Squeeky Clean
I'm not sure why, given the inclement weather, but Host Dad decided to take the Long Way when driving to Gunma-ken. Perhaps he thought it would be senic? It wasn't, as we were fogged in nearly the whole time, but the clouds gave the mountains a sense of mystery and nauseating sheer dropoff.
It might have been possiible that Host Dad just wanted to go for a long drive. He likes to but he doesn't get much of a chance to take the car out. For his and our own safety, however, this is a good thing. In the time it took us to get there, he nearly doubled the speed limit twice. I don't doubt his safe intentions but with the amount of practice he gets, I have to admit I was a bit nervous. Maybe it was less nerves and more nausea. Host Dad's driving practice is to repeatedly pump the accelerator to get the car to speed up, as opposed to gently pressing it. Host Mom was sick no less than three times during the drive and had Host Dad pull over so she could throw up. I slept, mostly, as there wasn't much else I could do. With all our dawdling, it took us over five hours to get there and by the end I don't think anyone was very happy.
Thankfully, the ryokan (Japanese-style inn) and onsen (hot spring) more than made up for it. The hotel was top-of-the-line and not only had an in-room bath (a rarity at a bath-oriented resort) but one that filled with onsen water. The place was overflowing with onsen. Of the thirteen assorted bathing areas, we only had the chance to visit eight in our one-night stay... and I must have spent a good four hours in the bath, once before dinner, once after dinner until late and once early morning before breakfast.
The baths were AMAZING. There's nothing better than sitting naked and pleasantly warm in a bath overlooking a splendid waterfall. One bath was right alongside the river outside the resort. Half was designated bathing-suit only and half for nudists brave enough to bear the possibility of being seen. Unfortunately the bathing-suit half was scalding and the other half occupied by guys when we arrived. But upon seeing me, the men all promptly fled, leaving us masters of the rotenburo.
There were several really nice indoor baths, my favorite of which was a huge, square wooden tub in a lodge-style room. At night, the lanterns in the corners lit the walls in a warm, orange glow and the steam made everything mysteriously luminescent. I enjoyed a pleasant, traditional rotenburo (outdoor bath) at night, a steam bath, several massage-tubs, jacuzzi, sauna and a steam bath. It's a shame we couldn't have stayed longer.
The resort, par to the course, fed us an obscene amount of food for dinner and gave us free reign of a buffet (or Viking, as they say in Japanese) for breakfast. Host Dad and I both got a massage in the room after we'd digested a little. Though my masseuse had quick hands and a firm-to-painful touch that I found satisfying, he was in other respects entirely obnoxious. He noted from the start that he was pleased I could speak Japanese and then proceeded to talk at me the entire forty-minutes he massaged. This wouldn't have been that much of a problem but a) the speed of his speech matched the fast pace of his hands and b) he wanted to blather ON and ON about foreigners to such an extent that I couldn't determine whether he was racist or just obsessed.
What really, REALLY bothered me and got to be extremely weird was that he had this creepy laugh, like shishishishiiiiii that he seemed to do mostly and conversational intervals where he happened to be working rather roughly on my NECK. Though I knew consciously that I was perfectly safe, the freakiness factor of his laugh and demeanor, combined with the throttling pace of his hands unfortunately convinced my body every time that I was being strangled. My autoimmune system fired up the fear response and I henceforth became quite tense. My neck HURT the day after... it hadn't hurt before.
I didn't sleep well, as expected, but the highlight of the trip might have nevertheless been the morning. After bath and breakfast, Host Mom gave Host Sister and I money and sent us into the gift shop. The gifting money thing always weirds me out but *shrug* I'm not complaining. As it's been explained to me recently that in Japan the groom's family often pays for the wedding, which can cost upwards of $100,000, it might make sense that only now, a little while AFTER Host Brother's November wedding, my host family is becoming more liberal with their cash.
The Hotel was obviously very upper-range. They gave Host Dad and I nice, tall-people loungewear yukata which Host Dad promptly suggested I steal despite that I already bought two cheap ones. I protested because I thought he was joking... but then he insisted, saying that they wouldn't miss it and if anyone asked, I could just say that it "fell into Host Dad's bag." He really is right that a hotel yukata is potentially the best souvenir of all. So, needless to say, I have a flowery yukata that, oops, fell into Host Dad's bag.
Before we left town, we walked the streets of the village below the hotel. The place hasn't seen much change in years and years. It was a traditional landscape from the architecture down to the 1950s milkboxes on people's doors. We stopped in one game center and played 300yen old-skool pachinko. Even though we (as expected) didn't win anything, the owner gave us each harisen, a toy that looks like a cardboard folded fan and makes a nice THWAP noise when hit upon a surface like, say, a friend's head. [It must be accompanied by the obligatory Bakaaaaa!]
The drive home, for some mysterious reason, took only three hours or slightly less and I slept most of it. I was quite right in guessing that I would have a better time this trip than I did on the last when we went to Hakkone in December and I barely knew my family. It's still very weird being in close proximity to Host Sister, as nothing makes it more obvious that something isn't right with her. Thankfully, she slept about half the time we were out, including daylight hours and driving, so I didn't have to deal with the asinine questions... like "Do you like Japanese food?" >.< ... I sometimes have to field.
Fun times, folks... fun times.
VIEW ONSEN PICTURES.
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