BBC：莉莉·克羅斯利-巴克斯特Lily Crossley-Baxter（2019年11月3日）

1000多年來(lái)，天然溫泉一直是日本人生活中必不可少的一部分，日本人認(rèn)為它可以凈化身體和靈魂。在日本，有超過3000個(gè)溫泉可供選擇。這些溫泉富含礦物質(zhì)，直接來(lái)自地?zé)崛簫u下25000個(gè)活泉。而浴室則為個(gè)人提供了一個(gè)冥想反思的好地方，它也是個(gè)社交的好場(chǎng)所——家人、朋友、鄰居，一起脫掉衣服，走入蒸騰的泉水中。從城市中的溫泉到海邊的洞穴溫泉，日本每一種溫泉都有其獨(dú)特的魅力，但有一個(gè)溫泉非常與眾不同。

有日本最偏遠(yuǎn)溫泉的“高天原”（Takamagahara）需要兩天時(shí)間才能到達(dá)——對(duì)于泡溫泉的骨灰級(jí)玩家來(lái)說(shuō)，這是一次真正的朝圣之旅。為了要浸泡在中部山岳國(guó)家公園的溫泉水中，你需要徒步40公里，穿過森林和河流、爬上陡峭的斜坡，在一個(gè)個(gè)孤立的山上小屋過夜。這不是一條為初學(xué)者設(shè)計(jì)的步道，而是一次真正的探險(xiǎn)，需要身體的耐力以及理解變化無(wú)常的山地氣候。

而你的獎(jiǎng)賞就在巖石山谷深處的一個(gè)不大的浴池里。雖然每個(gè)溫泉的風(fēng)景、礦物質(zhì)和設(shè)計(jì)都是不同的，但它們都同樣與大自然有著無(wú)形的聯(lián)系。在如今高度城市化的生活之外，戶外溫泉是最受歡迎的——這并不令人驚訝，沐浴者躺在富含礦物質(zhì)的泉水之中，可以瞥見繁星滿天的夜空和吹著涼爽的微風(fēng)。遠(yuǎn)離都市文明，被高山樹木環(huán)繞，伴著流水的聲音，而“高天原”則是戶外溫泉經(jīng)驗(yàn)的頂點(diǎn)。

雖然四天的往返徒步時(shí)間似乎有點(diǎn)太過了，但這種朝圣傳統(tǒng)可以追溯到幾個(gè)世紀(jì)前——這是一個(gè)絕佳的例子，說(shuō)明了朝圣之旅的過程，就算地位無(wú)法超越目的地，也是與目的地地位相等的。一旦被江戶時(shí)期的朝圣者到訪過，“高天原”附近的群山就被“神化”了，它們會(huì)被視為日本本土神道教中神靈的顯現(xiàn)。

我承認(rèn)自己是個(gè)溫泉愛好者，所以這不是我第一次計(jì)劃在日本泡溫泉，但肯定是最刺激的一次。從我第一次在北海道的冬天泡溫泉開始，我就沉浸在和朋友們一起泡溫泉和放松的時(shí)光里。五年后，夏天的熱氣終于散去，似乎來(lái)到了登山泡溫泉的絕佳時(shí)節(jié)。我深夜乘坐新干線去了富山，那里人煙稀少，與東京繁忙的街區(qū)形成了鮮明的對(duì)比。第二天一早，又坐了兩個(gè)小時(shí)的巴士，來(lái)到了下立村附近的小徑。

幾分鐘后，陡峭的山坡和崎嶇的小路印證了這條朝圣道的可怕名聲。為了跟上我的同伴，我氣喘吁吁但又堅(jiān)定地繼續(xù)前行，穿過狹窄、粗糙的小路。路上有許多日文和英文“你好”的問候，偶爾還會(huì)意外地看到兩個(gè)西方面孔的人，我們并不孤單。

當(dāng)我們登山的時(shí)候，薄霧在山上來(lái)回翻滾，景觀完全被改變了。因?yàn)槲覀兪チ耸謾C(jī)信號(hào)，感覺和世界的最后紐帶消失了。我們?cè)谛逼律系膸r石小徑很快就被用來(lái)保護(hù)高山植物的木板所取代。這些被風(fēng)化的木板構(gòu)成了如畫的風(fēng)景，一直蜿蜒到很遠(yuǎn)的地方，提醒你看著它們。我們開始在草地上看到一道道色彩，那是中部山岳這一季最后的鮮花。

這是山屋（Yamagoya）入冬前的最后一個(gè)周末，每個(gè)月都有直升機(jī)運(yùn)送物資到這些小屋，并由駐屋的工作人員負(fù)責(zé)管理。這些小屋提供簡(jiǎn)單的住宿和烹飪的食物。作為與外界的唯一聯(lián)系，山屋偏遠(yuǎn)山區(qū)的重要網(wǎng)絡(luò)，它們會(huì)根據(jù)天氣提供詳細(xì)的路線建議，并追蹤徒步者確保沒有人失蹤。當(dāng)?shù)竭_(dá)第一個(gè)山屋休息時(shí)，我們停下來(lái)吃了一頓簡(jiǎn)單的尼泊爾咖喱，然后在給我們的瓶子灌滿了新鮮的山泉水。

在經(jīng)過了12公里的徒步旅行后，我們打算住在位于藥師澤的小屋上。屋主向我們保證，經(jīng)過多年的風(fēng)化，這間木屋仍然很堅(jiān)固，他一邊敲著木板，一邊把我們帶到宿舍。里面鋪著榻榻米，毯子疊得整整齊齊，裝修布置得很簡(jiǎn)單，而客人們也在慢慢道來(lái)。我們站在陽(yáng)臺(tái)上眺望黑部川，看著那些不知疲倦的徒步者站在河邊，打開魚竿準(zhǔn)備垂釣。

晚餐時(shí)，酥脆的天婦羅和熱氣騰騰的米飯從一個(gè)大鍋中被端出，再?gòu)囊粋€(gè)客人傳給另一個(gè)客人。我們一起喝著湯和茶，在人們充滿熱情喊著“好味”的聲音中，我們結(jié)束了這頓晚餐。其后，我們又共同舉杯，大喊著“干杯”，在碰杯聲中享受著這共同的盛宴。

公共浴室的樂趣之一是有機(jī)會(huì)與朋友、家人或同事密切聯(lián)系。當(dāng)在一同泡湯時(shí)，沐浴者可以擺脫日本文化中森嚴(yán)的等級(jí)關(guān)系，在溫泉的蒸汽中暢所欲言，這個(gè)概念被稱為“赤裸的關(guān)系”（hadaka no tsukiai）。當(dāng)每個(gè)人都赤身裸體的時(shí)候，每個(gè)人都是平等的。事實(shí)上，溫泉的寧?kù)o氛圍創(chuàng)造了一種微妙的平衡，一種不言而喻的公共規(guī)則。從脫鞋到洗干凈自己，這種禮儀很快就變成了人的第二天性——讓人們從單調(diào)的日常生活中解脫出來(lái)。

第二天早上，我們?cè)谌粘銮熬推鸫擦耍屯械娜艘黄鹑コ运崴嵯滔痰拿纷语?，還有湯和煎蛋。我們向屋主道了謝，然后出發(fā)了。我們?cè)谀景迳习仙?，向熊野平高原走去，也看見了遠(yuǎn)處的山峰。

這條步道上都是崎嶇不平的石路。繞過一個(gè)拐角，我們跌跌撞撞地走進(jìn)了兩個(gè)年老的徒步者中，他們小心翼翼地把手伸進(jìn)了路線兩旁的樹叢里?！八{(lán)莓！”他們指著其中一根樹枝叫道。根據(jù)同行朋友的翻譯，這兩位老人每年都會(huì)來(lái)中部山岳走一走，并且嘲笑我覺得這條步道很難走。他們從10歲就開始攀登這些高峰，并且一起登上過喬戈里峰和珠穆朗瑪峰。他們向我們保證，溫泉不會(huì)讓我們失望的。在和我們分路的時(shí)候，他們祝我們好運(yùn)。

爬上梯子，走過窄窄的橋，我們終于來(lái)到了簡(jiǎn)陋的高天原小屋，看到了溫泉的指示牌。我們放下行李，沿著一條崎嶇的小路走了20分鐘，就到了著名的高天原溫泉，沉浸到了這期待已久的泡湯活動(dòng)中。

濃烈的硫磺味——這是溫泉愛好者無(wú)法回避但又令人愉悅的香氣——是這座隱秘溫泉的第一個(gè)暗示。高天原溫泉兩個(gè)男女分開的水池用簡(jiǎn)單的竹罩保護(hù)著。第三個(gè)混合浴池，這種男女混合的沐浴方式，被稱為Konyoku，直到19世紀(jì)在日本還很常見。但現(xiàn)在只有少數(shù)農(nóng)村的溫泉延續(xù)了這一傳統(tǒng)。當(dāng)我們到達(dá)時(shí)，兩個(gè)赤身裸體的老人已經(jīng)在混合浴池淡藍(lán)色的池水中了。

在路對(duì)面，我看到了女用浴缸的入口，但我還是逗留了一會(huì)兒，想和浴客們聊聊天，其中一位承認(rèn)自己有“溫泉狂熱”。他解釋說(shuō)，他徒步8天從岐阜縣到達(dá)高天原。當(dāng)我們問到他這種決心的來(lái)源時(shí)，他表示自己喜歡戶外溫泉，說(shuō)著指向我們的周圍?！斑€有什么能比這更好呢？”他問道。

當(dāng)我的徒步同伴加入了新認(rèn)識(shí)朋友的行列進(jìn)去沐浴時(shí)，我也來(lái)到了女浴池，發(fā)現(xiàn)了一個(gè)簡(jiǎn)單的石頭砌成的池子，池子邊有一個(gè)露天的更衣室。我獨(dú)自一人，與下面的沐浴者隔絕開了，但可以看到遠(yuǎn)處的樹木和山脈。我走進(jìn)半透明的池子里，欣賞著遠(yuǎn)處的巖石和山峰，數(shù)小時(shí)徒步帶來(lái)的疲勞就消失了。然后，我接著往下沉，讓溫泉水淹沒了我的肩膀。

在踏上這趟旅程之前，我一直認(rèn)為“與自然融為一體”在很大程度上意味著獨(dú)自一人。因?yàn)槲覐膩?lái)沒有去過日本僅存的幾個(gè)男女共浴的浴池，所以從來(lái)沒有真正思考過在男女共浴的溫泉中洗澡。但當(dāng)我在蒸汽中伸展肩膀時(shí)，我想起了日語(yǔ)的短語(yǔ)“kachou fuugetsu”，直譯是“花、鳥、風(fēng)、月”，它代表了體驗(yàn)自然之美和利用這個(gè)機(jī)會(huì)了解自己的重要。

我回想起了我在高天原女性浴池和男女共浴浴池中所經(jīng)歷的無(wú)數(shù)時(shí)刻：我猶猶豫豫地走出了女性專用浴池，看了那條浴巾最后一眼。在水濺聲中，我將腳趾伸進(jìn)了混浴浴池，加入到其他沐浴者之中，在日本的天堂之巔體驗(yàn)公共溫泉之樂。

附加信息：

①動(dòng)漫推薦《溫泉屋小女管家》雙親在事故中去世，因而住到了外婆的溫泉旅館“春之屋”的小學(xué)六年級(jí)女生·小織（關(guān)織子）。她在受到幽靈·小賣和競(jìng)爭(zhēng)對(duì)手·真月的幫助下，為了招待接連光顧而至的奇怪客人們，每天都以“小老板娘”的身份在奮斗著！

②關(guān)于溫泉??的動(dòng)漫評(píng)論

③英語(yǔ)原文：

For more than 1,000 years, natural hot springs – known as onsen – have been an essential part of Japanese life, cleansing both the body and soul. There are more than 3,000 onsen to choose from in Japan. Mineral-rich and sourced directly from the 25,000 thermal springs that bubble beneath the surface of the geothermal archipelago, the baths provide a sanctuary for personal reflection and community, as families, friends and neighbours shed their clothes and step into the steaming waters together. From smart, inner-city spas to ocean-side caves, each of Japan’s onsen offers certain charms – but one is set in a location like no other.

Known as Japan’s most remote onsen, Takamagahara (literally: “the high plains of heaven”) takes two days to reach – a true pilgrimage of dedication for the most extreme bathers. In order to soak in its restorative waters in the Chubu-Sangaku National Park, hikers and onsen-devotees trek 40km through forests and along rivers, clamber up steep inclines and spend nights in a series of isolated mountain huts. This is no beginner’s trail: it is a true expedition, requiring physical endurance as well as a deep understanding of the capricious mountain climate.

The reward lies in a modest cluster of baths set deep in a rocky valley. While the views, minerals and designs are unique to every Japanese onsen, they each share an intangible connection to nature. In today’s increasingly urbanised world, it’s unsurprising that open-air baths, known as rotenburo, are among the most highly sought after, offering a glimpse of a starry night sky and a cooling breeze as bathers recline in the mineral-rich waters. Miles from civilisation, surrounded by alpine trees and serenaded with the sound of rushing water, Takamagahara is the zenith of the rotenburo experience.

While a four-day round-trip hike may seem extreme, Japan’s tradition of pilgrimage stretches back centuries – a perfect example of the journey being equal to, if not transcending, the destination. Once visited by Edo-era pilgrims, the mountains surrounding Takamagahara were deified and seen as manifestations of kami, or spirits of Japan’s indigenous Shinto religion.?

I am a self-confessed onsen lover, and so this was not the first trip I had planned around bathing in a Japanese onsen, but it was certainly the most intense. From my first onsen experience in the depths of Hokkaido’s winter, lost in conversations over the hours spent soaking and relaxing with friends, I was converted on the spot. Five years later, with the summer’s heat finally dissipating, a mountain hike seemed like the perfect introduction to a fresh season of hot spring adventures. Picturing wild, remote mountainsides without many souls in sight – a striking contrast from my busy Tokyo neighbourhood – I took a late-night bullet train to Toyama and set off on a winding two-hour bus journey to the trail head near the small village of Oritate early the following morning.

Within minutes, the steep ascent of root-woven slopes and rocky paths confirmed the trail’s formidable reputation. Trying to keep pace with my hiking partner, I continued, breathless but determined, through narrow, roughly carved trails. Greeted with many a “Konnichiwa!” and the occasional “Hello!” at the unexpected sight of two Westerners, we were by no means alone.

As we climbed, mist rolled over the hills, transforming the landscape entirely as we lost mobile phone signal and felt the final ties of the everyday world fall away. Our rocky path up the slope was soon replaced with wooden planks used to protect the carpet of alpine flora. The weathered boards are an unusual but picturesque sight, snaking along slopes far into the distance, drawing your eyes along with them. We began to spot dashes of colour among the grass, that last of the season’s alpine flowers.

It was one of the last weekends before the mountain huts, known as yamagoya, would close for winter. These huts – which get their supplies helicoptered in each month and are run by live-in staff – enable hikers to forego their weighty camping gear by providing simple sleeping quarters and home-cooked meals. As the only connection to the outside world, the huts are a vital network in the remote mountain ranges, offering detailed forecasts and route recommendations based on weather patterns and tracking hikers to ensure no-one goes missing. As we arrived at our first yamagoya to rest, Tarodaira, we stopped for a simple Nepalese curry and refilled our bottles with fresh mountain water at the spluttering path-side spigot.

The slanting frame of Yakushizawa, our overnight hut, appeared in the distance about a 12km hike later. Warped by years of weathering, the wooden hut was still strong, our host assured us, knocking the wooden panels as he guided us to the shared dorms. Lined with tatami mats and neatly stacked blankets, it was a simple setup and already busy with the night’s guests. As we recovered on the balcony overlooking the Kurobe River, I watched as the apparently inexhaustible hikers unpacked simple fishing rods before setting off along the water’s edge.

At dinner, crisp tempura and steaming bowls of rice doled out from a central pot made their way from guest to guest. Soup from a shared urn and tea completed the meal as enthusiastic calls of “itadakimasu” (“bon appétit”) rang out from the guests around us. As we chatted with our neighbours, elbow to elbow, the cheery calls of “kanpai!” rang out, beers knocking together in the universal ritual of raised glasses and recognised success. Given our final destination, it was a fitting communal feast.

One of the joys of public baths is an opportunity to connect closely with friends, family or colleagues. Soaking side by side, bathers can shrug off the hierarchical ties of Japanese culture and speak openly amid the steam of the hot springs. The concept, known as hadaka no tsukiai, (“naked communion”), removes barriers and forges bonds which would be impossible without the intimacy of the shared bath. When everyone is naked, everyone is even. In fact, an onsen’s tranquil atmosphere hangs on the delicate balance of an unspoken communal code. From the removal of shoes to cleaning oneself at individual washing stations, this etiquette soon becomes second nature – a cleansing escape from the humdrum of everyday life with each stage.

The next morning, we rose before sunrise, joining our fellow hikers for rice topped with salty, sour umeboshi (pickled plums) along with soup and tamagoyaki (omelette). We thanked our hosts and set off. Trekking on wooden planks and hopping across their collapsed counterparts, we steadily made our way towards the plateau of Kumanodaira and its renowned views towards the distant mountain peaks.

The trail continued along rough, stony paths. Rounding a corner, we stumbled into two elderly hikers reaching carefully into the hedges lining the route. “Blueberries!” they exclaimed, pointing to a branch. The friends explained that they hike throughout the Japanese Alps every year, and cackled at my claim that the hike was difficult. They had been climbing these mountains since they were each 10 and said they later summited K2 and Everest together. Assuring us we would enjoy the onsen, they wished us well as our paths separated.

Scaling ladders and negotiating narrow bridges, we finally made it to the humble Takamagahara hut and spotted signs for the onsen. We dropped off our bags and headed down a rocky path 20 minutes towards the famed hot spring, buoyed by the prospect of indulging in our long-awaited soak.

The ripe smell of sulphur – an inescapable but pleasing aroma for onsen enthusiasts – was the first hint of this hidden hot spring. While Takamagahara’s two gender-separated pools are shielded with simple bamboo covers, a third mixed bath lies open to the elements – and the views. This mixed-gender bathing, known as konyoku, was common in Japan up until the 19th Century, but now rural onsen are some of the last to continue this tradition. When we arrived, the pale blue waters of the mixed-bathing pool already held two naked, elderly men.

Just across the way, I spotted the entrance to the women’s bath, but lingered a little to chat with the bathers, including one who admitted to having what he called “onsen-mania”. He explained that he had hiked eight days to reach Takamagahara from Gifu prefecture. When we asked about the source of his impressive determination, he professed his love for rotenburo and gestured at our surroundings. “What could be better than this?” he asked.

As my hiking mate joined our newfound friends, I slipped away to the women’s bath and found a simple rock-lined pool with a wooden stall for changing. I was entirely alone, shielded from the bathers below but with open views of the trees and mountains beyond. I stepped into the translucent pool and the hours of hiking melted away as I admired the rocky peaks in the distance. Then, I sank deeper, allowing the water to cover my shoulders.

Before embarking on this trip, I had thought that being “at one with nature” meant largely being alone in it. And since I had never been to any of Japan’s few remaining konyoku baths, I had never truly considered bathing in a mixed onsen. But as I stretched my shoulders in the steam, I remembered the Japanese phrase “kachou fuugetsu”. While translating literally to “flower, bird, wind, moon”, it represents the importance of experiencing nature’s beauty and using the opportunity to learn about yourself.

As I thought back to the countless moments of hadaka no tsukiai I’d experienced in female-only baths and Japan’s long tradition of mixed bathing, I hesitantly stepped out of the women’s-only pool and took one last look at my towel. With a quick splash from the yellow buckets, I dipped my toes in to join the other bathers and experience the essence of communal onsen bliss atop Japan’s high plains of heaven.