Hello! This is Tom.
Sometimes, I find myself craving a journey that isn’t about hitting the highlights. That’s exactly how I ended up choosing Akita.
In early May, while Tokyo was already wrapped in summer-like warmth, cherry blossoms were still in full bloom up north in Akita. That said, the wind had a biting chill, and I found myself shivering more than once. I’d definitely recommend packing for the cold if you’re planning a trip around this time.
When I used to think of Akita, I imagined postcard-worthy autumn foliage and brisk air. But walking its streets, I found something much more—deep human warmth and everyday charm.
This is a record of my time wandering through Akita, soaking in those quiet pleasures.
- A Sweet Start with Baba-Hera Ice Cream in Senshu Park
- A Heartwarming Local Lunch at Mugendo
- Festival Vibes at the Neburi Nagashi Museum
- Strolling Through History: Retro Architecture and Living Memories
- Cheers to Serendipity: A Craft Beer Encounter at the Station
- A Missed Meeting and a Warm Goodbye
- Winding Down with Hotpot and Hospitality
- Final Thoughts: A Chill in the Air, Warmth in the Heart
A Sweet Start with Baba-Hera Ice Cream in Senshu Park
As soon as I arrived at Akita Station, what struck me first was the stunning architecture. A modern, gallery-like design harmonized with warm wooden textures—it felt more like a cultural space than a train station.
Unlike the tired look of many regional stations, Akita’s felt polished and fresh. “Wow, I wasn’t expecting this kind of style here,” I thought, pleasantly surprised.
Outside, cold air greeted me along with a canopy of full-bloom cherry blossoms. I had just stepped out of the station, yet the air already whispered, “This trip is going to be special.”
Fueled by that excitement, I made my way to Senshu Park, just a few minutes’ walk away. The soft morning light, the tranquil paths, the lingering petals—all made for a perfect start.
At the park entrance, I spotted an elderly lady selling the famous “Baba-Hera Ice Cream.” Shaped like a rose in pink and yellow, it brought an instant smile to my face.
One bite was enough to transport me—it had a gentle sweetness that tasted like spring itself. With the ice cream in hand, I wandered the park slowly, savoring both the flavor and the atmosphere.
I made a brief stop at Akita Shrine nestled within the park and offered a small prayer for a safe and joyful trip. Sunlight filtered through the trees, warming my back. And just like that, the trip had officially begun.
A Heartwarming Local Lunch at Mugendo
After a peaceful morning stroll, my appetite led me to Mugendo, a beloved local restaurant just a short walk away.
From the outside, it had a calming traditional aesthetic, and stepping inside, the high ceilings and wooden decor created an elegant, open atmosphere.
I went for their lunch set—an assortment of Akita’s signature dishes served in small, artfully arranged portions. It was one of those moments when the tray arrives and you can’t help but whisper, “Wow.”
On the menu: gibasa seaweed with ponzu, simmered Akita beef tendon, shrimp and vegetable tempura, hatahata (sandfish) sushi, smoked iburigakko pickles with cheese, Inaniwa udon noodles, and my personal favorite—tonburi with grated yam.
Each item, though served in modest portions, stood out in flavor and presentation, giving me a sense of Akita’s seasonal palette.
The tonburi and yam stole my heart. The popping texture of the tonburi (sometimes called “land caviar”) and the smoothness of the yam was such a fun combination.
The Inaniwa udon was silky yet firm, and the broth—delicate and balanced—was the perfect companion. The beef tendon had been slow-cooked to tender perfection with a slightly sweet-savory glaze.
The tempura was light and crisp, and the pickles and cheese brought a smoky richness that made me think, “I could use a sake right now.”
By the end, I felt full not just in my stomach but in spirit. It was one of those lunches that quietly whispers, “You’re exactly where you need to be.”
Festival Vibes at the Neburi Nagashi Museum
In the afternoon, I headed to the Neburi Nagashi Museum, dedicated to Akita’s vibrant summer celebration: the Kanto Festival.
The moment I stepped in, I was greeted by towering poles lined with glowing lanterns and colorful decorations. The scale alone was breathtaking.
One of the hands-on exhibits lets visitors try their hand at drumming along to rhythms on a large taiko drum. Simple as it was, I got pretty into it—and found myself working up a little sweat.
But the real showstopper was the live Kanto performance. Watching performers balance lantern poles—some nearly 10 meters high—on their heads, shoulders, or hips, was nothing short of awe-inspiring.
Each moment was filled with tension and grace. The lanterns swayed like living creatures, and the performers’ core strength was clearly on display.
It wasn’t just a show. It was a showcase of pride, tradition, and skill passed down through generations. When the demonstration ended, a wave of genuine applause filled the room.
There was also a section where visitors could lift scaled-down versions of the poles themselves. Thinking it’d be a breeze, I picked one up—only to find it surprisingly heavy!
The flex of the pole and its awkward center of gravity made it tough to balance. I stumbled and laughed at myself. The museum displayed versions used by children, teens, and adults—all increasing in height and weight.
Even the smallest version had some heft, and trying to imagine controlling the full-sized ones only deepened my respect.
It’s one thing to watch the pros make it look easy; it’s another to feel the effort with your own arms. I left with a newfound appreciation for the art and athleticism of this remarkable tradition.
Strolling Through History: Retro Architecture and Living Memories
Still feeling the energy of the festival, I made my way to the former Kaneko Family Residence—a stately wooden home once belonging to a prosperous merchant family from the Meiji era.
The black-lacquered fence and serene architecture already hinted at its quiet dignity. Stepping inside, the scent of tatami and the creaking floorboards created the illusion that time had rewound a century.
Every room held its own story, with well-preserved furnishings, old calligraphy, and a courtyard visible through sliding doors.
What truly brought the space to life, though, was the soft recording of historical reenactments echoing gently through the rooms. Phrases like “Welcome, sir” or “Right this way to your goods” floated faintly through the air, reenacting conversations that might have taken place between the merchant and his customers.
I paused, listening. I imagined the hustle of trade, the care in hospitality, and the simple rhythm of daily commerce in a bygone time. It made the space feel less like a museum, and more like a home still echoing with memory.
Afterward, I walked a few minutes to the Akita Red Brick Local Museum, formerly the Akita Bank Main Branch.
Its striking red brick facade rose proudly from the corner, a living monument to the region’s Meiji-era ambition and craftsmanship.
Inside, vintage telephones, ledgers, and heavy iron safes told the story of Akita’s financial past. Each object carried the weight of time and trust.
This wasn’t just a bank. It was a pillar of community, holding together the town’s economic and social life for generations. Even now, it quietly welcomes visitors with a grace that speaks volumes.
More than nostalgia, it offered an encounter with the quieter side of Akita—humble, enduring, and deeply human.
Cheers to Serendipity: A Craft Beer Encounter at the Station
Leaving the museum, I strolled back toward Akita Station—and found myself in the middle of an unexpected celebration. A craft beer event hosted by local breweries was in full swing, with music, booths, and the happy buzz of glasses clinking.
Naturally, I joined in. I ordered a citrusy pale ale from Akita’s own Akrabeer and took the first sip. The freshness of the hops, the clean finish—it was the kind of beer that made the breeze feel even better on your face.
The vendor, a cheerful and talkative guy, shared stories about the brewing process, the water that defines Akita’s flavor, and how the local scene has grown in recent years.
Before I knew it, we were laughing, swapping travel stories, and chatting with other people standing nearby. It wasn’t just a tasting. It was a moment of connection.
Travel often brings you face-to-face with history or beauty, but these kinds of casual, human interactions—those are the true treasures.
A Missed Meeting and a Warm Goodbye
Later in the afternoon, I made a quick detour to the Akita Dog Station, hoping to meet one of the famous Akita dogs.
Unfortunately, the sign on the door read “Rest Day.” No dogs today.
A bit disappointed, I was about to leave when a friendly staff member struck up a conversation. We talked about the dogs, the weather, and—of course—food. It was another unexpected but heartwarming moment.
These small encounters are what make a place linger in your heart.
Winding Down with Hotpot and Hospitality
As the sun dipped low, I headed to Akita Nagaya Sakaba for dinner—a retro-style izakaya known for warm service and hearty food.
Stepping inside was like entering a theatrical set: lanterns, vintage tools, wooden beams, and a cheerful chorus of “Welcome!”
I hadn’t made a reservation, but arriving early worked in my favor. Soon after, a steady stream of walk-ins were politely turned away—this place fills up fast.
I ordered the kiritanpo hotpot, the star of Akita cuisine. Toasted rice sticks soaking up chicken broth, vegetables cooked just right—it was soothing, savory, and soul-warming.
I paired it with a few side dishes: crispy karaage (fried Hinai chicken) and smooth, slippery junsai (watershield).
To drink, I chose two local sake brands—Yuri Masamune and Dewatsuru. Both had elegant aromas and clean finishes that complemented the food perfectly.
When it came time to leave, there was a final surprise. A warm hand towel, a small packet of local rice crackers, and a rhythmic clap with wooden blocks as they sent me off with a blessing for my happiness.
I walked out into the night, slightly tipsy and deeply content.
Final Thoughts: A Chill in the Air, Warmth in the Heart
Akita is a place where nature, culture, and kindness quietly intertwine.
From cherry blossoms and taiko drums to lanterns, dogs, and local beer—each moment whispered something soft but lasting.
It’s not flashy, and it doesn’t try to be. But that’s exactly why it stays with you.
If you’re looking for a gentle kind of trip that leaves you feeling grounded, May in Akita might just be perfect.
Next time, I’ll be sure to meet the dogs. Until then—see you on the next journey!
