i've become an old man, someone says. the final verse speaks to me.
i've become an old woman too, then. 'tis been these two verses for me. my voice is poor the melody does not hold and my poor tongue lisps. one day it shall be a nobler and sweeter song but it shall tell yet of the fountain that washed my sins away.
when a place is famed for the busyness of its pedestrian crossings it stands to reason the cafes in the area will be overflowing onto the street. and the line for the loo will double back on itself in the anteroom to the loo. we ought to have remembered that.
glad we did it together: going astray and hustling back and getting hungry and finding food and coffee and skipping the same options and sharing the same priorities including onsen dips. thank you, friends.