Inn Hot Water

Have you tired of Olympic mania? Are you claustrophobic in your digs at the business hotel? Especially if it’s during the 1998 Winter Olympics in Nagano, Feb. 7 to 22, it may be time to take a break from the frenzy being visited upon this otherwise bucolic region and discover the Nagano that the Japanese have always known. Abandon town and steal away to the countryside to experience rural hospitality. You may even find a good soak in a steaming outdoor bath at a Japanese country inn.

Although I don’t reside in Nagano Prefecture, I have visited there repeatedly during the six years that I have lived in Japan. Nagano is a year-round playground for hundreds of thousands of Japanese tourists who flock here annually to hike and enjoy the cool mountain climate in summer and to ski in the winter.

But I come to a different Nagano.

My interest in this area developed just 400 yards from my apartment in the city of Fukaya, where I teach English, about 46 miles northwest of Tokyo and 100 miles southeast of Nagano. A historic road called Nakasendo (literally, “way through the mountains”) passes through my city. It connected Tokyo to Kyoto and was important to the shogun’s control of the far-flung provinces. Some of the old post towns along the road retain their historic flavor. My solo travels have been for the purpose of exploring these towns.

But there is another reason to visit the area: Away from the bustle and indifference of Tokyo, out in the countryside, the pace of life slows and the locals open up. Far from the textbook accounts of a formal, reserved people, the Japanese I have met outside the cities, almost without exception, are genuinely friendly, even eager to interact with a stranger.

It helps if you speak Japanese, as I do, but even if you don’t, many people enjoy the game of communicating with those who do not know their language.

Although my destination is always the Nakasendo, on some trips I detour and head to an onsen (hot spring) of local repute. Japan is a hotbed of geothermal activity, and hot springs abound in Nagano Prefecture.

I always stay at traditional inns, called ryokan, in relatively remote mountainous locations. The more out of the way the better, I feel, since such places offer the opportunity to better penetrate this ancient country whose cities have become homogenized by global culture.

Ryokan can help immerse the foreign visitor in an authentic Japanese experience. There are no beds; guests sleep on futons. There is no Western food; guests dine on set menus of Japanese cuisine, including fish, pickled vegetables and rice, which are served for breakfast too. There are no private toilets or showers; guests share toilets and baths, and there are no showers at all.

Many ryokan have hot springs, but not all have outdoor baths called rotemburo that allow the bather to commune with nature while soaking. The three inns I describe here--Koraku-kan, Goshiki and Maruei--are set in relatively remote locations and have delightful hot springs, but each has something else that is interesting. Koraku-kan sits adjacent to Jigokudani Monkey Park; Goshiki inn is well-known for its food; and Maruei is a hot springs resort famous for its distinctive milky white water.

Be prepared for the sulfurous smell that often permeates the air nearby and the scalding water that certainly will create an empathy for lobsters. Because the air in indoor baths often is thick with steam, there is no relief for the boiling bather. But in a rotemburo, one simply has to stand up to catch a breeze and cool off. Often, just sitting on the edge, half submerged, is pleasurable enough.

In winter, visitors can experience the additional pleasure of soaking in an outdoor bath while viewing a snowy landscape, or even while it is snowing. Or they can take a dip at night under the stars.

Although indoor baths (or ofuro) are separated for women and men, rotemburo usually are mixed. Men take a hand towel to hide their genitals (male rear ends are considered public). Don’t be misled by brochures that show young women (never men) demurely holding a small towel in front of them. Women always wrap a bath towel around themselves to conceal everything better than even a swimsuit can.

On three occasions, the most recent of which was last March, I stayed at the country inn, Koraku-kan, in Yamanouchi village, about one hour from Nagano city and adjacent to the intriguing monkey park. Every day dozens of wild macaque monkeys come down from the forested hills to scavenge for food scattered about by the park’s staff and to soak in the natural hot spring in the forested valley. I stood watching as some washed and dozed in the steaming water and a couple others chased around my feet.

Koraku-kan is a rustic, rambling inn. The wooden buildings--some dating to the early part of this century, others rebuilt--are situated in the valley on a high embankment near a rushing creek and a hissing geyser. No buildings or roads are in sight, and in winter the inn is accessible only on foot.

The trail to the inn passes through thick stands of evergreens. Though I was there in March, snow was falling steadily and the hushed mountain trail drew me deeper and deeper into a heart of whiteness. I made my way to the inn. In the cramped entrance, I stomped the snow off my boots and removed them before entering the foyer.

A young woman greeted me warmly, but my attention was immediately drawn to an adjacent cluttered room. At a low table, a toothless but animated octogenarian sat rustling through papers. I greeted her and knelt next to the table.

Harue Takefushi was raised at Koraku-kan, and the inn has been in her family for five generations, she told me. She recalled how, as a child, she walked to school through the forest, carrying a lantern when it was dark, on the same path I had just followed to reach the inn. At that point Takefushi’s 4-year-old great-grandson ran shouting into the room. “This little guy will be the seventh generation to operate Koraku-kan,” she announced.

The inn itself is lovely, and among its great pleasures are its baths. Indoors, there are two private baths that can be used individually or with one’s family. There also are communal men’s and women’s baths. Adjacent to the indoor bathhouse is a small rotemburo that provides a magnificent view of the snowy valley. Don’t be alarmed by the white particles floating in the baths. This is mineral matter called yu-no-hana, which the staff touts as beneficial to health. In fact, yu-no-hana is collected, dried, packaged and sold at some hot springs for visitors to add to their baths at home.

Meals are served in a common room. Dinner is served at exactly 5:30 p.m. and late guests are not appreciated. I feasted on a sumptuous meal that included tempura, grilled fish, carp sashimi, egg custard and a stew with morsels of duck. Tables are close together so it’s easy to interact with other guests.

“Are you a missionary?” a 50ish woman at the table next to mine asked. This loquacious woman then told me about her trip to Las Vegas and the Grand Canyon, remarking that in some places she sensed an attitude of discrimination. Her husband countered: “When I visited Pearl Harbor a few years ago, Americans seemed so free of ill feeling toward me as a Japanese. I was so surprised. I think America must be a great country.”

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A few valleys away from Koraku-kan sits a lone inn on a mountain road. In September, when I went to Goshiki ryokan, I discovered that I couldn’t reach it by public transportation. The last bus stop is at Yamada onsen, an enclave of inns. From there I finagled a ride from a local person, after explaining that I didn’t know Goshiki was two miles farther up the road.

I was expecting another quaint wooden ryokan, but the rather practical and cluttered building itself is not old. My disappointment was tempered by the expectation of dinner. Just a month before, Goshiki had appeared on a Japanese television travel program celebrating its unusual fare.

Meals are served in each guest’s room. I was sitting on a cushion at the low table in my room when a young woman entered carrying a large tray holding many small bowls and dishes. Standard items included the usual assortment of pickled vegetables, grilled trout and tempura. However, this was sansai tempura, which is made from mountain greens. The young woman who served me carefully explained the different kinds of tempura, which also included a piece of apple and, in a touch of the exotic, a Japanese maple leaf.

She then pointed to a small bun. “Oyaki are popular in Nagano, but it’s our specialty.” She told me that oyaki are steamed buns made from wheat flour and stuffed with vegetables or bean paste.

Two steamed river crabs, about two inches across, added a pink flair to the spread before me. “You eat them whole,” the young woman instructed, sensing my concern. So I popped one into my mouth and discovered a new meaning for the word “crunchy.” The food was excellent, and the tempura, in particular, wonderful.

After dinner I wandered upstairs to the lobby. I was the only guest that night, so the proprietor came out to greet me. A slight man in his 70s, Shigeru Mizuno told me that he picks the mountain greens himself. The maple leaves are collected in the fall and then frozen for the year.

Mizuno was born and raised in Tokyo. “How is it that you’ve come to this lone inn in the mountains?” I asked.

During World War II, he told me, he served in the Imperial Army and was stationed in China. After the war ended, he was interned in a Russian prison camp for three years. There he and hundreds of other half-starved Japanese soldiers were forced into labor despite the fact that the war was over. This he recalled with great bitterness, admitting that he still cannot forgive the Russians.

When Mizuno returned to Japan, he found that Tokyo--his family’s house and business included--had been destroyed. Later, when visiting relatives in the countryside, he happened to stay at Goshiki. At that time, an elderly woman was operating the establishment and searching for someone to take it over. Mizuno thought about it and accepted. He told me that occasionally his classmates from Keio University (one of Japan’s most prestigious) come for a visit. Many have become successful businessmen, and he says somewhat wistfully, “Sometimes I wonder if I’ve done the right thing, coming to this place. But it’s been a good life.”

We had been talking for almost an hour when his son, who now manages the place, came into the lobby to offer us some apple slices. His daughter-in-law followed, carrying an adorable baby with a face round as an oyaki bun. Mizuno held his grandson and cooed playfully. Perhaps he had regrets. But living into old age with his family, away from the rat race in Tokyo--that is a good life, I thought.

The bathhouse at Goshiki is a magnificent wooden structure. There are four indoor baths, including two private baths just big enough for one person. Two minutes from the bathhouse there are two rotemburo, one for women only. Here you can relax as you listen to the sound of the nearby river and enjoy a view unspoiled by human development. On the walls of the bathhouse hall hang dozens of framed comments and pictures of guests. Judging from the remarks in Japanese, English, German and Thai, few guests leave Goshiki disappointed.

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This September I had just come from a hike in the Japan Alps and decided I needed to soothe my aching joints.

Set deep in the mountains, Shirahone is an onsen resort famous for its distinctive milky white water caused by underground limestone deposits. In fact, the name Shirahone means “white bone.” Though off the beaten track, it has a centuries-old history as a spa. Locals maintain that the waters have healing properties and are especially effective for digestive and nervous ailments. A local saying goes, “If you take a bath for three days in a row, you won’t catch a cold for three years.”

There is no town nearby, just two clusters of inns, the smaller of which lies about half a mile farther up the road. Maruei ryokan is in the smaller cluster.

The bus dropped me off in front of the inn. An old woman wearing a kimono and carrying a baby on her back greeted me as I approached. Inside, Takao Tsutsuki, a young man in his 30s, welcomed me and proudly pointed to a glass case containing a large mineral structure made from tiny aggregated limestone globules. “‘This is very precious and unusual,” he boasted. I asked if the old woman outside was the baby’s grandmother. He nodded and told me that his grandmother was sitting in the kitchen at that moment, which added up to four generations under one roof.

Meals at Maruei are served in a common room. My dinner included a variety of tastes: raw and grilled carp, grilled trout, pickled vegetables and stew.

The bath at Maruei is small and cozy. The indoor bath is covered with a patina of ossified limestone. Next to the bath is the rotemburo. The water is so thick with lime that you can’t see below the surface.

If you would like to sample other baths, there are two other inns nearby. One is the super-deluxe Awanoyu. With its plush carpeted halls and recreation rooms, it lacks the family touch of Maruei. But the rotemburo is magnificent. Dozens of guests could relax in what is more like a small pond than a bath. For people not staying at the hotel, entrance to the bath is from 10 a.m. to 1:30 p.m. and costs $5.80.

GUIDEBOOK / Rooms at the Inns

Where to stay: The most difficult of the inns to reach is Koraku-kan, but, of course, that is part of its charm. From Nagano, take the private Nagano Dentetsu railway to the last stop, Yudanaka. At Yudanaka, transfer to a bus (ask for Jigokudani) or take a taxi. Get off at Kanbayashi. In this area there are a number of hotels. Walk along the street, slightly uphill. At a hairpin turn in the road, you will see a large sign with a monkey’s face and an arrow pointing toward the trail to Jigokudani Monkey Park. After walking roughly 30 minutes (a little more than a mile) over the flat and forested trail, you will come to the valley where Koraku-kan sits. You can’t miss it. On the right will be steps leading to the monkey park. Rooms at Koraku-kan (from the United States, telephone 011-81-269-33-4376, fax 011-81-269-33-3244; only one person speaks English so it is better to fax reservation requests in English) run from $75 to $100 per person, including dinner and breakfast. The inn does not accept credit cards.

To reach Goshiki ryoken (tel. 011-81-26-242-2500, fax 011-81-26-242-2550; they speak a little English but phoning for reservations in Japanese or sending a fax in English is best), take the private Nagano Dentetsu train from Nagano city and get off at Suzaka. Take a taxi from Suzaka station to Goshiki; the cost will be roughly $45. Rooms at Goshiki are $130 per person, including dinner and breakfast. Credit cards are accepted.

To get to Maruei ryokan (tel. 011-81-26-393-2119, fax 011-81-26-393-2067; no one speaks English so phoning for reservations in Japanese or sending a fax in English is best), take the train from Nagano city to Matsumoto. At Matsumoto, transfer to the train to Shinshimashima. At Shinshimashima take a bus to Shirahone onsen. There is only one bus each day, leaving at 2:10 p.m. Rooms at Maruei ryokan run from $85 to $125 per person, including dinner and breakfast. Credit cards are not accepted. The bus returning to Shinshimashima station leaves at 9:40 a.m.