It was early morning in Kanazawa’shistorical Higashi Chaya district, a row of old latticed teahouses in a townthat’s convoluted in both its layout and history. Steam wafted up from thestone road. A geisha scurried across the empty street like an alley cat, onlythe clicking of her wooden geta sandals giving her away. Yet I didn’t come herelooking for geisha. I wanted to learn about the world of another Japanese icon:the samurai.

Located between the Sea of Japan and theJapanese Alps in western Japan, Kanazawa is considered one of the country’sbest places to learn about samurai history. The town was spared fromdestruction during World War II and remains one of the best-preserved castletowns of the Edo Period. It’s one of the only cities in Japan to still have a samurai district.Of course, samurai were abolished in the late-19th Century as Japan modernised,so you can’t find samurai here today. But much of their world remains.

Making the 473km trip from Tokyo toKanazawa used to take five hours and require changing trains. But the trip justgot much easier. Starting March 14, 2015, the new, direct Hokuriku Shinkansen(bullet train) run by West Japan Railway Company cut the travel time in half.And like the slower trains, it arrives at Kanazawa Station, often listed as oneof the world’s most beautiful.

I’d always been fascinated by samurai,those warriors who were almost inhumanly stoic and ever willing to fall ontheir sword for their masters or slay anyone showing disrespect. At least, thatwas how I’d imagined samurai to be, thanks to films like The Last Samurai and13 Assassins. I was about to learn there was more to their story.

On my first morning in Kanazawa, I made abeeline for the neighbourhood of Higashi Chaya and met Kiyoe Nagashima, a6th-generation resident and Kanazawa Excursions guide. The pounding of a taikodrum in a nearby temple filled the air, summoning the feeling I often have whenin a foreign place: of following the city’s beating pulse.

“Kanazawa is not a place for theme parks, but a place for living,”she said, her face beaming with pride. In fact, for the most part, the city isa modern metropolis dotted with luxury shops such as Louis Vuitton. HigashiChaya, however, is anything but modern.

Following Nagashima into the labyrinth ofteahouses, temples and restored samurai houses, I felt like Alice slipping intothe rabbit hole. We walked along the row of beautiful latticed buildings andturned down a narrow street lined with yellowing gingko trees. Then we careenedup a steep path that was so slender and discreet, I thought we were trespassingin a private driveway. When we arrived at the top, however, the path branchedout into more narrow, winding roads. Kanazawa’s streets were partly designed tomislead and disorient outsiders, and I was learning firsthand, they do soeffectively.

From the top of the hill, we walked intothe adjacent neighborhood of Utatsuyama. Samurai once lived in Buddhist templeshere, Nagashima explained, working as security guards called boukan. The roofsof the stately wood buildings with detailed carvings sprouted from clusters ofgingko and maple trees.

Nagashima made it clear that the samuraiwho flourished in this city during the Edo Period (1603-1868) were almostnothing like the ferocious warriors I’d imagined them to be. During thispeaceful golden age, the feudal military class focused most of its energy onscholarly pursuits and craftsmanship. As the highest social caste during thistime, the samurai built extravagant residences and opulent gardens behindthick, earthen walls; you can still see evidence of the walls today. Of course,most samurai in Japan never lived this luxurious, peaceful lifestyle. Therefined samurai of Kanazawa were an anomaly, made possible by their ruler’sdisinterest in violence and affection for the arts.

Kanazawa’s largest architectural relic ofthe samurai age is the stunning white Kanazawa Castle, resting on a hill thatoffers 360-degree views of the city. The castle was built in the 16th Centuryby the Maeda family, the beloved rulers of Kanazawa until 1868. During theMaeda’s rule, the castle was their fortress, surrounded by a moat and stonewall that still stands today. The castle's striking white tile roof is made ofweathered lead. Adjoining the castle, the Kenroku-en garden is home to plum,cherry, and Japanese maple trees and is considered one of Japan’s finestgardens.

We continued on to the Nagamachineighborhood, which was once home to upper- and middle-class samurai. Many ofthe original houses were torn down during Japan’s industrial revolution. Still,the district’s cobblestone streets, towering mud walls and peaceful canalremain, and a couple of restored samurai houses are open to the public,including the Nomura House, which contains artifacts from its namesake family.

I returned to the Nomura House thefollowing day and strolled inside, expecting to find swords, armor and perhapssome paintings immortalising moments of triumphant battles. Instead, I wasgreeted by a koi pond and zen fusuma – or painted rice paper panels –created bythe Maeda family’s personal artist.

Then I recalled something Nagashima hadsaid on the tour: “To defend Kanazawa, the Maeda clan encouraged the samuraisto focus on arts and craftsmanship instead of fighting. That way they did notpose a threat to the clan with the highest power, and so were not invaded. As aresult, there was actually almost no fighting in Kanazawa for 400 years.”

Maybe that was the real lesson of Kanazawa’s samurai.Their greatest weapon was not the sword but their focus on the arts –a slydefense tactic in disguise.