Rainy Days In Hida Takayama
Kanazawa was, without question, our favorite city from our recent trip through central Japan. But honestly, the mountain city of Hida Takayama might have been our favorite if not for the terrible weather during our visit. Christ Broad, the influencer behind the YouTube channel Abroad in Japan, once declared Hida Takayama his favorite town in Japan. Considering how well-traveled he is within Japan, that was quite a glowing review. This town of 90,000 is the gateway to the Japanese Alps and is renowned for preserving its Edo-era architecture and traditional crafts.
This region, long isolated from the rest of Japan because of its high mountains, was once the ancient Province of Hida (飛騨国). In ancient times, the province was so impoverished and sparsely populated that it was exempted from taxes. Takayama was relatively unknown to Western travelers until recently. It turned out to be not entirely the off-the-beaten-path that we initially anticipated. Despite being quite touristy nowadays, the city still retains its immense charm. This is the one city that warrants a follow-up visit.
Hida Furukawa
After the glorious weather in Shirakawa-go, we arrived in the region with a lingering rainstorm. Our first stop was the town of Hida Furukawa (飛騨古川), the small cousin of Takayama. This traditional town is best known for its white-walled storehouses and idyllic canals. Despite being featured in promotional materials often for the entire prefecture, it still sees few visitors. We felt eerie as we walked from the visitor parking lot by the train station to the city center. Few businesses were open on a Monday morning, and hardly any pedestrians or visitors were around. For a moment, I wondered whether we were in the wrong town.
Soon enough, we arrived at Hida Furukawa’s main attraction: Shirakabe Dozogai Street (白壁土蔵街). This 500-meter-long residential street is lined with beautiful Edo-era architecture and the Seto Canal (瀬戸川). The white-washed walls and black wooden trims are in immaculate condition. However, the star attraction is the 1,000 colorful carp fish that live here from April to November each year. A series of metal gates ensure they are distributed evenly along the canal. Visitors could purchase bags of stale bread for ¥100 each along the canal. We were surprised Joe was so into the feeding.
On the last Saturday of November, hundreds of residents gathered to remove all the carp one by one from the canal. They were transferred to Tenjin Pond so they could weather the winter. This yearly event symbolizes the change of season and preparation for the harsh winter months. A similar celebration occurred in April when they were transferred back to the canal. According to the official website, visitors could arrange to help catch and release the carp via the local tourism board.
In many ways, Hida Furukawa shares many cultural similarities with Takayama. Chief among them are the traditions of woodworking and sake brewing. Within the old town, there are quite a few traditional sake distilleries. We soon learned that the best way to identify a distillery is a ball made of cryptomeria leaves that hang from over the building’s entrance. Known as sugidama (杉玉), this type of ball signified the season for new sake production. At the beginning of the season, sugidama are green and gradually wither into brown color toward the season’s end. It is just one of those uniquely Japanese symbols that will stay in your mind forever.
Perhaps the most celebrated traditional craft famous in Hida-Furukawa is handmade candles. Anyone looking for unique souvenirs might want to check out Mishima Japanese candle shop. At nearly 250 years old, this is one of the oldest candle shops in Japan that sells only handmade candles. These specialty candles are made of natural materials and carry a unique wick made of washi paper, wick, and cotton, which makes it difficult to extinguish. The unique curvature of the overall silhouette is designed to prevent melted wax from running down the sides of the candle.
This candle shop also plays a pivotal role in the annual Santera Mairi Festival (三寺まいり), the “Three Temples Pilgrimage.” Every January 15th, worshipers from around Japan visit the town’s three main Buddhist temples. The ceremonies are said to grant eternal love to young couples or newlyweds. The town’s historic center and the canal would be filled with candles and floating lanterns. The festival culminates with the lighting of enormous 6-foot candles donated by the Mishima candle shop to the three temples.
The other famous festival here is the aptly named Furukawa Festival (古川祭). This annual two-day spring festival celebrates the Shino deity of the ancestors and involves public parades. The first night involved the scrimmage of groups of scantly clad men with plenty of drumming of oversized taiko drums. As many as a thousand local male parishioners partook in the action. in addition, there were also acrobatic performances, which seemed quite dangerous. The night is filled with overflowing emotion; the burst of energy symbolizes leaving the winter behind and the arrival of springtime.
The following day, the festival continues with a parade of nine elaborately crafted floats. Known as yatai, these floats are unique to the Gifu Prefecture and a tribute to the region’s long tradition of woodworking and lacquerwork. Each is different in design, and many include intricate mechanical devices such as marionettes and musical instruments. The peaceful and dignified procession is a purposeful contrast with the raucous evening before. For the rest of the year, these massive yatai reside in individual purpose-built storehouses sprinkled across the tow. Since their doors may be closed much of the year, a handy plaque out front provides good information in both Japanese and English.
Since most of us are not fortunate enough to witness the festival, visitors to the Hida Furukawa Festival Exhibition Hall for ¥700. This small museum houses a rotating collection of yatai, a documentary movie, and other related artifacts. And those of us who are short on time, stop by the nearby otabisho of Keta Wakamiya Shrine (気多若宮神社御旅所). For a mere ¥100 donation, we had a chance to play one of the major ceremonial drums used in the festival.
On our way back to the train station, I made the point to stop at the railway overpass over the local JR Station. Unbeknownst to most foreign visitors, Hida Furukawa is a place of pilgrimage for anime fans because it served as the inspiration for the fictional town of Itomori in the popular 2016 anime fantasy film Your Name (君の名は). The tourism numbers have allegedly surged since the film’s premiere. Around the station were numerous movie posters and directions to various spots in town featured in the film.
Hida-Takayama
As we arrived in central Hida-Takayama, the weather continued to deteriorate. We made a beeline for the Wood Hotel Takayama, one of the few major hotels within the historic center. Hida Takayama (飛騨高山), meaning “tall mountain” in Japanese, is technically the second-largest Japanese city by geographic area, just marginally smaller than Tokyo. A town of 80,000, Takayama feels manageable and retains its historical ambiance better than Kanazawa or large sections of Kyoto. The scenic mountain landscape and the Miyagawa River add to its historic ambiance.
Most of Takayama’s historic neighborhoods and landmarks are on the river's eastern bank. The Takayama Historical District (高山古い町並) consists of three main streets that run parallel to the river. These streets have been pedestrianized and have become a striving commercial district catered exclusively to tourism. The Edo-era timber structures may be the draw, but our favorite feature is the gushing water along the street gutters. They may not have swimming carp, but the water quality was still superb. It is a testament to Japan’s social cohesion commitment to the environment.
Takayama’s charm seemed very well-advertised. The crowd of tourists here was almost at the level we experienced in Kyoto’s historic Higashiyama District. These pedestrian streets have numerous bars, souvenir shops, and cafes. This is probably the best shopping destination we came across on this trip. From Japanese folding fans to Daruma dolls, the collections of traditional souvenirs are comprehensive. There is also a wide variety of omiyage native to the Hida region. Among my favorites are all the drinks and snacks made of Hida’s apples; the wafer-thin apple cookie crisp I bought here is an absolute triumph.
The most famous specialty here is Hida Beef (飛騨牛). A breed of Japanese black-haired Wagyu, Hida Beef may not be as prestigious or well-known as Kobe or Matsusaka Beef, but it still holds its own in the pantheon of Japanese wagyu. Within the historic center, countless vendors are selling all kinds of snacks made of Hida Beef. These include steamed beef buns, charcoaled grilled beef skewers, and Hida Beef jerky. However, Takyama’s signature snack is nigiri sushi, topped with a Grade 5 Hida Beef slice. They are typically served up on a piece of edible rich cracker.
These beef sushi may be tasty, but all the foodies know the best way to enjoy this precious meat is at a local yakiniku or sukiyaki restaurant. We were fortunate enough to enjoy a high-end char-grilled Hida Beef at Matsuki-Ushi, one of Takayama’s most revered steakhouses, and it was truly phenomenal. On the other hand, the price tag was quite scary. I couldn’t help thinking whether I preferred the all-you-can-eat yakiniku experience we had in Tokyo. Our Hida Beef journey continued with a tasty sukiyaki at the much more affordable Aji-no-Yohei. Those on a limited budget should try out Hida beef with Hoba miso (朴葉味噌). This regional dish is commonly cooked over a piece of Hoba leaf on a tiny charcoal grill (shichirin).
Historically, Takayama's wealth derived from the vast timber reserve of the Japanese Alp. They include highly prized species like Japanese cedar, cypress, and chestnut. In feudal Japan, quality lumber was a precious resource, making the control of Takayama extremely coveted among the warlords, so much so this area came under the direct control of the Tokugawa shogunate during the Edo period. So it should not be surprising that the Hida region has long traditional woodworking. Known collectively as Master Builders of Hida (飛騨の匠), they were very often drafted for grand construction projects in Nara and Kyoto. At its height, upward of 80,000 Hida artisans worked in the capital simultaneously.
The city's architectural highlight is the three-story pagoda at Hida Kokubun-ji (飛騨国分寺), which is among the most elaborate pagodas in the country. However, these craftsmen are masters in traditional construction techniques and intricate yew wood carvings, such as Ichii Itto Bori (一位一刀彫) and Hida lacquerware (飛騨春慶). Keen observers can spot a wide range of Ichii Itto Bori sculptures in public areas around town. Left intentionally unpainted, these artworks gradually acquire a unique luster as they age.
There is a wide range of shops in Takayama that celebrate woodworking. From collector-grade Noh masks to single wooden mugs, there is something for every budget and aesthetic. Design emporiums such as Takumi-kan pull together products from major workshops around Takayama. You could also pick up many of the same products on sale throughout the historic center. Many Japanese come to Takayama to shop for custom furniture. Many shops offer extensive collections of live edge hardwood slabs to choose from.
Since we have limited luggage space, I had set my sights on a pair of limited-edition wooden mugs exclusively available at Takayam'a sole Starbucks. They were part of Starbucks’s “JIMOTO made” collection, a unique collaboration initiative with local artisans. This distinctive collection is handmade with local traditions and materials. Of the 14 regional designs in the collection, Hida-Takayma’s all-wood design is the most unique. Because only a few of these collectible mugs are released weekly, they were highly coveted by tourists and Starbucks enthusiasts. Sure enough, they were sold out when we showed up at Starbucks.
The most iconic symbol of Takayama is an enigmatic figure named sarubobo (さるぼぼ)., meaning “happy monkey baby.” Traditionally made of scraps of leftover red fabric, these dolls are typically made by grandmothers for their grandchildren as gifts. They are amulets that are said to celebrate fertility and safe childbirth. Although they were once quite widespread in central Japan, these traditional dolls are now closely associated with Takayama and the larger Hida region, including Hida Furukawa and Shirakawa-go.
The most dramatic characteristic of sarubobo is its featureless face. Experts could not agree on how this came about. The most compelling explanation I read is that the absence of a face allows children to project their thoughts and emotions onto these dolls. It was very appropriate. we spotted Hello Kitty dressed as sarubobo. Hello Kitty famously has no eyebrows or mouth. Like sarubobo, the kitty is also expressionless and a blank canvas for its fans. On the other hand, the two could not be all different. While Hello Kitty is adorable, am I alone thinking sarubobo reminded me of voodoo dolls used in some satanic rituals?
Even though I think they are sinister-looking, sarubobo is an extremely popular souvenir among tourists. Traditionally, sarubobo only came in red. Some believe the red represents life and prosperity, while others say it is just the colors of Japanese monkeys' faces. Due to its popularity, sarubobo comes in ten colors for different prayers. My personal favorite are the black ones, which are used to ward off bad luck. I later found out there is a variant of sarubobo called tobibobo (くくり猿); they almost look like a sarubobo doing skydiving!
The prevalence of sarubobo in Takayama is undeniable. It was fun to scavenge hunt for them while walking through the streets. Visitors may find Sarubobo at almost every shop, but the best place to pick one up is at the Miyagawa Morning Markets (宮川朝市). This quarter-mile-long market stretches between the Kaji Bashi Bridge and the Yayoi Bashi Bridge along the Miyagawa River. It is allegedly the largest daily morning market in Japan. Until recently, only local farmers were allowed to set up stalls here, and visiting there is still the best way to support local producers directly.
Because I grew up in Taiwan, where morning markets are the norm, my experience in this market was underwhelming. It may have been the drizzling weather, but there were hardly more than a dozen vendors on the morning of our visit. Only half were selling farms traditional farm products like summer berries and homemade pickles vegetables. That was hardly surprising, considering tourists vastly outnumber locals on rainy days. The nearby Jinya-mae Morning Market (陣屋前朝市) is even smaller. Seeing a giant tour group of two dozen Western tourists congregating around the singular open stall there that morning was amusing.
Among travelers, Takayama is perhaps best known for the biannual Takayama Festival (高山祭). Like the Furukawa Festival mentioned earlier, this festival originated from a Shinto ritual of a single shrine and gradually developed into a massive parade involving the entire town. Today, the Takayama Festival is regarded as one of the three great festivals in Japan, along with Kyoto’s Gion Festival and the Night Festival in Chichibu. The spring festival is to pray for a good harvest, while the autumn festival gives thanks for the god’s bounty. The springtime festival is popular, as it coincides with Takayama’s cherry blossom. Potential participants should make hotel and train reservations half a year in advance.
What made this festival so famous were the twelve ornamental festival floats (yatai). As Takayama became increasingly wealthy over the centuries, the once simple float became increasingly elaborate. Each neighborhood leverages its army of artisans to create over-the-top floats. Like Furukawa, each flat is typically housed in its purpose-built storehouse in its own “home” neighborhood. But to allow visitors to appreciate their beauty and majesty year-round, four of the yatai are displayed inside the purpose-built Takayama Festival Exhibition Hall (高山祭屋台会館). The floats were rotated three times everywhere to allow all twelve to be on display.
The first thing that surprised me was how tall and slanty these flats were. To clear the overhead wires or tori gates, most have a genius' telescoping' skeletal frame to achieve great height, allowing the top tiers to be lifted. At nighttime, racks of glowing lanterns are strapped on the side of the yatai to create incredibly festive sights. Teams of parishioners would pull all these floats, all dressed in traditional costumes. A documentary film inside the hall gave us a glimpse into the sights and sounds of the festivity.
But considering the ¥1,000 admission, the official exhibition is somewhat of a letdown. Even though these are authentic floats from the festival, they were all kept behind glass a distance away. The admission also included a visit to the nearby Sakurayama Nikkokan Hall. It housed a 10:1 model of Nikko’s Toshogu Shrine (日光東照宮), which is dedicated to the first shogun of the Tokugawa Shogunate. Often celebrated as the most elaborate shrine in Japan, Toshogu Shrine is widely attributed to Hidari Jingoro, a famous master carpenter from Takayama. The intricate models took a team of 33 craftsmen fifteen years to complete.
Oddly enough, the best place to learn about the Takayama Festival is Matsuri no Mori Museum (まつりの森), ten minutes outside of the city center. This unusual museum complex includes an insectarium, a natural history museum, and a traditional craft gallery. However, what draws the most visitors is its “Festa Forest,” which includes six faithful full-size replicas of the Takayama Festival floats and an additional eleven miniature floats. Housed within an underground geo-dome, we felt transported into an alien world.
Compared to the official museum we visited earlier, this exhibit felt exuberant. These replicas are rigged with lanterns and automatons. These yatai have live demonstrations of puppetry and traditional music. While they are not the live performance and hand-operated marionettes of the authentic yatai, the performance gave us a glimpse of the entertainment effects of these floats. The mechanical puppet (karakuri) is the work of famous puppet master Jinbei Ban’ya. The crowd favorite is Fukujudai (福壽台), where a tiny canon would fire paper fortunes down at the end of each performance.
Although they may be slightly underwhelming in the age of special effects and social media, I can imagine how these marionettes would have thrilled the crowd in the feudal period. One could only hope these traditional crafts could persevere in the 21st century. Besides the festival floats, there are other automatons for lion dancing and taiko drumming. But the highlight for us was a pair of comical Japanese figures called Hyottoko (火男) and Otafuku (阿多福). Both creepy and humorous, they are difficult to forget.
Before heading out of Takayama, we couldn’t miss out on the Takayama Shōwa-kan Museum (高山昭和館), a hidden gem highly recommended by Abroad in Japan. The little museum pays tribute to the life and culture of Showa-era Japan. Showa refers to the reign of Emperor Hirohito, which lasted from 1926 to 1989. Japan experienced dramatic changes during his long reign. Despite the horrors of World War II, most Japanese associate the Showa era with the post-war economic boom. Japan was the world’s second-largest economy and a technological powerhouse in its heyday. The nostalgia for this bygone era is still widely celebrated today.
Growing up in Taiwan, I felt strangely familiar with the Showa era. Even though Taiwan ceased to be a Japanese colony in 1949, my grandparents retained many aspects of Japanese cultural traditions and artifacts. I can’t help being a little emotional as I walked through the museum’s meandering paths. The museum faithfully recreated themes of Show-era spaces like classrooms, barber shops, and record parlors. From hand-painted movie posters to vintage vehicles, the details here are mesmerizing. I only wish my parents could be there to share their nostalgia with us.
On the other hand, Joe was too young to appreciate the concept of nostalgia. I took pride in pointing out many relics of the past unfamiliar to him. He certainly enjoyed a few rounds of pachinko and first-edition Nintendo Super Mario. I can’t help but wonder which part of our contemporary era will be preserved for a “nostalgia museum" of the future. For anyone who prefers not to fork over the ¥1,000 admission, their little dagashi (駄菓子) shop up in front is reason enough for a visit.