I've never experienced the positive anticipation of hitting the snow. It's just not something I've looked forward to - The reason for this is partially because my risk-to-reward is skewed to the risk. Being strapped to a board going down a snow-covered mountain is not something I've enjoyed. with the end result usually being an extremely battered body. Sore, insert any part of the body; head, hips, knees, wrists, arms, shoulders, the list goes on. Undeniably, this is a function of me never escaping the "beginners zone" of snowboarding, being relegated to green and red runs. So after a long hiatus, I'm back on the slopes. I have also made a conscious decision to retire the snowboard and try my hand at skiing. Niseko. Again.
Two weeks after the end of Chinese New Year had not dampened the Hong Kong crowds heading to Niseko. In actual fact, the cost of my flights came to an eye-watering 8K HKD (and that was not even a direct flight back from Sapporo to Hong Kong). So you may ask, why bother going? I don't enjoy the snow and the flights were expensive. Good question. The reason being that a lot of friends were flying over to Japan for a week on the slopes. People from New York, Toronto, Los Angeles, Tokyo and of course Hong Kong; a gathering of the fam.
We boarded the 4:30 pm Whiteliner bus from Sapporo International Airport that would take us to Kutchan, Niseko. The bus is comfortable but cold, I haven't prepared for the climate and all my warm clothing is packed into the my luggage that was now sitting in the hull of the bus. We pull into Niseko Welcome Centre two and half hours later. The sun has set and the snow falls gently but steadily. I stand at the side of the bus waiting for my luggage, I can't wait to throw on a base layer. 5 minutes pass, no luggage. I crawl under the bus looking for my black carry-on-sized suitcase. It's not there. The rest of the part are in the pick up car, with their luggage. Oh no, it's happened again. The second time my luggage has not shown up in my final destination. Defeated. We leave the bus terminal and get taken to the apartment.
We arrived at the apartment. It's warm and toasty. Frantically I play this out in my head. Why would anybody steal luggage from a bus to the snow? There's no items of value, although, admittedly you could argue that warm clothing in the snow is of utmost value. But I have my wallet, passport, phone, electronics etc. Everything in the suitcase is replaceable. There's plenty of shops that sell clothing. Snow gear. Gloves. Base layers. Socks. What about underwear? My friends are less rationale, but kindly offer me some clothing. I contact the bus company via email and the host of the apartment also contacts their missing possessions message board. I head to the police station and file a missing/stolen property report. The officers seem sympathetic and the give me a stub and tell me that they'll call me if something shows up. Later that evening I go to the ski shop and hire some ski gear and clothing, buy some gloves, goggles and socks. At least I have warm clothing for skiing. At this moment in time, my biggest concern is underwear.
The following morning I book a private ski lesson and hit the slopes for the first time. Being completely candid, being on skis does not feel anymore natural than being on a snowboard. But it comes a little less painfully. After a 3 hour session I head back to apartment. Success! Email from bus company saying that my luggage has being recovered and needs to be picked up from the Welcome Centre. Order is restored. Being able to brush my teether and feel warm as well as having clean underwear are the things that make you realise everything else is a bonus. The trip continues as expected: Couple more ski lessons, good laughs, onsens, snacking of Japanese gummis and generally a good time. Oh, and good eating. Really good eating. Bar Moon Ramen, Breakfast prepared by Riz, Ezo Crab Legs and omakase. After 5 days I eject and head back to Hong Kong.
On a side note. I am not a good skier. On the final day, I break free from the instructors and follow the group up. It's a humbling and painful crawl down the bottom on the mountain. Skis and poles flying everywhere. Thankfully people on the slopes aren't assholes. With random people coming up to me asking if I was ok. I was feeling pretty good after the two ski lessons on the bunny slopes. These green runs proved to be a real kick to the ski-ego. On well, let's see if I end up going again anytime soon.
