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a freezing cold winter in Gunma-ken, 1996 cricket world cup about an hour north of Tokyo by bullet train, and then an hour's drive into the mountains. The 1996 cricket world cup in-laws-to-maybe-be love going to the very traditional Japanese hot spring baths, so off we go, after a couple of words of advice from my beloved. Off we go, that is, separately - her & putative mother-in-law, and me and PFIL, whose English isn't even as good as my Japanese. So - I manage to get butt naked in a room full of 1996 cricket world cup strange men, and to wash _before_ getting into the bath. All despite small Japanese boys who have apparently never seen a hajukin before, let alone a naked one, standing about ten inches from my wedding tackle gazing at me in wonderment (cue apology for length). And then PFIL just disappears into the crowd. Now, I'm a little short-sighted, and the idea of going up to within recognition distance of each of about a hundred naked men to see which one I know isn't exactly within my confort zone, so I spent what seemed like four hours in the shallow end, waiting for him to come and rescue me, or at least buy me a beer...Anyway,
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