If you're craving a quiet, meaningful escape from the busy streets of Himeji or Kobe, Takasago Town is a place that deserves your time. I didn’t expect much when I arrived—just another historical area, I thought. But what I found here was a rare and peaceful corner of Japan where history, craftsmanship, and daily life blend so naturally, you almost forget what century you're in. Takasago is not a place designed for tourists. And that’s exactly why I loved it.

Access

Takasago is easy to reach from major cities in Hyogo and Osaka, making it perfect for a relaxing day trip.

●From Himeji: Take the Sanyo Electric Railway from Himeji Station to Takasago Station (about 20 minutes).

●From Kobe: Take the Sanyo Electric Railway from Kobe-Sannomiya Station to Takasago Station (about 50 minutes).

●From Osaka:Take the Sanyo Electric Railway direct service to Sanyo Himeji from Osaka Umeda Station, and you can reach Takasago Station without any transfers in about 1 hour and 20 minutes.

Once you arrive at Takasago Station, the historic district is just a short walk away. No complicated transfers, no buses—you can start exploring almost as soon as you step off the train.

Where Love Stories and Legends Begin: Takasago Shrine

This small port town, officially established in 1601 by Ikeda Terumasa, still follows the same street layout as it did over 400 years ago. Back then, Takasago thrived as a stopover for Kitamaebune cargo ships*, and even now, as you walk the narrow lanes, it feels like the past never really left. But Takasago is not only remembered for its maritime history. It’s also deeply connected to one of Japan’s most famous love stories.

*Kitamaebune….The term for the merchant ships that connected Osaka and Hokkaido via the Sea of Japan, trading goods during the mid- Edo period from the mid-18th century to the 1890s.

Takasago Shrine ties to matchmaking and long-lasting relationships

To start my day, I headed to Takasago Shrine, a peaceful spot known for its strong ties to matchmaking and long-lasting relationships. This is where the town’s name becomes more than just a place—it becomes a symbol.

The entrance toTakasago Shrine

In Japan, the word “Takasago” is not only famous as the name of this historic town, but also as the inspiration behind a symbolic seating arrangement used at weddings, where the elderly couple Jō and Uba (the same figures honored at Takasago Shrine) sit side by side, representing eternal harmony and lasting bonds.

According to legend, the gods Jō and Uba reside in this pine

The shrine is even believed to be the origin of the famous Noh chant “Takasa-go ya~ Kono ura fune ni ho wo agete~”, often performed at weddings across Japan. And once you visit Takasago, it somehow makes perfect sense that such a beautiful tradition would come from here.

Aioi no Matsu, or "Twin Pines of Love"

Deep within the shrine grounds, you’ll find the Aioi no Matsu, or "Twin Pines of Love"—two trunks growing from a single root, said to symbolize the perfect union. According to legend, the gods Jō and Uba, symbols of harmony and longevity, reside in this very tree. And even if you're traveling alone (like I was), this shrine quietly reminds you that meaningful connections—whether with people, places, or traditions—are always worth cherishing.

Strolling Through Edo-Era Streets

Leaving the shrine, I wandered into Takasago’s historic district, where kominka (traditional wooden houses) and old merchant homes still stand just as they did centuries ago.

Manhole art depicting the Aioi no Matsu, discovered while strolling through the streets of the Edo period.

It’s not a polished, overly preserved kind of place. Instead, it feels lived-in. Locals greeted me as they tended to their tiny gardens. Children raced down the narrow streets on their bikes. I wondered how many people walk these streets without realizing the layers of time beneath their feet. Literally, some of the stones used for the pavement are over 300 years old!

Hōheizan Jurin-ji Temple

As I walked, I stumbled across Hōbyosan Jurin-ji Temple (宝瓶山 十輪寺), quietly tucked between the town’s narrow lanes. Founded in 815, this small, peaceful temple has been watching over Takasago for nearly 1200 years. It's not a flashy or crowded place—just a humble temple surrounded by everyday life. I lingered there for a while, enjoying the stillness of the garden, listening to the breeze rustling through the trees, and imagining all the people over the centuries who must have come here seeking the same quiet moment.

The people I met in Takasago were so friendly - a local assistant Abbot even walked me through the temple!

And that’s the magic of Takasago—you don’t need a map or an itinerary. Just start walking, and these quiet, meaningful places find you. The streets are designed in a simple, grid-like pattern, with straight roads crossing at regular intervals. It’s the kind of place where you can just start walking without any plan, and somehow, you’ll always find your way. I didn’t even bother looking at a map the entire day. There was no need.

Retro shotengai (local shopping street)

As I wandered, I passed by a retro public bathhouse (Umegae-yu), quiet shotengai (local shopping street), back alleys lined with carefully tended gardens, and kominka-turned-cafés that invited me in for a slow break.

Tasting Takasago: From Rainy Day Coffee to the Perfect Anago

When my legs began to ache from wandering, I found the perfect place to pause: a small kominka café called Ueda Coffee Roastery (上田珈琲焙煎所), tucked inside one of the town's old wooden homes.

At the Ueda Coffee Roastery

They offer around six carefully selected varieties of coffee beans, each roasted in-house with thoughtful attention to flavor. Their menu names are charming too—like "Ame no Hi Coffee (Rainy Day Coffee)," which felt perfectly suited to the peaceful, introspective mood of the place. And as if the atmosphere wasn’t already perfect, I was greeted by one of the café’s unofficial mascots: an adorable shop cat with soft, fluffy fur!

Before arriving, I had heard that Takasago is famous for anago (saltwater eel), so naturally, I couldn’t leave without trying it. After my coffee break, I made my way to a small, long-established restaurant dating back to 1920 and ordered their specialty, the Anago-Seiro (grilled eel served over rice, steamed with a sweet and savory sauce).

Soramame, long-established restaurant dating back to 1920

The eel was unbelievably soft, glazed with a perfectly balanced sauce that wasn’t too sweet or overpowering. It was simple, traditional, and quietly unforgettable!

Matsuemon Canvas Workshop

One of the highlights of my time in Takasago was joining a workshop at Mikageya, where I created a small item using Matsuemon Canvas—a fabric with a story as rich as the town itself.

Shopping at Mikageya for items using Matsuemon Canvas

Until this trip, I had no idea that Takasago was home to Japan’s oldest canvas, invented back in 1782 by Matsuemon Kuraku. Before his innovation, Japanese ships struggled with sails that tore easily and couldn’t withstand the harsh conditions of sea travel. But Matsuemon changed everything by weaving an incredibly strong canvas from thick Banshu cotton, giving rise to what became known as Matsuemmon Canvas. His creation didn’t just improve sailing—it helped fuel the growth of Japan’s maritime trade and port towns like Takasago.

And centuries later, I was sitting at a small workbench in the same town, choosing from rows of colorful fabrics and learning how to make my own little piece of that history.

Choosing from rows of colorful fabrics to make my own card holder

The process was surprisingly simple but deeply satisfying. I picked out my favorite color, lined up the metal fittings, and gently hammered them into place. In about 10 minutes, I held a handmade canvas pouch in my hands. I decided to use it as a card holder, so I can carry this small reminder of Takasago with me in daily life.

The process was surprisingly simple but deeply satisfying!

A reminder of Takasago I will carry with me in daily life

After finishing the workshop, I was invited to tour the small factory on the first floor, where the canvas is still being woven and transformed into stylish bags, durable accessories, and everyday items.

The small factory on the first floor of the shop

Watching the machines at work, hearing the hum of production, and seeing how the past has been woven into the present reminded me so much of what I experienced at tamaki niime (check out my other article here if you’re curious).

Why You Should Go

Takasago isn’t a place that shouts for your attention. But maybe that’s why I found myself thinking about it long after I left.

And if you're anything like me, you'll leave promising yourself that you'll come back—not to check off tourist spots, but to simply exist for a while in a town where time, craft, and community are still beautifully woven together.