INTO THE JAPANESE ALPS

New Zealand Listener, Volume 16, Issue 395, 17 January 1947, Page 6

INTO THE JAPANESE ALPS

This account of a journey into Japan's Northern Alps was written for "The Listener" by the Official New Zealand Correspondent with J Force.

WAS on leave from Tokio and travelling for four days with an American railroad inspection officer who was making a tour of the stations within his area. He had his own carriage, specially fitted for sleeping and with a kitchen, and he travelled by hitching this carriage to the local trains and stopping off wherever it was necessary. For the two days since leaving Tokio we had pessed inland through plains, valleys, and river gorges: it was early autumn, ith the days brilliantly clear, and the harvest-yellow of the ripening rice crops contrasted perfectly with the browns and greens of. the forests and. bushlands. Orchards of brick-red kaki (persimmons) end tangerines splashed further colour through a mest bedutiful countryside. It was cooling a little after the insufferable heat of summer. On the morning of the third day we stopped, 156 miles from Tokio, at Matsumoto, before the war a prosperous commercial city, a centre for the raw silk industry in the near-by districts. There, too, is the largest stadium in Japan, covering 25 acres and with seating for several tens of thousands. Matsumoto,js the setting off point for the many reutes into the Northern Japanese Alps and as soon as we stepped from the carriage we felt the chill in the air. The American went about his business and later the stationmaster came to our office. Would we, he asked through our interpreter, like to accompany him on a trip he had planned to Kamikochi, a famous mountain resort about 35 miles away-we would stay there the night and return early the next morning. There was no hesitation in our acceptance,

The Northern Japanese Alps are one of the three volcanic ranges extending through the whole of Honshu, the main island of Japan. The ridge, consisting of more than 100 peaks (40 of which are more than 8,000 feet) extends for 100 miles with a breadth of about 40 miles and is dotted with. both active and extinct volcanoes. Nearly the whole of this great area has been set aside as a national park and before the war was visited each year by thousands of overseas and Japanese tourists. Not the least ,of the attractions are the geysers and hot springs, and for these Kamikochi, the resort we were to visit, was the best--known centre. Chicken on the Road We left soon after lunch,-after one of those maddening endless discussions you always seem to have when anything has to be decided through an interpreter-this time the question was whether we should wait for a chicken which was being brought. by a policeman on a bicycle from a farm 10 miles away, or make do with some pork which we had offered in the hope of solving this all-important problem. After detailed calculations as to how long the policeman would take to get there (uphill), how long for him to return (downhill), how long it would take to catch the bird, the time of sunset at that time of year, and whether one chicken would be enough-after 20 minutes of rapid-fire conversation from about six Japanese accompanied by

groans from us, we decided to compromise by taking the pork and accepting the chicken as a present when we left the next morning. We hoped this wretched chicken would not be as tough as the decision as to the time of its eating had been. From Matsumoto to Kamikochi was 35 miles: we were surprised to hear that the journey would take nearly four hours. After the first hour surprise was replaced by understanding; before long we felt the only thing that would surprise us was if we arrived at all. In that 35 miles we had to climb nearly 5,000 feet. The road, which had obviously had no maintenance since before the war, was so narrow that most of the time we were looking straight down into a gorge on one. side, while steep cliffs rose abruptly on the other. The car, a prewar Ford V8, looked and felt as though it had been a troop-carrier through the whole of the Burma campaign. It rattled end shook; the rear door fell out rather than opened; when the water boiled the driver filled up from an ice-cold mountain stream, causing a minor explosion; and my companion reckoned that every time the driver blew the horn he had to change gear to stop the engine from stalling. Forest, Lake, and Mountains But the shortcomings of our vehicle and the narrowness of the road were more than made up for by the magnificence of the scenery. From the cliffs and valley slopes above tumbled mountain streams with water sparkling clear and only less cold than the ice it had melted from. Surrounding us were mountain peaks, pushing high into the sky; some of them were snowtipped and all of them were thick at first with forest and then with bush that reached almost to their summits. There were innumerable lakes set (as they say) like jewels. Waterfalls poured down hundreds of feet; two of the most beautiful-almost side by side,

with one larger than the other-were named. "Young mother and child." Soon we left the paddy fields: and fruit crops behind, but we continued to pass small villages that seemed screwed into the cliff faces. The roofs of all the small houses were heavily weighted with stones, their foundations seemed more sturdy than the usual-and although the day was still it wa¢ not hard to imagine the strength of a winter wind raking down that valley. The inhabitants apparently worked either in the* many power-houses we passed or at milling the timber that Japan to-day is so much in need of. Every now and again we saw an oxen cart or an old motor truck loaded high with lumber; but however appropriately they fitted into that mountain scene we cursed them because the difficulty of passing them delayed our progress, which was already so slow. Up we crawled. As we climbed the forests thinned a little. Once, when we stopped for the driver to fill the watertank, we walked up a side track to where a truck had run over a log whica was lying lengthwise and which had become jammed under the wheelbase. A notice in English said "prison labour" and it explained the prisoners’ uniforms and dejection, which were similarly drab. One of them sctambled for a cigarette butt which we dropped. Misshapen Mountain The higher we climbed the clouds of steam puffing up from off the road became thicker and more frequent. We were approaching Mount Yake-dake, an active volcano, which explained the thermal activity. Some of these hot springs were bubbling and only the absence of the smell of sulphur made them different from those of the thermal regions in New Zealand. Yake-dake is the most famous of the volcanoes in the Northern Japanese Alps. Almost 8,000 feet high, it rises with the peaks about it as the only one without forest and bush to soften its . gaunt grandeur, reminding us of a toad looking from a bunch of flowers. With one side ripped away by a former eruption it is misshapen, and somehow ugly and repulsive. Its last major eruption was in 1915 when the slide of lava jammed the river and formed Lake Taisyo. This lake, we saw as we skirted its edge, is great in area but shallow in depth and breaking its surface are thousands of tree stumps which have not yet rotted after being swallowed in water after the eruption more than 30 years ago. The outlet has been dammed and the water flowing from it is controlled so as to drive the power-house generators. We had now reached a huge plateau which is 5,000 feet high and which extends from east to west for ten miles, surrounded by high peaks. Highest of them is Yari-ga-take (Spear Peak), 10,176 feet, which soared immediately above us. It is the highest mountain in the range. It was now late afternoon and cold. Across the river from us was the Imperial Hotel and further on from it, our guide explained, the Japanese inn where we were to stay the night. After leaving the car, we crossed what a sign explained, alliteratively if not accurately, was the "Klappa-blashi Blidge"; (continued on next page)

(continued from previous page) the guide stated that this "blidge" was one of the finest in the Northern Japanese Alps, but he gave no reason for his claim and certainly none was apparent. In front of us was the Imperial Hotel, built to European plan, looking as solid as the rock around, and, with great stone chimneys-a rare sight in Japan. This was the hotel where most. of the overseas tourists stayed before the war in preference to the near-by Japanese inns, but now all the windows and doors were barred and shuttered, giving in the twilight of that strange setting a somewhat sinister air to the deserted building. Getting into Hot Water We walked through the trees and the mist rising from the cold ground beneath them to the Japanese inn, the Shimizuya, where we were to stay the night. It was freezingly cold; the even-

ing air seemed to have flowed from the mountains to lie round us like a lake and we regretted that instead of sitting round fires in the great stone hearths of the Imperial Hotel we would have to be content with the meagre comfort of small charcoal warmers. At the door of the Shimizuya we changed our shoes for the slippers provided for us and went to the room where we were to stay the night. Typically, it was as bare of furniture as it was, to us, of comfort; tatami (straw) mats covered the floor on which we wouid have both to sit and to sleep and there was nothing else but the wallhigh scroll and the in, cense burner in front of it in the small recess at one end of the room. Shivering, I thought enviously of the comfort of hay in a barn. Before the suki-yaki meal we were to have we went for a bath. The water came directly from

a mineral spring and now our concern was not cold but heat. Again typically, the water in the tiled bath (which was the size of a room) was near boiling and to a European not accustomed to a temperature of more than 120 degrees Fahrenheit almost unbearable. Bath routine in Japan is much more complicated than in New Zealand. The bather first stands on the side of the bath and pours several wooden basins of water over himself. He then lowers himself gently into the water (which seems more suitable for boiling eggs than for bathing) and soaks for several minutes, Next he gets out and lathers himself thoroughly with soap which he carefully rinses off, using the wooden basin and more water. Preliminaries now ended he has his bath proper, again lowering himself into the water which reaches almost to his chin and _ staying there for perhaps 30 minutes. Communal Bath-Houses Few Japanese houses have baths installed, and the custom is to use the

communal bath-houses which are found in even the ,smallest villages. Here the bathers not only have their daily broil, which includes back scrubbing and perhaps some massage, but also keep abreast of the local gossip and exchange the latest scandal-for the bath-house is a social as well as a cleansing centre. They use the same small towel both to wash and to dry themselves, the theory being that the water is so hot that after half-an-hour or so the body temperature is high enough to evaporate the moisture left on the skin. But to a conservative New Zealander such lengths to avoid using a towel as well as a face-cloth seem. extraordinary. We organised a buckets-of-cold-water brigade to lower the temperature by at least 25 degrees; we refused a back scrubbing and made no mention of massage; we exchanged no gossip and indulged in no scandal; and we dried ourselves thoroughly with our bath-towels. It still seemed a pretty good. bath.

As soon as we were dry we changed into winter kimonas that reached to the ground; they were padded to the thickness of an eiderdown and lined with loose silk that could be taken out and washed. For sitting round on those tatami mats they were ideal and they were warm enough even for that mountain temperature. Strange Foods We were to have a suki-yaki meal. Usually the overseas visitor is horrified at the sight. of most Japanese food and nauseated with its taste. Soup made of seaweed and with the flavour you would imagine seaweed soup to have, raw fish, octopus which is eaten both raw and cooked and is as unpleasant either way, broiled eels and snakes which are no more attractive on a plate than they are in their native state, stewed frogs with eyes as large as saucers, that everlasting rice which to us is tasteless and gluey, and green tea which tastes more like a laxative than

a beverage, are only a few of the dishes which are delicacies with the Japanese and horrors to us. But suki-yaki is something even the most fastidious New Zealander may enjoy. When we returned from the bath-house a table standing only a few inches from the floor had been moved into our room. At either end was a charcoal brazier and on the table itself were a large dish with our pork cut into thin slices, another with sliced onion and other vegetables, and china rice bowls set out with wrapped chopsticks in front of them. Two Japanese girls in gay kimonas were kneeling ready to prepare the meal. Using chopsticks they put meat and vegetables into a dish, poured soya bean oil over the mixture, and freely covered it with sugar. Soon it was bubbling on the brazier and in a few minutes it was ready to serve. We ate the suki-yaki (which although it is cooked for so short a time is remarkably tender) with chopsticks which with only a little practice are easy to use/ After the meat and vegetables were finished we drank the remaining juice but without the customary sucking noises. As soon as one bowl was empty it was filled again from the main dish which was kept cooking and after about the third helping we had to protest emphatically against further replenishment. Next came the boiled rice which was made a little more palatable by the addition of suki-yaki juice and raw beaten egg. Even so one bowl was more than enough. Throughout the meal we had sipped sake from the tiny china cups at the side of our bowls. Sake is not the fierce spirit so many of us imagined it to be when we first arrived in Japan, but a clear wine’ made from rice. It is served hot and is almost tasteless. To most New Zealanders the nicest thing about sake are the delicate china bottles holding it and the cups used to drink it. After the meal we played ping-pong downstairs with some Japanese students

who were on a tramping tour. Instead of playing to the usual 21 points for each game, however, it was necessary to make ten points the limit, for we did not know the Japanese, nor they the English for numerals above that figure. Even then frequent finger counting was necessary. These students, aged about 18 or 19, were on vacation and were spending about six weeks in the alps. They were staying the nights in the wayside inns and occasionally breaking their journey for a day or two to climb one or other of the more noted mountains or volcanoes. Mountaineering is Popular In Japan mountaineering and tramping through the Japanese Alps is probably the most popular national sport and is to that country what Rugby is to New Zealand. For this there are several reasons. Ground for the tens of thousands of playing fields and parks that would be needed for «team games cannot be spared in a country that already is so overcrowded. Moreover, peaks to climb and routes for-tramping are so close to the cities and main centres that a train journey of an hour or two is usually sufficient to take the excursionist into mountain country. The Japanese, too, are much more sharply aware of beauty than are we, and this they find at first hand in the flowers and shrubs, the imsects and birds, and the magnificent scenery of the hills and mountains. That night we slept,\ still in our padded kimonas, on the floor, our heds each made up of a thick Japanese mattress and three warm eiderdowns. Instead of the customary wooden pillows we used cushions. Outside a moon as round and as yellow as a cheese showed up the mountain scenery and threw into relief the smoke and steam rising from the misshapen Yake-dake and the soaring, forceful beauty of Yari-ga-take. Through the night came the hoarse croaking of frogs. --- = —