Predictably I missed by train at Hakata. I thought the number 16 printed on my ticket was the platform. Not wanting to wait for the next train for which my ticket was valid I hopped on a bullet train bound for Osaka. To avoid unwanted attention from ticket inspectors I quickly sat down in the first seat I could find. I looked around at the sparsely populated carriage and luxurious recliners and realised I was in first class.
I decided that I would pretend to be asleep to avoid detection. Soon after gliding out of the station a trolley dolly came along selling her wares, stopped at me and pointed up above to the word ‘reserved’. ‘Yes that’s me I replied’ and although she looked a little awkward she continued along the carriage.
I was only ousted from my seat only once by a passengers boarding at the next station and was happily relaxing until a man looking very much like a proper ticket inspector came through checking tickets as we approached Hiroshima.
His uniform was very impressive and at first I thought he might have been a policeman sent by the waitress. I confidently handed him my ticket at which he took a long hard look. He gave it back to me only to ask to see it again making me suffer more anxious moments. Wrong time train wrong class of train and wrong passenger class. He looked at me, pointed to the ticket and said something I didn’t understand. Then he simply gave up and left.
Being a bewildered tourist who doesn’t speak the lingo certainly has its benefits.
Hiroshima is full of reminders of the A bomb which devastated the place in 1945. The peace memorial hall wasn’t open so I was spared what would undoubtedly have been gruesome photos of the mass murder of the civilian population by the Americans.
Hiroshima castle is picturesque with the moat and a blue sky.