Escaping to the mountains of Nagano

I consider myself so lucky that I have a great group of friends to travel with, and especially in the summer, we like to organize trips over long weekends to get away from the city and completely unplug. A couple weeks ago, we went to my friend’s family vacation home in the Kiso Valley in western Nagano prefecture. I had just finished a two week long pop-up shop for my brand in Tokyo and I was ready to take a well deserved break. It was a beautiful weekend filled with laughter and surrounded by beautiful lush nature.

Although the drive should have only taken about 3 hours, because it was a long weekend and traffic was heavy, we didn’t arrive until nearly 8 hours after I had left my apartment in the morning. When we finally arrived though, I wasn’t disappointed. The house was tucked away in the mountains surrounded by forest, and it was completely quiet. We arrived right as the sun was setting, and the sky had a beautiful glow that cast a beautiful warm hue on the surroundings.

The house itself was also beautiful. It was originally built by my friend’s grandfather and was later renovated by her father and now used as a vacation home shared amongst their relatives. You can tell great care went into the design of the house which felt simple and modern, but warm and inviting. Kiso Valley is known for its hinoki (Japanese cypress) production, and the house was a great example of beautiful wooden interiors. My favorite part was the deep hinoki bath that envelops you in its beautiful natural scent while bathing.

It being the tail-end of summer, the weather was still hot and humid, but being up in the mountains, Kiso was much cooler and comfortable. Our first morning, we went to visit Naraijuku, an Edo-era post town along the main route taken from Tokyo to Kyoto during the time. The town is beautifully preserved with its original charm with dark wooden buildings flanking the main road. The area is known for traditional Japanese wooden lacquer ware, and many shops were selling the traditional crafts. It was raining on and off while we walked around the little town, and it felt so fresh and atmospheric.

After having lunch in the town, we made our way to Nezame, a beautiful ravine flanked by rocks and cliffs with a small shrine at the very top. We were able to climb down to the rock formations and climb around, taking in the view from different vantage points. Having worked up a bit of a sweat climbing over the rocks, it would have been a perfect spot for a cool dip, but unfortunately swimming is prohibited. When I visit natural spots like this that were formed by the elements over thousands of years, I’m reminded of the span of time, and the great power nature has to transform things little by little, or all at once.

Getting outside of the city and spending time in nature, especially in the countryside of Japan, I feel like I get to truly refresh my mind and my spirit. The pace of life is much slower, and there’s no sense of urgency or the little stressors that we accept as part of daily life in a big city. There’s also a charm that can only be felt in these little towns, where it seems as if time has frozen, and the local people warmly greet you and welcome you into their lives, even if only for a short moment. Sadly, with population decline, places like these are slowly dying out, and only areas with a tourist draw are surviving. It makes me feel even luckier that I am able to experience it as it is now.

At my friend’s home in which we were staying for the weekend, there is a large round table in the dining room that we would gather around at different times in the day, sharing meals, planning the day, or sitting quietly together while we each work on our own activities. At night, after sharing a meal that we would all contribute to in some way, we would play games and talk. These are the moments that make trips like these truly special. As adults, the amount of time we can contribute to friendships inevitably gets chipped away, with jobs, partners, the prospect of children, and other family responsibilities ultimately taking up our attention. So when I have this time with my friends where we’re able to really connect, spend quality time with each other, continue to learn more about each other, share stories of our lives before we met, and talk about the future, I really cherish it. Growing up, I was always lucky to have a really good group of friends, and it is to them I owe a great deal of my happiness in life.

As Nagano is famous for soba (buckwheat noodles), we decided to participate in a soba-making class one day. From watching many cooking shows, the way in which it is made doesn’t differ too much from how the Italians make pasta, aside from the kind of wheat used, and some other ingredients. The class was lead by a tiny old Japanese woman who has undoubtably been making soba by hand for decades, probably as her ancestors did, and it was such a beautiful experience to learn the techniques from her. She made it look effortless as her small, withered hands handled the dough, gracefully rolling it out as flat as a sheet of paper, over and over. When I tried my own hand at it, I tore the dough and got it tangled up around the rolling pin. When it came time to cut the dough into noodles, my perfectionist side kicked in, and I was concentrating so hard that I ended up pushing too hard, making all the dough stick together. In the end, the kind old woman helped me correct my mistakes, and in the end we ended up with something resembling noodles. The best part of the class was when it was over and we could eat the soba we had just painstakingly made by hand. It was a beautiful, sunny day and we ate outside under a tent, with meadows and forest as far as the eye could see. It was a truly perfect summer day.

Later that afternoon, with the threat of the weather turning on us for the worse, we hurried to another local area that was famous for a long ravine that featured many waterfalls and rapids. Although it was gray and raining slightly, it was nice enough that we could bike up along the ravine through the forest towards the waterfalls. The air was fresh and brisk, and felt amazing with the natural scent of the forest wafting by as we biked. Every turn offered up even more beautiful views of crystal clear water flowing over volcanic rocks that had been formed over centuries. Once we got to one of the highest points, we got off the bikes and walked down to the rivers edge to feel the crisp water. Although it was still mid-September, the water was freezing cold. A few of us stripped down to our underwear and jumped in for a refreshing dip. After we continued on, there was a footpath through the woods that went up to the largest waterfall, and we braved the steep climb and slippery rocks. There’s something sacred and other-worldly about waterfalls, like they could be portals to another reality or another realm. As the sun was beginning to set, we took one final look at the waterfall before we set back down the path onto enjoy our last night in Nagano.

After stopping for dinner at a local yakiniku restaurant, we arrived home to relax and enjoy each other’s company one last night before we had to leave the next morning. As is customary during summer in Japan, we bought a huge pack of fireworks and sparklers, and set them off in the front yard, bringing back memories of my childhood when I would visit my grandparents in Japan during the summers. What is it about fire and light that excites us? It’s as if it satisfies some primal desire from our hunter gatherer days that has stowed away in our DNA. We had another fun night filled with laughter and conversation.

The last morning after cleaning up the house and getting our luggage loaded up in the car, we went to visit my friend’s grandmother who lived nearby. It was such a special experience, knowing my friend only a short couple of years, to meet her grandmother and share this special moment together. We can learn so much about people by meeting their family members, and it shows so much of how they formed as people. Her grandmother was so warm and welcoming, and sent us on our way with some fresh local corn that she had gotten for us earlier that day. As we said goodbye to her, we all had a moment of recognizing the fleeting nature of time, and recognizing the importance of cherishing the moments we have with the ones we love, because we don’t know how much longer they, or we will be around. But that’s what makes life beautiful.