I woke up at 6:50. I don’t know why this keeps happening, and really I would prefer more sleep, but it’s great for laptop time without impacting my day!

I wrote and published a summary blog post on Bali before getting up to eat my Blu Jam leftovers and get dressed. I still felt nerve pain but it was mild; I did a set of 10 press-ups before walking to Ebisu Station. I had decided on a day trip to the bayside town of Kamakura today, easily accessible on a single rail line that is covered by the JR Pass.

My train was due to arrive at 9:58. The digital signs announce incoming trains and their scheduled times. At 10:00, the 9:52 train to somewhere arrived, and I was both aghast that a train in Japan was late and uncertain that this was not my train! Most transit signs are in English but not all of them, and sometimes they alternate between Japanese and English and not necessarily in the moment an English speaker might need. I used other clues — the end destination for which train lines are named did not match the one I needed — to conclude that my train was yet to come. Sure enough, it arrived 5 minutes late at 10:03. Gasp!

I loosely followed Tokyo Cheapo’s guide to Kamakura, particularly the suggestion to start at Kita-Kamakura station, where I arrived at 11:00. The outdoor train platform was very, very long. An exit gate randomly appeared at a break in the fence behind the platform, and a tourist couple went through. I wondered whether I should too, but I didn’t know yet which direction to go to reach the first temple suggested in the guide, so I continued on to the end of the platform where the main gates and agent booth were.

Without the pocket wifi, navigation on my phone was unfortunately very slow. I had scheduled a calendar event for yesterday in my phone before I left Portland to purchase a data pass with T-Mobile, since they were available in 10-day increments and that would coincide with my remaining 10 days here, but I didn’t open my calendar and I thought I had the use of the pocket wifi anyway. By the time I used the restroom and loaded a map with directions to the first temple recommended by the guide, a half hour had gone by already!

I followed Google Maps directions to walk back the entire length of the train platform but on an adjacent path outside of the station. Which I soon found was blocked by a construction project. The only way to continue on the path was to reverse course back to the main gates, enter the train station, and walk the long platform back to that random exit I’d seen ::facepalm::

When I did that, an agent at the smaller gate stopped me and tried to direct me back down the platform again. I would later find out that if I’d kept going out the main gates in the same direction, I would have arrived at a set of steps leading up to Engakuji. I didn’t know that, though, and protested to the agent that I was going the way I needed to, showing him the map on my phone. He bought it and directed me to the stairs I was apparently looking for.

I may have gone the “wrong” way, but I am totally happy with the stairs that I took rather than the main stairs that most people take. They led up to a path that bordered the occasional residence on one side and a valley view on the other. I passed a home with a water feature behind a fence that I could not see but whose peaceful trickle I enjoyed.

More stairs and a windy path eventually spilled me onto the grounds of the Engakuji Temple. I started at the very large wooden Sanmon, or Main Gate into the temple grounds, followed by the butsuden, or Buddha Hall. A sign advised me to take off my shoes before entering the butsuden. I admired and photo’d the large Buddha inside and observed the behavior of people coming in to pray: the coin offering, the bowing, the clapping. I wanted to follow the ritual but I did not want to make a mockery of it, so I simply watched.

Upon exiting, I noticed I was the only visitor in bare feet. I had neglected to notice the box of slippers available at each of two entryways after one has removed one’s shoes. Ah, well.

I made my way toward the entrance/exit down the stairs that I didn’t take when I arrived and came upon a row of vending machines, which are everywhere in Japan. So many vending machines with coffee, soda, and water. I bought a refreshing-sounding soft drink called Green Lemon that came in an aluminum can shaped like a bottle. It was, in fact, refreshing, but it also leaked a little bit and made my hands sticky while I was managing photo-taking and carrying an info pamphlet at my next stop.

Across the train tracks and a block or so down the main road is Shōkozan Tōkei-ji, founded in 1285 by a nun. Actually, she was a widow, and women were expected to become nuns when their husbands died. So she founded a nunnery as a refuge for battered women, who had no right at the time to seek a divorce but could petition for one after three years at the temple, and so it came to be known as the Divorce Temple. I wandered the grounds for a half hour or so, a cemetery being a large part.

At this point, I had the option to hike up to 90 minutes to the next point of interest, but it was pretty hot out, I hadn’t eaten enough for that, and I was going to end up with a lot of walking for the day even without a hike, so I went back to Kita-Kamakura Station and took the train one stop to Kamakura Station. The next stop was a bus ride away, but first I wanted lunch. With my slow wifi, I looked up nearby options that I might like and landed on inari (yum).

Just across from the station, a huge torii gate served as the entrance to Komachi-dori, a cute pedestrian shopping street. I was looking for a place called Hannari, but Japanese businesses don’t always have their Romanized name displayed on a sign. When I reached the point on the map where I should see it, I went in to a busy corner shop offering samples of nuts and peppers and other things I didn’t recognize. I asked the cashier “Hannari?”, and she very kindly walked me out and pointed me in the right direction. I still didn’t see what I was looking for until I realized it’s not a shop but a stand.

I was thankfully able to order from a picture menu. The woman in the stand spoke lots of Japanese to me during our brief transaction, none of which I understood at all, but we got by. She handed me a cute little box of food, and when I made a hand-cleaning gesture as a means of asking where I would find a napkin, she gestured in turn that it’s inside the box already. To ask her where I could sit, I needed Google Translate. She pointed up and behind her stand, where I found a short set of stairs leading first to a bench and then upward further to some other businesses. The bench was directly in the sun, but I really needed to sit somewhere, anywhere, and I had this little corner all to myself for a moment.

After lunch, I was in the mood for dessert. I had seen an image in front of a sweets shop that gave me the impression they had mochi ice cream, but it turned out to be a kind of truffle. Mental note: get mochi before I leave Japan. I perused a soft serve stand (they are seriously everywhere) but left when I heard the staff use the word “American” to the patrons ordering. Without context, I assumed this was an explanation of the offerings. An American doesn’t need an American dessert while in Japan!

The Tokyo Cheapo guide mentions the option of taking a bus from gate 6 at Kamakura Station to my next stop, Kōtoku-in. I walked back to the station and found gate 6, checking with the driver of the bus waiting there to make sure he was going where I thought he was. I must not have pronounced Kōtoku-in correctly, because he did not understand me twice, and finally I said, “Buddha,” and he nodded.

What drew me to Kamakura, besides being recommended as a delightful day trip, was that it is home to the “Great Buddha”, or Daibatsu, the second-largest in Japan. The bronze statue dates back to 1252, and owing to the destruction of multiple temple buildings by typhoons and tsunami, it has been in the open air since 1498.

The bus took less than 15 minutes across Kamakura, and I managed to get off at the right stop, with the Daibatsu entrance just across the street. Other than the massive throng of fellow tourists, the sight did not disappoint. The 44-feet-tall Buddha is gorgeous with its green patina and in its serene repose. I admired it from various angles for an hour or so, here and there taking photos and asking for other visitors if they wouldn’t mind taking some of me.

To get back to Kamakura Station, I could take the bus again, or I could walk a bit to the Hase train station. I opted to walk a bit out of the way, past the train station, to reach Sagami Bay. I can’t imagine visiting a bayside town and not seeing the water! I enjoyed the 10-minute walk, passing by small shops and restaurants, and finally stopped for dessert. I got a soft serve after all, a green tea and vanilla swirl, which I’ve never seen in America 😉

Reaching the beach, I took off my shoes and let the tide ebb and flow over my feet. How surreal and cool to have a beach town experience in Japan (since it’s not the first thing that comes to mind as characteristic of the country).

I walked back to Hase Station and took the Enoden line back to Kamakura Station. It was almost 17:00 and I was feeling realllly done for the day, but I pushed myself to see one more stop. For the sake of time, I had skipped Hasedera Temple near Hase Station, which was recommended by the guide. I did want to see Tsurugaoka Hachimangu shrine as I could see on Google Maps that there were ponds on the grounds, and it was situated at the end of Komachi-dori, which I hadn’t seen all of as I’d stopped when I found lunch.

As it turned out, my back was starting to ache and the shops were closing up anyway, so I pretty much powered up Komachi-dori to reach the shrine. I entered through another very large torii gate (to the side and not through the center which is reserved for spirits/gods) and walked over one of two arched bridges to view a lilypad-covered pond. The two ponds represent rival clans from the 12th century.

I walked the long main approach past a stage for music and dance performances and up the long steps to the main hall. Turning around, the long view went past the steps and the stage through the torii gate and up Wakamiya Ōji, Kamakura’s main street, all the way to the bay.

I walked back to Kamakura Station via Wakamiya Ōji rather than Komachi-dori because I hadn’t seen it yet. A much wider avenue of shops, in the center runs a pedestrian pathway lined with cherry trees. Ah, to be here in April. As I made my way to the station, I was surprised to see a man pulling an empty rickshaw! I didn’t know this was a transportation option here.

From 18:00 to 19:00, I rode the train back to Tokyo and looked up where I might eat dinner. I wanted more sushi and researched options near the listing. There weren’t a lot and the reviews in Google Maps were both infrequent and in Japanese, so I just chose the closest one.

I initially walked right past it as its storefront is not on the street. Rather, a large sign lists a number of businesses that can be found up an escalator that is set back from the sidewalk. The sign, along with a Japanese logo, said “Food & Restaurant” could be found on floor 2. Up the escalator and off to the right I found an elegant entryway I would not expect to see at what felt like an office strip mall. Through the curtain I found an even prettier rock path leading to a sliding wooden door.

Upon entering Sushi Dokoro Hashiri, I felt a bit like I’d stepped into a private party. An L-shaped counter sat approximately 10 people. Three of those seats were occupied around the corner, the dining patrons giving their attention to the chef in the center. All 4 of them turned to look at me, and I was relieved to find that the chef spoke English, at least enough to get by during dinner. He first asked if I had reservations, which of course I did not, but that seemed to be OK as he seated me in the 7th or 8th slot.

I ordered a small beer from the beverage menu, brought to me by a hostess/server who spent most of the evening standing at attention near the kitchen, available but mostly on the periphery of the proceedings. The chef placed two large wooden rectangular boxes with glass lids in front of me and pulled the lids off to reveal several types of fresh, raw fish. I asked if there was a food menu to help guide me, and …. no, there is not.

!!!

Holy shit, what is this place. I was simultaneously exhilarated at the sushi experience I was about to have and terrified about what I might have gotten myself into money-wise. I had literally no idea if I would be spending $30, $50, $100…? Is sushi less expensive in Japan than the U.S. because it’s local and commonplace? Is this a typical Japanese sushi dinner, or is this special even in Japan?

I just went with it.

They have a chef’s course and they have a la carte. I can never make it through a prix fixe multi-course meal and was pretty sure that was going to cost more than I wanted to pay. So I began perusing and asking about the fish options.

I chose tuna and asked for 4 pieces, jackfish (1 piece), and salmon roe (1 piece) — all of them nigiri. I watched the chef throughout his preparation of my meal. First, he prepared my plate with ginger slices and poured soy sauce into a shallow dish. He sliced the fish, formed balls of vinegar’d rice, carefully scooped the roe.. each of his movements practiced and precise. I was entranced.

Honestly, when I ate each piece, I was not bowled over with the best sushi I’d ever tasted in my life, but this became less about the food and more about the personal, intimate service. In between speaking with the other 3 patrons he served, the chef talked to me about the fish, asked me about my travels, told me about their San Francisco location (!) and how he learned English.

On that note, we had some miscommunication.

My 7th piece was nishin, a type of herring, and the 8th was shiro ebi, a shrimp. I was surprisingly full after 8 pieces; when I was offered green tea, I didn’t feel I had the room but I wasn’t ready for my dining experience to be over, so I accepted.

I kept photos to a minimum so I could be immersed in the present moment but I did take brief notes on my phone as to what I ate. When I asked the chef to remind me about the second piece I’d had, the jackfish, he thought I was asking for more and made me another piece! I saw it happening but I wasn’t entirely sure he’d pulled out the fish and was slicing it for me until he placed it in front of me. What else to do but eat a 9th piece…

Then he shared another bonus piece with me that he was serving to the other gentlemen in the room, a cucumber roll with shiso leaf and sesame. As full as I was, that was delightful. As were the four cherries served to me to complete the meal once and for all. Whew.

I sat for another 15 minutes or so with my tea before I gestured to the hostess with the universal signing gesture for the bill. When she brought it over, I admit that, even knowing I could be in for sticker shock, I still did a bit of a double take. The total was ¥9,500, or about $87 USD. It was handwritten on an otherwise blank piece of paper, i.e. not itemized. I did not know who calculated this figure or how, whether each of my pieces was counted… and ultimately, it did not matter. My shock faded quickly into acceptance as I considered what I’d gotten for my money. (Plus, my entire day in Kamakura had cost me ¥1,800, or all of about $16 USD.)

I got up to leave and wanted to use the full phrase for “thank you” out of honor and respect. Rather than just “arigato”, I said, “arigato gozai mashita”, pronouncing each syllable — ma/shi/ta. The room laughed. Neither at me nor with me, and I didn’t know why. As with my bare feet in the temple, I self-deprecatingly laughed at myself as the doofy American. I later heard the final word in the phrase pronounced as “mahsh/da”. Ah, well. Now I know!

It was only 20:30 when I left the restaurant, but it felt like 23:00 and I desperately needed to lay my achy back down in bed.

I did my stretches and got in bed to write but did not write. I would soon be in Osaka and did some prep, researching the Kansai One Pass, a transit card I might use, and messaging my Airbnb host, which in turn led to me checking work email (sigh). I purchased the T-Mobile data pass that would really have come in handy today but which I could at least use over the next 9 days. I logged my cash transactions for the day and I looked at Instagram. Alas, no blogging.

At 23:30, it was sleepytime.