proportions of the castle are staggering. It is fifty times larger than the Tokyo Dome and the combined length of the walls totals three miles (4.8 km). The tallest section is 85 feet (26 meters) high, built entirely without mortar so as to allow for earthquakes. When the builders ran short of stone, they resorted to tombstones, coffins and temple lanterns, some of which can be seen in the fabric of the wall. Also visible is a small grinding stone which belonged to a widow who was moved by the shortage to donate her precious kitchen implement. It prompted other donations and helped speed up the construction.
The magnificent main keep of the castle has undergone an extensive five-year restoration, which involved replastering the walls and replacing the roof tiles. The tower appears to have five floors, but there is actually a disguised sixth floor and a basement.
After the Battle of Sekigahara in 1600 the castle was awarded to Ikeda Terumasa, who enlarged the complex and added the family symbol of a swallowtail butterfly.
A man in samurai uniform poses at the entrance to the castle grounds. There were originally three moats but only the inner and parts of the central moat have survived.
The grounds of the castle are well known for cherry blossom viewing, and in early April there’s a festival with lantern illumination culminating in a performance of drums and some 100 kimono-clad harpists.
Beneath the multistoreyed tower stands one of the original 84 gates. The castle boasts formidable defences but was never, in fact, tested in battle.
Every aspect of the castle was built with defence in mind. The network of storehouses and residences was arranged in a maze-like manner so as to confuse attackers, and even today with sign-boards pointing the way tourists can find the layout baffling. The 84 gates of the original castle (only 21 remain) were designed to channel attackers into a spiral of narrow passages where they could be shot at from above. The castle walls have roughly 1,000 loopholes—circular, triangular and rectangular—from which rifles and arrows could be fired.
Some of the design details are ingenious. The castle walls are coated with white plaster that was resistant to fire, and one of the moats served as a water reserve for fire-fighting purposes.
Windows have bars that look like wood but are actually metal to prevent them being sawn through. They are also hollow inside to allow for drainage of rainwater from the roofs. The long corridors have concealed openings for rocks or boiling liquid to be dropped on attackers, while guardrooms were designed to enable ambushes. If all else failed, a special area was reserved for hara-kiri.
The connecting corridors that run along the castle walls look innocent enough but conceal ambush rooms and holes for dropping rocks on attackers.
The approach to the castle leads round bends and curves in a maze-like manner, exposing would-be attackers to the mercy of defenders.
The centerpiece of the castle is a 150-foot (46-meter) main tower, which effectively doubles the height of the hill on which it stands. From the outside it seems to have five floors but, in fact, it has six plus a basement (the fourth and fifth floors are constructed to appear as one). The structure is strengthened by two massive wooden pillars which stand on a stone foundation, and from the top are commanding views that on a clear day extend as far as the islands in the Inland Sea.
The castle’s formidable defences were never put to the test, for they were constructed at the beginning of the long period of Tokugawa stability which lasted until the mid-nineteenth century. Yet the castle’s survival today is a minor miracle, for it not only remained intact through Meiji-era modernisation when other castles were destroyed as a legacy of feudalism, but it survived the plans of a property developer to demolish it and the bombing of the surrounds in World War II; a bomb landed but didn’t explode. It also survived the destructive force of the Great Hanshin Earthquake of 1995.
The approach to the castle becomes gradually narrower and steeper, leading to exposed areas overseen by fortified corridors.
Openings in the stone walls are guarded by massive wooden gates, the last of which, smaller than the others, gives onto the central tower.
The moat not only provided defence but a source of water in case of fire. Now it allows tourists to enjoy the harmony of natural and manmade beauty.
An extensive five-year restoration program, due for completion in 2014, means that the castle will continue to be one of Japan’s great treasures, recognised by UNESCO for its exceptional historical and aesthetic value. More than simply a castle, it constitutes a masterpiece of construction which serves as tribute to the prowess of its makers. Small wonder then that it has been a favorite for film makers, including famously the James Bond movie You Only Live Twice (1967) as well as Akira Kurosawa’s samurai classic Ran (1985). Though its military use is over, Himeji Castle represents a shining showcase of Japan’s pre-industrial achievements.
Seen from below, the main tower seems to have five storeys, though a hidden basement with sewage system and washrooms makes six in all.
From the tower there are views over the outer grounds and the city beyond. The castle town has a population of half a million.
Samurai armour is constructed from plates of iron or leather connected by rivets and cord made of macramé or silk. An entire suit with helmet can weigh up to 55 pounds (25 kg).
SHIRAKAWA -GO and GOKOYAMA
TRADITIONAL MOUNTAIN VILLAGES PRESERVING AN AGE-OLD WAY OF LIFE
SHIRAKAWA-GO AND GOKOYAMA AT A GLANCE
REGISTRATION 1995, as the ‘Historic villages of Shirakawa-go and Gokoyama’.
FEATURES 3 villages comprising Ogimachi in Shirakawa-go, Gifu Prefecture, as well as Ainokura and Sugunuma in Gokoyama, Toyama Prefecture, 31 miles (50 km) to the north.
ACCESS From Takayama in Gifu Prefecture, 50
