Jigokudani Yaen Kōen

Jigokudani Yaen Kōen, Nagano Prefecture. The Snow Monkeys! Five hours by bullet train from my base in Kyoto. And one of the top two reasons I made this 6,000+ mile trek. OMG, I frickin couldn’t wait to see the snow monkeys.

And, there were no snow monkeys. Not kidding.

I had to laugh. I mean, I was under the impression that gobs of them just stayed within photo range at all times throughout the year for tourists… The nerve! 

But alas, no. This is there natural habitat. They are not captive. It is not a zoo… Lol. I was in complete bliss anyway. The journey to get here involved three train changes (a couple of which were really close calls), a taxi ride, and a walk… followed by a really, really long walk. But what stunning mountain beauty.

The town I stayed in was Japan’s Mayberry equivalent. They rolled up the sidewalks by about 8 pm. With the exception of one tavern—which, of course, I sniffed out—the town was completely silent. More on that later…

After the odyssey that got me to this perfect northern Japanese village, I finally landed in my hotel. A traditional Japanese room with an enclosed, separate foyer/bath area—where you remove your shoes, God help you if you don’t—and a sliding door that opened to a very small room with tatami floors, a very low bed, and an equally low to the ground table and chairs where I’m currently writing this post. Other amenities included a teapot with various teas, a humidifier (every space in Japan has one), and a very large window that looked out onto Mount Azumaya. Breathtaking.

After a great night’s sleep, I was amped to see the snow monkeys. I had a quick, traditional, delicious breakfast and walked over to Nakano Station, where I’d hoped to catch what I thought would be a crowded bus to the area entrance, about 25 minutes away by car (50 by bus on account of all the stops the bus makes along the way). When I arrived at the station, there was not a soul to be found… no bus, no swarm of eager tourists, no one. Perplexed, I hailed the lone cab I spotted after 20 minutes wandering aimlessly, and 3,000 yen later, I was deposited right at the entrance, where you begin the hike up the mountain to the hot springs where the monkeys bask during the day. There was not a soul to be found there, either. Not one. I thought I was either in a parallel universe, in between bus drop-offs or had missed some important memo.

As I started the hike up the mountain, I daydreamed about having the whole snow monkey hot springs area to myself, with endless, unencumbered photo ops. After about a mile of hiking, I approached a dreamy, ancient village-like place, with steam from the hot springs rising up like a mystical fog—and still, no one. I saw one couple taking a selfie at a bridge near a building where you buy tickets to go further when I was approached by a host who told me there were no monkeys out at the moment, and I could skip the entrance fee (800 yen / about $5) and come back another time. I opted to pay it and go forth anyway. What’s the worst that could happen for $5? I’d have the place mostly to myself, and who knows, a macaque (snow monkey) might decide to wander down the mountain. And that’s exactly what happened. Actually a small troop of four showed up.

Since its discovery in 1957, Jigokudani (also known as the Valley of Hell, by the way, due to its impossibly steep mountains and sulfury smelling mist rising up from the springs) has become famous for the macaque troops that inhabit the region and its natural hot springs—one of literally thousands of similiar natural hot spring regions throughout Japan. As I sat near the hot spring, soaking in the sulfur mist, and utter silence, sans the rush of the river below, one macaque appeared almost like a magic trick, very near where I was sitting. By this time, a few hopeful tourists had gathered nearby, but for the most part, I was alone with the macaques. What a sight. Soon two more appeared, and then a fourth.

They never went into the onsen (hot bath) itself, opting to perch around the perimeter, eating whatever tiny morsels were nearby. What a truly magical experience. Other than an occasional glance in my direction, they weren’t the least bit interested in me. At times, I was mere feet from them. I’m so glad I waited it out.

Energized by the experience, my ambition took over, and I decided to walk the 12 km (7.4 miles – not inlcuding the 2-mile trek both ways up and down the mountain) back to the hotel, or at least try. LOL, I know! Google Maps indicated it would be about a 2-hour walk, which I thought was doable, so I did it. Why not. The weather was sunny and cool and the scenery and mountain air only added to the perfect morning.

I made it back! After a deep , well-deserved nap and another great meal, I thought it would be a good idea to wander Japan’s Mayberry after dark for a while. Long story short, after navigating dark alleys and silent streets, I stumbled upon a lifeline: Bistro Kuu. There, I was able to get my patented whisky and a beer (or two), and had surprisingly great conversations with the charming bartenders through my language app.

What a day. This adventure warranted a little longer write-up, a short video (coming soon) followed by a few snaps of the day. Enjoy.