Transforming the Existing into Something New at Night

Hiroshima’s nights are beginning to change—this may sound exaggerated, but the texture of change is rather subtle. The trams remain the same, the beer hall is not newly built, and the fabric for the yukata is not made of special materials. What has changed is the “way of use.”

The night tours on chartered trams, the limited-time revival of the Kirin Beer Hall, and the separate-style yukata. What these three initiatives have in common is that instead of making large investments to build something new, they are re-editing the “time slots” and “contexts” of existing resources in the city. Who does this make comfortable? And what structure are they trying to use to operate the night economy? Let’s take a look at the behind-the-scenes arrangements.

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Chartering Trams—The Idea of Selling “Idle Time” of Infrastructure

The Hiroshima Electric Railway operates a tram network of about 19 kilometers within the city. During the day, it carries about 100,000 passengers, but the number of trams decreases at night, creating idle time for the vehicles and tracks. The night tours on chartered trams transform this idle time into a tourism content.

Inside the tram, a DJ booth is set up, and club music plays. The illuminated Atomic Bomb Dome and the lights along the Hondori River pass by outside the windows. Participants sway while standing with drinks in hand, touring Hiroshima’s night views over a course of about 90 minutes. The “moving box” itself is the same as during the day. By simply changing the lighting, sound, and time slot, a completely different experience emerges.

What is noteworthy about this system is its light cost structure. The charter fee is around 100,000 yen per tram. For a vehicle with a capacity of about 70 people, this works out to about 1,500 yen per person. If local restaurants provide food and drinks, the railway only needs to supply the vehicle and operating personnel, with almost no additional capital investment required. In other words, this is a model of “reselling the idle time of transportation infrastructure in the context of food and tourism,” which minimizes the burden for the railway, restaurants, and tourists alike.

Hiroshima City has set a goal to increase the number of overnight tourists. In 2023, approximately 13.46 million tourists visited Hiroshima, of which about 4.1 million were overnight guests. The high ratio of day-trippers has been a long-standing issue. Creating “experiences that can only be had at night” directly contributes to increasing the motivation for overnight stays. The fact that reservation slots were nearly filled within a few weeks of the launch supports the existence of demand.

However, it is important to separate fact from expectation here. Currently, there is no data demonstrating a causal link between “night tours and increased overnight stays.” Verification of the effects will come later. Nonetheless, the design philosophy of utilizing the idle time of existing infrastructure has a structure that can be applied to other regional cities.

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Reviving the Kirin Beer Hall—Opening a “Place of Memory” for a Limited Time

The “Kirin Beer Hall Hiroshima,” which once existed in the Naka Ward of Hiroshima City, was a social hub beloved by locals since the 1970s. Even after its closure, many people still remember its name. This year, a limited-time beer hall bearing that name reappears in the heart of Hiroshima.

What is interesting about the design of this revival is the balance between “nostalgia” and “updating.” The interior features reproductions of photos and menus from that time, while the food menu includes beer cocktails made with lemons from Hiroshima Prefecture and new dishes using locally sourced oysters from Etajima. In other words, it has a dual structure that attracts people with “memories” while returning to the local economy with “current ingredients.”

The limited-time format also holds significance. In a permanent establishment, fixed costs such as rent, labor, and procurement can weigh heavily. With a limited-time setup, it can operate under short-term rental contracts and event-based staffing. For Kirin Beer, it revitalizes the brand; for the commercial facility providing the venue, it serves as a crowd-pulling device; and for local food producers, it offers a new sales channel—each party’s interests align within a single “box.”

In past revival events, it was reported that Friday and Saturday nights would fill up within an hour of opening. The average spend per customer is around 3,000 to 4,500 yen for 2-3 beers and 1-2 food items. While not high-priced, the design relies on turnover rates and buzz to make it profitable. Here too, we see the method of “not building a new box, but re-editing an existing place and memory within the framework of time.”

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Separate Yukata—Solving “Not Being Able to Wear” Through Design

The third initiative is a product that modifies the structure of the yukata itself. The “separate-style yukata,” which is divided into upper and lower garments, can be worn without knowing how to tie an obi, resembling the sensation of wearing Western clothing. The price range is approximately 5,000 to 10,000 yen. Considering that traditional yukata made from fabric costs 20,000 to 30,000 yen, plus an additional 3,000 to 5,000 yen for dressing, the cost barrier is significantly lowered.

The problem this yukata aims to solve is clear. “I want to wear a yukata, but I don’t know how to put it on,” “Dressing takes time and money,” “It’s hard to move”—many reasons why younger generations have distanced themselves from yukata stem not from a lack of interest in culture, but from structural inconveniences. The separate style removes these inconveniences at the design stage.

Local sewing artisans created the patterns, and a fashion show-style unveiling was held at a commercial facility in Hiroshima City. Here too, there is a design that considers “who it makes comfortable.” By lowering the hurdles for wearers, more people will wear yukata and go out into the streets. As the number of people in yukata increases, it connects not only to summer festivals and fireworks displays but also to night consumption scenes such as beer halls and tram tours. One product has the potential to change the entire night landscape of the city.

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When the Three Initiatives Overlap—The Nested Structure of the “Night Economy”

When we line up these three initiatives, a certain structure emerges.

• Trams have transformed “movement” into an “experience.”
• Beer halls have turned “memories” into a “place of consumption.”
• Separate yukata have changed “not being able to wear” into “being able to wear.”

None of these added something new; rather, they changed the “connections” of existing elements. When these three overlap during the same nighttime hours, a flow of movement is created. Wearing a separate yukata, riding a chartered tram, and enjoying a drink at a beer hall—this way of spending the night can become a daily option rather than just a special event.

Here lies the nested structure of the “night economy.” Each individual initiative is small. However, by positioning each in relation to the others, the duration of stay is extended, and points of consumption increase. Even if the average night spending increases by just 2,000 yen per person, when multiplied by 4.1 million overnight guests annually, it calculates to an impact of 8.2 billion yen. Of course, this is merely a hypothetical figure, but the structural design of “a chain of small initiatives generating economic effects” certainly exists.

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The Common Language of the Initiators

What drives these initiatives is not large-scale projects from major developers or government agencies. It is the small initiators with different specialties—event planners who brought in the tram project, local food producers who negotiated the revival of the beer hall, and sewing artisans who drew the patterns for the yukata.

What they have in common is the attitude of “changing the way of using what is available” rather than lamenting what is lacking. Hiroshima has trams, memories of beer, and a culture of yukata. When these are re-bundled along the time axis of night, the expression of the city changes just a little.

There is no flamboyance like a grand fireworks display. However, things that operate through systems continue quietly. The sustainability that allows one to think, “It’s happening again this year,” every summer is much more reassuring for the city’s economy than a flashy one-time event.

What is trying to change Hiroshima’s nights is not a huge budget but a series of small edits that look at what is already there from a different angle. Within that quiet touch lies the next way to turn the local economy.