The snag? You have to be completely naked. This is the first rule of the onsen and probably the reason we were the only English people here. I was also nervous as this would be the first time since the airport that I had had to manage on my own. Having no clue about the language has made me feel extremely vulnerable. What if I did it wrong and got naked at entirely the wrong moment. Onsening has many rules.
But after an exhausting day of walking that had made my pains go crazy I was psyched up for it.
We put on our hotel yukata (one of us more neatly than the other) and flip flops and walked to the posh hotel, giggling slightly about being naked underneath - especially when Andy's poorly wrapped yukata came loose. At the bath entrance a man and woman stood like human signs to point(and bow) us to the right changing rooms. We wished each other luck and went in.
The room was full of baskets for clothes and an attendant was at a desk. I asked her in crude sign language if this is where I get naked and she nodded. I unwrapped myself and headed into the baths I felt ridiculous. I sat down at one of the washing stations and began to wash my hair and body. By the time I stood up and saw the other women looking so relaxed I had begun to relax too. I strolled over to some taps 15ft high coming out of the wall and had a water massage. By the time I stood up again I was fine with the whole situation.
The women at the washing station looked like mermaids. I felt like Cleopatra at the Roman baths. I went in radium baths and aluminium baths. Cool Jacuzzis with wrinkled old ladies, hot pools and warm pools, and gave myself a surprise after leaving the sauna and getting in a pool of freezing cold water, the sign for which was helpfully only in Kanji and Korean. My favourite was the milky outdoor pool, which looked out at a Japanese garden of red maple trees, stone statues and flowering trees that dropped their blossoms into the pool. A toddler was showing them to it's mother with wonder.
Other outdoor pools had a water wheel, a bar, and views back over Hell Valley. I spent a lot of time wondering at my sudden acceptance of being starkers - why did I feel less exposed than in a swimsuit? How on earth was making eye contact and wordless interaction with the other women easier than if I were fully clothed?!
2 hours flew by and I was getting as wrinkly as I was relaxed. I chose a washing station and soaped and rinsed myself again, we had a carpeted room with sinks to dry off excess water before going through to the main dressing area. I dried and re-yukated with a cup of cold tea (still disgusting no matter how zen and Japanese I now felt) before taking a proper look at the room. There was a sitting area for relaxing and many sinks for and stations for drying your hair. I went to the most communal and tried all the creams and brushes. I don't normally bother drying my hair but it felt like part of the experience and besides my wet hair was making my yukata a bit translucent.
A fat little baby waddled in as her mother wad in the drying room. No one minded and the attendant pulled faces at her and followed her to make sure she was ok until her mother came and put her in the cot - children weren't just accepted but welcomed. You could even buy ice cream in the dressing room.
I left feeling radiant but with rather a lot of water in my ear. I don't think I have ever felt that relaxed.
No comments:
Post a Comment