TAZAWAKO (Japan), Nov 22 — We had never heard of the girl before arriving at the lake.
Truth be told, we aren’t even here for the lake. The Tohoku region in north-eastern Japan is famed for its bucolic countryside: mountains and lakes, volcanoes and hot springs. The latter meant the region is popular for its onsen bathhouses and inns, perfect for recuperation.
We are drawn by the promise of regenerative powers of the Oshuku River. The waters of the hot springs here have high minerality, purportedly good for the skin and all manner of ailments.
We get off at the Shizukuishi train station, and then it’s another 15 minutes by road till we reach our ryokan. Along the way, we pass by rustic farmlands and autumnal fields. Bales of hay all stacked up for storage before winter.
Just leaving the city and its buildings, each rising higher than the next, is balm enough. All this feels like extra, a boon.
Soon we arrive at our ryokan, slightly underwhelmed by its concrete exterior. But any dismay is short-lived for the hot spring hotel is surrounded by deep dark forest and the sound of the burbling river.
There is even a small shrine opposite. We stop in front of the honden or main building to ring the bell with the long, braided rope. We bow twice, then clap our hands twice to alert the deity of our humble presence.
Beyond paying respect, immersing ourselves in the rituals of other faiths is one way of deepening our understanding of a culture we admire. It never hurts to take a meditative moment of silence, wherever we can.
Inside the ryokan is more impressive, furnished in the traditional Japanese style with plenty of warm woods. Our room is spacious, the sort you can only find in the countryside far from the tiny capsule hotels of the cities. Tatami floors and futons ensure night time rest the old-fashioned way.
We are looking forward to the bathing facilities, of course. With waters flowing in directly from its own hot spring source, the ryokan offers both indoor and outdoor baths. There is even a soaking tub made from treasured hinoki (cypress wood).
The hotel manager asks us if we’re here to visit the lake. What lake, we wonder?
Surely we have heard of Tazawako and the legend of Tatsuko? No, we haven’t, we answer.
And that’s how we find ourselves, after a good night’s rest and many hours soaking in the onsen, on a day trip to Tazawako or Lake Tazawa. With a depth of 423 metres, it is Japan’s deepest lake though its far-flung locale keeps it off the beaten track for most.
To get to the lake, we first return to Shizukuishi Station with our hotel shuttle. Next it’s half an hour on the train, at least, between Shizukuishi Station and Tazawako Station. Then a 12-minute bus ride from the station to Tazawa-kohan bus stop on the lake’s eastern shore.
Everything takes a bit longer in Tohoku; though profuse with stunning scenery, everything feels just a bit farther away. Perhaps this is why the region is beloved by domestic tourists from other parts of Japan but less familiar to foreign visitors.
That sense of remoteness works in its favour. We rarely hear anyone else speak a word of English or Chinese. It seems ridiculous to even think about it, but we feel as though we are finally in Japan and not a facsimile of it invaded by noisy tour groups led by their flag-waving guides.
When we finally arrive at Tazawako, we were greeted by the sun hitting the rippling surface of the lake: a brilliant cobalt blue, reflecting the cloudless sky. Sparkling like diamonds, as the song goes.
Feudal lords used to admire the azure waters, legend has it, at the Goza-no-Ishi Shrine located at the lake’s northern end. Today it is the vermillion-red torii gate of the shrine, right at the waterfront, that stands centre stage.
There are a few shops here and there, and the requisite sightseeing boats, but most of the lake’s waterfront remains undeveloped, allowing the surrounding mountains to stand out without visual competition.
It’s a lot to take in but once we are here, all we have is time to do exactly that.
No one knows for sure how the lake was formed. Many posit that Tazawako is a volcanic caldera — from the Spanish word caldera meaning “cauldron” — that resulted after an eruption, the magma emptying out to reveal a huge hollow, while others believe meteorite impact created a crater and the subsequent lake.
For some, Tazawako’s origins is more supernatural in nature.
Locals still tell the story of Tatsuko Densetsu or the myth of Tatsuko. Once upon a time, there was a beautiful girl, the way there always is in fairy tales and fables. Wiser than her peers, though perhaps not wise enough, she knew her beauty would not last forever.
So Tatsuko visited a shrine and prayed, night after night, for the secret to eternal youth. Finally the gods (or so she thought) answered. Go north, find the holy spring. Drink its waters. Be reborn.
Fairy tales have an intractable momentum to them. Tatsuko went north, found the holy spring and drank its waters. For her efforts, she was turned into a dragon and now the guardian of a lake — Lake Tazawa.
Was this the prize she was promised? Or was she paying penance for her vanity?
We stand before Tatsuko’s golden statue, the secret of what lies beneath Japan’s deepest lake revealed. She seems melancholic, resigned to her fate, bending forward as though to prepare for her transformation.
What a price to pay for ageless beauty — but as we, and generations of other visitors, are grateful beneficiaries of the splendour of the lake, who are we to quibble?
Getting there
To reach Tazawako (Lake Tazawa) from Tokyo, take a train on the Akita Shinkansen line. The one-way journey from Tokyo Station to Tazawako Station will take approximately 3 hours. From Tazawako Station, there are multiple buses per hour to the Tazawa-kohan bus stop. The bus ride takes about 12 minutes and costs 360 yen (RM13.60) one way.
