SAPPORO, Dec 22 — Christmas is all around us.
That’s the first thought to come to mind as we step outside our hotel in Sapporo. Of course it’s December and all the Christmas sales signs are up, the same way it is just about everywhere else in the world, but it’s more than that.
In most of Japan, it’s still late autumn; the snow hasn’t arrived yet. Hokkaido, the northernmost of the Japanese archipelago’s main islands, however, is a different matter entirely. In Sapporo, its capital, first kōsetsu or snowfall is in November.
The further north we go, from Sapporo to Asahikawa to Wakkanai, the more it snows. So yes, if snow is any measure, then as Billy Mack sang in the Yuletide classic Love, Actually: “Christmas is all around me / And so the feeling grows.” Indeed, it does.
Every town and city in Hokkaido welcomes the advent of snowfall, which gets dramatically heavier come late January, differently.
In Sapporo, folks are busy taking pictures of the first snow. Initially transient due to the warmer environment of the capital, the heat from vehicles and densely packed buildings, every sighting is precious. That is, until some inflection point and the snow looks like it’s here to stay forever: an eternal winter.
Children begin building snowmen, and adults join in the fun too. Rather than the conventional carrot-for-a-nose variety, snow creations here are masterpieces of the imagination – from outlandish, unrecognisable monsters to favourite anime characters brought to life.
There’s almost always a snow Doraemon along every street. (No Nobi Nobita in sight, however; the poor boy is never as popular as his robotic cat.)
To warm up, head to the month-long German Christmas Market at Odori Park. Ending on Christmas Day itself, there is plenty of time still to check out Munich-influenced stalls strewn with festive lights. Expect Santa Claus, steaming mugs of glühwein and the closest you’d get to authentic Bavarian fare in Hokkaido.
Two hours away and even further north, it’s getting icy in Asahikawa. As the coldest city in Japan, with the lowest recorded temperature of −41°C, you can always be assured of an invitingly chilly welcome here.
And that’s a good thing if you fancy seeing snow and ice sculptures by the dozens. Less congested compared to Sapporo, there’s simply more space for gigantic ice structures. It’s also more hazardous as occasional warm spells mean the snow melts and refreezes as ice.
Here pedestrians tend to walk hand-in-hand, leaning towards each other for succour when navigating the icy streets. It’s also a heart-warming gesture, and we happily follow suit, both for safety and for the warmth of each other’s body, as we stroll along the streets of Asahikawa.
The trees have given up all their leaves long ago, their bare branches ghostly against the white landscape. Snow is all around. It’s Christmastime. How grand!
In the canal city of Otaru, about 40 kilometres west of Sapporo, Christmas lights lend an ethereal glow to the evenings. Strands of LED lights form hearts and flowers; silhouettes of lovers kissing are lit by candles.
There are many public performances. As the audience gathers after purchasing their beverages of choice – usually a hot chocolate made with creamy Otaru milk or spiced guryūwain (mulled wine) – some singer will begin belting a jazz number while tinkling the ivories.
It feels like a Parisian piano lounge, but with more snow, of course.
For more solitude, we travel east, over five hours by train, to the port town of Kushiro. This is the land of rare cranes and marsh deer. One could take a walk along Kushiro River, past the town’s iconic Nusamai Bridge, and hardly see another living soul, especially after sunset.
Thick walls of snow guard each bank of the river. It’s a perfect place to contemplate the season and its true meaning. Nearby a playground has been adorned with streamers of light; there is a Christmas tree too. It is quiet and nary a mouse is stirring. Christmas doesn’t have to be cacophonous.
There is just more. More snow, at any rate. Fewer people, or at least it feels that way. Which isn’t a bad thing when you’re escaping the eleventh hour shoppers in malls looking for this season’s must-have toy or outfit.
When there is so much snow and you’re outside, no one’s looking at how you’re dressed. Everyone is the same: all bundled up, desperate to keep warm yet unwilling to leave the chilly, beautiful white landscape just yet.
This feels like a different sort of Christmas. The season doesn’t have to be shopping or nabbing the last table at some fancy restaurant where everyone is eating exactly the same food (set meals are a necessary evil when you’re serving a full house).
In Hokkaido, Christmas can be spent outdoors, with nature, even when you’re still within the urban limits – when everything you can see is blanketed in white. All our childhood dreams of a white Christmas come to life, finally: a winter wonderland filled with snow creatures and snowball fights and, well, more snow.
It’s magical.
