#And we drink tea sitting on our porch at the top of the hill

[localclownbaby]

I love daydreaming so much

I'm not even here baby I am God who lives in the world she created

it very nice and I only I have it

sucks to suck 🤭

[celosiaa]

you’ve begun to feel like home

Summary: “Though it’s true that they’ve both recently been quite ill, Jon has been fully recovered for days and is ready to stretch his legs, which have grown sore with disuse over the past week or so. Martin, on the other hand… Got to be careful, Jon thinks, grabbing Martin’s inhaler from where it sits on the coffee table.”

Martin is recovering from pneumonia, and they decide to take a walk.

(missing scene from "steady, love," but can stand alone)

CW: illness, coughing.

just a quick lil Marto sickfic that I couldn’t get out of my head! please enjoy <3

“Hold on a minute, Jon, you can’t just go wandering around in the cold without a hat and a scarf,” Martin shouts adamantly from the next room, rummaging through the closets as Jon rolls his eyes impatiently.

Course he would be fussing over me.

Though it’s true that they’ve both recently been quite ill, Jon has been fully recovered for days and is ready to stretch his legs, which have grown sore with disuse over the past week or so. Martin, on the other hand…

Got to be careful, Jon thinks, grabbing Martin’s inhaler from where it sits on the coffee table. While his own illness had been relatively minor, Martin’s had turned into pneumonia—and though he says very little about it these days, Jon knows that he’s definitely still in the throes of recovery. That being said, his fever has been gone for some time now, and he’s been coughing less and less, so Jon feels a bit more comfortable bringing him along on a short walk today.

Poor Martin has been cooped up for what seems like ages now, and predictably jumped at the chance to get out for a bit. Though of course, not without some degree of worry over Jon.

“Here,” he says, appearing from the other room with his hand outstretched, offering Jon what might just be the ugliest hat he’s ever seen.

Eying the gaudy orange pompom sticking out from the top, a small noise of petulance escapes from the back of Jon’s throat.

“Put it on, and I don’t want to hear another word about it,” Martin demands, staring Jon down the bridge of his nose like a disapproving teacher.

“Fine, fine,” Jon gives in, throwing his hands up dramatically before snatching the hat from him. “Bossy.”

Pulling his own hat over his ears, Martin quirks up a little lopsided grin, which Jon returns easily—the knot in his chest untwisting just a bit in response. Some days—though it’s been weeks since he’s left the Lonely—it can still be a struggle to bring a smile to Martin’s face, especially since he’s been feeling so poorly.

God, I never want to stop looking at him.

“Alright, then,” Martin says, still grinning a bit as he turns to look toward the coffee table. “Have you got—”

“Yes, I’ve got it,” Jon says, patting his jacket pocket which holds the inhaler and a pack of tissues for good measure.

“Right. We’re off, then,” Martin replies, taking Jon’s hand and leading them out the door.

---

The moment the door shuts behind them, Jon is convinced that this was a mistake. It’s cold today—proper cold, and windy enough to bite at his skin, even through all the layers Martin’s got him bundled up in. Nose immediately starting to run at the sting of it, Jon sniffles as he glances up at Martin, who looks just about as hesitant as he feels.

“Do you still want to go?” Jon asks softly, squeezing his hand to let him know that yes, it’s alright if you say no.

“Erm—maybe not down the hill,” Martin replies, hanging his head a bit. “Not sure I want to climb back up.”

Jon wishes more than anything that he could take away the shame that Martin still feels about this. Though they’ve talked through it many times over the past few weeks, it’s a shadow that Martin has lived under for so long now that it will undoubtedly take some time to shake.

“That’s alright,” Jon assures at once, bring their hands up to kiss the back of Martin’s palm. “It’s alright, darling. Let’s just go back through the garden, then.”

Stepping off the porch, Jon leads them to the other side of their little home, which offers a much flatter patch of grass dotted with trees leading down to the bank of a small stream. Although there is no path here, the ground is even enough, and they set off at a leisurely pace toward the pleasant sound of water bubbling over the rocks.

I could get used to this, Jon thinks dimly, smiling a bit to himself as he considers their surroundings.

Martin’s hand in mine, no Institute, no statements…just us and the warmth of our fireplace.

After a mere few minutes of walking, however, their pace begins to slow considerably—Martin fringe hanging over his eyes as he tips his head down against the wind. With a start, Jon takes notice of his breaths—coming in heavy, wet-sounding gasps now, as a hand reaches up to press against his chest.

“Jon, I—” he cuts off at once to gasp, stopping in his tracks as he doubles over, slipping his hand from Jon’s to brace against his knees.

“Are you alright?” Jon asks gently, alarm spiking through his mind as he begins rubbing gentle circles over Martin’s back.

Unsurprisingly, Martin nods his reply, even as he begins to cough—deeper and more painful than any Jon has heard in a while.

“Oh god—”

Feeling the weight of his own helplessness, Jon can only continue rubbing his back, resting his other hand over his shoulder. Martin’s scarf blows wild in the wind as he continues hacking for nearly half a minute, chest heaving with effort even after the fit has finally come to an end.

“Do you need the inhaler?” Jon asks quietly, hand already reaching in his pocket.

“No, I’m—I’m okay, I’m alright,” Martin says breathlessly, lifting himself slowly back to his full height. “I’m alright. Do you want to keep going?”

The look Jon gives him now is one of shocked incredulity.

“Do I—wh—no, Martin, of course not!” he sputters, reaching a hand up to check Martin’s brow for fever. “We’re turning around this instant.”

Martin hangs his head yet again, eyes squeezing closed as Jon takes his hand to lead him back to the cottage—feeling the embarrassment and shame roll from him in billows. Sensing his apology on the horizon, Jon jumps to cut him off at the pass.

“It’s alright, love,” he murmurs, draping an arm across his waist in support. “Don’t worry about it. Just take it slow, and I’ll match you, alright?”

Nodding miserably, Martin keeps his head down as they trudge back through the grass, slowing their pace more and more with each minute that passes. They’re nearly there, the warmth of the light they’d left on inside beckons Jon from the window, promising rest and comfort—

But Martin stops dead in his tracks at the far corner of the house, doubled over again with such deep, rattling hacks that Jon can feel the pain rise in his own chest.

“Oh, darling—”

He rubs at Martin’s back again, this time keeping his arms draped around his waist for support. To his dismay, the coughing does not seem to want to stop, merely growing shallower and more rapid with each moment that passes.

“Here, Martin, the inhaler—”

Jon fumbles through his pocket to hand it to him—though Martin’s hands shake so badly that Jon keeps his own firmly wrapped around it. Expelling as much air as possible from his battered lungs, he takes a deep draw from the inhaler, holding his breath for as long as he can stand before the coughing starts again—once again deep and wet and heavy.

The fact that Jon is relieved by this says quite a lot about the state of things.

“There you are, you’re alright, you’re alright love,” he soothes, handing him a tissue and resuming the gentle circles on Martin’s back until he manages to get something up.

“M’sorry,” Martin mutters when it’s all said and done, breaths slowing at last as he straightens back up.

“Don’t,” Jon replies at once. “Don’t apologize. Let’s just get you back inside.”

---

Thirty minutes later and Martin is back in their bed, coughing exhaustedly into a tissue as Jon reenters the room, two steaming cups of tea in his hand.

“God, sorry,” he mumbles reflexively, nose wrinkling in disgust as he tosses the tissue away and accepts the mug from Jon.

“What did we say about apologies, sweetheart?” Jon reminds gently, perching on the edge of the bed and running a hand up and down Martin’s forearm.

“Right, s—I mean, right,” he says quietly, taking a cautious sip of his tea.

As he does so, Jon reaches up a hand to press against his brow, sweeping his overgrown fringe out of the way as he does so.

“No fever,” he reports, relieved. “So it was just the cold that got to you then.”

“Must have been,” Martin replies, drinking deeper from his mug this time, pulling a smile onto Jon’s face.

Must have gotten it right at last.

Patting his arm, Jon moves to standing, leg aching a bit with the sudden change in weather.

“Do you want to take a nap? I can go back downstairs, if—”

“No, I—well I do want to nap, but…you can, um. Stay here. If you want to, I mean,” Martin stammers nervously, the tips of his ears flushing as he does so.

I want nothing more.

“Of course,” Jon murmurs, walking around to the other side of the bed at once.

As soon as he climbs beneath the blanket, Martin shifts—head coming to rest against Jon’s shoulder with a sigh, which turns quickly into a few coughs, stifled quickly behind closed lips.

“Alright?” Jon asks at once, carding a hand through Martin’s wind-blown locks.

At this, Martin lifts his head slightly, turning to meet Jon’s worried gaze with warm hazel eyes.

“How could I not be?” he smiles, stretching up to press a kiss against Jon’s cheek, lips warmed by the steaming tea.

God, I love him.

Face melting into a smile, Jon wraps his arms gently around him—and they spend the afternoon in the quiet, drawing the cold from each other’s bones.

[the-writing-rat]

Rats Short Stories (2)  Sea Weathered Spirits

synopsis: a curious store clerk follows a peculiar customer and learns about the past of his hometown, and the reason for the customers mysterious shopping habits 

story under the break

I was restocking the shelves when I saw him. The old man that lives on the hill between the docks. I don't know why we call him that, and not just "the hermit" after all, that's what he is. He stays in that old house on top of that hill except for once a month when he walks down the hill, comes to this shop, and buys a barrel of rum, a tin of tea, and a sack of sugar. I don't know what he does with them every month, as that's a lot of everything for just one month's supply. Unless he spends all day drunk and then drinking tea with lots of sugar every day. I know I'd have to be drunk all the time to live at the top of that hill never seeing anyone except for once a month. He never speaks to anyone either, to think of it, I don't think I've ever heard him speak. Not even to order his things. The shop owner just sets aside his things every time we get a shipment in, so we always have it ready for him. I opened the door as he walked up, he nodded to me. Then he set the money on the counter, I don't bother to count it anymore, it's always the exact amount, no more no less. I handed him his things and then he left. But then I did something I've never done before. I followed him. 

"Sir! Sir!" I shouted after him. 

The old man turned to me, a confused look on his face. 

"Can I help you carry your things?"

The old man shrugged the barrel of rum to the ground and gestured to it.

I hoisted it off the ground and struggled to get it onto my back the way the old man carried it. Once I got it I followed the old man's lead up the hill, leaving the tiered streets of the little coastal town behind us and onto a well-worn dirt path that meandered up the side of the hill. Once the ships in the harbor were tiny specks in the distance, the old man spoke for the first time. His voice was deep and rough, like an old tree. 

"Thank you for helping me. These old bones aren't built for this anymore." 

"No problem sir"

"Though I suspect you didn't only want to help me" 

"No ulterior motives here sir." 

And at that moment, the road came to an end and the man's house revealed itself. It was small, old, and surprisingly sturdy looking. 

"There" the old man pointed over my shoulder and I turned to see the edge of the hill. And below, I could see everything. To the left, the town, the harbor, and to the right, the old town, and the small docks floating in the water. It was two separate worlds, connected by a shared shore and the vast ocean that stretched as far as the eye can see. 

"I can't believe I've never seen this before" I muttered. 

"It sure is a sight," the old man said. He pulled a chair from his porch and set it next to me. He took a seat, and his intelligent eyes reflected the sun in the distance with a gleam of nostalgia. 

"Shall we...crack open your barrel of rum?" I asked, unsure of what to do now that I was up here. 

"Oh no, that's not for me. I don't drink." The old man replied. It was my turn to look puzzled. 

"You buy a barrel of rum every month, and you don't drink?" 

"No, I haven't drunk a drop of liquor since I was 17" 

"If you don't mind me asking, then who's it for? The rum. I know no one else ever comes up here." 

"Well, it's for- no it's better to not worry your young mind with such things" 

"No, please, sir, tell me" 

"If I tell you, do you swear not to tell another soul?"

"...yes sir" 

"Well then. Let me take you back to when I was a young boy of 16. When I was young we lived right down there" he pointed to the ruins of the old town to our right. "All the boys around my age, save for Arthur Chaff, were in my band of friends. Arthur was rude and believed he was better than everyone, so we didn't associate with him. But that's unimportant. What was important was my friend Phillip. The thing about Philip is he inherited his father's ship when his father died. We were 14 when Phillips's father passed, but when we were 16 Phillip finally got the courage to step onto the ship for the first time. All of my friends were excited to climb the rigging and unfurl the sails, all but me of course. See, I've always had a fear of the sea. The shallows are fine, but out there, on the open ocean, nothing to tether you but the planks of wood beneath your feet? That's something that frightens me more than anything. And it's that fear that kept me from going that day and resigned me to my fate of buying those supplies every month." 

"What happened?" 

"Hush, I'm getting there. One day, Phillip and my friends decided they were going to take that ship, and go whale catching. The lot of them decided that they were going to be whalers. 'We're going to catch a whale' Phillip told me one day. 'We'll be back in a month for more supplies, or with a whale in tow. We're counting on you to get us our supplies when we get back' and they left. But that day, that cursed day, a storm rolled in, and it destroyed everything. That's the reason the town moved, you know?  Because of the storm. When Phillip and my friends left the harbor, it was just barely raining, you'd get a stronger rain from a watering can. But as I climbed the hill to watch my friends sail away, the sky got darker, and the rain got heavier so that by the time I reached this very ridge, my clothes were soaked and I was more digging through the mud than climbing. So I did what any young, wet lad would do, I went inside. I was in the middle of changing my clothes when there came a knock on my door. It was my neighbor from down the hill and all of her children. 'Help us' she said. 'The wind, the rain, it's tearing the town apart' and with a glance out my window, I confirmed her story to be true. The waves were the tallest I've ever seen, and the wind was blowing the trees sideways. I let her and her children in, and every other townsperson who made their way to my door. At the height of the storm, there was nowhere to sit in the entire house, not even the floor. There were people from the cellar to the top floor of the house. And the storm stayed for days, the wind shaking the walls of the house, the rain finding any crack in the walls or ceiling it could. And when it was over, the people were left to find what was left of their belongings, and to bury what dead we could find. We didn't let the children near the shore for a long while after that, for fear that one of them could find a body. I wasn't sure that my friends had made it out of the storm in time or not, but they returned in a month, so I assumed they did. I brought them their sugar, and tea, and rum, they asked me if I wanted to join them, I declined, and they left again. The problem with that was the next week, I received a letter from Phillips mother's sister, who lived on an island 2 weeks journey from here. She said that Phillips ship and all of my friends washed up on the shore after the storm, only identifiable by the little book Phillip kept in his jacket, with all of his logs in it. The book I gave him as a gift the day he decided to step onto that boat. She was writing me to ask if I would find the other boys' mothers and tell them about their sons, and to ask whether to bury their bodies for us or if we would like for her to send them here. So I did my duty, and informed each of their mothers, save for Phillip's, as she had perished in the storm as well. They lived right at the shore, so I imagine she was one of the first to go. Once all the mothers were told, I wrote her back, and picked up a bottle for the first time. Stricken with grief over the death of my friends, I drunk like a fish. While the rest of the town was busy rebuilding, I was busy drinking myself into a stupor. And my problem got worse when they returned. Yes, the ship, and all my friends, alive and well, asking for their supplies. I tried to ignore them, but they wouldn't go away. They called for me again and again, for days, until I gave in. I brought them their supplies, they asked if I would like to join them, and when I declined, they left. At first, I was rejoicing! I was so happy I went around telling everyone that they didn't die, and I had just seen them, but no one listens to the mumblings of an unbathed drunkard, especially when they're busy grieving and rebuilding. And they returned the next month, and the month after that, and the one after that. Every month they returned and every month my drinking got worse. It was only when I realized that the entire town had moved, that I stopped drinking. I swore off the liquor, and only bought the barrel of rum to give to my friends. But at that point my image, the town's opinion of me was so tarnished, it made it impossible to walk through the streets of the new town without getting stares and mumbled judgement. At that point I was at my lowest. I was without my vice, and without my community. Things were difficult. And it was at that point, an unexpected hand reached to me. None other than Arthur Chaff, that rude boy from my youth, came to help pull me out of the hole I was stuck in. Apparently, that storm changed him, and he made a little shop to sell groceries and supplies to sailors. He listened to me, and most importantly, he believed me. And he helped me out. He set aside my supplies so I would have them every time Phillip returned, and to his death, he was a great friend. His family wouldn't let me at his funeral, but his son, who inherited the shop from him 5 years ago, told me he would still help me the way his father did, even if he didn't quite understand it. And so once a month, I make my way into town, I get Phillips crew their supplies, and I leave." 

"...when does Phillip's crew arrive?" I asked, speaking for the first time in hours. 

"Phillip should be arriving tonight, and this time, I think I will change my answer to his question, and really see if the ocean is something I should be afraid of." The old man smiled and returned his gaze to the horizon.

[imnotwolverine]

The girl next door - For dummies

The Girl Next Door - Chapter 5 FOR DUMMIES*

<Chap 4 | Chap 6>

Summary: Henry decides to treat Lizz to an evening of home spa, but neither one of the two are clear on what should happen next. Are they still just friends? 

Word count: 2.439

Warnings: strong language, fluff, touch of (dubious consensual) smut, alcohol use

Author’s note: And another! I really don’t think I’ll ever write THIS much in so few days, but once you’re on a roll..you best just keep going, right? So here goes another chapter. Enjoy it while another very sweaty, sweaty night is here to greet us ;) 

(Link to my Masterlist)

Lizz quietly gazed at the woodgrain texture of the garden table, her lips hovering over her cup of tea. She was lost in thought, blowing wistfully over the liquid that sure had gone lukewarm or even cold by now, her big brown eyes seemingly on “stand-by”.  

‘Are you still going to drink that?’ Henry’s question lingered in the air as he studied the pensive red head that sat next to him. As per usual she sat on her chair and he on his - the poor chair holding on for dear life as Henry was anything but a small man. Not so usual was the placement of Henry’s chair, which was seated much more closely to Lizz’s then it had been a few weeks ago. First Henry sat at the far end of the garden table, but now he sat so very close to Lizz’s spot that their knees were close to touching.

A lot had happened in these few weeks and let’s just say that the two of them had broken the Corona protocol so many times by now - be it consciously or unconsciously - that they had simply given up on even trying to keep up good appearances.

Lizz finally woke up from her death stare, looking up to her side and meeting Henry’s eyes, her shoulders shrugging with an indifference. ‘Iced tea is nice too.’

Henry chuckled, shaking his head and leaning over to take the cup from her, putting it back on the table. ‘I have the feeling you could use a well-deserved…break.’ He said, nodding at the house.

The once ruin of a building was now slowly being whipped back into shape by the fearless redhead. The roof and water boiler had finally been fixed, a large part of the front yard was made more presentable and this week she had started sanding down and repairing the woodwork of the doors and windows. Which, honestly, was one hell of a job when it’s hot out and you’re all alone. But that couldn’t stop Lizz from trying, her energy endless as she fought her way through years and years of decay.

The only real breaks she took were her morning runs and tea breaks with Henry. And that wasn’t because she chose to. He simply insisted on it -  one couldn’t possibly resist him when he used his very convincing puppy eyes - and Lizz cracked every single time. And so, once more, they sat here, in Lizz’s front yard. His tea now finished and hers practically gone cold.

‘A break? We literally are just finishing our break, Mr. Cavill.’ She snickered, giving him a teasing poke.

‘No. I mean. Longer than ten minutes of sipping on some tea. A REAL break. How about you come over tonight and I’ll surprise you? Hmm?’

Lizz guessed he just meant this in a friendly manner, but still her heart skipped a beat as Henry offered her one of his million dollar smiles. This man was criminally handsome. Gosh, she just couldn’t ever say “no” to him, could she?

‘Fine.’ She agreed.

‘Be there at 6 o’clock. I’m cooking.’ He said simply, getting up from his chair - the frame wobbling dangerously - and laying his hand on her shoulder. She looked up when he didn’t move his hand. ‘What?’

‘Okay?’

‘Yea yea. I’ll be there. I’m not one for being late..or breaking promises.’

‘Good, because neither am I.’ He winked, brushing his thumb over her cheek and tsk’ing to alarm Kal that they were about to leave.

Even long after Henry left, Lizz felt the slight blush on her cheek where Henry had rubbed his thumb. Was she misreading the signals? Did he like her? Or was he just being friendly? Or ..was there something on her cheek? Quickly she brushed the back of her hand against her cheek, looking at it. No. Nothing there. Hmm.

‘Gods Henry. It smells way too good in here.’

‘Thank my mom for that. She taught me a few tricks.’ He winked, moving around the kitchen while wearing a much too dainty apron. If people said only real men wear pink… Then perhaps they could add; only real men wear kitchen aprons. Gods he looked like a SNACK, Lizz all but drooled, her sundress-clad body leaning against one of the counter tops as she sipped on some red wine.

‘Well you are literally the only man I know who is this comfortable with cooking.’ Lizz smiled, her cheeks slightly flushing as Henry brushed passed her to grab something from the drawer next to her knee.

‘Good.’ He stated simply, rising back up to full height and hovering mere inches away from her face, smiling broadly before moving back to the stove and using a fork to stab some of the vegetables that lay in the oven.

‘Well good lady. Looks like dinner is ready. If you’d please escort your pretty behind to the dining table, we can feast!’ He smiled, gesturing Lizz to move.

‘Can I help?’ Lizz tried, full knowing the answer; “NO”. Or better yet: Please woman, just do as I requested and leave the kitchen.

‘Lizz…please.’ Henry shushed her away, smiling from ear to ear.

Getting into the living room she finally got WHY he had shushed her away. Do friends do…this? Her eyes skid over the neatly laid out table - table cloth, glasses, cutlery, kerchiefs all set - with a few candles burning a soft woodsy scent.

Somewhat unsure of the very intent of this dinner, Lizz sat down on one of the chairs, offering her a good line of vision on the hallway. After a few minutes Henry appeared, proudly carrying two very meticulously made up plates of food.

‘Steamed fish, roast vegetables with a fresh lemon-dill sauce and new potatoes, baked in their skin. Simple, yet delicious.’ He nodded, placing the plates on the table. Lizz applauded, her lips turning in a giddy smile as Henry removed his apron and also sat down. ‘I don’t know why I deserved this, but, I’m glad I did. This looks amazing Hen. Thank you.’ She cooed.

‘Well, it’s just part of the ..surprise. I was actually thinking we could have a little..in-house..spa evening.’ He rose his eyebrows and let the words slowly roll off his tongue, like he were tasting them one by one.

’Spa night? Really?’ Lizz giggled, shaking her head. ‘My..Henry. Who are you? And what are you? I doubt you are even a human male. It just can’t be.’

‘Well, some call me superman. Or Kal. Kal-el.’

At the word “Kal”, the large like-named dog came trodding into the living room - he had been chilling outside on the porch -, his face speaking of slight confusion. Did you call me, human? KAL?

Henry snickered, looking over his shoulder and gesturing Kal to come over for a scratch, to which the Akita gladly obliged. ‘And then there’s of course THIS Kal.’

‘Both good boys.’ Lizz nodded, laughing.

With the end of spring bringing them a particularly gentle night, the two of them had moved to Henry’s patio. Laughing and talking, they had made themselves comfortable on his outdoor lounge sofa, faces fresh after a face mask and their hands plucking at strawberries with whipped cream. For someone who had only brothers, Henry was particularly comfortable with indulging on things that were generally considered “feminine”. He even made a very poor attempt at helping Lizz file her toe nails, which made her roll with laughter - he had many talents but that certainly wasn’t one of them.

‘Luis would have NEVER done that.’ She said, her laughter quick to die down. Even after all this time, Luis held a strong hold on her heart. It seemed like she simply couldn’t will herself to forget about her manipulative, selfish ex. And of course it hadn’t helped that he had shown up out of the blue just two weeks ago. It was back to square one for whatever was happening between Lizz and Henry.

Henry sighed as he let himself sink further into the couch, propping his feet up on the ottoman and humming in satisfaction.

‘It’s not often that British springs are THIS nice.’ He smiled, his voice so deep it made his chest rumble.

‘Yea. Almost a shame to go back inside.’

‘Mhmm..So let’s stay a little while longer.’ He said, looking up at Lizz, her feet pulled up to her chest and a glass of red wine tucked in between. She grinned at him and smiled, a glint of sadness still touching her eyes.

Henry hated it. Seeing that. The sadness. He saw it no matter how she tried to hide it. With the working from dusk till dawn. The sweet smiles. He knew she was still struggling. And he hated it not only because he cared for her, but also because he wished she could care for him too. Seeing that sadness in her eyes he didn’t dare to bring up that touchy subject, instead deciding to stay on the safe side.

Just friends. Good friends, yes. But still. Just friends.

They were quiet again, their eyes looking out over the rural landscape as the last rays of sun glittered over the rolling hills. And, though they were quiet, the world around them sure wasn’t. Birds singing, crickets spinning, insects buzzing. They all savoured every last bit of sunlight until darkness finally came.

‘How about we make a little campfire, hmm? No need to go inside.’ Henry said, groaning softly while sitting up a bit and looking over at Lizz. She chuckled, her cheeks rosy from the glasses of wine she had been nipping on throughout the evening. ‘Sounds good.’ She agreed, smiling at Henry and leaning into him slightly.

Gosh, what a man, she blushed. Cook her dinner, pamper her all night and make a fire to keep her warm? Heck. She probably was the luckiest woman in the northern hemisphere right now.

The campfire was now but a pile of burning embers, the night mild, but definitely not chilly. Henry looked up at the galaxies that stretched far and wide above their heads, Lizz lying but a few inches away from him, their legs brushing, the lush grass tickling their skin.

He had looked at her for a little while as she had been telling him a story she had learned from her mother. A mnemonic to remember the horoscope patterns. With slightly inebriated gestures she pointed out all the ones she could remember - a few seemed to be “on a holiday”. Henry hadn’t really listened all that closely, his eyes instead brushing over her sweet features as the fire cast her in a soft glow. She looked so very beautiful. Over and over again he tried to tell himself; just friends, just friends. You’re just friends.

He bit his lip and turned his gaze back to the sky.

‘Were you looking at me, bear?’ She stopped her blurry story and quirked her head at him.

’Me? What makes you think that?’ Henry teased, looking back at Lizz and seeing her eyes sparkle with cheekiness. Goodness, she was well into her cups.

‘Yes you! Big bear! It’s very impolite to…’ She crawled up to him and hovered just mere inches away from his face, biting her lip playfully as her eyes locked with his.

‘..Stare?’ Henry added, grinning awkwardly, his whole body freezing as Lizz suddenly pressed her lips against his, her body quick to lock him between her thighs as her hands started to tug at his shirt.

Henry was a bit at loss with what to do. What to do with this hot, but totally drunk neighbour, lover, friend…? What to do? Shit.. His mind started going overtime as his body lay there frozen, frozen with the passion Lizz was kissing him. He wanted this. But also not. Not like this. But..he wanted..it all the same.

‘Let’s get big bear out to play.’ She growled, her hands making quick work of his belt.

‘Gods Lizz. No.’ He said, his voice so unconvincing it was closer to a lustful moan. And thus, she continued, her legs now astride him as she started to unzip his pants, his boxers pulled down to free his length.

He felt almost ashamed of how quick he grew hard for her. FUCK. He wanted her. Yes he wanted her. Reaching up he hooked his hand behind her head, pulling her down towards his face and settling for a slower pace. Tongues dancing an ancient duel that could last for many lightyears... were it not for Lizz’s impatience, her hand palming his cock with greediness. ‘Lizz, Lizz..Lizz.’ Henry could all but utter, the feeling just too much.

Her palm was hot, strong and slightly calloused from the manual labour she had been doing in and around her house. It made for perfect friction, his precum making her hand slide up in a smooth, tantalising pace. Henry started to pant, his arousal soon peaking as his eyes met hers. ‘Fuck.’ He growled, clenching his jaw and squeezing his eyes closed.

Breath, breath, breath. FUCK. 

‘Stop.’ He finally said, resolute and final. And thankfully, she stopped at once, her head quirking in confusion.

‘Not like this Lizz. Not like this.’ He choked, his eyes finally opening again.

‘What..? Want to go.. upstairs again? Afraid Mrs Gatter will see us?’ She snickered, poking his chest.

‘No Lizz. Not now. I mean. Yes I want this. But..you’re drunk..and I know you are still thinking of Luis. I…only want you if you really want me. Sober.’ He placed his hand on her cheek, seeing her face contort with more confusion.

‘Don’t you like me?’ She pouted, seemingly uninterested in her partition in Henry’s plea.

‘I do like you Lizz. I like you..a lot. I mean, why else would I be here, laying in the grass with you?’ He smiled, pulling her back to her initial position by his side, his hands quickly rearranging his boxers and pants.

‘Pfft. Not fair.’ She pouted again, laying her head on his chest and wrapping an arm and leg around him.

Henry didn’t know what to say, but also here, thankfully, Lizz made it easier; she fell asleep then and there on his chest.

‘Hmm. I just hope you’ll chose me someday, okay Lizz?’ He whispered softly, pressing a sweet kiss on her forehead. She looked so sweet when she slept, Henry thought, looking at her again like he had done just minutes earlier. He couldn’t help but feel a certain flutter in his heart when she was near. And if only ..if only..

‘I like you too, dummie.’ She muttered, sleep drunk.

Did she mean that? Or was this the wine talking?

| Chap 6 >

[nightmareonfilmstreet]

7 Horror Reads to Chill Your Soul This Summer

It’s summertime, and word on the street is that the livin’ is easy. If you’re anything like me, summer’s arrival means that you’re hiding in the air conditioning and comfort of your home (mosquitos find me quite the tasty treat and I’m not trying to contract West Nile). Othersout there who aren’t as delicious to the carnivorous ectoparasites of the world as I am are hitting the road. They’re going to the beach, they’re camping, and they’re laying in the sun to absorb the delectable, radioactive rays of the sun. It’s the time of cold drinks, loud music, and if you’re a fiend like the rest of here at NOFS, spooky stories.

While the rest of the world tries to limit the creepy and macabre to the month of October, we live a life of perpetual petrification. When you’re at the beach or hanging out by the pool, let the other people get in and splash around like shark bait. We know that there’s nothing sweeter than a horror novel to help keep you cool and take your breath away. So, for this article, I’m going to highlight some of my favorite horror novels that are great summer reads.

So what makes a horror novel a “Great Summer Read”? Well, brevity is a plus. We don’t really want to be lugging around Stephen King’s IT or Robert McCammon’s Swan Song on our way to the beach or up a hiking trail. I struggle to carry those beasts from my bookshelf to the couch, to be honest. So, while it’s not an automatic disqualification, I tried to stay away from the 1,000 page behemoths of the horror world. I also tried to take a look at subject matter and pick titles that involve summer, summer breaks, vacations, or basically anything that can whisk you away to land of pure imagination. Basically what I’m saying to all of you is that this is a completely subjective list. I loved reading these titles either this summer or in summers past, and I think you will, too.

So, without further ado, here is my list of Great Summer Horror Reads:

  1. The Troop by Nick Cutter

    This was the first novel I read from Nick Cutter, and it hooked me for life. It follows a troop of 5 14-year-old boys as they embark on their yearly summer scout adventure on Falstaff Island, an uninhabited area not far from their home on Prince Edward Island. Their excursion is cut short when a bone-thin, obviously diseased man who tries to eat everything in sight lands on the island. Scoutmaster Tim does his best to help the man, but he is soon overtaken and the boys face a nightmare that worms its way into the group and destroys what they thought they knew about themselves.

This book is gory. It is disgusting. It is a vivid walking nightmare that is best read out in the open air, surrounded by other people. Nick Cutter has proven himself to be one of the most visual authors in the horror genre, and never is that more evident than in The Troop. He uses the remote setting and the fear of foreign beings inside your body with an insatiable appetite to create a suffocating sense of paranoia and claustrophobia. You are trapped on this small island with these boys as they fight the disease that brought the skeletal man to their shores, and you must find the survivor inside of you to make it off.

Perfect For: A long hike and camp in the wilderness. Read it by the light of your Coleman lantern. Don’t worry about the noises you hear in the darkness, they only approach when they’re hungry…

  2. The Cabin at the End of the World by Paul Tremblay

    I didn’t think that a book would ever crawl inside my bones quite like Tremblay’s A Head Full of Ghosts did. I was wrong. His new novel, The Cabin at the End of the World is his most tense, terrifying book to date, which is saying a lot.

Seven-year-old Wen and her dads are vacationing at their cabin deep in the forests of New Hampshire when she is approached by a giant stranger. He seems pretty weird, and he tells her that her dads are not going to want to let him in the house, but that they have to. Then three more just like him show up. Wen runs into the cabin and her parents barricade the door. The strangers approach, and they knock. They are disciples of a god that visits them in visions, and Wen and her parents are the only people capable of ending the coming apocalypse.

This is much more than a home-invasion story. It’s s tale of survival, sacrifice, apocalypse and doom that has you guessing until the very last chapter. Not only is the fate of this loving family at risk, but the future of the entire human race may just rest on their shoulders. (Side note: The Cabin at the End of the World is the first horror novel that I have read that has a queer family at its center. I know there must be others, but this is a first for me. Well done, Paul Tremblay.)

Perfect For: Staying at that creepy lodge you booked online. You and your family should be just fine! Maybe just don’t answer the door when you hear a knock, ok?

  3. Providence by Caroline Kepne

    You may know the name Caroline Kepnes from her amazing novel You, which has been turned into a series for Lifetime that will air this fall. Her depiction of narcissist/psycopath Joe Goldberg was refreshing, funny, dark, and utterly terrifying. Providence, her third novel, follows a different path than her earlier works, but it is just as gripping and horrifying.

One morning, middle-schooler Jon Bronson is abducted from his small New Hampshire town (what is the deal with New Hampshire, you guys? I mean, is it really that spooky?). He awakens at his home four years later with no memory of his kidnapping or his captivity. Beside him is a copy of H.P. Lovecraft’s The Dunwich Horror and a letter from his abductor that tells him that he is fine, but he has an un-specified special ability. The joy that his best friend Chloe feels after his return is smashed to pieces once they find out that his “special ability” begins to threaten the lives of those he loves.

Kepnes is one of the finest authors in the world and she is a master at creating pace and tension. All three of her novels force your eyes across the page like they are tied to the front of a freight train. Providence is an exploration of not only what makes us human, but what keeps us that way.

Perfect For: Sitting on the back porch with a sweet tea and plenty of sunshine. Be sure to pack sunscreen for the rays and extra Kleenex for the nosebleeds that will splatter the page.

  4. Some Will Not Sleep by Adam Nevill

    A bestial face appears at windows in the night. In the big white house on the hill, angels are said to appear. A forgotten tenant in an isolated building becomes addicted to milk. A strange goddess is worshipped by a home-invading disciple. The least remembered gods still haunt the oldest forests. Cannibalism occurs in high society at the end of the world. The sainted undead follow their prophet to the Great Dead Sea. A confused and vengeful presence occupies the home of a first-time buyer . . .

If you have read any of my articles, then you know how much I love Adam Nevill and his terrifying tales. I was able to interview him last year (check it out HERE), and that piece remains the highlight of my journalistic career. Most of you may know him as the author of The Ritual and Last Days, but I fell like his work that is most like a “Great Summer Read” is his collection of short stories, Some Will Not Sleep.

While the book itself has some girth, it is conveniently sectioned into several perfectly crafted short tales of the horrifying and disturbing. These stories, according to Nevill on his website, were written and published between 1995 and 2011, and they reflect fears that are often the author’s own. About the title of the book, I can’t explain it better than the Master himself:

Some within it do not sleep, some who read it may not sleep, and he who wrote it often doesn’t sleep.

Perfect For: Reading in the car on the way to your destination. That way, the nightmares hopefully won’t be able to find you as you travel down the road.

  5. Rabbit in Red: The Complete Series by Joe Chianakas

    (Disclaimer: Joe is a local author that I have had the pleasure of working with in the past through my job. The inclusion of his series was neither asked for nor was it paid for… Joe… come on, man. GIVE ME SOME MONEY, BRO!)

Have you ever wondered what it would be like if Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory was designed, created and run by Rob Zombie? Well, wonder no more! This series of books (the first of which was selected to be included in a 2016 Horror Block and sent out to tens-of-thousands of subscribers), compiled together in one volume, follows a group of teens as they spend their summer vacation competing for an internship under the reclusive owner of a horror film company.

They compete in VR challenges that mirror some of the most iconic scenes in horror film history and intense trivia that will leave even the most knowledgable horror hounds scratching their heads. This series of books is a quick read that will keep you up at night as the kids win their internships and enter the dark web of their beneficiary. It is a love letter to the horror genre and, as it did with me, it will make you fall in love with the genre all over again.

Perfect For: Handing out to your teenage niece or nephew when they visit for the week. They have annoyed you enough with the youth-words that they use, so it will feel really good to keep them up at night.

  6. Meg: A Novel of Deep Terror by Steve Alten

    You didn’t think I would put out a list like this and not include a shark book? You know nothing about me! Instead of going with the classic Jaws by Peter Benchley (which, to be honest, I really do not care for), I decided to opt for the book that started the series that the next great shark movie, The Meg, is based on.

Jonas Taylor is a deep sea diver working with the United States Navy. He spots a Megalodon while on a top-secret mission in the Mariana Trench. No body believes him, of course, because the Megalodon is supposed to have been extinct for millions of years. To prove them wrong, Jonas becomes a paleontologist (as one does) and attempts to find the beast again. His wish is granted when he returns to the Trench, only this time, one of the beasts follows him back up to the surface.

Chaos ensues. People are gobbled up like Tic Tacs and there’s only one man in the world that can stop it. JASON MOTHERF**KING STATH… oh, sorry… JONAS TAYLOR!

It’s ridiculous in all the right ways. It is a 50’s monster movie come to life with thrills, chills, blood and awesome one-liners.

Perfect For: Enjoying the bay while laying on one of those giant inflatable pool floats that look like a swan. You know the ones! Take a deep breath, relax, and hope that there’s nothing watching you from beneath the waves.

  7. Malevolents: ‘Click Click’ by Thom Burgess and Joe Becci

    I must say that I am a novice in the realm of horror comics. I know that there are a lot of them out there, but I’ve just never gotten into that style of horror literature. I can gladly say that Malevolents: ‘Click Click’ has opened my eyes to a whole new world of terror.

This incredible comic book from award winning writer Thom Burgess follows four school friends who dare one another to spend the night in one of Britain’s most haunted houses. They bring along with them an Ouija Board (what could go wrong), and tell each other the story of the ghost that lives in the walls and wants to take your tongue from your mouth.

I include it in this list because it is short (only 32 pages or so), it’s horrifying, and it transports you to a different place and time. If you’re stuck at home due to work or insufficient funds, Malevolents will take you on a trip that you will never forget.

Perfect For: Reading by flashlight after a summer storm has knocked out your power. If you don’t look at the shadows crawling out of the walls, they won’t come after you… I promise. ‘Click’

So, there you have it! Whether you’re out and about this summer or hanging out in the house like me, here are 7 horror reads that will chill your bones and keep you cool as the temperature rises. Do yourself a favor and pick these titles up today! While you’re at it, join our Facebook group, Horror Fiends of Nightmare on Film Street, and let us know what you think.

  The post 7 Horror Reads to Chill Your Soul This Summer appeared first on Nightmare on Film Street - Horror Movie Podcast, News and Reviews.

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[eratoroam]

Before traveling to a new country, we like to play a little game where Ryan looks up the temperature so we can get a glimpse of our future. As we were anticipating our trip to India, Ryan read off temperatures that were around 100-110 degrees Fahrenheit. As we already felt like we were dying in the intense sun in Sri Lanka at a whopping 85-95 degrees . . . well, let's just say we tried not to think about it too hard. Luckily for us, our fiery fate was delayed by the glorious 60-65 degree temperatures in Darjeeling. You guys – I got to wear socks and leggings every night! We really, really liked it here for more than just the temperature, which really was great, but you get it and I'll move on . . .

Located in West Bengal, in the “Lesser Himalaya,” Darjeeling is a busy mountain town that provides incredible views of THE Himalayas; to be specific, Kanchenjunga (pictured – it's the third-highest mountain in the world!) and, if you're lucky, Mount Everest itself. Sadly, as is true with a lot of cities visited in off-season, some of the normal attractions tend to be unavailable. We had a very cloudy stay, so we spotted Kanchenjunga for a few moments at 5 AM from the front porch of our host’s house, and we didn't get a chance to take a “peak” at Everest (get it?). We weren't too concerned though, we'll see it one day. Our host used to lead treks to Everest Base Camp and gave us lots of good information.

While in Darjeeling, we enjoyed the incredible hospitality of our new friend Sanjay (previously referred to as “our host” - pictured above with his beautiful wife). They brought us tea every morning and provided us with great insights on what to do and how to get around the lovely town of  “Darling.”

The day we arrived we had spent ~40 hours awake and traveling. You'd think it wouldn't take very long to get from Sri Lanka to India, but you'd be wrong. We did nothing after we arrived in Darling, other than enjoy the dinner provided by Sanjay and his wife, and then promptly fall asleep by 8:30 PM. The day after we arrived, after 12 hours of sleep and a nice hot cup of tea, we set out to breakfast at the famous Keventer's, which has been in business there for over 100 years. After some awesome coffee and egg sandwiches, we walked to the Padmaja Naidu Himalayan Zoological Park, which also encompasses the Himalayan Mountaineering Institute. The institute houses some of the equipment and heroic, often tragic stories of the brave souls to attempt the daunting climb to Mount Everest and other Himalayas. We learned a lot and walked away with a hunger to learn more. Within the park perimeter is also the Bengal Natural History Museum, which as with most museums of its nature, is a taxidermist's dream and a taxidermiphobe's worst nightmare (the eyes . . . oh God, the eyes).

One of our favorite experiences in Darling was at the former Buddhist monastery, now the Mahakal Temple for the Lord Shiva. Lined with rows and rows of colorful prayer flags, this spot on Observatory Hill gave us chills. With the constant sound of ringing bells, smell of incense, and surrounding fog that comes with living in a cloud, it felt otherworldly. We loved it so much, we left and then decided we wanted to go back up one more time to soak it in a little longer.

We spent a lot of time just walking around, enjoying the sights of the homes, schools, and businesses all stacked up on top of one another, lining the hills around and below us. And a lot of time drinking tea; they do say that Darjeeling tea is the “champagne of teas.” I'm not entirely sure what that's supposed to mean, but it's really good. One particular place, called the Hot Stimulating Cafe (no, seriously), also had amazing steamed veggie momos, which are dumplings native to South Asia and very delicious. We even had a few opportunities to sit down and drink some beer in the area! Our favorite was Joey's Pub, which was playing Elvis and others the entire time and pleased my homesick-and-oldies-loving heart. The fusion of Indian, Tibetan, and Nepali food, the tea, the people – all worth the long journey and well worth going back for. Until next time, Darling!

[women-are-visual]

Mendocino: A Foggy New England Town in California

Mendocino is a foggy New England style town on the coast of Northern California, four hours north of Oakland. My brother told me about it after going there, and I’ve been missing the country outside of Buffalo and going to Maine during the summer, so I finally convinced Scott to take a short vacation and endure the somewhat long drive. I rented a cute, Americana cabin in the woods on Airbnb, where he could edit his sci-fi novel and take a break from doing IT work, and I could have some outdoor space and enjoy the country. The ad said the owners were Christians, but Scott said that’s okay, because now that we’re older our values are aligned, even though we’re atheists. He said, “Think about it, we were raised Catholic, is there any culture or religion that we’re more aligned with?”

I booked the cabin for Friday through Monday, but Scott was too tired from working all week to drive there on Friday night, and I had worked all day coding fonts on a website, so we waited to leave until Saturday afternoon. It was a sunny, warm day. I drove because Scott needed a break. We were in his Honda Fit, but he’s so tall that his knees touched the dashboard on the passenger’s side, so he had to stretch out his legs and put his feet up, until they touched the windshield, and he finally got comfortable that way. We had drinks and snacks, berry soda water and salt and vinegar Pringles. Within half an hour we had left the city and were in the country. The highway was beautiful. We passed golden meadows and hills, dotted with live oak trees, cows and sheep grazing, and old, brown wood barns with metal roofs and missing windows.

After two hours, halfway through the drive, we stopped for dinner in Healdsburg. It’s a cute little town with a town square and a surrounding business district, but it smelled like cow manure, and it was full of bitchy yuppies. They were sitting at the sidewalk tables in front of fancy restaurants, drinking wine, and being served by what looked like the kids of migrant farm workers. The yuppie guys wore boat shoes with no socks and khaki shorts and and sweaters tied over their shoulders. They looked like older, silver-haired, jock-turned-CEO, assholes. The women were anorexic and had nose jobs and facelifts and perfect, dyed and straightened, shoulder length hair. They wore long sun dresses and cardigans. The couples drank wine from big wine glasses and scowled, barely talking. We got dinner in a generic fancy restaurant: a salad with wild flowers, gamey chicken wings, and roasted brussels sprouts, and then we drove on.

It was another two hour drive from Healdsburg to Mendocino. That’s where the real country began. The road became windy and narrowed to only two lanes, one lane going each way. The only things separating us from oncoming traffic were two bright yellow lines and a rumble strip. It was wine country, so people were drinking.

“This scares me,” I said.

“Me too, be careful and stay on our side,” Scott said.

We started to pass vineyards, fields full of grapevines on stakes in perfect rows, and charming wooden signs that said the names of different wineries.

“Look at the grape fields,” I said.

“Those are vineyards,” Scott said.

“When I think of vineyards, I think of the fancy houses where they do wine tastings, I don’t think of the fields with rows of grapevines on stakes.”

“Well, that’s what a vineyard is, a vine yard.”

“I was trying to be poetic,” I said.

After an hour, we entered the redwoods and it got darker, because we were in the forest and the trees were very tall. We could only see the rough textured bark at the base of their thick red trunks. We rolled down our windows and smelled the fresh air. Finally, we got to the cabin.

It was nighttime by then and pitch black in the woods. We drove slowly down a dirt road, branches thumping against the car. Near the end of the road, a teenage boy was waiting for us, listening to his headphones. He pointed to the main house. An older woman came out and showed us the cabin, which was pretty closeby, not nearly as far away as I would have liked. Her name was Pat. She had white hair. The cabin was cute. They had built it themselves and it had a big front porch with a picnic table and a living room with a peaked ceiling. The decor was red, white, and blue Americana. There was a blue plaid couch with red pillows, two rocking chairs, and a wood stove. Red cotton curtains, tied back with floral fabric ties, framed each window. Pat showed us a pamphlet that said not to stand near the edge of cliffs overlooking the ocean, because they crumble sometimes where they’re undercut by the water, and people die. I said, “Really?” She looked at me seriously and said, “We’ve lost a few.” She said there was no internet or cell phone service and Scott just laughed. We both spend our entire days on our computers. 

She showed us the kitchen and I asked her who the other people on the property were and she sighed and said, “Our daughter and her four kids are living in the cabin across the way. Her husband went crazy. He stopped working and sold everything they owned and got abusive with her and the kids. She’s got a restraining order on him.” 

“What made him go crazy?” I asked. 

“I don’t know, meth?” she said. 

Oh shit, I thought, a meth head, but I only said, “Hmmm.” Of course I immediately envisioned him coming back to kill his wife in the night and bursting into our cabin instead. Then we noticed that the back door in the kitchen had only the flimsiest of locks. It was the type of handle that usually goes on a bathroom door with only a tiny button that clicked to lock it. Great. Pat left and Scott kept saying, “I should have brought my gun. You don’t come to the country without a gun.”

We decided to go into town. It was ten o’clock at night by that time and there was only one business open on the main street, Patterson’s Pub. It was a dark bar where the locals hung out. We sat next to a glowing jukebox, under a moosehead, and got a club sandwich with fries and some Lagunitas IPAs. The server was a friendly guy and they had internet and the sandwich was really good, much better than we expected. I emailed my friends Sandy and Cheryl, asking them to please search for me if I wasn’t back in a few days, and I was only half kidding.

We drove back to the cabin. It was pitch black all around. We were scared again. There was an axe next to some firewood near the front door. Scott got it and put it near the bed. We sat outside and looked at the stars. “Wow, look at all of them. You could never see this many in Oakland,” Scott said. He went to bed and tried to sleep, but I couldn’t. I read Misery by Stephen King in bed next to him, holding an LED tealight up to the pages and listening to every little sound.

I woke up at 10:30 the next morning. Usually I sleep until noon, so I hadn’t slept well, but there were no blackout shades and the sun was coming in through the thin blue curtains. I thought about my mom on vacations when I was young, chain smoking and pacing back and forth, bitching nonstop in her short shorts and tank top. I felt shitty and ugly, but I didn’t want to be like her. I wanted to complain about the light coming in, but I decided not to. Scott needed a break. I decided to try to be a stoic and accept that life is full of pain and it’s not about being happy or being a rich supermodel on a yacht with tons of friends and always partying, like I see in celebrity news. I decided that it’s okay to feel pain and I should just try to deal with it because the Buddhists were right. Life is pain. I had to try to accept that and get through each day by taking the best physical care of myself that I could, eating and sleeping well, grooming and dressing myself as well as I could, and tolerating my emotions.

I got up and went outside and Scott was sitting in the sun, at the picnic table on the front porch, typing away on his laptop. We hadn’t been able to see the area surrounding the cabin at night, but it was a pretty, sunny field with birds chirping and tall redwoods all around. A sparrow buzzed past me and landed in an apple tree and hopped and pecked, rustling the leaves. I made tea and sat in the sun and felt its warmth on my skin. It was a great feeling that I don’t get enough of.

The village was ten minutes away. We drove down a sunny country road, thick with pine trees on either side, and I felt happy because it reminded me of Collins, New York, where I grew up. It looked like Amish country, and I almost expected to see a horse and buggy any minute. We passed openings in the trees, the entrances to long dirt driveways, marked by silver mailboxes on wooden posts. We turned onto the main road into town and suddenly the weather changed. We were near the ocean and it was gray and foggy. A white, misty fog blew across the road and the pine trees. It was beautiful, so East Coast. We drove across a bridge over a river. More mist and fog, obscuring everything, graying things out, making the pine trees on the hills plump and happy. It was an amazing sight, especially now that we live in Oakland and every day is perfectly, maddeningly, sunny and warm. It was May and it hadn’t rained in a month and wouldn’t until October.

The main street had a grocery store, a bank, and some restaurants and coffee shops. It was chilly and we had to put on our jackets when we got out of the car. “I love this weather. It makes me happy,” I said. “It’s the negative ions,” Scott said.

For breakfast, we went to practically the only place in town, in the center of the street, called GoodLife. Scott got a chicken curry and I got chicken enchiladas and a chocolate croissant and we both got coffees. The cafe was bright and cheery and everyone in town seemed to be there. I saw a woman from the bar where we’d been the night before. Then we walked down the main street and around the village. It was very small and only had intermittent sidewalks if the home or business owners had bothered to build one. We passed Victorian houses, water towers, and art galleries. We saw the Mendocino Art Studio, a series of dark wood buildings with a pretty garden in the center, where they taught painting and ceramics. I bought a tiny, handmade ceramic bowl as a souvenir. We went to a book arts show at another gallery and saw little homemade books with women’s travel journals and paintings and collages inside of them and the pages folded and sewn together. I loved them and spent a long time looking at them and thinking about making one of my own. My sister was an artist who always teased me about being into book art, she said most artists make fun of it, but I love books, so I can’t help it. The woman volunteering at the gallery told us about the art show and the town. Everyone we saw was old, in their sixties and seventies. There were old yuppie tourists, old hippie artists, and old lower class people, plodding along in black, heavy clothing, but they were all old. I liked it that way and thought about retiring there. We went to Copperfield’s bookstore, so I could get another book for the cabin. I felt happy for a minute, sitting on a warm bench in the window of the bookstore, reading next to Scott.

At the end of the main street, a path led to cliffs that overlooked the ocean. We stood near the edge, careful to avoid the undercuts, and looked down at the white waves breaking on the brown rocks. It was chilly, damp, and gray. Fog obscured everything and it was impossible to see very far. We occasionally felt a drop of cool mist that was like a very light rain. I was reminded of The Fog by John Carpenter and The Mist by Stephen King, and I wanted to watch those films again. We went to the grocery store, Harvest, and bought snacks and went back to the cabin.

For dinner, we went to a fancy French restaurant in a Craftsman house called Cafe Beaujolais. On each table, there was a candle and a vase of wildflowers. We split a salad with goat cheese croquettes, a pork chop, and some mushroom risotto. Scott got two Sonoma cabernets and I got a kir royale and a rosé. Good wine starts out tasting like vinegar and then tastes like water at the end of each sip. I know that because my brother’s girlfriend sells wine and is a sommelier, so I’ve tasted a lot of wines now, but I’ll never really like it, normally I drink beer and vodka. We bought a Lagunitas IPA and drove back to the cabin. We were drunk, so we didn’t feel scared that night. Scott built a fire in the wood stove and sat on the rug in front of it, tending to it by moving the embers around with a cast iron poker. He said that building a fire was a good thing to learn, like learning how to shoot a gun.

The second day we drove up the coast a bit and walked down a long road to a lighthouse. It was a little white wooden building on the edge of the water with a tower with a light spinning around at the top of it. The light was very elaborate and looked like a glass jewel spinning inside of a casing. Scott was fascinated by it. He said, “I thought the light would just be some industrial thing, not this ornate thing.” It was foggy and beautiful and we stood at the edge of the cliffs and looked at the ocean and said we loved the lighthouse.

On the walk back, we went into the house where the lighthouse keeper and his family had lived. It was a really cool museum, because there was nobody there, they just left the house open for tourists, so it felt very relaxed and homey. I never read signs, but there was an interesting one in the kitchen about “A day in the life of the lighthouse keeper’s wife.” The family lived there during the 1930s. She only had a wood stove to cook on and a sink to wash clothes in, but at least they had plumbing. Her day started at 5:00 a.m. when she had to get kindling and coal and build a fire in the stove. She would milk the cow and collect eggs, if there were any. If there weren’t, she would just make tea and toast. She would unseal the wax around the jam jar and put jam on the toast. Then she would spend hours washing the clothes with a washing board, so the kids could have clean clothes for school. I liked that description, because my own days are so filled with housework, even just picking up the house, that I can relate. Although we often go out to dinner and get our laundry done down the street, it’s still a lot of work.

We were scared at the cabin again that night.

The fourth day was our last day there. We got up and cleaned the cabin and left Pat and Jerry a note about the flimsy door lock that we wanted them to fix. They had left instructions that said to pack all of the wet food inside of a plastic bag inside of the main garbage bag, so it wouldn’t smell before Jerry got a chance to take it to the dump. I put half of a watermelon inside of a plastic bag, but I felt sad doing it. Here they lived on twenty acres and they weren’t composting their food scraps and they didn’t appear to have a garden either. What did it mean to live in the woods if they just bought shitty old produce from the grocery store and then hauled everything to the dump? I told them I thought they should have a compost in the note. But I also told them that Pat was a great decorator and Jerry told charming stories. I didn’t want to be a shit, but I wanted to give them honest feedback. We had breakfast at GoodLife cafe again. Scott and I got emails and texts from my friend, Sandy, saying that she was worried and was going to come out there if we didn’t get back to her soon. We laughed, but I felt very grateful for that, because normally it seems like nobody cares about us. I wrote her back that we were fine, after all. We walked on a beach along a river with golden sand, past big grey-white logs of driftwood, and watched the fog blowing across the water and the hills of pine trees.

We drove home. It got sunnier and drier as we left the coast and entered wine country again. The live oak trees looked withered and the long grasses in the fields were yellow.

We passed a corner store called Lemons and a sign that said, “Navarro.”

“Dave Navarro,” I said.

“He’s the guitarist for the Red Hot Chili Peppers,” Scott said.

“Really? I just remember him from Jane’s Addiction.”

“No, he’s their guitarist now. He’s really good. They didn’t have a good one until him.”

We talked about how the band is full of macho, trashy, LA beach bum cholos, but they’ve managed to stay relevant and have gotten better over time because we both like “Californication.”

“Dave Navarro might have written that song,” Scott said.

(I looked this up later and it was actually their regular guitarist, John Frusciante, who played on “Californication.” Dave Navarro only played on their album, One Hot Minute, which was a failure critically and commercially.)  

I drove for a long time, but the drive was beautiful and we didn’t mind it. We passed the A&W in Marin, with the oval brown and orange sign, in the seventies building with a pointed, brown shingle roof that makes it look like a cross between a chapel and a Burger King. “I’ve always wanted to go there and I never have, and I love rootbeer floats,” I said, “Can we go? Please!” Scott usually lectures me about sugar, but this time he surprised me. “Okay,” he said. I drove towards the exit, but then I realized that I’m already fat, so I decided to just keep driving.

It was dusk when the road went from two lanes to ten lanes and the trees disappeared. There was traffic on all sides, speeding by and pushing us along, the faster cars wove between the slower cars, cutting everyone off. The landscape was gray but it wasn’t from the fog, it was from the concrete. We were back in the city.

“I don’t want to be here,” I said.

“I like it here,” Scott said, “I’m not from the country, like you, I’m scared of hicks.”

We got home at 9:00 and got on our computers, thankful to have internet. Then we had tea and unpacked.

The vacation had given me some new ideas, as vacations always do, which is why I like them. My new ideas are that I’m going to try to be less of a hedonist and more of a stoic. I’m going to recognize that life is pain and try to tolerate that pain more. I’m also going to go to farmer’s markets and try to eat healthier food grown by local farmers. If we live in an apartment and I don’t have land to grow food on, then I will at least try to eat organic food that is locally grown. It will just be a matter of getting up early enough on Saturdays.

May 27, 2017

[daveedsbra-blog]

Stupid Cupid Pt. 2

pairing: Lin-Manuel Miranda x Reader X Anthony Ramos

TW: angry parents, I say ‘christ’ man, real wild.

summary: greasers are nice but they can be shitty, same goes for most teenagers, though, its hard when you can’t make up your mind over two boys, especially when you have the expectations of family and friends.

words:  2012 (wow)

a/n: assdjfhhsjfndjfjsncnvr it’s here, I'm sorry, I started a new school and this is way overdue, but I think I'm gonna do like one more proper chapter and then a lin or Anthony drama thing idk, okay love you xox, I might get a few fics out this week if were lucky!! also @pdothamman you’re welcome

part one

The next day I found myself drifting to school in a romantic struck haze, smiling to anyone who passed me on the street. my book bag, which was slung over my shoulder, gave no feeling of weighing me down, in fact, I didn't feel it's usually nagging weight. I drifted down the school path, listening to the chatter of students around me.

Why am I so happy? You may ask. Well, this morning when I went downstairs I was greeted by my brother, who didn't seem too pleased, showing a bouquet of roses into my hand, then he let out an annoyed "they're from Lin.." Then went back to eating his Krinkles, glaring the bunch down as I sat at the table, my mom sliding a bowl of cereal in front of me. "He was quite impressed with himself" she sang, smiling at my brother. "I quite like that boy" she adds, giving my brother the same look he gave the roses. "You know, your dad did the same thing to me, we did have lives you know," she says, rushing to the sink, I rolled my eyes and ate. So there I was, smiling to myself, the roses Lin gave me pinned in my hair. I kept a look out for him, but to no avail, so I went to my classes for the morning, talking to Philipa about the previous day. During morning tea I sat with my friends, Philipa, Renee, and Jasmine, as I talked I looked around, distancing myself from them as I tried to spot the brunette. "Y/N? Are listening" I shaken from my search by Renee moving my shoulder back I forth, I look at her with a confused expressing. "Y/N, are you okay?" Jasmine asks, resting a hand on my calf. "Uh... Yes, sorry I'm distracted" I sigh, seeing Pippa roll her eyes in my peripherals "what?" I snap at her, a frown forming on my face as I look at her, she smiles and plucks a flower from my hair. "You're acting all lovey Dovey after your date with Lin last night," she says, sniffing the rose, causing Jasmine and Renne gasp and lean in. "What was he like?" "Did he buy you dinner?" "Did he hold your hand?" "Where did you go?" They both gush like blabbering idiots as I sigh to myself. "It wasn't a date, we went to the park to study..." I say, giving them an unimpressed look. "But yes... He did hold my hand" I try to cover the wide grin on my face. I watch their faces go from excited grins to shocked, knowing stares directed behind me. "He did what now?" A male voice as from behind me, resting their hands on the top of my head. "Chris, Jon, sit down, we're talking about Y/N and Lin's date last night," Philipa says, causing me to stare at her angrily. "It wasn't a date!" I insist, my voice going into a high-pitch shriek. I see the Chris and Jon sit down next to me. "So you're the reason he canceled our study session," Jon says, his face looking a mixture of being impressed and disappointed. "Lin and I studied in the park and he merely helped me, nothing more," I say. "Well that's not what I heard a few seconds ago" Renee had a sly look on her face as she looked around the group, I huff and cross my arm, hunching over with a scowl on my face. "So? He held my hand? He was being polite, that's how you should treat a lady" I say. "What are you? Last of the Victorians? Jeez..." Chris shakes his head. "Just ask the guy out on a date.." He adds, resting his head in his hands. "Maybe... I promised Anthony I'd go out with him after school, though.." I say quietly, cause the loudest group groan you've ever heard, Pippa throws herself backward, being dramatic, Jon and Chris look at each other with a disappointed look, Renee falls onto my lap and Jasmine looks at me with a pitiful look. "No!" Is the overall judgment. "Come on! You're gonna do that to Lin?" Pippa tried to guilt trip me. "I promised him! I can't back out of a promise, my mother raised me better" I say. "Firstly, your mom hates Anthony, and two, just tell him to go away," Chris says. "We all know that's true" "And I don't even know your mom!" Jon butts in, causing everyone to look at me. "Well... Then I'll do it out of spite" I frown at all of them, sitting up straight. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have Home tech" I stand up and swing my back over my shoulder, walking away, moistening to Pippa laugh and get up. "We're joking Y/N, you know I love you," she says, linking her arm in mine, walking with me. "Whatever" I sigh, smiling at her. --- As the end of the day approached I felt myself grow excited yet nervous, once I ran out the school gates and waited for Anthony, in the same place he usually picks me up in, I stood there, holding my book back to my chest, looking around, keeping an eye out for his turquoise Bel Air Chevy. When he finally pulled up I smiled, his hair was out all over his face as he gave me a toothy grin, his Chevrolet dying down as he stopped in front of me. "Hop in babes" he said, I gave him a meek smile as I opened the door, placing my books on the floor, tucking my dress under my thighs as I sat down, I looked at him and leant over to give him a small peck on the cheek, causing him to break out in a red blush, turning into a stuttering mess. "Thank you for taking me out, Anthony," I say. "C-call me Ant," he says wide-eyed as he drives down to the road, I laugh to myself as I turn to face the passing road on my right. "So, where are we going?" I ask, my hair flying around my face, the top of the car being wound down. "Well, mom and pops are out for the evening, so I was thinking I could show you the farm," he says, I smile sweetly and turn to him. "That sounds really nice," I say, my eyes moving to his hand as he shifted gears in the car. "I'm really excited," he says, I nod at him. "I am too," I say simply. ------ We drove for a while longer, spoke about small things, and eventually showed up at his house, the long gravel driveway shaking the car as we drove down the hill, I barely spotted his house as we drove. He pulled outside the tall, White House, the black joining complementing the rest of it. I open the door and reached down to grab my bag, Anthony appeared at the door and took my hand, helping me up, I laughed at him and wandered past him, going towards the house as he closed my door. "Your house is so nice," I gawk, he looks down and smiles shyly. "T-thank you.." He says as he flies up the porch steps, unlocking the door, and swinging it open, a golden retriever bursting through the door, jumping on the chest, I let out a shriek and jump backwards. "Oh my goodness!" I say. "Daisy! Down!" Anthony commands, the dog turning to him, jumping up on him. "I'm so sorry" he apologizes, patting the dogs head as she licked his face. "No, she's cute. But a little shocking" I laugh. He looks at the dog and back at me with an apologetic look. "Come on, I can get you something to drink, I think we have some pop in the back fridge,on" he says, pushing the dog into the house. I follow him, my hands behind my back as I give him a curious look.

“so what's the drive like to school?” I ask as I follow him through the corridors of his large house, he turns back and gives me a curious look “by that I mean you live quite far away the drive must be quite long” I clarify, he nods and continues to walk leading me up a flight of stairs.

“yeah I suppose it's quite long” he says says he swerves into a bedroom, this bedroom had a queen size bed with messy bed covers a large window that had been open on its way to setting, a cold breeze blowing through the room as I look at the clothes strewn across the floor. “but I've gotten used to it” he adds giving me a bright smile.

A silence hung over the room as we both stared at each other, daisy quietly panting behind me in the doorway.

“Do you want to go outside?” He asks, I nod and agree, following him out.

-----

I didn't realize how much land his family owned, he held my hand tightly as he leads me up a hill, the sun glowing down on us as the flowers fall from my hair.

I giggle at something he says as we sit down, my hand interwoven with his as he told me a story about Daveed and Oak getting detention.

“Hey, what time do you need to be home? I think it's getting late” he says, looking at the sky, the sun already setting, leaving a pink heugh lying over the sky, like sleeping beauty.

“My curfew is at 6, so probably before then,, ” I say, his face sinks. “What?” I ask.

“We should probably get going, then. It's 5:46 right now” he say, biting his lip, my face sinks too.

“Oh Christ” I murmur, standing up, my flats barely holding it together as I started down the hill, Anthony chasing behind as I ran towards the car.

“My dad's going to kill me!” I shriek, pulling on the door handle Anthony lets out a nervous laugh.

“It's gonna be fine, I'll get you home in time, ” he says, jumping over the door of the car, land in the seat, he then leans over to the passenger side and opens it for me, I jump in with a huff as he starts driving.

“It's not your fault, I'm not angry, my dad is going to be angry, though” I sigh, leaning against the side of the car, my ponytail flapping about in the wind as we drove.

“just blame it on me, your parents hate me as it is” he sighs sadly.

“I don't hate you, though, so that's what really matters,” I say at him.

“well it kind of does, I don't mean to be a downer, but if I asked you out your dad would make you say no” he says “It's not a fairy tale ending, Y/N, I can't make them like me” he sounds defeated as we pull up onto the road, the silence settling as I thought about what he said.

“I don't know what to say…” I sigh “you're right, which I don't particularly like but I don't blame you…”

We didn't really talk as I looked at the sky, the sun slowly setting over the town.

----

“Y/N! You're 25 minutes late! Where were you?” my mother screams at me as I walk through the door, she turns to the corridor, my brother's smug face behind her as I look at the ground. She stomps up to me and grabs the collar of my shirt, dragging me to the kitchen.

“I bet she was out with Anthony,” Eddy says, a smile plastered on his face asIsee my father stone cold face staring at me.

“I hope this is false, Y/N”, He says, I flinch.

“it… it's true… im sorry” I say quietly and I hold my hands together.

“and where on earth is your bag?” he asks, his hand pointing at me.

“I must have left it”

[bunvoyagesarah]

El Camino de Santiago de Compostela

I am verry behind on writing this.  About three months behind. I will do my best to recap.  And luckily, for this part, I kept a pretty detailed journal.  

Monday, January 13 Day 1- O2 Hostel to Se Cathedral de Porto to Foz de Duoro to Matosinhos to Lavra to Labruge 30km/18miles

Bruno and I discussed leaving at 7am.  I had barely slept because I was nervous about getting lost and worried about carrying my bags.  At 7am, I was ready to walk out the door.  Bruno, however was still in his bed asleep. I will admit, I did not know him very well and thought, “Should I just leave him or should I wake him up? We said 7am right?” I decided to give it another 10 minutes, and sure enough, by then he was awake and moving. We left around 7:25am. I’ll tell you right now because I wish I had known then: We never once left on time despite Bruno asking me every night what time we should leave in the morning.  

Bruno and I set out to the Central Portuguese Route of El Camino from our hostel in Porto.  I had read that the Coastal Route, whilst getting out of Porto city is much nicer, so we walked along the Duoro River for most of the morning and then the next day we would be able to meet up with the Central path.  We stopped for lunch along the path. Bruno kept saying, “Oh we’ll be there by 12.” We were not there by 12. We met another Brazilian guy, Arturo who gave us lots of tips, as he had already hiked El Camino Frances route a year earlier.  He recommended the app that I was still trying to figure out, Buen Camino.

We arrived at 2:15pm to Albergue de Labruge, our friend Arturo kept walking another 10km to the next town.  The albergues don’t usually open until about 2pm and because it was winter, there was no one there. Either way, we wanted to rest.  We waited a few minutes and then a girl appeared to have us register in their book, show us where the donation box was, and put a stamp in our “passports.” I had been worried that the albergue would be full, as I had read that so many people walk and they only have so many beds. That was never the case along the entire route.  In fact, we had the opposite occur, where Bruno and I were the only people in some of the places we stayed.  

I was very sore. I laid down on the bed in all my clothes and multiple blankets and took a nap.  I woke up still very sore with a blister on my pinky toe.  You know your feet are sore when you don’t want to put on your shoes, but they are better to cushion your feet than walking barefoot.  I unfortunately did not have any flip-flops to wear.  Eventually, some older Spanish men showed up, and then much later, a German man. I did not have a sleeping bag, and there was not much heating in this old building. Luckily, there were only five of us in the room with 10 single beds, so I stole three blankets, and used one to put down on the plastic mattress and used the others on top of me. This first day was hard. I actually wrote in my journal, “What was I thinking?” After the nap and shower, I felt better, and by morning, I was ready to go again.  

Tuesday, January 14 Day 2- Labruge to Vila de Conde to Touguinha to Junqueira to Acros to San Pedro de Rates 27.6km/17.15miles

We left at 7:45am.  Bruno had suggested instead of strapping my small backpack to the back of my big backpack that I carry the small backpack in the front of my body, like a baby carrier.  This ended up being a lot more comfortable and I continued to walk this way for the rest of the journey.  I did shove a lot of my things, my computer being one of thing into my larger 55 liter backpack, so more of the weight was on my hips, compared to my shoulders with my front backpack.   

Again, by 12:30pm, I was very tired.  My back was very sore.  I am now in a love-hate relationship with my hiking buddy.  It was love because he kept me going, but hate because he asked so many questions when sometimes I just wanted silence.  

We arrived to the albergue at 2:25pm.  This albergue in Rates was run by an older guy who lived on the Camino for years. He had no phone and he sits in the living room reading all day.  He recommended a place to eat with big portions and got us settled into our room. Bruno and I were in a room with five bunk beds, so luckily I had lots of blankets again.  Later, a German guy named Jonas was put into another room with probably another five bunk beds.  We were the only three people to sleep there that night.  I was quickly finding the shower at the end of the day to be the best thing in the world.  It warmed me and relaxed all my tired muscles.  

Jonas and I ended up getting a dinner and drinks at the restaurant recommended by the albergue.  It was about seven euros for the pork schnitzel, salad, potatoes, and half a bottle of wine.  This was the only dinner I ate out during my journey. The albergue was a five euro donation.

Wednesday, January 15 Day 3- San Pedro de Rate to Pedra Furada to Pereira to Bacelinhos to Barcelos to Tamel (San Pedro de Fins) 33km/21miles

We left at 8:53am and it had been raining pretty hard overnight and when we woke up, but by about 8:40am, it had stopped so we left then. We ran into Jonas, the German from the night before along the trail but he was stopping in Barcelos, so we never saw him again after that. Bruno and I had made good time to Barcelos, so decided to keep going to Tamel even though Barcelos is a bigger town.  

It was getting dark by the time we arrived at 5:50pm. And the rain was just starting in the last 100 meters, so we arrived a little wet. Again we were the only ones there on arrival.  This bunk room had about eight bunk beds and was pretty cold with no blankets. Two German girls arrived in from even more rain and darkness.  After talking to them for a bit, they went to bed.  We snuck the small portable space heater from the laundry area up to our room and plugged it in. The one girl wanted me to turn it off, so I said, “Sure, before I go to sleep.” Bruno had not yet come up to the room, and I knew full well that he’d turn it back before going to sleep, so lucky for me I didn’t freeze.  The girl turned it off in the middle of the night, but come morning, I turned it back on. They were gone before we got downstairs.  

Thursday, January 16 Day 4- Tamel to Corgo  10km/6miles 

We left Tamel just before 9am. We had heard about this homestay in Corgo called Casa de Fernanda from the guy in Rates, but knew it was not very far. Figured we could use a short day. I had also really wanted to stay there, as it was a home cooked meal by Fernanda and breakfast in the morning with her husband, Juanito.  

Because it was such a short day, we arrived at 11:15am, despite Bruno walking in flip flops for most of the morning because his shoes were bothering him. We sat outside for an hour or two and that’s when Juanito showed up and talked to Bruno for a little in Portuguese and then let us into the building where they had about twelve single beds in a room and a bathroom. Juanito brought us out soup and bread, which was so nice. Around dinner time, Fernanda called us over for dinner.  She made this amazing roasted chicken with beans and sausage and sauce over rice along with bread and cabbage. She served us her homemade red wine and then after dinner, different types of Port including my favorite: Tawny Port. Then the “fire water.” We had a great time talking with Fernanda about how she became somewhat of a legend on the Central Route.  What had started as a woman knocking on her door about twenty years ago looking for a place to stay has become a building with 12 beds.  While we were the only people to stay there that night, she often takes “reservations” for people.  She can also sleep two people on the porch, which some people hate, and some people request. She also mentioned how they had to put the sign up about the suggested donation of 20 Euros and how she feels bad doing it, but otherwise people leave nothing. She lives in the house with her husband, and happened to be picking up her daughter from college that night, but the three of them had a meal together later.  

Friday, January 17 Day 5- Corgo to Valinhas to Barros to Ponte de Lima to Rubiaes 38km/23.6miles

In the morning, Fernanda had gone but her husband served us tea and bread with jam or chorizo and cheese. Despite telling Bruno we should really leave by 9am, we didn’t leave the kitchen until 9am and we’re walking by 9:20am.  I found I really liked to leave before 8am because I seemed to get tired around noon regardless, so the further I could get before noon, the better. I met two Ukrainian women who spoke very little English, but we each took some pictures for the other and then a selfie together.    

I had planned for us to spend the night in Ponte de Lima, which would have been about 14km, but we got there by 12:20pm, and even though it was a big town that was beautiful, we were well rested from the day before. I convince Bruno we should go all the way to Rubiaes and definitely didn’t mention that there was a big hill on the way.  However, it took us some time to get through Ponte de Lima after stopping at an ATM for me and a grocery store for lunch and extra snacks, so after climbing this 500m hill, we stopping for a few minutes for the view, we continues on our descent.  I remember we kept saying to each other that we should be there about 5:30, and giving ourselves until 6pm to get there with breaks.  The last 40 minutes was in the dark, with my headlamp dead and Bruno’s windup flashlight leading the way.  We were so happy to finally arrive.  Normally, there would be lots of places to stay between these two bigger towns, but because it was January, many of the homestays or private albergues were closed due to low demand and left us staying at the cheaper, public albergues that run on donations in Portugal or eight Euros per person in Spain and are only in the bigger towns roughly 20-30km apart. The homestays and private albergues are necessary in the summer, as sometimes you can’t get into the public albergues if you show up too late, but so far we hadn’t been running into many people and this was not an issue for us at all.  

We go to open the door and it’s locked and there’s a sign saying they close at 6pm! We try and another door and are talking to each other about what to do for maybe a minute, when this woman pokes her head out of a window from the 2nd floor right above the front door.  She says the front desk lady left, but she’s going to come down and see if she can open the door for us.  

(Side note: These albergues are usually “open” from 2pm-8 or 9pm, which is just to say that’s when someone is there to give you a bed, stamp your “passport,” and collect the donation or fee for staying. Once the front desk agent leaves, the front door is locked from the outside with no way to get back in and you, as a pilgrim are not really suppose to let people in, as it could be a “security problem”.  There’s always a door to leave out of in the morning that will lock behind you, whether it’s a side door or front door.)

This woman came down a minute later and opened the door for us.  Her and her husband were the only people staying there and we were so thankful for them, otherwise we likely would have slept next to the building. Instead, we had a nice space heater, and there were lots of blankets in our four bunk bed room. Bruno ran out to the store, another couple kilometers away, which I couldn’t believe after we had such a long day. Meanwhile, I made a pasta dinner and chatted with the couple who were very nice.  

Saturday, January 18 Day 6- Rubiaes to Cossourado to Pedreira to Valenca 20km/12.6miles

We left at 9:10am. Bruno and I had talked about going all the way into Spain, just a couple more kilometers, but about halfway through the day decided to finish in Valenca, mostly because it the albergue would be cheaper and donation based rather than the required eight Euros that we were told (and did) happen in Spain. It also started raining very hard just as we were approaching the albergue, so we were drenched coming in around 2pm.  We dropped all our stuff in the laundry area to dry and then checked in. This front desk guy was adamant about not letting strangers in, probably because then the building wouldn’t be collecting any money from them.  

I now had blisters on both my ankles, under the balls of my feet and the underside of my left pinky toe was one big blister. I had found a sign that advertised someone picking up my bag and taking it straight to Santiago for 30Euros, but in the end decided against it, as I was now that much stronger and felt like I had already come so far with my bag that I could finish with it too.

There was a large grocery store very close to our albergue, that I spent some time in there.  One of my favorite things to get was six eggs. I would hard boiled all of them that night and carry them for a snack the next couple days.  I also ate a lot of oranges as snack/lunch.  Usually at night I had pasta. And for breakfast, some Brevita biscuits.  

We were the only people in this huge albergue. There were at least two rooms each with 30 bunk beds (60 people).  I can’t imagine how loud and busy it must be in the summer with all those beds full and bags everywhere.  Bruno and I took about three beds each, drying out our stuff, spreading out our toiletries, and taking turns in the bathroom’s shower area without having to get dressed in the stall.  On the downside, there were a lot less people on the route to talk to and not people hanging out in the albergues.  

Sunday, January 19 Day 7- Valenca to Tui to O Porrino 25.7km/16miles

Bruno and I left right at 9am. The old fortress that was right next to the albergue was the first thing we walked to.  I lost Bruno in there, knowing he liked fortresses from his Army days and would be stopping lots to take YouTube videos and pictures.  I didn’t see him for the rest of the day, although when I lost him, I never thought he was THAT far behind me, so when I ran into the German couple from Rubiaes, and they asked where Bruno was, I said he was right behind me, little did I know he would be hours behind me by the end of the day.  

It was a beautiful day and also an actual trail rather than cobblestones or pavement which is much harder on your feet. Then I crossed the bridge into Tui, Spain, walked along the river for a bit. At one point the path split in two. I took the “complimentary” path, which I had quickly googled was more of a trail and nature.  

I arrived at the albergue in O Porrino at 3:30pm and the sign on the door says they open at 3pm, but no one is there. After sitting outside in the sun for a bit, I googled other places to stay and found a nearby hostel for 10Euros a night. The girl at the hostel tells me the albergue is closed for the winter.  I am pretty sure Bruno is never going to find me here, but shoot him a message for when he gets wifi again and think maybe we’ll meet in the future.  

This hostel is so nice, with sheets, a blanket, a bedside lamp, and a curtain over the bed, it’s amazing, but my level of luxury shot way up.  I even went back out and walked through the town looking to see if I could see Bruno coming into the village and tell him the public albergue was closed, but I didn’t see him.  I was making some more hard boiled eggs when all the sudden Bruno comes up to the door. I go to let him as it’s a buzzer system with the front desk.  He is just as surprised as I am that we’ve found each other! The girl at the front desk was already gone by the time he arrives at 5:30pm so I just show him an empty bed, since even though there were more people here than most places, there are still a lot of empty beds.  The girl ends up coming back due to another customer’s issue with his room.  Bruno ended up hiding on the bed behind the curtain and never had to pay, although we split the share of my bed.  

I have found that 25km is a good distance for a day.  Too much more is exhausting, and much less you feel unaccomplished.  However, now in Spain, there’s very little options for where to stay, so we’re pretty much stuck doing about 20km for the rest of the journey.  

Monday, January 20 Day 8- O Porrino to Mos to Redonela 18km/11.25miles

Bruno’s foot was bothering him, so he stayed at the hostel in the morning to ice his foot down.  I was starting out very slow every morning as my muscles needed to loosen up.  I stopped by a sign and took a couple timer-pics to show I had less than 100km to go.

About 15 minutes later, this Kiwi woman came up behind me and we walked the rest of the day together, which made it go by so fast. She had a lot less stuff than I did, as she had her bag shipped and was staying in hotels along the way that were organized for her by a tour company, which just goes to show that there are so many different types of pilgrims and everyone can do it. It was great talking with her, as she grew up in Dunedin, where I did a semester of university.  We ate lunch together in Redonela, and by the time we were finishing Bruno was arriving, so she met him after hearing me talk about him all day.  She then continued onto Arcade where her bag was waiting for her.  

There are a few other people in our albergue, Lucasz (Polish) and Viktor (Spanish) and another guy we never saw. I did my laundry in the washing machine and dryer here, which was very nice to wear some clean clothes again! There was also a festival happening outside of our albergue, so around 8pm, a large parade of people went by with horns and drums and people dressed in Catholic robes.   Tuesday, January 21 Day 9- Redonela to Soutomaier to Arcade to Ponteverde 21km/13.3miles

I started without Bruno again, but this time told him which albergue I’d be going to.  I left around 8am thought I was going very slow, even though I never saw anyone from the albergue in Redonela pass me.  I ran into Lynn, the Kiwi, during the last 5km and we walked the rest of the way together.  

I was the first to arrive at this albergue, and it wasn’t even open.  This strange man with rainbow colored hair came over and started to crack my back and give me a shoulder massage.  It was all very weird, but also felt good.  As soon as I was able to check in, I went to walk around the village and to a grocery store to pick up some food for dinner and lunch the next day.  By the time I got back to the albergue, there were a lot more people, with Bruno, Viktor, and Lucasz being three of them.  I got another massage from Luis, also known as Rainbow Hair Man by our group and fell asleep very early.

Wednesday, January 22 Day 10- Ponteverde to Caldes de Reis 27km/17miles

I left the hostel around 8:40am and it was just getting light out due to the one hour time change we had when we entered Spain. The Brazilians (a husband and wife and their friend) left around the same time and I walked shortly behind them for most of the day.  They didn’t speak much English.  Luis, Rainbow Hair Man, was also walking with us in the beginning, and I kept thinking he must just be showing his Brazilian friends how to get through the town, and then he just kept walking, and walking, all while not carrying anything, not even water, and just in his tie-dye hoodie, elephant pants, and flip flops all the way to Caldes de Reis.

Since I was walking alone, I decided to listen to two “How I Built This” episodes.  These really helped the time to go by quickly.  

I arrived to the albergue around 2:30pm, again before anyone else. The Brazilians, I saw went into another place for the night.  After walking around for a little bit, I went back to the albergue, and Viktor and Bruno were outside.  I mentioned to Bruno that he could probably sneak into this one too if he wanted to. He left and came back a little later for me to sneak him in. Then out of nowhere, the guy that had checked me in came up to the four bedroom apartment and started knocking on doors to find the pilgrim that had snuck in.  Bruno fessed up and went down to pay.  The rest of our “crew” was there- 1 Czech girl (Kate), 1 German girl (Victoria), Viktor and Lucasz. We sat around having dinner in a very cramped kitchen.  

Thursday, January 23 Day 11- Caldes de Reis to Padron 21km/13miles

I am almost there! I walked alone again today and took some breaks just to sit as my legs were tired. At this point, I was taking ibuprofen every morning just to get through the initial pain of my stiff muscles and blisters on my feet.   

This town was bigger than most, but still quite small.  There was a man that owned a bar on the corner that watches the pilgrims come in and has them all sign a book.  He has dozens of filled books from the pilgrims and tons of country/El Camino memorabilia from people—shells, pennants, flags, pictures, etc. I walked around town with Viktor for a little bit, and got a couple extra stamps from the cathedral and bar man.  

I booked three nights in a hostel in Santiago when I got to the albergue around 2pm. I’m excited to have a sheet on the bed with a blanket. Everyone from our group and the Brazilians are in this albergue, along with some new people, as this is the last big albergue before Santiago.

Friday, January 24 Day 12- Padron to Santiago de Compostela 29km/18miles

Bruno and I agreed we would walk the last day together.  I, of course, was waiting for him to leave at the time we had agreed on, but alas we left at about 8:50am. Nothing too exciting happened along the walk, except that we were excited to arrive in Santiago.  The last two hours my knee really started to bother me and I took more ibuprofen.  I knew I could rest in Santiago once we arrived and pushed through the pain to the end. 

Santiago de Compostela is a big enough city and the arrows pointing us on the right path had been there at every point along the last 280km, until the very last two kilometers when I had to pull out my map just to get us to the Cathedral.  We actually had to ask someone for directions. And then we came up to the side of the Cathedral and were impressed and stopped to take pictures and I was ready to collapse.  Bruno wanted to keep going around the corner and after being dragged around the corner, I was like, “Oh, this is it!” Victoria and Kate were sitting on square in front of the Cathedral and I joined them while Bruno had a moment with God. Victor arrived shortly after with food and then the Brazilians came and we cheered them on.  It was nice to have our group together and we sat in the sun for hours together admiring the Cathedral, chatting, and drinking some beers to celebrate.  Then we went to the office to get our official certificates of completion.  Apparently, you can wait for hours in line to get your “passport” checked and receive your certificate.  We were the only people there and it took no more than five minutes for all five of us to get our certificates.   Then we went into the Cathedral, which is currently undergoing renovations, but we were still able to see some stuff inside despite a lot of scaffolding. We went in groups as they didn’t allow big bags. Kate then left for her Couchsurfing host’s place.  The rest of us went onto my hostel, where they also booked beds for the night. We then all freshened up and went to the grocery store to make dinner.  We decided to do a group dinner. Viktor made a Spanish omelet, Victoria made a salad, I made fudge for dessert, and Bruno was in charge of beer and wine.  We had cheese and crackers, a seafood pastry, and chips, so by the end, we each spent 12 Euros and were stuffed. We ran into Lucasz on the way back from Cathedral tour and he met us for the beginning of the dinner, but then had to go.  Kate and her couchsurfing host came for part of dinner too and then we all went on a tour of Santiago at night with her host. I was exhausted and crashed right after the tour while Victoria, Bruno, and Viktor continued to stay out.   Saturday In the morning, we did more of the same, walked around Santiago, sat in front of the Cathedral talking. It was bittersweet and it felt like we had accomplished so much.  In the end, I thought it could have been a metaphor of life: There were no signs to point you in the right direction, no cared that we had just walked 280 kilometers to get there, and we enter from the back of the Cathedral, not at all anticipating that. At the end of the day, I walked Victoria and Bruno to the bus station for them to go back to what just took us 12 days to walk, on a three-hour bus.  

Sunday I walked more around Santiago by myself. Ate some delicious Churros con Chocolate and then for dinner had some grilled octopus, Puplo Gallego. I ran into Viktor, who was now joined by his girlfriend for the weekend. And we agreed to meet up when I went to Madrid the next day, which is where he was from. Then I just hung out in the hostel with this girl, Naty who was studying in Santiago for the semester on an exchange program.  

[familyvisionis2020]

Day 5 - Huntsville

Jeremy’s up the earliest and sends a text to us that he’s getting breakfast with Noah at a place called the Grit. Rather than opt to join I just post up on the porch with Trey and indulge in a long long blog post.The weather is cooler and grayer, joggers and dog-walkers and kids on bikes roll down the streets, slow syrupy sunday morning, humidity and gristle, butter pats wouldn’t melt if you left them out on your plate but they wouldn’t be too taut to sink your teeth into. I feel a fundamental sense of repair from typing, reviving a column of spirit I’d quietly suffocated, knock loose a clot of rust in my clockwork and the machinery is humming along again. Now that I have the link to the blog to share to people I feel like I’m gingerly handing the missing puzzle piece to my patrons and well-wishers and companions, indulging a curiosity and rounding something out to myself that might prove the regard and sensitivity my quietness can bely, might be a kindness or a service to people who find me austere or impenetrable or bristly. I was staring at a picture of a cactus and identifying with it the other day, tall, two arms, tiny head, spiky, full of water, not so bad if you’re careful with them, just like me. 

Later tonight I will watch Tired Frontier play the last set of their tiny tour with us and what will end up being our last show of the tour as well. Watching the face of the guys I see things so so different then when I saw them for the first time, when they were complete strangers, tourmates but sight unseen. What I saw in their faces the first time I saw them play: Royal is tall and broad-shouldered and country and active and maybe a little sloppy and expanive and reminds me a ton of my friend Mike, so I have love for him off the bat, also his weird tuning and rococo pedal board setup and heedless mustache and you know, wife, set off little clockworks of insecurity in me and my mind props up baseless criticisms of him sourced solely from my ignorance of him. After three shows we are not friends but I know him much better, have seen him from more angles, have a better sense of him, he loves doing bits and laughs high and loud and chills endlessly, in this way he matches the tone and cadence of Kabir magnificently. Paul is beautiful and has a face like a svelter Jim Carrey and kneads the keyboard effortlessly, digital dough, his fingers are narrow and elegant and move only enough to play the next keys, the same sort of parsimony of motion I used to see from chefs with expert knife skills. I envy his bouny raven thick-sable hair. Trey looks plainly joyful when he plays drums. He extends his crash cymbal hardware to the maximum length so his crash is preposterously high up. I can’t discern a reason other than it’s kind of fun or different. He’s enthusiastic about my writing, I get to share him some other work I’ve done, he says he loves it, I swell with gratitude and we exchange emails.

The morning in Athens goes more or less like the morning before: me and Kabir and John and Paul all go get breakfast at Donderos’ again, drink tea and coffee, pack up our stuff. We take some group photos with both bands outside on the porch with the orbs and they’re cute and silly. Kabir flipped a coin to decide whether me or John drives the next stretch, it’s me, I’m a little apprehensive because I haven’t driven a 15-passenger van in awhile, but once I’m in it’s like riding a bike, I have muscle memory of driving big vehicles from U-Haul trips and, before that, the box truck I drove to transport food donations to the pantry of the Servant Center in Greensboro. I’m a good driver, I check my mirrors, I put on a halloween mix I made in 2015 and I am feeling myself, focused, caffienated, surrounded by friends, there’s some clouds in the sky and drizzles but it’s not bad and we’re making good time. The boys just listen along with me to the DJ mix for awhile then start up a new crossword puzzle and we all 4 do it collaboratively, one person describing the clue, letters, cross-clues, and we brainstorm for answers, between the four of us we’re really good at this, and we’re all laughing and in great spirits as we methodically complete the puzzle. We stop in Marietta Georgia at one point to use the bathroom, we stop at a KFC with a 20-foot mechanized/animatronic chicken head whose eyes roll back in its head and whose giant beak opens and closes in regular time like a campy pendulum. I buy a postcard and a souveneir cup from here because I think my Mom has family from Marietta Georgia but when we’re back in the car I can’t remember if it’s Marietta Georgia or Marietta Ohio, but I figure it will be well-received either way. We get back on the road and now we’re off the highway and onto some more remote state routes and we pass into Alabama and the rain lets up but its still overcast so the light is gentle and diffuse, the hills are rolling, we pass a colony of tiny homes, weird, livestock, bulls with giant horns that when I see them I just say ‘aurochs’ absent mindedly, livestock and cotton fields and when we see police someone will just say ‘ops’ and the whole drive everyone is just in a good mood, making jokes, kind and breezy. I marvel at how these boys do not seem to carry the same sort of darkness I feel I do, or maybe they just don’t wear it on their sleeves, or maybe none of them are neurodivergent or addicted or traumatized, or maybe they are but hide it well, or have coped and healed…something I’m used to is being around people who require a space to talk about extremely serious and heavy and heartbraking things. Maybe it’s a vestige of a lifestyle I’ve left behind. In all the time I’ve spent with Kabir and Jeremy and John and David (our NC bassist who plays home shows when Jeremy is in NY), I’ve never seen anyone come close to losing their temper, yelling, crying, crumbling, whatever. I marvel at the putative stability of my friends. I like having stable friends, I like having a stable life, it’s not how my life has always been. There is a level of tranquility and calm that washes over me while I’m driving through rural Alabama with my stable friends in a well-maintained van in my healthy body wrapped around a heart that is not broken and a mind that feels as clear and capable as it has ever been. Grace is unearned, I’m told.

We make it to Huntsville on time, the venue is called the Salty Nut, kind of a spacious and tidy bar with a kind bartender my height but with a double thick country accent and the show booker is slight and soft spoken and exceedingly kind, he receives us and then points us in the direction of a nearby restaurant called Banditos Burritos. The restaurant is festooned with vaguely southwestern or hispanic decorations and also random camp like a dirty 1990s Bart Simpson doll, a ruined acoustic guitar, a King Khan poster, a garden gnome on an old-fashioned scale with the sliding thing, a skateboard without trucks painted with a sleeping cactus person wearing a sombrero, etc. The people there are so so nice and when we say we are playing the Salty Nut tonight the guy behind the counter explains that menu items with steak and all beers will cost, but otherwise we can order whatever we want for free. We get burritos, nachos, beans, rice, salsa, hot sauce, ice water in a paper cup. We feast, scarf down, all hungrier than we realized, it’s essentially a non-franchise Taco Bell by my appraisal, which is absolutely perfect as far as I’m concerned, the beans and rice feel good and substantial. Tired Frontier shows up a little after us, gets the same stuff basically, we eat and laugh and finish and go back to the venue and wait around for awhile, I join Jeremy and Royal outside skateboarding and act crazy and try to film them doing tricks but my phone dies and and eventually they stop and we go inside and set up and play. The show goes fine, TF sounds as good as they have so far. They’re playing to a crowd of the other two bands and maybe 8 people in the bar sitting at a table eating food they brought over for Banditos Burritos. The show is fine, unremarkable. When we play, I do the usual routine of trying to play my hardest and with my whole body, and end up dropping sticks more than once and missing some snare hits and not being able to keep up on the driving floor tom parts, mostly because I’m not warmed up and maybe not focusing enough, I’m letting myself get a little carried away trying to play hard and fast rather than keep things tight, I worry this may miff the other guys but after the show there is no indication that anyone even noticed it or cared. There was a cool part where I dropped a stick but instead of it falling to the floor it bounced around on top of the snare and tom and I managed to snatch it out of mid air and keep playing and Jeremy noticed that and that made me feel cool. We played hard and to my ear we got good claps between songs, we are pretty live and high energy and I think even if people don’t like our sound they appreciate the energy, but also some of the songs are earworms and catchy and people like that too, I’ve heard. We finish, the other drummer from the other band, Golden Flakes, says great set man, we perch at the merch table but sell nothng. We listen to Golden Flakes play for close to an hour, very jam band vibe, many many guitar solos, kind of sloppy, sort of high energy rock and roll I guess, I by this time am tired and pretty disinterested, get on my phone for most of it. Toward the end of their sets someone who I assume is a townie is drunk and heckling them between songs in a way that they are clearly fine with and they know the guy and to me for some reason he looks the way I imagine the way the protagonist John from Shit Town the podcast would look. We are in Alabama after all. He sounds like John (not from our band, from the podcast). He’s annoying and I’m being judgy in my head about him when I should maybe feel sorry or indifferent, idk. It feels sad to me, I don’t feel like writing more about it. It’s awkward enough, the heckling and banter from Golden Flakes, that by the end of the set we all kind of joke-rush out of there, quietly agreeing that what’s happening is awkward and unpleasant and we should go. We get put up in Thomas’s apartment, and on on the ride home the guys talk about how Huntsville’s claim to fame is being the place where the Nazi engineers taken during Operation Paperclip were taken after WW2, whose skills were put to use developing rockets, and that all manner of testing has taken place in and around the nearby military base, the Redstone Arsenal. Kabir tells a story about how a nuclear warhead was dropped on NC and by freak chance did not detonate. It would have wiped out the population of the entire Southeast. I didn’t believe it but you can read about it here:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1961_Goldsboro_B-52_crash?wprov=sfti1

At the apartment I make a b-line for the couch, get my sleeping stuff out, eat an apple and a banana and a bunch of peanut butter out the jar and go to sleep. At the end of every day I feel so much more irritable and grumpy than I do at other times. I still really treasure a quiet space all to myself to sleep in and so this troubles that. But I just listen to a youtube video on European history, learn nothing, and have no dreams I remember.

[mrrolandtfranco]

15 Most Romantic Cabin Getaways According To Travelers

Secluded cabin rental for two? Step right this way for tried and tested romantic destinations where love is most definitely in the air.

Romantic Cabin Getaways Loved By Travelers

Reviews tell us a lot about the kind of vacations a destination is good for. So when we were looking for some of the best places for romantic cabin getaways, we checked what travelers had to say. At FlipKey (part of the TripAdvisor family), we used a special algorithm to analyze every single TripAdvisor review, identifying which locations across America had the highest percentage of reviews mentioning romance. What’s left are some of the top romantic cabin getaways that travelers rave about—each boasting secluded cabin rentals available to book on FlipKey. No matter the season, these inviting destinations make excellent retreats for couples in need of some time away together.

There’s no doubt that a cabin makes a pretty romantic setting, whether it’s nestled high up in the mountains or perched on a cliff by the sea. When you book a secluded cabin rental with FlipKey, you get the whole property and its amenities to yourselves, so you can take your morning coffee on a private porch, in a scenic garden, or tucked up in bed with a jaw-dropping view.

Here are 15 traveler favorites for romantic cabin getaways, from red-rocked desert towns to pretty lakeside villages.

Jenner, California

A couple of hours’ drive away from the throng of San Francisco on a rugged stretch of Cali coast is where you’ll find lovely Jenner. This coastal village is ripe for seal-spotting, beach-combing, and uninterrupted ocean-gazing, and it’s one of the quieter spots featured in this list. Peace at last.

See all FlipKey rentals in Jenner!

Saugatuck, Michigan

“This home exceeded our high expectations. First, the view took my breath away; it never got old. The elevation and combination of door walls, windows and screened porch off the back and side of the home provide a treehouse atmosphere, while cozy woodwork and furnishings convey warmth. We spent many hours sitting in the screen porch enjoying the sounds of birds and crickets chirping.” — FlipKey Reviewer

On the shores of Lake Michigan stands the small town of Saugatuck. Leave your stresses at the door of your rental—it’s time to relax. You can chill out on Oval Beach, hike across Saugatuck Dunes State Park, or browse the little art galleries in town. Alternatively, you could simply go from cabin to beach to cabin every day, making the most of your time out together.

See all FlipKey rentals in Saugatuck!

Logan, Ohio

Here’s another beautifully quiet place to hole up in a secluded cabin hideaway. When you’re ready to venture out, try a gentle forest walk in Lake Logan State Park or go boating on a lake full of catfish. At nearby Hocking Hills State Park, don’t miss the atmospheric Rock House, Ash Cave, and Cedar Falls.

See all FlipKey rentals in Logan!

Hood River, Oregon

“The house is perfect for a family or a couple looking for a centrally located place to stay with gorgeous views of the Gorge. It’s comfy and walking distance to eateries and local grocery stores. Can’t really ask for more than that. Nicely equipped for our needs along with a garage spot and laundry. We’re already looking at dates for a summer visit so we can enjoy the deck and a wonderful glass of wine.” — FlipKey Reviewer

Hood River ticks all the boxes for romantic cabin getaways, with the scenic Columbia River flowing by, plenty of hiking trails for long walks, and picnic stops for undisturbed lunches for two. There are also plenty of good places to eat here, with farm-fresh food lending a truly local touch.

See all FlipKey rentals in Hood River!

Manitou Springs, Colorado

People used to come to Manitou Springs to drink the naturally carbonated mineral water, thought to have healing powers. You can still taste it today, but if you’re here for romance, you’ll probably want to chug along taking in the views from the Pikes Peak Cog Railway. Here, the highest cog train in the world will take you up through a romantic landscape of rocky terrain and pine forest, finishing with gorgeous views over the Great Plains. Don’t miss the amazing Manitou Cliff Dwellings, preserved Anasazi homes full of artifacts to explore.

See all FlipKey rentals in Manitou Springs!

Big Sur, California

Not many people, plenty of space, and uninterrupted Pacific views. Sounds pretty romantic to us. Just book your private cabin and you’re all set for the couple’s trip of a lifetime. Driving the coastal road along this breathtaking stretch of California is up there with our all-time favorite activities—do make a stop to snap the famous Bixby Bridge in all its glory.

See all FlipKey rentals in Big Sur!

Aspen, Colorado

“Very gracious family home. We had a wonderful time. This home had everything for amenities.” — FlipKey Reviewer

It’s easy to see why so many couples choose Aspen for their romantic cabin getaways. Take a horse and carriage ride, ascend the mountain on the Silver Queen Gondola for awe-inspiring views, or book your places on the Aspen Cooking School’s culinary course for couples. We’re sure your first visit won’t be your last.

See all FlipKey rentals in Aspen!

Mendocino, California

Discover the towering Redwoods, ocean views, and Victorian seaside homes of pretty Mendocino. There are beaches and walking paths to wander at Mendocino Headlands State Park, plus some charming villages to visit in the surrounding area. Just up the road is Fort Bragg, with its glistening Glass Beach and the Skunk Train chugging gently through the forest.

See all FlipKey rentals in Mendocino!

Dahlonega, Georgia

This is gold-rush territory, so you may want to start your visit at the fascinating Dahlonega Gold Museum, before wading into the river to pan for some of the sparkly stuff yourselves. After that, explore the pleasant historic center, which welcomes you in for romantic wanderings among its 19th-century structures.

See all FlipKey rentals in Dahlonega!

Luray, Virginia

“We love it. The yard is huge with 2 types of grills and a fire pit. The view is phenomenal. The interior is beautiful. The owner is very nice and easy to work with.” — FlipKey Reviewer

This is the cabin capital of Virginia, so you’re in the right place for a romantic cabin retreat. Luray is set in the spectacular Shenandoah Valley, so you can set off to fish and hike in Shenandoah National Park or paddle on the river. A visit to the atmospheric Luray Caverns is a must, with its lofty caverns and huge natural rock formations, all beautifully lit for visitors.

See all FlipKey rentals in Luray!

Blowing Rock, North Carolina

This area is rich in cozy cabins with glorious views. From spelunking to spa days, there’s plenty to keep couples entertained. Be sure to motor along the Blue Ridge Parkway with the top down for the ultimate romantic drive. Stop off along the way at the curious Blowing Rock itself, which directs the mountain winds upwards.

See all FlipKey rentals in Blowing Rock!

Stowe, Vermont

The mountain resort of Stowe is stunning throughout the seasons, whether you’re here to ski, leaf-peep, or simply escape the daily grind. This is one for the outdoorsy types, so peel yourselves out of your secluded cabin rental and get involved in the season’s activities. Finish up the day with an intimate meal, accompanied by remarkable alpine views, at the Austrian-style Cliff House Restaurant.

See all FlipKey rentals in Stowe!

Lake George, New York

The lake is the focal point of romantic cabin getaways in Lake George, so be sure to board a traditional steamboat for a daytime tour of the shore, or, even better, a romantic dinner cruise when the sun goes down. Take a drive or hike up Prospect Mountain for unbeatable views of the surrounding area, or set off to the Natural Stone Bridge and Caves to see the largest marble cave in the east.

See all FlipKey rentals in Lake George!

Leavenworth, Washington

Leavenworth is utterly charming all year round, with its Bavarian character and warm welcome. Enjoy horse-drawn carriage rides through town in the spring, sleigh rides through the snow in the winter, and wine-tasting sessions whatever the weather. Simply heaven.

See all FlipKey rentals in Leavenworth!

Sedona, Arizona

“We had everything we needed here for a comfy stay and we loved the location just minutes from Bell Rock trail and convenient to attractions, food and whatever you want to do in Sedona. The beds were comfy, the home was stocked with pots and pans and dishes, coffee and tea, plenty of towels, bedding and wifi.” — FlipKey Reviewer

Ok, ok, you won’t actually find a wealth of cabin rentals here in sunny Sedona. But this place scored way too highly on the travelers’ romance scale to be left out of this list. Whatever kind of rental you choose, expect a scenic desert town bordered with pine forests and imposing red rock. You can enjoy this striking landscape on a jeep tour, or head out just the two of you to catch some sun and slip down the natural water slide at Slide Rock State Park.

See all FlipKey rentals in Sedona!

The post 15 Most Romantic Cabin Getaways According To Travelers appeared first on The FlipKey Blog.

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[janerchambers88]

15 Most Romantic Cabin Getaways According To Travelers

Secluded cabin rental for two? Step right this way for tried and tested romantic destinations where love is most definitely in the air.

Romantic Cabin Getaways Loved By Travelers

Reviews tell us a lot about the kind of vacations a destination is good for. So when we were looking for some of the best places for romantic cabin getaways, we checked what travelers had to say. At FlipKey (part of the TripAdvisor family), we used a special algorithm to analyze every single TripAdvisor review, identifying which locations across America had the highest percentage of reviews mentioning romance. What’s left are some of the top romantic cabin getaways that travelers rave about—each boasting secluded cabin rentals available to book on FlipKey. No matter the season, these inviting destinations make excellent retreats for couples in need of some time away together.

There’s no doubt that a cabin makes a pretty romantic setting, whether it’s nestled high up in the mountains or perched on a cliff by the sea. When you book a secluded cabin rental with FlipKey, you get the whole property and its amenities to yourselves, so you can take your morning coffee on a private porch, in a scenic garden, or tucked up in bed with a jaw-dropping view.

Here are 15 traveler favorites for romantic cabin getaways, from red-rocked desert towns to pretty lakeside villages.

Jenner, California

A couple of hours’ drive away from the throng of San Francisco on a rugged stretch of Cali coast is where you’ll find lovely Jenner. This coastal village is ripe for seal-spotting, beach-combing, and uninterrupted ocean-gazing, and it’s one of the quieter spots featured in this list. Peace at last.

See all FlipKey rentals in Jenner!

Saugatuck, Michigan

“This home exceeded our high expectations. First, the view took my breath away; it never got old. The elevation and combination of door walls, windows and screened porch off the back and side of the home provide a treehouse atmosphere, while cozy woodwork and furnishings convey warmth. We spent many hours sitting in the screen porch enjoying the sounds of birds and crickets chirping.” — FlipKey Reviewer

On the shores of Lake Michigan stands the small town of Saugatuck. Leave your stresses at the door of your rental—it’s time to relax. You can chill out on Oval Beach, hike across Saugatuck Dunes State Park, or browse the little art galleries in town. Alternatively, you could simply go from cabin to beach to cabin every day, making the most of your time out together.

See all FlipKey rentals in Saugatuck!

Logan, Ohio

Here’s another beautifully quiet place to hole up in a secluded cabin hideaway. When you’re ready to venture out, try a gentle forest walk in Lake Logan State Park or go boating on a lake full of catfish. At nearby Hocking Hills State Park, don’t miss the atmospheric Rock House, Ash Cave, and Cedar Falls.

See all FlipKey rentals in Logan!

Hood River, Oregon

“The house is perfect for a family or a couple looking for a centrally located place to stay with gorgeous views of the Gorge. It’s comfy and walking distance to eateries and local grocery stores. Can’t really ask for more than that. Nicely equipped for our needs along with a garage spot and laundry. We’re already looking at dates for a summer visit so we can enjoy the deck and a wonderful glass of wine.” — FlipKey Reviewer

Hood River ticks all the boxes for romantic cabin getaways, with the scenic Columbia River flowing by, plenty of hiking trails for long walks, and picnic stops for undisturbed lunches for two. There are also plenty of good places to eat here, with farm-fresh food lending a truly local touch.

See all FlipKey rentals in Hood River!

Manitou Springs, Colorado

People used to come to Manitou Springs to drink the naturally carbonated mineral water, thought to have healing powers. You can still taste it today, but if you’re here for romance, you’ll probably want to chug along taking in the views from the Pikes Peak Cog Railway. Here, the highest cog train in the world will take you up through a romantic landscape of rocky terrain and pine forest, finishing with gorgeous views over the Great Plains. Don’t miss the amazing Manitou Cliff Dwellings, preserved Anasazi homes full of artifacts to explore.

See all FlipKey rentals in Manitou Springs!

Big Sur, California

Not many people, plenty of space, and uninterrupted Pacific views. Sounds pretty romantic to us. Just book your private cabin and you’re all set for the couple’s trip of a lifetime. Driving the coastal road along this breathtaking stretch of California is up there with our all-time favorite activities—do make a stop to snap the famous Bixby Bridge in all its glory.

See all FlipKey rentals in Big Sur!

Aspen, Colorado

“Very gracious family home. We had a wonderful time. This home had everything for amenities.” — FlipKey Reviewer

It’s easy to see why so many couples choose Aspen for their romantic cabin getaways. Take a horse and carriage ride, ascend the mountain on the Silver Queen Gondola for awe-inspiring views, or book your places on the Aspen Cooking School’s culinary course for couples. We’re sure your first visit won’t be your last.

See all FlipKey rentals in Aspen!

Mendocino, California

Discover the towering Redwoods, ocean views, and Victorian seaside homes of pretty Mendocino. There are beaches and walking paths to wander at Mendocino Headlands State Park, plus some charming villages to visit in the surrounding area. Just up the road is Fort Bragg, with its glistening Glass Beach and the Skunk Train chugging gently through the forest.

See all FlipKey rentals in Mendocino!

Dahlonega, Georgia

This is gold-rush territory, so you may want to start your visit at the fascinating Dahlonega Gold Museum, before wading into the river to pan for some of the sparkly stuff yourselves. After that, explore the pleasant historic center, which welcomes you in for romantic wanderings among its 19th-century structures.

See all FlipKey rentals in Dahlonega!

Luray, Virginia

“We love it. The yard is huge with 2 types of grills and a fire pit. The view is phenomenal. The interior is beautiful. The owner is very nice and easy to work with.” — FlipKey Reviewer

This is the cabin capital of Virginia, so you’re in the right place for a romantic cabin retreat. Luray is set in the spectacular Shenandoah Valley, so you can set off to fish and hike in Shenandoah National Park or paddle on the river. A visit to the atmospheric Luray Caverns is a must, with its lofty caverns and huge natural rock formations, all beautifully lit for visitors.

See all FlipKey rentals in Luray!

Blowing Rock, North Carolina

This area is rich in cozy cabins with glorious views. From spelunking to spa days, there’s plenty to keep couples entertained. Be sure to motor along the Blue Ridge Parkway with the top down for the ultimate romantic drive. Stop off along the way at the curious Blowing Rock itself, which directs the mountain winds upwards.

See all FlipKey rentals in Blowing Rock!

Stowe, Vermont

The mountain resort of Stowe is stunning throughout the seasons, whether you’re here to ski, leaf-peep, or simply escape the daily grind. This is one for the outdoorsy types, so peel yourselves out of your secluded cabin rental and get involved in the season’s activities. Finish up the day with an intimate meal, accompanied by remarkable alpine views, at the Austrian-style Cliff House Restaurant.

See all FlipKey rentals in Stowe!

Lake George, New York

The lake is the focal point of romantic cabin getaways in Lake George, so be sure to board a traditional steamboat for a daytime tour of the shore, or, even better, a romantic dinner cruise when the sun goes down. Take a drive or hike up Prospect Mountain for unbeatable views of the surrounding area, or set off to the Natural Stone Bridge and Caves to see the largest marble cave in the east.

See all FlipKey rentals in Lake George!

Leavenworth, Washington

Leavenworth is utterly charming all year round, with its Bavarian character and warm welcome. Enjoy horse-drawn carriage rides through town in the spring, sleigh rides through the snow in the winter, and wine-tasting sessions whatever the weather. Simply heaven.

See all FlipKey rentals in Leavenworth!

Sedona, Arizona

“We had everything we needed here for a comfy stay and we loved the location just minutes from Bell Rock trail and convenient to attractions, food and whatever you want to do in Sedona. The beds were comfy, the home was stocked with pots and pans and dishes, coffee and tea, plenty of towels, bedding and wifi.” — FlipKey Reviewer

Ok, ok, you won’t actually find a wealth of cabin rentals here in sunny Sedona. But this place scored way too highly on the travelers’ romance scale to be left out of this list. Whatever kind of rental you choose, expect a scenic desert town bordered with pine forests and imposing red rock. You can enjoy this striking landscape on a jeep tour, or head out just the two of you to catch some sun and slip down the natural water slide at Slide Rock State Park.

See all FlipKey rentals in Sedona!

The post 15 Most Romantic Cabin Getaways According To Travelers appeared first on The FlipKey Blog.

[kevingbakeruk]

15 Most Romantic Cabin Getaways According To Travelers

Secluded cabin rental for two? Step right this way for tried and tested romantic destinations where love is most definitely in the air.

Romantic Cabin Getaways Loved By Travelers

Reviews tell us a lot about the kind of vacations a destination is good for. So when we were looking for some of the best places for romantic cabin getaways, we checked what travelers had to say. At FlipKey (part of the TripAdvisor family), we used a special algorithm to analyze every single TripAdvisor review, identifying which locations across America had the highest percentage of reviews mentioning romance. What’s left are some of the top romantic cabin getaways that travelers rave about—each boasting secluded cabin rentals available to book on FlipKey. No matter the season, these inviting destinations make excellent retreats for couples in need of some time away together.

There’s no doubt that a cabin makes a pretty romantic setting, whether it’s nestled high up in the mountains or perched on a cliff by the sea. When you book a secluded cabin rental with FlipKey, you get the whole property and its amenities to yourselves, so you can take your morning coffee on a private porch, in a scenic garden, or tucked up in bed with a jaw-dropping view.

Here are 15 traveler favorites for romantic cabin getaways, from red-rocked desert towns to pretty lakeside villages.

Jenner, California

A couple of hours’ drive away from the throng of San Francisco on a rugged stretch of Cali coast is where you’ll find lovely Jenner. This coastal village is ripe for seal-spotting, beach-combing, and uninterrupted ocean-gazing, and it’s one of the quieter spots featured in this list. Peace at last.

See all FlipKey rentals in Jenner!

Saugatuck, Michigan

“This home exceeded our high expectations. First, the view took my breath away; it never got old. The elevation and combination of door walls, windows and screened porch off the back and side of the home provide a treehouse atmosphere, while cozy woodwork and furnishings convey warmth. We spent many hours sitting in the screen porch enjoying the sounds of birds and crickets chirping.” — FlipKey Reviewer

On the shores of Lake Michigan stands the small town of Saugatuck. Leave your stresses at the door of your rental—it’s time to relax. You can chill out on Oval Beach, hike across Saugatuck Dunes State Park, or browse the little art galleries in town. Alternatively, you could simply go from cabin to beach to cabin every day, making the most of your time out together.

See all FlipKey rentals in Saugatuck!

Logan, Ohio

Here’s another beautifully quiet place to hole up in a secluded cabin hideaway. When you’re ready to venture out, try a gentle forest walk in Lake Logan State Park or go boating on a lake full of catfish. At nearby Hocking Hills State Park, don’t miss the atmospheric Rock House, Ash Cave, and Cedar Falls.

See all FlipKey rentals in Logan!

Hood River, Oregon

“The house is perfect for a family or a couple looking for a centrally located place to stay with gorgeous views of the Gorge. It’s comfy and walking distance to eateries and local grocery stores. Can’t really ask for more than that. Nicely equipped for our needs along with a garage spot and laundry. We’re already looking at dates for a summer visit so we can enjoy the deck and a wonderful glass of wine.” — FlipKey Reviewer

Hood River ticks all the boxes for romantic cabin getaways, with the scenic Columbia River flowing by, plenty of hiking trails for long walks, and picnic stops for undisturbed lunches for two. There are also plenty of good places to eat here, with farm-fresh food lending a truly local touch.

See all FlipKey rentals in Hood River!

Manitou Springs, Colorado

People used to come to Manitou Springs to drink the naturally carbonated mineral water, thought to have healing powers. You can still taste it today, but if you’re here for romance, you’ll probably want to chug along taking in the views from the Pikes Peak Cog Railway. Here, the highest cog train in the world will take you up through a romantic landscape of rocky terrain and pine forest, finishing with gorgeous views over the Great Plains. Don’t miss the amazing Manitou Cliff Dwellings, preserved Anasazi homes full of artifacts to explore.

See all FlipKey rentals in Manitou Springs!

Big Sur, California

Not many people, plenty of space, and uninterrupted Pacific views. Sounds pretty romantic to us. Just book your private cabin and you’re all set for the couple’s trip of a lifetime. Driving the coastal road along this breathtaking stretch of California is up there with our all-time favorite activities—do make a stop to snap the famous Bixby Bridge in all its glory.

See all FlipKey rentals in Big Sur!

Aspen, Colorado

“Very gracious family home. We had a wonderful time. This home had everything for amenities.” — FlipKey Reviewer

It’s easy to see why so many couples choose Aspen for their romantic cabin getaways. Take a horse and carriage ride, ascend the mountain on the Silver Queen Gondola for awe-inspiring views, or book your places on the Aspen Cooking School’s culinary course for couples. We’re sure your first visit won’t be your last.

See all FlipKey rentals in Aspen!

Mendocino, California

Discover the towering Redwoods, ocean views, and Victorian seaside homes of pretty Mendocino. There are beaches and walking paths to wander at Mendocino Headlands State Park, plus some charming villages to visit in the surrounding area. Just up the road is Fort Bragg, with its glistening Glass Beach and the Skunk Train chugging gently through the forest.

See all FlipKey rentals in Mendocino!

Dahlonega, Georgia

This is gold-rush territory, so you may want to start your visit at the fascinating Dahlonega Gold Museum, before wading into the river to pan for some of the sparkly stuff yourselves. After that, explore the pleasant historic center, which welcomes you in for romantic wanderings among its 19th-century structures.

See all FlipKey rentals in Dahlonega!

Luray, Virginia

“We love it. The yard is huge with 2 types of grills and a fire pit. The view is phenomenal. The interior is beautiful. The owner is very nice and easy to work with.” — FlipKey Reviewer

This is the cabin capital of Virginia, so you’re in the right place for a romantic cabin retreat. Luray is set in the spectacular Shenandoah Valley, so you can set off to fish and hike in Shenandoah National Park or paddle on the river. A visit to the atmospheric Luray Caverns is a must, with its lofty caverns and huge natural rock formations, all beautifully lit for visitors.

See all FlipKey rentals in Luray!

Blowing Rock, North Carolina

This area is rich in cozy cabins with glorious views. From spelunking to spa days, there’s plenty to keep couples entertained. Be sure to motor along the Blue Ridge Parkway with the top down for the ultimate romantic drive. Stop off along the way at the curious Blowing Rock itself, which directs the mountain winds upwards.

See all FlipKey rentals in Blowing Rock!

Stowe, Vermont

The mountain resort of Stowe is stunning throughout the seasons, whether you’re here to ski, leaf-peep, or simply escape the daily grind. This is one for the outdoorsy types, so peel yourselves out of your secluded cabin rental and get involved in the season’s activities. Finish up the day with an intimate meal, accompanied by remarkable alpine views, at the Austrian-style Cliff House Restaurant.

See all FlipKey rentals in Stowe!

Lake George, New York

The lake is the focal point of romantic cabin getaways in Lake George, so be sure to board a traditional steamboat for a daytime tour of the shore, or, even better, a romantic dinner cruise when the sun goes down. Take a drive or hike up Prospect Mountain for unbeatable views of the surrounding area, or set off to the Natural Stone Bridge and Caves to see the largest marble cave in the east.

See all FlipKey rentals in Lake George!

Leavenworth, Washington

Leavenworth is utterly charming all year round, with its Bavarian character and warm welcome. Enjoy horse-drawn carriage rides through town in the spring, sleigh rides through the snow in the winter, and wine-tasting sessions whatever the weather. Simply heaven.

See all FlipKey rentals in Leavenworth!

Sedona, Arizona

“We had everything we needed here for a comfy stay and we loved the location just minutes from Bell Rock trail and convenient to attractions, food and whatever you want to do in Sedona. The beds were comfy, the home was stocked with pots and pans and dishes, coffee and tea, plenty of towels, bedding and wifi.” — FlipKey Reviewer

Ok, ok, you won’t actually find a wealth of cabin rentals here in sunny Sedona. But this place scored way too highly on the travelers’ romance scale to be left out of this list. Whatever kind of rental you choose, expect a scenic desert town bordered with pine forests and imposing red rock. You can enjoy this striking landscape on a jeep tour, or head out just the two of you to catch some sun and slip down the natural water slide at Slide Rock State Park.

See all FlipKey rentals in Sedona!

The post 15 Most Romantic Cabin Getaways According To Travelers appeared first on The FlipKey Blog.

from Tips For Traveling https://www.flipkey.com/blog/2017/12/04/romantic-cabin-getaways-secluded-rentals/

[ckgalloway]

A trip to the Siwa Oasis in Egypt

We turn away from the coast and cross an invisible line between green and orange. The UK government advises against all but essential travel here. We are about halfway into our seven-hour-drive from Alexandria to Siwa, an oasis in the Sahara Desert. The landscape changes subtly as we drive, scrubby bushes getting thinner and scarcer. The desert is a flat rocky floor, stretching until the curve of the earth hides it from view.

Every so often we are stopped at a checkpoint and our passports are examined by soldier. Turrets with guns overlook us. As we approach Siwa, a few trees appear, then fields of palm trees. The sand coloured dessert is broken by the blue of the lakes. Salt sheets edge the lake like ice.

My excitement grows as we turn into our lodge, the Talist Ecolodge and Farm. The colour of the buildings matches the wind-carved sandstone hills behind it. A still pool mirrors the landscape. The tranquility is somewhat marred by the persistence of flies, and we retreat to the screened-in porch.

Within minutes of our arrival, the kids are all off exploring. Our son, Oscar, and the two children of Lou and Andy, our travelling companions. They find caves, sand hills, and petrified shells, when this desert was a sea bed. They proudly take me on a tour of the caves. I’m told they are named first cave, second cave, third cave and fourth cave. Evidently they are saving their imagination for games involving dragons and other fantasies. Jemima shows me a magic trick where she disappears into one crack and appears out of another. 

Our hut is simple but comfortable. There is no electricity so we go to bed soon after nightfall. At night I can hear the wind in the trees and feel the cool breeze on my skin and I’m feel like we are camping.

Breakfast on the second day is felafel and foul, eggs and bread, and a cheese and tomato mixture. Before our afternoon desert tour, we head into Siwa town. There are many men and children, but not many women. The women are at home. The few we do see are fully covered. Their faces are hidden by loose black cloth and they are hooded and draped in more fabric. Their garb is vaguely sinister, reminiscent of the wraiths from Lord of the Rings. My eyes slide off them uneasily, I feel like they don’t want to be seen. It’s hard to imagine that regular women ore under all that fabric.

Most of the people we come across are friendly, we are greeted with smiles. "Mumkin soura, low samaht," I ask. Can I take a photo please. Aywa, yes. I'm given a good luck scarab at a shop where I perused without making a purchase. Life is unhurried here, tourists welcome.

We drive through town again on our way to the desert with our tour guide Ibrahim and his son. On our way to the desert, Ibrahim waves at most of the people we pass. Young boys in pairs or groups drive donkey-drawn wagons down the streets. Down an alley we see a small boy hit a smaller girl with a stick. “La! La!” Ibrahim shout out the window. No, No. I think this is a small town where everyone look out for each other, where the adults are parents to all the children.

At the edge of the desert Ibrahim’s son takes some air out of the tires. Soon we are speeding along the sand, revelling in the slip and slide of the vehicle. We go up a steep dune and pause on the the narrow edge. Then we are plunging down, fast. The vehicles fills with gasps, laughs, screams and low exclamations. I laugh, maniacally, a huge grin splitting my face. 

We come to a stop and the kids are out, running. They climb a dune and run back down, laughing and falling. I marvel at the smooth wavy line where the sides of sand meet. This is the desert of movies and adventures. I can imagine slow, laborious steps along the peak with the sun beating down, lips cracking and dry mouth craving water. But today it is fun, we run around and expend energy freely.  There is water in the vehicle and tea and biscuits for later.

The next stop is for sand boarding. Andy jumps on a board and pushes off. He is always first, says Lou. The guides encourage us to sit on the boards like a sled, but we are mad English people and one mad Canadian. We strap in our feet and sail down the sand like we are snowboarding, or surfing. 

I try it once. I sail down the hill, picking up speed, and bump over car tracks until one finally spills me. I fall into soft sand, unhurt, laughing. The climb up the sandy slope is another matter. The sand slips beneath my feet with each step until I make it to the top, gasping. After that I am content to watch the others play, and photograph the landscape as it changes with the light.

We stop at a hot spring pool on the way back. I would jump in with the others, but there are only men and children in the pool, the woman here are mostly veiled, so I dip my toes in the spring and wander the small oasis.

Back in the 4X4, we crest another steep hill, this time in the dimming light, and then stop and watch the sunset with small glass cups of tea and biscuits. Then it’s back to roads and slow driving and a dinner in the town. Next to our restaurant, crowds of Egyptians spill into the street watching the football match of Egypt versus Morocco. The crowd erupts into cheers and shouts when Egypt scores. I cheer along with them.

The third day we explore Shali, the old part of Siwa. The broken finger of the old town ruins reach up, as if a stone giant is poised to escape the earth. We climb up stairs and winding paths and wonder what it was like when these were rooms and people lived here. Was this a well? Could this have been a dwelling? Now, it is hard to tell.

We walk further into the other side of town. Here, the old ruins are patched up inhabited. There are no women here, no girls. A group of boys hang out on a wagon. “La, la,” they says as I lift my camera. A man sits on a stoop and his eyes follow us as we pass. A few children chase us. “Take, take,” it sounds like one boy shouts. Take a photo? Or is it Arabic? “Ana mish fahma,” I say. I don’t understand. 

The homes here edge the street and we walk softly, as if we are treading in people’s backyards. This is not a touristy area. I feel like I don’t belong here. I feel like it’s real. Then the street opens up into souvenir stalls and I am half relieved and half disappointed. 

On the fourth morning I wake up with the sunrise and take my camera to the salt shelf of the lake, stalking a patch of still water where the flat-topped hill will be reflected. I find my photo and stop, gazing at the sand and water in the silence. I feel completely at peace and am in no rush to leave. I feel like I’ve found a place with no time. A noisy truck approaches and the spell is broken.

After lunch we leave on another tour. We go to the Temple of the Oracle, a temple where Alexander the Great was told his father was the god Zeus. Next is the Temple of Amun. It looks like a pile of rubble. At some point it was blown up in search of treasure. We elect to just drive past. At the spring of Cleopatra, the men and children jump into the deep circular pool. Lou shops and I take photos. The bathing suit I brought is modest by Canadian standards, but it would be scandalous here. I’m told I will be able to swim ash the next stop, a salt lake.

We drive out into the desert. Jonah and Oscar are deeply involved in a discussion about Plants vs Zombies. They have been inseparable for most of the trip. My eyes are usually glued to the window. We drive beside another large lake and on the other side are salt mines. Empty trucks drive in, and trucks piled high with salt drive out. Every once and a while there is a rectangular pool of water. 

“Maybe this is the Salt Lake,” jokes Andy.

It was the Salt Lake. 

Andy is in first, of course, and immediately bobs up. The others join him. Two of the children are soon out again, the salt stings their cuts. I pour water over Oscar’s scrapes and jump in once he has recovered. I float effortlessly in the dense, salty water. I could easily have a nap. But today, frolicking is far too much fun. Soon the children are all out, playing in the piles of salt, and the adults bob in the pool. Is this what it is like to float in space?

We discover that while the salt is pleasant in the water, once it dries it becomes progressively more painful. Ibrahim takes us to another hot spring. This one is behind a gate and full of foreigners, so I have no doubts about plunging into the deep hot pool. The stinging salt is washed away and replaced with a soothing warmth as the setting sun casts everything in a warm glow.

Back at the lodge we enjoy another lovely meal. The main dish features the unlikely combination of eggplant and ground beef and raisins. Nevertheless it is delicious. The kids go to bed, exhausted. The adults stay up late, talking about politics and books, drinking wine and rum we brought from home.

The next day we decide to stay and enjoy the Talist Lodge. Oscar and I climb the “mountains” of sandstone, swim in the pool and enjoy leisurely meals. We watch the sun dip low in the cloudless sky. It throws out a blanket of warm light before it disappears, leaving behind a pale pink glow. It is Samhain and the veil between the world of the living and the world of the dead is thin. That night we chat by the fire while the kids make robots out of bottles and mud.

The drive home is mostly uneventful. Soldiers do the same cursory check of the trunk at each checkpoint. There is a bit of excitement when we pass through a desert storm. The driver slows, uncertain. The storm passes and we are on our way again, careening down the desert road at 140 km/hr, bouncing jauntily. The empty desert is replaced with buildings and light, the silence with cars honking and engines revving, and we know we are back in the city, home.  

[oselatra]

48 hours in Fayetteville

More than just Woo-Pig.

48 HOURS

IN

FayettevillE

More Than Just Woo-Pig.

The Hogs will forever reign supreme up on the hill in Fayetteville — even when the football and basketball teams are in shambles. But say, "Who pig?" and plan your visit on a weekend when there's not a big game. You might want to bring a bike and use the Razorback Regional Greenway to pedal around town and all the way north to Bentonville. That would help you burn off all the calories you're going to pile on touring Fayetteville's fantastic food and bar scene.

Day 1:

Start with a burger in a basement

"Housed in a cellar location straight out of a Beat poem, it's the kind of place that'll make even an oldster feel like the clock has been wound back to the glory days the minute you walk in the door," the Arkansas Times once wrote in a review of Hugo's (25 1/2 N. Block Ave.), a Fayetteville institution since 1977. Most of the decor appears not to have changed since then. Hugo's will hopefully forever be a bit dingy. That's the way we like it. There's no better place in Fayetteville to grab a burger and a beer.

Buy books, records

The best book shopping in Arkansas is in Fayetteville. Dickson Street Bookshop (325 W. Dickson St.), where used and out-of-print books are bought and sold ("where good books go to good people" is the store's motto), is a rabbit warren of literary delights in which bibliophiles can happily lose an hour or two. Nightbird Books (205 W. Dickson St.) sells a smart and broad collection of new books for adults and children. It's got everything an indie bookstore fan could want: pet birds to admire, an in-store coffee shop and comfy chairs. Block Street Records (17 N. Block Ave.) is the record shop every college town should have now that the kids are buying vinyl again. It's got a wide selection of obscure as well as popular new and used albums, a knowledgeable staff, and it's open daily with hours that stretch to 9 p.m. on Friday and Saturday nights.

You need nature

And Lake Fayetteville and the Botanical Garden of the Ozarks will provide. You didn't bring a boat, of course, but no worry: Lake Fayetteville will rent you one for its calm, no-wake waters. Or climb back on your mountain bike and check out the surrounding area. The 6.9-mile nature trail is a destination for bird watchers and others who like to walk in the woods, and it goes right by the Botanical Garden. There's a $7 ticket, but you'll see 12 themed gardens, a butterfly house and learn about bats or succulents or tea — whatever is being offered in the garden's educational program.

Grab a drink and some nostalgia

Maxine Miller sits at the head of the table of the Arkansas Bar Hall of Fame (which does not, but should, exist!). As a 24-year-old single woman in 1950, she opened Maxine's Tap Room at 107 N. Block Ave. For more than 50 years, Miller presided over the smoky shotgun bar, perched on the only green stool in a line of a red ones, sipping coffee and playing dominos, while generations of students stopped in for cold beer, a beloved jukebox and a try on an arcade bowling game known as "Ding Ding." In her later years, Miller sold T-shirts that read, "It was your parents' bar. Now it's yours." When Miller died in 2006, her family kept the bar open, but a fire forced it to close for a year, among other setbacks. But in 2013, the owners of nearby Block Avenue businesses The Little Bread Co., Terra Tots and Hammer & Chisel stepped in to operate the bar. They gave it a update, stripping out drop ceilings and peeling back some of the bric-brac, and introducing a smart, classic cocktail menu. It remains one of the best bars in Arkansas. Bonus points: Former Arkansas Times arts and entertainment editor and professional music nerd Robert Bell often DJs there.

Head south to the Mill District

Restaurateurs Jerrmy Gawthrop and Clayton Suttle have made South Fayetteville a food and drink destination. In 2006, they opened Greenhouse Grille (418 S. School Ave.), a "new American" restaurant that specializes in innovative takes on comfort food and relies heavily on local ingredients. Naturally, it's vegetarian and vegan friendly, though you can also get beef tenderloin served with bleu cheese butter. In 2014, Gawthrop and Suttle opened Wood Stone Craft Pizza + Bar just to the south of Greenhouse Grille (557 S. School Ave.). It's a similar formula to Greenhouse, with lots of local ingredients inventively combined, but on pizza cooked in a wood oven. You'll also find a happening bar scene, with a wide selection of Arkansas craft beers and craft cocktails; there's boozy root beer and dreamsicle floats, too. Both restaurants are easily accessible for bikers or walkers on the Frisco Trail, part of the Razorback Regional Greenway.

Stay downtown ... or on the outskirts

The former Cosmopolitan Hotel underwent a complete redesign and renovation, which included replacing and updating furniture, fixtures, plumbing and electrical systems, before reopening in 2012 as The Chancellor (70 N. East Ave.), a boutique hotel with 92 rooms and 15 suites, modern decor and an affordable price point (rooms start at $99). It's downtown near the square and within walking distance of campus and many of our recommendations for food, drink and fun. Or stay at the Inn at the Mill (3906 Johnson Mill Blvd.) just outside of town, in Johnson, near Arvest Park, where the Northwest Arkansas Naturals play. The late Fayetteville architect James Lambeth restored the Johnson Mill, part of which dates back before the Civil War (some of it was burned after the battle of Pea Ridge and reconstructed after the war), in the 1990s and constructed the inn around it. His daughter, Courtney James, and her husband, Miles James, ran it and the restaurant James at the Mill. The Jameses sold the property earlier this year and the new owners plan to turn the restaurant into additional space for lodging. In the meantime, what's there has been recently renovated.

Day 2:

Grab breakfast or brunch or toast at Arsaga's

Cary and Cindy Arsaga opened the first location of Arsaga Coffee Co. in 1992. Since then, the Arsaga family has become near synonymous with coffee in Fayetteville, adding new locations and its own warehouse roastery. In 2012, they transformed a long dilapidated freight train building into what became Arsaga's at the Depot (548 W. Dickson St.), an all-day restaurant that specializes in crepes, but also does sandwiches, salads, loaded fries and big breakfast plates. It's got a big outdoor porch that overlooks the Frisco Trail. In 2016, the family opened Arsaga's Church & Center (200 W. Center), nicknamed "Toast," because the shop only sells coffee and other drinks and loaded thick-cut toasts — like the Boss Hog (smoked pork, pimento cheese, pickled carrot, parsley and mojo verde on multigrain bread) or the Toast Shop Crunch (buttered and sugared sourdough topped with sweet maple cream and fresh fruit).

Art and architecture

The stomping grounds of E. Fay Jones and Edward Durrell Stone ought to have some architecture to look at, right? Stone designed the Fine Arts Center building on the UA campus, the Sigma Nu house and other buildings. Jones, the famed creator of Thorncrown Chapel in Eureka Springs, who taught at the UA, which named its architecture school for him, designed many of the fabulous mid-century homes you see tucked into Fayetteville's hills. In fact, Fayetteville is lousy with architectural firms and exciting 21st century designs by the DeMx, Marlon Blackwell, David McKee firms and others. If it's old you're into, Fayetteville has that in spades, too: In 1853, a century before Jones was bringing his version of Prairie-style works to town, Col. Tebbets built his place at 118 E. Dickson St. It's now the home of the Washington County Historical Society. Even earlier, in 1845, Judge David Walker built a home at 207 Center St.; it's one of the few properties, like the Col. Tebbets house, to survive the Civil War; now called the Walker-Stone House, it hosts exhibits of fine art. The oldest standing building in Fayetteville is the Ridge House, a portion of which dates to 1830.

Like Fort Smith, Fayetteville has joined the mural movement, with the Green Candy public art project. Check out "Owl" on the east side of the former Mountain Inn building; it's a three-story work by Puerto Rican artist Alexis Diaz. There's a timely eclipse mural by Argentinian street artist Marina Zumi on the west side of Hog Haus Brewing Co. And Fayetteville artist Jason Jones is the creator of the gas-masked rabbit at 545 W. Center St.

After you've seen what's outside, go indoors to see what's on the walls at the Walton Arts Center's Joy Pratt Markham Gallery. Before the renovation of the UA Fine Arts Center — part of the $120 million, Walton-family-supported School of Art that will be built during the next five years — see what's up in the gallery there. Ride your bike there; you'll never find a place to park.

Too much culture for you?

If you like your fun with a big helping of nostalgia, the Arkadia Retrocade (1478 N. College Ave.) is the place to get your fix on Asteroids, Galaga, Donkey Kong and other classic arcade games for one low entry fee.

Refresh in style ... or waste the afternoon and evening at adult playland

The restored Carnall Hall, the turn-of-the-century women's dorm that has been transformed into luxe lodging, has a terrific dark and cozy bar called the Lambeth Lounge. It's got that swank, intellectual Algonquin Round Table feel. And if you pull a Dorothy Parker and have one too many, no matter: Ella's Restaurant is in Carnall Hall, too, and it's a white-tablecloth, crab cakes and tenderloin kind of place.

On the other hand, JJ's Beer Garden & Brewing Co. (3615 N. Steel Blvd.), owned by JJ's Grill restaurateur Jody Thornton, is a 12,000-square-foot brewpub that has it all: beer brewed on location, a huge menu of pub grub and an outdoor barbecue food truck, and a massive outdoor patio and play area with a 16-by-19-foot TV, shuffleboard, cornhole, ping pong, bocce ball, sand volleyball and even a wading pool. You can imagine that things get a little crazy here on game days.

48 hours in Fayetteville

[rococochocolates]

http://ift.tt/2rcGo2h <p>After almost 10 years of using and enjoying Grenada Chocolate Company’s chocolate, and wondering whether I’d ever see the source, Chantal suggested I book for a trip to Grenada to coincide with the 2017 Chocolate Festival.</p> <p>As Head Chocolatier here at Rococo, a trip to Grenada was not just a chance to see cocoa growing, and experience a different culture, but to watch the original Tree to Bar company in action, learn all about the chocolate making, and hopefully, in return, teach the team in the Bonbon shop some chocolatier skills.</p> <p>Grenada is an incredible country. Visually, it’s stunning. The population of 109,000 live in this tiny island country barely 25 miles long. Each coast is a slightly different climate and coastline, the dwellings vary, as does the abundance of fruits. The coastline quickly ascends into rainforest covered mountains, topped with clouds which occasionally decide to burst and drench you with a tropical downpour.</p> <div id="attachment_15348" style="width: 385px" class="wp-caption alignleft"><img class="size-medium wp-image-15348" src="http://ift.tt/2rcGo2h" alt="Grand Anse beach" width="375" height="500" srcset="http://ift.tt/2rcGo2h 375w, http://ift.tt/2rX8jQJ 192w, http://ift.tt/2rchCPN 768w, http://ift.tt/2rX7UxC 600w, http://ift.tt/2rc5K0e 435w, http://ift.tt/2rXoWMk 1122w, http://ift.tt/2rczp9m 840w, http://ift.tt/2rWVyFI 687w, http://ift.tt/2rcn8Sp 414w, http://ift.tt/2rX2NOa 354w" sizes="(max-width: 375px) 100vw, 375px" /><p class="wp-caption-text">Grand Anse beach</p></div> <div id="attachment_15349" style="width: 385px" class="wp-caption alignleft"><img class="size-medium wp-image-15349" src="http://ift.tt/2rc8OJr" alt="Rainforest hills" width="375" height="500" srcset="http://ift.tt/2rc8OJr 375w, http://ift.tt/2rX7SWw 192w, http://ift.tt/2rcmX9O 768w, http://ift.tt/2rWW0E4 600w, http://ift.tt/2rcqchy 435w, http://ift.tt/2rXk2it 1122w, http://ift.tt/2rcqXqy 840w, http://ift.tt/2rX5eAh 687w, http://ift.tt/2rcC2Ie 414w, http://ift.tt/2rX3wP9 354w" sizes="(max-width: 375px) 100vw, 375px" /><p class="wp-caption-text">Rainforest hills</p></div> <p>The roadsides are lined with trees dripping with mangoes, which you can pick up from the floor and tear open to eat the sweet or acidic flesh. Huge breadfruit trees bear their big, lime-green round fruit, nutmeg trees can be found everywhere, dropping their bright-red mace encased nutmeg shells to the floor.</p> <p>Cocoa is everywhere. Small and larger trees, pods of all sizes growing at odd angles from all over the trunk and braches. Green ripens to yellow, red to orange, and the trees are covered with every stage of growth, from flowers to ripe pods. This past year’s combination has meant a constant harvest, so it’s been a good year. Large bunches of bananas and plantains are interspersed. This incredibly productive vegetation combines with the wooden dwellings of the locals, which some are no more than shacks, and the people sit in their porches, or gather at local shops and bars, spending their time and the long hours of heat and darkness, deep in conversation and local gossip. Everything and anything is painted the bright red, yellow and green of the flag of Grenada – from lamp posts to rocks and fences!</p> <div id="attachment_15351" style="width: 700px" class="wp-caption alignleft"><img src="http://ift.tt/2rcC3fg" alt="Rainforest nutmeg" width="690" height="920" class="size-large wp-image-15351" srcset="http://ift.tt/2rcC3fg 768w, http://ift.tt/2rX3UNT 192w, http://ift.tt/2rcC4jk 375w, http://ift.tt/2rWY5jq 600w, http://ift.tt/2rcC4Qm 435w, http://ift.tt/2rXcUT0 1122w, http://ift.tt/2rcDwSN 840w, http://ift.tt/2rWQmC4 687w, http://ift.tt/2rczppS 414w, http://ift.tt/2rWLQ6r 354w" sizes="(max-width: 690px) 100vw, 690px" /><p class="wp-caption-text">Rainforest nutmeg</p></div> <div id="attachment_15349" style="width: 700px" class="wp-caption alignleft"><img src="http://ift.tt/2rcmX9O" alt="Rainforest hills" width="690" height="920" class="size-large wp-image-15349" srcset="http://ift.tt/2rcmX9O 768w, http://ift.tt/2rX7SWw 192w, http://ift.tt/2rc8OJr 375w, http://ift.tt/2rWW0E4 600w, http://ift.tt/2rcqchy 435w, http://ift.tt/2rXk2it 1122w, http://ift.tt/2rcqXqy 840w, http://ift.tt/2rX5eAh 687w, http://ift.tt/2rcC2Ie 414w, http://ift.tt/2rX3wP9 354w" sizes="(max-width: 690px) 100vw, 690px" /><p class="wp-caption-text">Rainforest river cocoa pods</p></div> <p>If you make sure to greet people and smile hello, they will frequently start to talk to you, often for quite a while! I heard tales of ‘the good old days’, of Cocoa Tea and salt fish cakes for breakfast, environmental changes and the unreliability of the seasons these days, of the various types of mangoes you can find (our taxi driver pulled over on what was their mother’s day, and picked me two Julie mangoes, telling me they were his mother’s favourite), the lack of Grenadian pre-colonial history taught in schools, and the problems with politicians – some issues are the same wherever you go!</p> <div id="attachment_15352" style="width: 700px" class="wp-caption alignleft"><img class="size-large wp-image-15352" src="http://ift.tt/2rcfK9H" alt="Cocoa and bananas" width="690" height="518" srcset="http://ift.tt/2rcfK9H 1024w, http://ift.tt/2rWPihb 256w, http://ift.tt/2rckc8v 667w, http://ift.tt/2rXheBM 768w, http://ift.tt/2rcxVMu 600w, http://ift.tt/2rXcWu6 773w, http://ift.tt/2rcsCfY 1376w, http://ift.tt/2rX7UO8 1044w, http://ift.tt/2rcFl2b 632w, http://ift.tt/2rX5eQN 536w" sizes="(max-width: 690px) 100vw, 690px" /><p class="wp-caption-text">Cocoa and bananas</p></div> <p>Our first place to stay, Mango Bay on the West Coast, was a few isolated cottages, with some of the most delicious food I’ve ever eaten, cooked by the chef, Kiddusi, who turned out to be from Hermitage, and to be Edmond’s (from the Grenada Chocolate Company) cousin. For three days and nights, he brought us food cooked from mainly local ingredients – expertly spiced and deeply flavoured Callaloo soup (a Grenadian speciality), followed by sweet potato and thyme bake, or spiced quinoa and chickpeas, always accompanied by perfectly caramelised, slightly chewy fried plantain and a thick, tasty portion of spiced greens and vegetables.</p> <p>Breakfasts were eaten alongside the twenty or so Iguanas who live down in the rocks, and consisted of ginger pancakes or baked coconut cake with nutmeg syrup, accompanied by herbal teas from the garden – mint, ginger, bay : all incredibly potent.</p> <div id="attachment_15353" style="width: 700px" class="wp-caption alignleft"><img class="size-large wp-image-15353" src="http://ift.tt/2rchD6j" alt="Ginger Pancakes with fried plantain & nutmeg syrup" width="690" height="518" srcset="http://ift.tt/2rchD6j 1024w, http://ift.tt/2rWVyWe 256w, http://ift.tt/2rcC178 667w, http://ift.tt/2rWW0UA 768w, http://ift.tt/2rcxjq7 600w, http://ift.tt/2rXk1ep 773w, http://ift.tt/2rc5M8m 1376w, http://ift.tt/2rX6WkU 1044w, http://ift.tt/2rcsL2M 632w, http://ift.tt/2rXk2yZ 536w" sizes="(max-width: 690px) 100vw, 690px" /><p class="wp-caption-text">Ginger Pancakes with fried plantain & nutmeg syrup</p></div> <p>We drank freshly squeezed soursop, passion fruit or tamarind juice, and topped the meal off with ginger or chocolate cake: this is truly vegetarian heaven. Time it right for dinner, and as the chorus of Tree Frogs break out, you’ll see the fireflies flitting between trees.</p> <p>[Iced Cocoa Tea and a hot chocolate shot photo]</p> <p>Following a couple of days of isolation I headed to the bustle of the main town. The House of Chocolate in St George’s, has a small museum of the history of cocoa in Grenada, and serves great hot and cold drinks, cookies and brownies. Their iced cocoa tea blended the traditional Grenadian version of hot chocolate with ice cream. Wandering round the vibrant local spice market, I bought large pieces of rolled cinnamon bark, nutmeg, and chatted to the vendors about recipes and the traditional uses of the spices.</p> <p>I timed my trip to coincide with the Grenada Chocolate Festival, set up four years ago by Magdalena Fielden, a Mexican living in Grenada for the last 20 years. She has learned more and more about cacao and chocolate in the last few years, establishing the House of Chocolate a couple of years ago, and using the Festival to build international recognition for Grenadian Chocolate.</p> <p><strong>Recipe for Grenadian Cocoa Tea (serves 4)</strong><br /> Place 3 large bayleaves (Grenadian if you can get them – they’re very different to ours), a stick of cinnamon, five or six cloves and half a grated, or a full chopped nutmeg in a pan of water – about 500ml.</p> <p>Simmer for twenty minutes, then whisk in two traditional Grenadian cocoa balls, or 100g Grenada Chocolate Company cocoa powder. (You can use other cocoas, but it honestly won’t taste as good due to the characteristics of the origin, and the way the flavours work together).</p> <p>When the cocoa balls have melted, or the cocoa powder is fully whisked in, add 100-200ml full fat milk.<br /> At this point you can either sweeten with sugar to taste, and drink as traditional cocoa tea, or wait till the liquid cools, and blend with good quality chocolate ice cream, such as our SnowflakeXRococo Sea salt Milk chocolate or for dairy-free, the Chocolate sorbetto.</p> <p>My next post will cover the festival, and after that my time at the Factory…</p> Grenada [Diary 1/4]

After almost 10 years of using and enjoying Grenada Chocolate Company’s chocolate, and wondering whether I’d ever see the source, Chantal suggested I book for a trip to Grenada to coincide with the 2017 Chocolate Festival.

As Head Chocolatier here at Rococo, a trip to Grenada was not just a chance to see cocoa growing, and experience a different culture, but to watch the original Tree to Bar company in action, learn all about the chocolate making, and hopefully, in return, teach the team in the Bonbon shop some chocolatier skills.

Grenada is an incredible country. Visually, it’s stunning. The population of 109,000 live in this tiny island country barely 25 miles long. Each coast is a slightly different climate and coastline, the dwellings vary, as does the abundance of fruits. The coastline quickly ascends into rainforest covered mountains, topped with clouds which occasionally decide to burst and drench you with a tropical downpour.

Grand Anse beach

Rainforest hills

The roadsides are lined with trees dripping with mangoes, which you can pick up from the floor and tear open to eat the sweet or acidic flesh. Huge breadfruit trees bear their big, lime-green round fruit, nutmeg trees can be found everywhere, dropping their bright-red mace encased nutmeg shells to the floor.

Cocoa is everywhere. Small and larger trees, pods of all sizes growing at odd angles from all over the trunk and braches. Green ripens to yellow, red to orange, and the trees are covered with every stage of growth, from flowers to ripe pods. This past year’s combination has meant a constant harvest, so it’s been a good year. Large bunches of bananas and plantains are interspersed. This incredibly productive vegetation combines with the wooden dwellings of the locals, which some are no more than shacks, and the people sit in their porches, or gather at local shops and bars, spending their time and the long hours of heat and darkness, deep in conversation and local gossip. Everything and anything is painted the bright red, yellow and green of the flag of Grenada – from lamp posts to rocks and fences!

Rainforest nutmeg

Rainforest river cocoa pods

If you make sure to greet people and smile hello, they will frequently start to talk to you, often for quite a while! I heard tales of ‘the good old days’, of Cocoa Tea and salt fish cakes for breakfast, environmental changes and the unreliability of the seasons these days, of the various types of mangoes you can find (our taxi driver pulled over on what was their mother’s day, and picked me two Julie mangoes, telling me they were his mother’s favourite), the lack of Grenadian pre-colonial history taught in schools, and the problems with politicians – some issues are the same wherever you go!

Cocoa and bananas

Our first place to stay, Mango Bay on the West Coast, was a few isolated cottages, with some of the most delicious food I’ve ever eaten, cooked by the chef, Kiddusi, who turned out to be from Hermitage, and to be Edmond’s (from the Grenada Chocolate Company) cousin. For three days and nights, he brought us food cooked from mainly local ingredients – expertly spiced and deeply flavoured Callaloo soup (a Grenadian speciality), followed by sweet potato and thyme bake, or spiced quinoa and chickpeas, always accompanied by perfectly caramelised, slightly chewy fried plantain and a thick, tasty portion of spiced greens and vegetables.

Breakfasts were eaten alongside the twenty or so Iguanas who live down in the rocks, and consisted of ginger pancakes or baked coconut cake with nutmeg syrup, accompanied by herbal teas from the garden – mint, ginger, bay : all incredibly potent.

Ginger Pancakes with fried plantain & nutmeg syrup

We drank freshly squeezed soursop, passion fruit or tamarind juice, and topped the meal off with ginger or chocolate cake: this is truly vegetarian heaven. Time it right for dinner, and as the chorus of Tree Frogs break out, you’ll see the fireflies flitting between trees.

[Iced Cocoa Tea and a hot chocolate shot photo]

Following a couple of days of isolation I headed to the bustle of the main town. The House of Chocolate in St George’s, has a small museum of the history of cocoa in Grenada, and serves great hot and cold drinks, cookies and brownies. Their iced cocoa tea blended the traditional Grenadian version of hot chocolate with ice cream. Wandering round the vibrant local spice market, I bought large pieces of rolled cinnamon bark, nutmeg, and chatted to the vendors about recipes and the traditional uses of the spices.

I timed my trip to coincide with the Grenada Chocolate Festival, set up four years ago by Magdalena Fielden, a Mexican living in Grenada for the last 20 years. She has learned more and more about cacao and chocolate in the last few years, establishing the House of Chocolate a couple of years ago, and using the Festival to build international recognition for Grenadian Chocolate.

Recipe for Grenadian Cocoa Tea (serves 4) Place 3 large bayleaves (Grenadian if you can get them – they’re very different to ours), a stick of cinnamon, five or six cloves and half a grated, or a full chopped nutmeg in a pan of water – about 500ml.

Simmer for twenty minutes, then whisk in two traditional Grenadian cocoa balls, or 100g Grenada Chocolate Company cocoa powder. (You can use other cocoas, but it honestly won’t taste as good due to the characteristics of the origin, and the way the flavours work together).

When the cocoa balls have melted, or the cocoa powder is fully whisked in, add 100-200ml full fat milk. At this point you can either sweeten with sugar to taste, and drink as traditional cocoa tea, or wait till the liquid cools, and blend with good quality chocolate ice cream, such as our SnowflakeXRococo Sea salt Milk chocolate or for dairy-free, the Chocolate sorbetto.

My next post will cover the festival, and after that my time at the Factory…

from Grenada [Diary 1/4]