From the 'The Illawarra Mercury' last weekend:
Ski heaven does exist writes Denise Everton, as she ploughs through seemingly endless powder surrounded by breathtaking scenery during a trip to Japan's Niseko ski fields.
My friends didn't lie. For the past two years I'd been hearing about the brilliance of the ski experience in a little spot called Niseko on Japan's northern island of Hokkaido, descriptions that had reached near mythical proportions.
They talked of perfect powder; dry, fluffy snow that rose above the knee and enslaved all who dared to set ski upon (or perhaps more correctly, within) it.
There were long, graceful runs serviced by gondolas and covered chairs to keep the icy wind from slicing though you and heated pools called onsens to soothe tired muscles at the end of the day.
As a graduate of the Australian ski fields with its icy slopes and short runs, I could have been forgiven for thinking said friends had indulged in a little too much sake at the end of the day, but they really didn't lie. Ski heaven does exist and Niseko is its name.
Although not Japan's only ski field, Niseko is a firm favourite with Aussie skiers who seem to vastly outnumber all other nationalities on the slopes.
It's a bit of a hike to get there as you fly into Tokyo, connect to Hokkaido and then take roughly a three-hour bus trip to the village but travel can be very fluid. With time to spare at the domestic airport, we were offered an earlier flight, then had no trouble grabbing an earlier bus once in Hokkaido.
From that moment on, the magical mystery tour really began.
Even the bus trip was a revelation. We passed through picture-perfect forests where tree branches were laden with snow, skirted dazzling lakes and gazed upon fields of thick, white snow that stretched into the distance.
Never, in all my travels, had I seen this much powder and the beauty of the landscape absorbed me. When we passed through towns along the way, there were always people on roofs or in side streets shovelling snow and clearing overhangs. It looked like hard, cold work - a daily battle which you would never win but had to try anyway.
The magic doesn't dim when you reach Niseko. There's three main resorts - Hirafu, Annupuri and Hanazono - which are well spread out and can be skied on the same pass.
Hirafu is one of those amazing mixes - stylish accommodation melded with the comfort of a small village atmosphere. You can find five-star restaurants or food vans, ice bars or Irish sports bars, breakfast nooks that turn out mouth-watering pastries in the morning then turn into restaurants at night where you need to book a week in advance to gain access.
There's a boot guru who can modify your uncomfortable old ski boots into a perfect fit within hours and, best of all, a massage place specialising in the foot and lower leg that is nothing short of brilliant at the end of a few days skiing.
The convenience store sells great basics if you want to cook in your self-service apartment and if you're staying in the lower end of the village, there's shuttle buses to transport you to the ski lifts at the top end of town.
Still, the real magic unfolds on the slopes where you have almost 50km of groomed trails and slopes and roughly 12 hours a day to enjoy it.
The groomed areas are fun but the thing you quickly learn about powder is that it's highly addictive and you'll ski anywhere to cut a swath through the virgin snow.
Trees, which once loomed as deadly obstacles to be avoided at all costs, now become your greatest playmate as you swoop and veer around their trunks where powder tends to be deep.
You goggle at the sight of the snow rising over your knees as you plough through the fluffy stuff, so different from the heavy, wet material that falls from the sky in Australia.
It's a bizarre experience, skiing without being able to see your legs, seeing a bump in the snow ahead but skiing through it without resistance, or falling over onto a soft landing and getting up covering in snow but not getting wet and cold.
It doesn't matter that the sky isn't a brilliant blue, that the clouds can close in at a moment's notice and that the wind chill can be biting. This is a place where the longest run is 5.6km, where you have to stop for a breather mid run because the slope just goes on and on and where the view of Mount Yotei stretching before you when the clouds do break, is breathtaking.
Every moment on the slopes is worth it, even if your boots are pinching your shins, your feet are freezing and you look like some sort of alien creature with your balaclava, goggles and ski helmet.
By the end of the week my legs were screaming, particularly when we came out of the powder and hit the relative hardness of the groomed slopes.
As I railed inwardly at my inability to add just one more run to the day, I was already plotting how to improve my ski fitness before the next trip - the powder wouldn't beat me again.
Still, there wasn't much we hadn't done. We'd skied all the resorts, tested the gondolas, survived the open-air lifts, tried our skills at night skiing, ate a wonderful array of Japanese food at the cafes on the slopes, discovered the joys of hand and feet warmer sachets and laughed at a group of Aussie guys tackling a super-huge test-tube of beer over lunch at Hanazono.
That same afternoon our group of six adults swapped skis for snow mobiles and trekked off over the mountains for some fresh adventure and a touch of sanctioned hooning. The change of pace was great fun, the scenery spectacular and yes, it gave us a chance to rest our legs.
That left just one thing to try.
Onsens are a traditional part of Japanese life and one that is worth putting aside your modesty to try.
The hot springs or baths are found throughout Japan and there are a couple available for use in Hirafu. We tried one found in a hotel in the upper village and if you want to relax, this is the way to do it.
Separate baths are provided for men and women and feature both indoor and outdoor baths overlooking the ski slopes.
No swimming costumes are allowed but you can carry a small hand towel for modesty if you prefer which people often then place on their head once in the water. There are small cubicles for cleansing before and after you relax in the onsen so by the time you emerge from the room you are feeling a bit like a warm, wobbly custard mould.
One word of warning for the shy though, we discovered the men's outdoor onsen was visible from the bar/cafe in a corner of the hotel when we stopped for a beer before heading back to our accommodation. Thank goodness for lots of steam.
After skiing Niseko I have to wonder how I'll go back in the Aussie Alps with its icy groomed runs and patchy snow. Still, it'll be a good chance to practice my form and try to improve my ability in case Niseko lures me back.
