BATHING IN SNOW COUNTRY

It’s noon on an overcast winter day and i’m on the tokyo station train platform waiting for the 12:16 p.m. bullet train to the town of Echigo Yuzawa in Niigata Prefecture. If everything goes according to plan, in less than two hours I will be up to my ears in hot water--lolling in one of Japan’s thousands of thermal baths.

While all the primeval geologic and geothermal rumblings under Japan have set off devastating volcanic eruptions, tsunamis and earthquakes (10% of the world’s volcanic activity occurs in Japan), they also provide the nation’s 127 million inhabitants with a sublime way of life. Two thousand hot springs feed into 10 times that many baths, providing a soothing connection to a lifestyle born long before the rapid industrialization of the last century.

I first experienced the pleasures of these springs a decade ago in Beppu, just days after learning my first lesson about bathing etiquette. While visiting my girlfriend’s parents in Tokyo, I ended my bath in the family’s deep tub by pulling the plug. Our relationship nearly went down the drain with the soap suds, for I had committed two cultural faux pas. In Japan, bathing is for relaxation and cleansing the soul, not the body. Soap is verboten, and water is always left in the tub until the last bather has soaked. Washing is done while sitting on a small stool using a hand-held shower head, or from a bucket dipped into the hot springs.

I’ve returned to the Japanese spas many times in the decade since those early experiences, and the magical waters and their surroundings are still an endless source of visual and visceral pleasure. Each hot spring and each season bring with them a unique bathing experience, but it’s been in the mountains in mid-winter where I’ve felt transported back to a time before Commodore Perry dropped anchor and helped set in motion the “modernization” of Japan.

On my most recent trip, Echigo Yuzawa is my first stop. It is in the area of central Japan known as snow country, which encompasses Gumma Prefecture (a prefecture is a regional district) and extends into parts of neighboring Niigata and Nagano prefectures. The location, a two-hour train ride from Tokyo, makes it easily accessible to travelers.

I learned of Echigo Yuzawa while reading Yasunari Kawabata’s Nobel Prize-winning book, “Yukiguni” (“Snow Country”), set in the 1930s about the relationship between a geisha at a hot spring and her city-dwelling client. “After passing through a long border tunnel, it was snow country,” says the book’s opening line, conveying the geographic transition from the dreary, treeless flat plains and towns outside of Tokyo into these mountains blanketed by white powder in winter.

The water at Echigo Yuzawa is between 104 and 107 degrees Fahrenheit--hot, but not too hot. It’s perfect for the popular pastime known as yukimi, or snow gazing while in a meditative state. An inebriated version known as yukimi-zake adds Japan’s most popular spirit, sake, to the mix. It seems particularly popular with skiers returning to their hotels from a day on slopes that end a few feet from the main street.

While many hot springs are restricted to guests staying at a hotel or inn, some hotels and inns open their springs to the public for day visits for less than $20. Many towns also have public baths available for free, or for a fee of a few dollars.

By 2 p.m. I’m reclining in the Yuzawa Toei Hotel’s large outdoor hot spring amid a gentle snowfall. It’s a soothing counterpoint to the 20-degree December day and seems an appropriate occasion for contemplation, but a sustained “ahh” is the best I can muster. Time and reality bend, and it’s not just from the sake provided by a small but festive group of apres-skiers.

Later I retreat into the large indoor hot spring pool and enjoy the view through floor-to-ceiling windows. These baths are the largest in town, but the mid-1970s modern look of the hotel is not what I came here for, so I dress and head to the Hakuginkaku Hananoyoi Ryokan for the night. Its baths are smaller but the hotel is a hidden oasis of tradition in what has become a fairly modern town.

When guests arrive at a ryokan (a traditional Japanese inn), they are to leave their shoes, and their worldly worries, behind. Entering the foyer, I remove my jacket, gloves and shoes and slip into house slippers. Then I’m escorted to my room by a hostess in a kimono, her every movement art in motion. She slides open the door to my room, removes her sandals and guides me across the tatami floor to an electric heater covered by a wooden frame that is draped with a quilt. I sit and put my legs under the quilt to warm them. After further thawing out with hot tea, I’m guided through guest registration and the schedules for bathing, dinner and breakfast. I have time for a quick bath before dinner.

After a great night’s sleep on a futon, I have a morning bath and breakfast, which includes a raw egg mixed with soy sauce and poured over steamed rice, Japanese pickles and salmon. I bundle up before making my way on foot through snowdrifts to the Takahan Hotel, which is perched on a hill. I’ve come to pay my respects to Kawabata, the late author of “Yukiguni.” His room at the Takahan where he often wrote has been preserved, along with personal memorabilia.

Next I head by train and bus for Takaragawa, deeper into snow country, in the mountains of Gumma Prefecture. I arrive after 90 minutes, too early to check in, so I walk to the outdoor bath. It is Japan’s most famous, and is open to day guests as well as overnight visitors.

It’s beyond beautiful here. Surrounded by snow-laden trees, I cross a plank bridge to the wooden bathhouse at the spring. Steam rising, the scene has the feel of a Kurosawa film.

The small towel traditionally used by guests at Japanese baths is too small to cover you front and back, so like most fellow bathers, I throw caution--and my derriere--to the wind when making the excursion between bathhouse and hot springs. At springs such as this one, where the sexes bathe together, some women break from tradition and use larger bath towels. Even so, the art of discreet peeking is a favorite past-time of men and women alike, and the dozen or so dippers I’m with seem adept at the sport. For the shy of heart, hot springs almost always have a separate bath available for women. At this one, a statue of Buddha keeps a benevolent eye on the women bathers.

At Takaragawa, I stay at both the Takaragawa Onsen Bekkan Bunzan Ryokan and the more casual, affordable and lively Osenkaku Ryokan. Each has its benefits. At the Osenkaku, the sake and the karaoke singing provide a nice balance to the serenity of the bathing. At the Bekkan Bunzan, as at many Japanese inns, the food is exquisitely presented. My meal includes shrimp served in a tiny half igloo of ice, beautifully sculpted raw vegetables and a variety of tempura, sashimi, steamed fish, and meat bathed in a delicate broth.

After dinner, I change into a light cotton robe and an overcoat provided by the inn and join a small procession of guests for an evening pilgrimage to the bath. We leave our plastic house slippers at the doorway and slide into wooden slippers.

While Takaragawa is known as grand champion of outdoor baths, one of the finest indoor baths in Japan can be found in Gumma Prefecture at the Choju-kan Ryokan in Hoshi. Carved from chestnut, beech and Japanese cedar, the bath there soothes bathers with 110-degree spring water containing calcium and magnesium, which, among other things, is said to be good for those suffering from hysteria.

The concept of medicinal baths is an important element of hot springs, with many dedicated to that purpose, including Kusatsu in Gumma Prefecture, which also has some of the hottest water. Deciding that I prefer to eat lobster rather than be cooked like one, I watch from the sidelines as bathers, under the strict supervision of bath masters, endure immersion in hot spring water that hovers around 125 degrees. The waters are said to be good for circulation and for curing skin diseases.

While a Kusatsu folk song declares that the hot springs can cure “anything but love,” the curative claims are by no means restricted to those rooted in science. Japanese bathers believe that radioactive water can help people suffering from gout and diabetes, and when imbibed, chronic digestive problems, gallstones and fatigue. Water heavy in sulfur is thought to remedy metallic poisoning and improve poor complexions. Acidic water is said to help athlete’s foot and chronic rheumatism.

Before heading back to Tokyo, I have time for one more hot spring, so I make my way to Jigokudani (Hell’s Valley) in Joshin-etsu Plateau National Park in northeastern Nagano Prefecture. Here humans are not the only creatures bathing. Snow monkeys (Japanese macaques) are common winter visitors. Invariably, in the early morning a few brave monkeys invade the “people” bath at the Korakukan Ryokan before heading to their own hot spring deeper in the valley. At the end of a day of bathing, the monkeys head back into the hills, while ryokan guests head to the dining room. Sitting on cushions at Korakukan Ryokan, I’m served an almost endless feast of udon noodles, river fish, mountain vegetables and chimaki--a sticky, sweet rice.

After the most restful of sleeps in the simple ryokan room, the next morning comes too soon. It’s time to head back to the 21st century. I hope the transition will be as gentle as the baths of snow country.

*

GUIDEBOOK

Savoring the Spa Experience in Japan

Telephone numbers and prices: The country code for Japan is 81, followed by the appropriate city code: Echigo Yuzawa, 257; Takaragawa, 278; Hoshi, 278; Kusatsu, 279, Jigokudani, 269. All prices are approximate and are calculated at a rate of 122 yen to one U.S. dollar. Lodging prices are per person, single or double occupancy. All ryokan prices include dinner and breakfast.

Getting there: Nonstop service from Los Angeles to Tokyo is provided on JAL, ANA, United, Northwest, Thai Airways, Korean, Singapore and Varig. Connecting service is available on American, Continental, United and EVA. From Tokyo, the most convenient and economical route to snow country is by train. A Japan Rail Pass is available to travelers with “temporary visitor” visa status (issued to U.S. citizens on arrival). The rail passes must be purchased outside the country and are available through Japan Airlines as well as travel agencies that specialize in Japanese travel. Once in snow country, most hot springs are accessible by buses near the rail lines.

Where to stay: In Echigo Yuzawa in Niigata Prefecture: Takahan Hotel, 923 Yuzawa-machi, 84-3331, fax 84-4047. Rates: $100 to $210. Hakuginkaku Hananoyoi, a beautifully appointed ryokan, 2-1-10 Yuzawa, Yuzawa-cho, 84-3311, fax 84-4680, www.hakugin.com. Rates: $100 to $250. The Naspa New Otani Resort has some Western-style rooms, 2117-9 Yuzawa, Yuzawa-cho, 80-6111, fax 80-6223, www.naspa.co.jp. Rates: from $125. Yuzawa Toei Hotel, 3459 Yuzawa, Yuzawa-cho, 84-2150, fax 84-4062. Rates: $75-$400.

In Takaragawa in Gumma Prefecture: Osenkaku Ryokan, 1899 Fujiwara, Minakami-cho, 75-2121, fax 75-2038, www.takaragawa.com. Rates: $100 to $250. Takaragawa Onsen Bekkan Bunzan, 1920 Fujiwara, Minakami-cho, 75-2520, fax 75-2617. Rates: $200 to $425.

In Hoshi: Choju-kan, a great older ryokan, is the one place to stay in this remote area of Gumma Prefecture, 650 Nagai, Niiharu-mura, 66-0005, fax 66-0003. Rates: $120 to $225.

In Kusatsu: Yamamotokan, 404 Kusatsu, Kusatsu-cho, 88-3244, fax 88-3245. Rates: $130 to $175.

In Jigokudani: Korakukan Ryokan, Yamanouchi-cho, 33-4376, fax 33-3244. Rates: $90 to $125.

For more information: Japan National Tourist Organization, 515 S. Figueroa St. #1470, Los Angeles, Calif., 90071; (213) 623-1952; www.japantravelinfo.com.