Looking out from the top floor of the Kobuntei teahouse
I did it! Did what, you are probably and understandingly asking yourself? I'll delve into this further on in this post, but for now it suffices to say I successfully attained a travel-related goal. Before doing so, however, there was still a little bit of Fukushima Prefecture 福島県 to explore on the final Tuesday in September. I checked out of
my hotel, and walked the short distance to Aizu-Wakamatsu Station 会津若松駅, where I stowed my bag and backpack in a coin locker. As I reached the station I snapped this photo of one of the city's Town Buses, a network of which I had made good use of
the previous day:
Inside the station there was a cabinet displaying the local mascots of Aizu-Wakamatsu 会津若松市 (top left) and some of the surrounding towns and villages:
I took a JR Ban'etsu West Line 磐越西線 train which left Aizu-Wakamatsu at 09:48:
I tried to get another photo of the 57 meter/187 foot-high
Kannon statue 会津慈母大観世音菩薩像 which I had captured (sort of) two days prior on the train from Inawashiro 猪苗代駅 going to Aizu-Wakamatsu:
22 mintues later and I was in the city of Kitakata 喜多方市 (population 46,000 and declining). Kitakata is known in Japan for three things. The first is a collection scattered around town of
kura 倉, traditional storehouses. Often made of clay, they were used to store valuables in a fire-restaurant structure, an important consideration in a culture where almost everyone lived in flammable wooden houses. Many of the kura that have survived into the present day have been converted into homes, restaurants and shops. I once stayed a month in a converted kura in the city of Matsumoto 松本市, sleeping in the loft. And except for the low ceiling it was actually quite comfortable.
I picked up a guide map at the tourist information office in the station, and was directed by the staff to head toward one particular road lined with the storehouses. Which I did, and proceeded to take a lot of photos, some of which I'm sharing here:
The second thing Kitakata is known for is high-quality sake 日本酒. Taking a short detour I passed by one part of the
Yamatogawa Sake Brewery and Museum 大和川ミュージアム. I do enjoy a fine sake every now and then, but it was still too early in the morning for any taste testing, and my time in Kitakata was limited, so I gave it a pass:
I did, however, make time to visit the nearby Anshō-ji Temple 安勝寺:
Back on the main street and checking out more kura:
Some of them had signs in front with the name of the building and a short history of it, but the latter was in Japanese only and I didn't want to take the time to decipher it. This one is called
Kissa Kura 喫茶倉; as
kissa means "café" it wasn't too difficult to figure out what kind of business this establishment is currently engaged in:
Yoshi-no-gawa Shuzō 吉の川酒造 is a sake brewery. Other than the sign saying so, sake breweries can be recognized by the presence of
sugidama 杉玉. These cedar balls were traditionally used to indicate new sake production:
Yamakichigorō 山吉五郎, a storehouse dating from the early
Taishō era 大正時代:
Igarashike 五十嵐家, a mid-
Meiji era 明治時代 storehouse for miso 味噌 and soy sauce 醤油:
The final thing for which Kitakata is noted is also the biggest reason tourists go there (although on this morning there were very few people on the streets) - rāmen ラーメン. Kitakata Ramen 喜多方ラーメン is known throughout Japan; there was one such restaurant near our apartment in Yokkaichi 四日市 that my wife and I occasionally patronized. There are around 120 noodle shops in the town, some of which were highlighted on my guide map. However, I chose one not listed, mainly because it was open from 11:00. At Hisaji-ya ひさじ屋 I ordered a bowl of chāshū rāmen チャーシューメン, with a side order of gyōza 餃子. Is the rāmen in Kitakata distinctive enough to merit a special trip? I'm not a pretentious foodie influencer; to be frank, it all generally tastes the same to me. But the noodles at Hisaji-ya were good, and I went away a satisfied customer:
Kaneda Yōhinten 金田洋品店 was a clothing store dating from the end of the Meiji period:
Not all of the kura were attractive. This one had clearly seen better days:
Kiyokawa Shuzō 清川酒造 is a liquor store that dates back to the late
Edo period 江戸時代:
This modern structure (not a kura) stood out in its pinkishness. It's a piano school:
Passing by the main entrance to the aforementioned Yamatogawa Sake Brewing Museum while on my way back to the train station. If I only had the time...:
A shop that once sold alcohol and cigarettes:
From Kitakata Station 喜多方駅 I returned to Aizu-Wakamatsu, retrieved my bags from the coin locker, and proceeded on a long train ride to my final destination. At 13:30 I boarded the
Aizu No. 4 to its terminus at Kōriyama Station 郡山駅, arriving at 14:36. I had just enough time to pop into a convenience store in the station and emerged with a bottle of
Michinoku Fukushima Beer みちのく福島ビール Pilsner. Due to time constraints I began drinking it on the platform, probably to some disapproving looks from other passengers waiting for the bullet train. And the reason I needed to finish quickly was because the next leg of my journey was an unnecessary splurge, a 28-minute ride in a reserved seat on a Tōhoku Shinkansen 東北新幹線
Yamabiko やまびこ service. The ticket seller at Aizu-Wakamatsu Station tried to convince me to buy an unreserved seat ticket, but I'm glad I opted to waste some yen because the train (which was on its way to Tōkyō 東京) was packed:
Beer consumed, I stepped off the train at Utsunomiya Station 宇都宮駅 at 15:34, and then at 15:55 boarded a JR Tōhoku Main Line 東北本線 local train, taking it as far as Oyama Station 小山駅, pulling in at 16:21. It was a 9-minute wait there for a JR Mito Line 水戸線 local train, which ended at its terminus (Tomobe 友部駅) at 17:37. The final leg commenced just four mintues later, with a 14-minute ride on a JR Jōban Line 常磐線 local (by this point the train was full of students and workers heading home at the end of the day), which deposited me at Mito Station 水戸駅 at 17:55. For those of you playing at home, that was a 4-hour, 25-minute ride in total. Riding the shinkansen for that short leg saved me a grand total of ten minutes!
Feeling a bit tired, I had dinner at a
tonkatsu 豚カツ restaurant in the station building, then found my way to the
Daiwa Roynet Hotel Mito ダイワロイネットホテル水戸, where I checked in.
The south side of Mito Station:
And now the story behind the title of this blog post. A few years ago (but not that far in the past), while looking at the Prefectures of Japan Wikipedia page, I casually tallied how many of the country's 47 prefectures I had actually visited (and by "visited" meaning at least an overnight stay and/or several hours sightseeing there). To my surprise the number came to 43. I then realized there existed an attainable travel goal - to visit all of the 都道府県. Following last year's driving trip around Shikoku 四国 the number stood at 46. That last prefecture was Ibaraki-ken 茨城県, located in the Kantō region 関東地方 of the main island of Honshū 本州. Mito is the prefectural capital.
So why did it take so long (37 years) to step foot there? The main reason is that there really isn't much of note to see in the prefecture, at least when compared to other areas in Japan (though Instagram in recent years has made some spots almost fashionable to visit). Ibaraki is also frequently dubbed the "least desirable prefecture to live and work" in Japanese opinion polls. But on this last day of September I had finally arrived. The view that morning from my hotel room:
Mito is home to
Kairaku-en 偕楽園, Ibaraki's most famous attraction. It was a roughly 35-minute walk along Senba Lake 千波湖 to reach the garden's East Gate entrance. The lake itself was attractive, but the overcast sky made it difficult to get good photos:
Kairaku-en is one of Japan's
Three Great Gardens 日本三名園, famous for its plum blossoms 梅の花. However, it's the least impressive of the trio when compared to Kenroku-en 兼六園 (Kanazawa Prefecture 金沢県) and Kōraku-en 後楽園 (Okayama Prefecture 岡山県), both of which I'd previously visited (of course). No doubt in late February and March the garden is beautiful when the plum blossoms are in full bloom (followed soon after by the cherry blossoms 桜, of which Kairaku-en also has an abundance of):
There were signs describing the different types of blossoms, taunting me with photos of what the flowers look like when in full bloom:
Fortunately, there were other sections of the garden to visit, like the bamboo groves:
The Omotemon (Front Gate) 表門, ironically not the main entrance to the garden:
The cedar forest was a very unusual feature for a traditional Japanese garden:
The Tarō cedar tree 太郎杉, said to be 800 years old:
100 tons of water pour from the Togyokusen 吐玉泉 natural spring every day. The water is said to be efficacious for people suffering from vision problems, but was also used for tea ceremonies at the
Kōbuntei 好文帝 teahouse:
The teahouse was originally constructed in 1842, though what stands today is a reconstruction after the original structure was destroyed in a World War Two air raid:
The three-story Kōbuntei pavilion is still used for poetry contests and the
tea ceremony 茶道. For most visitors, however, it's a series of rooms with floral themes that commands their (and my) attention. Such as the Kiko-no-ma 菊の間, the Room of Chrysanthemums:
Momo-no-ma 桃の間, the Room of Peach:
Tsutsuji-no-ma つつじの間, the Room of Azalea:
Momiji-no-ma 紅葉の間, the Room of Maple Tree:
Take-no-ma 竹の間, the Room of Bamboo:
Ume-no-ma 梅の間, the Room of Plum:
The Ume-no-ma Irigawa 梅の間入側, a room that connects the Plum Room with the Kiyo-no-ma 清の間, the Pure Room:
For once I was actually (just) in time for something:
Hagi-no-ma 萩の間, the Room of Bush Clover:
Sakura-no-ma 桜の間, the Room of Cherry:
I took a break on the top floor, enjoying some plum cake with a cup of genuine Japanese matcha 抹茶 - suck on that,
all you hipsters!
The Kōbuntei as seen from the outside:
At this time of the year one can only use one's imagination:
My advice for those wishing to visit Kairaku-en would be to do so during the blooming (plum and cherry) seasons. Doing so, however, would likely mean sharing the garden with throngs of visitors. There's a train station close to the East Gate that's only open during the plum blooming season, which is a good indication of how just busy it must get during that time.
Instead of walking back to the hotel I decided to take a bus to the train station. With time before the scheduled arrival of the next bus I visited the nearby Tokiwa-jinja Shintō shrine 常磐神社:
The shrine was founded in 1874, meaning it was an early example of
State Shintō 国家神道. While I've long been interested in Japan's indigenous religion (and in particular with
Shinbutsu-shūgō 神仏習合, the partial syncretism of Shintō with the imported Buddhist faith), and will always find time to visit a
jinja 神社, I've always felt some reserve toward those shrines established at the start of the Meiji period and leading up to the end of the Second World War. The authorities of
Imperial Japan 大日本帝国 established these shrines (at the same time forcibly separating the long-standing ones from Buddhist temples, a sometimes destructive process known as
Shinbutsu bunri 神仏分離) to promote the belief that the Emperor was a divine being directly descended from the sun goddess
Amaterasu 天照大神. The Shintō shrines established in Taiwan (some of which still exist in some form today) fall into this category:
For lunch I stopped at
MOS Burger モスバーガー, an old favorite of mine that I usually visit at least once for a meal whenever I'm in the country. The モスチーズバーガー tastes a lot better than it appears in this photo:
With some time remaining before my train to Tōkyō, I visited the
Mito Tōshō-gū shrine 水戸東照宮. Originally built in 1600, it had to be rebuilt after the war:
The ornate gate brought to mind the
colorful architecture of the Azuchi-Momoyama period. We tend to think of traditional Japanese buildings as being almost austere examples of Zen restraint in decor and design, but the
Azuchi-Momoyama period 安土桃山時代 was an exception. Over time the colors on many buildings remaining from that era have faded away, which is probably why Tōshō-gū Shrines (especially the
Nikkō Tōshō-gū) appear so unique:
The Suifu Lantern 水府提灯 standing outside the north exit of Mito Station, which appears to have been inspired by a
traditional lantern (if I'm interpreting things correctly):
The statues of Mito Kōmon and his two samurai retainers, Suke-san and Kaku-san 水戸黄門・助さん・格さんの像. Mito Kōmon was a
real-life figure, who was later portrayed in a not very historically accurate but long-running
televison series in Japan. Each episode would end with Mito Kōmon's identity being revealed with the dramatic presentation of his
inrō seal container 印籠:
Back in the station building I ventured into a bookstore where I purchased a techō 手帳 pocket notebook for next year. I also had a glance at the number of travel books and magazines on Taiwan, showing how popular the country remains as a destination for Japanese tourists:
I was surprised to find this guidebook on
Heisei era 平成 Japan, a period of time that only came to an end in 2019. Recent years have seen a boom in nostalgia for this period and the late
Shōwa era 昭和時代 (especially the
bubble economy バブル景気 years), which I understand as I have similar memories having first visited Japan a mere three weeks after the death of Emperor
Hirohito 昭和天皇:
I earlier mentioned by fondness for MOS Burger.
Mister Donut ミスタードーナツ falls even more so into that same category, as I had time to finish off a custard cream and a honey dip (i.e. a glazed donut) before catching my train:
And this was that train, the 15:27
Hitachi No. 18 limited express ひたち going to Shinagawa Station 品川駅 in Tōkyō:
For once I didn't have a beer for the ride, mainly because the convenience store I went into only had offerings from the large brewers and not any local 地ビール. Instead I settled on a different type of local beverage:
I got off the train at Ueno Station 上野駅 at 16:36 after a ride of only 69 minutes. Ibaraki is close enough to the capital that I only had to pay for the reserved seat surcharge and could use my
Suica card for the regular fare. From the station it was a short walk (in the rain, unfortunately) to my final accommodations of this journey in Japan, the stylish
NOHGA HOTEL UENO TOKYO ノーガホテル上野東京:
I had dinner that evening in the hotel's restaurant. The establishment and clientele were a bit on the posh side, whereas I was dressed in a T-shirt, gym shorts and hoodie. Considering the atmosphere, I expected the dishes to be small in size, so I ordered several, only to futilely struggle to finish them all, a mistake I won't make again. Live and learn:
So there you have it - all 47 of Japan's prefectures have been officially visited. Which begs the question now what? Do I stop visiting the country? Hardly. There are still many places that I've yet to visit but would like to do so. And there are also some prefectures (Shiga 滋賀県 and Toyama 富山県, being two examples) that I wish to explore further in depth. So health, money and time permitting I still have places to go and people to see. And speaking of the latter, I did quite a bit of that over the next few days in Tōkyō. So the quest may have been completed in Mito, but this trip was far from over.
Stay tuned...
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