Further Afield 2: Nikko and the Seaside

Nikko: red-faced monkeys tout among the tourist cars for treats...

We went back to Mito, then turned further northwards to the mountainous area of Nikko. Here red-faced monkeys tout among the tourist cars for treats. Ancient volcanic lava flows have cooled and solidified, forming a natural dam for a glittering mountain lake, from which a huge waterfall spout bursts through the lava. It is a beautiful area surrounded by hot, bubbling sulphuric springs which provide water for hotels with mineral baths.

When booking hotels in Japan, it is wise to specify western-style as opposed to traditional. The one we used in Kinugawa, a popular hot-spring resort a short drive away from Nikko, was traditional, which meant bed was a mat (not mattress, mat) on the floor. Not the most welcome of sights for a tired tourist looking for something soft to flop out on.

A monkey touting for food in Nikko A monkey touting for food in Nikko

It is a bit like your own child coming face to face with E.T. in the park

Tourists in rural areas tend to be Japanese on breaks from the cities, so you have to try not to be disconcerted if you spot a child staring at you and pointing. This is not rudeness; it is stunned curiosity from a child who has only ever seen a person with fair skin, fair hair and blue eyes on TV or in the cinema. It is a bit like your own child coming face to face with E.T. in the park. It's all very well seeing an alien on Start Trek; it's another thing bumping into one.

Buoyed up by my new celebrity status as the Elephant Man of Japan, I set out to enjoy the simple delights of Nikko. The sparkling deep blue lake beckoned in the form of a swan-shaped pedalo, and my wife and I soon exhausted ourselves trying to outpace her parents and their equally ridiculous contraption. Exhaustion is good; it makes you hungry and thirsty, which means more good food and more lager.

Mind you, one small dish put before me at our hotel did contain a fish head in a sort of soup, and here I definitely drew the line. Sashimi, yes!, Octopus, yes! Green tea, yes! Grilled eel...well, OK. But a fish head? No way, Jose! Not to worry, there were plenty of other good things there and, of course, more lager!

At Nikko, there is what Scots would refer to as a glen, where three waterfalls thunder down in a wonderful display of spray and white water. Here I indulged in a shameless bout of tacky souvenir shopping. A farmer's pointed straw hat, pagoda-shaped windchimes with bells and gaily-coloured fans. You've all brought donkeys and stuff back from Spain, so don't start with me. At least I didn't buy anything that snows when you shake it.

The Kegon Falls in Nikko The Kegon Falls in Nikko

Little kids swam happily, but not me — I had seen Jaws 1, 2 and 3

It was a wrench to leave Nikko, but when your time is up, it's up. Back to Mito and more lager.

We went to the beach. My father-in-law swam. The word "sharks" came up, so I paddled in a sea annoyingly warm enough for swimming. Little kids swam happily, but not me — I had seen Jaws 1, 2 and 3.

Here I made a dreadful blunder. In Tokyo, I had asked about curious little tanker trucks I was often seeing. I was informed that these trucks went around emptying the ceptic tanks under some public toilets. Crashing into one was definitely not recommended, although the workers involved in this are apparently very highly paid.

This was not the last time I would reject good family advice and end up paying for it

We were just leaving the beach when one of these curiosities pulled up at the public toilet. My family promptly legged it for the car, advising me to do the same as it connected up its pipes. Transfixed with fascination at a process only a Scot would be tasteless enough to find interesting, I hung back to watch. Big mistake. I was almost overcome by the most appalling stench in the entire known universe. Much too late, I tried to escape the all-enveloping horror of it as it permeated every fibre of my gasping being. I staggered back to the car to a unanimous shaking of heads and fully justified chorus of "we told you so." This was not the last time I would reject good family advice and end up paying for it.

© Hugh Hanlon, 2000

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Last updated: 2 December 2000
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