Asamushi Onsen

Twenty minutes by bus from Aomori Station, the road east runs along the edge of Mutsu Bay until the waterfront inns of Asamushi come into view, their upper floors looking directly out across the water toward the Shimokita Peninsula. Asamushi Station, opened in 1891, sits a short walk from the shore, and the narrow main street between the station and the bay is lined with the tall facades of ryokan that have been trading on this coastal position for well over a century. Emperor Meiji stopped here in 1876 on his tour of the north, which tells you something about the town's standing even in the Meiji period.

The water at Asamushi is sodium chloride, drawn from springs that produce a clear, odorless bath with a density that you notice the moment you get in. The salt content is high enough to give the water a faint mineral weight on the skin, and the heat retention is excellent, meaning you stay warm for a long time after stepping out into the sea air. The temperature of the raw spring runs at 30 degrees Celsius, which is cooler than many hot springs, though most facilities heat the water before use. The bathing halls of the larger inns are built to maximize the bay view, so you sit in the steaming water while the blue-grey surface of Mutsu Bay fills the windows in front of you.

The bay itself is what makes Asamushi feel different from inland hot spring towns. In spring, clam-digging along the shoreline is a local event, and the restaurants serve the catch the same day. In summer, festival fireworks go up over the water while bathers watch from outdoor rooftop pools. The Asamushi Aquarium sits a short walk from most inns, a smaller and unpretentious facility that has been on this stretch of coastline for decades. After the soak, vendors on the main street sell grilled squid and scallops pulled from Mutsu Bay, and the combination of sea salt in the bath and sea salt on the food is not accidental.

Historically the springs here were discovered around 1190, when the monk Honen noticed the waters and their effects. The town developed steadily through the Meiji and Taisho periods as rail access improved and Aomori residents needed a closer alternative to longer journeys south. What remains today is a resort town that is genuinely local in character. The inns are large but not ostentatious, the public baths are well maintained and inexpensive, and on weekday afternoons the main street is quiet enough that you can hear the water moving in the bay.