Japanese christmas

25th of Dec, 2007ce* in: diary

This Christmas I decided to take a trip to the mountains and lounge around in hot springs in Hakone, situated west of Tokyo. Myself and the lady booked a night away from the city. A present to our selves, even though Christmas has little meaning in this country of heathens, we were prepared to distance ourselves from the madness as much as possible.

The trip was interesting, riding a rickety old tram up a mountain. Apparently it’s the second highest railway in the world, can you believe it! Endless chatter of the robotic tour guide tape told us, so proud to be number two. Eventually we reached our destination on the side of the mountain, distant clouds of steam billowing from the hidden resorts stuffed randomly into the endless forest. Not so well hidden but majestically prominent was our hotel, clad in geisha girls and pre-war décor. That night we feasted on endless courses of Japanese food brought into our room by a kind old lady, things I’d never seen before being carefully levered into my mouth – bliss. Privately we changed into yukatta (a type of simple robe), to enter our private hot spring. Frolicking in the scorching water will remain beautifully etched into my memory for as long as I have a memory to retain it.
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