High up in the mountainous region of Nagano Prefecture, in a little town called Yamanouchi (山ノ内), lies Jigokudani Monkey Park (地獄谷野猿公苑). Here you can come upon the remarkable sight of a large population of Japanese macaques - or “snow monkeys” - submerging themselves in the local natural hot springs. Getting to the park requires a 30-minute trek through foreboding valleys, spooky forests, and creaking trees crystallized with frost. When I made the journey myself, it felt like I was wandering through the imagination of C.S. Lewis. That was part of the appeal, though: the unknown. Where are the monkeys? How big are they? How would they behave? Every step I took amplified the anticipation. 

Upon entering the park, what immediately struck me was how freely the monkeys roam the rocky area; they seemed to have no problem coming right up to your feet. At first it was quite alarming, but unless I started needlessly poking them, I was sure I’d remain unscathed. 

The large onsen (温泉) in the center of the park, where the monkeys soak themselves, bubbles continuously. Had the monkeys ingeniously installed an underwater heating system? I admit I did momentarily consider the possibility. It turns out that Jigokudani (地獄谷) translates to “Hell Valley” due to the steam and boiling water that bubbles out from small crevices in the frozen ground – guaranteeing the monkeys an endless supply of warm water. No wonder they looked content. The humans present, on the other hand, shivered and chattered their teeth in the bitter cold while taking photos. I was tempted to rip my clothes off and join the monkeys, as they seemed to have the better deal. 

I noticed that there was a camera by the side of the onsen, which live streams all the monkey action in the onsen on the official park website. With this in mind, people were mercifully spared the spectacle of a naked man jumping into an onsen with a bunch of monkeys.

There was also a small information center, which had an explanation detailing the hierarchy of the alpha-community in the park. In this hierarchy, there is one male boss at a time. When feeding time comes, which the park employees feed him first, followed by his family, and finally the other monkeys. Inside the souvenir shop on site hangs the pictures of monkey leaders past and present, with the duration of their leadership noted underneath. It felt like a presidential hall of fame – which gave the portraits a sense of status and refinement. 

It was an inspiring visit, and one which left me with a number of unforgettable images: the baby monkeys hitching rides on the backs of their parents as they darted along the ragged rocks; the mother cradling her sleeping child in the onsen; and the lone, immobile monkey bowing its head atop a rock beside the hot spring. (I wanted to poke it to see if it was alive, but remembered my policy of no poking, so I resisted. It’s also against park regulations to touch them.)

I strongly recommend visiting this park. You may never get an opportunity to see these beautiful creatures as close as this anywhere else. The park is open all year round, but I’d recommend going in January and February, as the park is submerged in thick snow, which makes for an atmospheric and photogenic experience. The monkeys are also more inclined to warm themselves in the onsen in the colder climate. And remember, if you do go, no poking.