Stark Naked in the Snow:
The Joys of Hot Spring Bathing

Japanese spend a good deal of their time bathing. Every night, before bedtime, the big ofuro (bathtub) is filled and fired up for a good, hot soak. When vacation time rolls around, people spend entire evenings soaking in hot spring spas in the mountains. It wasn't long before I found out why. Nothing is more relaxing and mind-clearing than a good long scrub and soak. You finish with a clean body and a clean outlook. And a long, hot bath before retiring on a winter night makes you feel so cozy that you drop right off to sleep.

If there's one thing this temperamental, volcanically active cluster of islands has in big supply, it's hot springs. There you'll find spas, or onsen that specialize in curing various physical problems according to the mineral content of the water. You can stay overnight (bed, bath and two meals of the region's cooking for about $100), or at some places, make a day trip for about $9. It's an experience you shouldn't miss. For example:

Christmas Eve, 1995: A friend manages to nag me out of the shelter of my futon and drag me to the mountains in search of a bath. We found what we were looking for in Hakone, a mountainous area about two hours from Tokyo. A chartered bus took us to "Ten Zan," a day house that offered several outdoor mineral pools. Ten Zan was a beautiful establishment, decorated in traditional style, with wood and tatami floors. Despite the full house, it was nearly silent save for the New Age soundtrack of dripping water playing in the background. We took off our shoes, bought shampoo and towels and traipsed to the women's locker room. Along the way we passed several "chill out rooms," where people sprawled on the tatami after their baths (the experience leaves you feeling extremely mellow), drinking juice, tea or beer, talking, or sleeping.

We undressed and headed to the faucet area to wash off, and that's when the first gust of damp, 35-degree air hit me: the washroom had only three walls! We washed quickly, and made a beeline for the closest pool.

Once you settle into the hot water, you no longer notice that you are outdoors, stark naked in the middle of winter, and you can settle down, relax, hop from pool to pool, and people-watch. There were several pools: a jacuzzi-style pool, a pool with very hot water, a half-indoor pool of smooth black granite, a sauna house, and even a little cave. Each area was supposed to cure some kind of malady, from arthritis to "female problems." According to the sign above the entrance, the the cave was where you bathed to ensure fertility. I only went in knee-deep to see what was in there. I don't think my knees can get pregnant. (One of the women who overheard me commented that she'd like to see that happen.)

What about the fact that you're strolling around naked in front of total strangers? Yes, that's true, but then so is everybody else. I was cured of my initial shyness during my first two years in Japan, visiting places with my roommates and living in a homestay with an elderly woman who didn't know the meaning of the word "shy." She took me to the public bath house a few times, even though her home had a state-of-the-art, high-tech tub. There are the inevitable stares, as most of the other patrons have never seen a foreigner up close before, let alone a naked one. Sometimes I get comments, mostly about my chest; Japanese women come in various shapes and sizes, from skeletal office ladies to stocky obaasans. Most of them are small-chested. I often hear things like, "How do they stay up?" Well... um, they float.

My second favorite bathing experience was in January of 1996, on the snowy island of Hokkaido (home of the famous Sapporo Snow Festival). As part of an organized tour, we visited a famous onsen that had three outdoor pools. I soaked in the hot water while snow fell over me, and around the pool, women had built tiny snowmen (I couldn't resist drowning a few, with appropriate sound effects). When the snow stopped, the sky cleared and the moon and stars came out. Most of the other bathers left. I could have spent all night in the water, staring up at the full moon and feeling my muscles turn to Jello, but after about two hours my friends came after me to make sure I hadn't drowned. Once I dried off and dressed in one of the resort's yukatas, I reclined in one of the many "massage" chairs outside the bathing area and let the rollers do their work.

What about members of the opposite sex? Funny, but in all my years in Japan, I have never visited a coed bath. I hear they exist in very distant rural areas, and there may be a public bath house in Tokyo. The closest I ever got was at one resort, I accidentally stumbled into the men's bathing area. I have never seen so much splashing and scrambling as I had from those guys. I have to admit, that was fun!