First travel post in a while, but this one is kind of special. Shirakawago (sometimes seen as Shirakawago-go) has been at the top of my Japanese bucket list almost since the beginning of my Japan infatuation.  From the first time I saw those gasshou-zukuri (“hands raised in prayer”) farmhouses spread out across that valley I was captivated.  It’s taken me way longer to get there than it should have, but today that long wait finally came to an end as I sandwiched a visit in on the way from Kanazawa to Takayama (my second visit to those two places, both of which I love).

Not for the first time I have to acknowledge that this pandemic has had one positive impact – the ability to see places like Shirakawago (and much of Kyoto) while not being swarmed by foreign tourists.  I suppose I didn’t see it at its best weather-wise – light rain and chilly but you sense it’s the sort of natural beauty that would shine in any season. The clouds on the surrounding peaks gave it a nice Hinamizawa atmosphere, and the sun actually peeked through when I climbed to the observatory at the castle ruins for the classic money shot of the valley below.

Yes, Hinamizawa – for Shirakawago is the basis for the setting in Higurashi no Naku Koro ni.  I’ve no idea if Ryukichi07 is from there – it’s a famous place anyway – but he certainly nailed the details.  By no means am I a hard-core Higuashi fanboy but it can’t be denied that the setting is extremely evocative. And most evocative for me was standing outside Rika and Satoko’s house (yes, this is definitely it).  It’s just, you know, a house – somebody lives there (Uncle Teppei – is that you?).  It felt very surreal to be standing there staring at it.  Again, no idea of Ryukichi is actually from there but I can totally get the whole Rika thing, even if there were no curse. Surely – especially pre-internet – you’d get bored with all that idyll.  But for me, I mean, damn – just look at the place.

Higurashi has nothing to do with my obsession, though.  What intensified it wasn’t Higurashi (I didn’t even know about the connection then) but finding out it was one place Taira refugees hid after the Genpei War, as the Minamoto were trying to eradicate every trace of the clan and their followers from the planet.  Places like Shirakawago (and Iya Valley) were incredibly remote in those days.  It’s much easier to get there now, but you can easily see why it would appeal to people desperate to stay hidden.

In a way Shirakawago reminded me a bit of the Lauterbrunnen Valley in the Swiss Alps, another place I consider myself incredibly lucky to have visited.  Those little villages in Switzerland can’t survive based on tourist and farming income (especially now) alone, but the Swiss government subsidizes them because they’re the last place where traditional Alpine ways survive.  I don’t know for a fact that the Japanese government does the same but I wouldn’t be surprised – this is not only a last refuge for similar traditions, but the only place where these farmhouses are commonly seen.

It’s hard to overstate just how beautiful those gasshou-zukuri houses are. Which it ironic, since their design is strictly utilitarian, an attempt to survive in an incredibly harsh environment (which is why the inhabitants fled there in the first place).  The sloping roofs are designed to slough off snow (the village averages about 35 feet of snow per winter) before it gets heavy enough to collapse the house.  Every bit of space was utilized – gunpowder was made in the basement, secretly of course (Shirakawago and its neighbor Gokayama have a complicated political history).  Ground level was given over to farming implements and cookware.  And the upper levels were used for silkworm cultivation.

The design is utilitarian by necessity, but the end result is stunningly graceful and beautiful, especially given the equally stunning natural setting.  It’s hard to imagine a place not being a letdown when you’ve built it up in your imagination for so long, but Shirakawago was anything but. By late afternoon there was really nothing to “do”, per se, but I found myself not wanting to leave.  I’ve been to so many amazing parts of this country but this…. It’s unique.  I’m sure the experience wouldn’t have been the same with busloads of tourists swarming the place, but I can only go by my own experience.  It’s an incredibly special place.