Hot Springs I've Visited in Hokkaido, Ranked by a Tour Guide Who Can't Sit Still

On a February night with a blizzard raging, the moment I finally sank into the outdoor bath at Noboribetsu, I realised I'd left my towel back in the changing room. It was minus 12, ice was already forming in my hair, and there I was, stark naked, holding a quick strategy meeting with myself. Do I make a run for it, or tough it out until dawn? That night was the real beginning of my Hokkaido hot spring pilgrimage.

Working as a tour guide, I'm always recommending hot springs to guests, and it never sat right with me to suggest places I hadn't actually soaked in. Over the past few years I spent every day off renting a car or catching local buses to visit them, and eventually I built my own rankings—based on criteria you won't find in any tourist brochure.

My Criteria

It's not about star ratings or facility grades. It's about how often a local guy in the changing room strikes up a conversation with you, how silky your skin feels when you step out, and how quickly the thought "I need to come back here" crosses your mind. Those three things.

The Ones I Put at the Top

The public bath near Jigokudani in Noboribetsu is still my number one. From the moment the sulphur smell hits your nose, the atmosphere is different. After the towel incident on my first visit, I went back four more times. Once, an elderly man sitting in the next bath over heard my clumsy Japanese and slowly taught me the correct particles. A grammar lesson inside a hot spring bath—imagine that.

The small village hot spring near Niseko is another one I can't leave out. During ski season quite a few foreign visitors come, but if you go on a weekday morning you'll often have it to yourself. The water is so milky you can't see the bottom, and that's actually what makes it great. It's unsettling at first, but once you let yourself sink in, there's this unique feeling of tension just melting away. The temperature contrast—wind blowing down from the mountains chilling only your head while your body stays warm—is addictive.

Places That Were Quieter Than Expected

Jozankei Onsen in Sapporo is unbeatable for access, but on weekends it's so crowded that it's hard to just close your eyes and relax. That said, if you go on a weekday during autumn foliage season, it's a completely different story. I once watched red leaves drifting down onto the water's surface from the outdoor bath overlooking the valley, and that single scene bumped it up two spots in my rankings.

The hot springs near Lake Toya have overwhelming scenery, but honestly, the large hotel baths included on tourist routes lacked character. The bath at a small ryokan a 15-minute walk from the lake was a completely different experience. The elderly woman who ran the place would set out freshly brewed barley tea right by the bath, and I still can't forget the taste of that tea after a soak.

One Thing Travellers Don't Know

The most important piece of hot spring etiquette isn't actually showering before you get in. Everyone knows that one. What I always tell my guests is this: don't make noise when you enter the bath. If you splash in or shout "Oh, it's hot!", you break the moment for everyone who's been sitting there quietly with their eyes closed. Slowly, toes first. That's how you show consideration for others. It feels awkward at first, but once you get used to it, you come to understand that the silence is part of the hot spring itself.

There are still so many places I haven't been to. I've heard there's an outdoor bath near the Shiretoko Peninsula on the far eastern edge of Hokkaido where you can soak while looking out at the sea, and I'm determined to go before this winter is over. If anyone's been there, let me know—and tell me whether you remembered to bring your towel.