Friday, 2 November 2012
I wasn't a well boy when I surfaced on Friday morning, but that probably comes as no surprise under the circumstances. Given my 'druthers I'd happily have given the previous night's middle bottle a miss, but under the circumstances the other party doing the serious drinking wasn't familiar with Australian wine and it was, as far as either of us could tell, the only Australian red on the list.
That's my excuse and I'm sticking to it.
Fortunately, after a big night, this was a big travel day, and one that, initially, didn't involve a great deal of humping the Black Monster up and down staircases. If it had, I suspect there may have been fatalities.
If you are seriously hung over there are definitely far worse places to be than a speeding Shinkanen, and the transfer from Sendai to Omiya was relatively painless, and Omiya kicked in with the novelty factor since we were boarding one of the double decker Shinkansens. Madam's concerns about stowing the luggage were probably real enough, but weren't the sort of thing you wanted to think about when you've got what P.G. Wodehouse was wont to describe as a morning head.
Sure enough, once we'd boarded and made our way upstairs on a rather tricky curved stairway that would probably have posed no difficulty at all for a teetotaler unencumbered by Black Monsters, there was the regular space behind the back seats in the compartment where said monster could be stowed.
Apart from worrying about luggage space, Madam had organized lunch, which, predictably, came in a bento container and, somewhat less predictably was completely demolished with the aid of chopsticks. I'd only actually managed to do that once before but am currently disinclined to get myself back into the state which seems to have made the feat possible.
After the Shinkansen we progressively downgraded, first to a Hakutaka which was still rather shmicko, then onto a local line operated by Toyama Regional Railways (Toyama ChihÅ Railway) a third sector company that are obviously doing it tough in an environment where travellers are increasingly likely to head where they want to go by car or bus. The company operates railway, tram, and bus lines in the eastern part of Toyama prefecture, with their main line running from Toyama to Unazuki-Onsen (which was where we were headed). It's part of a mere 93.2 km of lines to hot springs and the mountainous region of Tateyama.
The Hakutaka dropped us at Uozu, and while I wasn't keen on an up the staircase and across the bridge and lump the Monster back down the other side to access the private line, Madam scoped out an elevator on the JR side though there was no escaping the old heave ho as we climbed the stairs to access the local line. Being a local line we were up for the fare as well, since the JR Rail Pass wasn't valid on this section.
The sight of the train that eventually rolled into Uozu didn’t do much to inspire confidence, and from the look of the trains that passed in the other direction it definitely seemed we’d paid our dosh to a company whose rolling stock comprised whatever weatherbeaten items they'd managed to spare from the scrap heap. There wasn’t any sign of a standard livery pattern, for example, and you’d be inclined to think most of the rolling stock wasn’t far off its last legs.
Or, in such cases, I guess, its last wheels.
But although they mightn't look all that flash, at least they work and we arrived at the onsen at Unazuki Spring late in the afternoon, with Madam enthused about the hot bath experience and Hughesy grateful for anything that would further reduce the pain (although the worst had, admittedly, subsided).
Developed after 1923 as an off-shoot of the hydroelectric projects that brought people into the previously inaccessible mountain region along the Kurobe Valley in northeastern Toyama prefecture. Unazaki is rated as one of the purest hot springs in Japan.
It’s at the entrance to the Kurobe Gorge, and marks one end of the sightseeing train route that runs through a deep V-shaped valley to Keyakidaira. The Hot Springs are, however, the main attraction, drawing their water from Kuronagi-onsen, located upstream on a tributary of the Kurobe River, where three thousand tons of water per day gushes out of the ground at temperatures around 91°C. It cools down a little over the seven kilometre journey to Unazuki-onsen but is still 60°C when it reaches the two metre fountain in front of the station at Unazuki. The waters are said to be effective in treating rheumatism and neuralgia, sports injuries, and nervous disorders.
Today, it’s a fairly up to date hot spring resort full of ryokans and modern hotels, including the one we were patronising which trades under the name of Feel Unazuki and offers the interesting combination of Japanese-style rooms (complete with tatami matting), flat-screen TV and free Wi-Fi.
You get your own toilet, which, predictably is of the washlet persuasion, but if you’re looking to bathe you’ll be doing it in the onsen facilities. No sneaking into the western-style shower here, folks, and you can forget the beds as well. It’s a futon on the floor, a quilt over the top and that’s it. Pretty spartan, really, but I can vouch for the quality of the night’s sleep, which was sorely needed.
It is, on the other hand, reasonably priced (¥6,000 per head for a two (persons room) and there’s no price differential on weekends and holiday periods. There’s a Natural observation bathroom (Sky Spa) on the top floor giving you the onsen experience along with views over the Kurobe Gorge.
It’s the closest hotel to the Kurobe Torokko railway terminus, and a shortish walk from the regular train station, which is also the terminus of its like. There are plenty of alternatives if you’re chasing accommodation, and you can get some idea of the scale of the Japanese passion for the hot spring spa routine from the fact that the resorts in this particular location employ four thousand people.
If someone had sprung that factoid on me in the afternoon I’d have been loath to believe it, but that was before the following day’s experience.
Apart from the abundant waters (if you don’t believe me I’d point you straight towards the existence of a couple of hot spring baths where weary travellers can soak their aching feet, built to commemorate the resort’s eightieth birthday) the other attraction is the local beer, brewed using clear water from the Kurobe-gawa River and local barley from Unazuki. After a private session in the onsen I sampled the local brew over dinner with a curry, and can definitely say it lives up to its reputation.
Since I’d been suffering from the after-effects of overindulgence all day it probably comes as no surprise to learn I was on the futon under the doona, sawing logs like it was going out of style not long after seven-thirty.
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