#The banana grove at the distance: We exist.

[miusmusings]

The way they're giving absolute horniness and eating a Meal after making me cry. There better be fics on ao3 rn

[iknowthisgirlfromgeorgia-blog]

cliché | 01

☽ pairings: hoseok x oc, taehyung x oc

☽ genre/warnings: fluff

☽ wordcount: 2.4k

☽ chapters: 1 | 2 (coming soon)

☽  ➝ summary: moving abroad for university comes with many surprises. a new house, a new life and most of all . . . new neighbours.

✧ ･ﾟ : * ✧ ･ﾟ : *

“I feel like I’ve been reborn,” Mae sounded out with an airy chuckle, making Saffron shake her head gently, suddenly awakened from her daylight slumber. Today was their first day abroad. 

A whole new country, a whole new house and a completely different life awaited the two just behind the corner, and Saffron couldn’t really say she was ready for it. The girl didn’t like changes, not at all, but this one simply had to be pursued. Moving to Canada was a big step for two college-aged women, but life can throw you into deep waters unexpectedly and without a warning. That’s what happened to her and Mae.

The letter that came in the mail one Saturday evening was a document Mae would cherish for the rest of her life. How could a little, beige envelope bring one such pride and joy? Well, how could it not? Getting into the college of your dreams was something any young, ambitious human would be ecstatic about, and that's exactly what Mae was clutching her acceptance letter from the University of Ottawa.

 Saffron herself was simultaneously upset and excited about the news. Mae would finally leave for Canada to pursue her dream, but on the downside . . . she’d be gone from her life, for who knows how long? The female couldn’t really stomach the thought of her best friend being gone for the entirety of collage. Heck, wasn't that when most people peaked? Saffron didn't want to experience her best without Mae. Yes, FaceTime and WhatsApp existed, but she knew maintaining a friendship would be difficult that way. Not even mentioning timezones.

What would happen to seeing each other every other day? What about movie nights and banana pancakes on Sunday mornings? Oh, Saffron loved Mae’s pancakes. Waking up at noon, dressed in her comfiest sweater, leaning against the kitchen island while watching her friend prepare breakfast was a ritual Saffron would never want to abandon. The light, fluffy dough engulfed in a thick, sugary syrup and, if the season allowed it, fresh berries was delectably a taste of heaven. The mere thought of the morning treat made the female’s mouth water with nostalgia and pure sentiment.

Enough pancake talk, though. The red-head females head felt like a storm cloud, filled with paroxysms of electricity and emotions she couldn’t really fathom with the little energy she had. There weren’t many options in this case, and the two both knew it. Saffron could stay there, in Seoul. The city they have both lived in for almost two decades now . . . or do the unthinkable. It took a long, troublesome week, but the decision was finally made.

 And it was the unthinkable option.

 They left within a month of the letters arrival. Mae was sceptical of Saffron's choice at first, worried about her friends sudden, possibly risky decision, but the girl wouldn’t be turned down that easily, and they both knew that very well.

”I’m coming with you, and that’s my final decision,” were Saffron’s final words as the two made their way past airport security. Her voice didn’t dare tremble, and that had to be a sign that she was sure of her decision to the very core of her being. Mae was silent this entire time, exhausted from hours upon hours of planning, packing and worrying, but Saffron couldn’t help but notice the slightest smile form on the girl’s lips once they boarded. It stayed there for the remainder of the flight, giving Saffron hope for a successful fresh start.

 Here they were now, sitting on the floor of their brand new living room, surrounded by countless cardboard boxes scribbled by black Sharpie. The condition of the house was more than decent, especially considering its long history of occupants! Cozy, affordable and somewhat well situated; the perfect combination for two highschool graduates. Not to mention the landscapes! Besides being surrounded by a nice neighbourhood, their new house was a short distance away from a forest. Who knew what secrets roamed about in the area? It was only a matter of time until the female would be able to pounce around, discovering every corner of the area.

 Saff’s hand traced the groves between planks of the wooden floor, noticing each bruise and crevice. It felt so cold and strange compared to the carpeted floors of her old apartment. The walls were empty and dulled, but clean. A paint job was possibly needed, but how hard could that be? It was difficult not to picture the moment the two would be able to start decorating them. Perhaps a bookshelf full of Mae’s favourite cookbooks, or an array of modern art pieces found at garage sales? The thought of marking the house as their own itself was enough to make Saffron’s heart skip a beat, cheeks flushed with excitement.

”Earth to Bae Saffron?” The female’s head shook once more, realising she was zoning out. ”Jet lag?” Mae questioned with a soft smile, lips stained a soft crimson.

To Saffron, it was always surprising how effortlessly put-together the girl could look. Ash blonde hair frizz-less, tied into a loose sock-bun with a few strands of hair framing her heart-shaped face. Her casual look was completed with an oversized, maroon hoodie draped over her slim figure. Simple, yet exquisite.

Saffron let out a soft sigh pass her lips at the girls playful question. What was occupying her mind wasn’t fatigue, but a sense of excitement and hopefulness for the future. After all, the two hadn’t had a chance to meet any of their neighbours as of yet, or even explore the area. Despite the obvious anxiety that came with meeting new people, Saffron was quite adamant on experiencing that part of moving. The female didn’t exactly have many friends back in Seoul, so starting fresh could be a chance for new relationships, platonic or not.

 "Hey, you," Mae started off once more, perhaps realising her question wasn’t to be answered anytime soon. “I did some thinking overnight, and I landed on a pretty neat idea,” She remarked, voice laced with excitement and pride.

Oh boy.

Mae's ideas had a tendency of being outgoing, and usually involved doing things Saffron normally wouldn't even think of. “What if we went out to meet our neighbours tomorrow? Try and settle in better.” She proposed, a smile lingering on her lips as she shrugged slightly, trying to come off as nonchalant. That was the typical Mae, her and her strange gift of knowing exactly what hr friends were thinking of at the given moment. Scary, but oddly amusing.

“Sure, why not.” Saffron answered, giving the older female a friendly smile and nod. It was quite relieving to have the female suggest socializing herself. After all, it was a burden off of Saffron’s shoulders.

“We are settled pretty close to the university campus, after all. I wouldn’t be surprised if we had more students scattered around the neighbourhood.” She chimed, brushing a stray fragment of hair behind her ear before digging her hands in the box labelled ‘books’.

 Saffron acknowledged her friend's comment with another brisk nod, before letting out a yawn, shifting her position to stand up with a pained groan. ”You’re getting old!” Mae laughed wickedly at her younger friend’s aching, getting an eye-roll thrown towards her as a sign of playful annoyance. Saffron couldn't help but let out her own series of giggles at her own misfortune, arms now extended to stretch out her joints.

“Damnit!” Mae cursed out suddenly as Saff’s own eyebrows stitched together in question. “What’s wrong?” She asked, as Mae cupped her face with a groan. ”I'm missing a box. It should be in the garage, or outside on the porch, perhaps . . . ”* she finally muttered, getting a soft ‘oh’ from her friend once she realised the issue. “I could fetch for you.” She told her simply, giving the older a reassuring grin. It’s not like she had much more to do, anyway. Unpacking boxes was boring and hefty, and the girl would rather be doing anything else if she was to be frank.

”Would you? Ah, you’re such a dear.” Mae spoke hoarsely, doing her best to imitate an elderly lady, which she definitely nailed. Giving her one last chuckle, Saff hopped out of the room, humming a soft tune to herself. Nothing in particular, merely a series of tones that went well together. Hand sliding into the pocket of her shorts, she made her way down the stairs and into the living room area. It didn’t look much different from any other room in the house, considering all that it held was a bunch of cardboard.

Saffron’s eyes searched each door in sight, as she finally managed to locate the entrance which surprisingly didn't have any distinguishing features that would help her in her task. Embarrassingly enough, the girl was still in deep confusion about the layout of their new home, even a week into moving in. She sighed in frustration, nimble fingers lacing around the metal doorknob before turning it with ease, door creaking upon pull.

 The weather was better than she would’ve ever expected from Canada. The sky was a deep grey shade, interrupted by a few rays of sunshine coming through. Air fresh and slightly damp, a neat compromise that Saff was somewhat okay with. The girl breathed in, arms raised as she allowed herself for a more thorough stretch, without any of Mae’s comments this time. "Now, where the hell is that damned box, huh?"

 ”Hey, you!” Saffron looked around, eyes widened at the sudden, unfamiliar voice coming from somewhere, clearly nearby. “Yeah, you. With the orange hair!” Her breath caught in her throat as she realised she was obviosuly the one being spoken to. She couldn't imagine anyone else sporting the bold shade of ginger she rocked.

Eyes narrowed and eyebrows raised, she finally caught sight of the only other human in the perimeter.

 A man, roughly in his twenties. Hair a soft brown, curling here and there to create an effortlessly flawless brunette arrangement. Skin fair and spotless even from several meters away, Saffron could clearly make out his dark brown eyes and pink lips which were twisted into the sweetest grin the girl had ever seen.

Despite the delicious sight in front of her, she didn’t allow herself any closer to the male without the proper questioning. “And who’s speaking?” She asked with a furrowed brow, a slight scowl on her face. She could only blame her hostile attitude on staying inside for the past week.

The man let out a warm laugh, and Saffron realised the silliness of her question only then when it was too late. He was sitting on the porch of a neighbouring house, fingers loosely gripping onto the rim of a can of soda. “Just a friendly neighbour. Isn’t it obvious?” He stood up, leaving the comfort of the wooden step as he made his way towards the fence. Saffron’s cheeks flushed a heated pink, partly due to the embarrassing nature of the situation, but mostly because of the man’s awfully confident stature. Hands rested against the top of the wooden fence, the female realised it was short enough to act as support for the man’s head as he propped it in the palm of his hand comfortably.

“I saw the moving van come through not too long ago. You’re new around here, aren't you?” He questioned, making Saffron take a cautious step forward. “We are. My best friend and I moved in about a week ago from Seoul. For university, and all that,” the female responded, arms crossing as she cocked her head to the side, slightly taken back by the man’s kindness.

 ”Seoul? We have more in common than I thought!” He exclaimed in child-like excitement, making Saffron chuckle softly at his beaming face.

“I moved here with my friend a year ago. Both of us study at UO,” Saffron’s eyes left his frame for a second, hearing the front door open once more, a familiar creaking making her wince.

“Saff?” Mae called out, approaching the short girl briskly, hand hooking around her shoulder comfortably. The man gave the newcomer a polite smile, studying both women closely. "Saff, huh? Nice to meet you. I’m Hoseok," He remarked.

“Nice to meet you, neighbour. I’m Mae, we moved here this week," the female chimed out, giving Saffron's shoulder a squeeze of encouragement. "But you probably know that already considering how long you two have been talking,” Mae chuckled teasingly, placing a hand on her hip as she gave Hoseok a nod.

Saffron gulped at the girl’s statement, realising the entire reason she was outside in the first place. “Funnily enough, we've been very keen on meeting our neighbours. It’s nice to walk into one of them like this!”* Mae acknowledged, getting a nod of agreement from her friend and a warm chuckle from their neighbour. "Well, I'm very happy we ran into each other, then!" he beamed, giving Saffron a conforting look. Was it visible she was nervous?

"Hey, we should do a formal greeting one day. Are you busy tomorrow?” Mae inquired, giving Saffron a gentle shake. Was she teasing, or did she want the female to take initiative? Whatever it was, Saffron was too focused on forming coherent sentences in her head to say anything.

 “Hobi!! Where the hell did you go, again?!" Another male voice came from inside the house, slightly deeper than Hoseok’s and muffled due to the distance. “Well, that’s my call. I’ll see you around?” He winked, before running back on his porch and disappearing back into the house, leaving behind only the possibly empty can of pop.

Saff let out a sigh as soon as the man left her field of vision, hands reaching to rub at her temples furiously. “This was . . . ” Mae started off, as she let go of the girl’s shoulder and proceeded to walk into the garage, locating the box she was looking for. “ . . . tiring?” Saffron finished off, earning an amused chuckle from Mae. “I was about to say exciting, but that works, too,”

✧ ･ﾟ : * ✧ ･ﾟ : *

[creativitytoexplore]

The Innocent and the Beautiful by Iftekhar Sayeed https://ift.tt/2YcutQS In Bangladesh, CIA agent Maryam becomes a target for assassination and flees with her lover - but neither are sure where their loyalties lie; by Iftekhar Sayeed.

"The death of 1.7 million children through sanctions in Iraq has aroused no interest whatsoever in the drawing rooms of Bangladesh, as far as agent Maryam has been able to judge." Something seemed to trouble Maryam, as her fingers hovered above the keyboard; the hum of the air-conditioner rose above the tap-tap of her fingers; she smelled the starched pillows and breathed heavily; in the light from the quite redundant lamp, she deleted 'death' and typed 'murder'. She sighed relief, turned off the laptop, disengaged the wireless modem, switched off the lamp, and turned on her side to get some sleep.

I hated her. So I avoided the street - road 9A, Dhanmandi - where she worked and waited for a trishaw or an auto rickshaw every weekday at around 5:00. The situation was dire. After the Gulf and Af-Pak wars, the mujahideen had grouped themselves together, as elsewhere, in Bangladesh, as freedom fighters. No empire can exist without collaborators, and the local elite and government both sided with the American and European powers. A death-squad was formed with the aid of the imperial west, and an unknown number of jihadis died in so-called 'cross-fires', the euphemism for assassination. It was then that the jihadis changed strategy. Instead of bombs and bullets, which had to be bought abroad and smuggled in, they resorted to - knives. An expert 'Knifer', as they came to be called, could aim for a target's heart from a distance safe enough for a get-away. Less efficient ones would stab in a busy thoroughfare, or operate from shadows. The frequent power failures were a boon. The targets also were changed. Instead of attacking government buildings with bombs or agents of the state with bullets, they went for members of what is known politely as 'civil society'. The collaborators, they had figured out, were to be found among the academics and artists who gave legitimacy to collaboration. Two of their biggest kills were a lawyer and an economist, both PhDs from American universities. And where did feminine, friendly Maryam fit in all this? I first met her at the intellectual salon of a socialite: she wore a light green chiffon saree that went with her fair complexion, her dark eyes, dark brows; her arms were bare and I could imagine the rest of her. She asked pointed questions about politics and society, and then sat back, legs crossed, listening in earnest. It was flattering to be heard like that. Soon, we were lovers, meeting regularly in my flat. It was after one of our devouring love-makings that she came out with it. "I actually work for the CIA, Zafar." By then she knew my views, knew how I would feel, and that prompted her to be frank. "After all, we're all collaborators." She was right there: we were all collaborators. And what was the nature of her collaboration? "Nothing much: I just listen in on conversations and ask questions and report what people are thinking and saying. It's not much, Zafar. I just collaborate a bit more closely, that's all." That was the last time we met.

On this fateful day, I spotted her on road 9A, waiting for her usual trishaw. There was traffic on the road, but I stayed focused. She was in a red-and-black shalwar-kameez, her arms bare, revealing teasingly her white shoulders and armpits. Then our eyes met: fortunately I looked away, and watched with horror a man, pillion-riding on a motorcycle, raise a knife towards Maryam. "Maryam, get down!" I screamed, and ran towards the bike. The knife missed, as she ducked. The bike wove between the vehicles, and disappeared. "That was close, Maryam," I said, panting, as I reached her crouching figure. She was weeping. "They tried to kill me!" she repeated. It was as if she couldn't believe that they would try to kill her. And they would try again. Nowhere in Dhaka was safe for her anymore. I could feel eyes watching us, reporting, sharing... Bystanders began to gather around, so I grabbed her arm and asked her if she had any money. She nodded, wiping away her tears. I had some money, enough to buy a pair of tickets. I hailed a trishaw and we made our way towards Kolabagan. We were greeted at the counter of Shohag bus service by the usual smell of urine emanating from the toilet inside. The day was hot and humid, and we were both perspiring. Inside, we sat at the back of the stifling room, a few fans whirring overhead. Our bus wouldn't leave until 11:00. There were a few passengers waiting for the next bus. "You mustn't cry here, Maryam. Let's not draw attention to ourselves. We'll be safe in a few hours." I went out, bought a mild sedative, and a bottle of cola. I made a call to Sujon Chakma from my mobile. His bungalow would be ready for us. The cola was cool against the parching throat. "There's something I have to tell you, Zafar." Her voice sounded cracked. She poured the cola down her mouth. "Not now. We'll have a chance to talk later." After interminable minutes, the Chakma boys and girls began to appear. They were headed home: to the hills in the south-east, to Khagrachari and beyond. They spoke in their dialect which I could vaguely decipher. You could tell them, not only by the language, but the slanted, Tibetan eyes. They were mostly students, but now and then a couple with a child would plump down in the seats before us. I kept a watchful eye open for any of my race. The bus left promptly at 11:00. We would be at Khagrachari by dawn. Most of the journey would be over hills, after the left turn at Baroier Hat at Feni. We stopped at night at a road-side restaurant where I forced Maryam to eat some rice and - very spicy - chicken curry. I was ravenous, and thirsty. Fear had been relegated to remoter parts of the mind. Fatigue began to take over. We reached Baroier Hat just before sunrise. The buses - a Shohag, two S. Alams, and a BRTC bus - stopped to form a convoy, for the road was potentially dangerous. Armed bands, carryovers from a recent insurgency, roamed the hills. Outside, there were five policemen in steel-grey shirts, blue trousers, green felt boots and deep purple berets. Each had a rifle. They all got on our bus, which was a relief, and then we started. At Jaliapara, they got off. We went a little further ahead and two policemen got on - they sat on the raised leatherette bench next to the driver. The one nearest me was called Selim - his shoulder-tag said as much. He was dark with close-cropped hair. The other one was fairer. Selim cradled a rifle on his lap. He held a black walkie-talkie in his right hand, close to his mouth, though he wasn't speaking. The magazines were in a holder attached to his belt at the hip. The other policeman held a rifle between his thighs, nozzle upward. Neither men wore a beret - not very surprisingly, given the heat. They got off a after a few minutes. It was a switchback road. We watched the sun rise - a pale, orange disk - above the forested hills. The gibbous moon floated like a spectre in the west, trying to steal light. The sky was cloudlessly blue. We now turned east, then completely west, the sun now on our right, now on our left. We were bending every way. The sides of the road were sometimes sheer drops of several hundred feet - into seeming green jungle. Sometimes a green wall rose on our right and a sheer drop sloped to our left. Sometimes the road was a break between two hills. The colour was green - green bamboo groves, green banana leaves, green teak leaves, tall green grass. The sun became less benign. From orange, it turned gold. The relative cool of dawn evaporated. The golden rays beat down on our heads. Maryam was nodding in sleep. Various vehicles crossed us and we overtook various others. One pick-up was stacked with bamboo poles; another with jackfruit. We overtook trucks laden with goods under brown canvas. There were regular sentry posts roofed with bamboo and with bamboo sides on hill-tops. Sometimes a soldier with a walkie-talkie could be seen. Tribal women in bright thamis and blouses worked on hillsides. The road ascended towards Alutila and then descended, with many a spiral in either direction. At times, one espied a bend in the road up ahead or below, a graceful inflection. We drove through seemingly ghost towns and deserted bazaars. Only the fascias of the stores spoke to us: STAR cigarette, one announced in blue and white, was bright with its own light. The people were still asleep. Maryam had woken up, and the majesty of the scene held her in submission a while. But she finally spoke above the clatter of the bus and the moan of the engine. "I have to tell you something, Zafar." "The Knifers have put you on their hit list, Maryam." She shook her head vigorously. "They weren't the Knifers." I was surprised, but I didn't want to talk about it then. "Look!" I pointed to egrets flying in echelon. I had seen the knifer, taking aim, casting his missile. What was she talking about? The taste of fear, a dryness of the mouth, a quickening of the pulse, returned.

We got off before the bus reached Alutila. "But there's nothing here!" insisted the driver, his mouth red from chewing betel leaf. I nodded, and got off. The passenger next to him on the leatherette chair continued to sleep with his mouth open. It was good that nobody had noticed, except the driver and his sleepy helper. We disappeared among the teak trees. I soon found the faint footpath that led to Sujon's bungalow. Sujon was an affluent businessman, and he built a modest retreat in the forest for friends like me to spend a few pensive days in. I say 'modest' but it had all the creature comforts of home. The bungalow of whitewashed walls and green, sloping tin roof stood in a clearing in the forest. "Sahib, you have arrived!" The disembodied voice belonged to Robindro Tripura, caretaker of the place. He appeared from behind the trees, a short, dark, stocky character in a lungi. He looked from one of us to the other, for we were quite a sight. It wasn't so much the fatigue as the stress of running that had got the better of us. "I have made omelette and bread," he announced, and draped his coloured towel over his shoulder. The inside of a forest has a stifling humidity. Cicadas crooned without cease. Needless to say, we downed the breakfast in a trice. Next, we proceeded to drink a gallon of water. Robindro told us that the shower was ready and before leaving for the city, informed me that he would try to get clothing for the lady the next day. Considerate Robindro! I stood in the shower, washing off the heat, the fear, the sweat, and the stress. I just stood there, forgetting everything. When I entered the bedroom, I found a showered and refreshed Maryam sitting on the edge of the bed. She wore one of my striped shirts - and nothing else. After we made love like enemies, we got under the sheet and lay there, each with separate thoughts. She was the first to speak. "Do you hate yourself for making love to me?" I did, so I said nothing. "You don't have to. I have a lot to say, Zafar." Her voice came soft and contrite. "I'm listening," I said, opening my eyes, and gazing into hers. I thought again how mesmerizing were those dark circles. "After you left me, I found I was pregnant." I sat up. "What? You should have -" "What would have been the use? You hated me! You wouldn't have married me, and even if you had, what kind of marriage would it have been? Anyway, marriage was out of the question for me as well. I had the abortion soon after." I lay back, breathing a sigh. "But that's not all. Having nearly been a mother, I began to realize what those Iraqi mothers must have gone through. Thank God we didn't meet then, Zafar! My mind was so confused. I stopped seeing everyone. My work for the agency came to a stop." She paused, frightened, for a Tokay gecko had suddenly broken out into its mating call from the roof of the bungalow. "It's all right, it's just a lizard; it won't hurt." "Then I began to work for the agency again. But this time I passed on the messages to the Knifers as well. I started telling them about potential targets, about the biggest collaborators, about the worst of the lot... And the agency found out." "The Knifers would never have tried to kill you, then." "No. It was the agency, imitating the Knifers." "O Maryam, why didn't you tell me all this before? We could have worked it all out together!" "No, Zafar, there are some things you have to work out alone. But now we are together." We put our arms around each other. Then we fell into a deep, long sleep, lulled by the whizzing fan beating down its breeze.

I woke to the scent and rhythm of rain. The bedroom was dark. How long had we slept? The taste of fear had worn off, and hunger remained. While Maryam was still asleep, I warmed up some beef curry and rice in the microwave oven. Then we swooped hungrily. The power failed. We sought some coolth in the netted verandah. It had stopped raining, and in the evening, between the teak trees, we could see the stars. Crickets chirped and frogs croaked. There were no other sounds. "I am wondering about our next move, Maryam," I said. We sat beside each other in plastic chairs. A nightjar called. The air smelled fresh after the rain, and the leaves murmured. The taste of fear had given way to the taste of curry. But we could see nothing around us, only the stars through a chink. She snuggled close to me, in her shirt. "I'm not thinking at all, Zafar. I'm safe here with you." I smiled in the darkness. If only it were so simple. How long would it be before the agency knew where we were? After all, the entire state was at their disposal. "Look!" I said involuntarily. "What?" She raised her head from my shoulder. A solitary blinking appeared above the horizon in the east. It was too slow to be a plane, which would also have had several lights. "It's a satellite," I observed. "Do you think it can see us?" "Not in this power failure," she giggled, and we both laughed. The satellite went out of view between the leaves, and in its stead rose, in a few minutes, a red apparition. "Antares!" I breathed. "What?" "The opposite of Ares, the god of war," I explained. "How I love that name! An-ta-res!" The opposite of war, the affirmation of peace, how I love Antares! "Can we ever have peace, Zafar?" In the dark, I could sense her looking up at me. My breast heaved. I dared not reply, for fear of breaking down. "Can we ever be husband and wife and mother and father?" I swallowed. "Why not?" I asked without conviction. Then her mobile rang. She spoke a few words, and turned to me. "It's them, the mujahideen. They wish to speak to you." "Yes?" I spoke into the phone. "I see... Yes... I understand... Yes, I'll see you there." "What did they want?" I hung up. "They want me to meet them tomorrow at Labanga in Dhaka." Then the power came on, and she had tears. I never thought I would never see her again.

Labanga was a kebab restaurant on Mirpur Road on the first floor overlooking the drag. I walked past the glowing embers, emanating heat and the odour of burnt meat, past the counter, and up the steel stairs. I sat in the corner table next to the door, overlooking the street, and ordered four plates of kebab and nan as instructed. The room was air-conditioned, and outside, in the sunny heat, the traffic jammed on Mirpur Road. I waited. Finally they arrived. They wore pyjamas and punjabis, and turbans and beards. There were three of them, and they drew the chairs around me. "Zafar sahib," began the eldest of them. "Salaam walaikum." They salaamed me each in turn and I salammed them. There was a noisy family, with husband and wife and two children, in the other corner. Two men ate silently at the next table. The men and I began to eat without speech. "Zafar Sahib," resumed the eldest. "The less you know about us the better," I nodded. "Zafar sahib," spoke the eldest through his graying beard and moustache. His eyes were gentle. "You have written in our favour despite your unbelief." "I am an agnostic," I said, swallowing the kebab, "and this is my civilisation." "We know your views. Please tell us where Maryam Apa is, and we'll take her to safety." "You mean, outside the country." "Probably. But I cannot say for her sake." "I'll never see her again?" "No." "Why?" "Look across the street." I looked through the tinted window, and the tangle of wires. A man in black pants and white shirt paraded the other side of the pavement. "You have been followed," he said, calmly ingesting kebab and nan. "The moment you entered Dhaka, you were followed." "So what do we do now?" I asked. "He'll be taken care of." And he was. A stream of men and women flowed past the figure, but one stopped to ask for a cigarette flame; after which, the figure sprawled on the sidewalk, clutching a knife-blade in his belly. "Let us leave." I paid the bill, and hurriedly left with the three men.

Since then, every year, I have been to the cottage in Khagrachari, and have watched Antares rise.

[ukdamo]

Mavromati to Bassae to Mount Taygetos

My holiday journal from 2007 (originally posted to MySpace on June 11th, 2007)

May 11th, 2007: Mavromati – Bassae - Mt. Taygetos

When you drive, you see a lot of the back of your hands. I can see how swollen the sprained right thumb is. I can see neither the two tendons that run to it, not the one for my forefinger – it's all a taut, shapeless bulge.

As I drove I became aware of an ache in my upper back; below, but close to, my left shoulder blade. I decide I'll have to have a look when I get to my next stop and have access to a mirror.

I awoke early – 7 am or so. Sleep had been a bit fitful – turning over is no longer spontaneous but, instead, calls for a lot of preparatory shuffling and weight shifting, using bits of my anatomy that aren't scuffed or sprained or tender.

I read in bed until 8am or so, then got up and went to the shop to buy some yoghurt and juice for breakfast: I will eat the banana with the yoghurt and save the apple for lunch. (It is a big apple). Once I'd done my ablutions and a bit of first aid, I went to settle up and go to the museum and site.

The museum did not exist six years ago – but is small, elegant and well labelled. I was most impressed. It is clear from this, and the continuing work at the site, that funds are available and Messini is being developed for visitors. I am ambivalent about that – it is clearly much more accessible to visitors, of whom there will be more, and the buildings and artefacts themselves will be conserved and restored to a limited extent. What is lost is the sense of discovery and freedom that was so evident when I was last here with Jason. I had a nude picture taken on the archon's seat in the stadium – no chance of that now! 

The site is well conserved, and work continues to uncover more. There were lots of groundskeepers and builders and the like, and an exuberant group of teenagers from Kalamata Grammar School, who were keen to say hello, discover where I was from and practice their English and be in photos.

Wild flowers abounded as usual and there were lizards who were less fleet of foot than their colleagues in Delphi – or was it the early hour? Doubtful – it was well in the 30s C by 10am.

There were startlingly fierce wasps of alarming size – red with two yellow bands to warn. The usual blue bees drifted clumsily about and lots of butterflies – mauves, blues, reds, whites and yellows dancing past.

I looked at Arsinoe's fountain (mum to Asklepios, who sanctuary was the focal point of worship in Messini). It is fed from the Klepsydra spring, which runs yet in the modern village and from which you can fill your water bottles. The water then courses through the ancient city, visible here and there, before making a cooling appearance in the gymnasium complex. The city centre is a planned build, as indeed is the whole city.

For centuries the Messenians were Spartan helots (slaves), brutally subjugated. They rose in revolt but were crushed. With the decline in Spartan power after the Peloponnesian War (they beat the Athenians after a 40 year slog but exhausted themselves in the process), the Thebans under Epaminondas (3rd C BCE) stepped into the breach – defeating the Spartans at Leuctra and ensuring the newly liberated Messenians would maintain their independence in a purpose built, democratically planned, fortress city. The walls at Messini are 9km in circuit and lots of sections still stand proud. The most impressive sections are at the Lakonian Gate, which you still drive through to reach Mavromati.

Around the agora, the Temple of Asklepios, the Sanctuary of Artemis, the council chamber and agora are compact and delightful in design and execution. Little gems.

The city itself is built on gently sloping ground: as it falls away, a gymnasium complex and stadium carry the eye into the valley stretched out below: vineyards, olive groves – as there have always been. The stadium is much restored – the seating is cleared, levelled and sections beyond the retaining wall, landscaped.

The Heroon, inaccessible 6 years ago, is pristine and impressive, as it was intended to be. A real statement of local power and political supremacy by the prominent local family who had supplied Rome with a Consul in the 2nd C

The section of wall and the tower nearby have great resonance for me. If I call the tower the BJ tower you will grasp why. Had I two reliable thumbs, I might have climbed up again and seen what the view was like 6 years on. The memory of that afternoon caused a stir in the loins. Interesting. Not that the Jason is an unlikely object of sexual desire – he was then, and is still (I am sure) a definite hottie. At least, so I found him. But the most profound connection was not sexual and the fracture caused by the manner of the break up was so traumatic that I doubted my capacity to manage it. It has taken years for me to begin to get a grip on that relationship and make some (fragmentary) sense of it. What surprised me was not the sexual passion that stirred but that, given the gall and wormwood associated with J, that the fire was not immediately extinguished.

Scampering about, I took a few photographs and then set off on the long mountain drive to Bassae, and the Temple of Epicurean Apollo there. Designed by Ictinus (Parthenon fame), it is presently undergoing long term conservation work and is protected by a big tent. I am not sure what I will see – there was little 6 years ago, but the drive is superb.

From my digs, I had a panoramic of Mavromati... the village lay to the left, the ancient site below, among cypresses, an in the far distance - the plain leading to Kalmata. So, I swung out on the day’s drive.

There were no tunes on this drive – just birdsong, the slick of the tyres, the changing note of the engine and the dolorous tink-tonk of goats' bells. The scenery was wild and rugged – with gorse enlivening the hillsides and verges all around. The Fingers of God pointed to a blue sky. The slopes were bursting with yellow gorse as I climbed towards Bassae,

As I rounded one bend, some 10km from the temple, I heard a snatch of conversation J and I had had that summer in 2001. There are evident signs of terraces as you slow to navigate the hairpin – and we spoke of those ancient farmers and the work involved in levelling, wall-building, and conserving the e precious soil – safeguarding your olive trees in an unforgiving landscape.

There were glorious flowers at Bassae - a meadow carpet and hardy alpines clinging to crevices. And beehives. 

From the Temple it was another run to the south – on a different road this time, to take me to the busier thoroughfares that lead to Kalamata

The town will be familiar to any Greek olive enthusiasts. It was a lush drive, and it took me past Figaleia – another J stop off from the past. This time there was an old German at the spring – asking me directions to Platania.

There was no sign of the ancient and massive land crab who inhabited the old spring house, nor the little scamperers who were the up and coming residents. I gave the German – who could be me in 20 years (travelling alone, doughty, and well set up for a picnic) – some directions in my best German and set off again.

From Figaleia, a slow descent before crossing the Taygetos range. 

I want to take the road over Mt Taygetos – the great chain that separates Messenia from Lacedaemon (ancient Sparta). I intend to stop in a guest house at the top of the Langhada Pass  – and have an easy run into Sparta tomorrow. The drive was another stunner. It is easy to see why ancient Sparta was never fortified – unlike most Greek cities. The mountains, and the Spartan army - was defence enough.

I approached Mt Taygetos from the west and then climbed the ridge - on a spectacular road, arriving at the guest house – a little like an Alpine chalet, really, at a little after 6pm. So I can have a leisurely evening. A brew, a quiet read for a while, then a shower and first aid session. I checked my back – the source of the pain is evident – three serried red weals that relate to vertebrae that were skittered on as I made that clumsy forward roll. Both they, the knee, and the arm are beginning to show big, nasty looking bruises, as well as the black-scabbed craters that mark skin loss. The right hand's wounds look clean but the skin loss is so great they will be days acquiring a protective scab. More dressings for now…

[ NOTE: I had fallen whilst racing in the stadium at Delphi the day before - against non-one - just running full pelt for the finish line. I fell on a patch of uneven ground - a depression meant I was thrown off-balance and my trailing foot could not catch up: I nose dived into the gravel and earth at 20+ mph. To save my face I extended my right hand and then rolled onto my left shoulder. This was the cause of the injuries. I learned subsequently that I’d broken two bones in my right hand as I used it to protect my face].

OK. Enough of the health update: time for ouzo, a photo edit, then off to find some food. It's just turned 8.30pm here.

Today was brought to you by the colours yellow,

more yellow

and Cypress green,

and by the fragrances of gorse,

thyme

and oregano.

Well, now, high up in the pass, it's all pine resin!

Ciao for now,

d  xx

PS – back from eating.

Staying at the top of the mountain, I had to drive 12km down it to find a place to eat – a recommended taverna in Tripi. It was very busy – with people arriving until well after 11pm – I left at 11.30pm. The customers ranged from little kids to grandparents – often in family groups – with the kids circulating and burrowing out anything that interested them. Me, of course – alone, with a book and his food. It was a good spot – food was as good as suggested and the atmosphere warm and friendly. The two waiters were identical twins – mid 20s at a guess, and absolutely indistinguishable. Much more so than the 'identical' twins in our family – who already look very different as teenagers. The owner of the taverna took a great delight in me and my limited but brave Greek. When it was time to pay, he would not let me include the coffee I had taken to conclude the meal – and insisted on giving me a dessert, to boot, before I left. But this I find with the Greeks, as a people: they consistently welcome and celebrate visitors – when they make a demonstrable effort to pay a modicum of respect the country they visit by learning at least something of the language.

The drive backup the mountain hairpins was a 20 minute thrill. Once home, I went out on to the balcony to look at the night sky. It presented a panoramic view of unearthly beauty. Diamonds on black velvet. 

I had not seen such a sky since I was last on Rum, one of the islands off the west of Scotland. The reason was the same: no light pollution.

We have raised a generation of children who never see the night sky, still less are entranced by its constellations and the myths they speak of. There are some 6000 stars in the night sky – few of us town and city dwellers ever see more than a few hundred.

And so to bed – midnight…

The link takes you to some of the photos from that illustrate the blog:   https://www.flickr.com/gp/damiavos/wy7eSH

[bigyack-com]

Fire Blight Spreads Northward, Threatening Apple Orchards

GENEVA, N.Y. — Across the country, hundreds of kinds of apples were meticulously developed by orchardists over the last couple of centuries and then, as farms and groves were abandoned and commercial production greatly narrowed the number of varieties for sale, many were forgotten.Some of this horticultural biodiversity, though, has been nurtured by dedicated growers who want to preserve the forgotten flavors and other traits of apples from the past. For example, some of the best apples ever developed for baking pies are no longer grown commercially, experts say, but are still thriving in heirloom orchards.“They are a piece of our history as a variety and part of our cultural identity,” said Mark Richardson, director of horticulture at the Tower Hill Botanic Garden in Boylston, Mass. “But also some of these varieties may be important for breeding the next generation. They are an insurance policy against a catastrophe.”A burgeoning threat is coming for apples, though, both of the historical varieties and the popular ones grown in the orchards today. A disease called fire blight, easily managed for a long time in apple and pear orchards, is becoming more virulent as the climate changes and as growers alter the way the trees are configured to produce higher yields. Some researchers say newer varieties may be more vulnerable, too. It is another example of threats to the nation’s fruit crops, as citrus greening has hammered Florida’s orange groves and a fungus called Tropical Race 4 has devastated the world’s banana plantations.“Commercial apples are getting hit fairly hard by fire blight,” said Kerik D. Cox, a plant pathologist who has studied the disease for a decade at Cornell College of Agriculture and Life Sciences here. “And the intensity of it appears to be new.”As they walk down a row of small and thin apple trees, with large dark red apples hanging on them like Christmas bulbs, Dr. Cox and a graduate student, Anna Wallis, point out a shriveled, dark brown branch on one of them.The blight — caused by the bacterium erwinia amylovora — is native to the United States and predates the introduction of apple trees to North America. Apple and pear growers have long managed the disease, by trimming dead branches and in recent decades, spraying antibiotics like Streptomycin. But the blight is becoming resistant to the antibiotics, some say, and has become more aggressive, wiping out hundreds or even thousands of trees in some places.The blight is spreading to places where it had not been seen before, into New York’s Champlain Valley and parts of Maine for example.Tower Hill Botanic Garden was forced in November to raze its orchard of 238 heirloom trees — two each of 119 antique varieties. The orchard is dedicated to apples developed in this country, Europe and elsewhere long ago.One of the varieties, the Roxbury Russet, dates back to the mid-17th century, and is believed to be the oldest apple variety cultivated in the United States.In an effort to keep the ancient lineage of the orchard from disappearing, the scionwood — cuttings from recent aboveground growth — was grafted onto new blight-resistant root stock. The new tree grafts will grow for a year at an orchard in Maine, and then will be returned for planting in 2021.Orchards like the one at Tower Hill — there are fewer than a dozen in the country, experts say — have been likened to the Svarlbard Global Seed Vault, a concrete facility storing nearly one million seed species on the side of a mountain on a Norwegian island.The genetics of these trees may exist nowhere else and could someday be used to create new commercial varieties because of their flavor or resistance to disease and pests. Keeping the actual trees alive by growing successive generations through cloning and grafting is the only way to assure their lineage. That is because a seed from a particular tree may not contain all of the traits of the variety because one of the parents is unknown.Tower Hill had never seen fire blight during the bloom season, which provides a potent pathway for infection, until 2011. “We get a combination of weird and tragic weather, these days, variable and unpredictable,” Dr. Cox said.Unusual spikes in temperature and more wet weather form ideal conditions for the bacterium. While May temperatures in this part of the Northeast used to rise more gradually and more uniformly, that dynamic started changing about 20 years ago and now some days in that month can spike into the 70s, Dr. Cox said. In May 2010, temperatures soared into the 80s.“Fire blight enters the tree through the flower and if it lands on a flower in bloom with temps in the 60s, it can’t enter,” Mr. Richardson of Tower Hill said. “But if it’s over 75, the conditions are right for the spore to enter the flower and get into the vascular system and it moves through the orchard faster.”Honeybees and other insects then spread the disease as they pollinate apple blossoms. At warmer temperatures, fire blight is much more virulent. “It has the ability to kill a tree in a single season,” Mr. Richardson said.“We have a lot of trees that have been mutilated,” he added. “And they are succumbing to old age because of the presence of fire blight, which weakens them.” At optimum temperatures, the bacteria double in volume every 20 minutes, Dr. Cox said.“I never thought about fire blight, it was an issue for the South,” said John P. Bunker, a long time apple grower farther north in Palermo, Maine, who identifies and preserves forgotten heirloom varieties across the country. “But 10 years ago, there was a big fire blight outbreak and suddenly it was here. I have preservation orchards all over my property, hundreds of trees and I had never, ever seen it and all of a sudden I was seeing it.”What makes the ecology of the disease even more challenging to solve and address is that while a warmer world is a big part of the emerging problem, there are other factors that may be contributing to ideal conditions for an outbreak.Apple orchards these days are a very different creature than they used to be. “People climbing apple trees and harvesting fruit with ladders, that’s gone,” Dr. Cox said. “It’s now about making an apple like a grape, where you can walk by and pick the fruit right off the tree.”Many modern commercial apple trees are planted in what’s called a high density trellis system. They top out at about six to eight feet and are narrow, like a sapling. Yet, fertilizers can push this waifish modern tree to grow about 50 full-size apples, compared to as many as 300 or so on the old-style trees. But instead of some 300 trees to an acre spaced about 10 feet apart, trees are planted 18 to 24 inches apart and there are 1,500 or so trees to an acre.The trellis-style orchard increases product and profit. A few decades ago, apple growers harvested 200 to 300 bushels of apples to the acre. The goal now is 2,000 bushels an acre, Dr. Cox said.The trellis configuration makes it difficult to manage fire blight. “The old-style trees that we used to grow were big and had tons of branches and the bacteria couldn’t move through the tree very well,” said George Sundin, a plant pathologist at Michigan State University, where fire blight is also a growing problem. In these new trees, “the branches are smaller and it’s a short distance from the branch to the tree and down to the roots.”Managed by cutting out infection, fire blight rarely killed trees in the old days, but now can wipe out hundreds or thousands in a month or two. It can spread from orchard to orchard through the wind or by insects carrying the disease.Another contributing factor may be that the new apple trees are not as resistant to disease. “They are the equivalent of a caged chicken, planting them in crowded conditions and pushing them with nutrients to grow 50 or more apples to a tree,” Dr. Cox said.And because many more trees are being planted, tree growers are rushing to fill orders. “Nurseries can’t grow trees fast enough and quality is compromised,” Dr. Cox said.Moreover, modern varieties may also play a role. “So is it primarily climate change, or is it that they are packed together?” Dr. Cox asked. “Or is it the new varieties — such as Evercrisp and Gala — which may be more susceptible? That’s what we are trying to find out.”One answer may be growing in the National Apple Collection, not far from Dr. Cox’s research grove. Managed by the Department of Agriculture, it is the largest collection of apple genetics on the planet. There are some 6,000 trees, wild and domestic, with 55 species and hybrids from around the world, including Central Asia where the apple originated.These genes are so critical to the future of apples that cuttings from the trees are shipped to the National Laboratory for Genetic Resources Preservation in Fort Collins, Colo., where they are preserved in liquid nitrogen and stored in a vault.One of the ways these trees may earn their keep is by helping out in the battle against fire blight.“We are looking at genes from wild species for fire blight resistance,” said Awais Khan, a plant pathologist at Cornell who is doing this work. It might take 25 years of breeding to create fire blight resistant apple trees, he said, “but there are ways we can speed up the process, so maybe 10 or 15 years.” Source link Read the full article

[biofunmy]

Fire Blight Spreads Northward, Threatening Apple Orchards

GENEVA, N.Y. — Across the country, hundreds of kinds of apples were meticulously developed by orchardists over the last couple of centuries and then, as farms and groves were abandoned and commercial production greatly narrowed the number of varieties for sale, many were forgotten.

Some of this horticultural biodiversity, though, has been nurtured by dedicated growers who want to preserve the forgotten flavors and other traits of apples from the past. For example, some of the best apples ever developed for baking pies are no longer grown commercially, experts say, but are still thriving in heirloom orchards.

“They are a piece of our history as a variety and part of our cultural identity,” said Mark Richardson, director of horticulture at the Tower Hill Botanic Garden in Boylston, Mass. “But also some of these varieties may be important for breeding the next generation. They are an insurance policy against a catastrophe.”

A burgeoning threat is coming for apples, though, both of the historical varieties and the popular ones grown in the orchards today. A disease called fire blight, easily managed for a long time in apple and pear orchards, is becoming more virulent as the climate changes and as growers alter the way the trees are configured to produce higher yields. Some researchers say newer varieties may be more vulnerable, too.

It is another example of threats to the nation’s fruit crops, as citrus greening has hammered Florida’s orange groves and a fungus called Tropical Race 4 has devastated the world’s banana plantations.

“Commercial apples are getting hit fairly hard by fire blight,” said Kerik D. Cox, a plant pathologist who has studied the disease for a decade at Cornell College of Agriculture and Life Sciences here. “And the intensity of it appears to be new.”

As they walk down a row of small and thin apple trees, with large dark red apples hanging on them like Christmas bulbs, Dr. Cox and a graduate student, Anna Wallis, point out a shriveled, dark brown branch on one of them.

The blight — caused by the bacterium Erwinia amylovora — is native to the United States and predates the introduction of apple trees to North America. Apple and pear growers have long managed the disease, by trimming dead branches and in recent decades, spraying antibiotics like Streptomycin. But the blight is becoming resistant to the antibiotics, some say, and has become more aggressive, wiping out hundreds or even thousands of trees in some places.

The blight is spreading to places where it had not been seen before, into New York’s Champlain Valley and parts of Maine for example.

Tower Hill Botanic Garden was forced in November to raze its orchard of 238 heirloom trees — two each of 119 antique varieties. The orchard is dedicated to apples developed in this country, Europe and elsewhere long ago.

One of the varieties, the Roxbury Russet, dates back to the mid-17th century, and is believed to be the oldest apple variety cultivated in the United States.

In an effort to keep the ancient lineage of the orchard from disappearing, the scionwood — cuttings from recent aboveground growth — was grafted onto new blight-resistant root stock. The new tree grafts will grow for a year at an orchard in Maine, and then will be returned for planting in 2021.

Orchards like the one at Tower Hill — there are fewer than a dozen in the country, experts say — have been likened to the Svarlbard Global Seed Vault, a concrete facility storing nearly one million seed species on the side of a mountain on a Norwegian island.

The genetics of these trees may exist nowhere else and could someday be used to create new commercial varieties because of their flavor or resistance to disease and pests. Keeping the actual trees alive by growing successive generations through cloning and grafting is the only way to assure their lineage. That is because a seed from a particular tree may not contain all of the traits of the variety because one of the parents is unknown.

Tower Hill had never seen fire blight during the bloom season, which provides a potent pathway for infection, until 2011. “We get a combination of weird and tragic weather, these days, variable and unpredictable,” Dr. Cox said.

Unusual spikes in temperature and more wet weather form ideal conditions for the bacterium. While May temperatures in this part of the Northeast used to rise more gradually and more uniformly, that dynamic started changing about 20 years ago and now some days in that month can spike into the 70s, Dr. Cox said. In May 2010, temperatures soared into the 80s.

“Fire blight enters the tree through the flower and if it lands on a flower in bloom with temps in the 60s, it can’t enter,” Mr. Richardson of Tower Hill said. “But if it’s over 75, the conditions are right for the spore to enter the flower and get into the vascular system and it moves through the orchard faster.”

Honey bees and other insects then spread the disease as they pollinate apple blossoms. At warmer temperatures, fire blight is much more virulent. “It has the ability to kill a tree in a single season,” Mr. Richardson said.

“We have a lot of trees that have been mutilated,” he added. “And they are succumbing to old age because of the presence of fire blight, which weakens them.” At optimum temperatures, the bacteria double in volume every 20 minutes, Dr. Cox said.

“I never thought about fire blight, it was an issue for the South,” said John P. Bunker, a long time apple grower farther north in Palermo, Maine, who identifies and preserves forgotten heirloom varieties across the country. “But 10 years ago, there was a big fire blight outbreak and suddenly it was here. I have preservation orchards all over my property, hundreds of trees and I had never, ever seen it and all of a sudden I was seeing it.”

What makes the ecology of the disease even more challenging to solve and address is that while a warmer world is a big part of the emerging problem, there are other factors that may be contributing to ideal conditions for an outbreak.

Apple orchards these days are a very different creature than they used to be. “People climbing apple trees and harvesting fruit with ladders, that’s gone,” Dr. Cox said. “It’s now about making an apple like a grape, where you can walk by and pick the fruit right off the tree.”

Many modern commercial apple trees are planted in what’s called a high density trellis system. They top out at about six to eight feet and are narrow, like a sapling. Yet, fertilizers can push this waifish modern tree to grow about 50 full-size apples, compared to as many as 300 or so on the old-style trees. But instead of some 300 trees to an acre spaced about 10 feet apart, trees are planted 18 to 24 inches apart and there are 1,500 or so trees to an acre.

The trellis-style orchard increases product and profit. Many more premium apples are produced in the new-style orchard, some experts say. A few decades ago, apple growers harvested 200 to 300 bushels of apples to the acre and about 25 bushels were the highest grade. The goal now is 2,000 bushels an acre of premium apples, Dr. Cox said.

The trellis configuration makes it difficult to manage fire blight. “The old-style trees that we used to grow were big and had tons of branches and the bacteria couldn’t move through the tree very well,” said George Sundin, a plant pathologist at Michigan State University, where fire blight is also a growing problem. In these new trees, “the branches are smaller and it’s a short distance from the branch to the tree and down to the roots.”

Managed by cutting out infection, fire blight rarely killed trees in the old days, but now can wipe out hundreds or thousands in a month or two. It can spread from orchard to orchard through the wind or by insects carrying the disease.

Another contributing factor may be that the new apple trees are not as resistant to disease. “They are the equivalent of a caged chicken, planting them in crowded conditions and pushing them with nutrients to grow 50 or more apples to a tree,” Dr. Cox said.

And because many more trees are being planted, tree growers are rushing to fill orders. “Nurseries can’t grow trees fast enough and quality is compromised,” Dr. Cox said.

Moreover, modern varieties may also play a role. “So is it primarily climate change, or is it that they are packed together?” Dr. Cox asked. “Or is it the new varieties — such as Evercrisp and Gala — which may be more susceptible? That’s what we are trying to find out.”

One answer may be growing in the National Apple Collection, not far from Dr. Cox’s research grove. Managed by the Department of Agriculture, it is the largest collection of apple genetics on the planet. There are some 6,000 trees, wild and domestic, with 55 species and hybrids from around the world, including Central Asia where the apple originated.

These genes are so critical to the future of apples that cuttings from the trees are shipped to the National Laboratory for Genetic Resources Preservation in Fort Collins, Colo., where they are preserved in liquid nitrogen and stored in a vault.

One of the ways these trees may earn their keep is by helping out in the battle against fire blight.

“We are looking at genes from wild species for fire blight resistance,” said Awais Khan, a plant pathologist at Cornell who is doing this work. It might take 25 years of breeding to create fire blight resistant apple trees, he said, “but there are ways we can speed up the process, so maybe 10 or 15 years.”

Sahred From Source link Science

from WordPress http://bit.ly/2YhaNtm via IFTTT

[deladane]

Thursday, September 7, 2017 ~ Huahine

Huahine (WHO-ah-HEE-nay) is located 175km North-West of Tahiti, and is part of the Society Islands in French Polynesia.  It has a population of about 6300 residents, and is approximately 10 miles long and 8 miles wide (at its widest part).  There are actually 2 mountain islands here, and they are connected by a small bridge. Huahine Nui is the larger of the 2 islands, and it is known for its sacred eels and many archeological sites, called Marae.  Many visitors to this island spend their time in Huahine Nui, exploring the town of Fare, seeing the famous blue-eyed eels, and learning about their deep archeological history.  We opted to take the path less traveled.  Today, we would be spending our day on Huahine Iti, the smaller and less developed of the 2 islands.  Today also marked a landmark day in my cruising life as this would be my first ever shore excursion through the cruise line!  We were signed up for the 9am excursion called Huahine Iti by 4x4.  Here is the description of the tour:

The island equivalent to the Garden of Eden, Huahine Iti is an immense tropical jungle thriving with coconut plantations, vanilla orchids, banana groves, breadfruit trees and watermelon fields. Beyond its lush landscapes and bright blooms, Huahine is also a culturally preserved sanctuary with sacred temples hidden throughout dense vegetation. This tranquil paradise will seduce you with her white sand beaches of Avea Bay, coral islets dotting an azure blue lagoon and luxurious mountains covered with magnificent foliage making her an idyllic garden paradise. It is covered with plantations and a wealth of beautiful plants, fruits and flowers and is also home to one of the most amazing white sand beaches in French Polynesia.

During this 4x4 tour you will be introduced to Huahine Iti, the more sensual and smaller of Huahine's two islands. There will be numerous stops along the way for panoramic views across the island, the bays and the surrounding lagoon and motus of Topati's and Murimahora. Visits to a vanilla and tropical fruit plantation and to the Marae Anini are included. A brief stop at a beach in Avea Bay is included for a dip in the lagoon and for refreshments (choice of soda, fruit juice or beer). Continue the tour 'off-road' into the Parea Valley for a drive over bumpy road through lush jungle before returning to the pier in Maroe.

Please note: Although the off-road vehicle will remain on the main road for most of the drive, this tour also involves travel over rough non-paved roads. This tour is not recommended for guests with back and/or neck problems or guests with limited mobility. Order of visits may be reversed and itinerary amended depending on weather conditions. Please bring cash as there will be an opportunity to buy vanilla and additional refreshments on the beach. Please wear/bring your swimwear and beach towel should you wish to have a swim at the beach.

Here is the daily schedule for today:

I woke up before my alarm went off at 6:15am.  I guess my habit from Moorea had followed me onto the cruise ship, and despite sleeping soundly all night, I was awake at dawn yet again.  DH was still asleep, so I got dressed as quietly as I could and snuck out of the cabin to explore the ship.  It was surprising to see so many people milling about this early in the morning, so maybe I wasn’t the only one having trouble adjusting to the new time zone! When I reached deck 8 and walked outside, I was greeted with views of Huahine in the distance as we approached our 8am arrival time.

I wanted to wait until DH woke up so we could eat breakfast together, but I was already a little hungry.  The main breakfast buffet does not open until 7am, but they set up a small continental breakfast in La Palette starting at 6:30am.  They have a small assortment of breads, pastries, fresh fruit, coffee, tea, and fresh fruit juice, so I helped myself to a croissant, piece of pineapple, and a glass of the best orange juice I have ever tasted, and enjoyed them outside in the crisp morning air.

The croissants on this ship were so delicious that DH and I both enjoyed them every single day of the cruise!  

When I finished eating, I had a hunch that DH was not yet awake, so I set out on a self-guided tour of the ship.  I usually like to get photos of all the public spaces without any other people in the photos, so this was actually a good time to do it since the people who were awake were mostly up on deck 8 before the other venues opened.  I will now take you on a tour, starting upstairs at the top deck on the ship and working our way down (because everyone knows it’s easier to walk down all those flights of stairs than to walk up them!)

This map is pictured at every elevator landing to help you find your way around the ship.  With only 7 decks with guest access, it wasn’t that difficult to learn your way around, but it’s always handy to have a map on those first few days when no one knows where anything is and where they are going!

Deck 9 is the sun deck and is only accessible by a staircase near the pool (see the stairs at the back of the first photo in this post!).  This deck is small, only encompassing the front third of the ship, and is very rarely used.  They have a few lounge chairs up there, and there is a bar with some stools and tables/chairs, but I never saw this bar opened over the course of our cruise.  In fact, they do not even list this as one of the bars in the hours of operation section of the daily schedule.  I think it is only used for private parties and events (like I saw the stairs roped off the night they had the past-guests reunion, and I imagine they also roped it off the night they did the honeymoon and anniversary party, but I wasn’t onboard to witness it!).

This was the bar on deck 9… closed, as usual!

Ok, that’s it for Deck 9.

I already gave you a sneak peak at deck 8, but let’s cover it a bit more thoroughly, working from forward to aft. At the very front of deck 8 is a ‘secret deck’ that most people on the ship don’t even know exists.  Yup, I’m just gonna jump right in there and tell you all the dirty secrets on the PG!  We wanted a front row seat for our approach to Rangiroa, so knowing about this secret little spot really came in handy that day.  To access the secret deck, you need to walk down the hallway of cabins at the front of deck 8.  When you get to the end, you will see the doors for cabin 801 and 802.  Between them is a door marked ‘emergency exit’ and that is the door for you!  When we arrived here, it was slightly ajar, so we did not worry about setting off any alarms or anything like that.  Had it been pulled tightly shut, I don’t think we would have proceeded.  Anyway, if you go through that door, you will then see a second door.  Go through that door too and you will find yourself outside on the secret deck!  It is basically just a balcony, located between the huge balconies for cabins 801 and 802.  There is no where to sit down, no tables, no anything besides approximately 10 feet of deck space and an unobstructed view straight ahead!  

Just to give you an idea of how big it is, I was standing back in the far left corner of the deck to take this photo:

Here is a photo of the door to cabin 801 (on the right) and the secret deck access door (on the left).

Ok, enough talk about that, I’d better move along before someone gets mad at me for spilling all the secrets of the ship!

As I mentioned, immediately aft of the secret deck is a section of cabins, so no photos here.  Then you reach the elevators.  Opposite the elevators is an interesting wall display of all the awards and accolades received by PG.  When you are waiting for an elevator to arrive, take a second to check it out (and you will likely only get a second to do it because there is rarely a wait for the elevator to arrive!)

If you exit the doors next to the elevators, that will bring you outside to the pool deck.  On the starboard side (right, when facing the front of the ship), is a small section of couches and coffee tables under the shade of an awning.  This is one of the few spots on the pool deck with some shade, so we spent a lot of time on these couches!  Notice the wood door at the back right side?  That is where the bathrooms are hiding.  On one of the first days, I asked an employee where the bathroom was and he pointed in that general direction, but I thought he meant it was inside like towards the elevators.  I walked inside, up and down the hallway for the deck 8 cabins, and all around but could not find the bathrooms.  I saw them on the ship map, but just could not figure out how to access them!  So allow me to save you a lot of effort as I direct you through this wood door to the bathrooms nearest the pool!

In the same nook but on the port side (left, when facing the front of the ship… easy trick to keep that straight: port and left both have 4 letters!) is the pool bar.  This bar is open until around 6pm every day, and is a great place to grab a frozen drink on a hot, sunny day. If you are lounging in the pool or on one of the chairs and don’t want to move, there are also waiters walking around the deck who will bring you your drink of choice.  I will warn you though, it always proved faster to just get up and get the drink yourself as opposed to ordering from the waiters and waiting for them to bring it back to you!

I already showed a photo of the pool deck area, but I think this photo shows it a little better…

I took it while we were anchored in Opunohu Bay in Moorea, while I was standing upstairs on deck 9 overlooking the pool. Behind the wall of glass is Le Grill, the casual dining restaurant on board…

I already discussed how Le Grill works at dinner time.  For breakfast and lunch, Le Grill offers the same buffet available at La Veranda on Deck 6. They both also offer the same printed menu, which does not change during the cruise so you have the same options every day.  Most of the time, we opted for the buffet and could always find something we liked.  I did order breakfast one day off the menu, and we ordered lunch two or three times off the lunch menu.  The buffet is quicker and we didn’t usually want to spend much time with our meals, but the menu food was very good when we had the patience to wait for it.

Le Grill Breakfast Menu (it’s the same in La Veranda)

(the right side was in French… don’t worry, I’m not denying you any information by cutting off that side of the menu! Unfortunately, I am going to deny you the lunch menu because I totally forgot to take a photo of it)

While there is a glass wall surrounding Le Grill on 3 sides, it is open to the outside on the aft side of the restaurant. This photo shows the last table in Le Grill and then the walkway going aft towards La Palette:

So while it is cool in the shade at Le Grill, it is not as cool as in the totally indoors dining venues (La Veranda and L’Etoile).

Moving all the way aft on Deck 8, you will find La Palette.  This area is used for lots of activities throughout the day: Les Gauguines use this space to teach Polynesian dancing, singing, and crafts;  Karaoke is hosted here;  Santa Rosa plays here at night, and it is then converted into the disco for late night dancing; I already mentioned this is where they have the early morning continental breakfasts.  It’s a large versatile space with both indoor and outdoor seating, but it is rarely crowded and I could always find a seat back here when I wanted to.

Deck 7 does not have any public spaces, only passenger cabins and the bridge (which I will show you when we get to the day I took the bridge tour), so we will now move down to Deck 6.

The forward third of deck 6 is all filled with balcony cabins until you reach the forward elevator bank.  Just aft of that is the Promenade- a long hallway lined with windows and there are comfy chairs and side tables along the starboard side. There was almost never anyone sitting in this hallway, so it’s a great place to go if you want to read a book and escape the sun.

As you move aft down the hall, the first room you come to on your right-hand side is the gym.  I was actually surprised at how big the gym was- I was expecting like 3 or 4 machines max considering how small the ship is.  They actually had a nice assortment of machines, hand weights, and even some yoga mats that you could spread out on the floor.  I should have known it when I started my tour- the one place that would be a little crowded besides La Palette at this hour was the gym! It actually took me several days of walking passed the gym before I found it empty so I could take some photos. I guess everyone on the ship felt the need to go to the gym to work off all the yummy food they were eating!

In case you have been eating a little more than you should be and you want to check your weight, they do have a scale in the gym.

Moving a little further aft, your next stop is the spa.  I am not a “spa person” so I never stepped foot inside here.  I did get a photo of the reception area though:

The next room along the Deck 6 Promenade is the Boutique.  They sell everything from magnets and little souvenirs, to pareos, to PG logo clothing, to jewelry and black pearls.  The prices all seemed pretty reasonable, so it’s worth taking a look if you want to do some shopping.

The next section of hallway features the ship library, with lots of books that you can borrow.  There is also a communal puzzle set up on a table near here, so passengers can solve a few pieces here and there.

La Veranda is located at the aft of Deck 6. This is the fine French dining restaurant on board and requires reservations in the evening.  During breakfast and lunch hours, there is open seating for their buffet or waiter service if you want to order from the menu. This photo was taken during breakfast time one morning:

The atmosphere was very different during dinner time as they close the blinds on all the windows and dim the lights to create a quiet, romantic setting.  I did not get any photos of the dinner set up aside from the food photos I took the night we ate there, but I’ll save those for later.  

Next up is Deck 5, which starts off with the Grand Salon all the way forward.  This is the main theater on the ship, and there are shows here every night.  The chairs and bench couches are comfortable, and there are lots of cocktail tables scattered throughout so you have somewhere to put down your glass during the show.

There is also a bar at the back of the room, but you won’t need to walk back here as there are always bar waiters walking around to take drink orders.

Walking aft, past the elevators, is the casino. It was a small casino, but it has a bunch of slot machines and a few tables for gambling.  

The next stop on our tour brings us to the piano bar.  We spent a lot of time here both before and after dinner, nearly every night of the cruise. We loved to get a cocktail from the bar and find a seat over near the piano to listen to Alex play his set.

This photo was taken looking forward towards the Grand Salon.  These chairs were another great spot to hide out when you just needed some quiet time away from the sun during the day.

Continuing down the hallway, you next come to the photo gallery.  They had a small shop where you can purchase cameras and accessories.  The big white doors hanging on the walls fold open and that’s where they display the prints of the photos taken by the ship photographer. The gallery is only open select hours, usually around dinner time, so check the daily schedule before showing up!

Here’s what it looks like when the photos are on display (sorry for the blurry photo!  I snapped this as we walked through one night)

Across from the photo gallery is the computer room on the ship.  I never saw anyone using these computers, and since I travel with my iPad and didn’t use the internet on board, I had no use for the computer room.

The closed doors at the end of the hallway in those 2 photos of the photo gallery is the main dining room, L’Etoile.  I actually never took a photo in here (aside from all the food photos I took every night), but the room is more than large enough for the number of guests on the ship.  We never had to wait for a table, especially if we didn’t mind sitting at a larger table shared with other guests.  If you look closely, there is a podium in front of the closed doors where they posted copies of that night’s menu earlier in the day.  

Along the length of either side of the ship on Deck 5 is a long outdoor deck.  This is where the muster stations are located as the life boats hang above here.  There was almost never everyone out on these decks so they work great if you want to walk laps up and down (although they do not connect at the front or back of the ship so you’d have to walk up and down one side of the ship or go inside and cut through the hallway to get to the other side).  If the ship was moving, these decks got very windy, which may be why they didn’t have lounge chairs down here, but I think they did have a few chairs to sit down on.

Going down one more floor to deck 4, you will mostly find the window cabins.  Just aft of the forward elevators is what I would call the lobby (since the ship really does not have a main lobby area).  In one big open space, you find the reception desk on the port side, the scuba diving desk on the starboard side, and the shore excursions desk between them on the aft wall.  There are also a few chairs to sit down on, which worked well because some of the shore excursions meet here before exiting the ship together, so there was somewhere to sit while you wait.

Reception Desk:

Travel Concierge/ Shore Excursion Desk:

Scuba Diving Desk on the right, seating area on the left (which is really in the middle of the room, just on the left of this photo):

The only other public space accessible from deck 4 is the marina.  This is technically located several decks below deck 4, but your access point to the marina is a staircase at the far aft of deck 4.  The marina is the water sports center on the ship, where you can pick up your snorkel gear as we did yesterday and where you can board the zodiac for scuba excursions.  When the weather cooperates, you can also borrow a kayak or stand up paddleboard from the marina and get right into the lagoon off the back of the ship. Unfortunately, the reality was that they almost never let us do this throughout our cruise.  Whenever we or anyone else we talked to tried to do this, we were all turned away because the water was too rough or it was too windy or some other excuse.  DH did finally get to use a SUP board on the last day of the cruise when we were in Moorea, so at least we know it is possible if the conditions are perfect! I did not get any photos of this area.

That brings us to the final deck on the ship, deck 3.  There are no public spaces down here, only 14 porthole cabins.  Here’s a photo of the hallway on deck 3:

I finished my tour of the ship back at our cabin, where I found DH had woken up and was getting ready for the day.  We went upstairs to La Veranda together to eat breakfast as the ship dropped anchor in Huahine.  We could already tell it was going to be a beautiful day!

In addition to eating a croissant every day, I also loved that they had smoked salmon available every day!  The fresh fruit juice was another highlight- I created my own combination with half orange juice and half pineapple juice… yum! The French Toast and pancakes were only okay, but not great, so I skipped them on the other mornings.

When we finished eating, we went back to the cabin to grab our bags.  As I was peaking out the porthole, I saw the tender being lowered into the water.  I guess that’s part of the fun of being on a deck this low- I actually saw the tenders out there throughout the cruise, depending on which side of the ship they were using as the exit.  

We had to meet our excursion group up in the Grand Salon at 8:45am.  Don’t forget to bring your tickets when you leave the ship for your tour because they do collect them!

When we arrived at the Grand Salon, we took a seat and waited a few minutes until they started taking roll call by cabin number to make sure everyone was there.  I felt like I was back in grade school!  Once we were all present and accounted for, we walked down the 2 flights of stairs to deck 3 so we could all board the tender together.  We noticed that they held people back who were not on a ship tour so we could all fit on the same boat together, so be aware that ship tours do get priority for the tenders.  The stairs leading down from the ship to the tender are VERY slippery so be careful!  

The tender ride to shore took about 10 minutes, and we were treated to a beautiful view of the ship on our way!

When we got off the tender, there was a tent set up with cold water, iced tea, and cold wash cloths.  This tent was set up at the tender pier at every port, and it was lovely to have a cold drink and cold wash cloth to get refreshed while waiting for the next tender. 

We continued walking until we saw a bunch of signs with the names of all of the excursions.  We found the sign for Huahine Iti by 4x4, and were told to hop onto one of the 3 jeeps.  Each one had 8 people, so there were 24 people total on our tour.  Once everyone was settled, we headed off towards our first stop.  The jeeps drove on paved roads the whole time so while it was fun to sit out back in the jeep, we may as well have been in a regular car.  I think we thought the tour would involve a bit more off-roading than it did, so this was a lot more tame than we were prepared for.  

After we crossed this bridge, we were officially in Huahine Iti (you can see the mountains of Huahine Nui on the other side of the water in this photo)

Our first stop was literally a plot of grass on the side of the road in the middle of no where.  We all got out of our jeeps and they split the 24 of us into 2 groups: the 4 French speakers went off with one guide, and the rest of us stayed together with the 2 other guides (each jeep was driven by one of the guides).  While yes, we were at a random spot on the side of the road, this particular spot had a wide variety of plants that grow in Huahine, so the guides told us about the plant life in a fun way that made it interesting.  The whole tour was very educational and we took in a lot of information (although, as I typically find with this kind of tour, I retained very little of what they told me haha)  This specific spot had about 5 different kinds of trees growing so the guide could tell us about each of them.  The spot also offered a beautiful scenic overlook over the valley and the bay.

This was our jeep.  While the 2 other jeeps on our tour had space for 8 people in the back, ours only had space for 6 people in the back so 2 people sat in the backseat inside the jeep.  We offered to switch spots with them every time we made a stop throughout the morning but they were actually happy to sit inside the air conditioning of the car and did not want to switch.  

Bananas

We stayed at that first spot for about 20 minutes, then loaded back in the jeeps to drive down to our next stop, down at the edge of the water.  While we gazed out at the bright blue sea, the guides told us about Huahine’s health care system and education system.  I found this part of the tour very interesting and I actually retained a few facts:  

-Since they are a French territory, all new laws must be approved by the French government.  They receive their funding from France so the people of FP have no interest in becoming an independent country.

-The guides explained that school is mandatory through age 16, which is considered junior high school.  There are no high schools in Huahine, so students must go to another island like Raiatea or Tahiti to attend high school when they are 16-18 years old.  

-Our guide said she paid only $350 per year for her Master’s Degree in Anthropology in Huahine!  I think I paid more than that per CREDIT for my doctorate lol  

-There are no hospitals for childbirth in Huahine, so mothers must fly to Tahiti in month 7 of their pregnancy and stay there for 2 months without their family until they have the baby.  Most women do not like the idea of being alone during the last few months of pregnancy and first few month of being a mother, so instead, they take the risk of having their baby in Huahine so they can have the support of their family.  Of course, this is a big no-no, so the women hide their pregnancy so none of the doctors know about it until after the baby is born.

Our next stop was a short drive away at a vanilla plantation.  It was extremely humid and buggy here so be sure to wear bug repellent (the only souvenirs I left with after this tour were mosquito bites all over my legs from this stop!).  The guides explained about the vanilla plant and how it is grown, and we could buy fresh vanilla beans here if we wanted to.  

This is a vanilla plant

The things that look like string beans are actually the vanilla beans

Our guide said we were very lucky to see this… it was a rare, delicate vanilla flower.

Once we were all settled back in our jeeps, we headed off to our next stop.

When we arrived at the hotel Relais Mahana, the guides told us we would stay here for 30 minutes and could enjoy the beach and swim in the bay if we wished.  The tour price includes one drink here: beer, soda, or water.  I’ll give you one guess what we picked?

They had a section of tables and chairs set up for us in the shade of the big trees.  The hotel features a truly beautiful beach, and I could barely sit still with all the photos I wanted to take!

There were a few guests at the hotel who were enjoying the water, but I didn’t see many people on our tour getting wet.  I honestly didn’t think 30 minutes was enough time to bother bringing beach towels and bathing suits on this tour, so we knew in advance that we wouldn’t go swimming today.  In the end, I think we made the right choice because enjoying the views was a better use of our time and felt more relaxing than had we rushed to go for a swim, get dried off afterwards, and still have our complimentary drink.

Standing out on the end of the pier, looking back at the restaurant and seating area where we were set up

I just loved how clear the water was in every island we visited and we could see the coral looking down from the pier without ever jumping in the water

Our 30 minutes here passed very quickly, and soon it was time to pack up and head back to the jeeps.  As you an see, the space was a little tight in the back of our jeep as it was only big enough for 3 people on either side.

You can see a small black box hanging from the roof above DH’s head… that was a speaker so our guide could talk to us while he was driving.  I think he enjoyed this time because he kind of rambled a bit, just talking about whatever seemed to come to his mind about life in Huahine.  That’s okay though… I would always prefer a guide who talks too much over a guide who does not talk at all.  If I lose interest, I can always choose to tune him out! Haha

Making our way back towards Huahine Nui, we had one last stop in Huahine Iti.  I just loved seeing hundreds of palm trees like this… what a beautiful island!

At this location, we saw one of the many ancient marae around the island.  This was an ancient temple, built of stone.  

We spent over 30 minutes here as our guide told us about the history of FP and how people came to settle here.  

I took this next photo of us leaving the marae at 12:18pm.  Our tour was due to end at 12:30pm back at the tender pier and we still had one more stop to make at a scenic overlook, so we knew we were running late.  The guides wanted to skip the overlook spot, but some people on the tour wanted to stop there, even if for just a brief second, to get some photos, so the guides said that was doable since it was on our way back anyway.

The views were so pretty out the back of the jeep as we drove along the coast to our last stop.

The overlook spot was pretty and had a good view of a spot that will eventually become a motu and then an island (where the water is aqua in the photo below), but honestly, the spot wasn’t THAT special after seeing so many beautiful places throughout the morning.  

We got back in the jeeps and raced back to the tender pier, but unfortunately we arrived 4 minutes too late to catch the 12:40pm tender and we now had to wait 25 minutes until the 1:10pm tender.  Looking back, I think we should have just skipped the overlook stop because it was quite hot standing around in the sun waiting for the tender, and we were all very hungry and wanted to get to lunch before the buffet closed at 2pm.

At least we had a great view of the ship anchored in the bay while we waited!

Here comes the tender!

This was the waiting area with the small tent for shade, 2 or 3 chairs, and some water, iced tea, and cold towels to enjoy while we waited.

We waited for a few people to get off the tender (likely the people who were taking the 1pm 4x4 tour!), and then we could board.

We got back to the ship and went directly to Le Grill so we could grab lunch before they cleared the buffet.  Each day, they had a different theme for the lunch buffet (you can find it listed on the daily schedule).  Today’s theme was French buffet, although I didn’t see anything that screamed “French food” to me.  Regardless, there were plenty of prepared options to choose from.  They also always have either a pasta bar or stir fry noodles station, depending on the theme of the day.  

I had a few pieces of salmon and the made-to-order pasta.

And of course, we ordered a few drinks from the bar waiter.  This was the first of many Blue Hawaiians that I ordered during the cruise (both because it looked fun and because it was one of the cocktails that wasn’t too strong to drink!)

Dessert buffet

The most French thing I ate today… a French macaroon!

When we finished eating, we went back to the cabin to get showered and changed because we had a busy afternoon planned for today and the first activity was scheduled for 3:30pm… the Children of Huahine show!  This show gets rave reviews here on Cruise Critic so we made sure to book our excursion for the morning so we would be back onboard in time to see it.

By the time we were done and returned back to the pool area 3:15pm, we were surprised to hear the first announcement we had heard over the loud speakers so far on the cruise (aside from the announcement to go to our muster stations yesterday).  They said, “Due to unforeseen circumstances, we are sorry to inform you that…”  My first thought was that they had to cancel the rest of our cruise!  I started to panic!  Then they continued, “…the Children of Huahine show is cancelled.”  What?!?  No further explanation was provided.  Were the kids all stuck in detention?  What on Earth could have happened that they had to cancel the whole show??  Many guests were very disappointed to hear this news as we were looking forward to the show and came back onboard early to see it.

We now had an hour to kill before our next activity of the afternoon, so we got a few drinks at the pool bar and found an empty lounger to relax for a bit.  It’s 5 o’clock somewhere, right?  I wanted to try the drink of the day, Les Gauguines, and DH ordered a Miami Vice (his favorite daytime drink on a cruise!)

A few minutes before the Moon Fish Demonstration was scheduled to start, the skies opened up and it started to rain, so they moved the demonstration inside Le Grill.  I was surprised at how pretty and brightly colored it was!

Man, that fish was HUGE!  The head chef did a demonstration of how he carves the fish and how he plans to grill it for us to eat at dinner tonight.  

This fish can feed up to 80 people, and there are 2 of them on board, bought yesterday when we were docked in Tahiti.  

I ordered the fish entrée for dinner nearly every night because it was always delicious and incredibly fresh.  Tonight would be no different, so it was fun to see the fish as a whole before it was served in a small piece on my plate tonight.

The demonstration only lasted about 15 minutes, then we continued on to our next plans.  Before the cruise, our roll call arranged an informal meet and greet for 5pm on our first full day of the cruise (today!) so we could finally put faces to the names we had been chatting with for over a year.  Yesterday was so busy with muster drill and getting unpacked and settled on the ship, so we had the meet and greet today instead.  Only about half of the roll call members joined us, but we did eventually meet everyone within a few days.  We hung out together in La Palette for about an hour, and at some point, Les Gauguines arrived to serenade us!

We noticed the rain had stopped, the clouds had cleared, and we were treated to our first beautiful sunset of the cruise.

We could see Raiatea, Taha’a, and the peak of Bora Bora in the distance!

As the sun dipped below the horizon, we realized it was after 6pm and DH was violating the dress code, so we ran back to the cabin so he could change into pants and closed toed shoes.  Jo Fe had already turned the bed down for the evening, and she left us an unwanted surprise… the disembarkation questionnaire!  It was only day 2 of a 10-day cruise… why must they give us this paper soooo early and remind us that eventually, our cruise will end and we will have to leave??

 We had 2 days to complete and return the form, so I stashed it away for now, not wanting to think about the inevitable.  We then went up to the Grand Salon for the Captain’s Reception where the Captain introduced all of the officers on board.

The reception lasted about 30 minutes and, as we expected there to be, there was a mad dash to L’Etoile at 7pm as soon as it ended.  We were among the first couples to enter the dining room and were immediately seated at a table for 8, with 2 couples from Australia and one couple from New Zealand.  It was great getting to know a new set of fellow guests, and boy did we ever have a lot of time to get to know them!  While we were the first table seated after the reception, we were nearly the last table to leave the dining room.  Service tonight was so incredibly slow that we were there for over 2.5 hours!!  About an hour and a half in, when we still had not received our entrees, our waiter came over to apologize for the service and he blamed it on the rush at 7pm.  Doesn’t the same exact thing happen on every cruise??  We knew enough to sit at the back of the theater so we would make a quick escape when the reception ended.  Obviously if they have a program that many people want to attend and they schedule that program during dinner time, then guests must wait until after that program before they can go eat, and everyone will show up at the dining room at the same time.  If the dining room cannot handle that rush then they should schedule the reception at 9pm after most people have finished dinner!  As always, the food was delicious, it just took way too long to receive it.

Tonight’s menu:

Foie Gras Terrine

Grilled Local Moon Fish

Dessert Menu:

Gauguines favorite dessert

By the time we walked out of the dining room, it was 9:38pm and the evening show had already started.  I was beyond exhausted after sitting in the dining room for so long, so we skipped the evening show and went straight to bed.