Wakkanai

It is dark and cold when I arrive in Wakkanai. The wind coming off the ocean rips into me, but my jacket keeps me from being totally frozen. I have no reserved lodgings, and can only hope that I can find a hotel room instead of breaking out the sleeping bag. It might rain tonight, or more likely snow, this far north, and I don't have a tent.

The Dormy Inn is ten stories, perhaps the second tallest building in Wakkanai; the other looking much more upscale and therefore, expensive. I really only need a rack and some privacy. The privacy part is probably negotiable.

The Dormy Inn turns out to be a Godsend. For roughly 5,000 yen I got a decent-sized room with a private bath, free internet access, and free admittance to the rooftop onsen. Two hours after checking in, the lower half of me is roasting while the upper half freezes in the outdoor sauna that is designed to look like a natural hot spring. Utterly naked, as is tradition with onsen, I stare out at the lights of Wakkanai, feeling like a king surveying his domain.

In the soft lighting I see snow begin to fall.

As the snow comes down, the wind whips it into vortexes that interact with the steam coming off of the water, creating mini weather systems that are born, live, and die in seconds.

Inside there is an ice bath, dry sauna and another hot pool. When my body gets too hot, I move to the ice bath and try to stay in as long as possible. Moving from hot bath to ice bath to hot bath again produces a kind of euphoric high of adrenaline, endorphins and temperature extremes. This is how men were meant to recreate. My only wish is for companionship and good conversation.

At nearly one in the morning, I stand by the railing, feeling the wind whipping the water off my skin and staring into the patchwork of lights that battle the night. Tomorrow I will be Douglas Wood, living out of a backpack and without a home for four and a half more months.

Tonight – I am King of the North.