Japan Day 18: Hot Baths, Ferry Rides, and Gardens.

Our hotel was barely 200m from Dogo Onsen, reportedly the oldest hot baths in Japan. Fed by volcanic springs, the water was carefully mixed and curated to always provide a bath of 43C. The hotel provided every guest with yakuta, obi, jacket and clogs to facilitate bathing and the onsen did a busy trade in domestic and overseas (primarily China and South Korea) tourists. Given that neither of us wanted to spend our time in a queue waiting to get into the onsen, we determined that the best time to go would be early morning when there would be enough people for us to copy, but no waiting time. The morning saw us getting into our yakutas bright and early, and preparing to step out of our comfort zones.

The yakuta were a good fit but the clogs were a wee bit small for my heffalump-sized Australuan feet.

We fumbled our way through buying a ticket, hiring a towel, and then I was on my own in the ladies' room. I attempted to discreetly follow the woman in front of me, leading to a moment of panic when all of a sudden she disappeared. Not to worry, I was soon pointed in the correct direction and before you could say 'go have a shower' my inner prude had been hushed and I was happily soaking in a bath of 43C water with a random group of other naked women.

I lasted 10 minutes before the risk of heat stroke chased me out. It may only have been 10 minutes but I'm now a dedicated onsen fan and will be conducting trials of all other onsens which I can access on the remainder of my trip.

These white herons adorn the onsen fence. There will not be photos of the inside of the onsen.

Fully clad, cooled down and breakfasted, I went back to the ferris wheel and lined up with the school children for my ride. I even forewent the foreigner discount for the chance to ride in the completely transparent 'glass' gondola. Roger, singing his usual refrain about heights, earthquakes, crushed and mangled bodies etc etc chose to stay on the ground (well, the 9th floor anyway) and photograph what was sure to be my certain death. 

I didn't die, although I did hold on when the gondola shimmied a bit at the absolute top, probably due to wind. I had fun and had a great view of Mutsuyama spread out around me, with the castle perched up on its hill in the distance.

Back on solid ground, we got ourselves a bit off the beaten track by catching one of the Iotetsu Rail Company's bright orange trains out to Mitsu station and going for a walk through the shopping street out to the fish market. By then it was midday so the fish market was long closed for the day. The walk took us past lots of historic points related to both architecture and the history of haiku in Japan, and along quiet little residential streets where the shops hadn't got the memo about opening on a regular basis. 

It looked like a cool place to hang out for coffee too.

Eventually there was no more street, just a ferry terminal with a map showing a tantalising cobweb of ferry routes around the islands of the Seto Sea.  We studied it in some detail. We could catch a ferry to Takahama to get a heads up on where we had to go tomorrow, and then catch the train home. What a bright idea, except that we hadn't a clue what ferry we wanted to catch.

Cue the pantomime again. We ended up with a ticket, all in Japanese, for a ferry, and lo and behold a ferry pulled into port so we followed the crowd and showed our ticket to a ferryman who seemed very happy to take it.

The ferry had comfortable seats, vending machines, and tables where families were picnicking. There were dedicated carpeted spaces where people removed their shoes, curled up on the floor, and went to sleep. If we had indeed made a ferry mistake, it would be quite a comfortable mistake chugging from island to island, going the long wrong way to Takahama. We settled in. Islands marched past, separated by narrow straits with fierce currents. Further away,  big ships queued to come in to port.

We hadn't made a ferry mistake. After 15 short minutes the nice ferry man escorted us into the bowels of the ship where we had the dubious honour of being the only disembarking passengers, doing so under the patient gaze of a long line of people waiting to embark.

We took a short walk around Takahama and then caught an empty orange train back to Mutsuyama and back into tourist world where everything was packaged in plastic and subtitled in English.

We finished off the day with a short wander through Dogo Park, looking at blossoms and lanterns. One hardy family had set up a picnic under the blossoms but for the most part Dogo Park was quiet. The weather had come in cold again and no one was out to patronise the few hardy food vendors who hadn't given up and closed the stall for the night. 

Outside the onsen a long queue stretched around the corner, everyone waiting patiently in the cold for their chance to soak.  We ate dinner at an udon noodle restaurant where I tentatively put on my chopstick L plates. I didn't wear any of my dinner, so that's progress I guess.

Mmmm yummy.