Car Parks of Nagoya
Someone stole the blueprint of hell and, with it, they built Nagoya.
Angela Carter
The British writer Angela Carter was no fan of Nagoya. She detested its ‘festering urban blight,’ but she made no mention of the city’s dependence on cars (presumably because she was only passing through, on her way to a fertility festival outside of Nagoya). I am confident though that they would have certainly drawn her ire if she had lingered. The broad avenues attract racing maniacs with thundering engines. Many houses have a car (or even two) squeezed into a tiny front yard. This is a city that likes its cars, which, given that Toyota has its headquarters near by, should perhaps be no surprise.
And a city that likes its cars needs a place to park its cars. This being urban Japan, where space is at a premium, car parks tend to be diminutive. Walk around a Nagoya suburb and you will see pocket-sized public car parks with lots for fewer than ten cars, all within a stone’s throw of each other.
©Wendy Gan 2025
It feels as if the city is obsessed with parking. Any empty space, no matter how small, is turned into a car park. Google reviews for local eateries will mention without fail the availability of nearby parking. When a restaurant comes with its own car park, an extra star is awarded in gratitude!
I’m more of a walker than a driver myself, but there is something about these small car parks that I find rather amusing. It must be the scale. Massive car parks come across as alienating. Nagoya’s tiny car parks just seem toy-like. Who would have thought the Japanese adaptation to a car-centric culture would create such an unusual by-product?
©Wendy Gan 2025
