Hidden Gems: Small Towns Around Kyoto You Can't Miss

After living in Kyoto for three years now, I've become somewhat obsessed with exploring the smaller towns that dot the surrounding countryside. While everyone flocks to the famous temples and bamboo groves of the city proper, some of the most magical experiences I've had have been in these quieter places that most tourists never even hear about.

I remember my first trip to one of these towns happened almost by accident. I'd missed my train connection and ended up stranded in what I thought was the middle of nowhere. Turns out, that "nowhere" was actually one of the most charming places I'd ever stumbled upon, and it completely changed how I think about exploring this region.

Kurama has to be my absolute favorite discovery. It's only about 30 minutes north of central Kyoto, but it feels like you've stepped into a completely different world. The town sits nestled in a forested valley, and honestly, the train ride there on the Eizan Electric Railway is half the experience. During autumn, which just passed a few months ago, the journey felt like traveling through a tunnel of fire-colored leaves.

What I love most about Kurama is how it manages to feel both spiritual and earthy at the same time. The famous Kurama-dera temple complex is definitely worth the hike up the mountain, but I actually prefer just wandering the village streets below. There's this tiny onsen called Kurama Onsen where I've spent countless evenings soaking in outdoor baths while snow fell around me. The locals there have gotten used to seeing me show up with my terrible Japanese and patient smile.

The hike from Kurama to Kibune is something I do at least once a month when the weather's decent. It takes about two hours through mountain trails, and you end up in another magical little town famous for its riverside dining platforms called kawadoko. During summer, restaurants set up these elevated platforms right over the Kibune River, and you can eat traditional kaiseki cuisine while listening to the water flow beneath your feet. I'll admit, it's not cheap, but it's one of those experiences that justifies the splurge.

Mountain Towns That Stole My Heart

Ohara is another gem that's become a regular escape for me. It's about an hour northeast of Kyoto, and the bus ride there winds through some absolutely stunning mountain scenery. What drew me to Ohara initially was Sanzen-in temple, which has these incredible moss gardens that look especially magical after rain. But I keep going back for the whole atmosphere of the place.

The town has this wonderfully rural feel that's hard to find so close to a major city. I've made friends with an elderly woman who runs a small pickled vegetable shop there, and she always insists on giving me samples of whatever she's just finished preparing. Her tsukemono are honestly better than anything I've found in Kyoto's fancy department stores, though I'd never tell my city friends that.

One thing I particularly love about Ohara is how the seasons feel more pronounced there. Spring brings incredible cherry blossoms without the crowds, summer offers cool mountain air as an escape from Kyoto's brutal humidity, autumn turns the entire valley into a patchwork of reds and golds, and winter blankets everything in pristine snow. I've photographed the same temple gate in all four seasons now, and each shot looks like it was taken in a completely different location.

Arashiyama is technically part of Kyoto, but it feels like its own separate town, especially if you venture beyond the famous bamboo grove that everyone photographs. Yes, the bamboo forest is beautiful, but it's also incredibly crowded most of the time. I prefer exploring the quieter parts of Arashiyama, particularly the areas around Tenryu-ji temple and the less-visited temples scattered throughout the district.

The Hozu River runs through Arashiyama, and taking a boat ride down from nearby Kameoka is one of my favorite ways to see the changing seasons. The boat operators are characters – they sing traditional songs and point out wildlife along the way. I've done this trip probably six times now, and I still discover new details about the landscape each time.

Discovering the Unexpected

Uji deserves way more attention than it gets. Most people know it only for matcha tea, and while the tea culture there is incredible, the town has so much more to offer. It's only about 30 minutes south of Kyoto, making it perfect for day trips. Byodo-in temple, featured on the 10-yen coin, sits right in the heart of town and is genuinely one of the most beautiful temple complexes I've ever seen.

But what really won me over in Uji was the food scene. The town's obsession with matcha means you can find green tea incorporated into everything from noodles to tempura batter. There's this little shop called Nakamura Tokichi that's been making matcha since 1854, and their parfaits are almost too beautiful to eat. Almost.

I spent an entire day last spring just walking along the Uji River, watching cormorant fishing demonstrations and chatting with locals in riverside parks. The pace of life there feels noticeably slower than Kyoto, even though you're still technically in a fairly urban area.

Nara might seem like an obvious choice since it's a former capital, but I'm including it because many people only visit for a few hours to see the deer park and leave. That's a huge mistake, in my experience. The town has incredible depth if you give it time. I've started staying overnight there occasionally, and the experience is completely different when the day-trippers leave.

Early morning walks through Nara Park, when mist rises off the ponds and the deer are calm and curious rather than aggressively seeking crackers, feel almost mystical. The temples and shrines scattered throughout the park reveal different personalities depending on the time of day and season.

What really surprised me about these small towns is how each one has developed its own distinct character despite being so close to each other. Kurama feels mystical and forest-like, Ohara agricultural and grounded, Uji sophisticated in its tea culture, and Nara ancient and dignified. Each offers a different lens for understanding this region's incredible cultural richness.

These places have taught me that some of the best travel experiences happen when you slow down and give places time to reveal themselves. Rather than checking locations off a list, I've found that returning to the same places multiple times, in different seasons and moods, has given me a much richer understanding of what makes this area so special.