What I Learnt About Space from Staying in a Ryokan

One of the most eye-opening parts of my recent trip to Japan was staying in a traditional ryokan in Hakone. I’ve always been fascinated by how other cultures approach organisation, but nothing quite prepared me for the calm simplicity and thoughtful design of these beautiful inns. If you’ve never stayed in one, a ryokan is essentially a Japanese guesthouse, often with tatami mat flooring, sliding shoji doors, minimal furnishings and communal onsen baths. It’s serene, peaceful and almost monastic – but in the best way possible.

It was such a contrast to our sometimes overly busy, overly filled homes. And yet it never felt like anything was missing. That’s what truly struck me – the space was designed so well, with such intent, that it didn’t need excess to feel complete.

So here’s what I learnt from my ryokan experience and how you can apply a bit of that magic to your own space.

Space isn’t empty. It’s restful.

We often think of empty space as a waste, don’t we? As if a blank wall or an unfilled shelf is calling out to be filled with something. But in the ryokan, the empty space was the design. It gave your mind room to breathe. The tatami flooring was mostly clear, with maybe a small table or cushion. The walls weren’t cluttered with pictures or shelving. Just simplicity and space.

In our homes, we’re often tempted to fill every corner – especially in places like Dubai where bigger homes can mean more temptation to collect. But what if we gave ourselves permission to leave some areas beautifully blank?

Start with a shelf or a corner in your living room. Instead of packing it with decorative pieces, just leave it as it is. Let it breathe. See how that feels.

Hidden storage makes all the difference

The cleverness of Japanese design is something else. Even in a small room, there’s always a place for things to go. In my ryokan room, the futons were stored during the day in built-in cupboards with sliding doors, and bedding was layered so neatly it almost looked like a piece of art.

It made me realise how important hidden storage can be – not just for tidying, but for shifting the energy of a space. When the futon and duvets were packed away, the room changed from a bedroom to a sitting space. That flexibility is something we could do more with in our homes.

If you don’t already, consider multi-functional storage. Ottomans, benches with lift-up lids, even simple baskets with lids that can be tucked away when not in use. You don’t have to build a ryokan cupboard to have that same seamless effect.

Everything had a place – and a reason

One of the key takeaways was how intentional everything was. In the bathroom, there wasn’t a million half-used bottles. There was one of each thing, neatly decanted or beautifully packaged. It wasn’t sparse – it was curated.

That got me thinking about how we often hang on to so many ‘just in case’ items or duplicates. What if we approached our spaces more like the ryokan – with only the essentials, and only what we truly use?

Next time you’re looking at a cupboard, ask yourself: “Would this belong in a ryokan?” If not, it might be time to let it go.

Routine creates rhythm – and rhythm keeps things tidy

Ryokan stays often follow a bit of a routine – bathing before bed, changing into a yukata (cotton robe), laying out the futon, waking up to a quiet breakfast. It sounds simple, but that rhythm really helped to keep things in order. There wasn’t frantic rummaging or messy transitions.

At home, having set routines can be just as helpful for maintaining organisation. It could be as simple as having a five-minute tidy before bed or always putting your clothes away before dinner. It’s not about being strict – it’s about creating a rhythm that brings calm.

Beauty in simplicity

I won’t lie – I took an embarrassing number of photos of the wooden trays, the pottery cups, the way the tea set was laid out. There’s such a beauty in the simplicity of Japanese objects. Nothing flashy, just beautifully made, well placed, and respected.

We can adopt the same approach. Instead of filling shelves with dozens of mismatched mugs, pick your favourite four. Display a single beautiful vase instead of ten trinkets. When you honour the item, it stands out – and you’re far more likely to treat it well.

Bringing the ryokan mindset home

I’m not saying you need to turn your home into a Japanese inn (although how lovely would that be?). But taking a few principles from the ryokan – simplicity, intentionality, hidden storage, rhythm and space – can absolutely change how your home feels.

Try starting small. Choose one room or even one drawer. Ask yourself: does this space feel calm? Do the items here serve a purpose or bring joy? Is there too much going on?

If not, start editing. Not by emptying the entire room onto the floor (you know I never advise that!) – but by gently, thoughtfully reviewing what’s there and how it could better serve your needs.

And most importantly, give yourself the gift of space. Not every area needs to be filled. Sometimes, the most powerful organising choice is to leave a little room.