I get asked all the time if it’s a good idea to travel to Japan in winter: what they realy mean is will it still be Japan without the cherry blossoms and with the temples cold? Twice now I have been there during the December-to-January period, and frankly it’s one of my favourite times to go. It isn’t the Japan from the postcards; and that’s just why it works.
The catch is this: Winter in Japan just tries to be itself. It’s cold. It gets busy here and there.
It gets quiet here and there. It has a rhythm all its own, which surprise me the first time. Here’s what it’s realy like.
What It Is Really Like to Visit Japan in Winter
The Cold Hits Different
The cold changed how each day felt. And I was not ready for it. No, this isn’t just a matter of putting on a jacket, this is a matter of planning out your entire day with warmth in mind.
There was nothing better then finding a convenience store and diving inside just to warm up my fingers. A steaming bowl of whatever was a huge accomplishment. The mornings sucked…particularly when we had an early morning start.
But I learned fast, and layering were more important than I expected. I learned the appeal of soaking in a hot spring firsthand when we visited the snow monkeys one freezing morning, and watched them soak in their hot springs. They was just as I was: desperate to get warm, and perfectly happy after doing so.
There they were, sitting in steamy water and being smug about it, while we took photos from outside in the cold.
And I didn’t blame them at all. I didn’t anticipate how much snow would become part of everyday life. It wouldn’t snow everywhere, and not on every day.
But when it did appear, it transform things.
Winter Comes With Its Own Aesthetic
In a tiny village beneath fresh snow, all you could hear was the crunch as you walked. Every roof edge had icicles hanging from them. It made us slow down…and that was a good thing.
But what I had never seen before were the structures made with ropes (known as yukitsuri) that they string across trees to support their branches from the weight of snow. Seeing these (particularly on old pines framing ponds) change everything about how the gardens looked in winter. There was no more autumn color and no flowers.
It was just stark, intentional, and careful. I stood looking at frozen water and bare branch longer than I imagined I’d want to. And it taught me something: winter gardens don’t do anything for you.
Either you like the quiet and appreciate the plants that are still there…or you don’t. I did. More than I imagined I would.
The Christmas Lights Are Everywhere
Christmas lights in Japan is done to the same level as all things Japan: big. And it was bigger then I expected. In Osaka we stumbled upon these huge light displays that felt less like decorating and more like a theme park.
There were giant glowing tree, whole archways wrapped in lights, and an artificial snowfall timed to go off every so many seconds. It’s not traditional or subtle. But then again, neither am I, and I won’t lie, I got caught up in it.
On the weekends, it was crowded (as you can imagine).
Christmas Markets With a Japanese Spin
There were people everywhere, all wrapped up, shuffling slowly through the illuminations. Couples and families posed for pictures, and everybody were festive. And while it wasn’t like my idea of Christmas at all, it still worked.
And then there was the afternoon we happened upon an indoor ski slope; surreal in the heart of a city.
People was skiing in loops on a narrow strip of artificial snow, and the entire thing was controlled and contained. The kind of thing that only makes sense in Japan, why go to the mountains when you can ski in a mall?
In Japan they’ve taken the European Christmas market format, stuffed it with their own stuff, and called it good. In Kobe we visited one where, yes, there were stalls selling mulled wine and sausages, but also yakitori and takoyaki and steamed buns.
New Year Shifts the Energy Completely
It was crammed full of people, sprawled out across a hillside, and the combination of smells (sweet), spicy, smoky, savoury…
Made it difficult to know where to begin. Okay, so maybe it wasn’t authentic to anywhere. But it was fun.
And if you’re standing there outside with something hot in your hands while all around are twinkle lights, then authenticity matter less. There’s something about December that makes the whole world go all buzzy, and it hits its peak at month-end…then, wham, things change.
In Japan, New Year is not champagne and fireworks, it’s a quiet time, more inward. Cities empty out as people head to temples or back home; lots of places close down for a couple of days. You feel it happen nearly overnight.
We visited a shrine just after midnight on New Years, and there was an endless line of people waiting to pray. They was all bundled up and calm and patient. It felt so serious.
It wasn’t exactly festive, but it was meaningful in a way I didn’t expect.
The Food Becomes Everything
Not what I expected at all. , food is what you live for.
The nights revolved around dinner plans, and to be honest, comfort food like this make more sense in winter than any other time of year. Every single night we visited ramen shops where people were packed into small spaces, with steam billowing up from bowls and filling the entire room with warmth and noise. And though I may have overdone the tonkotsu ramen, there is no better thing on a cold winter day than walking around in the cold for hours before sitting down to a steaming bowl of fatty rich broth and noodles that still retain their bite.
Simple, but just what you want.
In the winter, grilled eel over rice also knocked me for a loop, warm, tender fish covered in a sweet, sticky glaze, all plated inside a lacquered box that made it even more delicious somehow. It wasn’t special occasion food here. They was regular old dinners that felt special because it was so damn cold out.
The Quiet Moments Sneak Up on You
I didn’t expect to have so much quiet time during the winter in Japan. For all the crowds out at night for Christmas lights and on New Years, there was an emptiness in the early mornings. The small street were quiet.
There were pockets of calm in otherwise busy areas, especially after a snowfall when everything is clean and undisturbed until someone comes along and leaves footprints. Instead, I discovered that my pace slowed down, I stopped more often, and lingered in cafés longer than usual. I think some of this was due to the cold, there’s no hurrying up when you’re cold!
But some of it was also just what winter is like. Winter allow for sitting with things a little longer. It doesn’t move you along as fast as summer and spring.
This is what Japan in winter is realy like: cold, sure. It gets dark early, definitely. And yet, it is warm in all the right ways.
It is packed with food that makes sense. It is quiet enough so you take note of the things you might otherwise miss during other times of year. If I had of it to do over, I would absolutely go again in winter.
Have you thought about going to Japan in winter or even gone? What pulls you towards it or holds you back?
