Misadventures in Mt. Ibuki and Omihachiman
Landslides, extortionist taxi drivers, and canals at sunset, oh my!
I followed every rainbow, but I did not find my dream.
Have you ever had a trip where just about anything that could go wrong went wrong? Where the planning does not pay off and your wallet is screaming at you for attempting to enjoy a space other than your tiny apartment? For me, that was this week’s trip up north to Shiga Prefecture, where I shelled out over a hundred smackeroonies to not climb a mountain. But I’m getting ahead of myself.
I considered not writing about this trip at all. It hurts what minimal credibility I have to admit that I made a mistake in the realm of travel planning. Even more so, that I spent the past two and a half days showing pictures of people climbing the very same mountain to my husband, exasperatingly asking him how they were able to get there but we weren’t, pinning metaphorical pieces of red string between web sources while I accused the universe of conspiring against me.
Alas, travel is kind of known for not working out. Sometimes things go wrong, and it doesn’t matter whose fault it is. The success of this trip to Shiga, however, is that we managed to enjoy ourselves anyway, and here’s exactly how that went.
The incredibly serene bus stop near Amahanoyu Onsen.
The flower mountain was not fated for us
Standing at just over 1300 meters tall, Mt. Ibuki looks out over the northeastern side of Lake Biwa in Shiga Prefecture. Although graced by a steady stream of climbers each season, the alpine flowers in the summer are its main appeal. Down in Nara where I live, the mountains are too low for such flora to bloom, and thus I was greatly looking forward to seeing them in the final days of July.
My husband, Taka, and I decided to make a day trip out of it, but getting there by public transportation was no easy feat. Here is where I made mistake #1: not using the most up-to-date train schedule for reference. To make a long story short, one of the local trains on a journey with half a dozen transfers was swapped out, which threw off the entire schedule. As a consequence, we missed the bus to the trailhead, and there wasn’t another for four hours.
Going on 10:30, my husband called for a taxi to take us to the trailhead—money be damned, I was going to climb the flower mountain. The whole way, we were chatting with the driver, who gleefully told stories of him climbing Mt. Ibuki as we pulled through the kilometers of verdant rice paddies.
About 15 minutes later, he dropped us off at what we thought was the bus stop. The shrines and information center were silent. The map said it would take us 3 and a half hours to the top, even though I had intended to do the loop course, which would take under an hour and a half. Then, as we noticed a cable car rusted and covered in ivory, a man ran up to us to tell us the mountain was closed due to irreparable damage from a landslide back in 2023.
Here is where I’m not sure what happened.
I’d read about this landslide, which was the reason we couldn’t climb the entire 10-kilometer trail up the mountain, and instead would just be doing the loop course at the top. All my resources in English and in Japanese made it sound like the loop course was still open. People were clearly climbing, because I’d seen pictures as recently as a few days before the trip of the flowers on the summit. There were still infrequent buses taking people to the mountain, and the summit’s restaurants were open according to Google Maps.
So what gives?
Either way, the taxi driver pulled one over on us, taking us to the wrong trailhead or taking us to the trailhead knowing we A., couldn’t climb it and B., that he was leaving us stranded an hour’s walk from the station.
You can drive up the mountain via the Ibukisan Driveway starting from the Gifu side. It is possible that those are the same people who were posting photos, or that they were climbing despite the danger, or that that’s where the bus that we missed was supposed to take us, regardless.
Adding to the confusion was the inconsistent information on the blogs I’d consulted, with many Japanese sources failing to mention the closures entirely. Could I have simply misinterpreted what I read? It’s possible, but frustrating nonetheless.
All I knew in the moment was that we had gotten up at 5 a.m. and wasted four hours of our time and our entire travel budget for the month to come here, and now it was 103 degrees, we were starving, and there were five kilometers between us and the train station.
We had planned to stop by Omihachiman on the way home anyway, so we made the decision to get there as soon as possible and regroup. Taka and I would not be seeing any alpine flowers today, but dammit if we weren’t going to make the most of being in Shiga.
Living and dying in Omihachiman
Disappointed and delirious from the heat, we passed those five kilometers by singing “One Hundred Bottles of Beer on the Wall,” much to the amusement of the teens cycling by and the farmers working outside, I’m sure. Between ranting about being done with the carless lifestyle and giggling at the silliness of it all, we only made it to 77 bottles. Still, the greenery for miles on end was too beautiful not to comment on.
At the very least, this long walk had views.
As we rode the local train down to Omihachiman, we passed through Hikone Station. Back in 2019, I first came to Japan to study abroad in that very same town. Although I fell in love with Japan during that four-month stay, I hated my school and resented the fact that I was stuck in the sticks because of its low price tag. I hadn’t been back until this trip, which was why it was so important for me to have a successful do-over.
Returning to Hikone might seem like a more obvious choice, but I chose to come to Omihachiman instead because it seemed more picturesque. Between the canals, traditional streets, shrines, and mountains, there was just more to do in one afternoon.
But the first order of business was lunch.
The lakeside cafe was too far after all that walking (literally another five kilometers), so the two of us stopped by a Nepalese restaurant for curry. We ended up talking with the staff, who had evidently been eavesdropping on our conversation in English! It was perfect timing because the bus to take us to our second stop of the day, Chomeiji Temple, arrived just a few minutes after we parted ways.
Just like in Hikone, the public transportation in Omihachiman is severely lacking, and things are too spread out to just walk around, particularly in the middle of the summer. What I will give is that there is a certain charm in boarding what is essentially a white van with the same guy driving you around all day. I guess I was feeling social as I chatted up the driver, finding out he was from nearby Azuchi and getting sightseeing recommendations from him. The prices were a steal, too: it only cost 200 yen to get anywhere, and with my disability card discount, it was only 100 yen each way!
Hakuunkan, or the ‘White Cloud House,’ a former school built in 1877.
We arrived at Chomeiji to find that our climbing for the day was not done. Taking a glug from my hydration vest, I grabbed a walking stick and headed up the ancient, crumbling stone steps.
With the red three-story pagoda, rainbow origami paper cranes, and views of Lake Biwa, it was definitely worth the climb. The descent, however, was another story.
I’ve always maintained that I prefer hiking trails with dirt over stairs or pavement, and this is especially true when I’m coming back down. My legs would not stop shaking as I struggled not to break my ankle, and my hands were so sweaty I could barely keep hold of my walking stick. It was all I could do to keep breathing and work my way down to the nearby onsen.
If you were wondering whether we were going to ride the multiple trains back home stinking to high heavens, rest assured going to the onsen was in the cards the whole time. Here is where my planning actually did pay off: I’d found an onsen right next to Chomeiji Temple where we could get cleaned up and changed into street clothes for our last couple of hours in Omihachiman.
Unfortunately, without my glasses, I missed the fact that there was an outdoor bath overlooking Lake Biwa, but we did catch a good look through the shack of a bus stop we waited at afterwards. Regardless, it was luxurious to feel clean again and to rehydrate by drinking a delicious lychee green tea soda while sitting under the AC.
The same bus driver picked us up again to take us to Omihachiman Street, relieved that we’d made it through the journey without perishing from heat stroke. In another stroke of luck, Taka and I got off at the canals just before sunset, giving the shots a natural golden hue. Omihachiman gets more traffic during the cherry blossom season, but by the time the two of us got there, we were one of two couples throughout the whole place.
Our final sightseeing spot for the day was Himure Hachimangu Shrine. Again, the sunset added to the magic of exploring the grounds. Golden lanterns reflected the sunlight; plus, there was indeed moss to be found (one of my favorite things to photograph).
You can’t always get what you want, but if you try sometimes…
There were a number of places remaining on the list, such as Tarobo Shrine on Mt. Akigamiyama, but it was already after 6 p.m. and we had a three-hour train ride back home. Still feeling sick from the heat, however, I picked up a discounted Danish from the drugstore for dinner (say that five times fast) and ate it while walking to the station.
So much of the day had gone wrong. We didn’t actually see all that many places. But as we were walking beneath the cotton candy sky, looking at a school built multiple centuries before, observing students and workers cycling home, it felt like we had really lived a day in Shiga. I’m normally a type-A traveler who plans everything down to the minute, optimizing to see as many spots as possible. This just wasn’t the case on this trip, and that’s okay. By covering so much ground on foot and taking so much time to get anywhere, I was able to take in the scenery more so than I usually am, and finally appreciate Shiga Prefecture as more than a place I spent a rather awful semester years and years ago. As the train pulled out of the station (local, this time, to save money), I knew with certainty that I would be back again soon.
Access:
If and when all hiking paths on Mt. Ibuki are restored, I will put the access information here. In the meantime, here’s how to get to Omihachiman as well as all you need to know for getting around.
From Shin-Osaka Station, take the Tokaido Sanyo Line Special Rapid towards Nagahama. This train ride will take around an hour and cost you 1340 yen.
From Nara Station, you can take the Nara Line Rapid Miyakoji to Kyoto Station before transferring to the Tokaido Sanyo Line Special Rapid towards Tsuruga. In total, this trip will take you an hour and a half and run you 1520 yen.
While Omihachiman is a gorgeous town, it’s not easy to navigate on foot, so be prepared to walk a lot and keep an eye on the bus schedule. We came on a Tuesday to avoid the crowds, which is unnecessary in a lesser-known place like Omihachiman, at least at the time of year we went. I recommend coming on the weekend if you can, because many of the cool-looking restaurants and dessert shops (there’s even a candy apple place called Candy Bomb) were closed. Hopefully, the buses are more frequent then as well. And if you have a car, that will, of course, make things a lot easier. I do recommend exploring the nearby Higashi-Omi area if you have the time, as there are some beautiful hikes.
If you have any questions about Omihachiman or any other places mentioned in this blog, feel free to leave a comment below, and I will answer them as soon as possible. And if you have any favorite spots in Shiga, I’d love to hear them!
Planning on traveling to Japan? Sign up to get notified every time I post a new story. Like my work? Consider buying me a chai! Thank you so much for reading and supporting my work here at Koyo Travels.
