What do you think?
Rate this book
Rediscovering the Old Tokaido: In the Footsteps of Hiroshige
Here is a very readable account of the author's personal quest to prove that the famous old highway 'The Old Tokaido, ' linking up the two ancient capitals of Kyoto and Tokyo (Edo as it was called) for more than 250 years, still exists today and is actually not buried under concrete, which is what most Japanese believe.
The author recounts how he followed in the footsteps of the 19th century woodblock artist, Hiroshige, describing how he found so many of the scenes depicted in the 55 famous prints by the artist, and how the same location looks today.
- GenresJapan
176 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 2000
About the author
Patrick Carey
205 books3 followersPatrick Carey received his M.S. in Biostatistics from the University of Wisconsin, where he worked as a researcher designing and analysing clinical studies. He co-authored his first textbook on using Excel as a statistical tool. Patrick has authored or co-authored over 20 academic and trade texts for the software industry.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews
June 30, 2026
tldr: Go on a tour with Patrick Carey without ever leaving your armchair. A good read for sure, though the story is not really about tracing Hiroshige as the title suggests.
This book probably falls into the category of adventure or travel journaling, as it follows author Patrick Carey’s travels along the Old Tokaido Road, an ancient 300-mile footpath connecting Tokyo to Kyoto with fifty-three post stations, i.e. towns, in between. The Tokaido Road was made popular in no small part by Hiroshige, the famous Tokugawa-period woodblock-print artist whose breakthrough work was the series The Fifty-three Stations of the Tokaido. Carey sets out to walk the ancient Tokaido Road—or at least whatever remains of it. His guide is a pocket-sized collection of Hiroshige’s Tokaido prints. With these prints, his goal is to find the real-life locations that Hiroshige must have visited and depicted.
It’s quite a charming book, especially to the modern reader. This journey took place in the year 2000; in other words, before the popularization of GPS and modern navigation tools. It’s charming to watch Carey fumble his way through the Tokaido, asking locals for directions at every turn. He also gets his weather reports and his news exclusively from television. To me, it feels like a blast from the past.
What I enjoyed
The storytelling
Carey is undoubtedly knowledgeable about the subject. At every landmark, he provides a short history or cultural lesson, sometimes explaining practical customs of the past and other times recounting legends and folklore. It gives the reader a good sense of the Tokaido’s place in Japanese history and culture.
What I enjoyed most about this book is the way Carey interacts with the people he meets along his journey. His descriptions of everyday Japanese life—the people, their habits, and their culture—feel grounded and genuine. He is not shy at all, finding every opportunity to connect with locals, whether they are schoolboys or elderly gentlemen. Rather than conducting formal interviews, he simply gives these people a voice and a place in his story. I especially enjoyed the running gag of "This is a pen!"
What didn't work for me
The formatting
The book is kind enough to reproduce each of Hiroshige’s prints... but unfortunately it doesn't do so in an intuitive way. All of the illustrations are front-loaded into the first sixty pages. This means that every time Carey references a print, the reader has to flip back and forth between the illustrations and the text. It quickly becomes tedious, and I eventually stopped checking the prints because it interrupted the flow of the story. Not Carey’s fault, but it still dampened the reading experience.
The shifting premise
The second issue is also not really Carey’s fault, but it is worth mentioning. Carey begins with the goal of locating the real-life sites depicted in Hiroshige’s prints. Very early on, however, he discovers that many of these places have lost their Tokugawa-period character. Dirt roads have been paved over, the iconic pine trees have disappeared, coastlines have been reclaimed through landfill, and hills have been flattened for development.
As a result, the book gradually shifts from "finding Hiroshige’s Tokaido" to simply "travelling the Tokaido and enjoying the journey." Carey succeeds wonderfully at the latter, as I mentioned above, but it is not quite the book that the title initially promises.
The pacing
Finally, I felt that the last portion of the journey was rather rushed. Carey breezes through roughly the final quarter of the route without giving the places much attention. Some chapters last only a few pages, with the main event amounting to something like, "I met these people, we exchanged a few words, and then I continued on my way."
Final remarks
Even though I never left my armchair, I thoroughly enjoyed travelling the Tokaido alongside Carey. It felt like an authentic introduction to Japan, its history, its culture, and its people. I originally picked up this book because I am a fan of Hiroshige, only to discover that it ultimately couldn't be a journey about Hiroshige because Japan itself has changed so much. That's a little disappointing, but I certainly don't regret reading it.
This book probably falls into the category of adventure or travel journaling, as it follows author Patrick Carey’s travels along the Old Tokaido Road, an ancient 300-mile footpath connecting Tokyo to Kyoto with fifty-three post stations, i.e. towns, in between. The Tokaido Road was made popular in no small part by Hiroshige, the famous Tokugawa-period woodblock-print artist whose breakthrough work was the series The Fifty-three Stations of the Tokaido. Carey sets out to walk the ancient Tokaido Road—or at least whatever remains of it. His guide is a pocket-sized collection of Hiroshige’s Tokaido prints. With these prints, his goal is to find the real-life locations that Hiroshige must have visited and depicted.
It’s quite a charming book, especially to the modern reader. This journey took place in the year 2000; in other words, before the popularization of GPS and modern navigation tools. It’s charming to watch Carey fumble his way through the Tokaido, asking locals for directions at every turn. He also gets his weather reports and his news exclusively from television. To me, it feels like a blast from the past.
What I enjoyed
The storytelling
Carey is undoubtedly knowledgeable about the subject. At every landmark, he provides a short history or cultural lesson, sometimes explaining practical customs of the past and other times recounting legends and folklore. It gives the reader a good sense of the Tokaido’s place in Japanese history and culture.
What I enjoyed most about this book is the way Carey interacts with the people he meets along his journey. His descriptions of everyday Japanese life—the people, their habits, and their culture—feel grounded and genuine. He is not shy at all, finding every opportunity to connect with locals, whether they are schoolboys or elderly gentlemen. Rather than conducting formal interviews, he simply gives these people a voice and a place in his story. I especially enjoyed the running gag of "This is a pen!"
What didn't work for me
The formatting
The book is kind enough to reproduce each of Hiroshige’s prints... but unfortunately it doesn't do so in an intuitive way. All of the illustrations are front-loaded into the first sixty pages. This means that every time Carey references a print, the reader has to flip back and forth between the illustrations and the text. It quickly becomes tedious, and I eventually stopped checking the prints because it interrupted the flow of the story. Not Carey’s fault, but it still dampened the reading experience.
The shifting premise
The second issue is also not really Carey’s fault, but it is worth mentioning. Carey begins with the goal of locating the real-life sites depicted in Hiroshige’s prints. Very early on, however, he discovers that many of these places have lost their Tokugawa-period character. Dirt roads have been paved over, the iconic pine trees have disappeared, coastlines have been reclaimed through landfill, and hills have been flattened for development.
As a result, the book gradually shifts from "finding Hiroshige’s Tokaido" to simply "travelling the Tokaido and enjoying the journey." Carey succeeds wonderfully at the latter, as I mentioned above, but it is not quite the book that the title initially promises.
The pacing
Finally, I felt that the last portion of the journey was rather rushed. Carey breezes through roughly the final quarter of the route without giving the places much attention. Some chapters last only a few pages, with the main event amounting to something like, "I met these people, we exchanged a few words, and then I continued on my way."
Final remarks
Even though I never left my armchair, I thoroughly enjoyed travelling the Tokaido alongside Carey. It felt like an authentic introduction to Japan, its history, its culture, and its people. I originally picked up this book because I am a fan of Hiroshige, only to discover that it ultimately couldn't be a journey about Hiroshige because Japan itself has changed so much. That's a little disappointing, but I certainly don't regret reading it.
January 15, 2026
A very interesting and enjoyable book. The author sets out to find how much of the old Tokaido road still exists, taking the opportunity to compare Hiroshige’s views of 300 years ago with those of today. An introductory chapter explains the historical background, so that while the narrative contains much information, it flows along nicely, and the journey comes vividly to life. Even if you are not particularly interested in the route itself, you will learn a lot about Japan‘s history and Japan off the beaten track: the author has a clear-eyed view of the places he visits, and the style is clear and unfussy, peppered with rueful humour. Interesting questions are raised about the role of conservation. The book is very well produced, with a lot of extras, including colour reproductions of Hiroshige’s 53 views. It is also an interesting reminder of what travel was like in the days before google maps. smartphones and digital cameras.
Want to Read
March 1, 2012Featuring considerably less historical detail and analysis than I was expecting, this is a straight-up travelogue by a Brit who worries about blisters after two hours, but it's none the worse for it. Carey is a fun, goofy kind of guy to follow around, and he does drop the occasional historical nugget (e.g. there is a mountain in Japan called Fudesute, which means "thrown brushes", alluding to an incident in which the artist Kano Motonobu threw aside his brushes when he could not capture the beauty of the mountain).
The book suffers from what seems like a miserly publisher's foible: the Hiroshige prints and few accompanying modern photos are all on sequential pages, which quickly get out of sync with the text, forcing the reader to either flip back and forth or just ignore the contextual imagery. The prints are exquisite, and since Carey is trying to revisit the site of each one, he is constantly referring to them. No fault of the author, I'm sure, but frustrating all the same.
It's amazing how friendly the Japanese seem to be. As a Westerner who can speak Japanese I guess Carey is kind of a novelty, but it seemed amazing that people were constantly inviting him into their homes and offering him gifts. I doubt a Japanese professor wandering the American countryside would receive the same reception.
The book suffers from what seems like a miserly publisher's foible: the Hiroshige prints and few accompanying modern photos are all on sequential pages, which quickly get out of sync with the text, forcing the reader to either flip back and forth or just ignore the contextual imagery. The prints are exquisite, and since Carey is trying to revisit the site of each one, he is constantly referring to them. No fault of the author, I'm sure, but frustrating all the same.
It's amazing how friendly the Japanese seem to be. As a Westerner who can speak Japanese I guess Carey is kind of a novelty, but it seemed amazing that people were constantly inviting him into their homes and offering him gifts. I doubt a Japanese professor wandering the American countryside would receive the same reception.
Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews