Day 5 began, once again, in the rain—soft and steady, as if nudging me gently toward the mountains. In Japan, people often joke about being an “Ame Onna” (a “rain woman” who seems to bring rain wherever she goes) or a “Hare Onna” (a “sun woman” who always brings good weather). I’m definitely the former—the rain always seems to follow me! Still, despite the gray skies, I felt calm and ready for a slower pace today.
My cousin joined me for this overnight trip, and we already knew it would be a fun girls’ getaway. We grew up together and are the same age, so there’s always so much to share. Like me, she had been living outside of our hometown for many years and returned this spring after 15 years away.
I took a short break to soak in the sweeping view from Mount Aso. Even under cloudy skies, the landscape was breathtaking—mist curling along the hills, green stretching endlessly. These quiet moments are what I come for.
The first stop was the Zenzo Sakamoro Museum, tucked away on the mountainside. I was there to pick up a few items I’d ordered, but as always, the space offered more than just a transaction. It’s a small museum in my hometown that not many people know about, but it holds a gentle kind of magic. I’ve always loved the peaceful, quiet atmosphere here—it invites you to slow down and notice.
This time, I wasn’t alone. Sharing the visit with my cousin felt grounding. Watching her bow respectfully at the nearby shrine reminded me how special it is to experience these places with someone close.
Right beside the shrine, we stumbled across something unexpected—a sumo wrestling ring. I’d never seen one in person before. The size and simplicity of it somehow made it feel even more powerful. A quiet arena, waiting.
Later, we met up with Mugihiko, a local ceramicist. I had planned to visit his studio to pick up some of his pieces.
As always, he and his family welcomed us with open arms. One of my favorite parts of visiting is seeing how his daughter, Konatsu and Komichi, grows each year—they are such bubbly, sweet girls, full of energy!
Mugihiko laughed as he said, “Konatsu has already broken many of my pieces, as you can see…” Haha! It was such a lighthearted glimpse into family life, and it made his ceramics feel even more alive—objects meant to be lived with, not just admired from afar.
While I chose Mugihiko’s ceramics for Yoka, my cousin—who used to be a preschool teacher—was professionally (!) playing with Mugihiko’s daughters. It helped me so much not to worry about little hands breaking any pieces… (haha).
Afterward, Mugihiko took us to a hidden local soba spot. The place was completely empty, adding to the charm, and the handmade soba noodles were absolutely delicious. We enjoyed not just the meal but also the quiet, peaceful atmosphere—it felt like a little secret shared among friends.
This time, Mugihiko joined us for a little tour around Mount Aso. He admitted that even though he’s lived here for many years, he rarely gets the chance to meet other craftspeople in town. “We don’t go out much,” he chuckled. It turned out to be a wonderful opportunity for him to connect—and maybe even start a little creative squad.
Our next stop was the workshop of Mr. Emura, a skilled and humble woodworker. His studio was tucked so deep in the countryside that we first had to wait at an old elementary school until he came to guide us—there are no street signs or house numbers out there!
When we arrived, we were greeted by an overwhelming display of beautifully hand-carved works—each shaped with patience and precision. Mr. Emura is a bit shy and didn’t want his face captured too closely, so we focused on his hands and the pieces themselves.
Among his many creations, I especially loved the twisting-handle shoehorns—simple, strong, and full of character. They’re made from local lumber and feel so warm in the hand. My kids even love using them just to slip on their sneakers.
He had also crafted the coziest little doghouse, complete with insulation and a heated carpet for his pet—such a thoughtful touch. And although I didn’t bring home the adorable Koinobori toy, it definitely made me smile.
At one point, we noticed the largest saw I’d ever seen hanging on the wall, and Mr. Emura even gave us a quick demonstration of how to use it (though I don’t think I’ll ever be cutting down a tree myself).
One of my favorite moments was watching Mugihiko receive a chunky block of wood as a gift from Mr. Emura—an exchange between makers that felt deeply local and heartfelt. I teased him that he might start making more wooden objects than ceramics soon!
As the day wound down, we took a family photo with Mugihiko and his family. Saying goodbye is always bittersweet, but I can’t wait to share his new ceramic works with you soon—each piece carries so much of his spirit.
After leaving, we drove a few hours over the mountains to Beppu, Oita Prefecture—famous for its hot springs. While we weren’t there to soak just yet (another destination awaited the next morning), we ended the evening with a casual dinner hunt.
No reservations, just wandering nostalgic streets and letting the town guide us. We finished the night spotting stray cats along the quiet roads—the perfect ending to another full and beautiful day.
