Diane Joplin’s room at the Hakone Ryokan was spotlessly clean. She’d heard that the Japanese were sticklers for cleanliness but this was ridiculous. Every thirty minutes a sphere-shaped autonomous vacuum cleaner would spring to life and glide silently across the tatami mats. There was no way to switch off the cleaning robot, no buttons anywhere on its smooth plastic body. Diane lay on the room’s comfortable futon and watched the cleaner deftly negotiate her suitcase and the other items she had discarded on the floor. The vacuum finished its run and settled back in its corner, its amber standby light blinking intermittently. She’d taken a leisurely bath in hot water pumped in from the ryokan’s hot springs and considered her options. The De Witte woman had explained to her that she had to wash herself before getting in the bath and she had tried hard to see the logic of that but without much success.
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