Author: Oli

We completed the bulk of our journey from Sapporo to Niseko via two trains; one (relatively fast) limited express train to Otaru and one (pretty slow) single-carriage local train to Kutchan. It’s always concerning when your train isn’t listed on the departure board when you arrive at the station, but in the end we managed to catch another train and still made it to Kutchan in good time.

Our trains trundled through beautifully snowy landscape, and it was immediately clear that there was going to be a lot more snow this time than during our last attempt to ski in South Korea!

When we changed to a local bus at Kutchan for the final leg of our journey, the conditions looked better suited to skis than motor vehicles. I was very glad to be on a bus rather than driving myself, since the snow had completely covered the roads such that there wasn’t a shred of tarmac, kerb or road marking in sight.

After arriving in Niseko Grand Hirafu, we hot-footed it to collect our ski gear before the hire shop closed for the afternoon, and began the treacherous trudge to our hotel, each of us carrying two backpacks, a snowboard/skis and poles, boots, a helmet and ski clothes. We got so close to making it to our hotel’s front desk intact, until I slipped over on the ice and my belongings went in all directions, just like sonic losing his rings. Fortunately there was no lasting damage this early in the trip!

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It didn’t take many runs down the mountain before we understood why Japan is so famous for its snow. Often referred to as powder, the snow in Japan has an almost fluffy texture, apparently the result of Siberian winds from the north. This creates snow that’s fun and forgiving for skiing, as well as beautifully soft to fall on (which I tested extensively). It snowed pretty much constantly during our four-day visit, which meant that we didn’t have to look hard to find virgin snow, even without going off-piste.

Niseko also introduced us to the concept of night skiing – for which a handful of lifts ran well beyond sunset and floodlights kept the pistes illuminated. I’d expected the lack of daylight to make skiing a bit trickier, but in fact the shadows cast by the floodlights provided more definition than the some of the flat light we’d experienced during the daytime. The slopes were also noticeably quieter after dark, which kept us going even when our legs were close to giving up!

And what better way to rest our aching muscles than a soak in yet another onsen? Sara was delighted to find that our hotel also had a hot bath, and I have to admit it felt very relaxing sitting there looking out the window at a gradually accumulating snow drift.

Niseko was noticeably more international than anywhere else we’d visited in Japan. English seemed to be spoken everywhere we went, and we heard plenty of American and Australian accents from our fellow skiers. We also noticed far fewer masks around the resort, which had been worn pretty much everywhere in Japan outside of people’s homes.

Niseko featured the highest proportion of snowboarders we’d seen anywhere in the world, with about a 50/50 split between skiers and snowboarders, so I felt right at home.

The lifts were particularly snowboard friendly too, with plenty of gondolas and not a single drag lift in sight. We even came across a chair lift that not only had a plastic hood to protect you from the icy wind, but also heated seats! What a luxury!

The United Niseko resort is made up of four distinct ski areas, which are each connected by high mountain passes. However, these passes often required a bit of a hike (while carrying equipment) as the highest runs were closed for most of our stay due to high winds, and sometimes the passes were closed altogether. As a result, we only skied three out of the four ski areas in the resort.

The sun came out in afternoon of our final day and the mountains immediately looked less menacing. Sara even found a bell to ring, much to her delight. This break in weather also gave us a rare of glimpse of Mount Yōtei across the valley as we headed back to our hotel.

As good as the snow was in Niseko, we couldn’t help but feel for the residents of Alpine resorts in Europe whose livelihoods depend on a healthy delivery of snow, but this year have been left with slopes of grass and mud. Hopefully this is a one-off and not a sign of things to come!

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After an awesome four days skiing, our next destination was Hakodate – Hokkaido’s southernmost city and oldest port.

We arrived in Tokyo via another Shinkansen high-speed train, which zoomed the 498 km from Osaka in 2 hours and 54 minutes.

On our way we sped past Mount Fuji, its perfect cone capped with snow that appeared to run down the mountainside like rivers.

We were super excited to arrive in the most populated metropolis in the world because we’d planned to meet up with our good friends George and Erin. They were kicking off their honeymoon in Japan, which just so happened to match up with our itinerary. After spending the last 5 months talking over video calls, it felt so good to catch up at an Izakaya restaurant in the historic Omoide Yokocho alley, and put the world to rights over a few rounds of drinks and grilled skewers.

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Fuelled by George and Erin’s excitement and adrenaline, we started the following day bright and early at Shinjuku Gyoen park and botanical gardens. The sky was beautifully clear and the temperature was mild (especially in the giant greenhouse!), in stark contrast with the rain and snow we’d encountered on Kyushu.

Having read plenty about Tokyo’s overwhelming size (and knowing that we’d return in a couple of weeks), we were keen to focus on the area around where we were staying in Shinjuku. So, our next stop was the Meiji Jingu (shrine).

This shrine was set in a large forested park, and we might have struggled to find it if it weren’t for plenty of other folks heading in the same direction. While George made a wish at the shrine after making a donation and diligently completing the required series of claps and bows, it was the wall of Bourgogne wine barrels that caught Erin and Sara’s attention. These barrels had been offered by celebrated wineries in France, and a nearby sign explained how the wine represented the friendship between the two countries and wished for it to continue for many years to come. Who knew?

Later that day we paid a visit to Shibuya’s famous crossing; the world’s busiest pedestrian intersection. The crossing is an example of a pedestrian scramble, which means that all traffic is periodically stopped to allow pedestrians to cross the junction in every direction, including diagonally. The crossing connects a handful of shopping centres and offices with a busy transport hub, meaning that the foot traffic ebbs and flows with the arrival of trains and buses. We (unintentionally) crossed the intersection in pretty much every direction before finally managing to locate a bar overlooking the busy world below.

Much of the rest of the evening was spent trying to convince George into joining us for a karaoke session, which after a few drinks was forced by Erin’s ultimatum – either we did karaoke RIGHT NOW or we called it a night. We walked into the first karaoke venue upon exiting Shinjuku station, which happened to be an eight-storey building of private karaoke rooms. This session was much more successful than our disaster in Daegu in South Korea, and we happily butchered our way through too many pop classics to list here. I think Erin and Sara claimed the highest score for their heartfelt rendition of You’re Still The One, but the people’s choice award went to George for his energetic performance of Earth Song.

On the way back to our hotel we came across possibly the finest piece of public signage on the metro. The poster covers the very serious topic of assaulting police officers through two fighting cats. The text at the top translates as “I’m drunk and can’t remember”, while the drunk cat with a tie around its head is simply saying “meow!” after being stopped by the cat police.

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We spent the next day forest bathing (i.e. hiking) in the Ōme Hills to the west of Tokyo. To get there, we left the city centre behind and headed out deep into the suburbs on a local train. As we exited the quiet little station of Ōme, it felt just like arriving in the suburbs of London to walk a section of the London LOOP (a long distance route around London through suburban parks) we’d been walking with George and Erin prior to this trip. Fortunately, the walk itself along a forested ridge was far more spectacular than some of the furniture superstore car parks we’ve found ourselves walking through on the LOOP.

It would have been a very relaxing way to spend a few hours together had it not been for the signs warning us of wild bear attacks. To make matters worse, most of our fellow hikers had bear bells (apparently bears also don’t enjoy surprise meetings) so we felt a little underprepared. Still, we did our best to chat away as we went, attempting to strike a balance between scaring off any unsuspecting bears while also not breaking the peace.

Prior to starting the hike, we spent a disproportionate amount of time trying to locate Ōme’s “cat alley”; a tiny pedestrian walkway that had been decorated with a bizarre collection of cat paraphernalia. Strangely though, we only spotted a single real-life cat in this seemingly cat-obsessed town.

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With Japan’s cat count languishing depressingly low, we applied the same treatment as in Korea and visited a cat cafe. We weren’t the only ones missing a furry companion, since George and Erin had recently returned Gordon – the absolute unit of a cat they’d been looking after for a friend. As was the case at our previous cat cafe, our feline friends paid us relatively little attention until George took matters into his own hands and purchased some cat treats. It wasn’t long before he was absolutely mobbed by cats, but he diligently shared the treats out to ensure every cat felt valued.

Our final destination in Tokyo was Akihabara, a neighbourhood that has become a centre of various geek subcultures, specialising in everything from anime and manga to retro video and arcade games. Some buildings had up to eight floors of stores and arcades, ensuring that any niche interest could be represented here.

Honestly, some of the floors featured such a sensory overload of lights and sounds that we didn’t last long, although George and I did find time for a quick dance off. It turned out that we’re both too old for this kind of competition, and had to leave after two songs for some fresh air and a sit down. Believe it or not, the screens are feeding us both with the same instructions in the video below.

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It was lovely to spend some time with such good friends so far from home. I’m not sure whether it was the good company or packed itinerary, but the three days absolutely flew by and we were sad to part ways so soon. Still, George and Erin had exciting plans to continue their honeymoon in south-east Asia, while Sara and I headed to Hokkaido; Japan’s wild and sparsely populated northern island.

The next stop on our Japanese adventure was Kagoshima, a city in Kyushu, the southernmost of Japan’s four largest islands. Kagoshima is best known for its proximity to Sakurajima, an active volcano that sits just a few kilometres from the city’s centre. While we didn’t witness any eruptions during our three night stay, residents of Kagoshima are famous for raising their umbrellas to the falling ash, which is so common it even has its own forecast.

Kagoshima lies at the southern end of Japan’s Shinkansen (bullet train) network. These trains are everything I’d hoped they would be – modern, frequent, comfortable and reliable, but above all else, they look really cool. I was surprised to learn that the Shinkansen trains don’t travel much faster than Eurostar trains, but I think it’s the throughput that’s most impressive. For example, the Tokaido Shinkansen line carries 16 trains per hour in both directions, with each train formed of 16 cars. Even so, our train from Fukuoka to Kagoshima ate up 281 km in just 1 hour and 36 minutes, giving it an average speed of 176 km/hour (including stopping at stations). And this was the “stopping” Sakura service rather than the “limited-stop” Mizuho service, which completes the same route in only 76 minutes!

We managed to time our journey over lunchtime despite the train’s speed and were famished by the time we arrived at Kagoshima’s train station, so we headed straight to the top floor of the Amu Plaza shopping centre where we were confronted with almost too many food options. As often seems to happen, we explored the whole floor before returning to the first restaurant we’d seen, which looked both exciting and crucially had plenty of room for our massive backpacks. While my pork dish was good, it was Sara’s Nanban chicken that stole the show. The dish takes its name from the sauce that coats the fried chicken, which consists of a mixture of rice vinegar, soy sauce, mirin (rice wine) and sugar, and originates from Miyazaki, a city about 100 km from Kagoshima. Upon finishing the last scrap, Sara announced that it was the best fried chicken she’d ever eaten. High praise indeed!

After lunch, we swapped the slick and efficient Shinkansen for the charming but snail-like street-car (tram) of Kagoshima. I’m fairly sure it travelled slower than walking pace over the two kilometres to our apartment, but it was still great fun and most importantly kept us dry from the torrential rain. I particularly liked the change machines found onboard these trams, which spit out a handful of assorted coins in exchange for a note, ensuring that travellers can pay the exact fare on exiting the tram without delay. I say without delay, but the change machine was located next to the driver at the front of the tram, which resulted in a high-pressure coin counting exercise as we exited the busy tram, but we did our best!

On our first full day, we took an excursion to the coastal town of Ibusuki via an old-school scenic train, complete with a wood-panelled interior and some sideways facing seats. I’m sure the view would have been stunning had the rain not perfectly blended the sky into the sea where the horizon would otherwise have been. Still, we thoroughly enjoyed the journey as we rattled out of Fukuoka and along the coast, and by the time we arrived in Ibusuki the sun was even thinking about coming out.

Upon arrival, we couldn’t help but notice how everyone in a position of authority was immaculately dressed. The train drivers were a great example, with their sharp suits, black caps, briefcases and white gloves. I didn’t half feel scruffy in my walking boots and hoody!

We’d read that Ibusuki is a popular summer holiday destination, but it felt incredibly sleepy in the depths of winter. Many of the shops, cafes and restaurants were shut, and there really weren’t many folks out on the street. We passed through a slowly rusting and largely deserted covered street on our way to the seafront, but the town was otherwise mostly residential.

Finally, we arrived at Ibusuki’s main attraction – its (year-round) hot sand spa. After purchasing our tickets, we were instructed to take off our clothes, put on a yukata (cotton kimono), and head out to the beach. There we laid down in shallow trenches in the sand and were buried by a few of the spa’s employees with the use of shovels. While it was slightly bizarre experience at first, the sand felt soothingly warm and heavy and by the end of our allotted slot neither of us really wanted to get up. While we were weren’t able to take photos of ourselves buried in the sand, Eevee (Ibusuki’s adopted Pokémon mascot) and a nearby photo board give some idea of the set up (at least in the summer) and our attire.

Feeling suitably relaxed, we had just enough time for a leisurely lunch before returning to Kagoshima on the last scenic train of the day. We ended up at Taketoria, a restaurant separated into many rooms containing Horigotatsu (low tables with a recessed area in the floor for your legs). This restaurant specialised in ramen, and Sara again went for the tonkotsu (pork bone broth) ramen while I chose the soy-sauce ramen. Both contained thick slices of black pork (the best pork Sara had ever eaten) and were topped with bonito flakes (incredibly thin slices of simmered, smoked and fermented skipjack tuna) which danced and curled from the steam of the broth. While I don’t think I would ever have chosen to add the bonito flakes by choice, they brought an incredibly satisfying saltiness to the broth, which genuinely made this dish the best ramen I’d ever eaten. Japan’s food scene was yet to disappoint!

We spent most of our second full day in Kagoshima at Sengan-en, a traditional Japanese garden & former feudal residence. Thank goodness we’d borrowed a couple of umbrellas from our Airbnb, because our walk around the garden was frequently punctuated with heavy showers, most of which seemed to occur while the sun was still out. Still, the gardens were beautifully sculpted and immaculately maintained, and were also designed around the view across to the Sakurajima volcano (a technique we learned was called borrowed scenery).

The garden even incorporated a shrine to the seven cats that were taken by an expeditionary army to Korea in the late 16th century. Apparently, these cats were brought on the trip for their time keeping abilities, since the time of day could be accurately read by looking at the shape of their eyes. I’m not totally convinced how accurate these readings can have been, having seen first hand the effect that a passing bird can have on Thomas’ eyes!

While in the park, we also visited the Shimadzu family’s residence, built in 1658 and renovated and extended many times since. The house is a vast wooden single-story structure of rooms about half a metre above ground level, separated by paper-thin walls and carpeted with tatami mats. The rooms are centred around a miniature garden and pond, which caught the afternoon winter light beautifully.

Over the years, the house has hosted many foreign dignitaries during visits to Japan, including a trip by Edward VIII (then the Prince of Wales) in 1922. According to the information boards, he turned many heads on this visit owing not just to his royalty, but also his good looks and eligible bachelor status!

Our final stop in the park was at a little cafe selling Jambo Mochi, a light snack said to be loved by the samurai of Satsuma. These are rice cakes toasted on bamboo skewers, covered in either sweet soy, miso or kokuto caramel glazes. To our surprise, none of the sauces were particularly sweet and didn’t quite provide the sugary hit we were hoping for, but the cafe did at least provide a lovely and warm respite after walking barefoot around the chilly floors of Shimadzu house!

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Having enjoyed the quiet charm of Kyushu, it was now time to continue north to Honshu, Japan’s largest island, to visit the bustling cities of Hiroshima, Osaka and Tokyo via yet more bullet trains.