Shinkansen to Hiroshima

Monday 24/4
So...or as the Japanese would say when pausing for thinking time, 'ano'....I arrived fresh from a very empty flight with 3 seats to myself, spent a bit of time at Haneda airport queuing up for my Japan Rail Pass and mobile wifi and then was on my way from Tokyo to Toyohashi. Lou met me at the station around lunchtime and we walked back to her apartment. All so easy. I'd managed a few hours sleep, following Japanese time, on the plane so I just had to keep awake until nightfall. This was done by skirmishes in the local shopping mall, so conveniently placed around the station, a drive out to the park (I enjoyed driving Lou's little car which looks like a white version of Postman Pat's van) and an amusing evening outing after supper. Lou 'chats' English with a couple of older men on a Monday evening. And this time she took her mother along. They were very sweet, the dentist and the soya sauce manufacturer and very game to practice their English in front of a stranger; coming up with words and phrases like 'mysterious' and 'I should dump her' ! (The latter about a 45 year old daughter
who still lived at home)When I asked what was the favourite English word, one came up with 'mistress'.....hmmmmmm

Tuesday and Wednesday 25-26

Lou was working so I'd organised a little side trip to Hiroshima. Shinkansens all the way and
everything running precisely to time, of course. Tuesday was sunny and I simply walked around the
Peace Park and took time to read a folder that was available, written by a man whose mother had
gone back into the irradiated area whilst he was in utero. I'd not appreciated how the victims had suffered twice over by being examined like guinea pigs, with little respect, after their terrible burning.


For a long time the after effects of the radiation were downplayed if not outright denied. There were pictures too of the pilot who'd flown the bomb in his aircraft, cheerily named Enola Gay after his mother. The Hiroshima bomb was uranium and archly named 'Little Boy' and although
horrendously devastating it was nothing compared to the plutonium  bomb unleashed on Nagasaki and code named 'Fat Man'.Much of the damage was proliferated later by the 'black rain' that scattered
radioactivity far and wide...affecting many school students who were 'mobilised' to help with the clear up operation; many also suffered huge mental scars from what they witnessed.

The peace park was filled with parties of school children all looking sombre as they listened to their guides. Now and again a deep gong-like chime of the peace bell carried across the river as people struck it in remembrance.
 There were also displays of folded paper cranes in memoriam.
In the information it talked of Japan's desire for complete ban on any power developing nuclear weapons, especially the U.S.....but, with the rumblings from Korea, I wonder how they feel at this moment. With this background, I also find it quite strange that the Japanese have embraced nuclear fission as their preferred way of producing energy.


I managed a little walk down a shopping arcade nearby and marvelled at a brush suppliers and art
shop....not quite knowing where to start I didn't buy....Jetlag caught up a bit so I retired to my hotel early and was asleep by 9, which of course meant that I woke in the wee small hours and didn't make
it back to the Land of Nod. The threatened rain began in the early hours and so I didn't get up quite as early as I'd planned to catch a very early ferry to Miyajima Island - or Itsukushima as it's also known - but even so, I was still on my way by about 7 am as I just couldn't get back to sleep.
Here began my soaking. Despite umbrella, I got exceedingly wet. When the rain rains in Japan it doesn't do it halfheartedly. On my 30 minute walk to the nearest station - Nishi-Hiroshima - my shoes sopped up water like a wick and by the train I boarded a commuter train crowded with workers and schoolchildren (some who looked barely out of nursery they were so wee) my socks were totally sopping. Just as well it wasn't seriously cold...around 19 degrees

At Miyajimaguchi station it was a short walk to catch a ferry; they run about every 10 mins and one was waiting. Some do a tourist detour past the famous Torii gate which sits in the bay '
floating' above the water...but I was on one so early it was simply ferrying working types.
This meant I was pretty much on my own wandering the island...coming across one other young man, possibly French, wielding his camera phone. We commiserated about wet feet and quietly went about recording the beauty of the place, enveloped as it was in low cloud and rain. The shrine of itsukushima is a world heritage site, rightly. Sadly the weather conditions prevented me from doing the tourist trail of rope walkway and view over the island - far too much cloud - but it can be another trip.
So, I retraced my journey of ferry and train and made it back to Hiroshima station where I knew I'd find shops. By this time I desperately needed dry shoes. I think I surprised  the polite male assistant at pretty posh shop Fukuyama with my fast purchase of a pair of white glove leather pumps for a searingly expensive amount. He packed away my sodden brogues unjudgmentally and obviously
worried that I'd now do the same to the new ones...thus he sprayed them with protector for me! In fact I only wore them in store and found a much cheaper pair of happy little mustard coloured pumps to go walkabout in. These were sold to me by 2 and sometimes 3 cheerful ladies who surrounded me with shoes to try on and ummmed and aaahed over my decision making with me every step of the
way!

Then it was back on the Shinkansen to Shin-Osaka changing for Toyohashi, with my lunch all sorted for the journey. On the first leg I had a little conversation with a lady who got off at Kyoto; I showed her photos of Lou and Kou getting blessed...and she was sweetly grateful! It happened again on the second leg...another older lady who had just being doing calligraphy lessons in Nagoya. As we both got off at Toyohashi she insisted on giving me a lift home - her husband was picking her up at the station. He turned out to be Mr Chikuwa ( chikuwa is a famous Toyohashi foodstuff of reconstituted fish in a kind of rubbery roll...not unlike surimi) and this guy was the son of the founder of the
company. If I say son this may give the wrong impression, both Mr and Mrs C were 83. She had proudly pointed to a huge hoarding in the station advertising the company - on which she had done
the calligraphy!

Thursday 27th
I was on my own as Lou was working...but I had a very jolly time walking to a shop that sells really quintessential Japanese goods and trying on some clothes and shoes...helped by an assistant who spoke a little English - gave me absolutely no bullshit 😊 And offered me matcha tea with asweetmeat to end my visit. I found a few omiyage (gifts) to take home too. Then I headed back to the station area where you always find good shopping...how sensible is that? And here I found a dress. Lou came in on the train from work and we wandered the food court, bought a little nibble for very late lunch (mine was chicken coated with some sweet sauce and sesame) and then bought the makings of a healthy supper; chicken, surimi, avocado, lettuce, broccoli, courgette  - all to be later compiled with a lemony, yogurty dressing. But the very few items in small amounts came to about £15 - food is more expensive than at home.

After an early supper Lou's friend Tomoko picked us up in her car (she had a very nifty reversing
technique leaning out of her open car door!) and drove us across the city to 'Art School' - a private affair run by an artist Suzuki, his artist wife and daughter...The mother in law was also in attendance. The students were mainly older ladies and gents with a couple of younger faces. It's basically evening class - this one helps people along with painting projects that they're working on for themselves and
Suzuki-San adds his expertise and guidance with a serious and calm affect. He'd been primed that Lou and I wanted to have a first go at Nihonga and we were set to work immediately. I chose something rather too ambitious in terms of initial drawing...should have gone simpler and given myself more time for the painting...but hey ho. Lou kept telling me it was just meant to be enjoyable as I huffed and puffed over my efforts!
There was a lot of tracing and transferring and then it was  outlining in ink with an impossibly fine brush (oops) I found later that all my blodges could be covered happily with the paint. First a layer of very opaque white body colour is applied over the outlines so that they just grin through greyly- and then you can fill the outlines with equally opaque colours. The pigments are so strong that they can be added to the opaque white (gofun?) without being made too pastel.
I had my head down a lot and wished I could have been able to look around at everyone else's efforts a bit more. They were all so kind to us and tea and snacks flowed. The elderly mother in law even rushed off and came back with a present of a pack of paintbrushes for me! Such a shame they're shut for Golden Week and I won't be able to go again. Well, not this time anyway....