Beppu

Discovering Beppu

Beppu sits on the northeastern coast of Kyushu, wedged between the volcanic peaks of Mount Tsurumi and the calm waters of Beppu Bay, and it announces itself before the train even pulls into the station. Columns of steam rise from streets, hillsides, rooftops, and riverbanks across the city — a perpetual reminder that beneath Beppu’s unassuming urban surface lies one of the most geothermally active zones on earth. More hot spring water flows here than in any other city in Japan. Over 2,000 individual spring sources produce nearly 130,000 kiloliters of steaming mineral water per day, placing Beppu second only to Yellowstone in total hot spring output worldwide. The result is a city where thermal bathing is not a special occasion but the fabric of daily life — where neighborhood public baths charge as little as ¥100 ($0.70), where steam vents cook dinner, and where the ground itself radiates warmth through the soles of your shoes as you walk the streets of the Kannawa district.

Unlike the refined onsen resort towns of Hakone or Kinosaki, Beppu carries a rougher, more democratic energy. This is a working city of around 115,000 people, and its hot springs serve locals first and visitors second. The eight distinct hot spring districts — collectively known as the “Beppu Hatto” — each carry different mineral compositions and temperatures, from the sulfur-heavy waters of Myoban to the iron-rich springs of Hamawaki. Some are scalding and violently colored, suitable only for viewing. Others are gentle and milky, perfect for long, meditative soaks. The diversity is the point: no other city on earth offers this range of thermal bathing experiences within a single municipal boundary. For Japanese hot spring bathing customs and etiquette, see the tips section below.

The Hells of Beppu

The Jigoku Meguri — the “Hell Tour” — is Beppu’s most famous attraction and one of the most surreal natural spectacles in Japan. Seven geothermal hot springs, each far too hot for bathing (temperatures range from 80°C to nearly 100°C), have been designated as scenic viewing sites, and their violently colored waters, boiling mud, and erupting geysers earned them the name “jigoku” (hells) centuries ago. A combined ticket covering all seven costs ¥2,200 ($15), and a full tour takes two to three hours by bus or car between the two clusters.

The five hells clustered in the Kannawa district are the most visually dramatic. Umi Jigoku (Sea Hell) is the largest and most photographed — a vast pool of cobalt blue water that steams and shimmers with an intensity that seems almost artificial, the color produced by dissolved iron sulfate. A small tropical greenhouse heated entirely by the hell’s thermal output houses giant Amazonian lotus pads large enough to support the weight of a child. Chi no Ike Jigoku (Blood Pond Hell) is equally striking, its waters a deep, opaque crimson caused by iron oxide and magnesium compounds leaching from subterranean clay. The red mud from this pool has been used for centuries in traditional skin ointments sold at the on-site shop. Oniishibozu Jigoku (Shaven Head Hell) features thick grey mud that rises in large, smooth domes on the surface — resembling the shaved heads of Buddhist monks — before collapsing back with a thick, viscous plop. Kamado Jigoku (Cooking Pot Hell) is the most interactive, with demonstrations of the steam’s cooking power and pools that change color from blue to green depending on temperature and light. Oniyama Jigoku (Demon Mountain Hell) uses its thermal heat to raise Japanese crocodiles in heated pools — an eccentric attraction that has operated since 1923.

The remaining two hells sit in the Shibaseki district, a short bus ride north. Tatsumaki Jigoku (Waterspout Hell) is an erupting geyser that blasts boiling water several meters into the air at roughly 30-minute intervals — a stone canopy was built above the vent to contain the eruption, which would otherwise reach much higher. Chinoike Jigoku (Blood Pond) and Shiraike Jigoku (White Pond Hell) round out the group with milky white waters caused by dissolved silicic acid. Together, the seven hells provide a vivid geological lesson in the volcanic forces that power all of Beppu’s springs — and make the gentle, bathable onsen elsewhere in the city seem all the more remarkable by contrast.

Onsen Bathing

Beppu’s true purpose is not sightseeing but soaking. The city’s eight hot spring districts — Beppu, Hamawaki, Kannawa, Myoban, Kamegawa, Horita, Shibaseki, and Kankaiji — contain hundreds of public bathhouses ranging from coin-operated neighborhood baths the size of a living room to sprawling resort complexes with multiple pools, saunas, and panoramic views over the bay. The variety of mineral compositions across these districts means that each bath offers a subtly different experience — alkaline springs that leave the skin silky, sulfur springs that ease muscle tension, salt springs that warm the body long after leaving the water.

The most celebrated public baths include Hyotan Onsen (¥880 / $5.90) in Kannawa, which features multiple indoor and outdoor pools at varying temperatures, sand baths, steam inhalation rooms, and a waterfall bath — recognized as a Michelin three-star attraction. Takegawara Onsen (¥300 / $2 for the main bath) is Beppu’s most historic bathhouse, operating since 1879 in a distinctive Meiji-era wooden building that resembles a kabuki theater. The main bath is a simple, no-frills hot pool that captures the honest character of Beppu’s bathing culture.

Sand baths (sunamushi) represent one of Beppu’s most distinctive bathing traditions. At Shoningahama Beach or Takegawara Onsen (¥1,030 / $6.90 for the sand bath), attendants in traditional dress bury visitors up to the neck in naturally heated volcanic sand. The sand is warmed from below by geothermal steam to approximately 42°C, and its weight creates a gentle, full-body pressure that is deeply relaxing — something between a warm embrace and a full-body compress. Sessions last 10 to 15 minutes, during which the thermal heat penetrates muscles and joints while the mineral-rich sand is said to draw toxins through the skin. Afterward, a rinse in the adjacent onsen bath completes the experience. The sensation is unlike any conventional bath or spa treatment.

Mud baths (doroyu) add another dimension. Beppu Onsen Hoyoland (¥1,100 / $7.30) offers thick, grey mineral mud baths alongside conventional onsen pools — the mud coats the skin with a smooth, clay-like film rich in minerals. The experience is messy, unusual, and strangely satisfying.

Jigoku Mushi Steam Cooking

Beyond bathing, Beppu’s geothermal energy enters the kitchen through jigoku mushi — “hell steaming” — a cooking method that uses natural volcanic steam vents to prepare food. The tradition dates back centuries in the Kannawa district, where residents have long used the steam billowing from cracks in the earth to cook rice, vegetables, and seafood. Today, Jigoku Mushi Kobo (Hell Steaming Workshop) in Kannawa provides a public facility where visitors can purchase fresh ingredients — prawns, crab, chicken, corn, sweet potatoes, eggs — and cook them in wooden baskets placed over stone-lined steam vents (¥600-1,500 / $4-10 for food, plus ¥390 / $2.60 for use of the steam pit).

The process is simple and hands-on. Staff explain the cooking times for each ingredient (eggs take about 10 minutes, seafood around 15, root vegetables closer to 20), and visitors lower their baskets into the billowing steam, then wait at nearby tables until the timer signals that the food is ready. The results are remarkably clean and flavorful — the mineral-rich steam imparts a subtle depth that ordinary boiling or steaming cannot replicate, and the absence of oil or seasoning lets the natural flavors of the ingredients come through with striking clarity. Jigoku mushi pudding, a custard steamed in the volcanic vents, has become Kannawa’s signature dessert — rich, silky, and faintly mineral in a way that is difficult to describe but immediately addictive.

The steam vents also heat the streets and homes of Kannawa. Walking through the district, plumes of steam rise from gutters, manholes, and the backyards of private houses. Small vent-top cooking stations called “jigoku gama” (hell pots) sit outside some homes, used by residents for everyday cooking in exactly the same way their ancestors did. The entire neighborhood functions as a living demonstration of geothermal energy integrated seamlessly into daily life.

Where Should I Stay in Beppu?

Beppu’s accommodation options reflect the city’s unpretentious character. Rather than the high-end ryokan culture of Hakone or Kinosaki, Beppu offers excellent value across all budget levels, with even modest hotels and hostels frequently including access to on-site onsen baths.

Central Beppu (near the station) provides the most convenient base for first-time visitors. Suginoi Hotel (from ¥18,000 / $120 per night) is a massive hilltop resort whose rooftop onsen complex — featuring multiple pools with panoramic views over Beppu Bay — is worth the stay alone. The hotel’s scale and amenities make it suitable for families and travelers who prefer resort-style accommodation. Beppu Hostel U&T (from ¥2,500 / $17 per night) is a standout budget option near the station, offering clean dormitory and private rooms and — remarkably for a hostel — its own small onsen bath.

Kannawa is the better base for travelers focused on the Hells, steam cooking, and the most atmospheric onsen district. The neighborhood’s narrow streets, steam vents, and traditional bathhouses create an environment that feels more like a hot spring village than a city district. Several small ryokan and guesthouses in Kannawa offer tatami rooms, yukata robes, and proximity to Jigoku Mushi Kobo and the finest public baths. Mid-range options in Kannawa run ¥8,000-15,000 ($53-100) per night and often include access to private or communal onsen.

For travelers combining Beppu with the nearby mountain onsen town of Yufuin — a quieter, more upscale hot spring destination one hour away by JR rail — a two- to three-day Beppu-Yufuin itinerary captures both the raw, volcanic energy of Beppu and the refined, rural tranquility of its highland neighbor.