Minakami Madness: Inaka Luxury

Matt Ketchum
9 min readDec 22, 2020

Define Your Own Luxury

My life’s pretty hectic, and I think I like it that way, but even so yet another thing that I appreciate about all of these inaka experiences of mine is that they really force you to unwind. Sometimes this is in more fortunate settings than others, but at the end of the day, once the dark comes in a lot of these communities, you’re not going out for anything but an emergency, and so there’s a whole lot of me-time.

And this, I think, is becoming part of my own definition of luxury, more so than the cash price put to accommodations or experiences. Splendor or squalor, getting out there into the sticks, integrating with local communities, and exploring the inaka landscape is, if anything, an exhilarating, life-affirming activity. After a day packed with such highly valuable human experiences, its great to have some time to sit back and relax on your own.

How do you do that, you ask? Well…

- I mentioned playing a game called Stardew Valley in my last post, which is a good one. Minecraft has also caught my eye of late. What a game that is!
- I also have an ongoing calligraphy-meets-cryptography project I spend a good bit of time developing and documenting.
- Believe it or not, I have very little training as concerns video production and editing, so working on that is always in the background
- I’m a musician and compose songs for my band and for my own enjoyment.

All of the above and more could be you if your organization bothered changing the way it goes about its business, but let’s jump back into the story, shall we?…

Day 2

After unwinding over a few beers and some snacks, it was finally time for bed. The Minakami house is basically complete, but when Cory and I were discussing plans, he pointed out that bedsheets and blankets were not part of the deal. Which, in retrospect, I sort of wonder was more they just don’t want to do laundry than they don’t have bedding in the house… Would seem kinda funny if a house that put together merely lacked the means of sound sleep.

Regardless, I brought a sleeping bag to make up for the lack of comforters. Funny thing about that sleeping bag is that I’ve had it for close to 2 years and originally bought it to use on my multi-day bike treks, during which I usually just camp somewhere with a tent. However, because I almost always take those long rides through the countryside in the summer, I’ve never had reason to take the sleeping bag along with me because I simply don’t need it in the heat. So it’s sat there in one closet or another since I bought it, unused, though certainly not unloved.

Luxuriously Brisk

I awoke early on a beautiful chill morning, the sun shining through the curtains with the silver strands of autumnal dawn. I’m not really a morning person, but the merits of getting up early aren’t entirely lost on me.

First order of business was a shower, and here is where I ran into a minor issue: the hot water wasn’t on for anything but the bathtub. Since I didn’t feel like being a nuisance, I improvised: brief spats of freezing shower followed by submersion in a piping hot pool.

This is actually quite similar to a routine I had at a Seattle spa called Banya 5 in which I would alternate between sauna and ice bath, so I wasn’t all too unfamiliar with the extreme temperature variation. Apparently there are health benefits to this, but none are scientifically proven, so I more or less think of this as a practice in will power. Even so, familiarity doesn’t reduce the shock, but while it is a somewhat uncomfortable, it sure as shit opens up your eyes. And with that brisk foray out of the way, I entered the day hyper-aware of my surroundings.

Up the stairs and into the kitchen I went to prepare breakfast, which consisted of opening the camouflaged refrigerator to retrieve a Tuna-mayo onigiri, and boiling some water for instant coffee. This might sound pedestrian, but I assure you the one-two punch of GMO-infused fatty carbohydrates and tasteless rehydrated caffeine is the epitome of luxury.

T’Workin’

Our schedule that day only began after noon, so I took my time in getting my affairs in order. While enjoying breakfast, I hopped onto the wi-fi network to get some work done.

Of particular interest that day was my need to respond to Jessop Petrosky’s request for quotes to use in an article he was writing for The Japan Times about akiya, and the feasibility of *actually* buying one to move into. It goes without saying that I’m quite passionate about this topic, and ended up writing a few pages to get him what he needed.

While Jessop only needed a few good quotes, I’m not the type to just blurt some stuff out without context, so I sat down and thoughtfully answered his questions in paragraph form. The crux of what I ended up writing was that there’s a toxic, binary narrative infecting a lot of perceptions about Japan’s countryside. This narrative basically posits that anything outside of Tokyo and labelled an akiya is garbage, which is anything but true — as the luxury 3-story akiya I was writing in was testament to.

I finished that up in an hour or so, go to a few emails, and checked out activity across our digital presence. Around noon, I grabbed my coat, laced up my boots, and revved up the Jimny, ready for a day exploring Minakami.

Down from the Hills

I started on the long, winding descent down the mountain into Minakami to meet up with Cory at 711. Past ponds, through forests, and over potholes, the road back to civilization is fraught with peril, but eventually I emerged from the wilderness unscathed, and to great fanfare as the sky was miraculously full of rainbows. This is a quality of Minakami that isn’t spoken of too much, but it appears to just have daily rainbows. Weird.

Our first plan for the day was lunch at the city’s well-regarded pizzeria La Bier, and this certainly got me excited. Traveling Japan, you learn to appreciate many regional foods, mostly of a traditional caliber. While I enjoy that luxury, its nice every once in a while to see something that bucks the trend.

To that end, we headed North from 711 for about 20 minutes, through old townscapes full of spectacular traditional buildings, along the mighty Tone River, and into the town of Minakami proper. We parked at a roadside michi no eki, and got out for a walk through the town, accompanied by Cory’s dog, Scorpius.

Minakami’s a very north-south town as it’s situated in between two mountain ranges, and so as we walked through the various locales within the town limits, forever present was the looming gaze of snowcapped mountains. As we walked, Cory pointed out establishments to pay attention to: local craft brewery Octone, a friend’s restaurant Ruins, a newly opened cafe, and more, all of which strengthened my impression that Minakami is a tightly knit, communal town. Cory will cop to that.

The Epitome of Luxury

We reached the pizza place and were quickly seated. Minakami is a pretty quiet spot after the Summer Sports and before the Winter Sports arrive in normal time, but with Coronatime there is a whole new level of inactivity, so its not as if we had any crowds to battle.

Seated outside, we were soon presented with menus, which featured a decent selection of pizza toppings, much of which were locally harvested or made — we got the mushroom and pepperoni varieties. The server asked if we’d like to try one of the local beers they had available, but given that we were driving turned down the offer — maybe next time.

As we tucked in, we got to talking about his business, life in Minakami, opportunities in rural regions and, unsurprisingly, akiya. The region is chock full of them, and some are beginning to be used in promising, novel ways. There’s an abandoned elementary school that’s been repurposed as a teleworking space. A pension that’s being retrofitted for the 21st century. Discussions about transforming ryokan into wellness retreats, and more. It helps quite a bit that Minakami has such a high number of outdoor experiences in the area, and also a notable foreign presence, that these projects don’t seem all that wacky or unreasonable at all for your average person.

A Walk Around the Town

After about an hour and 2 pizzas (Italian style, btw, not NYC), we finished up and headed back to the parking area, where there was a riverside trail which Cory wanted to show me.the great outdoors of Minakami. We walked along for 30 or so minutes, and Cory spoke of more adventurous fare: trail running, bear attacks, bungee jumping, oh my! Up until this point I appreciated the business potential of a place like Minakami much more than I was able to the experiential, but with Cory’s anecdotes it became much more clear that a “sleepy” town in Japan’s rural reaches quickly becomes something /much/ more exciting without much work.

We doubled back at a red bridge crossing the river maybe 30 meters below, taking the time to scope out a few of the vacant hotels along the shore line as we went. Once back at the parking lot, we each got into our respective vehicles and Cory led the way with me following. Back towards Kamimoku, towards the house I was staying, because right near the blue house which Cory pointed out the night before there is a newly completed cafe built by outdoor sports enthusiasts called OneDrop.

We parked at another nearby house which Cory manages, and walked down the hill to OneDrop as the sun was beginning to set. Over the course of my time in Minakami, I got the feeling that dusk comes earlier there than it does elsewhere, perhaps due to the surrounding mountains blocking the sun out earlier than on a plain. Or maybe I’m just making stuff up, but either way, the fact is it was starting to get dark.

OneDrop, 4 Cups

Outside stood the owners, two gentlemen in their mid-40s or early 50s. They warmly greeted us and we almost immediately began speaking about akiya with noticeable excitement. We spoke about the “modern” Japanese real estate market and it’s turf rivalries, competing portfolios, and conspicuously convoluted intel structure, all of which makes it extremely difficult for a potential buyer to assess the core qualities of any property they’re interested in, needlessly complicating the process.

On top of that, there’s the government mandated 3% commission which all agents chase after as their main source of income. This disincentivizes an agent from working on anything but high-end, conventionally conveniently located properties, such that quality ones which fall outside of that definition get considerably less attention and upkeep as the more attractive ones, dooming them to

These 2 factors together create a vicious cycle in which the damned properties fall further out of favor due to no fault of their own while at the same time concentrating the easily accessible property pool with more and more top-end listings, all due merely to standard practice.

We flip that script, I said to much interest. By not tying ourselves to any 1 region we open up the opportunity for bespoke portfolio curation, and by opting for a largely fee based model we create a service that is solely focused on accommodating your needs.

“Oh. That’s incredible.” One said. “Why the hell hasn’t anyone does that before?” The other chimed in, and then we went inside into their new establishment for more talk of the akiya market and inaka life over drip coffee and fresh mikan.

A Day Spent in Inaka Luxury

After an hour or so, we decided to call it a day. We wrapped up our pleasant conversation by exchanging meishi, and we were soon on our way. I wasn’t yet headed back to the house, but to the local supermarket for something a bit healthier than what 711 typically offers for dinner. Plus I just don’t like repeating meals day after day.

The trip to Beisia took maybe 15 minutes, and jeez was it worth it. This one is apparently the largest in the area, and was really quite well stocked. I grabbed some beef, spinach, tomatoes, red onion, oil & vinegar, blue cheese (all local) and a few other ingredients for a simple steak salad, and a bottle of red wine, loaded that into the Jimny, and started making my way back up the mountain, again in the chill evening air and this time with a much better understanding of my surroundings after having spent the day exploring with Cory.

Way back in the day I fashioned myself as a pretty decent chef, but having spent so many years cooped up in small Tokyo apartments with mere micro-facsimiles of a functional kitchen, I worried my ability to navigate one had waned. Fortunately, the kitchen at this Minakami property is a real winner (details here), and I spent the waning hours of my second day in beautiful Minakami cooking up a storm, enjoying wine, and grooving to the dulcet sounds of Uncle Acid & The Deadbeats.

Luxury is a word whose definition morphs with each person, and up there in the cool dark of Minakami’s hills and forests reflecting on a day spent with new friends, experiencing new foods, and speaking about passions shared jointly, I must say, I’m pretty sure that’s my definition.

To see more stories like this, and to learn about opportunities in rural Japan, visit Akiya & Inaka

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Matt Ketchum

Consultant, curator, musician, amateur documentarian & calligrapher, hovering between Seattle and Tokyo. www.matthewbketchum.com