A History So Juicy, It Deserves Its Own Samurai Drama
Kawagoe: Where History Comes Alive
A History So Juicy, It Deserves Its Own Samurai Drama
There’s a place in Japan where Tokyo’s skyscrapers melt into cobblestone streets and clay-walled warehouses that have stood since samurai ruled. Welcome to Kawagoe—a town where time bends, and every corner feels like a page torn from a storybook. Picture this: lantern-lit alleyways, candy shops stocked with rainbow-coloured treats from the Showa era, and a nickname that whispers of its past—“Little Edo.”
Kawagoe isn’t just a town—it’s a time machine. You’ll see locals in kimonos sipping matcha in tea houses older than your great-grandparents, and the click-clack of wooden sandals echoing down streets that haven’t changed in centuries. But here’s the thing: most tourists race past Kawagoe for Kyoto or Osaka. Big mistake. Let me tell you about the hidden shrines, ghost stories, and samurai secrets that make this place unforgettable.
The Battle of Kawagoe: Samurai, Spies, and a Midnight Sneak Attack
Let’s set the scene: 1545. Kawagoe Castle is surrounded by 80,000 enemy troops from the Uesugi clan. Inside? Just 3,000 Hōjō warriors, starving and outnumbered. The Uesugi were so sure they’d win, they partied every night in their camp, drinking sake and roasting the Hōjō like they were already dead.
Enter Hōjō Ujiyasu, the ultimate underdog strategist. He heard about the Uesugi’s party vibes from ninja spies (yes, real ninjas), and cooked up a plan wilder than a TikTok trend. One night, his troops ditched their armor (scandalous for samurai!) and snuck into the Uesugi camp barely making a sound. They ignored the usual samurai glory moves—like collecting enemy heads—and just… slaughtered everyone. By morning, the Uesugi were toast, and the Hōjō ruled the region.
From Bloodshed to Breadbasket: Edo’s “Kitchen”
After the Hōjō era, Kawagoe became Tokyo’s grocery store during the Edo period (1603–1868). Merchants got rich selling rice, radishes, and sweet potatoes, showing off with kurazukuri—fireproof warehouses with walls so thick, they’re basically samurai bunkers.
Then in 1893, a fire burned down a third of the town. Instead of rebuilding with modern concrete, they said, “Nah, let’s keep it OG” and used the same Edo-style techniques. They even rebuilt the Bell Tower (Toki no Kane) first—a middle finger to the fire gods. It still rings four times a day, like Kawagoe’s saying, “We’re still here, suckers!”
Why Visit Kawagoe?
Candy Alley: This street is a time warp. Grab a ramune soda (with the marble stopper!) or konpeito (tiny star candies) and watch your inner 5-year-old lose their mind.
Kawagoe Festival (October): Giant floats, thunderous taiko drums, and crowds so hyped, you’ll think you’re at a feudal rave. It’s even UNESCO-listed!
Kurazukuri District: Edo-era warehouses turned into cafés, boutiques, and museums. Your Instagram feed will thank you—#NoFilterNeeded.
Photo by S. Tsuchiya
Ghosts, Glory, and Sweet Potato Ice Cream
Kawagoe’s past isn’t just in textbooks—it’s in the air. At Kitain Temple, locals swear the ghost of Matsudaira Nobutsuna (the “Lion of Edo”) glares at tourists who skip the temple’s 540 stone Buddha statues. Then there’s Yūrei-zaka (Ghost Slope), where older folks swear you’ll hear phantom armor clanking after dark.
But it’s not all spooky. Try tiptoeing across Kumano Shrine’s jagged “acupressure” stones (free foot torture = good luck, apparently) or “fishing” for love fortunes at Kawagoe Hikawa Shrine (hint: grab a red sea bream charm).
For the brave: Stay at Ryokan Matsumuraya, a family-run inn where the grandma owner serves kaiseki feasts (fancy multi-course meals) and ghost stories about samurai spirits. The building creaks like it’s haunted, but the fluffy futons and endless sake make it worth it.
And oh—the sweet potatoes. Kawagoe grows Japan’s best, turned into tempura, grilled skewers, and ice cream. It’s the perfect metaphor: a town that survived wars and fires, now dishing out comfort food with a side of history.
Foodie Alert: Ogakika
Ogakiku is a 7th-generation eel restaurant where the star dish, unaju (grilled eel over rice), comes slathered in a 200-year-old secret sauce. The building itself is a historic gem—three floors of creaky wooden glory where artists and shogi (Japanese chess) players once gambled while waiting for their eel. The name Ogakiku means “small chrysanthemum,” a nod to the flower field it once overlooked. Pro tip: The current owner still uses the same iron grill and sauce recipe from the 1800s. Go early for the “morning special” eel bowl—it’s cheaper and just as delicious.
Photo by Lucius Hunter
Final Thoughts
Kawagoe is like that friend who’s secretly cool but doesn’t brag about it. One minute you’re dodging imaginary samurai arrows, the next you’re licking sweet potato ice cream while a shopkeeper whispers about haunted slopes. It’s weird, wonderful, and 100% worth the day trip. So skip the tourist herds—Kawagoe’s waiting with open arms, a killer story, and a deep-fried sweet potato.
Photo by Diana Bondarenko