Back in July 2016 we went on our first trip to see a house for sale in Japan. It was a relatively spur-of-the-moment decision after some casual perusal online of the various housing portals that exist in Japan (more on that in a later blog).
The house was in a quiet, leafy suburb of Osaka city called Shijonawate. Neither of us had ever been there before but we found it to be relatively well-situated, just 14 minutes from Kyobashi Station on the Katamachi Line. It was, however, quite a trek from the station to the house - a 20 minute uphill walk according to Google Maps.
Since we were unfamiliar with the area, our friendly English-speaking local estate agent (from whom we found our current rental apartment) offered to take us there by car, which saved us slogging uphill through the summer heat. This afforded plenty of opportunity for discussion and questions on the way. It quickly became apparent that he was as intrigued as we were about this particular property.
Whilst there had been a number of pictures online, it was difficult to really ascertain the scope and scale of the plot and the house atop it. This was made even more difficult due to the fact that the plot was actually one huge piece of land with three properties on it, each crudely demarcated from the others by a line on the plan but, as it would turn out, with no obvious physical boundary in real life.
We were looking at Plot C, which came in under our notional budget and supposedly boasted a whopping 500m2 of land with a 200m2 house in the middle. This is absolutely huge by Japanese standards and the idea of having a garden and outside space was instantly appealing. Beyond the house, there were also two outbuildings, a Kura (蔵) which is a traditional storage space, and a small tea house! Apparently the plot had been used for commercial purposes as a kind of company retreat.
The house was a wooden-structured large rectangle built in a semi-traditional style and made of wood in 1976. This mean that it was built before a major earthquake regulations revision which occurred in 1981. Although the structure appeared to be remarkably sturdy for such an old building (in Japan, 40 years old is an ancient house), both Yuko and I had some concerns about how it would fare should a major earthquake hit.
Inside, the house had been built and furnished to a very high standard but very little had been done to it in the last 25 years. It was clear to see that the previous owners had spent a lot of money on it initially but that the mod cons installed in the 70s and 80s were no longer fit for purpose. It would have required a complete and costly refit of the entire ground floor, with the upstairs fairing no better.
As we quickly did the Maths in our heads, we could see that this would have proved to be a very expensive undertaking indeed. Furthermore, there were only two rooms upstairs, which would have either necessitated some fairly quirky living arrangements or a large scale extension and renovation of the upper floor.
Outside, things were considerably better. The tea-house would have made for the most wonderful guesthouse and was already replete with running water and electricity. The front could have easily been opened up to provide an outside deck and it would have been such a unique and fantastic space for visitors to stay.
Equally amazing was the garden which extended all around the house in a semi-traditional Japanese style. The garden was complete with beautiful trees, rock formations and a large wooden water wheel. The previous owner had set up an elaborate system of pipes and pumps so that water could be pumped around the garden but no doubt the hassle of keeping it operating resulted in his admitting defeat. When we visited the house we could see the pipes but, alas, no water except for that coming from the fast-flowing river behind the house.
As we sat on the bench outside the the genkan (玄関), a traditional Japanese house entrance, sipping tea kindly provided by the enthusiastic seller's agent, we imagined ourselves living in this Ghibli-esque environment. We opted to walk to the station (downhill) to see the local area and mull over our first impressions. We both loved what we thought the place could be like and, in particular, the tea house and the garden. Shijonawate seemed like an interesting, albeit quiet neighbourhood and the train connection into town was great.
However, the walk to the station was a long 20 minutes in the summer heat and would have been nightmarish in the other direction. We were glad to find our estate agent waiting at the station, AC running on full blast to take us back to the city.
After a couple of days, we made our decision not to proceed with the Ghibli house. It was simply going to be too much work and there were too many other reasons to say no, not least the fact that this was the first house we had been to see. Nevertheless, it proved to be a worthwhile and fulfilling experience and has acted as a catalyst to our current search. I'm sure someone will be very happy living there - it just wasn't quite for us.
The large garden with wooden water wheel.
The tea house.
A traditional tatami living room with wood and paper panel doors.
The house had a urinal! Complete with strange stone foot wells.
The kitchen was a luxury setup in its day but it hasn't aged well. The large oven is an expensive luxury in Japan.
The most modern addition to the house - an onsen style shower room with window to the outside world.
The main hallway off which all the rooms are situated.
The parking space below the Kura storage area.
The house and its beautiful surroundings.
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