After visiting 15 towns on a 16-day journey to West Japan, little Kurashiki emerged as my favorite memory. Not the popular Hiroshima or Okayama, but Kurashiki. And our wooden Japanese house on a hill had everything to do with it.
Imagine waking up under the warmth of a feather futon on the Tatami floor, overlooking the 2-storey skyline of a feudal-era town while prepping a Japanese breakfast, taking sunset strolls down historic alleys flanked by dim lanterns and dark wooden lattices, and popping into the neighbourhood Yakitori-ya for chicken skewers in front of a smoky charcoal grille. For 3 nights, I was simply in paradise.
Renting a Machiya or not, beautiful Kurashiki was definitely worth at least a couple nights. While most visitors opt to stay at the closest major city of Okayama, I would argue that Kurashiki makes a better base due to its central location for day-trips to Onomichi or Bitchu-Takahashi. Besides, Kurashiki is just infinitely more enchanting than Okayama's concrete city blocks.
This was our second experience with renting an entire Machiya, a traditional, one-to-two-storey wooden Japanese house centred around one or more Tatami rooms. Our previous experience was with the Eco House in Kyoto, and on this trip we would rent two different Machiya -- Onsaka-no-Ie in Kurashiki, and Housen Nagaya in Yunotsu.
Onsaka-no-Ie was built by a group of volunteers back in 2007 as a proof of concept that traditional Machiya houses could be adapted for modern Japanese living, in an effort to spearhead the preservation and continuation of this folk Japanese architecture. A decade later, Kurashiki's historic quarter has grown more vibrant than ever with book cafes, one-of-a-kind boutiques and fusion eateries moving into Machiya spaces alongside century-old Sake breweries and Tatami makers.
We booked Onsaka-no-Ie through a few Japanese emails to the Machiya Trust to confirm the dates and prices for the rental period, then arriving at Antique Cafe Felicite (Kurashiki-Shi Honmachi 10-6; closes at 17:00!) to pay and pick up the key. While I understand that many readers may not understand Japanese, I'm sure that any effort to bridge the language barrier would be appreciated.
Handsomely perched on a small hill above Kurashiki's historic streets, Onsaka-no-Ie strikes the perfect balance of being immersed into the old town while maintaining an enviable isolation from the foot and bicycle traffic below. Every morning we awoke to the call of wild birds, yet the town was a mere 30 seconds away down the stone path.
Despite being a 21st Century construction, Onsaka-no-Ie is a classic Machiya of heavy wooden frame and earthen walls that volunteers and local students helped assemble with contributions from various sponsors in town. The small house of 36 m2 had everything we needed -- a 6-jo Tatami room at the centre, kitchen, bathtub, even a state-of-the-art toilet with bidet functions.
We managed to take this photo of the 6-jo Tatami prior to unpacking the feather futon, which proved very warm during our November visit when combined with the highly efficient heater/air-conditioner. Even Yukata robes and slippers were provided, for a maximum of 3 guests.
As usual we used our kitchen mainly for prepping breakfast or tea, made easy by the availability of an induction stove top, a microwave, a small fridge, even down to pots and cooking utensils. Breakfast was always a highlight of the day with the fantastic view of Kurashiki's clay rooftiles outside our window.
Adjacent to the kitchen was a small but functional bathroom with a bathtub and washbasin. Despite being rented as a self-service guesthouse, amenities such as towels and even an ionic hair dryer were thoughtfully provided.
While the Machiya is situated high enough to offer a panorama of the old town from the balcony, it's also conveniently located within a 15-minute walk to the train station and a 6-minute stroll to a Nishina Food Basket, a major supermarket which opens until 23:00. And should we have an ice cream craving in the middle of the night, the nearest Lawson was just 3 minutes away.
From Nishina we usually picked up the Japanese favorites of Melon Pan or Nama Cream Pan, some Niku Dango or Onigiri, and perhaps some fruits and puddings for a mishmash breakfast. The only item obviously missing was a TV for catching the local weather forecast, but the WiFi provided a similar function. Plus, it's just more incentive to head out and enjoy the town.
Nationally famous for its photogenic willow-swept canal, Kurashiki's historic quarter is on par with Shirakawago and Kanazawa's Higashi Chayagai as an Important Preservation District for heritage architecture. While the boatloads of tourists are now turned back at the southern edge of the old town, this 400-year-old waterway has remained mostly navigable for the next 20km until emptying into the Seto Inland Sea.
While Kurashiki does feature several small museums, we chose to focus on taking in the feudal townscape and its fascinating assortment of one-of-a-kind shops (the eccentric masking tapes of Nyochikudo comes to mind). Our only regret was not being able to visit the Ohashi House, which was closed for a tea ceremony convention on the day of our planned visit.
For the next two days we would visit Okayama and Onomichi on day-trips and return to Kurashiki for evening strolls along the canal and its whitewashed storehouses. We had three excellent dinners in Kurashiki (to be reviewed in the next article), but we also remembered fondly the plethora of traditional Wagashi (Japanese sweets) and street snacks.
First on anyone's list would be the locally famed Kikkoudou, Kurashiki's premier confectionery since Emperor Meiji's reign 140-years-old. The opulence of a freshly handmade Mura Suzume, a soft crepe with a filling of chunky red bean paste, costs just 140 yen (CAD$1.6) for takeout.
Precisely folded to resemble a sparrow in flight, Mura Suzume's flour-and-egg sponge crepe was originally considered a Western-Japanese fusion in the early years of the Meiji Restoration. Besides picking up Kikkoudou's signature sweets, we also bought some terrific Squid Senbei crackers for about 300 yen.
Even more legendary is Kurashiki's 800-year-old traditional dessert known as Fujito Manju, a two-bite-sized cake with a red bean filling enveloped inside a paper-thin dough of sweet Amazake wine. While I do appreciate its incredible history dating from Year 1184 just before the rise of the Shoguns in Japan, it was just a little sweet for my modern taste.
More suiting to our palate was the alluringly warm and crunchy Ebisu Manju, available at a tiny shop at the southern end of the shopping arcade en route to the train station. Apparently the little stall operates only from the start of autumn until late spring, serving a cheap (75 yen!) and satisfying snack to the locals in the cold.
And if your tastebuds prefer savory snacks, Setonai-an makes these Kaki Senbei fresh in front of your eyes, with an entire oyster pan-fried and pressed into your cracker, for 120 yen each. To be completely honest though, the flavors still couldn't beat the factory-produced Kaki Senbei we purchased at the oyster capital of Hiroshima the previous day.
The Squid Senbei from Kikkoudou turned out much more flavorful and even better when paired with a cold Sake, in our case a bottle of Seikyou picked up at Takehara. This became part of my evening routine at the Machiya -- Senbei, Sake, along with a nighttime panorama of the historic town below.
Of course Kurashiki boasts its own award-winning Sake-brewery, the century-old Morita Shuzou with seemingly a thousand variations of its signature Mannenyuki. Picking up a bottle no longer requires a visit to the Shuzou -- the local Lawson or Family Mart would do.
Over the course of 3 days we visited 4 restaurants in town, all recommended by the locals. Two could be classified as Seafood Izakaya, one was a traditional Ryokan, and of course our favorite, the Yakitori-ya. These will be reviewed in the next article.
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