Madison beauty - trends - Beauty blog: Mrs Darling turning Japanese

Have just returned from a trip to the wondrous winterland of Niseko in Japan. The family all ski like maniacs but I am purely a pendant and après skier. (There is a story involving two knee reconstructions, MINE, that have left me somewhat traumatised and with a highly developed fear factor.)

Our flight from Tokyo to Sapporo was delayed for six hours because of too much snow. Can you believe it? My family is famous for bringing with us no snow, so this was a good sign - sort of. Finally we board the aircraft. The “encouraging” intercom announcement is then made: we will fly to Sapporo but may have to abort the mission and return if there is too much snow to land. Great!

We begin our decent into Sapporo and are on approach when there is a thunderous roar as the captain fires up the engines and pulls up sharply. I was freaking out, to put it mildly. I watch the faces of the Japanese passengers as the announcement is made to detect even a smidgeon of fear. They closed the runway just as we were about to land so we circle around for the next attempt. Am sweating bullets by this stage. We do end up touching down and much to the humiliation of family members I clap wildly.

There is oodles of snow and thick chunky flakes are falling continuously. The next morning, after waving them off with their mountainous layers of gear, I set about discovering the wonders of Hirafu Village. First stop is Abucha Bakery & Café, with the most delicious danishes, snails and this puff of pastry filled with an apple and rhubarb puree. Beyond scrumptious.

One thing I am very keen to try is an onsen (a hot spring). My son Jonah went on a trip to Japan with the school and became an expert. He schools me in the correct procedure. I purchase a postage size towel, which he tells me I need to wear on my head while bathing. Undressing under the punishing lights of the change rooms is the most traumatic part of the exercise. Next you wash yourself at cleansing stations and then plop in to the fabulously hot baths in the buff. I spent ages in the external pool at the Prince Hotel overlooking the ski slopes. It was beyond relaxing. It became a daily ritual for me squeezed between pastries, sake and sashimi.

I remained out of harm’s way, but my offspring suffered some trauma on the slopes. Harrison damaged himself doing a three-metre jump and ended up in Kutchan hospital and Jonah wrote off his thumb. For me, it was back to the onsen for some serious de-stressing.
Sayonara for now.

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