Golden Week: Hiroshima

May 22, 2010

Hiroshima was our last stop. We arrived by ferry on May 4th and took a street car to the center of the city. Thus far, all my cities have been obscure, but I’m sure the name Hiroshima rings a bell. The iconic Atom Bomb Dome, stripped bare and mangled, sits at the beginnings of Peace Park; follow all those paper cranes until you come to the Peace Museum detailing the horrors of the end of World War II.

Hiroshima Castle

But neither Masako nor I were in any mood to visit the Peace Park or the Peace Museum. Masako had been traumatized by the museum, and I, having seen it once before, wanted to see other aspects of the city. So, instead, we went to Hiroshima Castle and Shukkei Park.

Hiroshima Castle is, naturally, a reconstruction; it was already a wreck before the Atomic Bomb dropped and finished it off. One interesting thing I noticed was that there were ruins of former military headquarters all over the grounds of the castle. In fact, one sign said that Hiroshima Castle hosted “the partially underground strategic command control room and the communication room of the Chugoku Regional Military Headquarters” during World War II. I couldn’t help but wonder if this was one of the reasons Hiroshima was targeted for the atomic bomb. This same sign also mentioned that students from the Hijiyama Girls’ High School were working in this same communication room, and they were the first ones to report the news of Hiroshima’s destruction to the rest of Japan.

Ruins of Old Military Headquarters

Today the castle is beautiful. There are green lawns and green trees and green-blue water in the moat. The “Carp Castle” Hiroshima Castle is sometimes called, and indeed, it lived up to its name. Carp swam in the moats and carp flags blew in the wind at a shrine in the castle grounds. Inside the castle, there was good English signs, and I found out interesting things about the Lord of Hiroshima Castle.* I have to say, it was my favorite castle of the trip.

Shukkei Garden

Shukkei Garden is no one’s prize-winning garden, but it was fun and, because it happened to be Green Day, we got in free. And really, how can you not love a garden where turtles swim so close you can reach your fingers into the water and stroke their smooth shells? There were several small islands and stone bridges and huge Peony flowers shaded by artful red umbrellas.

Turtles at Shukkei

But the best part was when we stopped for a snack. Masako bought a cone of soft serve ice cream and discovered that she had gotten two cones instead of one—when she bit into the paper wrapper of the second one. She had to gnaw the edges of the first cone while pulling out the paper of the second, all the while I laughed and cruelly snapped photos.


The specialty food of Hiroshima is okonomiyaki—a kind of savory pancake. Usually it’s a mixture of batter, cabbage, and meat, but in Hiroshima-style okonomiyaki, or Hiroshima-yaki, they make each layer separately and add yakisoba noodles to boot. I still remembered the first time I came to Hiroshima, as an exchange student, in March of 2005. We came to the station at noon, and the smoke of okonomiyaki filled our nostrils. But time was short, and the counters were crowded. So, we went to another restaurant and passed on our one chance to eat Hiroshima-yaki.

Okonomiyaki: Phase 1

I have regretted that moment ever since.

This time, I was bound and determined to eat Hiroshima-yaki, so Masako and I hunted down a place called Okonomiyaki Mura (Village). It was actually a building with three stories crammed with cheap-looking okonomiyaki stands, none all the different than the rest. Masako and I finally decided on one run by an old man with baseball posters.

Okonomiyaki: Phase 2

Watching the okonomiyaki cook is half the fun, so I took plenty of pictures and hastily scribbled notes (which, after three weeks, no longer make sense). Here’s the gist of it: first the man ladled a thin amount of batter, like a crepe, onto the sizzling iron counter. He piled cabbage, bean sprouts, green onions, tempura bits, and pork onto the crepe, also sprinkling seasoning, and added oil to the grill. Then he flipped the whole thing over, so that the pancake was on top and the pork was directly under the heat. The pancake acted as a lid, he explained, and steamed the vegetables. The vegetables steamed for some time. In the meantime, he put yakisoba noodles (cold ramen) on the counter and fried it up with salt and oil. The pancake went down the yakisoba. The last ingredient was an egg, which he scrambled into a yellow circle. When the okonomiyaki was arranged, pancake-side first, on the plate, he cut it into four pieces with his spatulas, painted on okonomiyaki sauce, and topped it all off with bits of seaweed.

So, now I had my Hiroshima-yaki. My purpose in this vacation was complete. I could go home a happy woman.

Okonomiyaki: Final Result

* The Lord of Hiroshima: I was trying to find out the family crest of the Lord of Hiroshima, when, lo and behold, I discovered it was the exact same motif as Lord of Choshu (Yamaguchi): a bar and three dots. The Lord’s name was Mori—again, sounding familiar of Choshu. Well, it turned out that Mori Terumoto was the Lord of Choshu—and Hiroshima—and about 5 other Domains. (Makes sense; Yamaguchi and Hiroshima are neighbor prefectures.) However, Mori lost in the crucial battle of Sekigahara in 1600 to the Tokugawa family and their allies. As a result, he lost all but two Domains, and had to give up Hiroshima to the Fukushima and later Asano families. Which sort of explains why Choshu hated the Tokugawas enough to overthrow their entire 250 long reign as Shoguns by the year 1868. Oh, the hostility that battle caused. Another loser of Sekigahara, Satsuma (Kagoshima) also helped topple the Shogunate.