hiking Jimmuji and Mt. Takatori, Tokyo wanderings, and scoring surf in Kamakura

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On a perfectly sunny day this past week I decided to endeavor a short day hike to Jimmu Temple on the Miura Peninsula, near Zushi. I followed directions from hike #2 in "Day Walks Near Tokyo" by Gary Walters. After departing the Jimmuji train I soon came to the trailhead where an elderly Japanese man was diligently caring for a sizeable bonsai garden complete with gurgling koi pond. He directed me onto the correct path and I proceeded along the greenest trail I had hiked in Japan yet. The main reason for this was the small stream rolling alongside the trail. Ferns and moss abound along the boulders and old stone steps carved by Buddhist monks were still an aide in gaining ground. It was also the quietest hike yet, where you could enjoy the smell of earth underneath your feet and in the surrounding plant life. I caught the tell-tale scent of incense before even seeing the temple itself. The temple was closed to the public this day, but I could still wander about the grounds. observing the temple bell, intricate architectural designs, and lonely bench where I sat amongst the bird calls and rustling tree branches to have a granola snack. Jimmuji dates back to the 8th century and is known for having been a refuge for fleeing samurai in 1590. I continued along the trail to the summit of Mt. Takatori with sweeping views of the surrounding urbana and a bit of Tokyo Bay. There were a couple of small sections where neat chain ropeway was anchored into the rock to aid where the path got a little tricky. At the top is an old rock quarry, now a very popular spot for rock-climbers as the walls have perfectly shaped handholds and challenges for all levels. I observed many climbers that were middle-aged (50's or so) climbing up these sheer walls (belayed of course), something I would be hard-pressed to accomplish myself. Japan is definitely an inspiringly health-conscious society, and I hope it remains that way. Upon exiting the quarry, I came upon my buddha fix for the day, an intricate stone-carved specimen. The remainder of the hike was a short way down to the streets, where I eventually found a train station to make my way back home.

The following day I met my new Japanese friend for lunch, who I know as the bartender at Anone, an izakaya (Japanese-style pub) in Yokosuka that we frequent every Thursday evening. She speaks very good English so it was a great opportunity to ask her questions that I had been pondering about Japanese culture. She took me to a great hole-in-the-wall coffee shop situated on a side street, where we settled into a lunch of salad greens, raisin bread, and a Japanese-style hamburger, which is really more like meatloaf with a fried egg on top in marinara sauce (no bun), tasty. The shop itself was full of antique-type furniture with a man in the back tailoring some clothing on an old sewing machine. The coffee that came at the end of our meal tasted fantastic!

On Saturday, my boyfriend and I braved the miserable weather conditions to do some book and cooking supply shopping in Tokyo. First, we took shelter at an Aoyama Book Center in Roppongi, where I was delighted to browse the ample English section which featured many of my favorite authors, including some European noir novelists, which I have had a difficult time finding in the U.S. I chose a translation of Basho's haiku journey, a famous book of Japanese poetry written in the 17th century that is typically required reading for students in this country. I am impressed by the vivid imagery that three little lines of words can shape, sometimes less is more. After shooting photos of Tokyo Tower poking eerily through the rain clouds, we enjoyed a delicious lunch of soba noodles at a small restaurant that has been serving for many generations and continued to make our way to Asakusa. The kitchen supply district is a string of specialty stores that covers a few blocks where you can purchase anything you could ever need to cook authentic Asian dishes, and/or open a restaurant. There are bamboo steamers, plastic fake food displays, hibachi grills, dishware, many types of cooking pots and tools, and of course the exquisite knives that Japan is so famous for. Any aspiring chef could spend hours and gobs of money here. We were entertained by simply trying to identify the function of some of the items. As the stores closed for the day, we headed onwards to view Sensoji, a large Buddhist temple amidst the streets of Tokyo. The buildings appeared majestic and almost garish in the glow of the night illumination. We strolled along Asakusa, eventually stopping to pull up to a bar stool at a wine bar in an area where the street was decorated with images of the tanuki, a drunken raccoon-like character. The wine was excellent and our seat at the bar provided a view of the chefs preparing dinners. It was fascinating to watch their silent, efficient dance amidst the impeccably maintained cooking space. Next, we enjoyed a wonderful sashimi dinner with a Japanese friend where we proceeded to attempt conversation using a mixture of rudimentary Spanish, English, and Japanese aided by several rounds of sake, beer, and chu-hi (Japanese liquor). Needless to say, it was an evening of hilarity.

Earlier in the week I had received word that a friend of a friend would be willing to take me along for a surf session in Kamakura on Sunday. The waves had been kicked up by a steady and rather strong south wind over the past two days, and with a forecasted switch to the north on Sunday, the surf was going to be on! This friend did not speak perfect English, but the sport of surfing has an unwritten rulebook with an international following, so I figured we would get along just fine. He was certainly able to piece together English phrases much better than I could attempt in Japanese, so we were able to socialize on a basic level. He graciously allowed me to borrow his 7'6" single fin funboard shape and even picked me up on the way at 5:45am. We drove down to the beach highway along Kamakura and scoped out the waves at a few different breaks. To our delight, the water was clean and forming up beautiful head high waves along the coast. Since the parking was very limited due to the amount of surfers that had traveled there that morning, we settled on Yugiahama Beach, where my friend pointed out the hundreds of surfers dotting the waves and called it 'heavy traffic' in English. Yes, I certainly agreed with that, but I have dealt with very crowded surf breaks before, so I was still game. After waxing the boards and donning wetsuits we made our way to the water where I eagerly paddled out to the lineup. Unfortunately, this spot was closing out a bit and the board took a little while to get used to since I am so familiar with longer-style boards, but I was surfing Japan, and that was enough stoke to make my day. Though there were hundreds of people in the water, I couldn't believe how quiet everyone was. In most of my experience, surfers tend to hoot and holler with excitement when they ride a nice wave or socialize with others. Not in Japanese surf culture. However, I noticed that everyone followed the rules of surfing, especially not snaking another's wave, no questions asked. People were courteous, non-competitive, and I never witnessed an argument of any type even though the lineup was packed. It was amusing to look around and realize I was the only white person in the sea of surfers, so of course I got a few curious looks, but it seemed others were too shy to come over and strike up a conversation in broken English. I didn't exactly tear it up out there, but didn't get skunked either. I kept reminding myself with a smile that I was surfing Japan, which is something I never imagined would happen. I was truly grateful to this stranger, a fellow surfer, that was willing to brave a language barrier to share some of his local surf stoke with me. I'd be surprised if this was the first and last time surfing here before departing in May, despite my currently sore muscles, I already can't wait to get back out there!

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