Listen to this while you read because I was listening to ODESZA on the Odoriku trains.
August 27
I usually address my birthday with casual ambivalence. This was not going to happen in Japan, where this muggy Sunday was labeled “Izzi Day” in our planning spreadsheet.
The night before, Max and I had wanted to go out dancing. We could have gone clubbing, but Tokyo’s trains stop running between 1:00 and 4:30ish in the morning, so going to a party that starts at 22:00 or midnight means that you’re committing to being out all night. I didn’t want to be hungover on my birthday, especially given this glaring reminder of my aging/inability to quickly recover, so we picked a chiller disco club and sprinted away at 23:40 to catch the last train back toward our hostel. Great choice: I was a bit tired in the morning but well-hydrated and motivated to make it to the beach.
Sitting on the train was sluggishly delightful. The Odoriku route winds through the endless suburbs of Tokyo and Yokohama, then down the east coast of the Izu Peninsula, often on a bluff directly above the dark ocean. We ate breakfast bentos. We listened to music. We napped a little, knowing that our destination was the last stop at the very bottom of the peninsula —impossible to miss. Organic moments of relaxation in transit are so sweet.
Shimoda is nothing like central Tokyo. There was barely anyone on the streets (fair enough, 100 degrees and direct sun). I’d found a well-rated lunch spot on Google Maps but hadn’t realized it was on top of a mountain and accessible only by aerial tram. This fit perfectly with the whimsy-based travel philosophy we developed in Tokyo, so soon we were sliding up Mount Nesugata on the Shimoda Ropeway (¥1500 roundtrip).
We took the local bus out of town, to our guesthouse, Gardenvilla Shirahama, and Shirahama Beach. A birthday beach day was exactly what I’d envisioned — a weekend respite from high-octane urban Japan. We spent the afternoon swimming, reading in the sun, walking to the seaside torii gate and back. Because Max and I wore bathing suits, our tattoos were visible and I was worried that might be insulting to someone since tattoos are fairly taboo in Japan (due to association with the yakuza). But this was a surf town and I actually saw tattoos all over!
Shirahama Beach doesn’t host any restaurants, so dinner came from a food truck and 7-ELEVEN: fresh takoyaki, french fries, yuzu wheat beer, and more onigiri (always, everyday). Falling asleep to the sound of ocean waves and knowing that I had designed this birthday for myself (and Max) was beautiful.
Sweet treat tracker: matcha shave ice (THE ROYAL HOUSE on Mount Nesugata), banana cakes (7-ELEVEN)
August 28
As I recall, August 28 was the hottest day of our trip. I sweat constantly while carrying my backpack around (con of a checkout morning). I woke up around 7:00 and called my parents from the guesthouse pool, since for them, it was still my birthday. (Note that it should really be mothers celebrated on birthday anniversaries.) The air was already filled with sticky-sweaty-heat early in the morning. We ate a delicious Western breakfast at the guesthouse, bussed back to downtown Shimoda, and walked around the marina, Perry Road, and Ryosenji (sweating nonstop).
Shimoda is where Matthew Perry’s “black ship” was allowed to dock when the United States forced Japan to end their 22-year policy of isolation and open to American trade. We didn’t pay for museum tickets but the situation felt easy to grasp. American gunboat diplomacy is a pillar of the empire.
Sweet treat tracker: black sesame soft-serve (ペリーさんの黒船家), strawberry milk (7-ELEVEN)
