Most international visitors to Japan never make it to Shirakawa-go. That’s a mistake | Canada Voices

I came to Shirakawa-go because it was striking but left with a deep appreciation for life in the Japanese countryside.

I am huffing and puffing up a hill in Gifu, Japan, with seven kilograms of camera gear and a fading sense of my own fitness. The climb isn’t excessively steep, but it is persistent – the kind of physical tax one pays for a legendary view. Then, the tree line breaks. The sight of more than a hundred A-frame houses and farmland, surrounded by a ring of colourful fall foliage and mountains, literally takes my breath away.

I’ll admit, I followed the Instagram algorithm to the UNESCO World Heritage site, thanks to a post I bookmarked before I first set foot in Japan years ago. My motivation for accepting an invitation to visit was simple: kouyougari, the Japanese tradition of “hunting for red leaves.” But standing at the lookout, it becomes clear that if aesthetics were my only target, any season would do; Shirakawa-go, it seems, does not have an unphotogenic side.

Despite breathless Western bloggers calling Shirakawa-go a hidden gem, the village is a premier nature getaway for domestic travellers. Is the UNESCO-listed village still idyllic? Absolutely. Tourist free? Not so much. Road trips through the Gifu prefecture, both to appreciate Japanese crafts such as knife and papermaking and enjoy country living, are a well-established practice, with Shirakawa-go as a prominent tour stop. Non-Japanese visitors don’t visit in the same numbers — the Japan National Tourism Organization estimates that 80 per cent of international visitors never venture beyond Tokyo, Kyoto and Osaka.

On Japanese art islands Teshima and Naoshima, I felt the magnetic pull of both human and natural beauty

But as I walked along the main thoroughfare of Shirakawa-go Kaido on a warm afternoon, enjoying the fresh mountain air and hearing snippets of Japanese, I couldn’t help but think: eh, their loss.

Gassho-zukuri, the “folded hands” style of A-frame housing, has become Shirakawa-go’s visual signature. Established in the 1700s and refined through the 1800s, these steep thatched roofs were designed to withstand heavy snow. But the real surprise is the scale. These aren’t quaint cottages, they’re industrial-sized hubs built to house large-scale silkworm cultivation, gunpowder nitrate production and the families who ran them.

Today, a large number of the houses have been converted into shops and restaurants to support the two-million visitors the village receives every year. I bought a Sarubobo charm, the faceless, pointy-limbed baby monkey that serves as Shirakawa-go’s mascot, in one. In another shop, I stopped to sip nigori, a creamy unfiltered sake that has become a signature sign of hospitality in the Gifu region.

Kyushu, Japan, is an island that’s long engaged with foreigners – and still wants tourists, too

Several houses have also been repurposed as living monuments and shrines. I slip off my shoes and enter the Wada House for a deeper glimpse into the village during the Edo period, which dates back to the 1600s. As the largest residence in the village and a designated Important Cultural Property, it offers a rare hybrid of private home and public museum. The Wada family once served as village heads, commanding the local trade in silk and gunpowder. But now, between 9 a.m. and 5 p.m. daily, visitors can explore the second and third floors (admission: roughly $3 for adults). During the summer months the vast attics are used for silkworm-breeding demonstrations. But during my visit, the space is filled with farming equipment, visible from the light filtering in through a few small windows.

It’s there, among the shadowy piles of buckets, ropes and sharp gardening implements seemingly designed to intimidate a city girl, that our guide introduced us to the word satoyama. It translates to “village mountain,” but the meaning is much deeper. While the gassho-zukuri houses are spectacular pieces of engineering, the entirety of Shirakawa-go acts as a border zone between mountain foothills and flatlands. It isn’t untouched wilderness but rather a balance of rice paddies, irrigation, grasslands and mountainous flora and fauna that require care to remain diverse.

In other words, the aesthetics I’d admired from the top of the hill weren’t just functional; they were foundational. While I originally came chasing photos of autumn leaves, I left with a deeper appreciation for the irony: I had travelled all that way for a snapshot, but found proof of balance between the human-made and natural worlds. Even if it did take a sweaty hike up a hill to really see the full picture.

If you go

The village of Shirakawa-go is a long, tiring day trip from Kyoto. Instead, align yourself with the relaxed spirit of the region and start with a night or two in Takayama. To get there, take the Shinkansen train to Nagoya and then transfer to the Hida Limited Express to Takayama. Alternatively there’s a once-a-day Hida line train that runs directly from Kyoto. (Book ahead as seating is limited.)

Stay at the Fairfield by Marriott Gifu Takayama Shokawa for quick access to the Ouka no Yu hot spring baths (where guests receive a discount), or bed down at one the area’s many ryokans (a Japanese bed and breakfast) for a more traditional experience. It’s difficult to find a better snacking experience than a walk through Miyagawa Morning Market, where vendors have been setting up shop for more than 300 years.

When you’re ready to visit Shirakawa-go, it’s a 50-minute bus ride from Takayama. Tickets can be booked via Nohi Bus or Kaetsunou Bus. Catch them in front of the JR Takayama Station.

Museums within Shirakawa-go are open from 8 a.m. to 5 p.m. Booking an overnight stay at one of the farm houses,8,000 to 20,000 yen ($70 to $170 a person), will allow you the luxury of an early morning without the bulk of visitors who arrive only as day-trippers. Reservations often fill up three to six months in advance.

The writer’s hotel stay in Takayama was covered by Marriott, which did not review or approve this article. The Globe does not guarantee coverage.