2-2 Traditional Crafts and Travel Planning

— A Spark of Inspiration —

The Sakura Tour

Tabina looked over the itinerary she had just finished for the “Tokyo Sakura Tour” and praised herself quietly in her heart.

“It turned out well,” she thought. “I’ll ask Heidi to check it.”

She suddenly remembered: When she had first come to this company, the cherry blossoms along the Sumida River were in bloom.

It had been six months since she joined. She had assisted with tour planning and tour guiding, and had even obtained her Domestic Travel Services Manager certification. Just a little— but she felt she was becoming useful.

Yet the assignment she received on her first day— to “plan a tour about Japanese culture and traditional crafts”— still felt impossible.

“I have no idea how to even start.”

Searching for a Way into Traditional Crafts

She researched traditional crafts online, visited department stores, museums, and Aoyama Square to see real pieces.

Beautiful, delicate textiles. Pottery with a presence born from countless artistic expressions. Every traditional craft was extraordinary— and all were created by human hands.

But in her mind, she could not picture the people who made them nor the people who used them.

The world of artisans felt too deep— too vast— for someone like her to approach.

With no knowledge or experience, how could she possibly design a travel plan themed around traditional crafts?

October Blues

“Tabina-san, you’ve been staring at your computer with empty eyes. Did you catch the October Blues?”

Heidi was smiling, holding her favorite floral coffee cup.

“Though you don’t seem like the type,” she added.

“October… blues?” Tabina’s mind was still consumed by traditional crafts.

Heidi set her cup on the table, stopped smiling, and leaned in to look into Tabina’s eyes.

“October Blues,” she explained. “It’s when new employees or new students who started in April push through summer under a lot of stress, and when October finally brings a bit of calm, the seasonal change makes them feel unwell.”

Just then, the door to the kitchenette opened.

“I’m back!”

Heidi’s face brightened at once.

“Sake-shō-san! What did you bring us today?” Sensei asked, eyes still locked on his computer. It was his usual line whenever Sake-shō-san returned from a trip.

“Chestnut sweets and namazake. The namazake is already in the fridge.”

He pointed toward the kitchenette.

“We’ll all taste it this weekend. It’s Maru-san’s request whenever I go on business trips.”

Tabina blinked.

“You went to Saitama to buy fresh salmon?”

The entire room erupted in laughter.

“Sake can also be ‘raw,’ you know. Namazake means unpasteurized Japanese sake.”

She could not understand how sake could be “raw” or why it had to be refrigerated.

“Raw…?” she murmured.

But before she voiced her question, Sake-shō-san continued speaking.

A Field of Red Blossoms

“I went to Kinchakuda today— according to the brochure, it’s called Kinchakuda Manjushage Park. It was amazing. Next year, I want to make a tour combining chestnut picking and chestnut sweets.”

He placed his DSLR camera on the desk and connected it to the computer.

On the screen appeared a sea of brilliant red cluster amaryllis.

“Manjushage—also called Higanbana—is a flower that usually blooms around the autumn equinox. In Hidaka City, where Kinchakuda is located, you can pick chestnuts until around the end of September. But due to the recent heat, the flowers no longer bloom during the equinox. This year, they were at their peak in early October. Chestnut season had already ended.”

The photos—changing one after another—brought gasps from everyone.

“They say ‘Manjushage’ comes from a Sanskrit word meaning ‘a flower that blooms in heaven.’ There are about five million of these heavenly flowers here.”

The scenery on the screen was impossibly quiet, impossibly beautiful— too perfect to be real.

The red flowers overwhelmed the presence of people, making it impossible to imagine the crowds that must have visited. Anyone who came here would surely be moved by their beauty, their energy, and the sense of leaving the everyday world behind.

A Memory Returns

Then Tabina remembered.

When she saw traditional crafts for the first time, she felt the same thing— beauty, energy, and a sense of the extraordinary.

Traditional crafts were wonderful. But buying them—or using them—felt impossible for her. So seeing them was like meeting the extraordinary, just like these flowers.

But traditional crafts were more than that. They carried the techniques of people she couldn’t even imagine.

Even if she couldn’t buy them or use them— could she create a journey that connected traditional crafts with everyday life?

Then her thoughts returned to something else.

By the way… what is namazake?