Winter warmth in Okayama

Nestled within peaceful mountains of Okayama, Takebe International Villa offers more than just time out. KS catches a glimpse of simple, yet satisfying Japanese life, and discovers a retreat from the madding crowds.

Snow crunched underfoot as I approached the 'Women Only' sign on the door. A white blanket had formed to completely cover the meticulously manicured gardens, while bare, scrawny trees stood proud, their branches outstretched to support clumps of snow-flakes. Almost as if dusted with icing sugar, elegant Bonsai trees dotted the scene. Everything looked cold, clean and new. I slid open the door. Soft sulphuric steam danced around my nose and I listened to the muffled chatter of women enjoying one of Japan's most attractive ancient traditions — the onsen.

Not much goes on at the Takebe International Villa apart from the hot springs. But that's why people come here — to escape the frenetic pace of life in any of Japan's major cities. Located between Hiroshima and Kyoto in the rich natural setting of central Okayama, the Villa is designed by local architect Osamu Ishiyama. His innovative wooden building is a unique marriage of modern Western aesthetics with traditional Japanese influences. It makes a stark contrast to its surrounds and stands bold on the sandy banks of the Asahi River with low-lying snow-capped mountains rising in all directions.

The establishment is just one of five villas maintained by the Okayama Prefectural Government. Formed in 1988, the International Villa Group attempted to attract foreign tourists to the beauty of rural Japan by providing affordable accommodation in more remote areas of Okayama.

For travelers on limited budgets, these intimate countryside inns are an ideal break from the hustle and bustle of urban tourist centres. They offer wide open spaces, fresh air, solitude and a rare insight into traditional Japanese life. In the dead of winter, however, Takebe, known as the town of fishing, cherry blossoms and hot springs, felt more like a ghost town — solitude indeed. Heavy snow clouds hung in the air on our arrival, blocking the late afternoon sun. Narrow streets were deserted and the cherry trees were bare. A small, antique looking two-carriage train crept across the sturdy bridge as if it was arriving directly from the set of Hayao Miyazaki's Spirited Away. For a fleeting moment it felt as though we had stepped into a fantastical Japanese dream land.

The modern, Western-style accommodation may seem out of place, but the Villa is designed to offer a 'home-away-from-home', where a big group of friends or family can cook up a storm and settle in for a night of board games and charades. On this occasion however, we were the only two guests and lacked the foresight to come prepared with our own groceries.

Lucky for us, the reception area doubled as a farmer's market and locally produced items lined the entrance. And, from the sound of drunken men, laughter and karaoke echoing through paper-thin walls, there was certainly sake available. Big wooden crates overflowed with persimmon and bananas, rice, peanuts, sweet potato, cabbage, eggs, tomatoes, dried fish and bread. Vending machines stood against the opposite wall stocked with milk, ice-cream, tea, coffee, hot chocolate and an entire fridge of Takebe's own locally produced yoghurt. Unlike many of the artificially sweetened and runny vari-eties found in Japanese supermarkets, Takebe yoghurt is thick and naturally creamy with a slightly sour tang as it melts in your mouth.

We managed to translate two words on a basic plastic menu stuck to the wall: chicken and egg. After following the shuffling footsteps of our kind host, we were shown to a private tatami room where our shoes were repla-ced by slippers and green tea was poured in silence. On the low wooden table lay two bowls of piping hot rice, one topped with chicken, the other with egg. Two cups of steaming miso accompanied the dish, and a delicate array of pickles added colour to the otherwise simple meal. It was plain, perfectly filling and only ¥500 each. Through the windows I could see steam rising from the bathhouse and with our bellies full, there was only one thing left to do. I grabbed a tub of yoghurt and set out the door.

The bathhouse at Takebe is a stunningly earthy, wooden structure with minimalist design aesthetics creating a sense that the building is centuries old. Floor to ceiling windows reveal a magnificent expanse of river outside and allow natural light to pour in over the shallow pools. There are five or so baths of various sizes and one outdoor bath nestled just above the riverbank in a rocky enclave. I performed the all important bathing ritual of washing, scrubbing, rubbing, and cleaning before I could sink my tired body in for the best bit — soaking.

As my eyes adjusted to the dim morning light, I began to make out other women in the bathhouse. A slight young mother cradled her year old baby in the cooler pool, her bare breasts silhouetted against the dull glow of the lamp. Two squat-shaped middle aged women gossiped through the thick, wet steam. An elderly woman, frail and hunched, climbed in next to me, her body disappearing below the bubbles. 'Ohayo gozaimas,' she mur- mured. Her eyes crinkled and smiled as she acknowledged the presence of a foreigner. 'Ohayo gozaimas,' I replied, bowing my head respectfully in her direction.

Not much happens at the villa, but boring it most certainly is not.

Text: Kym Hutcheon • Images: KS