The kindness of naked strangers

I have had the pleasure of spending the weekend with the inimitable Sergeant M , who has come to Japan with the sole intention of seeing the delightful Miss E and myself, and also of drinking copious martinis. Since there is only one place in Tottori where one can buy copious Martinis, it was my task to furnish Sgt M with some other campaign plan which would leave his liver intact for the rigours of Hiroshima. For this task I drafted in the stunningly handsome Mr. Hiroki (who I admit looks a bit more stunned than stunning in this picture) and his charming and pretty girlfriend Miss Kaori. They have the singular advantages of being Japanese, stunningly good looking, amazingly cool, and quite well-acquainted with the local area. They also have a car.

Our first two days in Tottori were spent in car-free activities such as visiting the strange white house called the jinpukukan (I think), struggling around koyama in the stinking heat on borrowed bicycles, and staring in horror at man-sized newts in the local museum. Have I mentioned that Japan has a man-sized newt which is well at home in the rivers and dunnies of Tottori? Fortunately for all of civilisation it lacks teeth, but if you were to bump into this bugger mid-squat near a lonely onsen I'm sure that the lack of teeth would not be immediately noticeable.

But I digress... yesterday was the day of our big Japanese Tour, when Sgt M and I met Mr. Hiroki and Miss Kaori and drove about Tottori doing Very Japanese Things. We drove in Mr. Hiroki's car because, sweet and innocent though she may seem, Miss Kaori has removed the backseat from her rather formidable sports car and replaced it with speakers, so there is no room for guests. Our first stop was a sushi restaurant, where on only his 3rd day in Japan Sgt M showed himself a willing sort, and ate Nattou as well as sea-urchin, possibly the two most grotesque things in the Japanese diet. The sushi was delicious and filling and well worth the wait (also very cheap!). The nattou was not, of course.

After this we drove to Kurayoshi, the next city along the Sanin Coast, stopping along the way at a lookout near Miss Kaori's hometown, where the much more expert Sgt M took some photos and i took a snapshot of the three of them against the backdrop of distant mountains and a grey sea. At Kurayoshi we stopped at a cafe and had some coffee and sherbert (gelato) while looking at the cafe's rather pleasing little Japanese garden; we then resumed our journey to our main goal, Misasa Onsen.

As some of you will no doubt be aware, an Onsen is a pool of hot water welling up from beneath Japan's rather unstable surface. The Japanese, like the New Zealanders, like to sit in these hot pools stark naked while swapping stories about how deeply they are willing to bow to strangers (or sheep). In some cases whole towns spring up around onsens, for all the world like Lourdes (if it were blessedly free of French people). Misasa is such a town. It has the singular privilege of having an outdoor onsen which is right next to the river (but too hot for Japan's man-sized newts to sneak in under cover of my nakedness). Mr. Hiroki's plan was to sneak us into this onsen at dusk, so that we could lie back in the steaming water and gaze at the stars while our blood boiled. I thoroughly approved of this plan, but Sgt M was not so sure at first, given the extraordinary value of his Crown Jewels and the amount he has had to insure them for, as well as his singular lack of experience in public bathing etiquette. I also have no experience of public bathing, so wanted a local guide. Enter Mr. Hiroki!

So it was that we found ourselves walking across the bridge looking at the view of the valley, half an hour prior to sunset. The view from the onsen itself I show here:



Unfortunately I cannot show you the view from Misasa bridge, because it includes the Onsen. That's right, the rather inadequate bamboo screens around the onsen do not quite hide the nakedness of its occupants from the view of the main bridge through town - or the restaurant we ate in, either, from the windows of which one can see all that is to be seen. Miss Kaori walked across the bridge with a towel over her face so she did not have to witness the dreadful spectacle of all those toothless Japanese newts, but this was only the first of many surprises. This is Hiroki's favourite onsen because of its evening views, and in his eagerness to introduce us to it he neglected to mention it is a mixed sex onsen. For a brief moment I had a sudden fear that I would be bathing with Miss Kaori, but she assured me afterwards that there was no risk that this was ever going to happen. Whew!

So it was that we found ourselves getting naked in front of 6 Japanese men and an old Japanese woman. I should also mention that under the waning evening light our terribly pale Australian bodies glowed like the stars reflected in the pool. Having attracted as much attention as we could with our radioactive skin, once we were in the water the inevitable conversation started. One of the men in the small group using the onsen drifted up to us, so that he hung in the water very near our palely luminous, bobbling bits, and began asking us where we were from, what we were doing, and so forth. This conversation inevitably ended as one would expect when a naked white man talks to a 40-something Japanese man in the country - with him poking my tattoo and trying to wash it off, while peering very closely at my naked chest and asking questions about the design, how long it took, etc. I have become used to answering these questions, though, although perhaps not while naked, so it was okay. Part of the reason we were at this onsen was that other onsens prevent us from entering on account of these same blots on our otherwise flawless (!?) skin, so I suppose it was only inevitable that the nice chap should have some questions. He was, of course, unfailingly gentle and kind, and all of his questions and behaviour left us feeling completely at ease and comfortable. He then subsided to the other side of the pool to drape his towel on his head.

Once we were safely ensconced in the scolding water Miss Kaori came down to join us, dipping her dainty feet in the onsen and sitting fully clothed on the edge chatting to Mr. Hiroki while we bared our not inconsiderable wares to the world (well, except for the dark and the rippling water). Matt even got to show Miss Kaori his tough-sticker, which is a singular achievement since it is just above his bum. At various points we had to stick various parts of our bodies out of the water in order to cool off, then subside again, but I think adversity was a good teacher and we got the hang of using our modesty towels very quickly. Miss Kaori saw no more than was strictly necessary, I am sure.

As always after bathing I was dizzy and weak, so after we had emerged dripping from the steaming water we retired to the restaurant which commanded a view of the same pool, and polished off a mountain of food. From there, tired and relaxed, we returned to Tottori, Sergeant M having successfully experienced the very essence of rural life, and conquered his fear of naked communal bathing, all in one easy afternoon with good friends. Huzzah! No more casual and pleasant introduction to Japanese Volcanic Bathing could be hoped for in this long green land! And so now Sgt M heads off to Hiroshima, where he will remove unnecessary internal organs through the application of copious quantities of astringents in a variety of fascinating bars to which the Delightful Miss E will introduce him. In 4 days I meet him again in Tokyo, where the three of us will show an unrelenting commitment to partying and shopping.