Asakusa is one of Japan's most famous tourist destinations.

It's home to the iconic Senso-ji, which is the oldest temple in Tokyo.

Every day, the grounds are bustling with

worshippers and visitors from around the world.

But there's also much more to this area.

In the summer,

the nearby backstreets host a variety of traditional events

that bring the local community together.

These are so cute... and tiny!

Like a potted plant fair that's been going on for 400 years.

Or this ritual held at a famous temple

to pray for the strength to beat the heat.

We'll come upon flowers with cool colors

that refresh both mind and body.

And even a small-scale replica of Japan's most famous mountain.

This is Mt. Fuji.

We'll learn why this shrine has a miniature Mt. Fuji.

And why people gather to climb it.

Join us as we discover local customs

and wisdom handed down since ancient times.

Today, we dive into Asakusa

and experience its time-honored summer traditions.

Hi, I'm Felicia, and here we are in Asakusa.

I'm sure many of you recognize this very famous place right behind me.

You can see all the tourists there.

But today, we're not going to visit there.

We're actually going to take a look in the backstreets of Asakusa,

to see even more of the charm this town holds.

First, we head to the area to the north of Senso-ji temple.

This neighborhood has quietly marked the passage of time for generations,

retaining its traditional character

even as redevelopment transformed other parts of the city.

Just look at that.

Just five minutes away from where we just were.

And can you see the contrast already?

It's so relaxing, so comforting.

Nestled in-between residential houses are intimate dining establishments

that have long served as gathering places for discerning adults.

If you're lucky,

you can even spot kimono-clad geisha walking along the streets.

But perhaps the most distinctive feature of this area

is the sheer number of temples and shrines.

It all goes back to 1657,

when a major fire destroyed over half of old Tokyo.

As reconstruction began,

the shogunate relocated many temples and shrines to Asakusa.

Today, those sacred sites host

a wide range of traditional events in early summer.

There is a big gate here.

Wow, there are a lot of people over there.

I wonder what's going on, I see some lanterns.

I'm going to go in. What is that?

We've arrived at a 400-year-old temple known as Chokokuji.

There appears to be an event going on.

This is what everybody has come to see.

Look at all of these beautiful flowers. It goes all the way down there.

It's a hydrangea festival.

Featuring clusters of flowers in an array of soft colors,

these blossoms have long been considered harbingers of summer.

It's beautiful. I really like the colors in here.

We have blues, purples, light blues.

It's kind of like cool,

and I get a cool and soothing feeling just looking at them.

Here at the temple, they're displayed and sold in late June,

when they reach peak bloom.

The event is organized by chief priest, Igeta Eishu.

Appreciating hydrangeas is a great way to chill out.

Do they literally cool you down? Not exactly.

But the idea is that the sight of them has a cooling effect.

This is the Japanese way to "cool off."

In Japan, it's long been a custom

to admire the cool tones of hydrangeas in bloom

as a way to beat the heat and humidity.

Meanwhile, this temple gets many visitors

who are looking to pray for good health throughout the summer.

So, Igeta decided to combine the two.

He started this festival 20 years ago

to give temple-goers a chance to celebrate the arrival of summer.

It's since become an annual Asakusa tradition

that draws in many locals and tourists alike.

They're very beautiful!

They remind me of the sky!

All the colors are so beautiful. They're wonderful to look at.

During the festival, special prayer services are held in the main hall.

This too is a time-honored tradition for beating the heat.

First, priests hand out the necessary implements.

An unglazed earthenware plate.

Please place the plate on top of your head.

Next, they go around placing some kind of soft,

woolly substance atop of each plate...

which is then lit on fire.

This prayer method is practiced by the Nichiren sect of Japanese Buddhism.

Participants soak up the warmth while listening to priests recite sutras.

This is said to improve circulation and reinvigorate the body,

thereby warding off summer fatigue.

The soft mass that's lit aflame is known as moxa.

Long used in traditional Japanese medicine,

it's prepared from dried mugwort leaves

and provides a mild, slow-burning heat.

These prayer services were originally held

only for followers of Nichiren Buddhism,

but Igeta was determined to make it more inclusive,

and so he made it open to everyone free of charge.

At the end of the service, Felicia is ready to face the summer heat.

It was very hot.

So I felt like I just came out of a sauna.

Except the difference is, the heat is coming from up here,

and it spreads down throughout your body.

But I feel very refreshed, very good.

Next, we head to an area just a couple of blocks away from Senso-ji temple.

It looks like they're selling some potted plants.

And look at the whole street.

It's kind of lined with these plants.

I wonder if it goes all the way down there.

I'm going to check.

Today, a series of open-air stalls line this normally quiet Asakusa street.

This potted plant fair is said to be 400 years old.

Every year during the last weekend of May and June,

dealers and nurseries gather here to showcase their best offerings.

Look at all those pines.

You know, pines are very symbolic in Japan. It's beautiful.

This is something you don't see every day.

I didn't know that they were selling moss like this.

Look how beautiful it is. It's really beautiful.

I never saw moss inside of one of these planters before for sale.

During the peaceful Edo period,

appreciating seasonal flora became a pastime for the masses.

In the 18th century, the widespread availability of flowerpots

made home gardening an accessible and popular hobby.

Potted plant fairs became a seasonal fixture in many parts of the city.

Here in Tokyo's historic downtown area,

many residents continue to adorn their houses with potted plants like these,

lending a unique charm to these streets.

So it's no surprise that this event holds a special place in their hearts.

It's a five-minute walk for me, so I come every year.

They even have cute bonsai trees that are so soothing to look at!

The fair brings together about 20 vendors

from across the Greater Tokyo Area.

Sakurai Shigeru has been taking part for 50 years.

What's he most proud of this year?

These are planted on roof tiles.

Wow, interesting!

They're charming, aren't they?

Very cute and fun!

Perfect for displaying at home and welcoming guests.

These are succulent plants that go by the name "Rock Pine."

Sakurai has planted them on traditional Japanese roof tiles made of fired clay.

That looks really popular.

Let me check it out.

Wow, there's really cute, little, small ones here.

Look at that.

The leaves are small. Everything is tiny.

Among the day's offerings,

this vendor's selection of palm-sized bonsai trees is making an impression.

Is this a real tree?

Yes, it is!

This is Ohno Asami,

who heads a family-run plant nursery

originally started by her grandfather.

Hoping to make bonsai more accessible to the public,

she's put a lot of work into cultivating miniature potted plants.

Plants grow to fit the pot you put them in.

The bigger the pot, the bigger they grow.

So the trick is to use a small one.

These will live for 10 to 20 years.

Their leaves will turn red. They'll develop blossoms and fruit.

Incredible!

This event gets over 100,000 visitors every year.

It originally began as a street market

set up to coincide with a festival held at a nearby shrine.

That festival was traditionally held on July 1st,

during Japan's rainy season.

Because the time of year is considered ideal for transplanting seedlings,

the market gained a reputation for its potted plants,

and the number of vendors grew until it was rebranded as a plant fair.

For generations, the fair has been run by Asakusa residents.

Volunteers from the community help set up and take down the stalls.

Maeda Yukio is chair of the organizing committee.

He sees the event as providing more than just a place to buy and sell plants.

Our plant fair is modest and laid-back.

The other side of the thoroughfare is a bustling area.

But here it's laid-back.

That contrast is part of Asakusa's charm.

Maeda volunteered to head the organizing committee about ten years ago.

At the time, the number of participating vendors was on the decline,

and the fair was in danger of being discontinued.

Determined not to let the tradition die out,

he stepped up and began inviting nursery owners further afield to take part.

I enjoy what I do.

It's as simple as that.

We've kept this tradition going for a long time.

So I want it to continue.

I know that if it were to disappear, I'd miss it.

Traditions like this one are rooted in the seasons.

They mark the passage of time.

The other members of the organizing committee

share Maeda's emotional attachment to the plant fair

and hope to keep the tradition alive for future generations.

I've known this plant fair since I was a kid.

I don't want to lose it.

If we rest now, it could disappear.

So I want to do whatever I can to keep it going.

The bonds of community are strong here.

So with the plant fair we're taking the initiative.

And people are coming together to join our cause.

This fair embodies the soul of Asakusa,

and is a testament to the power of community.

I really enjoyed visiting this festival which is rooted in history,

taking my time, talking to the shopkeepers.

And I learned that yet, this is another face of Asakusa.

Asakusa has long had a reputation for its open-air markets.

They developed around seasonal festivals held at local temples and shrines.

The large crowds attracted vendors,

who set up street stalls along the approaches to these sacred sites.

The high concentration of temples and shrines in this area

led to the creation of many such traditions.

There's the "Japanese Lantern Plant Fair" held in July.

Since ancient times, these plants were regarded as symbols of good luck,

because the bright red color of their seed pods

was thought to ward off misfortune.

Even today, it's custom to display them in homes to bring in good energy.

In November, there's the "Tori-no-Ichi" fair.

The streets are lined with stalls selling "kumade,"

elaborately decorated bamboo rakes.

These auspicious ornaments are meant to "rake in"

good luck and prosperity in business.

Many merchants make it an annual tradition

to come and buy a new one for the year ahead.

Then in December, Asakusa rounds out the year with the Hagoita Fair.

The main draw is the wide variety of "Edo oshi-e hagoita,"

which are trapezoidal wooden paddles

adorned with padded collages of Kabuki actors and popular celebrities.

These items first became popular in the 18th century

and have since been designated a traditional craft of Tokyo.

They're considered auspicious

because they symbolize the idea of "hitting away" bad luck.

For residents of Asakusa,

the open-air markets are more than special occasions.

Here's a workshop that makes "hagoita" paddles.

Hello!

Welcome!

Noguchi Toyoo is a craftsman specializing in "oshi-e,"

which is a traditional patchwork technique

where pieces of fabric padded with cotton

are used to create three-dimensional designs.

He's been making hagoita for over 60 years.

In modern times, the demand for these decorative paddles has been declining.

Noguchi credits the annual Hagoita Fair

for allowing him to keep pursuing his craft.

The fair is where I present the items I've made over the past year.

It accounts for a big share of my annual sales.

So the Hagoita Fair is an essential showcase.

In this way, the open-air markets help keep Asakusa's traditional crafts alive.

They also help local restaurants and bars stay in business.

This is Hosoi Tadahiko,

the third-generation proprietor of a century-old "izakaya" pub.

Their signature dish

is rice cooked with seasonal fish and vegetables in a small pot.

Asakusa is home to many long-standing,

privately-owned establishments like this one.

Hosoi believes it's because local events give residents an opportunity

to get together and socialize.

During festivals lots of people buy "bento" boxes and chicken skewers to go.

People from the community come to us for dinner parties as well as takeout.

He says that the celebrations bring a liveliness to the neighborhood,

and is one reason Asakusa continues to be home

to many restaurants serving up time-honored flavors.

Since the Edo period,

markets have been popping up in front of temple and shrine gates.

It's a tradition that is very much still alive here in Asakusa.

And it's because the local people cherish that heritage.

Our last stop today is a shrine roughly 20 minutes away on foot from Senso-ji.

There are a lot of people here.

Here's the shrine, and today, it's a very special day.

Onoterusaki Shrine was founded over 1,000 years ago.

Every year on June 30th,

they perform a Shinto ritual that is eagerly awaited by local residents.

The main event takes place on the other side of these gates,

which normally stay closed.

But once every year, they're opened to shrinegoers.

One by one,

the priests and parishioners ascend a small mound, six meters tall.

Everybody climbed to the top. I wonder what this is for.

A prayer service is held at the top.

This is actually a ceremony to mark the opening of the mound to climbers.

It represents Mt. Fuji.

Back in the Edo period,

there were many people who were eager to climb Mt. Fuji.

But for one reason or another they couldn't.

So they built this replica.

This is an artificial mound known as a "Fujizuka."

It's made up of volcanic rocks taken from the actual Mt. Fuji

and transported here by boat.

Mt. Fuji has been revered through the ages

as a sacred place where deities reside.

In the 17th and 18th centuries,

worship of the mountain began to spread among the public,

and more townspeople began climbing it to pray for divine blessings.

For believers, ascending the majestic peak was a devotional rite.

But before the advent of trains and cars,

the trek out from old Tokyo was not an easy one.

And so devotees began to construct miniature "Fujis" to serve as surrogates.

This one was built roughly 200 years ago.

Climbing a Fujizuka is said to bestow

the same spiritual benefits as Mt. Fuji itself,

which has made them near and dear to believers.

This one gets visitors from all walks of life.

Every summer, people look forward to this once-a-year opportunity.

Last year, these two made the climb as a married couple.

This year, they're heading up with a newborn in tow.

I'm glad we got to climb together.

We can't take a newborn up Mt. Fuji.

So I'm grateful we got to climb this miniature version.

I prayed for my son's health.

This climber with the white cane has a visual impairment.

This is the top!

Together with his caregiver, he's made it to the summit.

It's a small challenge to take on.

But having reached the top I feel a sense of fulfillment.

Okay, I'm going to give it a try.

I'm going to climb to the top of this Mt. Fuji.

You know, it looks easy,

but they made these rocks like this, so you have a place to put your feet.

And it's just like climbing a mountain.

It's just following the trails up the mountains.

People have climbed and walked many, many times before.

Felicia is actually a seasoned Mt. Fuji climber

who has ascended the mountain many times.

She makes her way up the rocky mound, driven by purpose.

Okay, I've reached the top.

So, I'm at the top of this Mt. Fuji in three minutes.

I actually kind of feel a little bit emotional.

I haven't been to the top of Mt. Fuji for a while.

I started having like this low-blood pressure

and I was having altitude sickness.

So I was not able to climb Mt. Fuji anymore,

and that was one of my loves.

Every summer, I used to do it.

So I'm really glad, and really thankful that I could come here,

and climb this Mt. Fuji.

This Fujizuka continues to be a spiritual destination for many people.

The Asakusa area is deeply rooted in tradition.

And when you get to take your time,

walk around and participate in these historic events,

you really get a deeper appreciation and understanding of why that is.

It's the people and this area of Asakusa.

They really work hard

and pull it together to keep this tradition alive and strong.