Okuhida

Japan is known for complete sensory overstimulation. The lights and sounds of over a hundred million people moving around and going about their business. But what if you suffer from light panic attacks? Or perhaps you just like to be able to hear the sound of your own breathing. If it is quiet you’re after, then look no further than Okuhida. A small onsen town set relatively deep within the Japanese Alps. You can travel there by clean and convenient public transport in about 5 hours from Tokyo. I chose to watch ‘You Only Live Twice’ as I tucked into my bento box, but that’s optional. The only thing that isn’t optional is having non-tattooed skin; historically, tattoos in Japan were strongly associated with organised crime (yakuza). If, aged 17, you thought it would make you more interesting to have ‘Hope’ tattooed in sanskrit on your lower back, then an onsen town is not for you.

For a very reasonable £75 a night, I had booked a ryokan that offered tatami mats and both public and private onsens (depending on how excited you were about the prospect of other people’s nipples). I arrived around mid-morning and the hotel was pitch black. I approached the automatic doors and nothing happened. Undeterred, I prized back the glass and managed to squeeze my way into the haunting quiet of the dark lobby. All I could make out was a cigarette machine and an abandoned desk. I said “konnichiwa” a few times, each one louder than the last, until a smiling man ran towards me, trying not to let his slippers fall off. In and amongst the bowing he made clear I had to retreat and remove my shoes. I’d made an early ryokan faux-pas and I wasn’t sure I would recover.

Safely in my room, I took to the small table and chairs that sat pressed up against the large window and began to sip a light beer. Accessing the fridge required a manoeuvre that, if seen by my primary school teachers, would have elicited a scathing “you’ll break your neck”. The setting was calm, and the chair was comfortable. Indeed it felt very much like a room for someone who wanted to sit at a small portable typewriter and issue a despatch to the evening papers in the early 1940s.

There was no internet except in a wonderful little cafe down the road from the ryokan. It opened on seemingly random days and so during my stay I only got to doomscroll for a limited period. Probably for the best. With so much free time, I took to the warm mountain waters on many occasions, delighted by the feeling of my buttocks touching the slightly slippery stone of the baths. From the water, you could see only mountains and forests. The views were uninterrupted and I had what some might call a ‘spiritual moment’. But the process wasn’t all glamour! Before entering the onsen, one must bathe oneself first. That meant placing my 6ft4 frame on a tiny plastic stool and bracing against the cold water of the bucket I’d filled in front of me. Only in Japan do you have to clean yourself before taking a bath.

I had taken myself to Okuhida in the off season (not intentionally). This meant that the town’s one restaurant shut without question at 8pm and was usually at capacity some hours earlier than that. Thinking I was prepared, I set off at 6pm for the 5 minute walk, only to be stopped by the proprietor. He told me, regrettably, that he’d just heard the restaurant was full and would take no more guests. I sat myself at the hotel bar, also closed, and wondered what to do. I was many hours from the next restaurant and there was no supermarket. Would I have to eat the proprietor? Perhaps my eyes betrayed my thinking, because without hesitation, a range of ‘add boiling water’ Japanese meals were placed in a plastic bag and set down next to me. Murder would not be necessary on this occasion.

With fingers wrinkled and pruned to their limit, I left my ryokan for busier and louder things. Back in the harsh confines of normal shoes, I yearned for the supple comfort of my slippers. But I know what you’re thinking - would you recommend visiting? Well I hate internet people that recommend travel destinations. But in case useful, here is my list of people who should definitely go to Okuhida:

I’ll leave you to work out which category I would place myself in.