We Moved into a Traditional Akiya House in Japan

Our first house guest was Francois. We came home one evening to find the giant huntsman spider on our freshly re-papered shoji screen doors in our akiya house. As quickly as we saw her, she scurried away across the floor, making audible footsteps as she went. I still remember the horror of hearing her footsteps scatter across the floor.

Looking for answers to general questions about akiya houses? Read my Top Questions About Akiya: What You Need to Know About Abandoned Homes in Japan.

This would become the first of many surprises that await our new life—in an akiya house, one of the abandoned or vacant houses in Japan. In late 2021, we decided to trade in our modern Kyushu apartment for life in an akiya house on Shikoku, Japan’s smallest main island. So, here’s what our experiences in akiya house living have been like. 

But first, what is an akiya house?

An akiya house (空き家) means an empty, vacant, or abandoned home. Do a quick Google search, and you’ll quickly stumble on articles about these akiya house gems, some with jaw-dropping affordable prices ready for your TLC. 

While compelling headlines like “How to buy a $500 house in Japan!” are easy to get hooked on, we’ve come to realize that some challenges and hidden surprises lie beneath the surface of those flashy headlines.

Why did we choose to live in one of these akiya houses in Japan? 

For Jesse and I, one of the most compelling reasons for seeking life in one of these akiya houses was to experience the challenges of renovating the house. We took it on as an exciting challenge, one where we stepped into an unknown terrain of house renovation entirely new to us. 

Read More: About the renovations we’ve done so far on our akiya house in the first year.

While this was one of our reasons, there were several other benefits of living in an akiya house. Affordable rent. A chance to experience and be a part of a countryside community. Enjoy a quiet slice of country life, gardening, and solitude of our new remote house setting. 

While these are our reasons, akiya living comes with its many challenges. The thin non-insulated walls allowed the cold winter air to seep through into our clothes, our futons, our bones. We spent hours every week preparing the wood-burning stove bath to wash off our daily grind and wear. Nightly visitors, like the giant huntsman spiders, poisonous centipedes, and gangly-legged geji geji centipedes, would make surprising appearances at night. 

But even these challenges were inextricably fun, an added flavour to our exciting akiya house adventure.

How did we find our akiya house in the Japanese countryside? 

While there are akiya searching options like akiya banks, real estate agents, and brokers, we ultimately found our house the good old way — the insider knowledge of a helpful local.

Jesse, with his newly obtained blacksmithing apprenticeship in Shikoku, was assisted by his new employer, who sought out and enlisted the advice of neighbours and found our current sweet house on the side of the hill. 

How much is our rent?

We pay 30,000 JPY, or approximately CAD 300.00 per year, for our little house in the country. Per YEAR !! After seven years of living in one of the most expensive cities in the world, this new price tag was unimaginable. Rent aside, this modest price does come with the renovation and maintenance costs you may not normally incur in newer builds.

What are some of the costs of living in our akiya house? 

So what are some other costs for living in an akiya house? Here’s a rough monthly average of house-related renovation and maintenance costs in the past few months.

Rent (30,000 JPY / 12 = 2,500 JPY)	2,500 JPY
Kerosene and Firewood (cooler seasons only)	12,000 JPY
Monthly budget for renovation, tools, and materials*	25,000 – 50,000 JPY
Total	39,500 – 64,500 JPY

Tack on Japan’s monthly pension, healthcare, and resident tax contributions, plus additional costs for car tax and insurance, TV tax, wifi, phone, and utilities, and you’ve got a fairly “average” monthly payment comparable to an apartment living in an equally small city. 

What have our experiences been like so far living in an akiya house?

So, what have our personal experiences of akiya house living been like so far? Here’s what they’ve been like:

We are in constant cleaning-mode

In late 2021, we rolled up our sleeves and got to work cleaning the house. It had been vacant for seven years, with weeds and vines engulfing the yard and stone walls. The interior screen doors were tattered, and a layer of rodent and bird droppings lay across stained rugs. 

Dusty cupboards hide hoards of writhing geckos that came crashing to the floor when we peeled the caked cabinets off the walls — one of the crawliest moments of the move-in. 

In total, it took several days to clean the house and pack old futons, clothing, and other bits and pieces before it was move-in ready. 

It feels like we are living in a cabin

Our first New Year in our akiya house was spent huddled against the kerosene heater in the kitchen — a real first-hand experience of winter akiya life. For anyone who hasn’t experienced the cold winter of Japan, it’s coooooold. Not frost-bite, -40 Celsius cold like Canada, but seep-into-your-bones chill that only dissipates after soaking in a hot bath. It’s no wonder that Japan has a significant bath culture; secretly, I think it’s more than just getting clean; it’s a way to get rid of the bone chill of winter!

Like many older buildings and houses in Japan, our insulation was subpar, but we were able to purchase a cast iron wood stove, which has been one of our best investments to date. We’ve also become experts in preventing heat from escaping the house by drilling plywood sheets into random holes.

We got very good at making wood-burning heated baths

Our bathroom and toilet are located in a separate building next to the shed, much like many older homes in Japan. Each evening, we prepare the wood stove with firewood and fill the tub with cold water. After waiting 45 minutes, the heat circulates through the tub’s pipes, heating the water and creating a relaxing bath. 

During the winter months, we strip down and dump buckets of water over ourselves like crazy monkeys before immersing ourselves in the hot water. If we happen to be in the season of frogs, their singing adds to the peaceful ambiance. I’ll turn off the lights and let in their boisterous calls while I sit in our wood stove bath — one of the small pleasures of rural Japanese life. 

We learned that outhouses weren’t so horrible

When I think of outhouses, unpleasant memories of my early Canadian camping days come to mind. As a child, I dreaded using these facilities and would avoid them until absolutely necessary. I would pinch my nose and reluctantly enter, anticipating the foul odors that awaited me. 

While searching through the akiya banks, we often came across houses with no plumbing and old-fashioned outhouse toilets, so naturally, this became one of my biggest concerns when we settled into our own akiya house and outhouse setup. 

However, when we finally had our own outhouse, I was pleasantly surprised to learn that you can install a vent, which makes a huge difference. Did you know that you can vent your outhouses? I didn’t. 🤯

I went from being worried about the smell to being pleasantly surprised. What was a deal-breaker for me was fixed with a vent that rendered our outhouse practically odorless for most of the year.  Installing a vent and fan in your outhouse is a wise investment you won’t regret. It has made a world of difference for us, and I highly recommend it to anyone in a similar situation.

We got used to the spiders, centipedes, and monkeys

When it comes to living in the akiya house and countryside in Japan, we can’t help but be amazed by the critters that call the house their home. We’ve started to think of ourselves as guests who have been welcomed by these creatures, who make up the majority of the inhabitants. 

Francois, the huntsman spider, is one of the most courteous and tends to stay in her preferred spots, scurrying away whenever we get too close. My habit was to check on her to make sure she was in her usual spot by the front entrance before going to bed. 

On rainy nights, the outside world can find its way inside, and geckos, frogs, and other nocturnal visitors often greet us. We do keep an eye out for the mukade centipede, one of the few venomous creatures in the area, but we’ve been lucky enough not to have any close encounters. 

Recently, we even caught a glimpse of a wild macaque nearby. They’re known for raiding gardens, but they’re also the most cautious of all the animals around here, quickly scurrying away when they sense they’re being watched. 

Since we’ve been here, our screams of surprise have become amusement whenever we encounter these critters. We’ve learned to let the Huntsmen do their natural pest control job and let the house’s residents do their work, except for the occasional mukade removal.

We now leave the huntsmen spiders alone to do their bidding as natural pest control and let the house’s residents do their work, except for the occasional mukade removal.

What’s next in our akiya adventure? 

Over the last eight months, we’ve been working on renovating and making cosmetic changes to our home. Our progress has been slow but steady, and we’ve successfully fixed and re-papered our Japanese shoji screen doors, replaced wall sections, and made the house more comfortable. As summer ends, we’ll be focusing on weeding the garden again to prepare for the upcoming typhoon season. 

We’ll keep you updated on our new life in the Japanese countryside. Until next time, I’ll pass along your greetings to Francois.🕷️