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| This photo was taken at our Niseko villa's outdoor jacuzzi, NOT in an onsen, natch. |
Allen had spent months working in Japan and so, out of everyone in the group, he persevered most to get all five of us into an onsen.
It was no mean feat. Although homosexual and a self-professed multimedia whore, I am Filipino and Catholic. I am conservative by nature. OK, I lied. I'm not conservative. I'm just fat.
But despite my insecurities about my figure, I am homosexual and a self-professed multi-media whore. I naturally wanted to see what all the fuss was about. So I could report something for my blog, nothing more.
Well, as it turned out, some things did happen.
The first onsen Allen brought us to was The Vale Niseko. I had high expectations. The Vale is marketed as a luxury hospitality/property brand. The cost of getting into its onsen was Y1000, small "modesty towel" and large bath towel charged on top. Whatever.
It sucked ass.
Firstly, there were no cute Japanese boys. There were only big, dough-y, old men of various Western provenance - most of them wearing board shorts. My heart sank immediately.
Secondly, the indoor pool was so hot, the water burned my skin upon contact. I could only manage to stay in it for 10 seconds at a time before running back to bathe my cooked flesh in equally stinging blasts of cold water.
I had hoped that the outdoor pool would be more agreeable. No such luck. There were two geriatric Russian bears who were shamelessly feeling each other up under the water. I didn't know what to think or feel. When, finally, one of the Russians got up, he pulled his board shorts from a big rock beside the pool. But ice had frozen the shorts stuck to the rock. He played tug-of-war with the rock for a hot minute before his shorts got unstuck.
I couldn't wait to leave.
Thirdly, the changing room is shockingly tiny. I was pulling my socks on in a hurry, only to see when I lifted my head that one of Russians was just two inches away from me, stroking his penis vigorously under his towel. I couldn't decide whether I should scream, laugh or cry. So I did all three and proceeded to run back to the hotel lobby, where I finished putting my clothes on.
Thirdly, the changing room is shockingly tiny. I was pulling my socks on in a hurry, only to see when I lifted my head that one of Russians was just two inches away from me, stroking his penis vigorously under his towel. I couldn't decide whether I should scream, laugh or cry. So I did all three and proceeded to run back to the hotel lobby, where I finished putting my clothes on.
You would have thought that The Vale would have ruined my impression of onsens forever, but no. Yukuro Onsen turned me into a believer.
Firstly, it's three skips away from our villa. No risk of dying from frostbite just to get there.
Secondly, it's cheap and cheerful at Y600, B.Y.O.T. (Bring Your Own Towel, natch.)
Thirdly, there were cute Japanese boys. Lots. Japanese-American, Japanese-Australian, Japanese-Jamaican, you name it. I was in "Onsen Heaven."
The outdoor pool is surrounded by snow-capped boulders. Hot spring water redolent with sulphur trickled into the pool, underscoring the cacophony of international accents with its rhythmic gurgle. Beside me, two frighteningly tall, young Vikings (or so I imagined them to be because they sounded like my dear friend, Jaakko) plotted about ruling the world, one ski slope at a time. Chris and Allen joined the overcrowded pool a little bit later; they were tasked with grabbing a Sapporo Beer King Can for each of us. Snow fell heavily of course, because this was Niseko.
I was the only Filipino-Catholic gay in the onsen. Snowflakes that looked like tiny angel's wings landed gently on my shoulders. I was feeling relaxed and languid and a tiny bit melancholic. Everything was beautiful, but I was still in exile.
I allowed my mind to travel back to Hong Kong, to the life I left behind. I was lucky to be surrounded by friends, at that moment, or I would have had a yucky emotional meltdown - in the middle of Niseko's most popular onsen, no less. Peter helped me tremendously with Mr. Gay Hong Kong. Allen was a judge in 2010; Greg was a judge in 2011. I was surrounded with people I love.
I suddenly had a thought.
"GREG!!!" I clapped my hands excitedly, as I do when I think I have a bright idea. "Would you like to go to JoBurg and be a judge at Mr. Gay World?"
"JAMESSS!!!" Peter hissed.
"JAMESSS!!!" Peter hissed.
The entire onsen fell silent. Even the hot spring fountain stopped gurgling immediately.
ALL the beautiful boys gingerly reached for their towels and wordlessly left the pool. In a single file.
In 10 seconds, only myself, Chris, Peter, Allen and Greg were left in the pool.
In 10 seconds, only myself, Chris, Peter, Allen and Greg were left in the pool.
What did I do?!?
We clearly could not return to Yukuro after I had frightened all the boys away. But we wanted to do one more onsen on our final day whilst waiting for the train that would take us to Sapporo.
The Hirafu-tei Prince Hotel had too many things going on. Entrance was Y800 but there were too many buttons on the onsen ticket vending machines, too many lockers-for-coins, too many keys, too many tourists from Hong Kong, etc. It was all so confusing.
The pools are large and have varying temperatures, blah blah blah. The real highlight is, you get an outdoor onsen that overlooks the family beginner slope and ace family pair lift. The outer wall obscuring the view into the onsen is low. Modest bathers should grab their towel even before getting up from the pool, unless they want to give the skiers and snowboarders a free show.
I could literally see beginner boarders fall flat on their bums just tens of metres away, and I smiled inwardly.
That was me just a few days ago...
Back in the changing room, I held one of the onsen's packed toothbrushes whilst searching for a tube of toothpaste in vain.
"Just start brushing your teeth," Greg suggested.
And so I did.
It turned out, each individual bristle was already pre-coated with toothpaste before it was plastic-packed.
"I love Japan," Greg said.
Three different onsens? Within five days? With gorgeous boys? Outdoors? In the snow? With a view? With magic toothbrush?
It was a religiously cleansing experience for the mind, body and soul.
A-Men.
