Izukyu Railroad’s “Resort 21” train along the Izu coastline – Photo by Izukyu Corporation
Before the railroad came, the Izu Peninsula was a place of deep isolation. Tucked into rugged mountains or clinging to the rocky coast, its villages were shaped by geography, self-reliance, and harmony. People lived simply, by fishing, farming, and making the best of what the land provided.
Today, many people think of Izu as a vacation getaway.
Trains glide past oceanside resorts and villa communities, bringing weekend travelers from Tokyo and Yokohama to hot springs and cherry blossoms in under three hours.
But this version of Izu, the Izu most tourists see, is only part of its story.
This article is about what came before.
It’s about how the construction of a single railway line in the 1960s reshaped the economy, landscape, and identity of an entire region. And it’s about what still remains, if you take the time to look.
A Hard to Reach Peninsula
In the early 20th century, traveling to Izu was no small feat. One could reach the northern gateway of Atami by rail, but anything beyond was slow-going. Roads were rough and steep. It was easier to sail down the coast than to traverse the mountains.
Throughout its history, remoteness has shaped Izu’s culture. Isolation preserved local dialects, crafts, customs, and a sense of independence. Small communities endured by working together. People relied on kinship and cooperation more than commerce. What tourists now call “charm,” the locals simply called life.
The Long Dream of a Railroad
The desire to build a railroad in Izu began early. As far back as 1904, a group of sixteen civic leaders from Kamogun (a large swath of central Izu) formed an alliance to promote the idea of a peninsula-wide railroad, without government help. Their goal was to fund the project with local savings over 100 years, setting aside 3 million yen (an enormous sum at the time) to make it happen.
Their dream was bold, and ultimately unrealistic. Wars, depressions, and shifting national priorities derailed it. But the idea never disappeared. Local governments continued to lobby for railroads, especially as tourism became seen as a path to economic survival.
After decades of petitions and failed plans, a breakthrough came in the 1950s when Tokyu Corporation, known for its department stores and Tokyo commuter networks, saw potential in Izu’s underdeveloped coast.
Tokyu’s Grand Vision


In 1956, under the leadership of Goto Keita and later his son Goto Sho, Tokyu Corporation set out to do more than just build a railway. Their goal was to transform Izu into a major destination by creating a fully integrated tourism model. This included not only trains, but also buses, roads, hotels, resorts, and attractions—an entire ecosystem designed to channel visitors from the Tokyo Metropolitan Region into the scenic heart of Izu.
The railway itself was the centerpiece of this plan. The new line would stretch from Ito to Shimoda, cutting through rugged coastal mountains with more than 30 tunnels and dozens of bridges. It was one of the most ambitious private rail projects of the postwar era, and by the time the Izukyu Line opened in 1961, the peninsula’s transformation was well underway.
Tokyu was not just a railway operator. Like other private rail companies in Japan, it followed a vertically integrated business model that tied transportation to real estate, leisure, and commerce. In urban areas, this meant building department stores at major train stations to generate both ridership and revenue. But Izu’s small population and rural character called for a different strategy. Here, Tokyu invested in hot spring resorts, vacation villas, golf courses, and seaside hotels. The train didn’t just bring tourists, it delivered them to Tokyu-owned destinations, turning the peninsula into a curated, branded getaway.
A New Izu Emerges
Within a short time, towns that had once been quiet fishing or farming villages became resort destinations. Everywhere land was sold for development. Hot spring towns like Ito, Izu Kogen, and Atagawa expanded rapidly. Hotels, golf courses, and vacation condos followed.
The economy shifted. In places where people had relied on forestry, agriculture, and small-scale fishing, tourism became king.
What Was Lost and What Remains
The change wasn’t just economic, it was cultural. As tourism became the Izu’s dominant industry, whole communities shifted their focus. Instead of working the land or the sea, people began working for resorts, driving taxis, cleaning hotel rooms, or opening tourism businesses. Young people who had not left for the big cities found rural life too hard and the rewards too small. Local traditions like seasonal rituals, folk performances, and cooperative projects quietly faded as daily life adjusted to the needs of outsiders. Even the architecture changed: wooden homes with thatched roofs gave way to concrete inns and apartment-style vacation condos.
Villages located inland or away from the train line were often left behind, while coastal towns reshaped themselves for visitor convenience. This new way of life brought comfort, but also isolation. As amenities improved, the need to rely on neighbors diminished, and with it, some of the social fabric that once defined rural Izu.
But the “Old Izu” hasn’t completely vanished.
There are still small villages in the mountains and along the coasts that actively preserve their history. I can introduce you to find eighth-generation farmers growing wasabi in spring-fed terraces. You can walk along old footpaths crowded with bamboo groves, and you can visit fishing villages where everyone helps mend the nets. Scattered around the peninsula, shrine festivals still mark the passing of the seasons just as they did hundreds of years ago.
Decline and Renewal

In recent years, however, signs of renewal have appeared. As international tourism grows, a different kind of traveler is arriving, one that values authenticity over convenience. This trend is also growing among domestic tourists. Local residents and young entrepreneurs are starting to reshape the region, moving away from the old corporate, package-tour model and toward something more sustainable and rooted in local culture.
The railway still plays an important role. With this growing interest in slow travel, the Izukyu Line is a sustainable way to reach the resort areas that have adapted and smaller communities that are rediscovering their identity.
After Japan’s postwar boom, Izu’s rail-driven tourism thrived. Trains were packed with families and employee bonding retreats. The resort towns along the east coast thrived. But good things don’t last forever. After the burst of the bubble economy, the crowds thinned. As time passed, changes in travel habits, and Japan’s aging population all led to a steep decline in visitors. Hotels, pensions and businesses closed. Towns that had transformed to suit mass tourism struggled to adapt.
Another Izu You Can Still Discover
Jimmy’s Izu Tours strives to bring guests to places that retain the feel of old Izu, away from the corporate resorts and attractions. Of course, we visit the classic spots too. At the end of the Izukyu Line you’ll find Shimoda, a historic port town where Japan first opened to the West, but go up into the mountains and you can still find valleys where farmers live much as they did before the train arrived (only now with modern machines). In Ito, you can visit popular tourist attractions like the Jogasaki Coast, Mt. Omuro and Shoboten Zoo, but you’ll aso see a mix of ancient shrines, Taisho-era buildings and modern resorts standing side by side. In the village of Ike, we walk through rice fields that were created by draining a large pond in the Meiji period—a feat of community engineering that speaks volumes about life before tourism.
Why This History Matters
Izu’s story is Japan’s story. It’s a story of modernization, ambition, and resilience. The Izukyu Railway turned Izu into a vacationland. But beneath the resorts and guidebooks lies a deeper place, one still shaped by its land and past.
On my tours, I try to connect guests with the timeless Izu. Whether it’s walking a riverside trail near wasabi farms, visiting a local shrine, or simply chatting with a local at lunch, the goal is to show how old and new still coexist here.
Come see the Izu that trains can’t reach.
Guest Post
Traveling by train is one of the best ways to experience the slow, authentic side of Japan.
Stephen Turner, President of TS Japan Rail Travel. is a well known travel consultant who specializes in getting around Japan by rail.
In the following guest post, Stephen shares his tips for enjoying a rail trip to Izu.
Start your Izu experience on the way there….
Your trip to Izu can start in style. Yes, we believe that the travel part of your trip in Japan should also be part of the experience and getting to Izu is no exception, in fact JR East and Izukyu have between them two luxury trains that as well as letting you travel in great comfort will also allow you to enjoy local cuisine and enjoy the local scenery.
The second train is the “Royal Express” which certainly lives up to its name in both style and service. It is a restaurant train so passengers can enjoy a full meal whilst watching the scenery pass by. It operates on particular days only, between Yokohama and Shimoda and passengers. Travel on this train must be booked as a travel package (i.e. you cannot buy tickets at the ticket office for this train). Packages can include a luxury onsen overnight stay in the Izu area or you can travel just one way with a meal.
And for rail enthusiasts, Izukyu being owned by the Tokyu Corporation nowadays runs ex- Tokyu 8000 series trains for most of its local services. The depot is adjacent to Izu Kogen station.
The first train is JR East’s “Saphir Odoriko, which travels between Tokyo and Shimoda once a day, with an extra service on weekends and holidays from Shinjuku (but returning to Tokyo). This train’s accommodation is all “green car” and “premium green car” (First Class and Premium First Class). There is a cafeteria car where you can get a hot meal and refreshments, and two cars have private compartment style seating. Of course the train is designed so its passengers get great sea views as the train travels down the eastern coast of the Izu Peninsula to Shimoda.



Don’t worry though if all that luxury is too much for you… there are ordinary limited express trains (Limited Express Odoriko) to Izu which are still very comfortable. Although not so much fun you can get the shinkansen to Atami and then ride on an Izukyu train from there. If you are lucky, you may even to get to ride on one of two of Izyukyu’s “Alpha Resort 21 trains”. These trains have window facing seats giving passengers a great view of the sea. They used to run between Tokyo and Izu as Limited Express trains (Resort Odoriko), but now are used on local services, except the one that was completely renovated to become the Royal Express..
Picture: Izukyu Alpha Resort

This information sets the scene for first-time visitors to engage thoughtfully with the culture and history of Izu. As such, it will appeal to people who want to do exactly that! Attuning local story and target visitor is a constantly shifting challenge. This article is not just about Izu, but about the evolving nature of tourism itself. It’s easy to imagine that the people Jimmy will be showing around — people who have read this article and who can sense the hard work Jimmy has put into earning local trust — will find the experience fascinating, and that the people those visitors meet will be glad to have had the chance to engage with the visitors.
Thank you so much for that thoughtful comment, Adam. Knowing it’s from someone whose extensive work with Japan’s lesser known places has inspired me (and continues to do so) is very humbling. The formula seems pretty simple: connect locals who are proud of their hometowns and eager to be hospitable to travelers who respect and value them. Cutting through the social media chatter and mass tourism marketing to help them find each other is the challenge!