Wanderlust & Green Tea #001
A series of travel journals exploring the world through a family-friendly lens—travel, culture, and meaningful experiences at home and abroad.
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We didn’t plan a huge adventure or conjure up a strict itinerary — just a quiet stop in Toyama to visit family.
My husband grew up here, in the peaceful countryside just outside the city — tucked between rice fields and watched over by the ever-stoic Japanese Alps.
He has this hilarious childhood story I’ll never forget: one day, walking home from school, he had a little... emergency. Total kid panic. So what did he do? Took off his pants and flung them into a rice field. Problem solved. (I try not to think about which field. We eat the rice now.)
There are thick photo albums in his childhood room, filled with snapshots of his younger self — missing teeth, sunburned cheeks, always barefoot with some kind of injury from the playground. His family didn’t have much for a while; there were tough years, lean seasons. But his parents pushed through with determination, building a quiet, stable life in this slow and steady place. You can still feel that resilience in the walls of their home and in the way they show up for each other.
And every time we visit, something inside me exhales. The air feels cooler, like it’s been filtered through stillness. The pace slows. The land — framed by mountain ridges and dotted with roadside veggie stands and tiny shrines — seems to whisper reminders I didn’t know I needed.
It’s like the land itself has boundaries. Tokyo energy? Not welcome here.
I can feel the nostalgia settle into my husband’s shoulders the minute we arrive. He walks differently here — less hunched, more grounded. The contrast to Tokyo’s relentless pace is immediate. Even the convenience store workers move like they have all the time in the world. It’s oddly contagious.
The first time I came to Toyama was when we were newly engaged — a full “meet the parents” moment. I remember the snow. So much snow. And the way the mountains hugged the town in this quiet, protective way. I also remember being completely lost in conversation. The Toyama dialect is its own beast. Even now, years later, I still find myself smiling and nodding through half the dinner table chats, just hoping I’m agreeing to the right things.
(And if you think I’m exaggerating — just try making sense of the Tsugaru dialect from Aomori prefecture. Even most Japanese people can’t crack that code. I used to live there but that’s for another story.)
There were plenty of times we visited Toyama before having our daughter— meeting the parents, building our first snowman together, visiting places outside of, but near Toyama, and so many more memories, discoveries, and experiences. Here are some of my favorite videos posted on my now abandoned channel. Let’s have a little look at the archives.
Here’s a more recent Toyama vlog 📷 from the archives—when we
brought our baby for the first time
Meeting the Parents for the First Time
We were a newly engaged couple experiencing life together in Japan. It had been nearly 10 years since my husband last lived in his home country, while I had been living in Japan for almost a decade. This is a sentimental video filled with Toyama moments and heartfelt reflections. {watch here}
Part Two: Meeting the Parents
This is part two of our journey meeting the parents. We spent a lovely New Year together, and the food was incredible! I was so nervous, but they welcomed me with open arms. In this video, I share more about my first visit to Toyama. {watch here}
Our Second Visit to Toyama (Before Kids)
This was our second visit to Toyama, before we had kids. As we explored the beautiful prefecture, I found myself reflecting on our life together as an international couple. {watch here}
Toyama is breathtaking, but make no mistake — it’s countryside. You need a car. You’ll see mountains and rice paddies for miles. But when you venture into Japan’s countryside, something subtle shifts inside you. It’s like stepping into a Ghibli film where the wind has a personality and the trees are keeping secrets. The history, the culture, the feeling of Japan — it’s all magnified out here, in the best way.
Even with a toddler, we chase moments like these — quiet, unhurried, non-touristy adventures. And strangely enough, our daughter responds to it too. There’s a softness in her energy when we’re here. She slows down without being asked. We all do.
Will we ever move to the countryside of Japan? Probably not. Most people don’t because jobs are scarce but you better believe we will when we’re old and retired!
I’ve also found myself quietly inspired by my mother-in-law during these visits. There’s a deep sense of pride in how she shows up as a mother — even now, with grown kids. She moves through routines with such care. Not performative. Not for anyone else’s approval. Just devotion. There’s something beautiful about that. (I’ll write more about this in a future post.
And with the in-laws, you get the full, authentic experience.
Sleeping on tatami mats that still creak in the same spot.
Waking to the low heat and hum of the gas stove and the scent of miso soup bubbling at 6 a.m. (I’m convinced she’s a sorceress — I’ll never know how she does it).
The chime of wind bells dancing on the patio.
The actual sound of the breeze threading through the mountains.
Spacious greenery, hidden shrines tucked between trees, roadside flower shops with exact-change bowls out front.
No pets, just us humans.
One of our favorite things to do — especially in winter — is take slow walks along the snowy paths by the rice fields. Did you know snow has a smell? It does. And here in Toyama, it mixes with the faint scent of temple incense in the air. It’s quiet. Clean. Almost holy. A real zen experience.
The snow gets so thick you can’t even see the rice fields — it all just becomes one endless, white blanket. Step off the path even a little, and you're guaranteed to drop straight into a rice ditch. Save this in your Note’s app if you plan on coming to Japan and thank me later.
This place recharges me. All of us. And it reminds me that travel doesn’t always need to be big or bold. Sometimes, it’s better when it’s not. If you’re ever in Japan, or planning a trip, I’d gently nudge you to carve out time for places like this — quiet pockets of peace, away from the tourist maps. Places with no plan. Just presence.
It’s the kind of place that doesn’t just look peaceful — it feels like it rewires you. I swear my nervous system calms the f- down the moment we step off the train. (I swear, it doesn’t listen unless I force it into nature). The countryside in Japan has a way of reminding you what slowness actually feels like. There’s no rush, no pressure to optimize or produce. Just stillness, and the quiet rhythm of everyday life.
And the wild thing is — it’s not just a feeling. Science backs it up. Time in nature, especially in places with minimal sensory input like forests, mountains, or even quiet snowfall, can regulate your nervous system, reduce cortisol levels, and bring you back to center. Japan even has a term for this: Shinrin-yoku, or forest bathing. It’s a simple practice of being in nature, not to hike or conquer it — just to be.
Even if you’re not in Japan, you can create your own version of this. Seek out the “small still” in your life — a park, a walking path, a quiet corner of your home with a candle and a window view. Let yourself be somewhere without noise, without scrolling, without expectations. Breathe. Listen. Let the world soften around you.
We don’t always need a big reset — just these tiny pauses that feel like countryside for the soul.
For a place that often flies under the radar, Toyama quietly made waves when it was named one of the “52 Places to Visit” by The New York Times.
And once you’ve been here, it’s easy to see why. It’s not flashy. It’s not loud. But it offers something deeper — an invitation to slow down and observe.
There’s a deep-rooted sense of care here — in how people greet one another, in how seasonal vegetables are arranged on a neighbor’s roadside stand, in the way everyone seems to know each other’s rhythms. Toyama isn’t just about sights, it’s about sensibility.
One thing I’ve come to love is the regional concept of meibutsu — local specialties. In Toyama, that might mean impossibly fresh sashimi, delicate glassware (Toyama is known for its glass art), or a handmade wagashi sweet that tastes like spring. Meibutsu are more than souvenirs — they’re expressions of place, of craft, and of quiet pride.
Even the accent here feels distinct — softer, a little slower, kind of sing-songy. I still don’t understand some of what’s being said when we’re out and about or chatting with older folks, but somehow, the warmth always gets through.
Before we dive into places to visit, it’s worth knowing that Toyama isn’t just another quiet countryside town — it has roots that run deep. Historically a castle town, Toyama flourished during the Edo period as a hub for traditional medicine. In fact, it was known as the “pharmacy of Japan.” Merchants here once traveled the country selling herbal remedies in charming little pill boxes — and that legacy lives on today. My husband always jokes that you can’t walk five minutes in Toyama without spotting a pharmacy, and it’s true — they’re everywhere. It’s just one of those little local quirks that makes this place feel so uniquely itself.
So while it may feel peaceful and slow-paced now, Toyama has centuries of trade, craftsmanship, and quiet resilience in its bones — you can feel it in the way the town holds onto tradition without needing to show off.
But let’s say you’re not just here to soak in the countryside vibes and sip miso soup at sunrise (though honestly, 10/10 recommend). Maybe you’re curious about what there actually is to do in Toyama — beyond the beauty of slowness and the scent of snow.
Whether you’re traveling with kids, craving nature, or just looking to explore a less-touristy slice of Japan, Toyama has a quiet magic that reveals itself little by little. You don’t need a packed itinerary here — just a willingness to wander, linger, and look a little closer.
Here are a few of our favorite places to visit when we’re in town — the kind of spots that make you forget about time, breathe a little deeper, and maybe even whisper, “is this real?”
If you’re visiting Toyama and craving a taste of Japan’s storybook countryside, Shirakawa-go should be at the top of your list. Tucked away in the mountains of Gifu Prefecture, just about an hour to 90 minutes from Toyama by car or bus, this charming village feels like something out of a Ghibli film.
Shirakawa-go is best known for its gassho-zukuri farmhouses—traditional wooden homes with steep thatched roofs, built to withstand the region’s heavy snowfall. The name gassho means “hands in prayer,” a nod to the roof’s shape, and stepping into this village is like walking into a quiet world where time has slowed down.
Whether you visit in winter when the rooftops are covered in snow like powdered sugar, or in the spring when everything is lush and green, Shirakawa-go offers a kind of calm magic you don’t find just anywhere. You can explore the village on foot, pop into small museums or local snack shops, and take in sweeping views from the nearby observation point.
It’s an easy and unforgettable day trip from Toyama—and a refreshing contrast to city sights. If you're looking to experience Japan’s rural heart, Shirakawa-go is as dreamy as it gets.
Before We Head Back to the City…
Every time we leave Toyama, I feel like I’m peeling myself away from a beautiful dream. There’s something about this place — its quiet strength, its gentle pace, its deep-rooted pride in small, everyday moments — that sticks with you. It reminds me of what matters: connection, stillness, family, good food, and the magic of doing nothing in a place that feels like everything.
Whether you're planning a trip to Japan, or just seeking more slowness in your own everyday life, I hope this little glimpse into Toyama inspires you to look for beauty in the quiet corners — the kind that doesn’t ask for attention but deserves it anyway.
If you’d like a Google Maps list of all the places I mentioned here, click this link! I will be adding more kid-friendly spaces and locations - a growing list of travel magic.
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