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I'm probably going to keep singing the praises of the Lonely Planet guide, since it's helped me find places and see things I otherwise wouldn't have found on my own. I was looking for budget accommodation for my Sapporo trip when I spotted the entry on Spa Safro at the bottom of the list of tightarse places to stay. I simply couldn't resist the chance to stay in a real, honest-to-goodness capsule hotel, one that had separate floors for men and women, and came with an attached natural hot spring to boot!
It's probably due to the publicity in the LP guide that English speakers patronize this establishment, and as a result booking procedures can be done in English, or in my case, really bad Japanese. The map in the book is somewhat inaccurate as to its location though, which resulted in half an hour of wandering around in a panic before a helpful convenience store clerk told me it was down a nearby alley, different from the directions in the book.
When I got there, I was quite surprised to discover that the place looked like a multilevel department store. It quite frankly didn't look like a place that housed a natural hot spring, since I was more expecting a low set building on a large plot of land dotted with pools of steaming water. Walking into the place, you get the feeling that this is like some classy day spa, which it in fact is. Safro offers the basic onsen package with all the services you'd expect, including all the bathrobes, towels and toiletries you could use, and 40 degree baths you can soak in for as long as you like, both indoors and outdoors, 23 hours a day (they use an hour every day for general cleanup and restocking). Next to these baths are bubbling pools with added bath salts to ease away muscular tension and pain. Wet and dry saunas are also free for patrons to use, as well as a four unit jacuzzi and massage area (extra charge for the masseuse). It was so nice that I took two baths on the Saturday. ^^ I would have liked to take photos, but the steam in the place makes that kind of hard and besides, I didn't want to get kicked out onto the cold streets of Susukino overnight. I did get pics of the dressing room and the cool down area when no one was looking though.
Upstairs from the hot spring were rooms for individual massage (Thai, Swedish, aromatherapy and reflexology), a rest area with reclining chairs where you could have a nice nap after your bath, a 24 hour food service counter and dry rock spa that claims to be therapeutic for blood pressure, migraine, diabetes and such. Frankly I don't believe that lying on hot stone tiles can give you anything more than low temperature burns, but I did see a few ladies go in with towels and bathrobes. I'll stick with the hot spring, thanks.
The thing about a public bath is that you have to leave your modesty at the door. No one in Japan minds since they do the hot spring and public bath thing all the time, but for someone who's not local, seeing droopy, wrinkly old ladies in the bath can take some getting used to. I shouldn't poke fun at them though, since gravity eventually claims all things and I'm going to end up looking like that someday. *weep*
The capsule hotel area of the place is located downstairs of the hot spring and consists of up to 40 capsules stacked together, about 12 units to a room. Each capsule was surprisingly roomy, fitted with lights, alarm clock, radio and even a television, and came with a warm blanket and a surprisingly supportive pillow filled with what felt like beans.
The bed inside the capsule could have been softer though, and because you only get a roller blind for privacy, any particularly noisy guests will keep you from getting a good night's sleep, like the ones who were staying two out of the three nights I was there. Damn tourists. Well, there's always the bath.
On the whole, this is one place I could stay at again on my summer trip. The rates would probably be lower then too, because they inflated their prices for the Snow Festival. Must refrain from packing bulky bags for the trip though, since the lockers provided are not designed for long term boarders and are a little on the narrow side. Other than that, two thumbs up!
Hokkaido boasts some of the harshest weather in Japan, but it's probably due to this that the local produce is some of the best I've ever tasted. Hokkaido is renowned for kombu (kelp), crab and other exotic seafood, but is perhaps best known for its virtual monopoly on the nation's dairy industry. I reckon it's probably because the cows have to put on extra fat to deal with the cold, so it rubs off on their milk as well. It's probably the richness of the milk that allows producers to market dairy goods from Hokkaido at a premium in supermarkets. It's well worth it, though.
Not too long ago, The Ishiya Chocolate Factory had a run of bad press because it falsified expiry dates on its immensely popular Shiroi Koibito white chocolate sandwich cookies. It has since bounced back spectacularly from the incident, following a rash of resignations from top staff and complete transparency in its efforts to clean up its operations. So popular are its langue du chat cookies that stores have signs on the ready to tell customers they've run out for the day. O.o
The other cookie in the pic is from a rival confectionary, Kitakaro, which makes a similar chocolate sandwich but with a different base, much like the wafers that are traditionally served with American sundaes. Both cookies have their merits; the Shiroi Koibito ones appealing to those who like their cookies on the soft and delicate side, while those who like intense chocolate flavours and crispier cookies will probably prefer the Hamanasu no Koi ones from Kitakaro. Personally, I tend towards the latter, since the chocolate filling seems to taste better. Kitakaro also makes baum kuchen, a tyre shaped sponge cake made up of many thin layers of batter repeatedly baked on a three-foot long pole and cut up into sections. Couldn't figure out how they were made until I saw it in the shop. ^^
Winter is crab season in Hokkaido, and I couldn't pass up a chance to try some when I saw stalls selling grilled local crabs at the snow festival. Slightly pricey at ¥900 for a couple of legs and a claw, but the guys were really nice and even supplied a pair of scissors to aid in extracting the tasty meat.
It was a bit drier than I expected, but the flavour was really intense, even in the legs. I'm accustomed to eating mud crabs back in Singapore, where the meat in the claw is abundant and succulent, but the stuff I had in Sapporo really beats it in taste. I also happened on scallops grilled in their shells over a charcoal fire with a bit of soy sauce, but had no room after eating a bunch of other stuff just before. I somewhat regret not making the effort to indulge in more seafood while I was there, since there was just so much on offer. Advertising for the stuff might need a bit of a brush up though, as can be seen in this little bit of hilarity. Click on the picture for a bigger version.
It's this epidemic of corporate downsizing, I tells ya!
One of the major culinary specialties of Sapporo is ramen. The Susukino district in the city is like a virtual Chinatown, dotted with ramen joints offering bowls of steaming noodle soup, often made to closely guarded secret recipes. I stepped into a random looking place and ordered their tonkotsu shoyu ramen, and was treated to smooth, firm noodles in a rich and fortifying broth. Aw, yum.
Chinese food in Sapporo doesn't stop at noodles though. I also visited a shop that specializes in gyoza, both fried and boiled. Imported frozen gyoza have been the subject of a massive product recall after several food poisoning cases in Japan, but I reckoned that since this shop makes them on site, they'd be right. I ordered both the suigyoza (boiled) and chanchangyoza (fried - think Lego gyoza), served with miso or soy and toasted Japanese mixed pepper, and decided that I'm firmly in the fried camp as far as dumplings are concerned.
Nothing beats home made stuff though.
Someone recommended that I try the sea urchin rice while I was Otaru. I'm not usually a big fan of sea urchin since the stuff I've tried reeked of eye-watering ammonia, but I was assured that the sea urchin in Otaru was totally different. Being the scaredy cat I am, I found a conveyor belt sushi place that served a combination of sea urchin, salmon roe and skillfully sliced squid, which they called the Yume-don (Dream Bowl), just in case the sea urchin was too strong on its own.
It was really like a dream, I tell you what. I had expected a noseful, but there was no hint of ammonia at all, just a silky, pleasantly fishy sweetness. The strongly flavoured salmon roe (one of my favourites) and the mild but juicy squid made for a refreshingly varied lunch, plus I was allowed to keep the pair of chopsticks in the picture as a souvenir of my visit. Guess they're really starting to take the eco-revolution seriously in this country. Bring your own chopsticks to a restaurant and save some trees!
I reckon I've only just scratched the surface of all the good food you can get in Hokkaido. If I ever visit again (and I'm pretty sure of it), I'll have to try all that summer food, including the famous Yubari melon (yes, as in Gogo Yubari from Kill Bill), and lavender flavoured soft serve. I can't wait. :P
Thanks to the Lonely Planet guide, I was clued in on a seaside town called Otaru, a 45 minute train ride from the city and a convenient day trip away from urban madness. From what I read of the history of the place, it used to be a herring port, but is more well known nowadays as a centre for glass craftsmanship and tourism. I was convinced once I read in the book that there were places there I could try making a few glass items of my own. I'm such a sucker for these things ^^;
The train ride took me west of Sapporo, out into the less densely populated regions, mostly industrial, peppered with residential areas, the occasional shopping mall and the Sea of Okhotsk. Along the way it occurred to me how it must look in places like Scandinavia or Canada, where the snow seems to stretch on forever, and where the houses look all the more warm and comfortable trimmed with sparkling icicles.
After a 10-minute walk northeast of the station (it took that long because I needed to be really careful on the snowy sidewalks), I reached the Otaru Canal. Possibly the most distinctive part of the town, the canal stretches the length of the town's coast and is dotted with the town's signature lamp posts. I'm told it's quite a romantic place to walk though in the evenings. A picture in the JET calendar I got sent also depicted large, cylinder shaped ice lanterns, lit up from within, lining the edge of the canal, which I thought was rather charming. I now realize the power of SLR cameras though, because the lanterns turned out to be the size of a kids' sand bucket. XD
The surface of the water is actually frozen; the crowds on the sidewalk were pitching snowballs at it.
On the advice of a local guide, I took a look around the parallel street just two blocks south of the canal in search of Otaru's renowned music box museum. The street the museum is on is a bustling hub of tourist traps, with shops selling local knick knacks, fresh and dried produce, confectionery and of course, handmade glass items. Needless to say, my souvenir hunter instincts turned a 10 minute walk into a meandering one hour journey fraught with temptation and financial pitfalls. T_T
When I finally got to the Otaru Orgel Doh (小樽オルゴール堂) at the end of the street, it was rather a little later in the day that I planned, but still, I had the chance to take a look at the history and construction of music boxes through the centuries. There's something very nostalgic and feelgood about music boxes; their sound seems to evoke feelings of calm and well being, which would probably explain why it puts me to sleep so readily. The museum houses several working music boxes of both the cylinder and disc variety, varying in size from the familiar jewellery box and watch movement types to full on tabletop models the size of a grandfather clock. An interactive console let me listen to Vivaldi's "Four Seasons" and The Beatles' "Yesterday" among others, which naturally convinced me to buy a music box for myself. I'm so easily led. *sigh*
The main floor of the museum is also a massive shop selling music boxes in a plethora (wow, obscure word!) of shapes and sizes. There were keychain versions, traditional jewellery box versions in European and Japanese designs, as well as wall mountable versions in string operated and key operated styles. The store also has a section where customers can create their own custom music boxes, with over 250 classical, folk and pop tunes to choose from, as well as a range of cases or platforms to house the mechanisms in. Some tunes are more popular than others, and due to the large number of tourists from Hongkong and Malaysia (or Singapore) that day, they ran out of Pachelbel's "Canon in D" by midday. Boo. I found a nice, somewhat tacky looking laser etched glass globe that played the tune though, so I'm good. Add to that a CD of Chage & Aska tunes played in the music box style (nostalgia!), and I was quite a happy camper.
I mentioned above that glass blowing is a local specialty, and that the LP guide singles out places where visitors can make their own items. One of these is K's Blowing, located on the same street as the music box museum, which lets you create your own blown glassware for a not-so-small fee, inclusive of local and international delivery charges if you need it. Artisans are on hand to assist you in shaping and handling the molten glass, and will supply instructions in rudimentary English for foreign tourists.
I opted for a curvy, tactile looking mug with multicoloured accents and the winter exclusive "yuki akari" design, which is supposed to resemble snowflakes. I would have liked the spring design, in which pink, white and green glass is used to suggest cherry blossoms, but sadly, it was still winter. I had lots of fun making it anyway, though the process is actually a lot harder than it looks to arrive at a perfectly symmetrical end product. One thing the LP guide didn't mention though; since the mug is a rather large item, it takes about 24 hours to cool down from the furnace, so you can't actually take the mug home with you on the day you make it, hence the delivery service. Good thing the local couriers are an efficient lot, so you'll receive your item in the mail on the second business day after your visit. International deliveries are done by EMS, which is excellent for speedy delivery but a little hard on the wallet.
And here's my mug, along with a few other glass items I picked up on the way. I made the swirly green glass bead on the leather choker at Yuzu Koubou (ゆず工房), located behind the Otaru Canal Craft Hall due northeast of Otaru station just before the canal. Nice place, with nice people. In the upper right corner is a pair of Hina dolls in glass, the prince on the left (wisteria detail) and the princess on the right (plum blossom detail), just in time for Girl's Day on the 3rd of March. I really appreciate the minimalist design and the clever use of refraction in the floral prints of their kimonos. The lady in the shop gave me the cherry blossom print chopstick rest as a freebie ("Shhh!" she told me, so don't go telling anybody XD) because I also bought the pair of yuzu (Japanese citrus) earrings. The mobile phone dangly was from the Otaru Museum and is quite intricate, so here's a closeup:
Evening is when the Otaru Canal is at it's best. The ice lanterns are lit, and hundreds of glass candleholders are strung across the surface of the water. The local Korean association used the snow on the sidewalk to make lighted snow sculptures that weekend, which added to the atmosphere. The flickering candlelight and the soft glow from the lamp posts do make for a romantic stroll along the canal at dusk, however the surging hordes of tourists kind of spoil it a bit. ^^;;
It was with much reluctance that I headed back to Sapporo at the end of the day. Otaru really is my cup of tea, what with the souvenirs and handicrafts. I might consider a trip back up north in the summer to get away from the heat, so this little ex-fishing town might just be on my list again. You can never have enough glassware or music boxes, you know. ^^
