There are many things I miss about Japan, but festivals have to be near the top of that list. This weekend marks the 368th anniversary of the first Kawagoe Matsuri, the main festival event in our former hometown.
If you’re in the area, take some time and check it out. Kawagoe is less than an hour from Tokyo by local trains. In the meantime, enjoy our posts from the 2014 festival and the 2015 festival.
Reaching the summit of Japan’s iconic Mount Fuji is often on the short list of activities for visitors, but few realize the small window of opportunity for novice climbers. At more than 12,000 feet of elevation, the terrain is only passable for about 8-10 weeks from mid-July to early-September.
The top of Japan’s tallest peak can be reached a few different ways, but most climbers attempt to arrive at the summit for the sunrise. Arriving by 4:30 a.m. requires climbing during the middle of the night. While it’s possible to make all of the arrangements yourself, it’s much simpler to book a tour through one of the many companies leading both local and foreign visitors to the top.
We made our summit in August 2014 and chose Willer Express as our travel company. With daily tours departing from near Tokyo’s Shinjuku Station, Willer Express provides bus transportation to and from Fuji’s 5th Station, an English-speaking guide, mountain hut lodging at the 8th Station, three meals and a visit to an onsen (hot springs).
With the 90ºF temperatures of the Tokyo summer, it’s hard to imagine you could be fighting off hypothermia less than 24 hours later. Having the right gear may be the most important consideration in making the climb an enjoyable experience.
Most tour companies offer an affordable gear package, which can be convenient for novice climbers or those traveling light. If you bring your own gear, consider the following items at a minimum:
Lightweight daypack with rain cover. Bring a bag just large enough to carry your gear. From Tokyo to Fuji’s summit, you’ll experience a 40-60ºF decrease in temperature, so you’ll need to be able to swap gear on and off along the way.
Waterproof jacket and pants. When it rains, it pours. Literally. On our summit, it started raining about 20 minutes before we reached the mountain hut at Station 8. By the time we arrived, we were soaked to the bone, even with our rain gear. Hut employees won’t allow you inside until you are dry and will greet you with leaf blowers and towels to keep the rainwater outside.
Waterproof hiking boots/shoes. With the steep ascent and descent, you’ll want properly-fitting hiking shoes with good traction. I’d recommend buying these beforehand and testing them in the wild rather than renting an ill-fitting pair of shoes on the morning of the climb. A pair of gaiters isn’t a terrible idea either to keep rain from entering via the tops of your shoes.
Cold-weather clothing. Poor clothing choices are one of the most common mistakes made by Fuji first-timers. Average temperatures at the summit are around 40ºF, but can feel much closer to freezing due to wind chill and the aforementioned rain. Dress in layers so you can add and remove as needed during the climb.
Hiking poles. Poles aren’t necessary for the ascent, but will come in handy on the long, steep descent. You can purchase a souvenir wooden pole and can have it stamped at each of Fuji’s stations to mark your progress. Make sure you have gloves if you choose the wooden pole as it’s more for looks than utility.
Hats. You’ll be climbing both in the sun during the day and in the cold at night. Consider a brimmed hat for keeping the sun away and a hat that will cover your ears for early-morning climbing.
Gloves. Bring warm, durable, waterproof gloves with good grip. I had warm gloves, but once they were wet, they were no longer warm. You’ll also be using your hands a lot near the final ascent to the summit, so they’ll need to stand up to sharp rocks.
Headlamp. You’ll need your hands free to navigate the rocks near the summit, making a headlamp a better choice than a handheld flashlight. One of my favorite sights was waking up at the mountain hut at 1:30 a.m. and seeing the endless headlamps coming up the trail behind us.
Sunglasses/sunscreen. Fuji is exposed to all the elements, especially the sun. Bring a good quality sunscreen and UV-blocking sunglasses.
Water and snacks. Our tour company recommended three liters of water per person for the entirity of the climb. You can carry it all with you or bring one and purchase additional bottles at stations along the way. While it’s more economical to bring your own, it might be worth the extra yen to lighten your load.
Change of clothes. Bring a change of clothing and shoes, especially if you choose a package that ends with an onsen visit. The ride back to Tokyo will be much more pleasant in a clean outfit.
Japanese yen. Mount Fuji is one of the few places in Japan where you’ll find pay toilets. At 200-300 yen ($2-3 USD) per turn, you’ll want to budget accordingly. You can also buy additional water, snacks and gear at each of the stations. Japan is a very cash-oriented society, so carrying large amounts of money is not unusual.
Camera and extra batteries. The views on the mountain are breathtaking and you’ll have plenty of opportunities to take photos. I don’t recall electrical outlets in the mountain hut, so make sure you have extra batteries or a portable charger.
Extras. If you are prone to elevation sickness, oxygen canisters can be purchased along the way, but you might consider bringing one with you in case canisters are sold out. In our group, the first case of elevation sickness from the thin air showed up around the 7th Station.
Stash your extra clothes, shoes and gear at the 5th Station. There are coin lockers at the 5th Station. I wish I’d stashed a complete set of dry clothes, including shoes, in one of those lockers. While the onsen was great, it was awful having to put wet clothes on afterward. It’s also a cheap way to lighten your load up the mountain.
Take the tour. Definitely spring for the tour company (we used Willer Express and would recommend them again) and take them up on their entire rental package. Mountain hut reservations often fill up quickly, but the tour companies have standing reservations.
Prepare for the rain and cold. I had a base layer, cotton shirt, DriFit pullover, fleece jacket and rain jacket and my teeth were still chattering at the summit. My gloves were soaked and freezing. My two layers of socks were the only thing standing between my toes and frostbite. Choose layering clothes as the temperature difference between the 5th Station and the summit is pretty extreme.
Check the calendar. The climbing season is short. If you’re planning to climb Fuji, make sure to schedule your trip between early July and mid-September. While you can still climb in the off-season, shops and huts are closed and trails are not maintained and the ascent can be dangerous for inexperienced climbers.
Two years ago, we set out on an amazing adventure resulting in stamps from 20 new countries in our passports and a lifetime of memories.
On March 23, our time in Japan came to an end. Looking back, it’s hard to summarize the experience. From the first days, sorting out internet service while getting to know our new neighborhood (post #1 on Cascadian Abroad!), to the last days as seasoned travelers making our way around Europe, we’ve seen things we never thought we’d see and met people we’d never have met in the U.S.
Upon returning from Europe, we had just two weeks left in Japan. Most of that time was spent packing bags and cleaning out our apartment. Fortunately, we were also able to touch base with some of our new friends we’d be leaving behind.
We met up with some of the students from the first year for dinner at a local izakaya and karaoke. They presented us with several gifts, including a rubber samurai wig for me. One of the students worked at the izakaya and organized several vegetarian options for us.
At karaoke, we sang mostly American pop songs, but at the end of the night, they sang a Japanese song called Sangatsu Kokonoka (March 9 in English, video below) and each of them took a turn singing a verse. It was sweet and touching.
The night before we left, our former neighbor Tomoko and her two girls showed up at our door with some going away gifts and an awesome drawing of us by her four-year-old. She and her family included us in hanami (cherry blossom picnic) and Kawagoe Festival last year and we’ll miss their kindness and generosity.
The next day, we said goodbye to Mrs. Nakano. When we moved into our apartment, she was one of the first to greet us, offering some furniture for our new home. Over the last two years, she’s kept an eye out for us, offering vegetables from her garden and stopping to talk with us whenever we’d pass by. She made our transition a lot easier simply by accepting us.
That afternoon, we finished checking out of our apartment. Two of the students from karaoke night drove over to take us to the bus station. We were loading our luggage into the car when another neighbor, Serika, and her son came around the corner. He had a look of shock on his face when he saw our bags going into the car. I’d left a note in their mailbox, but quickly jogged over to say goodbye in person.
The boy is learning a little bit of English at school, so he always says “Hello” instead of “Konnichiwa” when he sees us. Last summer, they invited us to do fireworks with them out in front of the house. We’ll miss their smiling faces.
When you introduce yourself to someone in Japanese, you say douzo yoroshiku onegai shimasu, which literally means please be kind to me. We couldn’t have asked for kinder friends and I hope we’ll have the opportunity to cross paths again in the future.
After a nine-hour red-eye flight from Tokyo to Los Angeles, a five-hour layover with increased security thanks to the events in Brussels and another flight from LA to Portland, it was good to be back on solid ground. Our friends surprised us in the terminal with their three girls (who grew so much over the last two years!) and they brought our car, which they’d taken great care of while we were away.
Driving for the first time in two years was strange, especially at night and in the rain after just a few fitful hours of airplane sleep. Our first stop was for Mexican food—it’d been a LONG time!—then onto my brother’s house, where my mom surprised us as well. We didn’t last too long before the bed called our names, but it was great to see everyone.
As we figure out our next steps, we’ll continue posting here at Cascadian Abroad. We still have lots of travel stories to tell and certainly won’t stop traveling now! While we get settled, I hope you’ll check out some of the older posts and say hello in the comments section below!
Yokohama is one of my favorite Japanese cities. Its unique development from the influx of foreign traders—Chinese, Americans and British in particular—give the port city a different ambience from its giant neighbor of Tokyo.
We hosted family for a short visit last week and immediately put Yokohama on the itinerary. Despite being bone-chilling cold, the sun was shining and we had some great light at dusk, leading to some inspiring photos. Enjoy Yokohama in Pictures…
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!
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.
Who would have guessed one of the coolest things we’d see in Hiroshima is a corporate car museum? Unbeknownst to us, Hiroshima is home of the Mazda Motor Corporation’s world headquarters and the company offers free tours of its in-house museum and assembly line.
The multi-story gray office building isn’t overly impressive from the outside. Inside, the lobby shines with that showroom look you’d find at most auto dealers. The 2016 model cars are all on display in the showroom; the new tire smell permeates the air and takes me back to my days washing cars at the Honda dealership the summer before college.
The waiting tourists ooh and ahh over the cars, each coated in Mazda’s sexy Soul Red paint job. Details about each vehicle are projected onto the floor, giving the experience a high-tech feeling. Everyone wants to take a turn sitting in the sleek 2016 Mazda Miata Roadster.
We’re told we’ll be taking a bus to the museum. It turns out the drab gray office building is just the trailhead to the main event.
Our guide gave a quick overview in English as we made the five-or-so minute trip to the museum entrance. The headquarters and factory are a small town within a town, complete with apartments for employees and its own private bridge crossing over the Enko River.
We watched a short film on the history of the company. Mazda started out as Toyo Cork Kogyo Co., Ltd in 1920, a struggling manufacturer of artificial cork. Jujiro Matsuda, Mazda’s founder and a wealthy water pump magnate, took over management of the company and turned its focus toward tool manufacturing.
In 1931, the company now known as Toyo Kogyo released its first vehicle, a three-wheeled motorcycle with a truck bed called the Mazda-go. It was sold under the Mitsubishi name and featured a unique combination of the Mazda name over the Mitsubishi three-diamond logo on its gas tank. The success of the trike sent the company down a new path—vehicle manufacturing.
After the end of World War II, Toyo Kogyo played a major role in the rebuilding of Hiroshima; its own factory heavily damaged by the bomb. The appearance of the Mazda-go around town in the days after the bombing was a boon to the city’s morale.
Over the years, the company continued to produce new vehicles with the Mazda branding, but it didn’t officially change its name to “Mazda” until 1984.
Our favorite part of the museum was one of the places photography was strictly prohibited—the factory floor. The massive assembly line pumped out vehicle after vehicle, using a combination of robots and humans to accomplish individual tasks. Dashboards were installed at one station and the windshield at the next. Large claws—like you’d find in a arcade UFO Catcher game—lifted the vehicles to another station where the engine would be raised into the vehicle from below.
I could have stayed there all day, impressed more by the amount of engineering that went into designing the assembly line itself than the vehicles it was building.
Back in the museum, we saw some of the artifacts of the design process. Once a vehicle design concept has been created, clay artists build scale models of both the interior and exterior. Once the design is approved, a full-scale plastic version is created, giving a better sense of some of the manufacturing issues that might be encountered.
Just before returning to the bus, we were taken to a window overlooking Mazda’s private port. We saw massive parking garages outside, full of recently-completed cars and SUVs. They’d be driven onto the waiting ships in the port to be taken to other parts of Japan as well as overseas. If you drive a Mazda, there’s a good chance it started its life right here in Hiroshima.
Reservations to visit the museum can be made online up to a year in advance, but we made ours just a couple days before. The tours only run Monday-Friday and the English tour starts at 10 a.m. The museum is easily reached by train from Hiroshima Station.
If you can’t make it all the way to Hiroshima, Mazda has partnered with Google to make parts of the tour available via Google Street View. You can see the Entrance Hall, the History wing, the Rotary Engine wing and the Technology/Future wings of the museum. Alas, to see the best part of the tour—the assembly line—you’ll have to visit in person.