Snowboarding pretty well defies description, but at its root it was basically like paying someone unholy amounts of money to beat you all over the body with a stick while you slide down a hill in fetters, only even better. Really, of course, it was pretty well the time of my life, and my only regret is that I couldn't stay longer. Andrew had to teach me absolutely everything about snowboarding, but surprisingly that only took maybe an hour or two, and after that we took off like two bats out of hell with crippling inner-ear disorders; speed wasn't too much of a problem, but I especially had a propensity to slam into everything I passed by and collapse onto the ground for almost no reason.
The first day we stuck to the little, four-course ski area connected to our hotel for my sake, but the next day we accidentally ended up going to the massive ski area where the '96 Olympics were held; I was trying to think of analogies for how cool that was, but I'm afraid words, nay even the very rules of this universe prevent the full expression of the greatness of that experience. We went to a different area the final day, and although it was very nice, after the other it was hard to settle for anything else.
It's hard to speak objectively to how well I can snowboard now, as starting from zero makes any amount of improvement seem pretty neat, but I can confidently say that I am still solidly in the bottom half of the beginner rank. By the end I could probably board better than a greased pig riding on banana peels, but not by too terribly much.
As it turns out, falling constantly doesn't hurt too terribly while you're doing it, with a few certain types of falls excepted, but afterwards the exhaustion and soreness hits you like a ton of bricks all specially carved with the sole intent of crushing you, tender bit by tender bit. I can hardly move any part of my body right now, but fortunately I don't need to move until Friday or so, so that shouldn't be too much of a burden on my daily life.
Our hotel (pictured above) looked like the Savage Reserve from Brave New World's unpopular younger cousin, the Ugly Reserve. I assume that this is necessary for the same reason as the Reserve in the book, as Nagano is so beautiful that its residents would forget what ugly was if they didn't have this hotel as a constant reminder.
There will doubtless be more about this later, but now it is very late and I am extremely tired from all this X-treme sporting.
- Gyaa! I'm give up
Naka-ku, Hiroshima
730-0803
JAPAN
