The bamboo bridge was looking so fragile that I was afraid of stepping over. My boss, a small Japanese man, was walking confidently, with soft naked steps, through his bridge to the right, without looking back. After a moment of hesitation I did the same. The path to the first island was a hundred meters long. Due to hot fumes and vegetation close to the shore, I was not able to see if my destination was populated or not. Also the size of it was not clear. Beyond it, I distinguished another island, with one or two palm trees. I looked to the dark water under the bridge. Something was creating waves. Where there carps? In a previous visit to a Japanese garden, I saw the size those animals can reach, and the memory made me feel uneasy about mixing with the visitors of the facility. But maybe I was being naive. Maybe there was some kind of fence underwater, that was not letting the fishes go into the bath area.
Suddenly I was there. I hesitated. The sand of the shore was slightly warm, as if heated from below. The plants on both sides, some kind of leafy bamboo trees, were perfectly cut to reach the height of my waist. Should I get rid of the yukata? There was nobody around to ask, so I voted against. Doubtful, I crossed the vegetation to reach the heart of the island and looked around. She was in a little clearance to my left, another fifty meters away or so, laying naked.