常慶寺

“A delta?” someone whispered, eyebrows raised as they gazed upon the burgeoning city. “Who could have imagined building a castle on a delta?” It’s true, the very ground upon which Hiroshima stands is a testament to ambition and engineering. Before the castle, before the bustling streets, this was a humble delta, “Goka,” or “Gokason,” they called it – “Five Villages” – huddled at the edge of the land. Then, in 1589, a powerful feudal lord named Terumoto Mori saw potential in this watery expanse. He envisioned a castle, a stronghold, a beacon of power. Thus began the transformation of the delta. The humble name of Goka was replaced with a name that spoke of grandeur and aspiration: Hiroshima, “Wide Island.” As Mori’s vision took shape, the delta was tamed, the land reclaimed, and the foundations of Hiroshima Castle were laid. This ambitious undertaking required more than just stone and wood. It required people. From across Mori’s domain, samurai families relocated, bringing with them their history and traditions. Skilled artisans and laborers flocked to Hiroshima, drawn by the promise of work and a new life. The delta, once a peaceful backwater, was reborn as a bustling castle town, a testament to Mori’s vision. And that, my friends, is how the Hiroshima we know today, a city forever marked by its past but resolutely facing the future, first took root on a delta.