Go to Hell, Part Deux: A Day With the Demons at Noboribetsu Onsen

 -- Susan, every other Sunday

Apparently one trip to hell was not enough for this (mostly) reformed lawyer--so during a hiking trip to Hokkaido (Japan's northernmost major island) last September, I made an overnight diversion to visit another of Japan's famous "hells" at Noboribetsu Onsen.

Noboribetsu is one of the most famous volcanic hot spring (onsen) towns in Japan. Numerous natural hot springs in the area flow with eleven different varieties of natural hot spring baths, each of which has different therapeutic properties. The baths originate at (and under) Jigokudani (hell valley), a volcanically-active area at the north end of town, which has long been a popular tourist site, as well as the origin of myths about the town's less-easily seen inhabitants (and mascots)--Japanese oni (鬼).  

Oni are large and in charge at Noboribetsu's souvenir shops - and everywhere else.

Oni is most often translated into English as "demon"--and between the horns and the coloring, the term seems apt enough--though in reality, Japanese oni are not precisely analogous to the demons that inhabit western hells. They share enough characteristics that the translation is close enough for stage work, though--and since today we're talking about a trip to hell, I'll leave the oni-demon dichotomy for another day.

That said, you can't turn around in Noboribetsu Onsen without running into an oni of one sort or another. In addition to serving as the town's official mascots, the oni also serve as guardians and protectors that visitors can petition for various reason, like this guy, who supposedly will help you pass your school exams:

Exams are hell - and this guy has the key

Or the delightful duo below, who will help you find a mate--or live in harmony with the one you have.

The oni of love

Visiting the various oni shrines works up an appetite--and although there are plenty of traditional Japanese options, what I really wanted was wood-fired pizza. Good news: hell serves that too.

Wood-fired mushroom pizza 

Noboribetsu Onsen sits on a hill, with Jigokudani at the northern end. A few streets branch off the main thoroughfare, but they're mostly residential; overnight visitors and day trippers (meaning everyone who isn't a local) pretty much stick to the single street that runs through town. For scale: I walked from the southernmost end all the way to Jigokudani in about 30 minutes.

A map of hell.

Japanese oni are often portrayed carrying spiked clubs, called kanabō; according to legend, they're also fearsome fighters and incredibly strong. In fact, the Japanese idiom oni ni kanabō (鬼に金棒) is generally used to refer to someone with supernatural strength or someone or something unbeatable.

An oni with an iron club

You know what else is unbeatable? Volcanoes. Like any good hell, Noboribetsu has those, too. In fact, the town sits not only near, but on and over, numerous volcanic vents--some of which emit water, and others, steam.  As you walk through town, you can even see places where new vents are emerging:

"Please do not walk into the volcano" (Not literally what it says, but that's what it means)

I'll note here that the new volcanic vent above was located less than two meters from a public sidewalk, and the only barrier between that sidewalk and the live volcano was the nylon rope and little sign you see above. This isn't the first time I've seen something in Japan that made me stop and think "you know, that might be a safety risk..." but nobody else paid it any mind at all.

I'll also note, for the record, that things like this exist in Japan precisely because most people know better than to mess with a live volcano. Which leads to a variation on a famous koan: if a volcano smokes by the sidewalk, but no one falls (in)...is it dangerous after all? 

The most famous (and one of the oldest) onsen ryokan in Noboribetsu is Dai-Ichi Takimotokan. The hotel's "grand bath" is open 24 hours a day, and features 35 different baths, sourced by 5 different hot springs: a sulfur spring, an alum spring, a salt spring, a sodium bicarbonate spring, and a ferrous sulfate spring. While it's possible to buy a day-trip ticket to the Takimotokan Grand Bath, I opted to spend the night at the ryokan:

Dai-Ichi Takimotokan

It did not disappoint. 

(A note: The Grand Bath was truly amazing, and although Japanese onsen do not allow private photography--or cell phones--in the baths themselves, the resort has some images at the 'grand Bath' link above, if you'd like to see it.) 

However, hell isn't all baths and wood fired pizzas. Some Japanese Buddhist sects* consider hell a place of judgment (and, in some cases, punishment), ruled by Enma (or Yama, in Chinese), who sits in judgment over the dead (alone or with other judges--again, depending on the sect). 

*(Not all Buddhist sects take the same view of hell, or of Enma's existence, let alone his role--but, again, that's a complicated topic for another day.)

As you walk uphill in Noboribetsu Onsen, you will pass a large, Chinese-style temple with a sign reading Enma-do (Enma Hall). Inside, a benevolent-looking statue of Enma sits on a vermilion throne.

Oh look! It's Enma!

At certain times of day, Enma "comes to life" and sits in judgment over anyone who happens to be standing in front of his temple at the time.

Pre-judgment Enma

Suffice it to say, once the proceedings started, he didn't look like "happy go lucky King Enma" for very long. His face turned red, he sprouted fangs, and he threatened to send the lot of us to hell for a very long time unless we agreed to shape up right now. 

Based on the face of the little kids in the audience, I suspect more than one of them ate their vegetables and went to bed without a fuss that night...

However, I hadn't come this far to leave without at least looking into hell--and another five minutes' walk fulfilled that wish.

Jigokudani is a volcanically-active valley at the north end of Noboribetsu Onsen. Although the valley itself is off limits, due to the heavily active fumaroles (volcanic vents), visitors can look down into hell from the safety of an elevated platform that runs along the edge of the valley.

A glimpse of hell

The walkway on the left was closed due to volcanic activity

Jigokudani Kannon shrine 

A small shrine sits on the south end of the valley; it was originally constructed in 1666 and enshrines "Jigokudani Kannon," an incarnation of the Buddhist deity of mercy.

"Jigokudani" is a relatively common name for volcanic valleys in Japan--in fact, it's also the name of a  hot spring park in Nagano prefecture where tourists go to see snow monkeys (Japanese macaques) taking baths in hot spring pools. Hokkaido's Noboribetsu Jigokudani has no monkeys--but it does have plenty of hot spring baths. And excellent food. And interesting things to see and do. 

In fact, I enjoyed this trip to hell as thoroughly as I did the last--and since there are still quite a few hells in Japan I haven't seen, it wouldn't surprise me if this isn't the last time my to-do list says I'm going straight to hell.

Surprise! Hokkaido Horserace!

-- Susan, every other Sunday

I'm currently on a three-week mountain climbing trip to Hokkaido, Japan's northernmost major island.

This is what heaven looks like.

In the six days since my arrival, I've summited three major peaks (the smallest was just under 2,000 meters, the highest 2,141), with five more possible climbs on the agenda before I return to Tokyo on September 25.

On the summit of Tomuraushi, 2,141 meters

Some of you may have seen that Hokkaido was rocked by a massive earthquake a little over a week ago (three days before I arrived). The island's 5 million residents have done a shockingly good job of recovering from the quake. Although some areas remain impacted, others have pretty much returned to normal.

Wherein lies a tale.

Two days ago I discovered that my trekking poles, permitted on the bullet train, are not permitted on the ANA flight I'm taking back to Tokyo from the northern Hokkaido city of Wakkanai. Since I travel light, my existing suitcase isn't large enough for the poles, so my guide and I used today's rest day between climbs for a detour to Obihiro, the only designated city in Tokachi prefecture, so I could buy a larger suitcase.

This is neither a city nor my suitcase. In case you were wondering.

While there, my guide discovered that traditional horse racing was taking place at the city's track this afternoon - the first such races since the earthquake. Since I love horses as much as I love mountains, we hopped in the car and reached the track just minutes before the race began.

The horse racing stadium in Obihiro, Hokkaido, Japan

We spent those minutes visiting the retired racehorses stabled near the track. The stable is open so visitors can meet these massive horses (and for the equivalent of $1 you can buy carrots to feed them - which, of course, we did).

This beautiful fellow was such a good racer that he has official citizenship papers in Obihiro.

Hokkaido's traditional racing isn't long-track, high speed racing like you see in the United States. It's short-track-with-two-hills racing referred to as "stop and go!"

The "big hill" on the traditional racing track.

The race takes about five minutes to run, and the horses seemed to enjoy the competition.

Horses coming up the "big hill" in the middle of the race.

This style of racing was invented by Japanese farmers. When the season's work was finished, they challenged one another to see whose horse could run the fastest while pulling a load.

Down the hill! It's like Western racing in slow motion. The crowd loved this part.

Today, the horses (all massive draft animals) pull weighted sleds up the little hill, to the big hill, and to the finish line.

The jockeys have to keep the horses in their lanes, or they will be disqualified.

The horses seemed to be enjoying themselves (I've spent enough time around horses to know - and these were not upset), and the weight isn't heavy enough to be cruel. In fact, the one that won was way behind and clearly decided he didn't want to finish last:

The exciting (first) rush to the finish! (There are eight more horses about 30 yards behind.)

So the 75% mark, he perked his ears forward, lowered his head, and hauled some serious horsie-tush for the finish line.

We got to watch the exciting finish four more times, as the other eight horses made their way to the finish line over the next minute or two.

I love the mountains, but I'm also an enormous fan of experiences--especially those involving traditional culture (and horses), and this was an exciting way to spend my rest day in Obihiro!

See you in two weeks, when I'll be back from the mountains and hopefully sharing more adventures from Japan's far north!