Until fairly recently, when I thought about luxury real estate that made use of old Japanese buildings, Kyoto machiya townhouses were probably among the easiest examples to imagine.

They are located within historic streetscapes, in a destination that already has global recognition, with restaurants, cultural facilities, and many other attractions nearby. Even though they are old buildings, the words “Kyoto” and “machiya” alone make their value relatively easy to understand.

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Farmhouse kominka, former village headmen’s residences, samurai residences, and similar kominka in the countryside and rural areas have occupied a somewhat different position.

The buildings are large, and the land is often spacious. Nature is abundant, but transportation access is not always convenient. Maintenance also requires time and effort. Unlike standardized urban real estate assets, this is a field where customized solutions and relationships with the local community are essential.

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In recent years, however, through my work and the cases I have seen, I have been noticing more people acquiring these kominka in the countryside and rural areas and investing substantial amounts of money into restoring them, although this still seems more common in locations with relatively reasonable access from major tourist destinations or cities.

This is somewhat different from buying an inexpensive old house, carrying out a simple renovation, and operating it as a minpaku.

Some kominka undergo major renovations, with multiple bathrooms, swimming pools, landscaping, and upgraded facilities.

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From what I have seen, people investing in kominka in the countryside and rural areas are finding value that cannot be explained simply by real estate investment yields. To me, that value seems to be connected to a different kind of “luxury” from the conventional idea of luxury associated with expensive goods, high prices, rarity, and status.

 

When I think about the combination of the countryside and kominka in particular, I feel that the sense of luxury and value people find in it is highly personal. Something that is difficult for one person to obtain, something they cannot experience in everyday life, or a particular kind of time or experience that feels special can also be considered luxury.

 

For many people living in cities, surrounded by modern efficiency, digital technology, and man-made environments, the countryside, rural areas, and kominka can feel almost like the opposite of daily life. They offer time and space that are difficult to obtain in ordinary life, while their strong connection to long histories and local cultures may further increase their value.

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Kominka are highly individual. The craftsmanship and design, building materials, the period in which the kominka was built, its layout, land, the lives that were once lived there, the surrounding nature, and the local culture all differ from one kominka to another.

Some farmhouse kominka contain storage spaces that look almost like hidden rooms. Former samurai residences and village headmen’s houses may still preserve traces of how people lived at the time, including what was considered “luxury” in that era.

There are kominka that were relocated from villages once known as “valleys of ronin” because many masterless samurai settled there. There are also kominka located along hidden routes once used by the forces of a hatamoto, where those men stayed overnight.

And not only the kominka themselves, but also their histories and stories cannot simply be created again in exactly the same way.

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I think this may be one reason kominka in the countryside and rural areas are beginning to be seen not simply as “old houses,” but as assets with a different kind of value.

 

However, this does not mean that every kominka can become a luxury asset, nor do I think a kominka should be acquired simply because kominka are popular or because the idea feels romantic.

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The combination of the countryside, rural areas, and kominka is not as simple as buying an ordinary house or condominium in an urban area. If kominka are considered as investments, it is essential to understand that they are not standardized products and that each one has an extremely high degree of individuality.

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Building condition, renovation costs, infrastructure, access, maintenance, local relationships, intended use, and operational structure all need to be considered. Even for private use or as a personal passion project, the level of difficulty is high. As a lifestyle investment or business investment, the difficulty becomes even greater.

 

The challenge is not simply owning a kominka in the countryside or a rural area. The higher hurdle lies in making the kominka work as a project, as a luxury asset, or as an investment.

 

Beyond cultural and historical value, the sense of being outside ordinary daily life, and the rarity of kominka themselves, I think the difficulty of preserving their original value while making them work as something that remains relevant and valuable both today and into the future may also be part of what makes kominka in the countryside and rural areas special.