#Roman Shore Forts

[healerqueen]

Stones of Memory

Here is my entry for the 2024 Inklings Challenge. The @inklings-challenge is an annual writing challenge for sci-fi and fantasy writers, using certain subgenres and themes.

This story is a sequel to a short story I wrote many years ago. That story is referenced in this story, but I tried to make it readable on its own, as a standalone story.

********

I wrestle my huge suitcase through the narrow door of Aunt Alice’s little house. Do they make things smaller in England?

I pause in the familiar entry, breathing in the sights and smells I’ve missed since last year. Aunt Alice’s house is stuffed to the brim with oddities and artifacts. Shelves and tables and walls are lined with interesting things. I could spend hours looking at them.

But Aunt Alice is behind me, laughing at me, holding my other bags. She’s waiting for me to move.

I drag my suitcase into the sitting room and resume my goggling. I examine old photographs, ancient weapons, cracked vases, and worn tapestries. There are so many things to see! Clocks and seashells and lamps. And there’s a story behind each one. I ask Aunt Alice about them as we make our tea, and she tells me fascinating tales. The stories of how she came to own these things are almost as interesting as the stories of the objects themselves.

Aunt Alice is a little odd at times, but I’ve grown to like her eccentricities. Her wardrobe is interesting, for one. I can never decide what I think of it. Today, she’s wearing a blouse with metallic embroidery and a swirl of bright colors on an orange background. It brings out the reddish tones in her short, dyed hair.

After tea, I begin to help Aunt Alice wash up, but she says, “Run along and take a walk before the light goes. I can take care of the dishes.”

So I do. I step out the back door into the golden evening light. Only a swelling hill and a stand of trees separate the little cottage from the sea. I smell the salt on the fresh breeze. I take the path through the trees, climb the low hill, and emerge on the crest of it. Below me, there’s a shallow bay with a sandy shore, and beyond it, the sea.

A strange memory washes over me. I walked here many times on my visit to Aunt Alice last year. But the first time was the oddest. Something bizarre happened to me when I stood on this shore. I’ve almost forgotten it until now—because it seems almost like a dream.

When I arrived at this spot last year, I found a metal cloak pin in the grass by the shore. When I touched it, I had a vision of an ancient village, a painted ship, and an attack by Vikings. I shudder now at the thought of the Vikings chasing me. It was so real. It happened to me as if I was really there.

If I didn’t know better, I’d say I traveled back in time.

I shake away the strange sense of déjà vu. Today, there is only the empty shore, with gentle waves on the sand and rough grasses ruffled by the cool breeze.

It couldn’t be more natural. There are no Vikings to be seen—and perhaps there never were.

***

The next day, Aunt Alice and I are on the road, traveling in her battered, ancient station wagon. It’s still strange to me to drive on the wrong side of the road, but I’m no longer afraid that another car will crash into us.

We’re headed to the site of a Roman fort on Hadrian’s Wall—or what remains of one. It’s amazing to me, an American, that something so old could survive for two thousand years, even in ruins. Perhaps that’s what attracted Aunt Alice to Britain. It’s hard to escape history when I’m in the company of my aunt.

The station wagon rattles bravely up and down green hills and around curves, swooping into valleys and over ridges. As we mount one more hill, Aunt Alice lifts her hand and points. “There,” she says. “There’s the fort.” On a hillside ahead of us lies a stony gray grid—a Roman ruin. A few minutes later, we tumble out of the car and hike up to the fort. Then I’m standing on ancient stones for the first time. The crumbling Roman walls stretch in orderly lines and right angles beneath my feet. Only the foundations remain, but it’s enough. It takes my breath away to think that Roman soldiers once patrolled these walls, back when they were still new. These stones are so old, but they’re still here. There’s still a low foundation, knee high. It’s amazing that it’s survived this long.

Beyond the wall, the countryside stretches away, ridge upon ridge. Hadrian’s Wall connects to the fort on either end and follows a ridge line up and down, slashing across the land.

Aunt Alice is watching me with a little smile. “Well?” she asks. “What do you think?”

“It’s beautiful,” I say. No, it’s majestic.

Aunt Alice turns me loose to explore the fort while she goes on to inspect the walls—just as if she was the fort commander in Roman times.

I wander around the rim of the fort, outside the walls. Below the walls, the ground drops quickly away in a downward slope.

I can’t take my eyes off the view, and I’m not watching my feet. My foot catches on something hard in the turf beneath. I nearly trip. I bend down to see what it is. I pat the grass, and my hand meets something sharp and cold. I pick it up. It’s something made of rough metal, corroded by exposure. It’s as long as my hand is wide, and it fills my palm. The metal is shaped like an arch, with a sharp spike sticking out of it. It looks like a pin—a cloak pin?

I suddenly remember another cloak pin—the one I found a year ago that gave me a vision of Viking times. A thrill runs down my spine. This piece of metal could be only a few years old—or it could be centuries old. What if it’s a Roman cloak pin?

I’ll show it to Aunt Alice. She’ll know. I turn and begin walking back to the fort to find her.

I move too fast, and my head begins to spin. The ground feels unsteady under me. I stumble.

The whole world whirls around me like a merry-go-round. The fort, the countryside, and the sky above mingle together in one solid blur. I can’t feel my feet on the ground. I’m floating, out of touch with the world—except for the hard metal pin I clutch in my hand.

I feel my feet on solid earth once more. The world comes into focus again. But everything has changed.

Instead of a bare hillside with a ruined stone foundation, a high wall rises above me. The fort is no longer in ruins. A town spreads out below it. The slope is paved instead of grass-covered, and it’s crowded with low thatched buildings. The place is alive with people. They’re dressed strangely in checkered fabrics, draped and pinned at the shoulders. I look down and find that I’m dressed in the same fashion, in a straight garment of thick brown wool.

A horn sounds, and I turn around. A patrol of men on horseback rides toward me. People scatter to get out of the street, and I hurry to follow, after a moment of staring. The men are mounted soldiers with shields and rough leather armor. At their head rides a man in a blood-red tunic with metal plate armor and a red-crested helmet—a Roman centurion.

Chills run down my spine. I stare. Could it be? Is this real? This has happened to me once before, and it’s happening again. Just like before, I am in the middle of another time. Am I dreaming, or have I truly traveled back in time?

Someone jostles me in the crowd, and a child darts around me, chasing a scrawny dog. The smoke of cookfires stings my nose, and a din of voices, human and animal, fills my ears. I finger the rough wool of the dress I am wearing.

It seems real. No dream could be so alive.

Then I feel the pinch of hard metal in my other hand, clenched in my fist. I lift my hand and open my fingers. The metal pin is still in my hand. But it’s no longer dull gray, roughened by the years. It’s shiny and new, shaped in a smooth curve. There’s a red jewel at one end of it that wasn’t there before. The same thing happened with that other pin—the one that took me to Viking times. Maybe it’s proof—proof that this is real.

The cavalry detachment disappears through a gate in the high wall of the fort. Dazed, I drift along with the crowd as they follow the departing horses.

A woman’s voice snaps at me. “Girl, what are you doing?” I look down and find I’m almost stepping on a flock of squawking chickens. I hastily move away.

There are so many things to see here. A woman spins with spindle and distaff in the doorway of a hut, with a baby on the ground beside her. Off-duty soldiers duck into the door of a wine-shop. A hunter carrying a spear walks past with a wolf-skin slung over his shoulder. He wears a shining neck-ring and a magnificent cloak pin.

As I keep walking down the street between rows of huts, I look down at the pin in my hand. I think this bow-shaped cloak pin is called a fibula—and it’s Roman, not British. The gem embedded in one end of it might be carnelian, or perhaps only glass, but it’s probably not a ruby.

I stare at it in wonder. Once before, a cloak pin took me to another world—another time—the time of the Vikings. Now I’m here, in a bustling Roman fort—holding a second cloak pin. It’s strange but somehow fitting. But what kind of power could do that? Time travel is the stuff of fiction.

“You, girl!” a sharp voice shouts. A man is marching toward me, dressed in Roman armor and carrying a spear in one hand, with a crested helmet under one arm—a centurion. I look up, startled.

“What do you have there?” the soldier demands in an accusing tone. He’s pointing at the cloak pin in my hand. Instinctively, I close my hand and clutch the pin to my waist.

“You stole that fibula. It’s not yours,” the centurion guesses. Other people are looking now. A few of them approach.

I open my mouth to protest. “No, I—” But only a whisper comes out. I back away, hemmed in by accusing eyes

“Take her to the magistrate!” someone says. The centurion beckons another Roman soldier, and they close in on me.

I look around for help, but there is none.

“She looks daft,” a woman says. “Look at her eyes. See, she doesn’t understand.” But I understand. The vacant look in my eyes turns to panic.

The soldiers reach out to lay hands on me. I shake them off. I turn and run, bursting through the crowd. The soldiers weren’t expecting me to put up a fight. They run after me and give chase.

My feet pound down the cobblestone street. I don’t know where I’m going. All I can think of is to get away—somewhere they won’t find me.  I turn sharply to dash down a narrow side street between two thatched huts.

The Romans are still behind me, chasing me. They follow as I dash down a maze of narrow, zigzagging alleyways.

Once I leave the main thoroughfare, the streets are quieter, but they have no order. Living huts are tangled together with taverns and shops. A cat startles and flees at my approach, shrieking.

The heavy, nailed sandals of the Romans ring on the street behind me. Where can I go?

Just then, someone pops out of the doorway of a hut—a stout older woman. “Come—hide!” she says.

That’s all the invitation I need. I veer out of the street and dive through the low doorway of the woman’s hut. I press myself against the wall beside the door, ducking to avoid the low ceiling. A moment later, the soldiers barrel past with pounding feet. I’m safe—for now.

“They’ll be back,” the woman says knowingly. I turn to look at her. “Come. In here.” She ushers me to a curtain that partitions off half the hut. We duck behind the curtain, and it falls behind us. “If they come,” says the woman, “hide under the blanket.” She gestures to a low bed covered in skins and woven rugs in faded colors.

The whole place smells unpleasant, and the blankets smell worse, but I’m too desperate to care. I smile and nod gratefully. I collapse and sit on the bed at the woman’s urging. Only then do I notice how exhausted I am. I’m still breathing hard from my run, and my limbs feel like jelly. This does not feel like a dream.

The woman disappears for a few moments and comes back with a hot, fragrant bowl of meaty stew. I taste it, and it is rich and good. I wonder if I’d still like it if I knew what was in it—but I’m hungry as well as tired, and I eat it anyway.

A commotion outside sends the woman scurrying back through the curtains. Men’s raised voices reach me, hardly muffled by the curtain. The soldiers. I put down the bowl of stew, suddenly terrified. My insides feel frozen, and I can’t stomach more food at a time like this.

I feel the hard cloak pin in my sweating hand. I keep forgetting it’s there. I should probably hide it, but I can’t bear to let go of it. It seems like my only lifeline to reality and sanity, to my own world—my own time.

The novelty of this adventure has worn off. Maybe later I’ll appreciate it. Right now, I just want to go home.

I screw my eyes shut against the voices at the outer door of the hut. Any moment now, the soldiers will barge in to search the place, and I’ll have to hide under the blankets—as if that will be enough to keep them from finding me.

Then I realize—it’s quiet. The soldiers are gone.

The woman appears through the curtains, and I jump. But she reassures me: “They're gone.” Her shrewd look tells me she’s done this before. “Wait a little. Then you can go.” I try to tell her how grateful I am, but she waves me away. A few minutes later, I step out of the hut and breathe the fresh air again. I’m so happy to see the sky. The fort walls tower above me once more, with the town nestled at their feet.

I open my hand once more and look down at the cloak pin. The red jewel glints up at me like a winking eye. I reach out with my other hand and touch it gently.

The world begins to spin around me again, whirling at a dizzying speed. Then everything slows, and the world is steady once more—and I’m back at the Roman ruins, in modern England. The sun streams down above low, crumbling walls. Tourists wander around the site with cameras and neon-colored jackets. I’m dressed in my windbreaker and jeans.

I look around in wonder. Did that really just happen? Did I travel back in time? Or was it all a dream? If it was a dream, then it’s happened twice now—and it was more than a daydream. It seemed real. But it couldn’t be. Things like that don’t just happen.

But then I feel hard, cold metal in my palm. I expect the metal will be dull and gray. But the cloak pin in my hand shines in the sun, polished and new. The red gem bursts with color in the sun. That jewel wasn’t there before. Maybe—just maybe—this really did happen.

Someone calls out to me. It’s Aunt Alice. I turn and look for her as she comes toward me, carrying her outlandish, mammoth handbag. “Come up and see the walls,” she says. I’m still dazed, but I nod vaguely and start toward her, swaying a little. Aunt Alice looks hard at me. “What’s happened to you, my girl? Has history changed you?” She’s joking, with a twinkle in her eye. But she’s right—it has changed me.

“You’ll never believe me if I tell you,” I say.

Aunt Alice squints, studying me with a wise light in her eye. “I’m not so sure about that. Why don’t you try me?” I might do just that.

[bonefall]

Yknow how the forest territory is Believably England and then the lake is... Vaguely American? Are there any major changes to the lake from you pushing it back to being Believably England?

This is major nerdish territory but yes actually, in fact I specifically look at Delamere's programs and plan to model the visitor center (in RiverClan territory) off their new 2020 expansion. I think part of why the Lake feels "vaguely American" in canon is like... it's so hard to describe, but it's written like... a summer camp lake. Not a British nature reserve.

Meanwhile, the Forest Territories were based on NEW FOREST, which is a real place in Hampshire that Victoria Holmes used to visit. Because of that, the wetland, moorland, forest, and river are all grounded in reality. Of course it's believable-- Vicky was writing from experience!

Meanwhile, the Lake wasn't even supposed to "become the new map," she thought TNP would be the end of the series. The first sign that it the ecology was gonna get crazy, though, was the Tribe's mountain. girlie... it's southeastern England. what mountain? God tried to hit London with a frying pan and ended flattening the entire area, did Smokepaw fall to his death off a HILL?

But anyway, new BB Lake Territory biome models be upon ye;

ShadowClan's bog is based off Black Lake in Delamere, mixed with a bit of indulgence in specifically letting them destroy a sitka plantation lmao. There's more diversity in the other models though, which is why I don't say the whole thing is JUST Delamere.

The river and lake ecosystem look a lot more like the Dyfrdwy (re: the only protected water zone in the entire UK under the 1991 Water Resources Act) and Llyn Tegid (because it's big, well researched, and clean). The moorland is lowland heather, as seen in Thurstaton Common and Bickerton Hill, though I sometimes have to take research from further south or east because of how devastated those biomes have gotten in this region.

(the aquatic and moorland ecosystems have gotten so. so fucked in the past 200 years.)

(also side note if you want a chuckle, please read this article from the Wildlife Trust on "how to find heather" which has an entire section on what to do if you cannot access moorland, where it suggests other ways you can experience purple. Obsessed with the phrasing of this. Like it's a natural instinct. If you can't find heather go somewhere wet and look at a crocus.)

Other random things about Sanctuary Lake now;

It follows Llyn Tegid's watersports permits system. Power boats are banned and humans are only allowed to swim at the shore.

There's gonna be ruins in WindClan now. Was very surprised to find out that, no, that's not a movie thing, there's just ruins. Cool!

I keep waffling on what sort of ruin it is tho. I'm leaning towards a castle ruin, but Chester uncovered a roman coliseum so THAT would be really cool. It would be neat if they found a lion skull. Maybe some kind of Roman fort.

[vaguelyoriginaldrivel]

GANYMEDE

The largest and most important of the Gallilean moons. Continents of ice floating above an unfathomably deep sea, a thin and cold atmosphere barely clinging to its surface. Sprawling tundra of squamous lichens and icy shores piled high with red kelp. So distant from the sun, the dim light of the sky and the soft glare of Jupiter can provide only enough light and heat to sustain a paltry assemblage of primitive flora across most of the world, which in turn supports a meager assortment of radial-beaked rabbits and hexaped moose. At the poles, however, the situation changes. Unlike every other moon in the entire solar system, Ganymede has a magnetosphere, and this electric dynamo produces, when combined with the intense radiation of the jovian belt, a 24/7 aurora borealis, green and blue light dancing across the sky. There, the ecosystem is more advanced, transitioning from tundra and muskeg to scrubland, rolling hills, and, in a hundred-mile basin resting near the north pole, Ganymede’s only forest, an unknown land shrouded beneath the canopies of its towering pines.

The aboriginal people of Ganymede are the Lah-cyg, who look something like two swans sewn together back-to-back, using their twin necks to sling spears, row oars, and perform all the rest of the manipulations humans use hands for. They stand about as tall as men, but, adapted to Ganymede’s low gravity and evolved treading over thin ice and boggy ground, are considerably lighter and weaker. They’re a culturally diverse species, having spread across Ganymede millennia ago and formed into many now distinct peoples, from the canoe whalers of the southern sea to the bobsled-hunters of the deep tundra to the leshy-emperors of the great forest. Though their anatomy is alien, psychologically and behaviorally they are very near-human, even if they communicate as much with their eight flag-wings as their voices and their natural lifespan is near five hundred years.

Ganymede was already under an extraterrestrial yoke when the tsan-chan first arrived. The Garzbhel amphibians, polypous frog things either convergent on or distantly related to the moon beasts of luna, had, from their europan homeward, descended on Ganymede along with the rest of the jovian system, flying across the void of space on the backs of their slave-steeds, the xeno-pegasi known as the Oxarith. From their forts and feitorias of gelatinous stone, they meddled with the affairs of the Lah-cyg, demanding slaves, their compradors and tributaries among the ganymedians given access to their trumpet-spiraled guns to aid in the slave-raids. Ganymede was ravaged by slave-wars, the losers stuffed in cages and hauled across the void to toil and die beneath Europa, the winners given more guns and ammo to capture ore slaves. It was in this context that the Tsan-Chan arrived. The Garzbhel would not bend the knee, and so the Tsan-Chan beat them back to Europa. It was a brief war, Garzbhel void-chariots against Tsan-Chan torchships like roman triremes against 21st-century aircraft carriers - the Garzbhel retreated to the wine-dark seas beneath Europa, collapsed the ice-shafts behind them, and have not emerged in force since. The only ones seen now are the few guerrilla holdouts left hiding out in the uncharted wilds, and the scant few who submitted to Tsan-Chan conquest. The mere passing of the Garzbhel would have been enough to throw their accomplices, the warrior-kindoms which grew wealthy off the slave trade, into turmoil - the Tsan-chan did not even give them that chance. Those old kingdoms are now subjects of the cruel empire, and the entire moon is claimed as a possession by the tsan-chan - though, the control is more tenuous in reality than on paper. Ganymede is the largest moon in the solar system, and much of its vastness remains untouched by human hands (though not by lah-cyg beaks).

The Tsan-Chan, unlike the Garzbhel, do not come to Ganymede seeking slaves. Nor do they come seeking furs, or moss, or ice. From Ganymede they want only one thing - fish. The Tsan-Chan have raised on Ganymede a series of sea-ports, little bays with raised walls and guns on towers, but really the seat of their occupation is their only Gaynmedian city - Nuevo Francisco. The entire city is built and devoted to processing as much fish as possible, gutting, canning, and launching into orbit to provide the rest of the empire with cheap protein from the Gallilean sea. It reeks, of course, of salt and blood and brine - noisy, too, the grinding of the factory-machines, the rumbling of the ship-engines, the constant motion of the task.

The ice-trawlers that feed Nuevo Francisco dredge far and wide and deep, smashing through the delicate ecosystems perched on the iceberg-shelf. These are not the chief target, though - the native species too clever and wild and balanced in appetite and growth for the Tsan-Chan use. What they seek is fish in the true sense, not just the Ganymedian analogues. Hatchery towers spill into Nuevo Francisco’s bay, their insides churning with millions and billions of fry, bred in tanks, genelines broken and spliced and chained to maximize speed of growth, monstrous things as artificial as the ships which catch them.

Of course this monstrous industry has had wide-ranging impacts at every step of the process. The Lah-cyg of Ganymede’s coasts are impacted, of course, whether pushed off the seas directly to make room for Tsan-Chan ships, or indirectly by the competition, mauled by the malformed jaws of the hyperagressive terran frankenfish or poisoned by their unnatural flesh. So to is the natural life - anything in the path of the dredge-nets, is annihilated utterly, but the impact extends beyond the reach of ice-trawlers and their piscine quarry. Many of the species who rest on Ganymede’s icy shares dive for their food, and so the ravaging of the coastline has threatened them, and with them all the parasites and predators who attack them on land - the loss of this quarry driving starving carnivores inland, with it’s own knock-on effects. Even the fauna of the void above have suffered, the vacuum-pelicans which once dove for fish coming up more and more with empty beaks, and without the nutrients of their dung the high mountains and dead comets on which they nest struggle to survive. Ganymede’s seas are deep beyond measure, and the neritic zone which man has touched barely a fraction of it’s true extent, yet the easy life of the starlit waters is vital to the life of much of what lives below, but unlike land and sky the depths of Ganymede’s seas are truly unknown… few can even dream of what stirs below.

things I couldn’t figure out how to fit in the post:

Nuevo Francisco, and the tsan-chanese on ganymede more broadly, are by-and-large deep one hybrids - actually part of the reason why they stock the seas with earth-fish, because their abilities to call fish into nets don’t work on alien species.. there’s no full-blooded deep ones though because the true deep ones are on tenuous terms with the tsan-chan anyways and are frankly just not well-suited to the long transit to Jupiter, being enormous and requiring lots of space and water.. confinement in a metal can barely their own size for several months would be nearly unsurvivable

As always, the impacts of colonization has driven many Lah-cyg into the city to try and find work because their traditional lifestyle has been made impossible.. mostly been relegated to domestic work, wiping windows, scrubbing floors, peeling potatoes, etc -

Lah-Cyg essentially stone age because there’s no metals to work, best they can really get is good rocks from the gravel of the rocks embedded in some parts of the ice but they mostly work with bone and leather.. tundra and muskeg and stuff makes for poor agricultural soil, a few peoples in especially fertile regions able to get by with chinampas but by and large everyone’s either a fisher, hunter, or herder.. canoes mostly inuit-style umiak.. “Leshy-Emperors”, the people of the great northern forest, wealthiest, most advanced and last really independent Lah-Cyg state due to monopoly over wood trade granting historical wealth and in modern times cover of the forest shielding from Garzbhel and Tsan-Chan invasion

Mi-Go presence on Ganymede is very, very limited - a few emmisaries have been sent to try and torment rebellion among the Lah-Cyg but the lack of both mineral resources not buried under a million miles of uncharted water and much in the way of men of learning to brain-can means they care little for the moon itself

something something black citadel city of the billion-year past spawn of yuggoth, architecture similar to the prison-temple of ghatnoathao, inside a brother-god of ghatnothoa and rhan-tegoth but a dead one.. medusa-motifs dictate that chryasaor-style thing stalks inside, sea foams with horrid-flapping things that emerge from the sea-foam and fly off into space.. this original birthplace of the Oxarith pegasi, who instinctually fear it knowing that it would destroy them to know their own origins

Ganymede in the dream is a solid shell of ice, no seas no nothing, with enormous chains wrapping across the entire planet.. dreamers wander its surface shivering and freezing. . strange groaning beneath the ice

this is because the entire planet is a prison for horrible elder-gods held at it’s core, confined beneath the deepest ocean in the solar-system under countless layers of ice.. as secure as can be, great cthulu only gets one ocean on top of him instead of like five.. secure in the dream, where they’re awake, less so in the waking world where the ice is cracked

[andalon-historian]

Morgan’s childhood friend Galahad (as he was christened by the Lady of the Lake) was dubbed Sir Lancelot on his sixteenth birthday, four years ago at the time of our story. That’s what he would tell people, anyway, and as a consequence it became true. But it was a lie. 

Galahad left Avalon when he was fourteen, in a misguided attempt to become the hero he always knew he was meant to be; he stole a boat from the Lady, and sailed across the English channel. 

There are matters in which a stranger and one actually involved might agree, but those with a moderate level of knowledge get completely wrong, and sometimes the ease with which a character in a story could cross the English Channel is one of them. To the completely uninitiated, “The English Channel” might sound like quite a big deal; isn’t that the ocean? Just one guy in a rowboat? Really? But it doesn’t take very much education to dispel those fears; the Channel is one of the narrowest seas in the world. Humans have been crossing in rowboats for millennia. As of my writing this, nearly two thousand people have swam across the channel, the fastest doing so in under seven hours. It’s a common destination for amateur sailors. 

But you can’t just grab a boat and get sailing. Experience on a river will not adequately prepare you for sailing at sea. The Straits of Dover are only a 90 minute crossing (though you must remember, that’s on a powered modern ferry), but setting out from Avalon spit the boy out in the Bristol Channel; after spending a night, his lack of food started to pain him. The Summer fogs set in once Penzance disappeared over the horizon; he had at least managed to bring a compass, but as the waves grew higher, his knowledge that the boat was going off course made him no more able to prevent it. 

He had sailed dangerously close to Spain, but luckily capsized far enough North not to be swept away by the Southern current down towards Portugal and the Canaries; instead, the Channel swept him back towards Brittany, which was his intended destination. He undertook this journey in the hopes of freeing his father’s kingdom. He was raised as a fairy maiden, and assumed that’s all he was, until he came of age and the Lady of the Lake finally told him that he was born a prince, but his father and uncle were conquered and killed by the evil King Claudius. His cousins were still prisoners there. How could the mighty Galahad let such injustice stand? He had the strength of three men! The magic of Avalon ran in his blood! It was his divine destiny as decreed by royal blood to restore and rule the Kingdom of Brittany!

And so he washed up on the shores of Normandy, cold, starving, and barely conscious. 

This really wasn’t how Nimue raised him. 

Normandy was called Rouen at the time (the Vikings and the Franks wouldn’t arrive and intermingle into the Normans for at least four hundred years), and it was part of the Saxon Shore. Galahad washed up near a ruined, abandoned Roman Fort which had been erected to fend off the English pirates, but which now sheltered one group of them. It was this group that found the young Galahad and brought him to their campfire. 

The English in this region were a brutal warrior culture; they came from the East (what is now Germany) to raid and pillage, no better than the Vikings would be some centuries hence; they would go on to entirely replace and very nearly eradicate the native Bretons, and entirely eradicate the Breton way of life. They were the Gauls. The enemies of King Arthur and the Celts who called the island home. They would be the doom of Camelot. The boy had every reason to be afraid. 

But even the English are human, and humans have a narrow range of reactions to finding a cold, sick child in their camp. Galahad found a warm bed and a meal every night while he recovered. It wasn’t long before they put a sword in his hand and sparred with him-- and when they found out what he could do on the battlefield, every Englishmen to the last wanted him to stay in their clan. 

He hardly spoke their language (didn’t speak it at all, at first), but he helped them hunt, and he helped them weave (he had no hesitation to join in “women’s work,” and no one was mocking their best swordsman too loudly), and he made trips with them to Celtic villages to trade. He refused to help them fight other humans, of course. He had no way of telling defense from piracy. But there were hardly any opportunities too; actual raids were rare in the two years he spent with the English. 

Eventually, though, he killed a man. It was inevitable, really; Lancelot was a warrior, and it was death he sought when he sailed from Avalon. But nobody’s ready for their first. It’s never, ever easy. It was a man from another clan, who found Lancelot alone in the woods and assumed he could handle a teenage boy from a rival clan. He was wrong. 

And it was then when the English decided he had earned a new name: Alfwifer, their word for the thrown weapon of an elf. But Galahad didn’t want their English words, and he insisted on a proper name, a name from Brittany, meaning a javelin: Lancelin. In mockery, they called him Olaenk, meaning proud. And he was proud of his achievement, because he had always dreamed of taking on the name Lancelin; he imagined being dubbed a knight by the High King, and rechristened that name, and it made him smile. Perhaps he would have preferred to be rechristened for valiant acts in a tournament rather than warfare, but was this not what a knight does? He promised himself that next time, he would kill to protect the innocent, not just himself. 

Eventually, Nimue sent him a dream and he resolved to return to Britain. There was business to be done. From that point on, he would tell people his name was Sir Lancelot, and that he had been dubbed on a campaign overseas. 

All this to say: Lancelot was not knighted by nobility for his sanitary prowess at court. Lancelot knighted himself, and he did so while living among enemies and in violence, which he was doing because his bravery and perseverance was stronger than the sea. Try not to take from this that Lancelot was a sheltered prince who “found himself” by taking a few gap years to live in poverty overseas before his mom called him back home; although, you certainly could.  Try to take from this that Lancelot would not hesitate to do anything for the ones he loved-- not even for long enough to consider whether it would actually help. 

[moochilatv]

Chasing Zeniths presents: Yesterday's Outsider

Progressive rock music.

"Yesterday's Outsider" by Chasing Zeniths is a powerful and evocative progressive symphonic rock song about frustrations one might experience during a breakup, especially if you are the one putting in most of the effort trying to keep the relationship on track.

Chasing Zeniths is the progressive and symphonic rock brainchild of songwriter, composer, and guitarist Carl Kernie.

Based in Washington State, Carl’s youthful adventures included building high quality furnished snow forts with his younger brother and backpacking the rugged trails of the Cascade Range and Rocky Mountains. After graduating high school at the age of 15, Carl took the opportunity to travel throughout Europe and North America. While living upon such exotic shores as Washington, Colorado, Kansas, Switzerland, and Norway, Carl developed a sincere love of composing music with all the wondrous sounds of modern and traditional instruments and voices.

An avid concert-goer, Carl soon made the acquaintance of fantastically talented musicians, many of whom he now calls friends and several of whom he invited to participate on his debut album Epochs Changing. Some of these collaborators include Timo Somers and Charlotte Wessels, both former members of acclaimed symphonic metal band Delain; Anna Murphy (Eluveitie, Cellar Darling); Vicky Psarakis (The Agonist, Sicksense); and more. Rooted deeply in personal reflection and experiences, Epochs Changing is the result of years of grit and determination to create unique soundscapes that will hopefully inspire others to pursue what is most important to them. When not composing music, Carl is the author of the soon-to-be-released fantasy novel Paper Wings and is currently working on book two in the series.

Roman Engen, Carl Kernie, and Timo Somers (Photo from https://www.facebook.com/chasingzeniths)

The collaborators:

World-renowned virtuoso guitarist Timo Somers hails from The Netherlands and has this to say about Chasing Zeniths:

“It's been so cool meeting a young Carl years ago while I was on tour in the USA and now seeing his musical vision come to life and me being a helping hand in that. His music is very intricate and precise. All the layers fit into each other melodically like a big proggy puzzle, which makes for a very big and bombastic whole. I've been very stoked to put down some of the pieces and am excited to see what insanity he comes up with next!”

Providing a rock solid foundation for the music of Chasing Zeniths, Roman Engen hails from Oslo, Norway and has this to say about the project:

"Working with Carl on this album has truly been a unique experience for me. Coming from a jazz, prog, and death metal background, the music was a really fun challenge and gave opportunity for me to play with artists who come from different styles from what I normally play. Carl masterfully crafted each artist's creative talents into a modern prog masterpiece that I'm really proud to be a part of.” - Roman Engen, bassist.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Carl Kernie (@chasingzeniths)

[46ten]

James Hamilton (Sr) on St Eustatius/Statia, on their census records from 1759-1767

This is the work of Ruud Stelton, Alexandre Hinton, Walter Hellebrand, and Eliza Gramayre, and has been published by the first two researchers in the JAR (2020). [I don't think I've posted about this before and want it for my records!]

They found census records of a James Hamilton in St. Eustatius/Statia, beginning in 1759. From 1763-1765, a wife and two children, along with five enslaved persons, also appear in the census records, which led the researchers to conclude that this is most likely the Hamilton family we're interested in. This supports other evidence Michael W. Newton found of traces of the Hamiltons in St. Eustatius starting in 1755. It also raises the possibility that A. Hamilton may have known some Dutch since early childhood!

The five enslaved persons were two adult women, two girls, and one boy. There's speculation that these belonged to Rachel and had been inherited from her mother, as they do not appear in the census except when Rachel and the two sons are also present.

States Hellebrand: "St. Eustatius was one of the wealthiest and busiest places in the eighteenth century and the Hamiltons would be attracted by its opportunities and anonymity.”

From the JAR article:

"With import duties abolished, an increase in trade activities with ports across the Atlantic World resulted in the construction of a mile-long strip of hundreds of buildings including warehouses, merchant homes, shops, trade offices, brothels, and taverns along Statia’s leeward shore. This bustling trade center, wedged between steep cliffs on one side and the Caribbean Sea on the other, was called the Lower Town. Statia’s population increased from around 2,000 people in the 1740s to 8,476 people in 1790.

..."Most likely, the Hamiltons lived in Upper Town, the island’s main settlement on the cliffs overlooking Lower Town. This is where most middle-class citizens resided. Upper Town was very different from the hustle and bustle of its seaside counterpart, but it was still a busy place where people vended provisions and merchandise in the streets and on the market. Moreover, government buildings, places of worship, and the island’s main fort were all located in Upper Town. Eighteenth-century travelers describe most buildings in Upper Town as single-story wooden constructions topped with a shingled roof. These houses usually had three rooms: one central room that served as a public space and two bedrooms to the sides..

..."With thousands of ships arriving from all over the Atlantic World in the previous decade as well, the situation must have been similar in the 1760s. St. Eustatius attracted people from all over the world who wanted to make a quick fortune. As a result, many different religions were practiced on the island. There were Anglican, Lutheran, Dutch Reformed, and Roman Catholic religious groups, each with their own place of worship. The island was also home to a relatively large Jewish community, which had built an impressive synagogue in Upper Town in the 1730s.... From 1763 to 1765, the Hamiltons lived in one of the most cosmopolitan places in the Caribbean, where they could buy almost any type of good someone in Amsterdam, London, or Paris had access to as well. While Dutch was used in most government correspondence, English was (and still is) the language most commonly spoken on the island.

..."This data provides some insight into the Hamiltons’ standing within society and suggests they were comfortably situated within the island’s middle class."

Newton provided a copy of the records and additional speculation.

I've always been interested in a thorough examination of how Hamilton's experience with the Caribbean trade economy, social stratification, and slave revolts informed his political and financial thinking - I'm not sure there have been in depth explorations of these topics when it comes to islands like St. Eustatius or St. Croix (in comparison to Jamaica, for example, although that just may be the bias of only reading English-speaking researchers).

[scotianostra]

Edinburgh's Coastline

The shoreline fro Granton to Cramond is a mecca for dog walkers, joggers and folk just wandering in general, like myself.

To get here there are a few different options. The buses don't actually take you down to the Village itself, when you see the road there you will understand why.

The number 41 starts at King's Buildings, part of the University, travels through south Edinburgh along Forest Road, The Mound, Hanover Street and George Street through west Edinburgh and into the larger area that is Cramond. I would get off at Gamekeepers Road, it's about a 25-30 minute walk down to the village where you will find the remains of a Roman Fort, a nice wee Kirk (Church) A pub that has been closed, but is recruiting now, so opening soon. A wee walk from the bar and you are down to the harbour. A lot of visitors will want to walk over the causeway to Cramond Islands, but don't get caught out by the tides, plan your journey in advance, the tides will need to be in your favour. Tide times can be found be found here Tide times

There are a number of buses that will drop you at Waterfront Avenue, the 8,19 & 47, but the 16 & 27 will also drop you close enough as well. These buses start at Granton near Edinburgh College. You will see the Granton Gas Holder, aim for that. To the right before you reach this you will spot the restored Train Station of a previous post today. Head down towards the Gas Holder and follow the road round to your right behind the big office block. This Caroline Park Ave, it leads you down to where Granton Castle used to stand, have a wee nose about, The Walled Garden here is open for a couple of hours on Saturday and Sundays. The road/cycle/Walkway lead to West Shore Road, following this to your left leads you down to the East end of Silverknowes Promenade and take you all the way along to Cramond.

If you don't fancy the longer walk along, the 16, 27 & 37 buses take you Silverknowes Parkway, the buses terminate here, then head back the way into town, Silverknowes Golf course is here, to to left is Silverknowes Road, this leads you down to the shore where you can walk either direction toward Cramond, or Granton.

There is a cool place to get refreshments here, either takeaway or sitting in, Boardwalk Beach Club. As well as hot drinks,  ice cream, homemade cake and refreshing iced coolers are available, a welcome pitstop, especially on warmer days, they have ample outside seating, or walk down, catch a bench, or sit on the seafront and enjoy the views to Cramond Island and beyond to Fife.

Another tip, if traveling about Edinburgh the bus service is very good, a fiver will get you unlimited daytime travel. Download Lothian buses app and you wont go wrong  https://www.lothianbuses.com/app/

Look out for more pics as I post them.

[historyfiles]

Portchester Castle : this castle Hampshire on England's south coast began life as a Roman coastal fort, one of their Saxon Shore forts, but it also contains medieval additions which extended its working life across a millennium.

[careerinruins]

Burgh Castle Roman Fort, near Great Yarmouth, Norfolk.

The late 3rd century 'Saxon Shore' fort at Burgh Castle was built as part of the Roman network of coastal defences, and probably abandoned just over a hundred years later. Three of its imposing stone walls survive, almost to their original height, making this one of the best preserved Roman monuments in Britain. The fourth wall collapsed into the surrounding marshes a long time ago.

The land around the fort is a wildlife haven and offers panoramic views over Breydon Water.

It is managed by English Heritage.

[landscapesscenerypeopleplaces]

The Land of Legends - by John Mc Sporran

The Trossachs area of Scotland is a place of myth and legend. On the left in picture is Ben Venue - the mountain of the goblins. As recently as the 16th Century CE, The Urisks (Goblins) were sighted living in caves on the mountain. The Faerie Queen has her palace nearby under the Faerie Knowe. The Lady of the Lake lived on Ellen's Isle on Loch Katrine (below) and the ancient Kings of Scotland would hunt deer and wild boar in the forests. The 'outlaw' Rob Roy MacGregor raided up and down the loch in the birlinns (war galleys) of Clan MacGregor and he was born at Glengyle at the head of the loch. Queen Victoria had a small lodge on the (left) shore of the loch (it's still there). Nearby in the small town of Callander are the remains of Roman forts from the 1st Century CE. The photo was taken from Ben A'an on my 31st climb of the mountain.

Ben A'an - by John Mc Sporran

Ben A'an - the miniature mountain - in the heart of The Loch Lomond and Trossachs National Park, Scotland. I frequently climb Ben A'an for sunrise and sunset, its one of the best viewpoints in Scotland. This photo follows my rules for taking a 'selfie' - Don't look at the camera, no close ups, take it in an iconic location, try to look heroic (even if you're knackered after the climb).

Alp Impressions - by Lucas Furlan

Alp Impressions - by Lucas Furlan

Alp Impressions - by Lucas Furlan

[dry-valleys]

The Islamic city shows itself to be both a homogenous whole and a juxtaposition of sub-units; each neighbourhood is, in some way, a miniature city, complete with everything a city contains.

Jamila Binous.

The latest in my Tunisia series; please see here, here, here, here, here and here for the rest.

Tunisia, which was always home to the Berber people (who make up much of Tunisian DNA but whose language and culture have sadly declined), has also been the home and/or battleground of dozens of other ethnic/religious groups, as below.

What is now Sousse was formerly the Roman city of Hadrametum, built on a site where the Phoenicians and Carthaginians, sea-borne colonists from the Near East, had earlier based themselves.

The Roman Empire also lasted centuries, sprawling as far as what is now my home country of Britain, but it collapsed in the fifth century AD and in 434, Hadrumetum was sacked by the Vandals, who founded a Germanic kingdom in Africa (and whose name has been immortalised as a word for mindless violence, although the historic Vandals were not really like that).

The city was rebuilt by the Byzantines, a sea-borne Christian power based in what is now Turkey, after their emperor Justinian reclaimed these lands in 533 along with most of what had been the Roman Empire, on which the Byzantines modelled themselves.

The Muslims, a largely land-based power, conquered Egypt between 639 and 642 AD and pushed west, but were for centuries threatened by Byzantine ships coming from Europe, which is why coastal forts such as Sousse and Monastir were so important; known as ‘ribats’, this is one of the foremost in Tunisia. The Muslims succeeded in driving the Byzantines out of this area in 730 AD (the majority of Tunisians have spoken Arabic and followed Islam ever since).

Hadrumat was destroyed in this process, but a new kasbah thus founded in on the Roman ruins by Islamic ruler Zidayat Allah I of the Aghlabid dynastyin 825 AD, and was home to 50 warrior monks who defended this city against the Byzantines and any other foe they might face. It spans the ribat and mosque.

The site was too good for the Aghlabids , who were based in Kairouan, to let it go to waste! They used Roman ruins captured from Malta, where I’m going next year, when they seized it in 870 AD; in the Mediterranean everything links in to everything else.

Very unusually in Islam, there is no minaret at this mosque; there was not felt to be a need for one, as the call to prayer (a spellbinding sound that sadly I didn’t hear as my hotel was too far from any mosque) can be heard across the old city from the ribat.

The Aghlabid invasion of Byzantine-held Sicily was launched from these shores in 827 AD; Sousse is geographically nearer to Sicily than it is to the heartland of sub-Saharan Africa, which is one of the reasons why it has among the highest concentrations of European DNA in Tunisia. A 2015 study in the Journal of Human Genetics found that there is more genetic diversity here than in any other part of Tunisia.

In the 11th century a new Christian power, the Normans (who also conquered England!) reclaimed Sicily from the Muslims in 1091 AD and Normans came to Sousse when their ruler, Roger II, set himself up in Africa from 1146 to 1148 AD before being cast out by the Almohads, whose Islamic empire was ruled by Berbers and spanned from what is now Morocco into Europe including what is now Spain.

(The building in 9 is Qubba bin Al-Qhawi, which is believed to date back to the 11th century AD but whose purpose is unknown, except that it might be a tomb; Binous calls it ‘very unusual and bizarre’ but it’s also striking).

There has been two-way traffic across the Mediterranean since Phoenician days, and the advent of Christianity and Islam furthered this; not only was there an empire spanning from Marrakech through Africa and Europe into what is now Spain, Sousse itself has gone back and forth.

In this time the Byzantines, who had been losing ground for centuries, finally collapsed the Muslim Ottoman Empire conquered them in 1453 AD.

In 1492, the last remnants of the Andalusian empire also fell; after the Christian Spaniards reclaimed their country they expelled all Muslims and Jews from their country; Kairouan is, of all the places I saw, the most strongly influenced by Andalusian/European culture.

(As a bastion of Muslim land-based power, Kairouan, which is near to Sousse, is closely linked to coastal forts such as this).

This is most clearly seen in the life of the author and diplomat who was born in 1485 AD and given the name Hasan Muhammad al-Wazzan al-Fasi, in what was then the Muslim state of Grenada, and after the Reconquista his family had to flee to Morocco.

When he grew up he was captured by Spaniards in 1518 and became a Christian, whereupon he voyaged around North Africa, sub-Saharan Africa, Europe and Asia, now called Leo Africanus and gave us an epic account of those places. Throughout this he was always a Mediterranean man at heart, and died in Tunis.

The Spaniards, who were resurgent at this time, battled with the Ottomans, who had also been gaining ground since conquering the Byzantines. At the Siege of Tunis in 1574, the Ottomans won so decisively that they established a centuries-long rule here before the French took over in 1881, and Tunisia gained its independence in 1956 (This is mainly a medieval post; please see my piece about the Martyrs’ Monument for modern Sousse).

In peacetime Tunisia, as well as the Muslims and Jews who had earlier fled from Europe, drew in many Italian and Maltese immigrants. To this date the local dialect, almost a separate language from Standard Arabic, is salted with Italian loanwords.

(Tunisia later became a land of emigration; sadly the majority of Jews have left since 1948, moving both to Israel and to America and Europe, while there are over a million Tunisian Muslims in other countries, an estimated 750,000 of whom in France; our tour guide was a Londoner of Tunisian parentage).

As you can see, a number of cats live here, I think without any one owner, but being fed and cared for by the public; sadly dogs, who are seen as unclean in Islam, do not fare so well; they are fewer in number than cats and usually wander around waste ground looking feral.

[brookstonalmanac]

Events 11.20 (before 1970)

284 – Diocletian is chosen as Roman emperor. 762 – During the An Shi Rebellion, the Tang dynasty, with the help of Huihe tribe, recaptures Luoyang from the rebels. 1194 – Palermo is conquered by Henry VI, Holy Roman Emperor. 1407 – John the Fearless, Duke of Burgundy, and Louis of Valois, Duke of Orléans, agree to a truce, but Burgundy would kill Orléans three days later. 1441 – The Peace of Cremona ends the war between the Republic of Venice and the Duchy of Milan, after the victorious Venetian enterprise of military engineering of the Galeas per montes. 1695 – Zumbi, the last of the leaders of Quilombo dos Palmares in early Brazil, is executed by the forces of Portuguese bandeirante Domingos Jorge Velho. 1739 – Start of the Battle of Porto Bello between British and Spanish forces during the War of Jenkins' Ear. 1776 – American Revolutionary War: British forces land at the Palisades and then attack Fort Lee. The Continental Army starts to retreat across New Jersey. 1789 – New Jersey becomes the first U.S. state to ratify the Bill of Rights. 1805 – Beethoven's only opera, Fidelio, premieres in Vienna. 1815 – The Second Treaty of Paris is signed, returning the French frontiers to their 1790 extent, imposing large indemnities, and prolonging the occupation by troops of Great Britain, Austria, Prussia, and Russia for several more years. 1820 – An 80-ton sperm whale attacks and sinks the Essex (a whaling ship from Nantucket, Massachusetts) 3,200 kilometres (2,000 mi) from the western coast of South America. (Herman Melville's 1851 novel Moby-Dick was in part inspired by this incident.) 1845 – Anglo-French blockade of the Río de la Plata: Battle of Vuelta de Obligado. 1861 – American Civil War: A secession ordinance is filed by Kentucky's Confederate government. 1873 – Garnier Expedition: French forces under Lieutenant Francis Garnier captured Hanoi from the Vietnamese. 1900 – The French actress Sarah Bernhardt receives the press at the Savoy Hotel in New York at the outset of her first visit since 1896. She talked about her impending tour with a troupe of more than 50 performers and her plans to play the title role in Hamlet. 1910 – Mexican Revolution: Francisco I. Madero issues the Plan de San Luis Potosí, denouncing Mexican President Porfirio Díaz, calling for a revolution to overthrow the government of Mexico, effectively starting the Mexican Revolution. 1917 – World War I: Battle of Cambrai begins: British forces make early progress in an attack on German positions but are later pushed back. 1936 – José Antonio Primo de Rivera, founder of the Falange, is killed by a republican execution squad. 1940 – World War II: Hungary becomes a signatory of the Tripartite Pact, officially joining the Axis powers. 1943 – World War II: Battle of Tarawa (Operation Galvanic) begins: United States Marines land on Tarawa Atoll in the Gilbert Islands and suffer heavy fire from Japanese shore guns and machine guns. 1945 – Nuremberg trials: Trials against 24 Nazi war criminals start at the Palace of Justice at Nuremberg. 1947 – The Princess Elizabeth marries Lieutenant Philip Mountbatten, who becomes the Duke of Edinburgh, at Westminster Abbey in London. 1959 – The Declaration of the Rights of the Child is adopted by the United Nations. 1962 – Cuban Missile Crisis ends: In response to the Soviet Union agreeing to remove its missiles from Cuba, U.S. President John F. Kennedy ends the quarantine of the Caribbean nation. 1968 – A total of 78 miners are killed in an explosion at the Consolidated Coal Company's No. 9 mine in Farmington, West Virginia in the Farmington Mine disaster. 1969 – Vietnam War: The Plain Dealer (Cleveland, Ohio) publishes explicit photographs of dead villagers from the My Lai Massacre in Vietnam. 1969 – Occupation of Alcatraz: Native American activists seize control of Alcatraz Island until being ousted by the U.S. Government on June 11, 1971.

[balajitravelstnagar]

Explore Chennai: Best One Day Sightseeing Tour Package

Introduction

Chennai, with its bustling beaches, rich heritage, and vibrant culture, is a gem on India’s southeastern coast. A Chennai local car rental service with Padmavathi Travels included offers a smooth, hassle free experience that lets you enjoy both Chennai’s local sights and the peaceful divinity of Tirupati. 

Chennai Sightseeing Tour Price Details

Explore Chennai’s best attractions with our comfortable and affordable car rental options. Whether you're traveling solo, with family, or a larger group, choose the vehicle that best suits your needs. Book now to experience Chennai in style and comfort!

Chennai Sightseeing Tour Options

City Sightseeing in Chennai

Vehicle: ETIOS / SWIFT DZIRE (AC)

Seating: 4+1

Price: ₹5,000

Details: Ideal for small groups looking for a smooth and affordable city tour.

Car Rental for Chennai City Tour

Vehicle: INNOVA (AC) / ERTIGA (AC)

Seating: 6+1 & 7+1

Price: ₹6,500

Details: Perfect for families or groups wanting a spacious, comfortable ride.

Car and Driver for Chennai City Tour

Vehicle: INNOVA CRYSTA (AC)

Seating: 6+1 & 7+1

Price: ₹7,500

Details: Enjoy luxury and comfort as you tour Chennai’s iconic sites.

Chennai Local Attractions Tour

Vehicle: TEMPO TRAVELLER (AC)

Seating: 12+1

Price: ₹9,500

Details: Ideal for larger groups who want to experience Chennai together.

For bookings and inquiries, contact us at:

Phone: +91- 9962717100

Inclusions & Exclusions for Chennai Sightseeing Tour

Inclusions

Pick Up and Drop Off: Convenient pick up and drop off at your hotel or home.

Vehicle Hire for Sightseeing: Comfortable vehicle provided for your Chennai sightseeing tour as per the selected itinerary.

Driver Batta: Driver allowance included in the tour price.

Parking Charges: All parking fees are covered.

Tollgate Charges: Toll fees for travel across Chennai are included.

Exclusions

Entry Fees for Tourist Attractions: Entry fees to specific sites are not included and must be paid separately by the guest.

Multiple Pick Ups: Only one pick up and drop off location is allowed. Additional pick ups are not provided.

Meals: Breakfast, lunch, and any other meals are not included in the package.

Guide Fees: Guide services are not included. Guests can arrange for a guide independently if desired.

For bookings and inquiries, contact us at:

Phone: +91- 9962717100

Chennai City Tour Package Highlights

Marina Beach

Experience the serene beauty of Marina Beach, the world’s second longest urban beach. Witness a stunning sunrise or sunset over the Bay of Bengal, take a peaceful stroll along the sandy shores, or try water sports for an exhilarating experience.

Fort St. George

Step into history at Fort St. George, the first English fortress in India. Home to a museum with colonial era artifacts, this historic site allows visitors to delve into stories from British rule and admire the grandeur of this well preserved structure.

Kapaleeshwarar Temple

Marvel at the iconic Kapaleeshwarar Temple, known for its stunning Dravidian architecture. The temple’s intricately carved gopuram (tower) is a sight to behold, and visitors can immerse themselves in the temple’s spiritual ambiance by observing devotees and rituals.

Santhome Cathedral Basilica

Explore the serene Santhome Cathedral Basilica, a Roman Catholic church built over the tomb of St. Thomas the Apostle. The neo Gothic architecture, peaceful ambiance, and beautiful stained glass windows make it a must visit site for a unique blend of spirituality and history.

Government Museum

Dive into Chennai’s art, history, and culture at the Government Museum. This iconic museum boasts a vast collection of ancient artifacts, sculptures, and artwork, with galleries dedicated to archaeology, numismatics, and natural history.

Valluvar Kottam

Visit the impressive Valluvar Kottam, a tribute to the revered Tamil poet Thiruvalluvar. This monument features a towering 39 meter stone structure and life size statue of the poet, along with inscriptions from his famous literary work, Thirukkural.

Birla Planetarium

Discover the wonders of space at Birla Planetarium, where fascinating shows and exhibitions on astronomy await. Enjoy captivating sky simulations, explore celestial displays, and deepen your knowledge of the cosmos with interactive sessions.

Guindy National Park

Escape into nature at Guindy National Park, a peaceful sanctuary within Chennai. This green oasis is home to a wide variety of flora and fauna, including deer, blackbucks, and various bird species. Take a nature walk to enjoy the tranquility of this urban retreat.

DakshinaChitra

Experience South India’s cultural heritage at DakshinaChitra, an open air museum showcasing traditional arts, crafts, and architecture. 

Why Choose a Local Car Rental with Padmavathi Travels?

Chennai’s historical significance and cultural depth make it a must visit destination, but its bustling streets and crowded public transport can be a hassle for visitors, especially if you plan to travel beyond the city. Here’s where a reliable local car rental service with Padmavathi Travels comes in handy.

Convenience and Flexibility: You get to move at your own pace, with the freedom to explore Chennai’s attractions, like Marina Beach, Kapaleeshwarar Temple, and Mahabalipuram, and then journey to Tirupati for your Balaji Darshan.

Comfortable Travel: Sit back and relax in a comfortable car without worrying about bus or train schedules, making for a smooth journey.

Expert Local Drivers: Drivers who know Chennai and the Tirupati route well provide a safer, faster journey and often share local insights along the way.

Time Saving: Public transport can be slow and indirect. A car rental is often faster, especially for travelers looking to make the most of their time in both Chennai and Tirupati.

Key Benefits of a Chennai Car Rental with Padmavathi Travels

Seamless Chennai to Tirupati Journey: With a car rental, you can combine both experiences effortlessly, transitioning from the vibrant cityscape to the calm of Tirupati.

Hassle Free Darshan: Packages with Balaji Darshan tickets help you avoid long queues and enjoy a more structured darshan experience.

Exploration Beyond Temples: With a flexible itinerary, you can visit popular stops like the Sri Padmavathi Temple in Tiruchanur, ensuring a complete pilgrimage experience.

24/7 Support: Many car rental companies offer round the clock support, so any travel concerns or requests can be addressed immediately.

Conclusion

Exploring Chennai’s cultural richness and experiencing the divinity of Padmavathi Travels in Tirupati is an unforgettable journey that blends spirituality with adventure. Choosing a local car rental offers the comfort, convenience, and flexibility you need to make the most of your Chennai to Tirupati tour. 

From a local car rental with Balaji Darshan offers an unparalleled way to experience South India.

For bookings and inquiries, contact us at:

Phone: +91- 9962717100

Email: padmavathitravels1999@gmail.com.

Website: www.balajidarshanbooking.com

Address: 18, 3rd Avenue, New Colony, Arumbakkam, Chennai, Tamil Nadu 600 106.

Book your car rental today and make memories that last a lifetime!

Frequently Asked Questions 

1. What is the best time to book a car rental with Balaji Darshan?

It’s best to plan your journey between October and March when the weather in Chennai is cooler and pleasant for sightseeing. 

2. How long is the trip from Chennai to Tirupati?

The distance from Chennai to Tirupati is approximately 135 kilometers, which usually takes about 3.5 hours by car, depending on traffic. With a local car rental, you’ll be able to travel directly to Tirupati after a full day of Chennai sightseeing or dedicate a day entirely to Balaji Darshan.

3. Can we customize our itinerary?

Yes, many car rental services in Chennai offer flexible packages where you can customize your itinerary based on your preferences

4. What types of cars are available for rental?

Most car rental services offer a range of vehicles to suit different group sizes and budgets. Common options include compact cars, sedans, SUVs, and luxury vehicles for a more premium experience.

5. Is the Balaji Darshan ticket included in the car rental package?

Many car rental packages provide an option to include Balaji Darshan tickets for added convenience. 

6. How much does a Chennai local car rental with Balaji Darshan cost?

The cost of a car rental from Chennai with Balaji Darshan depends on factors such as vehicle type, duration, and inclusions like toll fees, driver charges, and additional temple stops. 

[explorebritain]

Ten Reasons to Visit England's Jurassic Coast

The Jurassic Coast, a UNESCO World Heritage Site located in southern England, offers an unparalleled journey through 185 million years of Earth’s history. Stretching from Exmouth in East Devon to Studland Bay in Dorset, this 96-mile coastline boasts stunning natural beauty, rich geological heritage, and a variety of activities. Here are 10 compelling reasons to visit England's Jurassic Coast.

1 Geological Marvels The Jurassic Coast is a treasure trove of geological wonders. Visitors can witness layers of rock formations that chronicle the Triassic, Jurassic, and Cretaceous periods. These ancient cliffs reveal fascinating stories of Earth’s past, making it a paradise for geology enthusiasts and curious travelers alike.

Jurassic Coast & Durdle Door Private Day Trip*

2 Fossil Hunting The coastline is renowned for its abundant fossils. Beaches such as Lyme Regis and Charmouth are perfect for fossil hunting, offering the chance to find remnants of ancient marine creatures. Guided fossil walks are available, providing insight into the prehistoric world and tips on how to discover these hidden treasures.

3 Stunning Coastal Walks The South West Coast Path runs along the Jurassic Coast, offering some of the most breathtaking coastal walks in the UK. Whether you're trekking the dramatic cliffs of West Bay or the serene shores of Lulworth Cove, the diverse landscapes provide endless opportunities for exploration and adventure.

4 Iconic Landmarks The Jurassic Coast is home to several iconic natural landmarks. Durdle Door, a magnificent limestone arch, and Old Harry Rocks, a series of chalk formations, are must-see sights. These landmarks not only offer stunning views but also serve as spectacular photo opportunities.

5 Charming Coastal Towns The coastline is dotted with picturesque towns and villages, each with its unique charm. Lyme Regis, known as the "Pearl of Dorset," boasts a historic harbor, quaint shops, and delightful seafood restaurants. Sidmouth, with its Regency architecture and tranquil gardens, provides a perfect blend of natural beauty and cultural heritage.

From Poole: Round-trip Jurassic Coastal Cruise to Swanage*

6 Rich Marine Life The waters off the Jurassic Coast are teeming with marine life. Boat trips and diving excursions offer the chance to encounter dolphins, seals, and a variety of seabirds. The region’s diverse marine habitats make it a prime spot for wildlife enthusiasts and photographers.

7 Historical Significance The area is steeped in history, with ancient forts, castles, and ruins scattered along the coast. Corfe Castle, a medieval fortress with a thousand-year history, and the Roman town house in Dorchester provide a glimpse into England’s rich historical tapestry.

8 Educational Opportunities The Jurassic Coast offers numerous educational experiences. The Lyme Regis Museum and the Etches Collection in Kimmeridge house extensive fossil collections and interactive exhibits. These museums provide valuable insights into the natural history and geological significance of the area.

9 Outdoor Activities Beyond walking and fossil hunting, the Jurassic Coast offers a plethora of outdoor activities. Kayaking, paddleboarding, and coasteering are popular ways to explore the coastline from a different perspective. The varied terrain also provides excellent conditions for rock climbing and paragliding.

Charmouth fossil hunting walks

10 Culinary Delights The region is a haven for food lovers, with a rich array of local produce and seafood. Freshly caught crab, locally sourced cheeses, and traditional cream teas are just a few culinary delights to enjoy. Numerous food festivals and farmers’ markets further celebrate the area’s gastronomic heritage.

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[at-least-three-bears]

A busy month for castles and other such things!

Corfe (top right) was most visually stunning, cos of being HUGE and nicely situated. Slighted during the civil war, chunks of it are trying Very Hard to fall down the hill.

Carisbrooke (top left) was most interesting, walls nearly completely circumnavigable (definitely a word, tumblr, i don't deserve that wibbly red line), and a gloriously steep set of stairs to get up to the motte. NOT slighted during the civil war for a change, but has the claim to fame that charles-1 was stored here for a bit before getting Severely Shortened

Portchester (middle right) was most fun to explore, in large part cos of having company for that one, but it's good anyway. Really good interpretation boards as well, very... interpretable! It's in the corner of a roman shore fort, always fun to reuse older defences in castley things.

(also featured, Dudley castle (middle left, which is at a zoo), quarry bank and sherborne-old (bottom left and right) )

[travel-to-jordan]

Cycling through Jordan, are you interested!

What is the first thing that strikes your mind when you hear the word “Jordan”? Probably, its splendid ancient architecture, magnificent holy sites and local cuisines.

Discover Jordan in brief 

Located at the heart of the Middle East, Jordan is one of the most preferred destinations for visitors worldwide. This amazing country is home to various archaeological sites, ancient wonders and breathtaking landscapes. From the historical capital of Amman to the enchanting site of Petra, Mount Nebo and the Dead Sea, connecting with the best travel agency in Jordan will allow you to have an unforgettable journey and delve into the immersive culture of this country.

In this blog, get ready to embark on Jordan tours and travel plans, along with extraordinary adventures as we unlock the hidden treasures of this remarkable destination.

Cycling in Jordan: 

Cycling in Jordan is an excellent way to experience the country’s natural beauty, rich history, and warm culture up close. Whether you’re seeking an adrenaline rush or a leisurely ride through historical sites, Jordan’s cycling opportunities have something for every enthusiast. Just remember to stay hydrated, respect local customs, and savor the unique moments that only a cycling journey in Jordan can offer.

With Jordan’s ideal weather most of the year, countless Jordanians frequently plan weekend cycling adventures with friends and loved ones where they choose to explore different routes in various areas around Jordan. Many tourists to the kingdom also pre-plan their cycling adventures with trained tour guides in unique areas, such as a two-day route from the historic Nabatean stone city of Petra to the coastal Jordanian city of Aqaba.

Sample of YOLO daily cycling tours: 

Δ Madaba – Cycling to Dead Sea Via Mount Nebo: Transfer to Madaba, the City of the Mosaics. Madaba is the most important Christian centre in Jordan and best known for its Byzantine mosaics. The most important of these is the sixth century mosaic of Jerusalem and the Holy Land, which covers the floor of the Greek Orthodox church of St George. This morning we can marvel at its detail and natural colour.

Today’s ride starts with a 4.3mi (7km) mild ascent up to Mount Nebo, reputedly the burial site of Moses. We take a pitstop at the top for a spectacular view over the valley below. From here it’s a fantastic descent to the shores of the Dead Sea. Parts of this descent are quite steep but support will be at hand and you can take your time. We follow the coast on a smooth, paved surface to Suwaima where we can change and take a float in the waters.

You will need to be in Madaba to start the cycling or we will arrange transportation for you to get you there. Distance: 14 KM / Time: 3 hours / Dificulty: Moderate / On Road 100%

Δ Madaba Cycling to Mukaweir: 

Within an hour’s drive from Madaba along the picturesque Kings’ Highway, is Mukawir (Machaerus), the hilltop stronghold of Herod the Great. Upon Herod’s death, his son Herod Antipas inherited the fortress and it is from here that he ordered John the Baptist to be beheaded after Salome’s fateful dance of the seven veils. The 1st Century AD Roman-Jewish historian, Josephus, identifies the awe-inspiring site of Machaerus (modern-day Mukawir) as the palace / fort of herod Antipas, who was the Roman-appointed ruler over the region during the life of Jesus Christ. It was here, at this hilltop fortified palace, overlooking the Dead Sea region and the distant hills of Palestine and Israel that herod imprisoned and beheaded John the Baptist after Salome’s fateful dance. “he was beheaded after Salome’s fateful dance” Mathew 14:3-11. Like it’s sister site of Masada on the opposite side of the Dead Sea, Machaerus was also the scene of a Roman siege during the first Jewish revolt against Rome.

you will need to be in Madaba to start the cycling or we will arrange transportation for you to get you there. Distance: 33 KM / Time: 3-4 hours one way. / Dificulty: Moderate / On Road 100%

Δ Petra cycling Wadi Araba through Little Petra: 

Today’s ride starts from Petra, Enjoy a stunning 25 kilometre descent, dropping around 900 metres on a little-used winding country road through the dry mountains of Wadi Araba into the lush greenery of the Jordan Valley. The views on the way down are stunning! We will get back to Petra Using the Bus. 

you will need to be in Petra to start the cycling or we will arrange transportation for you to get you there. Distance: 25 KM / Time: 3 hours. / Dificulty: Moderate / On Road 50%, Off Road 50%

Δ Dead Sea Cycling to Wadi Mujib (Siq Trail in Wadi Mujib ) – Back to the Dead Sea: Today’s ride starts from Dead Sea, along the eastern shore of the Dead Sea. The road is mostly flat but here and there we encounter long undulations. The views are very special with the Dead Sea on our right with Israel’s Desert visible on the other side of the Dead Sea, and the colourful hills of Moab, interspersed with clusters of palm trees and oases on our left. we stop at Wadi Mujib, proudly called the ‘Grand Canyon of Jordan’. The spectacular chasm is also significant as the historic boundary between the ancient Amorites (to the north) and the Moabites (to the south). Moses is believed to have walked through Wadi Mujib, then known as the Arnon Valley. The King’s Highway crosses the wadi’s upper reaches, while its lower reaches fall within the Mujib Biosphere Reserve – normally accessed from the Dead Sea Hwy. 

The Siq Trail is a popular hiking route within the Wadi Mujib Nature Reserve, located along the eastern shore of the Dead Sea. The trail takes you through a narrow, deep gorge, offering a unique and breathtaking experience. As you start your hike, you’ll be immediately immersed in the natural beauty of Wadi Mujib. Towering sandstone cliffs surround you, creating a dramatic and awe-inspiring landscape. The sunlight filters through the cracks, creating fascinating patterns on the rock walls. One of the highlights of the Siq Trail is the opportunity to wade through water. The trail follows a riverbed, and at times, you’ll find yourself walking in shallow water. Be prepared to get wet and wear appropriate water shoes or sandals that provide a good grip.

you will need to be in the Dead Sea to start the cycling or we will arrange transportation for you to get you there. This daily cycling can be done during this period (01. April – 31. October) Distance: 35 KM / Time: 3-4 hours. / Dificulty: Moderate / On Road 100%

Planning for the trip?

Do you want to experience the luxury tours of Jordan like never before? Then look no further than YOLO Jordan Tours and Travel. We offer the best Jordan travel packages that will allow you to discover the enchanting hidden gems of this incredible country. From the historical sites of Amman to the breathtaking desert landscape of Wadi Rum, our expert guides will offer customised journey planning to let you experience an adventure you will never forget!

Click here to book your trip today!