Although crispy tinges of winter air passed, the sun warmed a Sunday the way it should. It was bright and cheery when we arrived in Kinosaki. A breath of fresh air urged me to the onsen, to feel as relaxed as the quaint town around me.
Known for crab, Kinosaki boasts boatfuls of fresh crustacean on a daily basis. Often, it is the best culinary souvenir from this quiet north Hyogo town.
Lush mountain ridges encapsulate the small seaside village, and it is as peaceful from the top of the ropeway as it is around town. Light pockets of scattered sun spots made it easy to enjoy the surroundings. A steam strolled through the streets as leisurely as our nonchalance.
Making onsen tamago was easy. We just bought a mesh sack of raw eggs and put them in onsen water for about 10minutes. After, we clipped the top of the egg and enjoyed the deliciously half-cooked egg straight from the shell.
It could be the rose-colored glasses I've been looking through these days, or the fact it was my twenty-fifth birthday, or just a growing affinity for a culture that once seemed callously unknown; but, Kinosaki seemed a destination of uncharted happiness. It was a haven of relaxation, but in a quaint way. Ryokans lined the narrow streets following a shallow river with adorably small bridges. Old English lamp posts like the one you would imagine in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe marked every few feet with even more charm. And the peacefulness of absolute tranquility was the purpose of this town's existence--at least for me.
Actually eating the crab was much better than taking photos of it in the street. Yakiniku and crab nabe were in order for the feast of champions after realizing that was the only option for the evening. I guess closing shops and restaurants at 7pm was natural for a cozy town such as Kinosaki. Everyone was lounging like sedated frogs by the hot onsen pools or privately in their ryokan.
Before the train ride home, a foul-tempered foot bath attempted to warm our feet as the rest of us was drenched with a heavy rain and wind. I held on to the sunlit Sunday the day prior and remembered how beautiful that day would always seem--as a memento of perfection in the simplest of ways.
But, the weather was no mention because the company was so great. That's what I'll truly remember.
Although crispy tinges of winter air passed, the sun warmed a Sunday the way it should. It was bright and cheery when we arrived in Kinosaki. A breath of fresh air urged me to the onsen, to feel as relaxed as the quaint town around me. 
Known for crab, Kinosaki boasts boatfuls of fresh crustacean on a daily basis. Often, it is the best culinary souvenir from this quiet north Hyogo town. 
Lush mountain ridges encapsulate the small seaside village, and it is as peaceful from the top of the ropeway as it is around town. Light pockets of scattered sun spots made it easy to enjoy the surroundings. A steam strolled through the streets as leisurely as our nonchalance. 
Making onsen tamago was easy. We just bought a mesh sack of raw eggs and put them in onsen water for about 10minutes. After, we clipped the top of the egg and enjoyed the deliciously half-cooked egg straight from the shell. 
It could be the rose-colored glasses I've been looking through these days, or the fact it was my twenty-fifth birthday, or just a growing affinity for a culture that once seemed callously unknown; but, Kinosaki seemed a destination of uncharted happiness. It was a haven of relaxation, but in a quaint way. Ryokans lined the narrow streets following a shallow river with adorably small bridges. Old English lamp posts like the one you would imagine in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe marked every few feet with even more charm. And the peacefulness of absolute tranquility was the purpose of this town's existence--at least for me. 
Actually eating the crab was much better than taking photos of it in the street. Yakiniku and crab nabe were in order for the feast of champions after realizing that was the only option for the evening. I guess closing shops and restaurants at 7pm was natural for a cozy town such as Kinosaki. Everyone was lounging like sedated frogs by the hot onsen pools or privately in their ryokan.
Before the train ride home, a foul-tempered foot bath attempted to warm our feet as the rest of us was drenched with a heavy rain and wind. I held on to the sunlit Sunday the day prior and remembered how beautiful that day would always seem--as a memento of perfection in the simplest of ways.
But, the weather was no mention because the company was so great. That's what I'll truly remember. 
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment