Miles from Home

I found myself at Suma Beach one sunny afternoon, not for the usual seaside relaxation, but because I was craving a hot dog. In Japan, finding a good hot dog is like a treasure hunt, so when I heard there was a stand at Suma Beach, it was the perfect excuse to explore a new spot. Plus, now that I live in Kobe, I’m always on the lookout for new places to discover. It turned out to be a delightful adventure!

The first thing that struck me when I arrived was how close the train station was to the coastline. It instantly reminded me of the Enoden line running along the Kamakura and Enoshima area. That magical stretch where the train hugs the sea. Watching the waves so close form the window really got me excited about exploring the area.

In the distance, I heard seagulls quaking softly, that familiar, slightly raspy call, mixed with the gentle buzz of people chatting and laughing nearby. Surprisingly, there was no thunderous crashing of waves like I’m used to; the ocean was calm, almost quietly resting. The breeze was light, barely more than a whisper, unlike the strong winds back home in Yokosuka. It felt like the ocean was quietly breathing, inviting me to listen closely.

The air smelled unmistakably of the sea, but not the salty, bracing ocean I grew up with. This scent was softer, warmer– a mix of seaweed, salt, and sand, with a hint of fresh seawater. I suspect it’s because Suma Beach feels more like an inner sea, sheltered by Shikoku, so the water has a gentler character.

After spending a moment on the pier looking out toward the horizon, I decided it was time to find the hot dog stand that I came here for. To my delight, the hot dog stand called Copenhagen Suma Hot dog was just on the other side of the track. I walked with excitement– hot dogs are a rare treat in Japan.

The place itself was tiny, just four tables, but it felt like a charming blend of a classic American diner and Danish coziness, which makes sense given the name Copenhagen. The vibe was warm and inviting, like a little oasis of comfort food by the sea.

The owner, Hansen, greeted me with what locals call the “Hansen Smile”—a friendly, genuine grin that’s famous in the area. I ordered the Philadelphia dog, priced at 550 yen. The perfectly toasted bun and juicy sausage, topped with all the classic fixings, reminded me how a simple snack can carry a slice of home, even an ocean away.

I took my Philadelphia dog to go and wandered back to the beach, finding a quiet step by the shore. The breeze carried a mix of salt and sunscreen, the distant murmur of a public announcement, and windsurfers skimmed gracefully across the water. Unwrapping the hot dog, I took my first bite—the smoky, savory sausage nestled in a bun with actual character, not the squishy, flavorless kind I knew from the States. Tangy mustard, sweet caramelized onions, and crunchy relish melded together in each bite, a comforting yet exciting combination.

By the time I finished, the craving that brought me here had faded, replaced by a quiet satisfaction. Sometimes, a small discovery like this is all it takes to make a new place start feeling like home. You know, sometimes it’s just a simple hot dog that helps a new city feel a little less new.