The summers have never been particularly comfortable in this part of the world, and today is no different. An unyielding, dry wind is blowing in from the north-east. People are thirsty, and eyes are tired. This is what hindered the troops centuries ago as they marched across the land to reach their battle ground. People were very different 500 years ago than they are today because, if any of us were called upon to march hundreds of kilometers while wearing heavy battle armor and carrying weapons of some destruction, we'd wither away and die.
The more I pay attention to the little things in Japan, the more respect I have for the people who lived and died long before any of us were born. This sort of wind is not an easy thing to ignore, particularly when walking along the concrete jungles that we call cities. Nagoya, like most densely populated areas in Japan, consists of layer upon layer of concrete with buildings billowing hot air from over-powered air conditioners into the atmosphere. With the large number of subways and underground passages that crisscross the city, the heat from these enclosed places are also vented on the surface. So a normal summers day when the temperature would be a stifling 38 degrees centigrade with 80% humidity feels more like 50 degrees with 80% humidity.
There is no relief, save for the artificial structures we ensconce ourselves in. I can see why Nobunaga chose to have his castle built on top of a mountain. Not only is this a strategically smart thing to do, it's much cooler a few hundred meters above the valley floor.