Matcha Tiramisu at the “Big Mountain” Diary entry #9

I needed to see more green. Not “look out the train window and spot three trees” green. I mean real green. The kind of green that makes your eyes relax and your brain forget about emails, message notifications, and the gray walls of Tokyo. I also needed quiet. Not the “noise-cancelling headphones doing their best” kind of quiet, but the real kind, where you can’t hear cars or trains… just your own thoughts. Or, ideally, not even those.

Luckily, just two hours from Tokyo, such a place exists. Actually quite a few of these places exist.

But this one.. comes with dessert.

A Mission for Something Sweet and Scenic

For weeks, I had a café saved in my Google Maps “Want to Go” list: Teahouse Sekison (茶寮 石尊), a tiny mountaintop café on Mt. Ōyama (大山). Mt. Ōyama literally translates as“Big Mountain.” Subtle, right?

Ōyama is in Isehara, a quiet city in Kanagawa Prefecture best known for hiking, tofu cuisine, and a beautiful shrine called Ōyama Afuri Shrine (大山阿夫利神社). It’s also a popular pilgrimage site dating back to the Edo period.

But I was on a pilgrimage for.. matcha tiramisu.

I woke us early that day, wrapped up a few work tasks, grabbed my backpack, and hopped on the train around 11 AM. From Tokyo to Isehara it is about one hour - quick enough to go on a whim, but far enough to feel like you’re going somewhere meaningful.

At Isehara Station, you transfer to a bus that heads toward the Ōyama Cable Car. At first, quite a few people got on with me… but as the bus made its way up the mountain, with every stop, the group of passengers became smaller and smaller. By the time we reached the mountainside, it was basically me, one hiker, and a mother telling her child not to eat the bus seat.

The Stairs

Very important - when you get off at the “Ōyama Cable Car” bus stop, you are NOT at the cable car. You still have about 15-minute walk - depending on your tempo - and 362 stairs to climb.

But it’s a surprisingly fun walk!

Along the stairs you’ll find little quizzes and facts about Ōyama on the stairs. Things like:

• How tall is Mt. Ōyama? 1,252 meters!

• What’s another name for Mt. Ōyama? Amefuri-yama — “The Mountain Where It Rains.”

  
  

Fitting, because the low, gray clouds above looked like they were preparing to rain any minute now.

The path winds through charming little shops run by locals, selling pickles, handmade crafts, tofu snacks, and cute souvenirs. By the time you reach the cable car station, you are just the right amount of warmed up, in case you are planning to hike up the mountain. But that was not the plan for today.

Up the Mountain, Into the Clouds

The cable car runs every 20 minutes. I arrived just in time to miss one, so I waited while some hikers gathered at the entrance. The staff kept us entertained by pointing out a rare bug that looked like a dry leaf stuck to the wall - the children were delighted as he told them their teacher will praise them a lot if they bring a picture of it to class.

The cable car ride itself is very short but nicely scenic. As you go up, you can see a city in the distance and even higher you can even spot the ocean in the distance.

Once you step off the cable car, a few minutes on foot takes you to the the bottom of yet another staircase. But it is not only this last staircase before you reach the Oyama Afuri Shrine - a place with long history, crisp mountain air, and, of course the cafe which is our goal today.

Teahouse Sekison

Teahouse Sekison is perched on the mountainside like a little secret that only patient, stair-climbing travelers get to enjoy. It has both indoor seating and a terrace. Naturally, I chose the terrace, which also meant accepting my fate of waiting a little bit. The indoor seating looked lovely as well, but today, I came for the view!

I wrote my name on the list by the entrance and waited about 15 minutes before being called in. I left my backpack on my seat (the trust culture in Japan still amazes me every single time) and went inside to order.

Matcha tiramisu (obviously) and a Hojicha latte (also obviously). They handed me a wooden number tag so they’d know where to bring my deliciousness, and I settled into my terrace seat overlooking the mountains, the towns below, and even the ocean in the distance, with white clouds floating above everything. No sound of cars, no distractions, just peace. The dessert arrived and made the moment even sweeter.

When I finished, I noticed no one else was waiting in front of the café, so I decided to enjoy the mountain air a little longer. But I didn’t want to just sit there staring into the abyss (or worse, my phone), so I went back inside and ordered a local beer, which I sipped slowly while watching the scenery and jotting down some thoughts in my journal.

There are some cafés that feel almost too perfect to be real, the kind you’d swear only exist on Instagram. Teahouse Sekison is one of those places. But it is real… and magical.. and I hope to visit many more places like this during my life.

Prayers, Fortune, and Sacred Spring Water

After the café, I went to the shrine to do my omairi - give respects to the local deity. I threw in my 5 yen coin and followed the ritual: bow twice, clap twice, bow once. I also tried my luck with an omikuji, and... I got daikichi, the best fortune. It said: “Don’t rush it. Do what you can in your current situation.”Alright, universe, I hear you.

Just next to the shrine, I found a small entrance that looked like a cave. Inside was a stream of spring water called Gongen-sui (権現水) - sacred water believed to bring good health and protection. Naturally, I bought the 200-yen plastic bottle and filled it up like a responsible pilgrim. he path then led through a narrow, dim little tunnel lined with candles, and outside on

the side of the shrine.

This is also where you’d start the official hike up Mt. Ōyama. I didn’t tackle it this time (the round trip takes about 2.5 hours, and I definitely wanted to catch the last cable car), but I’ve done the hike once before and remember it being such a lovely, rewarding climb.

Heading Down as the Lights Turned On

As I began my descent, the sky started to darken. The lamps along the path flickered on one by one, creating a soft, magical glow that made the whole mountainside feel like it was preparing for a secret evening ceremony. While waiting for the cable car, I picked up a leaflet and learned that Ōyama hosts the Oyama Lantern Festival (大山阿夫利神社 万灯祭) in summer, where paper lanterns light up the shrine grounds. Needless to say, I immediately added it to my “must do someday” list.

Then it was just the cable car ride, the long staircase, the cozy little shops, the bus, the train, another train… and finally, back to Tokyo. I was a bit tired, but my mind felt completely refreshed. Visiting places like this - shrines or little cafés tucked into mountains and forests, where nature and people coexist so beautifully - always reminds me why I love Japan so much.

→See the Gallery from this trip←