Written in lyrical prose, this is my travel tale from a snow-capped forest retreat in northern Japan.
What is snow, if you’ve never touched it?
In Taiwan, snow is more myth than memory.
My family had never seen it—never felt its weight or wonder. What is snow? Is it like ice? Or like cotton, floating and fleeting? Is it sharp, or soft? To those raised under subtropical skies, snow is something imagined—both unfamiliar and quietly romantic.
When my family visited me in Japan this winter, I said, “Let’s go see the real thing.”
We left Tokyo behind and headed north—not to ski, not to chase thrills, but simply to meet snow. Not the kind that flickers through city air and vanishes on contact, but the kind that cloaks the world. That piles deep into forest paths. That hushes the air. The kind of snow you walk into—slowly, with snowshoes—and feel in your chest.
Our destination was the Oirase Keiryu Hotel by Hoshino Resorts, the only resort nestled beside the Oirase Gorge, within Towada-Hachimantai National Park. In the snowless months, this land flows with water—clear streams weaving through mossy stones beneath a forest of green. But in winter, it transforms into something else entirely—a silver-white wilderness where even sound wears a hush.
The road to Hachinohe: When snowbound delays find refuge in heartfelt hospitality
We boarded the Tohoku Shinkansen at 9 a.m., planning to reach Hachinohe by noon and catch the hotel’s shuttle.
But nature had other plans.
The train halted abruptly before Sendai due to technical problems, the car falling into silence. Time passed. Slowly, we began moving again—like a local train crawling through winter. I watched rooftops pass in slow motion, calculating and recalculating our chances of making the transfer.
By the time the shinkansen returned to its usual speed and we arrived in Hachinohe, it was already past three—we had missed our ride.
I called the hotel, half expecting an apology and instructions to wait at least another 30 minutes.
Instead, a gentle voice replied, “Don’t worry. We’ve already sent another bus. It’s waiting for you.”
Like a fire appearing in the white—a small act of warmth against the cold. That is Hoshino Resort. More than a hotel, it’s a kind of knowing quiet—an answer before the question is even asked.
Cradled by flame and frost: A first glimpse of the forest hotel
The moment I step into the main lodge of the Oirase Keiryu Hotel, my eyes are immediately drawn to the large fireplace—a glowing centerpiece by renowned artist Taro Okamoto. The flame flickers gently, casting a quiet rhythm through the high-ceilinged room. Behind it, a wall of glass frames a forest being slowly blanketed in snow. Near the hearth, Aomori apple juice and a selection of spirits are set out—perfect for sipping as I watch winter settle over the trees beyond.
Further in, the scent shifts—fresh coffee, tea leaves, something warm and grounding. A quiet terrace opens out onto snow-covered stillness. I step outside with a cup of coffee, sink into a soft chair, and breathe. Feather-light flakes drift before me.
Bringing my family here—it’s the kind of silence that doesn’t feel empty, but full.
Soaking in stillness: The elemental beauty of winter onsen
The Oirase Keiryu Hotel offers both indoor and outdoor hot springs, letting us choose between cozy warmth or an unforgettable soak beneath open skies.
In deep winter, few things feel more elemental than slipping into an outdoor spring carved into the forest’s edge. The water, drawn from the heart of Mt. Hakkoda, warms my skin while the air sharpens my breath. Steam rises in soft clouds. The scent of minerals mingles with that of new snow.
Around the pool, everything is white—boughs bowed with snow, stones wearing frozen crowns. A stream winds nearby, a silver ribbon threading through the silence.
As evening falls, the snow thickens. It lands on my shoulders, my face. I let it. The warmth below, the cold above—it feels balanced. Present. And in that moment, the only sounds are water and snow.
A landscape like a held breath—waiting, alive yet still.
A winter supper in apple country: Tasting Aomori, buffet-style
That night, we ate at Aomori Ringo Kitchen, where apples—Aomori’s pride—infuse nearly every dish.
It’s a buffet, but not an ordinary one. There’s roast beef, creamy chicken stew, tempura, fresh sashimi, and tender slices of local produce. Four varieties of Aomori apple juice, each with its own mood—from crisp and tart to mellow and rich—flow freely.
But the heart of the meal, for me, was the apple pie with milk ice cream. The pie, still warm, crumbles under my spoon. The ice cream is cool, smooth, deeply milky. Together, they speak in contrasts—like soaking in hot water while snow kisses your cheeks. Sweet and bright, soft and slow. A dessert that feels like a quiet embrace in winter.
Into the woods: Snowshoeing through nature’s snow-draped cathedral
Hoshino Resorts doesn’t just offer a place to stay—it invites you to live inside the landscape. Every trail, every excursion, feels like a step deeper into the natural rhythm of the land.
We joined three snowshoe hikes, each revealing a different page of the winter forest.
First, we traced the Oirase Gorge, usually unreachable in winter. Snow muffled our steps, and the water beside us moved in soft threads. Ice sparkled along the banks. The world felt paused, but not frozen—the stream still whispered, a low song beneath the hush.
Next, we followed a narrow trail through snow-draped trees, eventually reaching frozen Tsutanuma Lake. We lay down in the snow. It held us, gently. Above us, clouds drifted slowly. Around us, only breath and the subtle shush of snow against snowshoe.
Our final walk brought us to a frozen waterfall, suspended like a crystal organ against a stone wall. Wind threaded through the icicles. We stood, small and quiet, wrapped in nature’s cathedral.
The guides were steady and kind, helping my parents walk with ease. Even those unaccustomed to snow found joy here. “This alone was worth the journey,” my parents said, beaming. These weren’t just walks—they were quiet conversations between people and place, between memory and moment.
P.S. These activities are popular—book well in advance!
Falling asleep to the lullaby of the river
Our room faced the gorge. That night, we opened the window.
Snow fell quietly outside, and the river flowed on—soft as breath. No cars. No city. Just the sound of time, slowly unfolding. We stopped scrolling. Stopped planning. We just watched.
On tatami mats, we brewed tea and shared a bottle of Aomori apple wine. We spoke softly. We didn’t need much. Just the warmth of the room, the snow beyond the window, and the space to be still—together.
In a world that often rushes past, winter slows us down. Reminds us what to hold close.
Why we’ll return: Memory, etched in snow
The Oirase Keiryu Hotel isn’t just a resort. It’s a vessel for something deeper—a place where the natural world doesn’t just surround you, it speaks to you. Where “vacation” becomes a kind of quiet pilgrimage.
From the snowshoe paths to the way light filters through the trees, every detail honors the rhythm of the land. The staff feel more like companions—people who move at your pace, who see you arrive before you even reach the door.
You don’t leave this place behind. You carry it with you. The snow, the silence, the warmth—they linger.
And even as you ride away, you’re already dreaming of the return.
Traveler’s notes
▸ Snowshoe hikes: Reserve early
Winter activities are limited and fill up fast. Book at least five months in advance to secure your spot.
▸ Room recommendation: Room with a river view
Wake to snow-covered water by day, fall asleep to the river’s whisper by night. It’s where Oirase speaks the loudest.
▸ Don’t miss: Apple pie with milk ice cream
Hot meets cold. Soft meets crisp. A dessert that distills the essence of Aomori into a single perfect bite.