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mariacallous · 5 months ago

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If there’s one generalization that can stand the test of time, it’s that Jews love pickles. They’re a briny bit of respite from a heavy meal, the snack that solidifies the romantic connection between the protagonists of “Crossing Delancey,” and the hook that keeps people coming back to Sweet Pickle Books — a one-of-a-kind used bookstore at 47 Orchard St. on the Lower East Side that also sells its own line of pickles.

If you’re questioning just how, exactly, one comes up with the concept of a pickle book store — let alone one that’s become an au courant hangout spot downtown — you’re not alone. Founder and owner Leigh Altshuler, a 30-year-old book- and pickle-lover, came up with the idea at the beginning of the pandemic.

“I knew [the store] was going to be books and something and it didn’t have a name, and I knew I wanted it to be after family and being Jewish…and I was just thinking about the lowest common denominator between the two and it was just like..pickles. And that’s where it all began.” Altshuler said.

The idea of opening a used bookstore first hit Altshuler at the beginning of the pandemic. “I really became a big ol’ mushy weirdo about books,” Altshuler said. “I went into Mercer Books which was closing that day in March at 3pm, and I remember a cop came in at, like 2:53, and asked the owner why he wasn’t closed yet. And I was just like, ‘he has time!’”

“I walked home and I just thought it was such a shame that these stores are closing and who knows what’s going to happen,” she said.

A former communications director for New York’s legendary used bookstore, The Strand, Altshuler saw the myriad of empty storefronts across the Lower East Side as an opportunity to set up a shop of her own. After losing her marketing job at the McKittrick Hotel and getting over a breakup in her shoebox apartment, Altshuler opened Sweet Pickle Books in October 2020. It was both a financial gamble and an attempt to honor her personal affinity for the used book industry — a community that felt especially precarious during the height of the COVID-19 pandemic.

As for the pickles, Altshuler and her boyfriend originally experimented with dozens of recipes from during the lockdown by testing out different salt and cucumber varieties until they batched out the first 360 jars — which barely lasted a month. Now, she sources the pickles from a Texas-based farm, and regular customers can swap their book donations for a free jar of branded pickles or buy them separately in store or online, coming in flavors bread and butter, spicy, and dill for $9.50-$12.95.

Which, for operating in a neighborhood that used to be known as the Jewish “pickle alley” in the late 19th and early 20th century, feels perfectly kismet. Altshuler lives about four blocks away in the Lower East Side, and while taking walks during the pandemic saw the empty storefronts and remembered how growing up, relatives told her about the influx of Jewish immigrants that were able to sell and make pickles for cheap in barrels and pushcarts. On the cross street that Sweet Pickle Books is nestled between, over eighty Jewish pickle vendors used to make their living, which is history that Altshuler is very grateful she gets to inform people about for the first time and inadvertently continue the legacy.

“When I first opened, everyone said I was crazy,” she said. “My dad kept on saying to me, ‘Oh, if you do it,’ and I was like, there’s no more ‘if’ here, it’s happening!”

“I don’t even know why I had such a belief it would work,” she added, “but I think it was just a feeling.”

Now, two years out, Sweet Pickle Books is a quirky literary destination for locals and tourists alike — and browsing through the store, it’s easy to see why. The railroad-style aisles are lined with love-worn paperbacks that tend to hover below the $10 mark, a disco ball swings in the corner, and the smooth stylings of the Vince Guardali Trio softly murmur from speakers throughout the store. There’s a pickle costume that young customers frequently take photos in, and big names like Harry Styles and Fran Leibowitz, said Altshuler, have popped in.

To the untrained eye, it may seem like a miracle that a first-time business owner successfully opened a brick and mortar store during a pandemic — let alone one selling actual books amidst a digital culture that mostly obtains information online. Some people think it’s odd that people would even be interested in books anymore, let alone used ones. But Altshuler knows better than that.

“Everyone always asks me, ‘Do people read anymore?’ But book people literally show up and haul books across town because they love it and care about these things,” Altschuler said. “[Sweet Pickle Books] just became the lowest common denominator where people could go for a low price tag and have a real conversation about something.”

Growing up in a heavily Jewish suburb in South Florida where she regularly cruised around the JCC, Altshuler always considered both her culture and religion an innate part of who she is and how she moves about the world. “I basically had no idea that people weren’t Jewish because that’s just where I was from,” she said. “My boyfriend is from Australia and he had no idea that you get a bowl of pickles with your meal at a diner, and I thought every restaurant in the world had that.”

Altshuler still proudly self identifies as Jewish, and running a business in the ancestral heart of Jewish history has only made her connection to her heritage even stronger. “I think [Sweet Pickle Books has] connected me to faith in ways I didn’t really expect,” she said. “I’m understanding the themes in different ways, and seeing the importance of passing tradition on. And so much of that is centered around food, but also stories — and storytelling is exactly what a bookstore is. I feel like it just makes sense.”

In this way, Sweet Pickle Books became a conduit for tradition that feels authentic to Jewish customers and accessible for those who would like to learn more. “A customer of mine found out that she was Jewish and came to me on New Years Eve with a babka and a Zabars mug and told me that she wanted to thank me for teaching her so much about Judaism,” she said, “and she was so happy to have a friend to talk to about being Jewish.”

“I just didn’t expect to be that person for someone,” she added. “That’s a really wonderful thing that I feel like my Jewish mother would be doing cartwheels over.”

Incidentally bridging the gap between communities isn’t something limited to Judaism, though, as Sweet Pickle Books is known to attract customers of all creeds — from the older, New York born-and-bred book hagglers that Altshuler lovingly refers to as her “curmudgeons,” to the droves of TikTok tweens in handkerchief tops, hoping to go viral by posting about a crazy new pickle shop. By harnessing the virtues of old school tradition and trendy innovation, “I really do want to be the bridge between the two,” she said.

“Sometimes I just look at the store and I want to cry because it’s so sentimental to me — like, it’s so real and important in New York history,” she added. “So many people don’t know this was a pickling district, and every day, I’m like, how else would these conversations happen? It makes me look up stuff, and I feel very special that I get to tell people.”

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0pawprint0 · 5 months ago

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All the autographs I got! The only person on my list I didn’t get was Matthew. His lines were long throughout the whole con. But I got a picture with him and he complimented my Shaggy cosplay, so I still consider it a win! He was super kind.

The Hazbin gang were all so sweet and talking to them was so much fun! They all seemed to love my Sir Pentious cosplay! Erika even asked for a pic to show Alex. He didn’t respond while I was there, but he’s a very busy person, so I get it completely ^^

I nearly cried when I got to meet Rob. I have looked up to him for so long and it was so amazing to finally meet him. He was as wonderful as you’d expect. It was super hard to choose which poster for him to sign because he plays so many characters I love. I ended up picking Donnie because TMNT 2012 is my favorite version and I never see anything for it. I was telling him about how even some of his super specific roles like Eric from The Little Mermaid 2 have stuck with me and he gave me a hug! He also addressed me in Donnie’s voice and knew how to spell my name without me even needing to tell him! Most people don’t spell it right. He also complimented my cosplay and asked me how to make it and everything (I was Sir Pentious that day). It was such a good time. I would talk with him all day if I could. I unfortunately didn’t get a picture with him because I didn’t have enough money (things tend to go wrong when I’m trying to save money and I had to pay to fix some things the month before fhfhfhdn). But I’m hoping to see him again one day and next time I will get a picture!

Grey was so fun to talk to! She actually had her hair put up with a pin to look like Azula (Avatar: The Last Airbender), another character she plays. She excitedly addressed me as Shaggy (the cosplay I was wearing that day), telling my sister and I to "throw Scooby Snacks at any monsters you see!" and told us not to unmask anyone :’) she’s so silly and fun I love herrr! She gave us a hug, too! Frank was super nice and loved the poster my sister brought for him to sign (she got it from an artist at the con) and he even did Scooby’s voice to us!

My sister is a big fan of Cameron Monaghan, so we went to his panel. She was able to get a pic and autograph with him, too! I don’t have the pictures with her because I don’t think she’d want me to post her face here lol.

I didn’t get an autograph from him because of money, but I also got to meet Johnny Yong Bosch! He’s most known for Ichigo from Bleach, but what I was excited for was talking to him about Danganronpa (he is Hajime and Rantaro)!

This is my haul I got from comic con (excluding the things that came with my ticket). I did, indeed, come home with 4 Miku figures. But one was free! Because at that booth it was buy 2, get 1 free.

I also got a Neighthan Rot doll for fairly cheap (they go as high as $70 online). Tbh a Monster High doll is the last thing I expected to get at a con, but I’m pretty down with it lol. Especially because it’s in great condition and still had his journal!

For the Harry Potter sticker and pin, we got those for free at a free Harry Potter trivia we went to because HP is my sister’s favorite book series. She also won a book she doesn’t have! It was like a Dumbledore side story (note: neither of us support or like Rowling as a person. She did not get any money out of us, as this was free).

The mushroom sticker was given to me by an artist as I passed their table! Their info is there on the sticker if you’re interested in their work!

The stickerssss! They make me so happy. There was so many more this artist had that I wanted, but I didn’t have the money for it, unfortunately. I got Ciel, Sebastian, Grell, and Undertaker (Black Butler), Bill, Stan, Wendy, Dipper, Mabel, and Waddles (Gravity Falls - they didn’t have Soos or Ford rip), Craig and Tweek (South Park), Sir Pentious (Hazbin Hotel), Stolas (Helluva Boss), Rampo (Bungou Stray Dogs), and Amaimon (Blue Exorcist).

This stuff came with my ticket! I LOVE the poster!

I didn’t get these, but I thought they were really funny.

Post 2/2

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centrally-unplanned · 6 months ago

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youtube

As I normally do, I very much enjoyed Folding Idea's latest video, an interpretative discussion/cinematography flex about James Rolfe aka Angry Video Game Nerd. Anyone treating the history of the internet with the depth it contains, as a culture & medium unto itself, is gonna get a win in my book.

It also hit on a point I find myself always coming back to in cultural history; how often people confuse chronology & causation. The Angry Video Game nerd is, of course, one of the most influential "Youtubers" to ever exist, by virtue of being one of the first ever do, in video format, media reviews via a comedic lens. There are years where you can say he was the center of the whole genre. He inspired legions of imitators, some incredibly directly referencing him in their identity, and when you talk to a ~30 year old online creator today who does things adjacent to that space, you can bet good money they watched AVGN when they were a teen.

(I didn't - my stereotypical influence is the Red Letter Media Prequel Reviews)

But is he that influential? Depends on your meaning, of course. Because when you ask people what that influence is, they say something like "pioneering comedic, caustic, hyperbolic review video essays". Which, he did, but he invented none of those parts. As the above video outlines, caustic, exaggerated reviews of media have been around for about as long as reviews have existed as a consumer product; making them entertaining for their own sake is an incredibly logical leap to take. AVGN was coming around in a time where slapstick violence and faux-rage was entirely the vibe of the internet; Penny Arcade had been doing its thing for over half a decade before AVGN's first video was published.

And more importantly, video content in those days was obviously going to lean towards things like comedy and "skit" styles compared to say text reviews, because it complemented the medium better. It takes a lot of niche craft to make a rage speech pop on text; it's much more accessible to just be a good actor and be visibly raging. Going even more downstream, the "media mix" of people consuming content about the art they like or engage with was so old hat by the 2000's that consumer brands were using it as fucking jargon in marketing meetings. There isn't a world where this kind of content would not have appeared. It had to, the culture demanded it.

This is no grand dig at AVGN of course - this is to some extent true of all artists. As Olsen's video notes, what set AVGN apart was that James Rolfe was not a game reviewer; he was a filmographer, he had gone to film school, he was trying to make movies. Which in 2004 meant that he had a ton of cameras and lighting and equipment to make viable content in a way others did not. He had a technological advantage in exploring a new medium, one that would fade as webcams and lighting rings became as cheap as dirt, or shift as markets for crazy stuff like vtuber rigs would evolve. And of course the specific way he went about his content did imprint itself on the medium.

But not thaaat much; I think time has not been kind to AVGN. The humor is of course dated to its time, the MTV's Jackass of video game reviews. And as the medium of self-published video essays has evolved, the medium discovered approaches far better than comedic skit shows. Much longer content is possible, you can ride on parasociality and authenticity instead of endless "joke moments" (Or go the reverse - every comedy video from the old days is too long, a tiktok-level joke stretched over 5 minutes). Some of this was tech dependent as well, of course - youtube had duration limits on uploads in 2005! Making 4 hour Star Wars Hotel videos was not possible outside of stringing "Part 1 of 37" video playlists together. But time and culture marches on as well, and I don't think the average creator today is pulling from 2005 Youtube much at all, really. They are different eras.

As mentioned, if you ever deal with doing causation in cultural history, you run into this all the time - people essentially going "work X was first, and therefore invented the genre and influenced all after". And I don't think it really works that way - establishing causation just takes far more detail than that.

#history of the internet #folding ideas #Youtube

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artemisravencourtney · 7 months ago

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Klaroline WIP Wednesday: Mixing all the Colors like we're Making a Monet ch2

This one will come out some time this week so keep an eye out if you're interested!

So,” she starts, wringing her hands anxiously, “are you staying in another one of those hotel suites that’s bigger than my college dorm?”

He smirks at her, and it’s when she slumps in relief that he understands what seems to have changed. She’s unsure. When they’d met in Miami, Caroline had been in complete control from the moment he’d walked in, bending the narrative to suit her own desires and refusing to give an inch, as she always does. She’d been the picture of confidence, refusing to let anything stop her from having the carefree spring break she’d wanted.

Whatever she’s in Berlin for, she’s nervous about it. He’d thought it was just the overwhelm of the club, but in all the time they’ve known each other she’s rarely been so skittish around him. Hell, the first time they’d properly spoken the infernal woman was throwing barbs at him on her own deathbed! Concerned, he resolves to delay his flight for a few days. Whatever trouble she’s in, he’ll help her. Even if she doesn’t ask him to.

For now, he should get her somewhere safe. “I’m afraid not, love. I wasn’t planning to stay in Berlin for long, so I booked whatever was closest to the airport.”

She raises a brow, “The great Klaus Mikaelson, richer than all us other lowly vampires combined, staying in a cheap motel? Now I’ve really seen it all.” She pauses, eyes flickering with something he doesn’t recognize, “How long are you here for?”

“You’d do well to remember that I’ve been alive since before the existence of indoor showers and temperature control. Motels are hardly the worst places I’ve slept. And to answer your question…” he trails off, taking his phone out and sending Elijah a quick message, “I was supposed to be leaving tomorrow afternoon, but I’ve just asked to have my tickets changed.”

Caroline blinks up at him in surprise, and he doesn’t miss the dazzling grin that she attempts to tamp down. It makes his chest bloom with warmth to know she wants to catch up just as much as she does. “Changed to when?” she cocks her head to the side with the faux-innocence he so adores on her, and he can’t help but laugh.

He’s missed her, truly.

“Well that depends, love. When is your return flight?”

This time, she doesn’t bother to hide her smile. “I actually bought a one-way ticket. My new job is mostly online so I thought it would be nice to travel for a while. Figured I’d know when I was ready to leave.” A flash of fear crosses her face again, “I actually have an apartment not too far from here, like, maybe ten minutes? It’s no five-star suite at the Marriott but if you want to-”

“Yes.”

“Yes?” she asks hopefully.

He helps her into his coat and pulls on his own, even though neither of them can feel the cold.

When he’s satisfied, he interlaces her fingers with his.

“Lead the way.”

#klaroline #klaus mikaelson #caroline forbes #the vampire diaries #klaroline fanfiction #klaroline fanfic #fanfiction writing #my fanfic writing #making a monet #klaroline wip wed

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thehamletdiaries · 1 year ago

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a comedy of errors (or: getting to Wittenberg)

So, I have, for a long time, wanted to visit Wittenberg, for obvious reasons. It is where my boys went to university, it is where they met; it’s a huge part of their story.

It’s also, it turns out, a nightmare to get to, particularly if you try and do it by train, from Amsterdam.

It was meant to be about a seven hour journey - which seems long but I’ve done longer and I was not especially phased by that. When one of my trains, however (there were…I don’t even remember…about five changes in the original route I was meant to take), simply did not exist, I was a little phased by that. I’d actually been indirectly warned the week before by a lovely woman I was on a writing retreat with; she is German and had written a short piece about how bad the German train system is.

So, when that train did not materialise, I decided to just keep going in the right direction. If there was a train I could get on that would take me across Germany headed east, and ideally heading a bit southeast if possible, I’d get on it. Well, I did that until it was too late at night and the next train from wherever I was at that point wasn’t until the next day, so I gave up and booked myself into a cheap hotel.

The next day, I started off in the same way; getting on trains that were heading in roughly the right direction, until finally, I end up in Magdeburg and there it is; an S8 that takes me right to Wittenberg station, at the perfectly reasonable time of 4:45pm. It’s freezing cold, even in the waiting area, but I only have about an hour to wait.

And then the train doesn’t come. It vanished from the board and was replaced by the next train. I’m very sure that it didn’t just change platforms or anything because everyone else waiting on the platform with me just sort of sighs and goes back into the waiting room. There is another S8 coming at 6:45pm. Not as good, but still fine. Except now I’m worried that train will also just…not turn up. But I don’t know what else to do, so I wait (I did at some point during all of this look at taxi options but there were no taxis around and every online and app based booking option I looked at said none were available to take me that far).

And then the 6:45pm train doesn’t turn up either.

At this point I’m freezing cold and trying to work out what on earth to do. Do I go to Berlin, which is absolutely in the wrong direction, and then see if I can get a train south from there?

And then this guy carrying a Primark bag comes up to me. I’d seen him waiting on the train platform. Now, as a woman travelling alone, if a random guy comes up to you, you really do want to be careful. But I’ll say that all the vibes from this guy felt good and earnest and not at all creepy - and I was proved right in that so…sometimes you do have to trust your instincts on stuff like that.

Anyway, this guy comes up to me and just says, “Wittenberg?”. I don’t know how he knew I was going to Wittenberg, because the S8 stopped at a bunch of other places too, but I just nodded. I couldn’t ask him how he knew, or rather why he thought, I was going there either because he didn’t speak any English (and I know only enough German to say hello and thank you). He then typed out something into google translate on his phone; he was asking, if we split a taxi fare, if I wanted to share a taxi. Considering I had no idea how to get a taxi from there at all, I readily agreed - and long story short he did, somehow, get us a taxi and we drove through the dark to Wittenberg, communicating where needed via google translate on our phones. The taxi dropped me off just down the road from where I was staying so he walked me down to the apartment and then said goodnight and headed off. I was genuinely so grateful for his help.

So then, I get inside the apartment and open the lockbox which was supposed to have the key in it. It opens with the code I was given…but it is empty. I swore under my breath.

I ended up knocking on apartment 1 (I was staying in apartment 3) where I could hear music was playing and a very nice young girl staying there let me leave my bags there and advised me to ask the guy in apartment 4. I knocked, but there was no answer…but then I thought I could hear someone in apartment 3. So I knock and a guy opens the door. Which is slightly bewildering. He also doesn’t speak English - and again, I have no German - so it’s back to google translate and long story short, they have double booked us. He tries to call the people letting out the apartment, with no success…and eventually I ask him if, for the night (it’s about 8:30pm by that point) there is a sofa I can stay on or something; I literally have nowhere else to go. He nods and shows me there are actually two bedrooms - not that either of us paid to have to live together, but for one night it seems like our only option.

However, I was only there for maybe an hour and a half when he knocks on my door to tell me, via google translate, of course, that the people letting the place rang him back and I can have apartment 2, which is free. He gives me the code for the lockbox - this time there is a key in there - and offers me a teabag from his selection to take with me.

I can imagine Horatio living in this room.

Without the modern trappings, of course (unless we are talking about a version which takes place outside of a specific time period, in which case…). It’s small but it’s big enough to live in, with a table and chairs, a sofa, a bed and a kitchen all in one room. There is a little trunk I could imagine him keeping books in. It’s a modest place, but he’d say he couldn’t want for anything more.

(ignore my mess)

The streets do look like how I’d imagine them to look.

I can imagine Hamlet and Horatio here so clearly.

From the apartment, you can hear the church clock. It chimes every hour.

#wittenberg #hamlet #horatio #hamlet/horatio #hamlet x horatio #tragic danish boyfriends #but really more about my travel stress

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metalmonki · 1 year ago

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Supernatural, Hunting, Living and Love (Revisited) Part 2

Dean Winchester x fem!reader

4.5k word count

Summary After completely ignoring Deans warning you find yourself reunited with the Winchesters after a perplexing case brings them back down under.

fluff, idiots in love, friends to lovers

Warnings mention and description of death

Original / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

It's been a year since I met the Winchesters. I tried to return to my old life, but the knowledge that there were creatures out there that could kill me at any moment made it impossible to concentrate. So, I decided to hit the road. I packed my most important belongings into my car and left everything else at my mom's. I dropped out of university and began searching for other hunters. The Winchesters didn’t leave me a how-to guide on hunting monsters, so I had to figure it out on my own. I traveled far and wide, leaving messages for hunters wherever I could—monster books in libraries, notice boards, online chat rooms, you name it. After two months of relentless searching, I was finally contacted by a guy named Johnny. Johnny owned a roadhouse near Broken Hill, one of the few hubs for hunters. He gave me a list of known hunters' hubs, a list of essential tools, and a job to get me started. "An easy find and burn," he said. He advised me to call him for jobs for now and assured me that I would gradually learn how to find my own hunts. And that's how I ended up on the job I'm working today.

I had driven through the night to get back to Sydney, to the suburb of Blacktown where my story began. It was the first time I'd been back since everything that happened with the boys. This time, a similar case had brought me back: a ghost causing accidents at the local pool, leading to 11 deaths so far. Something needed to be done soon. The latest incident occurred just a week before. A paraplegic kid had seemingly stood up from her wheelchair, climbed onto a diving board, and dove headfirst onto the cement below. The ghost was escalating its attacks, putting this case at the top of my list. Before tackling the case, though, I needed to rest. I decided to book into a hotel, take a hot shower, eat, and sleep. I had only enough money for one night, so I found a cheap hotel close to the pool with vacancies and pulled in. As I parked and hopped out of my car, a certain vehicle caught my eye. Everything else was quickly forgotten as I ran to the room the car was parked in front of. I stopped to catch my breath before knocking on the door.

"Well, well, look who we have here," Dean said, crossing his arms with a smirk as he opened the door.

"Hey, Dean," I smiled.

"Y/N, is that you?" Sam asked, appearing behind Dean.

"In the flesh," I replied. "What brings you two back to town?"

"We're working this case," Dean explained. "A friend of ours called after getting a tip from a hunter here—some ghost killing a bunch of people at a pool."

"What a coincidence. I'm working that case too. It's been on my radar for the last three months, but it's really ramped up in the last month, so I figured I should probably get my ass back here and take care of it."

"I thought I told you to stay away from all this," Dean suddenly snapped, his hands balling into fists at his sides.

"I tried, Dean. I really did. But I couldn't shake it. I was second-guessing everything and everyone, and I felt like I needed to do this to feel safe," I said, recoiling at his words.

"I told you there were other people like us doing this job so you could be safe. Trust me, this isn't the life you want."

"You packed up and went back to the States. You left me here where there are barely any hunters. What did you expect me to do?" I snapped back.

"I expected you to listen to me!" Dean yelled, jabbing a finger toward the ground.

I flinched away from Dean, and he immediately noticed. The regret on his face was clear. He tried reaching out to touch my arm, but I moved back. Sighing, he stepped aside, allowing me into the room. Sam motioned for me to come over to the sole table where he was working on his laptop. Dean, meanwhile, moved to sit on his bed on the opposite side of the room. Sam ran me through everything they had found so far. He mentioned a friend of theirs named Bobby, who had been contacted by a local hunter overwhelmed by the case. It was something I had noticed too, and it had only motivated me more to become a hunter. Over the past year, I had been taking on the harder cases that other hunters struggled with. I had made contacts at all the hunters’ roadhouses in Australia and had hardly had a day to myself since. I told Sam about Johnny, a name he instantly recognized. Apparently, Johnny had been the one to call Bobby, requesting the boys' help after many other hunters had come up short.

"What have you found so far?" I asked Sam.

"Well, the earliest accident recorded at the pool was two months after it opened," Sam replied.

"I found that too during my initial research. She was running, slipped on the wet floor, and got impaled on a sign pole. Not a nice way to go, but it doesn't seem like something to create a vengeful spirit," I said.

"My thoughts exactly," Sam sighed. "But I can't find anything about the place being built on a burial ground or sacred site or anything."

"So, what you're saying is there's no reason for these deaths to be ramping up at this joint?" Dean finally joined the conversation.

"Well, none we can find," I said. "This is why I've avoided the case for so long. Every time I've looked into it, I haven't been able to find a reason. Nothing I know of could be causing this, nothing Johnny knows of could be causing this. Maybe Bobby might know something?"

"I'll call him," Sam sighed.

Sam grabbed his phone and left the room. I looked at Dean in confusion. We were working this case together, so why would Sam leave? Dean mumbled something about Sam thinking best when he was walking around. I just shrugged and stayed at the table, waiting for Sam to come back. Dean and I fell into an uncomfortable silence. I knew he wasn't happy with me being here and giving everything up to become a hunter, but I didn’t see any other choice. I understood the dangers; I knew a hunter's life was often short. But if it meant making a difference while I was still here, then so be it. Dean needed to understand this.

"Dean..."

"Save it. I know I won't be able to change your mind, but I'll be damned if I'm going to let you leave my side," Dean said, looking over at me. "I wanted to save you from this life. I wanted you to walk away and never look back. I don't want you to end up broken like me."

"It's not like I have anything to lose. My father abandoned me, my mother and I barely talk, and I don’t exactly have any other family. Just friends, and as far as they know, I came into a small fortune and I'm off traveling the world," I sighed.

"Sounds like every hunter origin story I've heard before," Dean chuckled coldly.

"Why? What's your story?" I asked.

"Mum died, Dad abandoned us, then he died. I'm one of the lucky ones, though, because I got Sammy. And I guess now I have your dumbass to look out for too," Dean smiled at me.

"You make that sound like a bad thing," I laughed.

"Oh, it is. You're a pain in my ass," Dean laughed too.

"Who, me? Nah, I'm delightful."

Sam walked back into the room, greeted by the sight of Dean and me laughing our asses off, a stark contrast to how he had left us. He looked between us before awkwardly starting to explain that Bobby would investigate the situation, contact some other hunters in the area, and call Sam back if he found anything. Until then, Dean decided it would be best if we grabbed some food and called it a night. Dean left Sam and me to clean up the table while he went to get what he called the world’s smallest McDonald’s burgers. Sam and I just shook our heads at him and continued to tidy up. We talked about what the guys had been up to since they were last here and everything I had done. Sam was quite impressed at how quickly I had learned to spot signs of the supernatural and my ability to research and handle problems. It turned out they had heard from Bobby about a badass new hunter on the scene out here, but they had no clue it was me. It didn’t take us long to clean off the table, and soon Dean returned with the food. He dumped the bags on the table and began tossing burgers at each of us, cursing when he reached for the fries and found they had all fallen out in the bag. Sam and I shook our heads at Dean and started on our burgers while he fixed the fries. After we had eaten, we all agreed to get some sleep while waiting for Bobby to get back to us. Sam went off to shower first while Dean kicked off his shoes and flopped onto the bed. I, on the other hand, moved toward the door, planning to book my room for the night.

"Where are you staying?" Dean suddenly asked, stopping me in my tracks.

"Going to book a room for tonight, then probably sleep in my car until this is over. Why?" I turned back towards Dean.

"You can't be serious."

"Well, normally I'd loo or a free campground, but we're in the middle of a city. Luckily, I recently found this really cool inflatable bed thing. You move the seats forward, put it in the back seat, and it acts like a real bed. It's actually pretty comfortable," I rambled.

"Like hell you're sleeping in your car. Take my bed, and I'll take the couch," Dean grumbled, getting up from his bed. "Besides, it saves you the money you'd spend on a room for a single night."

"Dean, I can't kick you to the lounge again," I sighed.

"Nonsense. Hunters need a safe place to sleep."

"We don’t exactly get paid, Dean. I do odd jobs in the towns I’m in between or sometimes even during hunts, just to get enough to eat and to put fuel in my car. I can’t afford a hotel room."

"And that’s where credit card scams come in," Dean smirked.

"How? I mean, you’d need fake IDs and birth certificates, not to mention the limits. Eventually, they’d cut the card off."

"Bobby hooks us up with a whole host of fake IDs—cops, FBI, CIA, you name it. The trick with credit cards is to get the card with the highest limit. For instance, a card with a $10,000 limit before repayments are needed. Use it for the case, and before you get out of dodge, withdraw the remaining amount. That way, when they come looking for Mr. Hector Rodriguez, it looks like he never left town."

"Jesus, Dean, that’s insane."

"That’s the life," Dean shrugged, making himself comfy on the lounge.

I took off my shoes and made myself comfortable on the bed while waiting for Sam to finish with the shower. I had planned to use the bathroom to change, but I must have been more tired than I realized because I nodded off. I woke up the next morning to an empty room and noticed that Dean’s Impala was gone too. They must have heard back from Bobby and headed off to chase a lead. It kind of sucked that they didn’t wake me up first, but there was nothing I could do about it now. I grabbed the remote and turned on the TV, mostly for background noise, before heading to my car to grab a change of clothes. With clothes in hand, I went to the bathroom for a shower. I always found that the shower was the best place to organize my day. I turned the water on, cranking up the heat until it was almost unbearable. As the shower screen fogged up, I began to write out my plan for the day. First, I needed to find some breakfast, then I needed to locate the guys. The problem was, I didn’t have either of their numbers and wasn’t keen on driving aimlessly around the city to find them. After washing up, I begrudgingly turned off the water. As I reached for a towel, I was horrified to realize there were only two towels in the bathroom. I rummaged through the room but found no additional towels. I returned to the bathroom, eyeing the two towels on the rack. At this point, I was almost dry, so I grabbed the obviously unused towel and quickly dried myself off, hanging the towel back as neatly as possible when I was done. Once I was dressed and dry, I grabbed my phone and keys before heading out to my car. I was honestly surprised that Dean had managed to pick out which car was his and which was mine. The engine roared to life as I settled into the driver's seat. I drove to McDonald's to grab a breakfast deal. After I got my food, I figured I might as well continue investigating the case on my own. As I waited in the drive-through, I pulled out my phone to continue my research. It was then that I noticed a text message from Dean, which caught me off guard since I hadn’t saved his number.

Hey sleeping beauty, when you get this, give me a call. If I don’t answer, I put Sammy’s number in your phone too.

I chuckled to myself before dialing the number. After a few rings, Dean picked up.

"Hey, enjoy your sleep?" Dean laughed.

"It was great, thank you. Your bed is very comfy."

"At least someone’s enjoying my bed," Dean chuckled.

"Yeah, you should really try it sometime. It's so comfy and warm, it would put you straight to sleep," I taunted.

"Pfft, who needs an awesome bed when they have a perfect lounge to sleep on?"

"Where are you anyway?" I laughed on the phone.

"About to head to the pool," Dean sighed. "We’ve exhausted the library. They have nothing on the pool that we didn’t already know, so the only place left is the pool."

"Have fun with that. I’m just getting breakfast. Oh, and here it comes!" I squealed, winding down the window.

"Yeah, yeah, stuff your face then get your ass over here," Dean chuckled, hanging up.

I took my food with a thank you before pulling into the parking lot. After parking my car, I started on my breakfast. It didn’t take me long to finish, and I tossed my rubbish into a nearby bin before heading to the pool. When I arrived, I parked towards the back of the lot and went inside. It annoyed me more than it should have that I had to pay to enter the pool, even though I had no intention of swimming. It felt weird paying just to watch, but being on my own, it seemed the only option. I walked down the ramp into the main pool area, which featured a wave pool, a splash pool, and two 25-meter pools. It wasn’t overly busy, so it didn’t take more than a quick glance to spot Sam and Dean. It also helped that they were the only people in the building in suits. They were standing near the wave pool controls, talking to a lifeguard. As I started making my way towards them, I was suddenly halted by the sound of a giggle. It was a giggle I would recognize anywhere, sending an ice-cold shiver down my spine. I almost turned around and fled back to my car, intending to wait for Sam and Dean to finish. The only thing that stopped me was Dean spotting me and giving me a wink, which caused the lifeguard to look over her shoulder towards me. I squared my shoulders, held my head high, and walked over to them. Upon reaching them, however, my mouth started spilling out words before my brain could catch up.

"Hey, babe," I said, leaning against Dean's side. "I thought I’d come for a swim while you take care of things, but I don’t have any swimwear." I winced inwardly at the cringe-worthy line.

"Oh, hi Rachel! Haven’t seen you since graduation. Still lifeguarding, I see?" I greeted, trying to mask my awkwardness.

"Y/N, yes, I am. It pays quite well. How did you end up with such a handsome man?" Rachel asked, crossing her arms and giving me a disapproving look.

"Well, as you probably heard, I’ve been traveling the world, and during a trip through America, I found this handsome man," I said, smiling up at Dean.

"Lucky you," Rachel scoffed.

"Yeah, lucky me," I replied, still smiling at Dean.

"Anyway, baby, here’s my card. Go get yourself some swimwear and have a good time," Dean said, handing me a card.

"Thank you," I said, taking the card and giving Dean a quick peck on the cheek before darting off.

As I was leaving, I heard Dean say, "Now, if you don’t mind, we’d like to ask all the staff about the incident."

I went to the main counter and bought a swimsuit—one of the things I had left behind when I packed up and left, thinking I’d never use it again. With the swimsuit in hand, I headed back to find Sam and Dean to return Dean's card, thank him for his help, and apologize for putting him on the spot. As I wandered back into the main pool area, I quickly spotted Dean standing at the edge of the splash pool, talking to a lifeguard. Just as I was about to approach him, a hand suddenly came down on my shoulder. I jumped and spun around, ready to punch whoever had touched me.

"Wow, easy there," Sam chuckled.

"Sam, why would you do that?" I slapped him on the chest.

"I didn’t mean to scare you. Just figured I should fill you in before you blow our cover story any further."

"Yeah, sorry about that," I muttered, dropping my head.

"Oh, it’s fine. No harm done," Sam smiled. "Anyway, we were researching the deaths this morning, and one of the victims was a young girl on holiday from America. So Dean and I decided to come in and ask some questions, posing as representatives from the American Embassy investigating on behalf of the parents."

"That’s actually pretty smart. I’ll go change into these swimmers and stay out of your way. Also, can you give Dean back his card?" I handed it to Sam. "I feel kinda bad for taking it."

"Well, it’s not our money anyway, so nothing to feel bad about," Sam smirked.

I laughed at Sam's comment and walked away with a wave towards the female changing room. Only two other people were in the changing room when I walked in—two young girls, probably no older than 18. It seemed they had just finished their swim and were getting ready to shower and change. I ducked into an empty changing booth on the opposite side of the room from them. They were giggling and whispering between themselves as I walked by. If only they knew what was happening here, what was happening in the world. I quickly slipped into the swimsuit—no easy feat when both you and the suit are as dry as the Sahara Desert. Just as I bundled my clothes in my arms and was about to open the door, the room was suddenly filled with a blood-curdling scream. I dropped my clothes and threw open the door. One of the girls from earlier was now pressed up against the wall on the opposite side of the room, while the other lay motionless on the floor.

I ran over to the girl on the floor and dropped down by her side, assessing her for any signs of life. She was gone; her neck was clearly broken. Standing up, I walked over to the other girl as more people began pushing their way into the bathroom. Sam and Dean were among them. Seeing the scene, they began pushing people back and asking for someone to call emergency services. I took the other girl into my arms, shielding her face from the horrific sight and encouraging her to look away. I nodded to Sam and Dean, knowing they would need to leave the building quickly but quietly while I stayed behind to answer questions. I tried to ask the girl what had happened, but all I could get was the word "why," spoken in a whisper between sobs. I just held her, rubbing circles into her back while waiting for help to arrive.

It felt like forever, but it was probably no more than 15 minutes before the police and ambulance arrived. The police stood back, allowing the paramedics to do their work. Once the paramedics confirmed there was nothing they could do for the girl on the floor, they turned their attention to her friend. They checked her over and then escorted her to a waiting ambulance. The police followed, making sure I stayed put in the room. Returning to where I had discarded my clothes, I gathered them up and sat on the bench running the length of the room. Holding my clothes to my chest, I suddenly felt naked in the now-empty room. It wasn’t the first time I had seen a dead body, and living the life I chose, I knew it wouldn’t be the last. But that didn’t make it any less jarring. The absolute stillness of her body, the lack of the normal rise and fall of her chest, the absence of any movement, the fading pink hue of her skin—it was all so stark, so sudden. I closed my eyes and prayed she went quickly.

The quiet of the room was soon broken by the arrival of crime scene techs and coroners. They completely ignored my presence and went about their tasks, examining the deceased girl and the room. The only interaction I had was with a woman who came over and asked for my clothes. Confused, I asked why, since they hadn't been near the girl. She insisted it was needed just in case and that they would get them back to me as soon as possible. Reluctantly, I handed over my clothes and filled out the paperwork she provided. With no other address to use, I gave her my mother's address for the return of my clothes.

I watched as the coroner bagged the girl's body and removed it from the room while the techs continued to take pictures and discuss their theories about what had happened. Eventually, after what must have been 30 minutes, the police returned to the room to speak with me. They asked a flurry of questions that blurred together: Did you know the victim? No. Did you see what happened? No. Do you know Samantha? Was that the other girl? No. What were you doing here? Changing to swim. On and on, question after question. They questioned me for over an hour. It felt like a waste of their time, as I had nothing to offer—they were asking a witness who hadn’t witnessed anything. Before they let me go, I asked what Samantha had said about the incident. They gave me the usual response: they couldn’t divulge much but assured me that the investigation would reveal the truth.

I thanked the officers and left the room. I fell into a sort of autopilot. Before I knew it, I was out of the pool, in my car, and back at the hotel, with no recollection of the drive. I parked next to Dean’s Impala. As soon as I shut off the engine, I began to shake uncontrollably. I took a few shaky breaths, gripping the steering wheel tightly. I climbed out of the car and walked to the room door, knocking and waiting for someone to answer. When the door finally opened, it was Dean standing there.

“They took my clothes,” was all I managed to say before the weight of the day hit me. In the year I had been working cases, I had never seen a dead body or witnessed someone die. I had only read about it, keeping a safe distance from the true horrors. The only dead body I had seen before this was my grandmother’s, and I had hoped she would be the only person I would have to see die in my lifetime. Today’s events had dredged up all those memories and emotions I had tried so hard to bury.

As I broke down, Dean pulled me into the room and shut the door. He wrapped his arms around me, offering a safe, warm refuge where I could finally let my emotions flow.

#supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #dean x reader #supernatural x you #supernatural x reader #castiel #castiel x reader #Sam Winchester x reader #Sam x reader

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kintrash413 · 2 years ago

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my father died when I was young, and his father was too senile to give advice, so when it came to be my turn taking care of the snail I had little idea how.

at first, I tried just putting it under a glass bottle. it was immortal, so it wouldn't die of starvation, so so long as I put it high enough that the glass wouldn't get knocked over, it should be fine.

this idea lasted a matter of hours before I felt bad. what if I were immortal, and some being beyond my comprehension decided to let me starve in a small room?

so I went over to petstop and bought a glass snail terrarium of sorts. it was empty now, but I also bought lots of accessories that I thought an immortal snail might like.

when I parked in front of my house, I realized the front door was slightly ajar. I knew for a fact that I had closed it when I left, just as I knew in this gated community a burglary was unlikely.

slowly, I turned around, and my heart dropped to the pit of my stomach.

around my car tires, were shattered pieces of glass and shell.

I immediately backed up the car a few inches and ran back outside, already hyperventilating and panicking before I even saw the sorry state of my immortal pet.

its shell was gone, except for some sharp pieces that had stuck to its flesh. the snail itself still twitched, alive of course, but it was flat and bleeding.

I grabbed it and cried and ran back inside.

several youtube tutorials and wikihow articles later, I had the broken bits of shell extracted and the snail was already looking better. i placed it in the terrarium i bought, filling it with food laced with medicine.

I mustve stared at the snail, now more of a slug, for hours until finally it slithered forth and ate some of the food. I breathed a great sigh of relief.

"we're not off to a good start are we buddy?"

I 3D-printed a few shell designs I found online, and placed them all in its cage, waiting intently until it chose one. the rest I stored in case of another incident.

the next few months passed without issue. the snail healed and ate well.

I didn't work nor have much in the way of friends, so most of my hours were spent trying to keep the snail entertained. reading to it, watching TV with it, sometimes offering it food I cooked without worrying if such food was healthy. if it was going to live forever, it at least deserved delicious food.

the snail tried to escape a lot during those first few months. I learned quickly that putting the top back on was absolutely imperative.

a full year after my grandfather died I decided I was done grieving, and wanted to move from his house.

I sold the house for cheap- money was no objective after all- and moved several states over. the house I'd picked out had a decent few acres of land and was well isolated, surrounded by woods as it were.

I packed everything I wanted to keep. the back seat of my car was filled with clothes, stuffed animals, and blankets. the trunk held an air mattress and all of my carefully bubble-wrapped electronics.

food sat underneath the passengers seat, and books were stacked on top of the seat. on top of the books, i kept the snail's cage, high enough so it could see out the window. when immortal, did one still care to see such sights?

we spent a few days on the road, running out of food faster than I thought and surviving off of fast food.

I spent a lot of time thinking about immortality those few days. did the snail care when I offered it the best morsels of food if itd surely already eaten everything Earth had to offer? I knew my family history involved a lot of travelling, so did it even care when we passed through empty fields or big cities? had it seen it all already?

we slept in my car most of the time, I'd read aloud before passing out or just talk about any thought on my mind. but whenever I did find a hotel to stay in, I made sure to bring the snail with me.

I enjoyed snipping off bits of cloth and foam from pillows and sewing them together to make a snail-sized bed. the snail seemed to like it. did the immortal even need to sleep?

"we're home," I announced, excited and exhausted.

that first night, all I unpacked was my air mattress, a blanket, and the snails cage. we slept in the foyer, lacking the energy to even explore the house.

the next few weeks were unpacking and getting services in order. connecting the internet, changing my Amazon address, setting up a twice weekly maid service.

within a single month I'd unpacked everything, which honestly wasn't much. I still needed to go furniture shopping, but that could wait. today, was the real reason I wanted to move to the wood.

I opened the snails cage and stuck my hand inside. "cmon buddy, were going on an adventure."

once we were outside and covered by trees, I placed the snail on the grass and let it explore. I watched it for hours until it got dark and wondered if it was happy.

the first time the immortal man visited me, was a year after I'd moved in. I'd gotten around to purchasing some basic furniture, and the snail was rarely in his cage anymore. today, he was sat on my shoulder while I was sat on a beanbag and we were both watching TV.

the knock at the door couldn't have been anyone else.

unsure of the man's feelings on uncaged pets, I put the snail back in his terrarium for the moment while I opened the door.

"Hello, Booker," he greeted. he called everyone in my family by the same name, despite the fact that Booker hadn't been our last name in decades. "I noticed your card was only a few thousand short of running out." he then handed me a new card, which I took gingerly.

"do you... uh, wanna see the snail?"

"is it sufficiently caged?"

"yes?"

"then yes."

he admired the snail's cage for some time. "and youre certain the snail can't escape?"

I nodded, confident in this. "yeah, it hasn't escaped yet. plus the whole house is free of cracks or anything so even if it did..."

the man was nodding approvingly. finally, he stood back to his full height and met my eye. "you know, Booker, you are currently the last in your family. I do suggest you start cultivating a new one soon."

"oh- yeah, I guess..."

"it wasn't a suggestion." and then he left.

I slowly locked the door behind him, let the snail out again where it crawled on my arm, and downloaded a few dating apps.

getting dates was easy, having money made that part trivial. the main problem was when I brought them home and tried to express the importance of my pet snail. at that point, I was usually ghosted. and if not, they'd definitely leave when I tried to bring up the concept of immortality, no matter how casual I tried to make it.

it took a full decade before I met someone who took me seriously.

her name was Freya, and she called herself a witch. it seemed obvious, in hindsight, that I shouldve been looking in witch circles.

it's worth noting that I never shared much interest in romance or sex. even friends seemed difficult when my mind was always so occupied with the infinite. Freya was the first person who not only took the snail seriously, but also seemed to share my sentiments.

whenever she came over shed usually read in a separate room, and we'd take turns cooking meals. I'd never tell her, but I thought myself the better cook.

the next time the man came to my door Freya and her child had moved in. the child was being taught to be respectful of the snail. it seemed a miracle, but Freya had believed me about its immortality.

again, he brought me a new card, and again he asked to see the snail. he seemed pleased to see it still in its cage.

"hey, um..." I began awkwardly. to ask the man for something felt wrong, but Freya's child, Angel, had been pestering me about this. "does the snail have a... name?"

the man cracked a smile at that. "you wish to know this snail's history? tch, a rarity among Bookers."

the next day, a large dusty journal had been sent to my front door. Me, Freya, Angel, and the snail sat around the table and began to read it, for it was sent by the immortal man.

'hi. some time ago a man asked if I could care for his immortal pet snail in exchange for keeping me and my family wealthy. I thought he was crazy at the time but he's been paying up and it's been a few decades now so... I thought I'd write about the snail a bit.'

the snail, it seems, had been around since at least the 15th century. it went by many names, many pronouns, and been all over the world. a few different people had wrote in the journal, usually centuries apart.

"you should add something," Freya suggested.

I hesitate, looking at the snail. even though I knew, now, many of the names it had gone by... it seemed rude to give any immortal a name at all.

I took a deep breath, grabbed my pen, and started writing.

'my father died when I was young, and his father was too senile to give advice, so when it came to be my turn taking care of the snail I had little idea how...

Due to a pact between your family and an immortal businessman, the man keeps your family wealthy throughout the generations in exchange of safeguarding his immortal pet snail from escaping. You have just inherited the sole responsibility of being its guardian for the rest of your life.

#my writing #mine #writing #short story #kinda #tumblr exclusive

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airrport-transfer · 7 days ago

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dummyflight101 · 7 days ago

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thegrandsona · 11 days ago

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How to Stay in Deoghar on a Budget as a Solo Traveller

Planning a perfect budget trip is an art. In Jharkhand, India, the charming town of Deoghar, renowned as the "Abode of Gods," welcomes thousands of pilgrims and tourists each year.

Deoghar is a pleasant and vibrant location, regardless of whether you are drawn to it by its bustling culture, beautiful scenery, or spiritual charm. And, it is possible to tour this spiritual town without breaking the bank if you want to make this trip budget-friendly and are a solo traveler.

At Grand Sona, a luxury hotel in Deoghar, you can get some of the best affordable Deoghar tour packages besides a cozy and convenient stay in Deoghar. Here are some tips for making the most of your trip without going over your spending limit.

Accommodation: Find Budget-Friendly Stays

Luxury hotels, reasonably priced lodges, and dharamshalas (pilgrim guesthouses) are just a few of the accommodation options available in Deoghar. If you're traveling alone, you can choose budget-friendly options like:

Dharamshalas & Ashrams: A lot of the temples in Deoghar provide travellers with free or inexpensive lodging. For instance, there are a number of dharamshalas in and around the Baba Baidyanath Temple region that provide simple, decent but tidy accommodations.

Budget Hotels, Guesthouse, and Hostels: These are available close to Williams Town Road and Tower Chowk in Deoghar, with rates ranging from ₹700 to above per night. To get fantastic bargains, go online for hostels or low-cost accommodations in Deoghar and try to book early.

Homestays: Another best way to save money on the trip is by booking a decent homestay in Deoghar. Opt for homestays if you’re looking for a cozy and authentic experience and many locals rent rooms for as low as ₹700-800 per night.

Wise to book your accommodation early during peak pilgrimage seasons (like Shravan Mela) to avoid price increases.

Transportation: Affordably Get Around

Transportation costs here are minimal. Here's how you as a solo traveler in Deoghar can minimize transportation expenses:

Walking: The majority of the sites, including Trikut Parvat, Nandan Pahar, and the Baba Baidyanath Temple, are accessible on foot from the town centre. However, it depends on the site's distance from your hotel. Therefore, choosing a privileged location hotel in Deoghar is beneficial.

Shared Autos: For a more affordable way to get around the town of Deoghar as a solo traveler, consider using shared auto-rickshaws. You will get this convenience almost everywhere in town.

Public buses: Jharkhand's local buses are an affordable option if you simply want to go to neighboring locations like Basukinath or Tapovan. Make sure to know the set schedule of public transport for convenience.

Food: Enjoy Budget-Friendly Local Delights

In Deoghar, eating local cuisine costs minimal. The town has tasty and reasonably priced options that you should try, whether you’re on a budget travel or not.

Street Food: Enjoy delectable regional cuisines like kachori-sabzi, samosas, litti choka, peda, noddles, chhole bhature, and jalebis at the roadside stalls near Tower Chowk. You may have a hearty breakfast for as little as ₹50 or more and even within ₹30.

Budget Dining Options: Seek out vegetarian thali dishes at nearby eateries in Deoghar on your solo trip, which provide endless portions for ₹100 to ₹150.

Prasad: Don't forget to take advantage of the temple's prasad giving on your Deoghar solo trip. It is often distributed for free or at a very low cost and has a unique regional taste in Deoghar.

Bring a reusable bottle and fill it up at safe drinking water stations instead of buying bottled water.

Sightseeing: Take Advantage of Free or Cheap Exploration

Several tourist attractions in Deoghar are either free or require small ticket prices:

All pilgrims are admitted free of charge to the Baba Baidyanath Dham in Deoghar. Visiting the temple at off-peak hours ensures a calm experience, one of the twelve jyotirlingas.

The entrance to Nandan Pahar, a hilltop park and shrine, is only ₹10 for adults and ₹5 for children. A beautiful location with trekking options and a spiritual atmosphere, Tapovan Hills and Kunds is ideal for a free-day excursion.

In Satsang Ashram, take a free look at this spiritual retreat. No costly guides are needed for activities like trekking at Trikuta Parvat or visiting Naulakha Mandir. As a solo traveler, discover and enjoy the peace, adventure, and beauty of nature, ideal for self-rejuvenation and spiritual richness.

Shopping and Souvenirs: Shop Smart in Deoghar

Handicrafts and spiritual mementos abound in Deoghar's marketplaces. When traveling alone to Deoghar use these cost-effective suggestions:

For rudraksha malas, brass idols, and prayer beads, visit the nearby local markets. To get the most cost-effective prices, don’t forget to bargain with store owners. Look for tiny vendors managed or run by locals instead of expensive stores available in Deoghar.

Plan for Off-Season Travels

Yes, you can save your budget by planning an off-season Deoghar travel plan. During the Shravan Mela (July–August), Deoghar has a spike in tourists, which may result in higher lodging and transportation costs. You may visit the town at a significantly reduced cost and with fewer tourists if you go between September, December, April, May, and June.

Going to Deoghar alone on a tight budget is not only easy but also quite fulfilling. This little spiritual location is perfect for a quiet yet economical vacation because of its reasonably priced lodging, inexpensive transportation, and free or budget outdoor activities. Be sure to keep documents and hotel receipts (if you pre-book it), important contact numbers, a first-aid kit, snacks, etc. to keep your trip safer and more effective. Connect with a reliable hotel in Deoghar for a complete travel plan. Reach out today.

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cocktail09 · 17 days ago

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