fugume
Cheap and in a beautiful location came with a couple cut corners. This is the smallest room I have stayed in in Japan so far. Well, that doesn't count the capsule hotel, but those are more like coffins than rooms.
See the two small boxes stacked next to the TV, the ones that look like cigarette cases? Do you know where your towel is? Each of those boxes contained a towel. The hotel didn't provide towels with the room. Instead, you could buy towels from a vending machine -- towels small enough to fit in cigarette cases.
Of course at this price the room doesn't come with a bathroom. The toilet is down the hall, and the communal bath is down a couple more halls. That's relatively common in Japan. In fact, I thought I was getting the hang of this whole communal bathing thing, but a sign outside this establishment's bath threw me for a loop.
"Public bath for gentlemen and ladies switched on alternate days", kindly announced in English as well as Japanese. There were separate men's and women's entrances. Was this place so cheap that they alternated filling the men's and women's baths with hot water? On off days would I have to hike down even more halls to use the men's shower room?
But, for the time being, I was happy to be the first one in the bath, and took solace in the fact that at least today was guys' day. I remained yet a hair rusty on the finer points of bath etiquette, but seemed to avoid any sizeable blunders.
The next day I wandered back down to the bath. I could tell from the waiting slippers that I was not the first in this time. But, I was much relieved to see the slippers, as they showed that my side was in use. I would have hot water after all. In I went, and oh, that's what the sign meant. Back out and in the other side. We're I more in the habit of looking up than down, I would have noticed the signs for men and women were swapped, instead of focusing on the slippers.
On the upside, this place had coin-op washing machines, and the rooms were laid out to make drying clothes easy.