You’re walking down a street in Osaka. You’re probably looking for takoyaki or trying not to get mowed down by a bicycle, but then you look down. Right there, under your sneakers, is a vivid, multi-colored casting of Osaka Castle surrounded by cherry blossoms. It’s not a mural. It’s a manhole cover.
Most people think of these things as heavy, rusted circles of iron that ruin your car’s alignment. That’s a mistake. Manhole covers from around the world are basically the DNA of a city, stamped into metal. They tell you who lived there, what they valued, and how much the local government cares about aesthetics versus pure utility. Honestly, once you start noticing them, you can’t stop. It’s a rabbit hole. Or a manhole.
The Japanese obsession with "Drain Art"
Japan is the undisputed heavyweight champion of this niche. It isn’t even close. Back in the 1980s, a high-ranking official in the construction ministry—a guy named Yasutake Kameda—had this wild idea. To make expensive, taxpayer-funded sewerage projects more palatable to the public, he suggested letting municipalities design their own covers.
It worked.
Today, there are over 6,000 different designs across Japan. You've got everything from Hello Kitty in Sanrio Puroland to intricate depictions of the 19th-century "Great Wave off Kanagawa." In places like Shizuoka, you’ll find covers featuring Chibi Maruko-chan, a beloved anime character. These aren't just gray iron. Many are hand-painted with durable colored resins.
There’s actually a whole subculture of "manholers" (manhoru-kun) who travel the country just to photograph them. They even have "Manhole Trading Cards" issued by the GKP (Geshuidou Kouhou Platform), a group dedicated to sewage PR. Each card has the GPS coordinates of the specific cover. It’s basically Pokémon Go but for infrastructure.
Why are they usually round, anyway?
Let’s talk physics for a second. If you’ve ever wondered why manhole covers from around the world are predominantly circular, it’s not just a style choice. It’s safety.
A square cover can fall through its own hole if you tip it diagonally. A circle can't. No matter how you twist it, the diameter is constant, so it stays put. This matters when you have a 300-pound disk of cast iron hanging over a 20-foot drop where someone is working.
💡 You might also like: Tiempo en East Hampton NY: What the Forecast Won't Tell You About Your Trip
But, because humans love to be different, Nashua, New Hampshire, uses triangles. They point in the direction of the flow of the sewer. It’s clever, sure, but it’s a nightmare for the guys lifting them because they have to align the points perfectly to close them. Berlin goes another way with massive, heavy rectangles that require specialized cranes or two very strong humans with crowbars.
European Elegance: Berlin vs. London
Europe takes a more "old world" approach. In London, you’ll see covers marked with "LCC" (London County Council), some dating back to the Victorian era. They are rugged. Utilitarian. They look like they could survive a blitz, which many of them did. You’ll often see the "Coal Hole" covers—smaller circles on the sidewalks that allowed Victorian delivery men to dump coal directly into a basement. These are often ornate, featuring "waffle" patterns or the names of long-defunct iron foundries like Hayward Brothers of Borough.
Berlin is different.
The city is basically an open-air museum for ironwork. Many Berlin covers feature the city’s landmark buildings—the Brandenburg Gate, the Victory Column, and the Fernsehturm (the TV Tower). It’s a way of saying, "You are here," even when you're looking at your feet. Interestingly, during the Cold War, the covers in East Berlin and West Berlin were manufactured in different foundries, leading to subtle design variations that persistent nerds still track today.
The weirdly competitive world of American municipal branding
In the U.S., manhole covers are usually boring. "SEWER" or "WATER" in block letters. Boring.
However, some cities decided to flex. Seattle has a famous series of covers that feature a map of the city’s streets. If you’re lost, you can literally look at the ground to find your bearings, though I wouldn't recommend it in traffic.
Then there’s Salt Lake City. They have covers that depict the historical Pony Express route. It’s a nod to the fact that the city was a vital stop on the way West.
📖 Related: Finding Your Way: What the Lake Placid Town Map Doesn’t Tell You
New York City is a different beast entirely. Most NYC covers are Made in India. If you look closely at a standard NYC cover, you might see "IND" or "MADE IN INDIA" stamped on the rim. This sparked a minor controversy years ago about why the "Empire City" wasn't sourcing its iron locally, but it comes down to cost. Casting iron is a dirty, energy-intensive process, and many American foundries simply closed up shop. The ones that remain, like Neenah Foundry in Wisconsin, are the gold standard, producing covers that have to withstand the literal weight of the world.
The technology of the lid
We don’t think about the tech inside a manhole cover, but it’s there. Modern manhole covers from around the world are starting to go high-tech.
In some "Smart Cities," covers are equipped with sensors that detect gas leaks, rising water levels (to prevent flooding), or even unauthorized entry. If a "lid" is moved, it sends an alert to a central hub. This is huge for security in places like Washington D.C. or London during high-profile events.
Material science is changing things too. Cast iron is great because it’s heavy—it won’t pop out of place when a truck rolls over it—but it’s also a target for thieves. During commodity price spikes, manhole cover theft becomes a massive problem in places like Chicago or Johannesburg. People steal them for scrap metal. The solution? Composite covers. They’re made of reinforced plastic or fiberglass. They have no scrap value, they’re lighter to lift, and they don't interfere with radio signals for those "smart" sensors.
Cultural footprints in the iron
If you go to Budapest, the covers often feature the city’s coat of arms. It’s formal. Regal.
Contrast that with a place like Tirana, Albania, where the covers might be a mix of old Yugoslavian designs and newer, post-communist stamps. These objects are permanent. A regime can fall, the flag can change, the currency can vanish, but the iron lids on the street usually stay. They are often the last physical evidence of a defunct government.
In India, manhole covers are often a safety hazard. Many are missing or broken, leading to tragic accidents during monsoon season. This has led to a grassroots movement of "manhole painters" who use bright neon colors to highlight open holes so people don't fall in. It’s art born of necessity.
👉 See also: Why Presidio La Bahia Goliad Is The Most Intense History Trip In Texas
How to start "Manhole Hunting"
You don’t need a permit or a degree. You just need to stop looking at your phone while you walk.
- Check the rims. Often, the most interesting info—the foundry name or the year of casting—is on the outer ring, not the center.
- Look for logos. Many utility companies (ConEd in NY, EDF in Paris) have beautiful, stylized logos that look like something out of a 1920s design book.
- Visit Japan. Seriously. If you’re into this, it’s the pilgrimage site. Go to the city of Nara to see covers with deer on them, or Shizuoka for Mount Fuji designs.
- Mind the traffic. I’ve almost been clipped by a bus in London because I was trying to get a top-down shot of a 19th-century lid. Don't be that guy.
The "Maccarone" factor: When covers become high art
Believe it or not, people actually make rubbings of these things. Much like gravestone rubbing, you lay a piece of paper over the iron and use charcoal to pull the design.
Some artists, like the German collective Raubdruckerin, use manhole covers as "printing presses." They roll ink directly onto the street cover and then press a T-shirt or a tote bag onto it. The result is a unique piece of "street wear" that literally comes from the street. It’s a brilliant way to take a piece of a city’s soul home with you without having to lug 200 pounds of iron through airport security.
Taking it further: Your next street walk
Next time you’re outside, do me a favor. Look down.
Check if the cover is notched. That’s for a "manhole key"—a big T-shaped bar used to yank the thing up. Notice the pattern. Those bumps and ridges aren't just for decoration; they provide traction so pedestrians and cyclists don't slip when it rains.
If you want to dive deeper into the world of urban infrastructure, start by checking out the Manhole Cover Museum (it’s a real thing in some cities, or at least a section of local history museums). Or better yet, look up the hashtag #manholecover on Instagram. You’ll find a global community of people who realized a long time ago that the most interesting part of a city is often right under their feet.
Actionable Next Steps:
- Research your local foundry: Look at the names stamped on the covers in your own neighborhood. A quick Google search of that name will tell you if that factory is still standing or if it's been turned into luxury lofts.
- Start a digital collection: Use an app like Google Lens to identify symbols or coats of arms on covers when you travel. It adds a whole new layer to sightseeing.
- Check for "Smart" covers: If you see a small, plastic-looking disc embedded in a metal cover, you've found an IoT sensor. It's a sign your city is modernizing its "underworld."
The world is wide, but it’s also deep. The history of our civilization isn't just in the skyscrapers; it's in the heavy metal circles keeping the lights on and the water flowing.