A few weeks ago—on Halloween day, in fact—I went on one of the most beautiful hikes I’ve ever been on, in the Kiso Valley. The Kiso Valley is nestled among the Japanese Alps in Nagano prefecture.

A friend and I hiked from the town of Magome to the town of Tsumago, on the old Nakasendo highway (an ancient road that connected Tokyo to Kyoto—think of the Via Appia in ancient Rome, but substitute udon for whatever it is that Romans ate).

Both Magome and Tsumago are historic, carefully restored post-towns, resting points along the Nakasendo highway for travelers during the Edo era. The hike between them was only about 2.5 hours long (my kind of hike!), on well-maintained trails, and took us through forests and farmland, up and down through a mountain pass, and past waterfalls and small sleepy neighborhoods. The trees were not as red as they were in my last post in Takao, but they were, nevertheless, oh-so-pretty in their lushness and greenness.

Magome is bigger and more bustling than Tsumago. Its main street was full of craft shops, snack shops, restaurants, and tourists.

It was a sunny day, and even the man-sized Hello Kitty rice crackers on display seemed to smile at me (maybe because they were, in fact, smiling. Okay, not the Hello Kitty one, but the Doraemon one most definitely).

Before starting any hike, it's essential to eat right. And what better way to eat before a hike than with soba? (Actually, udon would be better, but soba seems to be much more common in the Nagano area.) The soba we had was delicious, complete with an egg, mushrooms, seaweed, and a pureed mixture of yam that you pour into the soba noodles and makes the soup strangely fizzy.

Shortly after we left Magome, we went up one section of the trail that was paved with red and white stones. It took me a second before realizing that they had paved the path to look like it was covered with cherry blossom petals.

This is the kind of thing that just gets me about Japan—there is so much care taken to make things beautiful in a detailed, thoughtful way. Being lucky enough to come from a gorgeous part of California, I've often seen a lot of natural beauty, but not such meticulous beauty. Did I mention that, at the Ginkaku-ji temple in Kyoto a few weeks ago, I saw a man dusting the rocks in the Zen garden?

Along the hike, we passed by waterfalls and streams and crossed wooden bridges.

Speaking of detail and thoughtfulness, we also passed by a wooden fountain, complete with a set of porcelain cups, where you could stop for water.

Tsumago is a tiny, quaint town, and perhaps because of its size and the smaller number of tourists there--it was almost dusk by the time we arrived--it felt more personal than Magome. We stayed for a night at a historic ryokan, Matsushiro-ya, which first opened in 1804.

Being historic and traditional, the inn had tatami rooms complete with sliding paper doors (note: paper makes for thin walls).

Our stay included dinner and breakfast. Dinner, as expected, was the more elaborate of the two meals—including local specialties such as carp sashimi, river fish with a glazed sauce (as well as miscellaneous fish parts stuffed inside it), and numerous smaller appetizers of tofu and preserved vegetables.

Similar to what I had in Takao, there was also an unhappy-looking grilled, salted river fish pouting at me.

The food was not the best I’ve had in Japan, but decent and filling in a home-style, yet still elaborate sort of way.

After dinner, we went outside to explore Tsumago by night. The main street was deserted, dark, and cold. It was quiet, except for the occasional tourists we passed, some of whom wore yukata and clanking wooden clogs, or geta, from whichever ryokan they were staying at. It felt peaceful, and yet spooky, too. My camera didn't do too well capturing the dark street, but it did capture the street lanterns.

The inn owner also gave us a lantern to light our way.

The next day, I took a morning walk in Tsumago by myself. It was misty and drizzly, and the shop owners were just beginning to start their day. I felt like I had the whole town to myself.

When we left Tsumago, we hiked to the nearby town of Nagiso to take the train home. The trail passed right through the grounds of a Buddhist temple. We stopped there to rest and just to admire the autumn scenery and the mountains nearby.

I've been in Japan for nearly four months now. The weather is changing to an intense cold, and homesickness sometimes feels just around the corner. But having quiet moments in hidden temples--that makes up just one of the unanticipated reasons I came here on this adventure.

Below: Pictures from my morning walk in Tsumago and also more hiking pictures.