Otaru Guest House

Great Sources of Information !!!!!!!!

by lilipit

Some useful travel websites on Japan / Hokkaido :-

http://www.jnto.go.jp/eng/

http://www.jnto.go.jp/eng/RTP/Hokkaido/index.html

http://www.welcome.city.sapporo.jp/tourism/e/index.html

http://www.business.australia.or.jp/sapporo/hokkaido/

Kiroro

by SUN_69

"THIS IS SKIING"

THE DANCE OF FEAR AND DESIRE,
the duel of friction and gravity,
the deadlock of speed and security.
This is skiing.

Your fingers so cold you can hardly grip your poles,
your eyelashes stuck together.
Your skis carving a graffiti message of perfect arcs into winter's white indifference,
winter's pale skin,
the language of linked arcs,
circle talk,
S-curve whispers in the wind,
spindrift flying off cornices,

frost feathers in the snow shooting back darts of light,
that first light in the first moments of the first run in the first morning of the world,
diamond sparkles,
angel dust in the air,
diamond daggers that scratch the softer stuff of your skier's heart,
runs that never stop.
This is skiing.

The blind boogie of the bumps,
a whole universe narrowed down to one twisting gully and three monster moguls,
ski tips slippery as snakes,
pole plants like prayers, bobbing in and out of a hyperspace of hollows and drops,
loose as a goose with burning thighs and a demented grin,
finding the line where logically there is none,
listening to the rhythm of big bumps, syncopated time warp,
while the beat goes on, and on, and on.
This is skiing.

FROM THE SUBLIME TO THE SUBLIME.
Sidestepping half an hour uphill for a few more vertical feet of the steep
and the deep, deep breathing before floating over the edge,
falling in slo-mo through cornice, air, time, into slow, yielding, bottomless pillows of powder, floating down into an opaque undersea dance,
floating to the surface again, born-again, breathe again, living life one breath and five turns at a time,
gravity turned off at the main switch, angels with halos of powder, swinging low, coming for to carry you home.
Long sighs of compressed snow, tracks filling up behind you, a hundred yards of perfection,
another hundred yards, somewhere down there — your instructions read — there'll be a lift and a passport back to earth waiting for you.
You don't want to know about it.
This is skiing.

THIS IS WHERE TIME STOPS
and tempo builds,
this is where suborbital speed calls for a subconscious guidance system,
where carved turns become an art and cruising a way of life.
Your jaw muscles hurt from smiling,
your skis hit high-C as they slice this frozen topo map into hyperbolic sections,
your peripheral vision is as good as early-warning radar,
you weigh only 20 pounds net and skim across the mountain like a flat round stone across a cosmic pond.
This is skiing.

YOU TAKE THE BIGGEST EGGBEATER OF YOUR LIFE
and somehow survive.
Snow is packed down your neck.
You've lost your goggles.
Your back aches.
No complaints, no refunds, no whimpering,
this is skiing.
You drop down new runs, into new valleys, over new mountains, when does it end?
It doesn't,
this is skiing.

© Lito Tejada-Flores