Autumn in Japan

Tokyo — Where the Journey Begins 

It all began as the plane dipped beneath the clouds and Tokyo’s skyline shimmered below — a sea of light and anticipation. After months of planning, we arrived: tired, happy, and wide-eyed. The Blossom Hibiya welcomed us above the city’s heartbeat, where neon reflections danced on glass and the scent of ramen floated through the night.

Morning came with jet lag and curiosity. Awake at 4 a.m., we laced up and ran through Kokyo Gaien National Garden, the city still half-dreaming. The moat shimmered in dawn light, the air carried a hush, and Tokyo felt timeless — ancient stones and modern steel sharing the same breath.

Back at The Blossom Shibuya, breakfast was East meets West — miso soup beside buttery croissants, fresh sashimi sharing a plate with espresso. “Cultural research,” we told ourselves, as we shamelessly went back for seconds. 

Later, at Meiji Jingu, we walked beneath towering torii gates where city noise faded into sacred silence. Every step felt like a small prayer — a reminder that even in the world’s busiest city, peace still finds its way.

Then came a day of contrasts — ancient and electric. A sumo practice in the morning, where strength met grace in every thundering step. Watching the wrestlers move in rhythm and respect was like witnessing living tradition. At Shibuya Sky, we floated above it all, watching Tokyo stretch endlessly below — a city of dreams glowing against the dusk.

At Tsukiji Fish Market, flame-seared toro melted into memory, followed by the earthy calm of Nakamura Tokichi, where matcha grounded the day in quiet reflection. Evening closed at Sushi Kadowaki, where every bite told a story — precise, pure, and unforgettable.

From Tokyo’s Pulse to Kyushu’s Quiet Soul 

The Shinkansen carried us out of Tokyo in a blur of speed and reflection — the city’s glass towers giving way to mountains, fields, and the quiet rhythm of Japan’s heartland. By the time we reached Hakata, the air felt different: gentler, touched by the sea. That evening, bowls of ramen at ShinShinworked their quiet magic — rich, savory, and soulful, the kind of meal that nourishes more than just hunger. 

With a rental car and a sense of freedom, we followed the coast the next morning — past harbors, pine-fringed beaches, and quiet fishing towns. A stop at Umi-Zuri Park offered the sea’s hush, while the Palm Tree Swing framed the horizon like a postcard come to life. Lunch at Futamigaura Seafood Restaurant was a feast of ocean flavors, chased by the serenity of Forest Café Midori no Oto, where coffee mingled with birdsong and the scent of cedar. Dinner back in Hakata brought us to Motsunabe Rakutenchi, a bubbling pot of warmth shared among laughter and clinking chopsticks. Later, the canals shimmered under lanterns as we wandered past yatai stalls — Fukuoka’s heartbeat glowing softly in the night. 

The next morning unfolded like a haiku. A quiet canal ride through Yanagawa, the boatman’s song rippling over the water. Grilled unagi at Wakamatsuya melted into memory, followed by matcha lattes at Hakushu Yanagawa that tasted of stillness. Drawn by the road, we detoured through tea plantations, chasing the purest matcha to bring home — a souvenir not of things, but of calm.

As the sun dipped low, Dazaifu Tenmangū Shrine welcomed us beneath its ancient torii. Plum trees whispered, ema boards fluttered with wishes, and time itself seemed to exhale. That evening, laundry hummed softly back at the hotel — a quiet, grounding reminder that even amid wonder, life’s simplest rhythms remain. 

Across Sky and Steam — From Nagasaki to Unzen

Morning light spilled into our room at THE BLOSSOM HAKATA Premier, the city still half-asleep. After breakfast, cappuccino for me and a latte for her (because coffee is a love language ), we set out toward Nagasaki in our trusty little Yaris — small car, big adventure.

Our first stop: the Nagasaki Peace Park — quiet, solemn, and powerful. Amid the sculptures and still air, peace didn’t feel abstract; it felt like something living, breathing. From there, the gondola to Mt. Inasa lifted us into the clouds, the city below twinkling like scattered stars even before sunset.

A stop at HAYAMA COFFEE Nagasaki Oranda-dori brought smiles back — two iced matcha lattes and a ham-and-egg sandwich to share. Then we wandered through Glover Garden, where old Western homes whispered stories of hope and exchange.

As daylight faded, the road led us up winding slopes to Hoshino Resorts KAI Unzen — a ryokan cradled in mist. Dinner was a quiet ceremony of flavors, and that night, wrapped in robes and stillness, we let the mountain lull us to sleep.

Whispers of Steam and Stillness — Unzen’s Mountain Magic

The morning began with our private onsen bath, sunlight filtering through steam — the kind of peace you don’t plan, you just fall into. After breakfast, we hiked the nearby trails, where the earth still whispered warmth from ancient fire.

Next came the Mt. Myoken Observatory and Unzen Ropeway, where clouds drifted like unhurried thoughts. We sipped iced matcha lattes at Café Kaion, watching the mist swirl around us — like nature itself was taking a slow breath.

At Hot Foot 105, we soaked our feet in volcanic waters while sweet potatoes and eggs steamed beside us — a humble feast that teaches you what enough truly feels like. 

On the drive back, we couldn’t resist dessert — black sesame ice cream from Totomiya Honpo, and shaved ice from YaraYara Sapin, both perfectly unnecessary and completely essential.

As night settled over Unzen, the air smelled of cedar, steam, and quiet happiness — a reminder that life’s best days often ask nothing more than to be noticed. 

Crossings, Calm, and Culinary Joy — Kumamoto Unfolded

The morning began with a quiet breakfast at the hotel, mist lingering over Unzen’s mountains. Then it was time to move again — bags packed, hearts light, and the road leading us toward Shimabara Port.

The sea stretched silver and endless as the ferry carried us across to Kumamoto, a peaceful voyage where the world seemed to slow just enough for reflection. Sometimes, it’s in these crossings — between mountain and sea — that travel feels most like meditation. 

Our first steps in Kumamoto led us to Suizenji Jojuen Garden, a place of still waters and gentle grace. Each bridge curved like a brushstroke, each pine tree shaped by time and care. The air was calm, the moment — perfect. 

By midday, we found warmth and rhythm at RHC Café Kumamoto, where sunlight poured through tall windows, and lunch came with laughter and the comfort of slow living. 

Afterward, we stood before Kumamoto Castle — strong, proud, and reborn from hardship. Its black-and-white silhouette gleamed against the sky, a quiet monument to resilience. 

As evening approached, we checked into THE BLOSSOM KUMAMOTO, a sanctuary of rest wrapped in gentle light. The hum of the city faded, replaced by the soft promise of another day’s adventure ahead. 

Dinner at Wagyu Yakiniku LIEBE at Amu Plaza Kumamoto closed the day on a savory high note. Tender wagyu slices sizzled on the grill, each bite a celebration of flavor, warmth, and simple joy. Back at the hotel afterward, the city lights twinkled outside, and we reflected on a day where every step — ferry, garden, castle, coffee, and meal — felt like its own small journey of wonder.

Journey Through Aso — Mountains, Springs, and Serenity

The morning began quietly at THE BLOSSOM KUMAMOTO, a simple breakfast before the road called again. We drove into the heart of Kyushu, where Mount Aso rose ahead like a sleeping giant, clouds brushing the horizon like soft whispers.

Climbing Mt. Nakadake, each step felt alive — the earth humming beneath our feet, the wind carrying stories of fire and time. At the summit, the world seemed infinite, and we understood that the journey isn’t about the peak — it’s about listening to the land and letting it awaken your own. 

After descending, we found calm again at Shirakawa Spring, where crystal waters danced in sunlight, a quiet gift from deep beneath the earth. Then we wandered the mossy torii of Kamishikimi Kumanoimasu Shrine, a hidden realm where time itself seemed to hold its breath.

As dusk fell, we arrived at Okyakuya Ryokan, where warmth awaited in tatami rooms and open-air baths. Steam rose into the mountain night, and the stars appeared — another day of Japan’s quiet magic coming gently to rest.

Morning Calm and Bridges in the Sky

The day began in quiet bliss — a dip in the resort onsen, steam curling into the crisp mountain air, the world still half-asleep. Nothing wakes the soul quite like nature and hot water. 

After a delicate kaiseki breakfast, we wandered Kurokawa’s sleepy streets in our yukata, wooden geta clacking softly on the path, the scent of cedar and bathhouse steam mingling with the morning hush. Just us, the gentle town, and the magic of being present. 

Next, the Kokonoe Suspension Bridge beckoned — Japan’s highest pedestrian bridge, draped dramatically over a lush gorge. Below, waterfalls tumbled; around us, clouds floated close enough to touch. Kyushu’s mountains had never felt more alive. 

Lunch called at Ishi-usu-biki Teuchi Soba Nukawa, a cozy soba house tucked among the trees. Hand-cut noodles, crisp tempura, and mountain spring water — simple, humble, unforgettable. Every bite tasted like poetry. 

By afternoon, we arrived in Yufuin, a storybook town cradled by mountains. Wandering the Floral Village and sipping matcha lattes at Café La Ruche by Lake Kinrin, we watched ripples shimmer in the autumn sunlight — quiet moments, perfectly framed. 

As evening approached, we checked in at Amane Resort Seikai in Beppu, our oceanfront haven. Waves whispered against the shore, the setting sun shimmered on the water, and stepping into our room felt like entering a moment suspended in time. Private onsen, soft tatami floors, and the scent of sea air — a gentle pause where the world could wait, and we could simply breathe. 

Sometimes the best journeys aren’t measured in miles, but in the quiet moments between — where time slows, and the world simply feels enough.

Steam, Serenity, and the Scent of Coffee

Morning began in Beppu with a quiet dip in our private onsen — steam curling in the cool air, the sea whispering just beyond. By 8:30, breakfast awaited: a peaceful ritual of flavors that made time itself slow down.

Then came a day of wonder — wandering through Beppu’s famed “Hells” — Beppu Jigoku, Oniishi Bozu Jigoku, and Kamado Jigoku — where the earth bubbles, breathes, and glows in colors that seem almost otherworldly. From the Yukemuri Observation Deck, the town stretched below us, its rising steam painting poetry against the sky.

In the afternoon, calm returned — a gentle matcha at Café SHU, then espresso drinks at Atelier on the Hill Overlooking the Sea, where cappuccinos met ocean breeze and everything felt quietly in balance.

By sunset, we walked to the Beppu Sand Beach Spa, letting the warm volcanic sand cradle us as the waves whispered nearby. A strange peace, soft and grounding — as if the earth itself was tucking us in.

Dinner at Unagi no Naruse Beppu closed the day beautifully — tender, smoky eel over rice, rich with sweetness and memory. A meal that felt like a deep bow of gratitude to the journey itself.

Beppu isn’t just a destination — it’s a rhythm, a breath between the mountains and the sea.

Whispers of Stone and Sea

The day began in quiet steam — one last onsen dip before breakfast, the mist rising like a soft goodbye from Beppu. The road led us through sacred forests to Amanoiwato Shrine, where sunlight filtered through ancient trees, and the air carried a hush older than time.

At Takachiho Gorge, emerald waters flowed gently between volcanic cliffs — a landscape carved by gods or patience itself. It was a place that made you slow down, breathe deeper, and simply be.

By evening, the journey returned us to the sea. We checked in at the Sheraton Grande Ocean Resort, the coastline unfurling like a dream. Dinner at Sushi Tora Shinbeppu Honten was a quiet masterpiece — each bite a reminder that art doesn’t always hang on walls; sometimes, it’s served on rice.

Where the Sea Keeps Time

The morning began slow and unhurried — a late breakfast at the Sheraton Grande Ocean Resort, sunlight pouring in from the coast. By late morning, we were on the road heading south, tracing the scenic Nichinan coastline, where the ocean stretched endlessly beside us.

Our first stop was Aoshima, a tiny island wrapped in myth and beauty. At Aoshima Beach Park, the salty breeze and soft rhythm of waves made time blur — the kind of place that invites you to pause and simply breathe. We walked by the Nichinan Kaigan Quasi-National Park monument, then continued on to Sunmesse Nichinan, home to Japan’s Moai statues — guardians of the Pacific, standing stoic and sunlit against the horizon.

For lunch, we stopped at 磯料理 星倉 (Isoryori Hoshikura), a seaside gem serving fresh local catch — each bite tasting of the ocean just steps away.

Sometimes, travel isn’t about seeing more, but about feeling more — and today, the sea itself felt like a companion. 

Tracing the Northern Shores

The morning unfolded gently — a slow breakfast at the Sheraton Grande Ocean Resort, sunlight spilling across the table like a quiet blessing. After days of southbound discovery, we turned north this time, following the rhythm of the coast once more.

Our first stop: 日本一大きいさざれ石, Japan’s largest sazare-ishi — the ancient stone that symbolizes endurance and unity. Weathered yet proud, it felt like a reminder of how time shapes everything worth keeping.

From there, we drifted along the Sanpo Coast Observatory and the Sea Cross, where waves met in perfect symmetry — two tides converging as if to whisper that all journeys eventually circle back.

We walked the Umagase Promenade, wind in our hair, cliffs dropping dramatically into the Pacific below — wild, beautiful, and alive. The day closed with soft sand underfoot at Kanegahama Beach, the sun slowly lowering into the horizon.

By late afternoon, we returned to the hotel to unwind before our final dinner in Kyushu — a fitting finale at Miyachiku Beef Teppanyaki Steakhouse. There, Miyazaki wagyu sizzled on the grill, rich aromas filling the air as the chef turned each bite into theater. Every taste felt like a celebration — of place, of journey, of being here, now.

Because in the end, the true luxury of travel isn’t in what you see or spend — it’s in what you feel when the world pauses, and you realize you’ve been fully alive all along.