Kyushu Part 1 – Fire and Water

So, to Kyushu then. With Japan’s run of consecutive public holidays in the first week of May (otherwise known as Golden Week) needing to be filled, myself and fellow JET Gemma set about planning a week’s jaunt that would take us in a triangle around the northern half of Kyushu, Japan’s southernmost major landmass.

First stop was Beppu, famous for its hot springs and reputation as a slightly trashy yet fun resort town – a kind of Nippon Blackpool if you will. While there we had ourselves the pleasure of a sand bath, whereby one dons a red gown, lies down in a pit of hot, black sand and is buried up to the neck in the stuff by the bathhouse’s attendants. You’re meant to lie there for about 15 minutes, while the sand slowly starts scalding the parts of your skin not covered by the gown and sweat slowly starts getting in your eyes. The volume of sand on top of you is mercifully low enough to make it possible to simply stand up once you’re done, and very good for skin it is too, I’m sure. The only problem I could see was the fact that I left the place smelling of earth, and in the knowledge that I now had black sand trapped in somewhat, well, hard to reach places shall we say…

As part of our onsen odyssey, we also took the time to visit a remote natural spring in the hills overlooking the town, maintained and kept tidy by local residents on a voluntary basis. Little more than a naturally heated pool with a small shack beside it to act as a somewhat limited “changing room”, this was surely about as natural as onsens get – just you, the hot sulphurous water and the elements. And three naked fat guys in their late fifties.

Yes, just because it’s the last word in al fresco soaking doesn’t mean that the standard onsen etiquette of bathing with nothing besides a small hand towel to cover one’s modesty is in any way deviated from. Gemma manfully went the full monty, despite the presence of no women whatsoever, what few there were loitering instead further back along the path. I’m sure neither of us violated any major unwritten protocol, and the men there (who scarpered soon after we entered the water) didn’t seem to mind at all. Funny, that…

We also found time to take in what’s arguably Beppu’s largest tourist attraction, the ‘hells’, large pools of naturally heated spring water, hot enough to produce steam. Legend has it (or the guidebook, at any rate), back in the day Christian missionaries would be thrown into these things, hence the origin of the name. These days the hells swarm with a multitude of tourists and school parties all queuing to see…some colored water.

The blue hell we saw was certainly quite pretty and was surrounded by pleasant gardens, with a random greenhouse thrown in for good measure. The mud hell contained hot bubbling mud that brought to my mind melodramatic scenes set in the arch-villain’s lair from Flash Gordon and James Bond films, which was quite diverting. The red hell, however, really did just come across as a warm bath into which someone had dumped a load of food coloring and beside which had constructed the mother of all souvenir shops. I think you know you're not on to a good thing when said shop seems to take up more square meters than the attraction itself. Hey ho, you win some, you lose some.