Not in an “oooh I’m sexy” kind of way, more like a “my boxers are stuck to my ass” kind of way. Now that summer has kicked in it doesn’t drop below 30, and it hit 36 last week when I was teaching in the molten depths of Chiba. (It was actually about 45 degrees when we got a lift back to the station from the Encho Sensei in a minivan that smelled like wet dog but that’s another story.)

When I first arrived in Tokyo I had no idea there was such a beach culture here in the summer. I didn’t even know there were beaches. Granted, the tourist boards of Borneo and Tahiti have nothing to worry about: the beaches here are good, but they’re not pristine. However, the coastline is always a welcome escape from the mentalness of the city – and if mentalness is your thing, there are plenty of beaches to cater for that too. (My friend Vivian actually just wrote about the differences between some of the beaches here. Read it with your brain.)

I’m off for two weeks soon enough – and apart from a random trip to Taiwan to sadistically eat myself to death via dumplings I have no solid plans. I went to Hayama last week with a load of people, and I think I’ll be back. Beach days featuring sun, beer and absinthe cocktails are fun – even if you do get sand in your bento.





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