I’d heard about Enoshima before from Japanese nationals and foreigners alike. It was a popular place; good for seafood, good for surfing and good for just… hanging out, I guess. What more did I need to know? That was the day’s destination.

The journey there was, as most (Kanto region) train rides had come to be, rather uneventful. My friend and I sat when we could, speaking quietly and resting our eyes. Finally, over an hour later, we arrived at Katase-Enoshima Station and found ourselves almost right on the coast of Fujisawa, a mere stone’s throw from Sagami Bay and the island of Enoshima. However, it was the station we had just exited that first caught my eye. It was unique—like something out of a children’s storybook. Almost crudely simplistic in design, the entire structure was painted bright red with some small white panels. The roof was a pale aqua (or seafoam?) topped with bright yellow ridges that curled at the ends. Equal parts cute and kitsch.

Though it was late September, the hot sun, hazy air and high temperatures of summer remained unchanged. Being Silver Week (a small string of Japanese holidays), there were people scattered all about the primary-coloured edifice, still clad in their summer attire of shorts and sunglasses. Instead of immediately making our way to the island, we decided to stroll around Fujisawa first. We passed Enoshima Station, a quaint stop on the local Enoshima Dentetsu Line, or Enoden, train.

Shortly after, we came upon the entrance of a temple at the foot of a very green hill. Above, a golden spire peaked out of the tree tops. Intrigued, we wandered in. The temple, Motoyama Jakko-zan Ryuko-ji, which means ‘Dragon Mouth,’ is a Nichiren Buddhist place of worship. A pair of fearsome red deities guarded its entrance. The grounds were large. After climbing some steps within the surrounding trees, we came upon quite a sight. During my short six months in Japan, I’d never seen anything quite like it.

Erected there at the top of the forested hill was a very Asian, but decidedly un-Japanese stupa. An ornate golden spire sat atop a giant white dome housing a golden Buddha statue. Called Butsusharito in Japanese, these structures are apparently not entirely uncommon in Japan, but are relatively new constructions based on ancient Indian works.

Behind the stupa, a gap in the trees showed the coast of Fujisawa spread out below in the thick, grey haze. Nearby stood a chainlink fence, on which hung a miniature toy Enoden. An insignificant but neat detail.

By this time, our stomachs were rumbling in anticipation of Enoshima’s famed seafood and we decided it was time to head to the island. But we were met with crushing disappointment.

As I previously mentioned, it was Silver Week. And the island was not just busy, but unbelievably, overwhelmingly crowded. It seemed that every square meter of ground occupied by a sweaty human body. The steps leading up to Enoshima Shrine and the nearby observation deck were comparable to Shinjuku Station during rush hour. We wouldn’t be going that way any time soon.

Nonetheless, we pressed on. We searched, in vain, for a vacant table at almost a dozen seafood restaurants. We had come all the way to Enoshima and very much wanted Enoshima’s specialty, shirasu. We ended up eating curry, I think. At that point, I believe I was hungry enough not to care about whether or not I was consuming a local specialty. But damn, the temple was cool.