Kamakura, an Ancient Capital – Milly’s Leisurely Exploration of Tokyo’s Suburbs

Text by Milly

 

Kamakura is a place perfect for strolling, ideal for slowing down the pace of travel. That’s why I chose to stay in Kamakura for three days and two nights, immersing myself in a more everyday rhythm. But I was hesitant at first—after all, I’ve always insisted Kamakura isn’t suitable for evenings, and that since it’s so close to Tokyo, a day trip would suffice.

 

This time, I wanted to “go against” my own usual thinking. Staying in Kamakura to explore it properly might just reveal a different side of the city. Traveling too much on autopilot can get dull—even your own firm beliefs can sometimes trap you in a “self-righteous” mindset.

Unless a hotel breakfast is particularly special, I usually don’t opt for one when making reservations—especially since I prefer eating breakfast at the pace of the locals.

 

At 6 a.m., through the window of my room on the 11th floor of the 8 hotel, I judged from the sky over Shonan Beach that it would be a fine day. Delighted, I headed out to Enoden Fujisawa Station, just a two-minute walk away, and boarded the 6:24 a.m. streetcar bound for Kamakura with some students.

 

I’ve always loved this slow-paced, seaside streetcar that weaves through residential neighborhoods.

 

I had originally planned to arrive at the café where I intended to have breakfast before it opened at seven. But as the streetcar approached my favorite stop along the Enoden line—Kamakura Daigaku-mae—I was captivated by the fresh, gentle morning light on the sea. I decided to get off and enjoy the early morning scenery for the 12 minutes before the next train arrived. After all, I wasn’t in a hurry. Right—I wasn’t in a hurry.

 

Soft light spilled onto the narrow, seaside platform, and a few other people waiting for the train seemed to be savoring this leisurely moment as well.

 

Soon, a few minutes before the train arrived, hurried men in suits stepped onto the otherwise empty platform. In an instant, I was pulled back to reality—yes, it was a weekday, and most people had to go to work. It should have been obvious. Yet, despite being so familiar with this streetcar platform, there was now an odd, slightly off vibe in the air.

That’s when I suddenly realized—it was a weekday, and very early in the morning. The tourists hadn’t arrived yet, and I was immersed in the daily life of the place. In such a moment, I was reminded once again of the luxurious definition of travel.

 

Luxurious travel is never just about staying at top-tier hotels or indulging in gourmet meals. Though staying at uniquely appealing accommodations remains a driving force for Milly’s travels—and sometimes I splurge with gusto to treat myself—the small luxuries of travel aren’t always measured in money. More luxurious than lavish comforts might be “time”—time untethered by schedules, time that flows freely, even wastefully. Doing nothing is fine, too. There doesn’t always have to be something you absolutely must do. Being able to live like that even while traveling—that’s just wonderful.

 

Speaking of luxurious travel, we also can’t overlook the idea of “revisiting.”

 

Including the years I lived in Tokyo, I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve been to Kamakura—different times, different seasons, different moods, different paces. In the rain, amid blooming hydrangeas, during the bustling New Year crowds. I’ve probably been to and fro Kamakura more than ten times. To revisit a place so often while traveling abroad—a historic city that blends leisure and tradition—how could that not be happiness? What else could it be?

After a delightful breakfast, my next goal for self-indulgence was naturally the café “Café Sakashita.” Featured in the Japanese drama “Last Love in Tokyo,” which is set in Kamakura, this café serves as the home and coffee shop of the male lead played by Nakai Kiichi.

 

After the drama aired, this café became a pilgrimage site for fans, alongside the old-fashioned “Rikkyaki” bakery and the Enoden “Gokurakuji Station.” Even on non-holidays, before the café opened at ten, there was already a line—Milly included—with two middle-aged women, a solo female traveler, and five overly cheerful high school girls waiting to get in.

 

Thanks to the drama’s popularity, the café felt almost like a tourist attraction, with excited groups of women pouring in every day. As soon as they entered, they’d squeal with delight and then snap photos without restraint—which was exactly what happened that day. The high school girls were bubbling with excitement upon entering, declaring everything cute. The subsequent customers also treated the place like a sightseeing spot, taking photos everywhere. Guilty as charged—Milly was part of the photo-taking crowd, too.

 

This was completely unlike the café’s original atmosphere, and not something you’d see in any other café. I could understand the staff’s irritation, but perhaps when they lent the space for the drama shoot, they should have expected this kind of attention to continue for a while. Of course, guests should also exercise some self-restraint.

 

Setting aside the somewhat startling atmosphere, the café itself still has a nice vibe. The exterior is a white-walled Western-style house, but the interior has a distinct Japanese feel, with elements like a nuki transom and ranma wooden panels. Yet the sofas, furniture, and decor also carry a “free-spirited hippie style,” “Nordic design vibe,” and “nostalgic Showa-era charm.” Strangely, these incongruous elements blend harmoniously in the same space, creating a comfortable feel. The owner had originally just wanted a renovated traditional Japanese home to live in but ended up opening this café along the way. Perhaps visiting after the craze dies down might allow one to better appreciate the café’s original charm.

I only ordered a ginger ale. Having just eaten breakfast, I didn’t have much of an appetite for the popular pancakes. While sipping the ginger ale, my gaze wandered around the space, trying to match scenes from the drama. But later, I found out the drama wasn’t actually filmed here—the production team had referenced the café’s atmosphere and décor to build an almost identical replica of the in-show “Café & Restaurant Saint Esprit.”