Cherry Blossom Season: The Best and Worst Time in Japan
Sakura spotting in Tatsuta Taisha, Nara Park, and Mt. Yoshino
Mt. Yoshino, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
My husband and I moved to Nara Prefecture at the close of April last year, a couple weeks after the last sakura petal had fallen to the ground. As the weather warmed up this spring, I was chomping at the bit to see it all: Uda, Takada Senbonzakura, the Yamato-Koriyama Castle Ruins, Mount Yoshino, and more.
My ambition was quickly slain by my wallet, that cruel bitch named Fate, and my neurodivergent hatred of crowds. Only one of the places previously listed was among our conquests. So were they worth it? Did I have a good time? Were any cherry trees damaged in my upset? Keep reading to find out.
Getting our Start at Tatsuta Taisha
It was the first of April. As the first buds emerged, a cherry blossom reconnaissance walk around town led us to Tatsuta Taisha. Being one of the oldest Shinto shrines in Japan, I’m surprised there’s not a 7/11 right next to it, in true Japanese fashion. Tatsuta Taisha enshrines the God of Wind, to whom people used to pray for safe journeys between the Yamato (Nara) and Kawachi (Osaka) Provinces. Taka and I pay a visit every season, and this spring was no exception.
The grounds aren’t large by any means, but they are exceptionally well-maintained as far as the inaka goes. A smattering of cherry trees stretch across the parking lot, and one particularly prim tree stands to the right of the main altar demanding photographs.
Other than the sakura, there are tulips, camellias, and another unknown flower species that blooms upward. I’ve taken an interest in flowers since moving to the countryside, and these bright offerings have brought me great joy during our time here.
Patrons are mostly locals, making Tatsuta Taisha a quiet, serene place for the beginning of the season. The only downside is the lack of grass for picnics, so after our meanderings, we kept it moving to other parts of the neighborhood in search of more pink hues.
Although brief, this visit got me excited for the blooms yet to come.
Dazed in Nara Park
Tatsuta Taisha was calm, but Nara Park was the opposite—as to be expected for one of the most popular destinations in Nara City. Taka had it on his hanami bucket list, so I reluctantly made the trip for the second time since moving here.
Just 30 minutes away by train, it’s a quick jaunt that comes at a cost. Just to get to the park itself involved shoving through hordes of people taking pictures of the first sakura tree they laid their eyes on. We made our way to Kasuga Taisha, where a weeping cherry tree filtered the sun rays onto the mossy Japanese stone lanterns beneath in operatic fashion. Haphazard lines were formed as people clambered to get their shots, making me feel less than original. Mt. Wakakusa supplied a reprieve from the crowds and ample deer poop on our boots. Adding to the view were two guys eating sandwiches that the deer were doing everything to get a bite of.
Once we made our way down, it was time for one last photo op: deer beneath the sakura trees with Mt. Wakakusa acting as a verdant background. Again, I found I was far from the only one who wanted this shot.
Oh, to be a deer chilling out under the sakura trees!
If I’d thought the crowds were bad before, they were out of control on the street in front of the park. Frankly, I was having flashbacks to my research on crowd crush incidents after the Itaewon Halloween crowd crush of 2022 and rushed to Naramachi for lunch.
I’m being slightly dramatic, but for good reason. Having experienced the beauty of Kasuga Taisha, Nara Park, and Mt. Wakakusa in less busy times, I can see why people travel from across the world to see it highlighted in pink. What could be better than deer frolicking underneath the sakura flowers? And certainly, we could’ve gone to the other side of Nara to less-crowded places like Todai-ji or Heijo Palace. Still, I worry for the safety of human visitors and the deer who keep them company—who, it’s worth mentioning, were looking almost mangy this time around—and I wish stricter regulations regarding crowd control and animal welfare could be passed to help preserve the area better.
Suffice it to say, Nara Park was not my favorite hanami location. I was overwhelmed, stressed out, and, most harmful of all, made to feel like I was not the world’s most unique photographer when everyone else was taking the same photos as me. Thankfully, we wrapped it up with lunch at our favorite unagi place and went home shortly thereafter, making it not such a bad day after all.
In Awe of Mt. Yoshino
My most anticipated spot for cherry blossom viewing in 2025 by far was Mt. Yoshino. Designated as a UNESCO World Heritage Site, some 30,000 cherry blossom trees explode into a carpet of pink across the mountain each year—the same length of time I’d been waiting to come here again.
I first went to Mt. Yoshino on a solo trip back in November to see the fall foliage. My husband was in Bali for a business trip, and on a rainy weekday, I made the hour and 45-minute journey to find a total of maybe 15 people on the mountain. I had the infinity onsen to myself, the tofu restaurant to myself, and took my time touring the grounds of Kinpusen-ji. The whole experience was luxurious as an autistic person who, if you haven’t guessed it by now, gets overstimulated by crowds.
Gentlest reader, can you guess whether or not that was my same experience this past Monday morning? I’m afraid the answer is no. Weekday be damned—the bottlenecking maneuver out of Yoshino Station was an honest indication of the masses to come.
Not to be defeated, I took a militant approach to the itinerary, first hitting up Hitome Senbon, the most prized viewing point opposite Yoshimizu Temple. My plan was to hit up as many viewing points as possible before descending the mountain for lunch, attempting to beat the late crowds and have Kinpusen-ji to ourselves as they were further up the path.
Unfortunately, I’d been wrong about these places being on the same path. Rather, each site was on a different offshoot, starting with Naka Senbon and Nyoirin-ji. The winding, mossy traverse uphill offered splendid views, though Nyoirin-ji itself was closed off entirely from the pink. I do like the shots of the lucky cats and samurai statues I took here, though.
I think we made it to Kami Senbon next, but I cannot be sure because, as we later discovered, people would dump all their photos from Mt. Yoshino on one point on Google Maps, rather than properly separating them, leading to confusion when trying to find the same area. With all the people, too, it was hard to find the signs. If the Japanese uncles with their expensive camera set-ups multiplying before my eyes were any indication, though, we’d made it to the right spot.
The last viewing point I wanted to reach was Oku Senbon, where I hoped to recreate an amazing photo of a red car on the winding roads between the infringing bushes of pink. It was already approaching 11:30, though, and, according to the map, it was a further 50 minutes one-way. I was sad to find out that the waterfall I’d also wanted to see was not accessible from this side, at least, not without a car. The Kawakami side would just have to wait for another day (perhaps this summer, hint hint).
Here is where I regret not grabbing some onigiri at the konbini before arriving in Yoshino, because we were forced to abandon our plan to get back down to the tofu restaurant for lunch, where we had a 20-table wait ahead of us. Yeah, the tofu was in that high of demand!
The view from Hitome Senbon was definitely worth the one-year wait!
My lesson was doubly learned when I ordered something other than what I did last time and absolutely hated it. My husband is half-Hong Kongese and I love Cantonese food, but this mapo tofu was bitter, tomatoey in the worst way, and just incompatible with my palate that day. Adding to the tragicomedy were our seats in between two windows with a view of the cherry blossoms, meaning we were the only table in the place that had a lovely view of a taupe wall after waiting around 45 minutes.
By this time, the two of us were so sick of the crowds that we bypassed the line at Kinpusen-ji (which I’d been looking forward to showing my husband) for the grounds. On my last visit, the scenery here was among my favorite. On this occasion, we went a little further downhill to Noten Daijin, which was even better. The nervous descent down hundreds of masochistically steep steps was entirely worth it for the wooded, incense-scented retreat from the chaos above.
Suspended in slight darkness, I breathed easier as I took in the colorful senbazuru. The bunches of one thousand paper cranes reminded me of Sadako and the Thousand Paper Cranes, a book that sparked my love for Japan in my early childhood. A monk strolled by, with his purple and black garments illuminated by the dim golden lanterns hanging above.
There were many sights left unseen, that might remain unseen because I don’t know how much longer we’ll live in Nara, but as I rested in that quiet place, I was content to wrap up our time in Yoshino with one last stop.
Determined to redeem my gastronomic adventures, Taka and I continued to a kudzu mochi and matcha shop near Shimo Senbon, our final viewing point for the day. Kudzu mochi, for the uninitiated, is a specialty of Nara and was exactly the “something sweet” I was craving after being unable to finish lunch. Fate once again laughed at me as the hostess told us they’d run out for the day, but I was able to have a sublime matcha latte with kudzu mochi and syrup in it. The veranda where we sipped on our boba-like drinks brought the best views of the day, and our timing was serendipitous, because there was just enough time for us to do a bit of trail running back down to the station to make the next train out.
Though I hobbled thanks to the left knee I’d busted at some point that day, we made it, just sweaty enough to feel rude for stinking up the crowded train.
Despite everything, I’d bill Mt. Yoshino as the best cherry blossom viewing I’ve done to date. During my three years in Japan, I’ve never seen anything as spectacular, and, for a mountain, it is easily accessible for those without a car or hiking experience. Even having been there twice now, I still haven’t seen everything, so I can confirm that there are plenty of places to get away from the crowds and enjoy the sakura. Just learn from my mistakes and bring your own food so your hanami time is not interrupted by a growling stomach!
The highs and lows of cherry blossom season
Although this is my fourth cherry blossom season, this is the first time I’ve traveled outside of my town in pursuit of sakura. The overinflated prices for hotels and trickiness of timing cherry blossom-centered travels in the era of climate change have killed my dreams of doing so. I’d love to see Hirosaki Castle in Aomori peeking out from beneath the petals, but it just isn’t worth the splurge for something I see every year.
On the one hand, I have the privilege of seeing all the other beautiful flowers Japan has to offer—ajisai (hydrangeas), azaleas, nemophila, and camellia, to name a few—as a year-round resident. I’m not saying that sakura are overrated, but I do wish the hype around them didn’t cause the fervor, price gauging, and over-tourism that it does. I wish that it didn’t drive everyone (myself included) to jostle for the perfect pictures over enjoying nature. I wish that the service workers weren’t so overwhelmed with too many people to serve and not enough hands on deck all because of one flower.
That being said, I can’t deny that sakura are stunning. Coming from the suburbs of Michigan where no cherry trees are to be found, I get the fanaticism from both foreign tourists and locals alike. I got caught up in the hype this year just like everyone else, driven further by the desire to capture as many places as possible for this blog. In the end, I burnt out and spent all my money, forcing me to hang up my hat.
I remember cherry blossom season last year, when I simply went to a local park where I ran regularly. I made kimchi cheese onigiri for myself and my husband to enjoy, and we had a marvelous time. Next year, I’d like to remove some of the pressure and instead take my time at some more low-key places, focusing more on the experience rather than taking pictures and leaving soon after. I’m already looking forward to it.
Up next
My birthday is coming up at the end of this month, which means it’s time for another long-awaited trip to a certain location in Mie, hopefully with a hike in the nearby national park. In May, we’ll be returning to Katsuragisan for the red azalea blooms and then going to Hong Kong. This summer, I’m hoping to do some hiking, SUP (Stand-up Paddle-boarding), and waterfall swimming in Wakayama, Yoshino-Kumano National Park, and Shiga.
The fall and winter are open, but I’m actually looking forward to summer hiking with all the green and alpine flowers I’m planning to see. Be sure to sign up for email notifications so you don’t miss all the blog posts coming up!
Access:
Tatsuta Taisha
To get to Tatsuta Taisha, take the Yamatoji Line Local (not rapid) from Namba-Osaka Station if in Osaka or Nara Station if in Nara. Tatsuta Taisha is about a 15-minute walk away from the station. If you want to do some hiking, the trailhead for Shigisan is just 1.5 kilometers further up the road.
Nara Park
You can access Nara Park via Nara Station. If coming from Osaka, take the Osaka Loop Line Yamatoji-Rapid toward Kamo Station. Nara Park is about a ten-minute walk from Nara Station. Pro tip: Nara Park is quite dusty and you will inevitably step in deer poop, so don’t wear shoes you’re too precious about.
Mt. Yoshino
From Osaka Abenobashi Station, take the Kintetsu Limited Express to Yoshino Station. You can transfer from Osaka Station by taking the Kuroshio Limited Express from Osaka Station to Tennoji before walking six minutes to Osaka Abenobashi Station. The journey will take you just over an hour and a half.
From Nara Station, you can either take the Yamatoji Line Rapid to Osaka Abenobashi Station for the fewest transfers or take the same line to Oji Station, transferring to the Wakayama Line bound for Yoshinoguchi Station, where you’ll change to the Kintetsu Limited Express for the quickest time at 1 hour, 37 minutes. Remember to tap your IC card since you’re switching to the Kintetsu Line, otherwise, you’ll have to pay in cash at the station.
The trailhead is visible from the station, and most of it is paved. If you plan to go to the offshoots such as Nyoirin-ji, hiking boots or shoes with more traction are recommended. The outbound trains are not that frequent, so plan your journey home accordingly.
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