Japanese Hotels

Work normally puts people into “western” hotels, partly because they seem to think we’d like that better and partly because these are the only places that are guaranteed to have a concierge who speaks some English. However, I had been told that a Japanese hotel was an entirely different ballgame, so while on vacation, we avoided all Holiday Inns. And I have to agree - this is an experience not to be missed.

The hotels themselves weren’t anything particularly special – just a nice hotel lobby with pleasant receptionists who try very hard (but not entirely successfully) to remember their English. And the room itself is a typical Japanese room – tatami mats on the floor and the only pieces of furniture are the coffee table and tv. It only has a bathroom attached if you pay extra, and even then a shower (or bath) isn’t always guaranteed. Instead, you go to the public bath (onsen). And this is one thing the Japanese seriously do well.

It is a tad odd. First off, you have to find the right room. Most hotels seem to have two onsens – one for the men, and one for the women (apparently it used to be co-ed, but isn’t very often anymore). And since the two are generally not identical, they swap back and forth every night at midnight. So you have to carefully check which one is which that day (we’re assuming the squiggles on the door-way curtains say something useful, but we found that generally the women’s curtains were red/orange, while black/blue meant men). No, we don’t know what happens if you’re in the tub when the clock strikes midnight.

As you duck through the appropriate color curtain, you enter into a changing room/lounge – baskets to put stuff in, massage chairs, a vanity complete with an assortment of scented bottles, cotton balls, and hair dryers, etc. You dump all your stuff into the baskets (yes, *all* - this is where XDirtPushr started desperately hanging on to his swim trunks and protesting “I was mis-informed!” rather wild-eyed) and walk into the next room.

Here you find a large sunken hot tub of some kind in the center, and a row of munchkin-high cubicles along the wall, each with a 6 inch tall stool, round bucket, water tap, and a mirror. You’re expected to take a “shower” sitting on the little stool, using the bucket to pour water over yourself. Luckily for us gaigin, all the places we went also had hand-held shower heads (and hot water). But it’s still weird to be able to wash the bottom of your foot without having to hop around on the other foot.

Once you are completely squeaky clean, you get to step into the hot tub (apparently the biggest faux pas you can make is to get dirt or soap suds into the tub). The tubs themselves vary a lot. They’re usually large enough for a small crowd (10-15 people), have some kind of a view, and are hot enough to pop blisters. The best ones are pools of water from natural hot springs, but there are lots of man-made ones done up in blue pool tile or natural concrete rock. They can be inside or outside – sometimes the main tub is inside, while the secondary tub is outside. Once place had a whirlpool tub and sauna. Another also had a smaller tub up on the roof with a fantastic view of Fuji and the lake. The trick is to use your gaigin license to explore your options before your shower (while you still have your robe on). Then shower and enjoy.

Once you’re completely relaxed, you head back to your room for dinner. You can either go down to the restaurant, or be a total hedonist and have dinner served in your room (although the advantage of the restaurant is that it usually has a real table and chairs). Either way, dinner consists of more little, brightly-colored dishes than you’ve ever seen in your entire life. Don’t ask what they are – just eat and enjoy. And pass your husband the nasty raw shrimp while he passes you the clear gelatinous blobs.

Then you get to roll over all of 4 feet onto the futons they spread out on the floor for you and fall into a food coma. And if you’re experiencing this the day after you climbed Fuji … well, it’s just a little slice of heaven after a long night in purgatory.