Good morning,
Autumn is in full swing here in Tokyo. We’re already deep into the merino sweater phase of the year, and I suspect that in a week’s time, those thin yet mighty Uniqlo winter coats (the nationwide uniform) will make their first seasonal debut.
As the weeks go by, new versions of those coats will surely appear, announced by Uniqlo with the kind of urgency that will once again make me feel I must buy one to stay alive, or at least to keep my visa intact. Yet they’ll all look so similar to the previous ones that telling them apart would attest not to one’s sense of fashion but rather to an engineering degree. Honestly, with names like BlockTech, HeatTech, Dry-Ex, Airism, and PuffTech, if it weren’t for the adorable colors and visuals, one could easily mistake Uniqlo’s product launches for those of a semiconductor company.
But despite the over-the-top jargon, it’s always encouraging to see Uniqlo’s webpage open with PuffTech, offering ultra-fine hollow synthetic fibers that trap air for lightweight warmth, quick-drying, washable, water-repellent, and anti-static performance for cool conditions, and replacing the Airism line and its comfort-conditioning, moisture-wicking, and miraculous capillary effect (otherwise known as the “if you need to wear this, you’d better stay indoors” technology). This shift, both on the webpage and on the colorful racks of Uniqlo, means summer is officially over, and we’re now as far from it, and all its misery, as we’ll ever be this year.
So, this particular time of the year is possibly the safest time to cover this month’s topic: the seasons of Japan and the eternal question of “when is the best time to visit?”- a question that, if asked during the summer, when in the throes of humidity-induced trauma and unable to imagine that better days would eventually come, would surely be met with a very firm “never.”
But now, with a sweater on, the air conditioner on heating mode, still dark outside at 4:30 a.m., and two cups of coffee in, I could perhaps not only over-romanticize Japan’s touristic allure but even find it in my heart to write one or two kind sentences in favor of Japanese summers.
So here we go: first, a few general remarks, followed by a season-by-season review, and, finally, a brief fake mea culpa section on over-tourism discussions in the context of Japan.
Where there’s a will, there’s a way
Two of the main drivers of international tourism in Japan are nature-related seasonal events: the fall colors, known as kōyō, and the cherry blossoms, the famous sakura. (So yes, brace yourself - this post will be full of truly shocking, never-before-heard revelations and secret tips like this.)
The sakura is a famously short-lived event, lasting only about a week at its peak, which I suppose is part of its appeal. Kōyō is a bit kinder in that respect, with a window of roughly three weeks in each location, during which the leaves' colors progress from green to yellow/orange and then red before turning brown and finally falling off the trees.
The Japan Meteorological Agency publishes an excellent fall colors forecast map each year, tracking the progress of autumn foliage at more than 700 locations across Japan throughout the season, along with a similar map for cherry blossoms in spring.
But since trips often need to be planned far in advance and the forecasts have a habit of changing (increasingly so in recent years), planning a trip around these natural events for a specific city can be a little anxiety-inducing.
There is, however, and fortunately, another “but” to all of this: if your main goal is to experience the kōyō or sakura and you’re flexible about where to go, Japan’s tall, narrow shape, dominated by mountains and stretching from 46°N in Hokkaido to 24°N in Okinawa, works in your favor, offering a remarkable range of seasonal contrasts, and a generous window of time to catch these seasonal events with a bit of moving around.
Fall colors begin in the peaks of Hokkaido as early as mid-September, then gradually move south through mountain ranges and northern cities, reaching the gardens and temples of Tokyo and Kyoto by late November. They then move to the southern regions such as Kyushu, before making their rather sad exit around mid-December. During this three-month stretch, you can either head higher into the mountains or travel from north to south to catch the colors at their peak.
Similarly, while you can encounter the cherry blossoms as early as mid-January in Okinawa, they won’t grace Hokkaido with their fleeting beauty until May, with Kyoto and Tokyo experiencing Japan’s most beloved natural spectacle from late March to early April. There are also early-blooming varieties, such as kawazu-sakura in the Izu Peninsula, that appear in February. In other words, from mid-January to mid-May, it will not be too hard to find somewhere in Japan to see for yourself whether those pink and white flowers live up to the hype.
So when it comes to kōyō and sakura, it’s a little bit of a “where there’s a will, there’s a way” situation.
This seasonal contrast, and the flexibility it brings, also makes it possible to design a trip that includes the usual suspects like Tokyo, Kyoto, or Kanazawa during their quieter shoulder seasons (mainly October, January, and February), while still leaving room for an awe-inducing, scenery-focused escape to a rural area, whether for kōyō, sakura, or Japan’s ever-spectacular snowy landscapes.
For instance, a late-October visit to Tokyo can be paired with a fall-colors getaway to Tohoku. Likewise, a relatively less expensive February stay in Kyoto can be complemented by a snowy onsen retreat in the easily accessible prefectures of Gifu or Nagano. This way, you can enjoy the main city destinations with fewer crowds while still getting to experience some version of iconic landscape scenery elsewhere.
The same logic tied to seasonal contrasts even applies to Japan’s otherwise dreadful summers: you may combine a hiking trip in Hokkaido (where breathing in summer still feels like a normal human function, unlike on the mainland) with a hot but undeniably beautiful beach stay in Okinawa, and you can skip the mainland altogether while still experiencing two of Japan’s most rewarding landscapes.
After this long introductory section, which the Japan National Tourism Organization would probably approve of, since it reads a little like a cheesy travel brochure titled Enjoy Japan: Anytime, Anywhere, let’s move on and take a closer look at the four seasons Japan is so famously proud of, even though it probably shouldn’t be (because one of those seasons really doesn’t deserve to be listed among the regular human-friendly ones).
Autumn: Who Does Not Love One
Except for Hokkaido, September is still essentially part of the summer season in Japan: beaches in Okinawa remain busy, while cities on the mainland stay grudgingly hostile to humankind.
But come October, the weather cools down substantially. The month, however, still falls under the typhoon season, which starts in May. So, if your plans include island destinations such as Okinawa or Yakushima, it is always good to have a backup plan, as transportation disruptions due to weather are not uncommon.
The impact of typhoons on mainland cities, while not nonexistent, is usually far less severe than on the smaller islands, making October an ideal time for walking-heavy urban adventures. It’s also, from an event-driven tourism perspective, one of the quieter months in Japan. There are no major holidays other than the Sports Day long weekend (on the second Monday of the month), so the hotel rates tend to be a little more reasonable across most destinations.
Early October (except in Hokkaido) is also still a good time for some mountain hiking before the snow takes over, and, with a little bit of traveling, you can even catch the fall colors in all their glory as they make their descent much earlier to some high altitude places like Karasawa1 in Kamikochi, the Tateyama Mountains, or Oku-Nikko2—three magnificent nature spots, each perfect for an overnight trip if you’re departing from Tokyo.
By early November, with the footsteps of autumn growing louder, things start to get a little busier. Around this time, carving out a few days in your itinerary for a Tohoku add-on will almost guarantee some fall color viewing without the need to hike up the mountains, as this is when the leaves reach their peak at easily accessible iconic spots like Oirase Stream in Aomori.
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