Head hunting

Mme Chendolle has not truly applied herself to the task of finding a suitable assistant for Sebastien.

It's not that she isn't taking this assistant search  very seriously but there have been a number of distractions along the way today; sight seeing has been her number one priority starting at 8 am when she sat waiting in the opulent lobby of the Hotel New Miyako with its shiny expanse of marble floor and the understated elegance of the reception surrounds.

Following that was her first journey on the Nozomi, the sleek white train that flashed along the tracks at just under 300 kph on its way to Hiroshima.  Then a ferry ride across the water to the island of Miyajima, which as everyone who knows anything about the islands of Japan, is really the island of Itsukashima and home to the splendid Itsukushima Shinto Shrine of world renown.

It was on the island of Miyajima that Mme came closest to appointing a side kick for Sebastien but after much thought decided that a deer with big brown eyes, antlers and and not much else was not going to be acceptable; even if it could sit, though not in the strictly normal sense of the word.

While some little Japanese boy or girl might find the deer a cuddly, lovable toy to carry around, there is something grotesque about a creature which is more or less a decapitated head and both Sebastien and the unbelievably vain Princess Agnes might balk at the idea  of sharing space with someone who might be seen as an example of what might come their way if they didn't take good care.

Mme placed the lovely soft brown head with its big round eyes and beautiful antlers back on the shelf with its friends, went out into the street and was then seen disappearing into a cafe which specialised in okonomiyaki, made Hiroshima-style.

After arriving back in Hiroshima, seriously heavy rain began to fall; Mme's camera, which had been behaving erratically threw its last tantrum and quit being the faithful photo maker.   All these less than desirable events threw  Mme right off track and all thoughts of an assistant for Sebastien vanished into thin, blue air.

Ah well, there's always tomorrow.