Experiencing Hell & Heaven in Beppu

Japanese customs aren't always the easiest to get to grips with, but getting used to onsen culture isn't much like hard work. Kate Crockett takes a long soak in Beppu.

The pilgrim, with his beads, white haori and distinctive straw hat looks slightly incongruous standing outside the Oita bank in big, brash central Beppu. The city does get its fair share of followers, but not usually of the pious kind. Beppu's worshippers come here for the holy waters of its onsen.

For the weary pilgrim — or English teacher — there are eight hot spring areas around the city to choose from, churning out enough hot spring water to fill 3600 25-metre swimming pools (apparently!) — that's a boiling pool of heaven round every corner.

But hell is very popular here too. Or, at least, the Jigoku (hells) are. These are the onsen you don't want to take a dip in -unless, of course, you want to be boiled like an onsen tamago. They are located in the Kannaw area of the city, from which there is also
a marvelous vista over the city.

The most eye-catching hells are Umi Jigoku (Sea Hell) — a brilliant cobalt blue — and Chinoike Jigoku (Blood Pool Hell) — which is a deep red and bubbles to the surface just below boiling point. Umi Jigiku is set in colourful tropical gardens — where giant lily-pads thrive in the pond — making it a pleasant spot to stop for a break (or an onsen tamago).

Bus-loads of visitors happily fritter away the day hopping from onemhell to another — on an "eight hell ticket" at a cost of 2000yen (each individual hell is 400yen). But this misses the real point of Beppu — the bathe-able hot springs.

The one hell which is worth heading for however, and which, incidentally, isn't included in the eight-hell ticket, is Bozu Jigoku (Monk's Hell). The hell itself is a series of boiling mud pools, named Monk's hell because the bubbles spluttering to the surface look like
a monk's bald head.

It's mildly engaging — but the real reason to go there is for the hidden pocket of heaven next door — Koodei onsen — a fabulous mud hot spring (doro-yu). For 800yen you can wallow like a hippo all morning (it's only open in the morning) in this humble open-air onsen, smug in the knowledge that this little gem isn't even on the map! It's very much a locals' hang out, but the atmosphere is friendly.

Wash next to the 'normal' hot spring bath outside the changing room and then head for the cloudy grey bath. The idea is to soak in the tub for a five or ten minutes, then get out and sit in the sun to let the mud dry on your skin, so it can work it's magic — but you can expect one of the regulars to take you under their wing and guide you on the etiquette.

The kindly 62-year-old lady who ensured I avoided any doro-yu faux pas, proudly informed me that she had been coming to Koodei at least twice a week for decades. Her skin certainly backed-up her claim — it looked at least 20 years younger.

Indeed, Beppu's onsen minerals are purported to have a whole range of miraculous qualities. In the quaint Myoban Onsen area, minerals are "harvested" from the springs in picturesque thatched straw huts, using techniques dating from the Edo period.

The minerals they collect are known as Yu no Hana (flowers of the hot springs) and are sold as bath salts, apparently curing all manner of ills from skin diseases, nappy rash, athletes' foot, rheumatism and nerve pain, while at the same time staining your bath tub. It's big business in Myoban and it isn't cheap.

But, this pretty town does have some free local attractions. The humble Jizo Sen and Kakuju Sen are two free public onsen either side of the main tourist drag. You can spot them by the miniature shrines on the outside and bother are open from 7am to 8pm.

It's true there aren't many bargains to be had in Beppu, but the Youth Hostel is the most attractive budget accommodation option — it has wide tatami rooms, internet access and, of course, its own onsen. Not far from the hostel is Beppu's other major bargain — Ichinoide Kaikan, a place where you can get a hearty meal — featuring the local specialty Dango Jiru — and use of a fabulous rotenburo in the hills overlooking the city for just 1000yen.

It's a steep walk up, but you'll arrive to a warm welcome and be ushered straight upstairs to the impressive reception room where you can enjoy refreshments before you head for the tub. While you take your time and soak away your cares - gazing over Beppu, with its plumes of hot steam wafting up all over the city — your meal is being prepared. And, when you've finished in the bath, simply make your way back inside and call down on the internal phone — your food will be straight up.

One last piece of "heaven" that visitors to Beppu seem compelled to experience is the sandbath. The Sohnin ga Hama Suna Yu on the seafront certainly makes for some fun snap-shots — rows of people buried up to their necks in sand tombs — but it isn't for the faint hearted (although, to be fair, it tells you that in the entrance — fainting and weak hearts are no-nos here).

Change into your navy yukata in the tiny changing room and head outside. A troop of ladies armed with shovels will get to work burying you, for your 10-15 minute intense sauna. Trying to sweat it out under a weighty, claustrophobic heap of silica, and resist jumping out before the cool Japanese customer next to you does, is sheer hell. Not to mention that horrible tickling sen-sation as beads of sweat roll down your face, that you can do nothing about... Honestly. It certainly isn't anything approaching heaven.

Text & Photos: Kate Crockett