American flag beach tarp

This weekend wasn't as busy as the last, thankfully. It's been nice to ease into things here rather than play it hard-and-fast all the time. Going back to last weekend, I was able to visit two beaches on the East coast of Japan. I was with two people from work and we met up with one of their (always helpful) fluent female friends. The four of us were having a good time chatting on the slower local trains that service the more out-of-the-way destinations, but we overshot our stop as a result. I really didn't mind so much, learning about Japanese driving schools is uniquely interesting (apparently the mandatory classes are expensive yet not extensive - mostly done on a closed course). While waiting for the next train in the other direction, we wandered around the quiet, little community near the station where the shops are open but unattended. Once you walk in and start browsing around, someone will poke their head in and ask if they can help. There wasn't much for us there and we were back on the train soon enough.

The first beach we met was a quick taxi ride away from Oohara station. To our surprise, it was packed with Japanese surfer-types: a breed I hadn't seen at all before. Most of them were sporting tattoos, even the women, which is so uncommon, our native said the inked beach-bums gave off a real frightening appearance. The relation is that yakuza (Japanese gangsters) normally fit themselves with full-body tattoos that are often completely hidden beneath long sleeves and pants, and tattoos have had a negative association in Japanese culture from long before. Now, though, it seemed pretty standard for anyone wishing to be a part of this subculture which spanned from surfing to dirt biking to skateboarding. In fact, the entire beach seemed dominated by this crowd for some sort of surfing competition that would later turn dance party.

We never stayed to watch it unfold. The surfers must have been disappointed because there was so little wave action it seemed like they were just kids in a pool floating around on foam body-boards. In addition, after swimming in the sea water for a bit, the skin near my elbow and knee joints became slightly red and irritated. At first, I thought this was due to my long time away from salt water and later wondered if it had to do with our proximity to the pollution of Tokyo Bay. Unlike the burning of salt water when it makes its way into your eye, this wasn't an expected sensation, so I decided to get out of there before turning into a walking rash. Not satisfied with our short-lived swimming session, we headed back to the station for another destination after a quick lunch and bathroom break. The hiyashi (seasonal food, cold noodles with hard-boiled eggs, cucumbers, ginger, etc.) was as delicious as I remember it and the public bathrooms just as disgusting.

The other town, Onjuku, was more of a tourist spot, but also boasted a better beach. The beautiful little town carved into the steep shore off in the distance was more appealing than the poured concrete flanking either end of the last place. The waves were not much better, but swimming was still enjoyable now that our bodies no longer felt as if they were slowly disintegrating. Here, you could rent inflatable dolphins or inner-tubes and while it may not have been the exact sea-side experience the others were hoping for, the atmosphere here seemed much more natural and fun. We were able to stick around until "closing" when (no surprise) music began playing and the beach patrol started to coax people back to land. It was great to get out and do something physical like swimming or hitting a volleyball around. The many hours it took to travel there and back weren't squandered like I might consider a commute to work by car; being in a train, you have the luxury of enjoying the scenery you pass through, conversing with your company, or - if you were as exhausted as I felt - simply sleeping.

Looking back, except for some minor subtleties, things at the beach were the same here as in the States. I think more people here were interested in eating/drinking. Many had tents and portable barbeque grills, while a another few were content to just sit with a group of friends around a cooler-full of cheap beer. In addition, there were restaurants eager to serve up and down the coastline just in case you hadn't brought anything. Beyond the realm of food (which is always of utmost importance in Japan), things seemed simple and natural in that most swimmers were content with just their bathing suits and weren't using snorkels, goggles, or even the rental offerings much. Less of the beaches were carved out specifically for sports, but a few people were kicking around a soccer ball in the sand behind the common seating.

My body suffered no long-term damage from the water, but did get two scoops of love from that ball of fire in the sky. With skin ranging from white to brown to red, I have become a giant walking slab of Neapolitan ice cream. No, you can't have a bite.