Izu Oshima

We took the ferry out of Tokyo on a whim, mostly because Lia couldn’t quite believe an active volcano was administratively part of the same city we’d been living in for months. Izu Oshima sits about a hundred kilometers south, close enough to reach in a morning and far enough that it feels like leaving the country entirely. By the time the mainland disappeared behind us and the island’s dark cone came into view, I understood why she’d insisted.

Mount Mihara and the Moon Desert

Mount Mihara is the island’s whole personality — an active volcano whose 1986 eruption forced the evacuation of the entire population, a fact that still hangs over the place even now that the crater sits quiet and walkable. We hiked up along a trail through fields of black volcanic gravel toward the rim, the ground crunching underfoot in a way that felt more like walking on cinders than earth. Nearby, a stretch of black-sand slopes called Urasabaku — nicknamed the “moon desert” — spreads out in dark, wind-rippled dunes with almost nothing growing on them. Standing there, the crater smoking faintly behind us and nothing but black sand ahead, Lia said it was the least Japan had ever felt like Japan, and she meant it as the highest compliment.

A Sea of Camellias

We’d timed the trip for winter without fully realizing what that meant until we saw it: Izu Oshima blooms with millions of camellia flowers between roughly December and March, entire hillsides turning red and pink with blossoms that most of the mainland has no equivalent for. The flowers aren’t just decorative — they feed a genuinely old local industry, Oshima Tsubaki hair oil, pressed from camellia seeds in a tradition that’s been running here for over a century. We visited a small pressing workshop where the oil is still extracted using traditional methods, the whole room smelling faintly sweet, and Lia bought a bottle she still uses at home, insisting it’s better than anything from a pharmacy.

The Coast in Between

Between the volcano and the camellia groves, the island’s coastline does its own quiet work — black volcanic cliffs dropping into a startlingly clear sea, small fishing harbors tucked into coves, the kind of scenery that would draw crowds anywhere less overshadowed by its own volcano. We rented scooters for an afternoon and just followed the coast road, stopping wherever the view demanded it, eating grilled fish at a tiny harborside stall where the owner seemed genuinely surprised to see outsiders. It’s the kind of island where the drama up top makes you forget there’s a whole gentle, ordinary coastline running around the edges.

Getting There

High-speed ferries run from Takeshiba Pier in central Tokyo to Izu Oshima in about one hour forty-five minutes, making it a genuine day-trip option, though an overnight stay gives you far more room to see both the crater and the camellia groves without rushing. Scooter and small-car rentals near the port are the easiest way to get around once you’re there, since the island’s sights are spread out along its coast road and up toward the crater rim. Sea conditions can affect ferry schedules, so it’s worth checking sailing status before you head to the pier, especially outside the calmer months.