An innocent Skype conversation in a hotel in Ticino can sometimes lead to you boarding a plane to Hokkaido with two Salzburg buddies ten days later. This conversation was about the question of where in the world you could reliably find the best snow in mid-January. Due to the "lake effect", Siberian air masses, the Japanese sea and mountains, the north of Japan was quickly identified as the destination. Especially as there was hardly any other powder competition to be seen on the weather maps worldwide.
After booking, however, the Western Alps began to dress up and before I actually got on the plane, I had a short trip to Valais, which was only partially crowned with powder dreams, as the snow line was mostly too high and our flight was exactly on the first really good day in the Alps. C'est la vie, as the people of western Valais would say. Nevertheless, it was nice to meet up with old friends and ski some good snow on the Monday before departure.
The joys of travel
At 19:50 on a Tuesday in January on the long-distance bus to Munich, another episode in the book "The award journeys of L” [Die merkwürdigen Reisen des L"] began with the chapter “You want to go to Japan? - to Ski?” ["Du willst nach Japan? - zum Skifahren?"]. It is interesting that the same comment on the subject came from completely different people, my parents, friends from the climbing gym and the slightly irritated security man at Munich airport. Apparently, only an illustrious circle of like-minded deep snow fanatics can appreciate the idea of setting off for a handful of powder in a completely foreign culture on the other side of the world. I wish I'd taken a pottery course on my sabbatical year. One night at the airport and two emergency cappuccinos later, the other two thirds of the three foreign legionnaires arrived and the trip could begin. After changing planes several times and eight time zones later, there was another brief moment of holding my breath when the Japanese security in Nagoya refused to be convinced that the 20mg of explosives in the handle of my ABS backpack were absolutely necessary and that the thing would otherwise just be a very expensive and very heavy backpack. All the waving of the IATA flight regulations did not help due to an almost insurmountable language barrier. It's ok!?- NO POWDER! (He did not realize the irony of his words)- It's OK!!! NO POWDER!!! The dialog quickly became monotonous and, from my point of view, frustrating. As a tip to all terror- uh tourists who want to take avalanche backpacks with them: It helps if your boarding is actually already over and then a lady from the departure gate takes you through the control and also says "It's OK". Amusingly, it was no problem on the way back, as someone here spoke English.
Onsen and sushi
Japan itself is a truly fascinating country. The bathing culture, the food and the way people interact with each other are really something special. Skiing on an active volcano is just the cherry on the cake of this intoxicating cocktail of impressions. And if it's also a waist-deep powder cherry on the cake, that's not bad either. After arriving in Asahidake in our rental car, a constant source of joy due to its horsepower and completely erratic automatic transmission characteristics, we had our first mostly positive surprises about Japan. The food is simply unbelievably good and really authentic, even in youth hostels, because even though there are lots of Western tourists there, there are only chopsticks and always fish for breakfast. The onsen are not only a cornerstone of Japanese culture, but an invention that should also be introduced throughout the Alps, because lying down in hot volcanic water after a day's skiing not only sounds fantastic, but also helps to relax the muscles and boosts the mood. Thanks to Japanese politeness, we didn't find out whether taking beer cans with you is a serious socio-cultural faux pas. And if you have too much of this hot water anyway, you don't just pour it into the bathing pools, but also simply let it run over the parking lot so you don't have to shovel snow. Clever geothermal energy for advanced users!
The second tour stop was the Tokachidake touring area, which not only gave us the best onsen with rust-brown original volcanic water, an unbeatable view of impressive mountains to ride, but also finally a real sunny day. All the snow in Hokkaido has to come from somewhere and that usually means clouds and snowfall. Sometimes for weeks. There, however, we climbed up in the sunshine to nice lines in the finest snow. Ski touring doesn't get much better than this. Dinner at this modest mountain hotel was almost surreal. A selection of exquisite delicacies is considered a normal dinner there. For a price that you wouldn't even get dinner for here, you get an overnight stay, hot springs and half board from another planet.
Japanese culture was not neglected either, as people sleep on futons on the floor and go to the onsen in a kimono, Westerner or not. We were driven out of this paradise the next day by the onset of a hurricane, which drove us along like the proverbial leaves for the next two days. First we were literally blown down by the Furanodake and broke off our tour after 30 minutes, then we drifted, less literally, to Tomamu. Always on the lookout for fresh snow and places sheltered from the wind.
Nightlife in Sapporo
After this dry spell, we finally headed for the city of Sapporo to explore the snowiest corner of western Hokkaido. Glittering skyscraper facades and meter-high snow walls. Anyone who thinks this is incompatible will be proven wrong. The **** hotel in the center was cheap, the food on the evening exploration walk expensive, but it was worth it and as a reward I was able to enjoy the best sushi of my life. The nightlife district offered everything the Japanese heart desires. From girls in bunny costumes, who apparently only seem to serve drinks, on the first floor to eight-storey tower blocks with posters of service providers in the foyer, there seemed to be every conceivable level of stress relief for the Japanese businessman, but even normal clubs and pubs were always spread over 5-10 floors and not on the first floor like here. So we ended up in a real Japanese punk bar, the "Swindle". A place that had about 12 (yes twelve!) square meters and 5 seats on the fifth floor. A strange experience. But at least I'm now one experience and a 4 track EP from the owner richer. "The Blag", his band, play good old '77 punk from the Ramones school and sing in Japanese. Presumably against the system.
A highlight at the end
If the trip hadn't been worth it up to this point because of all the impressions alone, the last three days alone would have been enough to send you into blissful powder nirvana, because first we got waist-deep powder snow at its finest. And right from the lift station. As if that wasn't enough, we received an invitation via social media to join a short tour on the last day, as an Austrian in Niseko wanted to go up the mountain anyway. Although it was about 1 ½ hours in the opposite direction to the airport, the decision was made after a few seconds. A really steep mountain flank with perfect snow winked at us teasingly from Facebook. A real line and not just powder. So something special. Because as famous as Hokkaido is for powder, it's not known for real lines, as the mountains usually lack the steepness and wildness of the Alps.
And what can I say, the trip ended with its highlight. First a short lap in the sunny Japanese fairytale forest as we know it from professional ski videos and then, as the very last descent of the last day, a brilliant 600-metre full-throttle line. Domo Arigato Hokkaido!
