The Day Trips From Kyoto, Osaka, and Tokyo That Showed Me a Different Side of Japan
Japan is full of places that dominate the headlines: Kyoto with its temples, Tokyo with its neon, Osaka with its street food. And don’t get me wrong, those are all amazing. But some of the best memories I’ve made in Japan weren’t in the well-trodden spots, but in the less obvious corners. The kind of places you stumble into on a free afternoon, or spots that don’t see the same endless queues of tourists yet carry just as much charm, if not more.
On my month-long trip to Japan in April 2025, I carved out time for a few of these: Hikone on the edge of Lake Biwa, the leafy hills of Minoh outside Osaka, the underrated port city of Kobe, and two of Tokyo’s quieter neighbourhoods, Jiyūgaoka and Sangenjaya. If you’re looking for somewhere that feels a bit more personal and a lot less “bucket list checklist”, these are well worth adding to your journey.
Hikone and Lake Biwa
If you’re staying in Kyoto and want to escape the overtourism and general chaos that the old city endures, a trip up Lake Biwa to Hikone is a great choice. It’s only an hour away on the Tokaido-Sanyo line serviced by JR West, and the train journey itself is half the fun. As you pass through Otsu and skim along the edges of Lake Biwa, you’re treated to some incredible views that make it feel like you’ve already gone on a small adventure before even stepping off the train.
Most people will tell you that Hikone Castle is the jewel here, and while it is undeniably impressive, I’d actually argue the true highlight is the town itself. Wandering around Hikone is like stepping into a slower rhythm of life. I passed rice fields that glistened under the sunlight, walked through the compact main town with its old-style shops, and popped into a few local stores that felt untouched by mass tourism. There’s a simplicity to it all that really stuck with me.
And then, of course, there’s the food. Shiga’s specialty noodles often fly under the radar - Shiga itself doesn’t see anywhere near the tourist numbers of Kyoto, Osaka, or Nara - but that makes trying them feel even more special. If you’re down by the lake near Hikone Harbour, Omi Soba Konkian is the spot to go for a bowl of ramen made with those incredible noodles. It’s the kind of meal that lingers in your memory, not just because of the taste, but because it feels rooted in a place that’s often overlooked.
Hikone left me with the sense that sometimes the “in between” towns, the ones people treat as side notes to bigger attractions, are where you actually find the real magic.
Minoh
Minoh sits in the north of Osaka and does take a bit of planning to reach, especially if you’re not staying near a station serviced by the Hankyu line. From Osaka Station (not to be confused with Shin-Osaka), you can hop on the Hankyu line and be at Mino-o Station within 30 minutes. It’s one of those places that feels like a secret escape from the urban sprawl, yet is surprisingly accessible if you know the route.
When you step off the train, the best way to get your bearings is simple: just start walking uphill. No need for Google Maps - sooner or later, the residential streets thin out, and you’ll find yourself on the path that winds its way towards Ryuan-ji Temple. The transition is gradual and almost cinematic: small homes, neatly tended gardens, and local shops give way to shaded trails flanked by mossy rocks and maple trees.
Along the way, you’ll pass Minoo Ichinohashi, a tiny souvenir shop tucked to the side of the path. It’s easy to miss, but for me it ended up being a delightful detour. I found a huge box with pins going for 100 yen each and even unearthed some rare Williams Racing pins from the 1980s. Wandering into a quiet hillside shop like that, unplanned and unhurried, perfectly captures the joy of exploring Minoh.
Continuing along the path, the atmosphere shifts. The rustle of leaves and chirping birds becomes your soundtrack. If you take a slight detour, you’ll come across Ryuan-ji Temple, a serene spot dating back to 658 AD. The temple’s quiet courtyards and traditional architecture provide a moment to pause and appreciate the history nestled in the natural surroundings. Nearby, the Sakura Plaza Observation Deck rewards walkers with sweeping views back over Osaka. On a clear day, you can trace the city’s skyline stretching into the distance, a striking contrast to the green calm enveloping the trail.
The path eventually leads to Minoh Falls, a 33-metre cascade that’s a highlight of the area. But what makes Minoh special isn’t just the waterfall itself - it’s the entire journey. Passing locals’ homes, glimpsing little gardens and shrines, and discovering unexpected treasures along the way makes the walk feel like a narrative rather than just a hike. Seasonal touches add even more charm: autumn brings fiery foliage that frames the falls, while winter frost turns the path into a delicate, crystalline wonderland.
Even if you don’t reach the very end, Minoh offers plenty to see and explore. From the small shops near the station to the quiet backstreets and temple trails, it’s a reminder that the journey can be just as rewarding as the destination, and in Minoh, every turn feels like a new discovery.
Jiyūgaoka
Jiyūgaoka is something of an enigma. When you step out of the train station, it feels as though you’ve slipped into a different era of Tokyo. Unlike the neon-drenched chaos of Shibuya or Shinjuku, Jiyūgaoka feels relaxed, almost nostalgic, and it’s perfect for boutique shopping and leisurely strolling. The streets are lined with quaint cafés, artisanal bakeries, and tiny shops selling everything from handmade ceramics to unique fashion finds, making it a photographer’s dream for capturing the subtler, quieter side of Tokyo life.
I originally came looking for “Little Europe”, a themed area that’s meant to transport visitors abroad for a short while, but I found myself more enchanted by the areas that didn’t try to be anything other than their authentic selves. Narrow alleys open up into small squares, and every corner seems to hide another charming café or bookshop. You can easily spend an afternoon wandering and letting curiosity guide you, sampling coffee from a café that smells like it was pulled straight from a European street corner while watching local families go about their day.
Getting to Jiyūgaoka is relatively straightforward if you know the train combinations. I found the Keihin-Tōhoku Line from Tokyo Station to be reliable, switching onto the Ōimachi Line at Ōimachi Station. Once you’re there, the real joy is in walking. I discovered small parks tucked between buildings, local sweet shops selling treats I’d never seen before, and even a few spots that felt almost cinematic in their stillness, a rare slice of calm in bustling Tokyo.
What I loved most was how approachable it felt. You don’t need an itinerary or a map, and you don’t feel like you’re missing anything by wandering aimlessly. There’s a rhythm to the area - a slower pace that encourages exploration, stopping for a snack or coffee, and people-watching as the locals go about their day. It’s Tokyo, yes, but a gentler, softer version that’s easy to fall for, and one that leaves a lasting impression because it doesn’t try too hard.
Kobe
Kobe is a place I wish I had more time for, because the more you peel back its layers, the more there is to uncover. It’s only 35 minutes on the Tokaido-Sanyo line from Osaka Station, and if you’re in a rush you can shoot there from Shin-Osaka in just 12 minutes (though your wallet will notice the difference). For such a short trip, it opens up an entirely different side of Kansai.
I explored the Nada ward, which instantly gave me a sense of Kobe’s charm - neighbourhoods that felt lived in rather than polished for visitors. I also stumbled across the Sakura Tunnel, a road completely covered by cherry trees when they’re in bloom. It’s one of those seasonal spectacles that makes you stop in your tracks and reminds you why Japan’s obsession with sakura is so enduring.
From there, I made my way up towards Mayasan Historical Park and the Kikuseidai Observation Platform via the Maya Cable Car station. The climb itself is as memorable as the destination. The air feels fresher, the city noise fades, and you get glimpses of Kobe sprawling beneath you as you go higher - well that was the plan if a storm didn't roll in nearly cancelling all means of getting back down the hill.
And that’s just scratching the surface. There’s Rokko Island, an artificial island filled with quirky modern architecture, and the densely packed Midorimachi area, where the urban sprawl feels almost overwhelming in its density. Kobe isn’t just “that port city near Osaka” - it’s layered, it’s surprising, and it has so many corners that pull you in if you give it the time.
Sangenjaya
Sangenjaya was a bit of a free hit for me. I had a spare afternoon and wanted to go somewhere random, and for whatever reason, I picked Sangenjaya. It didn’t disappoint.
The first thing you’ll notice is the “Carrot Tower”, an orange, carrot-shaped building that dominates the area. So many shops and cafés reference it in their branding that it becomes part of the neighbourhood’s personality.
Walking around, I loved the slower pace after a few days in Shinjuku and Shibuya areas of Tokyo. Narrow walkways twisted through residential streets, small parks cropped up unexpectedly, and every corner seemed to have a hidden coffee shop or local restaurant. A few elderly locals, clearly curious about why I was wandering there, struck up conversations in English. One man even guided me to a cafe so I could try his favourite drink - possibly the strongest coffee I’ve ever tasted. Maybe that’s the real secret to Japan’s longevity.
Sangenjaya isn’t about big sights, it’s about atmosphere. It’s also home to the Tokyu Setagaya Line, a quaint tram that rattles between Sangenjaya and Shimo-Takaido. I hopped on at Nishi-Taishidō and immediately regretted doing so during rush hour, but outside peak times it’s a charming way to see a slice of local Tokyo. Along the route I spotted countless izakayas that looked like they’d burst into life after dark.
It’s the kind of place you go when you want to wander without a plan, and it rewards you for it.
Nagoya
Nagoya often gets overlooked in favour of its glitzier neighbours, but if you want something different, it’s worth stopping by. The city is more industrial and business-focused compared to Tokyo or Osaka, but it still has its charms, especially if you enjoy modern architecture and urban exploration.
If you’re curious, I’ve put together a separate guide with more detail which you can check out here.
Lasting Memories
Sometimes the most amazing memories are made when you explore a bit more outside of a usual travel itinerary. I absolutely loved Osaka, but the true highlights of that trip beyond Dotonbori were the day trips out to places like Minoh and Kobe. The same goes for Kyoto - it’s a fantastic city, but it was my escape to Lake Biwa and Hikone that has stayed with me the most, even more than the central temples and shrines.
Travelling through Japan taught me that while the big-ticket attractions are popular for a reason, it’s the smaller, less-visited places that often give you the strongest connection. The kind of places where you stumble across a box of 100-yen pins, or share a coffee with a stranger, or find yourself completely surrounded by cherry blossoms on a random road in Kobe.
If you have the time, step off the beaten path. That’s where the stories worth telling usually hide.
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I travelled through Japan in April 2025, exploring both the big icons and the hidden detours. You can see the full journey in my Japan gallery.
If you enjoyed this story, you might like some of the other adventures I’ve shared:
