But even if your world history doesn’t stretch back to 1945, there is still every reason to visit Hiroshima. It is a beautiful, spacious modern city with a laid-back atmosphere. Admiring the crisscrossed network of trams (Hiroshima is the only city in Japan that still has a tram system), enjoying the smooth tones of a saxophone street quartet, or walking over the bridges that span the many tributaries of the Ota river delta on which the city is built, you might be tempted to say there is a European feel about the place.

Although Hiroshima remains quintessentially Japanese, there is no doubt that it is a world city.

No nukes is good nukes
And that’s the message that the people of this remarkable city are trying to send out as dedicated ambassadors of peace and outspoken critics of nuclear warfare. Cynics would say that their commitment is also partly based on the tourist revenue and international support it brings, but those cynics should visit Hiroshima to see for themselves.

Monument in Hiroshima

The physical and spiritual centre of the anti-nuclear campaign is the Peace Memorial Museum, sharing the grounds of the leafy Peace Memorial Park with a few of the hundreds of commemorative monuments that can be found around Hiroshima. It has been said that, while the death of one person is a tragedy, the death of a hundred thousand people is a statistic. The aim of the museum, along with the nearby National Memorial Hall for Atomic Bomb Victims, is to make the suffering of every one of those "statistics" personal and vivid.

There's a lot to take in: historical contexts; a wealth of scientific information as well as the harrowing stories told by hibakusha, or A-bomb survivors, most of whom ultimately died of residual radiation and many of whom still battle with side-effects. Perhaps most poignant and shocking of all are remnants of the belongings of those who were ravished by the blast.

One of the more interesting exhibits shows the countless messages of protest sent by the mayors of Hiroshima to the governments of countries that have carried out nuclear testing — updated as recently as September 2003, when George "Dubya" joined the wall of shame.

Nuclear testing ground?
Hiroshima is altogether free of anti-American sentiment; but this was not always the case, and understandably so. Attempts at justifying the decision to bomb Hiroshima included the city’s tactical significance as a military base. Others have since pointed out, however, that Hiroshima’s natural position (nestled between low green hills and the inland sea to the south of Honshu, Japan’s main island), made it an ideal setting in which to test the effects of the new technology in a devastating theatre of cruelty.

These claims are strengthened by the fact that, unlike almost all other Japanese cities, Hiroshima was not heavily bombed earlier in the war — as if it was preserved, so that the force of the bomb could be more accurately measured.

What remains undeniable is the utter carnage and oblivion that followed detonation, a moment forever fixed on many watches at 8.15am. It takes quite an effort to imagine that, for miles and miles in every direction, everything was reduced to ash. Almost. A few buildings survived; one of these, the hollow shell of what had been a trading centre, now dubbed the Genbaku-dom (or A-bomb Dome), has been left as a perpetual reminder. In the heart of the city, it stands as a powerful symbol: sad, beautiful, stark, tragic, proud.

Vibrant city
And Hiroshima has many things to be proud of, although unfortunately its baseball team, the intimidatingly named "Hiroshima Carp", is not one of those. It is celebrated for its own version of okonomiyaki, a kind of Japanese savoury pancake, prepared and fried on huge communal hot-plates in front of customers. A mere smattering of Japanese will ensure a lengthy conversation with the friendly chefs as they pile the cabbage, egg, noodles, seaweed, pork and shrimp high and smother it all in their "secret sauce".

A number of traditional and modern art galleries boast an impressive display of paintings and sculptures by artists from Japan and around the world. And for those who are unable to make it to Miya-jima island, there is a chance to enjoy another ancient shrine set in beautiful hilly woodlands at Mitaki-ji, "Three Waterfalls"; far enough out of town to have survived the blast, but now just a short trip by bus away.

The "floating shrine" of Itsukushima-jinja
It must be said that missing out on Miya-jima — also known as Itsuku-shima — would be missing out on one of the most celebrated places in Japan: the venerated "floating shrine" of Itsukushima-jinja. Built on the muddy sand of a small bay, this bright red wooden structure has been designed so that, when the tide comes in, the waves lap against its walkways and colonnades, turning them into bridges and piers over the water.

Itsukushima-jinja: The floating shrine

Inland, pagodas and temples form an exquisitely Japanese backdrop, but it is the view out to sea that is most striking: the famous torii, or T-shaped shrine gate, whose massive tree-trunk pillars are reflected in the shallows when the tide is full, or can be admired up close when the water level drops. The story goes that a few hundred years ago, when the island was consecrated as a holy place, common citizens were not allowed to set foot on it when they made a pilgrimage to the shrine; the entry gate had to be planted in the sea to allow them to pass through it by boat.

Nowadays, however, the island is open to all and sundry. A spread of shops and restaurants near the harbour and shrine cater for the hundreds of tourists, young and old, who pass through on whistle-stop tours. In fact, the hordes of day-trippers can at times detract from the island’s special atmosphere. For this reason it’s a great idea to stay at least one night, preferably more, to appreciate it all at a slow pace and soak up the peace of dawn and dusk, when the stone lanterns lining the shore are lit and quiet descends on the narrow streets.

There is also plenty on offer away from the beaten track around Itsukushima-jinja. The beaches won’t meet the high standards of South Africans; and the "rope-way" (a series of cable-cars) up to the top of Misen-san, the revered mountain that rises in the centre of the island, might not provide views as dramatic as those on the trip up Table Mountain; but the interior of the island is nevertheless well worth exploring.

The walk to the base rope-way station takes you through a forest where more of Miya-jima’s disturbingly domesticated deer can be found; and, from the upper station, once you have braved your way through the colony of vicious-looking monkeys that hang around outside, a 30 minute walk along a beautiful path leads to the summit. Here, enormous boulders create a brooding, somewhat mysterious atmosphere, complementing the glorious 360-degree panorama across the inland sea. The observation deck provides some perspective on the ancient and modern significance of the surroundings: Japan’s southern islands lie off in the distance, and closer, to the north, over the now-tiny red gate out in the bay, Hiroshima.

If you don’t want to retrace your steps to the ropeway, following the pleasant trail that leads down the side of the mountain takes you, in about two hours, to Daisho-in; another beautiful temple at the foot of Misen-san, whose ponds and terraced buildings make an appropriately peaceful last stop before you head back to the mainland.