Steam rises slowly from Mount Garan,
billowing from holes in its side as if a
seething, fire-breathing beast lurks just
beneath the earth. It’s early, and our only
company on this weathered path has been
a couple of Japanese nightingales, their
plumage grey, the colour of rain.
“They herald the coming of spring,” my
guide, Yume, explains. “Listen to their call,
it’s iconic.” I train my ear for the sound, and
as if aware of an audience, a cacophony of
birdsong bursts from a nearby cedar. Yume
laughs, clapping her hands together: “The
sound fills everyone here with joy,” she says.
“But come, we’re not here for the birds.”
In fact, we’re heading to Tsukahara Onsen,
one of the most famous in Oita (for a region
known as Japan’s hot spring capital, that’s
saying something). Located in the north east
of Kyushu island, Oita is dotted with active
volcanoes. Fault lines running beneath these
mountains form channels of boiling magma
that heat subterranean water to over 1,000C,
before pushing it upwards to explode from
the Earth’s surface.
“We have the highest number of hot spring
sources in all of Japan,” Yume reveals proudly,
“and this one has the thickest mineral content
of them all.” We smell the pool before we
reach it — a pungent odour of gone-off eggs,
but one that, I’m assured, only proves the
healing powers of the water. The minerals in
onsens, it’s said, can alleviate health problems
as varied as asthma and arthritis; they’re
so concentrated in this particular spring
that bathing for more than 20 minutes is
forbidden. After just a few minutes, my skin
starts to tingle. I towel myself dry, admiring
the simple stone pool and wondering aloud
when man learnt to harness these red-hot
eruptions of water and steam.
“No one knows exactly,” Yume tells me, “but
records show the idea of bathing may have
been introduced by Buddhist monks from
China in the 17th century, and it didn’t take
long before it became a huge part of local life.”
Sitting at the base of the mountain, Beppu
is an excellent example of the extent to
which hot springs have been woven into
the very seams of society. A small city of
sloping roofs and billowing steam, there are
onsen everywhere, from foot baths hidden
beneath restaurant tables to private pools in
hotel gardens. Wastewater running through
underground pipes here is so warm that
tropical fish have made a home in them
— unwanted pets that thrived after being
freed, so the story goes.
In the city’s leafy Kannawa district, Asako
greets us at the entrance of her traditional
Japanese lodge, Futabaso, where guests
occupying the 10 rooms often stay for many
months, taking daily onsens to help with
various ailments and enjoying her excellent
cooking. An enormous well dominates a
central courtyard, pumping mineral-rich
water to several small pools, and an elderly
man wearing a perfectly pressed yukata(robe) nods to us as he passes by, heading for
his afternoon bathe.
Asako has worked here for 50 years, and
the lodge is twice as old again, the worn
furniture and cracked walls only adding to
its charm. Between boiling eggs (in onsen
water, naturally) and stripping bananas for
her evening dessert (“the water makes them
sweeter”), she tells us a bit about herself.
“I believe in the power of mountains,” she
says. “It’s why my work has always revolved
around onsens; they’re a constant reminder
what Mother Nature can provide.”
Asako practises Shugendo, a blend of
Shintoism and Buddhism; it’s a faith in
which mountain worship is fundamental.
Whether religious or otherwise, this power is
tangible in Oita, a pulsing energy rising from
deep below the Earth’s surface evident in the
hot springs scattered across the region.
“They’re an ancient force far beyond any of
us and must be respected,” Asako continues,
gesturing towards the row of peaks just
visible through her rice-paper screens. Among
them, high above the scurryings of human
existence, Mount Garan steams broodily,
just as it’s done for centuries, oblivious to the
people on its paths, to the seasons’ change or
to the nightingale singing for spring.Onsens are woven into the fabric of society in Oita, a Japanese region where the red-hot water bursting
from the ground is harnessed into pools of all shapes and sizes, and the mountains that provide it are
revered and respected. Words: Charlotte Wigram-Evans
Oita
Boiling water, billowing steam
Trailfinders offers a self-guided seven-day tour of
Kyushu, including onsen visits and the ‘Hells of Beppu’
in the Oita region, from £1,353 per person, based on
two sharing. trailfinders.com discover-oita.com IMAGES: GETTY; OITA TOURISM; CHARLOTTE WIGRAM-EVANS68 nationalgeographic.co.uk/travel
JAPAN