#we sat outside on the terrace (in the beautiful streets on the old town) but the inside was so cute & cozy 😍

[lilidawnonthemoon]

[billikatchoo]

solar sentience

“Billiiiiii!!”

I heard her call my name from across the street. I hadn’t seen Marusya since Porto. I had to stop myself from running out into traffic to greet her. i had made that mistake before and my knee still gives me trouble. but once there was a break in the traffic i dashed.

she saw me coming and opened her arms to embrace me. i ran into her with such velocity that she fell back, luckily catching both of us because i wouldn’t have been able to.

“i missed you so much, Marusya.” i made no effort to stop the tears from flowing from my eyes. “it’s been too long.”

“we talked for a hour yesterday, you goofball.” we did. we talked on the phone often and had a bad habit of losing track of time. even just to establish when and where we’d meet led us to a long tangent about my travel frustrations. “but it’s so nice to see that smile again.” i grinned even harder.

Marusya led me to the cafe. she had been staying in the city the past few months with friends i would meet later that evening. i was lucky enough that my work brought me to Europe, and luckier still that my path crossed with hers. it seemed predestined.

she took me to her favorite cafe. she loved the pastries here and that was absolutely enough for me. the weather was beautiful today so we sat on the terrace. i found it somewhat overstimulating to be honest. i was distracted by the visibility of the old and intricate architecture that populated the landscape of this part of town. that’s to say nothing of all the people and traffic noise outside, but i did my best to focus on our conversation. it was all i wanted. that and a cigarette. i was surrounded by Europeans smoking over their coffees and i knew it was only a matter of time before i broke my streak. it wasn’t a long streak anyhow.

“i can’t believe it’s been three years already. it’s surreal.”

“i know. it feels at once like yesterday and a lifetime ago that we met.” 

we worked together while we were both in school in Santa Barbara. we bonded quickly over our mutual hobbies and interests. primarily music and philosophy. in that time in our life we both desperately needed someone to talk to.

“yeah, honestly i can’t believe this is how things turned out for us. if you had told me then this is where we’d end up, i’d have laughed. and probably made sure it didn’t.”

“then i'm glad i didn’t tell you.” Marusya smiled. i couldn’t help but smile back. Marusya continued, “i’m sorry again though. i still feel responsible for how things played out in Washington.”

“it hardly matters at this point though. Terra gets released in a few months; i’m sure she won’t hesitate to forgive you.”

“i hope you’re right. i hope she’s as gracious as you’ve been.” Marusya stared into her tea. i hated to see her look so guilty. she deserved to be at peace.

“gracious? i had nothing to forgive, no matter what you tell me.” years ago she had been instrumental in my decision to transition. for that i owed her my life. i would never shake that feeling, even if she was responsible for my wife’s prison sentence. but that was between them.

Marusya started to get emotional, but she was better at keeping it at bay than i was. “i still have a hard time talking about it. i wanted to today, but now i don’t know if i can.”

“well damn, i could’ve brought my cellular then,” i joked. Marusya had asked me to leave it at my hotel. i knew the routine from our community organizing days. if we hadn’t been so diligent about our comms procedures she would be with Terra now, and i’d likely never see either released.

“have you heard from anyone since Terra’s sentencing?”

“no, i thought it best to cut ties with them. i didn’t want to push my luck. but i miss a few of them.”

“maybe when Terra’s back you’ll hear from them."

“i hope not. for her sake.”

“how are things between the two of you anyway? as good as always i hope.”

“actually they’re not. we stopped speaking. or writing letters rather.”

“no! what? why? what happened between you two?”

“she admitted to cheating on me in the clink.”

“what? you lie. tell me you’re lying.”

“i wish i was.”

“are you two done for good?”

“oh god no. at least i hope not. im just upset and we agreed it best that we don’t speak again until she’s up for parole.”

“at least that’s soon.”

“not soon enough.”

“it should’ve been me.”

“you should’ve been the one she cheated with? yeah honestly i’d’ve preferred that.”

“actually Lake did say that they’d forgive an infidelity only if it was her of all people.”

“what? seriously?”

“yeah, Terra has that effect on more people than you realize. i never told you about it because i didn’t want you to feel threatened.”

“i wouldn’t’ve felt threatened.”

“...or get any ideas.”

“okay, fair.”

“i still should’ve taken that rap for her. i never got to apologize.”

“you will one day. one day soon.”

“crazy how one little mistake could have such consequences.”

“just be grateful that was the only mistake you made.”

“i am. and thanks again.”

“for what? i didn’t do anything for you.”

“you saved me.”

“Terra saved you. i just played along.”

“then extend my thanks.”

“i’ve thanked her enough.”

i was growing tired of thinking about about my last days with the both of them. i was at my wits’ end. i excused myself to bum a cigarette from another patron. Marusya used the opportunity to get another tea.

it felt good to smoke again, and to see Marusya face to face, even if we still had some tensions to iron out. we had been unable to discuss it directly, on the chance that a bug might overhear. Marusya was still wanted by the FBI for her connection to the Nerysian Resistance Cell.

i inhaled deeply, letting the smoke fill me, and consume me. the nicotine made me feel light, made it hurt less to relive the past.

the Nerysians were the cell responsible for the assassination of Chief Justice Robert Jackson, the first Supreme Court Justice to be assassinated in the country’s history, but not the last. it seems like a minor incident after the events that followed, and i spent a long time hoping that the FBI agreed. luckily i have yet to be proven wrong.

ultimately, the only Nerysian who would do time in connection to that crime was Terra. just our luck. our friend Lake who pulled the trigger was murdered by police on sight. sadly, the trigger was attached to a pistol registered in Terra’s name. she had given her gun to Marusya when there was a string of robberies in her building. Marusya, in the midst of returning it, left it in the trunk of Lake’s car, which was commonly used for Nerysian activity. this led to it being mixed in with the unmarked arms that had shared the trunk that evening. the next morning Lake had taken that gun of all guns.

after recovering Lake’s body and Terra’s gun, it was only a matter of time before they came for her too. rather than implicate others, Terra took responsibility. the rest of the cell took the cue to go into hiding. we had covered our tracks well enough that the only charge they could pin to her was giving Lake the gun. she even convinced the court that she knew nothing of the assassination plans. they never knew of the other illegal rifles and pistols that Lake had access to. they never knew the truth of the Nerysians.

however, they did know that Marusya and Lake shared a house. scared that she could be used to expose an entire network of revolutionaries, Marusya fled the country. i helped her escape to Europe, by way of Portugal, where i had enough connections and spoke the language well enough to get her a stack of Euros, a fake passport and a train ticket to get deeper into the continent. she took refuge with her leftist connections from her post grad years in Eastern Europe. she seems to like it here, but it was hard to tell under all her grief.

Marusya returned, tea in one hand and pastry in the other, as i finished my cigarette.

“you smoked that so fast.”

“yeah, i should’ve savored it.”

“don’t make the same mistake with this,” she remarked handing me the pastry. “do you want to talk about something else? i think the heavy convos can wait.”

we sat to resume our convo. “yes, please. did you have something in mind?”

“yes!” Marusya’s face lit up, her demeanor shifting immediately. “i was reading earlier about the new advancements in cold fusion tech.”

“really?” this was a topic we both had followed since scientists started making advancements when we were in college. it was one thing that gave us hope for our global future.

“yes! they’re creating more and more energy everyday.” her enthusiasm comforted me. “it’s so exciting.”

“where is this happening?”

“at a new nuclear research facility in Vienna.”

“very cool. it’s about time.”

“i agree, it’s a shame that it took such extreme global circumstances to motivate the EU to fund it. but better late than never.”

“definitely. i just can’t help but be concerned with how this tech could be privatized and capitalized. this could solve so many problems across the globe, but that idea feels naive.”

“yeah, we need to be careful with these utopian ideas. every utopia is a dystopia for someone after all.”

“no argument there, but i don’t know what we will do if the people in power choose utopia. it seems almost certain.”

“we will feast upon their flesh,” Marusya replied flatly. “wasn’t that always the plan?” she looked at me earnestly, her eyes wide, as she pulled apart a piece of the pastry.

“yes, but i still pray it never comes to that.”

“too bad your prayers haven’t gotten a response. im sure the sun would know what’s in store for us.”

i thought that was a odd thing to say, at least for Marusya. “what do you mean?”

“wait, did you not hear that the sun is sentient? do you not read the news while you’re on tour?”

“i stopped reading the news when Terra left.”

“she didn’t leave. she was taken from you.”

“don’t remind me.”

“oh sorry. you’re right.”

“what are you talking about then?”

“okay so a few weeks ago some researchers published some really fascinating data that i thought you’d have heard about.”

“it’s been hard to keep up with all the extraterrestrial science that’s been happening since the shattering.”

“yes, definitely. but this is more legit than a lot of the speculation that’s coming out these days. essentially, astrophysicists were able to prove that within the sun there is energy flowing between atoms. and that this energy flows in patterns remarkably similar to the flow of electricity between neurons in the human brain.”

“oh, that is interesting.”

“isn’t it?” Marusya’s enthusiasm always filled me with joy. i missed seeing that in her face for so long.

“what exactly are we supposed to make of that though?”

“well, essentially the prevailing interpretation is that the sun is functioning like a brain, but given that the mass of the sun is so much larger than a brain, there’s practically infinitely more synapses with infinitely more connections, so to speak. and the conclusion researchers are coming to is that the sun is ‘hyper-sentient’ and is observing and on some level comprehending the universe that surrounds it.”

i was stunned. i didn’t know how to respond to that information.

Marusya continued, “i mean obviously we’ll never be capable of understanding exactly how the sun ‘thinks’ or how it experiences reality, or whatever hyper-sentience might imply. but the implications are fascinating.”

“you’re right. i was shocked. i don’t even know what to say.”

“really? i thought you’d have something to say given your sun worshiping tendencies. i really surprised you didn’t hear about it.”

“well, this is validating. i feel like i already knew somehow.”

“maybe somehow we all did. we’re all waves on one ocean anyway. the sun is just like a tsunami.” 

i really liked this conjecture. i knew Marusya thought about life along these lines and i knew that she was right about the nature of reality. “but given that our sun is just one star of one hundred billion, and that’s just within our galaxy, are they theorizing that all stars are sentient?”

“yes, that’s exactly the conclusion they’ve come to. all stars have been reclassed as ‘hyper–sentient beings.’ they’re already calling them ‘HSBs’ and it’s opening an entire new subfield of astrophysics. evidently our search for extraterrestrial life had too narrow of a scope.”

“does this mean they’ll finally stop looking for little green men?” Marusya and i had both long considered this a futile effort and a waste of ever-dwindling resources.

“almost definitely not. everyone still wants to know who built the moon.” Marusya said this almost as if she did as well.

“they want to know who they can declare war on.”

“sure, but maybe we need to be humbled. as a species.” Marusya was right. the hubris of man had gotten out of hand in the past decade, saying nothing of course of the centuries that preceded it.

i nodded as i ate the last bite of pastry. Marusya was right about them, and i’m sure she was right about everything else. but i needed time to process it.

i looked to the sun now. or as much as i could given its unbearable brightness this time of day, this time of year. its rays illuminated big fluffy clouds, clouds taller and wider than any castle in Europe. i wondered if it could feel me, if it could feel the warmth that i felt in that moment, from radiation that connected us directly. i felt so small then; i was one of nearly two million people in this city alone. this city that were its area transposed onto the surface of the sun, would appear so miniscule it would not be detectable by even our most advanced instruments and our smartest scientists.

could it feel what i was feeling? did we only exist as an extension of it? as a cosmic appendage that was willed into existence so that this HSB may be capable of experiencing its own beauty? if so, did that change anything for us? would that bring us to reassess, re-examine, and ask ourselves, “how do we live?”

i knew i wouldn’t come to any worthwhile conclusions now, or soon, or maybe even as long as i lived. we were in a new era of gods greater than ourselves, and for once in human history plainly observable to exist. so why did this bring our own existence into question? i wanted to get into all the questions that raced through my mind then and there, but it was time to leave the cafe. maybe it was best to give myself time to collect my thoughts, and to reground myself with the exciting prospect of exploring a very old city with my oldest friend. Marusya always had a way of bringing me back to reality, no matter how strange reality became.

“what do you want to do first?” Marusya asked me, smiling at me big as ever. i knew from that alone we would be alright.

“buy a pack of cigarettes,” i responded without missing a beat. for the first time since i landed in Europe i had other things on my mind, but i knew from experience that relapsing on my nicotine addiction would keep me from relapsing on the designer psychedelics that captured my youth and were widely available on the continent. i wanted now more than ever to dive back in, to take a hero’s dose and explore this fresh perspective of the cosmos. i wanted to reconnect with our celestial mother, who gave us life and watched closely over us. i wanted to, but i knew i couldn’t let Marusya see me like that, not again. i knew if i wasn’t clean when Terra was released there would be no prospect of her returning to me. i knew that the two of them meant more to me than any drug. on second thought, i decided against the cigarettes, and Marusya led me deeper into this city as old as our measurement of years themselves, guiding me further into the past as she once had guided me into my present. we talked and we laughed and we sang and we cried, and we rekindled the friendship we had sacrificed for the greater good of humanity. for the first time in years, it felt like a worthy sacrifice.

[dsandrvk]

Friday, April 5 - Avila to Segovia

We have only one night here in Segovia, so we were motivated to make the most out of our afternoon. We arrived on the train after a station change of over two hours in the city of Valladolid, about an hour north of Segovia. It was a beautiful day, and we were able to go to a nice park near the train station and have a picnic lunch. It seemed strange to be able to walk around in T-shirts after days of bundling up. There was a little "lake" with lots of waterfowl, and a couple of peacocks - one of which was about thirty feet up in a tree. He had a beautiful tail that hung down, but caught on the branches every time he changed position.

Once again in Segovia the high speed trains have replaced the slower ones, and so the newer Segovia train station is quite a distance from the city center. But once again, there was a bus that had a schedule to meet the train, and take us to the aqueduct. The aqueduct was still some distance from the other two main draws in town - the Alcazar and the cathedral, and as our hotel was near those, we still had some rolling to do, both up and down, since Segovia is quite hilly.

We had gotten tickets to the Alcazar a couple of weeks ago, and figured that Friday evening would be less crowded than Saturday morning, and we were right. We had time after checking in to meander up to the castle, which is on the westernmost point on the top of the hill. It's an extremely defensive position, with sheer cliffs. It also looks a bit like a fairy tale castle. Unlike some of the other Alcazars we have seen, this one is completely Medieval, although it was built on the site of an old Roman fortress, and nothing was left but the foundation. Since it was constructed after the "reconquest", there is no Moorish influence other than a few windows. The shot of the entire castle is not my photo, as there was no way to get that vantage point from the city itself.

The castle is laid out very nicely as a living museum, with rooms decked out and furnished as they might have been during the time of Isabel, who left here to proclaim herself Queen of Castille. It also was the site of the last meeting between Columbus and King Ferdinand before the explorer's death. One room has sculptures of all the Kings (and a queen or two) who ruled here, and the ceilings are fabulous. Part of the tour includes a visit up the highest tower, which had phenomenal views. It also had extreme winds, which threatened to tear the Spanish flag up there to shreds. The tower visit is scheduled at one hour after your entry time, and everyone goes up at once, but then can go down at one's leisure. Need I add that we were the last down.

We still had some light left since it was now only 7 PM, so we went down the main shopping street back to the aqueduct. Being a Friday night, it was a very busy place, with lots of young people out, especially. The aqueduct is visible for quite a few blocks, but archeologists have determined it runs under the hill of the town to the west and all the way to the Alcazar, another 1.5 km away. It originated in springs 17 km away and was in use until 1973. It truly is remarkable how well it has withstood the ravages of time. It is one of the things that has made the Segovia old town a UNESCO site.

By now the sun had gone into the clouds and we headed back down and up, following a path along the base of the old city walls, eventually passing through a gate and approaching our hotel from a different angle. We have a lovely terrace and sat outside and enjoyed the last light on the nearby church.

We don't have to leave until around 2 tomorrow to get to the train station, and we have tickets for the Segovia cathedral tomorrow, so it will be a busy morning before we head south to Toledo, our penultimate destination in Spain.

[soyunaagente]

Crossed Wires

Thank you @pridelumos​ for trusting me enough to write this request! 

This is the first one I’ve ever done so I hope you all enjoy it! 

Word Count- roughly 2,200.

Warnings- mentions of murder, guns, sex, drugs. My terrible writing. 

The ticking of the office clock was the only thing breaking the tense silence. Yet another day had passed and not a single tip, clue or evidence was sent in. You sighed loudly and got up from your desk. The evening sun still flooding the room in a warm glow. 

‘Someone’s in a good mood,’ Agent Roger Knapp commented on your louder than normal exhale. 

You shot him a look as you poured yet another cup of coffee, The third of the day. ‘It’s been weeks Roger, weeks. We still know shit.’ You’re fresh, not three years out of the academy, still  chomping at the bit to make a difference; after all you’ve heard about the emerging ‘drug war’ in Mexico.  The more….seasoned agents have gotten cynical over the years. Unless it falls into their lap they don’t bother to investigate. 

You dropped into your comfortable office chair and slumped over the desk. Letting out a frustrated groan. Honestly? If you knew the adventure that was about to ensure you’d  wish for a few more of the lazy office days. 

----------

Miguel Ángel Felix Gallardo, arguably the most wanted man in Mexico, leaned back in his office chair. Specially designed with French leather. Not for the faint of heart. He too let out a frustrated sigh.  The Gulf was weeks away from overtaking most of the land border into the United States. All he’d been able to do was sit back and watch it happen. 

He sighed again and stood up to look out the window. The fading rays of sunlight doing nothing to ease his apprehension. The Gulf was mere weeks away from securing the majority of the land border between Mexico and the United States. It would lead to a drop in profits; and an increase in problems. As if he hadn't had enough, Tijuana and Sinaloa were in a war, Pacho had him in a vice grip and Maria was gone. Fled. Kids and all. 

Miguel lit a cigarette, as he watched the ash tip onto the stone balcony he realised there was no point in wallowing. This wasn't going to sort itself. At least this may be something he could fix. Miguel caught his jacket from the coat rack and slammed the door behind him. 

If he had known the events of the next few days maybe he would have gently closed the door instead. 

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

You stood at the side entrance of the offices, leaning against the door frame and watching the Guadalajara streets begin to light up with nightlife and music. You glanced back at the building you called a workplace for a moment. Your eyes scanning the stonework. When you laid eyes on him, however.  your jaw dropped to the floor. 

Strutting up the steps to the main entrance. To the United States DEA base in Guadalajara Mexico was none other than the man that had saved your life almost two years ago. 

Miguel Ángel Felix Gallardo.

*Sinaloa two years prior*

As the first female in the DEA you felt as if you had a point to prove. This was your shot to do it. The biggest night time raid the DEA was about to undertake in the city of Sinaloa. Three houses, two down, now it was your turn to show off all you had learnt. It's not an Old Boys Club anymore. 

In the end it had all happened so fast. First you lead the team tactically into the premises, cleared the perimeter. You did everything by the book. After that night you learnt that rules become blurred south of the border quite often.

 There was a sudden whirr of bullets, frenzied screaming.... an odd smell of smoke. Fear overtook you when you heard the order coming from your Walkie Talkie. Two words registered. 'Ambush... scatter.'

You gripped your gun so tight it was a miracle it didn't snap in two. Barely taking in your surroundings you ran. Hastily. The streets passed in a blur. Your lungs felt on fire as you slowed your steps. Slowing to a stop, leaning against a building. The panting made the footsteps approaching behind you inaudible, it was far too late by the time you noticed. 

The sickening click of a gun being drawn from its holster behind you caused your face to drain of blood. Trembling you slowly turned. You were staring down the barrel of a gun.

 Seconds ticked by. The masked gunman's hand trembled. In that split second a gunshot rang out.. as you were thrown to the ground. You kept your eyes squeezed tightly. A warm hand ran down your arm. Daring to open one eye was the best and worst thing you ever did. You opened both. A pair of deep brown eyes stared back. Entranced. He helped you up, how kind of him. 

Once steady on your feet you got a good look at the man. Time for round two of heart attacks of the day. One of the most wanted men in Mexico had his hand in yours, his other holding your elbow to keep you steady. He looked, well, he looked concerned. 

'Estas bien mija?' 

Your mouth opened and closed.

 He chuckled. 'We,' he gestured to the giant of a bodyguard standing over your would be killer's corpse. 'saw what happened. He was on our hit list anyway.'

You felt your cheeks heat up. His voice was like melted butter. He squeezed your hand. 'I hope I'll see you again... agente.'

 ------------------------------

A bunch of roses with no name attached appeared at the office two weeks later. After getting a LOT of shit from the other agents you figured it could only be Miguel who had sent them. Two days later a necklace arrived. Your internal monologue went a little like ‘Oh no Oh no Oh no no no no no no’, especially when you realised the butterflies before evening opening the little box tied with a red ribbon.  He’s a goddamn Narco. You’re meant to be putting him in a prison to rot.

You threw the flowers out and hid the necklace in your wardrobe. Get rid of all keepsakes and therefore all memories. He’s not for you. It’s not right. It’s damn illegal. 

Now here he was walking as calm as could be into the lion’s den. You stayed watching his cool demeanour. His cockiness. That blue suit, that jet black ha-no stop. You didn’t even notice the small smile appearing on your face as he disappeared indoors. 

Realising the worst thing you could possibly do was follow him. So you waited. Hiding behind a tree. Smooth. Real smooth. He emerged from the building about twenty minutes later. You almost deflated in relief as the car turned the corner and sped off down the next street.

Naively thinking it was safe you returned to your desk. Only to have Roger and Chief Jamie Kuykendall waiting with eyebrows raised and an unreadable look on their faces. Jamie was the first to speak. ‘We-um- we had a visitor.’ 

You acted confused. They fell for it. ‘I- we- Felix Gallardo was here. Looking to give us information,’ he finished. 

‘Wha- what?  How? Why?’ you babbled.

‘We don’t know the specifics. That’s the problem, we haven’t the faintest idea why he wants to give it to us. All we know is. He’ll only give it to you.’ Roger intervened. 

Your jaw hit the floor. ‘Me?’

‘No, he came all the way in here to ask for the Pope. Yes you,’ Roger snapped.    

Jamie handed you a scrap piece of paper. ‘He asked to meet you for dinner. He’ll give you the information then.’

Your brow furrowed. The moral compass going into overdrive. He’s a narco. He saved your life. You’re just getting information. Pushing all the thoughts aside you nodded slowly. ‘I’ll do it. It’ll be okay.’  Whether you were convincing them or yourself is still up for debate. 

You didn’t sleep at all that night. The bed was uncomfortable, the night was too humid, the pillows were uneven. All excuses you convinced yourself were the issue. Sitting straight up at dawn you stared at the wardrobe. The necklace. Sneaking up on the shelf you caught the box and pulled it down. Inside lay the most beautiful silver and diamond collar. 

Slipping it on felt right, It fit like a glove. The dress you chose was a bit risqué to say the least. But you know, we have to give him something to look at. Grabbing your purse before leaving you noticed a driver and his car outside. 

‘Para ti Senorita,’ He opened the door. Champagne and truffles awaited. The smell of the new leather filled you with apprehension as the streets rolled by, before long you were in an unfamiliar part of town. The filthy rich side. The driver pulled up to a villa straight out of a Hollywood movie. The old fashioned villa, complete with a football field sized yard  and outdoor pool was a stark contrast to the cramped apartment you called home. 

Feeling slightly out of place you followed the driver to the entrance. He pushed open the door to a beautifully ornate interior. A butler handed you a glass of champagne and led you to the outdoor terrace. A table for two was set, with a view overlooking the city. It was almost too much. Almost. You took a seat at the table. Admiring the white table cloth and, of course, the vase full of roses as a centre piece. You nervously tugged at the necklace, anxious for Miguel to arrive. Still mixed feelings on the whole deal.

‘Hola Senorita,’ that voice, It stirred something in the pit of your stomach. 

‘Hola.’ There was a slight bit of tension in the air as he sat across from  you. The look in his eye was mischievous, bordering cocky. 

‘Antes de cenar agente. Tengo un regalo para ti.’ He pushed a brown envelope across the table. You let your fingertips touch it before he lets it go. You take another glance back at him. The cockiness is gone. This is the envelope with everything in it. Names, addresses, routes. You tapped your fingers on it for a second. Contemplating. Eventually deciding against better judgement you slipped the invaluable information into your purse. A look of relief washed over Miguel’s face. 

It honestly took you by surprise how funny he could be. You felt a six pack coming on before dinner was even served. The tension disappeared. As the wine flowed you felt more at ease with your supposed arch nemesis. His shoulders slowly dropped throughout the meal. Simply enjoying the company. The butler cleared the dinner dishes away. As he did so the sound of slow classical music filled the night air. Bringing with it Miguel’s invitation for a dance. Slightly embarrassed at the prospect he put you at ease by assuring you he didn’t know the steps. 

He held your hand in his. His grip around your waist was both comforting and reassuring. You simply melted into the embrace. Resting your head on his chest. The sound of his heartbeat was music to your ears. That moment, nothing could ruin that picturesque moment.  The smell of his expensive cologne, the feeling of his cool shirt against your skin.

You gazed up at him, his beard tickling your upper lip. You felt a smirk, his hand around your waist tightening. Oh dear, no. You place your hands on his chest where your head once lay. He looks at you, concern filling his eyes. ‘Que pasa mija hm.’ 

‘I-I.’ you fumble. ‘This,we,’

He stopped dead in his tracks. Moving his hands to hold your shoulders gently but firmly. ‘What are you worried about?’

You stared down at the floor. ‘I can’t be a notch on your belt Miguel. That’s not what this is, I'm a DEA agent. Of course I’ll be forever grateful for saving my life but…. But I just-’

His grip became slightly firmer. Barely noticeable but yet, you felt it. ‘I’m not going to bring you to my room mija. If you do decide to, it'll be because you want to. Not to, what, thank me for the information? That’s not what this is.’ His tone was reaffirming. Yet Calming. His juxtapositions were almost overpowering. How could one man be so much Ying and yet, so much Yang? 

You held his hand. Entwining your fingers with his. ‘This is the way it has to stay Miguel,’ your voice cracking slightly. This is the way it has to stay. 

You quickly wiped a tear from your cheek. With mascara threatening to run you turned to leave. Picking up your purse you took the first steps. Before bidding adieu to the glorious villa you  glanced back at the Narco standing in front of you. ‘If you have any more information you know where I am.’ 

With that, you bid the man that firmly held your heart farewell.

[arigatouiris]

daughter of artemis || p.p  — [02]

c h a p t e r  t w o 

Pairing: Peter Parker x Demigod! Reader [Female pronouns]

Warnings: swearing; angst [a lot of it]; greek mythology rewritten [completely my interpretation of it, oops]; slightly based off the games god of war and assassin’s creed odyssey; hurt/comfort; cliche; fluff [on later chapters sometimes]; mentions of sex and gore; slight alternate universe

Follows events after Endgame, but Tony, Natasha, Steve, Loki are alive in this universe. 

Author’s Note: Killing the links because, no notes means no motivation to update. Let’s hope~

Word count: 4518

02 // κόκκινο red

(y/n) could smell the dust through an incomprehensible distance. In her heart, she knew they were people; the prophecy rang so loudly in her head that she felt she was bleeding by the ear, steam blowing off her ear holes with a massive speed. Her eyes were far too dry to well tears in them, but she hoped and prayed the burning in her eyelids would stop. She walked on the empty streets, hoping to see one face—just one; but none to her avail. This is what the Oracle meant when she said the fates would go into slumber, this would last five years—she wasn’t even sure if five years meant five years. Oracles were known to throw out terms that may mean something else entirely once it happens.

She thought of May Parker, the woman who helped patch her up the day before. Her hand instinctively went to her left hip, the wound had stopped hurting as much as it did, having been sprayed with anti-bacteria and new bandages. When (y/n) swallowed, she was sure it was just drying saliva now; no more blood. Turning around, she walked back to the shelter, her head hung low, wondering if she was the only one alive.

She thought of Spiderman, the teenage superhero; she thought of how he had desperately helped her and brought her to the shelter. She had honestly believed she could have stayed there for a while before going forward and finding Pepper or whoever it was. Rubbing a hand through her hair, she stopped by the entrance of the shelter and blinked.

She swore she saw a silhouette. Her eyes widened just a bit, before chasing after this image—finding a man, old enough to be her grandfather, staring at her.

    “Don’t be afraid, I… I don’t understand what’s going on. People here… People have… Oh dear…” He broke down into tears after laying eyes on (y/n), who stood motionless on witnessing another living person apart from herself.

    “Are there others?” She asked, cursing internally when her voice came out as just a whisper.

The man nodded, before guiding her to another room—the large banquet hall where more beds were arranged. There was a great deal of dust here as well, but the rest were people. (y/n) squinted her eyes and it seemed almost mathematical; this disappearance confused her, it was as if only half of the shelter was gone.

The rest of them were across several ages. From elderly women to middle aged men, it was almost random.

    “We don’t know what happened, but May’s gone and… the others are just…” One woman spoke up, and (y/n) nodded.

    “There was this huge spaceship thing in the city, the Avengers were trying to fend off whatever it was. A lot of destruction over there too.” Another man spoke up.

    “A… A spaceship?” (y/n) couldn’t put the two words together. “What’s… Who are the Avengers?”

The people there just looked at her like she was an outsider; which she was. The man who guided her into the hall placed a hand on her shoulder and offered her a soft smile.

    “Are you not from around here?”

It felt like deja vu at this instant. With these people being so shocked over her not knowing the Avengers and Spiderman being shocked with her not knowing who he was, it felt as if it was all connected.

    “No, I’m… I’m new to town. What a time to be here, huh.” She said, dryly.

There was a great deal of confusion among the people, as one of them explained to her who the Avengers were. A team led by a very rich man, Tony Stark, and Captain America. She didn’t know who they were, but knew Captain America to an extent, having heard rumors of an incredibly strong mortal. Even among the Gods, he was mistaken to be a demigod, but was later confirmed was merely an experiment the mortals conducted on themselves.

    “What do we do now?”

    “We wait.” The woman told (y/n).

❅

Two days passed in an eerie silence. Some members of the shelter cleaned out the dust as much as they could, not completely sure if it was the remains of the lost ones. Television and media started covering the events, as the remaining Avengers gave statements to the press on what happened. However, a strange visitor arrived at the shelter’s doorstep, asking for May Parker.

(y/n) sat at her bed, and wondered where she saw the woman who entered the hall. She had striking red hair, red hair she swore she had seen before—not sure where. She was beautiful, but there was a calmness about her that screamed sorrow; the events following the decimation brought about a stark hollowness in her features. She introduced herself as Natasha Romanoff, but the rest of the shelter knew her as Black Widow, one of the Avengers.

    “Is May Parker…?” Her voice broke at the end.

Only silence followed her question. Not one dared to look at Natasha in the eye, not one dared to answer. It was not fear that prevented them from talking, it was a sort of ignorance—it was as if they didn’t want her to be here, as if they blamed her for everything that occurred.

    “She’s gone.” (y/n) spoke, aloud, bringing Natasha’s attention to hers.

Natasha’s face hardened for a brief second, before nodding once.

    “Can you tell us what happened?” (y/n) seemed to be the only one who was willing to talk to her.

    “There’s a… A creature named Thanos. Using the power of the Infinity Stones, which are very very powerful stones capable of destroying planets with just a snap of a finger, he… He used them to erase half the population in the universe.”

    “Why?” This time, it was the old man who asked.

    “His reason was to… To restore balance to the universe. We tried to stop him, but…”

    “You failed.” A woman finished.

Natasha bit her lip before looking to the ground. (y/n) looked at the woman who was intentionally hostile to the Avenger, and turned back to Natasha.

    “You tried.”

This brought about everyone’s attention. Natasha looked at the 13-year old before gulping. She didn’t want credit; she didn’t want someone to believe in her, let alone a child, who may have lost her entire family.

    “Um,” Natasha waited for (y/n) to finish. “Did Spiderman also…?”

    “We don’t know for sure… But, possibly.”

(y/n) took a sharp intake of breath before turning away. He had saved her life and had turned to dust. Half of her mind wondered if this happened only because she came to New York. But, she knew that if she began blaming herself at this second, there would be dire consequences she would have to face on her own later.

When silence ensued Natasha’s explanation about this creature Thanos who wiped out half the life in the universe, she decided it was her cue to leave. Nodding once at the ground, the red haired fighter walked away, with no one interrupting her abrupt leaving; no one cared to tell her anything positive, there was no positive to begin with. However, (y/n) had seen Natasha somewhere, her red hair and apparent feisty spirit, which was now overshadowed with the misery Thanos had brought forth for everyone, (y/n) was certain she had seen her somewhere. But, she didn’t and couldn’t place her finger on it.

Immediately, the 13-year old chased after Natasha, and stood a couple of steps behind her. The woman noticed a presence behind her and paused, only to meet (y/n)’s gaze.

    “I… I don’t blame you. It’s not you.” (y/n) said, wondering if Natasha could pick up on her broken consolation.

Natasha smiled bitterly, “I wish it was, it’d be easier to digest.”

She turned around and faced (y/n) head on now, knowing full well that there was going to be a conversation that would ensue. The redhead gestured for the girl to follow her, and led her to the terrace, which (y/n) followed wordlessly.

    “Did you… Did you lose your family to the snap?” Natasha asked, carefully.

    “No, not to this. My mother passed away a while ago.”

    “I’m sorry to hear that.” Natasha’s voice was dry. One couldn’t make out if she meant it or just said it because she had to.

    “And your father?” She asked, turning to the girl, standing beside her at the edge of the roof, overlooking the street.

    “I don’t know who my father is. She never spoke about him, my mother. I came here looking for him… I had one clue, but now things are bleak. I don’t even know if he’s alive after this.” (y/n) didn’t want to give too much away.

Natasha nodded. “So you were alone to begin with.”

One could have taken her words with offense, but (y/n) found it strangely comforting. Smiling bitterly, she turned to Natasha and looked at her red hair. She was beautiful, so so beautiful, but also very familiar. Was it because she was famous as an Avenger? (y/n) couldn’t lie, she hadn’t ever heard of the Avengers when she was in Olympus. So, that wasn’t the possibility.

    “I once believed staying alone is far easier when you have a family. That way, you won’t lose anyone, you won’t need to worry about protecting them or risking their lives. It’s easier because there’s literally no responsibility, and therefore, no weakness,” Natasha said, looking over an almost empty New York.

    “That’s right, though. Isn’t it?”

Nat chuckled, “No. Not at all. It’s all that matters, family. It’s what makes you strong, it’s what makes you want to fight. Dead or alive, it’s family that makes you want to fight. Family is what makes you brave.”

(y/n) never thought of it that way. Turning to the red haired woman, she blinked a couple of times, earning a strange look from her. Natasha leaned sideways against the railing and grinned at her.

    “I won’t tell you to be positive at a time like this. I came here to check up on—”

    “May Parker. I know. I’m glad I could meet you.” (y/n) said, finding an eerie sense of familiarity with Natasha Romanoff.

    “Likewise. What’s your name?”

    “(y/n).”

    “I’ve always found comfort in being alone. Ever since losing my mother, it’s all I knew.” (y/n) said, looking directly at her. Natasha nodded once before trying to say something, and swallowing her words.

    “I was always alone too,” She thought briefly of the red room, and how long it took her to begin cleaning her ledger. “But now I have a family to fight for. And I’ll keep looking for ways to bring them back.”

    “Was Spiderman an Avenger?” (y/n) asked, blinking.

    “He might as well be. Were you close?”

(y/n) shook her head, but stopped midway. “He… He tried to help me when no one else did. That was real… It was real superhero of him to try.”

The two chuckled as (y/n) said those words. Patting the girl’s shoulder twice, Nat turned to leave. “I hope your father is alive.” I hope Tony’s alive, Natasha prayed internally, before walking away.

    “Natasha,” (y/n) called out just before the woman had left, “If it takes long, don’t give up.”

Nat blinked, confused. “What do you—”

    “Your family is worth the wait. Don’t give up.” (y/n) said, grimly.

Nat blinked, eyes serious and almost wide, before turning to walk away. It was strange, meeting a random girl who was alone, but perhaps, there was a reason why Natasha met someone who reminded her of herself.

❅

(y/n) had never seen the sunset from anywhere but Phokis. She remembered her mother sitting beside her as they drank hot chai, stags and deer grazing by the temple area. Her mother enjoyed silence, and with (y/n) being there, the two could almost communicate with unsaid words. (y/n), right then, on the terrace of the shelter, pictured her mother’s silhouette against the sunset, and missed her. (y/n) missed her mother with almost every thought, and every breath, it was as if nothing made sense now that she was certain her mother was dead.

Breathing out, (y/n) closed her eyes and pictured her mother; her hair flying wildly in the wind, a soft smile playing on her lips, her eyes lost in some transfixed daydream only she knew about. Sometimes, Artemis would hum a song (y/n) had never heard, and wondered if it were a song only mortals would sing.

Looking at the sunset on her own, it felt funny now that (y/n) was there by herself. Her heart ached for the past, yet now there was no telling what she ached for more; balance for the world, or this Thanos to undo whatever it was that he did.

    “You’ve changed,” She heard a voice beside her, but she didn’t turn.

    “I’ll find out who killed her.” (y/n) told Apollo, who magically appeared by her side.

Apollo could see anything the light touches; his reach was far greater than Zeus, and he often used this to his advantage. It wasn’t as if he suddenly loved his niece, but whether he liked it or not, she was the only reminder of his lost sister. She was her daughter, and there was no changing it. And Artemis would have wanted her daughter protected against Zeus’ wrath.

    “It’s a mystery.” Apollo’s voice came out as a whisper. He looked at his niece, staring into the sun, looking almost lost in thought, similar to how his sister would be.

    “Since when have you been so okay with not knowing what happened to her?” (y/n) snaps, turning to face her uncle’s confused expression.

Suddenly, (y/n) thought of Natasha, of what she said about family. She took a hard long look at Apollo and saw all that restricted him from finding out who killed his sister. He was a God, a God with responsibilities, a God who was loved and revered by almost everyone in Greece, a Midgardian God responsible for the light of the sun and the harmony among the people. To forgo all of this would mean giving up everything the human beings believed in, and there was no way Apollo could allow himself to do it; even if it meant forgoing trying to find out who killed his sister.

But, nothing stopped her. Nothing stopped (y/n) from pushing forward and figuring things out.

    “She was my family, and I owe it to her to try.” (y/n)’s words were as sharp as her gaze, against the sunlight, Apollo almost found it too bright.

    “What do you know? Where will you begin?”

Her mother had told her never to reveal the dagger, but her mother was dead. (y/n) had no idea if her mother knew she would die after, or if it was all a surprise to her as well; but with one intention in her mind, (y/n) would try as much as she could. Pulling out the dagger from a pouch on her right hip, (y/n) displayed it on both her hands to Apollo.

    “She asked me not to tell anyone about this dagger.” (y/n) said, her voice low.

Apollo’s eyes instantly widened upon seeing the artefact in his niece’s hand. He wanted to pull the knife off her hands, but he knew if he wasn’t careful, he could get hurt. Apollo was gifted with arrows, not daggers, and he hated them; however, he recognized this blade. He knew what it was.

    “This was your mother’s,” He said, almost gasping.

Did she knew about the prophecy beforehand? He thought, as he looked at his niece put the blade back inside. The inscriptions on the dagger were in ancient Greek, signs he could read very well. Signs that foretold the end of Zeus’ reign. He didn’t want to tell his niece what he knows, but the fact that his sister had given (y/n) the dagger insinuated that Artemis knew about the prophecy before anyone else did.

There’s no way, he thought, shaking his head. (y/n) shook her head and looked at her uncle, “There’s no way she could have known.”

Apollo’s eyes widen. Did she just read my mind? (y/n) smiles before stepping back a bit. No, it’s a coincidence, he thought, feeling the thumping of his heart against his chest.

    “She gave this to me telling me I’ll learn how to use it.” (y/n) said.

    “In any case, we have five years and it says you will end his henchmen’s lives and Zeus’ reign as King.” Apollo noticed his niece stiffen at the mention of her grandfather.

    “Uncle,” This was perhaps the first time he didn’t object to her calling him that, “I don’t want to run anymore,” She looked up at him and, “I want to fight.”

Apollo scoffed, “Fight what? Zeus? Are you out of your mind—”

    “I can fight his henchman. My mother was one of the greatest warriors in all of the Greek Gods. So are you. And I’m related to you, whether you like it or not.” (y/n) said, glaring at him.

    “So be it, I don’t deny that she was a warrior, but she is dead and cannot train you. And I, for one, will not do it.”

    “But—”

    “I will not train you, (y/n).” His words were stone.

    “You are Apollo! You can teach me how to use the bow—”

    “And you are the daughter of Artemis, the bow is as natural to you as breathing.” He said, rolling his eyes.

    “Uncle—”

    “If I teach you or side with you, which I have done once already, I wage war against my own father. What you are asking of me is impossible.” Apollo’s voice lowered, it was almost comforting. His gaze penetrated her own, there was a softness in his eyes she had never seen before.

    “Fine. Then promise me this as a God and not my uncle, that you will not intervene or reveal my location to Zeus.” (y/n) said, without thinking.

    “(y/n), he did not and would never hurt Artemis.” Apollo said, not believing those words himself.

(y/n) scoffed, “Please don’t tell me you don’t know of his jealousy.”

    “Artemis and I are his children!”

    “So was Hercules!” (y/n) fought back, knowing how Hercules met his fate because of Hera.

Apollo was quiet after this. But, slowly nodded, frowning a bit. He hated the situation he was in, but this is all he could do for Artemis. If it is found out that he hid his niece from his father, he would have to face a great deal of torment in Olympus. But, he would make sure word would not get out. After all, he was the Sun God.

    “Uncle, I need your guidance. Please. You’re the only family I have left.” (y/n) said, almost a prayer.

Words could not describe how torn the Sun God felt at her words. He could not bare to look at her, but he knew what he had to do. He could not forgo his duties as a God and as a son, he could not go against Zeus, and as much as he wanted to, he could not help his niece. Acting out of character, he placed his hand on her shoulder, surprising her, and resting his forehead on her head. Breathing heavily, he struggled to find words to calm himself.

    “I am so sorry, but I cannot help you, little one.”

With that, the sun had set; and (y/n) would not see Apollo for a long, long time.

❅

It was when she almost drifted off to sleep did she remember where she had seen Natasha. Just as her uncle had magically transported her to New York, she remembered seeing visions of a few people she had never met before. 

She saw a man, dark spiky hair, a beard and a grin that hung on his lips that made everything else seem insignificant around him. She saw a woman, bright blonde hair and a soft smile that made everything else seem alright; she saw another woman, red hair this time, reminded her of her mother’s feisty spirit; but the last thing she saw before she knew she could open her eyes were the eyes of a boy, staring into her own, making her forget everything else. For some reason, those eyes, kept begging her not to go.

Gasping, she bolted upright on the bed she was laying down on and pressed both her hands to her mouth. Natasha was the redhead she had seen in her vision. Natasha had a role to play with her arrival in New York.

Natasha Romanoff was a fighter; Natasha, the Black Widow, would be her teacher.

She saw hair, kissed by hair, molten anger and rage; she was who would help her.

With this sudden revelation, it was difficult for her to fall asleep. It would take more than eight hours for it to strike day time, and it would take her more time than that to even think of trying to contact Natasha. She didn’t know how, and there was no way she could contact someone as secretive as an Avenger, especially after hearing some of the things the others in the shelter had to say, Natasha was one of the most secretive ones.

The next morning came painstakingly. As if she were possessed, (y/n) ran up to the first person she could find and asked them where she could find Natasha Romanoff.

    “Well, she is an Avenger, so she’s got to be with Stark. Or at least, he’ll know. What’s the rush?”

(y/n) ignored them before asking someone to dial up Stark Industries, she had learned that contacting them could help her contact Tony Stark, which could help her figure out or at least try and have a word with Natasha. They used the phone in the office, which magically still worked, and as the phone rang, she could feel her heartbeat against her chest.

Five years. Trying to find Pepper would lead her to her father. But, before all that, Natasha would help her. It made more sense each time she thought about it. However, the phone kept ringing and no one picked. Disheartened, (y/n) told herself she wouldn’t give up. She called them again, and again, and again, and yet there was no one on the other end. During lunch, all she could think about was Natasha from her vision; not to mention, the other three people who were there. The dark haired male, the blonde woman, and the brown eyed boy.

The next morning, she tried again. And she tried again, the next day. Each day, she rang Stark Industries for over four times, and prayed that someone would pick.

On the fifth day, someone did pick her call.

    “This is Potts, Stark Industries. How may I help you?” A sweet voice answered, but even from the voice, (y/n) could make out a tiredness that was not physically visible.

    “Can I speak to Natasha Romanoff?”

    “Who is this?”

    “She met me at the shelter a few days ago… I had to ask her something. Please, this is important—”

    “A girl from the shelter?”

    “May Parker’s shelter.” (y/n) answered, hoping this would help give her away.

There was silence on the other end, and a lot of shuffling.

    “Is… Is M-May still—?”

    “No, she’s gone.” (y/n) said, grimly.

    “Oh God…” The voice on the other side breathed heavily.

    “Please, is Natasha there?”

    “She’s here. I’ll hand you over.”

(y/n) felt her heart beat in her ears. “(y/n)?”

She remembered my name! “Yes, um, I needed to ask you something.”

    “Shoot.”

    “I need you to train me.”

Again, there was a long silence on the other end. A moment later, she heard a sigh, which caused her chest to drop with disappointment.

    “Listen, kid, I know you’re distraught, but you’re just a kid—”

    “Please, you… I can’t explain, but it’s you. You have to be the one to train me.”

There was something about her voice that made Natasha want to meet her. Whether she would train her or not was secondary, but she had to meet the girl. If she wanted to be trained, there had to be a reason; and perhaps, this would prove a worthy distraction for her, at least until they found Tony.

    “I know a place. Come there, and I’ll meet you there. Let’s talk.”

(y/n) instantly agreed, but knew not how to get there.

    “I don’t know how to—”

    “I’ll come get you. So stay put.”

There was basically no reason for Natasha to do this. Maybe, it was the way (y/n) asked, maybe it was the confidence she displayed, and the dire relentlessness she showed in trying to reach her at all. There was so many things about (y/n) that reminded her of herself, and at the same time, Natasha saw in her something she hadn’t seen in herself for a while.

Hope.

❅

Natasha met (y/n), once again, on the terrace. She noticed (y/n) was wearing the same worn out jeans, but a different and much looser shirt. Hands on hips, Natasha didn’t wait for the girl to explain.

    “Let’s spar.”

(y/n) blinked, but was on her toes immediately. Natasha came at her with a swing, faster than her mother’s swing, but (y/n) dodged it easily. Moving to her left, (y/n) raised her left leg and kicked Nat’s arm, which came to a defence a moment early. Stepping back, (y/n) dodged a couple more hits from Nat, all too easily, but Nat swung her leg below (y/n)’s, and caused her to fall to the ground, backwards. Jumping back on her feet instantly, (y/n) fell forward, landing on her hands and used her legs to wrap around Nat’s shoulders, pushing her to the ground; but Natasha was faster, grabbed (y/n)’s legs and turned her around, causing her to lie on her stomach, her hands pinned behind her back.

However, Natasha was immensely surprised. Those moves weren’t amateur. (y/n) was trained. There was a story behind her that Natasha had never judged was possible.

    “Who taught you those moves?” Natasha asked, releasing the girl.

    “No one.” (y/n) said, lowly, thinking of her mother.

    “Why do you want to learn how to fight? You’re what, 13 years old?”

A moment before (y/n) could answer Natasha, a roar was heard in the sky. Looking up, she saw grey clouds had gathered instantaneously, swallowing the sun whole. There was half a rainbow in the side, but the storm was brewing. Any second now, rain would fall, and the second one droplet hit her skin, Zeus would know where she was.

(y/n) looked back down, at Natasha’s face, and grinned once.

    “I don’t want to run anymore.”

❅

series taglist: 

Those I could not tag, I’ve added your urls here!

@maddie-laufeyson​, @mscoloneldanvers​, @https://dancing-flame.tumblr.com, @daughter-of-stark​, @spider-mendes​, @nerdyandproudofitsstuff​, @someonekeepstakingmyusernames​, @alina-margaret​, @yourwonderbelle​, @viarogers​​, @https://huangsushii.tumblr.com, @eridanuswave​ @oliviaisnotlistening​ @mizpotatobiscuits​ @editsbyjenny​ @abbieroseb​ @justtrynagetthroughlife​ @secretlittlewonders​​ @missmulti​ @shallowshawnshallowshawn.tumblr.com  @eunoiametonia​ @adistiany​ @justletmesleeptillidie​ @ppunderoos​ @myheartonthemove​ @heir2chaos​

[ft-dads-au]

All I Want For Christmas... - Chapter 3

Home for the Holidays 2019 Prompt: Lights A Collaboration by @mdelpin​ and @oryu404​ AO3 | Prev: Ch 2

December 24, 2013

The first thing Rogue did when he woke up was turn around, resolute in his desire to go straight back to sleep for as long as he could. But as he did, he soon realized that it wasn't his own bed he was tossing and turning in, and at that moment, everything came rushing back to him.

He stretched and opened his eyes to look at Sting’s bed and found nothing but crumpled up sheets and a deserted pillow.

Had he been so dead to the world that he never even noticed him getting up and leaving the room? He thought it made sense, considering how tired he’d been, and his sleep cycle that most likely wasn’t used to the different time zone yet. Either way, Rogue had a feeling he wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep so easily, and not wanting to keep the others waiting for him, he urged himself out of bed. 

With slight trepidation, he descended the stairs, following the sounds of voices and clattering pots and pans, and the smell of breakfast and coffee that led him to the kitchen.

"Morning, sweetie, did you sleep well?" Mrs. Eucliffe chirped at him, taking a moment to look away from the stove and send a smile his way.

"Good morning," Rogue sat down at the table that was already set and filled with all kinds of food, "I think I went out like a light last night."

"Yeah, no kidding," grinned Sting, who was standing next to his mother, pouring four cups of coffee. "I tried waking you up half an hour ago, but you were practically comatose."

Rogue had meant to tell him he should've tried harder, but the words never came out. He just stared as Sting handed him his coffee, and although it couldn't be easier to remember he liked it plain and black, the fact that Sting didn't even ask for confirmation made it seem like only yesterday when he'd last made him coffee.

"Thanks," was all he could manage, his mind already wandering off in directions he was hoping to avoid. He could either sulk and brood, or make the most out of this holiday and enjoy the time he'd be spending here, and not wanting a repeat of yesterday, he promised himself to aim for the latter.

"It smells great in here!" Dr. Eucliffe exclaimed as he joined them, hugging his wife from behind and pressing a kiss to her cheek. He peeked into the pan, reaching out to take one of the slices of bacon that were already plated on the counter, but his hand was swatted away playfully.

"Uh-uh, no stealing!" Mrs. Eucliffe waved her wooden spatula in front of his face, but it took only a few seconds of what Rogue could easily picture as him giving her a pout and a pair of puppy eyes before she caved and fed him a piece anyway.

Now that everyone was present, they all sat down at the table. Rogue stared at the wide selection of food, different types of bread, and numerous spreads and toppings, both sweet and savory. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a breakfast this extensive, and with so many new things for him to try, he had no idea where to begin.

~~~

Once they were all done eating, Sting had suggested for Rogue to go ahead and take a shower while he helped his mother with the cleanup. Now fully dressed and waiting for Sting to get ready so they could leave, Rogue decided to go outside for some fresh air as he let his breakfast settle. He ended up eating a bit too much, and he could definitely use a smoke.

He wasn't surprised to find Dr. Eucliffe out on the deck, his pipe in one hand and a book in the other. Rogue had seen him go outside to smoke his pipe a couple of times yesterday, but until now, they had unintentionally taken turns smoking.

"I was hoping to catch you outside," Dr. Eucliffe smiled at him, "it's nice to have some company that doesn't complain about the smell."

He put the book away, placing it on the small table in front of him and gesturing to the empty space next to him on the bench swing. "Feel free to sit down, I turned on the terrace heater."

Rogue complied, sitting next to him before lighting his cigarette, "My mom used to complain to my dad about the smell a lot as well," he said, blowing out a cloud of smoke, "I can only imagine the lecture she'd give me if she found out I started smoking."

"She doesn't know?" Rogue shook his head, "I picked up the habit after they left. I actually missed the smell, it was so distinctively my dad's."

"Ha! Tell Sting that!"

Rogue snorted, "Sure, then you can tell him I've never heard him complain about the smell before."

"That brat..."

Still chuckling, Rogue reached out for the ashtray to tap off his ashes. His gaze fell on the book that was sitting next to it, and upon recognizing the author and title, he immediately perked up.

"That's a great book! Kemu Zaleon is one of my favorite authors, I've collected all of his works."

"Really?" Dr. Eucliffe looked at him with pleasant surprise, "So have I! Which one's your favorite? No, wait, let me guess…"

Rogue had no idea how long they'd been talking and sharing their thoughts about their favorite books when the sliding door opened, and Sting stepped out on the deck, shivering as he wasn't wearing a jacket.

He watched the conversation for a while before deciding to interrupt. "I should have seen this coming, you two are both total book nerds, " he shook his head with equal amounts amusement and disbelief. "Are you coming or what?"

"Just a minute-" Rogue raised his cigarette- the third one he’d lit this morning, "almost done.”

Unable to counter, Sting just sighed in defeat, looking back and forth between Rogue and his father and ultimately deciding to address the latter. “Do not pick that book up again old man, if we don't leave soon, we're going to hit all sorts of traffic."

“We’ll be inside shortly,” Dr. Eucliffe smiled innocently, waving his pipe in the air at Sting, “You know son, you might not be so cold if you wore clothes that actually covered your midriff.”

Rogue could tell that Sting wanted to retort something but managed to contain it, replying a rather timid, “Please hurry,” before making his way back inside.

Rogue followed his movements as he left, taking a last hit from his cigarette. He then put it out in the ashtray, not realizing that he was still staring through the glass sliding doors until he received a firm pat on his shoulder.

“We really are glad you came to visit, Rogue. We might have joked about it last night, but he did seem to miss you quite a bit.”

And with that, Dr. Eucliffe collected his book and urged him back inside the house.

~~~

Regarding holiday decorations, Rogue's hometown settled for the same simple pine garlands and Christmas lights wrapped around the street lanterns and illuminated arches overhanging the passages every year. A big tree in the shopping mall, an even bigger one on the town's square, and of course the individually decorated storefronts and displays.

He knew Crocus was different, a lot more extravagant, recalling distant memories of a family outing that must've been over a decade ago. Most of the imagery had faded away over time, but he could still remember being mesmerized by all the splendor. And though he had grown out of that childlike wonder, he was currently experiencing similar emotions.

The Edolian capital was one of the most beautiful cities he had ever visited, a fusion of old and new. Cobblestone roads and historical buildings with ornate gables, oddly enough blending effortlessly with modern structures of smooth concrete and glass. In preparation for the holidays, the city had gone all out with its decorations.

Everywhere he looked, there were garlands filled with ornaments, and there were more lights than Rogue had ever seen in his life, spun across the streets to form walkways, lining the railings of bridges and the fronts of buildings, wrapped around trees and streetlights.

"Just wait until it gets dark," Sting grinned at him as he took pictures on his phone, as befitted a proper tourist. Then again, a lot of the images he had made were not of the beautiful architecture or the enchanting Christmas scenery. Rogue was good at being stealthy, and he'd managed to snap a few pictures of Sting's parents when they weren't paying attention, checking out the shop windows or pleasantly chatting with each other. Seeing them walk together with linked arms, sharing loving gazes every now and then had made him wistful enough to want to capture the moment.

And where little over a month ago he had been on the point of deleting every single picture on his phone that had Sting in it, he just had expanded his collection in a moment of weakness. Or five.

When Rogue was sure Sting wasn't looking at him anymore, he scrolled through them quickly, surprised to see they weren't blurry like he'd imagined they'd be. "Yeah," he answered, "I bet it looks... really beautiful."

Sting was about to say something in response when he was startled by the unexpected sound of someone calling his name. He turned towards the voice, his lips immediately quirking into a smile as he seemed to recognize its owner: a girl rushing out of one of the stores to give Sting a hug.

“Sting, I didn’t know you were going to be here today!" she exclaimed, playfully swatting his arm, much to the amusement of Sting’s parents.

“Yeah, we’re showing Rogue the capital,” Sting explained, “and getting some last-minute shopping in.”

"You know how my parents are." Sting shrugged without adding any further explanation leading Rogue to wonder just how close the two were, and as he looked at her more closely, he realized something.

He recognized her from some of the pictures on Sting's bedroom wall, and even then, he'd thought she looked strangely familiar. But it wasn't until she was joined by another girl that he was finally able to make the connection. Following right behind Sting's friend was none other than the girl Rogue had met on the plane, and remembering what she'd said about visiting her sister plus the striking resemblance between the two young women told him everything he needed to know.

"Oh my God, I know you!" were the words Rogue was so hoping not to hear. "You're that guy who almost hurled on the plane!"

Begrudgingly he let his pride take the hit. He had no other explanation to give but the truth, and that certainly wasn't happening. "The one and only," he confirmed, his words sounding a bit more cynical than he would've liked. "Small world, isn't it?"

“Wow, what luck!” Sting chimed in sporting a tone Rogue recognized well. This was going to be so bad. How could he get this woman to move on?

“Well, I see you’ve met Sorano,” Sting gestured towards Rogue’s latest source of anxiety, then placed a hand on the other girl’s shoulder, “and this is her sister and also my best friend, Yukino. I’m sure you’ve heard me talk about her.”

Rogue nodded meekly, willing Sorano to take pity on him. He'd just remembered what he'd said he was doing in Edolas, and he was desperately hoping she would keep it to herself. This is why he didn't make a habit of lying, it always came back to bite you in the ass.

“Oh yeah,” Sorano looked from Sting to Rogue, her eyes suddenly narrowing in a way Rogue instantly knew did not bode well for him, “We were all sorts of chummy.”

"What was it you said you were doing here again?" Sorano tapped her finger on her cheek, rhythmically. "Visiting family, wasn't it?"

She made a point of looking around them, but before she could say anything more, help came from an unexpected quarter.

“Hey Sorano, isn’t that Sawyer over there?”

“Sawyer?! Where?” Sorano peered around excitedly, Rogue all but forgotten for the moment.

“Over by the big tree,” Yukino pointed at a group of people, “I think Erik was with him.”

"Oh, come on, Yuki!" Sorano grabbed her sister by the arm and pulled her towards the giant tree, "I want to talk to them, it's been forever!" Yukino managed a small wink and a wave at Rogue as she was dragged away by her eager sister.

For the first time since Rogue was thirteen years old, he almost had the urge to kiss a girl. Well, not really, but he was very grateful, even though he could see the smirk on Sting’s face.

“Oh, dear. They left before I could ask about the baby,” Mrs. Eucliffe complained.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll get your chance soon,” her husband assured her.

“So, you came to see family, huh?” Sting teased.

“She kept chattering on the plane, I just wanted her to stop,” Rogue tried to explain, still mortified by every word that had come out of Sorano’s mouth.

“I can totally see that,” Sting declared with a chuckle, his blue eyes shining with mirth, “Sorano can be a handful.”

They continued walking down the street, Rogue pointedly ignoring Sting's teasing as they followed the elder Eucliffes into shop after shop. They were all beautifully decorated, but there was a limit to the amount of window shopping Rogue could endure. Soon, he began to distract himself by listening to the Christmas music that was playing through the stores’ speakers.

Some of the songs were the familiar ones he'd grown up with, the lyrics translated, but there were others he didn't recognize. After asking Sting about them, he learned they were traditional Edolian Christmas songs. He began to get lost in the melodies and arrangements, breaking them down in his mind into chords until he heard a chuckling behind him.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen you go into music mode,” Sting smiled, “I’ve been meaning to ask, did you play a lot of gigs last semester?”

"Actually, I uh, didn't play any," Rogue replied, hurriedly feigning interest in a blue-colored knitted shawl. Once he actually looked at it, he decided it would make a lovely present for Mrs. Eucliffe. He used it to hopefully divert Sting's attention away from their current topic. "Hey, does your mom like shawls?"

"I guess," Sting shrugged, "but you're doing that thing where you change the subject, so I can tell something is up."

"Nothing is up. I just quit the band, that's all."

Sting knew he was holding something back, Rogue could tell by the way he looked at him. Skeptical, easily able to recognize Rogue's casual behavior for the facade it was. Rogue could only hope he wouldn't push the issue because the conversation that would follow was bound to put a huge damper on the mood, and to his great relief, Sting settled for the answer he'd been given.

"Oh, shame," Sting looked over to where his parents were poring over a display, then took a closer look at the shawl, "You know, I think she'd love this, let me see if I can distract her for you."

Sting walked over to his parents and began to talk to them, motioning behind his back for Rogue to go pay.

His transaction took longer than he'd anticipated, the clerk had offered to gift wrap the shawl for him, and on a whim he'd agreed, not wanting Mrs. Eucliffe to see it before Christmas. He found Sting waiting outside the store, and his parents nowhere to be found.

"Where are your parents?" Rogue asked, looking around to see what store they would be going to next.

“They took off, I told them you were bored,” Sting jokingly stuck out his tongue, laughing and retracting his statement once he had spotted the look of horror on Rogue’s face. “Relax, I’m kidding! I told them you- we- had no interest in watching them obsess over tea sets or whatever it is they look at for God knows how long, so they suggested we do our own thing. We'll meet them for dinner at my mom's favorite restaurant at five."

"Oh. Okay." Rogue looked down at his watch trying to figure out how long that would be.

And just as he had feared, the awkward silence that had been hanging over them yesterday made its reappearance. After the encounter with Sorano, and the thing with the band, Rogue didn't quite know how to feel about being alone with Sting. The number of questions that were undoubtedly going through both of their heads was only increasing, and Rogue didn't know if he was capable of providing answers should it be the case that Sting used this moment to ask them.

He remembered the promise he'd made himself that morning and scrambled to come up with a question or a story, anything to avoid the uncomfortable silence.

"I think I might get a cat when I get back," Rogue announced, surprising even himself by the outburst. It was true, he had been considering it, but that was still a somewhat random thing to say.

“Yeah?” Sting peered at Rogue’s face for a moment, a slight smile on his face, “I’d love to have a cat. Remember those cute ones they had when we went to the shelter that time? ”

Rogue smiled at the memory, "How I got you out of there without bringing home five cats, I'll never know."

Sting pouted in reply making Rogue's smile stretch even wider. This was better, the silence had shifted from awkward to comfortable. Sting told him some embarrassing stories about Sorano to make up for earlier, and they were soon laughing together.

Suddenly, Sting stopped moving, his attention caught by something in one of the streets. His excitement grew noticeably, and when Rogue turned to see what had gotten him so riled up, he noticed that the market square at the end of it was filled with all kinds of stands. Food vendors, stalls that sold all sorts of crafts and trinkets, and even a small funfair were gathered together, forming a Christmas market of sorts.

"Oh man, I haven't been to the fair in years!" Sting marveled. "My parents used to take me every year when I was little, there used to be this cart that sold the most epic- Wait, I think I see it over there! Come on, you have to try this!"

Before Rogue could utter a single word, he was grabbed by the hand and pulled across the street through the crowd of people going to and from the fair. Commotion surrounded them. Sounds, sights, and smells attacked Rogue's sense all at once, but everything just went right by him. His mind simply refused to focus on anything but the fact that Sting was holding his hand and hadn't let go when they had reached the less crowded part of the market. It was just a simple touch, but it was enough to stir the feelings Rogue had been trying to suppress.

Watching Sting's parents interacting with each other, still displaying the affection of a young couple after years of being together, something Rogue suspected his own parents had grown out of years ago- had evoked a sense of longing he'd been wary of acknowledging.

Now that he had, he knew the time was nearing when he would have to make a decision one way or the other. He was in love with Sting, that was something he knew before ever setting foot in Edolas, but if there was one thing he’d learned, it was that love could hurt like a bitch. Giving in to his feelings could result in pain even worse than the one he had already endured, so as a defense mechanism, he had armed himself with excuses.

Roughly six months had passed since their inevitable breakup, and Rogue had been telling himself that Sting likely didn’t feel the same way anymore. And although that notion had been proven false a few times before, there had still been enough reasonable doubt left in Rogue’s mind to fuel his insecurities.

Dr. Eucliffe’s affirmation of Sting’s feelings that morning, however, had begun to break through his barriers. Now here they were, no longer the dragger and the dragged, but walking hand in hand, and seeing Sting looking the happiest Rogue had witnessed since he arrived erased any shred of doubt he had left on that matter.

It was so frustrating though, why did they have to live so far apart? Rogue mentally sighed. Maybe the idea of a long-distance relationship wasn't so bad, and how long would they really have to sit it out anyway? Sure, Sting had many years of medical school left before he became a doctor, but Rogue only had a year and a half of college to go. If things went well, he could look into moving to Edolas. It would certainly be better than the emptiness he lived in now.

They reached the cart Sting had been so hyped about, and as he ordered two servings of waffles, he loaded them up with every possible topping, letting go of Rogue's hand so he could pay for them. Rogue didn't even try to rationalize the disappointment he felt. He had ignored his feelings long enough.

While the sun was starting to set, coloring the sky with deep shades of orange and pink, they finished their treats on a nearby bench. Rogue snorted at the first bite because its taste was exactly as sweet as he'd imagined anything Sting would get this excited about would be. Still, he had to admit it was pretty good.

"As good as I remember!" Sting praised, getting up from the bench to throw their napkins into a trash can. "Ready to resume our quest for gifts? We don't have much time left before we're meeting my parents for dinner."

"Sure, let's go," Rogue replied with a small nod. He rose to his feet, immediately reaching for Sting's hand again and intertwining their fingers. There was no missing the smile on Sting's face at the gesture, and feeling encouraged, Rogue moved closer until their arms were brushing together. The cold December weather was no match for the warm, fuzzy feeling that was spreading through him.

They continued to wind in and out of small shops finding gifts and making several additional trips to the food vendors. Now that Sting had found them, he seemed determined to sample every treat he remembered from past visits. Rogue watched horrified, worried Sting would be stuffed by the time they had to meet his parents for dinner. Then again, they probably knew their son well enough to anticipate the possibility.

The sky began to darken while they were still shopping, and when they exited the large bookseller where Rogue had purchased a copy of Kemu Zaleon's latest book for Dr. Eucliffe, they noticed the holiday lights had come on. Sting was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet in excitement, peering at Rogue's face to gauge his reaction to the ostentatious display.

As many lights as he'd thought he'd seen in daylight, there seemed to be twice as many now. They were practically everywhere, illuminating the entire Main Street with a warm golden glow, and Rogue couldn't help but be delighted by their beauty.

"Wow, that's just - I've never seen anything like that," Rogue managed to exclaim through his awe. His hands fumbled through his pockets, searching for his phone, "let me take a picture."

But when he opened the camera application, he switched to the front-face camera, closing the distance between the two of them as he threw an arm around Sting's waist and held his phone out.

"Say cheese," he directed, setting the example with a smile of his own.

They got carried away taking silly pictures together like they used to, losing track of time and ending up running to the restaurant to get there on time. They struggled to keep hold of their shopping bags, their hands never letting go of each other, even though it would have made their trek much easier.

Rogue could only think that this was the way things should be.

[impressivepress]

IN SEARCH OF MATISSE'S MOROCCO

Henri Matisse saw Tangier as an earthly paradise. The artist visited the city twice, in 1912 and 1913, in search of a new direction for his art, and found inspiration for his greatest works in the bright African light, vivid colors and languid sensuality of the Moroccan landscape and architecture, the gardens and the people.

So when I visited Morocco's fabled city on the northern rim of Africa last year, I decided to follow in the footsteps -- or rather, the brush strokes -- of Matisse. What better guide than the great artist himself? I would try to see Tangier through his eyes.

An added inducement was the upcoming exhibition -- "Matisse in Morocco" -- of paintings and newly discovered drawings executed by the artist in Tangier, which opens next Sunday at the National Gallery of Art and runs through June 3 before traveling to the Museum of Modern Art in New York. More than half the paintings are on loan from the Pushkin and Hermitage museums in the Soviet Union; some have never before been seen outside that country.

The exhibition comprises the largest group of Matisse's Moroccan works ever to be shown. That alone seemed reason enough to look for Matisse's Tangier.

Matisse did most of his paintings in Tangier's casbah, or fortress, and in the medina, or medieval walled city. "He found what he wanted there," said Jack Cowart, curator of 20th-century art at the National Gallery. "Besides, Matisse really didn't like to travel farther than about a 400-yard radius from his hotel. He always had so much baggage to move about: canvases, stretchers, paints."

Often Matisse simply stayed in his hotel room to paint. When he first arrived in Tangier in January 1912, bad weather kept him inside. He sent a grumpy postcard to Gertrude Stein informing her that for five days "it had rained incessantly." So he set a vase on his hotel dresser and painted "Vase of Irises." That work anticipated the many hotel interiors he later painted in Nice, France.

But it was the view painted from his hotel in his famous "Landscape Viewed From a Window" that I wanted most to see.

During both of his several-month visits to Tangier, Matisse stayed at the Grand Hotel Villa de France. I made my way across the Grand Socco, the bazaar area, and up the hill above the medina, through crowded streets lined with small, open-fronted shops to the old hotel. It sits apart on a promontory high above the modern center of town with its wide boulevards and smart shops.

"Guests book their rooms here a year in advance," the desk clerk told me. And the frayed luxury of the hotel's portrait-lined lounges, blue-tiled courtyards, fountains, swimming pool, long terraces and gardens thick with pink hibiscus, white trumpet flowers and spiky green cactus coiling up the dark trunks of palm trees all seemed wildly romantic to me. No wonder Matisse stayed here!

In lofty comfort he looked down on the bright white city with its deep blue bay. I had to see his room!

But No. 35 was taken, I was told, by an artist from Japan who had reserved it for one month.

"Then I'm sure she won't mind if I knock on her door," I said. A most reluctant clerk led the way.

Maria Takakuwa smiled at my request and bowed me into the rather small, simple room. It was sparsely furnished in a hard, square, 1930s style -- certainly not the decor of Matisse's time. But the same tall shutters stood open, and palettes, brushes and tubes of oil paint littered the room and covered the bed.

She motioned me into the large old-fashioned bathroom. There, on two straight-backed chairs, Takakuwa had propped the big canvas she was working on. "This," she said, pointing out the bathroom window, "was Matisse's view." Together we leaned on the sill and looked out.

Below we saw what Matisse had painted in the "Landscape Viewed From a Window": the green-tiled roofs and square white steeple of St. Andrew's English church, now nearly hidden by date palms and evergreens; the white city; the tall, square, tiled minaret; the casbah on the distant hill and the sapphire Mediterranean Sea beyond. It was a magic moment.

Later, a small boy led me through a maze of alleyways in the medina, up a narrow, steep street of shallow steps to the casbah. We entered through Bab el Assa, or lookout gate. Here Matisse had set up his easel to paint the distant view of Tangier. He used the gate as a frame, foreshortening, rearranging and adding elements to suit his composition until all that remained the same as the actual setting was the shape of the gate and the distinctively Moroccan mood in his magnificent painting, "Casbah Gate."

Next to the Bab el Assa is the wall fountain, dry now, whose brightly colored patterned tiles, which appear so often in Matisse's paintings, are still in place.

In the casbah is the Dar el Makhzen, a former royal palace, now a museum, where Matisse presumably studied the beautiful tile work, wandered in the garden and absorbed the Islamic atmosphere. It was a new, exotic world. Its impact, according to Cowart, was "the hinge" between Matisse's earlier European fauvist style and his more original, powerful later work.

The "Moroccan Cafe"that Matisse painted has changed, however. Although men still are the predominant cafe patrons in this orthodox Moslem country, only a few continue to wear turbans or red fezzes with long black tassels. Yet most Moroccan women remain veiled, dressed in drab gray or black, their mouths covered with white cloths. Matisse probably found his colorfully dressed models, both male and female, in the souks or markets, where today Riffian tribesmen stride through the crowded lanes in striped djellabas, and Berber tribal women in wide-brimmed, conical straw hats topped with pompoms carry their babies on their backs.

Matisse painted his "Acanthus," "Periwinkles (Moroccan Garden)" and "The Palm" in the garden of a private villa owned by an Englishman. Then as now, life went on behind high walls.

For the outsider, wandering through Tangier's streets of flat facades is like being in the desert, looking at blank walls that one knows enclose lush oases. Hidden by monochrome exteriors are richly decorated interiors. Plain outside, patterned inside.

Hotels attempt to create the atmosphere of Arab palaces with thick carpets, mirrored walls, brass pots and tiled courtyards. Their rooms are large and public, however, conveying none of the intimate secretiveness of Arab architecture.

But there is a rambling, 30-room palace in the medina where visitors can get a true sense of the typical Arab palace. The Tangier American Legation building, given to the United States by the sultan of Morocco 169 years ago, is the oldest diplomatic property of the United States to be continuously owned, and is open to the public.

I rounded the corner of Rue d'Amerique in the old Jewish Quarter and saw above me, on the building spanning the narrow street, the Great Seal of the United States and a massive, wooden, nail-studded double door with another Great Seal. I pushed the bell and, stepping over the threshold, found myself in a little courtyard, complete with fountain.

The museum is a honeycomb of rooms great and small: reception rooms, secret rooms, courtyards and a Moroccan pavilion, adorned with curved marble staircases, massive fireplaces, Portuguese grillwork and carved wooden ceilings. But there is more than architecture to delight the senses. Besides many historic documents, there are fine 18th-, 19th- and 20th-century engravings, drawings and paintings. I admired a huge oil painting of a sultan with his splendid horse, a portrait of Maxwell Blake (who served as American consul general in Tangier in the early 1900s) and fascinating old photographs of the legation reception rooms when they were in diplomatic use.

I was fascinated with the works of John McBey, a Scot who lived in Tangier from the 1930s through the 1950s and who executed many etchings and watercolors of Moroccan scenes. Expertly done, they are almost photographic in their realism. As the museum's director pointed out, it is only in the context of such works that one can fully appreciate the stunning originality of Matisse's paintings.

Outside the museum, I walked through the gate of the medina and up the hill toward St. Andrew's, the Anglican church whose roofs and steeple Matisse had painted.

The churchyard, with its pleasant, slightly overgrown cemetery, sits at the foot of the Grand Hotel Villa de France's promontory. There I found mostly English graves bearing such evocative inscriptions as "Lost at sea" or "In the Zulu wars." The church is an artful collaboration of Christian tradition and Arab architecture. The Moorish archway so loved by Matisse is the design of the chancel arch. Carved around it, in Arabic script, is the Lord's Prayer.

As I left the church and walked down the winding path hedged by huge hibiscus bushes, I noticed a small structure inside the churchyard wall near the gate. It was a cubbyhole, really, just large enough to accommodate the white-bearded, robed and turbaned man who reclined inside, writing on some papers in his lap. Another Moroccan, dressed in trousers and a sweater, sat cross-legged on the ground in front of the scribe. Altogether an incongruous sight in an Anglican churchyard. As the American composer and writer Paul Bowles once remarked: In Morocco, "everything that is not medieval is new."

It was a stunning reminder of the contrasting images that make up Tangier. Through Matisse's eyes I saw a fabulous city, filled with sharp contrasts of light and shadow accentuated by the luminous blues of sea and sky. But always there was a background cacophony of drums beating, roosters crowing, church bells ringing and the muezzins' calls to the faithful for prayers, to remind me that Tangier is an ancient city, a marvelous mixture of things medieval and modern, Moroccan and European, with much left to explore.

~ Luree Miller · Mar 11, 1990.

Luree Miller is a Washington writer whose most recent book is "Literary Villages of London" (Starrhill Press).

[mamoonkhpal]

L’Auberge Mélangeur

                                                            I

          I wonder how far the muezzin’s call to prayer echoes over the rooftops and across the strait to Tarifa, where the southernmost tip of Spain faces Morocco. On my tiny enclave, where I am perched among multitudinous satellite dishes, the coast of the Tarifa appears to encroach closer than I initially considered. I could feel the crushing proximity of this strait as if I was standing on a thread strung above Le Ville Nouvelle. There is a greater expectancy inside the medina over the arrival of the evening prayers than from some of my new counterparts inside the hostel. L’Auberge Melangeur is a large riad cloistered tightly by busy neighbouring dwellings of families with many children. The maître d’ revealed the riad had been host to numerable personalities during its tenure inside the International Zone, and it would be host to the beginning of my traveller’s sojourn inside the country too. The streets are beautiful in daylight, but menacing in the night. The torpor from the heat has cast my roommates into dances above this strange menagerie. On arriving in Tangier, my fortune instantaneously sunk with the town’s past upheavals and fraught history. The view from above leaves the impression of the town having collided with time like the trumpeting pages on Morocco I read before arriving in Tangier. The hostel lies just behind the Hotel Continental, which faces the port where the sun was setting, and the evening’s rambles would enliven later. I was lying on the roof terrace under the dry heat of the sky, when Marc, sleeping on the floor above mine, would jar astray to the hashish bellowing from the sinews inside the medina. As per the quotidian, a potion of smoke and music perfumes the streets each evening. And over the Hotel Continental towards the seafront the rolling tides forbids crowds from leaving the promenade anytime soon.

                                                      ……

To Amine’s amusement Marc embraces him firmly than asks, ‘So, did you just arrive?’

‘Yes’, Amine said with more apprehension than excitement.

Marc retorted quickly, and explained how he discovered the hostel. ‘I’ve come from Paris while visiting an uncle. I am now here for the foreseeable future. What are you doing? Marc was dressed feebly with a few rags on his torso and shoes he described as disintegrating. His face bore a dishevelled beard concealing eyes sunken with fatigue, and an overworked trilby which unleashed his frayed tresses. ‘I am searching through the Atlas Mountains to look for Berber musicians in the desert.’ He quickly paid attention to Amine’s hand then appealed in earnest to the splint propping his left wrist.

‘Did you break a bone?’

Amine was exasperated to answer. ‘Uh. Yeah. I was on my bicycle when a car struck me in London’

‘How terrible!’ Marc’s face fixed surprise.

The odour of hashish became more distinct once the local boys arrived after school. They were neighbours living beside the hostel who would smoke outside their homes after and between breaks. The perfume led Amine and Marc outside the hostel and onto the streets when the night began its slow descent into crimson blue. They were tacit in their steps entering the cobwebbed inlets which ran towards the petite socco, 5 minutes away. The old town lost all geometry after a few turnings between the ceilings of tall buildings looming upwards.

            An Arabic horn rumbled deceitfully from the sky. They usually bring nocturnal life into séance during the evenings. A requisite of some dexterity was necessary for crossing the streets among so many weird figures, or scattering children inside the medina, Amine reflected. ‘There’s a café behind the old jailhouse. It’s near the museum’, Marc explained to Amine. He appeared worried but Marc bade he follow him on and smiled so to remind him that he was now more confident with the area over his weeks of stay in Tangier. They climbed higher along a narrowing path. Amine noticed the men appeared more like spiders in their djellabas then humans. ‘It’s just here’, Marc pointed towards the Place de la Kasbah overlooking the bay, where the ships were moored. The floodlights below dotted the highway along the harbour, which reflected light onto the old prison where Marc had taken Amine. The sky had darkened into night and further ahead on the tapered path was the Café Marc mentioned earlier. They crept further into the bellowing smoke which rose into the air. And after making some way through, the noise surrounding the pair retreated until their path was silent, only echoed by passing traffic coming from the highway. They would walk through this narrowing pathway until Amine could only hear faint thuds of music in the distance, trudging closely behind Marc. The noise became audible and the pair could see through the sprawling fauna crowds inside the café listening to disco music. On arrival Marc was firmly embraced by Yusif, the owner of the café. He was a gangly figure grasping a pipe of khif in his hand and wearing a large pair of luminous, yellow pointed babouches. He immediately bade the two sit with another group of guests on the terrace outside, facing the port.

Yusif was searching for more Khiff inside his leather waist pouch before handing it freely among Marc’s friends who were speaking French among themselves.

He fixed his eyes on Amine, ‘What is your name habib?’

“Amine”

Eh! ‘What?’ He drew his tall figure towards him to listen more closely

“AM-I-NE,”

‘Ah, you are a Moslem habib. My name is Yu-sif, and I am the owner. This café was my father’s until he passed away 3 years ago. I now run it and also have some clothing businesses nearby. My house too is also along that road. Habib, make yourself welcome here.’

A group of Austrian travellers were sat with Marc’s friend Giuseppe, from Italy. The younger man was disguising a blonde ponytail beneath a stylish black trilby. The den was reverberating smoke between the floor and the ceiling. Yusif had sat with his personal guests and ordered more fresh mint tea from a bald man preparing large bunches of mint behind the café counter. He was infamous for receiving swarms of street cats from the Place de Kasbah, who would perform unbeknown routes to Yusif’s café for detritus fish. They would loiter on the terrace of the café sometimes and entertain the guests before he would have them cleared. He was one of the many assistants he employed to manage his local businesses in the busy area.

‘Giuseppe, this is Amine’, Marc interjected momentarily.

Giuseppe pressed Amine with fascination and asked him boldly, ‘Why are you in Tangier?’

Amine was sat in silence opposite a couple. Julia who was on his left, finished the remainder of her cigarette, then struck him into conversation.

‘What do you do Amine?’

He was pensive now, and the few inhalations he took inside the café dissembled his retort sibilant between his slow exhales. ‘I was a stooge inside a restaurant in London, by the river Thames. A few weeks earlier a car struck my bike and I fell landing on my hand. After that I left for Tangier’, Amine presented his bandaged wrist to her for review.

Julia was a vision. Her blue eyes were drifting aimlessly as Amine spoke. She smiled momentarily then offered him her condolences. ‘What will you do while you are in Tangier?’ she asked in her distinctly continental tone. Marc moved inside the café on the cushions beside some musicians strumming in the corner of the café, and Julia introduced her boyfriend Tobias beside her, and offered Amine some of their khif with his mint tea. She placed a small black atom in the centre of his right palm that was obscenely fragrant and pleasing. He would prepare the khif into a desperate looking joint he lighted unawares despite his maladroit hand. The herbal infusion mixed with the tobacco, raised lofty undulations through his chest and fresh aromas of aniseed and fennel up his nasal passages. She confidently poured the tea at some height into his cup like the fashionable Moroccan men Amine saw in the medina serving tea among their friends. She then placed a sugar cube carefully inside his right hand. Julia and Tobias were at the height of Viennese chic in the café. They continued smoking profusely before recommending I visit the local cafés and bazars in the medina. ‘I’m sorry to hear of your accident Amine. I am tutoring at the local university’, Julia said. We ordered another round of mint teas between us, though Giuseppe declined and continued puffing on his khif. ‘There is a festival in Marrakech happening soon and I am meeting a few friends later on with Tobias. You are welcome to join us, we’ll be in Marrakech within a fortnight,’ Julia smiled with excitement. Marc then retrieved a leather bound writing journal from the crèche inside the café where a group of musicians were strumming. He carried on explaining that he was heading towards the desert to learn more on Berber music with folk musicians he was looking for. He had finished meetings with a local village chief yesterday who promised he would host him for the coming days inside his home near Essaouira at a discounted rate. Giuseppe was facing the window looking outwards towards the ocean. He was also smoking profusely at a roll of hashish. The wind flushed gales through the awning and ruffled beneath his black trilby. He leered towards Amine with high spirits, and asked  ‘Are you enjoying Tangier?’

‘Yeah sure, I am. But the reputation of the city goes unchallenged, I can feel varmints in the air.’

[ireadnowi]

Holiday in Madeira: Top 10 things to do in Madeira

Madeira – the just about untapped islands are a tropical destination offering adventurous nature tracks, blissed out sunbathing and a side of Portuguese culture that’s unique from that of the mainland. We hiked up mountains (to chase waterfalls, yes literally).

we indulged in local delicacies, eating at remarkable restaurants, and mostly we chilled call at the sun, forever surrounded by panoramic views, lush nature and endless stretches of the Atlantic.

This visit was a part of a gifted press trip with Visit Madeira, however, all opinions are my very own. Read on to ascertain what we got up to during our stay in Funchal, Madeira.

Top 10 things to try to to in Madeira. Activities madeira-cable-car-Top-things-to-do-in-madeira-Bucket-list--Instagram-Story-Template--kelseyinlondon-Kelsey-Heinrichs--What-to-do-in-madeira--Where-to-go-in-madeira-top-places-in-madeira-

1. Ride on the car

The most efficient/novelty thanks to ascending the very steep Funchal slopes is to catch the Madeira car. The destination? We hitched a ride up to the Monte Palace Tropical Gardens and you'll conveniently buy a combo ticket to both attractions for 31,40€. Along your journey within the glass cars, you’ll be treated to sky-high views of Funchal, surrounded by the Atlantic blues. The journey itself only lasts quarter-hour but is certainly not one to miss. No got to book tickets beforehand, you'll simply purchase a ride at the station.

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2. Visit Monte Palace Tropical Gardens

When we finally reached the highest of the gorgeous car ride, we had a full morning to explore the magical Monte Palace Tropical Gardens. Once a lavish 18th-century hotel, the location was bought by José Berardo in 1987 and transformed into a tropical public attraction, covering 70,000 square meters of exotic plants, lakes, fountains, and wildlife.

As you stroll through the gardens, you'll admire the gorgeous ceramic tile collection portraying the history of Portugal, including the foremost important social, cultural and non-secular events. If you get the prospect to go to, I’d recommend wearing some shoes with some serious grip for the steep cobbles that wind around the gardens – I spent a good amount of your time gripping Justin’s arm sort of vice.

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3. Lunch at Restaurante Do Forte

This restaurant is found within the walls of the historical fortress of São Tiago. Constructed in 1614, the brilliant yellow-colored walls of the fortress are like the palaces in Sintra on mainland Portugal. At Restaurante Do Forte you'll be seated during a romantic setting, with a view of the ocean to enjoy whilst eating your way through a various gastronomic menu featuring international cuisine with traditional Madeiran ingredients.

Not only is that the restaurant during a stunning location, but each dish that came out was also an edible work of art! We started with the seafood trilogy of scallop, shrimp, and squid. For mains, Justin and that I both tucked into their Surf & Turf – Beef fillet with prawn and sea bream + roasted shallot cream, the meat was incredibly succulent and pair perfectly with the accompanying vegetables. For dessert, I had the Pistachio delight – caramel, meringue kisses, gooseberry gel + pistachio sponge which was (almost) too pretty to eat.

Restaurante Do Forte-Top-things-to-do-in-madeira-Bucket-list--Instagram-Story-Template--kelseyinlondon-Kelsey-Heinrichs--What-to-do-in-madeira--Where-to-go-in-madeira-top-places-in-madeira-Doca do Cavacas - Top-things-to-do-in-madeira-Bucket-list--Instagram-Story-Template--kelseyinlondon-Kelsey-Heinrichs--What-to-do-in-madeira--Where-to-go-in-madeira-top-places-in-madeira-Doca do Cavacas

4. Swim at Doca do Cavacas

For our Judgment Day in Madeira, we visited Doca do Cavacas – a posh of natural pools with direct sea access. It costs a measly 2€ euro to urge in and a further 4.90€ for 2 sunbeds + an umbrella for the whole day, a solid bargain if you inquire from me.

We came here on a weekday which I might highly recommend doing, as obviously a spot as gorgeous as this is often completely rammed on the weekends, and spaces are limited. We spent a couple of hours chilling within the sun then headed up to the particular restaurant of Doca do Cavacas, where I enjoyed some fresh garlic prawns, of course. Will there be one holiday where I don’t eat them? I hope not!

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5. Explore Zona Velha (the old town)

In the charming backstreets of Funchal’s old town, Zona Velha, you'll find over 200 painted doors as a part of the aptly named Painted Doors Project which transforms this area into an outside gallery. Head to Zona Velha for an active atmosphere, it’s where Funchal’s hottest nightlife venues and restaurants are located with most of the action happening on Rua de Santa Maria. Walking through the narrow cobblestones streets of the Old Town also will lead you to the gorgeous Socorro Church.

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6. Enjoy the simplest views of Funchal

While there are many “miradouros” (viewpoints) dotted around the hilly slopes of Funchal – we got a tip-off from the locals to go here for the simplest panoramic views of the town and harbor below. One evening we packed our bags with a couple of bevies and caught a taxi to the present spot (don’t plan to walk because the climb is V unforgiving). We watched the sun drench the town during a golden-red glow before setting behind the clouds and watching the hills illuminate during a mesmerizing sparkle.

7. Immerse yourself in traditional Madeiran culture

On the primary night of our visit, with no real agenda, we stumbled across a leaflet from our hotel advertising a “Typical Maderia evening” with traditional Madeiran food, music, dancing, and free-flowing booze? Hold my phone.

We received the restaurant excited at the prospect of unlimited grilled meat + drinks and a vast chance of being dragged abreast of the stage to embarrass ourselves! We quickly realized that we were far and away from the youngest people within the place by a solid 30 years. However, we fully embraced the hilarity, making a toast with the elderly couple sat opposite us on the table and proceeded to drink a bottle of white within the space it took them to drink their first glass!

The grilled meat was incredible, made all the more enticing by being hung high above the table on massive iron skewers! Justin quickly ate himself into a beef-based coma by the time the cultural Folklore dancing began….and then found himself being grabbed by the dancers decked in bizarre-looking hats. He was in time at the rear of a line – fully knowing he couldn’t break off at the danger of starting ANOTHER line.

For 30 euro each including a transfer/to from the hotel – it had been banging deal for our first night in Madeira where we soaked up their local culture, dishes, and alcohol! Booking is often made here.

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8. continue a Levada Walk

Much as I like a glam holiday moment, you can’t beat going for an honest ol’ hike within the forest and Maderia has some incredible trails to explore! We were lucky enough to possess a personal guide to accompany us on a famous Levada walk.

“Levada” maybe a Portuguese word derived from the word “levar” – which suggests holding. These mini-canals are irrigation systems developed to distribute water from the rainfall heavy and wet regions along far distances to banana plantations, vineyards, fruit orchards, and vegetable gardens. They wind around the mountains of Madeira, making them ideal walking paths for keen hikers.

We hit the Levada do Caldeirão Verde track which was about an hour's drive from Funchal. The walk was so beautiful but not without its scary moments. There are very narrow paths with huge drops to the side and little tunnels to squat your way through #legday! The highlight of the walk found us at the bottom of a 100ft waterfall that left us with a small neck ache staring up at it.

Our guide packed us a picnic, so we tucked into sandwiches, refreshments and a famous pastel de nata to refuel for the long sun-drenched forest walk back. I highly recommend booking a guide, not only is it cheaper than catching a taxi (as transfers to/from your hotel are included), but you’ll have the added comfort of safety, experience and lunch is included too!

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9. Drink cocktails at Sé Boutique Hotel’s Rooftop Bar

An Instagrammable rooftop bar serving delicious cocktails will always call to me sort of a siren. Sé Boutique Hotel‘s terrace bar is hospitable to the general public and may be accessed via the hotel lobby. there's no cocktail menu here, just sit back and relax and let their barman, Rui, do all the work, he’s the expert in any case. He made us their signature drink ‘The Flamingo’, which went down smoothly and quickly. Come here for sunset and luxuriate in the 360° views over the town of Funchal. Stay to mingle with the locals and guests of the hotel, it’s the right thanks to starting a night in Funchal.

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10. Dinner at DC Atelier Restaurant

Wow, what an experience. If you’re visiting Madeira to celebrate a birthday, an anniversary or just the very fact you’re a wonderful person – then treat yourself to a monumental fine dining experience at DC Atelier Restaurant located at the Nini Design Centre Restaurant. the planning center was born from the skills of Portuguese designer, Nini Andrade Silva. Built into the jagged rocks of the old fort, the center’s design features take inspiration from Nina’s favorite art subject: pebbles. Everything from the elevator, furniture and right down to the serving plates combat some sort of a pebble-like shape or texture.

The restaurant is found on the highest floor boasting views looking back at the town of Funchal, which in the dark is illuminated by thousands of twinkling lights. The menu features fresh seafood and re-interpretations of traditional Madeira dishes with Atlantic cuisine.

We started with the nice and cozy Tiger prawn salad with a wine reduction, and as I write this I'm hit with a momentary pang of sadness as I realize ready to | I'll"> I will be able to never be able to eat this dish anytime soon (until my next visit to Madeira, of course). it had been THAT good. For mains, we divided and conquered two different portions of meat – lacquered duck + the catch of the day with a mustard crust and potato terrine. Dessert was the Salty Caramel Cheesecake which a piece of art in itself – again the planning nodding to the pebble theme of the restaurant with caramel balls sprinkled throughout.

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Four Views Baía

Located within the center of Funchal, the Four Views Baía hotel is during a prime position, with epic views of the bay of Funchal. We were welcomed by the stunning hotel staff who gave us an excellent rundown of the local spots within the area and showed us to our incredible suite on the 11th floor. The view from our balcony (which mind you, if you saw from my Instagram stories then you'd have seen was 3 times the dimensions of our room) was simply breath-taking!

On top of everything, our suite had it’s own bathtub bath with floor to ceiling windows so we could watch the sunsets from the tub! The decor is sleek and modern, and therefore the room featured a little kitchenette, LCD TV and free access to their spa. The hotel offers a variety of entertainment, head on right down to their Woogie Boogie Bar for various evening events and activities.

The standout of this hotel is undoubtedly their outdoor swimming bath where you'll chill and absorb the views of the Funchal harbor and surrounding hills. There’s also a heated indoor pool for those visiting Madeira within the slightly colder months.

[hellomissmabel]

Only if for a night

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Chris Evans x reader, Hal Carter x reader

Summary: the prompt was “my relationship status” for @emilyevanston her cards against humanity challenge. Y/N finds herself intriguid by a summer stranger and reflects on her life. Loosely based on the series “The Affair”.

Word count: 3.424 (magic number!)

Warnings: Mentions of loss of a child, drowning, cheating and sexual activity. There’s unprotected sex, too, so please wrap it before you tap it. People under 18, this is not your cup of tea.

A/N: Florence and the machine fans will know...

Tag list is open for any and all of my stories

I live in a small town where everybody knows everybody. A small town that lives off tourism and the “summer people”, those folks who only show some kind of interest in our lives for as long as the summer keeps them from returning to their Upper East side life. To be honest, I expected him to be just like that. Do nothing but spend his money and chill on the beach with his filthy rich friends for the entirety of two months. He was a writer, a Hollywood screenwriter residing in Boston during half of the year with his family and in New York for the other half to work on his next big project.

We met for the first time at one of the events some Wall Street hotshot organised on a weekly basis for his fancy friends. My bestie Grace and I were working as cocktail waitresses, much to my dismay. I didn’t want to take the gig but since we’ve been short on money for a while now and it’s a debt the summer people are unlikely to pay off for me. The thing about summer people is that they’re just that, summer people, people here for the summer. They judge us, the people that live in town, with our ordinary lives and our ordinary occupations. Yet at the same time they are happy to profit from our goods and services. But not him.

He was nursing a glass of Jack Daniels, sitting on the far end of the terrace, nearby the pool. Grace had noticed him throwing glances my way every now and then and every so often made a comment about it herself. “Look at the summer stranger and his heart eyes” or “I wouldn’t mind a beard burn from that man”. Yet it wasn’t her sexually suggestive commentary that enticed me to take the plunge and go over to him, this summer man with his summer clothes and his summer money, looking for an innocent flirtation.

It’s because he’s just like me, an outsider in their inside world. He belongs, with his summer clothes and his summer money, to the establishment that can afford to live the high life ever year for two months straight. But just because he has the clothes or the money doesn’t mean his mind follows the set of rules that is culturally and socially associated with that kind of wealth. He seemed more down to earth than all the other summer strangers just passing through.

“Hi there,” I greeted him with a small yet kind smile.

“Hello,” he replied softly, romantic blue eyes settling their gaze on my lips as I spoke to him. “I was wondering when you were going to come over.”

I sat with him on the edge of the pool, our feet dipping into the cold and soothing water, long after the party had ended and the guests had vacated the premises. He knew the man hosting the party and knew he probably wouldn’t mind us hanging around a little longer, probably too drunk off his ass to give a shit.

“Did you enjoy the party?,” I asked him, trying to break the ice, twiddling with the hem of my high-waisted shorts that gladly replaced the little black dress I wore for the occasion.

He shook his head, chuckling. “No. I didn’t enjoy the party.” He took a sip of his drink, looking at me from the corner of his eye, seemingly amused. “Let’s just talk about something else, shall we?”

So we talked. We talked about his job and how his writing was going. Turns out it wasn’t going at all. He lacked inspiration. He lacked a muse. I chose to indulge him and listened to him speaking about how his last script got rejected due to a lack of suspense. His editor didn’t like the ending he delivered because it was different from what he had first promised him. But, so he said, sometimes the story takes over and the writer loses control and that’s exactly what happened. He was stuck on an ending that wasn’t going to make the cut. So here he was, talking to a pretty summer girl in a pretty summer dress, hoping to find the right ending.

“I divorced my wife a little while ago. I still see the kids every now and then. They live in Boston and I live in New York,” he explained to me in his gentle voice. “She has always been my inspiration and so when I left my wife, I left my muse behind as well.”

“What happened?,” I inquired as the curious little creature I am.

“I cheated on her.”

His voice didn’t give away any sign of remorse. He stated it as a fact, a fact that he expected to disgust me. But it didn’t, because he’s a summer man and a lot of the summer men I’ve encountered during these many past summers have cheated on their wives, their girlfriends or their paramours at some point. But only a few of them actually file the divorce papers, afraid to lose their high-maintenance image and the perfect family life that’s anything but perfect.

When he couldn’t find any sign of disgust or surprise laced in my expression, he tilted his head in my directions and levelled me up from head to toe, intrigued. “I cheated on her last summer with a waitress.”

Very early on, I had already sensed that our conversation was heading that way. Maybe he liked me for my body or my potential to be a great summer fling. And maybe I came up to him for the exact same reason, a summer lover on a hot summer night. “If this is your way of getting into my panties,” I laugh lightly, my eyes trained on his still, “You should know a something about me first.”

He nodded, his interest peaked. “My guess is that it’s about your relationship status. You’re seeing someone, aren’t you? A beautiful woman like yourself is rarely available.”

“Your guess is correct. I am a married woman.”

“But you’re so young,” he counters in his defence.

“I married young,” I replied casually, continuing with my story.

I told him how my husband and I got hitched right after high school. How he had taken up a job at his father’s ranch to provide for us and to be able to pay off my college debts. And then his father died and he inherited the ranch. It was a lot of work, it still is a lot work, and almost all of our money goes to that ranch. But he loves it just as much as he loves me, so we keep it for as long as we’re allowed to.

“It’s been a struggle. A struggle that has dragged our marriage downhill.”

Of course there’s a huge chunk of information I didn’t disclose with this summer stranger. I somehow forgot to mention that when I got pregnant, I couldn’t go all the way to school anymore and certainly not once the baby was born. So anyway, I had to drop out and my husband thus took on a second job to keep us afloat. When our son was big enough, I found a part-time job at one of the local restaurants as a waitress, which is where I met my best friend Grace.

And then my boy died. My son drowned.

I always blamed my husband for not paying enough attention even though he was only distracted for a couple seconds. You see, he took our boy to the beach to collect sea shells and to see if they could perhaps spot some exotic sea creatures. But he just had to take his stupid brother along with him, always nagging on and on about how he was going to make the big money and get the hell out of here. How he was going to make it to the big city and one day show up here with all the other summer people, too. My husband was getting sick of it and told him to just stop talking and enjoy this day out. As he was reprimanding his brother, he lost sight of our boy for just a couple seconds too long, my baby drifting further into the water in pursuit of a fish. And then the big wave came.

“Where is your husband now?,” the summer stranger asked, oblivious to the personal tragedy playing in my mind.

“At home, playing cards with his buddies.”

“So he won’t miss you for another hour?”

“Probably not,” I sighed softly, watching intently the waves my feet produced as they wandered through the clear-blue, chloric water of the pool.

“Let’s go for a swim then,” he suggested, standing up and offering his hand for me take. “Come on,” he encouraged, “Let’s go to the beach and have a swim.”

Despite my fear for the water that swallowed my son’s soul, his calloused hands wrapped protective around my own made me feel like I had been afraid of nothing more than my own imagination. He radiated strength, masculinity and a certain softness these summer men rarely disclose. He only let go of my hand to shed himself of his clothes and strip to his boxers. I followed suit and unbuttoned my shorts and sleeveless blouse. When you’re living so close to the sea, you’re used to wearing your bikini or swimsuit underneath your clothes in case you’re invited to an impromptu party at the beach.

Stepping into the waves, his back turned to me, I could clearly make out the well-defined muscles on his back. They rippled deliciously with every move he made, reminding me of my husband. Men like him, men like this summer stranger and my husband, they are used to female attention. They thrive underneath the gaze of many young and old women longing for a taste of their divine. I have learnt to put up with the constant sideway glances I receive from women who think I’m less than what my husband deserves. All the summer women who think of him as nothing but a piece of meat, an extramarital dessert to their husband’s main course. Or the local women who know of our history and put the blame on me. If I hadn’t been such a bad mother, I would’ve gone with my husband and his brother to keep an eye on my boy.

And suddenly he was facing me, capturing me with his strong embrace and twirling me in the water. “You look so damn sexy,” his voice echoed with the splatter of water. My hearty laugh filled the night-time air and caused the moonlight to clear up his features. Then he put me down again and cupped my face, kissing me sweetly on the lips. Pulling back again for air, he gauged my reaction but wasn’t given much time before I laced my hands around his neck and crashed my mouth to his again.

We kissed and as we did so, his fingertips danced to my butt and he lifted me up so I could hook my legs around his waist. Walking from the cold water of the sea to the hot sand of the beach, he sat me down on a nearby rock and moved to stand between my legs.

“You’re married,” he exhales breathlessly, tucking a strand of my sea-soaked hair behind my ear.

“You’re divorced,” I answered cheekily, leaning into his touch as he cradled my cheek in the palm of his hand.

“I cheated on my wife. It shook up my entire life. I don’t want to ruin yours the same way I ruined hers.”

“Don’t worry about me. Tomorrow is a new day.”

“My house is just five minutes down the beach.”

Turns out summer men are excellent lovers. I’ve heard stories, many very detailed stories. From girls I work with that hook up with summer men after closing time and girls that come to the ranch with their summer sugar daddies. Somehow my husband never asked me if I ever fancied one of those summer men. Like I mentioned before, I knew very well that most of the women in town and practically all of the summer women wanted my husband, wanted sexual favours from my husband like he’s just some stable boy straight out of a B-list movie. But that’s the thing about losing a child, it breaks a marriage just as much as it mends it. Losing my boy didn’t make me love my husband any less. Losing my boy didn’t make my husband love me any less. It just made our marriage suffer.

As the sheets surround me and my summer lover, we began our mutual quest. He insisted on getting me off first, placing my legs onto his shoulders as he sucked gingerly on my clit. Engulfing my entrance with his mouth, his tongue teased my wet folds. My heath welcomed the wanted intrusion of his fingers pumping slowly, hitting that sweet spot with perfect precision as he curled them over and over again. He was eager to drink up my juices and sucked his fingers clean afterwards, a proud smirk plastered on his handsome face.

Crawling up my body, he peppered kisses all over the scars that time and childbirth have left on my skin. Even though some of them are quite visible, the darkness of night and the intimacy of the moment kept him blind to them. I told him not to leave any marks or any bruises before we embarked on our sinful adventure.

When our lips met in a fiery kiss, he rolled us over so I was on top. Sitting back, straddling his legs, I brushed away the hair in front of his eyes and leaned in for another passionate kiss. Then it was my turn to give him the pleasure he sought after upon our first meeting earlier the same evening. From base to tip, I licked his proud cock, stroking his stomach with impatient desire. He tried to swallow his moans when I close my lips around him, but he failed at such endeavours once I started bobbing my head. Sucking him off with fervour, I took him as far as I can without gagging, relaxing my throat and massaging his balls to speed up the process of his release. He came rather quickly, his hot cum leaving a salty aftertaste on my tongue.

But just like my husband, he wasn’t completely satisfied unless his partner is. Quickly switching positions again, he pressed his lips to mine in a needy kiss, the tip of his cock nudging my labia and spreading my arousal to ensure he was able to ease himself inside me gently. When he was finally fully sheathed, stretching me out with his well-endowed length, the summer stranger allowed me to take as much time as I needed to adjust to his generous size. Luckily, so I told him, my husband is a big boy himself and soon he started to thrust languidly but deeply, building up to a pleasure so pure it should be forbidden.

My fingernails dug into the strong flesh of his shoulders and back whilst he kept my hips in place as he picked up the pace, going from soft and tender sex to a straight-up punishing pace. With laboured breaths, he pounded into me and I spread my legs as far as possible to feel as much as possible.

“Fuck, you are so tight,” he whispered into my ear, nibbling shortly on my earlobe before ghosting his hot breath over my throat. “I want to take you from behind. Smack that gorgeous ass of yours as I cum,” he ordered with shallow, low grunts.

Pulling out of me entirely, he swiftly turned me onto my stomach. “Take me whatever way you want. I’m yours,” I panted heavily.

Resuming his rough ministrations, he buried himself to the hilt, one hand clutching my breast while the other snaked underneath me to play with my clit. “That’s it baby, moan for me. Moan for daddy.”

His impressive strength, insatiable stamina and muscle built allows for multiple orgasm in various positions. “You never asked me for my name,” he growled when our third orgasm sent us both to seventh heaven once again.

“You didn’t ask for mine either,” I cried out as I threw my head back, screaming in pleasure with a string of profanities on my lips.

His thrusts faltered as he rode out our orgasms, moaning loudly with pornographic impact. “The name’s Chris. Chris Evans.”

As he slid off me, I laughed heartily. “Nice to meet you, Chris Evans. Thank you for giving me the best fuck in a long time.”

Chris walked over to the bathroom to fetch us some wet wash cloths to clean us up and I watched him intently, sitting on the edge of the bed. “The name’s Y/N. Y/N Carter.”

“Well, Y/N. I guess I should thank you for providing me with enough inspiration to rewrite my ending,” he called over his shoulder. “Do you mind if I keep you around as my muse?”

“Your mistress, you mean,” I corrected.

“My muse,” he stressed, turning around and leaning against the bathroom sink. “You fuck your mistress and call it a day,” Chris explained with a mischievous smile, “But you fuck your muse and come up with one hell of a story.”

When I come home, my husband Hal is waiting for me, sitting in his chair at the kitchen table. He taps the wood of the table impatiently, his eyes lost in thought until they lock with mine. “Y/N! Where were you?,” he asks urgently, eyes wide with distress. “The party ended hours ago.”

“I’m sorry. Grace and I went for drinks at the beach after,” I lie smoothly, dropping my bag on the floor and moving to sit in his lap. His arms encase me protectively and his lips are drawn to mine like magnets. Even after losing our only son, there’s still that connection. Although we don’t have a much sex as much as we used to, we are still positively addicted to one another.

“I love you, baby,” he whispers in that rough, deep voice of his. My fingertips play with his chestnut hair as I look into his light grey eyes. “I missed you, okay?,” he confesses tentatively, biting his lower lip and gazing at me from behind thick, long and lush eyelashes.

The thing with Hal Carter is that he’s every woman’s wet dream. Sculpted chest. Chiselled, well-defined muscles. A smile that breaks all the hearts. And he’s a sweet talker. But he’s incredibly faithful, too. You’re his girl, his woman, his wife and ain’t nobody gonna change that. “I missed my baby.”

Smiling warmly, endeared by the golden heart underneath is tough, bad boy exterior, I tenderly move my lips against his in a soft kiss. “I’m tired, Hal. I’m going to bed, you joining me?”

“Of course, baby,” he obliges quickly, melting like wax to a burning candle underneath your touch.

What you’ve done earlier tonight, sleeping with a summer man, sleeping with Chris, it’s wrong and you know it. But you needed to get it out of your system, all the rage and the self-blame and the tears you’ve been keeping to yourself. You’ve been stitching yourself up for what seems like an eternity. But the featherlight touches on your skin, the imprints Hal leaves on your skin, they’re forever. This thing with Chris isn’t and that’s why the guilt will never eat you alive.

As you guide your husband Hal with you to the upstairs bedroom, he gently squeezes your hand and you look over your shoulder to see him staring back at you lovingly. You’re happy you said no to Chris when he asked you to be his muse. You can’t be someone’s mistress and you certainly can’t be anyone’s muse. You can be his one-night-stand and that’s all there is to it. You consider it to be grief counselling, one night of unadulterated hot summer sex with a hot summer lover. A cleansing of some sorts. In with the new and out with the old.

So when your legs hit the side of the bed and you collapse onto the soft mattress, Hal’s body hovering over yours, you ask him the one thing you couldn’t ask of him until now. “Make love to me, baby. I’ve missed you, too. Make me yours again.”

@beccaanne814-blog @avengerofyourheart @a-little-hell-to-raise @marvelingatthewonder @mrshopkirk @hardcorehippos @knittingknerdy @winterboobaer @italwaysendsinafightt @viollettes @hymnofthevalkyries @feelmyroarrrr @justareader @austinamelio @volklana @4theluvofall @bovaria @themcuhasruinedme @theoneandonlysaucymo @caplanbuckybarnes @hymnofthevalkyries @nenyakj @amrita31199 @emilyevanston @minervaem @howlingbarnes @buchananbarnestrash @austinamelio @youandb @you-and-bucky @fvckingsteverogers @thatawkwardtinyperson @that-sokovian-bastard @abovethesmokestacks @justareader @marvelrevival @marvel-fanfiction @justanotherbuckydevotee @barnes-heaven @heartmade-writingbucky @buckyywiththegoodhair @captnbarnesrogers @mellifluous-melodramas @its-not-a-phase-hux

[newmonk]

UK TRIP

Day 1 // 18th July 2019

- Landed at London Gatwick —> Switched two trains to get to Waterloo —> Walked down Webber Street to figure out exactly where it is - 130, Webber Street: My home for the next two weeks! - Went to the supermarket, got basic supplies, beers & a local SIM - Walk around Union Street, found a chill park - Chose to have dinner at Bala Baya, instead of Gordon Ramsay’s Union Street, because I don’t do mainstream stuff. LOL, kidding. I found Bala Baya’s menu & aesthetic more attractive. - Shopped for more supplies from TESCO at Southwark - Walked back home - Didn’t do much, just trying to get a hang of the city & people

Day 2 // 19th July 2019

- Train from Waterloo —> John Wood's - Starts raining as I walk towards the coveted Lord’s Cricket Ground - Met Dudeja outside Lord’s & started our Lord’s tour - Went to the great hall, merchandise store, the dressing rooms - the place where Ganguly took off & flung his jersey during the Natwest 2002 finals - Bus from Lord’s —> Oxford Circus - Walked around Oxford Street, its a shopping freak show. Since I’m averse to shopping, I didn’t like this street, but the kind of consumerism that exists in London is intense - Went for lunch to The Chipping Forecast: Fish & Chips, Avocado salad & Guinness stout was consumed - Followed by desert at Chin Chin - Met Deep in the evening & we went to Soho Theatre to watch comedy show, which I didn’t know would go on to inspire me to such an extent: DEMI LARDNER - Walked around Piccadilly Circle, China Town, Leicester Square, the popular places of London. Too much fan-fare around these places, very commercial, whereas I prefer the quiet, quaint lanes. Anyway, I couldn’t go to London for the first time & not visit these places, they’re too  iconic too skip! - Walked around the Soho again, had a very good beer while walking - Dinner at Japes Pizzeria with Simon, Dudeja & Deep. Their pizzas were amazing! - Train from Oxford Circus —> Waterloo —> Walked home

Day 3 // 20th July 2019

- Walk from home —> BFI IMAX Waterloo —> Walk down to Tate Modern - MIND EXPLODE at Tate Modern, must’ve spent 5 hours easily, just absorbing - Bus to Nando’s —> Walk to BFI IMAX Waterloo - Watched Lion King at BFI (UK’s largest IMAX screen) - Tried a Ben & Jerry’s ice-cream for the first time. It was nice, normal - Walk back home from BFI - Reached home, then stepped out again - Spotted Andrew Scott outside the Old Vic Theatre! O.M.G. YES - Met Sumit, Sam & Dudeja & The London Eye around midnight, their keys fell into a gutter outside the London Eye & we struggled to get it, Sam & Sumit wrote a note on paper which had their name and contact number & put it through the grill - We went to a supermarket to get magnets since we thought we'll use that to pull out the keys from the gutter, but the shop-owner(from the subcontinent) warned us not to do such stuff, since it would come across as extremely suspicious. - Walked with Dudeja around Union Street - We saw hordes of people line up outside a train bridge, figured there was some underground boxing match happening there. - Walk back home.

Day 4 // 21st July 2019

- Took a train to North Greenwhich, was sent back to Canary Wharf, cozy the observatory is closer from there - SRK’s 'Challa' was shot at Canary Wharf - Heron Qauy-DLR Walk - Got off at Cutty Stark - Walk in Greenwich was amazing, it's a beautiful area - Walked to the observatory, crossing Cafe Rouge, Greenwich theatre & the huge park - Touched and stood on the prime meridian line(EXACT vertical centre of the Earth) & walked around the observatory - Walked down to the National Maritime Museum and saw some cool naval stuff (I didn't know that museums would fascinate me so much!) - Walk through Cutty Stark, bought a couple of vinyl LPs for myself although I don't have a player -_- It's a long term plan, sometimes you get accessories for something that you don't have & that motivates you to get the actual product, right? *I hope it's not just me* - Walked the Thames underground tunnel, it was quite cold down there - Walked across multiple parks to reach Isle of Dogs, (the name of this area inspired Wes Anderson to create a fictional film) which was quite disappointing, since I was expecting some film references, alas, One shouldn't expect too much. I didn't even find a direction symbol or a milestone that read 'Isle of Dogs' - Train back to Canary Wharf --> Switch at Green Park --> Piccadilly Line --> Hyde Park Corner - Met Dudeja, Deep & Simon at Hyde Park - We had a couple of beers, spoke, played catch & frisbee'd - Took a bus to Original Lahore, we were joined by Upmanyu there for dinner - Mediocre food at Original Lahore - Upmanyu walked us around the area, it was the same area where he stayed during his previous visit - Walked to Baker Street & saw Sherlock Holmes house. 221B - Took the bus home.

Day 5 // 22nd July 2019

- Started the day late. Did laundry, dishes, following up with clients regarding work back in Bombay. I was glad I didn’t carry my laptop along!  - Walk to Southwark - Train to Victoria Station - Oxford Tube bus from Victoria Coach - Chill bus ride, reached the majestic city of Oxford - Walked around Oxford University, Christ Church College, by the river that flows through the city - I think I ate the best burger that I've ever eaten at Oxford. It was a smoked beef burger at this restaurant 'Head to the River' - The bartender mocked me coz I said 'I want beer beer'. These two guys made a quick gag, and went on to ask me if I wanted any 'Food Food' 'Water Water' & later apologised for their behaviour by saying they're 'Sorry Sorry' and 'Immature Immature'. I liked the dry humor, that’s my thing too. - Long walk by the river - Slept under a tree at the park, saw ducks, kayaks - Walked around the city for about 2-3 hours - Gelato Ice cream at George & Co - Saw a man in a hat & suit entertaining a group of kids - The architecture here was different from London. - Went to Sainsbury, found lactose free milk - Caught the bus back home --> Oxford Tube --> Victoria Coach London --> Bus no #211 from Victoria to Waterloo - Walk home - Made a cheese sandwich & drank that lactose free milk - Spoke to Varun for long & slept.

Day 6 // 23rd July 2019

- Walk to Southwark --> Train to King's Cross --> Walk across the street to St. Pancras - Train to Brighton with Dudeja - Walk to Brighton Beach through the lanes of the city - Chill at the Brighton Pier - Ate fish & Chips + Calamari on the pier. - Walk down the pebble beach - We’d planned for this, so I was carrying a sheet, we spread it and soaked in the sun for a couple of hours - Took a couple of dips in the water(English Channel) - Beer + Truffle Chips at the beach - Sid played an FKJ playlist & we slept on the beach - Walked ahead to the Naturist Beach Park, saw a beautiful lady there! - Shot 'Otherside' pilot with Dudeja - Started walking to get water & stumbled upon a bunch of boys playing cricket; they were from Afghanistan. We were elated and ended up playing cricket with them for over an hour, made friends with them. One of those boys aped Bumrah’s action to the T, he was a fan! - Walked back on the Brighton promenade, saw the axe throwing booth - Back at Brighton station, we took the train to London - Got off at Southwark & walked home

Day 7 // 24th July 2019

- Walk to Borough Market - Ate pork wrap from Hobbs & gobbled an entire box of strawberries - Walk to London Bridge, walked the tower bridge - Bus to Potter Fields garden/park - Walk at Hay's Galleria (I think the architechture of Hiranandani in Powai is heavily inspired by this place) - London Bridge Underground station --> Train to Camden - Walked around the entirety of Camden - Found 'The World's End' pub and had their house beer 'The World's End Ale', one word: OUTSTANDING! The bartender & I spoke about Edgar Wright and his amazing films! - Bus to Shoreditch - Walked across the Grafiiti streets and reached a fine dine Burmese restaurant: Lahpet (with Dudeja - his reccomendation!) - Pork gravy + Rice with Prawn dim sums on the side - Walking beer from Shoreditch, walked around Shoreditch while sipping on the beer - Went to another restaurant 'Bird' and got Fried chicken parcelled - Bus to Tower Bridge - Walked tower bridge at night - Sat by the Thames and finished that fried chicken with blue cheese sauce! Blue Cheese FTW! - Walked back home through Borough Market.

Day 8 // 25th July 2019

-  Saw a priesthood ceremony in a church - Walked to the Imperial War Museum, intensely intrigued by the history behind World War II & The Holocaust. What a museum, must visit! - Walk back home - Lunch at Borough Market (Pork Hot Dog) + Gelato (Pistachio) - Train to West Hampstead - Met Sumit Anand, Sam & Dudeja, we booked our tickets to Cardiff (Wales). I also booked my tickets to Edinburgh (Scotland) - Train back home - Chilled on the terrace, had a couple of drinks - Walked to Tower Bridge & by the Thames with Maitry - Chilling again on the terrace, even Dudeja joined, spoke about Indian politics, because... how could we not!

Day 9 // 26th July 2019

- Leave for London Victoria with Dudeja in the morning - Missed the bus by 2 minutes, had to book the next bus which was after an hour :( - Walked to Victoria Street for breakfast - Beautiful breakfast at Granger & Co. Oh my god, the scrambled egg there is heavenly - Got on to our bus, headed to Cardiff - Checked in to our hostel the Riverside, one of the better ones, recommend it! - We headed out, but the city seemed a bit slow that day - Pizza & Beer at The Gatekeeper - Walked around the city, deserted, empty vibe, we thought we chose wrongly - Went to the Roald Dahl park - Took a bus back to the hotel, played mini pool in the courtyard & then slept like logs

Day 10 // 27th July 2019 - Breakfast at the hostel, our locker with passports got locked, so we had to break the lock to get our stuff out! With the hostel’s permission of course, they only got us a bolt cutter - Checkout & walk to Bute Park - Experienced one of the fun-nest event ever, that too randomly, we stumbled upon it! The Homeless Football World Cup & loved the vibe of it! Saw the opening ceremony + 1st match Denmark beat Wales (Penalty Tie Breaker) The Homeless World Cup is a sporting event organised by Homeless World Cup Foundation, a social organization which advocates the end of homelessness through the sport of association football - Walk out to the castle short walk, went to Joke store, comic store, etc. - Walk through various arcades - Loved walking in the arcades - Cardiff Market - Local market walk. Had Cannabis lollipop, slightly buzzed - Walk in arcades, quick lunch at Gregs. - Very cool stores, vintage video game parlor, skateboarding shops, fun toy shops, our perception of Cardiff as compared to the previous day had completely changed, it was such a fun place! - Dinner + Red Beer at Corner House - Walk to Sophia Garden, board the bus to London Victoria

Day 11 // 28th July 2019 - Reached home late at night, ate basic stuff - Morning, wasn't feeling too well (bunch of things mentally + homesick). - Chilled at home, cleaned everything, kitchen, laundry, etc. - Went to the park near Webber St. for a walk - Ate a fruit, video called Akshita, she looked cute, was watching Kapoor & Sons - I went back home, packed my stuff for Scotland, spoke to Akshita again, we had an emotional moment. - I took the bus to Victoria & left for Edinburgh, that was a tough ride, I was very uncomfortable through the journey, won't forget that night for sometime man! Phewww!

Day 12 // 29th July 2019

- Reached Edinburgh early in the morning. Walked down to the hostel. - Crashed in the hostel's (Baxter's Hostel) cafeteria since my check-in was 6 hours later. The people running that place were v sweet! 10/10 would recommend. - Got to my bed at 2 PM. Slept immediately. - Woke up at 5 PM, met Nimesh (Indian connect ftw, he was from Canada), he was gracious enough to lend me his hop on/hop off bus ticket, that was valid for the next day as well - Walked around Waverley Mall, ate a quick Chinese meal. Booked my ghost tour for 9 PM the same night, but reached the incorrect meeting point - Walked around the city & went back to the hostel by 10:30 PM, not a lonely walk, since the fringe setup/arrangements were on, Edinburgh was buzzing!

Day 13 // 30th July 2019 - Woke up late, fresh finally! Quick shower & out.  - Bright sunny day (Thank god for that!). - Grabbed a subway & took the hop on - hop off bus - Reached the entry point to Arthur's seat. Trekked Arthur's seat. Beautiful. Spent an hour there, ate fruits while I chilled with myself. - Went to the Scottish Parliament - Took rounds of the city on the bus, got to know about the significance of Edinburgh in J.K.Rowling's life & the world of Harry freaking Potter. (Trivia: Rowling incepted Harry Potter in Edinburgh. She wrote The Sorcerer's Stone at a cafe 'The Elephant House' & the Deathly Hallows in suite 501 @ The Balmoral (Bang opposite Baxter Hostel)) - Walked the lovely Victoria Street, ate a heavy meal @ Nando's - Finally went for my Murder & Mystery walk at Victoria Street, too much fun! - Walk to the hostel, slept.

Day 14 // 31st July 2019 - Woke up late, breakfast @ McDonald's - Bus to Glasgow [ Wanted to visit another part of Scotland, since I hadn’t pre-booked my Highland’s tour :( ] - Wrote a couple of Thumb-stopper scripts on the way, kept me engaged & distracted - Reached Glasgow, walked around - Went to a Gurudwara, needed to visit an Indian place of worship, felt extreme comfort - Visited the Botanic Garden - Walked across the city, found the film+book+music store - Went to the riverside : Clyde River - Continued walking around the riverside, long walk, its a lonely city, it started drizzling, no one around - Didn't find anything interesting in Glasgow, quite low. Maybe I didn't go there on a good day, went back to Bus Station, phone got spoilt in the rain. Got a bus back to Edinburgh & bunked at the hostel

Day 15 // 1st August 2019 - Woke up early, had to meet Aditi & film The Otherside episode with her! There was a kick in my walk finally, after the last couple of days of gloom and Aditi's energy was so positive & happy, it just pulled me out of where my mind was looming.  - Met & shot the episode with her at Assembly @ George Square, we ate some lovely crepes later. - Walked around Edinburgh, visited The Scottish Art Gallery, saw my favorite painter: Rembrandt’s original, authentic work!!! Saw his mentor Pieter Lastman’s work as well. Oh man! (I know I left Edinburgh the same day when the Fringe was beginning, it was mistimed... my trip there, didn’t plan it that way, so please don’t remind me that :( & anyway I had fun there) - Bus to airport ---> Flight to London Stansted ---> Train to Tottenham ---> Underground switch  - Reached Southwark, picked up basic groceries from the supermarket - Home: Started packing, cleaning up, laundry stuff

Day 16 // 2nd August 2019

- It was a sunny day, had to do final packing, shopping & visit the places that were on the check list, all in the limited number of hours & considering that I wake up late, anyway, I think I managed to do a great job!  - Kept all my bags ready & headed out after cooking myself a quick meal at home - Went straight up to Green Park, chilled for a while - Walked around Buckingham Palace - Went to Harrod’s, that’s a mind-boggling shopping space. Crazy! - Had to visit the iconic Abbey Road and click a picture of that street. There’s too much artistic history in London! What to do. - And I cannot thank Kunal Rao enough for recommending Hampstead Heath, it is the BEST park ever. What diverse experience. Yoga, silent open air disco, writers sitting in isolation & writing, young couples chilling, boys playing football, people having wine, some men fishing, while some swam, it was all happening there. Perfect example of Mutual Co-existence. Spent a couple of hours there, ate fruit, absorbed the air, my trip was coming to an end, what a bummer :( - Ran to Oxford Street, had to do all the shopping, then & there. - I shopped from LUSH, Sports Direct, Primark, Adidas, Marks & Spencer. You’d want to spend all your money on that street, it’s peak capitalism, but too attractive to not spend. Such dilemma for an existential person yaar. (Notice the change in me from day 2 to day 16?) - Reached home late in the night, bid adieu to this beautiful house in the heart of London, very grateful! - Picked luggage & left for Harsha Di’s place, saw a film shoot happening on the street when I left, now the person I am, I found that symbolic like: chalo beta it’s time to go back to films (Bombay), haha! - Got on a train to Wembley, met Harsha Di & jiju, went to their place, she’d made fresh indian food! Tasted a roti after 17 days, oh man, that is unmatchable, the hype is true! - Chilled with the two of them & crashed, had an early morning flight.

Day 17 // 3rd August 2019

- Woke up early, Harsha di & Alok jiju drove me to the Heathrow & the trip came to an end! What an experience man. Wow! I was amazed.

SPECIAL THANKS TO HRISHIT, SIDDHARTH & HARSHITA DI FOR THE MAKING SURE I HAD THE BEST TIME! AND TO KUNAL, ASHISH, VASANI & AKHIL FOR THE RECOMMENDATIONS AND AS ALWAYS, MOM (FOR EVERYTHING)

I also realised that I quite enjoy my own company & thoughts, so was able to spend almost 20 days by myself, of course I met friends, comics & stuff, but for the most time, I was alone & I think I did well. Took care of everything, from food, travel, laundry, mopping, grocery shopping, managing expenses while on a budget trip along with having an absolutely kickass time and enormous learnings.

Special Mention & MUST HAVE: ‘Citymapper’ App (It sorted my life from day 1. No other App is required if you have this App)

OVERALL TRIP AFTERTHOUGHT:  I absolutely loved my time in U.K. It’s the culture, the architecture, the people who make the place, all of which were very good & the best part is that they have preserved and maintained their history, they hold it so dearly (even though most of the wealth is a result of imperialism & looted from other nations, they have cultivated a culture & market out of it) and that’s something that I think we lack as a nation. I recently read an article that said RK Studios in Chembur has been demolished since they were running losses and the land has been sold to a big real estate company for apartments to be made. All the memorabilia, the emotions, the films which were shot in that iconic studio gone! All at once. Somehow I feel, that in another country perhaps, it would have been valued more, art would be given much more respect.

[coleymari-blog]

Life Changing

Second Submission for @nalu-week 2017 Bonus Round: Gothic 

London, 1773

Miss Lucy Heartfilia, daughter of a wealthy businessman, hurried down a back alley as the sounds of night-veiled London echoed off in the distance. Carriages coming and going, drunks laughing outside of the pubs, all reminders of how much trouble was awaiting her at home.

Around Midday she had been allowed to walk unaccompanied to the bookshoppe on the corner, about a mile from her family’s estate. Normally she never traveled anywhere without her Valet, Virgo, but due to her busy schedule, Lucy was permitted to go alone. She had finished the three books she bought over the past week and desperately needed more of she was to sit through another weekend of meeting potential suitors.

Coming around the corner, the blonde debutante found herself staring down a solid brick wall. Perhaps she should have paid more attention when Virgo had attempted to teach her the path home. Where had she gone wrong? She had left the shoppe, cut behind it and made her way passed the Bakery and the Florist. Had she gone down the wrong street when she found the Abbey? It was well into the early evening and she had no business being out on her own, which made her fear the other possible repercussions; the ones that were far worse than a scolding from her absent father.

The sound of a glass bottle skittering across the pavement quickly grabbed Lucy’s undivided attention. Her heart began to race in her chest, the corseted bodice of her gown only further hindering her breathing. She was as good as trapped, like prey backed into a corner.

“W-who’s there?!” she demanded, summoning as much of her opulent upbringing to make her voice less shaky. Her confidence was only met with multiple snickers.

“Pretty girls shouldn’t be out this late without a proper escort, Missy,” one of the drunks slurred, another slightly shorter body appearing behind him. The odds of Lucy being able to defend herself against one attacker were low, but two? Her stomach began to churn over the possibilities. Unluckily for her, the other half of the gruesome twosome was caging her in from the other side, effectively trapping her between two assailants and the wall.

“We should take her home, Kurohebi,” said the shorter man, a menacing grimace creeping to his lips.  His compatriot laughed as he reached out, twirling strands of Lucy’s golden hair around his lithe finger.

“Your right, Nullpudding,” the raven-haired man sneered, “Too bad we don’t know where she lives. Guess we’ll just have to take her back to our house.”

As they both went to grab Lucy’s arms, she belted out a deafening scream and her attack was over before it even began. Everything happened before her eyes, but it all happened so quickly that she was unsure of what was really going on. In what felt like an instant, both attackers were pushed away from her, a flash of pink the first thing to catch Lucy’s eye. Kurohebi and Nullpudding stumbled backward, only to find a mysterious figure standing between them and their prey.

“You really shouldn’t harass beautiful young women,” said the man, grinning victoriously. His eyes were oynx, hair as vivid as salmon and clothes fit for the upper echelon of society. What really caught Lucy’s attention were his pointed fangs...

The two men tried to get retribution on the random stranger that had intervened but they were quickly dealt with, both of them soon taking off down the alley as fast as their legs could carry them. Everything inside Lucy told her that she should be doing the same, but there was the tiniest voice in the back of her mind that kept her planted right where she stood. Surprisingly she wasn’t afraid of the Good Samaritan or his demonic smile.

“Are you alright, Miss?” he asked, his voice filled with concern. Lucy blushed quietly with such attention, hoping the darkness of the alleyway would keep her secret.

“I’m fine,” she answered softly, “Thanks to you.” Holding out her hand, palm down, she smiled warmly. “It’s only fair that you tell me your name so I can thank you properly Mr...?” she left her words hanging in the London mist as she waited for him to answer.

With a smile equally as bright, the man bowed slightly, taking her by the hand, and gently pressing his lips against her soft skin. “Natsu Dragneel, at your service,” he teased, picking himself back up again and gazing at her with something Lucy couldn’t place. Before she could figure it out, Natsu was guiding her back to the street. With a grin and a politely extended arm,  he sidled up to Lucy. “Would you allow me the pleasure of walking you home?

A month soon passed. Lucy had endured multiple potential suitors at her father’s command. Eventually he’d given up in her ability to choose one for herself and had settled on a wealthy man from the neighboring province. It was her last night in her family’s estate and she was crying among her packed belongings.

What made matters worse was the fact that Natsu had failed to meet her. After he walked her home, he’d made a habit of escorting her every time she was allowed out. Honestly she had come to enjoy his company in more than a friendly companion manner, but what was she to do? She was promised to another man and Natsu was...immortal.

She vividly remembered the night he’d explained everything to her. They had sat in her family’s garden for hours after walking home from Church as he told her about his life, and his life before ‘the change’. He had been a sailor, traveling the world and going on all sorts of adventures. The hardest part to believe was that it was almost three hundred years prior to their current day. One day, in a port town known for the occult, he’d been bitten by another vampyre named Igneel, and Natsu considered it to be his greatest adventure yet. After Igneel was killed, however, Natsu went about the rest of his days alone. Until he met Lucy, that is.

While she used her lace handkerchief to brush away her tears, the blonde heard a light tapping on her window. Confusion and curiosity led her to the sill, only for ‘shock’ to take their place.

“Natsu!” Lucy chastised, wrapping her night robe tighter around her shivering form. “How did you get up onto the terrace? And do you know what time it is?!”

All Natsu did was chuckle, casually walking toward Lucy before guiding them both back into the comfort of her bedroom suite. “I promised I would be here, didn’t I?” came the same cocky tone that Lucy had grown to love. He looked around the room, taking in the sight of her entire life packed away into train cases.

“Are you really leaving?” he asked, his voice softer than normal. It concerned Lucy more than she cared to admit, causing her to close the space between them and sit on one of the cases closest to here he was standing.

“Unfortunately,” she replied, woe and sadness oozing from just one word. “I’ve been given to Dan Straight, of the Liverpool Straights.” She huffed. “Apparently my prison sentence, I mean, marriage, will stand to make my father quite a bit of money. Plus he offered a substantial dowry so...” she trailed off, feeling the heartbreak silence her.

Natsu’s immediate presence quieted her for another reason. His eyes were fixed on her, filled with something that resembled ‘fear’. She was about to speak again before he cut her off.

“You don’t have to go, Luce,” he murmured, “Stay with me. We’ll go somewhere else. Maybe we can find a boat to the New America’s? Your father would never find us there.”

Lucy’s jaw fell open in a very unladylike fashion. Run away with Natsu? Leave behind everything she had ever known the night before she was supposed to be shipped off to her waiting husband? The longer she thought it over, the more obvious the answer became,  under one condition.

“Turn me and I will,” Lucy said confidently. If she was running off into the sunset with Prince Charming, she was going to make sure the fairytale lasted forever. “Make me like you and I’ll leave with you tonight.”

If it was possible, Natsu looked paler than he usually did. “Y-y-you want to be like m-me?” he stammered, wringing his hands slightly. He brushed her hair back lovingly, exposing the side of her neck. They sat together in perfect silence for what seemed like an eternity before Natsu wordlessly agreed. Nodding before gently pressing his lips against hers, he whispered softly against them. “Had to do that before I took your life”

New York City, 1830

Fifty-seven years went by like no time at all. The eternal twenty-year-olds had settled in their new life in the United States. Lucy’s father was long gone, no one chasing after them for at least two decades. Their ‘diet’ consisted of animals mostly, indulging in a heinous criminal or two occasionally. The best part of Lucy Dragneel’s new life? She had her best friend and lover by her side until the end of days, and there was no doubt that ‘being alive’ was simply a state of mind.

[mubal4]

Our Summer Journey – Phase 3 Complete

 I will start this off by saying, Wow!!  Quebec City, Canada is awesome & fortunately we’ve took a lot of pictures to share 😊.  This was our latest chapter in the summer adventure we’ve been grateful to take part in. This one was just Robin and I; the girls were in AZ.  Well, Isabella was, and Alaina joined her mid-week after her own summer adventure back east with friends.  Big thanks to my mom from coming out from FL to stay with the girls; and thanks to my dad too who has been living the bachelor life since 😊.  All the chance we get to create with these trips is special.  This one was unique because it was a “work trip.” It was an award trip that we were fortunate to earn through work and there were about 200 + other colleagues that were in attendance.  I knew a couple but for the most part, I would be interacting with many new faces.  We also didn’t know what to expect because we’ve never been to Quebec.  Hell, we would have never even thought to go there.  When we first found out about it, Robin and I looked at each other; basically, we had that thought, “Quebec City, where in Canada is that?”  We’ve been fortunate enough to earn this trip in the past, but it typically fell right in the middle of the girl’s gymnastics season. This year, it was in July and, since we would have never thought about going to Quebec City and we had the availability, we decided to take advantage.  We are so glad we did because we will definitely go back.

 We didn’t have much expectations, or better said, we didn’t know what to expect with the city, the people, and a new country.  First off, there is so much history and Robin and I dig on stuff like that.  It was first founded by the French and then Britain took over, America tried to invade, then the French took it over again.  It is all French Canadian now and, on our tours, we were told that 95% of those that live there speak French. We did find a local watering hole when we first got into town on Monday; we walked around the streets after checking into our hotel (you can see pictures of the hotel and the streets – so cool).  At the bar we got talking to the bartender and I was curious about the visitors.  Let’s back track a bit, there is old Quebec and then Quebec City.  Old Quebec, and I may get this wrong, is the largest walled city in North America.  Everything within the wall is old Quebec, and outside, well you get the picture.  Britain build the wall around the city, and the Citadel, which sits on top of the city, to protect from invaders, American’s originally back in the 1800’s.  So, back to the bartender, old Quebec is where all the tourists flock, for the most part.  He told us that 25% of the tourists are from America, 25% Europe, 25% from Canada, and the remaining from Asia.  There was a good contingent of my company that were from the Philly area, that is where we are based, but I did notice a lot of Phillies hats and shirt walking around town and we found a store that had Eagles stuff & a Carson Wentz Jersey. 😊

 The week we were there was a good mix of company activities with a good amount of down time for us to wander around the city and take in the sites.  Robin and I did that, walking around Old Quebec, going up the hill to the Citadel, and just people watching.  The weather was fantastic, in the mid-seventies and sunny each day so, coming from AZ where it is in the 100’s, we were able to find outdoor café’s to just sit at, have a beer, and watch the world go by, and it was pretty wild to see all the different cultures of people walking around.  I heard someone say that Quebec City is the most European city in North America and it certainly felt that way.  They do have many local beers which we found many we liked, and the food was excellent.  There wasn’t a meal we had that was awesome.  We also took some time to get a massage, again, it was amazing, and I got out on some runs for a couple of days and stumbled onto a trail.  First time I got the opportunity to trail run in a different country and it definitely didn’t disappoint. 😊 As for the company events, they didn’t either.  We had a cocktail reception/dinner on Monday night outside our hotel, on the terrace overlooking the Saint Lawrence River.  Amazing views and one thing that is big there is street performers. They are everywhere and they are great. I didn’t get any pictures of them, but you may be able to see them in some of the backgrounds.  At the reception we got to connect with a couple of the colleagues I knew, spent some time catching up with them but, after traveling through the night (took a redeye there) we were spent so we went to bed early. Tuesday I was able to get a good run in before we went on our first company excursion to Montmorency Falls. You can see some of the pictures and none of the ones I am sharing do any of this stuff justice; highly encourage a trip if you can.  Anyway, we basically got the morning to tour the falls, ride on the gondola, explore the entire area, with awesome views and do it at your leisure.  We did have a lunch provided at the end of the morning. I mention this because we had the opportunity to sit with a couple from Greenville, SC – Melissa & Scott.  We sat with them over lunch and got to know them, not thinking about how close we would come over the next few days 😊. These guys were great and just a pleasure to be around.  Actually, most that we meant we just had a great connection with; but Scott and Melissa and Tamara & Scott from Charlotte, NC were amazing too.  We will get to them on the next adventure 😊.  After touring the falls, we had the afternoon to ourselves before our Riverboat cruise around the Saint Lawrence that night. We took the time to again, walk around the city, grab a drink at an outdoor café, get some work done, read, and, actually take a bit of a nap.  The dinner cruise was a cool experience.  The boat had 3 floors and again, food was awesome, and the atmosphere was wild.  They had more performance doing acrobatics throughout the night, which was amazing, and the lowest level had these huge, floor to ceiling floors that made you feel like you were right on the water.  Here, we again connected with Melissa and Scott and just had an awesome time with them all night and ended it up back at the hotel bar connecting with others before turning in.  

 Now, Wednesday scheduled event was nothing like anyone that went on it expected.  We had a few options to choose from, a bike ride through town, golf, cooking class, and some other things.  Robin and I (or maybe it was just me and she agreed 😊), decided to do the Canyon Saint-Anne Adventure.  Canyon Saint-Anne is crazy amazing, you will see in the pictures.  It sits at the base of this ski resort and just has walls, waterfalls, and well canyon’s all over the place, set in the woods with a river running through it.  Really breathtaking.  The adventure was described in the information they sent, or at least we got the sense that it was like a ropes course with ziplining.  Well, it was “like that” but there was a zip line, however, the ropes course was scaling rock cliffs, walking on wire across the canyon, and really pushing ourselves past our comfort zone when it comes to heights.  There was about 35 of us total and we were split into 3 different groups, because they had 3 different courses that we all did so they started us each at one of them.  I loved our group and there were a few that, well, were scared shitless with starting off with the zipline.  Apparently, this was the easiest place to start; and it was to a degree.  To get to the zipline platform, that dangled about 60 feet off the ground, we had to scale down this rock cliff, keep in mind we are all harnessed in and locked onto wires, but, still high up and still a bit nutty 😊.  Once you were cruising to the other side it was easy.  The rest of the courses though, really challenged our bodies and minds because we were putting work in.  You can see from some of the pictures; hopefully they give it some justice. I was so proud of Robin for going through the entire course, didn’t take the short cuts, and powered through a lot of her fears this day.  It was awesome to see her do this.  Amazing in my opinion.  It was awesome.  I was also proud of our group too because there were many that you can see were way past their limit of comfort.  Tamara, of Tamara and Jon above, I was told almost didn’t do the zipline from the start; but, at the end of the day, she finished the course with us, and we were all so very proud of her.  It was a cool experience and we all felt much closer after going through it all together. We talked about it with some folks that were in other groups and we all felt the same and all had a very similar connection.  What a wild experience.  The rest of Wednesday and through Thursday night, we were on our own to do whatever it was we wanted.  When Robin and I got back we hit up this little Italian restaurant for some amazing food, walked around some more and then just relaxed a bit in the room before going back out for dinner and an early night again.  Thursday AM I got up for another run, this is when I found the trail 😊, we had our massages and walked up to the Citadel to see the changing of the guards (very cool) and walked along the boardwalk, high about the river.  We had a light day walking around and having down time.  We then visited the same outdoor café we hit up on Monday and that same bartender welcome us with a high-five and even busted my chops about Penn State (had a PA shirt on and we talked about it last time 😊).  I had heard often that the folks in Quebec don’t really connect with Americans, but I will tell you, everyone we had the pleasure of meeting were fantastic and this guy, Alex, was great.  

 Thursday night, our last night, was the awards banquet at this huge, beautiful armory with a great dinner, awesome entertainment, and incredible people.  We again got to connect with some new folks, meet some new friends and, when dinner started, we again hooked up with Melissa and Scott and had a hilarious time all night long.  Robin and I had to leave the hotel Friday morning at 430am so we were not planning for a long night, however, since it was our last, we took advantage of it; so thanks to Melissa and Scott for entertaining us to late at night and we are very excited for all the trips we talked about getting together on in the future 😊.  Overall it was a tremendous, enlightening, and fulfilling experience.  Quebec City is a fantastic area and highly encourage you to check it out.  I believe we got to experience so much, and we are very grateful for the opportunity.  I will end it with this, yes, the city was great, the food was amazing, the town was cool, and the experiences were awesome.  That said, like anything, we could have physically been anywhere, what made this a fulfilling experience, at least for me, was that I got to be with Robin, here and I connecting and catching up on life AND, we got to meet so many wonderful new people and hopefully, hopefully created some long-lasting friendships. That is what makes the trip for me, the people we were able to connect with; so, thanks to you all and hope to talk with you very soon.

 Now, on to the final installment of our summer adventure; stay tuned 😊!!

[domhovasse]

We'll wish we could come back to these days.

Laos was incredible. I had heard amazing things going into it, and it absolutely did not disappoint. We caught an overnight bus from Chiang Mai to Nong Khai, a city right on the border of Thailand and Laos, got our visas on arrival, and took a bus across the border to Vientianne. Once there, we bartered with a tuktuk driver (we were becoming professional at bartering), who took us to the bus station. Our timing was impeccable - we got the last 2 seats on the bus, and it took off about 10 minutes after we boarded. We arrived in the beautiful town of Vang Vieng around dinner time, checked-in to our hostel and then went for a little walk. We ended up at Smile Bar, a tranquil, outdoor bar, where we spent the next few hours sitting in hammocks along the river, watching the sun set behind the mountains, with a beer and a baguette sandwich in hand. It was the nicest little “welcome to Laos.” That night we walked around town a little, and stopped at a bar for a little game of beer pong.

The entire following day was spent on a scooter, exploring the countryside, going into caves, and jumping into lagoons. It was so magical, and felt amazing to be surrounded by beautiful mountains again. That evening, we walked around town some more before getting dinner, and then returning to the same bar as the previous night. We ended up sitting at down at a table and making friends with this couple from Paris, who were super sweet! The next day, we partook in a tubing/river bar crawl. Vang Vieng is pretty well known for it, although the government had to crack down a couple years ago because the yearly death toll among travellers was at an all time high. We essentially spent the entire day floating along the river and stopping at a couple bars along the way. The rest of the evening was spent eating, socializing, and trying to recover from our long & very crazy day. Alyssa’s phone took a little swim during our tubing adventure, so she was mourning its death and we were hoping it would make a full recovery after a few days spent in a bag of rice.  (Fun fact: a dry bag does not serve it’s purpose if it isn’t sealed shut.) Both of us had already purchased tickets to the famous “Jungle Party”, which neither of us were too keen on anymore. We went anyways, just to check it out, but left not too long after, as we were exhausted from our crazy day, and not big fans of the deep house music being played.

The following morning, we checked out of our hostel, hopped on a minivan bus, and began the long journey to Luang Prabang. Laos doesn’t have proper highways so a 200km drive took almost 7 hours. We finally arrived in the evening, checked-in to our hostel, and went to get some drinks at Utopia, a nice bar along the Mekong River, and walked around town for a bit before sitting down at a restaurant to eat dinner. Before heading to sleep, we took a walk across town to a bar, where we ran into 2 australian guys from our hostel room. Our second day, we slept in, and then spent the majority of the day walking around, eating and exploring. In the evening, we walked up to a temple and lookout spot as the sun was setting over the valley. It was so so pretty and honestly made me fall in love with Laos.

The following day, we woke up quite early, ate breakfast at our hostel, and went on a half day excursion to the Kuang Si waterfalls, which was easily one of the prettiest things I’ve ever experienced. Thanks to our tolerance to cold BC water, we were brave enough to jump in and spend some time swimming in the falls. There was also a bear rescue sanctuary, so we spent some time watching them. We got back to the city in the early afternoon, got some sandwiches for lunch, and Alyssa decided to hang out at the hostel, while despite the scorching heat, I went to check out Wat Xieng Thong, since I hadn’t visited a Laotian temple yet. That evening, we took it easy again, wandering around the market area to grab some food and souvenirs. On our last morning, I woke up early to catch the Alms Giving Ceremony (a sacred Lao tradition) before sunrise, and then we got a tuktuk to the airport, where we caught our short flight to Vietnam.

Next up was Vietnam. We had pretty high hopes for Vietnam, and I can fully understand the hype now. The only regret I have is not planning our days/transportation better, because we had to skip a few places that were highly recommended by several friends. Oh well - you can’t do it all, and I definitely plan on going back hopefully one day soon! We decided to begin in the north and make our way to the south, stopping at all the major stops along the way, starting with Hanoi. This was a super cool, bustling city, with an old city center where I could walk around for days on end. The shops in the center were all grouped together by category for example there was a bamboo street, a lantern street, a stationary street, etc. and there are so many great museums to visit. The French influence in this city was pretty visible, even in the way locals sat outside of cafes/restaurants, creating a sort of ‘terrace’ - which obviously made me love it even more. The coffee scene was HUGE here, which Alyssa and I fully embraced, although their traditional coffee is served with condensed milk, which Alyssa found way too sweet. Our first day, after arriving, Alyssa went out to buy a new phone while I stayed back to catchup on some TV shows and social media. We met up for lunch and the went to Maison Centrale (Hoa Lo Prison), an old prison used by the French colonists in French Indochina for political prisoners, and later by North Vietnam for U.S. prisoners of war during the Vietnam War. In the evening, we got dinner on this street with tons of bars and restaurants, and then participated in our hostel’s pubcrawl. On our way home that night, we got introduced to the most life-changing Banh Mi sandwiches ever. My life actually has not been the same since.

The following day we went on a waking tour, which brought us to all the major sights, giving us an overview of the city and highlighting some important history, including the turbulent relationship that Vietnam has had with both the French and the Chinese over the years. Considering my heritage, I had a nice little awkward laugh at this information. We then visited the Women’s museum, which taught us about everything from customs/rituals, to the role of women during the war, to their role in modern day society. It was so well curated and ended up being one of the highlights of our trip. In the evening, we decided to check out a water puppet show, which originated in Hanoi, then got some delicious bun cha for dinner, before participating in our hostel’s pub crawl (again). The following morning was quite slow, first switching hostels, and then we spent the entire day on foot, between Alyssa wanting to do a bit of shopping, and me stopping at every single bank, trying to withdraw money. In the afternoon we stopped to take some pictures at ‘Train Street’, a very narrow, residential street with a train track running through it. We were there for a while, but unfortunately weren’t lucky enough to see a train pass by. Eventually, we made our way back to the old city center and got dinner at a hole in the wall restaurant filled with locals and non-English menus, before getting to bed early. 

We spent the next 2 nights and 3 days on a Ha Long Bay cruise, taking in the beautiful scenery by boat and kayak, with a night spent on Cat Ba island. It’s a bit of a touchy subject, because essentially we got scammed, but in the end, we made some awesome friends and made a good time of it. (And we ended up getting a partial refund, after much arguing.) After arriving back in Hanoi, we grabbed our luggage, got dinner with some cruise friends, and then caught our overnight bus North to SaPa, to spend 2 days trekking through villages and rice fields with a local, & staying the night in her family’s home. We hiked a total of 20km over 2 days, with our personal Hmong tour guide, learning about her life and the lives of the Hmong people. This was definitely an experience I’ll never forget, and one that taught me a lot! We spent an extra evening and night in SaPa, which was spent visiting the market, wandering the streets, and freezing our asses off. (It was -2 degrees!) In hindsight, we should’ve taken an overnight bus back to Hanoi instead of wasting a day in transit, because our bus back to Hanoi the following morning ended up being quite delayed, and then we got scammed by a taxi driver who had a rigged meter. It was another one of our low points on the trip, and put us both in a terrible mood, but in retrospect, it wasn’t that much money.

Next was Hoi An, where we spent most of our days walking the cute, lantern-filled streets, taking pictures, browsing the markets, and getting clothes custom made. We also got manicures one day and spent the afternoon at the beach. It honestly was one of, if not THE cutest city I’ve ever been to! It’s not very big, but I could’ve spent days on end walking around. The city’s even prettier at night, and one evening, we went on a nice little romantic boat ride along the river; it was soooo cute! There were also some of our cruise friends in Hanoi at the same time as us so we all went out to a bar together one night. On our last day, Alyssa and I split off and went on separate excursions: Alyssa a cooking class, and I, a tour of the famous My Son ruins. We met back up at our hostel in the evening, and spent the rest of our last night getting dinner, and socializing at our hostel before getting to bed early.

We woke up bright and early the next morning to catch our flight to Ho Chi Minh, which was both an eye-opening and very educational stop on our trip. We spent most of our time in museums, and walking around, learning about the history, and eating A LOT. I can’t imagine what it would’ve been like to live in Saigon in the 70s when GongGong (my maternal grandpa) was living there. After checking into our hostel in Ho Chi Minh, I wandered around a little, and went to the market to get some lunch, while Alyssa got some extra sleep since she was feeling sick again. We met up at the Independent Palace, which was the home and workplace of the President of South Vietnam during the Vietnam War, and then spent some time at the War Memorial Museum, which was quite a heavy, sobering experience, especially the exhibition on Agent Orange. We spent the rest of the evening walking around, down the rich shopping/hotel street, then to the river, and eventually returning home to get dinner close to our hostel.

The following day was super chill. After breakfast, we headed across town to Chinatown and the Binh Tay market, which was actually under renovation and therefore  relocated into big storage containers. We wanted to get lunch there, but we saw a huge rat run past us and immediately squealed & turned around. We ended up going back into town to get a late lunch at Ben Thanh street food market, before doing a bit of shopping in the area. From there we went to a sky bar for some rooftop drinks and watch the sunset over the city.

We also spent half a day on a trip to the Cuchi Tunnels, and actually got to crawl through them, which was also quite eye opening. I’m not someone who easily gets claustrophobic, but I was starting to feel anxious after a minute; I really don’t know how people stayed underground for hours on end. The rest of the day was spent walking around and browsing markets for cheap finds. We got our final Vietnamese dinner at the market, and then spent our last night together going to a bar and dancing the night away with one of our roommates.

[retireearlyandtravel]

New Post has been published on https://www.retireearlyandtravel.com/zagorje-croatia/

Zagorje Croatia, a Super Romantic Place to See in the World

For a beautiful day trip from Zagreb, take a drive northwards about an hour to the Zagorje region of Croatia. The area is full of rolling hills and vineyards, small quaint homes, medieval burgs, and castles. The best sights to see in this area are the city of Varaždin and Trakošćan castle. As you probably know when traveling, Keith and I often like to take private tours. Taking a private tour allows us a chance to get to know a local, the guide. We also like having enough time to ask all our questions, and we like having the option to stay longer or less at a particular place.

Zico Tours, Varaždin + Trakošćan Castle

The private tour we took to the Zagorje region, Varaždin and the Trakošćan Castle, provided by Zico Tours was fantastic. Our private guide, Dijana, met us at our hotel. She had an SUV and driver waiting. While our driver concentrated on the road our guide, Dijana, began informing us about the area we were going to visit.

Trakošćan, a True Fairy Tale Castle

First up on our agenda, Zico Tours took us to the 13-century Trakošćan castle. Trakošćan castle perched on a hill overlooking a park and forest is a fine example of a fairy tale like fortification. In the eighteen hundreds, the owners and residents renovated the castle developing the romantic park setting around the perimeter. In 1944 the owners were forced to emigrate to Austria. Soon after that, the castle became nationalized and is still owned by the Croatian government today. Today it is a museum available to tour with a knights room, hunting room, music room and more. All of the weapons housed in the museum were those used by the residents of the castle or their help. The piano from the first half of the 19th century located in the music room is extremely valuable.

Touring the castle is interesting and not to be missed, but the real jewel is seeing the castle from across the lake. Originally the castle had, Romanesque features but in the mid-19th century, restoration of the castle took place in the neo-Gothic style. The beauty of the castle today took shape in the 1800’s. Keith and I have traveled a lot and have seen our fair share of castles. The view of Trakošćan castle sitting up on the hill, across the small lake, surrounded by stately green trees is a real treat. This part of the Zagorje area makes you feel as though you are in fairy tale land. The setting is so romantic, idyllic and picturesque you will want to take photos there for hours. In fact, we have this picture below made into a piece of art for our living room.

830+ Year Old City of Varaždin in Zagorje

Next up we visited the very old yet very beautiful city of Varaždin. Because Varaždin is so charming and filled with Baroque architecture, it is often called little Vienna. This city dating back to the 12th century was home to some of Croatia’s wealthiest and also many artists. In the late 1700’s it was even the capital of Croatia.

Our first stop was in the old town where there is a real castle, complete with a drawbridge that leads directly into the main square. Varaždin is also a college town. Many people visit this lively destination for art exhibits, music, and flowers. Walking around the town, you truly feel like you are reliving a by-gone era. The architecture is stunning, the streets and walkways are artfully laid out with a sense of purpose as well as beauty. Everywhere you look, there is something picturesque to enjoy.

  Guilds from Many Years Ago Exist Today

Varaždin is like an outdoor museum, for instance, between buildings we saw small niches with beautifully carved figures. Many shops had old signboards like a mermaid, which our guide told us represented exotic imports back in time, spread over a Chocolate shop. On the side of a building, we saw an iron man which Dijana said meant it was a blacksmith’s shop and today is a hardware store. We also saw this cute turtle hanging outside a shop, and that Dijana said stood for a grocery store.

In Varaždin there are all these little surprises. While walking along some of the side streets, we came across what we think is a sundial painted on the outside of a wall. Varaždin is not just a tourist city; it is very much a lived in a city with a vibe that only college towns have.  Varaždin is such an amazing city that the New York Times voted it one of 52 Places to visit in its 2014 list.

Where the Angels Sleep

When people think of Croatia, they think of Dubrovnik and Split. But the inland city, in the Zagorje region, of Varaždin is one of the most well preserved and picturesque cities in the country. It is also the city where the angels sleep. Over thirty years ago a local artist, Željko Prstec began painting motifs of Baroque angels under the banner of “Varaždin: the City where Angels Sleep.” Since this time others have joined in to make Varaždin the city of angels. If you have a keen eye as you walk the streets and visit restaurants and shops, you will see that these fairy tale like angels are everywhere.

A Street Organ and Authentic Croatian Food

For lunch, our guide suggested Verglec restaurant. This restaurant was a real treat. The restaurant takes its name from the barrel organ, an example of which sits at the entrance. A barrel organ or street organ as you may be more familiar with is a  mechanical musical instrument consisting of bellows and racks of pipes housed in a case, usually of wood, and beautifully decorated. Wooden barrels inside the organ contain encoded pieces of music. The basic principle is the same as a traditional pipe organ, but rather than an organist playing, the barrel organ plays once a person turns a crank. Of course, with something so cool as this I had to try playing!

Once I was able to drag myself away from the barrel organ, we sat at our table. We sat in a section of outdoor tables on a patio with climbing roses. We ordered some wine and perused the menu.

Dijana said that Verglec is known for having the most authentic Croatian food in Zagorje. For this tour, our driver was Dijana’s husband, a well known Zagreb artist. I asked him what people of the Zagoje region would have eaten regularly 50 years ago, and he told me cabbage and pasta. As kids, he ate it all the time. I would never have put those two things together, but that is what I ordered. The dish came, and it did not look spectacular, but one bite changed all of that. It was delicious. I could see why this was a popular dish. It was simple, cost-effective and the seasoning used on this brought all the flavors together. Everyone at the table voted it the best dish of lunch.

Possibly Europe’s Oldest Town Hall

After lunch, we walked around Varaždin some more. Dominating the central square of Varaždin is possibly Europe’s oldest town hall. This once old stone house was given to the people of Varaždin in 1523 and has been the town hall ever since. The coat of arms displayed proudly above the door depicts the city in the hands of angels!  There used to be a market in front of the town hall, but today it is filled with summer terraces offering a bite to eat or a coffee.

Varaždin Catherdral

In the 17th century, the Jesuits built this beautiful baroque church, St Mary’s Assumption, but is today Varaždin Cathedral.

There’s the square of Traditional Craftsmen

We saw hats and crafts in the square of traditional artisans.

The Same for Centuries

Gajeva Street is a popular pedestrian promenade. The baroque facades of the many Varaždin buildings lining the street are spectacular. The front side of the many townhomes of Varaždin’s old streets are the same as they were a few centuries ago.

Zagorje offers so much to see and do while in Croatia. It is like a trip into fairytale land with its beautiful castles and fortresses. The lovely maintained baroque architecture of Varaždin will charm you. Then there is the gastronomy of Zagorje known for its aroma, rich tastes, and home to some authentic Croatian food. To experience a true Croatian holiday, you must visit Zagorje! And be sure to do it with a great tour by Zico Tours.

Check out our 4 minute video of the castles

[joyflowerjournal]

montpellier trip 23rd march- 31st 2017

thursday 23rd: we got on the national express coach at about half nine, mine and bea's parents waved us off and we moved to the seats with loads of leg room at the back of the bus. couldn't sleep much as it was really cold and it was very funny when i came back to the toilet to find some random in my seat! Friday 24th: we had breakfast (at 5:30am) and got on the gatwick express which was lovely and warm and i listened to dear evan hansen and slept which was so nice. then we sat around in gatwick airport for a while and i read the grim grotto. me and bea got lunch (at 10:45am) and i had spicy chicken noodle salad. we got on the plane and flew over beaches and the sea to land in montpellier and proceeded to get picked up by violette (told us to call her vi) who took us on a long car journey to her house listening to classical music. she made me a "chocolat" and we had butter biscuits and those pretzel shaped flaky biscuits and bea had orange juice. there were also chocolate covered nuts and sugared kiwi slices and marzipan fruit in a long box. then frédérique arrived and we drove back to her house and she showed us the apartment and our room and we met the colombian girl. i then had a shower and afterwards me and bea found a funny sex ed book which we translated and giggled lots at. for dinner we had an odd perfumed vegetable in tomato sauce and a flaky pastry salmon pie with leek, courgette and cucumber and for pudding we had little homemade chocolate puddings in cases. we all discussed brexit and the far-right and all agreed they were stupid. we gave frédérique her cadeaux and she loved the waitrose bag and all my presents and she gave me and bea each three kisses in the montpellian way. Saturday 25th: in the morning me and bea had coco pops and orange juice and i also had nutella blanc on a tartine things (biscuit toast). frédérique then walked us to accent francais where we met our group and we then walked to the shopping centre and bookshop and the arc de triomphe and saw all the neo-classical buildings and ran in the fountain. me and bea got Apple strudels from a boulangerie in the shopping centre (pentagone) and we also used the make your own orange juice machine in monoprix and bought some petit étudiants. for lunch our group went to a crêparie (the best in montpellier supposedly) and the waitresses pushed together all the outside tables and put on the heaters and we all had crêpes there (i had banane caramel). we then watched a man do a funny show in the square me and bea then went back to the bookshop with many layers, floors and rooms and i bought "culottées" which is a cool BD about cool women. i also bought a notebook and bea bought some books for her and her mum to read. we then walked back home but got very lost on the last corner and ended up walking around the area for about an hour and asking some people in shops but eventually by 7.00 we found our apartment. when we got home we ate fish with bones in and potatoes with vegetables and bread and for pudding we had strawberries in a bowl with nutella blanc and the cornish farings bea brought with her. we then went out with the colombian girl and frédérique to the theatre and as we drove through some tunnels to the little village i said that it's like that scene in intouchables and frédérique agreed. we watched the show which was amazing: the songs were so good and the actress (frédérique's friend) was very talented at playing the violin, guitar, acting and singing. afterwards we ate snacks like crisps and marshmallows and drank apple juice and peach iced tea in the foyer of the cinema and met some of frédérique's friends (many bisous x3) and then we drove home and i facetimed berry and mum as lisa just arrived. now we are going to sleep. Sunday 26th: me and bea got our own breakfast because frédérique's alarm didn't go off, frédérique said she loved my tights and that we dress "trèa anglaise" and then we left the house and walked through sunny quiet morning montpellier. there was no one around and we went inside the church to see a service happening which was nice. we then found a shortcut to the station and got catcalled/yelled at by 2 french men and bea stuck her middle finger up at them once we got on the coach who were waiting for us. our tour guide from accent francais for avignon told us about how much he loves bernie sanders and hates marie le pen "SHE'S A SNAKE!". we spent an hour driving through beautiful sunny french countryside and even drove through rochefort! first we went to le point d'avingon and our tour guide jean-paul played the song on his flute and made us all dance down the bridge! we saw ducks, the beginnings of he alps and a children's playground. afterwards we had lunch in the square of avignon in a little restaurant and there was a marathon going on. i had poulet frites and bea had fish soup (delicacy of the region). we then shopped in some little tourist shops and then went to the pope's palace where i chatted with moneeza and bea about the romanesque architecture. we saw a minion in the town square and also lots of confetti. we drove back on the coach to le point du gard where it was so hot! there were so many little fluffy seeds flying through the air which was beautiful. we walked along the bridge and around the site and jean-paul told us about the history of the bridge in his funny southern french accent "demen maten". we then drove back and i listened to blondie and read the grim grotto. me and bea walked home afterwards and sat on the terrace for a bit because it was still sunny and warm at 7pm! for dinner we ate a quiche that tasted like pasty and some lettuce salad. we drank fig sirop too and for pudding we had l'isle puddings with cornish fairings and fudge which we bought frédérique. after dinner me and bea watched "guess the age" which was a french game show in which the title is self explanatory. i then facetimed berry and lisa and spoke some french with lisa and lent her my pencil case. i then showered and me and bea discussed bea talking in her sleep last night and her alarm making me jump. Monday 27th: me and bea got up a bit earlier and got our breakfast on our own because frédérique went to work; we had some variety cereal packs alongside our usual food. we then left for accent francais and came into the lovely building that is accent francais and met our teacher aurélia. she made us do little introductions and we told her the month we were born and our star sign (there were 4 taurus people including me). we learnt how to faire la bise and how each region has a different number of kisses and also watched a funny english video about la bise. we learnt about stereotypes in france and compared them to some in england and during our 15 minute break me and bea looked in the little record/book/cd/BD store next door to our accent francais building. after our lesson ended we had a little tour of monpellier with jean-paul and some girls from las vegas and new zealand and a boy from switzerland. after our tour me and bea walked back home and on the way we bought smoothies/frozen yoghurt drinks (bea had berries flavour and i had mango flavour) and i watched the man mix the frozen yoghurt with mango sauce and chunks of mango and whizz them all together. it was really hot when we walked back and once we were home we sat outside on the terrace and had a little goûter of petit écolier biscuits and oreo chocolate. i read culottées and bea wrote her diary and bobby the little cat came and sat with us in the sunshine. frédérique brought out some apple and pastry to us and when the sun came in she gave us a red blanket. it was so lovely and warm and bobby was playing with the straw from my drink which was really cute. for dinner we had lobster soup with croutons and bread which was surprisingly really good. we ate with camilla (colombian girl) and frédérique got ready to go out to violette's house for dinner. she kept asking us which shoes and jacket to wear which was funny, and for dessert we had a huge apple pie which was so yummy. we chatted with camilla about disney films and how she was almost a mechanic but chose to be a doctor instead. after dinner she showed us (on her phone with the ute dog case) the trailer of a film about a french girl who sings but her family is deaf. afterwards me and bea read the bee movie fanfic and laughed so so so hard and researched bee anatomy which was hilarious. we then went to bed after i facetimed mum and berry (her and lisa were watching frozen). Tuesday 28th: bea and i woke up at 7:45am and got our usual breakfast and had a slice of apple pie with it. at accent francais (we walked with lila and some other girls half the way) we learnt about boules the game and la famille. we also did a presentation about english traditions in groups (i was with bea and ciaran and we chose guy fawkes night); other groups did cheese-rolling, netball and he royal family. we then got lunch and i went with lila and anna to polygone (the shopping centre) and bought some kind of long pain au chocolat from paul's boulangerie and lila bought a punnet of strawberries from a stall where the last showed us how to wear our bags so we wouldn't get pickpocketed. we ate lunch on the grass next to the fountain dans la place du comédie and bea, rebecca and ciaran got noodles and we all talked about our siblings and cousins. it was so sunny and lovely. we then went to the train station where i bought a 1€ french zine called jealouse and we got the train to nîmes, sitting on the top deck, and met the german garçon "marvin" who was on the tour with us. we walked around all the little streets in nîmes (i bought a chocolate egg for snuff) and saw lots of old roman buildings and gothic style churches, including the bull fighting ring where there are bull fights 3 fois par aneé and concerts/conferences the rest of the time. elena and i applied lots and lots of sun cream together. in our 40 minute break me, lila, rebecca, anna, bea and marvin got crêpes in the square and chatted in the sun about places in england marvin had stayed in. on our walk afterwards we saw men playing boules in the sun under the shade of the trees and jean-paul played a traditional boules song on his flute and tous les hommes joined in singing. we went to some beautiful gardens and on the way back to the train station we walked past a group of street dancing boys who jean paul impersonated by turning his cap backwards and doing funny street dance moves which was hilarious. marvin then played the broken piano in the train station and we got the train back to montpellier. i sat with rebecca, lila and next to anna and we ate fizzy worms and did sex quizzes in anna's cosmo magazine and laughed a lot. me and bea walked home afterwards (got asked by some random dude if we knew where a nearby tattoo parlour was) and once we got back we had a look at some of frédérique's games but then we had to have dinner. for starters we had yummy bread and carrot salad and for mains there was spinich and eggs and potatoes but i just ate the potatoes and bread. i also drank fig sirop with water. after dinner we chatted with frédérique about english vs french sayings eg. "oh my god" vs "oh mon dieu" and "ohlala" vs "wow!" and "yikes!" and also laughed a lot at the way google translate pronounced "sprain" and the way frédérique pronounced it. we then watched "la famille bélier" which was the movie camilla showed us the trailer of. it was so good! we ate peanut butter m&ms and oreo chocolate and all cried a bit at the end of the film when paula leaves her family. i then had a shower and me and bea worked out the timings to go to the cinema tomorrow after lessons. Wednesday 29th: me and bea had our usual breakfast with camilla and we chatted about how emma watson always has the same facial expression. we then walked to accent francais and it was very warm. we learnt about the conditional and and played a game where we had to describe people eg "si j'étais une fleur, je serais..." sl me and ciaran and alex wrote about jean-paul and his clothing habits/knowledge of l'occitane. two groups chose to write about bea, one group chose elena and one group chose me (see below) (also they chose Emma Watson as my celebrity). me, bea and ciaran chose to create a petit jean-paul (P.J.P) for our teleshopping product in the culture part of the lesson. for lunch we got noodles from the taiwanese shop where you choose what you want and watch them cook it in giant woks. we walked to some gardens and i ate with bea, ciaran, lila, rebecca and anna. we sat on the daisy covered grass (even though the signs said not to sit on the grass) in front of the lake with ducks and a turtle in. it was so hot and sunny and relaxing even if there were tons of midgies and me and anna made daisy chain necklaces and crowns. after lunch we visited a little cathedral and had to cover our shoulders and legs but we didn't. we then met jean-paul in the place de la comédie and walked with him to a little local food shop where we tried lavendar shortbread, apple juices with aniseed and other spice flavours and a red peach smoothie thing. i drank lots of glasses because i was very thirsty and had pretty much finished all the water that lila and i went into a restaurant to have our bottles filled up with. after our tasting session, me and bea went and bought our tickets to see la belle et la bête (we got student discount) and then posted her postcards in the post office and sat on the grass by the fountain in the sun for a little while because it was still about 20 degrees celsius. we watched the film in a very cool cinema where the toilets were next to the screen! the film was amazing (me and bea found it absolutely crying-with-laughter hilarious when belle gets knocked to the ground by the beast's snowball but no one else laughed) and so good in french because it's actually set in france! afterwards we kept singing the "gaston" song ("nooooooooo oooonnnnnnnnnnne..... fIGHTS LIKE GASTON") and walked back home. frédérique said we looked "trop mignonnes" and wanted to take pictures of us on the balcony while the sun was out. we then had a dinner of goats cheese on toasted bread with tuna and lettuce salad and then some of the quiche from the other night. for dessert we had strawberries and cornish fairings and some spanish dark chocolate fortune cookie kind of things. on tv they played a few seconds of "chanter les...." from les demoiselles de rochefort which i thought was funny. after dinner me and bea chatted for ages and i packed up my suitcase and we then read the lyrics of "gaston" like a poem which was funny. we talked about how i thought gaston was hot but she didn't. we then went to sleep. Thursday 30th: we had our usual breakfast but without frédérique and then walked to accent francais and had a lesson where we did our teleshopping presentations (we did petit jean-paul) and then learnt about internet and applying the conditional tense and watched/discussed the video for carmen by stromae which is about twitter taking over the world. at lunch we went to paul and i had a gourmandise and one of ciaran's strawberries when we sat on the grass by the fountain. on our way to polygone there was a stall with one super cute goat called britget and two little black pigs called romeo and juliette who were collecting for animal vaccinations and selling cough sweets so we stroked them and they were so fluffy and cute. we then walked to the train station where me and ciraran paid €0.50 to go to the toilet and then walked with bea to the bus station and got on the bus with jean-paul. it was very hot on the bus so i switched to the side with the shade of the coach and put my suncream on and listened to blondie. we then stopped for 10 minutes at some fortress but i stayed in the coach with the driver and closed my eyes. when we got to carmargue (sp?) we straight away got on a tourist boat (i sat with marvin the german guy and bea) and went on a very hot boat trip on the river/canal. we saw lots of cool birds, sweet little houses, boats, bulls and fish and the sun was blasting down on us throughout. we stopped off halfway to watch the bulls being herded by two people on horses and jean-paul said "young people, up here there is a grand view" so we watched from a little hill. we then took the same route back and i chatted with marvin lots about star signs, wearing glasses/contacts, english accents and autres trucs comme ça. when we got back we went into the little town with lots of tourist shops and found a nice cafe in the sun where i sat with bea, marvin, anna, rebecca and eventually lila when she got back from getting her ice cream which was "stingy" (word of the day alongside wet wipe) and didn't even come up past the cone which was hilarious. i had a sirop au lait with menthe flavour (everyone was so confused as to what it was) and bea had a coke and the others had crêpes. we found out that marvin DOESN'T LIKE CHOCOLATE and so we kept asking him stuff like "easter must be a sad time for you" and "what do you eat???" and we all said he is part of the 5% of the world's population that doesn't like it. we then met up with jean-paul and the group and walked on the pier down to the end where people were fishing on the rocks near the lighthouse. we climbed on the rocks and jean-paul told us about everything and then we walked back up to a little beach where lila and bea paddled in the sea and took pictures on bea's camera. anna was shocked to hear that marvin didn't like chocolate and said he was part of the 5% and marvin was like "does everyone in cornwall know this fact? is it something the cornish learn in their schools???" and we talked about eye colour and how mine were green and i was part of the apparent 2% and he looked right into my eyes which was cute. we talked about surfing in england and watersports and he said he wanted to come to cornwall and learn how to surf. we then walked back up to our coach and on the way back i sat behind marvin with lila, anna, rebecca, some other girls and ciaran and we all sang sk8er boy by avril lavine (song of the TRIP) and then complicated and then what the hell all by avril lavine. we also listened to september by earth, wind & fire and papaoutai by stromae (also song of the trip). when we got back me and bea started looking for a tobacco shop because at breaktime alex (only other boy on our trip other than ciaran) told us he bought cigarettes and alcohol in montpellier without getting asked for any ID and had been doing so in france since he was about 14. we found one quite easily that sold alcohol and chose the cheapest wine (€5) and handed it over to the lady at the desk who sold it to us and was like "merci, au revoir!" so me and bea held on tight to the bottle and ran out into the street to give each other a massive high five. WE JUST EXTREMELY EASILY BOUGHT ALCOHOL AGED 16 AND 17!!!!! we were so so so happy then we realised the bottle had a cork in the top so we ran into monoprix to buy a corkscrew opener for €5,50 and some crisps and then we walked home feeling very happy. we sat outside for dinner and had salad with yummy croutons and a courgette pie made with breadcrumbs and some rice too. for dessert we had yoghurt/apple compote (i had fig savour) and we chatted about camilla's family drama ("quelle drâme!") and frédérique's husbands/loves and children/grandchildren. she asked if me and bea had any "petit(e) amoureux(euses) and bea told her about her bf cameron and i said "j'aime les garçons et les filles mais non je n'ai trouvé pas qqn" and she said she is sure i will. we also had those funny dark chocolate fortune cookie type biscuits for dessert and when i held my hands out to have a biscuit she said "ohhh j'aime beaucoup quand tu mets les mains comme ça!" which was sweet. after dinner we did la bise and hugged and said goodbye and thank you and she said we were lovely sweet girls and she's loved having us here. we then sat in our room/on the balcony and ate our crisps (which turned out to be mustard flavour but still yummy) drank our bottle of wine which tasted bad at first but then the more drunk we got the better it tasted. i started off telling bea about how i never really get drunk easily but then when i got up to go to the toilet all my limbs were wobbly and i couldn't walk in a straight line and i realised I GOT PROPERLY DRUNK FOR THE SECOND TIME IN MY LIFE!!! we were rolling around on the floor and laughing so much and it was so funny and great; we couldn't believe that €2,50 worth of cheap french wine (we drank half the bottle each could get us THAT drunk! frédérique came out on her balcony and asked us if we were smoking and we said no but then we realised we were being quite loud so we went back inside and i had a shower whilst still very drunk and then we went to bed after bea told me the story of how her brother cracked his face open when they were little. we then went to sleep. Friday 31st: we got up at 7:45 (i was still a bit drunk and my head was all woozy and i couldn't walk straight) to have our last breakfast and then got our suitcases together and left for the bus stop. we hugged camilla goodbye ("i will say goodbye now because i am late!") and i put our rubbish bag (with our empty wine bottle in) into the rubbish bin opposite our flat. we got the number 7 bus to l'observatoire with our suitcases and saw lots of lycée kids on the way. we got to accent francais a bit late but carried our suitcases up (too) many flights of stairs and after searching lots, put them in a funny room. we then had our last lesson at accent francais and learnt about fashion rules in france (no 3 different colours and only supposed to show 2 out of 3 areas deemed risqué which were chest, legs and butt) and we also learned about different foods. at breaktime me and bea rushed to polygone to go to monoprix for fresh orange juice and buy pastries from paul. we then walked back to accent francais after looking at the farmyard animals again and continued our lesson and at the end they gave us certificates and we all took a big group photo. we then collected our suitcases, got the blue air tram with white birds on, got another packed bus and eventually arrivals at the airport. me, alex and bea sat on the terrace and i wrote this and then we boarded the plane and i read the grim grotto. our flight arrived 35 minutes early so we went into marks & spencer and bought food for dinner (i got a mango pot, coke and a chicken noodle salad) then me and bea sat on the airport floor and ate our mango. we then waited for our coach and imagined what would happen if jean-paul arrived with a "hello young people!" / "hello the cornish! / *flute playing sur le point d'Avignon song*. we then got our coach back to cornwall where i read the grim grotto, listened to the same 4 sufjan stevens songs for an hour and ate my salad. we stopped off for 45 minutes at taunton service station where i sat with ciaran and elenor and a few others and we drank coffee and made jokes about moneeza and becky and i played with elenor's bouncy ball she bought with moneeza's ��1 from one of those kiddie machines. we then drove back to cornwall and i listened to the spring awakening obcr and then went to sleep until we reached bodmin where i listened to the whisper of the heart soundtrack until we were back in cornwall and mum picked me up from college.