Touring Oita's Seven Hells, Riding the Shinkansen off Kyushu Island, Arriving on Miya Jima Island, Discovering Mono no Aware, and Another Amazing Onsen Ryoukan

The only disadvantage of the Beppu Ryoukan at which I slept last night is that it is facing west out over the Pacific Ocean. Somewhat predictably, when the sun broke over the horizon at 4:45 a.m. I was left with little choice but to rise with it. I held out for as long as possible, pulling the pillow over my head and closing the blinds, but eventually I caved in and  headed down to the ONSEN on the ground floor.

In the movie Apocalypse Now, Lt. Colonel Bill Kilgore comments, "I love the smell of napalm in the morning." Although I do not share his affinity for the deadly substance, I do love the feel of an ONSEN in the morning, even if I am sharing it with half a dozen naked elderly Japanese men spread out over several hot baths. Although there was a private ONSEN in my bedroom, shown to the left, the small tub is nothing compared to the grander options in the main bathing area.

After a multi-course breakfast served in a private room (one of the biggest attractions of a Ryoukan is that first-class meals are included in the overall price), we set off for the morning. We had a few hours to kill before everyone headed their separate ways - some back to Tokyo while my mother and I would continue traveling by SHINKANSEN - so we decided to tour the infamous "Seven Hells of Oita." These are a collection of hot springs attractions that each have something unique about them. Presumably, the unifying theme is that the hot water is indicative of something deadly and hellish.

The first place we visited was probably my favorite as it most closely resembled what Dante's idea of Hell must look like. Although the entrance was charming enough, with a placid pond and an immaculate landscape, we soon reached the steamy bog where Hell was literally breaking loose.

The name of this particular tourist attraction means something like "Watery Hell," which may not have taken much time to come up with, but at least it does not miss the mark. As for the thick clouds of steam, which can be seen in the pictures below, it was continuously pouring out of rock openings, which must stretch deep into the earth's core - although I doubt there is anything resembling a "direct route" into which one could simply fall (or push a sibling.) Anyway, pictures are probably the easiest, and certainly the most interesting...

The next attraction on the agenda, "Blood Pond Hell" (the poor grammar is not my doing, for once), was not designed for those unlucky few who are colorblind. Indeed, such people would wonder what the big deal was about a pool of water with only a slight mist over it. The big deal is obviously that the water is blood red, although I wouldn't be surprised in the least if the water was dyed to look that way. A wise man once commented there is a pessimist in everyone (and if a wise man never said such a thing then he probably should have).

For a quick know-your-facts lesson, this pool of water was formed in 1945 (or 1946) when the pressure blew a massive boulder hundreds of meters in the air. According to the Japanese I could decipher, a scientific team was subsequently dispatched to compile a report on the newly formed bog of steaming water. I cannot imagine the work was all that challenging - interview a few locals, take a few measurements, fill out a few forms, and collect a check.

As a testament to those scientists, I took the time to jot down a few of the figures, and will use even more of my ever-so-valuable time to reproduce them on the internet for all the world to see. (By all the world, I actually mean only my mother and the weird stalker who won't stop emailing me.)

Time was starting to run out, so we crossed out the remaining attractions, including the "Crocodile Hell," and decided to finish with the nearby "Tornado Hell." This was basically a scaled down version of "Old Faithful," found in Yellowstone National Park. We had a 15 minute wait before the next "showing," or pressurized expulsion of water. I tried listening in on the Cantonese conversation of the Hong Kong family in front of me, but even at my peak I never would have understood more than the odd word. As it stands, I was happy to remember the basics like "can I help you?"

I am taking the time to mention the Hong Kong family because they turned out to be more interesting than the actual water spout, which was still taking its time in rewarding our patience. There was a young boy who was being pestered by his sister's attempts to create a new exercise routine using a mixture of karate and dance. Being the immature idiot that I am, I couldn't help jumping down to mimic her efforts until she finally joined me for a few pictures.

Oh, and the water spout finally went off. It was interesting for the first 2.2 seconds, but even that was pushing it. In all honesty, the little girl's smile saved the day.

We drove back to Oita City where I purchased my SHINKANSEN train tickets for Hiroshima, back on Japan's 'main' island of Honshu. My mother was traveling with a Japanese Rail Pass, but I was without such a luxury because it is only available for purchase outside of Japan.

At the train station, I said goodbye to everyone as they set off for the airport, and then proceeded to load up on necessities for the upcoming train ride. The two most important things when riding a long-distance train in Japan are:

(1) Buy a quality BENTO box

(2) Buy beer

We caught the 12:14 SONIC train from Oita to Kokura (133km), and after a 15 minute wait we transferred onto the 13:47 NOZOMI train bound for Hiroshima. Being the idiot that I am, I failed to realize that my mother's Rail Pass is not valid for NOZOMI trains, which are the fastest in the Japanese fleet. Strangely, there is only a 3 minute time difference between the two trains on the short Kokura/Hiroshima route, and there is only a 2$ price difference, but that did not matter to the woman checking tickets on the train. She made us stand for most of the 45 minute train ride, which I thought was fairly harsh. In Japan, rules are rules.

From Hiroshima Station we transferred onto the Sanyo Line for the 30 minute ride to Miyajimaguchi Station. I left the two small suitcases behind our seats near the doorway, knowing full well that no one in Japan would steal them, but my mother was not fully adjusted to Japan's incredible safety and was constantly turning around to check them. I cannot say I blame her - in the United States I fear the bags would be gone by the third stop.

Judging from those who alighted with us and the surrounding area, Miyajimaguchi Station is used primarily as the launching point for boats to Iwa Miya Jima (Miya Jima Island). We bought two ferry tickets and crossed the small channel separating Miya Jima from the mainland of Honshu.

On the boat ride over one of Japan's most identifiable sights came into view: the red gate (TORII) of Itsukushima Shrine. This is something I have seen in countless photographs and advertisements while in Japan. Although foreigners may associate Japanese tourism more with the likes of Tokyo and Mt Fuji, I believe Japanese associate it more with the likes of Kyoto and Miya Jima. Perhaps it is because I have been so curious about the Japanese culture, or perhaps the shrine really is that amazing, but from the moment I first saw the TORII I could not turn away. There is something special about the imposing gate, which appears to be floating on the surface of the water.

We disembarked on the island after a short 20 minute boat ride, and rather than taking a taxi as my mother wished I decided to walk to our RYOUKAN, called IWASO. After consulting with a friendly woman at the tourist information desk, I circled its location on a black-and-white print-out map and off we went. It was late in the afternoon on a Monday so there were nowhere near the number of tourists that exist on weekends at peak hours. Indeed, one of the greatest advantages to sleeping on the island, which is expensive and would never have been possible for me if my mother was not with me, is one has much of the island "to one's self" when the ferries finish.

As is evident from several of the surrounding pictures, the island is well protected and wild deer are everywhere. Despite a great deal of development, all growth has proceeded with the interests of the island given first priority and this shows: the island is not tacky, it does not feel touristy (despite it being a purely tourist attraction), and raw nature is always just around the corner. This is a theme I will bring up again when I explore the island. Anyway, here are a few photos of me being, well, me. Also, the peace sign means something like "happy!" and is done by nearly every Japanese (and East Asian) when taking a photograph. When my mom first saw this she had no idea what on earth I was doing, which shocked me, but perhaps she is not the only one who has never seen this before.

We checked into IWASO and were shown to a traditional Japanese room on the fifth floor, with an amazing view overlooking Istukushima Shrine. However, this prime real estate does not even scratch the surface of where I would be spending the night. IWASO is the most famous RYOUKAN on the island, and with its 150 year history it has was host to nearly all important dignitaries who slept on Miya Jima. As usual, an elaborate dinner and breakfast were included in the price as is use of the ONSEN facilities.

After sitting for a cup of tea and snacks served by our personal waiter, I hurried down to Itsukushima Shrine to explore before its 6:30 p.m. closing. I was not expecting to spend more than 30 minutes looking around, but after passing through the ticketing counter I was immediately entranced by the shrine. Painted with bright red paint, and built on pillars so the incoming tide does not drown the walkways or rooms, the shrine is unlike anything I have ever seen before. It dates back to the 6th Century, although it was finally "completed" by 1168 A.D., which roughly corresponds to the period in which Europe experienced its notorious Dark Ages.

There exists an important concept in Japan called MONO NO AWARE, which is widely recognized as the most important factor in understanding and appreciating Japanese style, art, and culture. To be honest, most Japanese I have talked to admit that even they do not fully understand what the concept means, such are the nuances involved. Although I am certainly no expert on the subject, the best explanation I can offer is that it is based upon an emotional response to the 'sadness' inspired by something beautiful. Sadness is the wrong word, which is why the concept is so difficult to explain, so perhaps a few examples will better illustrate the point:

In Western culture, one concept of beauty revolves around having a splendidly maintained garden that is vast and diverse, and that captivates its audience with its sheer grandeur. Versailles is perhaps the easiest example, although there are certainly no shortage of alternatives. What is important is that the emphasis is on the monumental scale of the beauty.

In Japanese culture, scale has no value whatsoever, except perhaps that less is always better. For example, there lived a very wealthy aristocrat during the Edo Era (Tokugawa Shogunate period) who maintained a gorgeous garden with rare Portuguese flowers, which were believed to be the only ones in Japan. One day, a DAIMYO (feudal ruler) heard about this magnificent garden and arranged to visit the home. When the aristocrat heard of the DAIMYO's impending visit, he had his servants prepare the house and gardens so that they looked flawless. Then, on the morning of the DAIMYO's visit, he did a very bizarre thing: he examined all the flowers and picked out the very best one, cutting all the other flowers, killing them. When the DAIMYO visited the garden and saw the dying stems and wilting flowers littering the ground, he immediately understood what the host had accomplished: he had created the concept of MONO NO AWARE. (This example demonstrates the importance placed on the pinnacle of beauty.)

Another example of MONO NO AWARE is fairly similar in that there lived another wealthy family with a splendid Japanese garden, and a DAIMYO was also coming to visit. The father of the household had his son toil day after day picking every last weed and twig from the lawn, trimming every blade of grass and taking great pains to ensure that everything looked perfect. This went on until the DAIMYO arrived, and the father finally told the boy to stop picking the leaves and other such things; the obedient son's job was finished. However, the father then did a strange thing: he walked over to a large tree that loomed over much of the garden and shook it rigorously, so that a small fluttering of leaves fell to the ground. Then, they were truly finished.

Hopefully those few paragraphs provide insight into the concept. If so, and if such a concept "speaks to you," then the best place to experience MONO NO AWARE is at Itsukushima Shrine. What makes it so special are, in my opinion, the following traits:

The transience of the changing tide underneath the shrine. - (Transient and dynamic beauty)

The beauty of the wood mixed with the threat of rotting. - ('Sadness' of beauty, appreciating the moment)

The subtle architecture supplemented by the gripping red paint. - (Combining different emotional techniques to captivate the viewer)

The sense of history behind this manmade structure in a completely natural environment. - (An "at one with natural" feel)

A photo gallery is the easiest because uploading all these pictures will slow the uploading time, which is already abnormally high.

I was the last person to leave the shrine for the day as a kind Shinto priest allowed me to stay and admire the sunset. He must have watched me for some time because he ushered out all the other guests, whereas he simply smiled and bowed to me, gesturing that I continue. I very humbly bowed lower in return, and continued savoring what was probably my most moving experience in Japan. As a side note, this is also how I was able to capture all the photos of an empty Itsukushima Shrine, which would be impossible otherwise.

After leaving, I embarked on a small tour of the surrounding village. To comment that the village could not have been more appropriate or charming would be a gross understatement. Again, a photo gallery is going to be necessary because my words cannot do justice to the reality.

Those pictures above only scratch the surface of the island. I decided to take a different route back to the RYOUKAN, one which led me through the forest that covers 95% of the mountainous island. Again, words cannot do justice, so please enjoy the pictures.

I made it back to the RYOUKAN at around 8:00 p.m., which was perfect timing because our formal dinner was to be served at 8:30 p.m. In the mean time, I was free to admire the sunset, shown to the left, which was a moving way to cap off the day. I exchanged stories with my mother, who also explored the island on her own, until a knock on our door signified it was time for dinner. I had already changed into my YUKATA (Japanese robe), so I simply slipped into a pair of slippers - dinner was not to be served in our room.

Instead, a young Japanese woman met us at the door and escorted us to another TATAMI room across the hall, where a dinner was laid out for us. As I mentioned earlier, the meals served at a Japanese RYOUKAN are always of the most exacting standards, as is the service. We were personally attended to by the young Japanese woman, who went to great pains to provide information about everything we were eating - from how it was prepared to where it comes from to its special style of presentation. All of this was in Japanese, so I did my best to translate as much as possible for my mother, but in truth I missed much of what the woman was saying.

Finally, one last collection of photos to give an idea of what a Japanese set meal looks like. Sets are brought out individually, numbering about six or so in total, with 3-4 dishes in each set.

After dinner I headed down to the ONSEN (hot springs) where I had the entire facility to myself. It is too early for Japan's travel season, but given that HONSHU is one of the most populated islands on the planet I can hardly complain about having a little extra privacy. As was to be expected at AWASO, the ONSEN was amazing: the architectural design was simplistic yet classy, and there was a running stream just outside the bathing area.