#in the song the singers are stuck at sea due to no wind and they have nothing left to drink | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tackyink · 4 years ago

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Still holding onto the hope of running out of steam soon so I can work on other fics. In any case, this has a title now. It’s Degrees of Separation.

I hate this chapter solely because in my mind it was supposed to be one, then it got long and turned into two awkward chapters, and by splitting them I was left with this thing in which nothing happens. Why would you want to read this? I don’t know. I don’t know if I want to read it, even though I did. Repeatedly. To edit out all the typos I’m sure I’ve left in. I’m going to put a Golden Sun stream on the background, play Animal Crossing and drown my frustration in Coca Cola. It’s been a long week.

One last detour before Sabaody. Alex is bored, the Heart Pirates reenter the scene, and Law has an “if it isn’t the consequences of my own actions” moment.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

— — — — — — — —

Chapter 3

There was a storm.

Alex didn’t know if it was related to the Aqua Laguna that the ship had set out to avoid or it was simply one of the Grand Line’s meteorological whims, but two days after departure, the noon sky went so dark it was like a moonless night had come down early, the winds picked up, and the waves started to beat against the ship’s hull in an uneven rhythm.

The crew was all over the place, trying to steer the ship and reef the sails as they ushered the passengers inside to keep them from falling overboard. Alex had been caught in bad weather travelling before, but never to this extent. She had a hard time thinking of anything scarier than being at the mercy of a windy sea. Nowhere to run, nothing to do except wait and pray that the waters would take pity on you and let you live another day. Alex wasn’t the praying sort, so while she waited below deck with a group of people as scared as she was, if not more, she couldn’t even do that.

The nervous chatter of the passengers and the parents’ attempts to console their children were muffled by the deafening sounds of the wind, the waves, the creaking wood, and the crew’s rushed footsteps on the deck.

Alex stood the entire time in front of a porthole in the dining hall where they had gathered. It helped with the seasickness from the violent rocking of ship, it was better than to look at the other people, and, ironically, storms were her favorite kind of weather. She wondered what would be worse if they sunk, getting caught on deck and risking being swallowed by the ocean, or waiting for the insides of the ship to become a water tomb. For a long time, or at least it seemed like it, that was the main thought that repeated in her mind, until the possibility of dying felt so remote that she wasn’t even registering. Like when you picked a word and turned it around in your mouth and mind so many times that it lost all meaning. Of course she couldn’t die there. She had never done so before, so why start now?

It was absurd, but it helped. And it turned out to be right, too.

After a while, the storm subsided, and an hour later, the crew let them out on deck again. The ship wasn’t intact, but they hadn’t lost anybody, and that was as much as one could ask for when dealing with an angry sea.

In the end, there was only one major inconvenience: due to the damage, the ship had to change its course in order to dock somewhere safe to undergo repairs.

❦

Her hair had gotten longer to the point of annoyance. The tips brushed her shoulders already; long enough to get in her face whenever it wanted, but too short to tie it in a decent ponytail. Sure, she could have done it anyway, but she was vain and would have rather dealt with the hassle than solve the problem in an aesthetically suboptimal way.

The sunspots on the left side of her face were getting more noticeable, as were the dark circles under her eyes and the shy wrinkles that were attempting to come out. For someone who could spend so much time picking her appearance apart in front of a mirror, she didn’t look particularly healthy or well put together. She supposed that was part of the appeal, in a masochistic way: to find as many faults as she could, and invent some if needed.

Applying concealer under her eyes and red lipstick just for the sake of having some color on her face, she thought she needed to find herself a headband and a healthier pastime posthaste. Porta Bella was a quaint town, but there wasn’t much in the way of entertainment, and she’d had only her thoughts for company for too long.

She had been stuck there for two weeks. After narrowly avoiding disaster, the ship had been moored in the harbor for several days, and by the time it was fit enough to sail, the captain decided to go back to Water 7 to have proper repairs done. The passengers had been given the choice to remain in Porta Bella and find another ship, or to return to Water 7 with the crew. Going back wasn’t an option for Alex when Sabaody was so close that it felt like she could have seen it if she climbed on a tall tree, she didn’t trust a half-baked repair job to keep her safe, and, most importantly, someone had tried to kill Iceburg and Enies Lobby had kind of blown up in the following days of her departure from Water 7.

She didn’t want to think that the tracksuit shipwright had something to do with it, but the conspiracy theorist in her told her that it was totally his fault. That nose? Could totally be used as a murder weapon and nobody would be none the wiser.

The few passengers aside from Alex who had decided to stay in Porta Bella were already gone, leaving the inn she was staying at delightfully empty, but also making her wonder if she had messed up by not taking the first random ship that would let her sail away from there.

The island was small, so much so that Porta Bella was the only town in it, and much of it was empty. For many years there had been a migratory tendency pushing young people from nearby islands to the Sabaody Archipelago, and this one seemed to have fallen victim to it, too. The moderately long recording time of the Log Pose didn’t play in its favor, either. Five days and a half was a long time to wait when the Red Line was only a couple of days away, so not many ships stopped there. An abandoned watchtower in the outskirts of town was the only other notable location.

She left her inn room that morning, picking up a tea to go, and hoping that a good slap of early morning breeze in the face would wake her up.

Every day since she arrived, she went to the port to look for any newly arrived ships and talk to the sailors. Every time, if there was a new one at all, she was told that there were reports of increased slaver activity in those waters, and that they were headed anywhere but the Sabaody Archipelago until Marine HQ got its shit together and stopped the kidnapping crews sailing rampant. Given that the Marines must have been scrambling to recover from the loss of Enies Lobby, nobody thought they were going to get on the case anytime soon.

These series of unfortunate coincidences didn’t surprise her. Her life was often comprised of really small strokes of bad luck that were nothing more than inconvenience on their own, but that added up to really grate on her nerves. This was business as usual, so she just had to keep trying. The temporary finish line was only a stone’s throw away.

Not that human trafficking stopped at any point of the year, but she hadn’t taken into account the seasonal opening of the archipelago’s biggest auction. Thinking that not even the schedule of the Human Auctioning House had changed during her time away gave her a twisted sense of familiarity. That son of a bitch kept finding novel ways to fuck her over without even being aware of her existence. It had to be a gift, for sure.

As she walked to the half empty docks, she hoped that that was the day she lucked out. She had already decided that, if she couldn’t find a direct ship to Sabaody in the following three days, she’d take the roundabout way and sail to a bigger island with, hopefully, a wider variety of ships. She would go completely broke in the process (and there she found the thing that was as terrifying as being caught in a storm at open sea), but one had to crack eggs to make an omelette.

Ten minutes and an empty cup of tea into her stroll, she stopped in front the single newly arrived ship and thought that maybe she hadn’t lucked out, but that sure as hell life was full of weird coincidences. Because there were few submarines sailing the Grand Line, even fewer painted yellow, and she guessed that only one with that particular Jolly Roger plastered on it. Her wish of seeing it up close had been granted when she least expected it, and it didn’t disappoint. It had a curious design, half ship and half submarine. A shipmarine.

Feeling revitalized by the pun, she craned her neck and got on her tiptoes to accomplish nothing at all. She couldn’t see any of the pirates on the deck, at least from where she was standing, and what else was she supposed to do, walk closer to find a friendly face and say hi like a functioning human being would? Yeah, no. She simply stood there and stared like a creep.

The paint job of the thing was hypnotic, and she didn’t mean it as a compliment. It looked like the idea of a man who thought the peak of design was making his vehicle look like a wasp with a decal of the word ‘DEATH’ instead of stripes to look extra edgy. And okay, they were pirates, pirates killed people, it was something that came with the job – but plastering it over the ship like that was a little heavy handed, and she didn’t have any doubts as to which guy with matching tattoos had come up with those brilliant design choices. Come to think of it, wasn’t there a song about a yellow submarine? The one from those singers her mom liked when she was young… Maybe the captain was a fan, too. Maybe they sung it on board. She laughed at the thought.

It didn’t leave her indifferent, that was for sure, and that could count as a compliment, since she had seen a ton of ships throughout her life. Props to Trafalgar Law for standing out among the crowd.

If the pirates weren’t around at the moment, it had to mean they were inside of the ship or already out in town. It was early still, but she was sure it was a matter of time until she ran into them – the town was pretty small, around a hundred, counting sailors, on a good day, news travelled fast, and these guys didn’t dress unassumingly.

With that in mind, she kept an eye out for familiar faces and resumed her unfruitful rounds around the port. Another day, another set of rejections. She tossed her paper cup in a trash can and made her way to the coffee shop where she always had the second tea of the day, sometimes even the third, if she was feeling particularly down about her current predicament.

She placed her order at the counter and waited for it. The owner, a balding middle aged man whose name she didn’t know but who had started to get chatty after she showed up a few days in a row, tried to strike up a conversation while he heated the water. “Did you hear? A pirate crew arrived in town last night.”

Alex wasn’t much for conversation in the mornings, and usually her replies to his attempts were rather apathetic, but the owner had struck gold with this particular topic. “I just saw the ship,” she repeated. “Have they done anything?”

“Not yet,” he replied with the clear implication that they soon would. “But it’s a Supernova’s crew, from what I’ve heard. Their captain’s a scary guy – how do they call him…?”

She had mixed feelings about that. She’d seen scary first hand, and in her experience it came in the shape of kidnapping crews, bubble helmets, or suits and fedoras. And ultimately, it was the fedoras’ fault she was in that coffee shop in the first place.

“Surgeon of Death,” she replied. There was no doubt that with that price on his head he was a walking danger, but after their first encounter, she had a feeling he was more the selective type than the let’s wreck everything in our path kind of guy. Not that his list of attributed crimes would lead anybody to think that. “Do you have trouble with pirates often? Being close to Sabaody and all.”

“Sometimes, but they usually go to more interesting places. It used to be as easy as calling the garrison to get rid of ‘em, but with Marineford so close it’s no wonder no one wants to be here any longer.”

“There used to be Marines here?”

“Yes, at the watchtower in the outskirts, but they left after some of the rooftop caved in. Building’s condemned now. A pity, ‘cause the watchtower’s been there forever, and they’ve let it fall apart.”

“That’s a shame,” she said. “How old’s the tower?”

The water started boiling then, and he turned around to remove it from the fire and make her drink. “Tale goes that it’s old as the stone entrance, but who knows,” he said with his back turned to her. “It’s not like we have any experts to come check.” He slid her the drink over the counter. “In case, try to avoid those guys. A woman traveling alone is an easy target for criminals.”

“Yes, I know,” she replied, putting a few belis in the counter and taking the cup by the handle. “Thanks.”

She chose to sit on the terrace, next to the railing that separated it from the sidewalk, to have a good view of the street. She was in a sort of commercial district, if a main street with a dozen of shops could be called that. Most people who stopped at the island had to pass by sooner or later, so it was the busiest place in town. Not so early, though. It wasn’t opening hours yet.

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched like a hawk the man who was monopolizing the only issue of the World Economic Journal and snatched it as soon as he got up to leave, so fast that it turned the heads of the other two people on the terrace.

News of the assault of Enies Lobby had been filling pages for a week already, and that day wasn’t an exception. The Straw Hat Pirates had done the unthinkable, and while in other circumstances Alex might have been watching the situation with amusement from afar, she was also pretty annoyed at them, because their stunt no doubt played into the poor supervision in the waters near Sabaody. On the other hand, she hoped that this also meant that neither Marines nor Cipher Pol would be very invested in finding her in the near future if she ended up a suspect.

She was also a little worried about Iceburg’s condition, but the newspapers hadn’t reported his death, so she had to assume he had recovered from the attempt on his life.

She skimmed over the usual columns prattling about the lack of security at sea and how worrying it was that a whole new generation of rookies with astronomical bounties were about to set foot in the Sabaody Archipelago at the same time. She didn’t think having a handful extra menaces sailing around mattered anymore, considering the state of the world at large, but the pearl-clutching sold newspapers, and she wondered about her sense of self-preservation when she realized with disappointment that, at the rate she was moving, she was going to miss the Supernova meetup in Sabaody. Her curiosity was going to bite her in the ass one day, she thought, before remembering that it already had, and that was the exact reason she was in her current position.

She skim read a few pages looking for interesting headlines, getting to the less important news that didn’t warrant spreads, editorials and pictures that took up half the page, and paled when she read the contents of an unassuming text box.

An unfortunate accident in the island of Harlun had blown up the local library while it was undergoing renovations. Nobody had been hurt, said the write-up, but the building had been destroyed in the ensuing fire and an investigation was still ongoing to determine what had happened. At least she guessed that the last part of the article said so, because she choked on her tea as she read it and spit some of it on the paper, making the ink run.

It couldn’t be a coincidence. Well, it technically could be, but no way she was buying that. The real question was if they’d be able to link the Poneglyph to her, and considering she that she was the person who spent the most time in the archive and she had conveniently left right before construction work took place, she had a pretty good chance to win that lottery. Oh, God, what if her coworkers mentioned that she used to go to the archive on Sundays, alone?

Her first impulse was to bang her head on the table and hide it between her arms, but the surface was sticky, so she ended up regretting it immediately. Instead, she put her elbows on the table, and covered her face with her hands. Her heart was beating loudly and her mind was running wild thinking of possible courses of action. She was on a timer. Getting to Sabaody as soon as possible was a necessity now. If there was a place she could hide, ironically, it was there.

“I see life’s treating you well.”

Alex’s heart tried to leap out of her mouth when she heard someone talk to her from so up close, but one of the perks of being born with a stick up her ass was that she only tensed up when she was startled, so she saved herself the embarrassment of yelping or jumping on her chair. She removed the hands from her face to look at the person, and the sight of a spotted furry hat and a yellow and black hoodie punched her in the eyes.

“Oh, hello,” she said, feeling more relaxed when she realized it was the Surgeon of Death leaning against the balustrade, not law enforcement. Her life had taken a turn for the surreal in a very short time, had it not?

His smirk faltered. “You aren’t surprised?”

“Saw your ship,” she said with some difficulty, and she drank some tea to swallowed the knot that had formed in her throat. Of all the times for him to appear... “Town’s small, we had to run into each other.”

“Hm.”

If she exerted a bit of imagination, she’d say he looked a bit disappointed. Why would he? No idea, but it was funny to think he was, and she was in dire need of funny.

He asked, “What are you doing here? This is far from your island.”

Farther than he knew, she almost said, but that was a can of worms and not relevant in the situation at hand. Feeling too overwhelmed to give long explanations, she handed him the newspaper open by the page she’d been reading. Talking could happen once she arranged her own thoughts, and only then.

“That’s…” He took it from her hands and read for a few seconds. An inscrutable expression gradually morphed into a look of pure indignation. “What’s the meaning of this?”

She was taken aback by the unexpected display of emotion. It was odd to see him react so strongly to something that didn’t concern him. “It isn’t that surprising, considering—”

“How is it not?” He retorted, annoyed. “Sora can’t lose against these weaklings!”

She stared at him in confusion. “What?” she blurted out, realizing afterwards that he was talking about the comic strip at the bottom of the page. And to be fair, she was going to tell him to look further up when the meaning of his words sunk in, but then she was the one leaning over the railing to look at the paper he was holding. “Wait, really? That’s impossible!”

“That’s what I’m saying!”

Upon reading the message under the strip, she complained, “On break until next month?” She sat back on the chair, mumbling, “I don’t even know if I’ll be alive next month,” before taking a sip of tea.

“Summer vacation cliffhanger,” he replied. “And you still haven’t told me what you’re doing here.”

“Read the news above.”

He looked at the paper again, and his eyes widened the smallest fraction as recognition dawned. That reaction was more appropriate. “Do you think it was…?”

“I’m sure of it. It’s too much of a coincidence.”

“Are you wanted now?”

“I don’t know. They have reason to suspect I knew it was there.” And she added with a bit of humor that she wasn’t really feeling, “If I get a bounty, I’ll say it was your fault.”

“I don’t think that’s going to do you any service.” A smirk returned to grace his features as he passed her the newspaper back. He was clearly amused by her misfortune, and that was the only good thing that had come out of it. “What do you plan to do?”

Alex let out a long exhale through her nose. She wanted to say that there was no plan, but there always was. Planning was something she did obsessively. “I need to get to Sabaody as soon as possible.” It was the only option. She could have elaborated, but again, she didn’t feel like it. Too early, too stunned to talk about serious stuff. Reality hadn’t fully sunk in. “You’re on Sora’s side? Really?”

He frowned at her. He did a lot of frowning, she thought. He was going to get wrinkles young. “Of course I am.”

“But he’s a Marine,” she said, a smile growing on her face despite herself. “Aren’t you one of the bad guys?”

“The Germa are vile,” he retorted, and perhaps realizing he was getting too much into the conversation, he went back to the other, much less fun topic. “Sabaody’s going to be full of Marines in no time, though.”

She was internally screaming, but it came out as a drawn out sigh. “Thanks to you, no doubt.”

“The merit isn’t all mine.”

“I know. You lot have been all over the news for weeks.” He looked awfully self-satisfied when she said that. “I guess you’ll be heading straight there after this place?”

“That’s the plan if there aren’t any stops in between. By the way, do you know how long until the Log Pose sets?”

“Five days, ten hours and twenty-six minutes,” she said blandly, repeating the number she had been told by several people when she first arrived to Porta Bella. It made her miserable, so of course she wasn’t going to forget it anytime soon.

“And the seconds?”

It took her way longer than necessary to realize he was messing with her. “Oh, fuck off.” She returned her attention to the newspaper so she didn’t have to look at his stupid face while he thought he was so funny. “Fishman Island’s right around the corner. Try not to drown.”

“We have a submarine.” He sounded amused still. Alex couldn’t tell if annoying her gave him that much joy or if he was having an exceptionally good day. He was pretty cranky for a while back in Duster Town, but now that she recalled, his mood seemed to improve every time he got one over her. “I don’t think it’ll be a problem.”

“Regular submarines can’t reach Fishman Island.”

He frowned again. “Why not?”

“It’s too deep. They can’t endure the water pressure.”

She could sense the levity from moments ago was gone by the way his jaw set. “But we heard ships can traverse the Red Line through an underwater route.”

“That’s why you go to Sabaody first.” She was exerting a considerable effort to give these really boring explanations that no one was going to thank her for. “You find yourself a good coating engineer to put a resin bubble around your ship and that’ll protect it.”

He seemed to study this new information from several angles before he spoke. “That’s good to know.”

“You’re welcome.”

He gave her a pointed look, but didn’t say anything about the jab. “Is it easy to find one?”

“There’s an entire section of the archipelago dedicated to it. It’s going to cost you, though. And depending on who you choose, there’ll be a waiting list.”

“Really?”

“Good coating engineers are few and far in between, and nobody wants to find out someone did a half-assed job on their sheep five kilometers underwater.”

“That’s…” He made a meditative pause. “…Reasonable.”

“I thought you were going to say something completely different.”

“It sucks too.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. Her life would be so much easier if one didn’t have to jump through thirty hoops to cross that chunk of rock. “In a hurry to get to the New World?”

He didn’t answer. He didn’t need to, either, because she was busy contemplating a new idea that had sprung in her mind. One that she’d rather avoid if she had other options left, and she wouldn’t know until a few days passed, but... this coincidence could prove to be useful yet.

“What?” He looked at her with suspicion.

“Nothing.” And just to get on his nerves a little, she added. “Yet.”

He fixed his gaze on her face, most likely gauging her intentions. Alex was incapable of looking at people in the eye, but she was good at faking it and not flinching under pressure, so she stared back.

“Do I want to ask?”

“I don’t know. Follow your instincts.”

To her surprise, he dropped it and took a step back from the railing. “I need to go back to the sub and see if the others are up already.”

Good. “For someone with a target so big on you, you wander a lot without them.”

“I like taking walks alone,” he said, like he didn’t think much of it. Like he could not fathom how he of all people could possibly be in danger from anybody else. “See you around?”

Was that a wish, a threat, or a pleasantry? “Without a doubt,” she replied, not bothering to hide the tedium in her voice. Damn empty town and damn slavers. “This town isn’t big enough for the two of us.”

She could have sworn he smiled a little at that, but Law shoved his hands in his pockets and made his leave too fast to see.

He was far enough that he wouldn’t hear her if she spoke in a normal volume when she remembered something important, so she resorted to raising her voice before the Heart crew did something they could regret. “Go to the Old Brewery if you don’t want to die! The Silver Fountain serves piss for drinks!”

He turned to look at her with the same curiosity back when she’d told him weapons weren’t allowed in the library, but this time he nodded in acknowledgement before making his exit.

The other customers on the terrace stared at her warily, but honestly, she couldn’t bring herself to feel bad for them even when the owner immediately came out to ask if she was okay and if the scary surgeon had said anything bad to her. At least something interesting was happening.

❦

Alex had a love-hate relationship with heights.

She inevitably got queasy when she was somewhere high up that didn’t have barriers or anything she could hold onto, but that didn’t stop her from going up there, anyway. It was like a very stupid magnetic pull that one day would end with her skull split open.

(It was the wind and the view. She knew that. It was also one of the few options she had to feel taller than most people.

But mostly the wind.)

The stone arch at the entrance of the town that gave Porta Bella its name was surrounded by the remains of a stone wall. First century, she guessed by the roughness of the stone blocks and the bit of mortar she scraped from between when she inspected it for the first time. It was easily over two meters, and only because the topmost part had fallen off. The blocks that hadn’t been taken away for use in newer constructions were still next to the wall, inviting anyone who’d dare to step on them to use them to climb.

She knew she wasn’t the only idiot who had felt the temptation, because the stone was worn from use. She’d also seen kids running at the top of the wall and no one had tried to stop them, and there were worse ways to channel all the nervous energy she had from reading that newspaper article.

She wasn’t a very proficient climber, but the blocks were positioned in such a way that getting to the top was easy as pie. No doubts someone had moved them for that exact purpose. When she was high enough, she threw a leg over the wall, then the other one, and sat facing the harbor.

The wind was nice up there.

She wouldn’t stand on the wall for all the money in the world and getting down was going to be an ordeal, but that was a problem for the Alex of the future.

That day had woken up to four ships in the harbor, counting the pirates’ submarine. Two would go away at the end of the week. The third was leaving that night. No vessels on the horizon.

She sighed. If the pirates were on an adventure, they sure had the shittiest of lucks docking only in the most boring islands the sea could offer.

With nothing better to do at the moment, and trying to delay as much as possible the moment she’d regret climbing that high, she moved towards the shadow of the arch without lifting her butt from the stone and rested her back against it.

She was at a loss. Sailing further away from the Sabaody Archipelago was counterproductive, but so was staying in the same island for too long, since she had no means of protecting herself if something happened. Then again, if she ended up broke before she got to Sabaody, she’d have to stay in whatever island she was to earn money to keep travelling.

All the options sucked. Maybe she needed to sleep on it to see what the lesser evil was. She had, after all, a few days to make a decision.

She looked at the sea, tinted dark green by her sunglasses, in what she assumed was Sabaody’s direction. So close, yet so far away. The skies were clear and the water calm, and though there weren’t any sailors to be found in the harbor, she could see the shadow of a couple of fishing boats in the distance. Wasn’t there a song that went like that? I'm sittin' on the dock of the bay, wastin' time…

She hummed, looking at nowhere in particular and letting her thoughts drift with the waves.

❦

She knew better than to cut through the lawless areas alone when it was getting late, so she had no one else to fault when she split from her group of classmates after spending their free day in Sabaody Park. It was only her and her stupid pride that didn’t allow her to admit that she didn’t think this was a great idea and that she didn’t want to go back to her room alone.

She broke into a sprint as soon as she heard the smallest rustle behind her, and that advantage proved to be essential, because someone started chasing after her. It sounded like more than one person, but she didn’t have time to look or tell how many sets of footsteps were behind her – she just ran like her life depended on it in the direction of the bridge that connected to the next grove, hoping that there would be other people there, and then—

—then she saw an open bar, a lone building in an even lonelier grove.

She rushed inside it, gasping for air so hard that she couldn’t speak, no matter how much she tried to explain to the bartender why she had barged in like that.

It wasn’t necessary.

“Don’t worry, dear, they’ve been hanging around these parts for a while,” she said, leading her to a chair with a gentle hair. “You’re safe here.” Her warm black eyes turned to someone else, and though Alex had trouble focusing on what was going on, she saw an old man with long white hair. “Why don’t you go take out the trash, Ray? They’ve driven off my clientele enough.”

“Sure,” the man replied, getting up from his stool and going outside.

Alex thought it was a horrible idea to send an old man to fight off a kidnapping crew, but that was because she didn’t know these people yet.

“Don’t worry about him. Here,” the woman gave her a glass of water. “Name’s Shakky. Rest all you need.”

❦

Footsteps approached. She shut up immediately.

“I like that song.”

Singing helped when she had too much anxious energy. It was probably related to breathing control. She had stopped anxiety attacks in the making like that sometimes.

It didn’t help at all when someone had been listening in and she hadn’t noticed.

“Oh. Thanks. Um, hi.”

“Hi,” Bepo said smiling. “I heard from Captain you were here.”

Even though she was sitting on top of the wall, Bepo’s head went past it. If he stood on his tiptoes, he could have rested his head on her legs. On one hand, it was a little aggravating that she had to climb so high up only to be marginally taller than him. On the other, Alex was filled with the urge to scratch his ears.

“Yeah, I’m stuck waiting for a ship,” she told him. “Ideally, you wouldn’t have found me here.”

“Oh? Where are you going?”

“Sabaody.”

“Isn’t that very close? How come you haven’t found a ship?”

“There’s kidnapping crews infesting the waters. You know what those are?”

“Uh… isn’t it in the name?”

Alex blinked. “Right. Don’t mind me.”

He fell into thought for a few seconds. “Why are they kidnapping people?”

“To sell. They get auctioned in the archipelago.”

Bepo frowned. “I see.”

“Hey, don’t worry,” she said, smiling for his sake. “Nothing’s going to happen to your crew. You’re strong.”

He beamed with pride. “Yeah, we are! We’ve been training for years to come here!”

Alex mirrored his expression without thinking. “Your Captain said you’ve been friends since you were kids. Did you—”

“Bepo!” Someone called out. “What are you doing?”

“Ah, sorry!” Bepo said, turning around to see the newcomer. “I was catching up…”

A woman with curly hair and a severe expression walked up to them, hands on her hips, and she looked a little confused when she laid eyes on Alex. She was struggling to place her. “Have we seen each other…?”

“On passing. I’m the Duster Town dumbass that opened the library for your Captain.”

“Oh, yeah, now that you mention it—” The confusion was back. “Isn’t this place a little too far from there?”

“I’m running away from justice.” She didn’t offer further explanation.

Bepo didn’t need it. “So are we!”

A barely contained laugh made it past the woman’s lips. “Oh well, if you’re a fellow criminal…” She extended a hand towards Alex. “Name’s Ikkaku. What did you do, keep too many books past the return date?”

“I wish.” She shook her hand. “Alex.”

“So that’s your name?” Bepo asked.

She turned her attention towards the bear. “I never told you?”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Wow, I am rude,” she said to herself. “Anyway, hope you’re ready to take it easy, because you have five long days ahead of you.”

Ikkaku groaned. “I don’t mind, but some of the guys get so jittery after a couple days on land. I don’t suppose there’s a very active nightlife in this place?”

“Actually, there are two taverns in the entire town.”

“Oh, that sounds like something to keep ‘em busy.”

“I don’t think you want to go to one of them, though.” She wondered if the captain was going to pass the message or they would come to regret their choices. “There’s also an abandoned Marine outpost right outside of town, if they don’t want to be drunk 24/7.”

“Might be worth checking out, but I’m pretty sure they’ll take the ale.”

“Can’t blame them.” She was tempted to drown her sorrows in alcohol, and she barely ever drank.

She took a look around the desolate harbor, the small houses and the half-fallen wall with a disappointed look. “Well…” she began, “Bepo, we need you for the crates. He’s been waiting and he’s cranky enough already after—”

“Ah! Sorry!” He said, bowing at her and looking more upset than the comment would suggest. Maybe they didn’t treat him as well in the sub as she had assumed. When he turned to Alex, he also bowed repeatedly. “I’m really sorry, but I need to go!”

“Sure, no problem!” she said, making an effort to sound lively. She felt so fake when she did that. So customer servicey. “See you!”

As the pirates left, she tried to look at them in a different light. While it wasn’t too difficult to believe they would be mistreating the mink of the crew, even if they hadn’t been unkind while she was watching. He seemed shy. Maybe that was all there was to it? But the reaction seemed a little extreme. She would pay closer attention from then on.

❦

Her privileged observation point let Alex see a lot of things that day. She saw more of the crew coming and going, though they didn’t seem to recognize her, she watched one of the docked ships depart, and she met a cat that tried to get food from her, but after a good back scratch realized she didn’t have anything else to offer and walked away, leaving a lonesome Alex staring at the hand she’d used to pet it, wondering how many parasites it had come in contact with.

She immediately went back to the inn to wash her hands and get dinner.

The rest of the evening was spent looking at her Poneglyph folder and her mostly blank notebook. She had carried with her the transcript of the stone and copied some documentation from the library that could prove useful in deciphering it, but she wasn’t making any headway yet. Very little was known about the ancient language, even less was published, and she wasn’t a cryptographer. So far, she had identified what she thought were punctuation signs separating sentences and one of the names in the text.

In her years working in Harlun, she had seen centuries old coins from a currency before belis, and some of them had the legend around the rim written in different languages. Meaning, she knew how to write the name of the island in that ancient language. That was about it. She had a feeling the script wasn’t pure phonetic, either, and that wasn’t something she could attempt to tackle without cross-referencing.

Porta Bella was a nice place to spend a short vacation, sure, but it was impossible to find any books that might help. She had tried. The local bookstore only carried best sellers, and she would have bought that vampire novel that was getting so popular if money wasn’t so tight and she had space in her bag, but as things were, she had to fight frustration and boredom alone.

She had to face the fact that she wasn’t going to do anything useful that night, either. She took off her reading glasses, thinking that trying to sleep sounded like the best idea. Maybe next morning she’d finally have some good luck and find a ship that wouldn’t carry her too far from the Red Line.

❦

Too early for words, and wearing a flannel shirt as a jacket because it had gotten windy, she strode out of the inn with her paper cup and a new challenge. She had thought herself immune to monotony before this, but she had clearly overestimated her brain’s capability to get distracted by anything.

Instead of walking to the docks following the main road, like every morning, she made for the wall again. Stepping on the fallen rock, she reached up with her left hand to the top of the wall and placed the paper cup as far as she could from her, and then she climbed up like the previous day. Well, she tried to, because for some reason early in the morning she didn’t have a lot of hand strength, and she felt a stabbing pain in one of her knees when she stretched her leg to reach the wall.

It took two tries and the fear of having lost her first morning tea, but she got where she wanted.

Cross-legged, she sat on the wall and took sips of her drink while inspecting the docks. No new ships in sight. That time there was someone walking on one of the submarine’s decks, but she couldn’t make out their face, and she didn’t know most of the crew anyway.

The wind had driven all the clouds away, and the dark shadow on the horizon reminded her of how close she had been to getting to the New World before she had to reconsider the entire strategy.

She was about to sigh, but she sensed someone near her vicinity even before she heard the crunch of gravel, so she kept it to herself and looked over her shoulder.

That silly hat was becoming a familiar sight. Trafalgar Law looked up at her from a reasonable distance, having just noticed her. Please don’t get any closer, please—

He changed course and went towards Alex, who didn’t bother to hide how little she appreciated the company less than an hour after waking up.

“Morning walk?” she asked, or grunted, depending on who you asked.

“Yeah,” he replied, annoyingly awake. “What are you doing there?”

“Wasting time.”

Someone with a little more tact, or at least who cared about having it, would have taken a hint and left, but this was not the case. “I want to hear more about Sabaody.”

Oh, she wasn’t nearly awake enough for this, but she made an effort to not be outright rude. “Okay,” she relented. “But you ask me questions, I don’t want to think.”

That was good enough for him, it seemed. With irritating ease, and without having to step on the fallen stone, he boosted himself up against the wall and climbed it in a matter of seconds.

Something caught his attention when he looked up, and he stood up on the stone like the concepts of acrophobia and losing one’s balance were but a faraway ping in his radar. Alex’s mood was souring by the second, granted, a likely thing to happen at that hour. It wasn’t personal.

“Is that…?”

She turned to look in the same direction he was.

“Yeah. Red Line.”

“I didn’t think it was so close.”

“It’s a few days away still. It’s just that big.” She thought of the times she’d been at the base. It was impossible to see the top from its bottom. And, considering what lay up there, perhaps it was for the better. “You saw it from the other side, I guess?” North Blue was adjacent to the New World. In a sense, both of them were from the same side of the Line. How weird to think that they had anything in common.

“Yeah. We entered the Grand Line through Reverse Mountain.”

Expected, but incomprehensible to her unless he had a death wish. “Ships sink there every day. What do you want so bad that you’d risk that?”

“Wasn’t I the one asking the questions?” he shot back.

She gave him a deadpan look, then looked at the cup between her hands. It wasn’t doing much to drive away the numbness of her fingers. How many people had gone out to sea since the Great Age of Piracy began and failed because they bit more than they could chew? And they weren’t the only ones dying. For every decent man that got a ship and called himself a captain, there were ten whose only interest was pillaging villages and getting rich. Was that massive chain reaction what Gold Roger had intended with its final speech? Had it been a final fuck you to world order, or was there something else behind it?

She had contradicting thoughts about it. Roger’s last words had unarguably made the world worse, but…

Well.

The guy had been a badass. Even she wasn’t immune to seeing that. With every new pirate crew that sailed to Reverse Mountain to test its fortune, he kept proving how much bigger than life he had been. Twenty years down the line, he had become as much of a legend as the tales of gods from islands in the sky. The kind of legacy a regular person only dreams of having.

He said, I will never die.

He had been more right than he knew.

She looked at Trafalgar with renewed curiosity. “Are you trying to become Pirate King too?”

He didn’t give a clear answer, despite how easy of a question it was. “What if I am?”

It wasn’t a no. A straight yes would get many pirates laughed out of town even in a place like the Grand Line. There wasn’t a lot of room for romantic ideas of piracy when civilians lived in fear of black flags showing up one day at the port and taking away everything they had.

“Just curious.” She wasn’t feeling articulate enough to explain where she was going to herself, much less him. “Nothing wrong with dreaming big.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, she felt like she had called herself out. Where was she going? After Sabaody, after crossing the Red Line, after getting to her hometown? Those were only checkpoints. But where was her purpose? Inside the bag she had in her room at the inn, or somewhere else?

An awkward silence stretched along with the horizon. For some reason, he decided not to press her for answers and sat down. A small mercy for Alex’s neck.

“After the Log Pose sets, it will point to Fishman Island. How do we get to Sabaody first?”

It was a relief to be able to give an answer she didn’t have to think about. “It should be visible when you’re close enough to the Red Line. It looks like a random cluster of trees popped up in the middle of the ocean.”

“That’s it? Is it safe to dock anywhere?”

“Mostly. The archipelago is made up of 80 groves. 60 to 69 house a Marine garrison, and that’s where the ferries to Marineford and Mary Geoise leave from, so you don’t want to be there. Other than that…” She had to strain to remember the range of numbers. “20 to 29 is the only lawless area open to sea, so you know Marines won’t go there, but since no one’s keeping watch, the competition might try to sabotage you. I don’t know, I never had to worry about that sort of thing.”

“I’m not afraid of other crews,” he said with that devil may care attitude that got pirates killed left and right. “We haven’t come this far without knowing how to defend our ship.”

She wasn’t going to argue his point. “I’m just saying what I know. You do you.” But she took note to keep her opinions to herself, lest he had the urge to express how full of himself he was again.

He looked at her like he was trying to figure out what sort of hidden meaning her noncommittal response held, but little did he know that behind the sleepy façade her prevailing thought was it’s too early for this shit.

“You said you spent some time in the archipelago.” It wasn’t worded like a question, but it was a way to probe for info. She supposed that she would have wanted to know the credentials of her sources, had she been in his position.

She hummed. “I lived there a few years.”

Taking a sip from the cup, she returned her attention towards the outline in the horizon. It had been a constant part of the scenery back then, always peeking out from behind the trees and buildings of the groves closest to the shore. A grim reminder, on one hand, of those who lived above the peasants, but at the same time, Sabaody had been… fun. There was always something happening. Moderately dangerous, but always entertaining. She had forgotten how that felt after the years of routine in Duster Town.

A question brought her out of her thoughts. “Are you from this area?”

“Oh, no,” she said, surprised that he had even entertained the idea. “No, I got a scholarship to study in one of the World Government’s academies. I’m from the other side of the Red Line.”

“From the New World?” He said with surprise, and mulled over this new piece of information until it fit satisfactorily in whatever picture of her he had constructed in his mind. “So that’s where the accent’s from.”

It was unexpected comment after unexpected comment. “Excuse me?” she replied in an incredulous tone. “You are the one with a heavy accent.”

Now it was him who got caught off guard. “That’s not true,” he retorted. He looked like he was trying to determine if she was pulling his leg.

“Yes it is,” she insisted. “Everybody has an accent. You and your crew have that typical northern one that sounds like you’re about to shank the person you’re saying hello to.”

For a moment, she thought he had offended him to the point of silence. Just for a moment, because he didn’t take long to counter with, “You sound like you’re trying to whisper through a megaphone.”

She snorted with laughter as soon as the words sunk in. It was true that she spoke in a low voice most of the time. “If that isn’t the best description of Dressrosan I’ve heard—”

She felt an immediate change in atmosphere, like an electric current shooting through the air, and shut up as a precaution.

Trafalgar has tensed up all of a sudden and was staring at her like she had grown a second head, like she was trying to set her on fire with a glare, or both. “What did you say?”

She found herself tensing up in return, even though she didn’t know what she had done. But when a dangerous guy scowled at you like that, survival instincts kicked in. Goodbye sleepiness, and welcome life danger. “Um… Dressrosan?” She eyed him warily. “My mother tongue?”

His eyes grew wider, but other than that, his expression didn’t change much. “You’re from Dressrosa?”

She suddenly understood. It wasn’t the first time she got odd reactions when she said where she was from, but it had been a while. “Oh, right.” She sighed. “You’ve heard of the whole Doflamingo thing.”

Or… maybe she was wrong. He seemed a little out of it, like he was looking past her at… who knew what was in his head.

After a few seconds without a reply, she deemed it safe to speak. “Did I say anything wrong?”

“…No. I was just surprised.” After that, he seemed to go back to normal, though his voice sounded a little strained. He was still tense. “It’s a long way there.”

Suspicious. Did he know someone from there? “It’s not so much the distance as having the Red Line in the way. Getting permission to cross it takes time.” And she figured that she had run out of it.

“How’s the country?” He asked in a way that tried to sound casual, and maybe, maybe would have worked if he hadn’t made clear already that he had a particular interest in it. “Being ruled by pirates and all.”

She made a disgruntled sound. She had signed up to answer questions about the Sabaody Archipelago, not Dressrosa. There was a reason why she hadn’t been home in ages. “It’s doing fine. Better than fine, in fact. Economy is booming. People are happy.” She delivered each sentence in a quick, clipped tone. “It pisses me off.”

“Why?”

Because she always had to be the odd one out, she thought. And this guy wasn’t getting the message that she didn’t want to talk about it. “Doflamingo doesn’t deserve that kind of credit. He and his crew should go back to the hole they crawled out of.”

He huffed. “North Blue’s had enough of him already.”

Animosity was dripping from his words, and that made her feel a little less displeased and a lot more interested in what he had to say. He could’ve seen firsthand the repercussions of Doflamingo’s actions there.

“That’s true.” She didn’t know much about the specifics, but there was a reason the North Blue was considered the most dangerous out of the four cardinal seas. “I guess he did a number there before he moved onto the Grand Line.”

“You don’t sound very fond of him either.”

Look at that, a flat out admission of having feelings about someone.

“He’s scum,” she said with more venom than she had meant to. “He dethroned the king only to take over himself, reinstated gladiator fights to death, and he has a trafficking empire. The Human Auctioning House in Sabaody displays his Jolly Roger openly. But he’s a Warlord. As long as money keeps flowing and the Celestial Dragons can buy new pets, nobody seems to care.”

“And you do? You say your country’s doing well.”

She didn’t know whether to reply honestly or not. He was trying to dig deeper than she was comfortable with answering, but she was on a roll already. “Dressrosa used to be a very poor country. I’m not blaming the people who have a better life now, but I don’t think you can build anything stable from corruption. Someone will topple Doflamingo one day, and the country will go down with him.” Her tone was increasingly becoming more determined. “And when the time comes, I hope they get rid of kings once and for all.”

“You lost me at that last part.”

“Monarchy is an obsolete form of government. How’s the world going to get rid of the Celestial Dragons if we can’t even get rid of the pests at home?”

He stared at her blankly, and that was when she realized she had talked too much and looked away from him. Ah, to be a life form capable of fusing with granite and dying in the spot…

She heard a short, muffled laugh, and glanced at him. Great, a pirate making fun of her was exactly what she needed to start her day.

“Can’t say I took you for an anarchist.” He was smirking.

“What part of ‘fuck the government’ was unclear?” she replied, still avoiding to look at him. “The more time you spend near Mary Geoise, the more you realize everything has to burn down. Then there are the Marines.” A lost cause. “It’s even their combined fault that I’m stuck here.”

“What do you mean?” He sounded relaxed again. It was like he hadn’t been acting like a weirdo through the entire conversation about Dressrosa. “Aren’t you just waiting for a ship?”

She took a long breath in preparation to give the same explanation she’d been getting every time she spoke to a newly arrived sailor. “Kidnapping crews are infesting the waters ahead. Normal ships don’t want to go near Sabaody because there’s going to be a human auction next week. Marines aren’t helping because the government benefits from the slave trade, and I assume the Enies Lobby debacle has hit them hard. I already told Bepo you don’t have to worry about it, though. They only attack pirates if they think they’re weaklings.” And trying to change the subject to something that didn’t force her to wallow in her misery, she asked, “How much was it already, Mr. Supernova?”

He looked awfully satisfied with his title. “It’s not Trafalgar anymore?”

“I’ve always liked stars.” And speaking of Bepo, she remembered something from their conversation the day before. “By the way, I don’t think I introduced myself. I’m—”

“Bepo told me. I like Librarian-ya better.”

She had an urge to fling what was left of her tea at him, but she held back at the expense of looking away and letting a strained smile show. Not worth the loss of beverage. It wasn’t going to stop him from being an early morning smartass.

The silence that ensued this time didn’t feel as uncomfortable as before, but that bar was so low, it might as well have been underground.

#degrees of separation #tried to post this draft from mobile and the formatting imploded #why is tumblr so

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dilettantereviews · 6 years ago

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Due to some personal circumstances, finishing this list took longer than I’m proud of, but I hope it’s worth it.

Isolation by Kali Uchis- This was a hard album to write for, not because of the quality (obviously), but because it’s so all over the place and hard to classify. I first paid attention to her through an ONTD original about pop stars with personas, then I thought of her as an indie pop girl, and her collaborations with rap and Latin artists make me compare her to women in R&B or urban music as well. But she’s just Kali. People always talk about “it took Ms.Nancy 8 years for her debut but it’s iconic!!” but for Kali I definitely feel it. The psychedelic baroque intro alone lets you know that you’re about you go on a journey of an album. Songs like Miami, Tomorrow, and Your Teeth, My Neck (and I guess Just a Stranger) all talk about the uncomfortable intersection between wealth and desire, while songs like Dead to Me (lol) give some brevity and energy to this album. For critics who think she can’t sing, Killer has a great Winehouse-esque performance. The album cover looks like a Prince Protege vanity set fantasy painting.

Joyride by Tinashe- Tinashe had a weird 2017, with Flame flopping, Light Up the Sky dropping, and a bizarre Taco Tuesday outing (why?!?! They said it was a networking event, but for who? The girl has more collaborations than all the different companies Pepsi distributes for), but her 2018 was better. We got a random HQ picture that turned out to be the first cover for a tringle that lead to Joyride. She answered many questions like yes, she did need to use legal options to release Joyride, and no, she didn’t like Flame. She release a great pop album that is a little Frankensteined together but you can still use all the songs. Although things seem murky now, I feel that Tinashe will keep giving us great, unique music. Personal favorites include No Drama, Faded Love, No Contest, and Ooh La La.

Caution by Mariah Carey- I keep seeing people mention that this is their first Mariah album, which is appropriate, because this feels like a new beginning for her. It’s my first Mariah album too, but I’ve seen one Popjustice member say that this is her only album where she mainly sings in a lower register and where the background instrumentals are darker electronics. I’ve heard that Me.. I am Mariah at least tried out new things, but this incorporated everything successfully. I’ve never really listened to Mariah before because I just figured it would be mostly ballads and midtempos, but this album kept things unique. Highlights include GTFO, A No No, Giving Me Life, and Portrait. This album is the sonic equivalent of putting your favorite Bath and Body Works moisturizer on, making a warm drink, and hiding under a weighted blanket, and who doesn’t want that in a year like this?

Take Me to the Disco by Meg Myers- People say that there are too many meaningless buzzwords (true) but I don’t think alt vs indie rock is one of those. Indie is generally minimal and guitar based but alt is left of the middle rock and expansive. Meg went for category 2. Following her great debut album from 2015, she went for a bigger, better, and darker sound this time. It reminds me of Tori (Tear Me to Pieces and Jealous Sea sound very Choirgirl), PJ, Trent, and the Smashing Pumpkins. Take Me to the Disco is a nice ballad that starts out the album, which doesn’t prepare you at all for Numb, the following track. Done and Funeral are also strong. Listen if you’re tired of slackers in music.

Childqueen by Kadhja Bonet- If music indicates mood, I don’t know what Spotify premium subscribing, Allmusic reading, time travelling aliens would know about 2018. Sure, there were some political albums, but I feel like the pace of crappy events was faster than (High quality) political music. Even on a personal level, 2018 wasn’t ridiculously iconic or anything for me, and I was still petty and had grudges to work on. That being said, I have no clue how psychedelic music became big for me this year. We had Moodoid, Melody’s Echo Chamber, The Internet (sort of), and Dita Von Teese. But my favorite is perhaps Kadhja Bonet, whose theatrical sounds are like the score to an old Disney movie. Mother, …, and Second Wind are great. Bonus EP was released this fall.

so sad, so sexy by Lykke Li- I haven’t really listened to Lykke before, so I figured her pop reinvention was a good time to get into her. This album reminds me of Nelly Furtado for indie songwriting but with hooks. Although sometimes the trap parts are a little awkward (use vaporwave instead!), this was a good reinvention. My favorites include Two Nights featuring Amine (he is NOT a rent a rapper!), Jaguars in the Air (you and me we’re psychedelic!), and of course, sex money feelings die. I would love a Jessy Lanza remix album commissioned.

Silk Canvas by Vanjess- Everyone loves whisper registers and high pitched whisper singing in R&B (Diana Ross, Janet, Aaliyah, Ciara, Cassie, Tinashe) but what I really love is a deep voice (or at least one that sounds a little raspy). Vanjess joins Her, Total, and T Boz and even The Weeknd in the deep vocals crowd. Don’t mark these Nigerian princesses as spam, just give them a stream, no bank accounts required. I like that they have a better understanding of making a cohesive album with different genres and still staying in a certain vibe instead of doing the same song 12 times. Even their remix EP gets that. Control Me and Addicted, the big singles from this album, are good symbols for their moody R&B sound but they have more than that. Touch the Floor is more uptempo in the vein of Kaytranada, as are the excellent Through Enough and Another Love. My Love reminds me of Aaliyah’s One in a Million. The One picks up where the 80’s revival trend left off, but improves on the synth funk sound. Even Cool Off the Rain, a 2 minute interlude, is worth listening to.

7 by Beach House- I don’t know what made this album click with me. This is my 4th album for Beach House, so I thought I just wouldn’t get them by now, I listen to dream pop and shoegaze enough where I thought I’d like any vibey music. This album didn’t reinvent the wheel but it has warmth to it, without losing their signature ‘when your arm has pins and needles and you need to wiggle yourself to a healthy blood circulation again’ sound. Favorites include Lemon Glow, Black Car, Dark Spring, and Girl of the Year. I also recommend Wax idols and Pinkshinyultrablast if you’re looking for more shoegaze..

Dita Von Teese by Dita Von Teese- This was always going to be a niche passion project by a burlesque artist, so I don’t think it was ever going to set the charts on fire, but not even the internet cared about this? If you miss Lana’s old Hollywood glamour, you should check out this album. It mixes 60’s psychedelics with electronic music to create a perfect loungy sound. I’m not saying I’m those “I miss 2012 Lana!!” but I stuck with her through her Old Hollywood Jackie Kennedy Born to Die phase, her 60’s Manson Girl Ultraviolence cult phase, her 50’s (?) maps to the stars Honeymoon, and 70’s singer songwriter Lust for Life phase, so I was excited to see what other incarnations we would get. Would we get a full on spaced out culty version of Honeymoon? An 80’s Midwest goth album? A late 90’s vaporwave mixtape? Okay, most of these are just words thrown together that nobody would want, but Dita’s album had the concept and the execution there, all it needed was the audience. The French songs have a certain sadness in them. I like Bird of Prey and Dangerous Guy as well, but the whole album is well produced and beautiful sounding, so you should listen to it if you just want some easy listening that’s riskier than most of pop and alternative’s current artists.

Black Panther- Yes, this should count as an album. I’ve seen people treat The Hunger Games soundtracks (yes, those movies didn’t spontaneously appear on TNT one day) as real albums and stan Lorde’s vision for it. I’ve seen people stan the soundtrack for A Star is Born, like it’s a real Lady Gaga album, but Black Panther is where y’all draw the line? Okay. Aside from the breakout single, you get a good vocal performance from SZA, a top tier Jorja Smith song, the best flute performance of 2018, and the downtemp Seasons. That a random soundtrack can have that much cohesion is good for Kendrick Lamar but bad for other artists.

#best of #best of 2018 #kali uchis #tinashe #mariah carey #meg myers #kadhja bonet #lykke li #vanjess #dita von teese #black panther

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atomiktaco-moved · 7 years ago

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Sing with me?

(This is pretty long. Sorry about that. Also please excuse my mistakes it’s like 3:20 am as I type this on my phone.)

It had been days since Anti had received his gift from Jack. The small ukelele was hanging on his back with the strap over his left shoulder as he ran. He was heading to the meeting hall normally used by the IIplier Egos to meet up with his friends.

‘The Host is gonna love this!’ Anti thought skipping up to the door excitedly. He opened it and hid his right hand behind his back as he walked toward the meeting room. 'Perfect timing!’ was all that crossed his mind as the Egos began to stand up and put away their belongings. The first to speak was Dark. “Ah, if it isn’t our favorite little glitch.” He spoke softly and sweet as everyone looked at the door. A chorus of 'Hello’s soon followed Darks comment. “I presume you’re here for The Host?” Dark said raising his eyebrow as his lips curled into a small smirk. Anti nodded furiously and after a small exchange he and the Host were off.

“Anti. Where are we going again? I would like to know the setting.” The Host asked behind the green haired boy who was practically dragging him. The boy jumped a little at the thought of the location.

“We’re heading to the flower garden remember?!” He almost screamed in excitement as the Host nodded. They reached their destination soon after and Anti began to put the final touches on his surprise. The Host softly narrated their surroundings to get his bearings then fell silent.

“Anti, I feel as though you have a particular reason for bringing me to day other than describing the flowers to me.” The Host chuckled a bit at the bouncing boy in front of him. Anti pulled up a chair for the Host and helped him sit down.

“Ok!” Anti began, “So I did have a surprise for you today. It’s a two part thing so be ready!” His voice full of happiness and determination to get his gift perfect. The Host nodded and couldn’t help but let a smile dance on his lips. “First off there’s this!” He said placing a red and gold rose flower crown on the Host’s head surprising him with the sudden act.

“Thank you Anti! I bet it’s lovely. Do you… mind describing it to me?” The Host’s tone began faltering during the question. He was still not used to asking others to describe his surroundings for him. Anti began describing to the best of his ability and watched the Host’s expression as he described the crown almost getting distracted in the process.

“That all I have to say for the flower crown. Now to the second part of the surprise! As you know, Jack gave me a ukelele as a gift a few days ago and I learned a new song! I wanted to play it for you as a gift. I’m not the best singer though so bare with me.” He said bouncing on his feet as he talked. Anti pulled up his own chair and sat cross legged on it. He began plucking the strings to get a sense of the key then cleared his throat. Anti began playing and sang softly as to not hurt the Host’s ears.

'If you ever find yourself stuck in the middle of the sea, I’ll sail the world to find you If you ever find yourself lost in the dark and you can’t see, I’ll be the light to guide you’

The Host chuckled at the word choice of the song Anti chose as the green boy stopped and realized his words. He instantly began to apologize but the Host urged him to continue. Feeling a bit guilty, Anti continued to play due to the Hosts request.

'Find out what we’re made of When we are called to help our friends in need

You can count on me like one two three I’ll be there And I know when I need it I can count on you like four three two You’ll be there 'Cause that’s what friends are supposed to do, oh yeah Whoa, whoa Oh, oh Yeah, yeah’

Listening intently and tapping his foot, the Host decided to the surprise the boy had prepared for him around. With a smirk on his lips the Host sat up straight gaining Antis attention and began singing the next verse.

'If you tossin’ and you’re turnin’ and you just can’t fall asleep I’ll sing a song Beside you And if you ever forget how much you really mean to me Everyday I will Remind you

Ooh Find out what we’re made of When we are called to help our friends in need’

A small pause occurred and only the sound of nearby birds and the wind could be heard. A smile grew on Antis face as he began to play again and both males sang the chorus trying their best to harmonize.

'You can count on me like one two three I’ll be there And I know when I need it I can count on you like four three two You’ll be there 'Cause that’s what friends are supposed to do, oh yeah Whoa, whoa Oh, oh Yeah, yeah’

They broke out into a fit of pure laughter and joy as they finished the song a few verses later. The Host let out a small happy sigh and fixed his disheveled hair looking in Antis direction.

“Anti…” he paused gaining the boys attention, “This has been one of the best gift I’ve ever received and the most fun I’ve ever had. I’d like to thank you from the bottom of- oofh!” The Host was cut off abruptly by an unannounced hug from Anti which he soon returned. They stayed that way for minutes on end enjoying the others company. The Host absentmindedly began playing with Antis hair as he whispered a soft 'Thank you’.

The Host soon got pulled away from the bliss due to a call from Dark he would have rather not answered saying he needed to return soon. After telling Anti what Dark said, they both walked back to the meeting hall as slowly as they could while having Anti stop and describe everything around them to buy some more time together. All while neither of them wanting to be too far from the other settled on linking their arms together as they walked feeling comfort in the others warmth.

(How did I do? I haven’t written anything in a while so sorry if it’s not that great. Hope you like it anyways!)

@fandom-jumper01

ANGIE U DID AMAZING OH MY G O D

When i was reading the lyrics i was like, wait i think i know this sonG

And then the chorus and then bAM

MY SOUL WAS BLESSED ONCE AGAIN

#TYSM AAAAA #submission

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projectalbum · 6 years ago

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At my most beautiful. 194. “Up,” 195. “Reveal,” 196. “In Time: The Best of R.E.M. 1988-2003,” 197. “Around the Sun,” 198. “And I Feel Fine… The Best of the IRS Years 1982-1987,” 199. “R.E.M. Live" by R.E.M.

If New Adventures in Hi-Fi was part of the score to my college years (along with a sudden influx of Talking Heads, Nine Inch Nails, and Bob Dylan), my hesitant, unsure 20's were captured by Up.

Up (#194) was a bold recalibration of R.E.M. as a three-piece after the departure of Bill Berry. The compilation In Time (#196) had helpfully introduced me to the electronically-inflected chamber pop of “Daysleeper” and “At My Most Beautiful” (which only now, years later, do I recognize as a Beach Boys pastiche.) So as big of a stylistic departure as it is, with gentler melodies, burbling distortion, processed or programmed drums, and an air of the retro-futurism that had begun creeping into late 90’s aesthetics, I wasn't taken aback the way long-time fans were. The songs didn’t need to reassure me that the band was still A Thing after losing a founding member; by the time I got around to Up, it was simply another entry in the canon.

“Airportman” sounds like what it is: a transitional piece; a low key, glimpsed-through-a-keyhole preview of a new sound. The lyrics are murmured, the pre-programmed beat and keyboards nearly chintzy. The bass is a single note, repeated percussively, that provides the counterweight to the tinkling, echoey vibraphone; the only guitar presence is trembling feedback floating in the ether. I know it’s considered an odd choice for an opening gambit— it was even the first number they played publicly as a three-piece, to the collective head-scratching of an arena. But like “Packt Like Sardines in a Crushd Tin Box" or "All The Love In The World,” it's a song that isn’t necessarily representative of the album as a whole, but it's one that never fails to put me in the right headspace for the journey: ready for the unexpected.

“Suspicion” is a track that I return to often. On my 70th or so listen, I recognize that the lyrics are about meeting someone and wanting to luxuriate in the fantasy. "Please don't talk, don't make me think / Order up another drink / Let me let imagination drive.” Don’t break the spell by bringing real life into this. Radiohead covered similar ground on “Jigsaw Falling Into Place,” but the sonic approach here is much mellower, almost a satire of spacey cocktail lounge music.

Bleating forth from the soft outro of “Suspicion” comes “Hope,” a dramatically out-of-the-box composition for this band: busy loops of synth, organ, piano, rattling guitar feedback, and stanzas with no chorus. As a weirdo hymn about "looking for deliverance” while trying to avoid the traps of recognizable religious dogma, it channels the itch for transcendence in me. “You look up to the heavens and you hope that it’s a spaceship” and "You’re looking like an idiot, and you no longer care,” two lines for the spooky seekers among us. Befitting a song about searching that offers no answers, the melody doesn’t resolve so much as boil over into cacophony and then cut itself short.

Up was largely overlooked on release, but it has gained a comfortable reputation over the years (the singles never really stuck, but “Walk Unafraid” is the classic track of the record). Which has opened up a spot for Reveal (#195) to step up as The Underrated R.E.M. Album. It’s a further journey into trippy, sunny pop, shot through with electronica. The titles of these records could easily be transposed: the angst and introspection of the tracks on Up suggest something the artists Reveal, whereas the modus operandi of “Summer Turns To High” and “All The Way To Reno (You’re Gonna Be A Star)” is to convince us that things are looking Up.

It could be easy to get the shakes from the taste of so much sugarcane (that’s a reference to “Imitation of Life,” y’see), but the band adds a dash of bitters with the stirring balladry of “She Just Wants To Be,” featuring Peter Buck’s most aching solo since the New Adventures days, and the cracked Americana of “Disappear,” which transforms the string arrangements that sweep through the lighter songs into scritching dissonance. The bubbly production can at times threaten to shave the edges off of solid songs like “Beat A Drum” and “I’ll Take The Rain.” For the first several years of owning this record, the 2nd half tended to melt into a candy-colored mass in my brain. Unplugged recordings unlocked the re-listenability, and the whole disc has become perfect for summertime spinning.

Around The Sun (#197), consensus pick for the weakest album in their catalogue, has some strong melodies and biting political sentiment hidden behind some anemic performances and shrug-worthy production. I’m probably fonder of it than most: I groove on “The Outsiders,” for instance, which gives some folks palpitations due to the mere presence of hip-hop in the mix— but Q-Tip’s guest verse is the high point, not a repeat of KRS One’s cornball contribution way back on Out of Time. Opener “Leaving New York” is a bittersweet ballad for Stipe’s adopted home, still overcast by recent tragedy and a lifetime of personal associations. While the band was never shy in the press about throwing a spotlight on political issues, the post-9/11, middle of the Iraq War atmosphere couldn’t help but flow into the lyrics to a larger degree than ever before.

“Final Straw” is an electro-bluegrass reaction to the feckless villainy of Bush and Cheney in the midst of a million little cuts to civil liberties: "As I raise my head to broadcast my objection / As your latest triumph draws the final straw / Who died and lifted you up to perfection? / And what silenced me is written into law.” The righteous anger within the singer tussles with his empathy and belief in love’s ultimate victory against hate. “I Wanted To Be Wrong” follows, a look at the strange contradictions of America revealing themselves in the light of a conservative sea change. Stipe follows a verse about the milk and honey, bread basket bounty of America that he’s enjoyed in a largely privileged life, with the reflection: "Mythology's seductive and it turned a trick on me / That I have just begun to understand.” There’s a diseased streak of greed and inequality winding through it all, and it became impossible to turn your eyes from.

These tracks flourished a bit more on tour, out of the stifling studio environment that lead Peter Buck to describe the results as "a bunch of people that are so bored with the material that they can't stand it anymore.” There’s a heavy focus on the Sun songs throughout the band’s first live album, the straight-forwardly-titled R.E.M. Live (#199). Not a huge surprise, as it was recorded in Dublin during the tour supporting what would end up being their last studio release for four years. Everyone is in fine form on those maligned songs, but the exciting inclusions are performances like “I Took Your Name,” in a recording that made me take notice of that gloriously surreal kiss-off song I had ignored in the back half of Monster. That qualifies as the most obscure pick in a setlist that reliably digs up the hits and a few fan faves. My favorite moment might be the soulful intro to “Walk Unafraid,” just Michael Stipe’s voice over sustained church organ, before the rest of the band crashes in.

Where Warner Bros’s In Time compilation had served me as a helpful primer, And I Feel Fine… (#198), released 3 years into my assured R.E.M. fandom, was worth it for the remastered versions of I.R.S. Records tracks that only existed on 80’s-era CD’s. The rarities were a major draw for the 2-disc version, though it feels like a bit of a joke now, in the light of our current Everything Streams! age (just check out the literally hundreds of b-sides and alternate mixes and live recordings on Spotify or iTunes). But you get new liner notes, as any physical media fan will stump for, and there’s a personal curation hook to the deep cuts selected by all four original band members.

After recovering from the loss of Bill Berry’s contributions, and in the light of their first truly disappointing LP, R.E.M. took a look at their past to gain insight into a bold future. It wouldn't last long, but it would be on their terms.

#R.E.M.#michael stipe #peter buck #mike mills #up #reveal #around the sun #walk unafraid #at my most beautiful #leaving new york #rock #pop #music blog #rock music #cd cover #cd collection #album art #album cover

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gigslist · 5 years ago

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Woodstock Artist's Pay 1969

How Much Woodstock Performers Were Paid 50 Years Ago — and Who's the Richest Star Now Source: https://finance.yahoo.com/news/heres-much-woodstock-performers-got-193016216.html

Before Woodstock was a cultural phenomenon, it was a financial fiasco.

Organizers behind the legendary music festival in upstate New York, which celebrates its 50th anniversary this summer, said they wound up $1.3 million in debt after the historic 1969 event—roughly $9 million in today’s dollars. But they eventually broke even years later thanks to album and movie ticket sales.

In addition to basic problems like miles of traffic jams and a lack of sanitation and food for a colossal crowd estimated at over 400,000, Woodstock organizers failed to adequately fence in the concert area. As a result, many fans attended without paying for admission — which was $18 for the three-day festival, the equivalent of about $125 today. That meant festival producers had even less money than expected to pay Woodstock’s performers, several of whom reportedly demanded twice their usual pay rate, upfront.

How much did bands get paid for playing at Woodstock in 1969? The amounts varied widely, according to generally accepted reports that have surfaced over the years and trace back to an old story in Variety. The disparity in some of the paychecks is dramatic: Woodstock headliner Jimi Hendrix was paid over 20 times higher than another guitar icon, Carlos Santana, who was mostly unknown at the time.

Woodstock organizers were inclined to pay top dollar to artists like Hendrix, Creedence Clearwater Revival, and Jefferson Airplane because they were desperate to put well-known talent on the bill. Leading up to the festival, top acts like the Rolling Stones, Led Zeppelin, The Doors, John Lennon, and Bob Dylan all declined to perform at Woodstock. Some on-the-spot improvisation was also necessary for Woodstock producers: In order to get stars like Jimi Hendrix on stage, organizers reportedly convinced a local bank to open up after hours during the festival and took out an emergency loan.

Here’s how much performers were paid for playing at the original Woodstock festival in 1969, along with some updates on who is the richest rock star now.

Jimi Hendrix: $18,000

In the two years before Woodstock, Jimi Hendrix had put out three studio albums that each reached the top 5 best-seller list in the U.S.: “Are You Experienced,” “Axis: Bold as Love,” and “Electric Ladyland.” The latter peaked at No. 1 on Billboard in late 1968 and remained in the charts for 40 weeks.

So it was certainly justified that Jimi Hendrix was billed as the overall headliner at Woodstock in 1969, and that he commanded the highest paycheck of all performers. Hendrix was paid $18,000 for appearing at Woodstock, which is the equivalent of about $125,000 today.

There was also a clause in his contract stipulating that no one could perform after Jimi Hendrix at the festival. Because there were so many delays and miscues at Woodstock, Hendrix didn’t wind up on stage until the morning of day four of the three-day festival, Monday, August 18, 1969. By that time, the vast majority of people had left — meaning that most fans didn’t even see the Woodstock headliner perform, including his legendary version of “The Star-Spangled Banner.” Side note: His performance at Woodstock represented the only Grammy nomination Jimi Hendrix received while he was alive, and he didn’t win.

Blood, Sweat & Tears: $15,000

Blood, Sweat & Tears had a No. 1 album in 1969, and the band’s biggest hit, “Spinning Wheel,” was peaking during that summer. That’s why Blood, Sweat & Tears received the second-highest paycheck at Woodstock, $15,000 — or $105,000 in today’s dollars.

Creedence Clearwater Revival, Joan Baez: $10,000 Each

The folksinger and activist Joan Baez was 28 years old and six months pregnant when she took the stage at 3 a.m. on the first night of Woodstock. Decades later, she told the New York Times that she had been incredibly shy, suffered severe stage fright, and had no idea what songs to perform.

“Not everybody knows me, and my music isn’t rock ’n’ roll,” Baez recalled, noting that she didn’t really fit in at the scene in upstate New York. “I was a political activist, and there were not many of those at Woodstock.” Baez wound up singing the traditional spiritual “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot” and Bob Dylan’s “I Shall Be Released,” among other songs.

The Woodstock setlist for Creedence Clearwater Revival, led by singer-songwriter John Fogerty, includes many classics still played on the radio today, including “Born on a Bayou,” “Suzie Q,” “Bad Moon Rising,” and “Proud Mary.” CCR went through an ugly breakup in the early 1970s, but the band’s full performance from 50 years was finally just released as an album this summer, “Live at Woodstock.”

Joan Baez and Creedence Clearwater Revival were among the highest-paid performers at Woodstock, receiving $10,000 each, or about $70,000 today, after adjusting for inflation. According to Celebrity Net Worth, John Fogerty has an estimated net worth of $70 million today, while Joan Baez’s net worth is roughly $11 million.

Jefferson Airplane, The Band, Janis Joplin: $7,500 Each

In the next tier of highest-paid Woodstock performers come some of the top music stars in the late 1960s, who received $7,500 apiece (equivalent of about $52,000 today). Janis Joplin put on what many consider her breakthrough performance at the 1967 Monterey Pop Festival, and two years later at Woodstock she played crowd favorites like “Piece of My Heart” and “Ball and Chain.” Both Janis Joplin and Jimi Hendrix died due to drug overdoses a little over a year after Woodstock.

The Band, best known at that point for their song “The Weight” and for playing regular as Bob Dylan’s band, were actually locals who lived in the area where the festival was held. “After three days of people being hammered by weather and music, it was hard to get a take on the mood,” The Band’s Robbie Robertson wrote in Rolling Stone 20 years after Woodstock. “We played a slow, haunting set of mountain music. We lived up there, near Woodstock, and it seemed kind of appropriate from our point of view.”

Jefferson Airplane, the quintessential 1960s San Francisco psychedelic rock band, were well-known for top 10 hits like “Somebody to Love” and “White Rabbit” when Woodstock took place. Part of band, led by singer Grace Slick, was reborn as the Starship in the 1980s, when it released pop songs that topped the charts like “We Built This City” and “Nothing’s Gonna Stop Us Now.” Grace Slick has an estimated net worth today of about $20 million, per Celebrity Net Worth.

Richie Havens, Sly & the Family Stone, Canned Heat, The Who: $6,000 – $7,000 Each

A band called Sweetwater was supposed to be the opening act at Woodstock, but they were stuck in traffic when the festival was scheduled to start. Richie Havens and his bandhad driven up to the festival site from New York City early, and after hopping on a short helicopter ride to land near the stage, they wound up opening Woodstock on Friday evening. Havens played for nearly three hours, and his extended setlist included several Beatles songs and the memorable improvisation known simply as “Freedom.”

Of the other Woodstock acts that received reported payments of $6,000 to $7,000 ($42,000 to $49,000 today), the best known by far is The Who. A 1969 report by Rolling Stone said that The Who’s manager collected $11,200 before the band’s performance at Woodstock, but that’s believed to be an exaggeration. The Who singer Roger Daltrey did confirm, however, that it demanded upfront payment before the band began its set at 5 a.m., after waiting around backstage for some 14 hours.

“Woodstock wasn’t peace and love,” Daltrey recalled to the New York Times recently. “People were screaming at the promoters, people were screaming to get paid. We had to get paid, or we couldn’t get back home.”

The British band, which released “My Generation” in 1965 and the historic rock opera “Tommy” in 1969, was still a big enough deal in 2010 to be asked to play the Super Bowl halftime show, and they are working on a new album expected to be released in 2019. The two core members of The Who, Roger Daltrey and Pete Townshend, are probably the richest Woodstock performers still alive today, with net worths estimated at $85 million and $105 million, respectively.

Sly & the Family Stone, whose music blended funk, soul, and rock and has been sampled abundantly by rap artists like Dr. Dre, A Tribe Called Quest, and Arrested Development, received $7,000 for performing at Woodstock in 1969. They didn’t go on stage until 5 a.m., band member Rose Stone recalled later in an NPR interview. “The sun started to come up and all of a sudden all we could see was just a sea of people,” she said. “I think it was like an apex of our group.”

Arlo Guthrie, Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young: $5,000 Each

The second time that Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young played live as a band, it was in front of hundreds of thousands of people at Woodstock. Neil Young had recently been asked to join the trio of David Crosby, Stephen Stills, and Graham Nash, who had released their first album in the spring of 1969. At Woodstock, the famously prickly Neil Young refused to be filmed and most of the band’s acoustic set featured just Crosby, Stills & Nash, who opened with their epic “Suite: Judy Blue Eyes.”

Arlo Guthrie, the song of folk music icon Woody Guthrie, was only 19 years old when he played at Woodstock. He was expecting to perform on the festival’s second day, and he indulged in plenty of champagne backstage on the first night because there was no food and nothing else to drink, Guthrie later recalled. Then Woodstock organizers suddenly asked Guthrie to play on the first night. “Richie Havens has been up there playing for hours. There’s nobody else and you’ve got to play now,” they told him.

Guthrie played a short set, and by most accounts it wasn’t a particularly good performance. He didn’t play his best-known song, the 18-minute-long antiestablishment saga “Alice’s Restaurant,” which was released in 1967.

Arlo Guthrie and Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young were paid $5,000 each for playing at Woodstock, about $35,000 today. Neil Young, who has had decades of success as a solo artist and leader of other bands outside CSNY, is now the richest star in this group, with a net worth currently estimated at $65 million.

The Grateful Dead: $2,500

Perhaps no band is more closely associated with the hippie movement and the kind of crowd drawn to Woodstock than the Grateful Dead. But members of the band admit that the Grateful Dead’s set at Woodstock, played while the rain poured down and consisting of only five songs, was a disaster.

“The stage was wet, and the electricity was coming through me. I was conducting! Touching my guitar and the microphone was nearly fatal,” the Grateful Dead’s Bob Weir told Rolling Stone. “It was probably the worst set we’ve ever performed. And to have performed it in front of a crowd that size was not an altogether fulfilling experience.”

Santana: $750

Here’s the rest of the low end of the payscale at Woodstock in 1969, according to Variety:

• Ravi Shankar: $4,500 • Johnny Winter: $3,750 • Ten Years After: $3,250 • Country Joe and the Fish: $2,500 • Incredible String Band: $2,250 • Mountain: $2,000 • Tim Hardin: $2,000 • Joe Cocker: $1,375 • Sweetwater: $1,250 • John Sebastian: $1,000 • Melanie: $750 • Santana: $750 • Sha Na Na: $700 • Keef Hartley: $500 • Quill: $375

Of these artists, two performances in particular stand out for how memorably they played — and how little they were paid. The British singer Joe Cocker’s iconic version of the Beatles’ “With a Little Help From My Friends” closed his set and probably summed up the vibe at Woodstock as well as any song.

Then there’s Santana. Few people at Woodstock had heard of Santana, which in the summer of 1969 was a mostly unknown band led by 22-year-old Carlos Santana, a guitar phenom who performed in his teenage years at bars and strip clubs in Tijuana, Mexico. Santana received $750 for playing at Woodstock — about $5,000 in today’s dollars, and 24 times less than Jimi Hendrix’s paycheck — and it was money well spent. Carlos Santana was high on mescaline when the band took the stage on Saturday afternoon, and by most accounts they blew people’s minds with electrifying performances of songs like “Evil Ways” and “Soul Sacrifice.”

Three decades after Woodstock, Carlos Santana was an established rock god and released the album “Supernatural,” featuring collaborations with the likes of Lauryn Hill, Eric Clapton, and Rob Thomas. The Santana-Thomas song “Smooth” became one of the biggest-selling singles of all time, and Santana collected multiple Grammy Awards in 1999. Today, Carlos Santana is 72 years old and has a net worth estimated at $50 million.

#woodstock 1969 concert #free gif animations #free animated gifs #free giphy #janis jopln #greatful dead at woodstock #how much to musicians get paid #concert industry tips

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drtanstravels · 7 years ago

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*Just a quick note, there was a problem when I saved this post while I was editing it, thus why some of the links might not work and the layout looks a bit odd, beginning at the part about visiting the hacienda that grows roses. I’ve tried, but I just can’t seem to fix it.

Chinese New Year is over for another year and this is a time that Anna and her friends, Pat and Roshini, like to get away for a little bit. If it is a trip to a resort island in Indonesia or Thailand for example, I will usually give it a miss and let them have a girls’ weekend away. However, if it is a unique once-in-a-lifetime location or event, such as our trip at around the same time last year to Denmark and Sweden in order to eat at Magnus Nilsson’s restaurant, Fäviken, then I’m just going to have to tag along.

Obviously, this most recent trip fits into the latter category, otherwise you would just be sitting there, staring at a blank webpage with a few ads on it. On this particular occasion we would be traveling to Ecuador for a trip that would take place in three parts:

A four-night train trip from Quito, high up in the Andes, down to the city of Durán in the Guayaquil area, located on the coast.

Doing a three-night cruise through the Galápagos Islands.

Spend three nights in Amsterdam, Netherlands en route back to Singapore.

Quite often I get a song stuck in my head when we are traveling so it seemed pretty apt that we were going to be spending the following two weeks in South America and I had randomly heard this song somewhere, installed the earworm and just couldn’t stop singing it for the entirety of our trip (there is an English version, but the Spanish one is more worth it just for the video alone):

That suit is giving ol’ Georgie a rather severe testicle separation in that clip! If you’re like us and don’t speak Spanish, here is the chorus in English:

Una paloma blanca I’m just a bird in the sky Una paloma blanca Over the mountain I fly No one can take my freedom away

“No one can take my freedom away,” yet ironically, that singer would probably have a reasonably difficult time legally staying in the United States at the moment. Anyway, this post is focussing on the first part of our holiday, the train journey, so a little bit of information about that particular leg of the trip from the e-mail we received from Tren Ecuador about our little rail adventure, the “Train of Wonders:”

Our journey begins in the northern Andes of Ecuador, in the valley of Otavalo, as we wind our way through traditional villages to meet craftspeople and enjoy a visit to a rose plantation. Venturing south from Quito, we travel through the famous “Avenue of the Volcanoes,” passing such giants as Cotopaxi and Chimborazo – the closest point on the planet to the sun. After a visit to the truly authentic Andean market of Guamote, we make our way to warmer climes, zig-zagging down the mythical “Devil’s Nose”. After descending the colossal Andes we enter a tropical forest world, then ride through plantations of sugar-cane, rice and cacao, to end our trip in the peaceful plains of the coastal region.

That’s quite a trek and if you’re looking at that map and wondering ‘MSNM’ refers to, it means metres above sea-level. We were all clearly most excited about the Galápagos Islands leg of our holiday (well, maybe except for Pat, but I’ll get to that in the sequel to this post), but this train ride was going to be some fun too. Besides, the night we were to first land in Quito was our seventh wedding anniversary.

Let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves though, getting there is always part of the story and this occasion would be no exception.

Monday, February 12, 2018 Roshini and Pat had traveled to Quito several days before us, however, we were unable to leave until just a few minutes before midnight on Sunday because Anna was returning from a conference in Hong Kong on Sunday morning. Yup, she had already sat in a plane for four hours that day before this trip had even kicked off. Our route was supposed to be a thirteen-hour Business Class flight to Amsterdam, Netherlands, a three-hour layover in the airport, and then another 13-hour Economy flight to Quito, Ecuador. Quito is 13 hours behind Singapore so we were due to land in Ecuador at around 4:00pm local time, giving us plenty of time to get a nice anniversary dinner before catching a quiet night in preparation for the early start we had coming up the following morning. Of course, it doesn’t always work that smoothly. There were no hassles with the Singapore to Amsterdam flight, I managed to sleep for a substantial portion of it and then watched most of season nine of Curb your Enthusiasm when I woke. There weren’t any particular holdups in the Amsterdam airport either, besides not being allowed in the airport lounge due to overcrowding, despite having the appropriate pass. When it was finally time, we made our way down to the gate to board our KLM flight bound for Quito, a process which also went smoothly, but that’s where any semblance of order ended. Once we were aboard we were stuck on the tarmac as, due to the temperature in Amsterdam at the time, our plane required de-icing. Eventually, we were told that the process would be available to us in 30 minutes, an announcement after which I promptly fell asleep, only to wake again, still ground-bound with light snow sprinkling down. After being stuck on the tarmac for two hours, we finally departed. Once in the air it became almost impossible to conceive that KLM is the national airline of the Netherlands for several reasons. First of all, the flight attendants were far too large for their job. I’d previously heard rumours of how Singapore Airlines stewardesses receive only one tailored uniform and are forbidden to gain weight, a theory that is somewhat confirmed by some of the statements I’ve hand-picked from this article published in Singapore’s national newspaper, The Straits Times, and although it seems a little extreme, it is feasible to understand why:

National carrier Singapore Airlines expects its flight attendants to have a body mass index (BMI) within a certain range, and those who exceed it will be given time on the ground to get back in shape, it said.

The airline, which focuses on BMI rather than weight, said such crew members will be “given time on (the) ground to focus on their health and to receive guidance on healthy weight management”. This ensures they are able to meet the physical demands of their duties, it added.

Observers felt it was acceptable for airlines to have requirements for flight attendants to have a certain physique, in order to be able to carry out their duties.

Mr David Leong, managing director of PeopleWorldwide Consulting, said: “The aisle of the plane is constrained, and any large-bodied person will have a manoeuvrability issue along the aisle.”

That final quote from David Leong is a salient one. While some may consider suspending an employee for being overweight a tad discriminatory, it is worth noting that your ability to fit inside your workplace is one of the most important tasks you have, which I guess is why I never became a fighter pilot. Well, my size, plus the fact that I’m also kind of a pacifist who has no idea how to fly. For KLM flight attendants on the other hand, being able to walk down the aisle of the plane wasn’t a huge priority. While it’s generally accepted that the Dutch are the world’s tallest nationality, a flight attendant’s body mass index doesn’t really cut it in this case as, despite being in a healthy weight-range, they are still physically too large to do their job. On our flight to Quito there were two female flight attendants who would bump me with their thighs every time they walked past my seat without a care to give, which was approximately every 15 minutes, making it impossible to sleep. Then there was the male flight attendant whose hips were so wide that he had to to turn sideways to walk down the aisle, resulting in me getting a face-full of Dutch man-ass every time he passed. Admittedly, the crew were really nice, but their constant bumps, nudges and sideswipes got a bit much extremely quickly and remember, this was to be our second 13-hour flight of the day. Add to this the terrible food – meatballs that make the ones available at Ikea seem like the epitome of fine dining, followed by a stale microwaved pizza roll, of which Anna’s was dropped on the floor while being served to her – as well as the terrible, yet random, entertainment choices and the increasingly awful smell coming from the toilets and I was begging to get off this plane when we weren’t even half-way through.

We eventually landed at Mariscal Sucre International Airport after a grand total of 31 hours in transit, took a ride with a psychotic cab driver with a death wish for 45 minutes to the Swissotel in the Floresta area of Quito, checked in and then went for our Anniversary dinner at about 8:30pm. We found a place around the corner called Lo Nuestro for some traditional local cuisine, feasting on prawns, beef tripe stew, and black clam ceviche among other dishes, but it couldn’t be a big night though because of our early start the next morning. Besides, thanks to timezones, it had already been our anniversary for about a day-and-a-half. A few scenes from the first full day of what would become an epic trip:

A woman munching down on a chili in Amsterdam Airport Schiphol

Where we would have our anniversary dinner

Eating some great local dishes

Yup, time for bed.

Tuesday, February 13, 2018 Tuesday was to be the beginning of out trek through the Andes, but despite taking all of the necessary precautions, I still had a mild seizure in my sleep so the day is a bit of a blur. The plan was to meet our guides for the next four days, Marcelo and Alex, as well as our sidekicks on this tour in the foyer of the hotel at 7:00am and spend most of the morning on a bus, then onto a train with a few stops along the way. Getting up wasn’t particularly difficult due to jet-lag so we went and had breakfast in the hotel restaurant before meeting up with our companions on this first four-day leg of our fortnight away. Once we saw who we were traveling with, one thing became immediately clear; we would be the only people on this trip under the age of 60! This train journey has been referred to as the world’s “most challenging” railroad and our counterparts on this trip were mostly train enthusiasts and their wives, hailing mainly from Canada and the UK, as well as a couple from San Antonio, Texas. Anna, Pat, Roshini, and myself, however, were here because it just seemed like a cool thing to do and a great opportunity to cut ourselves off from the rest of the world for a bit and relax.

The first part of our bus ride was a two-hour trip north that took us to the valley of Otavalo in the Imbabura Province, the main attraction being the market that sells products made by the local people:

The indigenous Otavalo people are famous for weaving textiles, usually made of wool, which are sold at the famous Saturday market. Although the largest market is on Saturday, there is a very wide range of wares available throughout the week in the Plaza de los Ponchos, and the many local shops. The shops sell textiles such as handmade blankets, tablecloths, and much more.

During the market’s peak, almost one third of the town becomes full of stalls selling textiles, tagua nut jewelry, musical instruments, dream catchers, leather goods, fake shrunken heads, indigenous costumes, hand-painted platters and trays, purses, clothing, spices, raw foods and spools of wool. As the city has become more of a tourist attraction, many of the goods sold in the markets are mass-produced in nearby factories and sold in the market by middle-men.

We spent a substantial amount of time walking around the market and Anna is the master negotiator so she haggled her way to some bargains for us. Obviously, the market wasn’t quite as bustling on a Tuesday as to what you’d expect it to be on a Saturday, but there was still plenty of great stuff available, including the two pipes I ended up purchasing, as well as the scarf that Anna bought. I had also forgotten how small a lot of South Americans are; I’ve lived in Asia for over a decade now and, although a major stereotype about Asians is that they are short, the average native South American is tiny, as you will see, so several locals felt the urge to come and have photos taken with me in the market. Anyway, a bit of what we saw:

Looking out of one window of our hotel room…

…and the other

Anna, Pat, and Roshini hunting for bargains

A nearby mountain behind a random bus (not ours)

I bought two of the pipes on the right

Anna in front of a stall

A wine bottle inside a hoof

Before long it was time to continue our journey, this time to the San Roque Train station where we were greeted by a traditional Ecuadorian band. We boarded our train and were given lunch as we made our way down to the small town of Atuntaqui, a place I just found out is the sister city of Sunchon in North Korea! The entire area is renowned for its textiles, especially the textile market, so we all stopped off at the Museo Fabrica Imbabura [translated from Spanish]:

MUSEUM “IMBABURA TEXTILE FACTORY”: The English and German machinery that dates back to the last century (1900-1925) distributed throughout the different sections: fulling, carding, spinning, weaving, dyeing, among others, that in visit to them is impossible not to imagine going back to that time and feel a deep admiration for our ancestors, because only to understand how to raise that machinery from the port, 400 km away between coast and mountain range, under the transport conditions of that time, it must have been a epic.

We were taken on a tour of what was once the factory floor, the now-retired blue-collar Canadian men feeling the need to knock and bang on every surface to make sure it met their high structural standards. Sure, what we were told about everyday life working in the factory and looking at all of the vintage looms and machinery was interesting enough, but I wish they had’ve focussed more on these types of facts [translated from Spanish]:

The Imbabura Textile Factory operated from 1924 to 1965, the year in which it was closed after the death of one of its administrators, who was attacked by a mob of workers who claimed for their rights after they were subjected to work under a system of exploitation. There were forged several trade unionists who defended the highest rights of the working class.

That’s right, the new owner of the factory was dragged out into the street and stomped to death by the workers! We were told this by Marcelo when he was giving us the history of the factory, however, this stop off would’ve been a lot more interesting if these type of details were the focal point, as opposed to just a tidbit of information, but our Ecuadorian tour was only getting started. It was also strange, some might say perhaps even a little ironic, that inside the museum there was a picture of Fidel Castro mounted next to a photograph of John F. Kennedy. Take a look for yourself:

Me posing in front of the band at the train station

The band doing their thing

A statue out the front of the museum

A guy on an old loom doing his thing

The end result is really nice!

The toilets they used in the factory back in the day. Probably one of the many reason’s the employees revolted.

Why was this hanging next to…

this?

Soon we were back on the train and on to probably the highlight of the train tour for me. We ended up in the village of San Antonio de Ibarra, just south of the city of Ibarra. Ecuador lays on the edge of a tectonic plate, making it prone to earthquakes and volcanoes, a theme you will notice throughout our tour. A large earthquake destroyed most of Ibarra on August 16, 1868 and the city was re-settled in 1872 meaning that the public buildings and churches needed to be rebuilt. It was most likely for this reason that a lot of the religious iconography in Ecuador is hand-carved out of wood, as opposed to stone or marble, but it is almost impossible to tell the difference. In fact, the work is so good that the Pope even owns a piece:

San Antonio is famous for its wood artisans. For this is called also the Capital of wood artisans. Pope Francis, during his July 2015 visit to Ecuador, received a wood sculpture made by Jorge Villalba, born in San Antonio, as a gift.

There are dozens of these workshops throughout the town, but unfortunately, the website for the specific workshop and showroom we visited isn’t working at the moment so it is difficult to get any exact details. We were taken on a tour of the workshop that showed the many stages of making these masterpieces out of cedar. It all begins exactly as you’d expect, with a person roughly hacking away at a block with a hammer and chisel, then smoothed out with a rasp, then a file, and finally sandpaper. The arms and hands of each piece are carved separately due to the difficulty and detail involved in creating the hands, as anyone who has even tried to draw an anatomically correct hand would be aware, and attached later. The pieces are then painted and gold leaf is added before the final step in the larger pieces, the creation of the eyes. The eyes are made from the white glass of old fluorescent light tubes, moulded into shape and the pupils painted on the reverse side. The finished product is simply stunning:

Entering the workshop

For how time-consuming this must be, they churn out a lot of them

Doing work

Work in progress

An arm

A few hands

a few more pieces on the go

Almost done

Don’t worry, you’ll read about this one soon

Shroud of Turin

A finished product, san hands

The crucifixion

Several other finished pieces

We were handed a finished piece, this time a bust, to pass around and these look so much like statues carved from stone that one woman in our tour remarked, “they’re light, aren’t they?”, completely forgetting she was holding a chunk of painted wood. One of the more redneck Canadians in our group wrongly thought it would be amusing to ask if the three hooded characters (pictured, above) were of the Ku Klux Klan, a question which was met with an uncomfortable silence, then a “no,” followed by which religious figures they actually were. There’s one in every group.

After the wood-carving workshop we had a look around a train station before jumping back on the bus again and were taken to a hacienda in Cayambe that is one of the largest cultivators and exporters of roses. ‘Hacienda’ is a term you’ll be seeing a lot in this post so I guess it is best to clarify the definition first:

hacienda (n.) [hah-see-en-duh; Spanish ah-syen-dah]

A large landed estate, especially one used for farming or ranching.

The main house on such an estate.

A stock raising, mining, or manufacturing establishment in the country.

The hacienda on this particular occasion was the Hacienda la Compania, the house of which was a giant mansion from the early 19th century. We were fed some great local food and taken on a tour of the facilities, mainly a giant greenhouse where the roses are grown, but, being the day before Valentine’s Day, they were extremely busy and we couldn’t help but feel like we were in the way. Still, a quick glimpse:

Outside a church near the hacienda

Some roses inside the hacienda

And more

Anna with some roses

Roshini and Anna chowing down

Still more roses

The told us they purposely dye these ugly roses for the Chinese market

The roses never end!

At least they name them after decent bands

It had been a pretty packed day so we boarded the bus again and headed back to Quito. There were two options for accommodation on this tour, Standard or Gold class, and the four of us, as well as Jim and Charlotte, the couple from San Antonio, Texas forked out a little extra for Gold class throughout the tour. That meant on this occasion we would be spending the night at the Plaza Grande Hotel, which is described on the Tren Ecuador website as:

In the heart of Quito UNESCO World Heritage old quarter and with five centuries of history, Hotel Plaza Grande stands on the corner from the Presidential palace and is built on the lot that was originally granted to Francisco Pizarro, Governor of Peru. The original building, the first colonial house built in the newly founded city of Quito, suffered multiple renovations during its long history, being home to different wealthy families.

In the early XXth century it housed the first luxury hotel in the city. After a careful restoration it re opened its doors in 2007 offering 15 luxury suites with breathtaking views of the city’s historical quarter, a renowned restaurant, a spectacular terrace and a well-stocked cellar.

The Hotel Grande Plaza definitely didn’t disappoint and due to a combination of jet-lag and such a busy day, that extra comfort was definitely a welcome relief. We were in bed quite early, it was just a shame that we’d only be spending one night here:

Arriving back in Quito

Looking one way down the street out the front of the hotel…

…and the other

Just part of our room

Someone seems pleased

Part of the view from our balcony

looking the other way

Wednesday, February 14, 2018 It was another 7:00am start, however, getting up on time wasn’t an issue due to the joy that is jet-lag. Falling asleep the previous night wasn’t difficult for either of us, we were both exhausted, it was remaining asleep that was the problem. Anyway, we got up, had breakfast, took the bus to Quito’s Chimbacalle station, looking around the area a bit before boarding the train. We were welcomed aboard with a glass of champagne each and were briefed on what was going to happen over the course of the day, but the champagne wasn’t a particularly good option for all of us. Pat had decided not to drink so Anna had hers as well, a move she would later regret. Anna and myself had been in the Andes before when we did a trek through the mountains and then visited Machu Pichu in Peru in 2016 and Anna suffered quite badly from altitude sickness on that trip, something that didn’t really affect me for some reason. On that occasion we reached altitudes of almost 4,500 metres (14,700 feet) above sea level and although Quito isn’t quite that high, at an elevation of 2,850 metres (9,350 feet) above sea level it is still up there and is the second-highest capital city in the world, falling behind only La Paz in Bolivia. To put that in perspective, Denver, Colorado is known as “The Mile High City” and sporting teams playing there claim that the elevation impacts their performance, particularly resulting in breathing difficulties and lightheadedness. Denver is only 1,609 metres (5,280 feet) above sea level, or 56% of the altitude at which we were. After about an hour on the train, Anna began to feel sick, Pat is borderline narcoleptic, and Roshini was still jet-lagged too so the three of them all just nodded off as we made our way through the Avenue of Volcanoes until it was time for our next stop. A few of the sights from that morning:

A church near the train station

A statue nearby

Anna, myself, Pat, and Roshini in the kids’ carriage

Leaving Quito

…past a cornfield…

Making our way through the mountains…

…and into a valley

Coca tea made her feel better

Our train was equipped with a fully stocked bar, but I doubt we would be making much use of that until we were out of the mountains. Instead, especially for Anna, it would be coca tea, which is supposed to help relieve the symptoms of altitude sickness. Getting out and walking helps a little too so she’d be fine soon. Our next stop was an Andean hacienda and this one would be interesting for one particular reason — Pat never really grew up with pets so she has a bit of a phobia of animals. Essentially all animals, and this extremely rural hacienda was a giant farm so things could get quite entertaining very quickly. The hacienda was mainly used for raising llamas, but was also the home for Chagras, or Ecuadorian cowboys. These guys were pretty skilled and because it was Valentine’s Day, the first display they put on for us was to ride up and attempt to put a stick through rings which were suspended from a horizontal rope hanging overhead and then give them to the women in the group:

Roshini was one of the lucky ladies to be gifted a ring, but unfortunately she was also required to return it, a policy any recipient of those horrendous multi-cloured roses probably wishes was in place. Next up was several of the chagras roping a calf, something that must be a lot more difficult than it looks!:

We watched some other activities such as bullfighting and were then taken on a tour of the hacienda and this was definitely no new property. The walls were all made of a combination of compressed mud and straw, yet they were actually quite structurally sound, even the now-retired blue-collar Canadians agreed, and had stood the test of time, still standing perfectly today. Anna and Roshini decided to hang out with the llamas for a bit and, although she had handled the presence of animals well, Pat declined the offer to join them:

Chagras upon arrival

Let the show begin

Just thinking about llama stuff

I have wracked my brain and cannot imagine what he could be singing about besides llamas

A ring for Rosh

A few rope tricks

A group of llama farmers

Bullfighting

The hacienda from the outside

Roshini, Anna, and some llamas. No Pat, though.

Llama-skin chaps on the banister

I’m glad I don’t have to shower here

The foundation of the building

Soon we were back on the train and moving again, which meant we were sleeping again, myself included this time, prompting one of the Canadians to ask if we had had a big one the night before, but it didn’t last long. We had to stop briefly in a town while a mechanical problem on the train was fixed, possibly the shredder that mulched anything that went into the toilet once it was flushed, and had seen some people spraying each other with white foam and water in the street. Why? Because it was the end of Carnival in Ecuador and we were also given a taste of it once we were back aboard the train. But what is Carnival?

Carnival is a Catholic holiday that has blended with Andean traditions to become a huge festival. The idea is to express as much craziness as possible before the reflective period of Lent, called Cuaresma in Ecuador. Most Andean communities celebrate Carnival in a small way, with neighborhood parties and lots of troublemaking.Most of the rabble-rousing is good fun and harmless. Be prepared for lots of espuma orcarioca, party foam that will fly at the least expected moments. A more affordable option is water and many people will arm themselves with water guns or toss buckets full of water from rooftops, open windows, and doorways at passersby. The worst is the colored flour. Brightly tinted bread flour is tossed into hair and onto clothing. If you are already wet with party foam or water, the flour becomes immediate sludge, almost impossible to remove.

Drinking is just a part of Carnival. In fact, many parade participants will start drinking before the parade even begins. During the parade, it is not uncommon to find chicha de jora, a fermented drink made from corn, shared along the route. One of the more famous towns to celebrate Carnaval is Guaranda, home to the infamous white liquor called Pajaro Azul, or Blue Bird. It should come as no surprise that this town is also known for the wildest celebrations.

We were also told it was a time when labourers would get drunk, dance, don masks and anonymously prank their bosses, which is what some of the employees aboard the train did. The music started, people in devil masks handed out shots of blue bird (which the girls obviously refused), and then the partying began. I had one of the women with a toy devil try to dance with me, but when she put her arm around me, one of the horns poked me where the sun doesn’t shine. Not particularly pleasant, but I don’t enjoy dancing in general, anyway:

Coming down the aisle

Your assumptions are correct, he wasn’t the partying type

The masks are pretty cool

The doll that Roshini is holding possesses the horn that poked me

Awkward

While we were on our way, our other guide, Alex, kept talking about a section of our track that was called ‘The Devil’s Ear,’ referring to it in near mythical, hushed tones, however, it really just turned out to be simply a bridge. Somewhat anticlimactic, hopefully ‘The Devil’s Nose’ the following day would be a little more impressive, but we had our doubts.

We had one more stop for the day and that was to meet the Last Ice Merchant, a 73-year-old man by the name of Baltazar Ushca who still climbs mountains to chip off glacial ice and sell it at markets for US$5.00 for 60 lb (27.2 kg). He, and many of the locals, believe that the fossilised ice has extra vitamins and minerals, as well as the fact that it takes a lot longer to melt. A little background info:

When Baltazar Ushca started climbing Chimborazo volcano as a child with his father and younger brothers to learn the trade, almost no one knew the summit of the mighty volcano is the closest point to the sun from the center of the earth, and almost no one cared. They would get a very early morning start for a 4-hour climb to the skirts of glacier-covered Mount Chimborazo. After a day of pickaxe hard work, the ice- harvesters would take their six to eight packs per person load down to Riobamba markets. In those days Chimborazo ice was very sought after for food preservation, and also for the famous hand-made ice creams.

With the advent of ice factories and a refrigerator in every kitchen, the ice business became a too dangerous, underpaid job. One by one, the ice merchants left the mountain and found other jobs, until only Baltazar was left. Nowadays, he still climbs every Thursday and Friday with his faithful mules, to carve the ice from the flanks of Taita Chimborazo.

There was a short documentary made about him a few years back which has afforded him a a newfound fame, take a look:

It seems like a prime example of not realising your job is now obsolete, kind of like if you were still the manager of a Blockbuster Video franchise, however, thanks to the documentary, he makes most of his income from tourism and only climbs twice a week now. Uscha speaks a regional dialect, so he told his story to his daughter, who then translated it into Spanish for Marcelo, our guide, who in turn told us in English. We then got to meet Uscha and try some of the handmade ice-cream and I don’t mean to be rude, but I’d be lying if I said he didn’t smell strongly of donkey shit. As for the ice-cream, it didn’t contain any dairy, just churned ice and fruit and it had a bit of a dirt flavour as well, however, he you have to respect a guy who still works that hard at that age in job that is now redundant. You could tell that his daughter was getting a bit tired of this routine though:

Approaching our next stop

Some locals who came out to sing for us

Yes, he is standing on the same level floor as I am

The mountain he climbs for ice

Making the ice-cream, ironically in front of a freezer

Anna and yours truly with our ice-creams. We were offered seconds, but one was enough

Soon it was time to make the last leg of our trip for the day. That night we stayed in another hacienda and ate meat and seafood cooked on a hot stone while a traditional local band played. Good times.

Thursday, February 15, 2018

Another early start, this time about 6:30am. We took a stroll around our hacienda after breakfast and then boarded our train — this time led by a coal-powered steam engine known as the Black Monster– and got moving again. Today wasn’t going to be quite as crazy as previous days, we made our way through the heart of the Andes, passing colourful quinoa fields and enormous cemeteries on our way to making our first stop in the district of Colta, where Spanish conquerors made their first settlement in Ecuador, to switch over to a diesel locomotive. While we were stopped we had a look around another local market that had roasted guinea pigs and incredible looking roast pork available. I was tempted, but it was still early and our lunch was being provided at another market so I just settled for buying a traditional Ecuadorian woollen mask and then we had a look at the Iglesia de Balbanera [translated from Spanish]:

It is the main attraction of Colta, the first church built on Ecuadorian soil, so its beauty is historic. Built by the Spaniards, its style of construction is colonial, its stone façade is the only witness of its history, you can get a fantastic view of the snow-capped Chimborazo.

Apparently, and due to a plaque that stands out in Balbanera, it is believed that this temple is the oldest in the country. Although its date of creation is not known with certainty, it is presumed that it was inaugurated on August 15, 1534.

The Europeans chose this plain to build the first Catholic church of the Royal Audience of Quito, dedicated to the adoration of the Virgin Mary as a souvenir to the Abbey of the Virgin of Valvanera, in the province of Logroño of the Iberian Peninsula.

However, such construction was not the one that currently stands on the left side of the road to Riobamba, but a humble hut of adobe and stone covered with straw and torn down by the cruel earthquake of February 4, 1797, which destroyed much of Riobamba and other populations along the inter-Andean alley.

But that place was already considered “sacred”, so the villagers rebuilt the temple with beautiful architecture and delicate simplicity.

That’s right, the original church was destroyed by an earthquake over 200 years ago, but the locals decided to just put the pieces back together how they best fit in order to rebuild the church! Furthermore, according to our guides, this process has occurred more than once, hence the jumbled and non-linear look of the building’s architecture. As for the interior, it was fully equipped with the wooden sculptures we saw being crafted days earlier:

Just a portion of the enormous cemetary

Guine pigs roasting over an open fire

Damn, that pork looks tasty

The market from a distance

My new mask

Iglesia de Balbanera

The left side of the church’s entrance…

…and the right

Next we were on to one of the more fascinating stops on our tour, the Guamote market, described in our guide for the train tour as “one of the last truly indigenous markets in the Andes.” That description barely even cuts the mustard, but this one should give you a better idea:

The canton of Guamote is the most traditional region in Ecuador. 95% of the population is Indigenous (while in the whole of Ecuador it is only 25%). Guamote itself has about 5,000 inhabitants, but in the mountains surrounding Guamote another 40,000 people live in small communities.

The greatest asset of Guamote is the weekly indigenous market, one of the biggest and most traditional markets in South America. Every Thursday the people from the communities come to Guamote to sell their fruit, sheep, pigs, guinea pigs, cows, hats, clothing,…

Far away from all tourist traps, this is a market by and for indigenous people, one of the most authentic things you can see in Ecuador, and more than that, something you can really experience. This market is an adventure for all your senses, a chaos of smells, colors, sounds and impressions; and smiling and kind faces everywhere. This is the strength of Guamote: its people. The sincerity and friendliness of the people here is impressive. Despite of the big poverty that still exists here, people are very grateful and optimistic.

Upon arrival, we were told by our guide, Alex, that Guamote was pretty much a ghost town any other day of the week, not a whole lot of people live in the town itself, but is bustling on Thursdays when the market is on. It was almost impossible to believe when we saw just how busy the place was, but the crowd was also probably a little larger due to Carnival and the parade being held at the market, as well as the accompanying rodeo in a makeshift stadium built just out of town. As we entered we saw people walking pigs and sheep on leashes and we were given about half-an-hour to wander around through the stalls selling handicrafts, clothing, and food, as well as the parade, before it we were taken into a special building for lunch. Before we left for Ecuador, I had watched an episode of Anthony Bourdain: No Reservations based in this country and he kept saying how good the beef tripe stew was, hence why I had it the night we arrived. It was great, but that was at a restaurant though, the one at the market seemed more “authentic” and I was tempted to try it, however, I do have somewhat of a history of getting food poisoning quite easily and our meals were already provided so I decided to give it a miss. Some people working at the market tend to get a bit offended if you take photos and don’t buy anything, but I managed to get some of those that didn’t seem to mind, as well as the parade:

Just walking my sheep

That looks like a massive pig, but people here are really small

Grillin’ some chicken feet

This little piggy went to market (shit joke, I know)

I guess we’re taking the bus from here

Anna and some fruit

Me with some different fruit

The stew I was referring to

People just milling around

A rather obedient sheep

The parade getting under way

Some dancers

More dancers

This guy went a little too hard, too fast, it was barely noon when I snuck this photo. Also, I’m fairly certain the Oakland Raiders aren’t in the NBA

The makeshift rodeo stadium as seen from the bus

As we were leaving on the bus for our next destination, Alex told us a rather interesting fact as to why the indigenous people of Ecuador wear hats and can be a tad on the nose, such as the Last Ice Merchant was, as well as why they wear hats; it was because Ecuadorians who worked in the haciendas were forbidden to shower, as it meant they intended to flirt so they wore hats to prevent the spread of lice, a tradition many still practice today.

The rest of our trip for the day was to be done by bus, except for our final stop, ‘The Devil’s Nose.’ I didn’t hold out much hope for The Devil’s Nose, due mainly to how utterly shite The Devil’s Ear was, but when we found out a little more information about the Nose, I became more optimistic:

History confirms the Devil’s Nose deserves its name. Work started in 1899, with about 3,000 Jamaicans and 1,000 Puerto Ricans brought in to work on the project. The number of men that died during construction is estimated at around 2,000 making this work pretty much a deathwish.

The goal was to connect the railroad from Quito to Guayaquil and the greatest obstacle to building the railroad was a near-vertical wall of rock, known as El Nariz del Diablo (The Devil’s Nose), which connects Alausi to Sibambe (mid-way between Quito and Cuenca). The engineering solution was to carve a series of tight switchbacks out of the rock, which allowed the train to descend 500 meters by zigzagging ahead past a junction, then backing down the next section, before going forward again to get trains down the rock face.

When it says the train descends 500 metres (1,640 feet), it doesn’t mention that it does so over a distance of just 12 km (7.5 miles). Add in the fact that The Devil’s Nose is one of, if not the most difficult train journeys and ranks in the Top 10 Most Dangerous Train Routes in the World and we could be in for a fun afternoon. We arrived at Alausi train station and took a seat in the vintage boxcars and made the stressful descent deep into the Chanchan River Gorge and back up again, taking in the cloudy, yet breathtaking scenery along the way:

Arriving in Alausi

Alausi from a distance

Pretty close to the edge

The visibility is kind of low, too

Still have quite a way to go

but it is definitely beautiful here

Heading back up

Getting higher…

We went down that mountain in a 100-year-old train!

With Alex and Marcelo

The train in which we did the trek

A giant beetle we found near the station

The Devil’s Nose was supposed to be the most frightening moment of the day, however, that turned out to be the four-hour bus ride to hacienda where we would be spending the night. We had to wind our way through a very thick fog that gave very little visibility in the mountains, some heavy rain and the aftermath of both constant landslides and mini-avalanches that left the road either partially blocked or missing and forcing us to take blind turns on the wrong side of the road, but we eventually made it. Again, Anna and Pat pretty much slept through the whole thing.

Friday, February 16, 2018

It was the final day of our tour, warranting us a well-deserved sleep-in. The hacienda we were staying at on this occasion was a cocoa bean plantation so we learnt about the harvesting of the beans, as well as the chocolate making process and got to try some pretty decent chocolate, of which Anna felt a need to buy a bunch of blocks, all while peacocks walked around the grounds (right).

After lunch we were back on the train and made our final stop before we travel over to the Galápagos Islands, our hotel in the coastal city of Guayaquil. The ride there was spent hanging out and partying with our guides and the staff aboard the train and that night, the four of us grabbed dinner and had a few drinks, the girls chatting amongst themselves while I watched the Celebrity and Rising Stars games of the NBA All-Star Weekend, bringing and end to this leg of our tour.

I would recommend the Tren Ecuador tour to anyone who is heading to South America, especially our ‘Train of Wonders’ tour. The guides are fun and knowledgeable, and the rest of the people you encounter are really helpful and friendly too.

On a side not, one interesting occurrence is that over the course of our tour, people all through Ecuador, both adults and children, got really excited when they saw the train go through their town or by their home and felt the need to wave enthusiastically, getting even more excited when you wave back:

But enough of this epic rant about our train tour, on to stage two of our holiday, the Galápagos Islands!

We packed a hell of a lot into our four-day train tour of Ecuador so I hope you have your reading glasses handy. *Just a quick note, there was a problem when I saved this post while I was editing it, thus why some of the links might not work and the layout looks a bit odd, beginning at the part about visiting the hacienda that grows roses.

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