In the midst of chatter, the phone rang. A voice on the other end informs our guest will arrive on time. Remarkably tall for a Maiko, her presence commanded our attention. Porcelain skin, graceful posture as if gliding. Toshinaho looked like a mysterious figure from a bygone era.
In a city where ancient whispers still resonate, I wonder if I manage to catch a glimpse of Kyoto’s enigmatic past?