Nagoya Castle

Listen for the gravel first. It crunches under every step as you pass through the gate. Beneath it, the ground feels firm and level, packed hard by centuries of feet. Ahead of you, grey stone walls rise in long curves. At the very top of the roofline, something catches the light. It is a small flash of gold, high above the trees.

That gold belongs to two creatures, one at each end of the main keep's top roof. They are called shachihoko. Each one has the head of a tiger and the body of a carp, with its tail curled up toward the sky. In Japanese tradition, these figures guard a building against fire. People here simply call them the kinshachi, the golden shachi. Over time they have become a symbol of Nagoya itself.

The castle's story begins in 1610. Tokugawa Ieyasu had recently won control of Japan. He ordered a great fortress built on this flat ground. It guarded the road between Edo, the city we now call Tokyo, and the old western capitals. The castle was not only a defence. It was also a statement — the Tokugawa were here, and they intended to stay.

Ieyasu gave the castle to his ninth son, Tokugawa Yoshinao. Yoshinao founded the Owari branch of the family. Owari was one of three senior branches of the Tokugawa clan. These branches could provide an heir to the shogun if the main line failed. For more than two and a half centuries, the lords of Owari ruled from here. Around the castle, a town of merchants and craftsmen grew, and that town became modern Nagoya.

Now look closely at the stone walls. Ieyasu did not pay for them himself. He ordered feudal lords from across Japan to supply the labour and the stone. This was a clever move. It drained the wealth of lords who might otherwise challenge him. Here is a detail many visitors walk past. Some of the stones carry carved marks — symbols that show which lord's workers placed them. If you search the lower courses carefully, you may spot a few.

One of those lords was Kato Kiyomasa, a famous castle builder. He is linked with the stone base of the main keep. Near the keep, a statue shows him standing on top of a huge stone as workers haul it along. Local stories say he turned the hard work into a kind of festival, to keep spirits high. Treat that as a popular tale. The skill of the stonework, however, you can see for yourself.

For centuries, the castle survived. In 1930 it became the first castle in Japan to be named a National Treasure. Then came the Second World War. In May 1945, American air raids struck Nagoya, an important industrial city. Fire bombs hit the castle. The main keep and the palace burned to the ground. The golden shachihoko on the roof melted with the rest.

And here is a surprise. Not everything was lost. Before the raids, people had removed many of the painted sliding doors and wall panels from the palace for safekeeping. Those paintings survived the fire. Several corner turrets on the outer walls also survived. As you walk the grounds, some of the white towers on the walls are genuine old structures, not copies. They are quieter than the keep, but they are the real thing.

The main keep you see today was rebuilt in 1959. From a distance it looks like the old wooden tower. In fact, it is made of reinforced concrete. For decades it held a museum, with lifts inside. In recent years the keep has been closed to visitors. The city has long discussed a plan to rebuild it in wood, using traditional methods. So for now, most people enjoy it from the outside — which is still the best view.

The Honmaru Palace is a different story. It stands close to the keep, and it was rebuilt carefully in wood, following old drawings and photographs. The work took many years and finished in 2018. The palace was once the home and office of the Owari lords. Inside, you remove your shoes and walk on polished wooden floors. The air carries the clean smell of fresh cypress wood.

Inside the palace, the rooms open one into the next. Sliding doors carry bright paintings of tigers, flowers, birds and pine trees, set on gold backgrounds. These are careful reproductions of the works that survived the war. They follow the style of the Kano school, a family of official painters. Notice how the rooms grow richer as you move deeper inside. The most important guests reached the most decorated rooms.

Outside, the grounds are wide and calm. The moats are deep, and some are dry, with grass and trees growing at the bottom. In spring, cherry trees bloom along the walls, and families spread out mats beneath them. In autumn, the leaves turn red and gold. Near the gates, there is a small street of food stalls and restaurants. It serves local Nagoya dishes, such as miso cutlets and grilled eel over rice.

Now stand still for a moment. Look up at the keep once more, and find the gold at the top. Then look down at the stones beneath your feet and in the walls around you. Some were placed four centuries ago. Others were placed after the war. As you walk back toward the gate, listen again for the gravel. It is the same sound that the lords of Owari heard, every day, on their way home.