Kinosaki
Image by john weiss
For the second time in the past twelve months (in April 2003) I was visiting my son who was living and teaching in Kyoto, Japan. This time my wife stayed home and so it was just the two of us. After spending the first night in Kyoto following my flight from Washington, DC, we took the JR train to Kinosaki, one of Japan’s Onsen towns near the Sea Of Japan about a 2 1/2 hour train ride from Kyoto.
Once we checked into our ryokan, we changed into Yukatas, the traditional Japanese robe, an outer jacket called a Tanzen, and a vest. Our maid showed us how to wear them but I got the order confused and when we got to the lobby, the owner and maid both undid what I had done and re-dressed me. Apparently my approach is what is done when dressing for a funeral. Each Ryokan in Kinosaki has its own distinctively designed Yukata, which can be seen as you walk through the streets of the town. At first we thought we were the only ones venturing outside dressed in costume, but soon found it was de rigueur, and even though we are both over 6′ 4", we set out confidently. Not us, but everyone else wore getas, the Japanese wooden clog shoes. There are seven public baths in town and the idea of Kinosaki is to get to as many as you can during your stay.
We went to the Kauno-yu bath. It had both indoor and outdoor bathing areas. After showering we started with the inside bath and then moved into the outside one where the air was cooler and not steamy. But there were too many bugs for me and I went back inside. I was comfortable (having learned to enjoy Japanese baths last fall) and stayed immersed up to my neck (showing that gaijin could stand the hot water, or so I thought) longer than I should have. I felt fine in the water, but when I started to get up my balance was tenuous and I was having trouble lifting my leg up to the ledge so that I could climb out. I remember feeling that I wanted to go to sleep and may have passed out for a moment as I fell along the side of the bath. Joseph was there to catch me. I heard him yell, “get an ambulance” and apparently a number of people rushed to my side. One bather spoke English and helped communication. I stayed prone on the side of the bath, with towels as pillows, and with a few draped over my naked body. So much for demonstrating impressive gaijin bath behavior. I was awake through it all and could only think I was going to miss dinner. Finally, I was able to get up with help, got dressed, and we took a cab the few blocks back to the Ryokan. Despite the ignominy, I was fine. I even got the courage to visit another bath before we left and survived without spectacle.
The next day we went for a walk around town. It is charming and very pedestrian friendly. It is built on both sides of a narrow river with the bath houses located in different sections of town, each one with its own special characteristics. We thought we could walk along the main river, which is just outside the center of town, but could hardly see it as it is separated from town by the railroad tracks that run along the river. The parts of the river we could see were attractive – surrounding mountains and nice views. But all too typically, there were small businesses and run down shacks along the shore. The town itself ignores the main river. Instead it is built around a small stream off the big river, with trees and the inevitable concrete along the banks. It is a pretty town but ignores what should have been a magnificent setting.
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