Built fromwhat stayed.
Cedar, stone, and filtered forest light. Each room grew from the materials around it. Each faces a different direction. Each asks something different of you.
Named for what
lives outside them.
Kawa
RiverGround level, closest to the water. A shallow mountain stream runs beneath the glass floor of the engawa. At night you can hear it. The private outdoor onsen is fed directly from the volcanic source above.
Iwa
RockSet into the hillside. Three walls of exposed volcanic basalt, one full wall of glass facing the forest canopy. No artificial light enters until dusk. The stone stays cool in summer, and holds warmth in winter.
Sora
SkyAbove the treeline. Cedar and sky. A section of ceiling retracts to open the room to the stars — and in winter, to the first light snowfall. The highest room on the property, and the most open.
One rate,
everything included.
Rooms are from ¥145,000 per night for two guests, two nights minimum. There is nothing further to pay at the end of your stay.
Reservearrow_forward- check_smallKaiseki dinner, fourteen courses
- check_smallBreakfast served in your room
- check_smallYour own onsen, day and night
- check_smallYukata, samue and gyokuro tea
- check_smallPrivate transfer from Hakone-Yumoto
What stays when
everything else leaves.
Private Onsen
Your own thermal bath, fed from the volcanic source at 42°C. Hinoki cypress walls, garden view, no time limit.
Tatami & Futon
Hand-woven rush tatami laid cool and firm beneath you. A triple-layer cotton futon prepared each evening, folded each morning.
Ikebana Arrangement
A single seasonal arrangement placed in the tokonoma alcove. Changed with each guest, chosen the same morning from the garden.
Deliberate Quiet
No television. No alarm. No telephone. A small hand bell by the door will summon your attendant if you need anything.
Yukata & Samue
Indigo-dyed yukata for evenings at the onsen and meals. Linen samue for daytime. Both are yours for the duration of your stay.
Gyokuro Tea
Gyokuro from the Uji harvest, steeped in your room in a tetsubin iron kettle. Ceramic cups made by a local Odawara potter. Replenished daily.
A room should not
announce itself.
The best room disappears around you. Cedar grain, stone floor, the flicker of a candle in still air. You stop noticing walls and begin to notice light.
Everything at Mori is either stone from this mountain, cedar from this forest, or glass framing this sky. If it is not one of those things, it is not here.
"A room that speaks to you has already failed. Ours should simply hold you."