In 1859, three Japanese ports opened to foreign trade after two centuries of isolation: Yokohama, Nagasaki and Hakodate. The small Hokkaidō city, clinging to an isthmus between two seas, then saw consuls, merchants and missionaries from around the world arrive and settle facing the strait. It has kept a face unique in Japan, where Orthodox churches, red brick warehouses and cobbled slopes form a period setting at the foot of a mountain that has become one of the country's most popular lookouts.

From the pier to the morning market

Ships dock at piers close to the station, sometimes a little farther away depending on their size. Good news for early risers: the Hakodate Morning Market is held steps from the station, and its aisles come alive at dawn. Sea urchins, crabs, scallops and squid, the city's emblems, are sold fresh out of the water, amid the calls of vendors laughingly hailing passers-by. In the neighbouring hall nicknamed donburi alley, some twenty counters serve this bowl of rice topped with raw seafood, the local breakfast par excellence. Some stalls even let you catch your own squid in a tank.

Motomachi, the consuls' quarter

At the foot of Mount Hakodate, the slopes of Motomachi climb in wide cobbles between the witnesses of the country's opening: the Russian Orthodox church and its small spires, the first in Japan, founded in 1860; the former British consulate and its tea room; and the Old Public Hall, an elegant blue-grey colonnaded building that hosted the official receptions of the Meiji era. Every sloping street frames the sea at the end of its perspective; Hachiman-zaka, the most photographed, lines up its street lamps down to the harbour basins in a shot worthy of a film. Heading back down toward the port, the Kanemori red brick warehouses, built for maritime trade, now house shops and cafés facing the basins.

The star of Goryōkaku

A few kilometres to the north, Goryōkaku Fortress spreads its five-pointed star plan, unique in Japan, inspired by European citadels. Completed in 1864 to defend the new port, it served as the last stronghold of the shogun's loyalists during the civil war of 1869: the short-lived republic they proclaimed there died out in the spring, along with old feudal Japan. The site is now a park; the neighbouring observation tower reveals the perfect geometry of the moats, spectacular under the cherry blossoms of May as under the snow. In town, some ice cream shops even dare to offer squid ice cream, proof that the region embraces its emblem with humour.

Practical pointers

The mountain of three million lights

Mount Hakodate closes off the isthmus like a prow. Its ropeway lifts travellers to 334 metres in barely three minutes; from the summit, the city appears squeezed between its two bays, a glittering ribbon of land set in water on both sides. Japanese people consider this panorama, especially after nightfall, one of the most beautiful in the country. If your call ends in the evening, go up before reboarding: the view is worth more than any shop souvenir.

Hakodate was a gateway between Japan and the world; it has remained one, with the slightly cool kindness of northern cities. Seafood in the morning, cobblestones in the afternoon, lights in the evening: the day falls into place on its own, and it ranks among the most well-rounded that Japan offers cruise passengers.