The sunset on our first full day in Siem Reap, Cambodia from near Phnom Bakheng. The temple, built in the 9th century, only accommodates 300 people at a time at the top. We joined the rest of the late-comers snapping sunset shots through the trees.
More Photo of the Day posts from our December 2015-January 2016 trip to Siem Reap, Cambodia
Our first Christmas in Japan was all about observing the new traditions in the world around us. For our second Christmas here, we simply embraced it all in our own way.
Early December marks the beginning of illumination season. In the U.S., it’s common to decorate homes and even entire neighborhoods with sometimes elaborate lighting displays. In Japan, individual homes don’t really get into the act. Instead, shopping centers, parks, train stations and more light the winter skies with massive shows of moving lights and music. And while the Christmas displays in stores disappear the morning of December 25, the illumination shows stretch well into the new year.
This year, we visited Caretta Shiodome, widely considered to host the best illumination show in Tokyo. The theme for this year’s display, Canyon d’Azur, is reflected in the cold, blue lights that rise above the short path winding amongst them. Disney songs are the soundtrack for the light show, which plays every 20 minutes.
During one of the intermissions, a couple and their entire wedding party posed for photos in front of one of the lighted tree sculptures while Father Christmas officiated nearby.
A few days later, we kicked off party season at our next door neighbor’s place with several of the crew from TIU. It was a combination birthday/Christmas party, which made for some wacky decorations and outfits.
A couple days before Christmas, our monthly city newsletter arrived in the mail. The photo on the cover qualified as an instant classic, featuring Kawagoe’s sweet potato-shaped mascot Tokimo posing with Santa Claus at the City Hall. More importantly, it was photographic evidence that Santa was in Japan!
On Christmas Eve day, a selection of holiday-themed craft beers from around the world arrived at our doorstep. I had no idea our Kuroneko delivery driver worked for Santa! It was possibly the largest collection of hops in a single location in the entire city that day.
On the evening of Christmas Eve, we met up with some of last year’s students for dinner at the sushi place near our house. Three of them studied in America last year, so it was cool to see how their perspectives changed. I was also reminded of how much food college students can pack away in a single sitting. Those days have long since passed for me…
On Christmas morning, Santa slipped in a little gift for Viktoria in the form of Japanese two-toed socks called tabi. Unfortunately, there was no time to enjoy them as Christmas day in Japan is more commonly known as “Friday,” which also happened to be a work day this year.
That evening, we recreated the “traditional” Japanese Christmas dinner with a vegetarian spin on KFC’s fried chicken meal, featuring southern-fried tofu and buttermilk biscuits. After scouring the internet for other Christmas recipes, I also came up with potato salad shaped like a Christmas tree, trimmed with carrot stars and cucumber peel garland. And Christmas cakes. So. Many. Mini. Cakes.
Thanks to the global delays in shipping, goodies continued to show up at our door in the days following Christmas. Our old friends Frank, Justin Cheryl and Whitman came tucked into a box from my mom in the form of hot sauce, peanut butter cups, cookies and chocolate respectively. A card from my dad featuring Santa head over teakettle in the chimney contained a very generous gift card.
A bar of Apricot Wheat beer soap from my brother arrived the day after Christmas. I literally had the camera in hand, taking a picture of it for this post, when the doorbell rang. Santa’s Japan Post affiliate delivered two companion pieces made from Sierra Nevada and Samuel Adams beers. A note in an e-mail read: “Combining local beers so you feel at home, but soap so you both can lather and always smell like a Portlander.”
We wrapped up the Christmas season with a trip into central Tokyo’s Marunouchi district for the last night of illuminations at the restored Tokyo Station Marunouchi Building. In 2012, an impressive 4D projection-mapping display caused major traffic headaches due to the massive crowds, so subsequent displays have been more toned down.
Yet, large crowds still poured out of Tokyo Station. We were ushered like cattle from the station to the viewing area between cloth barriers held by event staff. We snapped some photos, then walked down Marunouchi’s Naka Dori shopping street through the remains of the event’s Christmas Market.
Christmas 2015 is now officially in the books and the New Year is right around the corner. Hope you all had a wonderful holiday season and best wishes for 2016!
Our road to Tokyo’s controversial Yasukuni Shrine started with empty stomachs.
It’d been months since we’d visited the gluttonous paradise of Loving Hut‘s vegetarian buffet. I loosened my belt, hopped on the train and headed for Tokyo’s Chiyoda ward. It’s hard to justify the nearly three-hour round trip just for lunch, so we figured we’d also check an item off our “to-see list” and hit up Yasukuni Shrine as well.
Lunch was even better than anticipated and I approached it with the vigor of a man facing his last meal. I was reminded of an early episode of The Simpsons, which also had a great joke about “fish bread” that sums up our typical eating-out experiences in Japan…
After the feast, it seemed prudent to walk the mile to Yasukuni Shrine. Approaching the main gate, we saw a couple tents set up selling used clothing. Then we noticed that the tents just kept going and going.
We’d lucked into the twice-a-month Yasukuni Shrine Flea Market. 150 vendors line the entry path to the shrine, hawking everything from the aforementioned clothes to pottery, books, toys and more. Secondhand goods are a rare find in Japan as it is, so stumbling upon a flea market is like finding gold at the end of a rainbow.
The prices were also lucky for Tokyo standards, with nice pieces of tableware going for just 300 yen (about $2.50 USD). Viktoria scored a pair of boots for just 200 yen ($1.65) from a vendor who was also a terrible negotiator. The price started at 400 yen, but when we noted they were a bit too small, she lowered the price to 300 yen. When we pointed out a small pull in the zipper, she dropped it to 200 yen. My guess for her negative-negotiating fervor is the boots are cursed… only time will tell!
Yasukuni Shrine itself isn’t any more spectacular than any of the other major shrines in Tokyo, but its history is far more polarizing. Established in 1869, Yasukuni enshrines the spirits of those who died in battle while fighting for Japan. At present, nearly 2.5 million people have been deified in the shrine.
The official stated purpose of the shrine is as as memorial to those soldiers, relief workers and factory workers who supported various war efforts. However, critics view the shrine as a monument to Japan’s imperial military past. The first soldiers to be enshrined fought for Emperor Meiji in Japan’s civil war (Boshin War), which effectively ended the Edo Period and shogunate rule in Japan.
Yet, it was the post-World War II enshrinements that cast the shrine in its current controversial light. More than 5,700 Japanese military personnel were convicted of war crimes by international tribunals in the years following the war. Class A charges were levied against the leaders who planned and directed the war, most notably General Hideki Tōjō, Japan’s prime minister and the man responsible for the bombing of Hawaii’s Pearl Harbor in 1941. The remaining ranks were charged with Class B and C infractions for “conventional” crimes as well as crimes against humanity.
War criminals were initially excluded from enshrinement in any Japanese shrine. In 1954, the government began to loosen the restriction and Class B and C criminals were enshrined at Yasukuni over an 8-year period beginning in 1959.
In 1970, the shrine resolved to accept the Class A war criminals for enshrinement, a decision that mostly flew under the radar at the time. However, the residing priest postponed the enshrinements until after his death. In 1978, the Class A criminals were enshrined in a secret ceremony.
Japan’s wartime emperor Hirohito refused to visit the shrine after the enshrinement; a close advisor wrote that the emperor was “displeased” with the decision to include the Class A criminals. His son, the current Emperor Akihito (who incidentally celebrated his 82nd birthday yesterday), has never visited the shrine.
A simple visit to the shrine can put public figures under unwanted spotlight. An October visit by two mid-level Japanese cabinet members led to official condemnations from the governments of China and South Korea, two countries who suffered greatly at the hands of the Japanese during the war. China’s Foreign Ministry publicly criticized pop star Justin Bieber after he was photographed at the shrine during a 2014 visit.
In November, a bomb exploded in a shrine restroom during the annual autumn festival. The bomb was believed to be a politically-motivated response to the remilitarization of Japan’s armed forces—a purely-defensive organization since the end of WWII.
As far as I know, the Chinese Foreign Ministry hasn’t publicly condemned our visit. The only real difference I noticed from any other shrine is that photographs were strictly forbidden. A solitary security guard waved off anyone attempting to photograph the shrine up close. The shrine’s website has strict rules about media coverage that apparently extends to the average visitor.
Yūshūkan, a military museum located on the shrine’s grounds, doesn’t do much to help the image of glorifying the war era. A statue of a tokko pilot—better known as a kamikaze pilot—stands outside the musuem. An A6M “Zero” fighter plane, similar to the ones that attacked Pearl Harbor, is on display in the museum’s front room.
Yasukuni raises an interesting question about how to embrace the questionable parts of a country’s past. Is it right to ignore the souls of two million soldiers who were just following orders, no different than any other soldier of any other nation during any other war?
Japan, for its part, has spent much of the last 70 years apologizing, but the current government is starting to back off that policy, much to the outrage of China, Korea and others. Short of Japan fully falling on its sword over WWII atrocities—effectively committing modern-day political suicide—the conflict between these countries isn’t going anywhere.
The sun shined brightly through the few orange and yellow leaves that remained on the barren winter maple trees in Yasukuni’s Shinchi Teien garden. War and controversy would be the furthest thing from anyone’s mind crossing the stone bridge over the garden’s pond.
A young couple dressed in traditional Shinto wedding clothing payed their respects at Yasukuni’s alter. Young archers practiced in the distance behind the shrine’s sumo arena, home to the annual spring wrestling tournament. The Nōgakudo stage was empty, but is often filled with traditional Noh plays and dance performances. The lively flea market began to quiet as vendors packed up their wares.
I don’t know the right answer for Yasukuni. The families of Chinese and Korean citizens who suffered during World War II have a right to be upset by the “glorification” of war criminals. Japanese who lost family members on the battlefield of not just WWII, but countless other wars, have a right to be upset that their loved ones aren’t allowed to rest in peace. Americans who lost loved ones at Pearl Harbor would be justified in cringing at the monuments to those responsible for taking their lives.
Maybe the right answer is that there isn’t one. To move forward, someone will have to be willing to leave the past behind. It will take the strength of nations, which is a lot to ask in this day and age.
In the process of documenting our experiences living in Japan over the last two years, I somehow failed to write a basic “This is where we live” post. So let’s remedy that!
Kawagoe’s post-Edo Period history began with its founding in 1889. In 1922, it became Saitama Prefecture’s first official city. Today, it’s Saitama’s third-most populous city—roughly the same size and population as Anaheim, California.
But Kawagoe’s history extends much further back. Located near the foothills of the Okuchichibu Mountains, it’s a rich agricultural region. The area played an important role in feudal Japan due to its central location in the Kanto Region, earning it the nickname “Koedo,” meaning “Little Edo” (Edo being the former name of Tokyo).
In 1545-1546, a massive battle took place at Kawagoe Castle between warring samurai clans. More than 85,000 soldiers from the Uesugi clan attempted to take the castle from the Late Hōjō clan. Just 3,000 Hōjō soldiers held off the attack until 8,000 reserves arrived.
Despite being significantly outnumbered, the Hōjō mounted a sneak attack in the middle of the night, ending not only the siege but also wiping out the Uesugi family. Kawagoe Castle became the western line of defense for Edo and the Kawagoe Domain earned its place as an important stronghold for the ruling Tokugawa shogunate during the Edo Period (1603-1868).
While the story may be the stuff of movies, it actually became the stuff of video games. The Siege of Kawagoe Castle was featured as a storyline in the 2010 Nintendo Wii game “Samurai Warriors 3.”
The preservation of Kawagoe’s history makes it a popular tourist destination. It’s an easy 30-minute train ride from Tokyo and offers something for everyone.
The centerpiece of the city is Toki no Kane, or the Bell of Time. The tower was originally built between 1624 and 1644. The original was destroyed by the Great Fire of Kawagoe in 1893 and rebuilt a year later. Today, it still rings at four key times during the day.
After the fire in 1893, fireproof warehouses built from clay and tile began to spring up all over the city. Kurazukuri Street retains the look with warehouses dating back to the 18th century, housing artisan shops, cafes, museums and more.
Kashiya Yokochō (Confectioner’s Row) is one of the most popular stops—certainly one of our favorites! On the narrow pedestrian alley, locally-run shops sell traditional candies, crackers and snacks. Shrimp-cracker sandwiches and 3-foot-long bread sticks are among the local specialties.
The pedestrian-only Crea Mall offers a more typical shopping experience just outside Kawagoe Station. In addition to smaller, locally-owned shops, you’ll find Gap, ABC Mart and Starbucks. It’s a great place for a little shopping, lunch or drinks.
We also seem to have an unusually-impressive collection of shrines and temples. Kita-in is the most famous, founded by Buddhist monks in 830 A.D. In 1638, a fire burned much of the temple. Then-shogun Tokugawa Iemitsu donated several buildings from Tokyo’s Edo Castle to the shrine to help rebuild. Edo Castle was largely destroyed in the Great Kanto earthquake of 1923, leaving the structures at Kita-in as the only remaining original buildings.
A collection of 500 stone statues featuring disciples of Buddha fill a garden on the temple grounds. Folklore suggests that if you visit in the middle of the night, one of the statues will feel warm to the touch. When you return in the daylight, you’ll find that statues resembles you. However, I’ve never seen the gates to the statue open, so I guess there’s no way to know for sure…
With New Year’s right around the corner, Kita-in and Naritasan Betsuin Temple are both great places to literally ring in the New Year as you can wait in line to gong the large bronze temple bells (ō-bonshō).
If you only have one day in Kawagoe, you can use one of the old-style Koedo Loop Buses to get around town. The bus stops at all of the landmarks and for just 500 yen ($4.13 USD), you can buy an all-day hop-on/hop-off pass. You can also pick one of the walking tours if you’re up for a lot of walking. The Seven Lucky Gods walking tour hits all the best temples, Confectionary Row, the warehouse district and the Bell Tower.
We live in the suburbs of Kawagoe, Saitama, about four miles from the city center. Despite choosing our apartment from some roughly-translated faxed floor layouts, we found ourselves in a perfect little neighborhood.
We have a great park just a couple blocks away and three large grocery stores within a 10-minute walk. The nearby bakery is a fun place to hang out on a Sunday morning and the baker often comes out of the kitchen to greet us personally before finding a little something extra to drop on our tray only after we’ve already paid.
We’d heard horror stories about the small sizes of Japanese homes. They certainly do exist, but not in our neighborhood. Our apartment is in the middle of a residential area with mostly single-family homes. Having watched some of them be built last spring, I know them to be mostly 1,400-1,600 square feet with three to four bedrooms and multiple living spaces. Regardless of size, Japanese apartments and homes use the available space very efficiently.
Check out some of the older posts featuring stories from daily life in Kawagoe.
In the U.S., ramen is a staple among poor college kids. A buck will get you three or four meals worth of freeze-dried noodles and too-salty seasoning packets.
Ramen in Japan is a different story. You can still buy the instant stuff, but for roughly the same price, you can head to one of a jillion ramen shops for the real thing. Here, ramen is an artform. It’s full of complex flavors created by labor-intensive processes.
The base is called dashi. It’s made by boiling aromatics like onions, garlic and ginger with konbu (dried seaweed) and katsuoboshi (dried, smoked fish shavings). Recipes are passed down through generations, refined over hundreds of years. In traditional-style restaurants, chefs are judged on the quality of their dashi. Dashi is subtle, but key to the essence of Japanese food as it serves as the basis for most Japanese recipes. It’s also part of the reason it’s difficult to be a non-fish-eating vegetarian in Japan.
The soup broth is typically made from pork. A thick white stock is made from simmering the bones, fat and meat for several hours. The broth is strained and added to the dashi, creating the core of the soup.
Ramen noodles are fresh, not freeze-dried. They’re made from kansui (an alkaline salt water) or eggs, giving them the durability to rest in a hot broth without disintegrating. They come in a variety of thicknesses, often depending on the region.
The toppings are what really differentiate ramen from region to region and chef to chef. A thin slice of pork is typically placed on top. Miso paste might be added, giving the broth a rich, saltier flavor. Korean chili paste can be added to create a spicy ramen. Ground pork might float in the bowl, adding another layer of flavor and texture. A salad with green onions and bean sprouts tossed in sesame oil is one of my favorite extras.
A soft-boiled egg is often included, although some shops just place a bowl of hard-boiled eggs on the counter. Soy sauce, raw garlic, chili oil and Japanese chili powder (shichimi) are common DIY additions provided by the shops.
Finding a good vegetarian ramen, even in Tokyo, is difficult. Strike good… just finding vegetarian ramen period is tough. The best is at T’s Tantan in Tokyo Station. Even non-vegetarians line up at all hours for their various vegan ramen options. The Ramen Museum in Yokohama also has a few tasty choices. But your corner ramen shop isn’t going to be much help. They take pride in their soup and aren’t really equipped to modify the broth for you.
Fortunately, making authentic-tasting vegetarian Japanese ramen at home is pretty easy. True to form, my recipe uses a homemade dashi and broth with storebought fresh ramen noodles. Outside of Japan, you should be able to find most ingredients at Trader Joe’s/Whole Foods-type stores or a local Asian market. It’s a great meal for these cold winter nights!
Serve with a deep soup spoon and chopsticks.
If you try it, leave a note in the comments and let me know what you think!
Recently we stumbled on a small grocery in central Kawagoe. In addition to locally-grown grains, they had also had a decent selection of organic products and even a couple vegetarian items! I had just “liked” them on Facebook (because I like them in real-life) when the flash of a logo caught my eye. The Kawagoe Farmers Market!
Most local events are advertised to, well, locals, meaning everything is in Japanese. The farmers market site is no different, but with a bit of translation work, I figured out it’s held monthly at Renkeiji Temple in the heart of the old town area called Koedo. Back home, spending a Saturday wandering around local farmers markets was one of our favorite activities. We’ve found a couple really good ones in Tokyo, but making the hour-plus trip into the city can be daunting. We were excited to check out this local option.
The market was bustling considering the cool and soon-to-be rainy weather. A local band performed at one end of the market; the music could be heard from a block away. Kids and adults alike toiled away at the craft tables, making Christmas ornaments, pomander balls (clove-poked oranges) or decorating reusable market bags.
Our heads swiveled back and forth, led by our noses, as market-goers walked by with lunches prepared from locally-grown ingredients. Soups, noodles, sweet potatoes, tea, coffee and sake.
The unforecasted rain didn’t dampen anyone’s spirits. The Japanese are magically prepared for rain in a way I’ve never seen anywhere else. Adorable children popped open equally-adorable umbrellas that engulfed their tiny frames. In the area with the food stalls, people ate with one hand while holding umbrellas over the table with the other.
We ordered a unique take on ramen for lunch. Thick noodles tossed in a homemade sauce and topped with thinly sliced raw onions and a special blended sauce made from wakame (seaweed) and capers.
A friendly local who spoke near-native English explained the mysterious seasonal produce to us. In addition to a beautiful head of purple cabbage, we bought a bag of oyaimo—Japanese taro root— and some sweet yellow carrots. A local farm offered free-range eggs. We bought a bubble-wrapped bag of 20 to go. We rounded out our purchases with some really flavorful black rice crackers and an organic black rice beer.
As we exited the shrine, I noticed a waffle stand that we’d seen on television a couple months ago, but never managed to stumble upon. One last snack for the day!
On Monday, my Facebook feed filled up with photos that vendors and visitors took at the market. Full bellies, full hearts and full smiles everywhere!
Last month, the guys over at BeerTengoku ran a contest offering free Japanese craft beer for simply connecting with them via the blog and various social media sites. Much to my surprise, I received an e-mail last week letting me know I was the winner of the contest!
BeerTengoku is easily the go-to English-language site for the burgeoning craft beer scene in Japan. It’s run by ex-pats who noticed the lack of information available in English and they’ve filled the gap admirably, featuring beer reviews, interviews with craft brewers and details about events all over the country.
My prize arrived last night and featured a great selection of six beers from breweries all over Japan. Once they’ve been enjoyed, I’ll make notes over at the Beer Journal. Here’s the lineup:
House IPA by Tamamura Honten Sake Brewery, Nagano Prefecture
Stout by North Island Beer, Hokkaido Prefecture
IPA by North Island Beer, Hokkaido Prefecture
Smoke & Fire Habanero Stout by Baird Beer, Shizuoka Prefecture
Red Ale by Iwate Kura Beer, Iwate Prefecture
Imperial Red Ale by Ise Kadoya Brewery, Mie Prefecture
Tradition trumping modernity brings me great joy. For more than 300 years, the Chichibu Yomatsuri (Night Festival) has been held annually on December 2 and 3. It doesn’t matter if those days fall on the weekend or, as they were this year, Wednesday and Thursday.
The midweek schedule didn’t stop visitors flocking from Tokyo and beyond out to the small town in the foothills of the Okuchichibu Mountains. The festival is considered one of Japan’s three great float festivals alongside those in the cultural titans of Kyoto and Nara.
The best part about night festivals is that they start around dinner time, so it’s a great excuse to pig out on festival food. There’s a lot of festival standards, but each town also has its own unique festival foods. In Chichibu, we saw a variety of dumpling soups and omusoba, which is an egg omelette wrapped around yakisoba noodles and topped with a sunny-side-up egg, ketchup and mayonaisse. It was kind of amazing.
December 3 is the main day of the festival. The parade features floats carried from Chichibu Shrine to the city hall where they’re displayed and used as stages for kabuki performances.
The float parade is lively with a group of young people leading the way with chants of “Ho-ryai!” (“Hooray!”). The massive float follows behind, performers waving lanterns on the stage built into the front and others hanging from the top, at least 20-feet above the ground.
Read an interesting perspective on the building of the floats at Sonic-Yoshi
The ornate floats, called “yatai,” are built using Japanese elm wood and weigh as much as 20 tons. They move slowly through the streets until they reach the intersection near Ohanabatake Station. Here they perform a ceremonial turning of the float called nonoji-mawashi, or “Turning in the Shape of No.” In this case, “no” is the character の.
The danger is palpable; the gasps from the crowd audible. It takes a dozen people using long wooden pillars to lift the end of the float enough that someone can crawl underneath and rearrange the direction of the wheels. Dozens more push the behemoth into its の-shaped turn. All the while, the float lists, leans and wobbles like a disaster waiting to happen.
Before, during and after the parade, the sky lights up with hundreds of fireworks. Hanabi (firework viewing) is usually a summertime event, so the show in Chichibu is unique in December. It also gave us an opportunity to try out the “Fireworks” setting on our camera, capturing some fun shots.
I find myself running out of superlatives for the things we’re so fortunate to experience in Japan. Chichibu is one of our favorite places in Japan (see here and here and here) and it just received another tick in the plus column.
Today, the Tokaido (literally “East Sea Road”) is made up of major highways and the Tokaido Shinkansen line, the world’s busiest high-speed rail line linking Japan’s biggest cities. If you’ve ever traveled between Tokyo and Kyoto, you’ve been on the Tokaido.
But the Tokaido has a long history. 400 years ago, it was the most important of the five roads linking the then-capital of Kyoto to Tokyo during the Edo Period (1603-1868). Travelers would traverse the 514-kilometer path by foot, stopping along the way at the 53 (later 57) post stations where they could rest, eat and purchase supplies.
The original 53 stations were captured in a series of ukiyo-e (wood block paintings) by Utagawa Hiroshige, the last great master of the artform. His collection, “The 53 Stations of the Tokaido,” ushered in a new era of landscape painting and is one of the most popular series of paintings in the world.
A couple weeks ago, we found ourselves on the Tokaido for the fall conference of the Japan Association for Language Teaching (JALT) in Shizuoka City. The city itself wasn’t incredible noteworthy, but it’s location on picturesque Suruga Bay plants it squarely in the middle of history.
Not much remains of the original road, but a hiking route still exists along Satta Pass—one of the most dangerous areas of the original road—between the 16th station at Yui and the 17th station at Okitsu. Since we were staying near the 18th station (Ejiri) in Shimizu, we decided to arrive a day early and walk a bit of the Tokaido.
Before heading out, we stopped for breakfast near Shimizu Station. We sat on a sidewalk bench facing the shops, enjoying our meal when I glanced over my shoulder. I nearly choked on my coffee when I saw the imposing Mt. Fuji filling up the background between the buildings. We rotated 180-degrees and finished our meal.
The plan was to follow the Tokaido from Ejiri to Yui. We popped into the tourist information center and asked for guidance on our proposed path. In typical Japanese fashion, we were given an answer to our specific question. However, more useful advice would have been to skip the stretch from Ejiri to Okitsu.
The three-mile walk to Okitsu wound through modern neighborhoods, past working warehouses and along the current Tokaido—a major highway. We were already tired by the time we reached Okitsu, but a quick stop for taiyaki got us going again.
Near Okitsu Station, we started to see people looking “hiker-ish” with their backpacks and comfy walking shoes, telling us we were probably on the right track. Even with the all-in-Japanese map we received at the tourist center, the start of the trail was tricky to find—and not just for us.
A Japanese couple had been about 100 feet behind us since Okitsu Station. We compared maps and notes, trying to find our way to the trail. Eventually, we took the road less traveled, heading up some stone steps along a narrow cement retaining wall where we found a set of stairs. Our new friends waited at the bottom for our signal… YES! We found the trail!
We followed the paved road up through the orchards, the trees plump with bright oranges ready for harvest. Finally we arrived at a proper trail, following it through a cemetery and up another hill. Before long, we came to the marker indicating the stretch known as Satta Pass. Just around the corner, we caught our first view of Mt. Fuji from the pass.
There is another famous collection of ukiyo-e paintings by Katsushika Hokusai called “Thirty-six Views of Mount Fuji.” We created our own version of this as there wasn’t a bad photo from the pass, which has two great viewing areas. A platform is set up with signage comparing the view from the pass to Hiroshige’s original painting.
We soaked in as much of the view as we could, then continued down the trail. The local orchard sold bags of mikan oranges for just 100 yen at a small rest area and parking lot and sold several bags while we caught our breath (including one to us!).
Views of the mountain continued to pop in and out between the orange trees. We passed hikers coming from the opposite direction, still full of energy and smiles as they were just getting started, likely ignorant to the hills that awaited them.
A group of older Japanese hikers caught up with us as we entered the old streets of Yui, which were reminiscent of the old part of Kawagoe. They had planned to make their way all the way to the mountain, but rain on Fuji cut their plans short. They were great walking companions for the stretch run, making chit-chat with us along the way.
We arrived at the Sakura Ebi (Cherry Shrimp) Street gate in front of Yui Station exactly five hours after our first glimpse of Fuji at breakfast. Walking in the footprints of history is exhausting work, the welcome sight of the station just as satisfying at it might have been in the 1600s.
On our last day in Hiroshima, we went off the beaten path to the small town of Saijō. Located a scenic 45-minute train ride from Hiroshima Station, Saijō is famous for being home to 10 of Japan’s best known sake breweries, earning it the title of Japan’s Sake Capital.
First things first. I owe sake an apology. When I had my first beer at, let’s say, 21 years old, I was not a fan. It was probably some garbage like Coors Light. But as I discovered craft beer, I found a love for the creativity and passion brewers put into their products. Each is unique, the character of the individual brewer represented in every beer.
I didn’t like sake when we came to Japan and frankly wasn’t interested in trying it until a few months ago. If you agree with me, you’ve probably only been exposed to table sake like I had been. It turns out the sake brewing industry is as diverse and creative as the American craft beer scene.
In touring six of the eight breweries in Saijo’s city center, we learned more about sake than we ever thought possible. There are strict guidelines for way rice is milled, how long the sake ferments and at what temperature. There are two distinct styles that have different flavor profiles from brewer to brewer.
First, the word “sake” itself isn’t entirely accurate. In Japanese, “sake” means “alcohol” or “liquor” and refers to all alcoholic beverages. I once asked the shelf-stocker at the grocery store where the “sake” section was. He pointed to the entire beer, wine, etc. cooler with wide arms outstretched.
If you want “sake” in Japan, you want nihon-shu, or Japanese liquor. You can also find shochu, a distilled spirit closer to brandy or vodka.
The quality of sake depends on how much of the rice bran has been milled away before the brewing process begins. For table sake, there are no minimum requirements for the milling, while the best quality daiginjo/junmai-daiginjo has 50-60% of the bran milled away. The rice is a special variety that is only used for sake—it actually tastes horrible on its own. More than 80 varieties of sake rice are grown in Japan.
Table sake is the lowest quality of sake. If you’ve ever had hot sake or sake from a large plastic jug, you’ve had table sake. It’s the most common, making up 80 percent of the sake market, and usually tastes closer to rubbing alcohol than something you want to kick back with.
For premium sake, production branches into two paths. Honjozo, Ginjo and Daiginjo are made with pure distilled alcohol added into the brewing process. It results in bright, fragrant and crisp flavors. The Junmai styles don’t contain any distilled alcohol, instead relying on the natural alcohol created by the fermentation caused by Koji mold. Junmai sake has a fuller flavor profile with a thicker mouthfeel.
Saijō knows sake is what brings the visitors to town, so as soon as you exit the gates at JR Saijo Station, you’ll find the visitor center offering maps (in English!) guiding the way to the city’s various breweries. You’ll be offered variations of this map at each brewery as well. We collected three different brochures before we started turning them down.
Sanyotsuru, a brewery that has been making sake in Saijō for more than 100 years, was our first stop. It’s blink-or-you’ll-miss-it building has a charming tasting room. The first taste is free, but each additional taste is only 5o yen (about 40 cents USD) and it’s worth it to add on. Plus, the tasting expert taught us a new word that would come in handy for the rest of the day: shiin or “sample a drink.”
From there, we walked to the center of town, arriving at Hakubotan.Hakubotan is the oldest brewery in town with origins dating back to 1675. Outside, their well offers free drinking water to passer-bys (one man was filling up his drinking water jugs to take home), the same water used to make the sake. The fresh spring water is part of what gives Saijō sake its unique flavor. The folks at Hakubotan weren’t quite ready for us on a Wednesday afternoon, but they broke out the bottles and offered three good quality sake samples.
Across the street, we popped into Saijotsuru. Saijō’s history is charmingly on display with the tall brick chimneys that were used in the traditional brewing process, but Saijotsuru is the only one that actually still uses its chimney in production. The overachiever in town, it’s unfiltered Junmai-Daiginjo has won 10 consecutive Monde Selection Gold Medals.
Saijotsuru was also the most generous in its samples. One other customer was in the tasting room and had likely been there for awhile based on the glow in her cheeks. In addition to the five bottles on the tasting counter, the tasting expert pulled a couple more bottles off the shelf for us to try. We were starting to get a little light on our feet after our visit.
We wobbled down the street another block to Kirei. We were met by an older man who gave us a bit of the side eye. He seemed really nervous and the vibe was a little odd. In hindsight, I think he was anxious about having to use his English. After a few minutes and a few questions about his sake, he started to lighten up a bit.
Kirei’s sake was unique in that it was a lot drier than the other breweries. The crisp flavor was a nice break from the sweeter varieties.
We walked to the end of the street where we were met by a goofy young man at Kamoizumi. He gave us a sample of their drip-pressed Junmai-Ginjo, which ended up being one of my favorite tastes of the day. He also told us Hillary Clinton had visited a couple weeks before and bought a bottle of $200 sake. While I couldn’t verify this visit in the news reports, it made a nice story.
We were about sampled out, but he suggested we make one more stop at Kamotsuru.
Kamotsuru is the Hiroshima sake, brewing under its current name since 1873. It uses Japan’s best rice and employs Japan’s best brewers. It’s been the favorite of Edo period feudal lords and was the first brewery to make premium sake available to the general public.
But for all of its history, Kamotsuru earned a new place in Japan’s popular culture thanks to a hastily snapped photo in 2014. U.S. President Barrack Obama was visiting Prime Minister Shinzō Abe in Tokyo and the pair dined at the famous Sukiyabashi Jiro sushi restaurant in Tokyo. (Side note: If you haven’t watched the wonderful documentary Jiro Dreams of Sushi, check it out ASAP.) A photo of Abe pouring Kamotsuru’s Daiginjo Tokusei Gold into Obama’s cup made the world news circuit and reignited the brewery’s popularity.
The photo appears several times in the tasting room as part of the marketing for the Daiginjo Tokusei Gold. And it worked as it was among the bottles we brought home with us. Each bottle features two gold foil flakes in the shape of cherry blossoms.
In addition to the samples at the breweries, the walk itself is rather enjoyable. Sakagura Dori—or Sake Storehouse Road—gives a taste of what life might have been like in the 1600s as the Edo-era lords came to enjoy the best sake in the world. Each of the breweries have painstakingly restored their buildings, including original features whenever possible. The bright white storehouses stand in contrast to the gray modern apartments and shops that now share space with them.
Saijō was a great way to wrap up our Hiroshima adventure, getting out of the city for a taste of the countryside. For more details on the city and the walking tour, head over the Saijō Sake website.