Onomichi's oysters, old temples and Ozu’s Tokyo Story: A Japanese port town few foreign tourists know of
A pilgrimage for film buffs and a place for temple-hopping, the charming Onomichi in Hiroshima Prefecture makes a worthy detour from the island of Miyajima.
Most international tourists heading to Hiroshima from Osaka will catch a bullet train on the Sanyo Shinkansen line, a railway that slices through the rural landscape of the Chugoku region before terminating in Fukuoka in northern Kyushu. The odds are they are visiting Hiroshima for Miyajima, an island in Hiroshima Bay known for its free-roaming deer and the large torii gate that is partially submerged during high tide.
If they were to detour en route, it would likely be for the island of Naoshima (made famous by artist Yayoi Kusama’s giant pumpkin sculpture), which is accessible by ferry from Okayama, one of the shinkansen’s stops.
But just an 80-minute local train ride from Okayama lies another charming destination few foreign visitors are aware of – the small port town of Onomichi.
CYCLING FOR OYSTERS AND HAMBURG STEAK
Located in eastern Hiroshima Prefecture and facing the scattered islands of the Seto Inland Sea, Onomichi has a quiet, relaxed atmosphere. The waterfront, just in front of the train station, is a picture of calm, its stillness broken only by the chug of ferries in the Onomichisuido Strait.
Apart from serving the locals who commute to school and work in the region, the boats also take cyclists to the neighbouring Mukaishima island, where they embark on the Shimanami Kaido, a scenic 60km route that connects, via suspension bridges, six islands in the Seto Inland Sea.
Since the route opened in 1999, the Shimanami Kaido has become something of a must-do for cycling enthusiasts as well as offering an alternative to ferry-hopping across the islands. There are bicycle rental shops in Onomichi for those who don’t want to pack their two-wheeler for the trip.
For foodies, there is no shortage of gourmet treats in Onomichi. The Hondori Shotengai, a 1.6km covered shopping street located east of the station, is lined with mom-and-pop grocery stores, kissaten (old-school coffee shops), ramen joints, and bistros.
While looking for lunch there, I was drawn towards Bistro Takagaki after being tempted by a photo of its hamburg steak on its signboard.
The restaurant was small – no more than 16 seats – with white tablecloths and parquet flooring that lent a neat, cosy vibe. Most of the guests appeared to be regulars. Like any true yoshoku (Japanese-style Western food) restaurant, my juicy hamburg steak was served with a side plate of rice so I could eat it with the meat’s demi-glace sauce.
Bistro Takagaki is run by chef Tsuyoshi Takagaki. After stints in French restaurants in Tokyo, he opened his eponymous bistro in 2010 in Onomichi. He buys most of his ingredients from Eejan Onomichi, a farmers’ market run by a local agricultural cooperative.
Oysters are undoubtedly the region’s seafood speciality. Many eateries serve the plump molluscs cultivated in Hiroshima Prefecture. The waterfront Onomichi Wharf restaurant offers a variety of oyster treats, from a 60-minute tabehodai (“all you can eat”) priced from 2,800 yen (S$25) to oysters paired with tomatoes and garlic. I found their deep-fried breaded oysters to be very addictive.
CANVASSING FOR HISTORY
Many visitors, and not just tired cyclists, choose to spend a night in Onomichi. There is a wide variety of accommodation choices, from luxurious getaways like Ryokan Onomichi Nishiyama to affordable options like the waterfront Green Hill Hotel Onomichi, where you can enjoy breakfast as you gaze at the tranquil Onomichisuido Strait.
The strait was a bustling waterway in its heyday. In 1168, Onomichi was recognised as an official port and served as an important hub for rice shipment over the next 500 years. By the 17th century, the town was a major port of call for kitamaebune or wooden trading ships that sailed around Japan.
After the kitamaebune disappeared with the advent of modern transport, the town’s hanpu or canvas factories that made canvas sails for the ships began repurposing their fabric for work wear and tents, which became vital during World War II. By the 1970s, these factories began dwindling – now only one factory remains.
Today, two hanpu shops, Onomichi Hanpu and Saikobo, are keeping the hanpu tradition alive by making bags and cases from the sturdy canvas. (Onomichi Hanpu’s brand logo is an image of a kitamaebune.) The backpacks are popular among visitors looking for a practical souvenir related to Onomichi’s maritime heritage.
YASUJIRO OZU’S TOKYO STORY
Modern associations with Onomichi have a largely pop culture slant. The town is known as one of the key shooting locations in the 1953 film, Tokyo Story, which is widely regarded as one of the best movies ever made. Directed by the influential Yasujiro Ozu, the film explores generational differences and modernisation in post-war Japan, with Onomichi serving as the hometown of the female protagonist’s parents-in-law.
Onomichi draws cinephiles like me who want to revisit scenes from Tokyo Story. Naturally, the town has changed drastically since the film’s release 70 years ago, but some key landmarks still remain.
Onomichi’s tourism planners are aware of the town’s special relationship with Ozu’s magnum opus: On a promenade wall east of the Fukumoto ferry pier, a metal signboard displays information on the movie in English and Japanese, as well as a QR code that, when scanned, will show you six shooting locations from the film on your Google Map. I spent an entire morning tracing this Tokyo Story trail, bridging Ozu’s black and white world with the present.
My first stop was the small, waterfront Sumiyoshi shrine, where its stone lantern was shown in the opening scene of the movie. I then walked north-eastwards towards the hills, arrived at a few vantage points seen in the film, and ended my walk at Jodo-ji temple, where some of the movie’s key scenes involving a funeral were shot. It was fun comparing what I saw with screenshots of the movie on my phone; I tried picturing where Ozu might have placed his camera (the director was a master of the static shot).
In an email interview, Hideki Ono, Onomichi City Hall’s section chief of cultural promotion, said the town held a tour of the Tokyo Story trail and a screening of the movie at the local cinema on Dec 9 last year to commemorate the 120th anniversary of Ozu’s birth.
“I think Jodo-ji is the most important spot [in the movie trail],” he added. “It was where they filmed in public, and the place was also depicted in the movie’s poster.”
EXPLORING TEMPLE TRAILS
Jodo-ji, which features a pagoda, is also one of the 25 temples in Onomichi’s renowned temple walk, a route that takes you across the hilly town. Don’t try to visit all 25 temples in a day (you may get temple burnout, too); it’s best to skip some or stop by those that catch your fancy. Most people start the temple walk at Jiko-ji temple near the station before navigating some steep stairs and ending at Senko-ji, a temple perched near the top of the 144m-tall Mt Senkoji.
Founded in 806 by Buddhist monk Kobo Daishi, the temple is for known its large rocks that line its approach, and a red hall that resembles a stage. The uphill route should be easy for the able-bodied. There is a ropeway that brings you to the peak of Mt Senko-ji but taking this option would really mean you miss an atmospheric walk.
Walking through narrow lanes between old houses with tiled roofs, I came across peaceful cemeteries, tiny cafes in street corners, and quirky shops selling cat souvenirs (the town has many feline creatures; there’s even a “cat alley”). An elderly resident greeted me as she descended carefully on a steep flight of stairs.
The peak of Mt Senkoji also has an observation platform that offers a panoramic view over the town and the strait. The scenery is particularly beautiful at sunset – the silhouettes of the islands in the Seto Island Sea stand out against the glow of the sky. When the sun dips behind the mountains, the town becomes monochromatic, raising the ghost of Ozu; his imagery lingers for a surreal moment before it fades to black.