A Michelin Hideaway in the Rain — Our Spirited Sojourn to Auberge Shitsumi
Auberge Shitsumi, a coastal inn tucked in Obama (no, not *that* Obama), graced the pages of the Michelin Guide Hokuriku 2021 Special Edition. And when our friends, the Tohru couple, decided to stay there—well, how could we not follow suit?
Though we traveled separately, we began our own mini-adventure at the mountaintop park of Rainbow Line. The view? Enchantingly mysterious, cloaked in weather drama.
It was freezing—but behold! The cherry blossoms were out in full defiance of the cold. Bless my winter jacket.
With time on our hands, we made a pilgrimage to Tsunegami Shrine on the Tsunegami Peninsula. A tempest greeted us, but we bowed respectfully anyway—because that’s how you court travel karma.
Since we were already there… why not venture to the very tip of the peninsula? Ah yes, these inns—I swear I’ve been here before. Maybe with the late T-kun and the crew. But this time? Landslides, monkeys, and a ghost-town silence. Spooky.
We longed to see the mystical Goshima Island, a secret spot along the Kinki Ley Line—but alas, the rain turned our ambitions soggy. No hike today.
Back on safer roads, we cruised toward the base of the peninsula, where a quaint fishing village came into view—and there it was: Auberge Shitsumi.
Check-in time! We snagged a second-floor room with an ocean view, while Tohru’s room was on the first floor—wider windows, more lounging space. Both felt like someone’s well-kept house. Cozy, familiar… perhaps too familiar?
The lobby offered a sprinkle of traditional flair.
We were then guided to the dining area, a separate building—cue umbrella deployment.
Honestly, it felt like navigating a rural escape room.
Our guide turned out not to be staff, but a short-term traveler from the “Otetsutabi” project—exploring Japan while lending a hand. The world is definitely changing.
After a bit of downtime, we headed to dinner. This, too, was served in a beautifully remodeled old home—airy, scenic, charming.
They had a cabinet full of alcohol that made my inner bartender giddy. Might replicate that at home… someday.
First course: sashimi. Pristine simplicity.
We began with white wine—alas, no photo. Rookie mistake.
Second drink: Heartland Beer by Kirin. Crisp, reliable.
Tohru’s sake tasting flight included Hayaseura, Wakasa, and Kokuryu. I sampled each—sublime!
Next up: carpaccio.
Grilled oysters—absolutely nailed it. The cuisine wasn’t strictly Michelin-level Italian anymore; perhaps a post-COVID pivot?
Fugu soup—though they called it a hotpot. Still, not quite a hotpot.
Octopus rice, the salty exclamation point to our sea-themed meal.
By the time we wrapped up, night had fully fallen. And yes, the rain was still composing its symphony.
We fell asleep to the lullaby of waves.
Morning brought blue skies—finally. We ventured out for a stroll before breakfast.
There it was—the nostalgic sign of a bygone guesthouse era. Our room’s name, “ROOM KYUBEE,” made perfect sense now.
We reached the shore. Fishing village vibes, crystal clear.
Looking up at the dining hall from below—it’s cherry blossom season in full bloom.
And breakfast? Smoked dried fish and fermented mackerel grilled right at our table. Heavenly. The rice was cooked in a traditional pot—warmth in every bite.
I usually skip breakfast—but I devoured it all.
And that, my friends, was our coastal escape.
“Live, travel, adventure, bless, and don’t be sorry.” — Jack Kerouac
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