As the passage into the harbour
widened we had our first glimpse of
Nagasaki town in the haze of the
morning, nestled in a most beautiful
inlet at the foot of wooded hills
.
Although few visitors these days
arrive by boat and the woods are
diminished, many would agree with
British landscape painter Sir Alfred
East, who came here in 1889, that NAGASAKI
is one of Japan's more picturesque
cities, gathered in the tucks and
crevices of steep hills rising from
a long, narrow harbour supposedly
shaped like a crane in flight. It's
not a particularly ancient city, nor
does it possess any absolutely
compelling sights. Instead,
Nagasaki's appeal lies in its
easy-going attitude and an unusually
cosmopolitan culture, resulting from
over two centuries of contact with
foreigners when the rest of Japan
was closed to the world, and
cemented by its isolation from
Tokyo.
Nagasaki would probably have
remained just a pleasant, attractive
city with a bustling harbour if a
chance break in the clouds on August
9, 1945 hadn't seared it into the
world's consciousness as the target
of the second atomic bomb
dropped on Japan. It's the A-Bomb
hypocentre and nearby museum, as
harrowing as that in Hiroshima
, that brings most people to
Nagasaki, yet the city has much else
to offer. Successive communities of
Chinese, Dutch, Portuguese and
British have left their mark here to
varying degrees, building colourful Chinese
temples , Catholic churches
and an array of European-style
houses gathered in Glover Garden, as
well as imported cuisines and
festivals. Despite efforts to stamp
out another European import, the
Catholic faith, Nagasaki remains
Japan's centre of Christianity
, claiming one sixth of the
country's believers. It's possible
to cover the two main areas - the
hypocentre and around Glover Garden
- in a day, but Nagasaki deserves at
least one extra night's stopover to
explore its backstreets, soak up
some atmosphere and sample a few of
the city's culinary treats.
