#What is the best time to visit Albania?

[lionheartlr]

Exploring the Enigmatic Albania: A Comprehensive Travel Guide

Exploring the Enigmatic Albania: A Comprehensive Travel Guide Welcome to Albania, a hidden gem nestled in the heart of the Balkans, where history, culture, and stunning landscapes converge to create an unforgettable travel experience. From ancient ruins to pristine beaches, Albania offers something for every traveler. In this comprehensive guide, we’ll delve into the rich historical background,…

[janeofcakes]

One Night in Palermo: Chapter 1

Hi, Everyone! I haven't done this in ages and I hope you'll all jump on board again for another story. It's 18 months after Sherlock jumped from Bart's and he's busily taking down Moriarty's web. He's also pining and worried for John, who thinks he's dead. Sherlock's trying to make his way to the Moran, the web's center, when another assassin comes on the scene. Find out what happens!

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One year to the day Sherlock leapt off Bart’s, his best friend watching in horror, found him creeping into a dank warehouse in the middle of Belgrade, Serbia. The dead detective had been all over the country in the last year, as well as those sharing its borders. Hungary and Romania, Bulgaria, North Macedonia, Croatia, Bosnia and Herzegovina, and Montenegro; all extensively traveled in the name of destroying Moriarty’s web of terrorists and murderers. He had just come through Kosovo from an assignment in Albania and tomorrow would take him to yet another location.

James Morairty may have died on the roof of Bart’s one year ago, but his criminal organization remained intact and Sherlock could not rest until Greg Lestrade, John Watson, and the beloved Martha Hudson were safe. Then maybe he could return to his old life of London and 221B and cases and John. Sherlock missed John most of all and had not been dead long before realizing the true extent of his feelings for his flatmate. Every moment not chasing down Moriarty’s criminals was spent wondering about John and what he was doing, or how he was doing. Worse yet, he dreamt of his flatmate as well, and they were becoming increasingly explicit in nature.

Sherlock gave a slight shake of his head to clear it. This was certainly not the time to go down that route of thinking. Mycroft’s intelligence indicated ten men in this building, making Sherlock’s full attention to the matter at hand imperative. The year’s assignments marked the longest period of time the detective had ever worked with his brother and there was at least another year to go before it would end. Remarkably, it had not been utterly intolerable as Sherlock had expected. Mycroft understood how Sherlock’s mind worked and gave him only the relevant information for each assignment. They met over virtual calls on a secured platform after each assignment was finished to discuss the next. Sherlock had needed serious medical attention on only two occasions and was immediately taken to a secret facility possessing everything required to address his injuries. The same short, blonde doctor cared for him each time, no doubt hand-selected by Mycroft to ensure Sherlock’s cooperation. The elder Holmes even made an appearance in both situations to make sure his baby brother was all right. He did not make himself tiresome either, much to Sherlock’s surprise, despite spending quite a lot of time by the detective’s side the second time around.

Sherlock had been caught during his last visit to Serbia. His captors quickly determined the usefulness of keeping him alive, but had no compunction with torturing him for the six weeks before his rescue. Mycroft even deigned to perform the extraction himself, he and his team infiltrating the base and killing every man in the bunker before carrying Sherlock out. It was at least a week before the detective could hold his eyes open for more than a few blurry moments at a time. When his senses and powers of deduction had returned, Sherlock was certain Mycroft had not left his side once. Oddly, the two brothers had grown closer as they worked together, but neither spoke of nor acknowledged it. 

Having found no one in the warehouse thus far, Sherlock proceeded down a long hallway that led to a large meeting room. Intelligence supplied by Mycroft’s spies had shown it was where the ten men spent most of their time. A door at the left side of the room opened into an office used by a man named Markovič, the indisputable leader of this terrorist cell. He had worked closely with Moriarty on more than one occasion and murdered countless people around the world.

Two other doors entered the meeting room; one that opened to a hallway of small rooms wherein the men slept and the one Sherlock was steadily approaching. The ideal situation for Sherlock was finding all ten men in the meeting room. Slightly less ideal, was Markovič in his office and the other men in the meeting room. Some of them having a kip in their individual rooms was the least ideal, but this time of night typically saw them all together planning the events of the following day. Regardless, Sherlock was prepared for any eventuality, or so he thought.

Sherlock slowed his step as he approached the room’s half-open door, rendering his footfalls completely silent. While each of the ten men was a very skilled killer, all were also dim-witted. Even Markovič, though intelligent, was no more than slightly above average. Sherlock knew his appearance would be surprising, but once the first few shots were fired, he would have to act quickly to avoid retaliation. A scant few feet from the door, Sherlock angled his body for the best view of its occupants and what he saw boggled his mind.

Eight men lay sprawled on the floor, face down on the table, or slumped back in chairs. All of them were covered with blood still oozing from pin-point bullet holes in chests, throats, or heads. None of these men had a chance to do more than consider reaching for their own weapons before they dropped. Sherlock analyzed the scene and deduced the events as they had happened while he moved through the room to Markovič’s office.

The door was also ajar. Sherlock pushed it open slowly, already knowing what he would find. Markovič was sat at his desk, leaning back unnaturally in the chair. His eyes were wide open and unseeing as they stared blankly at the ceiling. A hole was perfectly placed in his forehead, creating an isosceles triangle with his eyes. Blood stained his face where it ran down his nose and cheeks, over his throat to soak his shirt. Significant spatter and gray matter decorated the wall behind him in a sickly red glow.

Without delay, Sherlock went to the third door in the meeting room to check bedrooms for the final missing man. Finding him was not difficult. The first door in the hall was the only one open, so Sherlock let himself in cautiously. He found the man on the floor in a pool of blood, bedsheets twisted around one leg, and a pistol held loosely in one hand. He had obviously been only halfway out of bed when the door was kicked open and fired one shot quickly, the evidence of which marred the door frame next to Sherlock’s left shoulder. The intruder had not done more than twitch his head slightly to the side before expertly placing a bullet in the man’s forehead and watching him drop.

*****

Hours later, Sherlock sat at a desk in a safe house across the border in Hungary. He had changed into jeans and a plain t-shirt in dark green. His eyes were fixed on the screen of a laptop as he waited for his brother to accept the call. When the connection was made, it was Anthea’s face that appeared instead of Mycroft’s.

“Sherlock,” she greeted him. She looked tired. Perhaps the last year had weighed heavily on her shoulders as well. “He wasn’t expecting you for another hour.”

“Nor was I,” Sherlock replied dryly. “The assignment did not go as anticipated.”

“But you’re alright? It’s done?” Anthea asked with a touch of concern in her voice. The two of them had become far better acquainted over the course of Sherlock’s assignments and now had a certain rapport.

“Unconditionally,” Sherlock answered and watched as the subtle creases at the corners of her eyes smoothed away, only for them to return when he asked, “how is John?”

Anthea opened her mouth to reply, but Mycroft entered the room before she said a word. He moved to the screen swiftly and sat, studying Sherlock’s face. He was wearing his usual three-piece suit minus the jacket, and his sleeves were rolled up. A haggard expression dominated his features, but a sense of overall relief washed over them at seeing Sherlock in one piece. Mycroft let the indifference that hid whatever modicum of emotion he had slide into place and sat ramrod straight, his typical persona fully recovered.

“You were able to complete the mission,” Mycroft said with only the hint of a question in his tone.

“In a matter of speaking, yes,” Sherlock replied vaguely.

Mycroft cocked an elegant brow and leaned in.

“What do you mean?” He asked with keen interest.

“I found the bodies of all ten men upon entering the warehouse,” Sherlock said simply.

“An opposing faction?” Mycroft speculated, sounding unconvinced.

“No,” Sherlock said flatly, “it was precise and clean. None of the torture and delay seen between these enemies. A single man walked in quietly, just as I did, and murdered them all with one shot each.

“He killed all eight men as he moved through the room, three before they could rise from the table. Markovič was in his office and posed no challenge to dispatch. The last was in a bedroom.”

Mycroft had narrowed his eyes while Sherlock spoke, considering each word carefully. When the detective finished, his brother raised his gaze to regard him in silent contemplation.

“The work of an assassin where there should only be one,” Mycroft muttered.

“Indeed,” Sherlock agreed, “and it had occurred within the hour.”

Mycroft caught Sherlock’s eye and considered him carefully. 

“Sherlock,” his tone took on a condescending characteristic that always made the younger roll his eyes, “while the situation is unusual, it is not out of the realm of possibility.”

“Oh, please,” Sherlock began, but Mycroft cut him off quickly.

“You have a mission that cannot be delayed by a… mystery, no matter how intriguing,” Mycroft said snidely. “Need I remind you of its particular importance to you, brother mine?”

Sherlock closed his mouth with a snap and pressed his lips into a thin line. Closer though they may be, Sherlock hated his brother for consistently adopting this air of superiority at a perceived weakness.

“Fine,” Sherlock spat, “but you will find out who it was. If I’m known to this assassin, I want to know his every movement. I will not tolerate interference.”

“Of course, Sherlock,” Mycroft assured him smugly. “I will use every resource at my disposal.”

****

As confident as Mycroft had been, his channels found out nothing about the assassin in the coming weeks. No one was able to determine where the man came from or where he got his information. One thing became abundantly clear, however. He also seemed to be dismantling Moriarty’s criminal organization one piece at a time. 

Sherlock completed two assignments over three weeks before encountering the assassin again. The circumstances were much the same as the first time. The target called Romania home and spent most of his time terrorizing every community within a fifty mile radius. He had assisted Moriarty several times over the last decade and had often welcomed the man into his home. If James Moriarty ever had anything even vaguely approaching a friend in his adult life, it would be this man.

Sherlock watched silently from the shadows as his target entered a small room and closed the door, leaving his guard outside in the dimly lit hall. They were inside a massage parlor not far from the man’s home. He spent four nights a week in this place, making rather dubious visits to a certain masseuse. Fortunately for Sherlock, the man’s guard made similar visits to the owner of the shop. 

A quiet whistle echoed through the hall twenty minutes after Sherlock’s target entered the masseuse’s room. He watched as the guard looked right, then left, and then disappeared down the hall. Sherlock waited another five minutes to be sure the guard would not return before moving silently toward the door his target had entered. He stood next to it for a moment, his back to the wall, already knowing it was unlocked. He had spent the last seven days watching his target and tracking his movements. Sherlock knew every habit and routine in the man’s life, right down to leaving the door unlocked while he got a massage and a blow job so he could exit quickly if one of his enemies interrupted. 

All Sherlock needed to do was open the door and pull the trigger. He had become quite a good markman over the last year and his gun was equipped with a silencer. He wouldn’t miss and no one would hear a thing. The only thing that made him hesitate was the masseuse. He had not yet decided what to do about her. He could kill her along with the target to prevent anyone being alerted by her screams, which were certain to follow her lover’s untimely demise. He could find some quick way to render her unconscious while she and the target were distracted. He could simply shoot his target and run, risking a successful escape. Sherlock was likely to be tortured if caught, a situation he could not afford. He scowled, the words ‘a bit not good’ echoing through his mind. The only option was knocking out the masseuse and hoping no one noticed him before he did it.

Sherlock looked up and down the hall, just as the guard had, and then moved to face the door. He twisted the knob silently with his left hand and pushed it open. The scene before him was nothing like he expected. Instead of finding the two of them fucking on the massage table, the woman was lying on the floor, unconscious and fully clothed. The target was clearly dead on the table, a bullet hole in his temple. Spatter decorated the wall next to the table and Sherlock could hear the quiet drip of blood as it fell from the headrest to the floor. Curious, he entered the room and squatted cautiously next to the woman. He might have risked touching her to find a pulse, but could see it clearly enough on her neck. The assassin had left her alive.

Sherlock’s gaze darted around the room until it came to rest on a small window near the top of the back wall, the only outside wall in the room. It opened on a hinge, a glass pane that lifted up and it was ajar. Several telltale scuffs left by opening and closing it marred the bottom of the pane. The assassin’s entrance and exit point.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes and stood. The guard would not return for another ten minutes, but the detective could not afford to be seen by anyone. He walked swiftly out the door and closed it behind him, looking up and down the hall again. Seeing no one, but hearing faint footsteps, he crept into the shadows to wait. Sherlock heard a faraway door open and the footsteps fade away slowly. After a few minutes of silence, he left the building and made his way to the next safe house.

A few hours later and a good two hundred miles away from the massage parlor, Sherlock stood in front of a laptop set in the small bedroom of a cozy flat. He had just relayed an account of the evening’s events to his elder brother and moved on to deductions made about the assassin. Mycroft’s less-than-enthusiastic response was quickly grating on Sherlock’s nerves.

“He has a conscience,” Sherlock argued vehemently. “He could have simply killed the woman, but chose not to.”

His brother’s unimpressed face looked back at him from the laptop screen, thoroughly unconvinced. Sherlock wished, just for a moment, that they were in the same room so he could grab Mycroft’s lapels and shake him.

“Very informative, brother mine, but I fail to see how it will help to find this mysterious assassin,” Mycroft intoned dismissively, glancing at his perfectly manicured nails.

“Finding him, no, but it goes a long way in determining what kind of man he is,” Sherlock sneered. “He is not a heartless killer and that tells us quite a bit.”

“Oh, very well,” Mycroft conceded impatiently. “He may not immediately put a bullet in your head should you meet, but will introduce himself first.”

Sherlock sighed loudly and rolled his eyes.

“I will take care of him,” Mycroft continued sternly and it rankled Sherlock. The tone was the same used to scold him as a child. “You concentrate on your assignments and put an end to this dreadful business so you can return to your precious doctor.”

“How is John?” Sherlock found himself saying. It wasn’t what he meant to say, but Mycroft’s words squeezed his chest so completely that saying anything else would have stopped his heart entirely. He hadn’t even been thinking about John and was blindsided by the rush of sentiment, though he tried to keep that hidden. Mycroft, for his part, looked very disconcerted at the slip. His frustration had gotten the better of him, something that happened far more often than he would like to admit since he and Sherlock began “this dreadful business”.

“Sherlock,” he said with a long suffering sigh.

“Don’t patronize me, Mycroft,” Sherlock snapped. “Just tell me what I want to know.”

“He is…unaltered,” Mycroft replied carefully.

“Unaltered?” Sherlock repeated through clenched teeth.

“I said unwell the last time you asked,” Mycroft straightened his spine and looked down his nose at his brother. “You have not returned to Baker Street. Do you imagine he is any different?”

Sherlock glared at his brother, blood boiling, but said nothing. He didn’t trust himself to speak. He knew his brother wanted to infuriate him. It was a distraction. Mycroft did not want to answer questions about John. It was nothing unusual, but affected Sherlock differently this time. Sherlock suddenly felt exhausted and homesick. Every bit of energy left his body. He was sick for John and if his brother didn’t want to talk about John, Sherlock had no desire to pry. He was not prepared to hear that the doctor had teetered ever closer to a crumbling precipice that might give way at any time. 

“Fuck off, Mycroft,” Sherlock snarled. He shut the laptop forcefully just as his brother closed his eyes in disdain at the vulgar choice of words.

Sherlock paced furiously. He was restless and frustrated and frightened out of his mind. Dozens of storylines played out in his mind as he took each step. The most disturbing thought ended with John’s broken body on the pavement at Bart’s, the same place they had both been just over a year ago, and it made Sherlock’s heart stutter in his chest. He gasped at the pain and stumbled into the loo to be sick. He splashed water on his face once he could stand again without retching and tried to calm himself, but his chest only felt tighter. He buried his head in his hands and prayed to whatever deity would listen that John Watson be alright.

When Sherlock raised his head again, his movements were stilted and his face remote. He cleaned his teeth and changed into pajamas mechanically, getting into bed and turning out the lights. Staring into the darkness, he parted his lips and breathed slowly. If he didn’t let his thoughts out of his mind, didn’t give them life, his brain and heart would surely burst from his body.

“Wait for me, John,” he whispered into the darkness. “Please.” 

****

The next time Sherlock ran into the assassin, the circumstances were quite different. It was three assignments from the last and in Montenegro. The target had not been difficult to finish, but her brother had spotted Sherlock as he made his escape and set off after him. They ran through the compound, ducking this way and that. Every corner the detective turned should have put more distance between the two, but the man behind only grew closer. Sherlock was getting tired and he knew it. On impulse, he ducked into a stairwell and barely tripped as he flew down the steps. He quickly pushed open the heavy wooden door he found there and hurried into an open courtyard full of towering shrubs and fountains. The moon shone brightly, dazzling stars surrounding it, lighting a path of escape. Unfortunately, the man following Sherlock was too close not to make a move for him.

The man dove for the detective and caught him around the waist with his arms. They went down hard, but Sherlock rolled swiftly and struck out at his attacker. They exchanged a few blows before strong hands wrapped around the detective’s throat. Without hesitation, he slid his own arms in-between his attacker’s and wrenched them outward. The other man’s elbows bent, giving Sherlock the leverage to pull his hands away and ram their foreheads together.

At first, only the other man was dazed, so Sherlock shoved him to the side and hopped to his feet. However, the after-effects caught up with him after one or two steps. Suddenly, his head swam and his sense of balance failed completely. Tumbling to his knees, Sherlock tried desperately not to fall any further. He gasped for breath and felt incredibly hot, but resisted the urge to tear the mask from his face. He preferred assignments that did not require a mask, ones where he could maintain a safe distance from targets and their associates. On this particular occasion, his passage through the compound could find him face to face with anyone and he could not be recognized.

Sherlock took a few deep breaths until his vision began to clear. Getting to his feet, he glanced around to check that his attacker had not similarly recovered. He saw nothing as rough hands grabbed his right arm and twisted it behind his back. A cold knife blade touched his throat before he could make any move to free himself. He was trapped. His mind raced, analyzing his options and discarding them; all the while, the blade pressed into his throat, breaking the skin ever so slightly. He nearly jolted at the sound of hoarse laughter in his ear.

“You thought you would get away?” The man holding Sherlock steady chuckled loudly. He pulled the blade more tightly and the detective winced. “You killed my sister, you son of a bitch.”

A gasp filled Sherlock’s lungs, but not for fear of his life as his attacker assumed. It was what he saw in the dark window in one of the tall buildings that lined the courtyard. A sight Sherlock never would have seen, if not for a glint of metal in the moonlight. As soon as he saw that flash of light, his eyes made out the figure of a man with a gun. Standing in the tall window was the assassin, covered in black from head to toe. His face and hair were covered with the usual balaclava. Any other details were lost to the darkness of his clothes and surroundings. His gun was aimed and ready, if the location of the reflection Sherlock had seen was anything to go by.

Sherlock stood very still, not even listening to the rants and threats from the man holding a knife to his throat. One way or another, Sherlock was going to die tonight. If the idiot behind him didn’t do it soon, he would be robbed of the pleasure by the assassin, who would certainly shoot them both. Sherlock could get away from only one of them, not both. He kept his eyes on the assassin as time ticked by and wondered why he hadn’t pulled the trigger twice already. The man couldn’t be weighing his options. It was simple: Aim and fire.

Just as Sherlock thought the word “fire”, a bright flash of light appeared from the assassin’s weapon and Sherlock felt a whoosh of air on his cheek. He expected pain or instant oblivion and got neither. The air around him was suddenly quiet and his mind registered his attacker’s hands going lax. The knife tumbled to the brick floor as the man leaned heavily against the detective’s back. Going down slowly, Sherlock maneuvered the man onto his back and looked at his face. There, between his unseeing eyes, was a perfectly placed bullet hole.

Sherlock’s head shot up to the window to see the assassin, but the man was gone. The pane held nothing but darkness. Without a second thought, the detective gathered himself and stood. It wouldn’t be long before his target’s body was discovered and the compound filled with people who would be happy to kill him. He crept through the courtyard and silently made his way out, encountering no one as he went.

Hours later, ensconced in one of Mycroft’s safe houses, Sherlock booted up the waiting laptop and entered his credentials. His mind was awash with deductions and questions and theories. If nothing else, the evening confirmed the standing deduction that the assassin had a strong moral compass. Quite a bit of additional data had been revealed as well, but Sherlock had not yet sorted through it. He needed to spend some time in his mind palace, arranging the pieces.

The laptop screen caught his eye when his brother’s face came into view. Sherlock had hoped to speak with Anthea first, but had no such luck. He leaned forward and placed his hands on either side of the keyboard, a posture he often adopted when speaking to his brother.

“The assassin was there,” Sherlock stated without preamble. “I beat him to the mark, but he was there.”

“And you know this because?” Mycroft asked with an arched brow.

“I had a knife to my throat and he shot the man holding it,” Sherlock replied without hesitation.

Mycroft’s eyes widened and he leaned in closer to his own laptop.

“He saw you?” He probed with an edge to his voice.

“Not as such. I was wearing a mask. My whole head was covered,” Sherlock answered evenly. “There was nothing to give me away. I was merely a man in distress.”

He could see his brother relax a fraction and then noticed that his eyes were locked on the small bandage Sherlock had fitted to his own neck. The detective furrowed his brow and shook his head dismissively.

“It’s fine,” he told Mycroft in a dull tone. “Superficial. I’ll be able to go without the bandage in the morning.”

“Good,” Mycroft approved, looking more at ease. “That is to say, I am glad you are safe. I must admit, however, I am somewhat troubled by the assassin’s actions. Surely killing you both would have been more to his advantage.”

“Precisely,” Sherlock replied with satisfaction. “It would’ve been easier as well; hitting my attacker with pinpoint accuracy to ensure his demise before he cut my throat requires much more skill than shooting us both. It proves my point.”

“That the assassin has a conscience,” Mycroft supplied in a long-suffering tone. He sighed. “Sherlock, you are a romantic.”

“I most certainly am not!” Sherlock objected, his good mood quashed in the blink of an eye. “I have merely analyzed the data and reached the logical conclusion, as I have in countless other situations.”

He glared at his brother, who returned the look with a smug smile on his face. Sherlock didn’t feel the need to continue the conversation because his pig-headed brother would not relent. He never had before and would not start now. Growing weary of him, Sherlock rolled his eyes.

“Tell me about the next assignment,” he demanded, wanting nothing more than to move the call along so he could retreat to his mind palace.

“Yes, of course. Let’s get down to business, shall we?” Mycroft smirked and began debriefing Sherlock on the next target, The detective both listened and imagined how best to have revenge upon his return to London.

****

The following assignment was easily completed in as much as it was finished before Sherlock even arrived. Four days after Montenegro, the detective stealthily entered a caravan dealership that was closed for the day. His target and a small band of men in his employ had taken refuge there, believing no one would find them. After entering the dealership, Sherlock followed music lilting through the air until he reached an extra-long caravan, knowing what he would find before reaching it. While the music played loudly, the absence of all other noise led him to one inevitable conclusion: The assassin had been faster this time.

Five of the six men Sherlock expected lay dead in the caravan’s central room. It occupied more or less the entire vehicle, housing a kitchenette along one side, a narrow couch and table on the other. Two seats and the steering column filled the front of the room, windscreen before them. A small loo cut into the back of the room with closets opposite. In between the two was a narrow hallway that led to a bedroom. Judging by the positions of the men and the angles of the bullets that killed them, the assassin had come from the hallway. He must have climbed in a bedroom window and used the element of surprise.

Sherlock moved cautiously into the bedroom, expecting to find the body of the sixth man, but the room was empty. It was also a mess. A lengthy struggle had clearly taken place in the cramped room and Sherlock could read it all in the broken and overturned furniture. The upper hand had shifted a few times throughout the fight. A stray shot was fired once, twice, and then Sherlock’s eyes came to rest on a piece of bloody glass lying on the floor near a cabinet on the far side of the room. He went to it in three long strides. It was part of a broken mirror that had been affixed to the wall above a waist-height cabinet. One of the two men had grabbed hold of it and stabbed the other, but which was which? Sherlock’s eyes tracked their movements through drips and smears of blood. The injured man eventually broke free and tumbled out the room’s only open window. The other man must have followed because the caravan door would have been left open had he used it.

Gun still at the ready, Sherlock hurried out the door and around to the back of the caravan. He walked silently along the trail of blood and shoe prints. More and more of the sticky, red substance stained the concrete as he went. There wasn’t enough to indicate that the injured man was bleeding out, but was still a troubling amount. Sherlock quickened his pace, anxious to learn which man was injured. He found himself hoping it was not the assassin. It made little sense, but he felt some odd camaraderie with the man. They did seem to have the same goal and were inextricably linked by it.

Sherlock wove his way through the parking lot, around one caravan and another, until he turned a corner and stopped dead. Twenty feet ahead of him, next to a chain link fence, was the body of a man. He was on his back and was obviously dead. Sherlock’s throat went dry and he quickened his pace. He and the assassin had narrowly missed one another for almost three months. They didn’t know the other’s identity and hadn’t even been in the same room together, but had come to expect one another. At least, Sherlock had. He supposed the same might not be true of the assassin, but he liked to think it was, especially after Montenegro. The man had blatantly made the decision not only to save, but also spare Sherlock’s life and the resulting sentiment had softened his heart toward the man. The detective would have considered these feelings a weakness in the past. Now, he saw it in a completely different light. The assassin gave him something familiar to look for, to count on. He couldn’t have John or home, but could at least have something, though it paled in comparison. 

Sherlock was jogging by the time he reached the dead man. He couldn’t see his head properly until he stood right next to him. Once he did, Sherlock breathed a sigh of relief. The man before him was not wearing a mask of any kind, nor was there one near the body. Instead, he matched the description of one of the six men Sherlock was sent to kill. The assassin had escaped. 

Relief quickly turned to trepidation, however, as he got a better look at the dead man. He had no stab wounds on his body and looked to have been killed by blunt-force trauma. Sherlock’s eyes darted around the scene, picking out a heavy metal bar and more blood. He followed a trail of it with his eyes for a short distance. It led to, and passed through, an old opening in the chain link fence. Something had weakened the links and broken through long ago. The assassin must have used it to sneak inside or he would not have known to use it as an escape. Sherlock looked as far beyond the fence as he could see, but saw no body and no large pools of blood. It seemed the assassin had escaped, indeed. But how far had he gotten and how badly was he injured?

When he recounted the night’s events later for Mycroft, Sherlock left out the possible extent of the assassin’s injuries and hid his concern for the man. He knew precious little about the man. It made no sense for Sherlock to feel at all connected to him and yet, here he was. He couldn’t stop himself from viewing the connection as a separate but united force against what was left of Moriarty. As such, not knowing the assassin’s fate unsettled Sherlock in a way he couldn’t explain and he hoped their paths would cross again soon.

****

The next assignment was long and tedious. Sherlock spent nearly three weeks just garnering enough trust through various acts of theft and bullying as assigned by the target’s second in command to even be told the target’s location. He then spent another six days planning out how to neutralize successfully. His frustration grew day by day at having to waste an entire month on this one target, lengthening his time away from John. John, who he knew was struggling. His last few conversations with Anthea were vague at best, but informative enough to know that John’s grief had renewed. 

The knowledge slowed Sherlock’s progress with the assignment and he knew it. He couldn’t bring himself to care. He would rather know at least something about John and be distracted than know nothing at all. He dreamt of his friend every night again; comforting him and assuring John he would be home again. He awoke each morning with renewed vigor at having spent the time with John, even if only in his mind. Part of him hoped dreams did the same for John, but they more likely only discouraged him. Sherlock had the advantage of knowing they would meet again, whereas he was dead in John’s world. Sherlock tried to ignore the regret and guilt that ate at him for it.

Motivated by the desire to end his exile and return home to John, Sherlock lost his patience and brought the assignment to an abrupt end. While in the target’s bunker for a debriefing, Sherlock broke into his office and waited. Nearly two hours later, the man and his second opened the door. Sherlock greeted them politely with one bullet each and left as fast as he could. 

His work done, after the agonizingly long month, Sherlock wanted nothing more than to move on to the next assignment. He grimaced as he logged onto the secure server he and Mycroft used to communicate, knowing his brother would berate him for his slowness. Maybe Sherlock would get lucky and Anthea would debrief him. He hoped as he pushed enter and waited, then sighed when Mycroft’s smug face came into view.

“Mycroft,” Sherlock murmured in greeting, saying nothing else. Mycroft more than made up for it.

“Good evening, Sherlock. I am glad to see you have finally finished your assignment. I was beginning to think that your target had persuaded you to stay on,” Mycroft’s snide words pushed Sherlock over the edge. The last thread tethering his frustration over the assignment snapped and he nearly swept the laptop off the table.

“Fuck off, Mycroft!” Sherlock shouted. “You know this is not how I wanted it to go. Just tell me about the next assignment and go back to your cake. I wouldn’t want to keep you from your greatest pleasure.”

“Sherlock, has it really come to this?” Mycroft began with an epic eye roll.

“You started it!” Sherlock interrupted. “Just tell me what I want to know.”

“In due time, brother mine,” Mycroft dismissed Sherlock’s anger out of course, “I have come into some information about your mythical assassin.”

“Oh, yes, perfect. Just what I want to know,” Sherlock snarked back, crossing his arms. “Tell me, Mycroft, how many assignments has he completed while I’ve been stuck on just one?”

“On the contrary,” Mycroft said blandly. “It seems both of you have succeeded in doing nothing. I have no indication he has made any movements during the last forty-two days.”

It was then that Sherlock remembered the trail of blood he had followed so long ago and the strange sense of loneliness he had felt. He had mentioned neither to Mycroft after that assignment.

“He was injured,” Sherlock stated almost without thinking, “in that caravan dealership in Skopje. I followed a trail of blood. He must need time to recover.”

“You failed to mention that in the debriefing,” Mycroft answered, his tone rife with skepticism.

“It was not relevant,” Sherlock replied haughtily.

“Wasn’t it?” Mycroft speculated. “Hm. I wonder.”

“Is there a point to this, Mycroft?” Sherlock snapped, growing tired of the conversation. His brother had a certain knack for analyzing his motives at the most inconvenient times.

“Could it have been a more serious injury, brother mine?” Mycroft continued calmly, unfazed by his baby brother’s outburst. “We have no evidence of him at all in the time between today and that night. Could he have been neutralized?”

“Neutral- he’s not our enemy, Mycroft,” Sherlock countered. “He saved my life.”

“Because doing so suited his purpose,” Mycroft supplied, condescension slipping into his tone. “You are very obviously on a path similar to his own. Why would he want that assistance to end?”

Mycroft was right. It was only logical for the assassin to keep Sherlock alive so the man didn’t have to hit every target himself. The detective had allowed sentiment to color his views of the assassin and if Mycroft didn’t know before, he certainly did now. Damn him.

“No,” Sherlock gave a slight shake of his head after a moment of thought, “there wasn’t enough blood for the injury to have been life-threatening. He will appear again. Just give him time.”

Mycroft pressed his lips into a thin line and took a deep breath through his nose. He had more to say, but obviously debated on whether to do it now or save it. Sherlock knew Mycroft had chosen not to wait the moment his lips parted.

“You will have to deal with him one day,” Mycroft said carefully. “The time will come when you are no longer useful to him.”

Sherlock fought not to roll his eyes. As if he hadn’t considered that particular inevitability already.

“I will handle that when the time comes, not before,” Sherlock said flatly.

****

As if on cue, Sherlock found his next target in a private train compartment with a bullet in his head. They were on a train in Hungary. The man’s two most trusted associates were at his side, also shot dead. The assassin was back. 

The corner of Sherlock’s mouth curled as he stood in the compartment’s doorway. He gave a subtle salute to the scene, closed the door, and casually walked back to his own compartment. As he went, he was filled with a sense of satisfaction and hope. With his own efforts coupled with those of the assassin, his timetable would change for the better and he could return home to John earlier than expected. Mycroft may have been right about an eventual confrontation between Sherlock and the assassin, but until then they would each enjoy the other’s usefulness without question.

****

Another handful of assignments came and went, Sherlock and the assassin working in tandem, but never encountering one another. Shortly after leaving another scene in which the assassin beat him to the mark, Sherlock calculated their joint progress once again and found that their current rate would see him back in London a full four months early. He was delighted.

A particularly successful month for both of them resulted in another revision of the time required. They had shaved off a few more weeks, much to Sherlock’s satisfaction. That was how, at eighteen months post-Fall, Sherlock found himself in Palermo, Sicily with only two targets remaining before he could return home to London and his life.

------

I know it was a long one, but I hope you enjoyed it. Thank you so much for reading and for all your support! I've missed you all so much! Tune in next week for chapter 2 and remember, keep your stick on the ice. We're all in this together.

Love, Jane

[fleshadept]

2023 retrospective a week late

i started the year by leaving north america for the first time—to visit montenegro and albania! gorgeous places, delicious food, cool venetian architecture, and of course @charleslovemustdie who is just as delightful in person and whose family makes the BEST pomegranate juice. my layover was also in istanbul so i got to see the black sea!

in march i visited @goalofthecentury in aotearoa and we road tripped around the north island, from auckland to waihau bay to taupō then on to wellington, for about 18 hours total of driving. first time in the southern hemisphere and first time driving on the left side of the road; it was terrifying at first but aotearoa has some of the most well-maintained highways i've ever driven on. it was one of the greenest places i've ever seen, with the nicest people. what a beautiful place.

in the spring semester i took a class i've been wanting to take since before i even applied for my university: gender and sexuality in the horror film. it was everything i'd hoped it could be and more; the professor was funny and passionate and watching the movies as a class was amazing, and the readings were fascinating!!

my partner visited me in texas in may... 😳

got engaged

my partner visited again in october/november, this time for just over 3 weeks. turns out we really like living together :)

i got my first full-time job!! it made the end of the semester hell on earth and this semester will be similar but it's SO nice to be making enough money that i'm not stressed all the time. i also got the call offering me the job the week of my birthday, with my partner and my brother there :') what a nice moment.

had a surprisingly lovely christmas. very laid back and i was able to get my mom and siblings nice gifts for once <3

[mariacallous]

ELBASAN, Albania — Isaac Herzog’s visit to Albania Thursday marked the first time an Israeli leader set foot in the only European country that ended World War II with more Jews than it started with.

Albania’s role in saving Jews during the Holocaust was a key theme of the Israeli president’s brief visit, which included a ceremony at the Holocaust memorial in Tirana as well as meetings with descendants of some of the 75 Muslims, Catholics and Orthodox Christians listed by Israel’s Yad Vashem as Righteous Gentiles — those who risked their lives to save Jews from deportation to Nazi death camps following Germany’s occupation of Albania in September 1943.

“Albanians hid Jews without regard to where they came from, or whether they were rich or poor,” Petrit Zorba, head of the Albanian-Israeli Friendship Association, told the Jewish Telegraphic Agency in Elbasan, a small city about one hour’s drive south of the capital Tirana.

Zorba estimated that up to 3,000 foreign Jews found refuge in Albania during World War II. “Only 100 meters from here lived the Kurmaku family, one of the families that protected Jewish people,” he said. “These houses have lately become tourist attractions visited by Israelis and others.”

Yet youths in this once-Marxist nation of 2.6 million know nearly nothing of that unique legacy, according to Florenca Stafa, director of the Albanian and Balkan Research Center at the University of Elbasan, Albania’s largest and oldest teaching college. 

“During communism, nobody spoke about the Holocaust. The topic was never taught in school,” said Stafa, 41, whose father was jailed for two years in the late 1960s simply for complaining there was no bread to eat. “Even after the regime collapsed, in the 1990s, it was still an unknown concept. So for me, as a professor, it’s important for us to do something about this.”

To that end, Stafa helped organize a conference for 25 teachers last week in Elbasan. The five-day event was co-sponsored by the Albanian History Teachers Association and The Olga Lengyel Institute, or TOLI, a New York-based nonprofit that promotes Holocaust education throughout the United States and Europe.

Oana Nestian-Sandu , TOLI’s international program director, said Albania is the 14th country outside the U.S. to host a TOLI seminar for teachers since 2012, and the only one among the 14 where antisemitism — rampant across much of Eastern Europe — has hardly been an issue.

“Because we are educators, we have to study what’s the best way to present this immense topic to our students,” she explained. “For them, it’s something that happened almost 100 years ago. But research has shown that through diaries, students can connect, and they become not only interested in it but committed to learning more — even in their free time — and be inspired by it.”

Albana Ndoja, 47, is a longtime history teacher and vice-director of the Kolë Idromeno High School in Shködra, a predominantly Catholic city. She first heard about the Shoah during a 2016 week-long group visit to Yad Vashem that was organized by Albania’s Ministry of Culture.

“We taught about World War II and the ancient world, but never about the Holocaust,” said Ndoja, a Muslim. She noted that in her hometown, the family of Agostin and Gysepina Çiftja sheltered a Jewish family for one year, even though their house was next to a Nazi garrison.

“The bishops of Shködra gave them Catholic identities, but they never tried to convert them. After a year, they got new passports and helped them go to Macedonia. Along with my students, I’m trying to gather all the histories of families in our city who did this,” she said, adding that “if we don’t learn from the past, we cannot learn how to protect ourselves in the future.”

Klodeta Cane, an Albanian Jew and Holocaust educator, said Adolf Hitler’s autobiography, “Mein Kampf,” has enjoyed strong sales in Albania of late. When she recently discovered a copy of the notoriously antisemitic book in the car of a municipal official in Vlora and asked him about it, the official responded: “We were just curious and wanted to read it.”

Cane added that Hitler exploited Germany’s economic devastation following the First World War to scapegoat Jews. She worries that sentiment could also shift in the Balkans, where “the radicalization of Islam is growing, and organizations are paying money to buy their souls” — that is, worshippers are offered cash incentives to attend mosques.

Gadi Luzzetto-Voghuera, director of Italy’s Fondazione Centro di Documentazione Ebraica Contemporanea, agrees with that assessment—especially after Oct. 7 and the dramatic rise in anti-Zionist and pro-Hamas sentiments throughout the West, and among intellectuals. 

Some of the speakers and participants cited frequent and harsh criticism of Israel’s war in Gaza in the Albanian media.

“Antisemitism is not an important issue for Albanian society, but it is important politically for the entire world, especially in Europe,” said Luzzetto-Voghuera, a speaker at the Elbasan event. “It’s being used as a political tool, even in countries like Albania where few Jews live.”

Elda Dermyshi, 54, has been teaching high-school history in Elbasan for 32 years. She said the Holocaust has recently become “a very sensitive issue” in Albania due to the conflict in Gaza.

“Everyone on TV is talking about this war and they connect it to the Holocaust and antisemitism. Back then, it was the Jews who were persecuted. Now the Jews themselves are accused of being the persecutors,” Dermyshi said, declining to discuss her own views. “What I understand from this conference is that we must treat the Holocaust as a multidimensional issue strongly related to human rights and cultural diversity, to refuse to accept stereotypes, and to practice tolerance.”

Today, the formerly Marxist dictatorship is home to perhaps 60 Jews—nearly all of them in Tirana—though its government is quite pro-Israel. Prime Minister Edi Rama, who met with Herzog during his visit, is currently overseeing the construction of two museums honoring Jewish history and Albania’s wartime rescue of Jews: one in Tirana, and the other in Vlora.

Alket Shehaj, 39, was one of the few male attendees at the TOLI conference. A middle-school history and geography teacher from the southern town of Fier, Shehaj acknowledged the rise of violent extremism in the Balkans but said education and a stable family life can counter that.

“Albanians have shown throughout history that we are a nation which embraces values and traditions, and we’ve always sought peaceful relations with our neighbors,” Shehaj said. “We have heard about the Holocaust since we were little. This is a subject we need to study in depth.”

Each teacher attending the TOLI conference received three books: “Flower of Vlora: Growing Up Jewish in Communist Albania,” an autobiography by retired Florida dentist Anna Kohen; an Albanian translation of “The Diary of Anne Frank” and “Izraelitët në Shqipëri” (“Jews in Albania”) by Josef Jakoel. 

Felicita Jakoel is the daughter of Josef Jakoel, the patriarch of what was then a 300-member Jewish community that emigrated en masse to Israel in 1991 after the fall of communism.

“My father was worried that because we were living in a closed country, it would be forgotten that a Jewish community once thrived here. He loved history, he was an economist, and he spoke many languages, so it was his moral duty to write the history of Jews in Albania,” she said.

Jakoel, who has lived in Israel since 1991, told teachers that the Jewish presence in Albania dates back 2,000 years — as evidenced by the ruins of an ancient synagogue in Saranda, along the country’s Adriatic coast near the Greek border. Jews also flourished in Berat and Elbasan, but enjoyed their strongest presence in Vlora, where a merchant class thrived until the Italian occupation in 1939. 

Yet the Albanian people’s determination to hide Jews from the Nazis at enormous personal risk paid off. By the war’s end, the Nazis had killed only one Albanian family out of a native Jewish population of 300 and perhaps thousands of refugees from neighboring countries. In contrast, of the 2,000 or so prewar Jews who lived on the Greek island of Corfu—just off Albania’s coast—only 187 survived. The rest were all deported to Auschwitz.

‘What happened here in Albania didn’t happen in any other country in Europe,” said Jakoel, 67. “In Denmark, Danish Jews were saved. But in Albania, so were Jews who came from other countries. This is a very important topic to be integrated in schools. We should teach new generations about what we did during the Holocaust.”

TOLI’s Nestian-Sandu said she hopes to make the seminar an annual event in this country, and next year to include Albanian-speaking teachers from neighboring Kosovo as well.

“It’s not enough just to tell the story of these wonderful people who saved so many Jews,” she said. “It’s equally important to inspire students to be active citizens and help those around them.”

[missdollytheog]

Croatia was MAGICAL I cannot define in a different way. I’m not exaggerating. Dubrovnik old town was the best the sea 🌊🥹 and Zagreb too. You just have to visit Croatia definitely. We went this year so we were able to visit their football museum and they are such a big football country despite being so little and having a small population. Albania was ok I wasn’t able to see much I stayed at the hotel because I was sick so I have to see it one more time to review it better. Bosnia had the most beautiful nature and we were able to visit some mosques both in Bosnia and Serbia. We were able to cross a beautiful bridge called Mostari? I believe. I loved it there and it made me sad some stories I heard about the war💔 Serbia was also very cute it was the cheapest I drank everything 😭 novi pazar and novi sad we’re cute we visited a mosque in novi pazar. Their churches are cool. Belgrade was the liveliest city everything is very cheap and I recommend it to everyone.

Greece was one day and we were only able to eat then left I didn't participate in the tour and just ate at some nice tavernas. Greek food is to die for but I couldn't try much.

I wish I was able to see Montenegro too but it wasn't included tho. I heard it's beautiful there so I'll definitely return and this time add Montenegro, Manadonia and Turkay to the tour se mall Maybe

I heard Croatia is amazing!! Now you said it, I'm going to add on my long list to visit!! Greek food.. what to put it, I've never had it before I went to Greece and now I can't stop searching for somewhere in England I could have it.. soooooo good!!

[epostravel]

What You Need to Know Before You Go on Greece Small Group Tours

Greece, a land steeped in history, mythology, and breathtaking landscapes, has long been a favorite destination for travelers worldwide. Small group tours offer an intimate and enriching way to explore this enchanting country. Whether you’re drawn by the ancient ruins, pristine beaches, or delectable cuisine, you should know some essential things before embarking on a small group tour in Greece. This article will provide comprehensive insights to ensure your journey is enjoyable and memorable.

Location

Greece is in southeastern Europe, bordered by Albania, North Macedonia, Bulgaria, and Turkey. It has a diverse geography, including mountains, islands, and a lengthy coastline along the Aegean, Ionian, and Mediterranean Seas.

Climate

Greece enjoys a Mediterranean climate with hot, dry summers and mild, wet winters. The best times to visit are spring (April to June) and fall (September to October) when the weather is pleasant and the tourist crowds are thinner.

Best Times to Visit

For optimal weather and fewer crowds, consider visiting Greece during the shoulder seasons — late spring and early autumn. These periods offer comfortable temperatures, ideal for sightseeing and outdoor activities.

Cultural Insights

Local Customs

Greek culture is rich with traditions and customs. Respect for elders, a strong sense of community, and hospitality are central to Greek life. It’s customary to greet with a firm handshake and to say “Yassas” (hello) or “Efharisto” (thank you).

Cuisine

Greek cuisine is renowned for its use of fresh, local ingredients. Make sure to try dishes like moussaka, souvlaki, tzatziki, and baklava. For an authentic experience, enjoy meals in a tavern.

Traditions and Festivals

Greece is home to numerous festivals, often linked to religious celebrations. Easter is the most significant, with unique customs like candlelit processions and feasting. Other notable events include the Athens Epidaurus Festival and the Thessaloniki International Film Festival.

Must-Visit Attractions

Athens

The capital city, Athens, is a historical treasure trove with landmarks like the Acropolis, Parthenon, and the Ancient Agora. Visit the Acropolis Museum and the National Archaeological Museum.

Santorini

Famous for its stunning sunsets, white-washed buildings, and blue-domed churches, Santorini offers breathtaking views and romantic vibes. Visit Oia village, the volcanic beaches, and the archaeological site of Akrotiri.

Mykonos

Known for its vibrant nightlife and beautiful beaches, Mykonos is also home to charming villages and historical sites like the Delos Archaeological Site.

Crete

As the largest Greek island, Crete boasts diverse landscapes, from stunning beaches to rugged mountains. Highlights include the Palace of Knossos, the Samaria Gorge, and the charming old town of Chania.

Delphi

Once considered the center of the world in ancient Greek mythology, Delphi is a UNESCO World Heritage Site featuring the Temple of Apollo and the ancient theater with stunning views over the valley.

Meteora

Meteora’s monasteries atop towering rock formations offer a unique and mystical experience. The area is perfect for hiking and exploring these architectural marvels.

Activities and Experiences

Historical Tours

Engage in guided tours of ancient sites to gain deeper insights into Greece’s rich history. Consider visiting Olympia, the birthplace of the Olympic Games, and Epidaurus, known for its ancient theater.

Island Hopping

Experience the diversity of the Greek islands through island hopping. Each island has its own unique charm, from the cosmopolitan atmosphere of Mykonos to the tranquil beauty of Naxos.

Hiking and Nature Walks

Greece offers numerous hiking opportunities, such as the Samaria Gorge in Crete and the trails of Mount Olympus, the mythical home of the gods.

Sailing and Water Sports

The crystal-clear waters of the Aegean and Ionian Seas are perfect for sailing, snorkeling, and diving. Charter a yacht or join a sailing tour for an unforgettable maritime adventure.

Culinary Tours

Join a culinary tour to savor the flavors of Greece. Participate in cooking classes, visit local markets, and enjoy wine tastings in regions like Nemea and Santorini.

Wellness and Spa Retreats

Greece’s serene landscapes provide an ideal backdrop for wellness retreats. Indulge in spa treatments, yoga sessions, and meditation in peaceful settings like the Peloponnese and Evia.

Travel Tips

Accommodation

From luxury resorts to budget-friendly hostels, Greece offers a range of accommodation options. Consider staying in family-run guesthouses or traditional villas for an authentic experience.

Transportation

Public transportation, including buses and ferries, is reliable and well-connected. Renting a car can offer more flexibility, especially on larger islands. Always check local schedules and routes.

Packing Tips

Pack light, breathable clothing for the summer and a warm layer for cooler evenings. Comfortable walking shoes are a must for exploring ancient sites and hiking trails. Remember swimwear and sunscreen.

Safety and Health Precautions

General Safety Tips

Greece is generally safe for travelers. However, it’s wise to stay vigilant in crowded areas to avoid pickpocketing. Always follow local advice and stay informed about any travel advisories.

Health Tips

Carry essential medications and a basic first aid kit. Tap water is safe in most areas, but bottled water is recommended on some islands. Make sure your travel insurance covers health emergencies.

Conclusion

With its blend of ancient history, stunning landscapes, and vibrant culture, Greece offers an unforgettable travel experience. By preparing with these tips and insights, you’ll be well-equipped to make the most of your small group tour. Whether exploring ancient ruins, savoring local delicacies, or soaking up the sun on a beautiful beach, Greece will surely leave you with lasting memories.

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[pigeonlodgeagent]

Global Pass: how many countries can you visit?

The Interrail Global Pass lets you travel in 33 countries and gives you a practically unlimited choice of routes so you can travel however suits you best. The Interrail Global Pass gives you access to all of the participating railway networks and allows you to travel for a set amount of time, with no need to purchase tickets for each journey. This means you can take any route you want and travel as much as you like during the time period your pass is valid. Eurail/Interrail Global Pass (Travel freely through 33 countries) - Available today - Issued instantly - E-pass - Free cancellations - From $212.95 Book

Global Pass: how many countries can you visit?

Time and money can be saved by using this method. Throughout 33 European countries, you will be able to take unlimited rides on the majority of trains. Ticket purchases are not required separately for this event. Taking care of things quickly and easily. There is no need to wait for passes, they are issued instantly. To board the train, you will need to show the ticket code on your ticket. It is possible to cancel your reservation at any time. Get exclusive discounts and offers by signing up today. Whether you're looking for local transportation, attraction tickets, accommodations, or more, we have them all.

Photo by Vidar Nordli-Mathisen Travel Validity - 4 Days Within 1 Month - 5 Days Within 1 Month - Popular7 Days Within 1 Month - 10 Days Within 2 Months - 15 Days Within 2 Months - 15 Consecutive Days - 22 Consecutive Days - 1 Month - 2 Months - 3 Months During the validity period of your Eurail/Interrail Global Pass, you'll be able to take unlimited train rides on most trains in 33 European countries. Includes Austria, Belgium, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Bulgaria, Croatia, Czech Republic, Denmark, Estonia, Finland, France, Germany, Greece, Hungary, Ireland, Italy, Latvia, Lithuania, Luxembourg, North Macedonia, Montenegro, the Netherlands, Norway, Poland, Portugal, Romania, Serbia, Slovakia, Slovenia, Spain, Sweden, Switzerland, Turkey, and the United Kingdom. A wide range of exclusive benefits are available to you Attractions - A 10% discount is available on Disneyland Paris tickets - The Barcelona City Card is now available at a discount of 10% - The Sandeman's New Europe Tours are available with a 20% discount on Madrid Tours - A 20% discount is available on Paris Tours - SANDEMAN'S NEW Europe - for a limited time only - Transportation Free with the BB Intercity bus - Transportation of 50% of FRAM buses What is the best way to use it? Purchasing a pass is the best way to get started Activate your account within 11 months of the date of purchase. You can download the Rail Planner app from the App Store It is easy to plan your itinerary once you have added your pass. A limited number of seats are available for reservation Certain trains are required to have this requirement. It is better to take the train instead of the bus. Please present your e-ticket to the board when you arrive. Important Notes Eligibility Type of Pass Eligibility Interrail Pass Citizens or permanent residents of one of the following countries/regions: European Union:Austria, Belgium, Bulgaria, Croatia, Cyprus, Czech Republic, Denmark, Estonia, Finland, France, Germany, Greece, Hungary, Ireland, Italy, Latvia, Lithuania, Luxembourg, Malta, the Netherlands, Poland, Portugal, Romania, Slovakia, Slovenia, Spain, Sweden Other applicable countries/regions: Albania, Andorra, Belarus, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Faroe Islands, Gibraltar, Iceland, Kosovo, Liechtenstein, Moldova, Monaco, Montenegro, North Macedonia, Norway, Russian Federation, San Marino, Serbia, Switzerland, Turkey, Ukraine, United Kingdom, Vatican City. Eurail Pass Those who are not citizens or permanent residents of the countries/regions listed above. The following fees are included in the fee Passes for the Eurail/Interrail system Exceptions to Fees - Fees associated with seat reservations - The inclusions do not include any personal expenses or fees that are not mentioned in the inclusions - As a result of force majeure events such as delays, strikes, bad weather, breakdowns, train cancellations, schedule changes, etc., additional costs may be incurred. There are several policies that apply to tickets - 1. If you want to cancel your reservation in one of the following scenarios, you can do so for free: - As of the date of purchase, the pass has not been activated within one year from the date of purchase. - The pass has been deactivated or it has been activated, but it is before the first day of validity and the pass has been deactivated or activated. - 2. During the following situations, passes can not be refunded or canceled: - Activation of the pass has already begun and the first day of validity of the pass has already passed or may have already begun. - It is important to note that the cancellation request was submitted over 12 months after the pass had been issued. At the moment, partial cancellations cannot be made online due to technical difficulties. A cancellation request can be made by contacting Trip.com customer support if your booking includes a pass that has already been activated and there are at least 7 working days (not including the first day the pass is valid) before the start of the first day of validity of the pass.

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[floridafoundationpro]

Walton county Florida foundation repair

Walton county Florida 

Welcome to Walton County Florida! This beautiful area of Northwest Florida is a great place to call home, offering unparalleled natural beauty and a wide array of activities for visitors and locals alike. From stunning white sand beaches to lush forests and rolling hills, Walton County offers something for everyone. This blog post will provide an overview of all the wonderful attractions and activities that Walton County has to offer, from shopping and dining to outdoor recreation and cultural exploration. We will also discuss some of the best places to stay and attractions to consider when visiting Walton County. With so much to offer, visitors of all ages and interests will find plenty to do, making it a great destination for a vacation, special occasion or just a day trip. We hope you enjoy learning about all the great things that Walton County Florida has to offer!

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[parchmentedpetrichor]

➳it's good to see you again ♡ ☾

in which y/n l/n comes home from a 2 year long mission to subdue the rest of the escaped death eaters and meets her best friend, fred weasley, yet again.

fred weasley x fem!reader

word count: ±1.5k

tw: mentions of scars, nightmares, mentions of the war

drop a follow if you wanna see more of this content!!

my masterlist:D

ft. angelina and george

it's been a long day without you, my friend

and i'll tell you all about it when i see you again

it's good to see you again

y/n was sitting comfortably in the backseat of george's fancy car, earphones plugged in and listening to a song to drown out the sound of angelina and george talking about something they had seen on the news. her head was leaning against the window, her eyes drinking in the familiar view of london in nostalgia. it hurt her that she wasn't the only person who would see the beautiful city she'd known from the very beginning. and she missed it. angelina and george had picked her up from the quarantine centre after she had made a trip to albania for a couple of years with the rest of her auror unit to imprison the remaining death eaters. albania had recently acquired many cases of dragonpox, and so all the unit members had to isolate in a little hotel by the edge of italy. it had been a few weeks since the start of the quarantine and now she was zooming along a british highway, ever so keen to see her friends and family again. and fred. fred was her best friend. they had been since 5th year. perhaps she was harbouring feelings for him, perhaps she wasn't. and here she sat, curled up and watching the views, trying to decipher whether or not he'd be different. he had survived the war just barely. it would be acceptable for him to change. did he still have the millions of freckles dotted along his face? her face flushed just thinking about it. bringing her hands up to her cheeks she shook her head. chile, y/n, he probably has a girlfriend. it's been two years, and he didn't like you two years ago, he won't like you now. the thought alone made her frown. "what's got you blushing and frowning like mad?" angelina looked at her through the mirror in the front of the car. george whispered something in her ear and she giggled. "y/n, is this possibly about a certain fred weasley?" her eyes widened. "nope, not at all." "really? so you were definitely not thinking about the amount of freckles my twin has on his face? hmm?" "no! george, seriously?" she stuck my tongue out at him. "or his ginger hair?" angelina added. "no! you guys are idiots!" she folded her arms. "and she's blushing again," angelina sniggered. "stop!" "it's okay, he blushes about you way more," george laughed, eyes on the road. "stop, stop, stop!!!!!" "it is true." "no it isn't, okay? erm, i don't like him, he doesn't like me. we're best friends. you guys are gross." she resumed looking out the window, shaking her head. they had reached a pretty big house with two levels, with large windows that y/n would absolutely die to have and cute little bricks sticking out. "what? i thought we were going back to my parent's house?" "you wish." "who are we visiting?" "oh just a person i know from work," angelina said with a twinkle in her eyes. "okay. did we bring anything?" "just you," she replied, "me and george are heading back to our place. your stuffs at your parents." george nodded. y/n frowned, "okay." she bounded up to the door and knocked a couple of times. the door opened and she immediately began babbling off a greeting and an introduction without looking at the person. "i'm y/n l/n, and i understand you're from angie's work! it's nice to meet yo-" her eyes were met by chocolate brown ones, framed by so many freckles. fred lived in this place? "it's good to see you again, miss y/n l/n," he grinned and oh my oh my, y/n felt her heart skipping beats all over again. fred was worried when there was silence, but he was pleasantly surprised when he felt arms wrap as much as they could around his waist. true to his nature, his cheeks turned as red as his hair. he breathed in the smell of her hair, the smell of her and oh he had missed her so much. "i missed you a lot," he mumbled, tightening his grip around her, "so so so so so much." "me too, freddie," there that nickname was, and it made him possibly weak at how pretty she was and how pretty her voice was. when she let go, he almost felt empty, and so he snaked an arm around her waist. "your place is so beautiful, freddie!" his secret was that he had bought it hoping that she would

live with him. he knew she loved beautiful windows and bay windows and balconies. "not as beautiful as you, lovely." and his eyes were graced by her flustered expression, her cheeks tinted the most delightful shade of pink. "but the windows! gosh they're pretty." "wanna live with me?" he dropped the question ever so casually. "are you sure? i've got an apartment set up and all so it's no big deal-" "no. i want you to live with me." "then your wish is my command, i guess. i don't have much stuff though." "that's fine! i knew you would say yes so i got a bedroom ready for you." she hesitated. fred looked at her. "is everything okay?" "i-i don't want you to think that i'm best friends with you because you're rich or whatever and i feel like i'm taking advantage of your richness and it's not right?" "you're not, okay?" she nodded, still hesitating a little bit. "if you really feel bad you can come visit me and george in the shop and do some type of customer service. you'll be paid." "am i paying rent if i live here?" she asked. "no, y/n, i own this place." "don't you pay land tax?" "yeah, but it's not that much." "nope, i'm paying rent or you're not paying me for the shifts i do. or both. take your pick." "i won't pay you for the shifts. is this really a big deal?" "yes it is! it's money and morals. that's a very big deal." "okay, fair." "gimme a list of all my shifts please." "nah, you pop in whenever you can." "okay, when's rush hour?" "hogsmeade weekends and thursdays." ☆ it was night. y/n couldn't sleep at all. she was lying in the insanely boujee king sized bed and the insanely comfortable sheets, and she still couldn't fathom why she couldn't sleep. maybe it was because she always slept with one eye open in albania. habit. so she was just sitting in her bed, looking around the room. she was tired, but she couldn't be untired. and it would be selfish to disturb fred. but he had said his door was always open. so she crept out and made her way through the corridors, finally stopping at a door which she hoped was fred's bedroom. it was half ajar, so she peeked her head around it. he was asleep, a very thin blanket draped carelessly around his body, his ginger hair messy and his chest rising with every peaceful breath he took. his room was big and simple, cluttered in the most fred way. she approached him, tapping him on the shoulder lightly. "freddie??" he opened his eyes drowsily, "mmm?" "i can't sleep." "'ave you tried countin' broomst'cks?" "i can't sleep." "'kay," he pulled her into his bed, wrapping his arms around y/n and tucking most of the gryffindor red blanket under her chin. it smelled like him, "this 'kay?" fred was shirtless. y/n was blushing. "yeah." "mm, have a good night, okay? i'm here, you're safe." y/n nodded, feeling the most comfortable she had in two whole years, cuddling up to his chest as she fell into sleep. sleep. she hadn't properly slept in two whole years. every night would be spent either patrolling or anxiously preparing for the next day. when she did get some shut-eye, it was broken and restless. but her dreams were stopped with visions of terrifying death eaters casting sectumsempra onto the auror unit. she felt the pain she had endured through a long time ago. it left a scar on her back and imprints in her mind. it was impossible to forget. she remembered yelling as she saw another auror drop dead. running, running out of the hellhole of the death eater's base. "y/n, y/n," fred was shaking her awake. she was shaking, tears were running down her face. she fervently apologised to him. "don't say sorry, lovely," he wiped the tears off of her face, "what was your dream about?" "t-the mission, the death eaters w-were cutting people up and they got me." "oh darling, why didn't you tell me this before?" he asked gently, cradling her head to his chest. "it, it comes out at the worst times." "well you're not in albania anymore, okay, love? you're here, in london, and you're safe. you're okay, you're fine." she nodded, "sorry." "don't you dare,

it isn't your fault. sleep, okay? i'll wait for you to go to sleep before i do, yeah?" she nodded. her head fell onto his chest and fred traced gentle patterns on her back, whispering small nothings in her ear. for the first time, it seemed like fred could watch her without repercussions. even with her tear-stained cheeks and wild hair, she was beautiful. and when he had stayed up for hours into the night and morning for this girl, this was when he realised. he would do anything for her. he loved her.

[fashournalist]

Hello my dear! This is truly heartbreaking. They can count on Poland! I also recommend visiting the website of the Polish government with conditions on the basis which people can enter Poland and what should they do before leaving Ukraine! The links in three languages (English, Ukrainian, Russian) are provided in Edit3 to my post on my blog!

Dear Syubangel, thank you so much for giving this information and saving lives! I just sent your blog link to my father and he called his best friend so they can inform his churchmates about the opened borders. We didn't know what to do hours ago but to pray. We're on the other side of the world here in the Philippines, while Tito (dad's childhood best friend who is a missionary previously assigned in Ukraine) is in Albania. But now at least your post added hope, thank you! Tito forwarded your link to his churchmates; they're now praying they can find an interpreter because they don't speak English.

Dad played a prayer from Tito's churchmates recorded three hours ago. Even if we couldn't understand the language, we could feel the tension in their voice in such a threatening situation, but also hope in their hearts that the Lord will save them and the people of Ukraine, that they're not alone in this battle. They also spoke in tongues.

Before hearing the prayer, Tito told Dad they don't know how they would pass through Poland because the borders are closed and there is no transportation going towards the borders. And they could only count on prayers. And right now your blog is an answered prayer and we're hoping this can really help them cross safely. Thank you! We will update you when they arrive safely in Albania. Thank you to you and your country, Poland, for your hearts!

To anyone who may read this on your dashboard, let's pray for Ukrainians, the world, and that this would not escalate further :'( Sometimes all that we can do for others is pray, and it can be frustrating at times that we can't do more than that, but hey, prayers move mountains. They're not "just" prayers. They bring wonders. Let's unite in prayer for Ukraine and the world. And share Syubangel's post so more Ukrainians can see the information (check her account).

[borisbubbles]

ESC 2021 Preshow: 08. France

Barbara Pravi - “Voilà”

Autoqualifier

France going from 3rd last on my ranking / likely last place in the finale to 8th place in the ranking / probably top 3 in the Grand Final. 😍 WHAT A GLOW-UP.

So, “Voilà” is epic, obviously. Yeah I will skip the theatrics, each and every one of you know this song and we all know it’s probably the best French entry in ages. 

Funnily enough, I didn’t care for “Voilà” when I first heard it lmfao. It felt similar to the song Patricia Kaas went to Eurovision with and while “Et s’il faillait le faire” has its fans, I was never one of them. Worse, the internet immediately resorted to refering to “Voilà” as a “masterpiece” which is probably the pretentious statement you can make about Eurovision songs. Guys, it’s an Edith Piaf-inspired tribute act. Calm the eff down. Still, even at this early a stage I was instantly charmed by Barbara’s introspection and pluck even if I didn’t care for the music at first. After all, Barbara was the mastermind behind jesc HITS “Bim bam toi” and “J’imagine” and if she wants to bring a song that puts HER SELF at the forefront, she’s perfectly entitled to do so. About fucking time. On top of that, I thought the ending was sublime, even in studio version. “Why can’t the entire song be like that”, I thought. And then, E:CVQD arrived and Barbara SERVED, OUTSOLD, SLAYED, etc every superlative under the sun. 

So remember when I aired my critique regarding Gjon? “Tout l’Univers” is an “Objectively Strong” composition in that it employs music theory to conjure up a song that sounds impressive on first listen. But behind that academic skill lies virtually nothing of interest. I cannot connect with it beyond a base level because what does it tell me about Gjon or his story? Technique without a heart or a soul is merely pretense. But I suppose it can sound sophisticated to someone who doesn’t know what “sophistication” is. 

Barbara, however. Her personality just SPRINGS FORWARD on an approachable level from the first note. “Voilà”s’s technical expertise and Barbara’s own perfomance talents carry this vibe, this SERVE of personality, through the full three minutes without ever getting boring or tedious and they leave me craving for another listen. ALL OF THESE ARE AMAZING TRAITS IN A EUROVISION SONG. And this is just from the studio version, the live stage show makes it even better. 

So yeah, homeboy’s got his work cut out for him because if this is his competition he’ll have to graft hard for his victory.

NF Corner -  C’est Vous Qui Décidez

In what would become a running theme amidst countries this year, France led the charge in a personal project called #OperationForget2020, in which every trace of last year would be subsequently memory-holed. To acheive this, they revived their NF, gave it a new name and pretended it was ~The First NF of Its Format~ (so basically doing what Lithuania did last year when they rebranded Atranka into PiN).

INCIDENTALLY, this would also wind up the best NF of the year, pretty much by default because France had the most to win. Even though Barbara was the obvious winner from the instant the songs were revealed, the French had some excellent back-up options in their arsenal. Let’s rummage through them shall we?

LMK - “Magique”

R&B Trap wench <3 “Magique” starts off pretty and cute for fifteen seconds, before whiplashing hard into kick-ass tropical house territory. Her Slovene spirit mothers Raiven and Lea Sirk are so proud of her <3 She definitely deserved much better than the result she got (being NQ with the audience O_O), but lol it’s France, they ain’t NEVER crowning a sexually confident sassy woman, let’s not kid ourselves. 

Céphaz - “On a mangé le soleil”

This Hat God had me at that title. “We have eaten the sun” 😍😍😍😍. More songs should adopt a fatalistic environmental angle by using consumption-related metaphors à la “we’ve devoured out planet :burp:, MOAR”, and then set this suuuuper cynical and depressing text to an upbeat and optimistic soundtrack <3 The “Hey ya” tease of it all. 😍

Amui - “Maeva”

So cheerful it turns a surly cretin such as myself into a blundering mass of uwu. It’s like a nillies Eurovision semi NQ’er suddenly wandered into the set, so derivative and repetitive and tacky but SO fun and happy-go-lucky <3 The entire premise of “Maeva” is basically like: “VISIT FRENCH POLYNESIA, WE ARE THE MOST HOSPITABLE PEOPLE ON THIS EARTH” <333 using this message in the middle of a worldwide viral pandemic <33333333 Normally fun-trash like this would be murdered at first sight by any jury, but whoops “Maeva” turned out a massive televote hit HEHEE 😛 and finished third in the televote despite being last or second last with the jury. Those Tahitian diasporia votes coming through <3

Adriamad - “Allélujah”

TACKY EUROTRASH <3 Lol when I think of it, did I like this NF because it was good or because it was so fun-trash. Anyway, this display of diversity would normally be on my shitlist but it’s honestly SO OTT in its ~People Of The World Of All Colours Are Equal~ message it circles back into funny. The eye gimmick, the hammy choreography, the obnoxious fusion of several cultures into a nondescript ethnotrash hodgepodge, the fucking LYRICS everything is so funny and so entertaining it’s giving me LIFE. 😍 I’d say it deserved better but “Allélujah” stranding in the demifinal (not a typo) is honestly a much, much more satisfying result <3

Predicted Journey - France

Barbara is going on that Mahmood trajectory, I see. Early fave who gets near unanimous critical acclaim, rules solely on top until the other contenders show up and is then put on the backburner because she’s an autoqualifier and therefore isn’t a part of the “who will qualify?” discussions. Then, the rehearsals will happen and everyone will remember “hey, that French chick we almost forgot about is actually REALLY good” allowing her to pick up momentum again, catapulting her into the top five. So it is written, such it shall be.

The question is... Can she win? 

The answer is: yeah, possibly? At this point we have three potential contenders: Gjon for Switzerland and Destiny for Malta are the main rivals and I’d say Barbara has one big advantage over Gjon and Destiny: She already has a great live performance to back up her potential winner status. In fact, Barbara is a fave to win because we know what she’s going to bring in Rotterdam.  Gjon and Destiny could theoretically still bomb if their staging is off (and both are getting theirs done by Sasha Jean-Baptiste, soooooo) and their contenderness is based on things such as hype and expectation. Barbara meanwhile already had her baptism by fire when she competed in E:CQVD, which she handily won.

The problem though is Gjon Muharremaj. For the average eurofan, France and Switzerland have similar entries and it will result in a tug-of-war between which of them has the better song. Either could win this televote bout, and whoever does could beat Malta.. .but that would require Malta to have a disappointing televote result and with each passing day this is starting to look less likely. (Jury results matter less because they’re probably the top 3).  Personally I don’t really have a preference between Barbara OR Destiny as a win for either would push Eurovision in a better direction (A Gjon win though... I am TERRIFIED that may result in a 2022 contest filled with Vincent Bueno’s and Vasils), but if these three are indeed the top three, Barbara’s position is the most secure although she’s probably also the least likely one to actually win. Pray that I’m wrong though and we can all meet at her flat in Montmartre for a covid-proof afterparty. 

Projected placements:

> Grandfinal: 1st-5th (predicted Runner-up)

THE RANKING: 

01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08. FRANCE - Barbara Pravi - “Voilà” 09. BULGARIA - Victoria - “Growing up is getting old” 10. LATVIA - Samanta Tina - “The moon is rising” 11. GREECE - Stefania - “Last dance” 12. SWEDEN - Tusse - “Voices” 13. IRELAND - Leslie Roy - “Maps” 14. CROATIA - Albina - “Tick Tock” 15. MOLDOVA - Natalia Gordienko - “Sugar” 16. ITALY - Måneskin - “Zitti e buoni” 17. ALBANIA - Anxhela Peristeri - “Karma” 18. UNITED KINGDOM - James Newman - “Embers” 19. LITHUANIA - The Roop - “Discoteque” 20. ESTONIA - Uku Suviste - “The lucky one” 21. FINLAND - Blind Channel - “Dark side” 22. AZERBAIJAN - Efendi - “Mata Hari” 23. the NETHERLANDS - Jeangu Macrooy - “Birth of a new age” 24. CZECH REPUBLIC - Benny Christo - “Omaga” 25. DENMARK - Fyr og Flamme - “Øve os på hinanden” 26. SLOVENIA - Ana Soklič - “Amen” 27. SWITZERLAND - Gjon’s Tears - “Tout l’Univers” 28. ROMANIA - Roxen - “Amnesia” 29. SERBIA - Huricane - “Loco loco” 30. POLAND - Rafał - “The ride” 31. ISRAEL - Eden Alene - “Set me free” 32. GEORGIA - Tornike Kipiani - “You” 33. PORTUGAL - The Black Mamba - “Love is on my side” 34. SPAIN - Blas Cantó - “Voy a quedarme” 35. NORWAY - Tix - “Fallen Angel” 36. CYPRUS - Elena Tsagrinou - “El Diablo” 37. AUSTRIA - Vincent Bueno - “Amen” 38. NORTH MACEDONIA - Vasil - “Here I stand” 39. GERMANY - Jendrik - “I don’t feel hate”

[obsessionsposts]

🇳🇴Yan!Nyo!Norway with a Magical! Fem! Country!s/o🇳🇴:

Tw: Manipulations, gaslighting, war, violence, slight power complex, unhealthy relationships, violence, objectification, delusional thoughts and monopolize, etc....

Ah, Norway. One of your favoured places around the world, due to its mystical nature and enticing history. Not to mention, Camilla was and will always be the reason for your frequent visits to her country. Alongside the fact, that both of you are allies for eons.

One of the reasons that bonded you with her, is that you were innately sensitive to the presence of supernatural creatures and your interest of mysticism.

It all took place in 1231 AD, when a young girl with flowing (h/c) that cascades her shoulder and a warm (e/c) that are filled to the brim with curiosity ventured into her lands. At first, she was skeptic of your intentions but that changed as fast as her air currents.

To her, the fact you were aware of the creatures that hid behind nature made you special. Not everyone-especially her idiot søster-, are capable to witness such creatures without fearing their lives or commenting obnoxious remarks.

Instead, she saw you mesmerized and fascinated with the elves. And that fact, you interacted with them without any ulterior motive.

Since then, you become her new point of focus. Maybe....you're not as bad as the others. Plus, she found another girl who shares the same interest as her. So, she took the chance to form a political and romantic platonic relationship with you.

As time passed by, Camilla's bond with you skyrocketed as you both showcased your abilities, hidden dreams(outside your duties as a country) and open hearts to each others. Now, all that's left is for you to become hers...

Camilla Bondevik is a precise, calculating and 'has a stoic approach to life' kind of women. Unlike her male counterpart, she is a bit warmer. Which eases the manipulating romantic process significantly.

Rather being direct and risk her relationship with you, she'll begin to play the puppeteer with you. However, you must understand that you mean the world to her. Thus, you'll understand her actions..... And if you don't, she'll force make you!

Anyway, Camilla decided to lure the female country with the premises of experimenting new type of magic and exploring the vast enchanting lands of hers that houses all sorts of creatures. Her main goal of attracting the (h/c), is to slowly entrap her in her country without her awareness. Afterall, war is such a fickle thing she'd rather avoid. So, she'll have to be patient for her plan to work. She is willing to wait a century, if it means that she'll get you in the long run.

"Don't worry, Freyja. We have much to explore if you're up to it. It would be a shame, if we did not uncover the mysteries of Alfheim. Also, it would do great harm to our diplomatic relations wouldn't you say?"

Another thing to note, is that she'll keep an eye in your magical abilities. On one hand, she wants to tutor you in the arts of magic to see what you'll create. But, Camilla paranoia is picking her mind apart. Will you use it against her? Will you run from her? No, No. That simply won't do.

In this phase, her possessive nature will be bare for the eyes to see due to the rising fear that you may leave her like her damn younger søster. This is your last chance for you to take action, before you get retracted back to her.

At this point, Camilla knew what she's doing is irrational but she can't help it. You're filling the aching void in heart, that her sister left. From this point on, her actions becomes progressively aggressive until you are subdued.

She'll monopolize you, if she has to. Whether diplomatically, by anonymously spreading rumors about you funding terrorists in multiple nations. To which, it results in numerous countries cutting relationship ties with you forcing you to depend on her.

If that didn't deter you, then be prepared for war(which is her last resort)and mind you it's not a fair one either. She'll have the other nordics nation to back her up, so it will be 5 vs 1. Unless you have reliable allies or powerful forces, you'll be physically and mentally cornered. Just like how she prefers it.

A scared little animal cornered by a large predator. She won't deny it, but it gives her the satisfaction and power to see her s/o in such comprising positions. It has been so long since she has been in control.

And, so long you are (c/n). Now, you are simply a colony of your former delusional friend. Your history is shadowed by her. Whatever she says, it goes. Afterall, Camilla knows what's best for you! Even if she made a sea of carcasses out of your people, to prove that you desperately need her for protection that she's willingly to give.

"Shhh, no need to cry. I'm here. Afterall, we were bond by the fates to be together. As long as you're with me, I'll give you everything you desire and I'll protect you. Min elskede."

-----------------------

A/n: Sup, it has been a while. Sorry for that, I had alot of things to do and I was burned out. Anyway, I have some news for you.

First, I've got accepted at CS department in my University. 😁

Second, Historical Hetalia is acceptable if you want to request(if I opened the request) from them.

Third, Hetalia OC's are fine as well. Ex: Albania, Armenia, etc...(any nation that didn't appear in hetalia).

[justforbooks]

Sir Patrick Michael Leigh Fermor, DSO, OBE (also known as Paddy Fermor) was born on February 11, 1915. He was a British author, scholar, soldier and polyglot who played a prominent role behind the lines in the Cretan resistance during the Second World War. He was widely regarded as Britain's greatest living travel writer during his lifetime, based on books such as A Time of Gifts (1977). A BBC journalist once described him as "a cross between Indiana Jones, James Bond and Graham Greene".

In 1950 Leigh Fermor published his first book, The Traveller's Tree, about his post-war travels in the Caribbean. The book won the Heinemann Foundation Prize for Literature and established his career. The reviewer in The Times Literary Supplement wrote: "Mr Leigh Fermor never loses sight of the fact, not always grasped by superficial visitors, that most of the problems of the West Indies are the direct legacy of the slave trade." It was quoted extensively in Live and Let Die, by Ian Fleming. He went on to write several further books of his journeys, including Mani and Roumeli, of his travels on mule and foot around remote parts of Greece.

Leigh Fermor translated the manuscript The Cretan Runner written by George Psychoundakis, a dispatch runner on Crete during the war, and helped Psychoundakis get his work published. Leigh Fermor also wrote a novel, The Violins of Saint-Jacques, which was adapted as an opera by Malcolm Williamson. His friend Lawrence Durrell recounts in his book Bitter Lemons (1957) how, during the Cypriot insurgency against continued British rule in 1955, Leigh Fermor visited Durrell's villa in Bellapais, Cyprus:

After a splendid dinner by the fire he starts singing, songs of Crete, Athens, Macedonia. When I go out to refill the ouzo bottle...I find the street completely filled with people listening in utter silence and darkness. Everyone seems struck dumb. 'What is it?' I say, catching sight of Frangos. 'Never have I heard of Englishmen singing Greek songs like this!' Their reverent amazement is touching; it is as if they want to embrace Paddy wherever he goes.

After living with her for many years, Leigh Fermor was married in 1968 to the Honourable Joan Elizabeth Rayner (née Eyres Monsell), daughter of Bolton Eyres-Monsell, 1st Viscount Monsell. She accompanied him on many of his travels until her death in Kardamyli in June 2003, aged 91. They had no children. They lived part of the year in their house in an olive grove near Kardamyli in the Mani Peninsula, southern Peloponnese, and part of the year in Gloucestershire.

In 2007, he said that, for the first time, he had decided to work using a typewriter, having written all his books longhand until then.

He opened his home in Kardamyli to the local villagers on his name day. New Zealand writer Maggie Rainey-Smith (who was staying in the area while researching for her next book) joined in with his name day celebration in November 2007, and, after his death, posted some of the photographs taken that day. The house at Kardamyli was featured in the 2013 film Before Midnight.

Leigh Fermor influenced a generation of British travel writers, including Bruce Chatwin, Colin Thubron, Philip Marsden, Nicholas Crane and Rory Stewart.

Works

Books

The Traveller's Tree. (1950)

The Violins of Saint-Jacques. (1953)

A Time to Keep Silence (1957), with photographs by Joan Eyres Monsell. This was an early publication from the Queen Anne Press, a company managed by Leigh Fermor's friend Ian Fleming. In this book he describes his experiences in several monasteries, and the profound effect the time spent in them had on him.

Mani: Travels in the Southern Peloponnese (1958)

Roumeli: Travels in Northern Greece (1966)

A Time of Gifts – On Foot to Constantinople: From the Hook of Holland to the Middle Danube (1977, published by John Murray)

Between the Woods and the Water – On Foot to Constantinople from the Hook of Holland: the Middle Danube to the Iron Gates (1986)

Three Letters from the Andes (1991)

Words of Mercury (2003), edited by Artemis Cooper

Introduction to Into Colditz by Lt Colonel Miles Reid (Michael Russell Publishing Ltd, Wilton, 1983). The story of Reid's captivity in Colditz and eventual escape by faking illness so as to qualify for repatriation. Reid had served with Leigh Fermor in Greece and was captured there trying to defend the Corinth Canal bridge in 1941.

Foreword of Albanian Assignment by Colonel David Smiley (Chatto & Windus, London, 1984). The story of SOE in Albania, by a brother in arms of Leigh Fermor, who was later a MI6 agent.

In Tearing Haste: Letters Between Deborah Devonshire and Patrick Leigh Fermor (2008), edited by Charlotte Mosley. (Deborah Cavendish, Duchess of Devonshire, the youngest of the six Mitford sisters, was the wife of the 11th Duke of Devonshire).

The Broken Road – Travels from Bulgaria to Mount Athos (2013), edited by Artemis Cooper and Colin Thubron from PLF's unfinished manuscript of the third volume of his account of his walk across Europe in the 1930s.

Abducting A General – The Kreipe Operation and SOE in Crete (2014)

Dashing for the Post: the Letters of Patrick Leigh Fermor (2017), edited by Adam Sisman

More Dashing: Further Letters of Patrick Leigh Fermor (2018), edited by Adam Sisman

Translations

No Innocent Abroad (published in United States as Forever Ulysses) by C. P. Rodocanachi (1938)

Julie de Carneilhan and Chance Acquaintances by Colette (1952)

The Cretan Runner: His Story of the German Occupation by George Psychoundakis (1955)

Screenplay

The Roots of Heaven (1958) adventure film, directed by John Huston

Periodicals

"A Monastery", in The Cornhill Magazine, London, no. 979, Summer, 1949.

"From Solesmes to La Grande Trappe", in The Cornhill Magazine, John Murray, London, no. 982, Spring 1950.

"Voodoo Rites in Haiti", in World Review, London, October 1950.

"The Rock-Monasteries of Cappadocia", in The Cornhill Magazine, London, no. 986, Spring 1951.

"The Monasteries of the Air", in The Cornhill Magazine, London, no. 987, Summer 1951.

"The Entrance to Hades", in The Cornhill Magazine, London, no. 1011, Spring 1957.

Books about Patrick and Joan Leigh Fermor

Artemis Cooper: Patrick Leigh Fermor. An Adventure (2012)

Helias Doundoulakis, Gabriella Gafni: My Unique Lifetime Association with Patrick Leigh Ferrmor (2015)

Simon Fenwick: Joan. The Remarkable Life of Joan Leigh Fermor (2017)

Michael O'Sullivan: Patrick Leigh Fermor, Noble Encounters between Budapest and Transylvania (2018)

Leigh Fermor was noted for his strong physical constitution, even though he smoked 80 to 100 cigarettes a day. Although in his last years he suffered from tunnel vision and wore hearing aids, he remained physically fit up to his death and dined at table on the last evening of his life.

For the last few months of his life Leigh Fermor suffered from a cancerous tumour, and in early June 2011 he underwent a tracheotomy in Greece. As death was close, according to local Greek friends, he expressed a wish to visit England to say good-bye to his friends, and then return to die in Kardamyli, though it is also stated that he actually wished to die in England and be buried next to his wife.

Leigh Fermor died in England, aged 96, on 10 June 2011, the day after his return. His funeral took place at St Peter's Church, Dumbleton, Gloucestershire, on 16 June 2011. A Guard of Honour was provided by serving and former members of the Intelligence Corps, and a bugler from the Irish Guards sounded the Last Post and reveille. Leigh Fermor is buried next to his wife in the churchyard at Dumbleton.

The Greek inscription is a quotation from Konstantinos Kavafis that can be translated as "In addition, he was that best of all things, Hellenic".

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at http://justforbooks.tumblr.com

[lunavadash-creates]

First of all, bro, you have Sims! You won a life! My laptop is too old and broken for such luxuries! Please make my sim and my harem too lol. Give me all the men I deserve.😂

I may or may not be thinking about buying a new one tho. And it may or may not be just because of the latest expanded pack to the game and possibility of having my own cow.🐮 But on the other hand, I would love to go somewhere for a few days in nearest gutter if covid lets me.. So having savings would be nice.

Speaking of travelling. Stories. I am not a storyteller buuut… you mentioned you travelled by metro in Prague and that in your country there is just one line in the capital. Seoul has so many lines! It’s so easy to get lost.. Korean metro is one of my clearest memories of my stay in Seoul. On the very first day of my stay I and my 3 friends had a “houston we have smol problem” situation, just because 2 of my companions hadnt bought a korean sim card (our cards didnt work at all) and we got separated in the metro train. I mean.. I and my good friend didnt get inside on time while other two friends made it. In our group just one person knew where our hostel was and how we could get there. And she was gone. There wasn’t any plan b, no one even thought about the possibility of getting separated. No one amongst us spoke korean, Koreans had problems with communicating in english.. WELL, SH*T. We didn’t know if we should take the next train and others would wait at the next station or if we should stay where we were. Luckily I and one of my friends that got into the train on time had our mobiles working so we were able to communicate, but we were this close to having HOME ALONE IN SEOUL.

The second one memory and one of things I miss the most are metro jingles! God, I loved them so much! If you see Seoul Metro Jingles on Xander Tiberius channel on youtube you will be able to hear my favourite one! It’s the first one in this short video! I am pretty sure you will love it.

We came right on korean thanksgiving festival called Chuseok and it was the best decision ever. People were wearing their traditional costumes, hanboks, all the time! They were so freaking beautiful! 💕 We went to Gyeonbokgung Palace and Changdeogung Palace and when I saw them covered in paintings with obangsaek scheme with my own eyes I almost cried. I love art, so Seoul was the perfect place for me. I love korean folk paintings (please, check them with my favorite tigers and magpie theme - tigers on them are so funny and wonderful - I bought like a million postcards with its images), but their modern art is great too. Especially all those murals - you can check Ihwa Mural Village. It was ASDFGHJKLLOVE.

Street food? Excellent, however I don’t like spicy food. I wanted to try silkworm stew but at the last moment I gave up on this. Too extreme for me. But I have eaten the best ice cream in my whole life and they tasted like earl grey tea.

But what was definitely the best part of my trip? Cafes! Dog cafe, raccoon cafe, Moomin cafe, sheep cafe, Hello Kitty cafe! I love dogs with all my heart so that one was definitely my favourite one and I would love to stay there forever! Raccoon one was also freakin good! For the very first time I had encountered a raccoon. Their paws are so delicate!

Travelling is such a magical experience.There are so many things to see and to try! What was your favourite place you travelled to and why? Do you have a place you would like to visit again? Where would you like to go the most? You said you were travelling with your family. Do you have some stories to share?

I am sorry for such long messages! But I can talk for hours about such things. And I like to chat with you. I am impressed with my ability to produce so many words at once. Usually I am the quiet one and very awkward too.

🔪

I have no idea how I missed this message. Like really, I was wondering if you will tell me your travel story and look! It's been here for who knows how long! I'm m so sorry ;;

So yeah, lemme show you my Sims because idk. I think I'm kind of proud of this Altair.

So first is the randomly generated Sims

And here is Altair I made:

I wonder what do you think about him. Don't mind hie clothes tho 😂

Back to you baby! I love your story and I envy you so much! Raccoon cafe? Good food? You won me, really. I always wanted to see/touch a raccoon but since they aren't here I simply can't. But those grabby lil pawsies! U realu envy you and I'm also so happy you had fun and now you have so much fun memories you can share. Thank you so much!

As for spicy food. I love it.

And really I really enjoy talking with you, you are so nice and passionate and never be sorry for writing a lot! I love having your messages and responding to every single one of them! Even if sometimes I'm a bit late (sorrtyyyyyyy)

As for my stories... I was attacked by a bear in Albania! 😂 I'm still terrified of them. A lady was walking a bear on a chain leash and I was passing by with peanuts. And the bear attacked me, trying to take them from me. It was so scary but I win the battle over peanuts. I was like 13. But really I don't like bears now.

I want to see literally all the world. I want to go to Greece again and Bulgaria. Bulgaria is my favourite country! Also I want to see Turkey and Egypt and Japan and China!

Hbu? Do you have more travel plans?

[fromrusttoroadtrip]

When we arrived in Albania on an unseasonably warm January day our hearts were fraught with a mixture of emotions: comfort, familiarity, but also a degree of hesitation. We had fond memories of our time in this country, but were they simply painted bright by nostalgia, and would our second visit live up to expectation?⁣

Our answers to these questions came on just our second day here.⁣

We’d spent the day basking in sunshine, washing our van and dipping our bodies into the icy waters of Lake Prespa, and were just beginning to enjoy one of those spectacular Albanian sunsets which painted the mountains the particular shade of purple that was so ingrained into our memories. We went to fire up the engine but our van refused to start; the batteries were too flat, the air too cold. The engine got slower and slower until it had no juice left to give. We were now faced with the prospect of a night here with no power, no heating and no light; we’d seen approximately three cars all day and the light outside was rapidly fading.

Yet somehow, whether by miracle or fate or pure coincidence, a car approached just two minutes later. We waved them down, explained as best we could what had happened, and the man along with all six members of his family came over to help us. We had no jump leads but this didn’t deter him, and in the most Balkan display of ingenuity and problem solving he had our van running in no time by swapping our battery with the one from his car, starting the engine then swapping them back around while it was still running. He even fixed the loose positive terminal with a screw.⁣

Feeling like we’d been a burden we offered him a shot of rakia as a thank you and his face lit up; they then immediately invited us to join them for their son’s birthday party at a nearby restaurant. Instead of spending a cold, dark night in our van we spent the evening drinking, sampling local cuisine, having conversations via Google Translate, eating homemade baklava and birthday cake and toasting each member of the table with a hearty, “𝘎ë𝘻𝘢𝘶𝘳!”⁣

What a welcome back into Albania.

[seatosomert]

Manchester Northern Quarter.

One of the the great things about Britain is the mix of very different cities and towns throughout this relatively small country.

I love nature and the Countryside, yet there is something very appealing about the big city.

London of course, or the 'Big Smoke' as I sometimes refer, is the epitomy of the big city. You could spend many years exploring each nook and cranny of London, and in fact that is exactly what i am doing.

It's hustle and bustle before the Global Pandemic of Covid 19 is always impressive and a sight to behold. London is hugely populous, has an amazing transport network and is hugely multi-cultural.

I never get bored of visiting and photographing London.

Yet when you leave London and start to head North, a lot changes. The architecture changes in a lot of respect as you start to see more evidence of the Industrial revolution of the late 1700s into the 1800s and beyond.

Nowhere is this more evident than in the Counties of Yorkshire and Lancashire. Where a once thrving textile industry dominated. Leeds, Bradford and Halifax are great examples of old mill complexes of Victorian times. Some of which lie abandoned and very slowly decaying. Whilst many have been renovated and made into beautiful luxury accomodation.

Start heading just 50 minutes West over the Pennines by car and you arrive in the Lancashire, in particular, Manchester.

For me, Manchester, home of the once famous franchise that is Manchester United football team, has that big city feel but isn't so big as to be overwhelming. In fact Manchester Town Centre is easily doable on foot in the day.

The Central Perk mock up coffee shop in the Primark there is definitely worth a visit for a nice coffee and cake if you're a big fan of the 1990s series Friends. When you're all snacked up, I then head to the part of Manchester i love the most . The Northern Quarter.

For me, The northern Quarter (NQ) reminds me a little of Down town New York. Old brick built buildings with extensive metal fire escapes and external ducting, Neon lights in shades of red, street art aplenty and some interesting, and slightly seedier looking little shops all add to the feel. It's actually a trendy part of town. It's most definitely worth the ten minute walk from the Main Victoria Train Station.

I've had a few trips to Manchester now and I'll be planning another one soon as lockdown is now lifting.

You've also got the tram system in most other parts of town which an often make interesting images when shot right.

I shot some light trail images as dusk descending upon us which you'll see here. I took a pal with me that day who asked me for some photography coaching, which i obliged with. So he features in some of the images. In case you're wondering, he's holding one of my old Olympus Trip 35 cameras which we shot that day with a roll of film that's been in the camera at least 5 years. I can't remember what film is in it, or what I've shot with it! A nice surprise i guess for me when i have it developed.

I met an interesting character whilst shooting. I learned that he was a fellow photog from Albania who had come to the UK looking to develop his skills and hopefully career in photography he revealed.

He was a larger than life character and he stood out from the drabness of the greyness of Manchester that day, as the weather was a bit naff. Hence why i dropped the background into monochrome and left him in colour.

If you do visit Manchester centre, do pay attention up and down the little streets. You never know what you might see.

For me, Manchester NQ has different feel to any of the many other Northern cities I have visited.

I recommend it.

If you like what you have read here please hit like, consider sharing and don't forget to hit follow to stay in touch with more of my content.

Hope this was useful guys.

All the best.

Regards,

Neil.