Japan – Hiroshima

Hiroshima lies on the South coast of Japan and is now quite a trendy city despite it’s tragic past. As such, Phoebe and I, lord and lady of “the trend”, would settle in quite nicely. We took our residence in a log house – the brainchild of an artsy Japanese couple who had also decided that blinds obviously negatively affect the Feng Shui of the building despite the fact that it lights up to the brightness of the sun at 5am every morning.

A log house not dissimilar to our accommodation. At least it had blinds.
After dumping our rapidly swelling backpacks, we took to foot and explored the delights of Hiroshima. Phoebe was well behaved and didn’t kick too many cherry blossom trees so I allowed her a brief break into the Pokemon centre for five minutes. Within that time she had spent nearly 30 quid so I learnt my lesson rapidly. We then ventured into Hiroshima memorial peace park; a park with lots of strange sculptures bent in funny ways. A trip to the memorial museum about the history of the A-Bomb in 1945 left us in a thoughtful, slightly saddened mood which was only later cut through by the brashness of a Japanese McDonalds or what I like to call a chicken Teri-Maccy.
Atomic bomb hit building. (I’ll be respectful for the first time in my long and successful blogging career)
After lots of recommendations, we took the ferry over to Miyajima to see what all the fuss was about. Miyajima is an island just South of Hiroshima which is home to Japan book favourite – the floating tori. Aside from this, there is the sprawling presence of another herd of greedy deer (presumably they had a falling out from Nara deer and sailed across one day in outrage) and some very unique specialities… For some unknown reason, the people of Miyajima have managed to sustain a livelihood on the foundations of the profitable spatula, eel and maple leaf shaped biscuit industries. Hoping to continue these pointless industries for future generations, I naively tried the biscuits, foolishly believing them not be filled with an ooze of red bean, and Phoebe bought a spatula with a smiley face. Our conscience cleared, we went to the giant red temple thing that was mostly sat on mud and a thin film of seawater when the tide came in. The Tori was indeed impressive but required using the aforementioned spatulas to bat selfie-taking couples out of the way to see it. We also paid 300 yen for a stamp; I still to this day wonder why. I have my inclinations that it’s to subsidise a dying maple biscuit industry, but who knows. As we left Miyajima after a long day of bemusement, we saw some deer preventing an elderly gentleman from closing his family-run establishment. I find it hard to believe people can sleep at nights with deer-run mafia syndicates outside terrorising the neighbourhoods, probably on a black market spatula industry…
Impractical positioning of a gate.
Lots of monks with wooly hats. I wish I could explain why this is a thing. They had money on them though which was more than what we felt after getting an eel soup that lunch.
Poor man shivering in fear as the deer cartel rolls by…
From two people now sick of deer.

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