Picture a mountainous coastline, cut by plentiful inlets and straits, treacherous to ships whose captains don’t know the bays, but which also hides a safe port of call for those who do. A sheltered, natural port, hugged by soft hills on all sides, overflowing with sun and warm air. Picture Portuguese sailors developing this serendipitous waterway into a bustling trading haven, engaged in profitable trade, probably lots of drinking, and definitely lots of Christianity. And thus, picture pointy church towers topped by crosses holding bells that ring out each and every hour. Picture Dutch merchants competing on the markets, near Holland Street, and a British entrepreneur bringing bottled beer to the city, to be found on Glover Street, named in his honour. Picture Nagasaki.

It’s true, an unexpected influx of European trade brought wealth to the domain of the Omura Lords, who oversaw the quick growth of Nagasaki, starting about five centuries ago. Where before fishermen caught dinner for themselves and their families, unappetizing smells now flowed across the water from tattered sailing ships arriving from halfway across the globe, carrying clocks, guns, and Jesus.

The Jesuit Missionaries living under decks quickly got to work saving souls from a damnation they had conveniently brought with them as well. But as the converted population began to grow, the newly centralised government of Japan stepped in to stamp out any uncalled for foreign interference, and the Portuguese were swiftly cast back into the deep seas from whence they came.

In their stead followed the Dutch, a cut-and-dry, down-to-earth Protestant people. If God created you a pagan and intended to condemn you to damnation for eternity, well friend, that is between you and him. We’re just here to make money. And indeed, they did. For two centuries, the Dutch unloaded crates packed to the brim with first Latin and then Dutch studies, but also globes, opium, butter, brandy, and sugar. On their way back to Amsterdam, they stuffed the same boxes with silver, lacquerware, porcelain and camphor. Racking up steady profits along the way.

Obviously, the age of Dutch-Portuguese competition over trading rights is long over, but through years of their energetic presence, Nagasaki still feels markedly different from most Japanese cities. You can see it in the architecture, the street names, and hear it when the church bells toll. But more importantly, when the vendors offer you a slice of Castella cake, you can taste it as well. And if you know your Latin well, you will know that “tempora cuaresma” signifies the time of Lent, a time when the Portuguese traditionally replaced meat with fried seafood and vegetables. So, in case you’ve ever enjoyed a plate of steaming hot ‘Japanese’ tempura, you might have the pious missionaries of Portugal to thank.