Local writer, teacher and coach Tim Edwards discovers that there are many reasons for a Northern Rivers family  to choose a Japanese ski holiday over an Australian one.

I knew when I booked our family holiday that the scenery and mountains at Furano were going to be magnificent, and the fantastic powder snow has an average snowfall of over nine meters. I also thought that it would be great for us as a family to experience exotic food and culture as part of a ski holiday, and on top of all that there was great quality ski rental gear, minimal lift queues, ultra-modern lift system, good prices for accommodation, food and skiing (board/ski rental, lift tickets, ski clothing rental) that are at worst comparable to (and probably cheaper) than our own resorts here in Australia. But all of that aside, the thing that makes a Furano mountain holiday something to treasure forever are the people.

Furano is a rural village in central Hokkaido (the most northerly and by far the wildest and most sparsely populated island in Japan) that supports a local farming community as well as a beautiful ski mountain. The village itself is not particularly pretty but given that it is surrounded by its own drop dead gorgeous ski mountains on one side and nestles near the foot of the amazing Daisetzusan National Park (Japan’s largest and wildest mountain park) on the other side, less than startling architecture is not really a problem.  And if snow is not your thing, in the summer the entire valley is covered in wildflowers, including the commercially grown lavender.  It’s a major summer destination for the Japanese looking to escape the southern humidity.

Summer views of lavender and wildflowers from the Tokachi Peak Mountain Range.

While getting to Furano proved somewhat of a mission, given that it provided us with our first examples of Hokkaido hospitality, friendliness and helpfulness the journey was still deeply satisfying. Our Coolangatta flight took us to Narita Airport (on Honshu) where we connected with a flight to New Chitose Airport in Hokkaido. From New Chitose we took a fast train to Sapporo (the capital of the Hokkaido province) where we connected with a bus that finally brought us to the resort. Given that I had not pre-planned any of these connections my seventeen-year-old son (who incidentally spoke a little Japanese) had been quite worried that journeying would prove difficult in a place where very few people spoke conversational English. Levi didn’t have to worry. The local people demonstrated to us with a great a deal of pointing, gesturing, good grace and sense of humour – as well as a much better grasp of our language than we had of theirs. We were able to find our connections with a minimum of fuss as well as have a lot of fun with our helpers along the way!

The people at the Sapporo Railway Station Tourist Office were a great example of this. The tourist information officer managed to inform us that we needed to catch a Chuo bus from a nearby terminal that would take us to Furano but that we only had ten minutes to find the terminal, buy a ticket and get on board. Before I freaked out the lady had found an elderly volunteer tourist helper who was appointed with the task of getting us to our bus on time. The old man, breaking into a trot, led us back out into the crowded station, through a tunnel, down a corridor, into another tunnel, up some stairs and into a huge underground plaza where thousands of people were rushing purposefully in different directions. He then looked up at a huge glowing instructional sign, scratched his head and frowned.

“Oh my god,” I thought (or words to that effect.) “The old man’s lost. Well, we’ll miss that bus now for sure.”

I suddenly noticed Chuo Bus written in English on one corner of the sign with an arrow pointing up some stairs. I nudged our puzzled helper and pointed to the sign. He slapped himself on the head, broke into a huge grin, laughed out loud then sprinted up the stairs with us in tow. Within a minute we had purchased our tickets, exchanged bows with our helper and saviour, climbed on board the bus and settled into our seats with less than one minute to spare.

A typical log cabin for holiday rental in the Hokkaido region of Japan.

There were many other Hokkaido characters that made our stay special and Mr and Mrs Ebine (always accompanied by their furry sausage dog named Hino), the owners of the log cabin we rented for our holiday were particularly kind. Within twenty minutes of meeting Mr Ebine he had made up his mind that I was a fan of the local Hokkaido brown bear. On deciding this he scurried off to his storeroom and after several minutes of rummaging around he emerged with a beautiful forty centimetre carving of just such a bear which he presented to me with a deep bow. Mr and Mrs Ebine were attentive in every aspect of our stay, treating me to free glasses of sake, doing our washing, pointing out local wild life, recommending budget restaurants with great food and in the politest way possible pointing out cultural faux pas such as stomping shoes all over their tatami mats… something that only the most uneducated and uncultured of foreigners would do!

My daughter had decided early on that she wanted to buy an instamatic camera. Being Japan, we assumed that the town would have an ultra-modern, hi-tech photographic store. But this is Furano, a rural Hokkaido village…not Tokyo. We did find a little family-run camera store that was staffed by a middle-aged man, a middle-aged woman (we assumed to be his wife), another middle-aged woman (we assumed to be the next door neighbour), an elderly lady (we assumed to be grandma) and a collection of elderly cats (one of which was totally blind). None of them spoke English…especially not the cats.

Salem Edwards with her board.

Given the limited stock on display we were not surprised when the man, through pointing and sign language, informed to us that he only had display stock of instamatic cameras left and that they were not for sale. Seeing Salem’s disappointment, the man disappeared into a back room and started making phone calls. After a few minutes he re-emerged and indicated to us that he would like us to stick around for ten minutes. He then ran out the door and just when we were starting to wonder whether we really should be hanging around the man arrived back toting a new baby blue instamatic camera…just the type Salem was after. The next small block of time was spent with the whole family wrapping, bowing, smiling, accepting money, offering other small items as gifts and laughing with delight at our attempts to communicate with their Japanese speaking cats. The top end retail experience in Furano involves being treated as one of the family!

We also found a great bakery. I initially walked into this place expecting to buy a simple loaf of bread. Instead I walked out with around 20,000 yen worth of exquisite delicacies. When I first entered the immaculately dressed baker emerged from behind his counter, shook my hand then escorted me around the shop describing in broken English the inner secrets of each of the items that were lovingly displayed. I selected honey-glazed croissants, brioche with whole eggs baked into them and the crispiest of whole meal loaves to take home for lunch. The baker hand wrapped each item in beautiful paper, emerged again from behind his counter, bowed deeply as he presented my purchases to me then escorted to me to his front door. It seems ludicrous to describe buying bread as a deeply pleasurable experience but that’s what it was!

‘Exquisite’ delicacies from the Furano Bakery.

Even the McDonalds people were fantastic in Furano. Of course I’ve been howled down by my Byron Bayster friends for being so crass as to have breakfast in McDonalds while in Japan. Well, let me tell you, they have not been to the Furano Maccas. Locally grown organic eggs and avocado on a crispy bun served by middle-aged women who clearly honour and love their jobs (so much so that they arrange the food on the tray into artistic shapes both honouring the products and their customers) and eaten in a spotless dining room with spectacular views of snow covered mountains is hard not to enjoy. As we opened the front door to leave all the staff (counter attendants, drive-thru attendants, cooks and cleaners) all momentarily stopped their work to bow and wave goodbye.

The town of Funaro, nestled at the bottom of the mountains.

The mountain crew were also wonderful. A huge bloke (ex pro-rugby player) named Take who managed the ski shop took care of our rental equipment every night making sure that skis and boards were waxed and serviced and ready to go each day. At the end of a week he gave me an amber necklace as a gift in exchange for a ratty old pair of Vans sunglasses. His boss didn’t do a lot of work but she was sure entertaining. This woman, seemingly in her fifties, was always on the mountain either skiing or boarding. One morning she boarded up to me and explained that she had seen Salem zipping down one run and commented that Salem was boarding very well. She also added that she had not seen Levi on the slopes that morning. I responded that I had not seen him either. She told me he’d probably been eaten by a bear! (Oh, I thought, ok then…no problem.)

On another occasion an attractive female stranger skied up to us at the base of a run and greeted us warmly. It turned out to be the woman from the tourist office I had been emailing over the previous few weeks to organize our Furano accommodation. I stupidly asked how she recognized us on the mountain and she shyly explained that since I was just about the only non-Japanese person in town with two teenage kids in tow picking me out on the mountain was not exactly rocket science.

Our favourite of all the Furano characters was the owner, manager, head chef and front of house person at a curry restaurant we liked so much that we returned to three times. Another Furanoan with only a smattering of English this woman provide us with wonderful home-cooked food (at ridiculously inexpensive prices), fantastic service and a kindness and attention to detail that is rarely found in our home town. When it comes to a ski holiday Furano has it all, even on a tight budget and the kindness and warmth of the local people will leave you on a high for months.

Tim Edwards

For more information go to:furanoholidays

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