Fukuoka (福岡市, Fukuoka-shi) is the capital city of Fukuoka Prefecture and is situated on the northern shore of the island of Kyushu in Japan. Ranked as the ...
Uncovering the Secrets of Fukuoka
Hajime Kimura for The New York Times
For the city's famous ramen, head for a yatai, or street cart.
By
INGRID K. WILLIAMS
Published: August 24, 2012
THE crowd at Akatan, a narrow, standing bar in the southern Japanese
city of Fukuoka, thickened as each glass of sake and shochu was poured.
By midnight, strangers had swept my husband, Dave, and me — the only
Western faces in the smoky bar — into alcohol-fueled conversations that,
with the language barrier, often devolved into comical pantomime. Every
time we explained that we were visiting Fukuoka as tourists, the same
question arose: “But why?”
Hajime Kimura for The New York Times
Tenjin, one of several notable shopping neighborhoods.
Hajime Kimura for The New York Times
A beach in the Fukuoka area.
Hajime Kimura for The New York Times
A shop selling handmade purses.
Despite its many assets, relatively few tourists have discovered
Fukuoka. But with a multitude of new transport links, that may soon
change.
Cruise ships began docking in the port three years ago, joining ferries
from South Korea and China. In 2011, the Kyushu Shinkansen high-speed
rail line was completed, linking Fukuoka to Kagoshima, on the southern
tip of Kyushu. And this year, two new low-cost airlines, Peach Aviation
and AirAsia Japan, have started flying to Fukuoka from Osaka and Tokyo,
respectively.
To explore the subtle appeal of this often overlooked city, I turned to
two local experts, Nick Szasz, a Canadian and 22-year Fukuoka resident,
and his wife, Emiko, a Fukuoka native. They run Fukuoka Now, a bilingual
monthly magazine with a comprehensive online city guide (
fukuoka-now.com).
Over dinner at the upscale restaurant Yakitori-Hachibei, they told me
that Fukuoka has long had a reputation among the Japanese as a great
place to live. But it is not thought of as a holiday destination, partly
because it lacks a standout attraction.
“The biggest crisis for this city is defining an identity,” Mr. Szasz
said. “What we have is great, but how can we brand this?”
What Fukuoka does have — a little bit of everything — is pretty
enticing. West of the city center is the manicured Ohori Park, whose
wide walking, jogging and biking paths encircle a lovely artificial
lake. On its periphery is the Fukuoka Art Museum, with a plump Yayoi
Kusama pumpkin sculpture plopped out front. Nearby is a hilltop with
castle ruins and views across the city to Hakata Bay, which is partly
lined by a wide beach, also artificial.
(Getting an overview of the city became easier last year, with the
introduction of boat tours on the Naka River. Also, in March bus tours
with multilingual commentary were inaugurated.)
An easy 25-minute train trip takes you to Dazaifu, a city with
impressive cultural sights. During our early-spring visit, plum blossoms
framed the town’s Tenmangu Shrine. A short stroll from there is the
Kyushu National Museum, one of Japan’s four national museums, which
opened in 2005. Its exterior, a soaring cerulean glass facade that
reflects the lush vegetation-covered hills, houses stunning exhibition
halls packed with ancient treasures.
But even finer than these sights are Fukuoka’s intangibles: the
laid-back atmosphere, the friendly people, the relaxed pace of a city
large enough, with about 1.4 million people, to have its own attractions
but not so large as to be overwhelming.
So, compared with navigating Tokyo’s busy subway system or hurrying to
visit one last shrine in Kyoto before closing time, taking in the sights
in Fukuoka actually feels like a vacation. It’s one that may be spent
sipping locally roasted coffee at Manu, a welcoming coffee shop with
neon-yellow walls, mellow music and piles of design magazines. Or
lounging on the low banquettes, cocktail in hand, at Bar Klug, an
elegant, cavelike hideaway.
Even shopping has an unhurried quality. Sure, big-name brands are on
offer in the trendy Daimyo neighborhood and the bustling Tenjin area,
where a Barneys New York opened last year. Across town, the JR Hakata
City complex packs two department stores and more than 200 shops and
restaurants into 11 floors.
But it’s possible to skip those stores altogether and browse back-street
boutiques in the quiet Imaizumi neighborhood, poking around shops like
Naif, Dice & Dice, Curve and Florent to unearth delicate handmade
bracelets, leather-bound notebooks, bags fashioned out of seat belts,
suede T-strap sandals and racks of clothing bearing labels from local
designers and Lanvin alike. Fukuoka’s shopping scene led Monocle
lifestyle magazine to dub it Retail City.
“Frankly, I don’t think that’s right,” Mr. Szasz said at dinner at
Yakitori-Hachibei. “Gourmet City would be closer to the truth.”
The outstanding yakitori we ate that night, including sake-spritzed
skewers of plump chicken, ginkgo nuts and edamame croquettes, supported
his claim, as did the succulent gyoza, a local specialty, at Yuu Shin a
few nights later. There, the diminutive dumplings were seared to a
delicate crisp and served sizzling in the cast-iron skillet.
The dish the city is most famous for, however, is not high end, or even
close. It’s Hakata ramen, made with thin noodles and rich tonkotsu (pork
bone) broth. (Hakata, once a separate city, is a ward of Fukuoka.)
I was schooled in slurping by Patrick Mackey, a local blogger,
ramen-lover and freelance translator, over piping hot bowls at Shin
Shin.
“For ramen, most people say Fukuoka is the best,” he said. Two of
Japan’s most famous ramen chains, Ichiran and Ippudo, hail from the
city.
But the one can’t-miss dining experience in Fukuoka is yatai.
Yatai are tiny street food carts that are constructed (and
deconstructed) nightly. Plastic curtains typically enclose a bare-bones
kitchen and minuscule counter around which no more than a dozen or so
diners can cram. Many yatai serve basic fare like grilled
things-on-sticks or ramen; some supplement counter seating with folding
tables and chairs.
“Yatai used to be all over Japan,” Mr. Szasz said. “In Fukuoka, they’ve hung on in great numbers.”
Today, there are about 150 operating yatai in Fukuoka, with most
clustered along main roads, parks and the riverfront. Because of a law
that bans the opening of new yatai, those numbers are dwindling, said
Mr. Szasz, who serves on a committee created to review the law. He
expressed optimism, however, that it might soon be reversed, noting that
Fukuoka’s new mayor, Soichiro Takashima, views yatai as a tourism draw.
With their curtains drawn, yatai can seem exclusive, for regulars only. The opposite is true.
“It’s a community experience: part the curtains, sit down and you’re
with friends,” Mr. Szasz said. “Once you’re in there, it’s like a
mini-party.”
And a mini-party it was when Dave and I squeezed onto a bench at the
popular yatai Ajifu on Watanabe-dori on a cold weekday night. Inside, 10
other diners, all local people, were tucked around the U-shaped
counter. Cigarette smoke commingled with the familiar aroma of ramen
broth as we sipped cold Asahi beers and devoured yakitori pulled from
the grill outside. And much like at the sake-and-shochu bar Akatan, we
were soon among friends.