The Hindu Business Line : Away from the Tokyo madness

Having spent my childhood in India and most of the curative years in the US, my first trip to Japan was quite a shock. The disconcerting thought was: Would I have to live in a matchbox house? Being wanderlust and plagued by the ennui of urban life, I set out on a mission to discover the country and immerse in a completely different Asian-experience — a trip to explore the real Nihon (for Japan) devoid of the chaotic Tokyo madness.

While Tokyo seems to depict localised westernisation, a little beyond the city outskirts unfolds the serene Japanese countryside marked by signature castles, shrines, recherché gates, congenial ryokans, farmhouses and homes. To begin with, I sampled on the soothing legacies of the onsen, a Japanese signature for hot springs.

Resting on two massive volcanic ridges, the landscape contains mineral-rich waters below the earth-crust. We set off to Niijima and Shike-Nijima (`jima' stands for islands) by an overnight ferry towards the Izu peninsula. These islands belong to the Izu archipelago, situated south of Tokyo, housing a plethora of fishing villages and natural onsens that offer a breathtaking view of the seascapes from the hot stone-seats of onsen-beds. High up in the mountains, this was an ideal escape from Tokyo's oppressive summer heat as well.

The sun rose earlier than 4 a.m; the eastern horizons gleamed, and the ferry arrived at the island port. We wanted to savour a wholesome experience by staying at a ryokan — a family-run Japanese inn, similar to bed-and-breakfasts. Lit by traditional lanterns and embroidered with little gardens that radiate love and happiness, we were welcomed by the kimono-clad hostess into the tatami-covered lobby. Tatami is a thick, firm straw-mat to cover the Japanese-style room floor.

Within the hallowed walls of these inns is an entirely different but refreshing world of tradition and gracefulness, underlined by artistic and architectural subtlety.

Welcome to traditional Japanese life

We had a ceremonious welcome with a warm pot of green tea and a snack made from sweet potato. Holding the bowl with both hands, I had matcha (powdered green tea), which is stronger than a normal green tea. The room was sparsely furnished with a low lacquered table and several cushioned low chairs. We slid back the shoji screen (paper partition) to bring in the fresh scent of the forest air and the sound of rustling leaves. It was everything Tokyo was not.

The ryokan is often considered a confusing maze of corridors. We set landmarks to backtrack our room. Attired in our swim trunks and water shoes, we set off to explore the island on a cycle.

After breezing through the 12-km stretch of the Niijima island, we parked at the Habushiura white-sand beach for body surfing. As it is a continental reef with a strong underwater current, we played it safe and headed next to a snorkelling point. The sun was descending by then.

After a bit of swim, a glimpse of the aquatic life and a snooze in the sun, we biked to a rotenburo (open-air bath), which resembles a Greco-Roman ruin and sits on a cliff overlooking the port town, the beaches and seawaters. We had a spectacular view from this point.

Feeling rejuvenated, we headed back to the ryokan and changed into our yukatas (a single-layer Japanese summer kimono) for an elaborate Kaiseki dinner — a course-by-course preset traditional Japanese dinner served in a completely private tatami room. Grilled river fish, Sashimi (raw fish and shellfish), Nabemono (meat, vegetable, fish boiled in a small pot at your table), Tempura (deep fried fish and vegetables), Vegetable hors d'oeuvres, Miso soup (made of soy-bean paste), sticky rice, and Soba (hand-made buckwheat noodles) provided the perfect sustenance to complement our day of thermal bathing.

The hors d'oeuvres and soup were in deep bowls, tempuras on a tray, and the sashimi on a matted bowl layered by ice and grated radish. The arrangement of the assorted dishes on the table was a kaleidoscope of different colours and textures, pleasing the eyes and the tummy!

One of my friends later remarked that slurping is acceptable when eating noodles or soups, but blowing your nose or burping are considered bad etiquette! After a brief entertainment, we set off to hit the onsen.

The bathing ritual

Farmers, workers and fishermen sought onsens for socialising with liberal doses of Sake (a rice-based alcoholic beverage, brewed like beer but served like wine). Ashiyu are, in fact, exclusive onsens for leg bath, where weary travellers can soak their tired legs in sodium-rich water.

Given my conservative background, the first look at the onsen was indeed a shocker. It's more like a communal bathhouse, with just an oshibori (teeny-weeny towel) to cover up your humility. The serviettes provided by the hotels seemed bigger than these kerchiefs. However, we happily fell in line with the communal bathing rituals. Here are a few to-do's:

Before stepping into the onsen, scrub yourself down with a little liquid soap using an oshibori, seated on a wooden stool in front of a wall of taps, with water drawn from the hot pools in small, wooden shallow buckets. An oshibori is an elongated washcloth provided by the onsen.

Then soak yourself in the various pools of hot spring waters, each pool being maintained at a different temperature gradient. There is usually a wall strategically placed to separate the men's and women's onsens. Onsens for both the sexes are not common, other than the open-air rotenburos where swimsuits are mandatory.

Lounging in the onsen with warm water lapping your neck, surrounded by idyllic scenery comes as sheer bliss after a stressful urban life. If you aren't a teetotaller, what enlivens the mood is a bottle of sake or your favourite beer. As the session winds up, the rejuvenated body can only slip into a deep, peaceful sleep. The water temperature can come as a bit of a shock, but normally various pools at different temperature levels are maintained to suit your needs. For a change in temperature, we clambered over the rocks to let the chillness of wind induce a shiver in the body, and then scurried back to the onsen. After this intoxicating routine, we headed back to our ryokan, which was at a walking distance.

At breakfast, another interesting array of food items, when the shoji doors were opened, a bright clear sun flooded the room with warmth, the forest air crisp and fresh. I felt extremely well rested. A quick morning bath was all that was needed before bidding adieu to the island springs.

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