A Rainy Visit to the Ine Funaya and Tango Tateiwa #japantravel
The Funaya of Ine are located in the Ine Bay of “Kyoto by the Sea.” The residents here live in a narrow area between the mountains and the sea, forming a unique architectural style called “Funaya.” The first floor serves as a mooring place for boats, while the second floor is for living.
The sky was gray, and a fine drizzle misted the air, casting a mysterious veil over this small fishing village tucked away in the northern part of Kyoto. In the rain, the Funaya appeared like an ink painting—fresh, tranquil, and full of charm. The seawater gently lapped against the lower parts of the Funaya, as if telling the story of how the fishermen and the sea have coexisted for generations.
Walking in the rain, the moist sea breeze brushed against our faces. Raindrops fell on the stone path, the sound of footsteps and rain blending into a harmonious symphony of nature. Through the misty rain, the distant green mountains appeared faintly, as if blending into the sea and sky. The air was filled with a serene beauty. In the rain, Ine was less noisy, more peaceful; less bustling with people, more imbued with the quiet passage of time.
The rain did not disrupt our mood; instead, it added a unique charm to the Funaya of Ine. Strolling in such rain, we felt as though we were becoming one with nature, with a calm heart, appreciating the passage of time and the tenderness of life.
Even more precious was the company of like-minded friends, sharing in the unique flavors of the rain, making the journey a joyful experience throughout.
Tateiwa, located in Kyotango City, Kyoto Prefecture, is a striking sea stack. Not only is it a natural wonder of the Tango region, but it also holds historical significance and legends. Tateiwa rises dramatically along the coast of the Sea of Japan, resembling a giant stone monument, towering over 20 meters tall. Its rugged, imposing shape was formed over time through constant erosion by the ocean, evoking a sense of solemnity and mystery.
Standing in front of Tateiwa, gazing out at the sea, we were met with turbulent waves and howling winds, evoking a sense of desolate grandeur. The waves crashing against the rocks created white sprays, like a natural symphony. The area is remote, with unpredictable weather, and few tourists visit. Our group of four stood there watching the sea, climbing the rocks, and enjoying ourselves immensely, completely unaffected by the poor weather.
That night, we rushed back to Kobe for a dinner of Kobe beef—but that’s a story for another time.