Today we had planned to go to a flower producer. The photos looked amazing, with huge fields of different-coloured flowers. But a Google review from four days ago said they are not out yet for this season, so we skipped the long drive to this potentially disappointing attraction and opted for Ginzan Onsen. I’m glad we did.
After a long drive, we stopped for a quick wee before going to look for a parking space. Only 300m up the road from our comfort break was a sign saying there was no parking allowed in the town, so we should use the park-and-ride. Back to the comfort stop, we bought a bus ticket, safe in the knowledge we wouldn’t have to worry about parking. The bus took us a mere 400m up the road and then the driver looked back at us and said, “Now walk, 5 minutes.”
We paid the tourist tax. It was 1000Y for those bus tickets for little more than a short walk. Whatever. We were here and immediately struck with how small the place is. It’s a street of maybe 15 traditional ryokans with onsen baths on each side of the Ginzan River. Their façades are all charred wood and earthen panels, with screens of slatted wood and paper to close the windows. There are lots of quaint bridges over the river, some with hot water foot baths and others with old Shiba Inu guarding them. Can you tell which one Aimi preferred?
The town was founded here around a silver mine that, unfortunately, is closed. We set off up a trail, water pouring down it, and ducked under a thick tree trunk to reach what we thought was the top of the waterfall and found ourselves completely alone. None of the old biddies on coach trips ventured this far, and so they missed out on a lovely walk beside the river to another smaller (and decidedly sketchy-feeling) mine.
The entrance wooden structure was so rotten it was worrying, but there were metal stairs and no gates shutting it off, so in we went. Definitely built for shorter mine workers than lanky European tourists like me, I had to almost squat to get through some openings. We reached the main vesicle and walked along a reinforced, but significantly rusted, metal walkway that flexed unreassuringly as we passed. The huge cavern was lit up so you could see the domes of rock, carved out by water. We think this was part of the silver mine that is closed further inside.
Completing a short circuit through the hills, we returned to the town and found ourselves a wonderful restaurant. There is a tendency to plaster the outside of shops with laminated pictures of the food and advertising prices, which makes it look incredibly tacky. But inside it was a beautifully simple and well-styled restaurant. The whole wooden structure could be seen, infilled with unpainted earthen plaster and soft, warm lighting from hanging stained glass pendants. We sat at a window bar and enjoyed a great view up and down the river with our food.
Maybe the laminated cards work in the East, but it drags down the initial impression for us. Luckily, the food was exquisite and incredibly well presented. Here is where we discovered what real wasabi tastes like. Aimi was given a knob of it and a rough wooden grater. With some effort, she minced some off the knob for us to try. It absolutely blew our heads off. Aimi overestimated her tolerance and had a powerful encounter. I literally took a tiny bit compared to what I usually have, and it was overwhelmingly intense for about two minutes and then passed. This is what we like about wasabi: it’s “hot” but doesn’t linger like chilli.
After this, we had explored the whole town—it’s only small—so we started the walk back to the car. We didn’t bother with the bus and indeed ended up beating it back to the car to carry on our drive to the next hotel in Matsushima.
This is reportedly one of the three most beautiful landscapes in Japan, and once we arrived in our room, we could see why. Huge windows on the 4th floor gave us an incredible elevated view of the bay and its hundreds of small, oddly eroded islands. It was beautiful, and after dinner and another visit to the public baths (for me), we enjoyed the view with some plum wine while playing Uno.
