This was our first real trip as a family of 6 — it still sounds surreal to say that! While we have been alone often with all four kids — heck, we were by ourselves when the girls were born — we’ve not been on a longer holiday, just us and the four of them. We thought Club Med might make this easier and cushion the caregiving and this year there were particularly good good early deals for Japan, because of fewer trans-Asian bookings. We had arranged to go with another twin family and were really looking forward to it! For months, we had been taunting the girls with the thought of going to Japan and the boys had been telling them about the delicious milk and the good bread. The poor girls have no idea of what Japan is, but they would diligently eat by themselves and dutifully lie back on their pillows muttering “I can feed myself. I can go to Japan!”
The overnight flight to get to Japan, followed by an internal transfer, and then a 3-hour drive, no matter how many times I do it, I always swear off doing it again. A direct flight to Hokkaido is one thing, but the extra flight is always a killer. Bleary-eyed and overwhelmed before we’d even begun, I was glad we had a longer layover in Narita to revive over a hot meal, collect our bags and head off again. We had also rented a car, because Club Med charges for transfers! Transfers for 6 added up to about the same as renting a large car for the entire time — I couldn’t believe it. The road conditions were all clear and dry on the tar by this time, and it gave us the flexibility to come and go, because sometimes the shuttle timing does not line up to the flight arrival.
The Club Med at Tomamu is really a wonderful set-up, with friendly staff (they call them GOs — Guest Officers) and a large buffet with rotating choices of both Western and Japanese food. The hubby and Pezzy were the biggest fans of this provision, just arrive and eat. Although I was also glad not to have to be behind a stove thrice a day! The breakfast was particularly luxurious and I remember asking Pezzy, “is it good?” and he scornfully said, “good? It’s Awesome.” The rooms are spacious and for the price, they give families two inter-connecting rooms of almost 6 poofy, comfortable beds with crisp sheets. The children were thrilled with the space and the beds — Pips, who had returned from using the warmed toilet seat in the bathroom at the resort after using one for the first time in the airport, said in delight, “ooh, so nice. Mummy, it’s like the one last time”.
The place was bustling with Singaporeans and Thais. Our friends had sadly cancelled because their kids fell ill, but we knew and met at least another 10 families there, so there were always people to catch up with over meals, or over adult lunches, while the children were in ski school. The program for the children was one of the strong points; if your child is beginning and really needs many lessons, this is a great way for them to get instruction through the day, while you had lots of time to rest or hit the slopes yourself. They were good at motivating the children, giving out medals and often had activities and performances that spanned well after the ski slopes had closed. The instructors for the children were often better and more enthusiastic than those for the adults.
The way to get value out of your stay is really to go for every lesson, eat every buffet, drink all the sake and use the pool and onsen every day. That’s not probably possible, but even if you account for all of that, you’re probably still paying a premium for the pricey Club Med package. I really felt it was not great value, given they still make you pay for equipment rental, and per-child daycare so it can feel like they are continually extracting their pound of flesh along the way. But for people with little children, it’s one of your only options to have a holiday yourself.
The boys are actually aging out of the children’s program already at 7, Wes, who is an amazingly fluid and well-balanced skier, was in Star 6 (their program goes up to Star 7). Pezzy wanted to do snowboarding lessons and I was really surprised and pleased that he stuck it out for 3 days, then wanted to keep going. I switched him back to skis, because I was dissatisfied that the instructor had left the children often by themselves on the same pre-bunny slope (not even the conveyor, just a little hill) going up and down for 3 full days, morning and afternoon with no feedback or slope exposure. When I told him that I would like him to experience the mountain, he protested “It’s ok, Mummy, I want to get better and you just have to keep trying, right?” but after he switched, I genuinely think both boys had really good skis and we got to ski with them by collecting them after their lessons.
As usual, it amused me that the boys are so different. After the day’s searing activities, Wes would beg to be allowed to go to the theatre to watch the performance “shows” or play games with his friends. Pezzy, on the other hand, was content to go back to the room’s plush beds, read his Kindle, and after a while, would tell me “I’m going to turn off the lights now, Mummy, I’m tired” and put himself to bed. The resort is so self-contained and only three floors that it felt safe and familiar to the boys, we didn’t think twice about allowing Wes to stay out with friends, or for Pezzy to go by himself carrying the laundry bag to collect our clothes from the dryer, in the laundry room on the next floor.
What about the girls? At 3.5 years old, they missed the age-4 cut-off for Flake 1, which is the true beginner toddler class where they don’t advance off the pre-bunny slope. There is a Petit Club for 2–4-year-olds, but they only visit the outdoors once a day and it didn’t seem like a fun or age-appropriate environment for them to be the entire day. After some (unpleasant) argument, they came to the (illogical) compromise that if the girls took a private lesson and the coach judged them fit, they could join Flake 1, but they would have to go back to the Petit Club for the rest of the day. Is that because Petit Club costs $80/child/day and the under-4s technically don’t pay for room or board?
To me this was absolutely ridiculous and amounted to a bribe to upgrade your toddlers to a ski class — the Flake 1 class literally just learns to put their boots on. Why would you need a private coach to ascertain that they are fit? And what would he be assessing 3.5-year-olds on, particularly if they had never been on slopes? But again, there was no choice and they were fairly condescending about it — at one point, the instructor in a thick French accent told me, “well, if all 3-year-olds go to Flake 1, then there would be no Petit Club”, to which I replied, “no, all 2- and 3-year-olds would still go to Petit Club, there are only a handful of children who are well past 3 but not yet past 4”. In the end, I actually felt that, even though the girls would have been very bored, it was corroborating something I’d already long ago decided — it’s easier and faster to teach a 5/6-year-old to ski well than to anguish yourself by forcing a younger child into learning to ski.
The reactions of the girls were also classic. Roro, being the more pliant, resilient, brave and cold-loving of the two, wasn’t particularly pleased about being led by the burly coach onto the slope, but she didn’t protest and sat mutely on the ski slope while he talked to her. After a while he let her try sliding down the little hill, while holding the back of her ski jacket. And that apparently, was a Pass. Not so Miss Pips. Having sensed a weakness in the coaches at having to deal with a confused little girl, she screamed and cried hysterically, turning on the waterworks and snorty sobbing, until they left her indoors and had called us.
When I arrived, she had long calmed down, but started to sob when I suggested going out into the snow. I had her do self-control hands and she immediately quietened down again and agreed to go out to build a snowman. This apparently, was also a Pass. I was in serious doubt that they could be left in Flake 1, but the instructor there was much more effective than the private coaches. As they lined the children up, they asked loudly, “Who is crying — can we cry?” Nooo... “Are we the Baby Class?” Nooo... “Are we the Crying Class” Nooo... “Are we going to have fun?” By the next day, they were happily joining the ski class, especially when Pips discovered having lunch alone meant she could help herself to the soft-serve machine in the cafeteria, and by the last day, the girls actually were promoted to Flake 2, which just goes to show anyone can do the Flake classes.
The sad truth is, the same child of the four that doesn’t like water, also doesn’t like snow. She doesn’t like cold, she doesn’t like speed, she has a lot of anxieties. None of this suggests she would take to skiing or a snow resort, so while she loved being with us, and she loved going to the wonderful wave pool that Club Med Tomamu and Hoshino Resort Tomamu share, she was a pretty miserable little bug otherwise. Both girls are also true Covid babies — I had to explain to the boys that when their little sisters get over-tired, they start to say “I want to go home” and what it means is that they are overwhelmed.
Although this was a lovely facility that made all of us feel at home, and the food was surprisingly good, it can feel like being inside a casino, with areas of artificial light and dark that make you lose sense of time and day. I also felt that the adult instructors could have been better and the classes smaller. Good skiers would probably find the single mountain slightly constrained after a while, but that wasn’t an issue for our first time. The snow was also not particularly good by March, but there were a couple of snowfalls.
After Club Med, we had two days to spend in Sapporo before the school holidays were up and the husband had vetoed my idea to bring them to Tokyo. I also felt he was right — I wanted to bring the boys to eat good food, but we could do that outside Tokyo and it was better and easier to keep them in the open spaces of Sapporo. We had thought to drive to Sapporo, repeating our haunts of March with the boys, but then I had the brainwave of booking an extra night at the Hoshino Tower Resort, right next door. The Hoshino resort actually owns all the land and ski runs in Tomamu and rents some to Club Med. It is a local hotel chain and family rooms with in-built playrooms — they were really good value, something like $200 a night or $2000/7 nights. I had actually made an initial mistake and booked the Hoshino Tomamu, instead of Tomamu Club Med, because the Hoshino webpage opens stating it is a resort in Tomamu. For people who don’t need the full childcare program of Club Med, Hoshino is a wonderful and well-priced option, but just a caveat that Hoshino Tower, where we stayed, was quite grubby, while Hoshino Risonare is the luxury option.
The room at Hoshino was in poor and aged condition, peeling in the corners and mirrors, with an open wire in the bathroom. The windows didn’t open and the floor futons were very thin — Wes was distinctly unimpressed at Japanese beds on this basis! The entryway is pedestrian with a table lined with toiletries for you to collect as you pass reception. However, the access to skiing is as good, if not better. You can use the same onsen and wave pool facilities; there is a warren of restaurants, and in the morning, we discovered their three breakfast venues and menus, which were drop-dead gorgeous. The light, all along the catwalk and the dining room was spectacular, and their food, like heirloom-coloured radish salads, heaped barra-chirashi bowls, thick caramelized French toast with gobs of Hokkaido cream. For that alone, I would consider going back.
The extra day was actually really nice, to transition us from what actually felt like a busy period of skiing and activity, without having to pack up and drive far away. In truth, even at Club Med, managing the two 3-year-olds and what had been a very sober work week took up most evenings. After lunch with friends, we drove toward Chitose airport to an onsen ryokan called Lake Shikotsu Tsuruga Resort Spa. On the way we stopped at Lucky Supermarket to buy some mikkan oranges and snacks, and in the lake area, we spotted a red fox and many pods of wild deer grazing by the road, which was a thrill for the boys. I didn’t know what to expect — this did not seem like the most child-friendly of places, though Japan has often surprised me in that regard. The smaller Lake Shikotsu area is closer to the airport than Lake Toya, which is on the way to Niseko. It is supposed to have some of the cleanest waters in Hokkaido, which is piped to the hot springs in and under the hotel rooms.
Though it would certainly have been more luxurious without four children, this wound up being a really wonderful family stay! The resort is a very old, historical Japanese building, with a long, open cold stone walkway, leading to a second building with dark, low rafters and a central fireplace, where they set out marshmallows for toasting. We were shown to our room, which was well-sized because it had a Western sleeping area and a “living” tatami area (which converts into a second Japanese sleeping area) which looked out onto a small private bath — Wes immediately asked if he could have a regular bed, but I assured him Japanese futons are not meant to be thin mattresses. They showed us the cupboard with 2 large yukata, 2 small and 2 little adorable mini-yukatas, along with a generous supply of towels, scrubs and slippers. The children were tickled by the idea of a place where you bathe and change into pyjamas — “but what about dinner, Mummy?” “You can go to the restaurant in yukata”, “In our pyjamas, the whole day?”. So that’s all we did. We used the private bath, the kids shoveled fresh snow and held clean icicles in the bath, and then we all went to the public baths, which had pools of hot, warm and cold water. The boys tried out the pillow library, where you could select a pillow from their wall of display to borrow for the night. That, said Pezzy, was the reason this was his favorite hotel of the whole trip.
At dinner time, we left the room and waited at the doorway, where they brought us individually sized clogs, thick coats and these super cute woolly fleece ponchos for the girls to walk to the restaurant — the height of Japanese specificity. We had opted not to do in-room Kaiseki, but the hotel has a buffet dinner and breakfast that is sumptuous and nutritious. At night, while you could order non-stop à la carte dishes and pizzas, one of the mains was a delicious stewed beef on mixed grain — red bean rice with an onsen egg. In the morning, they had a smoothie bar, where you could get a range of fruit and veg drinks. I discovered that you can blend strawberry with cauliflower to make a healthy smoothie! We didn’t have time to really walk around the lake and the village area, but this was great and special experience. I definitely hope to be back one day.
Our return journey was going very smoothly, until we transited at Tokyo, only to realize, to our dismay, that our flight to Singapore had been cancelled. By this time, my mother was already flying to Tokyo to meet me — her flight had been cancelled too, a week back, and I had to book an expensive replacement ticket. I surmised immediately that there must have been two identical cancellation emails, with different confirmation numbers and that we had missed that ZipAir had, because of procurement delays on their fleet, cancelled a few days of flights. There were no more flights that day. We would have to go into Tokyo and re-book ourselves for a few days after. In the lift down, we wound up bumping straight into another Singaporean who was in the exact same situation. This wound up making the news at home, and made it easier to explain to the boys’ school! Imagine all of us huddled around two trolleys of children and luggages, trying to sort things out...
On a positive note, I had already planned to take a few days of leave from work before our year-close. I was going to keep one boy for a special trip with my mom and me, so we would have forfeited two tickets anyway. I had packed very light (just two bags between the 6 of us) but had laundered most of it before leaving Hokkaido. The first order of business, after ramen, and booking return flights, and a second Tokyo hotel room, was oddly buying some children’s shoes because in the line of packing light, I had made them wear their snowboots aboard the plane and that’s all they had. A bright spot was finding great de-tax shoe shops. Both girls were crestfallen to be told by their gleeful brothers that “we aren’t going back to Singapore. Our flight has been cancelled. We will be going into Tokyo”, to which Wes even had the gall to ask me, with a big, knowing grin, “Is Popo arriving tonight, Mummy?” and “Daddy, don’t forget to message my teacher to tell her I won’t be back!”, but they perked up on receiving a pair of shiny-new pink New Balance sneakers.
A completely unplanned expedition into Tokyo, a quick couple days in Shinjuku with all four and bemused grandma and an opportunity to catch some lovely early Sakura. Tokyo really isn’t a place for children, especially young children who can’t walk that far. Both the husband and I were already tired from the previous week and this week was even more in tiny spaces — but we were fortunate to be able to visit a shrine and garden by taking the Hop-On-Off open-top bus. Of all the gardens we visited, the Shinjuku Gyoen gardens stand out as having really beautiful lawns for hanami and corridors of trees for walking. We went to an excellent shabu-shabu called Momo, and to Zai, a kitschy restaurant where you can fish for your food. After the girls left, we moved on to Ginza where we had a really spacious room and a lovely stay — the boys’ top three things to do in Tokyo have nothing really to do with the city, but remind me that children need open spaces, interaction and humanizing experiences. The first thing they loved to do was to get the last carriage on the train, so that they could peer into the conductor’s window and wave to the driver (on one trip, the driver had dashed out to greet them with train cards, which was really nice) — this isn’t so nice for everyone else because the trains are long to walk across. The second thing is to draw crop circles by dragging their heels in the gravel moat that surrounds the Imperial Palace, while I trail behind them kicking the stones back into position. The third was on the last day, Wes had somehow set him mind on going to a miniature pig cafe, and the MiPig in Harajuku was booked full. I managed to call around to secure a space at a Hedgehog cafe, which Pezzy claimed as his choice. After more calls, I found another MiPig cafe and Pezzy graciously gave up his spot for Wes’s choice, which was both surprising and honest, “I don’t really care about it, or which animal, so it’s ok if I don’t go to the Hedgehog cafe, we can go to the MiPig cafe — but Mummy, if we come back to Tokyo, can we go to the Hedgehog cafe?”
As much as it was sometimes hard and often felt like we were crawling along at 2 miles/hour, it was an amazing, special time of sharing with the kids. Watching their individual personalities show themselves so clearly, and especially in their interactions with each other, is just something I’m always grateful for. Shocking them out of their comfort environment, especially for the girls, is a great way to make them grow and verbalize into speech more of what they are experiencing and thinking.
