Can’t-miss highlights to start your trip.
Three signature sights that define Fukushima.
• Tsuruga Castle (Aizu-Wakamatsu) — Aizu’s emblem with bright red tiles. Famous for cherry blossoms in spring.
• Ouchi-juku — An Edo-period post town lined with thatched houses. Try the playful “leek-as-chopsticks” soba.
• Goshikinuma Ponds — Volcanic crater lakes whose colors shift with minerals and light. Boardwalks offer easy access to seasonal vistas.
A symbol of Aizu with its striking red-tiled keep — a stronghold central to the Boshin War.
Those red tiles are a snow-country “armor.”
The 2011 renovation revived durable glazed tiles — not just for looks but to withstand severe cold and heavy snow. The castle’s maze-like defensive layout and iron “Kurogane-mon” gates confused attackers, like a real-life fortress game.
The women of Aizu also fought: Yaeko Niijima famously donned men’s garb as a sharpshooter, and others smothered duds with wet futons — a total-war effort beyond gender roles.
Today, about 1,000 cherry trees paint the grounds in spring. Many were planted after the war as “blossoms of recovery,” a hopeful counterpoint to the castle’s tragic past.
A preserved Edo post town of thatched roofs where the signature “green onion soba” is eaten using a whole leek as a utensil.
“Don’t sell, don’t lend, don’t demolish” — a 400-year pledge.
Since its designation as an Important Preservation District in 1981, strict local rules keep the landscape intact. The leek is both utensil and antibacterial garnish — a clever Edo-era practicality.
On September 1, the community conducts robust fire-prevention drills, blasting water cannons onto the thatch — a striking display of cultural-asset defense.
Winter snow screens and year-round cooperative maintenance (“yui” spirit) guard the village. Feel the seasons and the bonds that preserve this living time capsule.
135.2 km between Aizu-Wakamatsu (Fukushima) and Koide (Niigata). The 1st Tadami River Bridge draws photographers for water-mirror and river-mist shots.
A revival line born from passion.
Flood damage once threatened closure, but local governments and railfans rallied — more than 20,000 volunteers helped across years of restoration.
The brick-arch bridge preserves early 20th-century character. Mossy sleepers and rusted rails meet the river in a nostalgic tableau.
Spring haze, deep summer greens, blazing autumn foliage, and snowy winters — each season rewards patience. From the observation deck near “Mishima-juku” roadside station, time train crossings with a warm drink in hand.
A 4.2 km limestone cave known for diverse speleothems — often called the “Orient’s finest” underground gallery.
An 80-million-year theater opened by chance.
Discovered during limestone quarrying in 1969, the cave dazzles with crystal curtains and rimstone pools formed over eons. The “Takine Goten” hall, with formations hanging 29 m high, looks like a subterranean palace under lights.
The optional exploration route adds ladders and stepping stones into normally unseen areas — an adventure for the curious.
Cave pearls and slow-growing stalagmites (often less than 1 mm per year) testify to a timescale far beyond a human lifetime — geology you can feel.
A weeping cherry tree over 1,000 years old — designated a Natural Monument and among Japan’s Three Great Cherry Trees.
A waterfall of blossoms across the centuries.
Designated in 1922 as Japan’s first cherry tree Natural Monument, its 25 m spread becomes a cascading “flowerfall” at full bloom.
Legend says Sakanoue no Tamuramaro planted it; the town name “Miharu” derives from plum, peach, and cherry blooming together — “three springs.”
During bloom season, special buses (“Takizakura-go”) run, and the town turns pink — a dreamlike scene you won’t soon forget.
Tower-like cliffs stretch for 200 m along the Aga River — a National Natural Monument with a suspension bridge and panoramic deck.
“Hetsuri” is local dialect for steep riverside cliffs.
Carved over millions of years, the rock pillars resemble natural sculptures. Cross Fujimi Bridge to find remnants of old transport trails and an altar to Kokuzo Bosatsu — where geology and faith intersect.
New green in spring, deep green in summer, crimson in fall, and white in winter — every season reshapes the scene.
The cliffside observation deck frames the river’s flow against the vertical strata — a perfect photo stop.
A double-helix wooden temple on Iimoriyama — an Important Cultural Property with a one-way pilgrimage path.
Ingenious ramps that never cross.
Built in 1796, the interior comprises two spiral ramps separating ascent and descent — no need to pass oncoming visitors. The hall once displayed all 33 Saigoku Kannon images, offering pilgrims full benefits in a single walk.
Named after a turban shell (sazae), the rounded exterior sheds wind and rain — form serving function centuries before modernism.
Some even link it to “hidden stair” lore — join a guided tour to learn its mysteries.
Japan’s 4th-largest lake — famed for exceptional clarity and the nickname “Heaven’s Mirror.”
A royal artist coined the name.
In the Meiji era, Prince Takehito Arisugawa likened the waters to a mirror and named a lakeside villa “Tenkyo-kaku” (Heaven’s Mirror Pavilion) — inspiring the lake’s nickname.
Sulfate components suppress plankton, keeping waters clear. In winter, “splash ice” forms along frigid shores like natural glass sculpture.
Migratory swans glide over a silvery surface — a minimal, monochrome beauty you’ll remember for life.
Over 1,400 years of history — one of the three renowned Ou hot springs, with classic public-bath hopping.
Discovered by the legendary prince, loved by poets.
Folklore says Yamato Takeru found the springs on an eastern campaign. Matsuo Basho also stopped by during his “Narrow Road to the Deep North,” penning a haiku about festive banners.
Nine public baths enable “bath hopping” all day. The local specialty “radium eggs,” gently cooked in hot spring heat, are simple, nostalgic comfort food.
A 29 km mountain road threading the Azuma range — spring snow corridors and stark volcanic scenery at Jododaira.
Japan’s first road to bear the name “Skyline.”
Opened in 1959, the route carves along ridgelines with dramatic engineering for its day. In spring, walls of snow line both sides of the road.
Stop at Jododaira for alpine plants and cindery moonscapes — only a 10-minute walk leads to the crater of Azuma-Kofuji for mini-hike thrills.
Some sections vent hydrogen sulfide — a reminder that beauty and volcanic power coexist here.
A 1,300-year-old onsen quarter in a gorge — the traditional “inner retreat” of Aizu.
Legend credits the monk Gyoki and a guiding three-legged crow.
In Edo times, the Matsudaira lords patronized the springs. Basho also visited; the sulfate waters are famed for skincare and neuralgia relief.
Today geigi (traditional entertainers) still perform, and four waterfalls grace the riverside promenade — history and scenery in one stroll.
An open-air museum reconstructing a chief retainer’s estate with exhibits and hands-on activities.
History comes alive — tragedy and daily life included.
The Saigo family’s 38-room manor saw grim events when 21 family members committed suicide during the Boshin War. Reconstructions, gardens, and passageways immerse you in samurai life.
Try local cuisine (kozuyu soup, herring with sansho) in the crest-marked tea room, and experience archery or painting the lucky “akabeko” cow.
The “Aizu Fuji” (1,816 m). The 1888 eruption reshaped the land and birthed the Urabandai lakes.
Landscape art by fire and water.
The eruption blew away the smaller peak and dammed rivers, forming the lakes mosaics behind the mountain. “Mt. Bandai” actually encompasses several peaks including Kushigamine and Akahaniyama.
From Happodai, expect about three hours to the summit and 360° views over Lake Inawashiro and the Azuma range. Trails also connect to historic shrines like Iwais Shrine, echoing its legacy as a sacred training ground.
More than 4,000 kura (storehouses) remain, and the city’s chewy flat noodles in light soy broth are legendary.
Storehouses as fireproof vaults — and style icons.
Whitewashed walls, black plaster, and brick kura line streets like open-air architecture museums. Ramen culture traces back to Taisho-era food stalls, with high-hydration noodles capturing the broth perfectly.
Morning ramen (“asa-ra”) is a thing — some shops open as early as 5 a.m. With one of the highest ramen-shop densities in Japan, you can alternate slurps and strolls among kura facades.
A late-Heian Amida hall with a Pure Land garden — Tohoku’s only building designated a National Treasure.
A princess’s love created a northern paradise.
Princess Toku, daughter of Fujiwara no Kiyohira, sought to echo Hiraizumi’s golden hall. The pond garden and hipped roof hall conjure Pure Land aesthetics.
The main statues (Amida triad) retain graceful Heian-period faces. When carp ripple the pond, the hall’s reflection appears like a “submerged golden hall.”
A tropical theme resort born on a former coalfield — famous Hula Girl shows and huge dome pools warmed by geothermal heat.
Turning geothermal “waste” into joy.
Hot water from the old Joban coalfield fuels pools and baths. Opened in 1966 as a miners’ recreation facility, it later soared to fame via the Hula Girls and a hit film.
After the 2011 disaster, the “Kizuna Caravan” tour brought cheer nationwide. Inside the dome: tropical conservatory, outdoor pools, and even Hawaii-imported smoothies — where onsen meets island vibes.
Dozens of ponds created by Mt. Bandai’s eruption — colors shift with minerals, pH, depth, and light.
“Five colors” means a palette, not a count.
Bishamon, Aka, Ruri, and Ao ponds each display distinct hues. White mud and blue algae layer Bishamon’s bottom, yielding pale blue in shallows and cobalt in depth — a dual gradient like a natural studio.
Through red autumn to white winter and green rebirth, boardwalks turn each pond into a seasonal exhibit. Rent a boat and drift across a living painting.
A once hard-to-reach “phantom” hot-spring valley — known for its feline stationmaster lore on the Aizu Line.
Seclusion and cat charm in one trip.
Narrow gorge routes preserved the hideaway vibe and classic wooden inns. The honorary cat stationmaster “Busu” became a local icon after the war; today the third generation “Sakura” quietly continues the role (no-photo policy).
Sulfate-rich waters pamper the skin; open-air baths overlook green ravines — the definition of an onsen getaway.
Hot-spring town and one of the birthplaces of kokeshi dolls — with multiple spring qualities and forward-looking geothermal projects.
Kokeshi craft meets sustainable energy.
Tsuchiyu-style kokeshi feature bold rings and “janome” (snake-eye) patterns; try hand-painting. A binary geothermal plant cools hot water for power, and even supports prawn aquaculture projects — tradition evolving with tech.
Local legends tie the springs to Prince Shotoku; onsen sweets and kokeshi goods make great souvenirs.
Northeast Japan’s largest environmental aquarium themed on the “meeting of currents.”
Where Oyashio and Kuroshio collide.
The vast “Shiome no Umi” tank recreates cold Oyashio and warm Kuroshio flows side-by-side — a rare sight in a single exhibit. The facility is also renowned for coelacanth research and underwater imaging achievements.
Touch pools invite hands-on learning with tidepool species, while the outdoor “Janome Beach” lets kids wade and even fry freshly caught fish — an all-senses program set.
Site of the Byakkotai youths’ tragic end, overlooking Aizu-Wakamatsu — history etched on a modest hill.
Did they mistake the castle’s fate?
Survivor Sada-kichi Iinuma later said the castle still held — suggesting despair, not visible flames, drove the suicide pact. He went on to live to 77 as a communications engineer, sharing the tale of loyalty and the value of life.
Nineteen gravestones line the slope; visit Tonokuchi Canal Tunnel and Ugajin-do Hall along the route. City views from the top align closely with those of the period — a rare historical vantage preserved.
Birth house and museum of the bacteriologist famed for yellow fever studies — grit told through artifacts.
The hearth scar that shaped a resolve.
The irori hearth burn that injured Noguchi’s left hand as a child is still visible at the house. He vowed, “Unless I achieve my ambition, I shall not tread this soil again,” and pursued global research.
Letters from his mother, written in phonetic kana and filled with longing, eventually drew him back to Japan after 15 years abroad. Interactive exhibits — a robot “doctor,” microbe games, and photo spots — make science friendly.
A private hill generously opened to the public in spring — called Fukushima’s “flower utopia.”
Goodwill grew a sea of blossoms.
The Abe family planted trees on ancestral land for decades, then opened it free. Photographer Shotaro Akiyama’s words — “There is a utopia in Fukushima” — brought national fame.
Trails (30–60 mins) lead to panoramas of the city and Azuma range; volunteer guides share stories. Cherry, forsythia, peach, and plum often blossom at once — time feels paused in color.
A white lighthouse on 73 m cliffs — a “Top 50” lighthouse you can climb, with sweeping Pacific views.
Light after darkness — fast.
First lit in 1899, destroyed in a 1938 quake, rebuilt in reinforced concrete in 1940. Post-2011 disaster, it relit in just nine months — a symbol of recovery.
Climb 103 spiral steps to the observation deck; nearby monuments (like the “Midaregami” film song stone) add cultural layers to the ocean panorama.
Drive-through safari where herbivores and big cats approach close; a rare collection of white morph animals.
White wonders.
White lions, white tigers, and even pale zebras appear here in a unique lineup. Take the dedicated bus to feed lions safely — thrilling even through glass.
Pair your safari with nearby Dake Onsen; at night, the park reveals animals’ nocturnal side on special tours.
An open hall supported by 44 pillars with no walls — an airy Heian-style structure (Important Cultural Property).
Light and wind through a sacred grid.
Ten-foot-spaced pillars hold a thatched hip roof, inviting breezes and soft light. Legends tie the site to Minamoto no Yori-yoshi; functions may have ranged from ritual to ascetic training.
An 800-year-old ginkgo beside the hall carpets the ground in gold each autumn, and fire festivals set the hall aglow — a living ritual space.
Milky white sulfur springs on the slopes of Azuma — a top-rated destination for purists who love free-flowing sources.
A pioneer of “100% free-flowing” declarations.
In 2010, Takayu publicly committed to pure, non-circulated spring water — rare even in Japan. Multiple sources (Shiraha, Akaha, and mixed) let you sample nuances as roughly 800 L/min emerge from the mountain.
Close to the Bandai-Azuma Skyline entrance, the open-air baths steam under wild mountain scenery — the scent of sulfur and a canyon view define the soak.