Japan’s Izu Peninsula Is Considered the Birthplace of Wasabi

The scent of wasabi wafted faintly in the air as I walked by terraces filled with the distinctive plants in Japan’s Izu Peninsula. The cool, shady mountain slopes were ideal for hiking, and abundant natural springs provided just the right environment for growing the area’s famed wasabi. During the trip, my trekking companions and I didn’t just admire wasabi growing—we ate it just about every way possible, from a freshly grated dollop atop vanilla soft-serve ice cream to sprinkled over bowls of steaming soba buckwheat noodles with mountain yam and local vegetables.

I was on a weeklong hiking trip with Walk Japan to explore the Izu Peninsula, which is known not just for its wasabi and other delicious local cuisine, but also for its waterfalls, hiking, scenic coastal views, and incredible onsens. “It really is a hidden gem inside Japan,” says John Sweeney, who lives in Izu and has been a Walk Japan tour leader for eight years. “It’s well known to Japanese people, but to foreign tourists, the peninsula is still relatively unknown.”

To reach the Izu Peninsula, my group met our guide at Tokyo Station and hopped a train to Izu-Kogen, where we explored a small geological museum before heading out on our first hike. We walked and saw clifftop pine trees shaped by the wind—reminiscent of Japanese artwork—and listened to waves crashing on the rocks and reverberating through sea caves. That night, we soaked in an open-air onsen with views of the Pacific.

Each day, we walked with constantly changing scenery, from terraces of growing wasabi plants, to gorgeous coastal cliffs, to the Kawazu Seven Waterfalls hike through a gorge with a seemingly endless parade of falling water.

On the fifth day of our trip, we summited a mountain to a viewpoint where we saw a tiny glimpse of Mt. Fuji’s flanks poking out from behind a shroud of clouds. The rest of the sacred mountain—Japan’s tallest peak—was hidden, but our guide encouraged us to be patient. Find a spot to rest and relax, he said. Just wait.

“In your busy life, you don’t have much time to wait for clouds to pass,” he said. So, we sat and breathed in the forest’s earthy scent, appreciated the vibrant colors, and listened to the gentle breeze.

Eventually, our patience was rewarded. The clouds parted, and Fuji-san emerged to show off its snowcapped peak before the clouds once again obscured it from view, leaving us instead to admire Suruga Bay below.

The coast was intertwined with every aspect of our time on Izu Peninsula, from watching waves crash on seaside rocks and inhaling the salty sea scent to seeing shrines nestled by the water, like at Shirahama Shrine’s torii gate.

The proximity to the ocean also shaped what we ate each day, including the meals we enjoyed at traditional ryokan inns. Sweeney said many of the meals during the trip are in “kaiseki style, which focuses on seasonality and what's around the peninsula.”

These delicious multicourse feasts focused on local seafood like sea bream, lobster, squid, and crab, with wasabi prominently featured on some menus, of course. We had a wasabi hot pot dinner with Amagi gamecock soup and local vegetables, as well as delicacies like fresh grilled bamboo shoot, sashimi with Amagi wasabi, steamed scallop dumplings, stewed cherry blossom radish, and an array of desserts such as black rice jelly and strawberries and fresh cream.

Before setting out for our hike one day, we stopped at one of the last remaining traditional katsuobushi bonito flake factories. There, fifth-generation proprietor Yasuhisa Serizawa carries on the tradition with his family’s Kanesa Dried Bonito Store, founded in 1882. Serizawa uses traditional methods to produce katsuobushi, and he hosts workshops to teach visitors like us about the history and production methods. He showed us his factory, and told us about his method of salt preservation before pulling out a tool resembling a planer and shaving off paper-thin slices of the flavorful salty dried fish for us to enjoy. While katsuobushi used to be made all over Japan, only a few producers remain today, so it was a special treat to see his family’s work.

Our days on the Izu Geo Trail were full of learning, hiking, and eating delicious local foods, and I always looked forward to soaking in the onsens that were often available at the ryokans where we stayed. These ranged from shared, open-air hot springs to a ryokan with private in-room onsens, where I soaked by the large open window while watching a storm roiling the sea outside.

Watching ocean waves, listening to the crashing sounds of the ocean, soaking in hot onsens, inhaling fragrant growing wasabi, and tasting the incredible seafood all helped me slow down and engage my senses in the Izu Peninsula. It’s also a great place to watch and wait on the clouds—they might just part and provide a perfect peek at Mt. Fuji.