atami
12.07.23 | 8:36 am
we slid the door open to find a small bar with five seats on the right. on the left were traditional tables with pillows on the floor for seats, with space to leave your shoes.
the bartender, whose long hair was held back beautifully in a long, curly ponytail, greeted us, and we took the two seats closest to the door. she handed us a hand-written menu, and we tried in vain to use our translation app to no avail. instead, we took the printed wine menu and figured out which glass we wanted.
we were already two glasses deep at this point, after visiting blue nine cafe, just behind our hotel. we had sat in the corner in spinny chairs, glasses of sauvignon blanc in hand, as we looked through a manga called sommelier.
we ordered more glasses of white wine as we listened to an older japanese woman at the end of the bar regale our bartender with what appeared to be an entertaining story, both of them laughing together.
the wine itself was delicious, but what was even better was the appetizer that came with it: japanese cucumbers with some sort of spicy pepper dip and a beautifully plated pile of tuna.
as we ate, another patron came in. she must have been in her late forties or her fifties. her long, black hair flowed straight down her back, part of it pulled into a clip at the back of her head. she ordered a glass of champagne before engaging in conversation with the other woman.
at some point in our conversation amongst just myself and seth, this woman turned to us and said, "oh, where are you from?" with a practically perfect accent. when we answered, she asked, "how did you find out about atami?"
realizing i had been reading the french memorabilia hung around the bar, she continued: "did you know that the owner of this bar studied in france?" the same was true for the previous bar. i had read the certificates hanging on the wall.
later, when seth asked for the check in japanese, she gushed: "oh! your japanese is absolutely perfect!" we laughed. everyone here, honestly that we met, was so incredibly nice.
"you know, it's actually my birthday today," she told us. i wanted so badly to ask her age, but didn't out of worry that it would be rude. we congratulated her, talked about how wonderful that is, and how wonderful this little seaside town is.
after finishing our second glasses and paying our bill, we stood to go.
"otanjōbiomedetō," i said, tipsy and too proud of myself. she clapped her hands, smiled so big, and said, "oh! thank you so so much!"
with that, we took our leave. we stopped by a 7-eleven to pick up two sour beers (mine flavored with orange) and headed to the beach.
we walked with the waves gently covering our feet, so much colder than we expected. at one point, my left foot fell literally one foot deep into the sand, the closest i suppose i'll ever come to quicksand. we laughed as i climbed back out, continued drinking our beverages as we walked.
when we headed back toward the stairs, there she was again, our new friend: "hello! are you having fun?" she asked. we talked briefly, both seth and i wishing we had more to ask her, before departing and heading our separate ways once again. "happy birthday!" i called after her.
we ended our night in an izakaya, drinking even more wine and eating several kinds of food on skewers. we retreated to our hotel, where we had a clear view of the sea, and i just felt so lucky.
so lucky to be there. so lucky to have this life that allows me to go places. so lucky to have people who want to go with me.
lucky, lucky, lucky.