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Sunday, January 05, 2003

By Bosley Wilder

KUSATSU, Japan

As the single coach train huffed its way up the mountainside, I found myself wondering whether I was back in the Himalayas, or really in the middle of Japan's principal island of Honshu. What magnificent mountains, laden with tall green conifers!

Then, at close focus from the train window, I saw rice paddies. That was definitely not northern India.

Nor did it seem that I was on an island. I had seen no ocean water anywhere in four days in Japan.

Ah, but there was spectacular Mount Fuji in the distance.

Actually, I was in Gumma Province, in the center of Honshu, having taken the Shinkansen, the bullet train out of Tokyo, to explore the countryside. At Nagoya, a major intersection, I had transferred to the diminutive sort of Thomas train now puffing along through the hills.

I was on my way to one of the most charming towns I was to visit during my recent trip to Japan, the delightful hot springs resort town of Kusatsu. In the high hills of Gumma Province, only hours from bustling, world-class Tokyo, it's a Japanese Hans Andersen fairyland.

After the little train ride, a further climb, by bus, into Kusatsu seemed longer than its not quite 4,000 feet into the mountains. As I came into the town of 8,000 residents, I could smell the hot sulphur springs, known to be both relaxing and therapeutic, for which the region is famous. I found myself wishing I could capture the distinctive smell of underground hot sulphur springs, a not unpleasant sweet odor to which a person quickly becomes accustomed.

I had made reservations to stay at a small ryokan, Matsunoi, a traditional Japanese inn, furnished lightly, as is the custom, with tatami flooring and only a low table and some cushions on the floor. The futon and bedding would be brought out from a closet when the time came for sleep. A concession to today's world, a TV, sat on a side shelf in my room. The owner treated me like an honored guest, meeting me at the bus station (and personally returning me there when it came time for me to leave). He spoke a little English, I dog-eared my dictionary, and we crossed each other's language borders enough to get along just fine.

Throughout Japan, little presents are appreciated. I had taken small jars of honey, which most of my Japanese friends enjoy, as presents to be given appropriately to hosts and hostesses.

My Kusatsu hostess, the owner's wife, presented me with a lovely silk scarf and obi, the sash that women wear with traditional costume.

She also showed me the technique of constructing the handsome paper origami figures of swans and geese that decorated the lobby. I was all butterfingers compared to her.

At both dinner and breakfast, good home-cooked Japanese food was prepared and then served in my room by the couple themselves. This is customary in many ryokan, a matter of choice and relaxation.

For most Westerners, however, positioning oneself on the floor at table Japanese style takes a certain agility, especially if you haven't the talent to sit on your feet. I don't. I envy Asian women's ability to sit back on their legs with ease and stay that way for seemingly endless stretches.

Some folks sit cross-legged as to the manner born; I tried, but end in defeat, stretching my legs out under the table. This means eventually solving the problem of getting them back out and into vertical mode, which is a challenge no matter how many times you've dined that way.

Japanese food

	If you go ... Kusatsu, Japan A Japan Rail Pass can be purchased only outside Japan (www.jtb.co.jp/eng/level _1/07/07_index.html). However, do not buy your yen in the United States. I did, but later found that because of agent's costs, what I got was 12 percent lower than the rate in Japan. Japan National Tourist Organization: www.jnto.go.jp/eng /index_12.html. -- Bosley Wilder

Japanese food is much more than sushi and sukiyaki. I'm not speaking just of tofu and seaweed, but of dishes cooked to a refined flavor. The Kaiseki Ryori is composed of vegetables and fresh fish with seaweed and mushrooms as a seasoning base.

There's tomkatsu, deep-fried pork cutlet dipped in bread crumbs for the heavier appetite; there's shabu-shabu, tender, thin slices of beef, swished in a pot of boiling water with your chopsticks, then dipped in a sauce of your choice. Of course, there's the wonderful soba and udon, lovely solid noodles, made from buckwheat or wheat flour. They are served either in a broth or dipped in a sauce and are available in hundreds of variations, with meat or fish or just plenty of vegetables.

Few of us do not know of, if not love, sushi. However, sashimi, the raw fish eaten with soy sauce and wasabi, is another matter for many. It has to be fresh, as any fisherman knows, and is delicious. Most traditional Japanese restaurants tend to specialize in one particular kind of cooking, its specialty displayed in characters on the blue curtains (noren) hanging at the door. In many of the smaller "mom & pop" ones, customers sit on stools right at the counters.

This has two advantages: You can watch and smell the food being cooked right in front of you, and, if your Japanese is less hearty than your appetite, you have only to point to what is being cooked, or, to what your neighbor is eating. I really prefer the latter.

A discreet nod of the head in a neighbor's direction to the waiter or counterman goes a long way. There's an element of coziness in these small eateries that makes one feel at home.

Onsen

An onsen is a spring of hot mineral waters. Volcanic in origin, Japan has thousands of onsen, some 1,800 of which have been converted into spas. The variations on the simple act of soaking in hot mineral waters seem limitless -- from hardly enlarged bathtubs to huge, elegant resorts. Some are boiling mud pools or sulfuric geysers amid magnificent scenery. I've always had a fondness for some of the outdoor ones, where in winter you can rest comfortably in a hot bath up to your neck while tasting the falling snow on your tongue.

My first day in Kusatsu, I heard -- in addition to Japanese -- a little French and Chinese being spoken. Kusatsu was full of smiling Asian visitors gathered around the village square, enjoying its visitor-size waterfall. Some had taken off their shoes and were walking around in the pool at the foot of the small cascade; others sat in a nearby gazebo, feet soaking in the hot, soothing water piped there from the central spring. Most of those at the gazebo were drinking from paper cups of cold tea or beer. Everyone looked content.

I slipped off my sandals and joined in, dipping my feet gingerly into the steaming circle of water. Oh, yes, it was well worth it!

Back at the ryokan, I undressed, slipped into my inn-provided yukata (cotton kimono) and went downstairs to join other female guests at the women's side of the hot springs bath facility. Japanese custom is to scrub one's body thoroughly clean before entering the communal onsen. I complied, seated on a low stool in an adjacent bathing room, lathering myself in the sweet-smelling soap provided and dousing with the hand shower before entering the onsen itself.

What a stunning scene for a Renoir or a Gauguin: a half-dozen women sat or lay around like nymphs, up to their necks in the 106-degree water, some chatting, some leaning back against picturesque rocks to meditate or just admire the lovely bamboo and pine scene out the window. I stepped into the water with care, but soon became absolutely absorbed in it -- a heavenly sensation.

There are larger, more elaborate hotels and ryokans in the area. I liked my small and intimate Matsunoi, particularly having just come from the elegant Park Hyatt Hotel in Tokyo, which had offered urban splendor compared to the simple niceties where I was staying for a little under $70 per person per night, including breakfast and dinner.

Part of breakfast are sour plums and sweet hot peppers. There's also hot pepper plum tea beside your futon (read "bedside") at your breakfast call. The Japanese know how to wake up a person in the morning.

Japan is well known as a safe place to travel. Women traveling alone need have no fears. I certainly felt like one of the family on my trip to Kusatsu.

From Tokyo, with the artful and elegant luxury of a huge hotel with its citywide view from the 57th floor, to my simple tatami floor coverings and a ground view of a narrow lane, was quite a stretch -- and no chocolates on the pillow. But there was that sweet hot pepper tea. And waking up with a great, relaxed feeling in the onsen-soaked muscles!

Bosley Wilder is a freelance writer.