Jim R.
Google
This isn’t your glossy, Caribbean-postcard kind of beach. It’s more like the introvert cousin who shows up to the family reunion in a black hoodie & quietly dunks on everyone. Overcast skies, grayish sand, gentle surf...and yet, somehow, it’s perfect.
Walking along the water, you get that rare sense of calm where you realize: “Oh, right. Life doesn’t always need to be optimized.” The waves roll in, the surfers roll off their boards & you’re reminded that failure can actually look graceful if you do it in neoprene.
The sand here has personality: dark streaks from the tide, starfish dropped like forgotten toys, patterns that look like nature’s doodles. It’s not “Instagram tropical”; it’s “geology class chic.” And that’s the charm.
Also, I love the narrative arc: one moment you’re passing through the thousand-year-old Ichi-no Torii, the ceremonial gate of samurai Japan. Keep walking, and boom! ...you’re standing in ankle-deep water watching teenagers argue over whose turn it is to carry the surfboard. It’s history, religion, and saltwater therapy bundled into a single stroll.
This place isn’t trying to seduce you with turquoise water. It’s saying, “Chill out, take off your shoes & stop pretending you’re not impressed by that kid who just faceplanted into a wave.”