Eastern Hokkaido Through My Eyes: A Photo Journey
Eastern Hokkaido Through My Eyes: A Photo Journey
A personal photo journey through Eastern Hokkaido – from Obihiro's yatai to Lake Akan's Kamuy Lumina, and reflections on change, gratitude, and the people who made it unforgettable.
Just last week, while mindlessly scrolling on Facebook over the Raya holidays, I came across a post from someone I met on a business trip to Hokkaido back in 2019. Mr. Hiyakawa was retiring, and his post stirred something in me – a flood of memories from that autumn road trip through Eastern Hokkaido. I reached out, and his kind reply reminded me why I fell in love with this region: the people, the landscapes, the quiet moments that stayed with me long after I returned home.
I’ve been thinking about Heraclitus lately: "No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it’s not the same river and he’s not the same man." Looking at these old photos, I realize how much has changed – and yet, the longing to return, to share these stories, hasn’t faded. So here they are: a visual diary of a trip that shaped me, and the people who made it unforgettable.
✈️ The Road Begins at Haneda
It was past 10 PM when I landed at Haneda, heart racing – would I make the shuttle to the hotel? In the immigration queue, I overheard someone mention a flight time. I took a breath, walked over, and asked if they were on the same FAM trip. They were. We swapped numbers in seconds, and just like that, I had travel companions for the days ahead.
The next morning, we boarded a small AirDo flight to Obihiro. The plane had a cute bear mascot, and the view below was a patchwork of autumn colours and green. The air when we stepped out was crisp – 16°C, my favourite. I took off my coat and felt the cool breeze welcome me to Hokkaido.
🌾 Obihiro: Fields, Farms & Yatai
Our guide, Yoko-san, met us with a smile that never left her face all week. She was bubbly, knowledgeable, and spoke English so well. She showed us around Obihiro’s farms, introduced us to Itadakimasu Company’s farm tour (where we harvested Japanese yam with our own hands), and took us to Tokachi Winery. But the highlight was the evening at Kitanoyatai, a small alley of food stalls.
We squeezed into Petit Plaisir, a tiny place where the owner watched us with amusement. I whispered to a friend that melted cheese would be perfect on my corn. He must have heard – a moment later, he shaved cheese from a giant wheel right onto my bowl. It was glorious. The beer poured perfectly, with a soft foam and no bitterness. I’ve never found that taste again, but maybe that’s the point: some things belong only to that moment.
🏞️ Lake Akan: Where Nature Speaks
Lake Akan was the heart of the trip. I had a room with a full window overlooking the lake. Instead of the large bed, I pulled the futon to the window, lay under the stars, and woke to the soft sunrise painting the autumn foliage gold. I stayed a little longer, then rushed to the onsen before breakfast – one of those rare moments when my mind went completely quiet.
We learned about the Ainu people, their belief in kamuy – spirits that dwell in all things. Their story of the Hokkaido wolf, driven to extinction by human greed, hit hard. That evening, we walked Kamuy Lumina, an interactive night path through the forest. Armed with glowing “rhythm staffs”, we became messengers on a quest to restore balance to nature. The full moon rose at the perfect moment, and I found myself holding back tears – not from sadness, but from the weight of the message and the beauty of the experience. I will write a separate post about this. It deserves its own space.
🦌 Shiretoko: Where the Wild Roams Free
From Lake Akan, we drove east through Lake Mashu, its waters so clear they seemed unreal. We reached Shiretoko, a UNESCO World Heritage site where bears and deer roam freely. The landscape was raw, untamed. We stayed at a hotel where the onsen faced the sea, and I sat in the outdoor bath, watching the waves and wondering if the deer we saw earlier were watching too.
❄️ Abashiri: History, Ice, and a Taste of the Sea
We continued to Abashiri, visiting the famous prison museum (a Golden Kamuy fan’s dream) and learning about drift ice at the Okhotsk Sea Ice Museum. At Cape Notoro, a single dandelion stood against the observation tower – a small, defiant beauty. And then, the moment that surprised me most: our first taste of whale meat. I didn’t understand the smell, the texture. But the guide explained: respect for life, gratitude for the sea. I took a bite, and tried to honour that.
🛫 The Long Way Back
Our last day, we flew from Mombetsu back to Haneda. But my trip wasn’t over. I had a long transit, so I took the express train to Shinjuku, bought my favourite books and cosmetics (tax‑free, of course), and raced back to the airport with exactly one yen left on my PASMO after exiting the ticket gate. I made it. And on the flight home, I already knew I’d be back – not just to Hokkaido, but to Japan, over and over again.
🌊 The River, the Same Yet Different
Heraclitus said you can’t step into the same river twice. Looking back at this trip, I see how much has changed: I’ve grown from a travel consultant into someone who interprets at fairs, writes about Japan, and shares stories like these. I’ve lost people, gained new friends, and learned to appreciate the luxury of slowing down.
But the river hasn’t changed so much that I don’t recognize it. The kindness of Yoko-san, the warmth of the yatai owner, the quiet awe at Lake Akan – those feelings are still with me. And the people I met on that trip? We still have a WhatsApp group. We don’t talk often, but when we do, we’re still those girls soaking in the onsen, sharing snacks, dreaming of where we’d go next.
One day, I’ll return. Maybe to Petit Plaisir, with new friends, to taste that beer again. Maybe to Lake Akan, to walk Kamuy Lumina under a full moon. The river will be different, and so will I. But I’ll carry these memories with me – and maybe, share them with you, too.
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