Hiroshima in the rain

My first visit to this infamous city occurred on 8 April, my second full day in Japan. I’d originally planned this excursion for later in the week. However, the forecast wasn’t ideal for a planned excursion to Hakone, so I made a last-minute decision to swap dates and head south. It seemed appropriate to experience a more poignant location like Hiroshima in the wet. I also knew I’d spend time indoors at the Peace Museum, plus another 1.5 hours each way on the Shinkansen.

I duly arrived in Hiroshima mid-morning and caught the local tram towards the Peace Memorial Park. I took heed of a recommendation in my Lonely Planet guide and disembarked at Kamiyacho-nishi. I then walked a block down a narrow, quiet side lane to view the Hiroshima Atomic Bomb Hypocenter Monument. This modest pink marble plinth marks the exact spot where, approximately 600 metres above, the world’s first atomic weapon exploded in anger.

I’ve visited this monument three times. On each occasion I’m awe-struck by the simple thought that had I stood here in this modest laneway, on the morning of 6 August 1945, it would have resulted in instant annihilation. It’s unfathomable and brings into stark focus the inane brutality of war.

My next stop was the iconic Atomic Bomb Dome. These are the carefully preserved remains of the Industrial Promotion Hall which stood 100 metres west of the bomb’s epicenter. Outside the skeletal complex colourful bunches of origami cranes lay on marble platforms. They're part of a memorial to the children killed in the atomic blast. Every year school children come from around the country to present the paper creations they've carefully crafted during history lessons.

The paper crane is a symbol of hope and peace in Japan thanks to the heartbreaking story of a little Japanese girl called Sadako Sasaki. She was exposed to radiation as an infant when the atomic bomb was dropped on Hiroshima. Although she survived the bomb, she was diagnosed with leukaemia at the age of 12. Sadako came to believe that if she folded 1,000 cranes, she’d be cured. Sadly, she never reached her goal and passed away later that year.

I spent several hours exploring the Peace Memorial Park and taking stock of exhibits and artefacts at the Peace Museum. The museum, located on the park’s southern boundary, tells the story of the atomic bombing and its aftermath. It’s a truly sobering experience. You can learn more about the park and its museum in posts I've previously published here and here.

From Hiroshima, I caught the local tram south towards Miyajima. There are few sights more iconic in Japan than the vermillion Tori gate that stands offshore of the Itsukushima Shinto shrine. Miyajima is one of Japan’s most sacred places. Its name literally translates as "shrine island". Its history is intimately tied to the nation’s two dominant religions; Shintoism and Buddhism.

The island is considered so sacred that for much of its history commoners weren’t allowed to set foot on it to maintain its purity. As a result, the Itsukushima shrine is built over the water and connected to the island by three single-arch vermillion bridges. Its dramatic entrance gate was also installed offshore to ensure visitors could only come by boat and thus never touch the island. Retaining the purity of the shrine is so important that since 1878, no deaths or births have been permitted near it.

Unfortunately, my visit coincided with low tide. As a result, I never saw the Tori Gate “floating” in the sea. However, this did allow me to walk out across the mud flaps and view the gate up close, something you’re unable to do when the tide is in. I have been fortunate to see the gate immersed on subsequent visits.

I finished my southern day trip with a bus ride to Iwakuni to see the Kintai Bridge. Catching the bus was an experience in itself.  I amused the driver with my clumsy efforts to pay the correct fare, communicate in pidgin Japanese and disembark at the correct stop. I then repeated a similar pantomime for the toll booth attendant staffing the entrance to the bridge.

This iconic five-arch wooden bridge spans the Nishiki River. Historically it acted as a gateway to a feudal palace and Samurai castle on the hill overlooking the river. Unfortunately, during my visit low clouds shrouded the surrounding hills and thus I never saw the castle. However, I finally saw it up close during a visit with Mum more than 15 years later - and the weather was decidedly better!