Golden Week #3: Matsuyama

After leaving my idyllic camping spot, I went back to the main road and drove a while longer through cascading mountains, past tumbling rivers and fell more and more in love with the middle of Ehime Prefecture. Then I hit the tunnel. 4km long. On one side pristine forest, the other, the industrial edge of suburbia, ugly in the way that only large sprawling cities can be.

I headed towards the centre of town and aimed towards Dogo, home of the famous Dogo Onsen.

Sitting in the information bureau, asking about hotel reservations, I made an interesting discovery: it's no secret that Japanese hotels are often shy about accepting foreign visitors because they are afraid of the language difficulties. But when the information guy told the hotel that my Japanese was "jouzu" really good, I realised that this was contingent on them accepting my reservation. Dumped my car and my stuff at the hotel and headed into the middle of town. On a hilltop in the middle of Masuyama is Matsuyama Jo (castle).

Plagiarised from a tourism site:

Considered one of the most beautiful of Japan's few remaining original castles. Situated on a steep, but flat topped hill, the castle is one of only three Japanese castles with multiple wings.

Matsuyama jo was constructed from 1602 to 1628. In 1635 the castle was assigned to a branch of the Matsudaira family, relatives of the Tokugawa, and remained in their hands until the end of the feudal era. The current three storied castle tower was constructed in 1820 after the original five storied one was destroyed by lightening.

After discovering that there was over an hour long wait to take the chairlift to the top, I opted to walk up and was really happy I had done so. The surrounding gardens were peaceful, and, like the rest of the town that day had a laid back feeling uncommon in Japanese cities. I later learnt that Matsuyama is always dead on a Monday and the rest of the week swarms like anywhere else. I felt lucky to have arrived in that time of tranquillity. At the top I took a photo of myself Japanese style, in front of the main gates, mainly for the benefit of my students, downed a can of sports drink and headed back down in search of long overdue food.

I found a cute little restaurant that displayed many different varieties of rice. Unfortunately, inside I discovered that it was a yakiniku restaurant, where you cook meat on your own little brazier on the table. However they also had an adorable raked gravel zen garden to gaze at whilst you contemplate your food, and for the first time in years, my blood sugar levels crashing, I forgot I was vegetarian and ordered a nama biru (draft beer) to accompany the zen garden. Yes I am evil! But it actually tasted good.

I headed back to my hotel and crashed out for a while, sleepily revelling in the minimalist perfection of my Japanese style room: tatami mats on the floor, a simple futon with the best quality cotton sheets, shuji sliding paper doors and a view onto another traditional Japanese garden.

I awoke a couple of hours later and headed down to the onsen. More internet plagiarising:

The Dogo Onsen bathhouse is set in a large, traditional Japanese house and offers a number of different experiences depending on your budget.

Simple no-frills entry into the Kami-no-Yu (神の湯, "Bath of the Gods") costs a mere ¥300, but that's all you get, you even have to bring your own towel and soap. For another ¥320 you're loaned a yukata robe and fed green tea and a few sembei cookies after your bath. The entrance process for this second level is a little on the confusing side though: you have to ascend the stairs and disrobe right there in the relaxation room, in sight of all the attendants and anybody in the street below who's looking up. But only down to your underwear -- after putting on your yukata, you go downstairs, strip away the last vestiges of your dignity, and enter the bath. (There are coin lockers if you need to store your valuables, at ¥100 a pop.) The bath isn't particularly spectacular, just two identical giant granite tubs in separate rooms, more often than not full of Japanese tourists. If you want a little more space to yourself, try visiting on a weekday afternoon, before the pre-dinner rush. The process repeats in reverse on the way back, except that you can lounge about in your yukata for an hour, sip on the tea (free refills). The relaxation room is on a breezy 2nd-floor balcony, nice and cool even on a sweltering summer day and with nice views of the yukata-clad tourists clip-clopping about the streets. The entire place is surprisingly traditional with few concessions to modernity, eg. not a vending machine in sight.

Should you want to get away from the unwashed masses, you can fork out another ¥360 -- we're up to ¥980 now -- and enter the Tama-no-Yu (玉の湯, "Bath of the Spirits"). Tea and cookies are provided here as well, and you finally get to borrow a [towel] too. And if you cough up yet another ¥300, you can retire to a private room on the 3rd floor for changing and sipping tea for all of one hour and twenty minutes.

Still not satisfied? Then you can book Botchan's Room, named after the protagonist of Natsume Soseki's famed novel of the same name, who used to lounge around the place when off duty (as Soseki did in real life). Prices are negotiable, but presumably not terribly cheap.

And for even more luxury there's the Yushinden (又神殿?), reserved for the use of the Imperial Family and so hallowed that a mere glimpse inside will set you back ¥210.

Whilst the water was divine, the tiny room, packed with Japanese tourists gave me a feeling of discomfort and claustrophobia. Outside the building had been a troupe of Taiko (traditional Japanese drum) players, and watching them I had thought how idylic it would be to relax in a bath whilst listening to them. However, now inside, I could no longer hear them. All I wanted was to be back outside in the fresh air watching them again. Needless to say, I didn't linger long and soon I was back outside marvelling at how cool the young guy in the middle was. He sat there, composed and serene like the Taiko Kami (spirit), hardly any outward expression, just being. The backdrop of the tastefully floodlit onsen behind, the casual throng of watching visitors in their summer yukata, onsen wear, the aura was beautiful and a love of Japan was reignited in me.

I got back to my hotel just as the downpour began and fell asleep soothed by one of my favourite sounds. The next morning I woke to the light filtering though the shuji, the world washed clean, and headed down to the hotel onsen, unfortunately not a real one, with water straight from the town water supply rather than a hotspring.

Breakfast was rather more inspiring, traditional fare of pickles, rice, miso soup and a piece of fish that I pushed to one side. I was still offered a knife and fork, however!