On Saturday, dear readers, I made it up to Kawarayu Onsen.
It was so powdery, I stayed totally dry despite being buried in a layer of snow.
train bridge
I had originally intended on going to Naganohara, a town near the prefectural border with Nagano, but Kawarayu looked far more interesting. It’s much smaller, less crowded (I saw perhaps five people on the street the entire day), and it will supposedly be underwater in five years or so, due to a dam. Naturally, the cement-loving construction enthusiasts that make up the Japanese bureaucracy plan on moving the entire town up the valley wall, so everything’s hunkey-dorey, right?
The new bridge at the edge of the world.
how the landscape will change
the blue-green river water flowing into the brown
Last I heard, the money ran out for this construction project (what?!? Money running out for a construction project in Japan?! Never!), so it may never happen, but the town has already begun dismantling itself, shops have closed, and the new bridge to span the behemoth river yet to be is almost finished. The town itself, and the surrounding flora is beautiful, with an aquamarine river (from the hot spring) and huge, craggy mountains. The snowstorm only served to enhance the otherworldly aspect of the place, making mysterious, lonely, and totally awesome.
These photos, however, only give one the merest impression of the freakin’ crazy weather that day, dear readers. Sure, the snow fell in abundance, but so did the wind blow, with gusto!
I was quite amazed, and appreciative of my vantage point from within a relatively sheltered valley. Still, however, it was pretty insane, as the video helps to illustrate.
Taken in town and from the train on the return trip.
Now I mentioned that I saw almost no one outside, mostly due to the fact that only idiots like myself (us people from out-of-town) ventured out doors. Once I made it inside, I found a splendid sampling of humanity that made this particular experience one of my favorites so far as onsen-related ventures are concerned.
After hiking a ways up the road. The town is further down the river.
First, there was the omiage-ya-san (souvenir shop lady), a little granny, probably in her late seventies or early eighties as genki as all get-out and quite chatty. She told me all about the different food she sold, and recommended the anko-stuffed wafers that were made right in Kawarayu, or thereabouts. After purchase, she told me all about how two of the singers from the boy-band ARASHI (the most popular band among my jr. high students) stopped by the onsen and her shop. She had a poster on the wall – a cartoon of her and her husband (I presumed) holding hands, and added on either side were the two smiling singers. She was so excited to talk to me, and she insisted I take her card and come back soon.
From the town shrine. They provided slippers for walking on the surrounding platform.
Next, I went to the onsen for a quick and much-deserved dip. It was only 300 yen, which is by far the cheapest place I’ve yet been to. When I first arrived, it was completely empty, but soon a mother and young daughter arrived and chatted a bit with me. The father was in the next room, in the mens’ tub, and he knocked on the door, asking if they could chat. But the daughter said, “Sorry! There’s a lady in here with us (actually, she called me a gyaku-sama, which is an honorific for customer, a common title for strangers one might meet at a store or business, or so I understand)”. The little girl was soooo cute. She kept saying, “Wow! This is so nice. So nice. Very comfortable. I’m enjoying myself. Aren’t you mom? I think you should sit here by me. Isn’t this nice?” Usually kids here are such little boogers, but I really enjoyed listening to her go on and on about how great everything was, and genuinely enjoy herself.
a house used to be here
Finally, I made it to the only restaurant left in town – a noodle shop. It actually looked more like a Western-style cafe/diner. There were only three tables, so I sat with another woman who eventually started talking to me, as did the rest of the people there. There were five of us, and I told them a little bit about where I was from and Oregon hot springs. I had an enormous bowl of mushrooms and noodles and some peach juice (which is totally amazing, I must tell you). The shopkeeper was telling everyone how her friend made better noodles, but his shop had closed (for the time being), so everyone came to her. “My noodles are good, but his are much better. Everyone says they like mine, but I say, ‘you should really try so-and-so’s. His are great!’” It was warm and cozy, and everyone was laughing and having a good time.
the way home
I finally wandered back to the tiny train station where the friendly train conductor sold me my ticket back to the city. I watched the snowy landscape pass by for as long as I could before finally falling asleep somewhere around Nakanojo. When I woke up, the sky was blue, and the snow was nowhere to be seen.
