While Kyoto’s cherry blossoms often dominate attention, the cherry-lined banks of Osaka’s Ōkawa River rival—and perhaps surpass—them in scale and urban design.
From Sakuranomiya to Osaka Castle Park, layered blossoms and meticulously restored waterways reveal a forgotten national treasure.

2016-04-05
The other night, while watching a TBS program featuring Beat Takeshi,
I saw live footage of the cherry blossoms along the Ōkawa River in Sakuranomiya, Osaka.
For the past several years I had been captivated solely by Kyoto’s cherry blossoms,
and I realized that I had completely forgotten the Ōkawa’s blossoms, whose scale alone justifies calling them the finest in Japan.
The following Sunday, I stepped off at Sakuranomiya Station, only two stops from JR Osaka Station, and was astonished.
From the station entrance, a magnificent avenue of cherry trees stretched out in full bloom.
The view from the bridge spanning the river between the station and the Imperial Hotel Osaka was nothing short of breathtaking.
Standing at the center of the bridge, one can see Osaka Castle, flanked left and right by solemn ranks of cherry blossoms.
I began walking along the left bank toward Tenmabashi and was struck by yet another surprise.
The waterfront had been exquisitely restored, forming a series of inlets.
From the bridge above, I could see sparrows bathing at the water’s edge.
Calling it a grand spectacle would not be an exaggeration.
It would also not be an exaggeration to say that the spirit of Hideyoshi, who built Osaka Castle, lives on here naturally and effortlessly.
Moreover, these inlets are not confined to a single spot.
Some resemble small beaches, where children were joyfully playing by the water.
Cherry trees line not only both sides of the Ōkawa but also encircle these inlets,
creating layers upon layers of blossoms and forming a truly magnificent landscape.
My close friend, who grew up in Osaka, murmured as we walked,
“Osaka is terrible at promoting itself.”
I thought he was right.
The Asahi Shimbun has scarcely written about the splendor of Osaka Castle Park,
now considered by foreign visitors to be an absolute must-see destination.
Instead, at one point it maneuvered political and business circles to halt the second phase of the Kita-Yard development—
a project built over more than twenty years by the collective wisdom of Osaka’s public and private sectors—
all while advancing its own interests.
Until August of the year before last,
such a childish yet extraordinarily malicious newspaper dominated Osaka just as it had dominated Japan’s political, economic, and academic worlds.
Given that reality, Osaka’s great decline was, in truth, inevitable.
To be continued.