We reached our connecting terminal, and were ushered without explanations into a series of confusing lines. However, as I surmised from the unwelcoming red letters, domestic connections involving luggage needed to be made 45 minutes in advance.
Exiting the train, we stepped out into the airport where Koji-san and I loaded our luggage onto a handcart. He had come specifically so he and Naoko-san together could watch our departure until the very plane itself vanished into the skies.
I arose, and showered in the kitchen. It was actually Hisachan’s birthday that day, but we wouldn’t have much time to celebrate until after we returned to Hiroshima.
Aesthetics rank of utmost importance in all things Japanese. I mean, look at this—this is just a simple breakfast, whipped up and slapped on the table.
After our visit to Gokoku Shrine on the old Hiroshima Castle grounds, we set out through downtown. Along the way, we came across the largest bike parking lot I’ve ever seen.
This particular shrine, called Gokoku Jinja, has no specific Kami, but rather commemorates those who perished in the wars of Japan’s past, up to and including the victims of the atomic bombs. A place to honor former lives.