It was pouring rain. Not that gentle, romantic drizzle you see in movies, but a proper, gray, soul-dampening downpour. I had just gotten off the tram near Peace Memorial Park, umbrella flipping inside out, soaked through to my socks. The kind of day that makes you want to just give up and go back to bed. But then, as I was standing there, shivering and trying to figure out which way to go, the sky… just broke open. The clouds parted, the sun blasted through, and this weird, impossible light fell on the A-Bomb Dome. It hit me—Hiroshima isn’t just a place to remember something terrible. It’s a city that keeps trying. It finds the sun after the rain. And that right there, that’s the whole dang spirit of the place.

The Heaviness and the Hope

Look, you can’t come to Hiroshima and not go to the Peace Memorial Park. It’s the reason most people are here. But walking it is a different experience than just seeing pictures. The A-Bomb Dome is exactly as it sounds—the skeletal remains of a building, a silent witness to a moment that changed everything. You can’t enter it, but you don’t need to. Just seeing it, standing there in the sun, tells you everything. It’s gut-wrenching, but also… defiant. It’s a reminder of what happened, but also that it survived.

Then there’s the museum. Man, that place is heavy. The exhibits are brutal, honest, and unflinching. They don’t hold back. I saw melted tri-cycles, tattered clothing, and photos that just punch you in the stomach. It’s not an easy visit. I saw a lot of people crying. I teared up myself. But it’s a necessary trip. It’s not about blame; it’s about making sure it never happens again. The museum is a testament to humanity’s capacity for both utter horror and incredible resilience.

[My blurry phone shot of the A-Bomb Dome against a perfect blue sky after the storm]

Okonomiyaki and a Lesson in Layers

Everyone talks about Hiroshima okonomiyaki, but I didn’t get it at first. I’d had the Osaka version, all mixed up and fluffy. This is a different beast entirely. It’s all about the layers. First the crepe, then cabbage piled so high you think it’ll fall off, then bean sprouts, a little pork, and finally noodles (a crucial difference!). It’s cooked on a big teppanyaki grill right in front of you.

I went to a random place in Okonomimura—the “okonomiyaki village,” a building packed with tiny stalls, each with its own master chef. Sat down at the counter and watched the guy work. He was a master, flipping and patting with this intense focus. I ordered one with squid and cheese. It was messy, it was massive, and it was glorious. The sweet sauce, the noodles, the crisp cabbage, and the gooey cheese… I’m still dreaming about it. A local told me it’s the city’s soul food, born from the post-war reconstruction. It’s cheap, filling, and a perfect metaphor for the city: lots of layers, built up and cooked with care. It’s pure, messy joy.

A Side Trip That Isn’t a Side Trip

Everyone says go to Miyajima, and they are not wrong. It’s an island a short train and ferry ride away from Hiroshima.From Miyajimaguchi Station, the JR ferry is about ¥180 (per Japan-Guide.com, 2025 data), and it’s covered by the JR Pass if you have one. The moment you step off the ferry, you’re greeted by wild deer. They are everywhere and completely unafraid of people, just ambling around like they own the place.

The famous floating torii gate at Itsukushima Shrine is the main attraction, and it’s spectacular. I was lucky enough to go when the tide was high, so it really looked like it was hovering on the water. The whole shrine feels ancient and serene. But what I loved just as much was hiking up to Mount Misen. There’s a ropeway (cable car) you can take for a round trip of about ¥1,800, which is worth it for the views. From the top, you can see the Seto Inland Sea, an impossible patchwork of islands and sparkling water. It’s so quiet and beautiful up there, a complete contrast to the bustling city. It’s a day trip, yes, but it’s an entire world away.

[A snapshot of a deer on Miyajima, staring right into my camera like a proper tourist]

Hidden Gardens and a Castle that Isn’t a Castle (But Is)

Back in the city, I needed a moment away from the big tourist spots. I found Shukkei-en Garden, and it felt like stepping into a peaceful, miniature landscape. It’s a classical Japanese garden with tiny hills, streams, and tea houses. I wandered the paths, crossed little red bridges, and just let the quiet wash over me. It was so peaceful, you’d never know a major city was just outside the walls. For about ¥260 (per a recent travel vlog I found on YouTube), it’s the best cheap therapy you can get in Japan.

Then there was Hiroshima Castle. It was destroyed in the bombing but was rebuilt. The inside is a museum dedicated to samurai history and the Edo period. It’s not the real thing, but it’s a beautiful replica. Standing on the top floor and looking out, you get a view of the whole city. It’s a powerful symbol of rebirth, of a city rebuilding itself from the ground up, literally.

Notes to Myself (and You)

• Food Tip: Don’t just get okonomiyaki. The oysters here are incredible. Hiroshima produces over 60% of Japan’s oysters, so they’re a big deal. Find a street stall on Miyajima and get them grilled. They’re salty, smoky, and absolutely plump. A must-try. Also, try tsukemen noodles, a spicy cold dipping noodle dish that’s perfect in the summer heat. A local blog I found (in a translated, messy-looking post) noted that the soupless dandan noodles at a place like Kunimatsu are a must-try.
• Budgeting: Trams within the city are a flat fare of ¥160, making it super easy to get around (Source: Inside Kyoto, 2025 info). Walk everywhere you can. The Peace Park area is very walkable. I used my Suica card and it worked everywhere. Found a good deal on a hotel, APA Hotel Hiroshima-Ekimae Ohashi, on travelgui.com. Rooms are small, but who cares, you’re in Japan!
• Don’t Rush: I saw a lot of people just rushing through the Peace Park. Don’t. Take your time. Sit on a bench, watch the river, and just be. The city’s beauty is in its quiet moments of reflection as much as its busy streets.
• The Vending Machine: Yeah, there’s a pizza vending machine near Fukuromachi Park. It’s real. I didn’t try it, but the thought of it is wild. Maybe next time.

Hiroshima is more than just its past. It’s vibrant, delicious, and full of life. It teaches you that even after the darkest moment, there’s a way to find a new sun, a new light. It’s a city of resilience and quiet strength, and I’m so, so glad I went.

By Kei Tanaka, a wanderer with 10+ years diving into Japan’s hidden corners, sharing stories from real visits and verified sources.