Japan’s Nada festival is a muscular celebration of Shinto tradition, masculinity and community. Simon Rowe reports (from a safe distance)

Thunder rolls across the village of Mega, but no one looks to the sky. This is not a bad weather omen. The rumbling is the sound of taiko drums, and the deep, even volleys of their drummers are a beacon to hundreds of spectators who pass through the tight streets of wood and tiled-roof houses to the village centre.

This morning is a chance for Toshiyuki Onishi to view close up the enormous chariot, called a yatai, which his village’s men will carry into ‘battle’ the next day, as they take part in a gruelling contest of strength and machismo.

Then, there will be blood, sweat, shouting, confrontation and confusion. There might even be death.

For two days in mid-October, the fearless menfolk of Mega and six other villages which make up the district of Nada in Honshu, the largest of Japan’s islands, join together to put on one of the region’s most spectacular autumn festivals – the Nada no kenka matsuri, or Nada fighting festival.

Onishi-san, now in his early 60s, is a veteran of more fighting festivals than he can remember.

Later, as we share a large bottle of sake in his vast tatami mat covered living room, I spy three amulet scarves, laid out on the sacred alcove next to a Buddhist altar and a set of samurai armour. These, he says, belong to his sons who now carry the Mega yatai. Embroidered with silk tigers and magical creatures, they are given by wives and girlfriends to protect the men from harm during the festival.

Not that the steel workers and fisher folk of Nada district, which lies west of Osaka on the shores of the Seto Inland Sea, are afraid of getting hurt.

‘This is an age-old Shinto festival, a time to worship the gods. But our masculinity and community spirit are also on show. There is no room for fear,’ says Koki Matsumoto, 56, who hails from Higashi-yama village and can proudly say that he has never missed a festival since the day he was born.

On the festival calendar, autumn holds special meaning for the Japanese. Once the rice is harvested in early October, towns and villages throughout the archipelago thank the gods for the bounty by throwing parties.

Around 100,000 spectators, laden with food-filled bento boxes and sake, is no small party – and that is the size of the merry crowd that besieges Otabiyama, the sacred mountain up which three mikoshi, small portable shrines, are carried from Matsubara Hachiman Shrine on the second day of the festival. These, explains Matsumoto-san, are the ‘limousines of the gods’, transporting them to the best vantage point where they can enjoy the proceedings below.

One small tatami mat space on the mountain’s terraced slopes will cost a mortal spectator a hefty ¥10,000 ($84), yet you will hear few complain for the spectacle which follows makes it all worthwhile.

After mountain-top blessings, the three mikoshi teams charge back down to the arena where each will fight for all its worth in a series of clashes where the aim is to mount the shrine onto the opponent’s. It is a scene that has all the colour and commotion of a medieval battle.

The Nada region’s fighting spirit, said to be more than 400 years in the making, is entrenched. The district lies to the south of Himeji, a hardworking steel town once the abode of shoguns and their samurai clans, and the birthplace of Japan’s largest criminal group, the Yamaguchi-gumi. Its distinctly tattooed members sometimes appear among the yatai ranks during the festival.

The most potent symbol, however, is the yatai itself: a colossal, heavily decorated chariot carried on wooden beams, each hewn from a single tree, on the bearers’ shoulders. ‘My father was born in Nada and it was my childhood dream to carry our village yatai,’ says 37-year-old Shigeki Uno, whose muscled shoulders and compact stature make him well suited for the job. ‘I finally got my chance when I turned 17. It’s rare to be allowed to carry it so young.’

Even when spread over the shoulders of 70 adult men, the weight – almost two tonnes after it is loaded with a taiko drum and four drummers – is considerable. The cost of maintaining these giants is equally burdensome. Around ¥400,000 ($3,400) is needed yearly for running repairs alone. To design and build one takes more than ¥20,000,000 ($170,000), and that does not include bronze, lacquer, silk, and tin fittings, which must all be made by hand.

It is a clear autumn sky and a languid inland sea that form the backdrop for the festival’s first day. Standing outside the yatai house, Onishi-san and I are showered by sea salt thrown by the Mega men ritually to purify their yatai and the bearers.

Then, with a sudden throaty roar from the men, the yatai rises into the sky.

As it sways, the crowd ripples. This is a dangerous time. The yatai is not fully under control and spectators risk being flattened against house walls as the bearers struggle to find their footing.

At the sound of the loud, solemn drum beats, they break into a fiery chant and the yatai lurches forward on its journey through the streets to the nearby Matsubara Hachiman Shrine, where the six other village yatai will gather to receive their blessing from a Shinto priest before the next day’s main event.

That evening, a full moon rises over the rooftops of Nada and large white lanterns slung outside homes bob like fat glow worms on the evening breeze. Inside, weary yatai bearers try to catch some sleep between the endless cups of sake and dishes of homemade sushi doled out by their families to friends and relatives who stop by to celebrate.

As dawn breaks over Matsubara Hachiman Shrine the next day, the weather looks good. The shrine’s wide forecourt fills quickly as taiko drums announce the return of the yatai from the seven villages.

Excitement, like the temperature, rises steadily. Enthusiastic spectators shout ‘Gambare! [‘Do your best!’]’, and spray sake over their passing yatai bearers, whose sweating shoulders already show red welts from their burden. In Shinto tradition, female spectators are forbidden to touch the passing yatai. ‘Women are considered impure in the Shinto world.

They can sap a man of his power,’ says Matsumoto-san. Those carrying the yatai should not even sleep with their wives or girlfriends for two weeks before the festival, some stalwarts believe. Though one young man later confides: ‘This is an older generation thing. Young people are less concerned with religious superstitions these days.’

Bearers from opposing villages now begin to size each other up. With so much testosterone and adrenaline, not to mention sake, coursing through their veins, inter-village rivalries can boil over into fights. ‘Drunkenness and squabbles have been on the rise in recent years,’ Uno-san laments. ‘It does not present a good image of the festival.’ Brawling, he says, is unsportsmanlike and energies should be saved for the yatai clash. hat moment arrives as the sun slips below the inland sea and the fog of cigarette smoke is momentarily cleared by a sea breeze. Sake has been passing between friends and strangers for hours and the crowd is restless. One by one, the seven yatai descend Otabiyama illuminated like cruise ships.

The spectators go wild. The objective is not to destroy other villages’ yatai, but, strangely, to join it in synchronized movements that demand a high degree of control and co-operation. The sight of three enormous yatai, shouldered by a combined number of 220 men and rotating in unison to the beat of taiko drums, delights the crowd.

Suddenly, a yatai teeters and rolls over.The crowd gasps, craning their necks to see if anyone has been hurt. Amid a babble of shouts, the yatai is set upright and from underneath four men scramble out. One, bruised but conscious, is carted off. Broken bones and bruises are common during the festival; deaths are rare.

Matsumoto-san has never lost sleep over such possibilities in all his 56 years. The best place to enjoy the Nada fighting festival, he assures me, is right in the thick of it, with all his pals from the village.

Battle stations
Matsubara Hachiman shrine and Otabiyama are close to Shirahamano-miya station. Take the Sanyo line from Himeji (10 minutes). From Osaka, regular shinkai-soku (express) trains depart Umeda station. The journey takes one hour to Himeji and costs ¥2,900, return ($24).

When and where
On 14 October there is a Shinto blessing of village yatai at Matsubara Hachiman Shrine (in the morning). On 15 October the main events take place (morning and afternoon).

Festival food
Popular snacks such as okonomiyaki (Japanese pancake), takoyaki (octopus dumplings) and yakisoba (fried noodles) are available from street stalls. Beer, sake, and soft drinks are also on sale.

Watch out for…
The Otabiyama terraces are strictly reserved so wait for an invitation to join a party before settling down for a picnic. Be wary of your environment – crowds and yatai move quickly and erratically. Pickpockets also work the crowds.

Where to stay
Hotel Nikko Himeji, Tel: (+81) 79 222 2231. www.nikkohotels.com

More information
Himeji Kanko Navi Port (Tourist Information Centre), 68 Honmachi, Himeji, 670-0012.Tel: (+81) 79 287 3658. www.himeji-kanko.jp/english

Useful links
More on festivals online at www.japan-guide.com
For details of flights go to www.anaskyweb.com

Where to stay

Hotel Okura Kobe
2-1 Hatoba-cho, Chuo-ku, Kobe-shi Hyogo 650-8560
Tel: (+81) 783 330 111
www.kobe.okura.com

Kobe Portpia Hotel
10-1 6-chome, Minatojima-Nakmachi, Chuo-ku, Kobe-shi Hyogo 650-0046
Tel: (+81) 783 021 111
www.portopia.co.jp

Kobe Bay Sheraton Hotel & Towers
2-13 Koyocho-Naka, Higashi-Nada-ku, Kobe-shi Hyogo 658-0032
Tel: (+81) 788 577 000
www.starwoodhotels.com

Crowne Plaza Kobe
Kitano-cho, Chuo-ku, Kobe-shi Hyogo 650-0002
Tel: (+81) 782 911 121
www.cpkobe.com