Dive into the Art Islands of the Seto Inland Sea: An Addictive Island-Hopping Adventure

Written by Lin Kaileo

There must be some other place that makes you feel a sense of belonging after visiting: ‘Yes, this is the place. I need to come back.’ The art islands of the Seto Inland Sea are that place for me.

Yayoi Kusama’s giant pumpkin, Tadao Ando’s Chichu Art Museum, Kazuyo Sejima’s Inujima House Project, Ryue Nishizawa’s Teshima Art Museum, Hiroshi Sugimoto’s Go’o Shrine, and Shinro Ohtake’s Naoshima Bath…Travel with contemporary masters, hop on ferries between ports in Japan’s Seto Inland Sea, engage with art and nature coexisting on small islands, and receive the simple and friendly hospitality of the islanders… This is an indescribable, addictive island-hopping adventure！

A Mysterious Secondhand Bookstore with Full Reservations Only

Later, I found out that the fully reservation-only “なタ书” has been hailed as a legend in the Japanese secondhand bookstore scene.

I met my friend Sakaguchi yP from Takamatsu at “なタ书.” He recommended that I definitely visit “なタ书,” saying I’d find it interesting.

Google Maps on my phone told me the location was right in front of me, but after walking through three shopping streets, I still couldn’t find what looked like a bookstore. I walked back down one of the alleys. Earlier, I saw two or three people chatting by the road, but I didn’t approach them. The second time I passed, suddenly one of them spoke to me.

“Looking for なタ书? This is it.” Here? Where? All I could see was a tightly shut tin-roofed building, and it looked more like a back entrance than a front.

“It really is here, on the second floor. We’re also waiting for KIKI-san; he hasn’t arrived yet.” KIKI is the nickname of the owner, Fujii Yoshiyuki, whose last name ends with the sound “KI,” so everyone calls him that.

At this point, Sakaguchi yP arrived by bicycle. “k8∼” and “なタ书” still doesn’t have an official website.

Even though it’s hidden in plain sight, this mysterious little shop has still gained a reputation. The representative Japanese culture magazine BRUTUS featured “なタ书” in a special article in issue 765 titled “古書店好き” (Lovers of Secondhand Bookstores), dedicating a full page to it under the section “Places You’d Want to Visit Because of the Owner.” (Though I later heard that even after being featured, the number of visitors only increased slightly.)

I wandered through the five or six rooms of various sizes in the building, marveling at the intriguing layout hidden on the second floor of the tin-roofed structure.

“This place used to be a love hotel. But it closed down long ago,” KIKI-san said while smoking. “See, those two or three tiny rooms over there? Those were the old toilets. The space was too small and dark, and I didn’t know what to put there, so I just closed them off.”

A secondhand bookstore that used to be a love hotel—I knew this place wasn’t ordinary. KIKI-san took me to the first floor and pointed to a small wooden window less than 30 centimeters high on the wall next to the stairs. “That was the old counter. Neither the customer nor the clerk could see each other. The customer would pay outside, and the clerk would give the key inside to complete the transaction.”

Finally, let’s solve the mystery of the name “なタ书” (pronounced NataSho). It turns out it was because KIKI-san’s ex-girlfriend’s name was “ナタリー” (Natalie), and after they got married, he changed the name at his wife’s request.

What a romantic, bold, and unorthodox senior literary youth. After hearing this surprisingly laughable and touching story, I couldn’t help but wonder what past experiences had shaped his current philosophy of life.People like him usually have an elusive aura, like the wind, weaving big thoughts about drifting, wandering, and the meaning of life—but can settle into the ordinary once the trials of life fade. Though he’d probably say he used to just work at a publishing company.

As I looked at a photo I’d accidentally taken with my camera—a shot of KIKI-san sitting at the counter, backlit—Sakaguchi yP leaned over to glance at it. “KIKI-san is incredible, isn’t he? Like a fairy, even the way he talks is,” he whispered with a small smile, and I nodded vigorously.

Maybe it takes someone who exudes such mystery to create a space that radiates the same.

Shodoshima Specialty #3: Soy Sauce

Shodoshima has been producing soy sauce since the Edo period, with a history of 400 years. After World War II, the soy sauce industry flourished, which also promoted the development of tsukudani (simmered seafood) production. According to records,at its peak, the Soy Sauce Village area had as many as 400 factories. Today, about 21 remain, including century-old buildings preserved from the Meiji era that are still in use. Broadly speaking, after reorganizing villages in the areas of Maki, Yasuda, and Naowa, the collective area is referred to as “Soy Sauce Village.”

Yamanoi Shoyu (Yamanoi Soy Sauce)

Mr. Masaharu Mashima drove me through twists and turns to this place—Yamanoi Soy Sauce. I really wanted to try soy sauce ice cream, and since I asked, he kindly brought me here.

The small Yamanoi Soy Sauce operation may not look as imposing as Marukin Soy Sauce or other large manufacturers on the main roads, but it carries a deeper essence of craftsmanship. Mr. Yamamoto Yasuo, the fifth-generation owner of Yamanoi Soy Sauce, was washing barrels in the factory when we arrived and warmly welcomed us.

Established 150 years ago, Yamanoi Soy Sauce ferments all its soy sauce in cedar barrels with a diameter of 2.3 meters and a height of about 2 meters. In fact, due to the full mechanization of modern food processing, traditional old cedar barrels have gradually been phased out. Currently, across Japan, there are fewer than 4,000 active wooden barrels still in use across industries like soy sauce, miso, and sake. On Shodoshima alone, there are about 1,000 remaining wooden barrels, and Yamanoi Soy Sauce preserves 57 large and medium-sized barrels.

Mr. Yamamoto Yasuo is currently learning how to make the large cedar barrels used for brewing. Since there are very few barrel makers left, and traditional techniques may be lost without successors, the unique flavor of Yamanoi Soy Sauce might gradually disappear. Worried about this, Mr. Yamamoto has resolved to undergo training in barrel-making.

They could have used more modern machinery, but in order to preserve the taste of soy sauce passed down by their ancestors for over a century, the young fifth-generation owner, who returned from Tokyo to take over the family business, refuses to compromise easily.

"Because our family has been using these barrels to brew soy sauce for generations. Look, the barrels in the warehouse are home to hundreds of kinds of 'koji' mold. The real producers of soy sauce aren’t humans—it’s them," said Yamamoto Yasuo."But actually, it’s because we couldn’t afford metal barrels, so we just kept doing it this way. If we had the money, we probably would’ve switched by now." His honesty made us all laugh.

A staff member first took me to the back warehouse to see the soy sauce brewing barrels. If you listen quietly, you can even hear the faint bubbling sounds of the koji mold inside the large wooden barrels. These silent wooden barrels are like stubborn old fathers who have stuck to their posts their whole lives—working diligently here for a hundred years and still going strong. This kind of flavor, surely a young whippersnapper like a metal barrel could never replicate.

In front of Yamato Soy Sauce, across a small neighborhood block, there’s a tiny soy sauce tearoom that started operating. In summer, they sell soy sauce-flavored cold tofu, soy sauce pudding, and soy sauce ice cream, while in winter, they serve small charcoal-grilled soy sauce pancakes and roasted soy sauce mochi (rice cakes). There’s also coffee and black tea, as well as cute ceramic teapots, which reminded me of my childhood.

The owner treated me to one serving each of ice cream and pudding, both made with a refiltered soy sauce called "Tsuru Shoyu" (Crane Sauce)—a two-year-aged soy sauce that was extracted and brewed for another two years, taking a total of four years to produce. It had an outstanding aroma and a well-rounded umami flavor. The other variety, "Kiku Shoyu" (Chrysanthemum Sauce), made from naturally brewed Tanba black soybeans, is a dark, rich soy sauce. Whether it’s soy sauce ice cream or soy sauce pudding, both are absolutely delightful treats.

Before leaving, Mr. Yamamoto gave me a Yamato Soy Sauce apron and taught me how to tie it. Right in front of the cedar barrel signboard at the entrance, I posed for a mock craftsman-style photo. Coming to Yamato Soy Sauce without taking a commemorative photo like this just doesn’t count as a real visit.Excerpted from *Island Travel: Jumping into the Artistic Scenery of Setouchi* / Launched Culture

Author: Lin Kailuo

Blog: ‘Melancholy Carnival’, online alias: thecarol, life partner is travel expert Gong Toutoujian. Formerly worked in marketing and planning for record companies, cultural creative firms, and cafes, and was one of the organizers of the Punch Party online gathering. An untrained yet internet-addicted wordsmith. Greedily striving to balance art and travel, she realized her dream during island-hopping trips in Japan. After a decade of online writing, she finally forced out her first book in 2013.