
Sometimes you can be too tricky for your own good. In the historic Japanese samurai battle of Sekigahara in 1600, feudal Lord Kikkawa Hiroie figured he’d chosen the wrong side for victory. Known for strategy and diplomacy, he made a secret pact on the night before the battle with the enemy, eventual winner Ieyasu Tokugawa, promising not to put his troops into the Sekigahara battle if Ieyasu guaranteed the survival of his Mori clan and its lands. Subsequently, Hiroie used the vanguards under his command to block off his own side’s attack routes, ensuring that most of the Mōri army did not fight the Tokugawa troops. It is said that as the battle began, Hiroie said he was going to enjoy a long lunch!

Hiroie’s bargain did not quite hold up. I mean, who would trust a traitor? Not the wily Ieyasu apparently. Nor did a lot of Hiroie’s own Mori clansmen. Ieyasu significantly weakened the clan, preserving only about a quarter of its territories. The saving grace was that the clan did not face annihilation as many other clans who opposed Ieyasu did, nor did Ieyasu execute the Mori leaders after the battle. Hiroie was given land in the Iwakuni domain in Yamaguchi Prefecture – about a 50 minute local train ride today from Hiroshima – back then far from Ieyasu’s seat of power. Banished! Hiroie spent the rest of his life in Iwakuni developing the area, building a castle on top of Mount Shiroyama, and using the picturesque Nishiki River as a natural moat.

It took Hiroie seven years to build the castle, but once completed he was only able to enjoy it for a further seven years before the Shogun ordered it destroyed under a new ‘one castle per province’ policy. Hiroie protested as his was the only castle in his province. But, with a strong sniff of payback for a man many regarded as a traitor, his appeals fell on deaf ears. One can only imagine his distress seeing his home demolished, though apparently he managed to retain a small part of it as an office.

A concrete version of the castle was built in the early 1960’s, and it’s open to the public. But it is a unique multi arched wooden bridge built by Hiroie’s descendants over the Nishiki River in 1673 that puts Iwakuni on the world stage today. Kintaikyo Bridge ranks as one of the world’s outstanding bridge designs. It’s a Japanese National Treasure, and one of Japan’s three most famous bridges.

It is not actually the original bridge. That one was destroyed by floods a year after its completion. It was rebuilt with stronger stone piers, and it seems the samurai did a good job because it then lasted until 1950 when it was swept away in a typhoon. Officials wanted to replace it with a concrete bridge, but local people power pushed back and a precise replica of the original wooden bridge was built in 1953. Since then it’s only needed maintenance work – a compliment to the original Samurai designers and engineers.

I’ve wanted to see Kintaikyo bridge for some time – it features a lot in Japan tourist publicity. Last November (2025), I finally slowly walked across the bridge’s five arches separating the old Samurai area from the town. After visiting the Sekigahara battlefields a week earlier, it seemed a no brainer to visit Hiroie’s Iwakuni. Don’t we all love a sequel!

I visited on a day trip from Okayama – about an hour and a half train trip, with a change from a Shinkansen to a local train at the gorgeous recently revamped Hiroshima railway station. It would also be a great side trip for anyone based in Hiroshima. From Iwakuni railway station, MJ and I caught a local bus through the city suburbs to the Nishiki River and the famous bridge that separates the old Samurai area from the rest of the town. The bus ride takes about 15 minutes, meandering through Iwakuni’s suburbs.

It’s easy to appreciate how the bridge’s unusual design would be challenging for any attacking force in the Samurai period. Each section is quite steep as you navigate walking up and down the arches, with wide steps on the rises. MJ and I took our time walking across, stopping occasionally to check out anglers fishing the river. It looked idyllic. I’m pretty sure that if anyone had handed MJ a fishing rod, he would have joined them and left me to explore Iwakuni by myself!


From the bridge I could see the replica castle, high on Mount Shiroyama. It looked impressive, and there was a ropeway leading up to it. Well, not quite to the castle, as I soon found out. Firstly, you walk about 10 minutes to the ropeway through an attractive park where Samurai lords and their retainers had their homes. There’s a lot to see here, so ensure you provide yourself with plenty of time in Iwakuni.


The ropeway itself is showing its age, to the point we hoped the 3 minute ride to the top would be safe. There seemed to be a lot of rust – a little care and attention wouldn’t go astray.


Waiting for our turn to go up on the ropeway, I headed for the loo – passing the men’s loo en route. It’s unavoidable. So the Noren – traditional short curtains hung at the entrance to the men’s toilets – was a bit of a shock. There was no door, just the Noren, flying back and forth in the wind, revealing everything inside. Luckily, no one was at the urinals, or I would have had quite an unexpected view!

I presumed at the top there might be a cafe, an icecream vendor or at the very least a drinks machine. Silly me! Nothing. Perhaps it’s different on weekends. I also presumed the ropeway was taking us up right to the castle – nope! Ahead was another ten minute walk – mostly uphill – to the castle. Ten for able bodied people. Somewhat longer for me and my knee! I was in no hurry and ambled along, enjoying a pleasant walk through the forest.


The interior of the castle doesn’t reflect what the original might have looked like. Essentially it houses a museum on several floors, accessed by a stairway – no elevators. It looks like it probably was when it was set up in the 1960’s, with care and maintenance sorely needed. Even an updated painting effort would give it a much needed facelift.
It is, however, a very interesting museum about samurai life in Iwakuni, with excellent exhibits and some english signage. And yes, you can take photos – there is a sign that says so!






Best of all, if you plough up all those stairs to the top of the castle, you are rewarded by an absolutely magnificent view of Iwakuni and well beyond. On a clear day you can see the islands on the Setonaikai sea, and even the mountains on Shikoku island.

A word of warning – don’t stray from the path on the mountain. The area is home to tiny white, very poisonous snakes. These white snakes are regarded as lucky! I guess Hiroie was lucky because he saved his head by switching sides at the Sekigahara battle. Some primary leaders on the losing side who survived the battle were captured, publicly paraded, and beheaded in Kyoto. Tokugawa Ieyasu also stripped other Daimyo of their lands and possessions, forcing many into exile or to reduced status as punishment for supporting the Western Army.
As well as the white snake, there’s also pit vipers at Iwakuni. There is a saying in English – Snake in the grass – meaning a treacherous, deceitful or ‘traitorous individual lurking within a group’. Synonyms include ‘traitor, backstabber, betrayer, or hidden enemy’. I leave you to draw your own conclusions.

Hiroie, by the way, is buried in the Kikkawa Clan Family Graveyard (Kikkawa-ke Bosho) in Iwakuni.
