What have I done?
Snowflakes drifted carelessly around me as I pondered the life choices that had brought me to this moment in rural Japan—where I stood in the frigid cold, surrounded by 30-degree temperatures, completely bare.
The chill seeped into my feet, numbing them against the icy stones beneath. My nose and ears started to feel uncomfortably warm—a confusing sensation that made me question my Boy Scout training. Was the first sign of frostbite a burning sensation, or was it numbness?
Before me lay a steaming hot spring, presenting me with a perplexing dilemma: endure the biting cold or immerse myself in the scalding water. It felt as if I had stepped into a scene from “Shogun.”
But let’s rewind a bit.
I was in Japan for my annual visit to my in-laws in Kagoshima Prefecture. Being the southernmost region of Kyushu, Kagoshima feels like the world’s edge. If you take a boat south, 2,200 miles of ocean separate it from Indonesia, and head east, it’s another 6,200 miles to Mexico. This isolation adds to its allure. After residing in the small, close-knit town of Oita in my twenties, I’ve always encouraged friends and family to venture beyond Japan’s urban centers. While rural areas may lack the “kawaii” culture or Instagrammable treats, they offer a treasure trove of fresh food, open air, stunning landscapes, and warm hospitality.
One activity I eagerly anticipate outside the bustling cities is visiting an onsen, a hot spring resort. Onsens are uniquely tied to Japan’s volcanic landscape and have been central to the culture for thousands of years. Unlike other hot springs, such as those in Iceland, onsen bathing embodies a ritual that enriches the experience beyond mere relaxation.
To start, onsen visits are traditionally done without swimsuits; nudity is essential to the experience, which may feel uncomfortable for first-timers. During my initial visit as a teenager, the idea was unthinkable, but over time I learned to embrace this aspect, finding liberation in it.
Additionally, one must wash thoroughly before entering the bath. While it may seem odd to cleanse oneself before using a communal bath, it’s reassuring to know that everyone around you is equally clean. Visitors typically comply with the ritualistic washing at designated stations, contributing to a shared experience of respect and cleanliness. At an onsen, social status becomes irrelevant; the CEO and the baker find equality in the soothing waters.
For my stay, I selected the KAI Kirishima resort, managed by the well-regarded Hoshino Resorts. Nestled on Mt. Kirishima’s slopes, the resort overlooks the stunning Kirishima-Kinkowan National Park. The surrounding landscape is astonishingly beautiful, adorned with forested hills, vibrant fields with deer, and the distant Sakurajima volcano. The hotel cleverly designed the rooms to capture the breathtaking views while creating anticipation along the journey to reach them.
The KAI Kirishima resort exemplifies the Japanese principle of omotenashi, a form of hospitality marked by attentiveness and service excellence. The staff maintain an unobtrusive presence, appearing just when needed and always willing to help. This commitment to service extends to everything from meticulously arranging sweets to ensuring that the onsen rules are clearly explained. The level of pride in one’s work—whether sweeping the floor or preparing food—shines brightly throughout the country, particularly in rural areas where every visitor feels cherished.
The Japanese countryside is strikingly picturesque, characterized by patterns of tea fields, lush bamboo groves, and quaint towns seemingly frozen in time. Hiking trails abound, inviting explorers to encounter scenic pit stops and breathtaking vistas throughout every season. Spring brings blooming flowers, summer envelops you in cicada serenades, autumn offers breathtaking foliage, and winter’s tranquil beauty invites peaceful reflection.
Kirishima-Kinkowan National Park serves as a paradise for nature enthusiasts, eager trekkers, and photography aficionados. Trails meander through ancient woods, lead to crater lakes with whimsical names, and pass forgotten shrines enveloped in moss. The landscape evokes images of feudal lords and ascetic monks traversing these paths centuries ago.
Despite its rugged natural beauty, the countryside radiates warmth and community spirit. Scattered roadside stands operate on the honor system, and farmers often invite you in to sample their latest brews. Local festivals spring up spontaneously, summer evenings filled with children catching fireflies and grandmothers sharing homemade pickles, creating a vibrant community atmosphere.
Yet, if nature isn’t your sole focus, Japan also offers a robust selection of local spirits. Meet shochu—Kagoshima’s pride—especially when made from sweet potatoes rather than rice or barley. Known for its complexity and earthy umami, this spirit invites tasting adventures far beyond conventional notions of liquor.
A visit to the source is essential, and my hotel arranged a private tour at Kokubu Shuzo, a charming distillery about 45 minutes away. This experience, though less glamorous than Napa, involves exploring fragrant fermentation rooms where sweet potatoes transform into delightful spirits. The staff passionately shares their craft, often using a quaint dialect that may puzzle many visitors.
INSIDER TIP: Should you visit a local distillery, you might spot some “not-for-public-sale” reserves offered to eager guests. Small distilleries foster a familial atmosphere that invites appreciation for quality craftsmanship. Leaving without a bottle is almost a missed opportunity!
What remains etched in my memory is not the baths, the endless feasting, or even the spirited afternoons spent tasting. Instead, it’s inaka—the countryside itself—where time seems to slow down, urging you to embrace leisure rather than rigid schedules. Each day begins with the question, “What do I feel like doing today?” Maybe it leads to the serene Kirishima-jingu shrine, or a stroll through the Kirishima Open-Air Museum. Or perhaps you just desire stillness under the sun, wrapped in a yukata with the scent of yuzu lingering from your latest soak—successfully embracing the essence of relaxation in Japan’s inaka.
So, that initial chilling moment? It was me stepping into the outdoor rotemburo bath.
I left the bathhouse, bare as day, stepping onto frostbitten stones that sent chills through me. I hesitated for a moment, then took the plunge into warm mineral water. It transformed the icy journey into a gratifying reward. As I submerged, the cold melted away, stress dissipated, and I found the courage to converse with fellow bathers—strangers like me, savoring the beauty of the moment.
With swirling mists and ancient trees in the background, I realized that this is how relaxation should feel. No distractions—just nature, soothing sounds, and an understanding that life, in this context, is truly fulfilling.
