At the zenith of Atami’s heyday, it was the golden prize of your average corporate employee. A spa town so highly regarded<\/strong> since ancient times that the Tokugawa shogunate had servants tasked with bringing Atami hot spring waters all the way to Edo Castle<\/strong>. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
But these are just stories of long-gone glory days.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Explaining my love for Atami may seem counterintuitive at first glance. This hot spring destination<\/a> is still relatively overlooked by the current explosive tourist wave that fills local headlines and fuels the fires of social media outrage while wearing its history on its sleeve in a way that some might find quaint<\/strong>, if not outright unappealing. The town mascot is a middle-aged, balding man<\/a>, the castle is not an authentic historical site, and any eco-conscious visitor would likely wince at the coastal urban development.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Atami \u71b1\u6d77<\/strong>, literally meaning “hot ocean,” has a long history as one of Japan’s most famous hot spring resorts. The town\u2019s geothermal waters have attracted visitors for centuries, with records dating back to the Nara period (710-794 AD). During the Edo period, Atami became a favored retreat for the Tokugawa shogunate<\/strong>, establishing its status as a top destination among the Edo elite and the ultimate aspirational spot for everyone else. <\/p>\n\n\n
But its true golden age began in the early 20th century. Railway development shortened the distance from Tokyo, and the jewel of Shizuoka<\/a> flourished even more as a popular getaway for the city\u2019s elite. Riding the coattails of large corporate trips amid the bubble years<\/strong>, Atami\u2019s star power kept rising. Atami geisha were reaching celebrity status, the town\u2019s nightlife almost rivaled its hot spring appeal and resort and hotel developments were growing vertiginously.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And then, the bubble burst.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Walking down to the sea from the station, there\u2019s a lovely promenade along the coastline, next to Atami Sun Beach, that goes all the way south to Atami Water Park. One of the first things that will surely grab your attention is the prominent bronze statue of a man kicking down a woman.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
This is actually a depiction of the most famous scene from the novel Gold Demon<\/em><\/strong> (Konjiki Yasha), a moment of heartbreak for the protagonist, Kan-Ichi, a humble but hardworking young man, when he discovers that his beloved fiancee, Omiya, betrays him over another man\u2019s riches. One of the Meiji era’s most successful popular novels partially takes place in Atami and significantly contributed to the town\u2019s popularity.<\/p>\n\n\n
No more scandal-worthy sights await you for the moment. A few meters away, you\u2019ll find the Jacaranda Promenade, a pleasant garden with beautiful purple blooms in early summer to enjoy a picturesque stroll along the waterfront until you reach Atami Water Park and its pretty, European-inspired terraces that give a Mediterranean feel to the harbor. Along the way, there’s the confluence where the Itokawa River flows into the sea, where another nice promenade follows the river on a path lined with plum trees on either side.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Among towering trees next to Kinomiya Station, Kinomiya Jinja<\/strong><\/a> <\/strong>is an ancient shrine with an otherworldly feel accentuated by its access at the other side of the tunnel tracks.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The picturesque shrine is actually a very special one dedicated to a sacred camphor tree that\u2019s over 2,000 years old, and so is the enshrined deity, Isotakeru-no-Mikoto<\/a>, god of forestry, among other things. The large, beautiful, and imposing tree has seen it all, and so visitors pray in front of it in hopes of improving their longevity and their resilience against life challenges. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Kiunkaku<\/strong><\/a>, built in 1919 as a luxurious private villa for a wealthy industrialist, was subsequently transformed into a ryokan in 1947 until 1999, when Atami City took over and re-opened it one year later as a museum. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
As an architecture enthusiast, it\u2019s one of the places I love to visit because of its Taisho-era architecture with Western influences. No hint of playful irony here: this is probably one of the few actually sophisticated historical spots<\/strong> you can enjoy in downtown Atami. Even more so when I found out that literary giants like Dazai, Tanizaki, or Mishima (the latter two being among my favorite authors) were among the ryokan\u2019s guests. Strolling around the gorgeous central garden is a simple pleasure that never grows old, just like the villa\u2019s immaculately preserved room interiors.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Perched on a hill overlooking the town and the sea, the MOA Museum of Art<\/strong><\/a> is a bit further away from everything else, so it\u2019s only advisable if you\u2019re spending at least a couple of days in Atami. This modernist-inspired brutalist building houses an impressive collection of Japanese and East Asian art, including paintings, ceramics, and calligraphy. Besides the main building, the complex includes the reproduction of an exquisite Japanese residence, a tea house and a striking underground hall at the entrance with a kaleidoscopic light and sound installation.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
One of the museum\u2019s highlights is also one of the most elaborate works of passive-aggressive mockery I have ever seen in history. This is a faithful recreation of a portable golden tea room that Toyotomi Hideyoshi, the most powerful feudal lord at the time and newly appointed Imperial Regent, ordered to have assembled in 1586 when the Emperor Ogimachi summoned him to the Kyoto Imperial Palace. Regarding the latter as a powerless figurehead, Hideyoshi complied by turning the tables and showing up in court with said tea room in such a way that it ended up being the Regent, the one hosting the Emperor, and not the other way around.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
As far as Japanese castles go, Atami Castle<\/a><\/strong> is magnificent from afar. A fine example of Azuchi-Momoyama architectural style<\/strong>, strategically located at the top of a mountain for a perfect town postcard. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then you get closer, and if your eye is trained on Japanese castles all over the country like yours truly, the cheap-looking facade doesn\u2019t add up. I learned upon entry about its historical pretense. It came into existence in 1959 as yet another tourist attraction. I confess I regretted my visit for a split second before loving it again. As kitsch as the idea of a fake castle could be, the effort is commendable, if only for consistency with Atami\u2019s usual antics. It\u2019s just perfect<\/strong>. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
As if trying to make up for its lack of authenticity, it features an exhibition on Japanese castles and other samurai-related memorabilia<\/strong>. And then the floor above reminds you again not to take the place too seriously with a collection of shunga<\/em>, or erotic ukiyo-e<\/em>. It\u2019s quite interesting, though, especially for enthusiasts of woodblock prints, as (understandably) those are the kind you won\u2019t see at regular museums and galleries. Regardless of personal taste or interest in history, at the very least, the sweeping views at the top are worth the visit. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Going past the Hihoukan, you can hop aboard the ropeway for an extra scenic return ride.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The fastest way<\/strong> to reach Atami is by using the Tokaido Shinkansen from Tokyo Station. The journey takes approximately 40 minutes on the Kodama and Hikari services. Alternatively, you can take the local train on the JR Tokaido Line from Tokyo Station or Shinagawa Station, which takes about 90 minutes. There are also direct highway buses<\/strong> from Shinjuku or Tokyo Station to Atami. The journey takes approximately between two and three hours.<\/p>\n\n\n\n