Orloj (The Prague Astronomical Clock)

They say petty con men hang out at Old Town Square in Prague, looking for marks for the likes of three-card monte or a shell game or bogus currency exchange schemes, which raises the question: who hasn’t heard of those cons? But I have to report that no one approached us at Old Town Square for trickery or anything else. Sometimes it’s good to old men who are essentially invisible.

We had the idea at Old Town Square that we’d see the Church of the Mother of God before Týn, which has a cool church name. Distinctive, anyway, incorporating a very local place name. Týn Courtyard, next to the church, is a small area that hosted visiting merchants at one time, and whose largess helped build the edifice. There has been a church on the site for at least 900 years, with the usual story of modifications, rebuilding, replacement, fires, style changes and of course some sectarian strife now and then. Old Town Square Prague

The church is a little off the square, but not far. In my image, it is behind the monumental memorial to Jan Hus and other Hussites, which dates only from 1915. The church wasn’t open when we dropped by. Too bad, I understand Tycho Brahe is buried near the altar; that would have been worth seeing all by itself.

Across the square is Old Town Hall, dating from the 13th century.Old Town Square Prague

On the opposite side from my image, Old Town Hall is the site of the Orloj – the astronomical clock that doesn’t concern itself with whether most people can read it. The master clockmaker and the few learned men who could read it when it was new probably didn’t concern themselves with that fact either. Why would they?

The crowds don’t go to read it anyway, but to watch the mechanical figures move on the hour. We arrived just as that was happening early on the afternoon of March 12.Old Town Square Prague Old Town Square Prague

“Starting in the 13th century, astronomical clocks began springing up around Europe, using intricate functions to show information such as lunar phases, the position of the sun and moon, and the zodiac at any given moment,” My Modern Met explains.

Work on the Prague clock started a little later than that, in 1410. Again as usual with something that old, modifications and additions and changes and restorations have been made over the years, including as recently as 2018Old Prague Astronomical Clock

“The figurines, which were added in the 1600s, represent four vices [sic, death is a vice?]. Vanity is shown as a man admiring himself in a mirror, a miser holding a bag of gold represents greed, while another strumming an instrument is to show lust or earthly greed. The fourth sculpture, a skeleton, represents death and rings the bell each hour as the other figurines shake their heads.”Old Prague Astronomical Clock

After the 1 p.m. movement of the figurines, the crowd thinned out. Old Prague Astronomical Clock

If I understand correctly (no promises), the time-keeping aspects of the clock includes three different systems: a conventional 24-hour clock, a 24-clock that whose zero hour is at sunset –  both new and competing systems when the clock was built – and an older system of unequal hours, whose length depended on the time of the year, something like the Romans used (12 hours by day, four watches at night), though it is thought to date back to Babylon.

“But the clock is about much more than telling time,” My Modern Met continues. “Two separate wands representing the sun and the moon move around the zodiac ring. The sun moves counterclockwise against the ring, and gives an indication of where the sun and moon are in their orbit around the Earth.

“The moon wand is half white and half black in order to show the current cycle of the moon. Interestingly, the rotation of the ball showing the lunar phases is entirely owed to gravity, something unique in this genre of timekeeping.

“A small golden star shows the position of the vernal equinox and sidereal time based on the Roman numerals.”

Most of that wasn’t anything I could understand just looking up at the clock, and I’m not entirely sure I can piece it together in the comfort of my home office. Still, the intricacies and metalwork are marvels to behold — representing a remarkable store of pre-modern knowledge and mechanical aptitude — and behold them we did.

The Jantar Mantar of Jaipur

Apparently Sawai Jai Singh II (d. 1743), Raja of Amber and founder and Raja of Jaipur, had a keen interest in astronomy, because he commissioned the construction of six naked-eye observatories — jantar mantars – in his realm in the early 18th century. The one in Jaipur itself is a complex of structures hard to understand without explanation. Or even with explanation a lot of the time.

I didn’t take that picture, since that vantage was unavailable, or at least I didn’t know about it. Someone calling himself Knowledge Seeker thoughtfully released the image into the public domain, however. It gives a sense of the layout of instruments in a sort of plaza, though it doesn’t depict the large sundial, except right at the lower left corner. Just behind the Jantar Mantar is City Palace, more about which eventually, but which Jai Singh II also had built. One of those busy kings, sounds like.

The Jantar Mantar observatory in Jaipur constitutes the most significant and best preserved set of fixed monumental instruments built in India in the first half of the 18th century; some of them are the largest ever built in their categories,” UNESCO says, for indeed it is a World Heritage Site, which are thick on the ground in India. “Designed for the observation of astronomical positions with the naked eye, they embody several architectural and instrumental innovations.

This is the kind of place that reminds me once again how little I know. Such as about Indian astronomy, thousands of years in the making. A familiarity with that subject might help answer the question I have – why didn’t Jai Singh II incorporate places for telescopes? I feel certain he would have had some, imported or locally made.

The Jantar Mantar is also good for some gee-whiz moments, such as looking up at the world’s largest sundial.Jantar Mantar of Jaipur Jantar Mantar of Jaipur  Jantar Mantar of Jaipur

Our affable guide in Jaipar that day, Ali, points to the time on the enormous dial plate. The instrument is capable of measuring time to an accuracy of two seconds (with some caveats; see “How accurate is it?” on this page). Jantar Mantar of Jaipur

He asserted that the sundial is indeed the world’s largest, though I’ve seen other sources that weasel with such phrasing as “one of.” I’ll go with Ali on this one: the largest in the world, unless I find out about a bigger one, and I’m not going to look very hard.

Ali also told us that his father was a tour guide in Jaipur, as was his father before him, which is some span, since he might have been close to my age. He was knowledgeable enough that being in the family biz seemed likely. He also might have had information about the use of telescopes back then, but I forgot to ask.

Other instruments, whose descriptions I read on English signs next to the Hindi, but which are less easy to understand than a sundial, except to say they are useful for tracking objects in the sky. Jantar Mantar of Jaipur  Jantar Mantar of Jaipur  Jantar Mantar of Jaipur

More structures, either built upward or downward. Jantar Mantar of Jaipur  Jantar Mantar of Jaipur

Of course each instrument has a purpose and a name – such as Samrat Yantra, Jaya Prakasa, and Rama Yantra, which supposedly Jai Singh II designed himself. Detailed information is at jantarmantar.org. Even without a tight grip on all the details, there’s no doubt that the Jantar Mantar of Jaipur is impressive, besides having an impressive name that rolls right off your tongue.

Church of Saint Nicholas, Prague

Regards for Easter. Back to posting on April 21.

Old Town Square, Prague, on a gray day in March.Old Town Square Prague Old Town Square Prague

Facing the Old Town Square, though not in those images, is the Church of Saint Nicholas (Kostel svatého Mikuláše), a site with a history as varied as it is long. There was a church there since at least the 12th century and, knowing how these things go, probably some sacred space well before that.Church of St. Nicholas, Prague Church of St. Nicholas, Prague Church of St. Nicholas, Prague

When Hussites had their moment, they used the church. Afterward, Premonstratensians used it, and then Benedictines set up a monastery there. When their time had run its course, the temporarily secularized building was for a time a storehouse, and – a little hard to imagine, but this is what a sign in the church said – a music hall. Religion returned in 1920 in the form of revived Hussites newly independent of Rome, who use the church to this day.

How many Czech Hussites are there these days? World Atlas asserts fewer than 40,000, which is fewer than 0.4 percent of the population. But that hardly counts as a long-term win for this particular Counter-Reformation, if you can call it that. The largest categories of religion in the modern Czech Republic are “Undeclared” and “No Religion,” totaling nearly 80 percent.

The 21st-century visitor to St. Nicholas sees a bit of urban renewal from the 18th century, to use a term that the ecclesiastical authorities who wanted a new building back then surely didn’t use, even in the unlikely event they’d used English. I’ll bet the old Gothic church on the site was worn out and just so 12th century anyway. Out with Gothic, in with Baroque.Church of St. Nicholas, Prague Church of St. Nicholas, Prague

St Nicholas Prague St Nicholas Prague

Looks like St. George, doing what is expected of him: dealing with the dragon.

Tsuyu Tenjinsha Shrine (Ohatsu Tenjin), Osaka

Tucked away in the Umeda district of Osaka – a sort of downtown, with a heavy concentration of office, hotels and retail, along with the city’s busiest train station – is a Shinto shrine whose early history tends to be described (in English, anyway) using such phrases as “said to be” and “legend has it.”

While crossing on a pedestrian overpass a few days after arriving in Japan, I noticed the main torii for Tsuyu Tenjinsha Shrine (Ohatsu Tenjin). I must have visited the shrine in the 1990s. But when I got there this time, I had no memory of it. An odd feeling.Tsuyu Tenjinsha Shrine (Ohatsu Tenjin) Tsuyu Tenjinsha Shrine (Ohatsu Tenjin)

Clearly not ancient construction, or even that old. The U.S. Army Air Corps swept the area with a broom of fire in 1945, necessitating a reconstruction a decade or so later. A machine translation from the shrine web site tells of its hazy early centuries.

“[The] shrine was established on its current site, which was one of the small islands in Osaka Bay, to worship Sumiyoshi Sumuji Sone no Kami, and it is one of the former sites of the Naniwa Yasoshima Festival…

“The date of its founding is unclear, but since the Naniwa Yasoshima Festival can be traced back to the third year of the Kasho era (850) during the reign of Emperor Montoku, and the area is said to have been in place by the time of Emperor Kinmei in the sixth century, the origins of this shrine can be inferred to date back to that time.”Tsuyu Tenjinsha Shrine (Ohatsu Tenjin) Tsuyu Tenjinsha Shrine (Ohatsu Tenjin) Tsuyu Tenjinsha Shrine (Ohatsu Tenjin) Tsuyu Tenjinsha Shrine (Ohatsu Tenjin)

One of many such old shrines dotting the Kansai, in other words, many of which may still be around but which are still small, honoring obscure kami. But this one happened to be at the heart of Osaka during the Meiji era boom, and apparently grew with the city.

“The opening of the first Osaka Station in 1894 and Hankyu Railway Umeda Station in 1905 spurred the development of the area, and this shrine has come to be revered as the central guardian deity of Umeda and Sonezaki, in the heart of Osaka’s ‘kita’ [north] area,” the shrine notes.

That may be, but that isn’t why many people go there in our time. They go to offer prayers asking for better fortune in their romantic lives, whatever form that might take. Since I visited only a few days ahead of St. Valentine’s Day – another example of any number of cross-cultural WTFs you can find in Japan – the shrine was thick with prayers written on pink paper hearts.Tsuyu Tenjinsha Shrine (Ohatsu Tenjin) Tsuyu Tenjinsha Shrine (Ohatsu Tenjin) Tsuyu Tenjinsha Shrine (Ohatsu Tenjin) Tsuyu Tenjinsha Shrine (Ohatsu Tenjin)

I understand these slightly more permanent wooden plaques, known as ema, are young girls praying for beauty.Tsuyu Tenjinsha Shrine (Ohatsu Tenjin)

Why is this shrine associated with romance? That’s better attested, and something of an accident of history.

“Today the shrine is better known for its romantic associations, as it is a key setting of the bunraku puppet play: The Love Suicides of Sonezaki,” notes Osaka Station.

“The play tells the tragic story of two star-crossed lovers, the geisha Ohatsu and the apprentice trader Tokubei, and it was supposedly based on a historical double suicide that took place at the shrine in 1703. In the play an unfortunate combination of family pressures, financial misfortune, and the betrayal of a friend, threaten to keep the lovers apart. Unable to live without each other, they meet at the shrine and take their own lives.”

What is the opposite of star-crossed lovers, anyway? Star-aligned, maybe; one of those couples who end up celebrating a diamond anniversary without having grown to hate each other.

The popular name of the shrine, Ohatsu Tenjin, refers to the geisha of the story. Ohatsu and Tokubei are acknowledged at the shrine. Tsuyu Tenjinsha Shrine (Ohatsu Tenjin)

The shrine is surrounded by the buildings of Umeda and from its precincts you can exit into a shopping street. As with most such pedestrian streets in Japan, there are many small eateries.

I didn’t go there, but I can’t say I wasn’t curious.

Ampelmann

Spend enough time as a pedestrian in the former East Berlin – and it doesn’t actually take that long – and you begin to notice that the Walk/Don’t Walk signals aren’t like anywhere else. Green and red, respectively, like everywhere else, but otherwise unique cartoon men in hats.

This is the Walk sign.Ampelmann in situ

That probably would have remained a passing thought for us, but at the Berlin Hauptbahnhof we spotted a store selling goods and souvenirs based on the cartoon man, who has a name: Ampelmann, that is, Traffic Light Man. The postcards were a bit expensive, but I was so amused I bought one to send and one to keep.

I sent the Walk green Ampelmann and kept the card with the Don’t Walk red Ampelmann (see below), who stands in front of various noteworthy structures in Berlin, such as the Brandenburg Gate, the TV tower at Alexanderplatz, and the Victory Column in the Tiergarten. The Walk green Ampelmann card has the same structures, but he’s strolling past them.

We also picked up an fine intangible souvenir when we learned about Traffic Light Man and his robust gait and distinctive headwear. It’s hard to know when you’ll find those, but find them you do if you’re paying just a little attention. Also, he’s a bit of fun on the beaten path — what could be more literally a beaten path than a street crosswalk?

The woman behind the counter told me that the lights were created in East Berlin in the 1960s, and when reunified Berlin wanted to phase them out in the 1990s, Berliners east and west weren’t having it. By then he was no mere traffic accessory, but a small yet vivid cultural phenomenon, star of comic strips, games and radio spots. He was too popular to be erased from street crossings throughout the east. So he remains, a rare beloved relic of the DDR, though I understand his backlights are now thoroughly modern LEDs.

I got an additional souvenir in the form of a bag from the shop.Ampelmann bag Ampelmann bag

The story of Ampelmann, first drawn in 1961, is told by the web site of that name, including information about his creator, Berlin resident Karl Peglau (d. 2009), who is described as a traffic psychologist. I can’t ever remember hearing about that profession before, but I’d say that traffic in a lot of places could use professional help. Whatever your job, you could do a lot worse for a legacy than Ampelmann.

The main Ampelmann shop is on Unter den Linden. We must have walked right past it. But somehow we didn’t miss the DDR Museum a little further on, where the thoroughfare is called Karl-Liebknecht-Straße – another relic of East Berlin (before that, it was Kaiser-Wilhelm-Straße).

We didn’t feel like visiting the museum itself, but we did go to the gift shop.

As my wont, I got a few more postcards, while Jay got a refrigerator magnet. This one: Marx, Engels and Lenin. None of them, of course, lived long enough to encounter refrigerator magnets, but I’m pretty sure they would have denounced them as bourgeois frivolity. All the more reason to get some.

Jewish Museum in Prague

One good thing about the historic core of Prague, at least for old visitors, are the small squares (náměstí?) with benches and sometimes trees. Walkability doesn’t mean much if you can’t sit down at regular intervals, and old Prague provides that, unlike some other pedestrian-intense places on this trip (and I mean you, Osaka).

We stopped often at this one, often as our first rest out from the hotel. Once Jay waited here for a few minutes while I wisely went back to the hotel to fetch a cap to wear.

We stopped here more than once as well.

Of course, in early March, the air was distinctly cool, and the squares weren’t so green. Or quite so busy. The views from the first small square looked more like this.Prague 2025

During our first ramble through the old city on March 11, we came across this unnerving figure.Prague 2025 Kafka Prague 2025 Kafka

Kafka. Of course. Rub the shoes for luck? Isn’t there only one kind of luck for Kafka, and it isn’t good? The bronze dates from 2003 and inspired by one of his lesser-known stories, “Description of a Struggle,” which I haven’t read, but which sounds Kafkaesque all right.

I had to look up the sculptor, Jaroslav Róna, a resident of Prague and a member of its small but enduring Jewish community. Looks like he specializes in unsettling figures, so Kafka would be right up his alley.

I don’t know whether it is coincidence or not, but the statue happens to be near the Spanish Synagogue (Španělská synagoga). An exceptional piece of work, dating from 1868, built on the site of a much older synagogue. There has been a Jewish community in the city since at least the 10th century of the Common Era.Prague 2025 Kafka Prague 2025 Kafka

Now a museum, the Spanish Synagogue – referring to the Moorish Revival style – is part of the Jewish Museum in Prague, which oversees a half-dozen or so structures in the former Jewish quarter, including the aforementioned Pinkas Synagogue and Old Jewish Cemetery.

After decades of misuse and neglect, beginning with the Nazis and continuing under the Communists, the Spanish Synagogue was restored not long after the Velvet Revolution. It is magnificent.Spanish Synagogue Prague Spanish Synagogue Prague Spanish Synagogue Prague

The view from the upper level.Spanish Synagogue Prague Spanish Synagogue Prague

Another synagogue-turned-museum is the Maisel Synagogue (Maiselova synagoga).Maisel Synagogue Prague Maisel Synagogue Prague

What would a Jewish museum in Prague be without mentioning everyone’s favorite clay man animated by one of the names of the Lord? On display at the Maisel.Maisel Synagogue Prague Maisel Synagogue Prague

An active congregation gathers at the Old-New Synagogue (Staronová Synagoga), another of the historic structures.

It was once the New Synagogue, then there was a newer one; so it became Old-New, built in late 13th century of the Common Era. More than one source says that Staronová Synagoga is the oldest active synagogue in Europe.Maisel Synagogue Prague Maisel Synagogue Prague Maisel Synagogue Prague Maisel Synagogue Prague

Yes.

Palm Monorail, Dubai

What was the monorail pitch like, for the line that now runs along the trunk of the Palm Jumeirah in Dubai? The Palm Monorail, it’s called.

Well, sir, there’s nothing on Earth like a genuine, bona fide, electrified, six-car monorail!

What’d I say?

Monorail!

What’s it called?

Monorail!

That’s right!

Monorail!

There probably wasn’t that much singing, or that much English, but whatever happened, the line has been up and running for about a decade and a half now. A go-to source (Wiki) tells me that it is the only monorail in the Middle East, which if true ought to spur the likes of Saudi Arabia into some monorail development, maybe in lieu of grander projects.Palm Monorail Palm Monorail

Sleek styling, as monorails ought to have, built by Hitachi Rail. Driverless.

I rode its entire 3.4-mile length and back on March 2, as part of my excursion to Palm Jumeirah. Levity aside, I can report a wholly positive experience. The ride didn’t cost much, the wait wasn’t long, the cars were busy but not packed, and the vantage offered some terrific views of the artificial islands that comprise Palm Jumeirah – the trunk and fronds, as they’re called, and their linear neighborhoods spreading out, always along the ocean.

I also wonder whether the monorail was an important enough component of the overall Palm Jumeirah project for decision-makers toward the very top – even the emir himself – to focus on it. Hard to say, since Palm Jumeirah was an epic project that involved creating a palm-shaped island with seven miles of coastline from 120 million cubic meters of sand and other material dredged from the sea, along with mountain rocks, putting a breakwater mostly around it, plus adding roads, bridges, utility networks and sundry infrastructure.

What set all that in motion was the pronouncement, “So let it be written, so let it be done.”

What’s one monorail in all that?Palm Jumeirah Palm Jumeirah

First stop, Nakeel Mall, named for the company that developed the Palm Jumeirah. Large enough, but nothing on the order of Dubai Mall, except for the high count of carriage-trade stores. The mall also provided access, down an outdoor staircase, to Al Ittihad Park, which runs part of the length of the trunk under the monorail.Palm Jumeirah Palm Jumeirah

Two walking-jogging trails run the length of the park as well. I walked.Palm Jumeirah Palm Jumeirah

The park is hemmed in by sizable structures on each side whose first floor (ground floor) is populated by high-end service providers, such as Petsville Palm Jumeirah, The Blowout Bar, The Golden Mile Gallery, Bedashing Beauty Lounge, and KIBERone IT school for children.

There were a fair number of benches for idlers and old men, but not a lot of occupants. I accessed a bench and for a little while watched a steady trickle of people walking the path, and mothers (or nannies) with young children visiting the playgrounds. Foliage blocked part of the sun, which was borderline intense that day.Palm Jumeirah

Quite the place, this neighborhood: created out of nothing not long ago, then Money was invited to live here. Money from wherever. And so it has, with an estimated population of about 25,000 out on the trunk and fronds.

You can speculate about some soggy future for such low-lying territory, but for now, it’s prime real estate. That means that engineers, who are paid to do so, are thinking about upgrades. I can’t pretend any knowledge of hydrology, so for all I know, their efforts will match those of King Cnut, but the abstract makes for interesting reading.

The end of the line for the monorail is at the tip of the Palm. A district of resorts, hotels and more upscale shopping.Palm Jumeirah
Palm JumeirahA short walk takes you from the station to a seaside path within sight of the storied Persian Gulf.Palm Jumeirah Palm Jumeirah Palm Jumeirah

Very storied. Going back at least to Sumer, up the coast a long way, but still on the shore of this sea.

Humayun’s Tomb, Isa Khan’s Tomb, Delhi

Just outside the gates of Humayun’s Tomb in Delhi, I spotted postcards for a sale from a street vendor, which was a rarity. I paused to look. That was a mistake. Before you could say boo, several other vendors – those that didn’t even have a spot on the near the gates, but who carried their wares around – were in my face. Inexpensive jewelry-, souvenir- and tchotchke-wallas. The only thing for it was to keep moving.

We were at the tomb on February 19. As a Mughal emperor, Humayun (d. 1556) rated one of considerable splendor.Humayun’s Tomb Humayun’s Tomb

“Persian and Indian craftsmen worked together to build the garden-tomb, far grander than any tomb built before in the Islamic world,” notes UNESCO, for indeed the tomb complex is a World Heritage Site. “Humayun’s garden-tomb is an example of the charbagh (a four quadrant garden with the four rivers of Quranic paradise represented), with pools joined by channels.”Humayun’s Tomb Humayun’s Tomb

“The mausoleum itself stands on a high, wide terraced platform with two bay deep vaulted cells on all four sides,” UNESCO continues. “It has an irregular octagon plan with four long sides and chamfered edges. It is surmounted by a 42.5 m high double dome clad with marble flanked by pillared kiosks (chhatris) and the domes of the central chhatris are adorned with glazed ceramic tiles.

“The interior is a large octagonal chamber with vaulted roof compartments interconnected by galleries or corridors. This octagonal plan is repeated on the second storey. The structure is of dressed stone clad in red sandstone with white and black inlaid marble borders. Humayun’s garden-tomb is also called the ‘dormitory of the Mughals’ as in the cells are buried over 150 Mughal family members.”

A precursor to the Taj Mahal, it is said. I can see that. But Humayun wasn’t the only eminence to have a mausoleum on the grounds. There are others, such as that of Isa Khan (d. 1548), who was there first.

A more manageable-sized mausoleum.Isa Khan's Tomb Isa Khan's Tomb Isa Khan's Tomb Isa Khan's Tomb

Isa Khan wasn’t royalty, but rather a noble, in service of the short-lived Sur Empire, whom the Mughals eventually overcame.

Seems easier to appreciate the details in a smaller-scale edifice.Isa Khan Isa Khan Isa Khan

Not far from his tomb is a mosque named for him.Isa Khan Mosque Isa Khan Mosque

Also has some worthwhile detail.Isa Khan's mosque

Humayun and Isa Khan: Not on the same side in life, but in death good neighbors.

Nagoya Castle

Spring tugged back on Friday, windy and warm, touching somewhere in the 70s, with some warmth continuing over the weekend. Only a little warmer than it was in Nagoya on February 15. A nice day for an outing there.

We arrived by rail. That marvel of intercity top-speed train transportation, the Shinkansen, connects Tokyo and Osaka, and being a creature of JR (Japan Railways), you can use a Japan Rail Pass to travel on it: a pass good on JR for unlimited rides on a fixed number of days. Our passes in hand, we went from Osaka to Tokyo, and later back again.

On the way back to Osaka, we stopped for an afternoon in Nagoya, a city that most North Americans wouldn’t know. Just like most Japanese probably don’t know (for example) Indianapolis, unless they are into auto racing. Deeply into it, that is. There have to be some of those.

Whatever the enthusiasm, there is a node or a knot or a cluster or a clutch of Japanese devotees – and I’m thinking of a kicker bar I heard about in the ’90s somewhere in Japan, which may or may not have existed, but that was definitely in the realm of the possible. Decked out in someone’s idea of a ’50s Southern honky-tonk, the joint offered both kinds of music every weekend, country and western, and most of the patrons decked out themselves in their idea of country duds, including most importantly, cowboy hats.

We squeezed our luggage in a station coin locker, found the right bus stop, and rode to Nagoya Castle (名古屋城) in about 10 minutes.Nagoya Castle Nagoya Castle Nagoya Castle

As Japanese cities go, Nagoya isn’t ancient, though it sounds like people have lived scattered in the area for thousands of years. The city got up and running because of the needs of the new ruling elite, in their efforts to remain so, in the early Edo period. A new castle was just the thing. The engineers and stonemasons got to work on it in the 1610s, though who on the project would have known the Gregorian decade?

Pictured above is the main keep, a 1950s reconstruction, since the original was destroyed in 1945. The reconstruction, done in steel-reinforced concrete, hasn’t aged well, and these days the castle interior is closed due to safety concerns. One really strong earthquake might be bad for anyone who happened to be inside, no doubt. If I understand correctly, there is a plan to rebuild the keep once again, this time closer to the original, since the place was extensively documented in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Probably up to modern seismic standards, however.

A nearby structure, Hommaru Palace, was rebuilt in the early 2010s, and is open at no extra charge.Nagoya Castle

Having a castle is one thing, but in the long period of peace during the Edo period, the Owari lords of castle needed more convenient administrative offices and residences. A samurai palace, in other words. The place is sumptuous. Hommaru Palace  Hommaru Palace  Hommaru Palace

“This luxurious architectural style, known as Shoin-zukuri, was preferred by the samurai caste as formality and etiquette were highly valued,” Nagoya City’s web site says. “Each room’s styling denoted its rank, while the lord’s audience chamber is positioned at a higher elevation than the other rooms as a show of authority.” Hommaru Palace  Hommaru Palace

There are other open buildings on the castle grounds. Including a tea house, since samurai were fond of their tea.Nagoya Castle grounds Nagoya Castle grounds Nagoya Castle grounds

I only took a few images in Nagoya that didn’t involve the castle and environs, since mostly that was what we had time for. But I did document a few other sites.Nagoya KFC

Sorry to report that I found no statues of Harlan Sanders in Nagoya or elsewhere in Japan this time, though his reassuring face (except for chickens) was represented at the locations I saw, such as above. What I saw represented a small sample, of course, and maybe I missed the Col. Sanders statues. Every Japanese KFC ought to have one, if you ask me. That counts as today’s eccentric opinion.

The Old Jewish Cemetery & The Pinkas Synagogue, Prague

Memory’s a dodgy bastard, so I’ll never be sure whether or not I saw souvenir golems for sale in Prague in 1994, when I bought a book of Golem stories. Maybe there were some, but those were the early years of the post-communist tourist economy. It takes a while to ramp up the tourist merch. I am sure, however, that I saw them in just about every gift shop we visited in the Czech capital in 2025. Some smaller, some larger, some gray, many the color of a dirty orange flower pot.

I decided not to buy one, though it might have been a good office-shelf companion to my figure of Ganesha or the meditating Bigfoot. But you never can be sure about golems, and since I don’t have the learning or wisdom of Rabbi Loew of Prague, the thing might get out of hand.

I also don’t remember any of the historic synagogues being open during my first visit. I’ve read that the nonprofit that manages them, the Jewish Museum in Prague, was only re-established in 1994, so I expect that most of the structures were still closed in those days.

One place that was open in ’94 was the Old Jewish Cemetery (Starý židovský hřbitov), but only for a glimpse.

Now you can take a stroll through the cemetery, which is adjacent to the Pinkas Synagogue (Pinkasova synagoga), on a stone path that snakes through the grounds. That’s one thing we did on March 11. It remains one of my favorite cemeteries.Old Jewish Cemetery, Prague Old Jewish Cemetery, Prague Old Jewish Cemetery, Prague

I like the seeming chaos of the stones. Not only were people buried close to each other, they were interred in layers. I’ve read that as the cemetery grew more crowded, and use of an ossuary wasn’t an option, more soil was added, and new layers of the dead were added. You do notice, being there, that the ground tends to be higher than street level in most places, with the cemetery walls holding in the excess earth.Old Jewish Cemetery, Prague Old Jewish Cemetery, Prague Old Jewish Cemetery, Prague

Burials occurred from the early 15th to the late 18th centuries. A few of the stones were also marked with modern plaques, denoting a notable permanent resident. Such as one Avigdor Kara (d. 1439).

Or Wolf Spira-Wedeles, mentioned here in passing. By the time he died (1715), some notables were receiving larger memorials, such as his.Old Jewish Cemetery, Prague

I remembered to take a few black-and-whites.Old Jewish Cemetery, Prague Old Jewish Cemetery, Prague Old Jewish Cemetery, Prague

Monochrome suits the texture and austere beauty of the Old Jewish Cemetery, I believe.

The adjacent Pinkas Synagogue hasn’t had a congregation in a long time. In our time, it serves as a memorial to the Czech Jews murdered during the Holocaust. Inside you can visit two floors.Pinkas Synagogue Pinkas Synagogue

On the walls on both floors are the names of the dead, and their birth and death dates, if known, inked by hand.Pinkas Synagogue Pinkas Synagogue

About 80,000 names in all.