Bando, Ibaraki
Rows of lettuces and Welsh onions stretch across the Sarushima plateau, their leaves catching the flat light of the Kantō plain. This is Bandō, on the north bank of the Tone River — a working agricultural city that has been supplying Tokyo's markets for generations, while quietly carrying a much older story beneath its fields.
That story belongs to Taira no Masakado. The national shrine Kokuō-jinja enshrines him, its main hall and wooden image designated prefectural cultural properties. Nearby, Enmei-in temple holds what is said to be his bodily relic. These are not reconstructed heritage sites but places of active veneration, where the weight of the Heian period sits alongside ordinary weekday traffic. The earthworks at Sakasai Castle, a Sengoku-era fortification of the later Hōjō clan, offer another layer — its timber-framed turrets and walls rebuilt in wood, standing at the edge of a plateau that was once contested ground.
Along the western shore of Sugao-numa, the Ibaraki Nature Museum displays fossils and specimens drawn from the region's own geology. The marsh itself draws migratory swans each year, its reeds and open water forming the largest nature conservation area in the prefecture. Sashima tea, grown in this corner of Ibaraki, and the local Bandō iwai-nabe give the place its own culinary register — modest, specific, rooted in the particular soil of the plateau.