#savoie transportation

[jtemtsocialmediadude]

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[g-girlshavingfun]

December Prompts

19) A hotel bar - Townsend x Catherine

Shortly before the events of OGSY, Catherine tracks Townsend down for a long overdue catch up. (2,949)

———————————————————————

Edward was nursing a glass of whiskey at the counter, one eye counting the security cameras and their blind spots in the reflection of the glasses, the other on the the hotel bar’s entrance, when he caught a glimpse of fire red hair and felt his heart stop in his chest.

It had been a stressful day already. With MI6 receiving intel from Langley earlier in the week about Joseph Solomon’s association with The Circle of Cavan, he had spent the morning on the phone with the American agency reassuring them of Abigail’s loyalties. He had been furious when he heard they were keeping her for questioning, had immediately gotten in contact to remind them of all the assignments working against The Circle that Abby had been essential in, that Abby had risked her life in. Once he had convinced the morons of her lack of involvement, he had gotten into contact with Abe Baxter to ensure he updated Cameron Morgan’s security detail. With her Mother still detained in the States, and her aunt delayed by her insistence on talking to her sister, MI6 had been left in charge of the teenager’s safety. Edward wasn’t going to let anything happen to that girl on their watch.

Not Abby’s niece.

Now that darkness had fallen over the city, Edward was casing out potential sites where Solomon could be hiding. The Baxters had been concerned that he may try make contact with Cammie while she was in London, while she was outside the confinement’s of her school, and so Edward had worked through what his plan might be, how he may intercept the traitor before he got his hands on the girl. The most direct route from DC to London would be via Heathrow airport, so if the man was half as good an operative as his former friends claimed then he would fly via a diversion into Gatwick or Stansted instead. Working against a clock, the man would want to move quickly, so Edward reckoned he would fly to the former, its direct transport links to Victoria station giving him rapid access to the centre of the city. From there his movements would be anyone’s guess. Perhaps he would follow an operative’s typical handbook, hide out in an inconspicuous motel and move under the cover of night. Or perhaps he would do the opposite, knowing that they would expect discretion from him, and disguise himself as a wealthy socialite making his way through London’s Christmas festivities. That’s why Edward had made his way to The Clermont that evening, would make his way to The Savoy shortly, to determine if Solomon had dared show his face amongst the upper class establishments of the city.

It was there that the glinting red hair caught his eye.

All his muscles seized up under his suit. Teeth grinding together behind a tense jaw, fists clenching under the bar, heart pounding in his chest, he subtly eyed the doorway where the red hair had come from. Pulse racing, he reflected on the last time he saw the woman in person, the beating of the sun overhead, the explosion that rippled through the Argentinian building, the way his throat clogged with fear as he threw himself towards a crumpled body on the ground.

He took a deep breath, filling his empty lungs with something other than dread. Head angled over his left shoulder, he scanned the room for her but came up empty.

It was late, he was tired, he was imagining things. Exhausted from the day’s, the week’s, the month’s activity, his mind was conjuring up the worst possible scenario and taunting him with it.

What if Catherine Goode had found out where Cameron Morgan was spending her Christmas break? What if she had broken through every security measure they had in place to protect the girl and managed to get within a few miles of her location? What if she was here to finish the job she started in Boston, in DC?

What if he was going to have to face her?

Edward was just beginning to relax when he heard a maniacal giggle in his right ear.

“Hello again Eddie.”

The hair on the back of his neck stood on end. His blood flushed with boiling rage. Shivers wrecked through his body as he trembled with tension. He was about to slip off his stool, grab her by her fire red hair and slam her skull against the counter when he felt the unmistakable jab of the barrel of a gun poking into his spine.

“Ah ah ah.” Singsong voice dancing into his ear, she settled a hand on his shoulder, her fingers burning through his suit jacket and scalding the skin underneath. “Not so fast Townsend darling, I need to talk to you.” She pressed her body up against his back, hot breath tickling the hairs around his ear. Swallowing hard, he tried to relax his tense muscles, tried to breathe through the block of rage crushing his chest, tried to stop his hands from wrapping around her throat in this very public environment. Slowly, she pressed her lips to the side of his head, to the shell of his ear, whispered dangerously to him. “I’ll have whatever you’re having.”

The muzzle still firm against his back, he signalled to the bartender, slipped him a twenty in return for the two double whiskeys, told him to keep the change.

Her hand lifted from his shoulder, reaching across his body, scratching her red nails along the base of his neck, taking one glass from the counter and pouring its contents down her throat in a generous gulp. Edward took a modest sip himself. He needed to keep his wits about him.

The gun against his spine traced a picture of a heart along his back and shifted to the side, now pressing tight against his hip. Catherine perched herself on the stool beside him, hooking her ankle around his own sear and spinning him to face her. Grinning at him, she took another sip of her drink, happy to let the silence linger between them for a moment. Schooling his face into a blank stare, he took her in. Blindingly red hair fell in curled ringlets around her pale face, dark eyes sucking the light out of the room around her. Her lips were painted a deep burgundy, eyelids dusted in a silver glimmer that matched the thin chain dangling around her throat. The chain was unfamiliar, but the amethyst pendant was one that a fool he once knew had bought her a lifetime ago. Purple gems dipped past the hollow in her throat, past the bridge of her sternum, hanging deep in the cleavage of her low cut gown. She looked stunning.

God he hated her.

Pulling her lips away from the glass, she set it down on the hotel bar bench and set her elbow down, head resting on her hand as she leant in close enough to choke him with her perfume. “Where’s the girl Eddie?”

He didn’t even flinch. “Where’s Solomon?”

The smile that previously danced across her face dropped, mood switching from manic to enraged in a split second. A glare settled across her expression. “Where,” the gun in his side repositioned itself to sit in-between his ribs, “is the girl?”

“You’re a smart psychopath Catherine, surely you know that no matter how many bullets you put in me I’m never going to give you her location.”

“Hmm I suppose not.” Voice distant, breathy, she sighed in mock disappointment. Gulping down the rest of her drink, she stood from her brief perch on the barstool and removed the gun from his side. Her hips swayed as she began walking away, her words a gleeful song which she sang over her shoulder. “Maybe I’ll have to put them in your girlfriend instead.”

His blood boiled over.

Unable to force any air into his lungs, his brain was suddenly overwhelmed by the image of Abby collapsed on the ground in Buenos Aires, slashes carved into her body from a delicate dagger and a bullet lodged in her hip. By the image of her bleeding out from a gunshot wound in Washington a thousand miles away from him. By the image of Catherine standing over her with a gun, relentless in her glee as she pulled the trigger over and over and-

Storming out of his seat, he followed her purposeful strides to a dark hallway next to the bar, snatched her wrist out of the air and squeezing tight until she dropped the gun. He pulled her body towards his, looming over her as his chest heaved and his body trembled, overcome with anger.

Her eyes scanned up and down his frame, tongue teasing at her lips.“My my, that did get your attention.”

Enraged, he threw her up against the wall and pressed his arm against the hollow of her throat, squeezing tight until he could feel her pulse stagger beneath his arm. She didn’t even struggle. Didn’t put up a fight. Just painted a large grin across her face and giggled breathlessly as he growled at her. “Shut your mouth.”

“How is your precious Abigail? I heard she had a little meeting last month with my friend.” He pressed his arm tighter against her throat, enjoying the way the colour dripped from her face. Deprived of air, her words were raspy as they peeled out of her mouth. “You two are so cute together you know. If you guys ever want some company-” A pained gasp for air cut her off, Edward’s arm impossibly tight against her neck.

In that moment, he truly thought he was going to kill her.

Then he felt a cool knife press against his groin and weakened his grip ever so slightly. Oxygen rushed into her brain with a delighted giggle, the pressure of the blade on his femoral artery lessening a tad. She grinned at him, pleased with the little game she had derived.

Something in his eyes must have given away his intent. “You’re a smart boy Townsend, surely you know that you’ll bleed out long before you manage to kill me.”

He hated her.

“What are you doing here Catherine? What do you want?”

They must’ve made an interesting picture. His chest heaving, face painted in a glare, looming over her with his forearm against her neck. Her body pressed close to his, lips stretched in a wicked smile, hand poised between his hip and his thigh. She hummed, vibrations in her throat rippling along the hairs on his arm.

“You’ve been offered Joe Solomon’s position at The Gallagher Academy for Exceptional Young Women.” It was a fact, not a question. Somehow Catherine knew about the job offer he had received a mere two days ago even though he had yet to mention it to anyone. “What I want, is for you to take it.”

“Why would I take the job if that’s exactly what you want me to do?”

“Because you’re obsessed with me.” She morphed her face into something familiar from almost two decades ago. Dainty smile and fluttering eyelashes, a trustworthy face, he once thought. Unimpressed with his lack of a reaction, she rolled her eyes at him, ran her free hand up his chest. “Because we both want the same thing.” He blinked at her. “We both want Joe Solomon found.”

He blinked again. Surprised. “You don’t know where he is.”

“Him or the girl, though I imagine they’re both nearby or you wouldn’t be here.”

“What do you want with Solomon?” The man was on her side, whatever she wanted from him surely she didn’t need Edward’s help to get it.

“Just a little chat. Don’t you worry Eddie, I’ll give him back once I’m done with him”

“When I get Joe Solomon you won’t be getting anywhere near him.”

Her hand rose from his chest to caress his jaw. “You’re so cute when you’re wrong.” There was that face again, eyelids batting at him.

“What do you want with Solomon?”

“You’re going to take the job, because it’s your best shot at catching him.” She ignored his question the second time he asked it, instead bringing the topic of conversation back round to his job offer. Smirk pulling at her lips, she dropped her voice to a deep drawl, a poor imitation of his accent and the words he once spoke to her a lifetime ago. “To track a fox, you start at its den.”

“I can track a fox without resorting to teaching children how to chase their own tails.”

She laughed freely at that, no doubt delighted by his dismissal of her former school. Hand wrapping around his collar, she pulled him in close, pressed her lips against his ear in a breathy whisper. “What makes you so sure?”

“I’ve caught you haven’t I?” He leaned away from her, forearm still firm against her throat.

Another laugh, louder this time. Eyes alight with wicked glee she pulled him back again, their mouths nearly touching as she grinned in amazed amusement. “What makes you think that?”Scoffing, he looked pointedly at the restraint she found herself pinned below, her eyes following his. “Oh, that.” Gaze flickering back to his, she tilted her head to the side as she smiled knowingly at him. “You’re going to let me go.”

A bigger fool of a man would’ve laughed in her face. As it was, he was well versed in the insanity of Catherine Goode, was even more experienced in the manipulations of Gallagher graduates and how they always seemed to be at least three steps ahead of him. Instead of amusing him, her words made him uneasy. Her confidence unnerved him. Her smile set his teeth on edge.

“Why would I do that?”

“Are you sure you want to know Eddie?”

No.

“Why would I do that?”

Smile widening, thrilled that he was still playing her game, she shifted her head ever so slightly to the side, nodding at whoever had caught her eye in the hotel bar. “You see that girl over there?” His gaze flickered briefly to the side, mind just about registering the young blonde who lingered at who he assumed to be her father’s side. Hair pulled back in two braids, her head reached no higher than the man’s waist. She wore a patterned Christmas dress and carried a little black handbag on her shoulder. Edward guessed she was about eight years old. “There’s a grenade in her bag set to explode in 60 seconds.”

He looked back at her in horror.

The smile had slipped off her mouth, a serious blankness taking over the expression on her face, but a knowing glint of amusement still lingered in her eyes. She removed the knife from his groin. “To track a fox, you start at its den Townsend.” Paralysed by shock, he didn’t even react as she pulled his arm away from her neck, pushed herself onto her toes and pressed a poisoned kiss to the corner of his mouth. “30 seconds.”

Tearing himself away from her, he turned and crossed the bar in a matter of strides, lunging towards the little girl as she tugged on her father’s jacket. Ignoring the shouts of protest from around him, he ripped the bag off her shoulder and fell to his knees beside her, frantically searching through the bag for a ticking time bomb.

Lipgloss. Butterfly hair clips. A hairbrush. Mittens. A chocolate coin.

He turned the bag upside down onto the ground as a hand clamped around the back of his collar, yanking him to his feet and throwing him towards the counter.

There was nothing there.

“What the fuck man?” The girl’s father slammed his hands against Edwards chest, pushing him back into the stools where she had first appeared to ruin his day.

“Sorry.” He croaked out an apology to the man who furiously glared at him, stumbled backward as he cut his gaze to the sniffling little girl who had buried her face in her mother’s dress. “I’m sorry I-” He shook his head. Breathless, heart in his throat, he turned away.

Ignoring the enraged shouts from behind him, he staggered back to the dark hallway where he left her. 16 years ago he thought he loved her. He thought the earth spun and the sun set and the stars shone according to her will.

He worshipped her.

And then he met her. The real her.

Her betrayal, her theft of the secrets he kept locked up in his flat, her unveiling of her true loyalties, had left him a laughing stock in Six, had left him furious at and distrustful of the world around him. She ruined him.

He had been hunting her ever since. Following her across countries and continents, across different agencies and organisations, always half a step too far behind to bring her in. To make her pay for her betrayals, her crimes. Until this day, perhaps the closest he came to her was in Buenos Aires and it wasn’t even by his own design. She had already killed Matthew Morgan by that point, had nearly killed Abby when he failed to get his hands on her, and now she’s targeted young Cameron Morgan. She will stop at nothing until she gets what she wants from her. Unless Edward can stop her. Unless he can finally neutralise her.

The hallway was empty. She had slipped through his fingers again. He fell for her words, her lies, her manipulations again. Anything she did from here on out was on him.

He slammed his fist into the wall.

———————————————————————

Authors note:

Think saying that this is Townsend x Catherine may be a stretch but they’re both here and there’s tension.

So after saying I would get back into posting daily I immediately fell behind again. Oops.

[nattherat96]

I finally finished coloring the villain of my fanfic.

Meet Arnold Abbott (aka. Ol' Despot).

Backstory:

Arnold was one of the patrons who used to frequent the Maribel Hotel and the Marigold Room. He was associated with Asa and had connection with suppliers who purveyed the booze for Marigold.

One of Arnold's subordinates collaborated with the Marigold Gang to transport the booze throughout Missouri. One of his shipments had been sabotaged: the suspects were Mordecai Heller, the Savoys, one of the lesser known Marigolds, or one of his own subordinates.

Since the culprit hadn't been identified or hadn't been held accounted for due to the property damage of Abbott's shipment it caused a rift between him and Asa Sweet and the association had been dissolved. Arnold had withdrawn his support to invest in the Hotel as a whole and gave Lackadaisy an opening to gain a potential ally. Unknown to them that the backer already had his own agenda.

Arnold only accepted to lend his support to Lackadaisy just to spite Asa.

Despite that the Lackadaisy speakeasy struggle to stay afloat, Arnold took the advantage and accepted to support Lackadaisy in exchange to use the caverns of the speakeasy as storage and went as far to offer employment to some of the remaining members of the speakeasy.

It turns out that the alliance with the patron lead to more trouble than what it was worth.

Rocky and Horatio were the only ones who were coerced into moonlighting (though some of the musicians accepted the job in order to sustain themselves). The rest weren't keen with the changes, especially Ivy.

Freckle was kept in the dark about the changes related Lackadaisy/Little Daisy upon Rocky's behest mostly to prevent suspicious bootleggers from finding him or gaining intel about his whereabouts.

In Rocky's opinion, Freckle is the only ace he has on his sleeve and it wouldn't be convenient for the rubes to get a hold of him and ruin the only chance Lackadaisy had to even the plain field.

So this is basically the brief summary of the plot related to These Asters.

[goldenboywrites]

run boy run

The flames from their fire licked at Beckett’s skin. The smoke was heavy in his lungs as he breathed in and out slowly. It had been two weeks since he had been reunited with a small portion of his guard, and they had been hiding in the wilderness ever since. It had been a long six months, and Beckett was half tempted to reach out and touch the flames just to confirm that he was alive. There were fleeting moments where he wasn’t sure - convinced he had died after his brother killed their father, framed Beckett for it, sold him to a hostile neighboring country, and told everyone he had murdered Beckett as a way to avenge their fallen father. 

He hadn’t because Conrad’s bravery was an illusion he gave to the people. He hadn’t even come to place Beckett in chains and drag him out of his quarters. He sent others to do his dirty work. He hadn’t even dared to kill Beckett because he knew that any fight between them wouldn’t rule in his favor; it would be the last mistake his brother ever made. 

From what he was told after he was dragged from the castle and transported by carriage to Keblon, Elias, Beckett’s right hand and more of a brother to him than his actual brother, he had already been suspecting Conrad of foul play. He cozied up to Conrad, proclaimed his loyalty, and waited for him out the details. Conrad did not outright tell Elias, but he said enough that he could connect the dots. Eventually, Elias and a few others who could be trusted turned on Conrad and traveled to Keblon to break out Beckett, their true king. 

“You should eat.” Elias joins Beckett around the fire, shoving a tin plate of roasted venison under his nose. Beckett takes it without thought but doesn’t eat any. Food these days tastes like ash. “Before you head to the temple.” The temple of Selunio. At first, Beckett had refused to entertain altering their journey to include a stop there, but he was no match for Elias’ stubbornness. The temple of Selunio is where it is prophesied that a King from Beckett’s family line shall approach the altar to receive a gift, but only in dire times. When experiencing hardships, his father traveled to his temple for prayer, where he had his grandfather and the Kings from their line. It didn’t make sense for Beckett to risk going to the temple. His brother, by now, must have received word he had broken out of Keblon, and this was the first place he would look for Beckett. But Elias felt it was worth the risk. 

At one point, Beckett loved this prophecy. His ancestors had built the temple and maintained it for decades. He had never been but listened intently to his father’s descriptions of the place. Throughout his childhood, it had been a symbol of protection, history, and guidance. But after all he had been through, Beckett no longer believed in a state of grace. If he were to take back his throne, it would be done by his own hands. 

“Eat,” Elias said with a huff. Well, who was Beckett to disappoint his people? 

___________________________________

The temple of Selunio was far grander than Beckett had ever imagined, and he had imagined this place a lot growing up. Pillars carved with gold inlay reached the ceiling. Statues of the Kings before him guided him as he walked to the altar. To the far right, outside of the temple, there was a natural spring with clear water flowing from a waterfall. His footsteps were the only sound besides the water as he walked across the marble. Only Kings were allowed to enter this sacred temple, so he left Elias and the rest of his men a few miles away. 

Beckett approached the altar quickly, withdrawing his dagger from the strap on his thigh. “Hear me,” He said out loud, his words echoing through the temple. “I am of the Savoy line, the rightful king of Adria. Hear me as I have been called to this temple in my most dire need. I request guidance to return the rightful king to the throne. Take my offering,” He sliced the dagger across the palm of his hand, holding it as blood dripped into a pearl bowl on the center of the altar. “And grant me the gift to take my destiny back.” 

He waited until the throbbing in his hand was too painful to ignore. Beckett sighed and wiped the blood off his pants. He wasn’t ready to return to his men empty-handed. He could only imagine the look of disappointment on their faces. We are going to lose. It had been an ever present thought in his mind. One that made him want to give up the throne entirely. I don’t have it in me to lead them anymore. I’ve lost too much of myself. Maybe the gods weren’t listening because Beckett wasn’t cut out for the throne. Maybe it was always supposed to turn in his brother’s favor. 

Maybe he just wasn’t cut out for all of it. 

Beckett sniffled, wiping under his eyes with the back of his hand. He made his way over to the water, tugging off his boots and dipping his feet in. The water was warm and soothing and felt good against his tired bones. He dipped his bleeding hand in next, watching as the red spread throughout the water. He didn’t want to return to his men like this. Elias knew him well enough to see through any mask, and Beckett had difficulty keeping himself from showing his genuine emotions. He felt hopeless, lost, and unworthy of his men’s loyalty and love. “Please,” He begged, tilting his back and looking up at the sky,  “Gods, please help me.”

@magiclwritings

[juneability]

#12dopmas : Day 0

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

Setting up goals for the next 12 days!

Wake up before 8am, go to bed before 11pm.

Read for at least 30min.

Read & take notes on one (entire) academic paper.

Practice an instrument for at least 30min.

Clean/organize a space (different each day).

Current progress:

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

Last night I went to bed at *gulp* 7pm. And then I almost got up at 2am before I thought better of it! Technically this aligns with my goal, but I'd like to be a little less insane about it. 😴

I started reading "On Writing (and Writers)" today, which is a compilation of C.S. Lewis advice on writing. I'm excited to read more, but I realized that you can't exactly binge read advice without diminishment of its value. 👤

I haven't read an academic paper today. I will organize a list I want to read over the next 12 days, and maybe I'll reblog with a "reference" list. 📃

Haven't practiced an instrument yet. I won't be able to play my piano until Friday, because I have to transport it back from the event space I played at yesterday. But let's just say that performing for two hours pretty much covers my back in case I don't get around to guitar, lol 🎹

I plan to organize things from my school backpack, since I will be needing them in a different capacity for the next month. 🎒

Something I'm grateful for:

💿 The CD player my boyfriend gave me for our 1 year anniversary !!!!!! I'm listening to Pourchasser L'Aubre by Caroline Savoie with headphones right now... and ascending to the heavens. Finally I get to live out my physical media dreams. + I'm probably going to buy another CD today :)

[wingingitonwheels]

Temuco Bound

(Callaqui Volcano)

A night in Bates Motel (laughably called Hotel Savoy, which had no staff and left me to my own devices. It hadn’t been heated in months and I waited thirty minutes for someone to let me in), with a very sore tum not allowing me to lie flat, on my side or sleep at all has meant soy muy mal.

The prospect of cycling south didn’t look too good after the most challenging day trying to go south to Collipulli, not even my planned destination for the day but 20 miles north east despite the same mileage. I’d chosen to divert after reaching a road which was converting to a motorway. The wind too picked up to 45km/h and removed the skin from my face and shins. And to continue, to avoid Ruta 5 meant many more unsurfaced route that zig-zagged east and west, making for very slow progress towards Temuco. When you look at cycling heat maps, it’s clear that many just don’t try to avoid it and accept early the inevitability of riding on it. I considered this and hoped if I took this option, the traffic would be much less than further north, where it was necessary at time to find yourself there, where the hard shoulder disappears each time there’s a bridge crossing, and there are many.

After a rotten night of tasting acid reflux and wondering if anyone would break in to what was effectively an abandoned hotel, my tummy sloshed around like a washing machine. And having enquired with four people about transport (the train station still stands but is derelict, no, not this terminus for Temuco, somewhere over there, “I don’t know” from a woman who just got off a bus and demonstrated the other category of people there are in Chile) I finally sat on a coach, preferring to take this as a rest day and not lose time and knew I’d made the right decision. The sun was beating through the coach window and even with the curtain providing shade, I felt hot and nauseous. Every now and then, I’d peer out at Ruta 5 and think how much of Chile cyclists taking this route missed. High hedgerows and screaming brakes, exhaust fumes, just no fun at all. From a bike, you’d miss the cone-shaped and snow-covered volcanoes to the East; there’d be no stopping for that opportunistic photo at the side of the road. You would simply be getting somewhere and getting through it.

Every day has been different. My favourite being Saturday into Sunday, where I spent much time with the beautiful and kind Claudia. Sunday, although hard with climbing and weight was tranquil. Sundays are always the best day to ride as particularly in South America, rest and family time seem important. Leaving people like me to take over the roads.

Monday took me through Concepcion and another run in with testing my fate from the busy fishing town of Tome up steep climbs and dangerous roads through the city. Annoyingly, that was probably the best point to try and sort out my broken camera, only then it wasn’t clear what the issue was. I was spat out into an area reminiscent of a Scottish loch, but this was Rio Bio Bio, also the name of the coach company running the transport I’m on now.

Tuesday. What A Day! No one can tell me cycle touring is boring. It doesn’t seem to matter where I go, every day is a roller coaster of emotion! The area between Santa Juanta and Collipulli seems to be one that is constantly exposed to wind. I’ve never seen so many wind turbines or got so close. Each time a blade came low and near, it sounded like a jet plane taking off. And love them or hate them, Chile is embracing alternate energy sources. By 2030, the country aims to achieve 70% renewable energy from wind and solar. By comparison, the UK target is 30-45% and USA, 80%. It’s hard to know what to make of these figures by comparison but Chile I believe will reach their target. It’s an incredibly green and fertile country from Santiago south.

Having taken a diversion, one which Google Maps or any cycle routing app didn’t recommend, no matter how many pins I put in to route, the short section of tarmac simply stopped providing a reason as to why until then the road was so quiet. Then came thirty miles of mixed, unpaved road: compacted rocks and mud, loose gravel and dirt, smooth and slightly moist clay and the steepest bank of gravel I’ve ever encountered. So steep that in donning my trainers, I still slid downwards as I found how best to also keep traction and push/pull Martini upwards. You’d think the logical method would be to hold the handlebars and simply push. But I found one hand on the handlebars pushing and another on the seat post pulling worked best. We all made it up, and shortly after, I arrived in a small village called Mininco. There wasn’t much there but according to Google, accommodation on every corner. I started door knocking. Three attempts and each owner said “completa” which I simply didn’t believe. There was nothing there! I mournfully remounted Martini, not wanting to put on my cycle shoes in protest, and began a slow trudge on another unpaved road to what eventually ended up as Collipulli. As reluctant I was to keep moving, the rewards were great along the way. The road ran parallel to an old railway track, both running parallel to the Andes. Because of the road’s elevated position, above a long deep valley, the snow-covered tips of the Andes were just visible. I had nothing but birds for company. I imagined that really, the pace I was going was little faster or strenuous than a walk with Nyla, my dog. But oh so beautiful.

Bates Motel was the icing on the cake of a very memorable day. As crappy as it was, in terms of randomness, it was fitting to finish wearing all my clothes in bed, walking through reception in no more than a towel to get to the only shower with sometimes scalding hot water and then freezing cold, and to fear for my life as my tummy ate itself up from the inside. Happy days!

I hope to sort my camera out in Temuco. It may mean a new camera and sending this one back. That’s a large pill to swallow, so we will see!

As for what’s next, I will probably find public transport down to Puerto Montt tomorrow. I’m struggling with this a little because there are some incredibly beautiful areas between Temuco and Puerto Montt. I want it all! But it will take three days and now recovering from a bug, it could leave me exhausted before I begin what was the original start to this plan. I have a day to mull it over.

Never have I written a blog with so few photos! But that’s because I’ve been in bed for 24 hours, so will be back on it today. Viewfinder or not. Although it’s very foggy here today…the descent into the southern abyss. The weather is still looking a bit on the old dodge side heading south…here we go…

[citizenscreen]

On his way to entertain the troops in Germany, Bob Hope stops to give an autograph to a woman of the Motor Transport Corps outside the Savoy Theatre in London in July 1945.

[jojobegood1]

Transport du 27 avril/ Sidi, elle aussi a le droit à une seconde chance…Galga à adopter via LSF

🇨🇵⚠️💘🐕⚠️ URGENTISSIME ADOPTEZ SVP ⚠️ RESCAPÉE ESPAGNE

[adjascent]

Places Stay In London

Planning potential visit to Europe. 

- Via Reddit. London accom suggested:  Hub by Permier Inn. Goodge street is central. King's Cross and St. Martin's lane Hubs and they are great. Very clean, and superbly designed, although the rooms are incredibly small and may not have any natural light.  

- Educational-Bid-5733•7mo ago•I stayed five minutes from Paddington Station. So convenient getting around, and the hotel was wonderful at $145 night, and breakfast was an extra $14 per person with a full meal served and continental style stuff on side with fresh fruit you could have as well. Park Grand Paddington Court. 

-  Premier Inn County Hall.

- Some tourists - in one day - will go on the Eye (£30), visit Buck Palace (£50), have lunch in Covent Garden (£50), visit the Tower (£35), go to the theatre (£100), and have dinner in the Savoy (£200++ depending on plonk). Add a taxi-ride or two, and it's easily over £500.Others will walk through Hyde Park, visit the British Museum (free), grab a sandwich from a supermarket (£3), look at Buck Palace through the gates, visit the Tate modern (free), and have a McDonald's (£7). Maybe grab a last-minute theatre-ticket bargain (c. £20), or standing room at the Globe (£5).

- Just stayed at the Ellen recently. It was very nice, but it’s a converted residence, not a purpose-built hotel, so charming character and tiny rooms.It was well situated, right around the corner from Earl’s Court tube station, but on a quiet residential street, which is charming.

- London is great for sightseeing because so much is free here. It makes sightseeing on a budget really easy. The best museums — the British Library, British Museum, National Gallery, Natural History Museum, and Museum of London (just to name a few) — are all free. Hyde Park? Free. Kensington Gardens? Free. It’s easy to fill a few days with sightseeing in London without ever spending a penny.But sadly, not everything is free. For attractions that weren’t free, I used the London Pass. This tourist card cost me 54 GBP ($86 USD) for two days of sightseeing. It covers over 32 destinations and offers free public transportation. You can get a pass for up to six days (87 GBP). There are hundreds upon hundreds of dollars in savings with this pass. However, I didn’t have much time nor the desire to see all 32 spots. I was able to see:

[lavishangle]

High-End Happy Hour: Experience Cocktails at Their Finest, Luxury Mixology. Discover the world’s most exclusive bars where impeccable service, rare spirits, and breathtaking ambiance create an unforgettable high-end drinking experience. https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC3o4B5eoAcewBjxvaeC5Rxg?sub_confirmation=1 Luxury bars have become more than just places to grab a quick drink; they’re destinations where art, culture, and flavor blend seamlessly. From London’s illustrious Artesian to the Ginza district’s High Five in Tokyo, these bars cater to patrons who demand both impeccable service and distinctive cocktails. With interiors that range from elegant Art Deco furnishings to sleek, modern designs, each location offers its own unique ambiance that transports guests into a realm of refined indulgence. Whether it’s the legendary American Bar at The Savoy—steeped in history and known for its signature classics—or The Dead Rabbit in New York City, famed for its 19th-century Irish flair, there’s no shortage of creativity. Expert mixologists push boundaries with rare ingredients and innovative techniques, presenting drinks that are as visually captivating as they are delicious. It’s not just about what’s in the glass either; each bar prides itself on a distinctive theme or narrative, pulling guests into an immersive cultural experience. Beyond the cocktails, these exclusive establishments also spotlight premium spirits, from limited-edition whiskeys to vintage champagnes. Bars like The Baxter Inn in Sydney curate a remarkable selection of rare bottles for the true connoisseur, while spots such as Zuma Tokyo integrate local ingredients and craftsmanship into their cocktail menus. The result is a carefully orchestrated blend of tradition, modernity, and hospitality that few other venues can match. Ultimately, these iconic bars elevate the concept of a simple night out into an unforgettable journey. By merging exceptional design, world-class mixology, and warm hospitality, they forge an atmosphere where every sip resonates with sophistication. For those seeking the pinnacle of high-end drinking, these bars stand as shining beacons, waiting to dazzle even the most discerning palate. 📂 For The Latest Stories on luxury travel, getaways goods, the rich, companies, Top 10’s, biographies, Lavish History, news, and more 📂 https://www.youtube.com/@Lavishangle 🎉 For business enquires contact us at full4sog (@) gmail dot com 💬 Don't forget to leave your thoughts in the comments below. We love hearing from you! 😍 and hit that bell to stay updated on all new videos we release. #lavishgetaways #thelavishandaffluentangle #thelavish&affluentangle #tlaa #viralyoutubevideo #video #viralyoutubevideo #youtubeviralvideos #videosviral #videos #videosyoutube #videosbeta #viralvideos #viralvideo #viral #viralreels #youtubevideos #viralyoutubevideos #LuxuryBars #HighEndDrinking #ExclusiveCocktails #OpulentExperience #ArtOfMixology #RareSpirits #IconicBars #GlobalNightlife #RefinedAmbiance #LuxuryTravel #CocktailInnovation #BarScene #OpulentWateringHoles #ElevatedExperience #FineDrinks #WorldsBestBars #HighClassNightlife #SophisticatedSip #PremiumSpirits #BespokeService #HistoricBars #HiddenGems #ExquisiteMixology #ArtisanCocktails #EliteNightlife via The Lavish & Affluent Angle https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC3o4B5eoAcewBjxvaeC5Rxg December 30, 2024 at 11:00PM

[studentabode]

City Guide: Best Areas for Student Housing Nottingham

Nottingham with its rich academic heritage and vibrant student life is a location of over 60,000 students across its two key campuses. Discovering the ideal home fitting to you is a prerequisite for a good student life. Let's see where are the most attractive places for student housing in this historical city.

Lenton

Average Rent: £90-120 per week

Distance to Universities: 15-20 minutes walk to the University of Nottingham

Lenton is still the most popular student area, especially for University of Nottingham students. This bustling suburb is home to a large segment of the city's student population - about 40%, and it offers:

- A great variety of converted Victorian houses

- Suitable transport links with frequent bus services

- The common student hangouts like The Junction and Savoy Cinema

- Several convenience stores and supermarkets near the houses

Pro Tip: It is always smart to secure a flat early on in Lenton because flats here are often occupied in December for the following year of university.

Dunkirk

Average Rent: £85-110 per week

Distance to Universities: 10-15 minutes walk to the University of Nottingham

Besides the University Park Campus, Dunkirk gives:

- A calmer option than Lenton

- Close to Highfields Park and Nottingham Science Park

- A blend of modern, purpose-built residences and traditional houses

- Direct access to the university's sports facilities

City Centre

Average Rent: £120-160 per week

Distance to Universities: 10-minute tram to both universities

Urbanites, this place is the right for you as here you will get:

- Newly constructed blocks of apartments with additional security measures

- Convenient distance to Victoria Centre and Intu Broadmarsh

- Enjoying an exciting nightlife and other fun activities

- Excellent transport links to both universities

Beeston

Average Rent: £80-110 per week

Distance to Universities: 20-25 minutes walk to the University of Nottingham

Being mostly among postgraduates and mature students, the Beeston neighborhood is the following:

- Suburban-like feel with a lot of small independently owned stores and cafes

- The low rent expense as opposed to the central parts

- Direct tram link to the city center

- Multiple major groceries and shopping malls

The Arboretum

Average Rent: £90-120 per week

Distance to Universities: 15-minute walk to Nottingham Trent University

The attraction for students from Nottingham Trent people, this area boasts:

- Old Victorian Park is right in the middle of the city

- The varied population along with international food stores

- Blend of old-fashioned and modern houses

- The city center is readily accessible by the area's facilities

Important Considerations

Transport Links

- The city's impressive public transport system boasts:

- NET's convenient tram system that links to the main student housing areas

- Frequent buses with student discounts

- Dedicated university shuttle buses

Safety Features to Look For

- Locking doors through the use of entrance systems

- Prominent streets with lights

- CCTV is watching

- In a place near to the public transport

Budget Planning

Remember to factor in:

- Utility bills (£40-60 per month)

- Internet (£20-30 per month)

- Contents insurance (£10-15 per month)

- Exemption from council tax (if you are a full-time student)

Timing Your Search

October-November: Research the areas

December-January: Go through houses and finalize contracts.

February-March: The majority of the best scenes are already taken

April onwards: Proper choices are few but still present

Student Tenant

Looking for headache-free student accommodation in Nottingham? Student Tenant, a company that thrives in the field, is the one to turn to if you want to live in the most coveted areas of the city. We offer:

- A wide list of real estate properties for rent

- Virtual and in-person viewings

- Clear transparency without any additional charges

- Maintenance support that is available 24/7

- The student support team that is solely for students

- Ensured deposit protection

Contact Student Tenant today at www.studenttenant.com or call 0333 772 0618 to find your perfect student home in Nottingham. Our proficient team of tutors is aware of the student's needs and will walk you through every move so that you find the accommodation that is in the range of both your preferences and budget.

[marketingpicnic]

A Mesmerizing Mirage": How Monet's Paintings Transformed Our Perception of London

Claude Monet’s revolutionary depictions of London, particularly his fog-shrouded visions of the Thames, have forever altered how the world sees the British capital. A new exhibition, Monet and London: Views of the Thames at the Courtauld Gallery, explores the French Impressionist’s groundbreaking work and how his ethereal paintings reshaped the city’s image.

Monet’s Vision Beyond Reality

Some artists capture the world with stunning accuracy, while others, like Monet, go beyond mere representation. Between 1899 and 1901, during three extended stays in London, Monet embarked on an ambitious series of nearly 100 paintings. These works, centered around the Thames River, are not just landscapes but explorations of light and atmosphere. Monet’s portrayal of the city, veiled in mist and fog, offered an entirely new way of seeing London—an "unreal city," as poet T.S. Eliot would later describe it.

Monet's focus was less about the landmarks themselves and more about the elusive interplay between light and the environment. His works, such as The Houses of Parliament, Shaft of Sunlight in the Fog, dissolve the solid structures of the city into vaporous illusions, making viewers question the very nature of what they are seeing.

The Making of a Masterpiece

Monet’s obsession with London's fog was central to his creative process. From the terrace of St. Thomas’s Hospital and his rooms at the Savoy Hotel, he painstakingly studied how the sunlight interacted with the ever-changing fog and smog along the Thames. Each canvas was a blend of light, mist, and shadow, capturing fleeting moments in time and space.

The artist’s frustration when faced with a fogless morning reveals his deep connection to this atmospheric element. In a letter to his wife, he once confessed his horror at waking to a clear sky, fearing that his canvases would be ruined. For Monet, London was not merely a city—it was a living, breathing entity whose true beauty could only be revealed through its foggy veil.

Monet’s Legacy and London’s Transformation

Monet's depictions of London were more than mere artistic experiments; they were transformative. His misty, atmospheric views of the city offered a new lens through which the world came to view London. As American art critic Desmond FitzGerald once noted, Monet’s fog-laden paintings seem "half-finished" at first, but gradually reveal their intricate details as the viewer's eye adjusts. These works challenged the traditional perception of London’s solidity, replacing it with a shimmering, almost dreamlike quality.

Oscar Wilde, writing around the same time Monet first set up his easel in London, remarked that people began to see fogs because poets and painters taught them to appreciate their mysterious beauty. Monet's paintings captured the essence of London in ways that had never been seen before, blending reality and illusion into a mesmerizing mirage.

An Exhibition of a Lifetime

The exhibition at the Courtauld Gallery provides a rare opportunity to see more than a third of the works Monet created during his London visits. The collection showcases the artist's genius for capturing the interplay of light, smoke, and mist, and his ability to transform a bustling, industrial city into a series of ethereal landscapes. This convergence of masterpieces will not only transport viewers back to turn-of-the-century London but also demonstrate how Monet’s artistic experiments changed the way we perceive cities and nature.

Conclusion

Monet’s London series is a testament to his innovative spirit and his ability to see beyond the visible. His pioneering work with light and atmosphere reshaped not just the artistic world but also how we understand the places we inhabit. Monet and London: Views of the Thames is more than an exhibition—it’s a window into a world transformed by the genius of one man, and it offers a rare chance to experience the luminous beauty that Monet found hidden in the fog.

The exhibition runs at the Courtauld Gallery, London, until January 19, 2025.

[tucanbakery]

A Culinary Journey: Discovering Authentic Italian Pizza in Puerto Banús

If you find yourself wandering the vibrant streets of Puerto Banús, your culinary adventure is incomplete without indulging in authentic Italian pizza. This delightful dish has captured hearts and taste buds around the globe, but nothing beats savoring a slice crafted with tradition and passion. As you explore this glamorous marina town, let’s embark on a flavorful journey that reveals not only the history behind Italy's beloved creation but also what makes the perfect pie. Prepare for mouthwatering insights into ingredients that elevate pizza puerto banus to an art form and tips on how to fully appreciate each delicious bite in Puerto Banús!

The History of Italian Pizza

Italian pizza has roots that stretch back centuries. It began in Naples during the late 18th century when locals started adding toppings to flatbreads. This humble creation transformed into what we now recognize as pizza. When Queen Margherita of Savoy visited Naples in 1889, a local chef crafted a pie adorned with tomatoes, mozzarella, and basil—colors inspired by the Italian flag. This moment solidified pizza’s place in culinary history. As waves of immigrants brought their traditions to America, pizza evolved further. New York and Chicago developed unique styles that showcased regional ingredients and flavors. Today, Italian pizza is celebrated worldwide for its simplicity and freshness. Each bite tells a story steeped in tradition—celebrating both its humble origins and global adaptations through time.

The Ingredients that Make a True Italian Pizza

The heart of authentic Italian pizza lies in its ingredients. Each element plays a crucial role in creating that perfect slice. First, the dough is fundamental. Made from high-quality flour, water, salt, and yeast, it needs to be kneaded gently and allowed to rise slowly for the best texture. Next comes the tomato sauce. San Marzano tomatoes are often preferred for their rich flavor and low acidity. A simple drizzle of olive oil can elevate this base to new heights. Cheese is another star player. Fresh mozzarella adds creaminess while maintaining a delicate balance with other toppings. Don’t overlook the extra virgin olive oil; a splash at the end enhances flavors beautifully. Fresh basil leaves bring an aromatic touch that completes this masterpiece. Each ingredient contributes to an experience that transports you straight to Italy with every bite.

Tips for Ordering and Enjoying Pizza in Puerto Banús

When it comes to enjoying pizza in Puerto Banús, a few tips can enhance your experience. First, don’t rush the process. Take your time to browse the menu and ask questions about the different options available. Many pizzerias offer unique regional specialties that you might not find elsewhere. Consider sharing with friends or family if you’re dining in a group. This way, you can sample multiple flavors and styles without committing to just one pie. Additionally, pair your pizza with a refreshing local wine or craft beer for an authentic culinary experience. If you're feeling adventurous, try ordering off-menu items that locals recommend; these hidden gems often provide some of the best flavors around. And remember to enjoy each bite—savoring every morsel is part of what makes Italian pizza so special. Consider timing your visit wisely. Going during off-peak hours may allow for better service and attention from staff who are eager to share their passion for food with you. With these tips in hand, you're all set for a delightful pizza adventure right here in Puerto Banús!

For More Information:

Pizzeria Delivery

Pizza Take Out

Pizza Marbella Delivery

[ffiesinger]

Sur le chemin de l’école… en téléphérique - Journal de 13 heures | TF1

See on Scoop.it - Transports par cable - tram aérien

Pour échapper aux problèmes de feux et aux embouteillages, certains prennent le téléphérique comme vous montez, vous, dans votre voiture ou le bus. Un moyen de transport beaucoup plus original et plus rapide. Il y en a un qui vient d’être inauguré pour la rentrée des classes à Saint-Gervais-les-Bains (Haute-Savoie). Dès vendredi, 1 200 personnes pourront emprunter ces télécabines toutes les heures. Si l’idée est séduisante, encore faut-il convaincre les automobilistes. TF1 | Reportage C. Buisine, S. Thizy

Francis Fiesinger Pro's insight:

#transition #mobilite #saintgervais #poma 

[kinonostalgie]

Actor Sean Connery at The Savoy Hotel before heading to Las Vegas to shoot the latest James Bond film " Diamonds are Forever". He is pictured with the Rolls Royce which took him to the airport. 11th April 1971

Iconic Actor Sean Connery, known for his portrayal of James Bond, is captured in this timeless photograph at The Savoy Hotel before embarking on an exciting journey to shoot the latest installment of the legendary franchise, 'Diamonds are Forever. ' Taken on April 11th, 1971, this image showcases Connery's undeniable charm and suave demeanor as he poses alongside a sleek Rolls Royce that transported him to the airport. During the 1970s, Connery was at the peak of his career and had become synonymous with the iconic character of James Bond. His magnetic presence and impeccable acting skills captivated audiences worldwide. This print by Bela Zola perfectly encapsulates a significant moment in cinematic history when Connery embarked on yet another thrilling adventure as Agent 007. The combination of luxury car and esteemed actor creates an aura of sophistication and elegance. As one gazes upon this snapshot from Memory Lane Prints, it transports us back to an era where glamour reigned supreme in both film and fashion. It serves as a reminder of how movies have the power to transport us into fantastical worlds while leaving an indelible mark on popular culture. This image captures not only Sean Connery's larger-than-life persona but also pays homage to his contribution to cinema during this golden age. It stands as a testament to his enduring legacy as one of Hollywood's most beloved actors.

[jtemtsocialmediadude]

Savioe Transportation Orlando Florida

The Perfect Rental, For The Perfect Trip

At Savoie Transportation, we're more than just a car rental service; we're your gateway to extraordinary journeys. Whether you're in search of a vacation car rental for a memorable family trip or a themed car rental like our Hulk Greek Hummer for an adventure of epic proportions, we've got you covered. Your next unforgettable travel experience begins here. Choose your ride and hit the road to create memories that will last a lifetime.