In the autumn of 2020, the wedding they’d planned in Italy was gone. Japan’s borders were closed to the world, and most of the weddings we had on the calendar had been moved to some other year.
They lived in Tokyo. So they did what very few couples could do that year. They eloped in Japan.
Months later, the villa’s owner wrote that Covid had brought almost every business to a standstill, but not the love of two young people moving on toward their lives.
This is the story of a helicopter elopement in Japan, from Kyoto to the mountains of Nara, in a year when almost nothing else went ahead.

Why a Villa in Nara
They wanted something private, something nobody they knew had done, and a day that brought both of their cultures together. Half Japanese, half American, and living in Tokyo, they didn’t need a destination. They needed a place.
Our friends at Okuni introduced us to Sasayuri-Ann, a villa in the mountains of Uda, in Nara, where terraced rice fields step down the valley. Dee went down to see it before we said a word to the couple. She walked the garden, ate lunch at the villa, met the family who own it, and came home certain.
It’s the part of planning we never skip. A place has to be felt before it’s recommended, and a villa for an elopement in Japan has to be right for two people, not for two hundred.

A Private Villa, and the Family Behind It
Sasayuri-Ann is a private villa. A couple takes the whole villa for their stay. It belongs to a local family who live elsewhere in the village and look after their guests themselves. The owner plays the bamboo flute and the conch. His wife is a master of ikebana.
When Dee first wrote to him, he answered with the reason the place exists: “We are not employed persons but owner family so that couple will be able to return to our place as if it is their home town.”
That set the tone for everything we planned with him. Nothing staged, nothing for show, and every decision made with the villa in mind.

A Helicopter Elopement, From Kyoto
They arrived the afternoon before the wedding, by helicopter from Kyoto, about twenty minutes over the hills to a clearing near the villa. Their luggage had gone ahead by courier, because a helicopter takes very little besides the two of you.

We were waiting for them when they landed, and stayed as the garden lights came on at dusk. Dinner was at the villa, and the night was theirs.


A Sunrise Blessing at Akame 48 Falls
The wedding day began in the dark.
Just across the border in Mie, the Akame 48 Falls run down a gorge of moss and stone that has drawn mountain ascetics for centuries. Before sunrise they walked up the gorge and received a blessing at the water, the way people have begun important things in these mountains for a very long time.


By the time they were back at the villa to get ready, the day already had its weight.
No Arch, and Two Kinds of Music
Their first idea for the ceremony was a circle of flowers, an arch to stand inside, as a symbol of two cultures becoming one. Dee loved the meaning: “Coming together as one and never-ending.”

The owner gently disagreed. A western arch, he felt, would fight the house. So the couple let it go, kept the decoration simple and in harmony with the place, and carried calla lilies tied with a thin black ribbon.


The music went the other way. They’d asked for a single bamboo flute. The owner, a flute player himself, made the case for adding koto: “Bamboo flute is absolutely for WABI SABI & spiritual world.” With the koto, he promised, the music would “sound FLOWERING”. We agreed, on one condition of our own: it had to be atmosphere, never a performance, and nothing that felt touristy.
The groom summed up what they were after when he chose the music for their film: “In general we avoided any ‘Epic’ build ups and wanted a more magical feel.”
A Private Villa Elopement in Japan
Koto and shakuhachi played as they saw each other for the first time, and kept playing as she came down the stone path past the garden.


It was an elopement in the truest sense: the two of them, with their families watching live from home on a screen. They spoke their own vows. The owner gave them a short blessing. And then, in a valley in Nara, in a year when almost nobody got married the way they’d planned, they were married.


A Toast in the Teahouse
The toast was champagne, poured into Japanese tea cups in the garden teahouse. A small gesture, and one we love: two cultures in one cup, with nobody needing to explain it. It was what they had wanted from a circle of flowers, found somewhere quieter. Later they danced among the pines, with no audience but the garden.


Japanese gardens have a word for the way a view beyond the walls becomes part of the garden itself: shakkei, borrowed scenery. At Sasayuri-Ann the borrowed scenery is the whole valley, the terraces and the mountains behind them, and for one afternoon it belonged to two people.

Home at Last Light


They left the way they came. At the end of the afternoon the helicopter lifted out of the valley and turned for Kyoto, over the last of the autumn colour, with the light going gold behind them.


Kyoto, a Few Days Later
A few days later we met them again in Kyoto, for an afternoon of portraits in the old lanes of Higashiyama.


A Wedding Film at a Tourism Festival
When the villa’s owner watched the film, he wrote to us: “Film is so gorgeous and emotional feeling to fit my heart as an audience.”
Then he did something we would never have done ourselves. He entered it into the Japan World’s Tourism Film Festival. Out of more than 1,300 films from Japan and around the world, it was chosen for the official selection on both the Japan and the international lists, and went through to the international finals. The festival was held online that year, from Kiyomizu-dera in Kyoto.
It’s a real elopement: no retakes, no screenplay, no models, nothing staged for the camera. A festival made to show the world why Japan is worth the journey put it among its finalists. We think that says something true about Japan. Sometimes the most convincing picture of a place is two people who chose it. The full film, with their vows, belongs to them and stays private. The film you can watch here is the short version they chose to share.
Planning a Helicopter Elopement in Japan
Can you elope at a private villa in Japan? Yes. Some of the most beautiful places to elope in Japan are private villas, taken by one couple at a time and looked after by the local families who own them. They’re rarely found online, and the right one depends on knowing the family.
How do you get to a villa in the mountains of Nara? By road it’s a long drive from Kyoto or Osaka. For this elopement, a helicopter from Kyoto made it about twenty minutes, and turned the journey into part of the day.
What does an elopement in Japan mean to us? The two of you, and nobody else there in person. Family can join on a screen, and often do.
As your destination wedding planner in Japan, we find the place, meet the people who run it, and shape the day with them, so the two of you only have to arrive. And our photography and film team stays with you from the landing to the last light.
A Home Town in the Mountains
The owner wanted couples to be able to return to Sasayuri-Ann “as if it is their home town”.
Somewhere in a valley in Nara, above the rice terraces, two people from Tokyo have one.































































































































