The story of Katamachi's lanes lead to the Nagamachi samurai district, · 3 min · English

From Neon to Nostalgia: The Hidden Path to Nagamachi

A narrated story about Katamachi's lanes lead to the Nagamachi samurai district, — press play, or read it below.

Avsha narrates a story about wherever you are — any street, in your language. Free to start, no account.

The story

Standing here by the Sai River, you are currently at the edge of Katamachi, the vibrant pulse of modern Kanazawa. To your back is the river, which locals often call the Male River because of its wide, strong, and sometimes turbulent flow. Ahead of you, the city sparkles with glass storefronts, fashion boutiques, and the neon glow of the nightlife district.

But we aren’t staying in the twenty-first century for long. Just a few turns away from the main thoroughfare, the sounds of traffic begin to fade, replaced by a silence that feels heavy with history. As we step into these narrow side lanes, the modern world begins to peel away.

The asphalt gives way to a labyrinth of cobblestones and ochre-colored earthen walls. This is the Nagamachi district, the historic residential area for the retainers of the powerful Maeda clan. During the Edo period, Kanazawa was one of the wealthiest cities in Japan, known as the Kaga Domain.

The Maeda family ruled this land with immense wealth, and they surrounded their castle with these protective neighborhoods where their samurai lived and trained. Look closely at the walls flanking the paths. These are tsuchikabe—traditional earthen walls made of mud and straw.

They are topped with dark gray tiles designed to shed the heavy rains of the Hokuriku region. If you happen to be visiting during the winter months, you will see these walls wrapped in komogake, which are thick, hand-woven straw mats. These mats are a signature sight in Kanazawa, installed every December to prevent the freezing snow and ice from cracking the mud walls.

It gives the entire neighborhood the appearance of being dressed in heavy winter coats. Beside you, the Onogawa and Kuratsuki canals flow with a steady, rhythmic hum. These aren’t just for decoration; they are engineering marvels of the seventeenth century.

Centuries ago, these waters were the lifeblood of the city, used for fire prevention, transport, and even powering the mills of local craftsmen. Imagine a samurai in a formal silk kimono walking these very same paths, his two swords tucked into his belt, perhaps pausing by this water to listen to the same current you hear now. The homes behind these gates belonged to middle-to-high-ranking samurai.

Unlike the crowded merchant districts, these estates were spacious, hidden behind high walls to provide privacy for families who lived by a strict code of honor and discipline. This transition—from the neon energy of Katamachi to the hushed, watery lanes of Nagamachi—is the true essence of Kanazawa. It is a place where the present doesn’t replace the past, but rather walks right alongside it.

Take a moment to breathe in the scent of damp earth and old wood. You have just stepped back four hundred years, and the city’s heart is beating just as strongly now as it did then.

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