Japanese Alps in winter: snow, sake … and monkeys in hot springs
George Hobica travels by rail and road through Japan’s mountain region to visit a handful of historic towns offering fine hospitality and stunning scenery
It was approaching winter in Los Angeles, and I was missing snow.
Boston-born, I missed snow’s ozone aroma (snow does have a smell, you know). I missed its soft crunch under my feet.
And coincidentally, I was also missing Japan, a land that has fascinated me ever since third grade.
For a show-and-tell project, at the suggestion of [my teacher] Mrs Reggolino, who also had a Japan thing going on, I built a traditional Japanese home out of balsa wood and paper, complete with shoji screens (yes, I was a precocious child).
Some places I visit only once and see no need to return.
Others, such as Japan, I have visited multiple times. I love the food and culture, but mostly I love the people and the respect they show each another and to visitors.
For example: although children are as rambunctious here as anywhere, in the Japan Airlines airport lounge once I noticed a mother bringing her fidgety child inside an enclosed phone booth to avoid annoying others (and listened enviously to a public address announcement asking people to make mobile phone calls inside those booths for the same reason).