Re: Japan and Bali
<div class="ubbcode-block"><div class="ubbcode-header">Originally Posted By: Jazz</div><div class="ubbcode-body">FAntastic report Lapassionata
and I love your writing style.
I truly am enjoying the report
</div></div>
Thanks Jazz
I'm in danger of walking around with a permagrin because of all the lovely comments.
<div class="ubbcode-block"><div class="ubbcode-header">Originally Posted By: Jazz</div><div class="ubbcode-body">FAntastic report Lapassionata
and I love your writing style.I truly am enjoying the report
</div></div>Thanks Jazz
I'm in danger of walking around with a permagrin because of all the lovely comments.













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Japan is a chain of volcanic islands, and where there is heat and water, there are geysers and hot springs. You can find these onsens all over the country and in any environment you can think of: urban, rural, on top of mountains, by the sea shore, in the forest etc etc. Monogatori was reputed (again by my bible, Lonely Planet) to be the best urban onsen in Tokyo. It pipes its hot water in from deep below Tokyo Bay, and apparently has many differnent types of tubs, both indoor and out, along with attached spa and massage services. (There is an etiquette to onsen bathing that I will touch on later when I describe my onsen experience.) It sounded lovely when I read about it, but it was now late afternoon, and I knew I would have to rush the experience. So, a bit regretfully, I headed instead to Asakusa to look for the Edo-Shibayachi museum. This was one of the few times that my naviational skills failed me. For the life of me I could NOT find this museum. And forget stopping to ask directions. The six japanese phrases/words that I did know rather well did NOT include, right, left, straight or turn. So I gave up after 45 minutes of wandering, and just decided to wander some more for another hour and half before going to Tokyo Towers for more night time views of Tokyo. I was eventually tempted into a restaurant by the promise of sweet potato ice cream and yummy udon noodles.
















My Lonely Planet recommendations were all booked up. I was about to give up and maybe consider Fukuoka, when M-chan and her dad miraculously found us rooms at a ryokan in Hakone that had its own onsen.
. Everything else was delicious, though, and they even did a great veggie lasagna. 
I was excited because that meant our ryokan’s onsen was probably piping in this hot spring water for their bath, rather than using artificially heated water. The ryokan itself was a bit disappointing: the rooms were small and cramped, the service was spotty and the television was possessed. The onsen in the basement was clean enough—and I say this because I understand that where there is warm water, there will always be mold. I didn’t truly mind, but M-chan was horrified on my behalf.
There is just something about a hot bath that makes you want to sleep for days afterward. But before we bedded down for the night we took a little walk around the neighbourhood, looking in at other hotels and ryokans. It was very dark, and very quiet, and just a little creepy. The air was soooo fresh, I thought I would get oxygen-poisoning. I wanted to wander even farther afield, but my thoughts and my feet were dragging, so we headed back to the inn. M-chan watched a little TV, but as soon as my head hit the pillow, I was done for the night.








Oh. Em. Geeeeee. Mi seh! It was a latrine, and the accumlated urine of hundreds of thousands of visitors year after year had caused this incredible build up of ammonia. It was not renk, it was TOXIC. I could not BREATHE. Literally. Could. Not. Breathe. And it was a squat toilet to make it worse, so I had to crouch closer to that hole. Oh Lord. My eyes were watering, I was coughing, the scent got into my throat and WOULD not be dislodged.
Wow. I couldn't help thinking about the canary in the mine. The need SOME kind of sensor in those restrooms, because one day some unsuspecting tourist is going to pass out and fall into that toilet. The only blessing is that the hole into the pit is too small to fit most North Americans 






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