The waters here were not always reliable. Drilling began in 1941, and then the South Nankai earthquake of 1946 took them away entirely, leaving the hillside neighborhoods of Kume dry and quiet. It was only in 1962 that the work began again — careful, incremental, drawing up multiple sources from the rolling terrain around Matsuyama's southern edge. What emerged was a place shaped less by antiquity than by persistence, a modern onsen district that carries the particular texture of postwar Japan: practical, a little unglamorous, built for people who actually needed the waters rather than those who came to admire them.

The alkaline waters are known for their effect on nerves and muscles — the kind of benefit that accumulates over several nights rather than one afternoon. Tago no Ko Onsen carries a legend of Kobo Daishi's discovery, while Himehiko Onsen, reachable by shuttle bus from Kume Station, serves as the district's steadiest anchor. One arrives on the Iyo Railway, stepping off at Fukuonji or Kitakume, and the pace adjusts almost immediately. There are no grand entrance gates, no orchestrated arrival.

To stay several nights in Higashi Dogo is to inhabit a rhythm that belongs to the locals — the slow repair of the body, the unhurried morning, the sense that the hills around Matsuyama have been holding something modest and genuine in reserve.