🏮 What if you could step inside a working workshop where artisans have been making paper by hand for 1,500 years—and try it yourself?
In Echizen City, Fukui Prefecture, traditional craftspeople aren't just preserving ancient techniques. They're opening their doors to travelers, turning centuries-old workshops into living museums. Here's how "craft tourism" is breathing new life into one of Japan's most concentrated craft regions.
A City Where Seven Crafts Live Within a 6-Mile Radius
Echizen City sits in central Fukui Prefecture, a region that until recently was somewhat off the beaten path for international visitors. That changed when the Hokuriku Shinkansen bullet train extended to the area in 2024, putting Echizen within roughly three hours of Tokyo with no transfers required.
What makes this small city remarkable is its density of living craft traditions. Within a radius of just 10 kilometers (about 6 miles), seven distinct traditional industries coexist: Echizen washi (handmade paper), Echizen uchihamono (forged blades), Echizen tansu (wooden cabinetry), Echizen shikki (lacquerware), Echizen yaki (ceramics), eyeglasses, and textiles. Each has been passed down through generations of artisans, and many workshops are now actively welcoming visitors.
This isn't the kind of tourism where you watch a staged demonstration behind a rope. In Echizen, you walk into real, working workshops—places where craftspeople are making products for actual clients—and they pause to show you what they do, explain why it matters, and let you try it with your own hands.
Echizen Washi: 1,500 Years of Papermaking, Now with Vegetables
Echizen washi is one of Japan's most revered handmade papers, with a history stretching back roughly 1,500 years. The city even has a shrine dedicated to a paper deity—Okamoto Otaki Shrine, said to be the only shrine in Japan that enshrines a god of paper.
Igarashi Paper Mill, founded in 1919, is one of the workshops welcoming visitors. Company president Kozo Igarashi explains that what sets Echizen washi apart is its custom-made nature. Famous Japanese painters like Yokoyama Taikan and Hirayama Ikuo used Echizen washi that was crafted specifically to their requirements. Unlike mass-produced paper, each sheet is made by hand, resulting in an extraordinary range of textures and qualities.
During workshop tours, visitors can watch young artisans practice "nagashi-zuki," a traditional paper-scooping technique where liquid pulp is rocked back and forth on a bamboo screen. Becoming proficient enough to simply scoop paper takes two to three years of training, but achieving the subtle art of "jiai"—the uniform density, texture, and feel that defines quality washi—requires at least a decade.
The paper industry faces real challenges. With Japanese architecture shifting away from traditional styles, demand for fusuma (sliding door panels) and wallpaper—the mill's main products—has been declining steadily. Raw materials are also becoming scarce: kozo (mulberry), mitsumata, and gampi, the three plants traditionally used to make washi, have seen dramatic drops in harvest volumes.
In response, Igarashi Paper Mill developed "Food Paper," an innovative sustainable paper made from discarded vegetables and fruits. The idea originated from the youngest son's school science project, where he spent five years experimenting with making paper from food scraps. His mother, Masami Igarashi—a certified traditional craft artisan—took that research and turned it into a commercial product line. Today, Food Paper stationery made from onions, grapes, carrots, and other produce is sold through major Japanese retailers.
Visitors can experience both traditional paper-scooping and "sumi-nagashi" (ink marbling), where colored inks are floated on water to create wave-like patterns that are then transferred onto paper. About half of visitors are international, many coming from Europe, the US, and Taiwan. Masami notes that many international visitors already know about Echizen washi's quality before they arrive. With the Shinkansen extension, she now receives inquiries from people saying, "I'm currently in Kanazawa—can I come visit tomorrow?"
The workshop accommodates 4 to 6 groups per day for roughly one-hour sessions. Between experience fees and shop sales, tourism has become a meaningful revenue stream. Social media posts by visitors are also bringing in new guests organically.
Echizen Tansu: Nail-Free Cabinetry Meets Modern Design
Echizen tansu are traditional Japanese wooden cabinets built without using a single nail—a joinery technique refined during the late Edo period (mid-1800s). These pieces are characterized by their remarkable sturdiness, beautiful lacquer finishes, and decorative iron fittings.
Koyanagi Tansu Shop, founded in 1907, has carried on these traditions for over a century. Fourth-generation master craftsman Norikazu Koyanagi explains that Echizen tansu requires mastery of three entirely different materials and skills: woodworking joinery (sashimono), lacquer coating, and iron fitting decoration. Interestingly, the lacquer technique connects to Echizen's broader lacquerware tradition, while the metalwork connects to the blade-forging heritage—illustrating how the city's crafts form an interconnected ecosystem.
While honoring tradition, Koyanagi has also launched a contemporary brand called "Kicoru," producing products like wooden iPhone speakers and deliberately unstackable building blocks called "TSUMENKI" designed as educational toys. He's also collaborated with product designers to create art cabinets that have earned recognition both domestically and internationally.
In 2015, Koyanagi renovated his shop to include glass-walled windows into the workshop. "When people started saying 'experiences over things,' I realized we needed to show what we do," he explains. "Without seeing the process, people can't understand the value."
Foreign visitors—often older couples or groups of artists with professional interest in the craft—now make up about half of workshop visitors. A popular experience involves using a traditional Japanese hand plane (kanna) to chamfer hinoki cypress wood. For many international visitors, the Japanese technique of pulling—rather than pushing—a plane is a revelation. Some visitors are more interested in the tools themselves than the finished product, reflecting what Koyanagi sees as a deep "DIY culture and respect for tools" in Western countries.
Koyanagi can only accommodate about 3 to 4 workshop visits per month due to the demands of his actual production work. But he envisions creative future offerings: "Imagine a tour where parents build a study desk with their child before school starts, or a newlywed couple crafts a table together during their trip."
Echizen Uchihamono: 700 Years of Forging, Now a Global Phenomenon
Echizen uchihamono (forged blades) boasts approximately 700 years of history, originating from techniques brought by a swordsmith from Kyoto. The craft evolved into everyday tools—kitchen knives, sickles, hatchets—known for their exceptional strength and sharpness, achieved through traditional hand-forging methods.
Takefu Knife Village represents the heart of this tradition. The cooperative was founded when 10 young craftsmen pooled their resources—each contributing about $190,000 (approximately 30 million yen at the time)—to build a shared workshop and save their dying craft. Cheap mass-produced stamped blades and stainless steel were driving traditional forged knives toward extinction.
A turning point came through collaboration with Kazuo Kawasaki, a world-renowned industrial designer from Fukui. He introduced the concept of industrial design to the cooperative, helping them create branded products that combined traditional forging with contemporary aesthetics. Multiple products won Good Design Awards, putting Echizen blades on the map.
Today, 14 companies operate within the cooperative, sharing a workshop space where visitors can freely watch craftsmen forging, grinding, and polishing blades. The viewing area is a raised walkway overlooking the entire operation—and it's completely free. A striking triangular-designed shop building, opened in 2020, houses products from all member workshops.
For those wanting a deeper experience, the "Knife Classroom" lets visitors participate in nearly the entire blade-making process: from "hi-zukuri tanzo" (heating metal to high temperatures and hammering it into shape) through grinding and attaching a handle. Participants take home their hand-forged knife that same day.
Kasajima Michiyo, the cooperative's administrative director, notes that the visitors drawn to Takefu Knife Village tend to be "people who find value in the manufacturing process—especially affluent travelers." During a two-hour visit by reporters, two separate groups of French visitors came through the shop.
Sharpening craftsman Yuji Totani, who also serves as the cooperative's managing director, reflects on how tourism has transformed the craftsmen's relationship with their work. "In the old days, we just silently did whatever the wholesalers told us," he says. "But our generation needs to actively promote the appeal of Echizen blades, or we won't survive." About visitors photographing his work, he adds with a smile: "They take lots of photos. And I think, 'We must be doing something worth photographing.'"
Perhaps most striking is the global reach of Echizen blades. Kasajima estimates that roughly 80% of Echizen uchihamono users are now overseas. People who first purchase Echizen knives abroad then travel to the village to see where they were made. Totani enjoys the unexpected international connections: "Getting to talk with people from Luxembourg or Moldova—countries I'd never normally meet anyone from—that's genuinely fun."
RENEW: When the Whole Region Becomes a Workshop
The individual workshop visits are complemented by an annual event that supercharges the craft tourism experience. "RENEW," an open factory event launched in 2015 under the slogan "Come, young people, to the town of making," has grown into Japan's largest event of its kind. In 2025, a record 122 businesses participated across Echizen City, neighboring Sabae City, and Echizen Town, drawing 55,000 visitors over three days.
During RENEW, workshops and factories that are normally closed to the public swing their doors wide open. Visitors can hop between paper mills, lacquerware studios, knife forges, eyeglass factories, and textile workshops—all within that remarkable 10-kilometer radius. The event also features local food, talk events with designers and creators, and guided tours led by regional experts.
The event has become a powerful gateway for first-time visitors who might later return for individual workshop experiences throughout the year.
The Honest Challenges of Craft Tourism
Despite the enthusiasm, craft tourism in Echizen isn't without friction. The fundamental tension is that these are working production facilities, not purpose-built tourist attractions. Every hour spent guiding visitors is an hour not spent making products for paying clients.
Igarashi Paper Mill limits visits to 4-6 groups per day. Koyanagi Tansu Shop can manage only 3-4 visits per month. These aren't arbitrary restrictions—they reflect the real constraints of small workshops where the master craftsperson is both the producer and the guide.
Language remains a practical barrier, though the universal appeal of watching skilled handwork transcends verbal communication. The seasonal nature of certain crafts and the fact that many workshops don't operate on weekends also limit when visitors can experience the most compelling aspects of production.
Yet the workshops are finding that the investment pays off in unexpected ways. Tourism generates direct revenue through experience fees and shop sales. Social media posts by visitors create free marketing. And perhaps most importantly, the face-to-face connection with end users gives craftspeople a sense of purpose and motivation that wholesale distribution never provided.
Where Japan's Past Meets Its Future
What's happening in Echizen is significant beyond tourism. It's a model for how traditional crafts can survive in a modern economy—not by freezing themselves in amber, but by actively engaging with the wider world. Food Paper turns food waste into sustainable stationery. Kicoru transforms woodworking joinery into contemporary products. Takefu Knife Village proves that industrial design and 700-year-old forging techniques can coexist.
For travelers, Echizen offers something increasingly rare in a world of mass tourism: authentic encounters with real craftspeople doing real work. There are no costumes, no scripts, no artificial "experiences." Just artisans who have spent decades mastering their craft, willing to share a window into their world.
In Japan, there's a growing recognition that traditional crafts are not relics to be preserved behind glass, but living practices that need audiences, customers, and successors to survive. Craft tourism is proving to be one powerful way to build all three.
In Japan, traditional craftsmanship is being reimagined through tourism as a path to survival and renewal. Does your country have traditional crafts facing similar challenges? How are artisans in your region adapting to modern times? We'd love to hear your perspective.
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Reactions in Japan
I visited an Echizen washi workshop and the space where you can only hear the sound of paper-making was truly soothing. It's not flashy, but this kind of 'quiet tourism' feels very Japanese to me.
Buying a knife at Takefu Knife Village changed my life. The sharpness is seriously different. Using it after seeing the forging process makes you so much more attached to it.
Craft tourism sounds nice, but isn't it basically taking up artisans' time? If it interferes with their actual work, it defeats the purpose.
Went to RENEW for the first time last year and was blown away. Three days wasn't nearly enough. Talking directly with artisans at the washi workshop was the best part. Definitely going again next year.
Using traditional crafts as 'tourism resources' is fine, but I worry about the quality of the experience getting diluted. If too many people flood in, the workshop atmosphere will change.
Never heard of Food Paper! Making paper from food waste is genius. And the fact that it started from a kid's school project is so touching.
The route of going from Kanazawa to Echizen on the Hokuriku Shinkansen is absolutely perfect. Eat sushi in Kanazawa, make washi paper and buy a knife in Echizen. This is THE correct Hokuriku itinerary.
Echizen deserves attention as a regional revitalization success story. But I'm also curious about the behind-the-scenes—how government support structures work for running an event with 122 participating companies.
Got goosebumps learning Echizen tansu furniture is made without nails. And the fact they're also making iPhone speakers is the coolest thing ever.
Surprised that 80% of Echizen blade users are overseas. As a Japanese person, it's a bit complicated... Shouldn't they be more appreciated domestically?
When the craftsman said 'we're doing something worth photographing,' it really got to me. You can feel the pride in their craft.
Hmm, honestly craft experiences feel a bit overpriced. A few thousand yen for an hour feels like tourist pricing, right? It's not exactly accessible for locals.
The successor shortage in traditional crafts is ultimately about working conditions. If tourism revenue can improve things even slightly, the significance of craft tourism is huge.
The story of Kawasaki Kazuo and Takefu Knife Village as a traditional craft × design success should be textbook material. A prime example of design reviving a production area.
More inbound tourists is good, but if workshops exceed capacity, it's straight to overtourism. If they can only take 3-4 visits a month, the booking competition must be brutal.
I want to try the sumi-nagashi ink marbling experience! Saw a video of colors spreading on water and it was gorgeous. Definitely Instagram-worthy.
As a Norwegian knife smith, I have deep respect for Echizen's forging techniques. The way they've maintained 700 years of tradition while embracing modern design is something Nordic blade makers could learn a great deal from.
I attended RENEW last year and honestly struggled with the lack of English support. Translation apps helped, but with more multilingual resources, I think international visitor numbers could grow significantly.
France has its own 'métiers d'art' tradition, but we don't see workshops opening to tourists as systematically as in Japan. Echizen's approach could be a valuable reference for French craft promotion.
The Food Paper concept of making paper from vegetable waste is brilliant. As a fusion of sustainability and traditional technique, it should resonate with ethical consumers worldwide. Do they sell online?
I traveled from Taiwan via Kanazawa to Echizen. The texture of Igarashi's washi paper is unforgettable. Taiwan has handmade paper traditions too, but they aren't linked to tourism like Japan's. There's a lot we could learn.
As a German, I totally understand the love for DIY and tools. The experience of shaving wood with an Echizen tansu hand plane is a dream for tool lovers like me. Japanese hand tools fetch high prices on eBay, too.
Mexico has a rich artesanía tradition too, but we haven't established a sustainable model where artisans earn income through tourism. Echizen's system is very inspiring.
Korea has traditional craft villages too, but honestly many feel 'made for tourism.' Echizen is fundamentally different because you're seeing actual working workshops. This hits harder for authenticity-seeking travelers.
I'm an Australian chef and have been using Echizen knives for 10 years. I visited Takefu Knife Village to see where they're made, and knowing how my daily tools are born has genuinely changed my approach to cooking.
As a Swedish furniture designer, I'm fascinated by the nail-free sashimono joinery. However, with only 3-4 visits per month available, the booking barrier is quite high.
India has handmade paper traditions too, but I've never seen an approach like Food Paper as an environmental response. This technology could be applied to paper-making regions in developing countries as well.
Small Irish towns have tweed weaving and pottery workshops too, but I've never heard of a region-wide coordinated event like Echizen's RENEW. This operational model could be exported to European rural towns.
To be honest, these experiences can look like a 'rich person's hobby.' If the goal is truly saving traditional crafts, isn't expanding distribution channels for everyday products more important?
Similar setup to Italy's Murano Island for glass. The difference is Echizen keeps actual production as the core rather than going all-in on tourism. Murano's lesson was that over-dependence on tourism degraded quality.
Toledo in Spain is also famous for blades, but Echizen's 'each piece hand-forged by a craftsman' production is on a completely different level. Being able to feel the difference between industrial and handmade products firsthand is a luxury.