The Photographer's Paradise of Shirakawago

This is, very simply, one of the most aesthetically striking places in all of Japan.

You don't need to be a photographer to appreciate Shirakawago, though its incredible beauty has attracted domestic and foreign photographers in droves. If you're a casual tourist wanting to snap a few pretty photos for your desktop, I guarantee you won't go home disappointed. And even without a camera, this is the most romantic place to just breath in the rustic atmosphere, and let it forever imprint in your mind.



To the Japanese, the name Shirakawago conjures the image of an immortal hamlet, the glow of a the ancestral hearth, the warmth of family bonding from a bygone age and, in general, paradise on earth. Though the recent arrival of mass tourism has shifted the focus of the village from its age-old subsistent farming roots to modern commercialism, the traditional townscape has stayed remarkably unchanged, due mostly to the local government's commitment to uphold the UNESCO World Heritage standards. To this day you still won't find any luxury Ryokans in the village, let alone a multi-storey hotel. After all, the biggest selling point here is the unique experience of spending a night under the giant thatched roof of a Gassho-zukuri farmhouse.



What's so special about this steep thatched roof? The Japanese consider it a national treasure, one of the best examples of human ingenuity against the forces of nature. Located at the northern edge of the Japan Alps, this region sees the moist air from the Sea of Japan coast turned into metres upon metres of heavy snowfall every
winter. As a simple matter of survival, the ancient people invented a unique architectural plan to guard against the cold, the wood-rotting moisture, and most importantly the real possibility of the roof collapsing under the snow.



Back in those days Shirakawago lived in its own isolated world, cut off from the outside civilization for months at a time by the snowy mountains. Even though the Kaga Prefecture to the northwest produced the best earthen roof tiles in the feudal ages, the locals came up with their own solution -- a one-metre-thick thatched roof with superb insulation and waterproofing capability.



Underneath the roof stood the gigantic cedar pillars and beams harvested from the nearby mountains, held together by nothing but hand-woven ropes. An open hearth was strategically placed at the centre of the house, not only to serve as a heating source, but also to fumigate the ropes under the roof to give them water- and
insect-repellant qualities. The solution is as architecturally functional as it is visually impressive.



Even today most villagers still live inside their own Gassho-zukuri farmhouses, many dating from the era of the Tokugawa Shoguns a couple centuries ago. A few of the best-preserved houses belonging to the wealthiest families have been converted into museums, but most have survived into the 21st Century as fully functional homes to local working families, albeit taking on the extra function as shops or Minshuku guesthouses.



Sons and daughters continue to hand-plant this year's rice seedlings in the same ancestral fields that their great grandfather cultivated, often drawing the camera flashes of their curious guests. The indigenous strain of rice continues to serve as the staple food it has been for centuries, and the excess continues to be fermented into the strange-tasting Doburoku wine (unfiltered wine with rice chunks in it ... way too strong for my tastebuds). There still exists a very pronounced communal side to Shirakawago when you look past the tourism. The Japanese in general are a very cooperative people with a strong sense of the community, which doesn't get much more evident than in Shirakawago.



Example? A brand new roof generally lasts only about 30 years, which means that a few of the 100-or-so thatched roofs will need to be rethatched every spring. We're talking about ripping out a 10 x 12 x 1 metres chunk of compacted thatch, and replacing it with fresh, loose straws that first needs to be tied into bunches
and secured onto the house frame -- a task too big for even the biggest family in the village.



If you're lucky enough to arrive in early April of any given year, you can see the entire village coming out to rethatch a few of the oldest, leakiest roofs. Literally dozens of villagers can be seen standing on the roof together to secure the thatch under the command of the experienced elders. And if you can speak Japanese,
you can even apply to become a volunteer in the roofing effort and experience the communal spirit yourself.



Can't make it in early April? No worries, as there are many other wonderfully picturesque occasions throughout the year. We arrived during the rice planting season in late May, when domestic photographers and painters turned up to capture the reflection of the village upon the artificially flooded rice fields. Villagers and
their kids came out in full farming gear, rubber boots and all, and hand planted each seedling that will produce the one annual crop in the coming Autumn. This is the one crop of rice that will feed the entire family -- and the guests if the family is running a Minshuku guesthouse -- for the whole year.



Staying at a Minshuku is a MUST for anyone wishing for the full Shirakawago experience, even if you understand not a word of Japanese. Your host family will take in your luggage while you go out for sightseeing, serve you tea and snacks when you come back to rest your weary legs, sell you discounted tickets to the local hotspring,
fluff up your feather-filled futon for a sound night of sleep on the Tatami mat, and cook you a multi-course dinner and breakfast using their freshest local organic ingredients ... while you lounge around their little square hearth. I've got so many pictures from the Minshuku that I'll need to separate it out into the next article. Do yourself a favor -- don't settle for a day trip and cheat yourself out of one of the most authentically Japanese experiences.

What is there to do after settling into your Minshuku? Shirakawago has an impressive number of attractions given its relatively small size, which takes no more than 8 minutes of walking from one end of the village to the other. Befitting its UNESCO World Heritage status, the major sights here are all designated as Important Cultural Property of some sort.



GASSHO-ZUKURI MINKA-EN


By far the best exhibits are the excellent collection of farmhouses within the open-air museum of Gassho-zukuri Minka-en, located on the other side of the Shogawa River.



Inside the museum stands some of the best specimens of rural Japanese architecture, the star attraction being the preservation of the entire desserted village of Kazura, just 20 km to the north before its valley was flooded and turned into a hydro-electricity project. When the villagers launched a final exodus around 1967, several of the most impressive houses were saved by a massive conservation effort and relocated to their current location here in Shirakawago. There is a subtitled interview documentary playing inside one of these houses, in which the surviving villagers recounted their daily life in Kazura as school-aged children and ended up in tears. Very universally human and well worth the 15 minutes.



The interiors are exceptionally well preserved, sporting fully functional hearths and various hand-crafted household items, many dating from the era of the Shoguns. The ground floor typically consists of the communal living spaces, an unfloored kitchen, and even horse stables for the more affluent families. Detailed exhibitions of the traditional industries of silkworm farming and gunpowder production are given in the upper floors. And the best part was ... authentic 70-degree-steep ladders provide access all the way to the top floor in some of the sturdier houses, which afford a great view over what remains of the Kazura village.



Besides farmhouse residences there are also storage sheds, Shinto shrines, grain stores, water-powered mills, and even functional toilets ... all built in Gassho-zukuri style with the signature thatched roofs. And as expected a couple have been converted into noodle stands and souvenir shops, but that's just the commercial side that pays for the cost of preserving the complex. Entrance cost 500 yen (CAD$5), a bargain IMHO if you compare it to the other two open-air farmhouse museums at Takayama and Gero.

Official Site (in Japanese): http://www.geocities.jp/psgifu/



THE RESIDENCES OF WADA-KE, NAGASE-KE AND KANDA-KE


These were the residences of the wealthiest clans in the village, now all converted (at least partially) into museums and openly displayed to the public. You can visit all three if you have the time, but any one of them will give you a good idea of rural life in this mountainous region as it used to be a few centuries back.

Out of the three, Wada-ke boasts the largest and most luxurious Gassho-zukuri house in the village, which remains continually inhabited to this day. But since the top floors are the living spaces of the Wada family, only the bottom two floors are open to tourists. Nagase-ke is slightly smaller, but lets you climb all the way to the fourth floor. Kanda-ke comes from an offshoot of the Wada family, is the smallest house of the three, but allows access to the top floors. Tough choices ... and we ended up going to the Wada-ke.



You can tell from the heirloom collection of antique lacquerware in the communal space that the Wada must have been one of the most prominent families in the region. In fact, since the 16th Century the head of the family had always served as the village chief, passing down the hereditary name of Wada Yaemon from father to eldest son. As expected the details of the house reached a level of lavishness beyond any other building in the village ... but was it worth the 300 yen? Probably, but it definitely wasn't as much of a bargain as the Gassho-zukuri Minka-en.

Links:
Wada-ke - http://www.shirakawa-go.gr.jp/details/?i=68
Nagase-ke - http://www.shirakawa-go.gr.jp/details/?i=69
Kanda-ke - http://kandahouse.web.fc2.com


THE VIEWING PLATFORM


This is everyone's favorite photo spot, the one attraction nobody would miss. Formerly the site of the local warlord's castle stronghold, the elevated platform now provides a majestic vantage point over the entire village.

If you're in reasonable physical shape, consider taking the scenic uphill walk to the platform, which should take less than 40 minutes from the Information Centre. Alternatively, you could pay 200 yen (CAD$2) and hop on the shuttle bus, which departs every half hour until 16:00 or so.


OTHER NOTABLE SIGHTS

The two major places of worship in the village, one Buddhist and one Shinto, are open to visitors. The 200-year-old Buddhist temple of Myozenji is the tallest thatched roof building in the village, with 5 storeys of towering splendor now housing a modest folk museum that charges 300 yen (CAD$3) for entrance. The Shinto shrine of Shirakawa Hachiman Jinja is even older, but it's not a Gassho-zukuri structure and therefore looks just just like any other dilapidating shrine anywhere else in Japan. Right next to the shrine stands the little museum known as Doburoku-Matsuri no Yakata, which will show you every little details of the village's major annual festival for another 300 yen.

There's a little hotspring at the far end of the village, costing 700 yen (CAD$7) to day-trippers, but you can buy a discounted ticket for 500 yen from your host if you're staying at a Minshuku. I'll write a review in the next article.


WHEN TO VISIT

Shirakawago holds a number of quirky little festivals throughout the year, the most internationally popular being the "Light-Up Festival" held over several weekends in January and February. Spotlights are brought in to illuminate the snow-covered thatched roofs in an attempt to create a romantic winter wonderland atmosphere ...
except for the coachloads of tourists and photographers snapping pictures everywhere.


Rethatching of the roofs, with the participation of the entire village, takes place in early April. The Sakura season arrives in mid April and blooms until early May, and rice planting gets kicked off at its own little festival in late May. July and August is best avoided, as the whole nation seems to come out for summer
vacation and overruns the little village.

The biggest crowds of the year congregate in mid October for the Doburoku festival, when the unfiltered wine is poured out for everyone, the village swells to several times its normal population, and TV crews from all over Japan comes for the footage of the good natured chaos that ensues. The Autumn foliage season arrives early amidst the cool mountain air, and comes into a full display of colours around late October. The first snow usually arrives in mid to late December, in case you're hoping for a white Christmas.


TRANSPORTATION

It used to take days to get through the treacherous mountain passes to reach Shirakawago, until modern engineering blasted Highway 156 through this region in the 1950's. Even today Highway 156 still gets closed off a few times a year due to heavy snowfall. So this should give you a rough idea of the advance planning it typically takes to get to Shirakawago -- most tourist would need a half day just to get here, stay overnight, then take another half day to get back to the rest of civilization.


That has changed since July 2008 with the completion of the Tokai-Hokuriku Expressway, effectively halving the travel time into the region. Though I would NEVER recommend it ... it's now possible to make Shirakawago a day-trip destination from either Takayama (50 minutes by bus) or Kanazawa (75 minutes by bus), both world class destinations in their own rights. IMHO the best route would be to do Takayama -> Shirakawago -> Kanazawa (or vice versa) as part of a grand tour of Central Japan, if you can afford the time and budget.


From Takayama / Kanazawa

The Nohi Bus company operates the excellent bus route from Takayama through Shirakawago to Kanazawa. English timetables are available from their new English website.

From Takayama, there are at least 4 daily buses that don't require prior reservation, plus more buses on weekends, holidays and the summer high season. 2400 yen (CAD$24) one-way; 4300 (CAD$43) round trip.

From Kanazawa, 3 daily buses depart from just outside the JR Kanazawa Station, costing 1800 yen (CAD$18) one-way, 3200 (CAD$32) round trip. But note that this bus is by reservation only, through Hokuriku Railway's reservation centre (Tel: 076-234-0123).

Bus Reservation in Japan It's not as difficult as it sounds. This is how we made made our bus reservations: 1) We reserved bus tickets through the Internet by registering as a member at the J-Bus reservation site, in Japanese ... you'll need to negotiate through the Japanese webpages, but it's the safest way as you get a confirmation page for printing out. 2) The easier, but slightly tricky way is to ask the Tourist Information Centre at your airport of arrival to make this reservation for you, providing you get to the Information Centre between 09:00 and 18:00, the typical business hours of most bus companies. If you arrive outside of these hours, you'll need to go to your local Tourist Information Centre and hope the staffs speak reasonable English. 3) Or as a last resort, you can make a reservation for the next day when you get to the bus station, though this is getting real risky in case you get there on a national holiday or during some local festival.

From Nagoya

The only direct bus route is operated by Gifu Bus, which costs 3500 yen (CAD$35) and depart daily at 09:00 from the Meitetsu Bus Centre, which is the next building from the JR Nagoya Station. This is also the quickest route, taking less than 3 hours. However, this bus operates only from April to November, and there's only one bus per day. Oh, and this bus is by reservation only.

If that doesn't work for you, your best bet would be to take the JR Train or the cheaper Meitetsu Bus to Takayama first, then follow the above instructions to get to Shirakawago.

JR's Express Train (nicknamed Wideview Hida) departs hourly, and gets you to Takayama in less than 2.5 hours comfortably for 5360 yen (CAD$54). Alternatively the Meitetsu Bus departs costs only 2900 yen (CAD$29) and takes slightly longer (2 hours 45 minutes), departing outside the JR Nagoya Station. Nohi Bus operates part of the route, so you can also go to its English site to get more information. Note that this bus is also by reservation only.



From Tokyo

Again you'll need to get to Takayama first. Easiest way to get to Takayama from Tokyo is by Nohi Bus's express bus route, departing outside Shinjuku Station's West Exit and gets you there for 6500 yen in 5.5 hours. There are 4 daily buses, and ... you guessed it ... this bus is also by reservation only.

Alternatively you could take the Shinkansen bullet train to Nagoya, then the JR Express Train to Takayama and get there in less than 5 hours. But this would cost more than twice the bus fare, and thus makes sense only for JR Pass holders.


From Osaka

You should know by now ... get to Takayama first. Nohi Bus operates two daily buses from Osaka, taking more than 5 hours and costing 5500 yen (CAD$55). This is also a reservation-only bus route. Again, JR Pass holders can simply take the bullet train to Nagoya and transfer to the hourly-departing Express train to Takayama.

MY WIFE'S CORNER Shirakawago belongs to the historical province of Hida, a mountainous region with its own peculiar food culture. One of its signature culinary practices involves the use of magnolia leaves (Hoba) for wrapping sushi and as a dish for grilling meat and vegetables in Miso paste. This Hello Kitty cellphone pendant is titled simply "Hida-ji" (Hida Road) Edition, with Kitty dressed in the region's traditional outfit and wrapped in a Hoba. It can be purchased from any of Shirakawago's local souvenir stores for about 450 yen.

Gokayama - Japan's Shangri-La in the Mountains

This article is for those intrepid travelers looking for a uniquely exotic experience -- a taste of real life in rural Japan back in the 18th Century.



Before anyone reads on and possibly falls in love with Gokayama's unique charm, I must warn that this is a place where...

1) very little English is understood ... it's okay not to understand Japanese, but you'll need to communicate in body gestures
2) it's hours away from any major city ... practically in the middle of a remote mountain range
3) there's no hotel, and not even a full Japanese Ryokan ... you'll stay in one of their giant farmhouses with a thatched-roof

But once you get over these inconveniences, you'll be rewarded with a one-of-a-kind cultural experience even most of the Japanese never get to know.



Gokayama is a close collection of ancient rice-cultivating villages hidden deep inside the snowy mountains of Central Japan, famous as a UNESCO World Heritage Site for its cultural importance, yet fortunate enough to stay off the course of the relentless Japanese tourists. Villagers carry on their unhurried, self-subsistent farming from time immemorial, and (typically Japanese) guests get a glimpse of an old feudal lifestyle thought to be gone forever, especially to those coming from Tokyo or Kansai.

These aren't typical Japanese farmhouses, but colossal 3 to 5-storey buildings with gigantic cedar pillars and beams held together with only hand-woven ropes, and covered with the signature 3-feet thick thatched roof. This style of architecture is known as Gassho-zukuri (literally "Praying-hands Construction"), as the steepness of the roof is said to resemble the pressing-together of the hands during a buddhist prayer. This was developed, of course, as a defense against the region's heavy snowfall, which had isolated this region from the outside world for centuries and contributed to the development of its own unique culture. Even today the village gets snowed-in occasionally during its unpredictable winter.



We arrived at Gokayama's largest village, Ainokura, on a drizzly day during the May rice-planting season -- you can see the rice paddy fields in the foreground, artificially flooded a couple inches deep in preparation for the planting of rice seedlings. Occasionally a villager would come out with a rectangular tray full of green seedlings, waddle into the semi-submerged field, and insert each seedling into the mud by hand, row by row. Almost everyone we met was a villager -- we ran into less than 20 tourists the entire day. With an entire village of thatch roofs and snow-capped mountain peaks in the backdrop, it was the most peaceful, enchanted little hamlet, an oasis of ancient civilization and felt a million miles away from ultra-modern Tokyo.

So what are the sights? There's a museum and a shrine in the village, several hiking trails with elevated viewpoints above the village, and a little hotspring (Kuroba Onsen) accessible by car or the local bus less than 15 minutes away. But by far the best sight was ... our Minshuku guesthouse!


Hotel Review: Minshuku Goyomon (Gokayama)
Address: Toyama-ken Nanto-shi Ainokura 438
Price: 7850 yen per person including dinner and breakfast
Website/Map: http://www.goyomon.burari.biz/
How To Book:We faxed our booking request to the Gokayama Tourism Association ... in Japanese! I'm serious ... they hadn't grasped the concept of Internet yet, and even though someone made them a website, they didn't advertise any email addresses and wanted people to either call them or fax them. BUT ... the Association emailed us back when they wanted to confirmed our booking! Their email is info@gokayama-info.jp. Now you don't have to go through the whole faxing thing to book a room!
Directions: Refer to the Transportation section at the end of this article.


Like any other Gassho-zukuri farmhouse in the village, Goyomon is an architectural treasure of World Heritage status and protected by the charters of UNESCO. Think the Great Wall of China or the Leaning Tower of Pisa, and you'll understand our excitement about spending a night inside one of these testaments of human ingenuity. Inside its rustic minimalist beauty, it was quite easy to forget that Goyomon wasn't a museum, but a real home with a real family of ordinary people living in it.



Welcoming us into the guest-reception room was the alluring smell of Iwana trouts roasting in the square fire pit ... for our dinner. The setting was so surreal, as if we walked right into a Samurai movie or an Anime.



At the centre of any Gassho-zukuri house lies a square hearth (Irori), which not only provided the main source of heating back in the old days, but also served the important function of fumigating and hardening the network of ropes at the attic holding the house together. Back when the entire extended family used to live in one ancestral house, so the large room surrounding the fireplace also served as the living and dining room for up to 20 people. On this day it served just the two of us, as we turned out to be the only group of guests staying over on that particular night.



Goyomon was built in the final years of the Tokugawa Shogunate, before Japan opened its doors to the Western world, which makes it about 150 years old. But you wouldn't know judging from the immaculate condition of the house's interior. Apart from the little gas heater in the corner, time has stood still since the 1860's. Calligraphy plaques grace the aesthetic positions in the rooms, in this case imparting the traditional theme of "Loyalty and Filial Piety".



Being the only group of guests meant that we got one of the best rooms, consisting of two 6-Tatami-mat rooms divided by a typical sliding panel, and could have easily slept 4 people. The feather-filled futons and blankets were heavenly soft, especially compared to the cheap business hotel where we stayed the previous night at Kanazawa. But the best part was the view outside the window ...



... which looked exactly like this -- no exaggeration. Four-storey tall giant farmhouses, lush green primeval forests, and snow-capped mountains. We bought this Noren (warmth curtain) from the village's little souvenir store to remind us of the view outside our window on this magical day. To steal a line from the MasterCard commercial, it was ... priceless.



While the hostess was serving tea upon our early afternoon arrival, she asked us the surprising question of whether we liked to take a hotspring bath! As it turned out, our lodging price included a free dip at the little neighborhood hotspring bathhouse (which normally costs 600 yen!) plus free transportation in the hostess's own mini-van. The hotspring's name was Kuroba Onsen, an very old name which even our hostess didn't know what it stood for ... it could be "Black Horse", "Black Leaf", "Black Feather" etc, and she just wasn't sure.



Since we're in a remote little village in the middle of nowhere, we anticipated the neighborhood bathhouse to be a primitive, run-down wooden hut, but Kuroba Onsen turned out we beyond our expectations. It's a new two-storey building built right on the lake shore, with a restaurant, a relaxation room with coin-op massaging chairs, an indoor jacuzzi pool, and a semi open-air hotspring pool with a 180-degree panoramic view of the lake. No Konyoku (mixed gender bathing) here, in case you're wondering.



The hostess dropped us off at the Onsen for a couple hours and then picked us up in time for dinner. Maybe it was the blood circulation enhancement effects of the hotspring, but we worked up a voracious appetite. The meal consisted of 9 courses prepared with their local organic ingredients, which is to say relatively simplistic in Japanese terms (no fancy seafood or beef).



The sashimi dish was called Koi-no-Arai ("rinsed carp"), a freshwater fish found in the local mountain streams but mostly farmed nowadays. The texture was slightly chewy with a clean taste, but undermined by just the slightest hint of a "muddy" flavor.

"Muddy" flavor? The Japanese call it "Dorokusa", describing a subtle unpleasant flavor found in most freshwater fish. There are some fortunate people such as my wife who don't seem to possess the tastebuds to detect it, but for me it's so repulsive that I have given up on most freshwater fish. This Koi fish wasn't bad actually ... I just needed a little more wasabi than usual.



Here's the Iwana trout seen roasting at the hearth earlier. It looked the most impressive out of the nine courses, but the flavor turned out rather ordinary, and nowhere as good as ...



... this wonderful Tempura dish, which was by far the best course in the meal. Fresh, perfectly crisp and without a hint of oiliness ... a level of top restaurant quality you wouldn't expect from a rural housewife.

But the even better was the fresh, rare ingredients you won't easily find in Tokyo or Osaka (aside from the baby eggplant). In fact you won't find most of these vegetables even in the local farms -- these were wild, indigenous plants gathered from the same surrounding mountains that has been supplying these ancient villages for a millenium.

And the best of the best? The hostess called the green leafy plant in the picture "Yama-udo". The Chinese use its roots in traditional medicine, while the Japanese prize the young leaves as a delicacy. This was my first encounter with its wildly fragrant, somewhat herbal aroma, and to this day it remains one of my favorite memories of the food in Central Japan.

That's how good it was -- clearly the hostess's best dish and she knew it. When I complimented that her "Yasai no Tempura" (vegetable tempura) was excellent, she politely corrected me that these were "Haru no Sansai" (mountain vegetables of springtime). You could tell she's really proud of it.



Then there's more mountain vegetables -- this dish being in a Miso vinaigrette dressing.



And even more as Goma-ae.



And even more in a simmered dish. Wild-grown bamboo shoots and Zenmai ferns, accompanied by the locally-made hard tofu.



Gokayama's local tofu is famous for its hardness, which supposedly allowed the villagers to wrap a cake of tofu in straw ropes and carry it around. The taste? On the rich side I guess, but nothing spectacular.



Something other than Miso soup for a change -- wild Nameko mushrooms and Shirataki noodles.



Being a city dweller my entire life, it must had been at least 20 years since I last spent a night in a farming village. Evening was eeriely peaceful, and all one could see was the yellow silhouettes of the lattice windows, framed by the triangular rooflines of the Gassho-zukuri. The only bright light in the entire village came from the vending machine.



The entire village woke up at 06:30 to the minute-long pre-recorded "Ohayou Gozaimasu!" greetings heard from its outdoor loudspeaker system ... which probably could be heard for miles along this mountain valley. If you keep snoozing, no worries, since it will return and try to wake everyone again every 10 minutes or so. We found this more funny than annoying, and it's just part of the experience of staying in a real farming community.

Breakfast was served at the hearth again. It was one of the simplest Ryokan/Minshuku breakfasts we've ever had -- no meat, not even grilled fish, and of course no fancy Onsen Tamago. But the one real surprise was the little dish of (guess what...) wild plants at the left of the picture -- a dish of tenderly boiled fiddlehead ferns (Kogomi) collected from the nearby forests.



We checked out of Goyomon in the rain, but not before borrowing one of its traditional paper umbrellas for a romantic stroll to the village shrine and back. This concluded one of our most memorable Bed-and-Breakfast stays in Japan ... or anywhere in the world even. We've stayed in World Heritage status buildings before, the last time being in the Czech Republic. But the aroma and warmth of the trouts roasting in the square hearth, the delicate flavors of the wild plants, the beautiful architecture, and of course the legendary Japanese hospitality ... this was just something else.

Now that I've finished showing you the excellent Minshuku Goyomon, I have to reveal that it wasn't the Minshuku we originally booked!



We originally made a booking for Minshuku Yuusuke, supposedly the largest and best preserved Gassho-zukuri house in the village, and which once hosted the current Crown Prince of Japan. But upon arrival we found this black-and-white paper signage saying "In Bereavement" posted on the door frame. The owner, still red-eyed, explained that his elderly mother just passed away a few days prior to our arrival and that it was a taboo to receive guests for 49 days. Being a responsible host, he had pre-arranged for Goyomon to receive us in his stead.


Ainokura Folklore Museum


The only disadvantage of staying in the tiny Ainokura village is ... well ... it's a tiny village! The only advertised attraction here is a little museum converted from two of their better preserved Gassho-zukuri farmhouses. As tourists generally can't go upstairs at their own Minshuku (where the host families live), this exhibition offers the rare opportunity to see how these houses were put together in ropes and beams.



The museum was staffed with a couple of elderly volunteer ladies. To make up for not speaking any English, one of them would burst into singing their ancient folk songs while I played the village's own indigenous percussion instrument known as the Kokiriko. Playing it involved holding the handles at the two ends while whipping one end with a quick snap of the wrist, as I learned from the old lady.



Other exhibits focused on the goods the village supplied to the outside world, before the arrival of the modern society. The warm, humid upper floors of the Gassho-zukuri houses raised silkworms for silk production back in the feudal ages, while the tradition of handmaking the renowned Gokayama Washi paper persists to the present. The most fascinating were the displays associated with the old gunpowder industry of supplying the local warlord clan with Potassium Nitrate ... produced from the villagers' urine. If you get grossed out easily, remember not to touch the exhibits ...



Of course the real star of the museum was the museum itself, graciously exposing its intricate network of beams supporting the steep triangular roof. The straw ropes are said to last for centuries upon acquiring water- and insect-repellent qualities from the rising smoke and soot from the hearth below.



Accessing the top floors the traditional way -- not for those with a fear of heights.


Restaurants and Shops


There is ONE general store in the village, which functions as the noodle stand, the souvenir shop, the grocery store, the tobacconist, and even as the local post office. If you absolutely need your daily fix of Premium Calpis, stock up from the outside world before heading into Gokayama.


Transportation

Gokayama is saddled deep inside Central Japan's mountain ranges, and the closest major population centres are the cities of Takayama, Takaoka, and Kanazawa, each of them being at least a couple hours away by bus. This makes it unrealistic as a day-trip destination, no matter where you're coming from. And besides, there really isn't any point in depriving yourself of the experience of sleeping inside a Gassho-zukuri farmhouse, especially after managing to come all the way from Tokyo or Osaka.


There's only ONE bus route, connecting from the JR train station at Takaoka, through Gokayama, and onto the local transportation hub of Shirakawago. As of the time of writing (Nov 2008), there are 4 buses per day in each direction. If you can read Japanese, the Kaetsunou bus company's official website is here. If you can't, you'll just have to trust my translation of the schedule. To get off at the Ainokura village in Gokayama, the bus-stop you want is called "Ainokura-guchi".

SPRING/SUMMER SEASON SCHEDULE (check official site for low season)

JR Takaoka Station -> Ainokura-guchi -> Shirakawago
07:30 -> 09:23 -> 10:08
09:30 -> 11:18 -> 12:03
12:00 -> 13:48 -> 14:33
16:10 -> 17:58 -> 18:43

Shirakawago -> Ainokura-guchi -> JR Takaoka Station
07:05 -> 07:52 -> 09:46
10:35 -> 11:22 -> 13:16
13:10 -> 13:57 -> 15:51
15:15 -> 16:02 -> 18:00

The bus fare costs a substantial 1450 yen (CAD$14.5) from Takaoka, and 1200 yen (CAD$12) from Shirakawago. Remember you need to get off at the "Ainokura-guchi" bus stop ... tell the driver and sit close to the front.


This little hut is where you get off, if you're coming from Shirakawago. The village of Ainokura is 5 minute's walk uphill to the left.

Next you'll probably ask: How do I get to Shirakawago/Takaoka from Tokyo or Osaka or Nagoya?

From Tokyo or Osaka, you can first take the Shinkansen (bullet train) to Nagoya, en route to Shirakawago by bus. There is one direct bus from Nagoya to Shirakawago, leaving Nagoya's highway bus terminal (called Meitetsu Bus Centre and located right above the Meitetsu train station) at 09:00 and arriving at Shirakawago at 11:48. If this doesn't work for your schedule, take the JR train from Nagoya to Takayama, which departs hourly and takes about 2 hours. Five times a day, there's a bus outside of Takayama's JR train station that will take you to Shirakawago in 50 minutes.


As you can see, a trip from Tokyo would go through at least two transfers: Tokyo -> Nagoya -> Shirakawago -> Gokayama, with a total travel time of about 6 hours, one way. Now you understand why it has managed to keep its peaceful charm.


Gokayama vs Shirakawago

Most people visiting this region actually come to see the large traditional village of Shirakawago, home to more than 100 Gassho-zukuri farmhouses (Gokayama has 30 or so) and a world-famous destination for domestic and foreign tourists. Shirakawago has better bus connections, is more much commercialized and is always bustling with souvenir stores and coachloads of foreign tourists.

Which one's better? If you want the best photo spots, polished tourist attractions and a wide choice of souvenirs, you can't beat Shirakawago. But if you want an authenic and peaceful Shangri-La, which is what Shirakawago used to be before the arrival of mass tourism, Gokayama is all that's left today. Go now, before it's too late.