I got yelled at this morning by a geezer from Japan who strode out of a bath to tell me I had no manners as I did not have a little towel to cover my “private parts.” I thanked him and told him he was, “very helpful,” and enjoyed at least my ironic contribution to the conversation. FYI: None of the young men in the bath had the little towels!
Can you guess why the geezer felt it was necessary to provide a lesson on polite behavior? Hint: He didn’t need a towel; a credit-card would do.
Meanwhile, on a positive note, yesterday was rather glorious in this remote mountain village inside the national park where bears roam without towels.
A walk beside a sulfurous valley of vents spewing steam and air that smelled of boiling eggs, then into a deciduous forest. Followed by lunch of soba. One with ebi tempura, and one with kamo. Cold beers, hot baths, long naps.
Kaiseki dinner with sake: Fish, vegetables, chicken, beef. Tiny, delicious portions.
Tried to make headway with Soseki, his novel, “The Gate,” and passed out.
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