Timothy took the express bus from Shinjuku to get there. He got on the Kiso Fukushima Line Keio Express Bus at the massive Busta Shinjuku bus terminal and got off at the Narai-juku bus stop, where he joined Mr. Morita.

Morita asked, "How was the bus ride?"

Timothy smiled. "The view of Lake Suwa was absolutely stunning—and the trip only took a bit over four hours, which honestly wasn’t bad at all."

Morita nodded and added, "Shiojiri sits right above the tunnel you pass after Lake Suwa. That’s where it links up with the Nakasendo, which, like the Tokaido, once connected Edo to Kyoto."

He went on, "Today, the Tokaido Shinkansen follows the old Tokaido route along the coast, while the Nakasendo winds through the mountains. Along both roads were many inn towns—Narai-juku, for example, was the 34th stop from Nihonbashi on the Nakasendo."

Narai-juku, located in Shiojiri City, Nagano Prefecture, exudes a distinctive charm. Around 1 km of its main street has been beautifully preserved, offering a vivid glimpse into the Edo period.

As you stroll through this designated preservation area, it’s easy to feel as if you've stepped back in time. The scene sparks the imagination of many visitors, especially foreigners curious about Japan’s past.

Timothy looked around and said with awe, "This street really captures the image of Old Japan that we Westerners always picture. I love it here."

Morita nodded. "Exactly—the same kind of Japan that Isabella Bird and Lafcadio Hearn once described. About 150 years ago, towns all over the country probably looked just like this. The atmosphere, especially at dusk, is magical."

Narai-juku was once the most prosperous inn town along the Nakasendo, earning the nickname “Narai Sengen,” or “Narai of the Thousand Shops.”

Today, it still holds onto that legacy. About 70 inns, restaurants, and souvenir shops continue to operate in original Edo-period buildings that once made this town thrive.

Echigoya, founded during the Kansei era (1789–1800), has been in operation for over 230 years since the Edo period.

At its entrance, the misenoma features a Hatago Andon—an Edo-period oil lampstand crafted entirely from zelkova wood, with a wooden frame and paper shade.

When they arrived, Mr. Nagai—the ninth-generation proprietor—greeted Mr. Morita and Timothy with a warm, formal welcome.

Morita looked around in admiration. "This structure hasn’t changed since the Edo period. Back then, guests would sit right here, take off their zori sandals, and carefully wipe their feet."

Echigoya has operated continuously since the Kansei era, carefully preserving its historic building.

Each night, it hosts just two parties—up to six guests total—who can enjoy seasonal Kisoji cuisine, with meals featuring wild vegetables and river fish served morning and evening.

In summer, when the windows on the first floor were opened to let in the cool air, it was called kunpuro—with kunpu meaning “balmy breeze” and ro meaning “tower.”

The guest room features a lacquered table that’s over a century old, and visitors can enjoy the traditional experience of sitting on tatami mats with cushions. In winter, guests warm up by sitting at a kotatsu or near a hibachi [brazier].

A kotatsu is a low wooden table covered by a futon or thick blanket, with a tabletop on top and a heat source—originally a charcoal brazier—underneath.

Mr. Nagai shared, “Lately, about a third of our guests have been from overseas.”

Timothy smiled and replied, “I’m not surprised. Staying at an inn this authentic must feel like a dream come true for many Westerners.”

After exploring the charming streets of Narai-juku, their next adventure awaited: a journey into the Edo-period Nakasendo.

They headed to the Torii Pass, a steep 6-kilometer mountain trail known since ancient times as one of the Nakasendo’s toughest segments. To start the trek, they took a train from Narai Station to nearby Yabuhara Station—just one stop away, in the direction opposite Nagoya. From there, they would walk back toward Narai, retracing history along the old highway.

After walking about 10 minutes along the street from Yabuhara Station, you will come upon the mountain path.

Morita continued, reflecting on the Nakasendo's historical role.

"Back in the Edo period," he said, "this highway was vital. It was part of the Sankin-kōtai system, where feudal lords had to travel between their domains and Edo every other year—a massive undertaking."

He added, "Just imagine—every year, lords from all over Japan made that journey. It brought a constant flow of travelers and income to inn towns like Narai, which thrived with all the activity and life it generated."

Timothy, intrigued by the towering Torii gate, turned to Morita.
"So this is Mitake Shrine?" he asked. "That gate is really something."

Morita nodded, ready to share the story.
"It is impressive—and there's meaning behind it. The Torii Pass actually gets its name from this gate. Long ago, the local feudal lord fought a fierce battle against the lord of Matsumoto. Before the fight, he came here to pray to Mt. Ontake for victory—and he won. In thanks, he built Mitake Shrine and this giant Torii gate right on this spot."

As they continued their journey along the Nakasendo, Timothy reflected on the experience.

"Walking along this road in the footsteps of people from the Edo period," he mused, "was truly moving. You get this profound sense of unity with nature that's incredibly satisfying."

After crossing the Torii Pass and trekking for about three hours on the mountain path, they found themselves back at Narai-juku once more. Their arrival marked the end of their activities for the day.

Following their extensive hike along the Nakasendo, much like people did during the Edo period, they were finally able to enjoy a restful night, reaping the rewards of their adventurous day.

On the second day of their trip, Timothy and Morita rented a car to explore the Suwa region, starting with the Hiraide Heritage site.

As they neared the area, Morita offered some background. "Hiraide Heritage is close to Shiojiri Station," he said. "People have lived here since the Jomon period, and archaeologists have uncovered around 290 pit dwellings and other structures dating from then up to the Heian period."

At the site, they were welcomed by Mr. Nakajima, an expert on the area, who kindly offered to guide them and share his insights.

As Mr. Nakajima began the tour of the Hiraide Heritage site, he shared some compelling historical context.

"People have lived on this land since ancient times," he said. "Most of the structures you see here date back about 5,000 years."

Morita, always eager to connect global histories, added, "That’s around 3,000 BC—the same era as the pyramids in Egypt and Stonehenge in England. It’s incredible to imagine. Thanks to the experts restoring these ruins, we can now glimpse what life might have looked like all those thousands of years ago."

Hiraide Heritage is built around the captivating theme of “the land of Hiraide from 5,000 years ago.”

This concept comes alive through the careful reconstruction of three villages—from the Jomon, Kofun, and Heian periods—each open for visitors to freely explore.

As Timothy stepped inside one of the restored dwellings at Hiraide Heritage, he took a moment to reflect.

"So they built fires indoors," he said, examining the setup. "The kitchen seems surprisingly advanced—and with a thatched roof, I imagine the smoke helped keep insects away, just like in the gassho-zukuri homes of Shirakawa-go."

Morita nodded. "Exactly—and it probably helped keep the place warm too."

As Timothy looked around, he made a thoughtful connection.
"The kitchen setup here reminds me of what we saw from the Kofun period," he noted.

Morita nodded and elaborated, "That’s called a kamado—basically an oven. It used an underground chimney to vent smoke outside, which kept the interior clear and made cooking more efficient. It’s amazing how advanced the design was, even back then."

At Hiraide Heritage, visitors can try hands-on activities like making fire and crafting magatama jewels.

The restored dwellings are open to explore freely during park hours, and guides are on hand to share the history behind the archaeological sites.

Their next stop was the Jinchokan Moriya Historical Museum, home to a valuable collection of documents passed down through generations of the Moriya family, who once served as high-ranking priests of the Suwa Grand Shrine.

As they approached, Timothy admired the architecture. "Those pillars supporting the overhanging roof are really striking," he said.

Morita nodded. "This building was designed by Terunobu Fujimori, a well-known architect and professor at the University of Tokyo who specializes in architectural history. His work is often described as 'Jomon architecture.'"

He continued, "This land was once ruled by the Moriya Clan, who worshiped Mt. Moriya as a deity. Later, they were overtaken by a clan from Izumo, whose leader became king. But rather than suppress the local faith, the new rulers honored it, establishing the Suwa Grand Shrine and recognizing the Moriya lineage as the Jinchokan, or head priests."

Inside, there’s an exhibit on Ontosai, the most important festival of the Suwa Grand Shrine.

One striking display features the heads of 25 deer—and some wild boars—that were offered to the deity, making for a rather surprising sight.

Morita pointed to a distinctive exhibit inside the museum.
"This is a reconstruction of the Ontosai ceremony," he said. "It’s a ritual of thanks to the gods, and this version is based on records by Sugae Masumi, a traveler who explored Hokkaido and northern Tohoku during the late Edo period. He witnessed the ceremony during a visit to Suwa and described it in great detail."

After viewing the exhibits, they stepped outside, where Morita gestured ahead.
"Just nearby," he noted, "are three fascinating buildings also designed by Terunobu Fujimori."

They are called the Flying Mud Boat, Takasugi-an, and Hikusugi-an, the latter two floating tea ceremony rooms. It seems that many students studying architecture come from overseas to see these structures.

After their visit to the Jinchokan Moriya Historical Museum, Morita and Timothy continued on to the Suwa Grand Shrine Kamisha Hongu, once used by the Jinchokan.

The Suwa Grand Shrine is spread across four sites around Lake Suwa. This time, they chose to visit Kamisha Hongu, the upper main shrine located on the lake’s southern shore.

Morita shared more about the Suwa Grand Shrine.
"It’s actually composed of four separate shrines," he explained. "The Lower Shrines are Harumiya and Akimiya, while the Upper Shrines are Honmiya and Maemiya. The Upper Shrines are dedicated to Takeminakata no Kami, a son of Ōkuninushi—the deity linked to Izumo Province."

Timothy gazed up in awe at the massive wooden pillars of the Suwa Grand Shrine.
"These columns are huge!" he exclaimed.

Morita smiled, clearly proud. "They really are—and they’re what make the Suwa Grand Shrine so distinctive. It’s almost as if the four pillars are standing guard over the shrine. We call them onbashira, which means ‘honorable columns’ in Japanese."

He continued, "Every seven years, there’s a major festival here where these columns are replaced. Massive trees are cut down in the mountains, and teams of people slide them down steep slopes—with some even riding on top. It’s a powerful tradition and a huge event for the local communities."

Timothy nodded. "I’ve seen photos of that festival. The way people here honor those trees is truly something special."

As they explored more of the Suwa Grand Shrine, Morita shared a bit of Japanese folklore with Timothy.
"By the way," he began, "in Japan, October was traditionally called Kannazuki, which means 'the month with no gods.' That’s because it was believed all the gods left their shrines to gather in Izumo for their annual meeting."

Timothy, intrigued, asked, "But isn’t Izumo the hometown of Takeminakata?"

"Exactly," Morita replied. "Takeminakata, the god of the Suwa Grand Shrine, is originally from Izumo."

He continued, "Interestingly, people in Izumo don’t call it Kannazuki. They say Kamiarizuki—'the month with gods'—since that’s where the gods are gathering. And here in Suwa, locals also call it Kamiarizuki. The reason? Takeminakata was exiled from Izumo to Suwa, so he’s never invited to the divine gathering. That’s why the gods are said to remain here."

Timothy smiled. "That’s fascinating. I love how these stories still resonate so strongly today, especially with a shrine like this tied so deeply to the mythology."

After exploring the Suwa Grand Shrine and soaking in its cultural richness, the travelers took a well-earned break.

They headed to Tokoro Terrace, a cozy shop and café beside a tokoroten factory. Just inside the entrance, a large glass partition offered a clear view of the fascinating process behind making tokoroten, a traditional seaweed-based dish.

Nagano is known for its local specialties, and tokoroten and agar are among its most celebrated.

At the café in the back of Tokoro Terrace, visitors can enjoy a variety of dishes and desserts highlighting these regional ingredients. Morita, keen to try the local flavors, ordered the Original Tokoroten—made solely from tengusa, a red algae prized for its distinct texture and taste.

Timothy ordered the Espresso Anmitsu; espresso poured over ice cream and agar like an affogato.

Timothy, curious about Suwa’s connection to a seaweed-based product despite being inland, asked,
"I heard tokoroten is a local specialty here, but Suwa’s pretty far from the ocean. How did that come to be?"

Morita smiled, ready with a story.
"It is a bit unusual," he said. "But the tale goes like this: a Suwa merchant visited Kyoto on business and came across agar, which was still relatively rare at the time. He learned about it from a chef there and saw its potential as a winter product for Suwa."

He went on, "He spent three years perfecting the technique and eventually introduced agar production to the region. Thanks to his dedication, Suwa became known for a seaweed-based specialty—despite being nowhere near the sea."

Morita continued, offering more insight into the Suwa merchant’s thinking.

"He realized that Suwa’s cold winters, paired with clear, dry weather, made it perfect for agar production," he said.

"In the past," he added, "farmers here often left for Edo in winter because there wasn’t much agricultural work. So the merchant saw a smart opportunity—using the local climate and available workforce to build a new winter industry around agar."

Inside the shop, you can purchase Original Tokoroten made with 100% tengusa, Domestically Produced Natural Agar Squares, for which the Suwa region is famous, and sweets made with agar.

After leaving Tokoro Terrace, they followed the scenic north shore of Lake Suwa until they reached the Harmo Museum. From this vantage point, they were treated to a breathtaking view—Mt. Fuji visible in the distance beyond the surrounding mountains. There, they had the chance to speak with the museum’s director, Mr. Seki, and the curator, Mr. Mori.

Morita, taken by the view, remarked, "The scenery from here is absolutely stunning."

Director Seki nodded enthusiastically. "That was our goal," he said. "At the Harmo Museum, we wanted visitors to enjoy not just the art, but the landscape too. That’s why we created a café space designed around the view."

Timothy smiled. "Being able to sip coffee while looking out at this? That’s a fantastic idea."

Director Seki shared more about the Harmo Museum’s distinctive theme and collection.
"Our focus is on 'art and simplicity,'" he explained, "so we’ve curated an impressive collection of naïve art, including nine works by Henri Rousseau."

He continued, "We also feature artists like Grandma Moses, who began painting seriously at 70, and André Bauchant, a gardener who discovered his passion for art later in life."

Timothy, reflecting on his own background, added to the discussion.
"'The harmony of man and nature' really resonates with Grandma Moses' work," he said. "Being from Upstate New York myself, her paintings of rural life in the eastern U.S. feel deeply nostalgic to me."

Mr. Mori, the curator, offered his insight into what makes the artwork so compelling.
"If you look closely," he said, "you’ll spot things like oversized flowers or shadows that don’t quite follow the rules. From a traditional standpoint, they might seem off—but that’s exactly what gives them their unique charm."

Morita nodded and encouraged others to experience it for themselves.
"Come to the Suwa district," he said. "Immerse yourself in Japan’s rich mythology, and stop by this lakeside museum. To view naïve art from around the world while taking in the stunning scenery—it’s an experience that truly stays with you."

For their final stop in Suwa, they visited the Katakurakan—a striking retro Western-style building along the eastern shore of Lake Suwa.

Morita, always ready with historical context, shared the story behind it.
"Suwa, especially around Okaya City, once flourished thanks to sericulture and the silk industry," he explained. "Kentaro Katakura, born in 1862, founded a spinning company here that became the largest in the Orient. He earned the nickname 'the silk emperor.'"

He went on, "During his travels, Katakura was deeply inspired by the welfare facilities he saw in Karlsberg, in the Czech Republic. He decided to use his profits not just for his company, but for the community. So in 1928, he built the Katakurakan—a bathhouse designed as both a welfare facility and a gathering place."

More than just a bathhouse, the Katakurakan was built to serve the community. It features a 1.1-meter-deep pool called the Senninburo or “Thousand-person bath,” and the annex includes large rooms for social and communal activities.

The director, Mr. Yamazaki, showed them around the hall annex. Every part of the interior has been decorated with elaborate designs by skilled craftsmen.

Mr. Yamazaki added a fascinating historical note to their visit.
"Marshal-Admiral Togo Heihachiro," he said, "personally wrote a congratulatory message when this building was completed."

Morita nodded, making the connection. "I remember hearing that the silk industry helped generate the foreign currency used to buy the warships that defeated the Russian navy."

"Exactly," Mr. Yamazaki confirmed. "It’s very likely that Togo’s message to Kentaro Katakura was an expression of gratitude, acknowledging the silk industry’s vital role in supporting Japan’s naval power."

Mr. Yamazaki pointed out one of the building’s most impressive features.
"This room spans 204 tatami mats," he said. "What makes it truly remarkable is that there are no supporting columns—quite a rare architectural feat."

Timothy, used to Tokyo’s tight urban spaces, was clearly impressed.
"Absolutely," he said. "Living in Tokyo, I’ve gotten used to cramped rooms. Seeing a space this open is really something special."

Katakurakan is famous for its Sennin bath, but unfortunately, there was not enough time to take a bath because it was getting close to the time to take the express bus back to the city.

Mr. Yamazaki expressed a touch of regret.
"I'm sorry you didn’t get a chance to try the bath," he said. "It’s 1.1 meters deep, with smooth round pebbles lining the bottom. Despite being called the 'Thousand-person bath,' it comfortably fits about a hundred people at once."

Timothy, clearly intrigued, replied with a smile, "I’d love to come back soon and really take in that one-of-a-kind bathing experience!"

Though with a hint of a disappointment for being unable to take a dip in the Katakurakan's 1000-person bath this time, Mr. Morita and Timothy safely made their way to Kamisuwa Station, where they boarded the Suwa Okaya Line Keio Express Bus going back to Shinjuku.

Their leisurely journey through the Suwa region had been nothing short of extraordinary, revealing a rich tapestry of history and culture.

From the ancient Jomon ruins to the Edo-period charm of the Nakasendo, they explored layers of the past. They marveled at the Meiji-era Katakurakan bathhouse, a symbol of innovation, and admired art that celebrated the harmony between people and nature.

Along the way, they discovered the enduring tradition of tree worship, rooted in the Jomon period and still alive around Lake Suwa. They also learned of the region’s power struggles—between the Moriya Clan and the gods of Izumo—ending in a uniquely Japanese reconciliation.

Their time in Suwa left them with a deep appreciation for its layered heritage and timeless beauty.