I excused myself before the end and hurried off to Shinagawa, where I was meeting Jill, Geraldine and Cindy. By coincidence, I realised that none of us had our baby in Japan and wondered if that might partly explain why we get along so well. Though I'm sure they don't mean to, those who went through childbirth here sometimes seem to feel a certain sense of superiority as a result, and indeed, I take my hat off to them. As I waited for them to arrive I felt a bit queasy about leaving Emily, which is quite understandable despite my need for some relaxation.
We caught a local train to Atami, which gave us enough time to eat a snack lunch (and in one case, naming no names, a can of beer) and have a good natter. Cindy and I were seated together, with the other two in a separate pair of seats. Their conversation was obviously a lot more saucy, judging by the jollity and flushed faces! It was a rather grey day, but as we neared our destination we could look out to sea and Oshima island was lurking there in low cloud.
A courtesy bus whisked us down from the station perched above the town, to Korakuen Hotel, which is next to the sea at the far right side of the bay. The town is hemmed in by hills, and spreads right up them like an uglier version of Nice (I am always surprised by the proliferation of concrete monstrosities in Japanese resorts - as I've mentioned before, for a people who love nature and beauty their architecture is far from aesthetically pleasing). The hotel was large and bland, but fairly swanky inside, with vast expanses of cherry blossom print carpet. The poor attendant who escorted us to our room was bombarded with questions in poor Japanese liberally interspersed with English, but we managed to ascertain where and when we could bathe in the communal onsens. Our room was only 8 tatami mats in size (that being the standard used for measuring room sizes here), but that was enough for four futons. It had a good view round the bay and of the town sprawling up the slopes. Above, we could see lots of the black kites that are ubiquitous in coastal areas circling menacingly.
As it was a wet and dull day, we entertained ourselves with a visit to the Adult Museum, conveniently situated on the clifftop above our hotel. We rode a quaint old cable car up there and were soon at the front desk of the attraction, where we were greeted with the sight of a model turtle with, shall we say, a rather unusual head. Inside we found it to be a bit lewd but mainly quite tame; with the exception of some old drawings it was more suggestive than explicit. The artists and model makers were obviously employing a lot of wishful thinking where the appendages were concerned!
Back at the hotel we opted to try out the bath without further ado, so we donned our pink yukata robes and headed straight there.
This was an initiation in communal bathing for one or two of the others, and when we entered the changing room full of naked women there was some hesitancy. I well remember how daunted I was the first time I went in one, but it helps if you are with someone who knows the ropes. We stripped off and scurried through to the steamy bath room. It was the biggest one I've been to, with one curved stone wall lined with wash stations. There was a small jacuzzi bath, a larger bath, and a wooden one that was outside. We tried them all; the water was good and hot, but not so much that I had to limit my time in there. We managed to sit around and chat without being embarrassed, and it was good to at last share an onsen experience with someone else, as I always get bored quickly when I go in on my own.
In our room, we cracked open one of the many bottles of wine we'd brought, and tucked into pre-dinner snacks. We had chosen to take the second sitting for our evening meal, and found it to be in a cavernous dome of a hall which must be used for events as it had a stage and a gallery above. There was plenty of food on offer at the buffet, but I confess my main focus was on the dessert table. I didn't think the food was of very high quality, but then I usually feel that a kaiseki ryori (high cuisine) meal is wasted on me because I don't really like half of it.
We carried on the festivities back in our room, downing a fair amount of wine and scoffing snacks and chocolate well into the night. I had been really looking forward to playing games, and we did spend about two hours playing 'Who Am I?', which was hilarious. We also exchanged an awful lot of personal stuff: I think those three know more about me than anyone except Nick. Around twelve we got down onto our futons, but Cindy and I couldn't sleep and kept nattering (and keeping the other two awake) until at least one.
No comments:
Post a Comment