Japan Day 7: Two Halves To The Day.

Kariuwaza is a town of two halves. North of the railway station is Ginza St and the suburbs and summer homes on the foothills of Mt Asama.  South of the station is resort land, where the wealthy and wealthy-presenting come to spend and be seen spending, and possibly to ski. South of the railway station, where money bought space, lay enormous covered avenues of shops guarded by concierges, where the very air smelled of money. Expansive lawn surrounded an artificial lake, and beyond the lawns and the shops the resort bled into a golf course of grand proportions in a land where every flat space was otherwise used or cultivated.

Behind resort world and the golf course lie the ski runs, visible from the railway station concourse.

I wandered around the resort land shops in the morning, but had to leave due to the risk of price-induced apoplexy and a desire to do anything at all other than shopping.

Snow had closed the hiking trail to Usui Pass and the alternative, a vintage bus, didn't start running until April.  I decided to jump on the train to Nakakaruizawa, the less touristy half of Karuizawa, where the Nature Reserve and bird sanctuary was still open. This was easy in theory except the train ran on the Shinano railway which did not accept either my JR pass or my suica card, instead using a system of little paper tickets which went part way to explaining the situation back at Hirahara. 

Off I went to buy a paper ticket and succeeded in jamming the machine, a situation finally resolved with the help of several very interested locals and a patient railway man who did magic things to the back side of the machine, after which it came back to life and spat a ticket at me.

The road from the Nakakaruizawa railway station led straight up toward the hills with Mt Asama off to the west collecting a fine cap of clouds. The sun shone brightly, the breeze was merciless, and everywhere was the sound of water trickling and gurgling as yesterday's snow started to melt.

The noise and activity of town fell away as soon as I entered the nature reserve. As I got higher the path narrowed until the muddy slush of the lower paths was gone and I was crunching over snow.

A party of birdwatchers passed me on their way down from wherever I was going up to, so I felt confident that the wilderness was walkable. Signs warned of bears and told me to look out for flying squirrels. I wouldn't have minded seeing a bear, as long as it was a comfortable (but still photogenic) distance away. Alas, neither bears nor flying squirrels showed themselves.

I ate lunch in the sunshine in a snowy little clearing with convenient seats. Occasional walkers ambled by: young couples taking selfies in the snow, serious older hikers with serious walking poles, and dedicated bird watchers lugging enormous lenses with cameras attached.

I reached turnaround point at Akagera Rest House, with a fine view of Mount Asama, and set off to complete a loop vua the creek back to town. Well downhill was interesting, me not being particularly used to walking on snow, but I made it in one piece albeit with some rather ungraceful and mercifully unwitnessed moments where gravity threatened to get the better of me.

Back in civilisation I walked up a very steep hill to view the Stone Church, an astounding and beautiful peice of architecture.  The inside, where photos are banned,  was even better but you'll just have to take my word for that. 

By the time I was back in town a rather pressing need of amenities led me to a little cafe run by an exuberant Japanese lady whose English made up in enthusiasm what it lacked in other areas. Who am I to talk though, me with my vast vocabulary of mangled 'arigato gozaimus' and 'sumimasen'? She brought me my T-pop and a little hard candy on its own sweet little spoon. 

"Drop in candy!" She instructed. "Watch bubbles. Very pretty! Must take video!"

I did as I was told and we shared appreciation of bubbles.

Outside the cafe the wind was bitter and I had lost my beanie and relied on the hood that was usually tucked into the collar of my puffer jacket. I waited shivering for a train that didn't come. An elderly station master conveyed, by dint of pantomime, that all trains were cancelled due to a tree across the tracks, and I must catch a bus back to Karuizawa. Which I did, just copying everyone else to know what to do and luckily it was the correct bus and I ended up back at Karuizawa Station.

I hadn't quite finished with the day though. After warming up a bit I wandered back to the station to get my Shinkansen (bullet train) tickets for tomorrow and was drawn to the glittering lights out in resort land, so off I went to pretend that I was a wealthy woman for a while and check out the light show. It was all very impressive.

Lights don't keep you warm however, and the cold eventually sent me back to my hotel where a certain lack of wealth condemned me to pack my own belongings in my non-gucci bags ready to move on tomorrow.