April 22, 2025. We woke early, packed for the next leg of the journey, and headed back to the cute cafe we had found the day before. One of my favorite moments during travels is finding a cozy corner to drink a latte or cappuccino and enjoy a pastry. I was starting to chafe at the limitation imposed by limited train schedules, especially in more remote parts of Japan, and fantasized about being able to drive anywhere I wanted. Shawn said it would be prohibitively expensive, but given the expensive train fares, I didn’t think so. I poked around online and found some fairly cheap prices. He also thought it would be impossible because of road signs, but all the signs I’d seen were also in Roman alphabet, even in remote villages. And Google Maps would help.

I decided to be bold and ask the server about the impact of the Fukushima nuclear disaster on the local community. I learned that an exclusion zone of 371 square kilometers was established due to contamination from radioactive fallout. Many of people in that area had moved to Aizuwakamtsu and surrounding areas. She told us about housing pressures and other issues related to a sudden increase in population. I was very sorry to hear about the impacts on such good, hardworking people.

We thanked her for her kindness and headed to the train station, for the 3 1/2 hour trip to Yamagata. As always, I enjoyed looking at the countryside. I was hoping to get a glimpse of the Zao snow monsters, fir trees covered with ice and snow and transformed into fantastical shapes on Mt. Zao. Created by harsh Siberian winds and heavy snowfall, they are a major winter attraction during the Zao Juhyo Festival. Sadly, I was to learn that they might be a thing of the past due to climate change.

It was a shock being in a city after Aizuwakamtsu. After only a few days in that sleepy town I’d become a country mouse. On our walk to Guesthouse Mintaro Hut, I focused on the stone statues I saw almost every block of the downtown. These lovely art pieces seemed to mostly feature owls and fruit (Yamagata is a big fruit growing region), especially cherries. After a 20 minute slog (carrying my heavy duffel bag/pack), we were greeted by Zoe, a gracious Taiwanese woman who was staying at here for 6 weeks. She had first visited as guest and fallen in love with the place, returning as a sort of volunteer to greet guests and help with cooking and cleaning. Sadly, the owner had recently fallen ill with pneumonia, and was on a prolonged hospital stay. She was very concerned that he might not make it, and though I’d never met him, I shared her fear.

I was excited about plans for a homemade meal and decided to head out for a quick walk to the Yamagata castle grounds. I loved winding my way through neighborhood streets in Japan. Their appreciation for nature and beauty translated to tiny yards brimming over with flowering plants. It took 10 minutes to arrive at a large moat filled with cherry blossoms. I headed up the ramparts and found a path beneath blossoming cherry trees. It was peaceful walking there at dusk. There were a few other pedestrians out for a stroll, some with dogs. After an hour exploring the grounds, I headed back. I could smell the delectable fusion of Taiwanese and Japanese cooking a block away. Zoe had prepared fried chicken, a special request by one of the staff. The group of us, about 10 people, sat together in extremely tight quarters, moving out of the way when necessary. When the cat showed up, everyone deferred to him, offering their place and rushing to feed him. You could tell these were cat lovers. He took a place of honor on a grand pillow next to the door. Shawn spoke a bit of Japanese to the staff, while Zoe and I chatted in English. It was a rare opportunity, as few Japanese people I’d met were willing to speak English. While most Japanese study English extensively in school, they are mute out of fear of making a mistake. After a few hours and with full bellies, we retired to our small bedroom. I had to open the window because it was so hot inside. Strange.

April 23. Unfortunately, the walls were so thin we barely slept. To keep our sanity, we decided to find a hotel for the next 2 nights, though we liked the people so much I suggested we return for dinner and make a generous contribution in thanks. We walked downstairs and asked about canceling the next 2 nights due to sleep issues. They were very nice about it and we ended up talking with Zoe until 11:30 when Shin, an elderly gentleman came in the door. He’d been up since 4am, his regular routine during a 4 month annual stay in Yamagata helping a farmer tend his cherry orchard. He eyes twinkled as he told us a bit about his long life. He had been a flight attendant with JAL, and had joked around with former President Bush Sr on a flight to the US. Apparently Bush had been gracious. Shin said he’d have more time to talk that evening, and recommended visiting Yamadera, a scenic temple in the mountains nearby with great views. We were eager to visit but decided to go the next day, as it was already noon.

I was curious to explore the former hospital, now a museum in a surprisingly contemporary hexagonal building I’d seen the night before on my walk around the castle grounds. Shawn accompanied me on our way to a cafe, but the place looked closed. Maddeningly, I found out later that it had been open. I regretted that I hadn’t checked more carefully. We walked out the Great Eastern Gate of the castle, and watched a throng of people on the bridge over the train tracks, seemingly mesmerized as an ordinary looking train sped by. I wondered what all the fuss was about. I liked this side of the tracks because there were several parks. Shawn wanted to walk on the main road, but I was curious and wanted to explore this area, which seemed older.

We found the cafe, which had good espresso but limited fare. Shawn ordered a waffle, a rarity for him since he tended to avoid gluten. We had our luggage and after cappuccino dropped off our things at the Yamagata Kokusai Hotel. The room was not yet ready. I had seen the Mogami Yoshiaki Historical Museum on our way to our lodging the first night, and decided to check it out. The museum was built in 1989 by city officials to preserve materials related to the Mogami clan who ruled the city from the Azuchi–Momoyama period until early Edo period.

At the museum, I learned about the life of Mogami Yoshiaki, the man responsible for the layout and building of the castle town which became modern-day Yamagata City. He had been a daimyō of the Yamagata Domain in Dewa Province and had controlled the “Three Difficult Places” on the Mogami River, making navigation safer from the Sea of Japan inland, and bringing the culture of Kyōto and Ōsaka to Yamagata. His irrigation control measures helped develop rice cultivation in the Shōnai plain. I enjoyed learning about his life and examining the extensive sword collection and other objects connected with the Mogami clan.

I love folk art and traditional culture, and curiosity led me to the Yamagata Prefectural Folk Museum Bunshokan. Stepping through the front gate, the three-story façade, slate courtyard, and surrounding greens made me feel as if I were in Europe on the grounds of Versailles, or Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The grand, European-looking brick and stone building had been constructed in 1913 in English Renaissance style to house the seat of the prefectural government. It was one of several buildings constructed in a similar style at the north end of Nanukamachi Road to serve prefectural functions. Its clock tower is the second oldest still in operation in Japan, and the pendulum weights are manipulated every 5 days by hand to ensure continued accuracy. I was stunned by the opulent furniture, intricate wall sconces and bannisters, stained glass, parquet floors, hand woven carpets, marble fireplaces, and silk wallpaper. It took me over an hour just to admire its many rooms, which circled an immense courtyard. Like most endeavors undertaken in Japan, this example of western style architecture was more becoming than most I’d seen in the west.

Past the marble columns of the entrance foyer, a vaulted staircase led to the second floor, where I viewed the Grand Meeting Hall, with its extravagant long white table, and the Office of the Governor full of the kind of pomp reserved for officials in the upper echelons. Elaborate plasterwork adorned the ceiling, with baroque flower designs painstakingly created by hand. Most of the rooms had their original fireplace, chandelier, and carpeting woven in Yamagata City. One room displayed local culture and crafts, including examples of Otako Poppo (toy hawks) and tsumugi silk weaving. Silk weaving was done using treadle looms and safflower dye (benibana-zome), a regional specialty. Another exhibit presented agricultural tools used in the region’s farming history. They even had a reconstruction of a wealthy farmer’s living quarters. There were a series of rooms that gave the history of Yamagata over time, beginning with the samurai era. It was a fascinating overview of local history.

After a few hours soaking up this fascinating information, I ventured out into the gardens, a combination of Japanese, English, and French styles. It was lovely to look at the house from various angles and explore the greenscape, imagining what it might be to call this mansion one’s own. After admiring the grounds, I headed back toward downtown and noticed a nice building with a sign reading Herb Country. I wondered if it was actually an herb store and entered timidly, not sure if I’d buy anything. I don’t like to waste shopkeepers time. It was the first time I’d seen such a selection of bulk herbs in Japan, and marveled at the presentation. The interior was decorated tastefully with handmade products, essential oils, and herbs. They had over 100 essential oils and 80 bulk herbs. I’d been nursing a sore throat for a few days and thought a mucilaginous herb like marshmallow root would do me good. I didn’t expect to find it but asked anyway, using Google Translate to communicate. They told me to wait and started foraging in the back. It turned out to be run by a family, and they were so kind and welcoming I wished I were local. I admired a small gourd engraved with a cat, and learned it had been made by their daughter, who blushed and thanked me for my praise. It was so cozy in their shop that I didn’t want to leave. Reluctantly, I thanked them and said goodbye.

I had planned to meet Shawn at Guesthouse Mintaro Hut for dinner at 7:30 and had a couple of hours to kill beforehand. I walked south past the castle, exploring the neighborhood. I loved exploring new places and liked the way the waning shadows fell on everything. I saw a few Boy’s Day carp flags and noticed the care with which people tended their small gardens. When it was dinner time, I walked back to the guest house and met Shawn. Zoe gave me an update about the owner’s health. He was still in the hospital and his condition was serious. I could see how worried everyone was, and hoped he would make a full recovery. I stayed in touch with Zoe over the next weeks, and finally got the good news that the owner had a clean bill of health and was home. The mood was subdued. We ate and engaged in quiet conversations, revisiting some of the tasty dishes from the day before. Shin was there and talked about his work in the fields and climate change. He said that the fir trees covered in snow and ice that I’d hoped to see, known as the Zao snow monsters, seemed to be a thing of the past. The trees were breaking under the snow, which was becoming wetter in the last few years. After a few hours, we walked back to our tiny hotel room. We had 12″ between the beds, and another 12″ from the bed to the window. I opened a strange window, long and rectangular which opened from the side. Nonetheless, I was grateful for fresh air.

April 24. Despite the cramped quarters, I slept well. It was much quieter than our previous lodging. I was glad to be well-rested because we were heading to Yamadera, which means mountain temple. Officially known as Risshakuji, it was founded in 860 as a temple complex of the Tendai sect. I’d heard a lot about it but didn’t know what to expect. We boarded the slow train for a 30 minute ride into the mountains. Very nice scenery, people out in the fields working the land. I was amazed that each time I looked out the train window, I would see people working. It was clear that hard work was a shared value here. I think it was a big reason Japan was able to modernize so quickly during the Meiji era, cleverly adopting the best practices from each country they came into contact with. I was reminded of the rapidity with which orchards and horticultural practices blossomed in Santa Clara valley where I grew up. The Japanese were an important part of that story.

I couldn’t see much from the train station, but saw that most people were walking in a particular direction, and followed suit. I walked through a very quaint town which catered to tourists with signs for Onigiri and other Japanese snacks. Then I saw the mountainside dotted with temple buildings. It was a lovely sight, and the setting reminded me of photos the mountains in Vietnam. As usual I approached the temple complex in my own circuitous fashion, taking photos and noting small details as I climbed. The stone steps were moss covered and there were many stones with old carvings dotting the hillside. Shawn and I walked separately, but we ran into each other at the top of the hill. I noticed a small shrine to pray for the protection of one’s pets, and bought a cute flying cat charm to remind me of Henri, aka Kitty cat of love, who I hope hadn’t run away. Our housemates agreed to feed him while we were gone. I hoped he wouldn’t defect like my childhood cat Merowsin. My neighbor fed her shrimp on the couch. When she moved to Stockton, my cat followed suit.

I spent an hour or so wandering around the temple complex, then headed downhill. There was only one train back to Yamagata in the late afternoon (4:30 or so), but I wanted to see the Yamadera Bashō-kinenkan Museum before heading back. Inside were displays of Basho’s handwritten manuscripts and drawings, as well as materials related to his work Oku no Hosomichi or The Narrow Road to the Deep North. In beautifully crafted haiku poems, Basho described the natural world with great simplicity and delicacy of feeling. When he composed the book, he had been an ardent student of Zen Buddhism, and had set off his travels to strip away the trappings of the material world. He wrote of the beauty of nature and of the seasons, and of such things as the smell of rain, the brightness of the moon, and the beauty of water, through which he seemed to sense the mysteries of the universe. His writing not only chronicled his perilous journeys through Japan, but also captured his vision of eternity in the transient world around him. I was to follow in his footsteps, at least to Matsushima, Sendai, and Hiraizumi, and on my previous trip had visited the grass-roofed hut of a poet and contemporary of Basho’s in Kyoto, where he had reportedly visited for extended periods of time.

April 25. I woke after another good night sleep, this time heading to Kaminoyama, the neighboring castle town. There I hoped to see the castle and four samurai homes in the preserved samurai district. I was also intrigued by Harusamean, the reconstructed hermitage of the Zen monk Takuan. I had been hoping to see the Kaisendo Museum, the Taisho era residence of local silk magnate and art lover Kenzo Hasegawa, but it was closed for maintenance. The museum is housed in Taisho-era buildings and earthen storehouses and features a large collection of Chinese carved lacquerware, primarily from the Ming and Qing dynasties, as well as Japanese swords and armor, and photographs. I later learned that I had missed the Saito Mokichi Memorial Museum. Mokichi was a Japanese poet of the Taishō period, a member of the Araragi school of tanka, and a psychiatrist.

About 100 yards west of Kaminoyama Castle, I came upon a beautifully preserved neighborhood of homes built 200 years ago, including four samurai homes belonging to the Morimoto family, the Miwa family, the Yamada family, and the former Sogabe family, respectively. Two of the homes are still inhabited, so you can only observe from the outside, while two permit exploration for a fee. They each have a hook-shaped curved thatched roof and were built under the architectural style bukeya-chumon-zukuri. I felt like I had traveled back in time to the Edo period. I ran into Shawn in one of the houses, and chatted a bit before heading off to the other side of town to visit the former living quarters, tea houses, and enclosed gardens where Takuan taught Zen Buddhism and practiced tea ceremony.

I walked past Kaminoyama Onsen Station and spied a man filming. This was no ordinary camera, but a professional camera used by movie makers. I inquired and he told me in a thick Australian accent that they were here to create a documentary of a local poet, and wanted to shoot the sun setting below the mountains for the biopic. Cool I thought. Further on I spied an old woman sitting in a vegetable patch. She looked mischievous, and I wondered whether I would look like her when I grew up. Walking a bit further, I came upon the confines of Harusame-an, where the monk Takuan, after whom takuan pickles are named, spent three years teaching Zen Buddhism and tea ceremony. The building has been restored to its original form, and the Harusame Well and the Choutei teahouse evoke the atmosphere of a former era. I was transported back as I walked around the grounds alone, imagining what it might have been like to live in these simple dwellings practicing Zazen and tea ceremony.

It was a beautiful day and I continued walking south along the hills, through an old cemetery and a rogue vegetable patch along the road where someone was growing eggplant. I found a very chic country inn and restaurant further on, and wondered what it would be like to stay there. Turning back, I headed back to the reconstructed keep of Kaminoyama aka Tsukioka Castle, where some young men were dressed as samurai for a photo session. I wound my way along the path, snapping a few photos of the picturesque  hirayama-style castle. I had walked a lot and made my way to the train station, looking forward to sitting down and looking out the window. Shawn was on time and we headed back to Yamagata City to scare up dinner and conk out for the night.