikinis in the steaming pools. He was very cooperative.)
The first hurdle for Marianna and me involved the deceptively easy task of removing our shoes. Slippers are provided in the shoe removal area and two shuffling steps take you to your shoe locker. These slippers do not go walking into the changing area, no, no, no.
Lockers are provided for all your clothes in the changing area and I do mean all. No togs allowed, everyone goes nude. You were allowed to take a small washcloth through but no towel. I try to be Dutch about this kind of thing, so luckily wasn't bothered. I don't believe Alvin was 100% comfortable though.
Marianna and me then went into the next room for a shower. You sit on a little stool, wash and rinse with your little bucket. After that, we climbed into the bath of bliss. Having steamed for a bit, Marianna suggested we try the outside baths. Outside?
There were three rock-lined pools outside. We steamed and chatted while the trees rustled. At some point, I noticed persistent stares from a few of the Japanese women. I'd have thought white people in the baths weren't new but then we realised I was getting most of the stares. Presumably it was my reddish hair that set them off (M is brunette) and as it felt like plain curiousity, I figured let 'em stare and get used to me.
By the end of an hour, I could've happily curled up on a rock and gone to sleep. It was wonderful. The onsen was a most civilised, and civilising, experience. Zzzzzz.
Spending an entire day on various forms of transport sightseeing in Hakone National Park was more tiring than I thought and both me and my Aussie companion for the day were ready to return to Tokyo. However, the French couple we'd met on the cable car persuaded us we shouldn't miss going to a real thermal spring-fed Japanese bath.
The large Tenzan Notemburo complex was obviously used to foreigners because we were presented with a sheet of English instructions regarding etiquette. To start with, there were separate facilities for men and women. (So no scenes like at the Polynesian Spa last year where two Swedish girls asked a Japanese guy to take photos of them wearing bikinis in the steaming pools. He was very cooperative.)
The first hurdle for Marianna and me involved the deceptively easy task of removing our shoes. Slippers are provided in the shoe removal area and two shuffling steps take you to your shoe locker. These slippers do not go walking into the changing area, no, no, no.
Lockers are provided for all your clothes in the changing area and I do mean all. No togs allowed, everyone goes nude. You were allowed to take a small washcloth through but no towel. I try to be Dutch about this kind of thing, so luckily wasn't bothered. I don't believe Alvin was 100% comfortable though.
Marianna and me then went into the next room for a shower. You sit on a little stool, wash and rinse with your little bucket. After that, we climbed into the bath of bliss. Having steamed for a bit, Marianna suggested we try the outside baths. Outside?
There were three rock-lined pools outside. We steamed and chatted while the trees rustled. At some point, I noticed persistent stares from a few of the Japanese women. I'd have thought white people in the baths weren't new but then we realised I was getting most of the stares. Presumably it was my reddish hair that set them off (M is brunette) and as it felt like plain curiousity, I figured let 'em stare and get used to me.
By the end of an hour, I could've happily curled up on a rock and gone to sleep. It was wonderful. The onsen was a most civilised, and civilising, experience. Zzzzzz.