The line for the best local meal in town is long, leaving you with plenty of time to explore the immediate area. As you wander around, you spot a small, unassuming door right next to the crowded restaurant entrance. Do you wait patiently, or do you let your curiosity guide you and take a moment to peek inside?
It’s easy to focus on the big-city itinerary, but the best finds are almost always waiting when you turn off the main road and allow yourself to wander. That’s exactly what I did recently. My wife, a friend, and I drove deep into the mountains of Wakayama, hunting for a legendary shiitake donburi in Ryujin Village.
The plan was simple: eat a great mushroom bowl. The result was a story about connection, craftsmanship, and the quiet exchanges that make travel so meaningful.
The Unexpected Door Next Door
The restaurant we were looking for was inside a small roadside “Michi no Eki” (roadside stop) in Ryujin Village, a spot famous for its local mushrooms. Instead of pork cutlet, the star of the dish is a thick, deep-fried shiitake mushroom that’s crispy on the outside, tender inside, and sitting over a bowl of rice with egg and sauce.
When we arrived, the place was packed. We put our name on the list and wandered around while waiting. Next door, I noticed a small workshop called G.Works, filled with handmade wooden furniture. Inside the shop, a couple of sales ladies walked around wondering if they should greet me.
One of them smiled and encouraged me to look around. I sat in one of their chairs and couldn’t believe how perfectly it fit my body. It was solid, smooth, and made with such care. I smiled back and slowly looked at a few other items before heading out of the shop.
Just outside, my wife and friend wandered up from the riverside where they had been taking in the nature views. When our turn came, we were called and finally sat down to eat. The shiitake donburi didn’t look that different from a katsudon, but the taste surprised me. It was rich, earthy, and satisfying in a way that only something made with local care can be.
Inside the Craft: Our Private Tour
With our tummies full and satisfied, we made our way out. I brought my wife and our friend back to the woodworking shop. The two ladies running the shop were happy to see me come back and quickly made small talk with my wife and friend. In that small talk, they mentioned that all the items are made by hand in the back room of their shop. When they offered to show us their workspace, we couldn’t resist.
Three craftsmen looked up at us from their work, surprised to see an American. One of them welcomed us and gave us a tour. We followed him through the sawdust-covered floor as he explained how they selected the wood and shaped each piece by hand. Their pride in their work was unmistakable.
That tour was a special treat for us. I never imagined we’d get to see the workshop in the back of this business when we left that morning. It also made sense to me why the sale items were a little pricier than I would have expected.
The Quiet Exchange of Sustainable Travel
As we stepped back into the front of the shop, I realized this kind of moment is what makes traveling in Japan so meaningful. It’s not only about seeing famous sights, but also about stepping into small communities and connecting with the people who keep local traditions alive. In places like Ryujin, every workshop, farm, or café you visit helps sustain a way of life that might otherwise fade away. When you take the time to join a hands-on activity, talk with a craftsperson, or buy something made right there, it becomes more than a transaction. They open their world to you, and in return, your curiosity and support help their community thrive. Experiences like this remind me that sustainable travel isn’t only about protecting nature; it’s also about nurturing relationships and appreciating the quiet exchanges that make Japan so special.
Before leaving, a small fish-shaped cutting board caught my eye. I hesitated at first since it wasn’t cheap, but my wife gave me a look that said more than words: they had taken the time to show us their world; the right thing to do was to take a piece of it home.
So, I bought the cutting board. It now sits in our kitchen, a reminder of that afternoon in Ryujin Village, where a delicious meal and a short visit taught me that gratitude in Japan isn’t always expressed in words. Sometimes, it’s shown through the quiet act of giving back. I’m so glad I was able to connect with them and support their work of sustaining their community.
I left there that day with you on my mind, thinking about how nice it would’ve been if you could have also been on that tour of the backroom workshop with us. So, if we ever get the chance to visit Ryujin Village together someday, let’s take a walk through the workshop to admire the craftsmanship together and fill our tummies with a bowl of shiitake donburi.