Chūgoku Trip: Day 5 ４月２２日

Day 4

Rough Guide calls it "enchanting", but according to Lonely Planet, it's "gritty". I naturally found Onomichi 尾道 to be somewhere in between those two adjectives. The fifth day of my Japan trip began by checking out of the Miyako Ryokan 都旅館 at around nine in the morning to begin my exploration of this gritty, yet at times enchanting, seaport town:

Onomichi is noted for its temple walk, which starts from the train station and covers 25 temples in the course of a single day. Now I'm a great admirer of the beauty of Japanese Buddhist temples, but a quarter of a hundred is simply overkill - it wouldn't be long before your eyes started to glaze over, and every temple began looking the same. So I chose instead to focus on a handful of fine examples instead of doing the whole tour. 

I began by taking a bus from the station to Nagaeguchi 長江口, where a convenient gondola lift saved me the trouble of walking up a long series of stone steps to reach Senkōji-kōen Park 千光時公園, where the views looking down on the town below, across to the island of Mukai-shima 向島 and out toward the Inland Sea 瀬戸内海 compensated greatly for the lousy weather that I would have for most of the day:

After getting my fill of the view, I made the short descent to the park's namesake, Senkō-ji Temple 千光時, located just under the gondola lift station. In recognition of the spending power of Japan's sizable population of single, employed women who still live at home, the temple offered cute, heart-shaped votive plaques known as ema 絵馬 to be used in the beseeching of the gods. The temple also had a number of Jizō 地蔵菩薩 statues, which, knowing his role as the guardian deity of dead children, I've always found both hauntingly disturbing and sadly comforting, even more so now that I'm a father:

   

Continuing downhill from the temple, I came across one of those scenes that you only see in Japan, courtesy of the pagoda at Tennei-ji Temple 天寧時:

On through the narrow streets I rambled...:

...to my next temple of choice, Fukuzen-ji 福善時. I was impressed with both the carvings on the main gate and the spreading pine tree on its grounds:

The view looking back across to Senkō-ji wasn't bad, either:

Saikoku-ji 西国時 was up next. The largest temple complex in Onomichi is noted for the giant straw sandals that hang on the entrance gate:

The main hall of the temple, with a pagoda in the background...:

...and a cherry tree, with a pagoda in the background:

If you hadn't noticed by now, Onomichi is a pretty hilly place:

The last stop before lunch was Jōdo-ji 浄土時. Rough Guide claimed there was a Zen garden that could be seen behind the main hall, but the attendant selling charms and amulets didn't seem to know anything about that, and a sign in Japanese out front noted that the temple didn't have any "parks" 公園ではありません:

Following a much-needed lunch break of yakisoba 焼きそば and beer, I was back on the sightseeing trail again. In addition to all the temples, Onomichi also has a reputation as a literary town. There are the homes of famous writers than can be visited, such as The Old House of Naoya Shiga 志賀直哉旧居, where seeing as I was the only one there and that I could speak a smattering of passable Japanese, the attendant lifted up the bamboo bar and let me walk across the tatami 畳 mat floor to check out the view:

Onomichi also has a "literary path" 文学のこみち. The words of famous writers are inscribed on stone monuments along the path, but unless you are familiar with the scribes, and/or are good at reading cursive Japanese (which I'm not), you're basically just walking path stones with scribblings on them:

After a long, but enjoyable, morning and afternoon of walking up and down the stone steps of Onomichi, I descended to sea-level, passing through the same covered shopping arcade I wandered around the previous evening:

Collecting my bag from a coin locker outside Onomichi Station 尾道駅, I bought a ticket for the 4:30pm ferry for the 40-minute ride to my next stop, the Inland Sea island of Ikuchi-jima 生口島. I was picked up at the ferry port by one of the owners of my accommodation for the next two evenings, the Setoda Shimanami Guest House 瀬戸田しまなみゲストハウス, aka Hostel Setoda Tarumi Onsen. ¥4800 ($60) will get you two meals, access to an onsen 温泉 or hot-spring bath, and in my case, a spacious tatami-mat room overlooking a private strip of beach. The view from my room made me wish I had been able to travel here in the summer, as I had originally planned:

Following a short walk before dinner...:

...the evening meal was served, washed down with a bottle of Onomichi Beer that I had purchased from a supermarket before boarding the ferry:

A relaxing hot bath ensued, and then it was time for bed. It had been a busy but fun day, and I needed my rest for the bike ride I was planning for the next day.

Chūgoku Trip: Day 4 ４月２１日

Day 3

My last day in Hiroshima City 広島市 began with a 50-minute bus ride out of it, to the neighboring city of Iwakuni 岩国 in the neighboring prefecture of Yamaguchi 山口県. Iwakuni's main drawing card is a bridge, Kintai-kyō 錦帯橋. A five-arched wooden structure spanned a stretch of the Nishiki-gawa River 錦川 from 1674 to 1950, when it was destroyed in a typhoon. The current bridge is a 1953 reconstruction that is no less beautiful:

There's more to Iwakuni than just a bridge, however. On the other side of the river are some fine old samurai 侍 houses, such as the Nagaya-mon 長屋門, which looks much more impressive in person than the photo I took of it:

Other places to check out in Iwakuni included Kikkō-kōen Park 吉香公園, laid out on the estate on the former feudal rulers...:

...and the Mekata Family Residence 旧目加田家住宅, which couldn't be entered, but could be walked around outside for free:

Iwakuni is also noted for its white (albino) snakes, which are found nowhere else in Japan. For a mere ¥100 ($1.25), the White Snake Viewing Facility 白蛇観覧所 offered up several of these unique reptilian beauties for your serpentine pleasure:

Museums? Iwakuni has 'em too. The Chōko-kan 徴古館 is a free-of-charge local history museum with displays on Iwakuni's past, especially the area's role in the battles of the Meiji Restoration 明治維新:

Tres Japonais, non?

In addition to bridges, parks, samurai houses and history museums, Iwakuni also boasts a castle 岩国城, but in this case, the building is merely a 1960 reconstruction of the original, which was dismantled in 1608 when the Tokugawa shōgunate 江戸幕府 decreed that there should be only one castle in each province. Reconstructed modern castles are usually little more than glorified local history museums, and can often be safely skipped. Iwakuni's castle, however, is perched on a prime mountaintop location, which can be reached by a gondola lift. Real tourists like myself, though, will opt for the 30-minute uphill trek to reach the top (and, cheap bastards that we are, save a few yen in the process):

Though I didn't bother going into Iwakuni-jō, the views from the top made the effort to get there all the worthwhile:

Another view of Kintai-kyō from the slighter lower-in-elevation gondola station:

A busy morning of sightseeing, and the walk to and from the castle, had left me pretty hungry at this point. Iwakuni naturally had its noted cuisine, in this case Iwakuni-zushi 岩国寿司, blocks of vinegared rice topped with cooked fish and vegetables, and lunch certainly didn't disappoint:

Renkon れんこん, aka deep-fried lotus root is another local specialty, which I tried in the form of a croquette レンコンコロッケ:

 

The last thing I did sightseeing-wise in Iwakuni was to walk along the modern Kinjō-kyō Bridge 錦城橋 to get a different perspective on Kintai-kyō. Between June and August, the river around the bridge is used for cormorant fishing 鵜飼:

With almost an hour to wait until the next bus back to Hiroshima, I killed the time by drinking one of the local craft beers, a Pale Ale. What I love about liquor stores in tourist spots in Japan is that they often will let you drink your purchase right there on the premises:

Back in Hiroshima and on the way to retrieve my bag from the hotel. The city is full of signs showing what a particular spot looked like in the aftermath of the atomic bombing. In the picture below, the marker explains what happened to the original Fukuya Department Store 福屋本店 (the newer one can be seen across the street) - the original building withstood the blast (though the contents inside were knocked around), but the ensuing fires gutted the store's interior and killed most of the employees working there. In Hiroshima, history was never very far away:

Reluctantly, it was time to bid farewell to Hiroshima and take the train to my next destination, Onomichi 尾道. Upon exiting Onomichi Station 尾道駅, I naturally had to have a bowl of Onomichi Rāmen noodles 尾道ラーメン for dinner:

After checking in to my night's accommodation, the Miyako Ryokan 都旅館, I took a long walk through the city's long but deserted covered shopping arcade (either Onomichi was suffering the effects of Japan's stagnant economy, or there just isn't much to do on a Saturday night there), and the surprisingly large entertainment district:

 

Onomichi's landmark, the statue of famed local writer Hayashi Fumiko 林芙美子, may have looked better in the daylight, but I liked this shot for capturing the passing train in the background:

Chūgoku Trip: Day 3 ４月２０日

Days 1 and 2

Hiroshima 広島. It's a vibrant city with a population of 1.2 million people, but the name evokes a single disastrous morning in early August of 1945. Perhaps it was fitting that in a city so linked with tragedy that the day should start out gray and rainy. Leaving my hotel shortly after 8 on Friday morning, I walked along the modern streets and through the Hondōri 本通り covered shopping arcade (just stirring to life as I was passing through). And then I saw it - the symbol of the threat of nuclear holocaust, as well as a UNESCO World Heritage Site. The former Industrial Promotion Hall, now better known as the A-bomb Dome 原爆ドーム:

The building's shell somehow managed to remain standing despite being close to the hypocenter of the atomic bomb blast. It now serves as a silent witness to what happened on August 6, 1945 and though this was the second time for me to see the structure, it hadn't lost its emotional impact. 

The A-bomb Dome sits across the Motoyasu-gawa River 元安川 from the Peace Memorial Park 平和記念公園. There's the Children's Peace Monument, dedicated to Sasaki Sadako 佐々木貞子, who died from leukemia at the age of 12 after being exposed to radiation in the bombing:

The Flame of Peace will be extinguished once the last nuclear weapon has been destroyed. Behind it is the Memorial Cenotaph and the Peace Memorial Museum:

The Memorial Cenotaph was designed by Kenzō Tange 丹下健三. Below the arch is a coffin-like box containing the names of all the A-bomb victims. The arch is aligned with the museum, the flame and the A-bomb Dome. This is the place where the annual memorial service is held every August 6:

One other interesting spot in the park is the Monument in Memory of the Korean Victims of the Bomb. About 10% of all the A-bomb victims were Koreans, many of them forced laborers:

After touring the park, I went over to the Peace Memorial Museum 平和祈念資料館. Back in 1990 during my first visit to Hiroshima, there was only one building, and I was somewhat disappointed by the lack of context given to the displays. It was as if just one day, for no apparent reason, this terrible bomb fell out of the sky, eventually killing 140,000 innocent people. Since my last visit, however, a new building has been constructed which does an excellent job of placing the tragedy in a broader perspective. Hiroshima's history as a military city from the Meiji period 明治時代 onward is explained in detail, including right up to August 6, 1945. 

There are also displays on the decision made by the American government to drop the bomb. Apparently, the original plan was to demonstrate the power of the atomic bomb on the Japanese fleet based at the Pacific island of Truk. However, officials wanted to see what the bomb could do to an urban area, and Hiroshima was chosen as one of the unlucky test candidates. From the documents displayed in the museum, at least, it appeared little if any consideration was given to the effects the bomb would have on men, women and children.

Both the newer and older parts of the museum are fascinating, in a very horrifying sense of the term. There are photographs of the damage (the second picture was one of the few taken in the city itself on the day of the bombing):

There are also personal effects like watches frozen in time at 8:15am, the moment when the bomb detonated:

A great many of the victims were students, who were outside involved in demolition work (they were helping to create fire breaks as many buildings in Japan at that time were made of wood and therefore susceptible to fire in air raids) when the bomb was dropped. In some cases, their bodies were never found, and all that remained were pieces of clothing or schoolbags. Others managed to make it to their homes, only to die there, and their families later donated some of their belongings they had with them when they died to the museum. The hardest for me was the tricycle belonging to a boy of almost four. He was riding it outside when the bomb exploded, and his bereaved father buried his son along with the trike in the family's backyard. 

Back in my younger, more right-wing days, I followed the party line - the atomic bomb was terrible, but it shortened the war and saved more lives in the long run. While it's easy to judge others in hindsight (and therefore feel morally superior by doing so), the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki 長崎 were done more as a test of the new weapon's capabilities than as a militarily expedient strategic option (the Japanese were on the verge of starvation, and the Soviet Union was getting ready to invade Manchuria). To its credit, the Peace Memorial Museum refuses to pass any moral judgements, but its obvious from the displays that the people of Hiroshima paid a terrible price for the sins of others. As the saying goes, "No more Hiroshimas". 

The view from the corridor linking the older west building with the newer east building of the museum:

One final look at the A-bomb Dome before leaving the park:

The name "Hiroshima" may be synonymous with "nuclear holocaust", but the city has done a remarkable job in rebuilding itself from the ashes of the bombing. Here's the Hondōri arcade as lunchtime approached:

Speaking of food, Hiroshima is noted for its okonomiyaki お好み焼き, and the most popular place to have some is at Okonomi-mura お好み村, with 28 okonomiyaki restaurants packed into three floors. So I naturally chose a place outside, at street level, instead:

Fortified on the savory pancake (the beer didn't hurt, either), I rode the streetcar to the Hiroshima Prefectural Art Museum 広島県立美術館. Unfortunately, photography wasn't allowed inside, but the collection was pretty good, with pride of place going to Salvador Dali's surrealistic Dreams of Venus:

https://www.salvador-dali.org/en/artwork/catalogue-raisonne/colleccions/hiroshima-prefectural-art-museum-hiroshima/484/the-dream-of-venus

Behind the museum was the attractive Shukkei-en stroll garden 縮景園. Originally laid out in 1619, the garden was destroyed in the atomic bombing, and in fact the bones of some victims are interred there. The present Shukkei-en is a well-done reconstruction. This couple was having some wedding photographs taken on the grounds:

Some more photos, including a panoramic shot:

Shukkei-en served as a necessary dose of beauty after a morning related to atomic destruction. I did a little more walking around the central part of Hiroshima before returning to my hotel. This is the view from the 9th floor of the Parco department store パルコ:

The weather had improved greatly since the morning, so I decided to try again to see a baseball game. This time the Carp were playing the Chūnichi Dragons 中日ドラゴンズ, and it was no problem at all getting a ticket for the game. My dinner consisted of a hot dog, plus a Jun Hirose 廣瀬純 bentō 弁当:

There was still some time before the 6pm start of the game, so I took a walk around Mazda Zoom-Zoom Stadium .Just three years old, Mazda Stadium is a great improvement on the older Japanese ballparks. For one thing, it has real grass and not artificial turf, and the infield isn't all-dirt like at many older stadiums in Japan. It's also possible to walk the concourse around the entire stadium:

Looking outside, you could watch the bullet trains 新幹線 passing by:

My seat was along the third-base line:

The game turned out to be a pitchers' duel, with the starter for the Carp being Bryan Bullington, the No. 1 pick in the 2002 draft and a former top prospect with the Pittsburgh Pirates. Unfortunately for the home team's fans, the Dragons won this one 2-0:

It wasn't a cheap night out: the ticket was ¥3000 ($37); the hot dog, bentō and a couple of beers came to ¥2800 ($34); and the two souvenirs I purchased (a teddy bear for Amber and a cap for myself) set me back ¥4400 ($54). In other words, seeing a baseball game in Japan is just as expensive as seeing an MLB contest in the States! But it was a good game, and I had a good time, so I was glad I was able to go.

Like virtually all large Japanese urban areas, Hiroshima has thousands of places to eat and drink after dark. I took a walk through one entertainment district, Nagarekawa 流川, before retiring for the evening: