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.

Go to Hell . . . You Just Might Like It.

--Susan, every other Sunday

Last week, the 100 Summits project took me to Kyushu, Japan's southernmost major island--but my travels weren't all mountain-related.

I also took the advice all lawyers receive so often . . . and went to hell.

Outside the Oniyama ("Monster Mountain") Hell

The Hells of Beppu, to be exact.

The city of Beppu (resident population 122,000, annual tourist population: 5 million) sits on the coast of the Seto Inland Sea on the northern end of Kyushu. It's famous for the hundreds of volcanic steam vents that rise from the ground throughout the city, as well as its hundreds of onsen (volcanic hot spring baths).

Steam vents at Oniishibozu Hell

It's also famous for its hells.

While Beppu has over 800 "batheable" hot springs--including the one that feeds the hotel where I stayed (and enjoyed a lovely private hot spring bath overlooking the ocean), the city also has seven unique, and famous, hot springs known as "hells" for their spectacular and unusual appearances--as well as the fact that their waters emerge from the ground at 50-90 degrees Celsius (122-195 Fahrenheit).

I spent a highly enjoyable afternoon on the "Hell Circuit," visiting each of the famous hells (which fortunately lie within walking distance of one another:

My tour of hell began at Oniishibozu Hell, so named because the bubbles that emerge from the boiling volcanic mud pits resemble the rounded, bald heads of monks (bozu).

Oniishibozu Hell - boiling mud that smells like sulfur. Mmmm...

I also stopped at Oniishibozu to sample a local specialty: "Jigoku Mushi" - hell-steamed-cooking, meaning foods cooked in the steam that emerges from the "hells."

A stand near Oniishibozu offers both full meals and local favorite: jigoku purin, or "hell pudding" - basically a flan cooked in the volcanic steam.

Devilishly delicious...

I'm a sucker for flan in any form, so this was a real winner.

The next hell, Umi Jigoku ("Ocean Hell") was named for its azure waters--often obscured by the abundant steam vents spouting out around the pond like the breath of sleeping dragons.

Umi Jigoku, in a rare clear moment

Third on the list, 85-degree (C) Kamado Jigoku, which features springs that emerge from the ground in five different colors, ranging from brown to red to spectacular, sparkling blue:

The main pool at Kamado Jigoku changes color twice each year. Scientists don't know why.

At one time, rice cooked in the waters of this hell was used for offerings at nearby Kamado Jinja (Shrine), which gave the hell its name.

Hard-boiled egg from the waters of Kamado Jinja. The minerals turn the whites a creamy brown.

Oniyama Jigoku - "Monster Mountain Hell" was next on the list. You could also call it "the hell of crocodiles" - because the springs at this location emerge from the ground at the perfect temperature for breeding them . . . so of course, that's what they do here.

Objects in photo may be closer than they appear. (No, this wasn't a telephoto lens.)

Why? Because Japan.

More Crocs. Ain't they beauts?

And lest you think we'd reached the apex of hellish oddities, the next location, Shiraike Jigoku ("White Pond Hell") featured both a beautiful milky pool (like the others, the color is entirely natural, caused by minerals dissolved in the water)

The White Pond Hell - with steam vents in the background.

and aquariums filled with enormous giant piranha.

They don't swim in the pond, and no, I don't know why they're displayed here. But this one is well over 24" long.

Again, Because Japan.

The last two hells sit about 3km from the others, and though I ordinarily would have walked, I'd bruised my tailbone on the snowy slopes of a mountain the day before, so I hopped a taxi down to Chinoike Jigoku, the "blood pond hell," whose bright red water is colored by natural clay:

The blood pond hell

Its fiery water emerges from the ground at 78 degrees Celsius.

Another view of the bloody hell of Beppu

All these hells left me hungry, so I popped into the restaurant next door to Chinoike Jigoku to sample another local specialty: toriten (Chicken tempura), which was every bit as delicious as promised.

This is what they serve for lunch in hell...

The detour turned out to be lucky, too, because I arrived at the final hell--Tatsumaki Jigoku ("Tornado Hell") just as its famous geyser started blowing:

The geyser, which some people compare to Old Faithful in Yellowstone Park, erupts about twice an hour, for approximately five minutes at a time. I was lucky enough to get there just as it started, and on a day when few enough visitors came that I found a spot in the front row, near the rail.

And there you have them...the hells of Beppu.

The next time someone suggests I head to the inferno, I might well take them up on it again. The food, the sights, and the hot spring baths of Beppu are well worth another trip.

Hell Hotel

by Jorn Lier Horst

In addition to being part of an interesting community, I use this blog to keep my English skills in working order. I hope I manage to make myself understood. It is not so easy with a foreign language. My grandfather got to experience that. He signed on board the freighter Polar Fart. In Norwegian fart means to travel, or be traveling. After the first quay in Glasgow the crew re-baptized the ship with a single stroke of paint to Polar Traveller.

A couple of years ago I had a visit by an Englishman. He howled his laughter over signs that alerted for Fartshump, and had to get out of the car and take a picture of each eternal one. The signs are there to get alert drivers of bumps in the road and to reduce speed. I didn`t know that hump is slang for intercourse. I do know what fart is. Humping and farting is an en embarrassing combination, that knows everyone who has tried it.

Another friend of mine worked for a period as a telemarketer, but had to take off the rest of the day off when a potential customer was Englishman and she had to ask for Steve Pick. In Norwegian the pronouncement of Steve means hard and Pick means dick. Lessons learned was also she who started an IT company and called it FagWeb it. In Norwegian Fag means skills or science. After very many hits via American homoerotic sites, she changed the name to e-profile.

One should tread carefully when it comes to international launch of national products. Kavli is one of the biggest food companies in Norway, but in Greece they had trouble launching their goods. No wonder, since the Kavli (Καβλί) in Greek means erect penis (am I right, Jeff?). For the same reason Ford never sold any models of Ford Pinto in Portugal, where Pinto means small penis. It also went wrong for Chevrolet when they in the 80s launched the car model Nova in Latin America. Nova means star in Spanish but in Latin America means Nova "does not go". In France it went wrong with Toyota's launch of the sports car MR2. The French pronunciation of the letter and number combination is namely merde, witch means shit/damn -  isn`t that so, Cara?

There are several car companies who have committed advertising blunders as a result of imprudence or ignorance about the choice of name. Prior to launch in the Nordic market, Honda had to change model name on Honda Fitta to Honda Jazz, as fitta is a Norwegian name for the female genitalia. The wife of a friend of mine in Japan had one of those cars. In the advertising brochure he could read that  "Fitta is small on the outside but big inside" and "Fitta is a daily pleasure". It goes with the story that Honda previously dropped the model name Pervo. 

The people in the hotel industry also have their challenges. In my hometown Larvik we have Farris Bad Hotel  (Bad; norw. bath/spa) and a little further north is the village of Hell (hell; norw. slope/hill). There will you also find the city hotel, wishing you Welcome to Hell. 

Jorn Lier Horst