After leaving that shrine, less than ten minutes later, I stumbled upon another wedding, beneath another large red parasol.
A few passersby, much like myself, had gathered around the bride and groom to take photos.
The professional photographer—a woman—began speaking loudly in Japanese, asking these people to leave.
I heard a few men behind me speaking French, and I immediately struck up a conversation.
They were friends of the groom—all Swiss.
As it happened, I had visited the French-speaking part of Switzerland six months earlier.
So I told them that I had just returned from Geneva, Lausanne, Chillon, and Nyon, and they were delighted.
My level of French didn't matter; I absolutely had to keep speaking it so that the photographer would believe I was one of the groom's guests.
I was so happy that I had the chance to take this photo.