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About Kyoto

So I’m sippin my martini – “shaken, not stirred” – scopin the scene. This bird catches my eye, all sass and leather. I’m thinkin, “Is she the one?” Kinda like pickin a reagent for an experiment – gotta be precise. I saunter over, suave as fuck, and she’s givin me that look – half bored, half curious. “What’s a posh git like you want?” she says. I laugh – love the cheek! “Just a dance before the end,” I quip, noddin to *Melancholia*’s vibe. She rolls her eyes – fair enough.

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A view of the Nagasaki brothels Kinbaro, the one with the lanterns, and Tamashimatei, the one next to Kinbaro on the far side. These were just two of many brothels in Nagasaki’s Maruyama .

I wander over to the Glover Garden. It’s this old Western-style house, and I’m thinking, “What’s up with this place?” Turns out, it’s got some history. It was built by a British guy. I’m like, “Dude, you picked a sweet spot!” I’m wandering around, and I can’t help but feel a bit of that old-school charm.

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