On Friday morning, we woke up and sought to eat onomayaki (sp?) for lunch (one of 3 foods that Hiroshima is known for) and ended up at the train station. We ate --it was ok, but I must confess that I was not especially fond-- then, we took the light rail to Peace Park. (At this point, it is worth mentioning that the our itinerary was never really revealed to me in advance.)

We disembarked and circumambulated the building that survived the blast. This, itself, was a bit of chilling experience, largely due to the accompanying signs that paint a detailed picture of that moment in time.

Next, we crossed the river and continued to walk through the park. We passed fountains, tree groves, grass fields, a big torch that has been burning for a long time, and some oragami. By the time, all was said and done, we were within 100 yards of a large academic-looking building. I said, "What's that?" She looked at me and said, "Do you want to go?" Then, she went on to explain how all children in Hiroshima take yearly field trips there and that everytime she visits, she gets sick and has sleep trouble.

In spite of that warning, I knew there was only one correct answer to her question. Besides, our moods had already dampened so I saw no harm in continuing the trend toward the end of developing a deeper understanding of the people of Hiroshima and their collective psyche.

So, we paid the nominal admission fee and entered the museum. In contrast with the museum the Chinese have erected in Nanjing to highlight Japanese autrocities during WWII, the Hiroshima museum does very little finger pointing and blaming. In fact, politics are hardly discussed at all. Rather, the message is a simpler one; "bombs are bad". In order to project this seem, it attempts to establish a connection between visitors and the blasts' victims. There are also exhibits on topics ranging from nuclear physics to the effects of radiation.

The museum is split into two halfs connected by a skybridge. My girlfriend's face started to look a bit flushed as we crossed the skybridge because that's where all the really disturbing stuff is stored. In the end, I found the "disturbing" stuff no more disturbing than anything else there or in the park. My girlfriend looked noticeably relieved when we reached the exit. Aparently, most of the gory exhibits (i.e. preserved deformed body parts) she was subjected to as a child have since been pulled.

When all was said and done, we hopped in the car and headed for a hot spring hotel near 江津. (Sorry, I don't know the Japanese reading).