certainly a pain (I know you did most of the work, for which I’m grateful; still, it’s a pain), but once you’re all moved in it’s pretty nice. There’re
no roosters crowing in my new place, as in
Kichijoji, instead a lot of crows making a racket like some old wailing women. At dawn flocks of
them assemble in Yoyogi Park, and make such a ruckus you’d think the world was about to end. No need for an alarm clock, since the racket always wakes me up. Thanks to which I’m now
like you, living an early-to-bed-early-to-rise
farmer’s lifestyle. I’m beginning to understand how it feels to have someone call you at 3.30 in the morning.
hurriedly put me back together again. That sort of
feeling. Can you understand what I’m getting at?
My eyes tell me I’m the same old me, but
something’s
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stepped off the plane I can’t shake this very real,
deconstructive illusion.
Sitting here, asking myself, “Why am I in Rome
of all places?” everything around me starts to look unreal. Of course if I trace the details of how I got here I can come up with an explanation, but
on a gut level I’m still not convinced. The me sitting here and the image of me I have are out of
sync. To put it another way, I don’t particularly
There’s one thing I
me, I’m lonely being so far away from you. If we
were even farther apart, I know I’d feel even more
lonely. I’d like to think you feel the same way.
So anyway, here Miu and I are, traipsing around
Europe. She had some business to take care of and was planning originally to go around Italy and France by herself for two weeks, but asked me to come along as her personal secretary. She just blurted this out one morning, took me
completely by surprise. My title might be
“personal secretary”, but I don’t think I’m much use to her; still, the experience will do me good, and Miu tells me the trip’s her present to me for
stopping smoking. So all the agony I went
through paid off in the end.
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We landed first in Milan, went sightseeing, then
rented a blue Alfa Romeo and headed south on the autostrada. We went around a few vineyards
in Tuscany, and after taking care of business stayed a few nights in a charming little hotel, and
then arrived in Rome. Business is always
conducted in either English or French, so I don’t have much of a role to play, though my Italian has come in handy in day-to-day things as we travel. If we went to Spain (which unfortunately won’t happen on this trip), I might be of more use
to Miu.
The Alfa Romeo we rented was a manual drive, so I was no help at all. Miu did all the driving. She can drive for hours and never seems to mind.
Tuscany is all hills and curves, and it was
amazing how smoothly she shifted gears up and down; watching her made me (and I’m not joking
here) shiver all over. Being away from Japan, and
simply being by her side are quite enough to satisfy me. If only we could stay this way for ever. Next time I’ll write about all the wonderful
meals and wine we’ve had in Italy; it’d take too much time to do so now. In Milan we walked
from store to store shopping. Dresses, shoes,
underwear. Other than some pyjamas (I’d
forgotten to take mine), I didn’t buy anything. I didn’t have much money, and besides there were
so many beautiful things I had no idea where to start. That’s the situation where my sense of
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judgement blows a fuse. Just being with Miu as she shopped was sufficient. She’s an absolute
master shopper, choosing only the most exquisite
things, and buying only a select few. Like taking a
bite of the tastiest part of a dish. Very smart and
charming. When I watched her select some
expensive silk stockings and underwear I found it
hard to breathe. Drops of sweat bubbled up on my forehead. Which is pretty strange when you think about it. I’m a girl, after all. I guess that’s enough about shopping—writing about all that as
well will make this too long.
