As previous posts show, I like Japanese public baths. Several years ago I read about a town devoted to onsens in one of Laurie R. King’s Mary Russell book and decided that one day I would stay there. And so I booked four nights in Arima Onsen, near Kobe. Generally I stay in hotels with kitchenettes so I can relax with my own breakfast and/or a takeout dinner. But I couldn’t find any rooms like this in Arima Onsen, so I booked at a hotel that looked relatively large. The booking included breakfast and dinner – maybe this would simplify the three-times-daily problem of finding something to eat in a foreign country. Since the hotel looked relatively large (as opposed to ryokans with just a couple of rooms), maybe it would be kind of Western.
By Day 20 in Japan, the cognitive load of culture shock in a country where I can’t even read the signs has been constantly lingering just below my conscious mind. Occasionally a thought tries to rise to the surface—“It’s all just too hard: I wish I were home.” But I nudge the thought aside (or go for coffee) and come back to the present, which has mostly been quite glorious.
Alas, at Arima Onsen I’ve found myself in a traditional ryokan—just like the descriptions you can find online: the room with tatami mat flooring, meals served in your room, the futon on the floor. Of course those descriptions, and even reviews, give you No Idea. I have a combination maid / server (nakai-san) who takes care of my every need in the mornings and evenings. Another nakai-san who speaks English helps out. Cognitively this has all meant more challenges for my trip. However, the physical luxury of two hot bath visits a day, after hiking through sunny autumn woods, makes up for it.
When I checked in, both nakai-san took me to my room for a little meeting about the room, how things work, times for meals etc. The room was empty except for a big low table and “chairs” that would involve sitting in seiza position on folded knees. No beds were visible. Fortunately they supplied me with a chair that I can actually sit in to eat—low but endurable for the length of a meal. We also negotiated keeping the futon out all day so I can take my afternoon naps. Then, after waking up aching in both hips during my first night, I got two more mats under the futon. I now have a cozy nest made up of a futon, three mats, two duvets and two pillows.
I use the alcove next to the window with normal chairs as my base of operations. Nevertheless, I’ll be glad to get back to rooms with a desk and chair.
After I had checked in and they left me alone in this zen-like room, the first thing I had to do was figure out where to put my stuff. A tiny closet with lots of hangars also has space for a suitcase underneath. By now I know which clothing I’ll wear and re-wear every day given the sunny, cold weather, so I hung up all those items. The summery clothes, kitchen kit, just-in-case medicine, emergency food and other fussy travel supplies are stashed in the suitcase.
And so I’ve settled into this exotic room that evokes classical Japanese paintings from the Edo period. Those images imply that people could sit for hours perfectly comfortably. For me there’s a lot of getting up and down from the floor. Who knows how people watch television in these rooms – maybe only while eating. Also, there’s no hot coffee in the morning. At 6 am I go out and buy a can of hot coffee from a vending machine across the street (luckily the hotel’s doors are possibly unlocked all night, but I suspect I disturb someone in the office when I go in and out before dawn.)
As for those two meals a day – these probably deserve their own post but I’ll just add a couple of breakfast photos here because in most cases I have little understanding of what I’m eating. (The fish in the heading was part of dinner last night. It was already been filleted so I didn’t have to disturb the display.) Dinner is three courses plus a small desert, but breakfast gets served all at once. There is always miso soup, but also another soup and then a hot-pot soup that cooks at the table. Fish in all forms possible. Each meal is a collection of small art works, both visibly and flavorfully.
Another experienced Japan traveller told me I’d be bored spending four nights in this resort town. But like all resort towns, especially those that are in the hills, there are plenty of footpaths and vistas to explore. Arima Onsen itself deserves its own post (but we’ll see.)
Una Pellegrina nel Mondo 