Shingu

Joining the traditional spring matsuri in Shingu Downtown is a bit like crashing Japan's best-kept block party, where you'll find yourself swept away amid a joyous frenzy of drumming taiko beats, vibrant kimono-clad locals, and portable mikoshi shrines bouncing triumphantly down narrow streets. Historically, these festivals began as Shinto celebrations to appease gods and welcome good fortune-but now, frankly, they're a festive excuse to eat your body weight in street vendor yakitori and admire neighbors who miraculously manage sake-fueled dance moves without catastrophe. Secure a front-row spot by arriving early-around mid-morning-and don't be shy about elbowing politely through the friendly chaos. Bring cash (¥3,000-¥5,000 is ample), a camera with full battery, and maybe some aspirin for later. Line up your lodging at least two months in advance-otherwise, you'll end up bunking down in a manga cafe, spooning a stack of manga issues taller than Mt. Fuji. Sure, you'll leave slightly deafened by chants and drumming, clothes smelling faintly of charcoal grill smoke, but you'll have a story vivid enough to hold court at dinner parties for decades.

At first glance, whale watching from the sleepy fishing town of Nachi-Katsuura in Wakayama Prefecture sounds idyllic-perhaps a genteel afternoon spent bobbing serenely on azure waters. But here's the delicious reality: you're venturing into the unpredictable Pacific Ocean, chasing mammals the size of city buses that gracefully glide beneath your humble vessel, indifferent yet majestic. Historically, Nachi-Katsuura sits at a crossroads where pilgrims trekking to ancient shrines once paused to marvel at the ocean expanse, blissfully unaware these waters concealed creatures worthy of Captain Ahab's obsession. Opt for the earliest departure, not only to catch whales munching breakfast, but also because sunrise over the Kii Peninsula's misty peaks rivals any encounter you'll have at sea. Book a week or two in advance, budget around ¥6,000-¥8,000 (about the cost of a decent night out in Tokyo), and pack sunscreen, a windbreaker, motion sickness tablets-trust me, even the toughest among us can be humbled by a rolling swell-and of course, binoculars for prime whale espionage. Ultimately, whale-watching off Nachi-Katsuura is the sort of deliciously unpredictable experience that feeds your anecdotes for years-because witnessing a whale surface near your boat, blowing a salty mist skyward as if expressing mild irritation at your curiosity, is something you never truly forget.

Descending into Yunomine Onsen feels somewhere between stumbling onto an ancient secret and crashing a private spa party thrown by history itself. Nestled in the mossy, cedar-forested hills of rural Wakayama, this tiny village boasts some of Japan's oldest and most scandalously therapeutic hot springs, steaming steadily for around 1,800 years and counting. Locals whisper legends of pilgrims once dipping themselves here before stepping onto sacred Kumano trails-essentially medieval spiritual pre-gaming. Brave the sulfuric funk in the early hours or wait until twilight when lanterns cast eerie shadows across wooden buildings, but either way, plan a good few weeks ahead (these iconic tubs are snug and fiercely coveted). Bring about ¥1,000-¥2,000 for a proper soak, a small towel, and humility-clothing is strictly optional, modesty decidedly impossible. Sure, you'll emerge red-faced and lobster-pink-but consider it an initiation ritual, a rite of passage into a tradition older than your great-grandfather's jokes. And even if you barely survive five steamy minutes, trust me-your awkward encounter with history, nudity, and scalding mineral water will be worth recounting at dinner parties for decades.