Himeji Castle

We got off the Shinkansen train and left the Himeji railway station. And then we saw it – a white castle on a hill. The view was impressive, but at first we didn’t realize just how large the castle actually was. We were standing at the station’s exit gate, facing a wide boulevard, with the castle still two or three kilometers away in the distance.

Himeji was established as a castle town in the 14th century, although the area had been inhabited for much longer before that. Himeji Castle, now one of the city’s most iconic landmarks, was originally built in the 14th century by a local lord named Akamatsu Sadanori. Over the centuries, till 17the century, the castle was expanded and renovated multiple times, eventually becoming one of the largest and most impressive castles in Japan. The town around it grew and prospered thanks to the castle’s presence, and eventually adopted the name Himeji. Today, the city is thriving, known for its rich cultural heritage and numerous historic landmarks.

As we approached the gateway to the castle grounds, we had to follow a series of winding, narrow paths between fortification walls, often taking sharp turns. We passed through a succession of smaller gates and baileys. At first, I didn’t think much of it.

In one of the chambers inside, as I looked out through a window, I realized that the castle was a vast complex of fortifications and buildings arranged around its main keep.

Himeji Castle, although never inhabited by a shogun (a military commander in Japan appointed by the Emperor, who held real power until the late 19th century), was under military ownership. As such, it was designed primarily for defensive purposes. The maze-like system of paths between fortifications, baileys, gates, and walls leading to the main keep was an intentional part of the castle’s defense strategy. The entire complex consists of 83 buildings. Remarkably, the structure also proved to be earthquake-resistant throughout its history. Himeji Castle is often referred to as the White Heron Castle, due to it resembles a heron soaring through the sky.

It came as a bit of a surprise that every visitor was asked to take off their shoes. Of course, this isn’t unusual in Japan, where it is a common practice in many places. Removing shoes indoors is a traditional custom deeply rooted in Japanese culture. It serves as a sign of respect and helps maintain cleanliness in homes, schools, temples, and other indoor spaces. One reason for this tradition is that many Japanese buildings feature tatami mats -flooring made from woven rush grass, which is delicate and easily damaged by footwear. Additionally, given Japan’s often wet and rainy climate, taking off shoes prevents mud and dirt from being brought inside. This act also symbolically separates the outside world from the interior, reinforcing a sense of hygiene and order.

Visitors to Japan are generally expected to follow this custom when entering private homes, traditional inns, and public spaces such as temples and museums. There are often clear signs and reminders in both Japanese and English to guide tourists.

But it was the first time in my life that I spent nearly two hours in a castle walking barefoot. The system was quite simple: at the entrance (which was located a fair distance from the exit), we were given plastic bags to carry our shoes throughout the visit. At the exit, we put our shoes back on and returned the bags.

Another surprise was that there was absolutely no furniture or other historical objects on display within the castle. As a result, and somewhat to our disappointment, we were given no real insight into daily life in the castle. Still, the building had undergone extensive restoration over several years and was only reopened to the public in 2015. Perhaps in the future, some of its chambers will be furnished with basic items of daily use. We shall see.

In this context, it’s helpful to remember that traditional Japanese interiors often feature low tables and cushions instead of chairs, allowing people to sit comfortably on tatami mats. This style of furniture includes zabuton (floor cushions) and chabudai (low tables). Himeji Castle, like many traditional Japanese castles, did not have beds – instead, people slept directly on tatami mats laid on the floor. Made from woven rush grass, tatami mats provide a soft, cushioned surface that is considered more comfortable than hard flooring.

Sleeping areas within the castle were typically separated by screens or sliding doors, offering privacy, and bedding was stored away in cabinets or chests during the day and brought out at night.

The real experience, however, was all about walking through long corridors and climbing steps that became steeper and steeper the higher we went. The most challenging part was navigating the narrow paths and steep stairs inside the main keep. And we weren’t alone – there were hundreds of Japanese visitors following the same route. (While taking photos, I tried to find moments when the space wasn’t crowded, so what you see in the pictures might be a bit misleading.)

The carpentry in the central part of the castle was particularly impressive. There were few separate chambers – mostly open space, in contrast to the lower parts of the castle, where rooms were arranged along long corridors. We could only imagine that the inhabited areas had once been divided in the traditional Japanese way, using movable panels. In some places, you could still see wooden rails in the floor and ceiling, marking where the partitions once stood.

Another surprise awaited us in the top chamber: it was a shrine, where many Japanese visitors paused to pay their respects to a deity (or deities). By this point in our journey through Japan, we had already come to understand that the Japanese approach to religion is quite different from what we were accustomed to in Europe. Shrines – large and small -can be found almost anywhere in Japan.

Below are some additional photo impressions of Himeji Castle’s interiors and exteriors.

During the Meiji period (1868–1912), there were plans to demolish Himeji Castle. This era, named after Emperor Meiji, marked a time of profound transformation in Japan’s political and social landscape. During the Meiji era, Japan underwent major reforms aimed at modernization and strengthening its international position. These included the abolition of the feudal system, the introduction of a modern legal and education system, and rapid industrialization through the construction of factories, railways, and infrastructure. The period also brought deep cultural changes, as many traditional customs were modified or abandoned in favor of Western-style dress, music, and language. Traditional structures were often seen as outdated and obstacles to progress.

A number of Meiji leaders believed that Japan needed to embrace modernization and break away from its feudal past in order to compete with Western powers. This mindset led to a wave of destruction targeting traditional Japanese heritage sites, which were viewed as symbols of the old order that had to be removed to make way for the future. One notable example was the demolition of Edo Castle in Tokyo, which had served as the seat of the Tokugawa shoguns for over two centuries. It was dismantled and replaced with a modern imperial palace, symbolizing Japan’s transition from the feudal era to the modern age.

However, not all Meiji-era leaders supported the destruction of historical landmarks. Some recognized the value of preserving Japan’s cultural heritage, and actively worked to protect and restore significant sites. Himeji Castle did not share the fate of Edo Castle. Thanks to the efforts of local citizens and preservationists, it was spared from destruction. In 1931, the castle was designated a National Treasure, and in 1993, it was officially recognized as a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

Walking barefoot through Himeji Castle wasn’t what I expected — and that’s what made it memorable. It wasn’t about grand interiors or displays, but about space, silence, and the way Japan chooses to protect its past. The experience stayed with me long after we left.

Himeji Castle

Cosmati mosaics

Floor mosaics in the central nave of the Lateran Archbasilica in Rome. The mosaics are the so-called Cosmati style mosaics.

The Cosmati were a family of artists and craftsmen who lived in Rome from the 12th to the 14th centuries specialising in mosaics. They were named after their founder, a craftsman named Cosimo, who worked in the late 12th century. The Cosmati family’s contribution to the art of mosaic making is significant, as their style influenced the development of mosaic work throughout Europe during the medieval period.

The Cosmati family is best known for their distinctive style of geometric mosaic work, which became known as the “Cosmati style”. Cosmati style mosaics are characterized by their intricate patterns and the use of different types of colored stones, including marble, porphyry, and other precious stones. The mosaics often include geometric shapes, such as circles, squares, and triangles, arranged in intricate patterns. The designs are often divided into compartments or panels, each with its own pattern.

Cosmati style mosaics were also used in the decoration of tombs and other funerary monuments. The tomb of Pope Clement IV, located in the Basilica of Santa Maria in Trastevere in Rome, features a Cosmati-style mosaic panel that depicts the pope in a medallion surrounded by a geometric pattern of colored stones.

 

Cosmati mosaics

Still on half-timbered houses in Northern France

Half-timbering technique was a popular method to build houses in medieval and early modern times in Northern Europe, including regions such as Denmark, England, Scotland, Germany (formerly including Prussia), parts of France, and Switzerland.

Houses were constructed by first installing timber frames as the primary structural element. The spaces between the timber (often referred to as posts or beams) were then filled with various materials such as wattle and daub, stones, or bricks, which provided insulation and stability. Half-timbered buildings were often ornamented with intricate carvings or brightly painted, adding to their aesthetic appeal.

In medieval towns, to maximize housing space along narrow streets, many houses featured overhanging upper floors extending beyond the ground floor. These overhangs are known as ‘jetties.’ Jettied houses were not only a space-saving solution but also a status symbol in some regions. The design helped protect the lower parts of the building from the elements and allowed for more space on the upper floors. It’s important to note that this technique also had practical implications in terms of taxation, as taxes were often based on the ground floor’s footprint.

The streets of historic towns in Northern France are a mixture of different architecture styles, reflecting their rich past and the impacts of various events, such as fires or war damage. In some cases, these towns have preserved their original architecture, while in others, buildings have been carefully rebuilt to mirror their historical appearance.

On pictures above you can see three main characteristics: grey sandstone bricks, slate roofs that sometimes cover also part of facades at upper floors and half-timbered walls with timber frames painted mostly in blue, red and green. Grey sandstone is locally sourced and very durable. Slate is a common roofing material in this region, known for its longevity and resistance to harsh weather. Interestingly, in some buildings, slate is also used to cover parts of the facades, especially on upper floors. The half-timbering technique, where the timber frames are left exposed and filled with other materials, is a prominent feature. In Northern France, these timber frames are often painted in vibrant colors like blue, red, and green, adding a lively contrast to the otherwise muted tones of the stone and slate.

Still on half-timbered houses in Northern France