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Award-winning travel writer (Telegraph, Times, Guardian, Wanderlust) Paul Bloomfield recently explored western Honshu with us, where history and ghost stories feel ever present. From the sinister medieval bastion of Matsue to Tsuwano’s Edo-era scenes and Hagi’s samurai past, he follows Yamaguchi’s quieter routes, ending in Nagato Yumoto Onsen, a hot spring town where life is returning. You can read more about his trip in The Telegraph.
I didn’t see any ghosts in Japan – not exactly. And yet… perhaps it was the fantasies I’d nurtured of being spirited away into a Ghibli-esque world, but on more than one occasion I had a deliciously hairs-standing-on-neck feeling that some kind of spirit, wraith, echo was lurking at my shoulder.
Explore our West Honshu Wonders trip idea
Japan has a long tradition of ghost stories, of course. Yōkai – a diverse cadre of supernatural entities – haunt countless tales and films. I was reminded of that heritage in Matsue, a lakeside city guarded by a suitably sinister medieval bastion, recalling a description that’s still apt well over a century after it was penned: “Solid as when first built four hundred years ago, a vast and sinister shape, all iron-gray, rising against the sky from a cyclopean foundation of stone. Fantastically grim the thing is, and grotesquely complex in detail…” Those are the words of Lafcadio Hearn, a Greek-Irish writer who lived for a time in Matsue and found renown translating and publishing traditional ghost stories recounted by his Japanese wife. A visit to his former home and neighbouring museum reveal the respect in which he’s still held by many Japanese today – in fact, he’s the subject of the latest hugely popular asadora morning TV serial.
Today, aside from the castle and the compact samurai quarter in its shadow, Matsue is largely a bustling modern city where such superstitions seem a little out of place. But in quieter spots farther west in Honshu, it can feel as if only a diaphanous veil separates this world from the living past.
Take Tsuwano. Judged just on its many historic sites, this peaceful castle town set amid forested mountains is a treat to visit. Its Taikodani Inari-jinja Shrine is accessed via a tunnel of dozens of vermilion torii (gates) weaving up the hillside, much like Kyoto’s Fushimi Inari Shrine but without the Instagram-following crowds. The old centre itself boasts temples, centuries-old sake breweries and a well-preserved samurai district through which flow little canals stocked with carp, introduced to provide food in case of siege.
But what really sets Tsuwano apart is the Hyakkeizu – a collection of 100 pictures of the town and surroundings, capturing intimate insights into places, activities, events and daily life of the feudal Edo era. Thanks to the superb heritage centre displaying these images, and accompanying route guides, it’s possible to step back in time and explore in the spectral company of Kakusai – the name adopted by samurai retainer Kurimoto Satoharu, who sketched the Hyakkeizu. Better still, join an e-bike tour led by a passionate local to roam the streets and shrines, temples, fields and waterfalls, seeing how much – or, in many case, how little – has changed over the past 160 years.
Some sites are quite different. The castle, first built on Mount Shiroyama in 1295 to defend against invasion by Kublai Khan’s Mongol army, was dismantled in 1874 after the fall of the shogunate during the Meiji Restoration. But many other places are much the same as in Kakusai’s day. Youmei-ji Temple still stands, housing fascinating relics and an atmospherically mossy, lichen-splashed cemetery. Local people still forage for Matsutake mushrooms in the woods, don costumes for the annual Sagi-mai heron dance at the Gion Festival, and compete in Yabusame (horseback archery) at Washibara Hachimangu Shrine. Most deliciously, the local treat Genji-maki – freshly cooked pancakes rolled around sweet red-bean paste – is still prepared daily at Ganso Genji Maki Sohompo Soke, the ideal post-cycle pick-me-up.
More evocative glimpses of the past await less than two hours to the west, in the coastal city of Hagi. Like Tsuwano, it’s a former domain capital where the daimyo (regional lord) built a mighty hilltop fortress, now largely in ruins. But Hagi’s extensive castle town and Edo-era merchant district offer different kinds of insights into both life in the samurai period and the seeds of the revolution that toppled the shogun and brought what was effectively a medieval country into the modern industrial age in 1868.
Though the once-imposing keep has gone, the burly stone outer walls and moats of the castle are still largely intact, enclosing a lovely park where plum trees and camellias bloom. And a stiff 20-minute haul up Mt Shizuki through lush forest brought me to the site of the former lookout post. Though only skeletal castle remains survive, the 360-degree views are as spectacular as ever, across the glorious golden beach and old town occupying the delta island between two rivers to the foothills beyond, and along the gloriously craggy coastline to the southwest.
In the town itself, ebullient local guide Aki led us around the grid-like street plan that can still be navigated using Edo-era maps, so little has it changed in form over several centuries. “Hagi is renowned for four Ss,” Aki smiled: “Samurai, seaside, summer oranges and ‘still secret’ – it’s little known by international visitors.” Certainly, trees laden with hefty citrus fruits are everywhere, mostly planted after the end of the shogunate when orange trees were seen as providing alternative income.
Several residences are now museums imbued with the spirits of samurais and wealthy merchants from two centuries ago. Typically fronted with yakisugi, charred-looking wood providing protection from salty sea air, houses such as the former Kikuyu and Kubota residences were built be merchants who grew wealthy from trading sake, kimonos or the four ‘white items’ for which Hagi became known: rice, paper, salt and candle wax from the sumac tree.
Another treasure for which Hagi was – and still is – famed is the distinctive high-grade pottery known as Hagi-yaki, introduced by artisans brought from Korea in the early 17th century. Even today, it’s prized for chawan, matcha tea bowls. And visitors are welcome to learn the technique – as I tried, working clay under the gentle guidance of craftsman Taikei Higuchi. My efforts were, it’s fair to say, rudimentary, serving only to underscore the expertise and artistry of the potters who still produce exquisite pieces epitomising concepts of nanabake – the ‘seven transformations’ that these ceramics undergo over time.
Read more: On the trail of the samurai
An hour farther west is a place that looked not so long ago as if it might become a ghost town – but today is looking to a bright future. Nagato Yumoto Onsen is a hot-spring resort strung along the Fukawa River, sandwiched between verdant ridges. Like so many similar spots in Japan, there’s a wonderful legend linked to the onsen. Six centuries ago, it’s said, the sea deity Sumiyoshi Daimyojin directed a priest from nearby Taineji Temple to the source of healing waters. Certainly, for many years people bathed in these naturally hot and mineral-rich pools – and over time, hotels sprang up to cater for visitors eager to enjoy treatments. But in recent times, the town fell out of favour, and the public onsen and lovely riverside walk became neglected.
“When I was a boy, my friends and I would swim in the river in summer, then go to the onsen,” recalls Kazuhiro Otani, owner of Bettei Otozure Ryokan. “But by 20 years ago, that never happened – and I wanted to change that.” A few years ago, he became the driving force behind the revitalisation of the town, starting with the public onsen, Onto, now completely reimagined and a popular hub for both residents and visitors. New hotels have opened; the funky Soil, where I stayed, also offers a lengthy menu of activities enabling guests to discover local artisans and authentic experiences, from exploring a historic soy-sauce brewery to meeting award-winning potters and e-bike trips through neighbouring Nagato town to the dramatically craggy island of Omijima, where black kites amass above and waves crash onto rock stacks and arches.
In Nagato Yumoto itself, once-empty shops, cafes and restaurants are reopening. At Kawarasoba Yanagiya, we feasted on the buckwheat noodles typical of Yamaguchi province, served with beef and eggs on a hot black rooftree and dipped in rich sauce; the bar above serves superior cocktails in a chic space overlooking the river. At Sakura Shodokou, we indulged in tender chicken yakitori skewers and flapping-fresh sashimi. At Oto Cafe & Pottery we savoured coffee served in beautiful Hagi-yaki cups, before popping across the road to the 365+1 craft brewery to pick up some citrusy pale ale. And, of course, we simmered in the waters of Onto, before strolling to Taineji Temple, past phalanxes of red-capped, lichen-mottled jizo sculptures to roam the hauntingly beautiful cemetery where generations rested. There I mused how, in Nagato Yumoto, vibrant life is returning, rubbing shoulders with the ghosts of the past to create something new, yet rooted in ancient traditions.
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Paul Bloomfield is an award-winning travel, history and wildlife writer who contributes to the Telegraph, Times, Guardian, Wanderlust, BBC Wildlife, HistoryExtra and many other broadsheets and magazines. He’s also the host of the History’s Greatest Cities podcast, featuring episodes on Tokyo and Kyoto.