HIYORI WORLD / 日和世界

Category: Japan

  • 30 Minutes from Your Bullet Train Stopover: Authentic Inuyama Castle and Nagoya’s Everyday Local Ramen

    30 Minutes from Your Bullet Train Stopover: Authentic Inuyama Castle and Nagoya’s Everyday Local Ramen

    This article contains affiliate links.

    If you’re taking the Shinkansen between Tokyo and Osaka, consider getting off at Nagoya.

    Not as a destination in its own right — that’s a different argument. But Nagoya sits in the middle of the Golden Route, so you’re passing through anyway. And if you have a day to spare, there’s a town thirty minutes away by train with two National Treasures in it.

    The town is Inuyama. I’ve been many times, mostly because there’s a festival I go to every year and a reason to return each season.

    I’ll put the conclusion up front: stay the night. I’ll explain why at the end.

    Inuyama's old castle-town street lined with wooden shops, with Inuyama Castle on the wooded hill above
    The castle town, with the keep looking down from the hill.

    Nagoya Castle, or Inuyama Castle?

    Let’s be clear about one thing. On size, Nagoya Castle wins easily. Golden dolphins on the roof, exactly the Japanese castle you have in your head.

    But the Nagoya Castle keep is a post-war concrete reconstruction, and it’s currently closed to the public over seismic safety concerns.

    Inuyama Castle is an original. The wooden keep predates the Edo period and has survived intact — one of only five such castles in Japan. Himeji, Matsumoto, Hikone, Matsue, and Inuyama. Inuyama is the only one within day-trip range of Nagoya.

    The white keep of Inuyama Castle rising above green trees against a clear blue sky
    Inuyama Castle’s keep: the original, not a post-war rebuild.

    Honest impression from climbing it: the interior is surprisingly small. If you’re picturing Himeji, you’ll feel short-changed. But that’s the point. The keep is compact because it was built before castles started scaling up.

    The top floor has a balcony that runs right around the outside, looking over the Kiso River and the Nobi Plain. The railing is genuinely low. The “it’s scary” comments online aren’t an exaggeration. I was fine, but if heights bother you, don’t force yourself outside — the view from indoors is enough.

    Red torii gates spanning a stone stairway at a shrine near Inuyama Castle
    A shrine near the castle, lined with red torii.

    The entry fee just doubled

    Worth knowing before you go. As of 1 March 2026, admission went from ¥550 to ¥1,000. Close to double.

    The reasons are clear enough. Fire and disaster prevention work on the keep, historic-site maintenance, and — this is the interesting part — too many visitors. 650,000 people came in 2024, and over 690,000 in 2025, a record. Wooden buildings wear down just from people walking on them. Floors and stairs take the load. The castle also has its 100th anniversary as a National Treasure coming in a decade, and its 500th year of existence two years after that.

    A thousand yen makes you pause. But it’s a maintenance fee for something that has to last.

    A tunnel of red torii gates, with two visitors at the far end
    A tunnel of torii gates near the castle.

    Urakuen: let me be honest

    A short walk from the castle is the other National Treasure: a tea house called Jo-an.

    There are only three National Treasure tea houses in Japan. Tai-an in Kyoto, Mittan at Daitoku-ji, and Jo-an here. Tai-an requires an advance application; Mittan cannot be viewed at all. Jo-an is the only one you can simply turn up and see.

    Stepping stones across a moss garden at Urakuen, leading past a traditional wooden building
    Urakuen, the garden around the Jo-an tea house.

    That’s genuinely remarkable. It was built by Oda Urakusai, younger brother of Oda Nobunaga, and designated a National Treasure in 1936. You can’t go inside, but you can look in from outside. The layout is an unusual two-and-a-half mat daime, with a diagonal wall by the alcove, old calendar pages papered along the lower wall, and a window made of bamboo set tight together. Apparently.

    I say “apparently” because I didn’t look that closely.

    Here’s what I actually experienced: there was almost nobody there. It isn’t popular. And as a garden, having walked a lot of Kyoto, it honestly didn’t move me much.

    Admission is ¥1,500 — more than the castle. That’s a lot to pay on its own.

    So my verdict is this: not worth ¥1,500 by itself. But there are three ways to pay less, and then it’s worth going.

    More on those shortly.

    A small roofed gate framed by maples and flowering azaleas in the Urakuen garden
    A garden gate at Urakuen.

    The castle town isn’t what I expected

    Below the castle runs the old merchant street, and this is where the eating happens.

    But what “castle town” suggests and what’s actually on the street are two different things.

    No dango. No gohei-mochi. No dengaku. There may be candied apples somewhere, but what I saw was candied fruit skewers. Sweets and cafés, everywhere. Restaurants too. Overall it’s the kind of street a Japanese teenager would enjoy, full of places designed to photograph well.

    If you arrive expecting Edo-period street food, you’ll be surprised. But that’s not a complaint. As a street for eating your way along, it’s probably better now than it would have been.

    One thing amused me: Hida beef skewers are everywhere. Hida beef is a Gifu brand and this is Aichi. It’s crossed the prefectural border and become a fixture. The brand sets its bar at meat quality grade 3, which is wide enough that around 10,000 head qualify annually. That volume is why it ends up as street skewers. A brand that only certifies A5 and B5 could never fill a street at this price.

    Visitors walking along Inuyama's castle-town street between traditional wooden buildings under a blue sky
    The castle-town street: sweets and cafés rather than Edo-era snacks.

    Weekdays are quiet

    I went on a weekday and it wasn’t crowded. Enough room to walk slowly and eat without queueing.

    There were still tourists — I heard Chinese and Korean, and saw several people who looked Western.

    Over half of all foreign visitors to Aichi Prefecture concentrate in four places: Nagoya Castle, the area around Nagoya Station, Sakae and Osu. Getting visitors out into the wider prefecture is an acknowledged problem for the region. Inuyama sits outside that cluster — but it’s been found, at least to the extent that you hear several languages on a Tuesday.

    Which also means weekends are a different story. It’s a castle that takes 690,000 visitors a year.

    Three ways to pay less

    Here’s the part I said I’d come back to.

    The Meitetsu “Inuyama Castle Town Ticket”

    A package ticket from Meitetsu railway. ¥1,950 from Meitetsu Nagoya Station. It contains:

    • Discounted return rail fare
    • Inuyama Castle admission (¥1,000)
    • Urakuen discount voucher (¥1,500 → ¥1,100)
    • Castle town coupons (14 participating shops, three uses)

    The return fare plus castle admission alone roughly covers the price. The Urakuen discount and the food coupons come on top.

    The rail portion and castle ticket are valid across two consecutive days, so it works for an overnight trip too. Coupons run until 1 April 2027.

    There’s also an app version (Meitetsu’s CentX) at ¥1,840, slightly cheaper, but restricted to the Meitetsu Nagoya–Inuyama section.

    The castle + Urakuen combination ticket

    If you’re driving, buy the combined castle and Urakuen ticket on site for ¥2,000. Bought separately they come to ¥2,500.

    Stay at the hotel next door

    The third way involves accommodation, so it comes later in this article.

    The Inuyama Festival at night

    An Inuyama Festival float covered in hundreds of glowing paper lanterns against the night sky
    After dark, every float is covered in lit lanterns.

    I go to the Inuyama Festival every year with my family. It’s inscribed on UNESCO’s Intangible Cultural Heritage list.

    There’s a daytime programme, but I only go at night. Once it’s dark the floats are lit with lanterns, and the atmosphere is on a completely different level. Roughly 18:30 to 21:00.

    You don’t need to find a viewing spot. Food stalls line the street all the way from the station to the base of the castle, and everyone simply walks it. The floats come toward you. There’s no timetable to memorise, no position to secure at 4pm.

    The stalls themselves are, honestly, the same lineup you’d find at any Japanese festival. Though there was grilled sweetfish — the town sits on the Kiso River, so that one belongs here.

    A tall lantern-covered float moving along a street of old houses at night, with crowds watching
    No need to find a spot. The floats come to you.

    Cherry blossom along the Gojo River

    Cherry trees lit in purple arching over the Gojo River at night, with a red bridge in the distance
    The Gojo River after the lights come on.
    Illuminated cherry trees in pink and blue lining both banks of the Gojo River at night
    The blossom follows the river for kilometres.

    Fifteen minutes by car from Inuyama, the Gojo River runs through the plain, and in spring it becomes a corridor of cherry trees.

    This isn’t a single viewing spot. The blossom follows the river continuously from Inuyama down to Iwakura.

    I go in daylight and after dark. At night it’s lit, and the scene is entirely different.

    One detail worth noting: here it’s food trucks rather than traditional stalls. Wooden festival floats and lantern-lit stalls in April; food trucks under the blossom a week or two later. Same area, completely different idea of what a crowd should look like.

    Cherry blossoms glowing purple under night illumination
    Same trees, a completely different scene after dark.
    A masked Noh performer in a red costume on an outdoor stage beneath cherry blossoms lit in blue
    Noh under the illuminated blossoms.

    Three places to stay, all different

    This is what I meant at the start about staying the night.

    Inuyama is thirty minutes from Nagoya, so a day trip works. But the best of this town happens after dark. The festival peaks at night. The cherry blossom is better lit. And the riverside inns look straight at the castle.

    I haven’t stayed at any of these — they’re above what I’d spend on a town I can drive to. For someone who’s come a long way, the calculation is different.

    Hotel Indigo Inuyama Urakuen opened in 2022, part of IHG’s boutique brand. Inuyama Castle is directly in front of the lobby. There’s a natural hot spring on site, Hakutei-no-Yu, the only one in Inuyama. And guests get free access to Urakuen — which is the third way to avoid that ¥1,500. Seven minutes on foot from Inuyama-Yuen Station.

    The modern exterior of Hotel Indigo Inuyama Urakuen Garden, with balconies on each floor, under a blue sky
    Hotel Indigo Inuyama Urakuen Garden.

    Akariya Geihanro is the opposite proposition. Founded in 1919, the oldest inn in Inuyama, long favoured by writers and artists. It’s been rebuilt as ten suites, each with a semi-open-air bath, sitting between the castle and the Kiso River with views of both. From ¥56,100 per night.

    The stone entrance wall of Akariya Geihanro bearing the inn's name, beneath tiled roofs
    The entrance to Akariya Geihanro.

    SHUKU opened in April 2025 — a hotel converted from old townhouses, inside the castle town itself. It occupies two separate buildings; one was where the brewers and craftsmen of a sake house once worked and lived, and the red-ochre plaster walls and exposed beams have been left as they were. One room is a converted storehouse, entered through a garden. There’s a Japanese restaurant attached, Kokon, serving a local liqueur made from honeysuckle. The rooms have no television and no clock — that’s deliberate. From around ¥22,130.

    Modern international, century-old ryokan, or restored townhouse. Having all three in one small town is unusual.

    For balance: these aren’t the only options. There’s a small hotel near Inuyama-Yuen Station from around ¥4,400 a night, and a business hotel four minutes from the west exit of Inuyama Station. The town isn’t only expensive.

    Check availability and rates at Hotel Indigo Inuyama Urakuen on Booking.com Check availability and rates at Akariya Geihanro on Booking.com Check availability and rates at SHUKU on Booking.com

    Now the ramen

    The sightseeing section ends here. From this point it’s entirely about food.

    Three restaurants, framed as “if you’re staying in the Nagoya area.” None of them are tourist restaurants. This is what local people actually eat.

    Full disclosure on my palate: I like my broth heavy. Refined, delicate cooking mostly goes over my head. Garlic makes anything taste better to me. Read the rest with that in mind.

    Sugakiya

    Almost every shopping-mall food court in this region has a Sugakiya in it.

    A bowl of Sugakiya ramen with the ramen fork on the rim, next to a small bowl of mixed rice on a food-court tray
    Sugakiya ramen, the famous fork, and the rice set.

    For me this is the foundation of what ramen tastes like. Pork bone broth with fish and kelp stock folded in — wafu tonkotsu — and I’ve eaten it since childhood. Wherever I eat ramen in Japan, I compare it to this without meaning to.

    I still eat it most months. As a child with family, then with friends, now with family again. It works with anyone.

    Here’s the part that makes the case better than I can. I take my primary-school-age child around to well-known ramen restaurants. Good ones, all over the country. And according to them, Sugakiya is still the best.

    My own judgement is contaminated by nostalgia and I know it. But children don’t have nostalgia. Having eaten the famous places, still picking Sugakiya is a fairly strong data point.

    In food courts, Sugakiya frequently has the longest queue. Two reasons, I think: children like the taste, and adults can live with the price.

    On that price — I remember it being a bit over ¥200 when I was small. That’s more than thirty years ago. It rose to ¥330 in 2022, ¥390 in 2023, ¥430 in 2024. Three consecutive increases, which is unsurprising given what eggs, pork, seafood and labour have done.

    And it’s still ¥430. Among Japan’s major ramen chains, that remains at the very bottom of the price range.

    Sides and desserts have held steady. Soft serve is ¥190. Ramen plus soft serve comes in under ¥650. That ice cream is good, generously sized, and cheap — and I still order it as a middle-aged man. The five-grain rice comes as a set.

    One more thing. Sugakiya has a famous utensil: a fork and spoon fused into one, the “ramen fork.” I have never once used it to pick up noodles. I drink the broth with it. I owned one of the original ones personally.

    Ramen Fuku

    Founded in 1978, eleven branches concentrated in Nagoya. I was recently at the Owariasahi branch; I also go to the one in Moriyama Ward.

    A bowl of ramen at Ramen Fuku buried under a mound of bean sprouts and green onion
    Fuku with extra vegetables. The noodles are down there somewhere.

    My order never changes: regular ramen, extra vegetables, firm noodles.

    The vegetable upgrade is free and it arrives as a mountain. Here’s the trap: when it’s piled that high, it takes a long time to reach the noodles. You eat down through the vegetables while the noodles wait. So you order them firm from the start. That’s learned the hard way.

    On volume: the vegetables leave no room for rice or gyoza. I’m not a small eater. They still don’t fit.

    There’s a spicy miso-garlic paste on the table and it matters. Use it to shift the flavour partway through, or eat it with the vegetables. Whether that condiment exists changes the whole restaurant.

    Gifu Tanmen

    Plenty of branches across Aichi and Gifu, and I’ve been to a lot of them.

    A bowl of salt-based tanmen with cabbage and pork, topped with a dollop of red chili paste
    Gifu Tanmen: a clear broth with far more garlic than it looks.

    It looks like a clear, light salt-based ramen, but there’s a serious amount of garlic in it. Pork and vegetable sweetness with a garlic edge running through. More going on than the clarity suggests.

    You choose your spice level. I order above standard, and even level three feels milder than the menu implies. If you’re not spice-averse, go a level up from whatever you were going to pick.

    There’s vinegared bean sprouts on the table, free refills. They lighten the bowl and add bulk.

    I get the impression it has a lot of female regulars, and I suspect the reason is that it’s structurally very close to a hot pot. Vegetables in a salt broth. Put like that, it’s basically nabe with noodles. Extra noodles are available, so nobody leaves hungry.

    What the three have in common

    Writing this out, I noticed something. All three are restaurants where you finish the dish yourself, at the table.

    Fuku’s spicy garlic miso. Gifu Tanmen’s vinegared sprouts and spice scale. Sugakiya doesn’t have table condiments as such, but that fork hands the method over to you.

    I do the same thing in Fukuoka. When the second serving of noodles arrives, I add tare, mustard greens, garlic. First bowl as the restaurant made it; second bowl mine.

    Tourist food writing usually asks what to eat. Local restaurants, I think, put their culture into how.

    Before you go

    Mobile data. Opening hours and closing days here often live only on social media. Having data from the moment you land removes real friction. I use Airalo.

    Travel insurance. World Nomads covers travellers who are already abroad, which helps if you didn’t sort it before leaving.

    Browse Inuyama day trips, passes and tickets on Klook


    So, why stay the night.

    You can do Inuyama in half a day. Climb the castle, walk the street, take the train back. It works.

    But the good parts of this town are clustered after dark. The festival floats light up once the sun goes down. The cherry blossom along the river changes completely under the lights. And from a riverside room, you look out at a National Treasure. A day trip gets you none of that.

    Two National Treasures. A castle town that’s quiet on weekdays. Blossom running for kilometres along a river in spring, and lantern-lit floats in April. Three genuinely different places to sleep.

    And the locals, queueing in a food court for a ¥430 bowl of ramen.

    You’re passing through anyway. Give it a night.

  • The Ultimate Hida Region Travel Guide: Takayama to Shirakawa-go

    The Ultimate Hida Region Travel Guide: Takayama to Shirakawa-go

    This article contains affiliate links.

    Shirakawa-go is a winter place. That’s the image, and it isn’t wrong — thatched roofs buried under snow are genuinely absurd to look at. I once stayed until closing on a heavy snow day, and when the lights came on inside those houses after dark, it stopped being the place I’d walked through that afternoon.

    But this corner of Japan is not a one-season destination. Spring, summer and autumn each look completely different, and all of it sits within driving distance of Nagoya.

    So this article doesn’t split by season. It puts all four in one place.

    Takayama: an old street and a lot of eating

    Being honest about it, the sights in Takayama are concentrated around the old merchant district. Walk it, and then it’s time to eat.

    Hida beef is worth understanding properly

    Hida beef isn’t just “cattle from Gifu.” It’s a defined brand with an audit trail.

    To be sold as Hida beef, an animal must be Japanese Black raised in Gifu Prefecture for at least 14 months, by a farm registered with the Hida Beef Brand Promotion Council, and graded by the Japan Meat Grading Association at meat quality grade 3 or above with a yield grade of A or B. Anything that misses those marks is sold under a different name, Hida wagyu. Same prefecture, same breed, different label.

    The brand traces back to a single bull, Yasufuku-go, brought from Hyogo in 1981 and still called the father of Hida beef. The council formed in 1988, and in January 2023 the brand received GI (Geographical Indication) protection.

    Its reputation was made in 2002. At the 8th National Japanese Beef Ability Exposition — the “Wagyu Olympics,” held once every five years — Hida beef took the top prize in the breeding cattle division and the best carcass award in the meat division, both at once. It repeated the carcass win five years later.

    I’ll be straight, though: in the most recent competitions Miyazaki and Kagoshima have been stronger. Miyazaki beef has taken the top prize four editions running. Hida beef is not the current national champion.

    Why it still matters

    If you rank Japanese beef brands by how narrow their standards are, Hida beef isn’t at the top.

    Saga beef requires grade 4 or above plus a marbling score of 7 or higher. Sendai beef only accepts A5 and B5. Matsusaka beef is restricted to virgin females. Kobe beef is a subset of Tajima cattle that clears a separate bar. Ishigaki beef has to be raised at least 20 months in the Yaeyama Islands. All of them are tighter gates than Hida’s grade-3 minimum, which also accepts both steers and virgin females.

    Here’s why I think that’s a feature rather than a flaw.

    Around 10,000 head qualify as Hida beef each year, and roughly a third of those are A5. The brand holds quality at the top while producing enough volume to actually sell. That’s why Takayama’s old streets are lined with Hida beef skewers, Hida beef nigiri, Hida beef rice bowls and Hida beef croquettes, at prices a tourist can absorb. A brand that only permits A5 and B5 cannot fill a street like that.

    I tried to get into a yakiniku restaurant in Takayama and found a queue of foreign visitors running out the door and up the staircase to the second floor. That queue is the point. Wagyu here isn’t a distant luxury you save up for — it’s something you can just go and eat.

    Hoba miso and the mitarashi problem

    Hoba miso is sweet-savoury miso grilled on a magnolia leaf and eaten over rice. It’s dangerous with a bowl of white rice in front of you.

    Then there’s mitarashi dango. In Hida, mitarashi is soy-sauce flavoured and not sweet at all. If you’ve had the sticky sweet-glazed version elsewhere in Japan, the first bite is a genuine shock.

    It’s absolutely worth trying. Though if I’m being honest about my own preference, I’ll take the sweet version every time. The Hida one is a here-only experience rather than my favourite.

    Hida-Furukawa and Your Name

    Fifteen minutes north of Takayama by train is Hida-Furukawa, sometimes called Takayama’s inner parlour. White-walled storehouses line the Seto River, where carp swim from spring through autumn. They’re moved to a different pond over winter, so in the snow season the water is empty.

    This is Your Name territory.

    Full disclosure: I love that film. It hit me about as hard as Titanic did. The RADWIMPS soundtrack is welded to the story so precisely that the opening bars pull the scenes back into your head.

    One thing worth getting right, though. Itomori, the town Mitsuha lives in, is fictional, and the director has said there’s no single real model for it. The lake most often named as inspiration for Lake Itomori is Lake Suwa in Nagano, and it’s generally understood to be a composite of several lakes rather than one place.

    What Hida-Furukawa actually is, is the side of the story where Taki goes searching. Those locations are real and precisely drawn: the waiting room and platform at JR Hida-Furukawa Station, the Hida City Library where Taki pores over records, Ketawakamiya Shrine. A little further north in Miyagawa there’s the distinctively roofed bus stop too.

    Standing on that platform does the thing. Every photo I took in Furukawa is from there.

    For a place to stay, Yatsusankan. Founded in the Ansei era, it’s three connected buildings — the Shogetsu-ro from 1905, the sukiya-style Kogetsu-ro from the early Showa period, and the Kangetsu-ro from 1997. The buildings themselves are Registered Tangible Cultural Properties, and it’s a six-minute walk from the station. Not many places let you sleep inside a heritage listing.

    Check availability and rates at Yatsusankan on Booking.com

    Shirakawa-go works best just after snow, not during

    The village was inscribed as a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 1995, and several gassho-zukuri houses are open inside. Wada House is ¥300, Kanda House ¥400, Myozenji ¥300. Kanda House lets you climb up into the roof structure, which is the part you cannot possibly understand from outside. There are cafés in the village, which matters when it’s below freezing.

    If you’re going in winter, aim for just after a snowfall rather than during one. That’s when the roofs carry the clean layer of snow you came to see.

    The light-up has changed, though, and this is the single most important planning note in this article.

    From 2026 the winter light-up is fully reservation-only, ticketed, and held just four times a year. Without a ticket you must leave the village in the late afternoon even if you’ve been there all day. The walking route to the observation deck closes at 16:10. Observation deck tickets are not sold separately at all — you either stay overnight in the village (allocated by lottery) or join a bus tour that includes one.

    You cannot turn up and see this. Plan months ahead. Temperatures run around -10°C.

    Parking is its own event. When I went, tour buses were stuck in the snow and unable to move. The village now runs a parking reservation site and a live congestion tracker, which tells you how bad it had become.

    Spring: cherry blossom and lift passes at the same time

    Once the snow melts, Takayama’s streets become easy walking again, and Shirakawa-go with green around it barely looks like the same village.

    But the best thing about spring here is this: while the blossom is out down in the valleys, the ski resorts are still running.

    Takasu Snow Park typically operates into late April, and the resort itself insists March onward is still high season. A spring park is built at the summit. The café at the top, at 1,550m, occasionally looks out over a sea of cloud.

    Blossom in the morning, snowboarding in the afternoon. That’s what a prefecture with this much vertical gets you.

    Summer: Kamikochi, and being chased by sheep

    Summer in Hida is cool, and Kamikochi is the reason to come.

    First, the rule that catches people out. Private cars cannot enter Kamikochi at any time of year. From the Takayama side you park at Akandana; from the Matsumoto side, Sawando. Then it’s a shuttle bus or a taxi. There is no version of this where you drive in.

    I stayed in Takayama and did Kamikochi as a day trip, which I’d recommend — lodging inside Kamikochi is limited and expensive.

    Kappa Bridge is a wooden suspension bridge, and the view of the Hotaka range from it is the postcard shot. The Azusa River underneath is startlingly clear. Note that Kamikochi is both a national park and a designated Special Place of Scenic Beauty and Natural Monument, and one of its rules is simply don’t step off. Leaving the boardwalk to get down to the riverbank breaks it. Look, don’t wade.

    Then there’s the Kamikochi Imperial Hotel. Red triangular roof, log-cabin exterior — I honestly assumed it was a pension the first time I saw it. It is in fact Japan’s first full-scale mountain resort hotel, opened in 1933, and a night there costs accordingly.

    You don’t have to stay to go in. The lobby lounge is open to non-guests for coffee and cake, made with Kamikochi spring water. The mantelpiece at its centre is the hotel’s symbol, and in colder months a bellman performs a lighting ceremony at 5pm. For anyone doing Kamikochi as a day trip, it’s the best possible place to sit down.

    For high-country summer, there’s also Makiga-no-Sato up on Hirugano Plateau in Gujo. Lots of animals, open meadows, and sheep that will chase you across them. Genuinely chase you. The adults panic more than the children.

    Autumn: the Shinhotaka Ropeway

    In October I rode the Shinhotaka Ropeway, in the Okuhida hot spring region.

    It’s the only double-decker gondola in Japan, climbing to an observation deck at 2,156m. During the autumn colour season the upper slopes turn first while the lower ones are still green, so the same ride looks different week to week.

    And when you come down, you’re standing in Okuhida — so you go straight into an onsen. Autumn here has a very satisfying order of operations.

    Browse Takayama and Shirakawa-go day trips, passes and tickets on Klook

    Winter: for people who ski, and people who don’t

    I’ve been to most of the ski areas in Gifu and Nagano. I snowboard.

    The two I go back to are Washigatake and Takasu Snow Park. Takasu opened in 1999 and is the largest resort in western Japan, with an Italian-built 15-person gondola and two halfpipes. In peak season you can cross over the summit into neighbouring Dynaland.

    One practical note: Takasu has no night skiing. If you want to ride after dark, that’s Dynaland, which runs until 23:00 daily from late December to late March.

    Takasu, Dynaland, Hirugano Kogen, Washigatake and White Pia Takasu share a season pass. They’re packed that closely together.

    Something else I noticed: there aren’t many Japanese people at Takasu. A lot of the visitors appear to be from parts of Asia where it doesn’t snow, which gives it a different international character from Hakuba or Niseko.

    Now, the people who don’t ski.

    Makiga-no-Sato stays open in winter, and it is not a ski resort. Sledding and snow tubing are the main activities, so you can play in snow without ever putting boards on. The animals are still there in winter, and there’s an onsen on site.

    I went during Lunar New Year and the place was full of Taiwanese families. For people from somewhere it doesn’t snow, snow is something you touch rather than something you slide down. The idea that you need to ski in order to visit a snow resort turns out to be entirely in our heads.

    There are also stylish cabins with saunas near the slopes, rented by large groups who can make as much noise as they like. No hotel neighbours to worry about. Sensible.

    The onsen are probably the real reason to come

    I should declare an interest: I’m a serious sento and super-sento enthusiast. I’ve worked through a lot of baths. With that said.

    Gero Onsen is, frankly, a plain town. There’s no spectacle to it. But the water is excellent — alkaline simple spring, pH 9.18, source temperature 84°C. Colourless, barely any smell, and it leaves your skin noticeably smooth, which is why it’s known as a “beauty bath.” Alongside Kusatsu and Arima, it’s one of Japan’s three great hot springs.

    I went in after watching fireworks in the depths of winter, shaking with cold. Afterwards I walked outside and stayed warm from the inside out, no chill at all. That impressed me more than I expected it to.

    The fireworks are “Winter Gero Onsen: Hanabi Monogatari,” launched every Saturday from January to March, 20:30, for ten minutes, from the riverbank below Gero Bridge. Each week has its own theme tied to the season — coming-of-age, Valentine’s, exam-success prayers, the Doll’s Festival, farewells.

    If you dislike the crush of Japan’s summer fireworks festivals, this is the better version. Ten minutes and done.

    The town also sells a bath-hopping pass that gets you into the baths of participating ryokan, so you can use the good hotel baths without staying the night.

    Check availability and rates at Suimeikan on Booking.com

    A note on Funsenchi, the open-air bath in the river. It used to be exactly that: a rock pool on the Hida River, fully visible from the bridge above. That ended. Since December 2021 swimwear has been mandatory and bathing is no longer permitted; it now operates as a foot bath. Worth knowing as history, not as a plan.

    Okuhida Onsen-go covers five hot spring areas — Hirayu, Fukuji, Shin-Hirayu, Tochio and Shinhotaka — and the Shinhotaka Ropeway sits inside it. It’s also the transfer point for Kamikochi, so it fits into the route without a detour.

    Shirahone Onsen is technically in Nagano, but it’s 70 minutes by car from Takayama IC and about an hour from Kamikochi via the Sawando bus terminal. Same circuit, different prefecture. It sits at 1,400m inside Chubu-Sangaku National Park, and the water is a hydrogen sulphide spring. It emerges clear and turns white as it sits — that milky colour is the water reacting with air.

    The famous bath here is the large mixed-gender open-air pool at Awa-no-Yu, founded in 1912, fed by 1,730 litres per minute, the highest flow in Nagano. If “mixed bathing” sounds alarming, understand how it’s actually arranged: women have a separate changing room and separate entrance, and bathing garments are provided. The water is opaque and the pool is very large, so encounters are rare. Day visitors can use it.

    The water runs around 38°C, cool by onsen standards, and carries dissolved carbon dioxide that forms fine bubbles on your skin. Cool water in winter takes some resolve, but it also means you can stay in for a long time.

    Ski-area onsen are cheap, too. Washigatake’s Washi-no-Yu is ¥500, and the hotel next to Dynaland does day bathing for ¥600.

    Photo by Tayawee Supan on Unsplash

    Driving here: what to know

    Straight answer: this region is difficult without a car.

    Takayama, Shirakawa-go and Gero are connected by public transport, but once Makiga-no-Sato and the ski areas are in your plan, bus timetables start dictating your trip. I drive.

    Three exceptions and traps:

    Kamikochi cannot be driven into. Akandana from the Takayama side, Sawando from Matsumoto. No workaround.

    Shirakawa-go parking is brutal in winter. Bad enough that coaches get stuck. The village runs a parking reservation site and a live congestion map — check before you set off.

    The light-up cannot be seen without a reservation. Saying it again because it’s the thing people get wrong.

    Before you go

    Mobile data. Half the places here publish their hours and closing days only on social media, so having data from the moment you land removes real friction. I use Airalo.

    Travel insurance. Mountain regions, snow driving, and long distances from major hospitals. World Nomads covers travellers who are already abroad, which helps if you didn’t arrange anything before leaving.


    After all of that, the thing I like most is sitting in an outdoor bath while it snows.

    It isn’t really about the heat. It’s the atmosphere. Steam going up, snow coming down through it, and almost no sound at all. Snow collecting on your head, your face cold, everything below your neck hot.

    At night it’s better again. Just the snow showing faintly in the dark, and your sense of time quietly going away.

    Cherry blossom and lift passes in spring, cool air in Kamikochi in summer, a ropeway through autumn colour — all good. But whichever season you come, the day ends in hot water.

    That’s what “there’s no wrong season here” actually means.

  • Fukuoka Ramen Guide: Local Tonkotsu Shops and Why Ichiran & Ippudo Reign Supreme

    Fukuoka Ramen Guide: Local Tonkotsu Shops and Why Ichiran & Ippudo Reign Supreme

    This article contains affiliate links.

    A few minutes on foot from Hakata Station’s Chikushi exit, I knew where the shop was before I could see it. The smell got there first.

    Hakata Issou. Foam-topped tonkotsu, a permanent queue, the kind of place that shows up on every Fukuoka list. We got as far as the door and one of the people I was with stopped walking. “Sorry — I can’t.” The pork bone smell coming out of the extractor fan was, for them, completely disqualifying. They waited outside.

    Nobody had warned any of us that this was a thing that happens.

    Fukuoka has plenty to see. Dazaifu Tenmangu, the beaches at Itoshima, the ferry over to Nokonoshima. All genuinely worth a day. But I was not in Fukuoka for any of that. I was there to eat pork bone broth from morning to night, because this city is where tonkotsu ramen was invented and where it still lives.

    So this article skips the sightseeing almost entirely. What it has instead is a lot of information about smell, noodle hardness, and one conclusion that surprised me.

    Fair warning about my palate: I like my broth thick and heavy. Delicate, refined food mostly goes over my head. I don’t put much stock in restaurant rankings.

    The smell is the part nobody mentions

    Hakata Issou

    Opened in 2012 and became one of Hakata’s most-queued shops almost immediately. Three stockpots, domestic pork bones boiled until the bones themselves fall apart, and a layer of foam across the whole surface of the bowl. People call it “tonkotsu cappuccino.”

    It was excellent. Genuinely thick, the kind of broth that coats your mouth. The noodles are flat and thin and carry the soup well.

    It also smells enormous. The bowl looks refined — pale, foamy, almost elegant — and the smell has none of that restraint. If you have any sensitivity to pork funk at all, stand near the door for thirty seconds before you commit.

    Hakata Daruma

    Founded in 1963, over in the Watanabe-dori area. They use an iron kettle and a technique called yobimodoshi, where the broth is never fully emptied — new stock is added to old, continuously, for decades.

    Also very smelly.

    I don’t mean that as criticism. This is the smell of the thing being made properly, and it’s the clearest signal you’re eating something you can’t get at a branch overseas. Outside Kyushu, tonkotsu is almost always toned down.

    Two bowls that don’t taste like Hakata

    Hakata Genki Ippai!!

    In Shimogofukumachi, and it’s for enthusiasts. There is no sign and no shop curtain. From the street it looks like a closed office. The way you know it’s open is a blue bucket hanging by the entrance.

    It used to have a reputation for strict house rules — drink the broth first, no photographs — but those were dropped, and the atmosphere inside is relaxed now. A bowl runs about ¥1,000.

    The broth is extraordinarily thick, almost viscous, and yet has no funk at all. Creamy. Honestly, the closest thing I can compare it to is corn soup with noodles in it.

    I understand why people love it, and there’s nothing else like it. It just isn’t what I came to Hakata to eat.

    Ramen Unari, Nakasu

    Seafood tonkotsu — pork broth with fish and shellfish stock folded in. Open from 6pm to 6am, so it’s the shop that catches everyone stumbling out of the Nakasu bars. They also do a version with Genoese basil sauce, which I am not making up.

    By Hakata purist standards, adding seafood is heresy. It’s also delicious. But the moment I tasted it, what came to mind was Sugakiya.

    I grew up in the Tokai region, and Sugakiya is my baseline for what ramen tastes like — a cheap regional chain whose broth is pork bone with fish and kelp dashi. It’s what I ate as a child, and apparently it’s welded to my palate permanently.

    Here’s the part that made it funny: there were six of us at the table, all of us from Tokai, and within about a minute someone said out loud, “does this taste like Sugakiya to you?” Every single person had been thinking it.

    We flew to the birthplace of tonkotsu and were reminded of a Nagoya chain restaurant.

    Unari opened a Tokyo branch in 2026, incidentally, so this particular bowl no longer requires a trip to Kyushu.

    Ganso Ramen Nagahama-ya

    A short walk from Unari, on the corner where the Kawabata shopping arcade meets the road toward Nakasu.

    Something to know before you search for this: the naming situation here is chaotic. There’s the original Ganso Nagahamaya, then Ganso Ramen Nagahama-ya started by a former employee, and then a third shop opened by someone who split from that one, using the same name again. The signage is nearly identical. One of them sued another over it and lost; both still operate under the name.

    If you look it up on Google Maps, several nearly identical results is not an error. I couldn’t tell you with confidence which one I ate at.

    The ramen itself is fine — solid, standard Hakata-style tonkotsu, about ¥700 with extra noodles at ¥150. Not memorable, but this is neighborhood food, the bowl people eat at 3am without thinking about it.

    Hakata Ramen ShinShin, Tenjin

    Started as a yatai stall, opened as a shop in 2003, and now has several locations around the prefecture. Reviews are uniformly excellent, which is why I went.

    It was good. Clean, no funk, easy to drink, and I understand completely why it’s popular.

    But better than Ichiran or Ippudo? For me, no. Hold that thought.

    How to order the noodles

    Hakata noodles are thin and cook in seconds, which is why you get asked how firm you want them. The ladder, from softest to hardest:

    OrderMeaning
    YawaSoft
    FutsuuNormal
    KatameFirm
    BarikataVery firm — the usual recommendation
    Harigane“Wire”
    KonaotoshiBarely dipped in the water
    YugetoshiPassed through the steam
    NamaEssentially raw

    The Nagahama-lineage shops use a completely different system — just Nama, Kata, Futsuu, Yawa — and regulars combine it with fat and scallion levels into a single word, like betanama. Same city, different dialect.

    Here is the practical advice, learned the hard way. I like firm noodles and used to order harigane or nama every time, and every time my stomach paid for it afterwards. The reason is straightforward: noodles that haven’t boiled long enough are still, functionally, flour. Wheat starch has to be heated to gelatinise before digestive enzymes can do much with it, so undercooked noodles arrive in your stomach in a form your body struggles with.

    Barikata is where this stops happening for me. It’s also what most shops recommend by default. Ordering harder does not make you more of an expert, and there’s no prize for nama.

    Kaedama, and the order of operations

    Kaedama means a second serving of noodles dropped into the broth you already have. It was invented at Ganso Nagahamaya — they made the noodles thin so fish market workers could be served fast, thin noodles go soft fast, so they cut the portion size and let people order more. Thin noodles came first; kaedama is the workaround.

    How I do it:

    First bowl, minimal interference. Red pickled ginger only, but a generous amount of it. I want to taste the broth and noodles as the shop made them.

    No sesame. Ground sesame changes the flavour dramatically to my palate, and not in a direction I want. Plenty of people disagree.

    Order the kaedama before you finish the noodles in front of you. This is the one that matters. If you wait until the bowl is empty, you sit there while they boil, the broth cools, and the momentum dies.

    Don’t drink all the broth early. It’s tempting, because the first bowl is the best it will ever taste. But you need enough liquid left for a second kaedama, and possibly a third.

    Once the kaedama arrives, start adjusting. Tare from the table to bring the seasoning back up, spicy mustard greens if they have them, and garlic if it’s available. Garlic makes almost anything taste better to me, so treat that as a statement about my palate rather than about the ramen.

    I skipped the yatai

    Nakasu’s street food stalls are the signature Fukuoka image and I walked past them without stopping.

    Two reasons. They sit in the middle of an entertainment district and are priced accordingly. And I’ve spent a lot of time in Southeast Asia, where eating at a stall is just how dinner works — Bangkok, Hanoi, Taipei. The format doesn’t feel like an event to me.

    The atmosphere is lovely, no argument. But if you have a limited number of bowls in you, I’d spend them indoors.

    The conclusion I didn’t expect

    I did not visit the Ichiran or Ippudo flagship stores in Fukuoka. They taste the same everywhere, so going to the original branch seemed pointless.

    And then, after all of the above, this is where I landed: the two best tonkotsu in Hakata are Ichiran and Ippudo.

    The reason is the smell.

    Those two are the only ones that removed the pork funk, and this isn’t my interpretation — Ichiran publishes a list of “five firsts” they claim to have originated, and the second one is tonkotsu broth without the funk. The company treats deodorising the broth as its central invention.

    No funk means anyone can eat it. Nobody stops at the door. That is why these two, out of hundreds of excellent Hakata shops, are the ones that went global. The person who couldn’t walk into Issou would have finished a bowl at Ichiran without a second thought.

    There’s a neat symmetry, too. All the fiddling I do at the table with tare and garlic — Ichiran handles that on a slip of paper before the bowl is made. Their order sheet lets you specify noodle firmness, broth, richness, pork, scallion, secret sauce, and garlic. That sheet is another of the five firsts. They anticipated the exact adjustment I was going to make.

    I should admit my premise here. I’m assuming chain restaurants taste identical everywhere, and that isn’t universally true — Fuji Soba, for instance, has no product development department at all and lets individual branch managers trial new items, and handles complaints about inconsistency at branch level too. That chain varies deliberately. But with these two tonkotsu chains, the sameness held up every time I checked it.

    The cost is money. Ippudo’s Shiromaru Motoaji runs in the ¥850 range, the simpler version around ¥790, while Nagahama-style shops start at ¥500 and top out around ¥700. Against local prices, the chains are expensive. Ichiran revised its pricing at some branches in July 2026 and prices now vary by location, so check before you go.

    That gap does buy something, though. Making a bowl that no one refuses is probably the hardest version of this job.

    Where I stayed, and one logistics warning

    I stayed at the Hilton Fukuoka Sea Hawk, on the waterfront at Jigyohama. Every room faces the sea, the bar is genuinely nice, and the breakfast buffet does a good impression of luxury. I picked it for no particular reason.

    One thing to plan around: the nearest subway stations, Tojinmachi and Nishijin, are close to a twenty-minute walk. There’s a free shuttle, but it only runs weekends and holidays, 10:00 to 19:00. If your plan involves eating ramen until 2am, the shuttle is not part of your life. Use a taxi, or the bus from Hakata Bus Terminal.

    If you want to be within walking distance of the shops in this article, Nakasu, Tenjin, or right by Hakata Station will serve you far better.

    Compare Fukuoka hotels on Booking.com

    Before you go

    eSIM. Getting data sorted before you land removes a genuine annoyance, especially since half the shops here have hours and closing days that only exist on their social media. I use Airalo.

    Travel insurance. Japan is safe, but medical costs for visitors are not. World Nomads covers travellers who are already abroad, which is useful if you didn’t sort it before leaving.

    Getting around. Fukuoka Airport is unusually close to the city — two subway stops from Hakata Station — so you rarely need a transfer. If you want passes or day trips, check what’s available for Fukuoka before you fly.

    Browse Fukuoka passes and day trips on Klook

    Come for the ramen. Bring someone with a strong stomach, or be prepared to eat alone at the door of Hakata Issou.

  • Tokyo Ramen Survival Guide: Honest Reviews, Reservation Tips, and the Best Rich Noodles

    Tokyo Ramen Survival Guide: Honest Reviews, Reservation Tips, and the Best Rich Noodles

    This article contains affiliate links.

    Here’s the thing about eating in Tokyo. If you want the sushi you’ve read about — Sukiyabashi Jiro, the places with three Michelin stars — good luck. Most won’t take a reservation from someone without a connection, and if they do, you’re looking at ¥40,000 a head before drinks.

    Ramen costs about ¥1,000. There’s no dress code, no reservation required at most places, and the standard in this city is genuinely absurd. It’s also the Japanese food the rest of the world actually got obsessed with.

    So this isn’t a Tokyo guide with Senso-ji and the Shibuya scramble crossing in it. You can find those anywhere. This is about ramen — where to eat it around Tokyo, Chiba and Kanagawa, and which famous places are worth your limited stomach space.

    Before I start, my bias, so you can calibrate.

    The delicate, clear soy-sauce ramen that sits permanently at the top of Japanese review sites — I don’t get it. Not saying it’s bad. I just can’t pick up whatever everyone else is picking up. I love food across a lot of categories, but the subtle Michelin-type flavours are honestly lost on me. I have a fairly ordinary palate and I’ve made peace with that.

    What I like is thick and heavy. Tonkotsu above all. Pork-and-fish tsukemen, the fat noodles of Jiro-style, iekei, spicy miso. The kind of bowl where the broth clings to every noodle and you finish with a full stomach and mild regret. If there’s raw garlic on the counter, I’ll agonise over it and then put it in.


    First, the thing most visitors don’t realise

    Almost every famous regional ramen chain in Japan has a branch in Tokyo.

    Ichiran and Ippudo from Fukuoka. Tenkaippin, Ramen Yokozuna and Shinpuku Saikan from Kyoto. Kamukura from Osaka. Ebisoba Ichigen from Hokkaido. The ramen you’d normally have to cross the country for is mostly sitting in Tokyo already.

    There’s a caveat: a flagship shop has an atmosphere a branch doesn’t. Walking into the original Tenkaippin in Kyoto’s Ichijoji is a different experience from its Tokyo outpost. But if you just want to taste it, Tokyo is enough.

    If you’re not travelling the length of Japan on this trip, eating your way through the regional styles while you’re in Tokyo is a pretty efficient move.


    The two giants of Chiba and Kanagawa — and why you probably can’t just show up

    Two shops dominate any conversation about ramen around Tokyo: Chuka Soba Tomita in Matsudo, Chiba, and Iida Shoten in Yugawara, Kanagawa.

    And both have changed in the same way. Neither is a place you can queue at and get in anymore.

    Chuka Soba Tomita (Matsudo, Chiba)

    For tsukemen, this is my favourite in Japan.

    When I went, I queued before 7am to get a numbered ticket. Up early, standing outside the shop, coming back at the time they assigned me. It was worth that.

    The system has changed since. The main shop now runs mostly on advance booking through a reservation site called OMAKASE, with new slots released around 12:30 every Tuesday. The moment they open, everyone piles in, and even if you reach the booking screen a five-minute countdown starts. It’s a scramble.

    There’s apparently still a morning ticket option from 8am, but if you want certainty, you’re going for the reservation.

    Tomita’s influence is easier to see from a distance. In Kyoto there’s a shop called Menya Takei, run by someone who trained at Tomita, using noodles from Tomita’s own noodle maker. You can eat something very close to it 500km away. That’s how much of a benchmark Tomita has become.

    Iida Shoten (Yugawara, Kanagawa)

    I’ve been to the main shop twice, and to their food court branch at LaLaport Numazu twice.

    It’s permanently near the top of Japan’s national rankings. The broth is genuinely superb — a friend I went with just said “this soup is insane,” and he was right. The house-made noodles are on the soft side though, and that part didn’t land for me. Less a fault than a texture preference that splits people.

    Here’s the practical part.

    Iida Shoten’s main shop used to mean a long queue outside. It’s now fully reservation-only online, through OMAKASE, which is a paid booking service. Slots open at a set time and if you miss them, you don’t eat. Add Yugawara’s location to that and the barrier is high.

    Which is where the food court comes in.

    There’s an Iida Shoten inside the food court at LaLaport Numazu. I went twice, both times in the evening, and there was no queue at all. As for the actual food — for the signature shoyu ramen, I couldn’t detect a meaningful difference from the main shop. (My own impression, for what it’s worth.)

    Weighed against winning a reservation lottery and travelling to Yugawara, the food court is a surprisingly reasonable answer. The main shop has its own atmosphere, obviously, so if that’s what you’re paying for, different story.


    What I’d actually send you to in Tokyo

    Menya Itto

    I’ve been back many times. For the tsukemen.

    Thick pork-and-seafood dipping broth, dead centre of what I like. There’s a sister shop nearby doing a shrimp version, which was also good.

    Slightly absurd side note: they had a branch in Bangkok. I went looking for it while travelling and got there right at opening, so no queue. Eating tsukemen at that level in Southeast Asia was a strange and excellent experience.

    Chasing tsukemen also took me out to Tsukemen no Michi in Katsushika. It’s a bit outside central Tokyo, but worth the trip if you care about the genre.

    Rokurinsha

    The headline act at TOKYO Ramen Street in Tokyo Station.

    Honestly, it’s very good. One of the few tsukemen shops you can mention in the same breath as Tomita. Holding that standard inside a train station is impressive on its own.

    Ikaruga there was also excellent — another name that comes up when people list Tokyo’s best bowls.

    I stop by Ramen Street basically every time I’m at Tokyo Station. Being able to fit it around a train connection makes it unusually practical for a traveller.

    Worth knowing: Tokyo Station has ramen outside Ramen Street too. Ebisoba Ichigen from Hokkaido is there — a Sapporo bowl built on shrimp broth, in Tokyo Station.

    Ramen Jiro

    Straight answer: I’m not really a Jiro person. The mountain of beansprouts, the slabs of pork — I don’t go for those.

    But the fat noodles in Jiro-style ramen are great. Real wheat flavour, proper chew, and they don’t get buried by a heavy broth. Ramen where the noodles are the main event is rarer than you’d think. That’s why I go.

    If you’re a first-timer, read this before you walk in. Jiro has its own ordering ritual. When your bowl is nearly ready, staff will ask something like “ninniku?” — that’s your cue to call your free toppings: garlic (ninniku), extra vegetables (yasai), back fat (abura), stronger seasoning (karame). Saying nothing usually gets you the default. Portions are enormous even at sho (small). Don’t order the large unless you’re confident, don’t leave food, and don’t linger after eating.


    Places that didn’t land for me

    Being honest about these is more useful than pretending.

    Tanaka Shoten

    A popular tonkotsu shop in Tokyo. My take: I thought Ichiran and Ippudo were better.

    Tonkotsu is my favourite genre, so I went in with high expectations, which may have worked against it. Both of those are enormous chains with branches worldwide, but on tonkotsu specifically, the chains suited my palate more. Taste is personal though, and it wouldn’t surprise me at all if Tanaka Shoten is someone’s number one.

    Mouko Tanmen Nakamoto

    Famous for spicy ramen.

    What I found was that the heat and the temperature arrive first, and I couldn’t really taste the miso underneath. The impact is real, but I felt like I could predict the flavour just from looking at the bowl. If you love spice, you’ll probably love it.

    One thing worth saying: the 7-Eleven cup noodle version is a remarkably good reproduction. Since the shops are basically a Kanto-area thing, being able to get close to it in a convenience store is a genuine gift. Though I should admit the cup version of Hokkyoku — their hottest — beat me. Couldn’t finish it.

    For spicy miso I’d rather have Ryushanghai from Yamagata. The heat and the miso are balanced, so it doesn’t stop at just being hot, and that lump of special garlic miso sitting in the middle of the bowl is the whole point. More on where to find it below.

    Shibata and Torikui

    Shibata in Tokyo works with duck broth and soy sauce; Torikui in Kanagawa is also clear-style shoyu.

    Both are highly rated, and as I said at the start, this whole category goes over my head. I can tell they’re made with real care. It just never turned into anything I’d call excitement. Same as Iida Shoten — that’s on my palate, not on them.

    If clear-style shoyu is your thing, these two are probably wonderful. So I’m not dismissing them. I’m saying I’m not qualified to judge, and leaving it open.


    If you want to try several without burning three days

    Two places let you cover a lot of ground in one stop, which matters if you’re here for a week.

    TOKYO Ramen Street (Tokyo Station)

    Underground at Tokyo Station, in the Ichibangai complex. Rokurinsha and a lineup of shops that can actually hold their own.

    The value is entirely in the logistics: you can eat here between trains. It gets busy at peak times, but it’s still far easier than tracking down individual shops across the city.

    Shin-Yokohama Ramen Museum (Kanagawa)

    Two visits, four shops. Famous names from around the country, inside a space built to look like a Showa-era street.

    This is where I ate Ryushanghai from Yamagata — spicy miso done properly, and exactly my thing. Also Sumire from Sapporo, whose miso is as strong as its reputation.

    The key detail: they serve mini portions. You can do several shops in one visit. Compared to normal ramen crawling, where one bowl finishes you, the efficiency is on another level. For a visitor who wants to understand regional Japanese ramen without flying around the country, this is probably the single best place in Japan.

    📍 Book Ramen Museum tickets and food experiences


    Practical things worth knowing

    Reservation-only is spreading. Tomita and Iida Shoten both used to be queue-and-wait. Both are now booking-first. If there’s a specific shop you want, check the official site or their social media for the current entry system before you go. Turning up on the assumption you can just queue is how you end up standing outside a closed door.

    Most shops use a ticket vending machine. You buy a meal ticket at the machine by the entrance and hand it to staff. It’s confusing the first time. Many machines are Japanese-only, but they usually have photos — if you’re stuck, the top-left button or the biggest, most prominent one is almost always the signature bowl.

    Carry cash. Plenty of independent ramen shops still don’t take cards or IC payment.

    Don’t linger. At busy shops, get up when you’re done. This isn’t a place where you sit and talk for an hour, and it applies across Japan, not just here.

    A word on portions. Japanese ramen portions are heavier than they look, especially anything tonkotsu or Jiro-style. If you’re planning to try several shops in a day, order small.

    📍 Compare hotels and rates in Tokyo 📍 Set up a Japan eSIM before you go 📍 Get a travel insurance quote


    The short version

    Ramen judgment comes down to your own tongue in the end.

    I went to clear-broth shops rated above 4.0 and couldn’t work out what I was missing. Meanwhile I preferred a global chain to a celebrated independent. I thought a convenience store cup noodle got close enough to a famous shop that I’d skip the queue.

    That’s an unrefined palate, and I’ve stopped being embarrassed about it. What actually matters is knowing which style you like. Once you know that, you stop being pushed around by rankings and start eating what you actually want.

    If you like it thick and heavy: Tenkaippin, Ichiran, Ippudo. For tsukemen, Tomita, Rokurinsha, Itto. If it’s the fat noodles you’re after, anything Jiro-style. For spicy miso, Ryushanghai at the Ramen Museum. Iekei — Machida Shoten is plenty.

    If you like the clean, delicate style, then Iida Shoten and Shibata — the ones I couldn’t crack — are probably exactly your thing.

    Although, full disclosure: put enough garlic in anything and I’ll tell you it’s delicious. Which tells you most of what you need to know about my palate.

  • Kyoto Off the Beaten Path: The Ultimate Ramen Tourism & Authentic Matcha Guide

    Kyoto Off the Beaten Path: The Ultimate Ramen Tourism & Authentic Matcha Guide

    This article contains affiliate links.

    I’ve been to Kyoto more than twenty times — in autumn for the maples, in spring for the cherry blossoms, and plenty of times in between.

    After that many visits, I have no interest in writing about Kiyomizu-dera or Kinkaku-ji again. Those places have been covered exhaustively, and as of 2026 they’re crowded enough that you can’t really look at them properly anyway.

    So this guide is about a different Kyoto. Ramen and matcha.

    I’ve eaten my way around Japan, and from where I sit, Kyoto is one of the country’s serious ramen battlegrounds. Almost no foreign visitor knows this. And then there’s Uji matcha — with global demand pushing prices to levels nobody expected, drinking the real thing at the source is worth more now than it was five years ago.

    The only sightseeing spot I’ll cover is Ruriko-in. Plus one place that Japanese people, oddly, tend not to know about.


    Kyoto is one of Japan’s great ramen cities

    This surprises people. Kyoto’s reputation is kaiseki and tofu. But walk the streets and the density of ramen shops is genuinely striking.

    Several national chains were born here

    Tenkaippin started in 1971 as a food cart near Ginkaku-ji. That famously thick, almost gravy-like kotteri broth originated in Kyoto — and the flagship shop is in Ichijoji, which I’ll get to. Ramen Yokozuna is also from Kyoto. So is Kairikiya. The style of soy-sauce ramen with a layer of pork back fat floating on top is essentially Kyoto’s contribution to Japanese ramen.

    Ichijoji Ramen Road

    If you’re eating ramen in Kyoto, start with Ichijoji.

    Along Higashioji Street, from the Takano intersection north to Kitayama, roughly 1.3 kilometres of road is lined with ramen shops. Locals call it Ichijoji Ramen Road, and it’s Kyoto’s most competitive stretch. Crucially, these aren’t branches — the flagship shops of famous names are here.

    There’s a second cluster too, along Shidan Kaido in Fukakusa. By sheer shop count it may even beat Ichijoji.

    My top pick: Menya Takei

    If I could only eat one bowl in Kyoto, this would be it — and there’s a story behind why.

    The owner of Menya Takei trained at Chuka Soba Tomita in Matsudo, Chiba. Tomita is regularly called Japan’s best tsukemen (dipping noodle) shop. To eat at the Matsudo original, you queue at dawn for a numbered ticket.

    Takei’s tsukemen carries that lineage faithfully. To my palate, the noodles and the broth are almost identical to Tomita’s. I later found out why: the noodles come from Kokoro no Aji Shokuhin, the noodle maker Tomita runs. Same noodles, same result.

    For a traveller, this matters. You can eat something extremely close to Tomita without going to Matsudo and queueing at 6am. There are several branches across Kyoto Prefecture, including one at Kyoto Station.

    One honest caveat: the tsukemen at the main shop is very rich. Too rich for me, in fact. The pork-and-fish broth is on another level of concentration, and it starts to feel heavy partway through. I’ve seen other reviewers say the same, so it isn’t just me. If you love intensely thick tsukemen you’ll be delighted; otherwise a branch may suit you better.

    That said, the main shop has a pork-and-seafood ramen you can’t get anywhere else — roughly the concentration of tsukemen broth after it’s been thinned, with thick noodles running through it. Personally, that’s the bowl I prefer.

    The main shop is in Joyo City, far from any station, lunchtime only. It’s a commitment. Nearby is Ore no Ramen Appare-ya, also lunch-only and also popular, so serious ramen people sometimes do both in one trip.

    Appare-ya had a long queue, and after eating I understood why. It reminded me of Sugakiya — a ramen chain from Japan’s Tokai region, the original wafu tonkotsu (Japanese-style pork broth) and the food I grew up on. Sugakiya occupies a permanent place in my personal hall of fame, partly for nostalgia and partly because it’s remarkably cheap. Appare-ya tasted like a refined version of that memory.

    In Ichijoji

    Menya Gokkei A chicken paitan broth so thick that people say a spoon will stand up in it. It’s closer to a solid than a soup — imagine Tenkaippin’s kotteri, then thicker still. Often called the most popular shop on Ichijoji Ramen Road right now.

    The broth clings so completely to the noodles that there’s essentially nothing left in the bowl at the end. There’s a chilli version too, though it’s far less spicy than it looks.

    Chuka Soba Takayasu A cloudy pork broth simmered for 22 hours. The ramen is good, but the real signature here is the fried chicken — and it is enormous. Order it alongside a bowl and you will be full. Consider yourself warned.

    Being honest about what didn’t move me

    Shinpuku Saikan and Daiichi Asahi sit side by side near Kyoto Station, in the area called Takabashi. Both have permanent queues.

    I ate at both, and honestly, neither impressed me much. They weren’t bad — I just wouldn’t queue for them again. If your goal is to taste the history of Kyoto ramen, there’s real value in going. As a use of one of your limited meals in Kyoto, I’d think twice.

    Muteppou I’ve also eaten. The tonkotsu is so thick it lives up to the name, which roughly translates as “reckless.” A different direction of heaviness from Gokkei. If that’s your thing, it’ll land.

    Prioritise carefully

    If you’re in Kyoto for a few days, this is worth thinking about before you go.

    The independent shops have one location each, so expect to queue. Gokkei, Takayasu, Takei’s main shop, Appare-ya — all of them. Many have short opening hours, and lunch-only is common.

    Tenkaippin and Yokozuna, by contrast, are national chains. Eating at the birthplace has a certain value, and the Tenkaippin flagship in Ichijoji is a genuine pilgrimage if you care about that. But the taste itself is available in most Japanese cities. If your Kyoto meals are limited, weigh that.

    An aside: I like Tenkaippin a great deal. Which is why, having dragged a friend all the way to the flagship shop, I was quietly devastated when he ordered the gomoku (mixed vegetable) ramen instead of the kotteri.

    Two practical notes for foreign visitors. Most ramen shops use a ticket vending machine — you buy a meal ticket at the door, then hand it to the staff. Many machines are Japanese-only, though the buttons usually have photos. And bring cash. Plenty of ramen shops still don’t take cards or IC payment at all.


    Real Uji matcha, in the middle of a global shortage

    I used to travel to Uji for work, two or three times a year. Eating matcha desserts between meetings was the part I looked forward to.

    The world is currently fighting over matcha

    The situation has shifted dramatically in the past couple of years.

    Japan’s export value of powdered tea — matcha included — reached ¥60.3 billion in 2025, more than double the ¥27.1 billion of the previous year. A tea merchant in Shizuoka described it as the whole world competing for the same supply, with prices rising three- to fourfold.

    Uji is no exception. In 2026, hand-picked Uji tencha — the leaf matcha is ground from — traded at ¥52,086 per kilogram, up 20.2% year on year. And production actually increased. Prices rose anyway, which tells you how far demand has outrun supply. There are reports of Kyoto restaurants quietly dropping “Uji tea” from their menus because they can no longer source it.

    Which makes drinking the real thing at the source more worthwhile, not less. What you get here is a different substance from the sweetened matcha latte at a café back home.

    The matcha parfait at Tsujiri

    In Uji I go to Tsujiri. Their matcha parfait is the thing I kept coming back for.

    A lot of matcha dessert stops at matcha flavour. The real thing has bitterness that stands up on its own. Beneath the sweetness there’s astringency and depth, and even in a parfait — which is sweet by design — the tea never disappears. That’s the part you can’t understand until you eat it where it’s made.

    Uji is about 20 minutes from Kyoto Station by JR. You can go and come back in half a day, which makes it a good escape when the crowds in central Kyoto get to you.

    📍 Book a matcha or tea ceremony experience

    What to take home: the matcha fondant chocolat from Kitayama

    If you’re buying something to carry back, this is my recommendation: Nama Cha no Ka from Malebranche.

    It’s a Western-style confectioner with its main shop in Kitayama, Kyoto. You may know their matcha langue de chat, “Cha no Ka,” which is a standard Kyoto souvenir. But the one I’d push is the “raw” version — a koicha (thick matcha) fondant chocolat.

    Eat it cold. An hour in the refrigerator turns the texture into something like raw chocolate ganache. The bitterness of the thick matcha and the sweetness of the white chocolate dissolve together, and it’s genuinely rich. Small, but one is enough.

    As a souvenir it’s well designed: individually wrapped, longer shelf life than you’d expect from something this soft, and boxes from three pieces up. There’s a shop at Kyoto Station, so you can pick it up on the way out.

    What about yuba and tofu?

    Kyoto is also known for yuba (tofu skin) and tofu cuisine. I’ve eaten at the formal, restaurant-style places around Gion and Nanzen-ji.

    The atmosphere is genuinely wonderful. Sitting on tatami looking out at a garden while you eat is something you can only do here.

    But honestly — I don’t think it lands for most foreign visitors. The flavours are so delicate that even Japanese diners sometimes come away thinking “refined, but not much there.” And it isn’t cheap.

    If I’m deciding how to spend a limited budget and a limited appetite in Kyoto, I’d put the money into matcha desserts. Immediately delicious, reasonably priced, and — right now — genuinely scarce.

    📍 Book a matcha or tea ceremony experience


    The one temple worth the detour: Ruriko-in

    If I name a single sightseeing spot, it’s Ruriko-in.

    This is the place behind the famous image of maple leaves reflected in a black lacquered table. It sits in Yase, at the foot of Mount Hiei, a little removed from the city.

    I went during the fresh-green season. Young maples reflected in the lacquer of the table and again in the polished floor, until you genuinely lose track of where the real leaves end and the reflection begins. I took photographs, but the depth of it in person doesn’t survive the transfer.

    Autumn is spectacular, of course, and correspondingly insane. The green season is calmer and far less crowded, and I’d point you there instead. Sitting on the tatami with your legs stretched out, looking at the garden, the air feels almost charged — it was one of the more restorative hours I’ve spent in Japan.

    One important caveat: Ruriko-in is not open year-round. It opens only for special viewing periods in spring, summer, and autumn. Check the official site for dates before you build a day around it.

    Getting there: Eizan Railway from Demachiyanagi to Yase-Hieizanguchi, then about ten minutes on foot.


    The Arashiyama monkeys: what nobody tells you first

    You may already have this one on your list — it’s genuinely popular with international visitors. What’s less commonly explained is the practical side.

    Arashiyama Monkey Park Iwatayama sits on a hill above the Togetsukyo Bridge. About 120 Japanese macaques live there, with no enclosure. They wander freely.

    The detail people love: when you feed them, you go inside the wire hut and the monkeys stay outside. The cage contains the humans. It’s the reverse of a normal zoo, and it’s the reason the place is on so many itineraries.

    Roughly 80% of visitors are foreign — there are no wild monkeys in Europe, North America, or Australia, which is exactly why it registers as remarkable. Japanese tourists, by contrast, mostly haven’t heard of it.

    Three things worth knowing before you go:

    The climb is harder than it sounds. It’s about 20 minutes of stone steps and mountain path. Heels and sandals are not viable. Wear proper shoes.

    Don’t make eye contact with the monkeys. They can read it as a challenge. Aim your gaze at their chest instead.

    Buy the food inside, not outside. You feed them through the wire from within the hut. Admission is ¥550 for adults, and the feeding area doubles as a viewpoint over the whole city — worth the climb on its own.

    📍 Arashiyama tours, kimono rental and day trips


    Practical notes for 2026

    The lodging tax went up. From 1 March 2026, Kyoto City’s accommodation tax moved to a five-tier structure. Per person per night: ¥400 for rooms from ¥6,000 to under ¥20,000, ¥1,000 from ¥20,000 to under ¥50,000, ¥4,000 from ¥50,000 to under ¥100,000, and ¥10,000 above that. The top end rose sharply, so factor it in if you’re booking somewhere expensive.

    📍 Compare hotels and rates in Kyoto

    Crowds are real. Cherry blossom and autumn foliage seasons, and the main sightseeing districts generally, are more packed than you’re picturing. The places in this guide — Ichijoji, Uji — are considerably calmer than the postcard spots.

    Getting in and around. From Kansai Airport, the JR Haruka express reaches Kyoto in about 75 minutes and is the least painful option. Within the city, buses cover the most ground but seize up in peak season — use the subway where you can. An IC card or a rail pass bought before arrival saves queuing at machines.

    📍 Airport transfers, IC cards and rail passes

    Carry cash. Ramen shops and small independent businesses frequently don’t accept anything else.

    Data. Kyoto’s smaller streets and the routes to places like Ichijoji and Ruriko-in are much easier with a working map. Set up an eSIM before you fly rather than hunting for a SIM at the airport.

    📍 Set up an eSIM before you go 📍 Get a travel insurance quote


    Closing

    Kyoto isn’t a city you finish by working through the standard list.

    Its identity as a ramen battleground is almost entirely unknown to visitors from abroad. Walk Ichijoji and you’ll find the flagship shops of famous names packed into 1.3 kilometres. Go to Menya Takei and you can eat something close to Tomita without the dawn queue in Matsudo.

    Take the train out to Uji and you can eat, casually and affordably, the matcha the rest of the world is currently bidding against itself to obtain.

    Then the green maples at Ruriko-in, and a hill full of monkeys where you’re the one in the cage.

    Kiyomizu-dera and Kinkaku-ji are wonderful. But after twenty-odd visits, I’ve come to think the interesting part of Kyoto is somewhere else entirely. I hope this helps you find it.

  • Honest Hokkaido Travel Guide: Summer vs Winter, Best Areas & Hotels

    Honest Hokkaido Travel Guide: Summer vs Winter, Best Areas & Hotels

    This article contains affiliate links.

    I’ve been to Hokkaido about five times now. I don’t handle heat well, so I’ve gone mostly in summer, but I’ve been in winter too.

    What strikes me every time is that Hokkaido becomes a completely different place depending on the season.

    Summer means cool air, lavender fields, a strange blue pond, and roads that run straight to the horizon. Winter means snow, hot springs, and some of the best skiing in the world. You could be heading to the same town on the map and have almost nothing in common between the two trips — different sights, different activities, even different luggage. When you decide you want to go to Hokkaido, the first thing to settle isn’t where. It’s when.

    This guide covers the places I’ve actually been — Otaru, Sapporo, Hakodate, Niseko, Biei, Furano, Asahikawa — with honest notes on what was worth it and where to stay without overspending.


    Summer or winter: they are not the same trip

    Summer (June–September) While the rest of Japan is unbearable, Hokkaido is remarkably cool. Lavender peaks around mid-July, and Furano at that moment looks like a painting. Summer is also when driving here is at its best.

    Winter (December–March) If you’re coming from somewhere that doesn’t get snow, or if skiing is the point of the trip, this is your season. Niseko’s powder is world-famous, and the Sapporo Snow Festival runs 4–11 February 2027. But the cold and the road conditions are a different order of magnitude from what most visitors expect — your gear and your transport plan both need thought.

    I’ve ended up going in summer more often simply because I dislike heat. Neither season is better. They’re just two separate holidays that happen to share a name.


    Getting around: the answer changes with the season

    Hokkaido is enormous, and the distances between cities are nothing like the rest of Japan. Two places that look close together on a map can be a two- or three-hour drive apart.

    In summer, rent a car The distances are long, but the roads between cities are largely straight, and I found it far less tiring than I expected. It’s completely unlike grinding through mountain switchbacks in Honshu. The landscape is open and wide, so the driving itself becomes part of the trip. Sapporo alone is fine on the subway, but for anywhere beyond it, you’ll want a car.

    In winter, don’t Black ice and whiteouts are genuinely dangerous if you haven’t driven on snow before, and this isn’t a “just be careful” situation. If you have no winter driving experience, take JR trains and bus tours instead. You’ll be safer and you’ll enjoy the trip more.

    📍 Compare rental car rates

    A note on international licences: check what your own country requires before you leave. Japan recognizes the 1949 Geneva Convention International Driving Permit for many countries, but not all — a few require an official Japanese translation of the licence instead. Confirm which category applies to you before you travel; you can’t sort it out on arrival.


    Where to go, and where to stay

    Arranged in a practical order from New Chitose Airport.

    Sapporo and Jozankei

    The natural base for a Hokkaido trip. The range of food is enormous, and Susukino, the nightlife district, is genuinely fun in the evening.

    Mount Moiwa for the night view If your schedule doesn’t stretch to Hakodate, the view from Mount Moiwa in Sapporo is beautiful in its own right. The whole spread of the city sits below you, and it holds up well on its own terms.

    ONSEN RYOKAN Yuen Sapporo A ryokan in central Sapporo where the open-air bath uses hot spring water trucked in from Noboribetsu’s Karurusu onsen. Being able to soak in a real hot spring less than ten minutes’ walk from Odori Station is not something you find often. Good if you want to combine city walking with an onsen.

    Grand Blissen Hotel Jozankei Jozankei is a hot spring town in a river gorge, about 50 minutes by car from Sapporo. This one opened in 2021, and every room faces the gorge — most of them have their own hot spring bath with a view, so you can soak while looking at the valley from your own room.

    That last detail matters for a specific reason. If you have tattoos, a room with a private onsen bath solves the problem entirely. Japanese public baths and onsen can still be conservative about visible ink, and policies vary by property. Booking a room with its own bath means you never have to ask. It’s the simplest workaround in the country, and Hokkaido has a lot of rooms like this.

    There’s also a free shuttle bus from JR Sapporo Station (advance reservation required), so you can reach it without a car — useful in winter.

    📍 Check rates for Sapporo and Jozankei

    Otaru

    Famous for its canal, though I’ll be honest: the canal isn’t my highlight.

    LeTAO cheesecake is. Otaru is where this originated, and eating it there is a different experience from buying a box at the airport. It’s a standard souvenir too, so it works either way. Otaru is a comfortable day trip from Sapporo — half a day covers it.

    Niseko

    The ski destination that made Hokkaido internationally famous. So many foreign visitors that it doesn’t feel like Japan, in a way that’s either the appeal or the drawback depending on what you came for.

    The strength here is ski-in ski-out resort hotels. Walking from your room onto the slope is hard to beat if skiing is the purpose of your trip. In summer it’s a quiet mountain retreat.

    Here’s my honest position, and I’ll flag that it may read differently to you than it does to me. Niseko’s hotels are out of my price range. International demand has pushed rates well above everything else in this article. But if you’re paying in dollars, euros, or Australian dollars, and you know what a week at Whistler, Aspen, or Zermatt costs — Niseko may look entirely reasonable to you. The weak yen has made the same room a splurge for me and a bargain for you. That gap is worth understanding before you dismiss anyone’s price opinion, including mine.

    If skiing isn’t your reason for coming, you don’t need to stay in Niseko. If it is, this is one of the most highly regarded places in the world for powder, and it earns that.

    📍 Check rates for Niseko

    Hakodate

    The night view from Mount Hakodate is called one of Japan’s three great night views, and it deserves the title. Photographs don’t prepare you for it.

    Lucky Pierrot If you make it to Hakodate, this is worth your time. It’s a local burger chain, and the interesting part is that it exists only in Hakodate and the surrounding area — 17 branches, no national expansion, not even a Sapporo location. You have to come here to eat it.

    I went to the Bay Area branch near the red brick warehouses. It’s the original location, themed as a “merry-go-round in the forest,” and there was a swing, which I ended up sitting on. Every branch has a different theme and interior, so some people make a circuit of them.

    The signature item is the Chinese Chicken Burger — a large piece of fried chicken in sweet-savoury sauce, with lettuce, and a lot of volume. Locals shorten it to “chai-chiki.”

    My honest take: I prefer a normal American-style burger. With fried chicken inside, it reads more like a Chinese sandwich than a burger to me. That’s a matter of taste rather than a criticism — it’s good, and it’s something you can only eat here, which is reason enough to try it once. There’s also curry, omurice, and yakisoba on the menu, so a group with different preferences won’t struggle.

    The catch is distance. Hakodate is a long way from Sapporo, and a tight itinerary won’t accommodate it. If you can fit it, the night view justifies the time. If you can’t, Mount Moiwa covers you.

    📍 Check rates for Hakodate

    Asahikawa

    The base for northern Hokkaido, and well positioned for Furano and Biei.

    Asahiyama Zoo The facilities are visibly old, but the design thinking is exceptional. Walkways and tanks are positioned at exactly the angle where you see the animals moving and behaving naturally. That’s what makes it feel so immediate. It holds an adult’s attention completely.

    OMO7 Asahikawa This is Hoshino Resorts’ OMO brand, about ten minutes’ walk from Asahikawa Station. Hoshino Resorts has a reputation for being expensive, but OMO sits at a far more realistic price point. It works well as a base for wandering the city, and the zoo is easy to reach from there.

    📍 Check rates for Asahikawa

    Biei and Furano

    The landscapes that define summer in Hokkaido are concentrated here.

    The Blue Pond (Biei) A pond of an almost unreal blue. “Blue” undersells it — the colour isn’t quite like anything I’d seen. It shifts with the weather and time of day, so photographers get a lot out of it.

    Furano’s lavender In July the hillsides turn purple and it is genuinely beautiful. But expect traffic. Around the well-known farms the roads seize up, so build slack into your schedule.

    The best thing I did here was the buggy There’s an activity where you drive a buggy yourself through the flower fields and open country. It was far more fun than I expected. Looking at scenery is one thing; steering through it yourself leaves a much stronger memory. It also completely cured my irritation about the traffic.

    📍 Book buggy tours and activities

    Hoshino Resorts Tomamu

    A large resort in the mountains of central Hokkaido.

    I went in summer, and there was enough on the property to keep children happily occupied all day — a water park, outdoor activities, the lot. You don’t have to leave the grounds for the trip to work.

    And then there’s the Unkai Terrace. You take a gondola up the mountain early in the morning to look out over a sea of clouds. It’s a natural phenomenon, so there’s no guarantee it appears on any given day, but the view is worth the alarm clock.

    📍 Check rates for Tomamu


    The food does not miss

    Ramen

    Hokkaido means miso ramen. Sumire, Saimi from the same lineage, Ebisoba Ichigen with its shrimp-based broth, and Shingen are the names people cite. Each has real character and you’ll want to work through several.

    Asahikawa breaks the pattern: Santouka there is tonkotsu-based. The fact that ramen style shifts by region within one prefecture is part of what makes eating here interesting.

    Soup curry

    Soup curry originated in Sapporo and is worth seeking out. GARAKU, SUAGE, and Okushiba Shoten are the standards. Chunks of deep-fried vegetables sit in a heavily spiced broth — it’s not quite like anything else.

    Check the hotel breakfast buffet

    This matters more in Hokkaido than almost anywhere. A lot of hotels include all-you-can-eat seafood at breakfast — salmon roe, fresh fish, as much as you want, first thing in the morning. Given that a seafood rice bowl at a restaurant will cost you a few thousand yen, a room rate that includes that breakfast changes the maths considerably. Compare breakfasts, not just room prices.


    One rule for choosing accommodation

    Hokkaido is cool even in summer — comfortable during the day, but cool enough at night that you’ll want a layer. So whatever the season, stay somewhere with an onsen.

    Every place I stayed had one. After a day of walking or a long drive, whether you can soak makes a real difference to how your body feels the next morning. That holds in August as much as in February.

    On price: Hoshino Resorts’ “Hoshinoya” tier is the aspirational one, and honestly it isn’t a casual purchase. But the same company’s OMO and Tomamu properties sit at realistic prices and still deliver a proper resort experience. Within reach of a modest stretch, there are plenty of good options.

    📍 Compare hotels across Hokkaido


    Practical notes

    Cash. Cities and hotels take cards without issue. Smaller restaurants and rural areas often still don’t. Carry some yen, especially outside Sapporo.

    Winter disruption. Snow causes flight delays and cancellations at New Chitose more than most Japanese airports. If you’re flying in winter, don’t schedule a tight connection on your departure day, and check the cancellation terms on your bookings.

    Cold-weather gear. Winter in Hokkaido is colder than most visitors anticipate. Proper boots with grip matter more than a heavier coat — icy pavement is what actually causes problems.

    📍 Get a travel insurance quote 📍 Set up an eSIM before you go


    Closing

    Hokkaido has shown me something different every time.

    In summer: cool air through open windows, lavender and the blue pond, a buggy across the hills. In winter: snow, powder, and hot springs. Either way, the food does not let you down.

    The distances are long, but the roads are straight. Pick a few areas instead of trying to cover everything, and book somewhere with an onsen. That alone gets you most of the way to a very good trip.

  • Okinawa Travel Guide 2026: The “Grown-Up” Way to Do Japan’s Tropical Islands

    Okinawa Travel Guide 2026: The “Grown-Up” Way to Do Japan’s Tropical Islands

    This article contains affiliate links.

    I’ve been to Okinawa many times now — almost every year. Each time, I rent a car and go with family, or with friends, or as a couple. And every time, I arrive at the same conclusion:

    Okinawa isn’t a place to cram your itinerary. It’s a place to subtract.

    If you’re coming from elsewhere in Asia, the access is hard to beat — roughly two and a half hours by air from Tokyo or Taipei, easier than flying to Phuket or Bali. A long weekend, or two days plus one day off, and you’re standing in front of clear water and a genuinely luxurious resort. You don’t have to fly to some far-flung tropical country. Okinawa sits within two hours — and that alone is a kind of luxury.

    In this guide: which island has the most beautiful water, when to go and when to avoid, and what I remember from the resorts I’ve actually stayed in.


    Okinawa vs Thailand & Bali: Why the Grown-Ups Choose Japan

    Having seen a fair number of tropical resorts, I’ve come to believe Okinawa’s real value is its quietness.

    The beach towns of Thailand and Bali develop a certain energy after dark — day and night are two completely different worlds there. That’s part of the fun of travel, but when you’re there with family, there are moments you find yourself on guard. Okinawa’s resort areas don’t have that. You can walk out of your hotel at night holding your child’s hand and not feel tense. That sense of ease shapes the quality of a trip more than you’d expect.

    That said, it isn’t an island of only quiet. Come with friends and you can spend the hours until sunset at a beachside barbecue spot overlooking the ocean — places like Cozy Beach Club or Resort Magic. At night, head to Kokusai-dori, where the izakaya are endless and some feature live sanshin (the Okinawan three-stringed lute) performances.

    The same island wears a different face depending on who you bring. That’s what makes it interesting.

    A note for visitors from the West

    Two things worth knowing up front:

    • Tattoos. Japan can be conservative about tattoos at pools and public baths, and some resorts ask that they be covered. In practice, a rash guard solves this at most hotel pools and beaches, and the ocean itself is never a problem. If you have visible tattoos, it’s worth checking your specific hotel’s policy in advance.
    • Getting around. Okinawa is more car-dependent than mainland Japan. It’s very doable without a car if you stay resort-based (more on that below), but a self-drive trip opens up far more of the islands.

    The Best Season Is Not Summer

    This is the point I most want to stress.

    July through September is peak season. But prices at resort hotels comfortably double or more — and it coincides exactly with typhoon season.

    An Okinawa trip hit by a typhoon and one under clear skies are worlds apart. You can’t get in the water, can’t reach the islands, and end up watching a grey sky from your hotel room — after paying peak rates for the privilege.

    I’ve been fortunate never to take a direct hit. That’s not luck; it’s because I’ve always shifted my timing.

    What I recommend: March–April and October–November. The beaches are open, typhoon risk is low, and prices are calm. Early May through late June is Okinawa’s rainy season, so I avoid it. In March and April the water is still on the cool side, so it suits a trip built around scenery and comfortable weather rather than swimming.

    I know the harshness of summer firsthand. The time I cycled around Taketomi Island in July, I nearly collapsed, drenched in sweat. That island, that season, by bicycle — I truly can’t recommend it for anyone traveling with kids.


    The Classic Route: Three Days, Two Nights Is Plenty

    After all these trips, I have a set formula.

    Night 1: Naha City sightseeing and shopping. Kokusai-dori, DFS, and Shuri Castle.

    Night 2: A resort in the central or northern region This is where the trip finally shifts into “rest” mode.

    That’s it. Try to cram Okinawa and you only add transit time. Three days, two nights — one in Naha, one at a resort. That balance delivers the most satisfaction.

    If you’re adding an outer island, make it one night on the main island plus two on the island, giving the island the leading role.

    On Shuri Castle in 2026 After the 2019 fire, restoration has progressed, and in October 2025 the scaffolding structure covering the work was removed. You can now see the vivid main hall (Seiden) exterior for the first time in about six years. Interior public access is scheduled for autumn 2026. In other words, right now is a window unique to this moment — a completed exterior with an interior you still can’t enter. Right beside the castle is Suri Soba, a spot famous for its Okinawa soba.


    For the Water, Go to the Islands — and to Miyako

    Let me be honest.

    Okinawa’s main island has beautiful water compared to mainland Japan. But once you’ve seen the outer islands, the story changes.

    The most beautiful water I’ve found is Miyako Island.

    Ishigaki is the liveliest of the outer islands. But for transparency and depth of blue, Miyako wins by a wide margin. Ishigaki’s famous Kabira Bay is a genuine spectacle — but swimming is prohibited there. A sea you can only look at, versus a sea you can dive into. What healed me was the latter.

    The whiteness of Maehama Beach. And the Irabu Bridge — driving across it, layers of blue spread out on both sides, so beautiful you almost don’t want to reach the other side. It’s the kind of thing you can’t understand until you go.

    When I dove in, the water was so clear I felt like I’d jumped into an enormous swimming pool — the fish plainly visible. I hold an Advanced diving certification, but when it comes to Miyako, even without any license a trial dive is more than enough — the transparency itself is the main attraction. Weather matters a great deal, of course. Even if you don’t dive, snorkeling alone rewards the trip.

    If you’re staying overnight on Miyako, choose a resort hotel. Compared to Ishigaki, Miyako has surprisingly few restaurants. I once stayed three nights in cottage-style lodging and found myself bored unless I drove out somewhere. Checking into an ocean-view resort from the start and simply staying put — that’s the right way to do Miyako, as I realized only afterward. Next time, that’s what I’ll do.

    To see beautiful water on a day trip from the main island I recommend a day trip to the Kerama Islands. Minna Island is also a quick boat ride away.

    There are other beautiful outer islands like Hateruma, but when it comes to islands with genuinely good resort hotels, the options narrow considerably.

    📍 Miyako trial diving & snorkeling (Klook) 📍 Kerama Islands day trip (Klook)


    The Resorts I’ve Stayed In — and the Ones I Still Want To

    So far I’ve stayed at: two resorts in Chatan, HIYORI Ocean Resort Okinawa, ANA InterContinental Manza Beach Resort, The Busena Terrace, Oriental Hotel Okinawa Resort & Spa, Hyatt Regency Seragaki Island Okinawa, and on Ishigaki both Fusaki Beach Resort and ANA InterContinental Ishigaki Resort, plus Haimurubushi on Kohama Island.

    The one that stays with me most is the evening at Busena Beach.

    From the adjacent Busena Terrace, live saxophone drifts across the sand every day. Standing on the beach in the light of the sunset, that sound is all you hear. If you’re there with someone, it becomes a moment that’s hard to beat.

    Two I haven’t stayed at yet, but keep eyeing

    Halekulani Okinawa consistently ranks at the top on Japanese booking sites. With the weak yen and rising prices making Hawaii harder to reach, Halekulani stands almost alone in its class. Even off-season, a night won’t dip below ¥50,000 — but set against the cost of a Hawaii trip, it starts to look reasonable.

    (As an aside: Kahala, the other grand Hawaiian name, came not to Okinawa but to Yokohama. I’ve stayed at Kahala Yokohama too, and I still can’t quite figure out why it was Yokohama.)

    Ryukyu Hotel & Resort Nashiro Beach opened in July 2022 in Itoman and is the largest resort in the main island’s south. All 443 rooms are ocean-view, it has one of the prefecture’s largest lineups of six pool types, and a 1.8-kilometer stretch of natural white-sand beach lies right in front. It’s about 20 minutes by car from Naha Airport — a distance that matters, because you can sink into resort mode without the long drive north. It also runs a direct limousine bus from the airport, so you can reach it without a car.

    📍 Compare and book Okinawa resorts


    Food, Fun, and Honest Takes

    Okinawa Soba Is Good Wherever You Eat It

    I have opinions about ramen, and I’ve worked my way through about ten well-known Okinawa soba shops on the main island. My conclusion: the base is essentially pork-and-bonito broth, topped with thick sanmai-niku (three-layer pork belly, braised soft like kakuni) and fish cake, accented with red pickled ginger and chopped scallion. That’s the template, and there’s no dramatic gap from shop to shop. It reminds me, oddly, of Sugakiya — the ramen chain that was the soul food of my Tokai-region childhood, and which I still visit often.

    That’s not a criticism — it’s good news. No need to queue; walk into whatever place catches your eye and it’ll generally be good. Halfway through, I like adding kōrēgūsu (island chili peppers in awamori) to blow the whole flavor apart. That’s how I enjoy it.

    A&W, and the Taste of Medicated Patches

    Okinawa is the only place in Japan where you can eat at A&W. Whenever I go, I order a root beer without fail. If I had to describe the taste, it’s like Salonpas — a medicated pain-relief patch. And yet I order it anyway. That’s the strange magic of A&W.

    Steak, burgers, tacos, taco rice. Okinawa’s American side lives on, vividly, in its food.

    JUNGLIA — Once Is Enough

    This is a theme park that opened in the north in 2025. My honest impression after going: once is enough. Even my kid said, “Once is fine.”

    If you do go, avoid the hot months. And if a typhoon rolls in, there’s nothing to be done.

    📍 JUNGLIA tickets (Klook)

    Miyako’s Summer Festival

    On Miyako, I went to the island’s rock festival, the MIYAKO ISLAND ROCK FESTIVAL (locals call it “Miya-Rock”). Ketsumeishi, MONGOL800, HY, ORANGE RANGE, BEGIN — in the height of summer, Okinawan artists sharing a stage with mainland acts, a scene that only holds together here. The stage is close enough that you can get swept up in it, beer in hand.


    Practical Info: Driving, Payment, Typhoons

    Getting to Okinawa: most international routes connect through Tokyo, Osaka, or Taipei, and the final leg into Naha is often on a different carrier than your international flight — sometimes a domestic airline like ANA or JAL, sometimes an LCC like Peach or Jetstar. Airline websites generally won’t search across carriers like that, which is where a flight search tool that combines multiple airlines comes in handy.

    📍 Search multi-airline flight routes to Okinawa (Kiwi.com)

    On getting around: on both the main island and the outer islands, having a car is generally more convenient. But there’s an exception — if you’re simply nesting in an outer-island resort, the airport limousine bus, hotel shuttles, and taxis are enough. Some hotels, like Nashiro Beach, run a direct limousine bus from Naha Airport, so a fully car-free stay works.

    📍 Compare rental car rates (GetRentacar.com) 📍 Book a private airport transfer (GetTransfer.com)

    International driving in Japan: if you plan to drive, check the rules for your own country’s license before you go. Japan recognizes the 1949 Geneva Convention International Driving Permit for many countries — but not all, and a few countries require an official Japanese translation of their license instead. Confirm which category yours falls into before you travel.

    The essence of typhoon strategy is choosing a season that won’t get one. Before you think about insurance and refunds, pick March–April or October–November. That’s the most reliable move. If you’re going in summer anyway, always confirm the cancellation policies of your flights and hotel before booking — especially with low-cost carriers, where change and refund terms tend to be strict.

    📍 Get a travel insurance quote (World Nomads)

    Payment: resort hotels and major attractions take cards without issue, but local diners, markets, and some soba shops still run on cash. Keep some yen on hand.

    Staying connected: rather than hunting for a local SIM at the airport, an eSIM lets you land with data already working — Airalo is the easiest way to set one up before you fly.

    📍 Set up a Japan eSIM before you go


    Closing: Practicing Subtraction in Okinawa

    Okinawa is a place that gets simpler the more you go.

    One night in Naha, one at a resort — that’s enough. Want the water? Go to Miyako. Short on time? Day-trip to Kerama. Avoid summer; choose spring or autumn.

    Having seen so many resorts around the world, the reason I keep returning to Okinawa is that the island carries an air that permits you to do nothing — and it’s only two hours away by plane. The sunset falling on Busena Beach, and the saxophone drifting in from somewhere. Every time I remember those, I find myself booking again.

    Next time: Halekulani, Nashiro Beach — or maybe, just maybe, doing nothing at all at a resort on Miyako.