A stroll through Hell

The air was heavy with the rotten egg stench of sulfur. The steam from the bubbling cracks in the ground shrouded the area in an eerie, ghostly white. An occasional gurgle also escaped from the yellow earth, almost in a vain attempt to beg forgiveness and a respite from this desolate place.

The path wound through cracked and jagged terrain. With each gust of wind I was assaulted with more of the old, rubbery egg stench. Yellow stained rocks comprised the walkway through these "hells". After I rounded a bend I saw a sign naming one particular hell for a woman who murdered her husband and was later executed. The spring apparently erupted shortly afterwards.

The area was laden with pine trees, bending and twisting like the souls of the condemned. which secluded the area even more, giving it an even more of a dark and scary hell-like quality. I certainly felt an uncomfortable sensation of dread and the lack of desire to spend much time there.

Approaching the top of a hill I could begin to hear a horrid, high pitched yell. A churning, choking, gasping sound that gave the area an even more awful character. That particular hell was aptly named the "Screaming Hell". A violent torrent of steam shoots from a vent in the earth causing a very convincing screaming sound. Perhaps those fated to hell did in fact reside here. Again the ambiance of this place was very dark. A scream of a crow briefly cut through the howling of the damned and another gust of foul air hit me.

As I walked through the hot spring hell I could feel a sense of isolation even though this place was in the midst of a small town. The place was hot and was drenched in the terrible odor of sulfur. The white, sharp, jagged rocks and the turmoil of the steaming water lent itself perfectly to the image of hell and it is certainly a place I would not want to be condemned to for eternity.

This area, although being called Hell, and definitely deserving of the name, is actually a hot springs resort near Nagasaki city. They are so named "Hell" because of the stark and forbidding landscape and of the intensity of the hot springs themselves. It is harsh and forbidding, a perfect picture of the stereotypical Hell.

After a about thirty minutes, my stomach could take no more of the heat and stench. I turned back towards the area I had come from and plunged into the white plumes of steam, returning again to the land of the living.