#we went to the natural history museum and walked through central park

[miauwing]

❤️

[mirkwoodshewolf]

History comes to life; Ahkmenrah x reader

*Author’s note*

Hey guys well this has been a LOOOOONG time coming in. For years I’ve alwasy wanted to try and write an Ahkmenrah fanfic and thanks to a Wattpad friend of mine, she gave me that chance. So here we are with my first Ahkmenrah fanfic. Now this is only part 1 and I’ll try to have pt.2 up as soon as I can. Hope you all enjoy this fic my lovelies :)

UPDATE: PART 2 IS HERE

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things​

@waddles03​

@psychosupernatural​

@ixchel-9275​

@dancingcoolcat​

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels​

@kairosfreddie​

@queendeakyy​

@geek-and-proud​

@simonedk​

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2006. New York City. The Museum of Natural History. My home away from home.  I mean to a college girl going for a master’s degree history that’s a lot, and all at the age of 23.  Yeah whenever it came to school I was always deemed the ‘smart one’ or in some cases the ‘nerd’.  

Was Valedictorian in high school, completed my bachelor’s degree within my first 2 years of college and now I’m completing a 4 year master’s degree.  Not only that but I once did an entire year abroad in Egypt as a part of one of my courses that gave me 3 credits for one of my History courses.

And now here I am completing an internship credit instead of going for a core course credit, here at the Museum of Natural History.  So far into my second week of my three month internship it’s been pretty good.  Since I’m also having to write my dissertation about the ruling of Ahkmenrah, this place has been a great place to think.

Whenever I wasn’t needed by the boss, Dr. McPhee, you would normally find me in the Ancient Egypt hall, sitting in the room of the pharaoh himself writing my paper.  And I know it sounds crazy but sometimes I wish that I could actually have the chance to speak with him, I mean if I’m to complete my dissertation I wish to know things that I didn’t already know (there’s only so much you can find on the Internet).

Little did I know that that day would soon come, and it all started with a blast from the past. 

I was currently walking down the steps after completing my day here at the museum when I saw walking with Cecil, one of the three night guards an old ��boss’ you could say.

“Well I’ll be damned. Larry Daley.” I greeted as I came up to them.

“Oh hey, hi uhh…..” ahh the same old Larry forgetful Daley.

“(Y/n) (l/n). I used to live down the road from you guys.”

“Oh right sorry! Wow it’s been a long time.”

“Yeah about 3 years since I graduated high school.” I said with a smile.

“So I see you know our new nightguard huh Ms. (l/n)?” asked Cecil.

“Yeah I’ve babysit his son since the day he was born. How is Nicky by the way?”

“Oh he’s you know good. Fine. Loving hockey.”

“Oh that boy and his hockey. I remember he tried to get me to play it in the house and we ended up breaking that lamp.”

“Yeah thanks for reporting that.”

“Even though he tried to convince me not to speak of it.” I giggled. “So Cecil says you’re going to be the new night guard?”

“Yep. Just showing Larry around, giving him a little tour before his shift tomorrow night.” Cecil explained.

“Well, welcome to the team.”

“So do you work here too?”

“Oh no I’m just here for an internship credit but Dr. McPhee has allowed me to do further researching even after my internship’s up.”

“Read her dissertation a couple of days ago, she’s quite the researcher. Any further questions you can always ask her.” Cecil said.

“Oh Cecil you old charmer stop it. Well I better get out of here before traffic gets too crazy. Bye Cecil, Mr. Daley, welcome aboard again and I hope to see you before your shift tomorrow.”

“Yeah of course, see yah then (y/n).” I smiled and gave the gentlemen a nod goodbye before bundling up and walking out into the New York winter air.

I was now at home typing up what I had written down on paper and transferred it to the rest of my dissertation that was on Word.  I heard my door open and in came in my mom and she said.

“Dinner’s ready.”

“Okay mama, just half a minute and I’ll have everything typed up.”

“Sweetie you’ve been working non-stop ever since you got home. You can step aside for ten minutes to eat dinner.” I looked up at her then saved the changes I had and said.

“Fine mama, you win.” She grinned down and said to me.

“I always do. Until you become a mother yourself, you’ll never win.” I scowled up at her before the two of us walked out of my room and headed downstairs to eat.

As we ate our dinner, I told her about my progress and about Mr. Daley now working for the museum as the new nightguard.

“Wow, Larry Daley. Hadn’t heard from him in a while. Not since the official divorce.”

“Wait what?”

“Oh honey I’m sorry to tell you this but Larry and Erica were going through a divorce this past year.”

“Ahh man. How’s Nicky taking it?” I asked.

“Well last time I ever talked to Larry he told me it was a joint custody agreement. Now whether that went through or not I’m not sure.”

“It must’ve, I mean he did say Nicky was still playing hockey so that must mean he gets to have Nicky at least some days of the week, maybe the weekends.”

“Erica was always hard on him. Even when they first got together. Don’t tell her I said that though.”

“I promise mom.”

After dinner, I took the dishes and cleaned them out before placing them in the dishwasher before going back to my paper. Before I even knew it when I finally ran out of ideas and edits, I saw that it was after midnight.  So after saving everything I shut my laptop off and got ready for bed.

The next day it was like any other day.  I went in, did my rounds for Dr. McPhee, organized some files and edited some papers.  Then after my lunch break I had time to do my paper for the final 4 hours of my day today.  Even with the small crowd of people in the Pharaoh’s tomb, I wasn’t really bothered or distracted from doing my dissertation.

In fact I was so invested into it that I almost didn’t hear the voice speak over me.

“Hard worker as ever.” I looked up and smiled at Mr. Daley.

“So, ready for your first night tonight?”

“I don’t think it should be that hard. I mean not really anything happens in a museum at night.”

“Do you got a second? Just wanted to see if you’re interested in a cup of coffee. Colleague to colleague?”

“So not just for the sake of me being your old babysitter? Is that all I am to you now, just a colleague?”

“No. I mean yes. But not in that way I mean I was just…..” I laughed and said.

“I’m just pulling your buttons Mr. Daley. I’d love to get a cup of coffee. Maybe even educate you on what you’ll be guarding.” I packed up my stuff and we both headed out to the coffeeshop just down the block from the museum.

As we walked around Central Park he asked me.

“So that paper you were writing earlier, what’s it on?”

“Oh it’s my dissertation paper for my master’s degree.”

“Masters?! Wait so you already got your bachelor’s?”

“Yeah. I got it just last year. Now for my masters I’m doing the full 4 years so in total I’ll be doing 6 years of college.”

“Wow, sounds exhausting.”

“It can be, but I can’t help it. I’ve got a thirst for knowledge. And as an ancient civilizations concentrator I can’t help but want more.”

“Yep your mom always did call you her little book worm.” I smiled and nodded. “So that paper.”

“Oh yes that. Well I’m doing my dissertation on the ruling of Ahkmenrah and how he was the most justified ruler Ancient Egypt had ever known. Sure there have been good pharaoh’s but I’m setting to prove just how fair and just Ahkmenrah truly was as a ruler. Even with his short time as king.”

“How long did he rule?”

“Well he was given the crown by his father when he was just 16 and ruled for only 4 years before he was murdered by his own brother.”

“Yikes.”

“Yeah, his brother was extremely jealous of Ahkmenrah. So much so that after murdering his brother, he tried to claim the throne only to throw Egypt into despair in just under a year of his ruling.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah. Ahkmenrah sought to treat everyone with a kind but firm hand when need be. Did you know that he was the only pharaoh known to be kind to the Hebrew slaves?”

“I did not.”

“Yeah. He even tried to seek out a fair system where they wouldn’t have to work on their sacred holidays. Of course it wasn’t passed yet because well—he died just before he could declare it a law.”

“Wow, things would’ve turned out very differently had that happened.”

“Yeah. Cecil’s also been a good resource too since he was there when he found his tomb when he was just a kid.”

“Cecil found Ahkmenrah’s tomb?”

“Yeah. The three sarcophagus’ of him and his parents.”

“But wait I thought you said he had a brother?”

“He was. His brother wasn’t buried with them. Kahmunrah was condemned to be mummified alive and buried in a tomb far beyond the royal family’s because of what he had done.”

“Wow that’s—horrifying. Don’t they like rip their guts out or something?”

“All their organs were placed into jeweled canopic jars.”

“Wow. I think I lost my appetite to drink this coffee now.”

“Sorry Mr. Daley, I can be a little assertive when describing some of the things the Ancient Egyptians did. But you should’ve seen me when I actually got to set foot in an actual mummification area.”

“So you actually went to Egypt?”

“Yeah last year during my bachelor’s degree last spring. I spent an entire semester down there. Learned a lot, and I can speak a little Arabic. Ancient Egyptian is a little rusty but I know like a word or two.”

“So if you could, could you read what’s written around the tomb of Ahkmenrah?”

“Now you’re really challenging me Mr. Daley.”

“Thought you said you loved a challenge?” I chuckled.

“That I did. But sadly no. Probably a word or two as I said.” I looked down at my watch and said.  “It’s almost sunset, better get back to the museum less you wanna get fired on your first day. I’ll check in on you first thing tomorrow.”

“Okay, thanks for the little history lesson on the pharaoh (y/n).”

“Anytime. And here, give me your phone.” He handed it to me and I went through his contacts to see if he still had my number. Turns out he didn’t so I went ahead and gave him my new number since I got a new phone. “Here, any questions or concerns or if you just wanna chat. Give me a call.”

“Thanks (y/n). Anything I can do for you, just let me know.”

“Give me a chance to see that knucklehead Nicky again and we’ll call it even.”

“Will do.”

“Well good luck Larry.”

“Thanks.” I waved goodbye and walked back towards the nearest exit and hailed down a taxi and told them my address.

As I lay down in my bed after typing up the next several pages of my paper, I charged up my flip phone since it was almost dead from this week’s use.

“Hope Larry’s liking his new job. I’d give anything to stay the night in that place.” I stretched myself out and cuddled into my bed before falling asleep.

Bright and early the next morning I got around and headed on out of the house.

“Mama I’m heading out!” I cried out.

“Have a good day sweetie, give my love to Larry for me.”

“Will do mama.” I gathered up my stuff and took the bus toward the museum.

Once I got there, I entered inside just to see Mr. Daley walk out.

“So how was the first night?” he looked at me like he had just been through a rumble with Mike Tyson or the Rock as he said.

“Well I—”

“Dad.” A young boy’s voice said.  We both turned to see Nicky walking with another man with short black hair and looked younger than Mr. Daley.

“Hey, hey buddy. What are you guys doing here?”

“Oh Erica had to be in court early today so I’m taking Mr. Big stuff here to school. But he wanted to swing by see your new job.” The man explained with a smile.

“It’s so awesome that you’re working here.” Nicky praised.

“Well your dad gets a praise but I don’t get so much as a hello?” I teased.

“(Y/n)!” he came up and hugged me and I hugged the little monkey back. “Do you work here too?”

“No I’m just here as an intern for a couple of months.”

“So Nicky whose your friend here?” the man asked.

“Right, (y/n) this is Don. Erica’s new uhh…well he’s her new….” Larry tried to explain but Don butted in by saying with a business man snake-like smile.

“I’m her boyfriend. So you’re the famous (y/n) the babysitter I’ve heard about.”

“Yeah. So you’re the new guy huh?” I looked over him once over and all I saw was a monkey in a suit with an earpiece to his ear.

“Yeah.” He shrugged like it was nothing. “Hey Nicko. Wanna take a lookie-do inside. Maybe your dad or your friend can give you a VIP tour?”

“You know what we’re actually kinda slammed this morning but I promise I’ll show you around soon bud, deal?”

“Deal. Love you dad.”

“Love you too.” Nicky hugged his dad and Mr. Daley gave Nick a kiss on the top of his head before he and Don walked hand in hand across the crosswalk before heading towards his school. “Yeah Erica and I are going through a—”

“I know, mom told me the other night. I’m so sorry. You both seemed really happy together.”

“Yeah well sometimes life happens. I’m just thankful I get Nick on Wednesdays and every other weekend.” He said solemnly as he kept his eyes on Nicky.

“Were you really thinking about quitting?”

“How did you…..”

“I’ve seen that walk so many times with my friends. Hell I’ve even done that walk before once at the Library of Congress. So c’mon Mr. Daley the truth.”

“Last night was……intense I’ll admit. But I really want Nick to be proud of me, and not see me as…..ordinary.”

“As Teddy Roosevelt once said, ‘some men are born great, others have greatness thrust upon them’. Maybe this is your moment. Look I know being the night guard may not be the funniest job ever for you. But don’t do it for yourself, do it for Nicky.” I said as I placed my hand on his shoulder.  He looked up at me and said.

“You truly were the best babysitter Nicky ever had. No wonder how he got so wise.”

“History geek, you get great life quotes. Not just from Star Wars or Lord of the Rings.” I then skipped up the steps and walked inside.

“Oi intern!” I sighed heavily.  Even after 2 weeks he never really does call me by my name.

“Yes Dr. McPhee?”

“The Egyptian tour guide called in sick this morning, I want you to take over his shift. You’ve got the better resume to give a tour with your year abroad. So do it.”

“Yes Dr. McPhee.”

“And see to it that the children don’t touch the exhibit. God I hate it when those sticky little monsters think a museum is a-a-a-a-a…..touchy place.” He then turned away mumbling to himself.

“Out of all the bosses I’ve had, he’s by far the goofiest and strictest. But it’s better than organizing files again.” I then went up and Rebecca handed me my Egyptian tour guidance flag and I waited for the first wave of guests which was in fact kids from the middle school I went to years ago.

When the class arrived I greeted them and told them my name and that I would be their tour guide today.  I walked them through the Egyptian wing before finally leading them to the tomb of the Pharaoh.

“Now we are finally arriving into the tomb of the pharaoh himself. King Ahkmenrah was known as one of the youngest pharaohs to rule in the Upper kingdom of Egypt in 232 BC. He was even the first pharaoh to be crowned above his older sibling.” It was then I had a young girl raise her hand. “Yes sweetheart?”

“What are these statues?” she gestured towards the 20ft. jackal guards.

“Ahh those are the Anubis guards. The Egyptian god Anubis, Lord of the dead is said to be the judge of the underworld. He would deem by balancing your soul on a scale with sand and if your soul weighed heavier than the sand, you would be damned in the underworld. But if your soul was lighter, you’d be granted peace in the afterlife. His guards which you see up there are the protectors of bodies, especially over the royal families tombs.” I got another hand raise this time from a black child.

“Do the mummy’s really get wrapped up in toilet paper?” at that the kids all laughed, to which I couldn’t help but laugh.

“No. No it’s not toilet paper. They get wrapped in special linen which is sorta like a gauze wrap. How many of you had an injury and your parents would wrap your injury with a sorta white bandage?” I got a few hands raised. “It’s basically that. But before they wrap up the bodies, they expose the body to a type of oil and salt to de-moisturize the body so that it could be preserved from the elements.” Another boy asked.

“What exactly is that gold thing up there?” I looked up and I said.

“Ahh that my dear boy is the tablet of Ahkmenrah himself. It arrived here at this museum in 1952 from the Nile expedition. It is said to bring the dead back to life.”

“Yeah right.” The boy sassed back.  Kids today, so desensitized by movies and television.

“It’s a legend but never mock the powers of Egyptian magic. Okay kids, why don’t you have a look around and check him out. But please don’t touch the stone slab.” I then walked aside and the kids all gathered around Ahkmenrah’s sarcophagus. “If only it were real.” I muttered as I sat down and rested my feet.

The day dragged on until finally I was clear to go home.  I decided that for tonight, I would leave my dissertation for next time and just immediately go to bed.  I covered myself up with my thick warm blanket and was out like a light.

The next day it was just about closing time and once again I was in the tomb of Ahkmenrah.  I stared down at his sarcophagus sighing softly.

“Excuse me miss, I’m afraid I’m gonna have to ask you to vacate the premises.” I jolted slightly but when I turned around I saw that it was only Mr. Daley.

“Oh sorry, just—kinda got caught up in my thoughts is all.” He switched his flashlight off and walked up to me.

“So this whole Egyptian stuff really—gets to you doesn’t it?”

“Ancient Egypt has probably been one of my most favorite ancient civilization. It’s just fascinating of how the Egyptians were able to build things like the pyramids, the sphinx, and intricate tombs that have endless passages in order to trap graverobbers when they didn’t have the technology we have today. It’s amazing.”

“Yeah, guess that is kinda cool.” We stood there side by side in brief silence before he said, “Hey (y/n), do you really believe History comes to life?”

“I mean yes. In a way all around us we are always being given knowledge of every historical moment. And this museum helps us to actually in a way live through it.”

“I mean do you truly believe that history can come to life?”

“I—don’t get what you’re saying Larry.”

“I mean that…..I tried to tell Rebecca this earlier but she ran off on me. She thought I was making fun of her but I really wasn’t I’m telling the truth, I told her the truth.”

“What truth?” he looked around before he leaned close to me and whispered.

“Everything in this museum comes to life. At night. All because of that tablet. Ever since they brought it here back in 1952, everything in this museum came to life.” I looked at him before saying.

“Uhh—have you been overworking yourself again?”

“No, no I swear to you (y/n) I’m not lying.”

“Look, your shift’s about to start and I should really get going. We’ll—talk about this tomorrow. Goodnight Mr. Daley.” I quickly walked around him but I could hear him trying to call out to me.

As I exited the museum I began thinking back to what he was saying.  I mean I know I said that there could be a slight chance that the tablet of Ahkmenrah could hold some magic but this—this is something else.  I hailed a cab and asked him to drive me back to my place and in just 10 minutes I arrived back home.

As it got darker and snow began to fall from the sky, what Larry had told me earlier this evening was still spinning in my head.  I mean what he said was absolutely crazy, if he was implying that the figurines, statues, and the actual pharaoh himself can come to life at night—he was even crazier than when I first met him.

Suddenly something was thrown at my window.  I gasped and turned on my lamp to see the leftover remains of a snowball.  I got up from my bed and looked out the window to see some figures standing down along the sidewalk.

From the streetlights I could see that it was Larry and Nicky but along with them were two others.  One was dressed up as an Egyptian pharaoh and the other was dressed like Attila the Hun.  I put on my coat and boots and quietly walked down the stairs and unlocked the door.

“Nicky? Mr. Daley? What are you guys doing here?”

“Hey (y/n) look I know this is a lot to take in right now and I don’t have a lot of time to explain so I’m gonna cut right to the point. Cecil stole the tablet of Ahkmenrah, along with Gus and Reginald. We have the other two back at the museum but we need your help in getting Cecil.”

“Whoa wait what? Mr. Daley you mean to tell me that the former head of security, someone I’ve looked up to for years has stolen the tablet of Ahkmenrah? Why would he want to steal it?”

“He said he and the other two guards were gonna sell it so that they could get a wealthy long retirement.” Nicky spoke up. I then turned to the two costumed gentlemen and I said.

“Am I missing the historical convention or something?”

“No, no, no. You know how I told you the tablet makes things in the museum come to life? I’d like you to meet Attila the Hun and the pharaoh himself Ahkmenrah.” I turned towards them and almost couldn’t believe it, especially with ‘Ahkmenrah’.

I mean there’s never been a real documented picture of him due to his short reign but—he was kinda cute. Wait what am I saying? This could all be a trick.

It was then Attila said something in Mandarin as he nodded to me.  I looked at him confused, that’s when Ahkmenrah said.

“He says he’s honored to meet someone who knows his true history and not the fables that surrounded him.” I walked up to Ahkmenrah and I looked him over.  His light blue eyes and sun kissed skin.

“How do I know you’re not just some method actor?”

“I assure you my lady I am no actor. But if you want to test me since you know so much about my history especially, ask me something only I would know.” I crossed my arms at his challenge.

“Okay.” I thought long and hard about a question that only either I or the ‘pharaoh’ himself would know.  “How exactly did your brother kill you?” yeah I know it was a dark question but it was all I could think of that was a difficult question.  Some scholars have even debated on Ahkmenrah’s death but I alone knew the truth after getting some good research done.

“It was sunset. I had just gotten through with wanting the Jews of Egypt to have free will among my kingdom when my brother called me into the studies to speak about the new law. At first I thought we’d go into another argument about it, but he wanted to drink a celebratory toast in light of the new law. I thought nothing of it so my brother and I drank the wine he had prepared. After the toast, I felt this pain in my stomach and—my brother standing over me with nothing but a cruel smile on his face.”

Oh…….my…..god.  It—this was……Ahkmen—he…..Ohhhhhh shit!

“My pharaoh I—” I proceeded to bow before him but he stopped me and he said.

“Please no. There is no need for that.” Oh my god his hands were so warm on my cold ones.

“I—I can’t….I just can’t believe. Oh my god I’ve really fallen off the deep end haven’t I?”

“Told you I wasn’t crazy.” Mr. Daley spoke up.

“Okay, okay I believe you. So where is Cecil at right now?”

“Last we saw him he was heading for Central Park.”

“Then why the hell did you come here for!? Central Park from here is halfway across town compared to the museum! We’ll never catch him on foot.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” He then whistled and soon a horse came charging in and stopped right in front of us.

“Uhh Larry I hate to break it to you but we all can’t fit on one horse.”

“Oh I know this is my ride, your ride is Rexy.” I soon heard the thundering footsteps and soon following behind a toy truck was the giant T-Rex that you first see when you walk into the museum. It let out a roar and my mouth just dropped.

“You finally get your Jurassic Park wish huh (y/n)?” Nicky said to me with a wide smile.

“I—I suppose so.” The truck stopped right by us and I took notice of the two small miniatures inside that were inside.  The Roman General Octavius and the cowboy Jedidiah.

“We ready to get this rodeo on the show now gigantor?” said Jedidiah.

“Yeah guys. So you remember the plan right? You all round Cecil off and I’ll follow behind him.”

“We’re on it my liege. Everyone hop on. The enemy must not escape our sights!” Octavius proclaimed.  Larry and Attila got on top of the horse and the two of them rode off while Nicky, Ahkmenrah and I got on top of Rexy.  Ahkmenrah got on first and he held his hand out to me.

I took it and he helped me mount onto the T-Rex. My back was pressed up against his chest and our noses almost touching each other’s.

“Thank you.” I softly whispered in awe.

“I didn’t want you to get hurt. It’s—very different from mounting a horse.” I nodded as I couldn’t take my eyes off of him.

“Shall I leave you two alone to get a room?” Nicky sassed out.

“Oh you little twerp just get on.” He grinned smugly as he came up and I told him to be careful as he came and sat in front of me. “K guys we’re ready!” Nicky told the two miniatures suddenly Rexy lunged forward and soon we were running full speed towards Central Park.

Within 10-20 minutes we arrived at Central Park and on the other side through the trees I saw Cecil riding on top of the money carrier horse and coach.

Rexy soon began to run faster which forced me to lean further up against Ahkmenrah.  We looked at each other and smiled at each other as I felt him hold onto my waist tighter so that we wouldn’t fall off.  Rexy then suddenly took a sharp left and we were now right in front of Cecil’s path.

But then Cecil took a sharp turn right past us just barely missing Rexy’s leg by a few inches.  It was then I saw the horrifying sight of the truck that Jedidiah and Octavius were riding in spin out of control until it flipped over a small foot of snow before exploding.

With no bone to follow, Rexy soon stopped and whined and we all looked in the direction where the two miniatures had disappeared to.  I saw that Larry had stopped just ahead of us and he was looking right where Jed and Octavius had fallen.

“Rexy let me down boy.” He lowered himself down so that I could get off of him.

“Where are you going?” asked Nicky.

“I’m gonna help your dad end this. Ahkmenrah, can you keep an eye on Nicky?”

“Yes of course.”

“Nicky, stay with him alright?” I told him in my sitter voice and he knew to never go up against me when I used that voice.  I hopped off and raced towards Mr. Daley. “Larry!” he turned to me and I said. “I’ve got a plan, but I need you to do exactly what I tell you.” he nodded.

“Hop on.” I got on the back of the horse as Larry said, “C’mon Tex let’s finish this. HIYAH!” soon we took off racing after Cecil.

“Stay close to the back of the coach, I’m gonna try to hop on it and grab the tablet.”

“Are you crazy!?”

“Yeah well it’s been a crazy night. So just do it!” he urged Tex on and soon we were right up on the stagecoach.  I reached out as far as I could and missed it a few times before finally getting a grip onto it.  Once I pulled myself up, I nodded to him telling him to get Cecil’s attention while I went for the tablet.

“Give me the tablet Cecil!” Larry cried out.

“Can’t do it, son!” the horses whinnied as they ran faster and I slowly crawled up towards Cecil’s back where I could see the glimmer’s of the golden Egyptian tablet.

“Pull over!”

“It ain’t gonna happen. Moving on!”

“Last chance Cecil! Stop the horses or I will!”

“They can’t be stopped, Larry. Don’t you know your history? These are money carriers. They were trained not to stop for anything but a secret word.” I finally grabbed the tablet and pulled it out of the bag as I said.

“You don’t say?” It was then Cecil turned and saw me with the table. “You mean a word like—”

“DAKOTA!” Larry cried out.  I then held onto the roof railings of the stage coach as the horses suddenly stopped and Cecil went flying forwards into the snow.  As Larry rode up towards Cecil, I got off the stage coach and followed right behind Larry.  “Read up on my history, along with a little help from a friend.” Larry said as he turned towards me.

“And by the way. Consider yourself out of my dissertation paper.” I told Cecil.

“And also, never talk to me like that in front of my son.” He then grabbed Cecil and threw his famed words back at him, “Moving on.”

We soon met up back at the stagecoach where Ahkmenrah, Nicky, and Atilla and his Huns came in.

“Oh hey, Huns.” Cecil said nervously as Larry transferred him over to them.

“Tell Atilla to have his boys take him back to the museum, put him back with the rest of the guards.” Larry told Ahkmenrah who then translated it to Attila in his tone. “Oh and uhh no limb ripping, okay?” Larry told Attila.

Attila tried to reason with Larry but he shook his head saying no.  That’s when Attila pinched his fingers with a little bit of space between them as he asked Larry.

“Mikaka?” Larry turned to Cecil for a moment before turning back to Attila doing the same thing as he responded.

“Makeekaka.” Hearing that made Attila and his friends very happy as Attila then proclaimed out to his Huns.

“Hey, w-wait. Hold the phone. What’s Makeekaka mean? Wait, translation please?” he asked Ahkmenrah as the Huns picked him up and carried him back to the museum.

“That’ll teach him to steal from the museum.” I bragged. “Not bad Mr. Daley. That was impressive.”

“Hey, couldn’t have done it without those websites you sent me to help me out with the research. You’re the real hero here tonight (y/n).”

“Yeah, and that was so awesome of how you got onto that stagecoach. You were like a superhero back there.” I blushed at Nicky’s praising.

“They are right (y/n).” Ahkmenrah said.  “We owe this night to you, thanks to you I once again have my tablet.” I smiled and said.

“It took all of us. Teamwork is what got this back.” I said as I held up the tablet.

“Oh boy.” I heard Larry say grimly.

“What is it?” asked Ahkmenrah.

“I gotta get you guys back to the museum.” He said urgently.

“Why? What happens if they’re not back at the museum? Well besides it being empty.”

“If the exhibits are outside of the museum when the sun comes up, they turn to dust.” He told me.  My eyes widened in fear as I turned to Ahkmenrah and he looked at me with a grim expression that expressed the truth.

“How?” asked Nicky as I turned to see half of the museum already here in Central Park.

“It’s gonna take us hours just to wrangle everyone up. And this isn’t even half of the exhibits we need.”

“Ahkmenrah. We’re gonna need your help.” Larry guided me over to the young pharaoh as he continued, “This is your tablet, you know the instructions. We need you to get everyone back.” I handed him his tablet and he took it from my hands.

As we did the transfer, our fingers briefly touched one another’s and I swear to god I thought I felt a spark.   I swallowed my little crush (was it a crush? I don’t know) and nodded to him and that’s when Ahkmenrah began to speak in ancient Egyptian as he looked down at the tablet.

As soon as I heard him say his name, the tablet glowed which reflected his face majestically, but that’s when I heard Rexy softly growl as he then began walking back towards the museum.  Not only was he walking onward but all the exhibits, it seemed they were all in a trance as they walked on.

With that the four of us left alongside the exhibits and we went to make sure that everyone got back there and to their designated wings safe and sound.

Once everyone was inside, present and accounted for; I walked with Ahkmenrah back to his tomb and he said to me.

“Thank you, for helping me retrieve my tablet (y/n).”

“It was no problem. Really. I’d do it all over again a thousand times if it meant you and the others could live to see another night.” He smiled and as he placed it back to its proper place he asked me.

“Will I see you tonight?”

“Oh I don’t know.” I sighed heavily.  “I can’t let Larry just get the boot for this, at least not if I can help it.”

“You have a kind heart (y/n). In another life you would’ve made the perfect Egyptian Queen.”  I blushed and laughed shyly. “If that is the case, then it was an honor to finally meet you (y/n).”

“Believe me it was an honor meeting you. I just…wish we had more time. I have so many questions for you.” He smiled and said.

“If the Gods make it to be, perhaps one day we shall cross paths again.” I nodded as I extended my hand out for a handshake. He took it and instead of a handshake, he turned my hand over and kissed the back of it.

I felt my face heat up and butterflies fluttered around my stomach as I nervously smiled.

“Yeah, you too Ahkmenrah.” I then helped him back into his sarcophagus and once I closed it up, I heard nothing but silence.  I turned to the Anubis guards who now stood very still and figured that it must be sunrise about now.  “Wadaeaan ya fireawn. Num jayidaan.” I whispered as I gently touched Akhmen’s sarcophagus.

I left the Egyptian wing and saw that all the exhibits were now once again either statues once more or had phased back into their wax figurines.  I walked down the steps to see the large mess once again.

“You got him back to his wing safely?” asked Larry.

“Yep. Safe and snug in his sarcophagus. C’mon. Let’s clean up whatever we can before McFreak comes in and flips out.”

“(Y/n).” Rebecca scolded me.  I shrugged at her as I picked up a broom from the supply closet nearby and handed one to Nicky and the two of us began to collect all the toilet paper that had been tossed around.

When Dr. McPhee did come in, he was definitely not happy.  After having Larry and I sit through the news that was talking about all the sightings that had happened last night from Rexy’s footprints in the snow, caveman drawings in the subway and even the Neanderthals up on top of the museum building waving torches in the air.

“Any explanation at all?” he asked the two of us. Larry thought about it before he came to a fake conclusion.

“No. Got nothin’.”

“Me neither.” I answered.

“Right. I’ll take your keys and your flashlight then.” He said as he walked up to Larry before turning towards me and continuing, “And you. Can turn in your membership and research card. You’ll be banned from the museum until further notice.” Larry and I looked at each other before Larry turned in his stuff and I turned in my access card.

He guided us out of his office to let us out of the museum but what we saw was something I had not seen since I was probably a little girl.  

The museum was packed! There were probably hundreds maybe even thousands of people walking about, getting tours, checking in, and asking for information about certain figurines or exhibits.

A wide smile spread across my face as I placed my hands over my mouth trying to contain my excitement.  But what really got me excited was when Dr. McPhee gave Larry and I back our stuff and gave us a small smile before walking away.

“Oh my god.” I said in awe.

“Seems the news really brought this place back on the map.” Larry said.  I then hugged Larry as tight as I could and he hugged me back. “What’s that for?”

“I have no idea. Just—thank you for probably the greatest moment of my life.”

“You sure it don’t have anything to do with the pharaoh just one floor up?” he teased.  I playfully punched him as hard as I could in the shoulder.

“I’ll see you tonight Mr. Daley. I’ll even pick up Nicky and bring him here.” I headed off to start my shift since I knew the tour guides needed more help so I decided to lend a hand and help out.

Of course that was fun and all, but the real fun began when the sun went down.  With my I-pod hooked up to the stereo on my “Happy feet playlist”, I had my #1 song ‘September’ by Earth, wind and fire playing while all the exhibits were gathered around the main lobby in celebration.

Everyone was either dancing or playing soccer and I couldn’t help but smile at seeing a once ancient pharaoh dance so badly that it was almost embarrassing.  Our eyes soon locked with each other and he came over to me and said.

“Come on, let’s dance.”

“Oh no, no, no, no, no I don’t dance Ahkmenrah.”

“This is our party and I demand you dance. By royal decree.” He teased at the end with a wink down at me.  Well—who was I to deny a royal pharaoh’s decree?

“Just a little warning for you, I don’t know how to dance.”

“Neither do I.”

“So you’re not at all embarrassed?”

“Not really. We’re amongst friends. And true friends don’t laugh at one another, even in their silly moments. Now come (y/n).” he took my hands and pulled me onto the dance floor and the two of us danced to the beat as silly as we possibly could.

[jessethorn]

Some Los Angeles Tips

People are always asking me what they should do when they visit LA. I am by no means the greatest LA expert on earth, but I’ve lived here more than a decade now, and I have some ideas for you. Note that I live in the far Northeast corner of LA, and really rarely travel to the western half of town. So if you are looking for advice on Beverly Hills stuff or Malibu stuff or whatever, I am not that helpful. Also this is very subjective and really non-comprehensive in general. Just some stuff I like!

In General

Rent a car if you drive, but don't be afraid to take the bus or subway. There are some very long distances to traverse, and not everything is convenient to transit, but the transit is reasonably comfortable and efficient for a lot of purposes (going downtown, for example), particularly when combined with some judicious ride-sharing. There's plenty of parking everywhere, despite what Angelenos would have you think. Don't try to do too many things in one day, or cross town on the 10, 101 or 405 at anything even resembling rush hour (ie between like seven and ten thirty or three and seven on weekdays). Stick to one area for the day, maybe two.

The Museum of Jurassic Technology This is the best thing in Los Angeles and one of the best things in the world. It is part museum, part art project. To explain it much further might ruin the experience of visiting it, but please take my word that it is one of the most amazing places in the world.

The Watts Towers As the name suggests, they're in Watts, a bit out of the way for some trips, but absolutely without a doubt worth the travel. They're an incredible artwork/building built in a backyard out of rebar, concrete, glass and tile by an illiterate Italian immigrant in the mid-20th century. Worth signing up for a tour, they are cheap (it's a city park) and not all that long. There's also a little gallery on the site. One of the great works of American outsider art and a deeply beloved city treasure.

Other, More Regular Museums LACMA is a world-class art museum. The collection is a bit scattered (and as of this writing a wing is closed for renovation and replacement), but it's really good. It's in Mid-City on the Miracle Mile, and surrounded by other museums. The Petersen Automotive Museum is pretty cool if you're into cars. La Brea Tar Pits are more park than museum, but the museum is fun in a kitschy way, if you're into prehistoric creatures. It's also a nice place to eat lunch. In Exposition Park are a few major museums - the Natural History Museum is pretty good, though not better than others in other major cities (the Field Museum or whatever). The science museum is OK but significantly outclassed by the competition (it's no Exploratorium), though it does have a real space shuttle, which is pretty sweet. The Annenberg Space for Photography does what it says on the label. A good mid-size museum of photographs, check what show is up. The Broad is a nice contemporary art museum in a beautiful building that's right near Walt Disney Concert Hall, also an incredible building. They have a second campus in Little Tokyo that's very nice but smaller.

Architectural Stuff The LA Conservancy runs affordable walking tours that take you into some of the most fascinating built environments in LA. The subject matter ranges from Art Deco in downtown to the modern skyscrapers of the 50s through 90s. They're mostly Saturdays, but a few also run on weekdays. Can't recommend them enough if you're up for a couple hours of walking. You can go inside the Bradbury Building and up into the upper floors! It's cool. (The Conservancy also runs screenings in the big movie palaces downtown, which are mostly otherwise closed to the public. Definitely recommend those.) A couple of other architectural highlights: the Hollyhock House is in Barnsdall Park in Los Feliz. It's a restored Frank Lloyd Wright estate willed to the city many years ago that as of relatively recently runs regular tours. Also in the park is the city art museum of LA, which sometimes has some cool shows. Cal Poly Pomona students run tours on Saturdays of the Neutra VDL studio and residences in Silver Lake, which can be combined with a nice walk around the lake and some middle-aged-hipster watching. The Gamble House in Pasadena is an absolutely breathtaking craftsman mansion with a lot of

Griffith Park Griffith Park is one of the largest urban parks in the United States. It has all kinds of stuff within it - the LA Zoo, the Griffith Observatory, some great hiking. It's a great place to spend some time. If you have little kids, they will love Travel Town, a train graveyard/museum that's inside the park (and free!). The zoo is good if you like zoos, though not incredibly great or anything. The Autry Museum of the American West is worth a visit if you're into that kind of thing.

The Grove I know that we talk about The Grove a lot on Jordan, Jesse, Go. Please do not waste your vacation time at the Grove. It's a mall. It's fine. This also applies to the Americana at Brand, which we sometimes talk about because we have talked about the Grove too much. Also a mall. A little nicer than some? I went there when I needed a new power cable for my Surface.

Dodger Stadium Look, I am a Giants fan and hate the Dodgers, but if you are a baseball fan, Dodger Stadium is a great place to watch a baseball game. Even I can admit that. Angel Stadium is about as generic as it gets, but if you go on a weekday you can take a train from Union Station in LA.

The Getty Center The Getty Center is a beautiful building on a breathtaking piece of real estate. It's pretty cool to visit, but be aware that most of the art is pretty early, so if you don't like busts or paintings of feasts and stuff from the bible, then it might not be your jam art-wise. And getting up there is a whole thing. That said: it really is a beautiful building and an incredible view, so you probably won't feel like it's a waste. And if you like busts, then get your ass over there.

Downtown Stuff I will again recommend the LA Conservancy's walking tours to get a flavor of downtown LA, which is very walkable and full of incredible stuff. The main library is a beautiful edifice, the history of which is detailed in Susan Orlean's The Library Book. Worth wandering around in. Grand Central Market is a great place to get a bite, though pretty bougie at this point. Right next to Grand Central Market is Angel's Flight, a block-long funicular that is a lot of fun and costs next to nothing. Besides this, there are still functional specialized commercial districts in downtown LA. The flower district is particularly fun - the big flower market opens early for wholesale sales but is open to the public and there are tons of stores selling silk and artificial flowers which are very fun to wander through. There are also areas with stores specializing in selling imported toys, store fixtures (a favorite of mine), jewelry and fabric. Most of the fabric is kinda garbage honestly but there is a good tailor supply store called B. Black and Sons and a great hat making store (worth visiting even if you don't make hats) called California Millinery Supply. FIDM also has a thrift store with cheap fabric leftover from LA-based factories.

Movies The Arclight is a fancy movie chain, and the Hollywood location (near Amoeba Records) is also the home of the Cinerama Dome, which is pretty fun. The Vista is a great single-screen theater on the east side. There are some great rep houses on the west side - check your local listings.

Comedy Stuff The UCB has a few great shows every night at both locations. It's hard to go wrong, though you should be aware you will be seeing things that are a little rougher than whatever makes it to your town as a road show. The signature improv show is Asssscat, which is absolutely as good as it gets. Dynasty Typewriter (right by our office) has a lot of great shows these days. A great standup show is Hot Tub at the Virgil. The big comedy clubs have pretty comedy-club-y comedy in them, not necessarily what I'd recommend, though you will certainly see a lot of relatively big names doing sets. The Improv Lab sometimes has MaxFun-adjacent headliners who've put together their own lineups, as does Flappers in Burbank. Largo has bigger-name shows of this variety as well, and if you go see a show there headlined by a Sarah Silverman or Patton Oswalt, the lineup will likely be packed with their pals, even if they aren't advertised.

Some Places To Eat This is NOT a comprehensive list. First: Jonathan Gold died a few years ago, but he is still the king of LA food. Anything he recommended in the Weekly or Times is still the gold standard (no pun intended). He was also a wonderful writer and a champion of foodways that are unfamiliar to many in LA, much less outside LA. If you are a food nerd, KCRW's Good Food is a superb local food show (and podcast) produced by Nick Liao, who used to work at MaxFun.

Philipe's The French Dip A restaurant that's been around for literally a century, with sawdust on the floor, big jars of pickled eggs, ladies in hairnets and really tasty French Dips. They have competing claims to having invented them but the other competitor turned into one of those goofy sleeve-garter-barman subway tile exposed lightbulb places about ten years ago. Philipe's is totally for real and great.

Pie N Burger This is just a burger place in Pasadena that sells classic SoCal-style burgers and is really great. Cash only, though.

Langer's The only one of the Jewish delis in LA that's really worth a special trip. The #19 (pastrami, cole slaw and swiss on rye) is truly one of the world's greatest foods. Pastrami here is better than anywhere else I've ever eaten, including those famous delis in New York.

Park's BBQ 

One of many great Korean BBQ restaurants in LA, but the only one recommended to me personally by Jonathan Gold. (I also like Soot Bull Jeep, which barbeques over charcoal and will leave you smelling like smoke, and Hae Jang Chong for all-you-can-eat.) (There are LOTS of different kinds of Korean food, but I am not an expert on the soups and blood sausages and bibimbaps and etc., but if you're adventurous, you could eat a different Korean food at a different spot every month in LA and make out well.)

Guelagetza Oaxacan food is one of the best kinds of food in the world, and Guelagetza is an LA institution that serves good-quality Oaxacan food. Moles, tlayudas, queso fundido. If you've never eaten any of this stuff, a couple of chicken moles are a great place to start (as is Guelagetza).

Dim Sum You can drive all the way to the San Gabriel Valley and eat at one of the many wonderful dim sum places there. That's where the best stuff is. If it's not worth a special trip to you, I like a place called Lunasia in Pasadena, and they also serve dim sum for dinner. Not a HUGE menu but good food.

Mozza This pizzeria, now a sort of group of restaurants, is an unimpeachably excellent Fancy Meal in LA. So (per my producer Kevin) are the other restaurants run by the same chef, Nancy Silverton.

The Dal Rae This is an old-timey fancy restaurant in Pico Rivera, a semi-industrial part of LA. It's just a great place to wear a suit to and eat Clams Casino. Famous for their table-made Caesar salad (legit great) and pepper steak (too peppery for me). Generally the food is excellent in a 1955 sort of way.

Bludsoe's Best Texas-style barbeque I've had outside of Texas. Used to be a window down by the airport, now a fancier place on La Brea, but I'm told the food is just as good at the fancy place.

Pupusas I love to eat pupusas. Maybe my favorite food. I really like to eat pupusas at Los Molcajetes on Hoover in Westlake (near Koreatown). Note they are weirdly big here (a regional variation of some kind) and they only take cash. (Note also this is one of 10,000 restaurants in LA named Los Molcajetes.)  I also sometimes eat at a nice sit-down Salvadoran place called Las Cazuelas on Figueroa in Highland Park.

In N Out In N Out is good! It will not change your life! But it is very tasty, especially for a $4 food! Some people complain about the fries, which are fresh-cut and fried only once and thus are less crispy on the outside and fluffy on the inside than some others! I think they are fine! Try In N Out, why not! But maybe don't make a whole special trip to do so!

Tacos and Other SoCal Mexican Food Stuff Everyone has their own favorite taco places, and none of my favorites are so special they should be destinations. They are mostly my favorites because they are close to my home and work. But I can tell you that I like to get sit-down Mexican-American food at La Abeja on Figueroa in LA, where I eat a lot of carne adovada and enchiladas and sometimes albondigas or breakfast. I also really like to eat carne en su jugo at Carnes Asadas Pancho Lopez on Pasadena in Lincoln Heights. I eat tacos from Tacos La Estrella on York in Highland Park or the truck (with no name) across from the Mexican consulate on Park View at sixth in Westlake. At night I sometimes get cheap tacos (I like buche) from the place that opens up on Pasadena at Avenue 37. I like the shrimp and fish tacos at Via-Mar on Figueroa. I like Huaraches from Huaraches Azteca on York. The burritos at Yuca’s in Los Feliz (or Pasadena) are great, though they are totally different from the SF-style burritos that I grew up eating. I sometimes get nachos at Carnitas Michoacan on Broadway in Lincoln Heights, which feature meat and cheese sauce and are gross but also really, really good.  I have also eaten at the very fancy Mexican restaurant Border Grill and to be honest it is really good even though the interior feels a little like a cross between a fancy restaurant in 1989 and a Chili's.

El Coyote This is a famous Mexican-American restaurant from the early part of the 20th century, but you shouldn't go there because the food sucks.

Stores I Like This is going to be REAL subjective, but a few stores I like which sell the kinda stuff you'd expect me to want. &etc - A great (small) antique store at 1913 Fremont in Pasadena. The Last Bookstore - A downtown bookstore that is the closest thing to a "destination" book store in LA. Good selection and reasonable prices on used books, and a nice art book room. (Records as well, but they're not very good.) Gimme Gimme Records - I like this record store in Highland Park. You'll pay retail here, but reasonable retail, and the selection (while not immense) is really excellent. Good stuff in all genres.

Secret Headquarters - One time at this small comics store in Silver Lake the lady at the counter asked if I was Jesse from Jordan Jesse Go and they won my business forever in that moment. Don Ville - My friend Raul makes and sells shoes (and repairs them!) in the northern part of Koreatown. If you have the dough, get him to make you some shoes! The Bloke - A really great little menswear store in Pasadena. Sells cool (expensive) trad-ish brands like Drake's and Hilditch & Key and Alden. The Good Liver - A beautiful shop in Little Tokyo specializing in perfect home goods. The perfect scissors, the perfect dish towel and so forth. Some things are expensive, some aren't. H Lorenzo Archive - The "outlet" shop of a designer clothing store on the west side. Discounts aren't huge, but the selection is really interesting, and they have a good collection of one of my favorite brands, Kapital. Sid Mashburn - Excellent classic clothing shop on the west side. Suit Supply & Uniqlo - if you haven't got these where you live, they're the places I usually send people for reasonably-priced tailored clothes (Suit Supply) and cheap basics (Uniqlo). Olvera Street - This is an old-timey tourist attraction, a street of folks selling Mexican handcrafts (and their Chinese-made analogs). Right near Union Station and Philipe's, and a great place to buy factory-made huaraches (the shoes, not the food). They even have sizes big enough for me, which is pretty much impossible to find in Mexico or most Mexican-American shoe stores. Thrift Stores - I go to a lot of thrift stores but if I told you which ones you might buy something I would have bought so I'm not going to tell you which thrift stores.

Flea Markets You may know I am at the flea market every weekend. The good fleas are on Sundays, and there's one every week. First Sunday of the month is Pasadena City College, a big (and free) market with pretty reasonable pricing. PCC has a pretty big record section in addition to the regular flea market stuff. Second weekend is the famous Rose Bowl flea, which is HUGE and has a big new goods section (blech) and vintage clothing area (good!). Third weekend is Long Beach Airport, which is a great overall show. Fourth is Santa Monica airport, which is smaller and a little fancier but very nice. The Valley flea is also fourth Sundays, at Pierce College, and that's not huge but sometimes surprises me. With all of these, the earlier you can arrive, the better you'll do (not least for weather reasons). I usually try to get there around 7:30 or 8:00. The Rose Bowl in particularl is a 4-6 hour operation if you do most of it. There are also a lot of swap meets - I don't know enought to recommend any in particular, but these are much more about tube socks and batteries and bootleg movies than antiques and collectibles. Still can be fun, though, and are certainly a proud SoCal tradition. (The Silverlake Flea and the Melrose Trading Post are garbage, don't go there.)

Going to the Beach I'm not a huge beach goer, but by all means go to the beach if that's your thing. The Annenberg Community Beach House in Santa Monica is a great place to base your operation, though you have to arrive in the morning on busy days to get a parking spot.

Kid Stuff I mentioned Travel Town, that's pretty great. Kidspace in Pasadena is a very good children's museum. The Bob Baker Marionette Theater is a great place to see a marionette show straight out of 1966. There's a good aquarium in Long Beach though it's a bit nutty there on weekends, and the zoo in Griffith Park is a good zoo. I really like Descanso Gardens, a big botanical garden northeast of LA. Huntington Gardens is also very nice, though it's much more expensive and hotter.

Geography Los Angeles is BIG. I'd say try to spend each of your days within about a sixth of it, geographically. It's entirely possible to do west side and east side stuff on the same trip, but don't try to do them on the same day. Look at a map and look at driving times when you're planning. Neighborhoods in LA are BIG, geographically speaking, don't assume two things in the same neighborhood are an easy walk. There aren't a ton of urban neighborhoods suitable for wandering in the way there are in some places. A few manageable general areas for stuff you might like: Silverlake/Los Feliz/Echo Park, Koreatown, Highland Park, downtown, Little Tokyo and the Arts District. (I live in the northeast part of town, and don't spend much time on the west side, which is one reason why this list focuses more on east side stuff. Some folks like West Hollywood and Venice on the west side. Long Beach and Pasadena are both neat towns with their own thing going on that might be worth a visit, too.)

Books & Media The Great Los Angeles Book is probably City of Quartz, a socialist-leaning history of LA. I really loved Susan Orlean's The Library Book, which is about the library as an institution, but also specifically the LA central library and the mysterious fire that nearly destroyed it. And a wild guy named Charles Lummis who was one of the founding fathers of LA culture and was really something else. (You can visit his house - it's right off the 110 near Highland Park.) An LA movie I love is The Long Goodbye, which is sort of a predecessor/inspiration for The Big Lebowski. A shaggy mystery directed by Altman where Elliott Gould just sort of wanders around LA. Another really cool one is Los Angeles Plays Itself, a long (long!) film essay about the ways the real Los Angeles has been used to create fictional worlds in film over the decades.

TV Tapings I'm not an expert in TV tapings. I can say that I've been to a few Conan tapings, and while it takes a LOOOOONG time to get in there, the show is fun to watch live. This is generally true of talk shows and most game shows, which tape more or less as-live. Sitcoms take WAY longer than you were expecting them to. Make sure to try to book tickets early if you have something you want to see. No matter what it's a most-of-the-day thing.

Nightlife Is a word that describes evening activities - especially dance clubs. I am old and don't know about these things.

The Magic Castle I can't get you in, please don't ask me to. I went a couple times. It's fine. If you're not into magic you're not missing too much. If you are, then obviously, it's a priority.

The Walk of Fame and Hollywood Not recommended, not worth it, don't bother.

Disneyland Why would you want my opinion about Disneyland? It's Disneyland. You're in or you're out.

San Diego If you happen to plan a side trip to San Diego, you can take the Amtrak there, and it is a breathtakingly beautiful and exceedingly pleasant trip. I have no San Diego expertise to impart beyond that, however.

[avengerscompound]

The Number of Dates

The Number of Dates - A Captain America Fanfic

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Word Count:  3173

Warnings:  Smut (M|F, Virgin reader, Loss of Virginity, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex).

Synopsis:   You’re dating Steve Rogers. You want to take it slow but after a while, the fact he has no problem with that starts to worry you.

The Number of Dates

Three.  That’s the number of dates it took before Steve Rogers first kissed you.  Proper dates too.  Not just being invited to hang out with his friends or to Netflix and Chill.  

The first date was dinner at a small, cute restaurant.  Casual enough to feel comfortable.  Nice enough to feel special.  After, you’d gone for a walk through Central Park and just talked for hours.  You talked about where you both grew up.  Your bests friends when you were kids.  What your parents did.  Your favorite foods.  What you wanted in the future.  It was small stuff and big stuff and some of it was really scary.  You weren’t scared though.  Not with him.

The second was going to be a trip to Coney Island, but he changed it at the last minute and went to the Natural History Museum instead.  You had held hands as you walked through the exhibit on the Pacific Islands.  In the halls of dinosaurs, you asked him if he recognized anyone.  He laughed sarcastically and put his arm around your waist.

The third was dinner again.  This time at a Jazz Club.  He’d worn a suit and seeing him in it had almost made you ditch the whole ‘waiting’ thing and take him out the back and fuck him hard against the wall.   You didn’t though.  Instead, you’d had dinner while he looked around nervously and couldn’t quite find the words he was trying to say.

You’d asked him if he wanted to dance and he’d accepted.  It had started awkwardly.  You weren’t a dancer, and nor did it seem was he.  It wasn’t long though before he was spinning you around the floor like he’d had professional lessons.

That night he’d walked you to the door like he always did and he’d asked.  He didn’t just lean and kiss you.  He’d held your hand and looked down at you and said, “I’d really like to kiss you now.”   So you did.  It was lingering and sweet.  His lips caressed yours, but he didn’t use his tongue.   You could feel that spark that often led to men shoving their tongues down your throat and push their hands up your skirt.  Not Steve though.  He held one hand in the middle of your back and the other went to your jaw.  When he pulled back your head felt foggy and your body felt warm.  Then he’d said goodnight and you went inside alone.

Seven.  That’s the number of dates before he had come inside.  Well, that wasn’t technically correct.  He’d asked if he could cook for you.  He’d come to your place because he lived with the Avengers and he didn’t want them interfering on the date.  You felt safe with Steve so you’d accepted.

Turned out he was a decent cook.  Not brilliant.  Just decent.  He made as simple spaghetti marinara, but he’d made it from scratch.  It wasn’t the best you’d ever had, but it was good.  More than how it tasted you enjoyed being in the kitchen with him and helping him cut vegetables and strain pasta.  It felt domestic and natural.  You could imagine living with him and sharing the chores.

After dinner, you’d sat on the couch and made out.  It was the first time you’d felt the touch of his tongue against yours.  His hands never strayed.  One stayed on your waist and the other clenched and released in your hair.  You slid yours up and down his back.  For the first time feeling defined muscles under your palm.  The way they flexed as he moved against you.  Each time they tightened under you, you’d whimper a little into his mouth.

Nine.  That was was the number of dates it took before his hands started to stray.  You were on your couch.  His hand had slid up under your shirt and cupped your breast.  You’d pushed it away and that was it.  He didn’t try again that night.

Thirteen.  That was the number of dates before you hadn’t stopped him. You’d let him squeeze them and pinch your nipples.  You’d let him lie you back on the couch and roll his hips against yours.  You’re not sure but if he had tried to have sex with you that night you, you might have said yes.  You want to believe that you would have stuck by your convictions.  That you would wait until you were sure he was the one.  Only you had started to think he probably was.  He was so good and sweet.  He had this funny, sassy side that you hadn’t expected at all.  Mostly though, the way he felt against you.  His weight, and the press of his cock.  The way his lips fitted against yours.  The way your nipples hardened as he played with them.  It made you wet and needy.

Seventeen.  That was the number of dates before he told you he loved you.  It had happened in such a natural way.  He’d taken you out to Coney Island.  Even though you had fun he seemed a little melancholy.  You’d challenged him to one of those games where you had to shoot a target with water and the one who was the most accurate for longest won the prize.

You’d won, but you were sure he’d let you.  So you oversold it.  Taunting him.  Being smug.  Doing a victory dance.  He pulled you into his arms and kissed you hard.  When he pulled back he just said it.  “I love you.”  Just like that.  You cupped his jaw and looked up into those soft blue eye of his.   “I love you too.”  And you did.  This was it.  He was the one.

Twenty-three.  That’s how many dates before you started to think that there was something wrong with you.  That maybe he didn’t want to have sex with you.  No one from your past had ever gone this many dates, well at all.  But definitely not that many without trying to get into your pants.  Why hadn’t Steve tried to have sex with you?

Twenty-six.  That’s how many dates it was before you confront him.

You’re making out.  Your hands under each other’s shirt.  Your skin tingles and a shiver runs through you each place his fingertips touch.  You have yours on his chest and you runs your nails down his abs.  He pulls away and sits up tucking his shirt back in.  For a second you just lay there blinking up at him.

“I should go.”  He says.  He’s slightly breathless.  You sit up and pull your knees up to your chest.

You frown and look at your hands.  “Steve,”  You say, unable to look him in the eye.  “Why don’t you want to have sex with me?”

Steve startles and blinks down at you.  “I do want to.”

You look up at him, brow furrowed.  “Then why do you always leave when we start getting all hot and heavy you say you’ve got to go?”

He laughs and shakes his head.   “I thought you must have wanted to wait until marriage.”

“Why would you think that?”  You ask, obviously perplexed.

Steve shrugs.  “Most women I’ve dated since I came outta the ice just … well…”  He shakes his head.  “They make it very clear when they’re ready.  Which is often within the first few dates.  You’ve been the opposite.  So I just assumed that’s what you must want.  I’m sorry.  I do.  I really want to.”

“Guys are usually always like that with me too.”  You laugh.  “Shit.  Sorry, Steve.”

He takes your hand in his and runs his other hand over the back of his head.  “I guess this is one of those reasons everyone tells you to communicate in relationships.”

You feel stupid and you play with his fingers.  “I guess so.  I should have said. I should have told you why I was taking so long.”

Steve tilts your face up to his.  “So tell me now.”

You take a deep breath.  He’s been here this long, you feel safe with him.  It’s now or never.  “I’m a virgin.  I just needed to be sure.”

Steve just nods.  You had expected him to flinch or something.  He just nods like that was no big deal.  “That’s okay.  I like to be sure too.”

“Are you one too?”  You ask, wondering if that meant he’d be waiting for the right person too.

Steve shakes his head.  “No.  I just don’t like rushing.  I like a deeper connection.”  He brings your fingers to his lips.  “I feel it with you.”

“I feel it too.  I want you to be the one, Steve.”  You say.

He leans into you and you kiss deeply.  You wrap your arms around his neck.  “Please fuck me, Steve.”

“Shall we go to the bedroom?”  Steve asks, pulling back from you.

You nod and get up, taking his hand and leading him towards your room. You start internally freaking out.  This was happening.  What if it hurt?  What if you hated it?  What if after he looked at you differently and didn’t want to see you anymore?

“There’s something you should know,”  Steve says, as you walk towards the bedroom.  You step through the door, your mind racing. He turns you to face him.  “I’m large.  Very, large.  The serum changed all of me.  The women I’ve been within the past… they found it intimidating.  If this is your first time, I’m worried it will hurt.”

You look up at him and swallow hard.  That piece of information didn’t help at all.  Now you weren’t sure what to do.  You loved him.  You knew that.  He was the one.

“I’ll go slow.”  He assures you.  He leans in and kisses you and all your concerns go out the window.  You just want this.  Here.  Now.  With him.

He pulls your shirt up over your head and as he walks you back towards the bed, kissing you urgently.  You unbutton his shirt and he shucks it off throwing it with yours.  Your legs bang into your bed and he slides his hands up your back and unhooks your bra.  You slide it off and he stands back and looks at you.  You size him up too.  He is like a work of art.  Well, science you suppose.  Large, defined muscles.  Smooth skin.  You reach out and run your fingers down his abdominals and marvel at the way they contract in reaction to your touch.

As you touch him he cups your breast and runs his thumb over your nipple.  It hardens and he runs his tongue over his bottom lip.  “You’re really beautiful.”  He breathes.

“So are you.”  You reply.

You start kissing again.  This time more frantically.  He guides you back on the bed and pulls your skirt off, and then your panties.  You feel shy, but the way he looks gives you butterflies.  It’s all lust and need.  His tan slacks are tented and he unfastens his belt and lowers them.  When he finally removes his boxers you see exactly what he means.

His cock is enormous.  It stands up hard against him.  He runs his palm up his length and when he does you see it reaches just past his belly button.  It’s also thick.  Like you don’t think your fingers would touch when wrapped around it thick.  You look at him alarmed.

“It’s okay.  I’ll go slow.  I’ll stop if you need me to.”  He says.  You nod and crawl back up the mattress.

He positions himself above you and you start to kiss.  Your hands roam but his seem to be on a mission.  His left hand slowly moves down your body.  He massages your breast again before stroking over your stomach and moving between your legs.  You gasp when he touches your pussy and he waits until you relax before his fingers slip between your folds.  

He keeps his eyes locked with yours as he strokes you.  He strokes broad, smearing your fluids over your labia.  Letting you get used to his fingers on your most intimate places. Gradually the brief touches on your clit become more regularly and soon he’s focusing just on that.  Circling over it and rubbing his finger back and forth.  You moan and start to take short sharp breaths through your teeth in an attempt to keep control.

“You like that, sweetheart?”  He asks.

You whimper and nod your head.

“Then don’t hold back.  Let it happen.”  He whispers.

You relax and give yourself to the feeling.  Your cunt tingles and that tingling spreads out through you.  You feel soft around the edges and your head starts feeling fuzzy.  You start to pant and Steve starts kissing your throat.  He sucks on the patch of skin just below your jaw.  You close your eyes and throw your head back.  You’ve gotten yourself off before, but this is new.  Steve doesn’t know your own body like you do, but his fingers are firm and large and he pays close attention to you.

You start to pant.  Warmth and pressure build inside you and swirls in your stomach.  “Oh god, Steve.  Yes.  Please.”  You cry.

“That’s it, darlin’.”   He purrs.  “You gonna come for me?”

“Oh god, yes.”  You whimper.  He pinches your clit and you come.  It crashes through you making your legs tremble.  He brings his head back up and watches your face contort in pleasure.  A half smile on his lips.

He doesn’t give you a chance to come down.  You’re body is still trembling with the last waves of your orgasm when he pushes a finger inside of you.  You moan and arch up as he swirls it inside of you.  He gently adds a second.  There’s a slight burn at the stretch.  “Is that okay?”  He asks.

“Mm-hmm.”  You hum, and he starts slowly fucking you with them.  Moving them in and out and stroking them over your internal walls.  As you relax and your fluids are drawn out of you, running down onto the bed, he twists his hand and spreads his fingers.

You moan loudly and buck your hips under him.

“You look so beautiful when you let yourself go.”  He hums.

You open your eyes and see him just gazing down on you.

“How does that feel?”  He asks.

You look into his blue eyes, looking down lovingly at you.  “So good.”  You moan.  His attention makes you feel more confident and you wrap your hand around his cock and start stroking it up and down his immense length.  He moans and grinds his hips in time with your strokes.

You feel the press of a third finger and he slowly adds it to the other.  The burn has returned.  You hiss and he slows down, gently coaxing you until you relax and it starts feeling good.  He repeats the process.  Moving his fingers in and out.  Stroking them inside you.  Stretching you.  This time he spends longer stroking his fingers inside you.  He pushes them in deep and seems to touch on different places.  He tilts his head to the side and watching you intently.  He hits your g-spot and you cry out suddenly.

Steve smirks.  “That’s what I was looking for.”

He works his fingers over that spot and you soon find yourself completely coming apart.  The sounds you make don’t even sound human, let alone sounds you’d normally make.  When you come it is the most intense orgasm you have ever had in your entire life.  You gush over his hand and he stretches his fingers one last time before taking his hand away.

Steve kisses you softly.  “How are you doing?”

“Holy shit.  Holy shit, Steve.”  You pant.  “I didn’t know… I’ve had orgasms before but … Holy shit.”

Steve smirks.  The look on his face is so smug you punch him in the arm.

“What I did then, I spread my fingers this far.”  He holds up his hand and shows you.  “Was that okay?”

“It was a little uncomfortable at first but once I adjusted it felt good.”  You pant.

“I shouldn’t be bigger than that.  You wanna try still?”

You nod and he sits up reaching for his pants. He pulls out his wallet and removes a condom.  He tears the packet open and sheathes himself, moving back between your legs.

He takes your hand and puts it on his dick, wrapping your fingers around his girth.  “Guide me in.  When I’m as deep as you can comfortably take me, then stop.  You’re in control.”

You do as instructed.  Guiding his thick cock into your cunt.  His preparation work has helped, but this is still a new and alien sensation.  He stretches you out, and it burns as he pushes in.  You whimper and he pauses, letting you adjust.  He starts to kiss your throat and play with your breasts.  You hum in pleasure and he starts pushing in again.  You hit the wall where pleasure becomes pain.  “There.”  You say.

Steve nods and brings his lips to yours as he starts to thrust.  He begins slow.  Just letting you get used to the feeling of him inside of you.  He does feel good. You feel full and pleasant.  The weight of his body on yours just adds a little more to your enjoyment.   As you start to hum and let out soft moans, he increases his pace.

Soon you both become lost in the moment.  Your movements become frantic.  You’re both kissing and groping at each other.  You dig your fingers into the muscles of Steve’s back.  He rolls you over and you ride him for a while, letting his cock in deeper than before.  His fingers return to your now swollen and aching clit.

You come for a third time. Your legs tremble and exhaustion sets in.  You collapse against his chest and he starts thrusting up into you, his hands stroking over your hair.  You rise and fall with the rapid breaths he takes as his own orgasm approaches.  

You flick your nails over his nipple and kiss his pec.  His hips jerk suddenly and he comes with a grunt.  You feel every pulse of his cock as he spills.  “Oh god, Steve.”  You moan.  Your fingers tightening on his biceps.

He tilts your face up to his and kisses you.  “How are you feeling, sweetheart?”  He asks as he slips from within you.

“Good.  I’m so exhausted now.  But I feel good.”  You reply, nuzzling into his chest.  “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.  Thank you for sharing your first time with me.”  He says softly kissing the top of your head.

Thirty-eight.  That’s the number of dates you go on before he asks you to move in with him.

Six.  That’s the number of months before he proposes.

Three.  Is the number of children you have.

There a many more important numbers in the life you share with Steve.  But it is Steve that is the only one for you.

[lukeskywaker4ever]

King Pedro V 2nd Voyage (May 20 to August 14, 1855): Italy

D. Pedro left France to visit another country that he had not had the opportunity to see in 1854. In fact, it was a matter of different states, since Italy, as we know it today, would only fully unite in the year 1870. otherwise, the king of Portugal will not have been surrendered to that peninsula, nor to his people. To his uncle, in England, Prince Albert, Pedro wrote on 30th June: “It is needless to mention the chaotic state of the Italian people, as it is known throughout the world; but it is becoming more serious every day and the people are begging for anything other than the manifestations of the papist religion.” The portion of his travel diary to Italy has disappeared, so it is not possible to follow D. Pedro's thoughts on these lands. It is known that on June 26th he landed in Civitavecchia, but, apart from the salutes and compliments from the authorities, Pedro did not stay long in that port. Rome was waiting for him. Early in the morning of the following day, the Portuguese monarch was visited by the cardinal secretary of state. At noon and half an hour it was Dom Pedro's turn to talk to the Supreme Pontiff. The entire Pontifical Court was present at that solemn moment and, the Portuguese ambassador in Rome tells us that, according to Pope Pius IX, 

the qualities of the king of Portugal "had inspired feelings of sincere affection." The remaining hours of that day served to visit the Vatican Museum 

and St. Peter's Basilica. 

At five o'clock in the afternoon, he went back to his rooms. D. Pedro and D. Luís “used the 28,29 and 30 days to observe the monuments of the ancient Roman greatness.” Thanks to the letter he wrote, his opinion about the Eternal City reached us. It was not favorable. "Rome doesn't appeal to me, and if it weren't for antiquities, which make history more alive than any book, I couldn't stand it." Pedro had written this letter before the special experience he had on the 2nd of July. He was invited to climb to the top of the dome of St. Peter's Basilica, 

where a meal had been prepared for His Majesty. After taking a look at the dome's lantern and participating in the said meal, D. Pedro was presented with an inscription, coming down the same stairs that had taken him to the top of the Basilica. It was a stone plaque, embedded in the wall, which recorded precisely that moment of the climb and visit of the king of Portugal to the dome of São Pedro. A treat prepared in advance that, if it did not please Pedro, at least it would have surprised him.

On the 3rd of July the Lusitanians embarked on the French steam Reine Hortense, 

arriving in Civitavecchia and still at your service. Naples, the capital of the Kingdom of the Two-Sicilies, followed in the itinerary. On the 4th, the anchor was released and Vesuvius could be seen. As in Bordeaux, a pavilion was prepared on the quay, topped by the arms of Portugal 

and that kingdom. 

Salvas were launched and the Portuguese anthem was heard in southern Italy. The King of the Two Sicilies, Fernando II, 

went to wait for D. Pedro at the pier, advancing to the “edge” to greet him with “affection and rejoicing”. Eight coaches took the retinue and the Sicilian court to the Royal Palace, 

where they were welcomed by Queen Maria Teresa, 

the ladies of the court and the officers, and then accompanied to their quarters. The rooms were the “most splendid in this great Royal Palace; it is a whole side of the first floor with an artificial garden along; they are of great vastness and immense wealth. His Sicilian Majesty is so pleased with this visit, that he wanted to take care of all the preparations himself, even doing a five-day program in which His Majesty detailed the most interesting curiosities to visit ”, reveals Viscount de Alte, Portuguese ambassador in that kingdom. The program includes a walk in the park, a visit to the main monuments of Naples, such as the Cathedral, 

the castle of the city, 

galleries and, in particular, a museum where objects were found from excavations in the ancient cities of Pompeii and Herculaneum. Pompeii 

and Herculaneum, 

moreover, did not miss the visit of the king of Portugal, who observed the ruins of the cities. In an open coach, they went from antiquity to modernity, visiting a foundry where locomotives were built which, certainly, will have caught the attention of the king of Portugal, so devoted to the railways. After a gala dinner, there was an opportunity to watch an Italian opera at the Teatro San Carlo, 

where “all spectators in uniform or court dresses performed. The central gallery was occupied by the three Majesties.” D. Pedro, flanked by Fernando II and his wife. On the day, aboard a Neapolitan steam, visitors sailed the coastal strip. On the island of Capri, Pedro had the opportunity to take a look at the Blue Grotto, 

to later return to land, visit the Natural History museum 

and at night go to a court ball.

On Monday, July 9th, the departure ceremony was repeated. The farewell was moved, with hugs and words of appreciation, and Queen Maria Teresa even regretted that the young Portuguese did not stay for a few more days. D. Pedro and his entourage did not go very far, since they first passed through the island of Sicily and walked through the city of Palermo before heading for the northern port of Genoa. This visit to Sicily would be off the official route, as the viscount of Alte tells us:

“His Majesty [D. Pedro], wishing to keep the most rigorous incognito on this visit, he had not even communicated his project to El Rei das Duas Sicilies, but His Majesty seeing the direction the steam was taking sent the telegraph orders to his Majesty Fidelissima. all honors and distinctions. El-Rei, for example pledged with this delicacy, decided, however, not to accept, and sent to tell the Lieutenant-General that he would welcome him, but without a uniform, and as a private individual.”

There were the problems of being a traveling king. In plain clothes, Pedro enjoyed the festivities of Santa Rosalina, which were celebrated in the city, saw the procession and at night the fireworks. You will have taken in the flavor of that island, strolling through the streets, visiting the churches and having time to inspect a Benedictine abbey outside Palermo.

On the 14th of July, he arrived in Genoa, city in the kingdom of Sardinia. It was eight o'clock in the morning when the king of Portugal arrived, but only at ten o'clock would the vessel anchor and the illustrious guest would go down to the pier. The usual apparatus awaited him, with salutes, flags and uniformed authorities. Accommodated in the royal palace, 

tourists had that same day the opportunity to visit the city's cathedral 

and the Rosso Palace, 

an art museum of Genoa. 

The next day, at the palace door, Pedro had a surprise prepared for him. They were “the royal railroad carriages that had been brought to the palace door; and having [D. Pedro] thanked the authorities for the good reception he had received, gave permission for the special train to be able to move ”. The train was taking them to Turin. On the way, they appreciated the Apennines mountain 

range and the tunnels that cross them took D. Pedro's curiosity, as well as the pipes that brought water to Genoa and that could be observed along the way. Once again, human ingenuity delighted the spirit of the Lusitanian monarch, “taking His Majesty information on everything, and even making note of the costs of materials, considering and discussing what could be applied to our country.” The hands of the clock marked three o'clock in the afternoon, when the smoke from the locomotive mixed with the air of Turin. "The entire garrison of Turin was in arms, and the national waiting was posted from the railway station to the palace", the streets were full of people who greeted the king, looking for a glimpse of his person through all that apparatus . Arriving at the royal palace, 

the kings of Sardinia and Portugal were greeted. Vitor Manuel II of Sardinia 

would, years later, be the king of a unified Italy. Interestingly, his youngest daughter, Maria Pia, would, years later, be queen of Portugal. Prince D. Luís knew this way about his future father-in-law, but the princess would not be present. The future couple would exchange words and looks, for the first time, on October 5th, 1862. 

Already married by proxy, they met in the Tagus aboard the ship that transported Maria Pia from Savoy from Italy to her new kingdom, Portugal. In Turin, the Portuguese were taken to their quarters, in the palace, and the remaining hours would have been spent in the protocol and customary interaction with members of the royal family and the court. The evening was marked by a “big formal dinner”. It is known that after Turin, D. Pedro and his entourage will have passed through Switzerland and that the final destination was Belgium, again at the port of Ostend, where the faithful steam Mindelo, left behind, months before, in France, was waiting your monarch to take you back to the kingdom. On August 14th, he was back in Portugal.

[a-suitcase-heart]

New York, New York

July 20th - July 29th 2018

It has been about 11 months since we went to The Big Apple. I have not recovered from it, I don’t think I ever will. There’s just something magnetic about the place, it pulls you right in. It’s like what Alicia Keys sang in her song, “..these streets will make you feel brand new, big lights will inspire you.”, i felt exactly that. It opens up my mind to new cultures and surroundings. Makes you feel like you can be anything you want.

We went through quite a few challenges along the way; the rain, the cold, the summer heatwave, the super expensive uber, the exhaustion, the confusion (mostly because the subway is going through some maintenance so they were re-routing most trains), the roller coaster ride, the lack of variations of food available for us, the locks, the fearless birds. But it was all worth it.

I remember the second we stepped out of the subway station near Madison Square Garden and seeing the streets with the signs filled with people and cars and firetruck sirens echoing into the surroundings (of which we began to hear almost every single day), looking up and seeing tall buildings that goes up endlessly. I just stood there, soaking it all in. It’s like I’m in the movies. It’s amazing. Walking down the street passing by Radio City Music Hall, Rockefeller Center and seeing everything all at once was just overwhelming, but it was the good kind. The kind that makes you want more.

It was actually our honeymoon trip and our families sent us off to the airport, we are so blessed and forever grateful for that. We met some of the most friendliest and interesting New Yorkers during our trip and even one thought we were Arabs, of which we just nod in agreement to avoid having to explain our true heritage. We ate middle eastern food almost everyday, Halal Guys, cheese pizzas, tried the famous Shake Shack. All in all the food was great but towards the end I just miss having beef noodles or tom yum or just simply noodles with soup. We went to MoMA and saw Van Gogh’s Starry Night (it almost made the both of us cry), Taylor Swift’s Reputation Tour Concert *screams*, Giraffes?Giraffes! gig, New York Redbull’s soccer match (because the husband is a fan of soccer) and got matching jerseys! We got to go up The Top Of the Rock and see the Empire State from above, The Rose Reading Room at The New York Public Library was gorgeous! Brooklyn Bridge, Grand Central Terminal, American Museum of Natural History, One World Trade Center, Statue of Liberty and we get to take a few days away from Manhattan for a 6-hour bus ride to Buffalo to visit the Niagara Falls. We were so excited and the anticipation to see the falls were just too high until we finally get to see it. One word: breathtaking. We took the tour boat and I couldn’t open my eyes wide enough to see the falls because it was so hot and bright, but whatever glimpse i had at that moment counts as a win. I mean, it’s Niagara Falls! My husband planned this part of the trip, so he was out of his mind happy that we get to see it.

Times Square was just like what you see on tv (or Spiderman movies), super crowded, super bright, super-sized everything. We get to see Times Square both at night and in the day; no complains we love it both times. Coney Island was the one that broke my husband a little because he was afraid of rides and we were suppose to take the Cyclone which by the way was having some technical problems just before we took it (but we didn’t know). Apparently the ride got stuck midway and people had to climb down the tracks. Yes. So anyways we went through the park and took some rides to gear up for Cyclone and when the time comes his palms were as sweaty as ever. So I held his hand and told him it’ll be fine and while sitting in the ride waiting for it to move a girl started to cry because she changed her mind and she didn’t want to take the ride. So she didn’t and I looked at my husband to see whether he’s alright; he looked worse than ever. As the ride start, so did the screaming. I can still hear his screams from time to time now it’s frightening and hilarious at the same time. But I’m so proud of him for facing his fears and braving through. You’re the best! After the ride he couldn’t stop talking about it with both pure joy and fright on his face, he still talks about it now with that same expression.

Also, I get to reunite with my sketchbooks at the Brooklyn Art Library which I’ve done and sent back for The Sketchbook Project. It was like reuniting with a long lost friend. Once before those books helped me express myself in my own ways and seeing them again just brings back the memories attached to them. I also got a bunch of goodies from the library for keepsake because husband said I should since we come all the way. According to my husband this is the sole important purpose of us going to New York, so i could reunite with my books. I marry the right person, without a doubt.

On the way back home, driving up to JFK felt very sentimental. I soaked in the last of everything I see as we drive through the streets. We get to see the sunset while in the car illuminating Manhattan and I waved goodbye. It was an inspiring trip, I guess dreams are really made there.

So!

10 days

23-hour flight

5 Airbnb stays

1 hotel

3 sets of luggage

1 perfect companion

Oh New York, you have part of my heart now.

I’m just going to let the rest of the photos speak for themselves because, why not? Here you go!

[lyricalafrica2]

Technology and survival tactics.

Well, what a whirlwind month. I'm now solely trying to write my blog from my phone. I'm also having trouble accessing photos downloaded from my camera, so I may have to do that separately. After allowing someone to look through photos on my ipad and having dropped it on concrete, it's never been the same. The screen flickers faster than a humming birds wings. To say I'm upset is a bit of an understatement. When you're so far away from home and it's been a reliable means of working and keeping up to date with everything, it is a huge loss!

I will try to update you with some visuals in due course!

So here I find myself in Zimbabwe. After a few days turned into a week at Vic Falls. Extended as I was really at a loss of what to do. I'd spent so long just hanging around, waiting for people to make decisions, I thought perhaps I was due a little time to just please myself and so I set off.

The falls were spectacular as I remembered them. Such magnificence and such force behind them, it's hard not to be affected by the energy.

It took me two whole days to actually get to the national park, after deciding to have a lie in on the first day after a long 7 hours on the bus from Lusaka. I opted to do an afternoon walking safari with the rhinos. A good decision as far as I was concerned. The experience wasn't busy with copious amounts of tourists and to encounter the whole herd at the one time, with a 14 day old calf, was just something so incredible! Again, a little teary eyed. I will never tire of seeing such animals. They're obviously under 24/7 protection with armed rangers who keep track of them and ensure that they are kept safe and well within the park.

The trek wasn't so long, but the guide was pretty keen to educate us on anything we came across, from impala middens to mopani trees and the pumbas that eyed us from a distance.

I was in my element. I do just feel utter peace when I'm around animals. Whether they're cats and dogs or lions and elephants. Respect them, give them their space and don't underestimate them.

I stayed at the same backpackers as last time Livingstone backpackers. A lively establishment, pretty much unchanged from the previous time where I met my lovely bunch of Norwegian Friends. I pretty much had the dorm to myself, until a German girl Lucy checked in. We got along and so hit the falls together the following day. It was a relief to have a bit of company by that point. Cliques and groups had formed through the volunteer scheme there and being a bit of an introvert around newbies, I'd say hello, but inevitably end up doing my own things.

To spend long in Livingstone, you need money. The activities don't come cheaply, so I chose wisely. I chose the rhinos over the devils pool. At $105 to go and perch on the edge, which I have already done, came literally rather steep. If money was no object then fair enough, but I'm very happy I chose the rhinos, why wouldn't I!?

I ended up going to the falls twice after realising that during full moon there was going to be a lunar rainbow. Slightly anticlimatic even for the locals this time. It has been known to shine much brighter and be more vibrant, but still it was there, if not in all it's glory. Wet and cold, I returned with a small group I'd become acquainted with at the backpackers, eager for the warmth of a hot chocolate.

It was around this point I met Jesus, hailing from Wolverhampton. Even more appropriate was that the couple who I got talking to, who had just booked into the lodge, swore by him. Sorry, I'm not taking the pee, but I had to laugh at the irony. They were very sweet and seemingly took me under their wing for a day or two until I fled the nest that was the backpackers. Sending me on my way with a bar of chocolate and a few other treats for my onward journey. I had made the decision to follow Jesus (or Matt the bearded, named Jesus because this is what the locals called to him as he walked the streets 😏) to Zimbabwe. I figured rather than lounging around the backpackers waiting for things to transpire, I'd take matters into my own hands. Jesus seemed clued up as far as the whole travel thing went. He'd already done the whole west side of Africa including the Congo and Nigeria, and the tip of the continent in S.A. Now he

was venturing back up through central africa, having covered namibia, botswana, a little of southern Zambia and next stop Zimbabwe. Our stories tallied in the fact that we were both overworked, unfulfilled in some way back on home turf and drawn back to Africa, just not in the fact that I could grow a beard of such magnitude.

I arrived in Livingstone Zimbabwe, a day after Matt, on my way across the bridge over the National park (the one where people dice with the health and safety of Zambia, at the end of some stretchy umbilical chord, holding them onto life) I took the usual pictures and selfies. Stopping only momentarily, so locals wouldn't think I was an opportune customer for their wares. I made it through the boarder unscathed with a smile and a cheery greeting and onwards to the meeting point.

My luggage as little as it was, was heavy and I was feeling it through my shoulders and neck. But with the backpackers apparently being five minutes away, it seemed unnecessary to give into a taxi, especially as I'd made it this far.

Well, that was in my head, until a friendly local who had just returned from Zurich to see his family, insisted he give me a lift up the hill. When I walk like that, I'm usually on a mission and I guess it showed! Once I got there, I was pleased he had stopped me. We had a short, but friendly exchange in the five minute ride.

Next piece of the jigsaw was to fathom out the currency of Zim. So for those of you living blindly to the affairs of Zim, apart from the leaders of said country, Zim doesn't exactly have a straightforward currency.

They have blackmarket bond, US dollars and ecocash. Eco cash is a fairly new way of doing things in that, you can buy a simcard for your phone with a company called econet. You buy airtime to concert to data or calls etc, then you can also load it with bond, bought with US dollars. So depending upon the current rate, the deal can be better or worse. If your bought eco rate is better that that of the shop rate, you use your phone to purchase through ecocash. If the eco cash rate is higher that the rate you bought the ecocash for, it's often better to buy with dollars.

If you go to the cash machine in the unlikely event that your foreign card works, you will receive bond, but be charged by you bank in dollars. You can buy bond with dollars if you wish from random floating around the street, but their rate rarely seems to budge above 9.5, even if the official rate is higher. It's to put it crudely, a bit of a headfk. Coupled with the regular load shedding or power cuts due to the low water of Kariba dam, it can make life taxing for citizens of the country. It's true, their country is in a wee bit of a mess and once you get past the ones who make untimely assumptions about you as a foreigner, people are generally lovely and very helpful.

I had a chat with a girl who insisted I take her back to the uk as she loved the "chilly weather". She loved the idea of swimming in the sea. Hmm I thought. I wonder how you'd feel on New Years day? She asked for my necklace. I told her it was a birthday present from my mum. She seemed to understand the significance. We had a brief light hearted conversation before I caught back up with the others.

I'm saying others, I've gotten way ahead of myself....

I've failed to tell you about Man Biscuit arriving later on the same day as us. The first class overnight train to Bulawayo 🤔 the fact that the basin looked initially like a fold down bedpan and that's where I thought the smell was coming from. The buffet dinner that we served ourselves carrot sticks dipped in.. yup more peanut butter. It's all part of the journey so to speak. At times you don't think you can take anymore and then something happens, good or not so and you still come out the other end and hopefully smiling!

So Matt (Jesus) and I decided to go exploring once we'd freshened up from the long journey. We found a lovely cafe with a beautiful garden that did good coffee (always appreciated!) and cake and from there, we worked our way around the inner city blocks until we got to the National Gallery. Big tick from me, that this was a mutually agreed must see. The natural history museum was also on Matt's list, but by the end of the day, we bypassed that in favour of food.

The surprise came when after having a good look around the gallery, I went to see the artists who had studios. They are set off a little garden/courtyard in the center of the building. They are on two levels, and there are probably around ten studios in all. There were only maybe 3/4 studios open that day, though I only made it into two. After opening my mouth and saying how I wished I had a studio, the lady artist, asked if I was also an artist. I said I was and that I really missed my practice. She said that she could put me in touch with someone who I could chat to about it. Uh oh, what have I done? She seemed keen, not just to give me a number, but to find the person for a face to face conversation. Well we did, we talked and at the end of the conversation we were taking about a residency! My only thing was finding suitable, safe and financially agreeable accommodation. Even at the backpackers, it chews into your money quickly. I've always been a one for buying more into experiences than things, (she says this as she watches her ipad have a meltdown and wishes she could be writing her blog on it, rather than thumb typing on her phone...)

And so, why would I pass up on a opportunity to do a residency at the National Gallery? I submitted all I was asked, so I waited for the official, "everything is cleared" and obviously to find a room. It was that evening, when we got back to the backpackers in my semi stunned state, that Man Biscuit arrived or Johannes, from Germany. He had also been on the road for a while and so two became three.

Our little jaunt out the next day saw the three of us hiring a car to take in Matopos National Park, it is a large, rather dramatic park. I liken it in some ways to Yellowstone, for it's large rocky outcrops and almost fosilised trees. The park contains many points of interest, including 360degree views from apex points, cave paintings and war memorials. There are also white rhino and giraffe in this park. The game park another 21 kms down the road has more, but come the end of the day and our mileage limitations with the car hire company, we decided against a trip there too. We'd seen impala by the time we got back to the exit. Lovely, but slightly disappointing, given the promise of rhino. We were starting to think they'd been hidden in some unreachable corner of the park, unaccessible to out little fiat. Only tar roads was our mantra for the day. As a last gasp, we managed to talk a ranger into taking us to see them, having spent most of our dollars on park entry another 60 was going to be a hefty chunk. There were other guests eager to see them from another lodge, so we basically just tagged along, after they'd stalked the bush for an hour trying to locate them. Amongst these guests was an impressive young irishman, cycling across the continent on his own. As lean and lythe as serious cyclists are. It reminded me of my considerations of doing the same one day.

Once we got word, we trekked maybe around a kilometre to the site where a mother and her 14 month old calf stood in the bushes, just grazing away and minding their own. Again, just one of those life defining moments. The mother had her horn removed and her ears were tagged. It's an expensive business to do that and the process takes around 2 hours to complete. It's sad that it has come to not allowing an animal to retain what is rightly theirs, in an attempt to keep them alive. In some cases they're killed anyway by poachers, if they've been following scent trails for days, only to find a hornless rhino, what use is that? And so to reduce their chances of wasting their time again.... well you get the picture, its tragic! I hope though this mother and calf at least get to see out their years. They truly are magical beasts!

And as the sun dipped lower in the sky, and the golden glow lit up the landscape, they backed off further into the bushes.

Their eyesight typically isn't so good, but every now and again, the rangers would give a certain pitched whistle, if they started to look at all unsettled or got too close. Apparently, they think its a bird and this distracts their attention away from their visitors. It was over all to soon and as we made our way back though the bush, catching our legs on thorns and having rogue branches snap back on our shins, your mind turns to the fact that this is someone elses norm. This is their life. 0600 till 1800, six days a week. Trekking through the bush, being near these beautiful beings, taking in this visceral life.

We gave the rangers a lift back through the park, before heading for town. We needed food! We pulled up in a darkened street next to an oxfam truck. We decided to move on from the dubious area after a couple of guys scoped out the trunk as we opened it to grab our wallets. I didn't feel easy, a gut wrenching, not happy came over me, even before we parked up. And there it is, after previous experiences, sometimes you just have to listen. That feeling, this dis-ease it's usually there for a reason.

Again, so much more has happened since that point in time. I have found a new abode with a beautiful family, I am fully immersed in gallery life with opportunities literally pouring out of the woodwork. I still miss my people and I've done a public talk as an artist 😱 been disgustingly ill, found the yoga retreat from heaven where I regularly hang upsidedown like a bat..... and so much more.... but, I think for now, I've given you enough to mull over!

Whatever next? Answers on a postcard, the most imaginative wins... I've sure as hell stopped trying to plan or predict!

[lilyvandersteen]

Puppy Eyes Chapter 21

Well, this is it... The ending! Enjoy! I may add an epilogue if you'd like a glimpse into their lives years later. Let me know :-)

Thank you so much to everyone who sends me feedback - you’re wonderful and you spur me on to keep writing :-)

This story is also on AO3 and on Fanfiction.net.

The other parts can be found here: Prologue - Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 16 - Chapter 17 - Chapter 18 - Chapter 19 - Chapter 20

Chapter 21: The Wedding

After breakfast that Sunday, Kurt steered Blaine to the sofa for a much-needed conversation. It was all too easy to get lost in pleasure and just roll along with whatever Blaine had in mind, but Kurt knew that they needed to discuss their relationship and their future.

What Kurt hadn’t counted on was the phrase “We need to talk” scaring Blaine, who had to be reassured they weren’t breaking up.

Now where did you get that idea? I don’t want to break up with you ever. I want you for keeps, honey.

Blaine told Kurt he was planning on proposing, and Kurt, remembering some of the more outlandish proposal ideas he’d read on the post-its in his scrapbook, warned Blaine not to go overboard, and to keep it private. As romantic as it seemed to be proposed to in a carriage in Central Park or at the top of the Empire State Building, Kurt didn’t want an audience. He wanted the moment to be just about them.

Blaine agreed to that, and also to looking for a place together. Kurt was relieved. He knew Blaine owned his apartment, and he’d thought he’d want to stay there.

Blaine didn’t put up any objections about waiting to have children, either, and went along with the plan to adopt a dog. So much so that later that afternoon, they found themselves at the local animal shelter, petting a mini dachshund and her four pups.

Kurt fell in love with them instantly, and had to tear himself away when it was time to go. Walking home, he pictured himself and Blaine each with a pup of their own on a leash. They’d be a family.

It filled Kurt’s stomach with butterflies to realise how close he was now to all that he’d yearned for, and it made him smile like a loon.

Over the next few weeks, Kurt went back to the animal shelter whenever he could spare a moment, and each time, he came home more smitten, and happily anticipating taking two puppies home.

The weekends were filled with date after date. Blaine seemed to think that he needed to make up for all the missed opportunities by cramming in as much quality time with Kurt as he possibly could. Kurt happily went along with it, though he liked cuddling on the sofa watching reality TV just as much as all the outings Blaine came up with. He just enjoyed spending time with Blaine, period.

There was no denying Blaine had a good grasp on what Kurt liked, though.

For their second date, Blaine took him for brunch in a quaint tearoom with an Alice in Wonderland décor, a feast for both the eyes and the palate. Kurt soaked it all in greedily, and told Blaine about the tea parties he used to have on his lawn, with his dad and his stuffed animals. “Remind me to show you some pictures the next time we’re in Lima.”

Kurt laughed at Blaine’s shifty eyes and scared expression at the mention of Burt. “I told my dad it was all a misunderstanding, and that we’re together now. So he’s not mad at you anymore. You can come home with me without fearing for your kneecaps.”

That last comment made Blaine’s eyes widen even further, and Kurt giggled some more.

After brunch, they visited the zoo, and Blaine showed Kurt the sights in Central Park. They sat down on the grass at the Gapstow Bridge for a while, enjoying the beauty of the scene before them.

“I feel like I’m in a storybook,” Kurt said.

“Well, maybe you are,” Blaine quipped. “And you’re the hero of the story, breaking my curse.”

“That would have been the ending already,” Kurt pointed out. “So where are we now, in the epilogue? In the sequel?”

Blaine chuckled. “I guess.”

“So there’s more drama to come?”

Blaine sighed. “Nothing too major, I hope. But yes, every life has its ups and downs.”

Kurt put his head on Blaine’s shoulder. “Together, we can weather any storm, can’t we?”

“We can.”

The next day, they went to the Met. Blaine had bought tickets beforehand this time, so that they wouldn’t have to queue. The exhibition was beautiful, but in his heart of hearts, Kurt preferred the Museum of Natural History.

The following weekend, Blaine took Kurt ice-skating, and laughed and cooed when Kurt proved to be an uncoordinated Bambi on the ice. After about an hour of flailing and falling, they called it quits and went for a luxurious high tea in a tearoom close to the rink, where Kurt moaned over the madeleines and financiers – “So good, Blaine!” – until Blaine slapped down a few bills and tugged a giggling Kurt out of the establishment and straight into a cab to get home asap.

Another week passed, and this time around, Blaine’s weekend plans included a showing of a 1950s musical starring Gene Kelly and afterwards dinner at a restaurant with an amazing view.

“You spoil me,” Kurt said to Blaine, taking out his phone to snap a picture of the artfully arranged amuse-bouches the waiter had set in front of him.

Blaine smiled. “I like spoiling the people I love.”

Kurt felt himself beaming ear to ear. Maybe there would come a time when a love declaration from Blaine would not make his stomach flutter and his heart beat double-time and the corners of his mouth turn up, but he doubted it.

When Valentine’s Day arrived, Blaine took the wooing up another notch. Kurt hadn’t counted on them celebrating Valentine’s, seeing as it was an ordinary Friday, scheduled chock-full from dawn till dusk. Blaine, however, had other ideas.

Kurt woke up that day to Blaine kissing him everywhere, a trail that led from his forehead all the way to his toes and left tingling awareness in its wake, but when Kurt wanted to grab Blaine and return the favour, he’d gone. He came back with a breakfast tray worthy of Instagram, but Kurt pouted at it and at Blaine. “You’re such a tease!”

“We have no time, beautiful! We need to be at school in half an hour.”

Kurt shot up from the bed. “What?! The dogs!”

“I walked them. Relax. They’ve had their walk, they have food and water. They’re happy.”

Kurt enjoyed the yummy breakfast Blaine had made him, and knew he’d have to think of something to surprise Blaine with, too. Between his two morning classes, he hurried to their favourite bakery and bought Blaine a brie and honey sandwich and two cronuts, which he then dropped off in Blaine’s office with a sweet note, enlisting Professor Scher’s help to unlock the door.

While he was walking the dogs during his lunch break, his phone chimed with a thank you, and he grinned, already looking forward to seeing Blaine at the animal shelter that evening.

Nothing, however, could have prepared him for what he saw at the shelter, in the room Eileen showed him to. Somehow, Blaine had managed to turn the place into a piece of paradise. It was like walking straight into a forest – trees and flowers and running water. And in the middle, there was a table that seemed to come from the penguin scene in Mary Poppins. It was beautiful, and Kurt gaped at it all, gobsmacked.

Then he saw Blaine, looking at him with so much love it took his breath away. Blaine had two of the puppies on his lap, and he was… Oh my goodness, he was on one knee… Was this…? “Blaine!”

And yes, it was the proposal Kurt had been waiting for, and it was so moving and so unbelievably perfect that Kurt cried buckets, laughing wetly when one of the pups tried to cheer him up by licking away his tears, because aww, that felt familiar.

Before Kurt knew it, he had a ring on his finger and was clutching the Devon key he’d given back to Blaine in January. As it warmed up in his hand, he thought, Mine, and it filled him with so much happiness that he just had to kiss Blaine, over, and over, and over.

Blaine had not only provided the perfect setting for the proposal, he’d brought food, too: some of Kurt’s favourite dishes.

“I’m sorry it’s all cold,” Blaine apologised. “It’s not really picnic season, I know, but I didn’t know how to keep food warm here, so I chose cold dishes.”

Kurt, his mouth already full, swallowed and hastened to say, “It’s perfect. Seriously. I love this. All of this. Wow, Blaine. This is just… Perfect.”

Blaine beamed at him and started eating too.

K&B

The next Friday, Kurt moved back into Blaine’s apartment. They also went back to the animal shelter to officially adopt the two puppies they had chosen. They called them Margaret and Oliver, or Mollie and Ollie for short.

A few days earlier, Kurt had called the dog walking agency to tell that he would be unavailable for the next four weeks, as he was adopting two puppies of his own, and Sheila had squealed excitedly and asked for all the details. “So I take it you won’t be dog-sitting anymore? Just dog-walking after these four weeks are over?”

“Yes. I think I’ve found my place.”

“Aww, you sound so happy. Well, good luck with the pups, and send me a pic once they’ve settled in, will you?”

“I will.”

“Oh, and give me your new address, to put it in the database, please?”

When he told her the address, there was a moment of silence. “That’s Devon’s address! Are you scamming our agency by dog-sitting for Devon’s owner without going through us?”

Kurt’s skin prickled uncomfortably. Uh-oh. Should have seen this coming.

“No, Devon isn’t there anymore,” Kurt said. “I’m marrying the guy who lives at that apartment. And we got ourselves two new dogs, to replace Devon.”

“Devon died? Oh, poor dear!” Sheila commiserated. “So that’s why Mr Anderson stopped calling on us. I did wonder. Okay, I’ll make a note of that. And sorry for accusing you.”

“’S all right,” Kurt mumbled, feeling guilty, because he had done exactly what she’d accused him of.

“So Devon’s owner fell for you, did he? How did that happen?” Sheila asked.

“Well, we got talking… And we have a lot in common. And ugh, he’s so gorgeous, Sheila, and so sweet. I had a crush five minutes in.”

Sheila giggled. “And he did, too?”

Kurt scoffed. “I wish. No, it took him a LOT longer. I pined for ages.”

Sheila laughed. “Can’t have been too long, ‘cause you’re getting married already and your first time looking after Devon was in… let me check… January 2012. That’s only two years ago!”

“Well, it FELT like ages,” Kurt amended, and then he laughed too.

“So when’s the wedding?” Sheila wanted to know.

“July 14th. At the New York Public Library.”

“Oh, wow, nice! Well, congrats to you both, and if you need a dog sitter for your honeymoon, you know who to call!”

“We do. Thank you, Sheila!”

K&B

Mollie and Ollie were happy playful pups, and Blaine and Kurt loved them beyond measure, even though they ruined more than a few shoes and pieces of clothing.

Kurt had to keep telling Blaine not to laugh when Mollie playfully bit his hand or Ollie tugged at his jeans. “Don’t encourage them, Blaine! People and their clothes are NOT acceptable chew and tug toys. We BOUGHT them toys, give them those!”

Kurt and Blaine drove to Ohio to visit their family at Easter, and both Pam and Carole cooed over the pups, who took to them instantly.

Blaine was jumpy around Burt for days, until at last Burt sat him down and told Blaine to stop treating him like a bomb that could go off any minute.

Blaine’s face shone when Burt added that he’d accepted him as his son-in-law. “Took you way too long to make your mind up, but I can tell you’re making Kurt very happy now. You guys are good together. Just don’t screw it up, okay?”

“I won’t, Burt,” Blaine vowed, taking Kurt’s hand in his and squeezing it way too hard.

Kurt laughed and kissed Blaine on the cheek. “Don’t stress him out, Dad. I want him to live long enough to actually marry me.”

“I’m not!” Burt protested. “I just welcomed him to the family!”

Carole patted Burt on the arm. “Aww, that’s nice, honey. Now can we get back to the wedding planning? Kurt was just saying he’d like you wear your black suit with the blue tie.”

Pam was equally eager to discuss the wedding plans, and offered to look after Ollie and Mollie while Kurt and Blaine would be going on their honeymoon.

Slightly less welcome was her news about Cooper. “I told Cooper that you were getting married, and he’s very disappointed he’s not the best man. He said he’s writing a speech anyway, ‘cause nobody else knows you well enough to give a decent best man’s speech.”

Blaine blanched, and Kurt looked at him in alarm.

Pam laughed. “Oh, honey bee, it will be okay. Your brother loves you.”

Blaine huffed, muttered something under his breath and changed the subject.

When they were in bed that evening, Kurt asked, “Are you really worried about Cooper’s speech? How bad can it be?”

Blaine let out a deep sigh. “Let me just say that Coop lives to embarrass and belittle me. That’s his favourite pastime.”

Kurt rubbed soothing circles on his back. “If it gets too bad, I’ll find a way to distract everyone. Did you know that I can sneeze about twenty times in a row?”

Blaine huffed out a laugh. “No, I didn’t. That’s good to know.”

He sighed again. “Maybe I’m overreacting anyway. I really hope I am.”

K&B

In May, Kurt graduated with two degrees: one in fashion design and one in graphic design.

As Blaine had predicted, R/GA hadn’t even waited until Kurt’s actual graduation to offer him a job as a junior designer.

“I’ve no doubt that you’ll be a senior designer in five years max,” Ellie had told him. “You’re just that good. The work you’ve done so far has been a hit with our clients, and several of them have requested you as the main designer for their next campaigns. So… Will you stay with us?”

Kurt had signed the contract right then and there.

Now, at the ceremony, he was talking to Professor Scher, who’d given him a big hug and told him she’d miss him in her classes. She whooped in celebration when he told her about scoring a job at R/GA. “Now you’re glad you took that minor in graphic design, aren’t you?”

“I am,” Kurt agreed. “I’m sure my fashion design degree will come in handy too, though.”

Professor Scher smiled at him. “Oh, I’ve no doubt.”

She lowered her voice and whispered, “Are you designing the tuxes for the wedding?”

Kurt nodded and grinned. “Yes, I’ve designed them, and I’m sewing them, too. Blaine’s outfit is already done, bowtie and all, and now I’m working on mine.”

He saw Blaine look at him from across the room and sent him a smile.

“I told him to stay away from you at the ceremony,” Professor Scher continued in an undertone. “The whole board of governors is here today, and he’s way too obvious around you. You’re graduating today, but still. I don’t want Kay Unger to suspect anything, and sack Blaine over it.”

Kurt bit his lip.

“Go say goodbye to your friends and then go home to celebrate,” Professor Scher advised. “I’ll send your man after you. And I’ll see you at the wedding. Congrats on your job!”

Kurt beamed. “Thank you, Professor.”

He moved on to Maizie, who’d come to the ceremony with her parents and her big sister. It made him miss Burt and Carole, who had decided to stay at home. “We’ll be travelling to New York already for your wedding. I can’t go hopping on a plane every two months, I’ve got a business to run!”

Kurt understood that, but it stung a little anyway. Instead of his parents, he’d brought along Rachel, who was now chatting with Blaine. They’d met a few days after the proposal, when Kurt really couldn’t keep the news to himself anymore and needed to squeal about it to Rachel and Mercedes. They’d both been very surprised, obviously, and miffed that Kurt had never said anything about Blaine before.

Rachel had insisted on meeting Blaine for brunch that Sunday. Kurt had been a bit apprehensive about it. He really wanted them to like each other, and what if they didn’t? But he needn’t have worried. Rachel and Blaine clicked from the very first moment and were soon chatting away a mile a minute. The Sunday brunch had become a staple of their lives, and Rachel and Blaine were now fast friends.

Kurt tore his eyes away from Rachel and Blaine and moved in to hug Maizie and her sister, and shake her parents’ hands.

Then he went to the group that Elliott and Neil were standing in, and got pats on the back from everyone when he mentioned he already had a job lined up.

Elliott had scored a job at Elle Magazine, where he’d interned, but the others had had no luck so far in their job search.

“I guess I’ll stick with dog walking for the time being,” Neil said glumly, and Steve mentioned moving back in with his parents.

Kurt said his goodbyes to everyone and then slipped away home, where Mollie and Ollie greeted him with enthusiastic licks and wagging tails. “Time for your walk, sweeties?”

K&B

Two weeks later, he grinned when his phone rang and he saw that it was Elliott calling. “Hey Elliott! How’s Elle Magazine treating you?”

“Oh, great! I really love it there. We did a photo shoot with Meryl Streep the other day, can you believe it? She was so nice, too.”

“That’s amazing!” Kurt said. “I’m working on an ad campaign for Nike at the moment, and it’s all in black and white. Very classy.”

“Nice! Hey, Kurt?”

“Yes?”

“I got something in the mail today, and I didn’t really know what to make of it.”

Kurt’s grin grew wider. “Oh?”

“It’s a wedding invitation.”

“Uh-huh.”

“To YOUR wedding!”

“Right.”

“And it says you’re getting married to Professor Anderson. Seriously, what gives, man? Is this payback for that April Fools prank?”

Kurt laughed. “I guess you’ll just have to turn up and see.”

“What?” Elliott spluttered. “Not cool, man!”

“Suit yourself,” Kurt told him. “You don’t have to come. If you’re too chicken, you can stay at home and wonder for the rest of your life what that invitation was all about. If you come, though, make sure you’re dressed up. The dress code is black tie.”

“What? Kurt! Have you planned some kind of candid camera thing?”

“You’ll see. Bye, Elliott!”

He ended the call, still with a huge grin on his face.

Blaine, who was sitting on the sofa next to him, shook his head, chuckling. “You have the poor guy thinking you’re going to do something awful to him that makes him look like an idiot and put it on YouTube.”

Kurt shrugged. “I can’t help it that he’s paranoid because he’s got a bad conscience.”

Just then, his phone chimed with a text message.

From: Elliott

I just got a text from Neil that he got a wedding invitation too. Seriously, Kurt, what is going on?

Kurt giggled and put his phone on the coffee table without texting back.

A hand crept to his side and started tickling him.

“No, no, not there,” Kurt implored, but by then, Blaine had pinned him down and was torturing all of Kurt’s sensitive spots.

“Stop! Please stop!” Kurt begged Blaine, tears of mirth in his eyes.

“Admit it, you’re totally enjoying putting the wind up Elliott!”

Kurt let out a shout of laughter, and then shrieked, “Yes, yes, I am! Happy now?”

Blaine stopped tickling him and sat back on his haunches.

“You’re evil!” Kurt complained.

“So are you, beautiful, to scare your friend this way.”

Kurt grinned at Blaine. “I can’t WAIT to see his face. It’s gonna be priceless!”

K&B

The night before the actual wedding, Kurt met Cooper at the rehearsal dinner.

At first, Kurt stared, because wow, how had Blaine never mentioned that his brother was the most handsome man in all of North-America? But then Cooper opened his mouth, and admiration quickly turned into irritation. What a windbag!

Cooper didn’t stop talking all evening, turning every possible subject into a soliloquy about himself. Even when he gave a speech that was supposed to be about Blaine, it turned out to be a comparison in which Cooper always came out on top.

By the time the dessert was served, Kurt was sick of Cooper’s voice, and whispered into Blaine’s ear, “Okay, I get it now. Your brother is insufferable. Ugh. Can we duct-tape his mouth shut tomorrow?”

Blaine, who’d just taken a sip of champagne, snorted it out again through his nose from laughing so hard. It took a full five minutes for him to compose himself again, and then he whispered, “I wish. Thanks for the laugh, beautiful, I needed that.”

That night, Kurt slept at the loft again for one last time. Rachel and Jesse hadn’t been able to attend the rehearsal dinner because they were both starring in a revival of My Fair Lady, but they would be there for the actual wedding.

Kurt told them all about Blaine’s brother, and asked them to keep Cooper away from Blaine and from any and all microphones during the wedding. “Please. I don’t want him to ruin our day. I’m sure the two of you can keep him… busy.”

Jesse and Rachel looked at each other, and then turned to Kurt.

“On one condition,” Jesse began, and Rachel added, “That you plan our wedding for us.”

Rachel held out her left hand, and yes, a big diamond was sparkling there.

Kurt’s mouth fell open. Then, he grabbed Rachel’s hands and they both started jumping up and down, squealing so loud that Jesse clapped his hands over his ears and swore.

Kurt inspected the ring, and nodded approvingly. “It suits you. Now, tell me, how did it happen? Oh, and congrats to you both! This is AMAZING!!”

Rachel’s great news and the subsequent talk of dresses and venues and other details kept Kurt from stressing about his own wedding, and when he woke up, his mouth stretched into a wide smile of its own accord.

Humming Get Me to the Church On Time, he got up and made breakfast for all three of them. By the time the eggs and Rachel’s vegan sausages and faux bacon were in the pan, the humming had turned into singing, and once the smell of the cooked breakfast spread, Rachel and Jesse appeared in the kitchen and chimed in too.

“Not bad,” said Jesse as Kurt handed him a plate and silverware. “Not bad at all. You’d make a decent Alfred P. Doolittle.”

Kurt rolled his eyes at the meagre praise. “Thank you.”

K&B

Kurt, Rachel and Mercedes met up with Burt and Carole in their hotel room in the afternoon, and Kurt helped with the women’s hair and make-up before doing his own hair and putting his tux on.

He’d chosen blue and burgundy for the wedding theme. The invitations, the decorations, even the cake were in those colours, and the tuxes he made were, too.

Kurt’s outfit was deep blue, and the lapels of the jacket as well as his bow tie were made of a material with metallic thread in it, which shimmered in the light.

Blaine’s jacket was made of a rich patterned burgundy velvet, that Kurt had paired with black lapels, black pants and a black bow tie. Kurt couldn’t wait to see Blaine in it.

They’d decided that Kurt would be the one walking down the aisle, with his dad, so when they reached the venue, the women squeezed his hands, kissed his cheek and went inside, leaving Burt and Kurt alone on the steps.

The photographer they’d hired for the occasion made Kurt and his father pose for a few pictures and then hurried inside. Kurt watched him go, and his stomach turned into knots with sudden nerves.

Burt cleared his throat. “Well… This is it, son. Last chance to run if you wanna.”

That startled a laugh out of Kurt. “Dad!”

Burt shrugged. “You looked so pinched there for a second, I thought maybe you were having second thoughts.”

“Never. Blaine and I are forever.”

Burt nodded and patted Kurt on the back. “All right, then. Time to go in and tell that to Blaine.”

Kurt exhaled shakily. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

When he entered the Astor Hall on his father’s arm, he spared only one look for Elliott’s gobsmacked face, and then looked straight ahead, where Blaine was waiting for him with so much love in his eyes that it made Kurt feel like he’d just swallowed the sun.

Kurt put his hands in Blaine’s, looked into his eyes, and everything else just fell away as they were in their own bubble.

Kurt didn’t hear a word of Blaine’s vows, and had to be gently reminded to say his own. When it was time for the rings, he held out the wrong hand for Blaine to put the ring on, but Blaine just tickled the hand for a second and reached for the other so fluidly that Kurt was pretty sure no-one else noticed his mistake.

And then, finally, it was time to kiss, and Kurt trembled in Blaine’s arms and shed a tear or two.

Trent handed Kurt a handkerchief, and smiled when Kurt hiccupped, “They’re… h-happy tears.”

As soon as the ceremony was over, the photographer whisked Kurt and Blaine away for a photoshoot, first outside, on the steps, and then in all sorts of beautiful spots at the library. He clicked away happily while Kurt hugged Blaine from behind and wound his arms around Blaine’s middle, while Blaine kissed Kurt on the mouth, on the cheek, behind the ear, while Kurt dipped Blaine playfully and then Blaine picked Kurt up bridal style.

“This is great, guys! Keep it up!” said the photographer, so they tried out some more poses: Blaine wrapping himself around Kurt and kissing his forehead, Blaine grabbing Kurt’s tie and tugging him closer, the both of them running away and then towards the photographer, standing a few feet apart from each other and leaning in for a kiss.

Then it was time for their big entrance as a couple, and they did so to loud applause.

For their first dance, Kurt had picked another Céline Dion song, J’attendais, and he happily let her inimitable voice wash over him as he danced with his husband.

Burt had agreed to give the welcome speech, and he kept it short and sweet, saying he was hungry, which led to laughter and applause.

Kurt realised that he was hungry too, and as soon as the waiters served the first course, he tucked in. In between the different courses, Kurt and Blaine went to talk to the family and friends they’d invited. Kurt saw to his relief that Rachel and Jesse kept their word and monopolised Cooper to the point where he forgot all about giving a speech.

When they reached the table where Kurt’s college friends were sitting, Elliott breathed, “Dude!”

Kurt quirked an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“You actually got married.”

“Yes.”

“How…? When…?”

Maizie interrupted Elliott’s bumbling. “I bet they got together after that dance they shared. For Kurt’s 21st birthday, remember? Or was it before that, Kurt?”

Kurt and Blaine looked at each other and shook their heads, smiling.

“I bet you’re glad Santana dared you to dance with Professor Anderson,” Maizie beamed.

Kurt inclined his head. “I am.”

“Well, congratulations to you both,” said Maizie. “I’m so glad it all worked out.”

“Yeah, congrats,” said Neil.

Elliott nodded, still speechless, and Kurt giggled, tugging Blaine to the next table.

Blaine chuckled, raised their entwined hands and kissed them. “You’re a minx.”

“You love it,” Kurt countered.

“I do,” Blaine admitted. “I love you.”

“I love you too. For as long as we both shall live.”

“Forever?”

“Forever.”

[dougrobyngoold]

A Visit to the City of Angels - Los Angeles, CA

We spent the last 10 days visiting Rachel and Tyler on the USC Campus in L.A.  We traveled both directions using the wonderful services of the Greyhound company - it was quite an experience, but not one that I am willing to elaborate on in the written form and definitely not an experience we will be repeating at any time in the future.  Be happy to share the story with you face-to-face, if that opportunity presents itself!

We arrived in L.A. late on Friday November 16th, Rachel and Tyler rescued us from the bus terminal and took us to their wonderful apartment on the USC Campus.  They were amazing hosts, providing room and board for 10 days!  They have a great view from their apartment - which Samson seems to enjoy more than anyone else!

Saturday morning Rachel gave us the grand tour of the campus, it is quite spectacular.  They live in a building that has a Target store and a Trader Joe’s, not to mention multiple restaurants, a hair salon, a nail salon, coffee shops, and too many other amenities to remember.

Rachel and Doug in front of the Academy of Motion Pictures & Sciences on campus.

One of many water features on campus!

Taking a break from our campus tour at one of the outdoor patios scattered around the campus.

Sunday we went to see “Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald” - my first exposure to anything related to Harry Potter.  I actually enjoyed the movie, but Rachel and Tyler had to explain a lot of things to me AFTER the movie was over!  We spent the afternoon at a local brewpub watching the Bronco game while they answered all my questions!

Monday, we were on our own (Rachel and Tyler had to work), so we hung out with Samson for a while and then wandered around campus.  Eventually, we made our way over to the Natural History Museum in Exposition Park - located adjacent to the main campus.  It was a nice walk and we had a great afternoon checking out the museum.  Even found a JUNO exhibit for Doug to stand in front of (his last project at Lockheed before he retired):

We checked out the Space Shuttle exhibit, along with lots of other cool space memorabilia:

When we exited the museum, we noticed that there was a huge police presence and TONS of people hanging out at Exposition Park.  We realized that the Coliseum was right next to us and the Monday Night Football game was happening in less than an hour!  A lot of Rams and Chiefs fans headed toward us, we were the ONLY people walking away from the stadium and back toward campus.  We managed to make our way upstream against the flow of people and to Rachel’s office to pick her up from work.  How fun to meet her after work and walk home with her!

The beautiful building Rachel works in on the USC Campus, it is the old Student Union building.

We spent Monday night at home, enjoying Rachel’s awesome cooking skills and the best football game of the season on TV - Rams vs. Chiefs was an amazing game.

We had another day to ourselves on Tuesday, so we hopped on the metro and went out to Santa Monica Pier for the day.  We successfully arrived at our destination (luckily, all we had to do was get on the light rail and ride it to the end of the line - even we couldn’t mess that up!) It was a beautiful day to be at the beach.

Lots of people on the beach, enjoying the SoCal weather!

We walked out to the end of the pier, got our required picture of the pier marker, then wandered back to the ped/bike path.

View from the end of the pier looking back toward shore, amazing how many people were there on a weekday!

The view of the pier from the ped/bike path, crystal clear day and not a cloud in the sky!

We walked south from the pier on the path, stopping for a late lunch at Venice Beach.  We were enjoying our lunch at this tiny oceanside restaurant, when we heard this huge crash out the front door of the restaurant.  We looked out the door and saw this:

Apparently, the owner of the white vehicle failed to put it in “Park” and it rolled down the hill and smashed through the metal poles and flattened a couple of bikes.  Luckily, no one was hurt, which was kind of amazing when you look at how many people are using that path!  The license plate on the vehicle was priceless “LA4DIVA” - gotta love that!  Ended up being quite an entertaining lunch as we watched them sort out the mess.  We even got a free beer out of it, when the restaurant’s card reader wouldn’t work and Doug had to walk over to an ATM to get cash to pay our bill.  Perfect!  We walked back to the pier, enjoying the scene at Muscle Beach and then up the crazy sidewalk back to the metro station.

Crazy pattern on the sidewalks in Santa Monica, it made the sidewalk surface appear wavy - it was a little nauseating!

We successfully made our way back to USC and met up with Rachel at her office before heading back to their apartment.  It was a full day for us!

We managed to make our way to downtown LA and do a happy hour at the Golden Road Brewery on Wednesday evening.  Taking Lyft to and from downtown, like responsible citizens!

Grand Central Market - where Golden Road Brewery was located.

Rachel made an amazing vegan Thanksgiving meal for us - no turkey, but lots of wonderful side dishes and vegan pumpkin pie for dessert!

Thankful for family and good memories! 

Rachel and Tyler played tour guides for the next couple of days.  We checked out the La Brea Tar Pits, located right in downtown LA.  Very cool place!

Another gorgeous day to be enjoying LA.

Doug trying to pull the metal pole out of tar, we had fun with that!

Lots to learn - it is actually asphalt NOT tar.....

In front of the “dire wolf” exhibit.

I am not sure that I can recall what exactly was in this concoction, but it was definitely a first for us!

We watched a USC vs. UCLA women’s volleyball match - they were awesome!

Rachel’s best friend, Katy, was in town for the weekend - so she and Matt joined us for the volleyball game.

Vegan donut shop - yummy!

We went bowling at this vintage bowling alley called Highland Park Bowl - “LA’s oldest bowling alley” - after an incredible breakfast at Kitchen Mouse restaurant in Highland Park.

Our last adventure in LA was a visit to the Walt Disney Concert Hall - what an impressive landmark in downtown LA.

We did the self-guided audio tour of the facility, it was fun to check out the inside and the outside of the complex.

The tour started in the lobby - some of us were more focused on the tour than others!

Cool architecture, definitely needed sunglasses to checkout the outside of the building!

Enjoying one of the outside patios on the complex.

Beautiful water feature outside the building - it was composed out of pieces of china of the type that the Disney’s collected in their travels.

It took a lot of artists a lot of time to complete this sculpture!

We ate lunch at Au Lac - oh my, these were unbelievable. Tempura yam shrimp - looked and tasted just like shrimp!

Book tunnel at the Last Book Store in downtown LA.

If you like to read, you need to check this place out when you are in LA.

Cheers to an awesome trip to LA - liquid refreshment at Pearl Street Brewing.

Thank you Rachel, Tyler, and Samson!  It was so much fun and we can’t believe that you let us invade your space for 10 days!  See you soon.

[voidsettle]

Summer Junction: Small Balkans

                                                                                                       May-June 2018

Chasing the last-August experience of a region-wide country run, we started planning for our next trip, something southern this time. We wanted some history from the old towns, scorching heat of the sun over bright sea, and long vistas of the mountain ranges. Montenegro became the basis for the plan. But why settle for one if you can have more? We were going wild.

Sveti Stefan, Budva, Montenegro

Full 2 weeks were spent in careful preparations. We were throwing in Hungary and Serbia before and Bosnia and Croatia in between. The original plan grew from a tour around one country to five, some of them added (almost) against our wills. We had to fly through Budapest - our airlines had rather cheap tickets to the destination city. From there, it was hit-and-miss travel by every kind of transport you'd imagine. Bus? Plenty. Car? Repeat the hitchhiking experience. Train? Make it two.

First Stop: Budapest, Hungary

Fisherman's Bastion over Danube, Budapest, Hungary

Arriving at Budapest, we had several hours - it was but a short stop before the night train to Serbia.

Whenever I'm in Budapest, there are three things I'm looking forward to: enjoy the vista from the Fisherman's Bastion, visit Szechenyi Thermal Baths and have a taste of Hungarian Tokay.

Last time when I was in Hungary, I got lost somewhere in Pest and ended up deciphering another tourist's instructions in German (which was mutually poor but delivered fun experience nonetheless). This time I finally got to creating a mind map of major sites and attractions. No that I can definitely find Budapest Opera if left at the central train station, but a can guess the general direction at the very least.

Fun at Fisherman's Bastion

Besides, the good thing about traveling on your own (without a guide and a group of whiny tourists tagging along) is that you achieve the level of liberating enlightenment never to be experienced in your own country. It usually takes several days for this skill to kick in. I was all the more surprised as this expanding feeling bubbled in my chest as I descended into Budapest subway.

While in Budapest, you absolutely must visit one of the thermal baths, the relaxing and soothing experience best after a long walk around the city.

I personally prefer the ones in Szechenyi Park because of the sheer scope and variety - inside the pavilions, under the open sky, cooling, warm, hot - whatever you heart desires. Just visiting one by one will take around 2 hours, so better come with some spare time on your hands.

I must say, the Hungarian capital was truly underestimated by me. I definitely plan on going back and add a couple more to-dos to my usual itinerary: visit the Opera, roam through the halls of National Gallery, have a slow stroll on Margaret Island, and taste much more local delicacies.

What to see:

Fisherman's Bastion

Matthias Church

Gellert Hill and the Citadella

Hungarian National Gallery at Buda Castle

Hungarian Parliament

Szechenyi Chain Bridge and its tongueless lions

Margit hid (Margaret Bridge)

Ruins of the Fransciscan church on Margaret Island

Szechenyi Thermal Bath

What to eat:

goulash (thick paprika soup/stew)

libamaj (goose liver)

fried duck

chicken paprikas with dumplings

halaszle (fish soup with paprika and tomato sauce)

langos (basically fast food)

kremes (cream cake)

somloi galuska (biscuit with custard)

chestnut puree

kurtoskalacs (vanilla and citrus pastry)

Tokay wine

palinka (fruit brandy)

Second Stop: Beograd, Serbia

View on the junction of Sava and Danube from Belgrade Fortress, Beograd, Serbia

First things first, a cry of pain to Serbian trains: they are immensely, unbelievably hideous. But such fun!

Truly, after Ukrainian railroads I believed I've seen it all - oh how thoroughly mistaken I was! The compartments are shabby and worn out, nearly everything is torn or broken, just on this side of usability, the wall facing the passageway is made of plexiglass delivering a (not so) beautiful view of your sleeping face to anyone happening to pass by. And the cherry on the top: they have four (which is standard for Ukraine and, I believe, most of Eastern European countries) and six (?!) seat compartments. Preordering the tickets, we were so curious that we couldn't miss the opportunity to travel in a six seat one (aside from it being slightly cheaper).

Three floors of the six-seat compartment on a Serbian train from Budapest

What it meant on practice was literally three floors. The first of which basically was a seat standing on the floor (when sitting, my knees were before my eyes), and the last had only around half a meter to the ceiling. Basically no storage place. It was truly scary sleeping both on and underneath these seats.

I keep wondering if we got lucky that the two middle seats were (obviously) non-functional, so we only had two other poor unfortunate souls to share this sorry excuse of a compartment. On the other hand, the experience was so bizarre and unique that I couldn't keep myself from laughing hysterically. Not sure any of my companions comprehended my mirth.

On the brighter note, Beograd is one of those cities that don't care the least for you as a tourist. One day is pretty much enough to see everything there is to see, the major attraction being, of course, the Belgrade Fortress with its rich history protecting the city (thus the clash of architectural styles), vast park area below leading your eye to the joint of Danube and Sava rivers, and quaint winding passages that lead to different courts, half-hidden castles and fortifications.

Beograd Fortress

Lost somewhere in its area, I caught this wonderfully serene moment of pre-summer heat hammering down the irregular stone-paved trails, deafening crickets and the dizzying smell of grasses and red poppies (that are all over the place, magical beyond belief).

The city shows itself. Walking from the fortress down Knez Mihailova Street, you find yourself at the National Museum. A little to the South, ruins left after the NATO bombing stay proud in the middle of the bustling city. And then there's the Cathedral of Saint Sava, quite the monumental construction to mark the grand aspirations of Serbian nation. It is one of the largest churches in the world, and one that is still being built, starting in 1935. That tells you something about the nation.

If you don't have much time, take the round tram #2 to see all the major sites in city center. You'll miss something, for sure, but it's a good way to start your acquaintance.

And don't forget to get yourself familiar with the people - they're quite the friendly type. My friend's shoe tore at the most inopportune moment, and we were looking for something that'd help keep it together. Asking in one of the shops where we could buy glue, the owner not only told us how to get to the closest place but he personally walked us there. At yet another instance, a woman we asked directions from spent quite some time (and probably missed her bus) to make sure we know how to get to the Cathedral of Saint Sava. Using Serbian and gestures; pure incomprehensible joy.

What to see:

Beograd Fortress

Knez Mihailova Street and the pedestrian area

Ruins of Yugoslav General Staff from 1999 NATO bombing

National Museum (with one if not the largest Impressionist painting collection in Europe)

St Mark's Church

Cathedral of Saint Sava

Church of Saint Alexander of Neva

What to eat:

cevapi/cevapcici (regional delicacy, variations met throughout the Balkans - basically grilled meat in flatbread with chopped onions)

kajmak (cheese)

Karadordeva snicla (meat stuffed with cheese)

sarma (meat rolled in sour cabbage leaves)

musaka (potato and meat casserole)

ajvar (vegetable side dish)

pljeskavica (meat in flatbread)

cvarci (fried pork rinds)

rakia (fruit brandy; do you start noticing patterns yet?)

Third Stop: Underground Train and First Glance at Montenegro

Ruins of Bedem Castle, Niksic, Montenegro

Unlike traditional tourists, we decided to take a whole day off sight-seeing to indulge in traveling at its utmost. Moreover, the whole detour to Serbia was solely for the purpose of catching this train: Beograd, Serbia to Bar, Montenegro. We wanted to get our hands and eyes on mountains as soon as possible - and boy, did we get our fill!

If you get a chance to travel from Belgrade to Montenegro by train, by all means do. You won't regret a moment of it.

Train Beograd, Serbia - Bar, Montenegro

Actually, before the trip, I had my doubts: spending the whole day sitting in train, with nothing but observing natural beauties for over 10 hours; I thought we'd be bored to death by the end of hour 2. I didn't factor in the underground traveling - all in all, after spending the lion's share of the trip counting and noting the time, our route amounted to nearly 200 tunnels and almost hour and a half under ground in Serbia alone.

The longest tunnel is nearly 5 km long. I even counted the speed of underground travel - approximately 15 mph, a lower speed due to the danger of high mountain travel. Curiously, in Montenegro, the speed in tunnels was considerably higher, even though we didn't manage to uncover the reason.

One more thing to note is the considerably higher quality of Montenegrin trains. Compared to that taking us from Budapest to Beograd, this was nearly comfortable. I don't know the reason, but air-con was only available in one carriage (coincidentally, the one we were in), and it wasn't shying away from its function. I was freezing by the end of hour one, and went out in search of something to warm up. In other carriages, people were clustering by the windows, catching air, vistas and smoking.

Smoking right under the sign 'Smoking prohibited'

Thus, I anchored myself in the buffet car (calling it 'restaurant' wouldn't do; they offered no food) with a permanent cup of coffee before me. This was my little yet unforgettable time - the amalgam of beautiful mountain ranges flashing by outside the window, hot coffee and a cozy book that I prudently brought along. Light chatter of the trainmen fought with cigarette smoke in the air, the rattling of the train creating snug and quaint ambiance.

We arrived to Podgorica after sunset. The first glance at Montenegro delivered the unique feeling of living on the roofs - the room we were staying at had an exit right near the red shingles of the neighbor house. While I was having cup of tea before bed, a woman casually strolled on top of the roof nearby to hang the clothes to dry.

Despite the status of the capital and the largest city in Montenegro, Podgorica more often that not creates the feeling of a medium-sized deeply provincial town. Hidden behind the mountainous hills, far from the seaside, the city doesn't enjoy the influx of tourists during summer seasons but also boasts a warmer climate in winter.

And so we followed the route inland, leaving the Adriatic for the last part of our journey. My friend, the terrifyingly stubborn woman, woke me up at 4 in the morning to catch the train to Ostrog.

If I was to advise for Ostrog, I would not. And I'm unlikely to repeat the experience in the future.

Ostrog, Montenegro

That was one of a hellish trip for me - high up in the mountain, hides a Christian Orthodox church shrine. Sounds better than it is in reality. Well. It does look nice, I must admit - the chambers cut out in the sheer rock and all. But I'd argue not worth the effort put in.

Given I'm not religious and a late-sleeper, the way up the mountain trail early in the morning thoroughly irritated me. My mood didn't better at seeing how the 'religious' folks arrived right by the entrance in buses and cars - the hypocritical bastards. I guess we had a fight with my friend, who is much more loyal toward Christian religion and keeping faces. The things we give away.

Besides, the timing was really off - the vistas from high up the mountain are pretty bland early in the morning. The angle of the sun was just not right. The whole place in the morning looks like a refugee camp, with dirty mats and plaids for those willing to spend the chilly night on the monastery grounds. The whole place feels weird.

Camping outside the Ostrog monastery, 900 m above sea level

I was much more cheerful as we were leaving the damned-- I mean, sacred place.

By this time, we were at our basic premise: high in the mountains, half an hour by car to our interim destination, several hours before anything goes the way we need,  and a choice between astonishingly hideous weather and heavy backpacks. There was that trip to Crete where we were basically blind and death from the wind, cursing the moment we decided to go through the mountains on foot.

Our fallback is hitch-hiking fellow travelers to take pity on us and give us a lift. This time, we were picked up by a nice couple from Belarus who brought us right to Niksic. Unexpectedly, the city appeared more interesting than we imagined. I loved the ruins of the local castle. At one moment, the atmosphere was distinctly medieval - the lush green pastures outside the half-preserved walls, the grey grim limestone and delicate, full of color flowerheads taking over the reign in this place. That glimpse of centuries long gone sent a shiver down my spine, and was gone as fast as it appeared.

Bedem castle, Niksic

Today, the castle ruins serve as a concert hall for the local youth - naturally, the larger part of the stone is covered in graffiti, and we've met a couple of sturdy young boys at the foot of the castle, unloading what looked like heavy sound equipment boxes. We had to sacrifice half a bottle of water as an entrance fee.

After an ice-cream and a meditation over the neat and apparently old cemetery, we headed for the bus station to catch a ride to Sarajevo. And, oh, did our adventures only begin!

The same way as I was rumbling about Serbian trains - one should be aware of the buses in Montenegro.

The worst part? Not enough seats. The bus we got was tiny, more like a minivan. We were forced to take our bags inside and to stand the whole way to Bosnia (2.5 hours to the border, same to Sarajevo). I wasn't even trying, sitting down in the aisle as soon as we started off. I got through the first hour alright, catching a casual conversation with a guy from Albania sitting beside me. And then the air stopped circulating (at least where I was sitting), and I don't remember most of the way to the Bosnian border.

I got a seat somewhere along the ride. When we arrived in Sarajevo, I was so tired that it was nearly blissful - I don't think I was the slightest bit worried when we got the message from our to-be host that we couldn't be accommodated at their place that night. Fortunately, we caught decent free Wi-Fi in the middle of the Bosnian capital. Last thing I actually remember from that day is reconciling with my friend over the religious matters and thinking before falling into darkness that nothing could surprise me during this trip anymore.

Descending the Ostrog mountain, panorama dipped in morning haze

What to see:

Sahat kula, Podgorica (clock tower)

Ostrog (take this up at your own risk, and, by gods, do not go on foot, you won't be getting out)

Church of Sv Vasilje, Niksic

Bedem castle, Niksic

What to eat:

prshut (dried meat)

cevapcici

pleskavitsa/roshtil (fried and grilled meat)

sopsky salat (vegetable salad with cheese)

ribla chorba (fish soup)

Negusi cheese

meat burek with yogurt

sarma

Vranac (red wine) and Krstach (white wine)

Niksicko beer

desserts: baklava, tulumba, shampita, vanilice, padobranci

Fourth Stop: Two Pearls of Bosnia and Herzegovina

Breakfast at panorama over Sarajevo, Ispod Grada, Bosnia and Herzegovina

For Sarajevo, I was really hyped even before the trip. The primary reason was, of course, the history of this place. Point of focus: the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand and his wife Sophie triggering World War I. Time: June 28, 1914, 10 in the morning. Place: Latin Bridge.

As I was fangirling over the epic episode, I should also mention the sheer delight of this city. Sarajevo is filled with the distinctly Turkish ambiance (visiting Istanbul three months prior, I could not ignore the similarities between the two cities) - and yet it's a European capital. It has the tiny street teahouses with old men chatting and smoking their days away, muezzins shouting early in the morning, heavily clothed women and bubbling Eastern bazaars. But it also has eclectic architecture, Mediterranean cobbled streets flowing down the mountainous hills to the Miljacka river, and 15th to 19th century Christian churches. Starting at the White Fortress crowning the city, we roamed down the winding streets to the river bank, than had a real breakfast in the labyrinth of Bascarsija (I'm ashamed I still cannot pronounce that) and then made a stop for coffee at Cajdzinica Dzirlo.

Cajdzinica Dzirlo and it's host

I don't usually give personal opinions of places to eat - they change to fast, and TripAdvisor still does it better. But this one is the number and a renown site of its own - people who know Sarajevo will surely know this little teahouse in the city center. Take all the best things you want during your tea/coffee time, and you get this place.

Splendid drinks with plenty of choice. Ambiance and atmosphere supported by great view. Perfect location near Bascarsija. Most welcoming, authentic and fun host.

You feel as the dearest of friends not a random tourist. This place is a must for a perfect trip. I'd come back to Bosnia just to visit here again.

Besides, it's here that I fell in love with Bosnian coffee (a direct take-away from the Turkish coffee of the Ottoman Empire). I was already fond of the Turkish way to drink black thick coffee. In Bosnia, it is served with a sweet refreshing sherbet (ideally; more commonly, it's a glass of cold water) and a bite of Turkish delight on the side - perfect combination for a hot day.

As a side attraction, I learned how to serve and drink Bosnian coffee. Coffee is made in cezve and served along with another cezve of hot water. First comes adding the water to the coffee and some light stirring. Then coffee creme is carefully gathered from the top and put in the kahve finjani, a tiny porcelain cup in a metal stand. Coffee is poured in afterwards, resulting in a cup of strong, fragrant and relaxing marvel. A sip of coffee is alternated with a gulp of sherbet - I don't think I ever had a better drink.

Combined with the elevated view of the city center and the flocks of pigeons pirouetting around the roofs, this was the experience that ultimately summed up Sarajevo and this whole vacation for me. Yet the Bosnian adventures continued. Walking around the city and gaping at the listed attractions, we were caught in a dreadful storm. It rolled down the mountain tops in low black clouds, rumbling and growling as a wild animal and then pouring down in ice beads the size of a fingernail.

Latin Bridge before the storm ensued

Me and my friend, we have this weird thing we do on the photos, arms and legs spread around in a semblance of a six-pointed star. We do that once per every new city we visit, and, due to the plan, Latin Bridge was the designated site for Sarajevo. We failed spectacularly though, taking cover from the hailstorm on the tram stop for nearly half an hour.

As the storm subsided and turned into regular heavy rain, we plodded through the streets, knee-deep in murky, chalky, coffee-and-milk colored water, ultimately happy. The traffic was hideous, we missed our train, wet head to toe (I literally poured water out of my shoes) - yet I don't remember a better time from this trip. Besides, we caught the best cevapcici near the bus station - and they were prepared lighting-fast, we were shocked at the speed. Sitting in the bus (finally comfortable) taking us to Mostar, we were languidly enjoying the slack feeling of being prepared for anything coming our way.

Mostar old town and Stari most, view from the minaret of Koski Mehmed Pasina mosque

If you get a chance to walk around Mostar at nighttime, enjoy the lightwork, the cozy streets and the coolness of the evenings near Neretva.

Compared to Sarajevo, Mostar is tiny, one of those exclusively tourist destinations that have one major attraction, a couple of minor sites and plenty of ambiance beckoning huge crowds year after year. In a way, it resembles Kazimierz Dolny but with the whimsical quirk of Turkish and Southern European minutiae framing the singular character of the town.

Naturally, the crowds flock on and around the Old bridge, the main site of Mostar. As for me, the narrow painfully cobbled streets (do try to wear shoes with thicker soles) outcharmed the bridge.

Neretva river and panorama of Mostar from Koski Mehmed Pasina mosque's minaret

There is a choice of cozy hidden gems: the Crooked bridge is less famous but instead drowning in greenery. The beach under the Old bridge gives the ability to dip your feet into Neretva (the water is freezing, we nearly got cramps while hastily taking photos - but it's clear and wonderfully refreshing under the blazing sun). The garden of the Koski Mehmed Pasina mosque offers enchantingly picturesque view of the river and small houses under red roofs, transforming the town into an artist's paradise.

It's also possible to get up the minaret of Koski Mehmed Pasina mosque, an activity I believed to be forbidden for non-muezzins, non-Muslims and (even more so) females. The spinning stairs inside the minaret are entertainingly narrow, the balcony on top offers a grand view. And the mere fact of being in a half-prohibited place was enough to pleasantly tickle the nerves and positively reinforce the experience.

What to see in Sarajevo:

Bljela tabija (White fortress)

Zuta tabija (Yellow fortress)

City Hall

Latin Bridge

Bascarsija

Sebilj

Old Orthodox Church

Cathedral of Jesus' Heart

Orthodox Cathedral

Gazi Husrev Bey' Mosque and Bezistan

Taslihan

Lunar clock

Old Synagogue (Museum of the Jews of Bosnia and Herzegovina)

What to see in Mostar:

Stari most (Old bridge)

Crooked bridge

Koski Mehmed Pasina dzamija

Karadoz-begova dzamija

Mostar Peace Bell tower

What to eat:

cevapi

meat under sac (veal or lamb cooked under special lid)

cufte (meatballs)

duvec (vegetable stew)

drasak (pea stew)

ajvar

somun (flatbread)

ustipci (fried dough balls)

Bosnian coffee (and I cannot stress this enough!)

salep

serbe (sherbet)

ajran (salty yogurt drink)

Fifth Step: Dubrovnik, Croatia

The walls of Dubrovnik, Croatia

Dubrovnik is another historic town heavy on tourists, and for a good reason: it's gorgeous. The beauty of city walls unparalleled, Dubrovnik is truly the pearl of the Adriatic sea. The preservation of the old town is worthy of praise, on par with old Tallinn. But that's it - talking about Croatian people, they're quite the unwelcoming type.

To get from Mostar to Dubrovnik, one has to cross the Bosnian-Croatian border tree times. In and out, and in again, and all in just under two hours. And the border guards stamp your passport every time.

The tension of Croatians runs high. From our hostess to most waiters, locals don't seem friendly at all - a surprising fact given the contagious amicability of Bosnians. The prices in Dubrovnik are also considerably higher while coffee is considerably worse (although, to tell the truth, after Bosnia, every cup of coffee I had was so-so at best).

Yet, despite the ranting, Dubrovnik truly is a city with its own character. The first impression was: stairs. The whole Balkan region is like that, built on the hillsides, streets narrow and oftentimes only suited for pedestrians. Dubrovnik is the quintessence of the concept. The hills it is built on are indented with stair-streets, and the road for cars winds and twists, curling in circles through the city like a giant snake. To get from point A to point B, it is easier to clamber up the stairs. Besides, one gets all the best views that way.

Stradun with the belltower of Franciscan monastery, Dubrovnik, Croatia

The old town is enchanting. The narrow streets tightened in the restrains of smooth stone are cool and soothing at sunset. Dark green shutters emphasize the rhythm of the delicate houses. Our early evening in Dubrovnik was drowning in pinkish haze, enchanting and amorous, and the screams of seagulls cluttered up the slowly darkening skies.

The city was built by Venetians, the fact completely obvious to anyone remotely acquainted with architecture. Lacking the tell-tale canals, Dubrovnik instead becomes the labyrinth of tiny streets, a photographer's wet dream at every turn. Stradun, the major street, is full of tourists, day or night, but the back streets are shatteringly quiet as the night falls, almost to the point of feeling haunted.

Panorama of Dubrovnik from city walls: red roofs and Franciscan belltower

The city transforms by the daytime. The blistering sun reflects from the smooth surfaces of the white stone and hits you from all sides: it truly is scorchingly hot. The city walls bring no relief; even the sea breeze is but a short refreshment.

A hat, a bottle of water and a sunscreen are obligatory items on the walls of Dubrovnik anytime from April to October.

But oh the vistas the minute details! Walking around the whole old town and observing how it was built and how it lives from the height of the walls, one is immersed in the history of the relationship between Venetians, this great seapower, and the Balkan region, the focus of their constant conflicts with the Turks. Catching glimpses of inner yards and narrow streets, it is easy to imagine how people lived several centuries ago - as it seems nothing changed much.

The city walls are full of tourists, naturally; a different experience is provided by fort Lovrijenac to the west of the city. Not only it gives a different perspective of Dubrovnik, but is also more spacious as a fortification and is closer to nature (the gorge under its walls lets the imagination run free and create hidden grottoes and caves full of wonders, treasures and sunken ships).

Dubrovnik is surely a city one must visit. If time permits, it's good to have a swim in the Adriatic sea, enjoy the famous Croatian beaches, get up to the fortress on the top of the hill to catch a glimpse of the whole city, and indulge in the rich history. But overstaying your visit is not wise when the much more hospitable Montenegro is just in a couple of hours drive down the coast.

What to see:

old town

St Francis church

Large Onofrio's Fountain

Dominican monastery

crkva Svetog Spasa

Sponza Palace

Orlandov stup

Mala Onofrijeva Fontana

Rector's Palace

St Blaise church

St Ignatius church

Church of the Annunciation

city walls (Bokar, Minceta, Saint John, Buza gate)

Fort Lovrijenac

Lokrum island

Carska tvrdava

What to eat:

raznjici (meat skewers)

zagrebacki odrezak (stuffed veal steak)

lignje (squid)

salata od hobotnice (octopus salad)

crni rizot (cuttlefish risotto)

manestra (soup)

zganci (polenta)

palacinke (crepes)

rozata (creme cake)

Malvazija (dessert wine)

Coming Back to Montenegro

Crkva Svete Klare/Svetog Antuna, Kotor, Montenegro

Planning the trip, it's important to have calm days mixed into the mass of those full of mad activity.

Herceg Novi was our first in the row of more relaxing experiences, a good choice with its lush green streets cascading down the mountain to the Bay of Kotor and the quaint atmosphere of a pre-tourist season. A comparatively young city, it still bears the scars of Venetian dominion, flaunting the old fortress, dark and grey and heavy over the light touristy air of the coast resort.

According to the newly established tradition, I got a day off the trip to catch up with my friend from work who moved with his family to Herceg Novi couple of years back. The rest of the two days were submerged in a daze of slow breakfasts, warm days that tasted like strawberry and tepid waves licking away the tiredness of the feet.

What to see in Herceg Novi:

Citadella

Forte Mare

Crkva Svetog Jeronima

Church of Holy Archangel Michael

Sahat Kula

Kanli Kula

Kotor old town, view of the Fort of St John

For the next day, we picked our speed up, cramming in Kotor and Tivat, and a circle trip around the Bay of Kotor. I still have my regrets about not being able to make a stop in Perast and pay respects to the famous island Our Lady of the Rocks.

The good thing about Kotor is that, although there are many things to see, they are all clustered together (like old well-preserved towns tend to do) - you only need a day to see it all. The only exception is the Fort of St John - probably the main attraction of Kotor, not counting the old town itself.

The streets of Kotor old town

The popularity of this place is primarily based on three things: its age (including historic and militaristic value starting from VI century), the magnificent views it gives from the top over the Bay of Kotor, and its sheer size (it's one of the most significant fortifications of this type in Europe, with 4.5 km long walls).

Kotor may lack the posh sumptuousness of Dubrovnik and the green curvy coziness of Mostar. Yet it is definitely its own thing, a small intimately built town in the clutches of grey stone with sultry air of tiny squares with towering churches and cathedrals, with palaces on every step - Kotor feels like a museum.

What to see in Kotor:

Gurdic Gate (South Gate)

St Triphun's Cathedral

The Drago Palace

The Pima Palace

The Buca Palace

The Palace Bizanti

The Sea Gate with the Tower of Town Guards

The Clock Tower

Duke Palace

Arsenal Building

Crkva Svete Klare/Svetog Antuna

Crkva Sv Nikole

Crkva Sv Luke

Crkva Sv Mihaila

Karampana

The Grgurina Palace

Crkva Sv Ana

Svete Marije Koledate

North Gate

Kotor's Castle of San Giovanni

Church of Our Lady of Health

Fort of St John

Dancing Girl Statue with a view of Old Budva

We spent the night in nearby Tivat - not a historic but resort destination, a city full of luxurious hotels and yachts shimmering off the competing degrees of splendor. As the high season didn't start yet, the city was immersed in a sluggish slumber.

Budva, on the other hand, as the major tourist hub of Montenegro, was boiling and lively, offering a bit of everything. UNESCO-protected old town neighbored fashionable boutiques and giant malls. Quay was full of restaurants offering meats and seafoods of all sorts, narrow streets of old town offered cozier cafes and confectioneries. The beaches, both in-town and on the close-by 'Hawaii' island, beckon with warm transparent water and hidden caverns ready for relaxation or exploration.

The old town of Budva is comparatively small. Half a day is enough to explore it - but the best part about it is the many cozy back streets, dead ends and cubbies that tell their small stories and beckon you to rest and observe the world around.

There is a small street that always has cats pooling under one of the windows - obviously a feeding place. An inner yard of Citadela features a cafe under bright white umbrellas - the perfect combination with old stone, deep blue sea and the green vines to create the true Mediterranean feel. One of the buildings has an old library turned posh restaurant with displayed models of the famous ships.

I've found my favorite cozy little place on the thick wall of the old town near Ricardova Glava beach. A small square surrounded by churches used for concerts and often featuring weddings. A quaint corner of the earth that caught my attention as a street musician was lightly plucking guitar strings for a mellow, sweetly sorrowful melody interweaving into the song of the wind. I go back in my memories to that place - hot crude stone behind my back, sun and seagulls over my head, and fresh warm breeze in my face.

The second day was completely dedicated to exploring the beaches of Budva. The beaches of the tourist zone are sandy; the old town has pebbles.

One of the beaches on Hawaii island, Budva

Seeing Ricardova Glava for the first time, the scene catches one off guard: people are bathing in the clear waters of Adriatic sea right under the rough walls of the church dating back to 840 AD built of darkened pebbles and whitened mortar, battered by time and seawinds. The narrow walk from Ricardova Glava to Mogren beaches conceals a set of hidden gems - from Dancing Girl Statue (one of the symbols of Budva) to the rugged, indented mountain walls on one side and the rocky coast on the other, open-air vista of the sea and Hawaii island, leading to the ambitious route over the rocks and boulders to yet another viewpoint of the city.

And then there's the Hawaii island. Boats take turns to drop off locals and tourists alike on the island full of beaches suited for every taste, with cozy lagoons and hidden grottos.

Best to take the boat that makes a detour to Sveti Stefan - the most luxurious island in the vicinity of Budva, completely covered in medieval red-roofed white-stoned houses and requiring a permit just to get in, people roaming from the coast to the town walls during low tides.

What to see in Budva:

old town

Citadela

Ruins of a Roman church

St Jean Baptist church

Church of the Holy Trinity

Church built in 840 AD

Former St Sara church

Poet plaza

Roman grave

Ricardova Glava (beach)

Dancing Girl Statue

Mogren beaches

Hawaii (island of Sv Nikolai)

Crkva Sv Nikolai (Hawaii)

island of Sveti Stefan

Zipline near Durdevica Tara Bridge, Montenegro

Our last day was decided beforehand.

Everyone going to Montenegro advises to take a tour of Tara canyons. True, the nature is absolutely worth seeing - although I'd prefer taking my time at certain places not rushing as the guided tours do.

I don't know if it's typical of this mountainous region, but that day was rainy, getting us wet from time to time. Durmitor actually got me soaked through to my bones - it's usually chilly here, and the rain made its contribution. But the nature is breathtaking - the dark, nearly black pines, the incredible ravines of rugged sharp stones and brash winds, the sweeping rivers of boiling, madly foaming water, the weak bushes clinging to the tiniest cracks and crevices, and gradually fading off to give way to the bare rocks precipitously piercing the high skies.

Zipline across the Durdevica Tara Bridge actually allowed to experience the void first-hand.

Tara canyon, Montenegro

Forget the 'short line is as good as the long one'. No it's not. It's short - meaning that it takes nearly half of your time on the zipline away from you.

The first moment was quite scary due to the push at the back I got from one of the guys who geared me up - but the anxious thoughts of my-god-there's-five-hundred-feet-of-nothing-under-me were almost immediately swept out of my head by the sheer rapture of damn-I'm-flying-and-it's-so-beautiful. That's something to experience by yourself, no one will be able to translate it to you accurately.

The final adventure was as unexpected as it was welcomed. Summer snow is an occurrence I've never yet experienced in my life - that is, before this trip. Hail is not that common but it happens from time to time (there's one in my memory from when I was around 7, where the hails were the size of a child's fist). But the one we encountered on our way back from the Montenegrin black forests was unprecedented - not only it was accompanied by strong wind and showers but also covered the ground in freezing white blanket, the strangest sight among the rich, plentiful wild greens. The trip back was soothing and distressing at once, with the soft rocking of the comfortable bus on the winding mountain roads and the rapid rapping of hail over the roof.

Big Finale

The Hawaii Beach, Budva, Montenegro

Coming back to Kiev, I was firm in my belief: best trips happen when you plan everything yourself, encounter a bunch of weird and fun adventures and meet challenges head-on. This Balkan tour reconciled me with my turbulent self: the bad things, the good things - it's worth saluting everything that comes our way. What's a trip without obstacles; what's a trip that tells you nothing about yourself, people you travel with and world around you? Cheers!

[bulgarianmermaid]

Nicaragua is known as “The Land of Lakes and Volcanoes” due to the large number of lagoons, freshwater lakes, and volcanos in the country. Today, only 7 of the 50 volcanoes are considered active, yet Nicaragua is one of the ONLY places in the world where you can safely peak into the crater of an active volcano and see red lava flowing at Masaya or go volcano boarding on black sand at Cerro Negro outside Leon.

The chain of volcanoes that runs from north to south along the country’s Pacific Coast is part of the infamous “Ring of Fire” that skirts Asia, Alaska and the Pacific Coast of the Americas where most earthquakes and volcanos are concentrated nowadays.

Many of these volcanoes and lagoons offer great opportunities for tourists to hike, climb, paddle, and swim. In a week full of adventures I was not only able to improve my surfing with the help of Rapture’s  superb instructors but I also went on a couple of day trips and saw 4 volcanos (Masaya, Mombacho, Concepcion, Maderas) 2 of which active (Masaya and Concepcion) and swam in a couple of crater lakes heated naturally from the magma underneath (freaky indeed!!!). Tour guide, transportation, and itinerary courtesy of the incredible team at Rapture Nicaragua! (I can’t recommend them high enough!)

Before we get lost down cobblestoned streets in old colonial towns, let’s explore Nicaragua’s incredible nature! The Nicaraguan jungles are considered the lungs of Central America and comprise the second largest rainforest in the Americas. There are currently 78 protected areas in Nicaragua or about 17% of its landmass. The bull shark (aka “Nicaragua shark”) is a species that can survive for an extended period of time in fresh water. It can be found in Lake Nicaragua and the San Juan River. It it the ONLY shark that lives in fresh water where it stays for a max of 90 days to breed. While it breeds it doesn’t feed so you can swim at leisure in Lake Nicaragua and not worry. The other “friendly” animal in the water is the cayman – same breeding and behavioral habits apply so don’t worry about them either 🙂 DO worry about snakes, everywhere.

The Apoyo Lagoon Natural Reserve was created by the eruption of the Apoyo Volcano about 23,000 years ago, which left a huge crater that gradually filled with water. It is the largest volcanic lagoon in Nicaragua and swimming in the volcanic crater lake is a must, water is warm and crystal clear and full of minerals. (Yes, you can go in naked 🙂 For the more adventurous there is scuba diving taking you to great depths of the crater.

  Masaya is an active volcano with a gaping crater where you can see red lava flowing at night 500m under the surface of the Earth. Mother Nature left me quite speechless there (yes, me 🙂  and I quietly enjoyed the random stories told by the local Park Ranger about the history of the volcano, the changes in the lava flow, and the creation of the National Park. Lava sounds like ocean waves, moves like water, bubbles up like a hot spring, and flows like a river… Do allow time before sunset to visit the Museum at the bottom of the hill so you can learn more about volcanic activity and the Ring of Fire.

  On your way to Masaya ask your guide about Diriomo, known as the last city of witches in Nicaragua. Witchcraft is done only on Fridays and only by natives.

  Granada was the first European “city” in mainland America preserving some of the finest colonial architecture in Nicaragua. Granada maintained a flourishing commerce with ports on the Atlantic Ocean through Lake Nicaragua and the San Juan River. It has been a victim of many invasions from pirates sailing up the same route. The town is still very romantic and stunningly beautiful and has so much history, museums, and hidden alleyways to explore. Allow for a couple of days in Granada to leisurely walk down cobblestoned streets, take pictures of colorful facades, enter lush inner courts and ride in horse-drawn carriages.

  Many centuries ago Mombacho volcano blew most of its cone into the lake, forming the 365 Isletas de Granada (small volcanic rock islands spewed into the lake). Hiking up to the crater of Mombacho is an increasingly popular tourist activity as the volcano has fantastic views of Lake Nicaragua and the city of Granada. The hike is not difficult, just allow plenty of time, wear proper shoes, and carry enough water. The last eruption of Mombacho occurred in 1570 and somehow spared Granada.

  Don’t miss lunch at The Garden Cafe! It received international recognition in the NYTimes as one of the must-visit restaurants in Central America and relax in their hidden garden. Afterwards visit the Museo de Cacao and peak into the Cacao Mansion behind it. Learn about cocoa production in Central America, do an elaborate tasting of their many goods, grab a drink by the pool or indulge in a chocolate spa treatment.

  After chocolate come cigars. The Cigar Museum is housed in an imposing building where you can discover why Nicaraguan cigars are on par with Cuban (if not better) and significantly cheaper! At 330pm climb to the top of the bell tower of the oldest church in Granada (Iglesia de Merced) for the daily ring of the bells and fantastic views of the city, Lake Nicaragua and the volcanos. Peek into the barber shop on the opposite corner for a very authentic experience.

    Rapture Surfcamps Nicaragua is located in Playa Maderas a few kilometers outside of San Juan del Sur. Known as Nicaragua’s “sin city” San Juan is the place you go to party should you have any strength left after surfing. Drinks are cheap and the rum is strong!

  One of the landmarks to visit in San Juan del Sur is the statue of Jesus de la Misericordia. It is a steep 30-min walk up to the statue but you are rewarded with the best views. Get there between 5-6pm to catch both the daylight over the bay and the sunset to the West. The statue is a “Thank You note” for the restored health of an elderly gentleman. The funny story behind the statue is that Jesus’s hands are turned up as if he is shrugging his shoulders and giving up on the sinners below him (Sin City remember ;-).

If you’d like to add turtle watching to your itinerary, a good place is Playa del Coco where you can go swimming, fishing, and see the turtles at La Flor Wildlife Refuge. Horseback riding at sunset can be arranged at Playa Maderas, the animals are well fed and cared for and the guide will come pick you up straight from Rapture Surfcamp.

  Last but not least on my Nicaragua itinerary was La Isla de Ometepe – a tribute trip to my late Grandma who would always ask me for the name of the largest lake in Nicaragua when solving crosswords.

  Ometepe Island consists of 2 volcanos in the middle of Lake Nicaragua connected by a narrow black sand beach. You can visit the main attractions on the island in 2 days, but stay an extra night if you are planning to hike a volcano, you’ll need a full day just for that (and a local guide!!!). Concepcion is active and last erupted in 2009, Maderas is dormant and its crater is a forested lake now. If you decide to climb Maderas, allow yourself 8-10 hrs and hire a local guide. It is easy to get lost, trails are not well marked and you wouldn’t know how to avoid dangers in the jungle.

  Ometepe Island has very fertile soil thanks to the ash spewn by the volcanos. You will notice men walking around carrying machetes everywhere…you never know when you’ll have to cut a banana or a coconut. Plantains and mangos are Ometepe’s main export not only to Nicaragua but to the whole Central America.

Ojo de Agua was my first stop after getting off the 1hr ferry ride across Lake Nicaragua. It is a natural spring resort in the middle of the jungle famous for its healing waters and the lush nature that surrounds it.

  Next we went for “lunch” to El Pital – an organic cocoa farm and chocolate paradise – where you MUST try the Magic Ball special. El Pital also offers aerial yoga in their open air temple in the middle of the jungle, raw cacao ceremonies, amazing super foods and smoothies, paddle board rentals and a private beach to swim in Lake Nicaragua.

“Life is too short, eat dessert first.”

  For the afternoon I recommend kayaking in Lake Nicaragua and up the Rio Istian which connects the west to the east coast of the island. Book a guided trip from Caballitos Mar to observe wildlife and watch the sunset on your paddle back (for the girls reading this, ask for the boat to tow the kayaks to the river, otherwise your arms will fall off).

  Before you head to dinner and find your lodging for the night, book a horseback ride with Harris Horses for next morning to take you up to Cascada de San Ramon waterfall. I recommend spending the night at Casa del Bosque for an authentic but super comfortable and luxurious “finca” experience. Grab dinner and “ron” at Cafe Campestre in Balgue beforehand (same owners).

  Cascada de San Ramon is a 180m waterfall where you should be ready to walk deep into the jungle and hop over boulders up a dry river bed to get to your final destination. If you are lucky enough you’ll be rewarded with an empty site where you can bathe naked under a freezing cold waterfall in the steaming hot jungle.

  During your horseback ride you will also see the nahuatl statues and petroglyphs on the north west side of Volcano Maderas dating back to 300 AD. You can even swim in Lake Nicaragua with the horses – once in a lifetime experience with fantastic animals and a very friendly guide.

  Before you board the ferry back to the mainland, stop by Punta Jesus Maria for sunset. It is the westernmost point of Ometepe Island and depending on the season and the water level in the lake, the slick of sand can go on for miles.

  Nicaragua – The Land of Lakes and Volcanos Nicaragua is known as “The Land of Lakes and Volcanoes” due to the large number of lagoons, freshwater lakes, and volcanos in the country.

[diasporadreams]

Hi so I know you were only there for a week lol but I’m planning a trip to NY in a few months and I have nooo idea what to expect. I’ve actally never been in the country either and I’m pretty much going off of movies and tv. I figured I’d ask you first just bc I trust your opinion and I’ve been following you for a long time. Did you have an favourite places you went or sites? Like what was your overall experience like. Thanks

hi!! i had been once before when i was like 16 but thats ages ago but i enjoyed it a lot both times!! idk where you’re from but i’m from a very tiny country (my hometown is the size of central park) so everything there is just so HUGE from the buildings to the mcdonalds servings jdfkghfjkdh and this may sound cliche but i really love all the touristy bits like.. im always happy to walk around times square during the day when it’s super crowded but i do recommend getting a rainbow vanilla cone at 4am and just sit down and enjoy it in relative silence.. almost therapeutic lol. if you like heights i would say go up rockefeller center (top of the rock) and it will give you an amazing view of the city. you can also go up the empire state building but i prefer top of the rock (also cheaper and we love that)! also definitely get the ferry to liberty island! a return ticket is only $18,50 and you can get off at liberty island and ellis island. when you get off on liberty island you can walk around the statue of liberty and like visit the little shop thingy that’s inside but you can’t climb up. if u wanna do that i suggest you book way in advance because we looked for tickets on the day and it was sold out until october kjdsfhgkjsdh ALSO!!!! please if you have the money for it go to a broadway show!! even if youre not into musicals theres a lot of non musical plays you can choose from AND if ur lucky at stage door after the show u can meet the actors! me and my friend went to boys in the band and met matt bomer and zachary quinto and some other ppl and it was incredible! between the MET and the MOMA i would definitely say go to the MET!!! moma is just modern art but if youre into that then you should obviously go but there is a lot more variety in the MET and when we went the heavenly bodies exhibition was still on and its truly incredible!! and i think a ticket to the met will give you entry for two or three days so if you can’t cover everything in one day you can just come back the next! im also an astrology nerd so i went to the natural history museum on my own and saw a show at the hayden planetarium (WITH neil degrasse tyson!!) and had an amazing time. it’s literally situated next to central park so two birds one stone. central park is quite big and i get not wanting or having the time to walk through the whole thing but i would definitely recommend going to the strawberry fields bit it’s very beautiful! another really nice park is the high line that’s like.. built on an old railroad and it’s such a nice lil peaceful thing in the middle of the busy city. its free and open til 11pm you should watch the sun go down over the hudson river!! omg also the brooklyn bridge, she’s iconic of course! and i rly liked bryant park as well and tbh... one of my favourite places was the cafe at barnes and nobles in union square park  lol on my last night i just sat there on my own for a few hours and just felt rly blessed i even made friends with a stranger! ummm thats all i can think of right now from the top of my head lol but come back later and i might have remembered more but yeah i was there for just a week and spent two nights at madison square garden for harrys shows too so theres still sooo many things that i wanted to do but didnt have time for so i might come with u when u go   

[empressdrega27]

Allergies

 WHATUP MY DUDES?! IT’S TIME FOR ANOTHER ONESHOT! This one was requested by https://awesomea353.tumblr.com/ (it wouldn’t let me tag you :/) 

Prompt: Reader has never been to New York, but is a long time friend of Nicky’s, she’s like his older sister. When she arrives in New York, Nicky’s ecstatic and insists she visit the museum, since she’a a history nerd. She goes to the museum and meets Ahk, but forgets her dust allergy in the excitement.

 Enjoy!

Long plane rides are the worst. You don't think a truer fact has ever been spoken. You had just completed one such plane ride and were thoroughly done with the whole experience. You had taken a flight from your hometown to New York City to visit your long time friend, Nick Daley. You had met him through various video game servers, and had become fast friends.

 Though now, he was more like a little brother than anything. You cared about him deeply, so when he practically begged you to come visit him, you couldn't refuse. And so, you had scheduled a round trip flight to the big apple. You'd just arrived and so far New York was...... big.

 And really loud!

  Did Nicky tell you it'd be this loud? Probably not. Well, it was too late to turn back now! On you went, through the airport to find you cheeky little bro. He and his father had insisted that you stay with them (well Nicky insisted, his father, not so much) to save money. They were easy enough to find, and soon the three of you were on your  way to the Daley residence.

"So, what are we gonna be doing while I'm here?", You asked.

"We're gonna hang out at my dad's job, he works at the Natural History museum."

Your eyes lit up. You loved history, and getting to stay at a museum as long as you wanted? Now that made the stupid plane ride worth it.

"No way! How long can we stay?", You asked, practically vibrating with excitment.

Nicky grinned, "As long as we want! Dad's the night guard, so we'll be there all night."

You could barely contain your excitment. Not only did you get to stay at the museum all night, you'd have it all to yourself, for the most part anyways.

"I can't wait!", you exclaimed.

Nicky smiled at your excitement. You already thought that the museum was cool, but you didn't know just how cool it really was. He couldn't wait to see your face when all the exhibits came to life. And he could think of a certain Pharaoh who would be interested to meet you too.

    Soon it was time to go, and boy were you psyched! The drive to the museum wasn't that long, and you got an excellent view of central park along the way. You'd have to go visit the park later, if you had time that is. As Larry (he cringed when you called him Mr. Daley and told you to call him Larry) pulled into his space near the cargo doors, you couldn't help but stare at the massive building before you. There were museums in your hometown, sure, but nothing like this. 

You wondered vaguely how many of your city halls would fit into this museum. It'd take you at least three days to explore the whole thing, which was perfect because you were here for a week. Larry unlocked the door and you all filed in from the cold New York air. You weren't really bothered by the cold, it was spring and summer that caused you the most trouble.

 You had a lot of allergies, namely to pollen, dander, and dust. It wasn't life threatening, but it did make you sneeze uncontrollably and made your eyes swell shut. Luckily, you'd learned to bring allergy meds with you wherever you went, just in case.

  It was about 5:45 and you were wandering around the entrance hall of the museum. You read about Teddy Roosevelt and how he helped to make the museum what it was today. He had a cool horse too. 

  Larry and Nicky had told you to stay in the entrance hall, so you did. I'd be incredibly rude to disregard their wishes. You looked at your watch and saw that the time was now 5:59, and just as the clock struck six, the floor shook. You heard an odd noise. It sounded like, rattling bones? You looked up and came face to face with a skeletal t-rex.

  Your eyes widened and you sucked in a breath and held it. The massive bony thing seemed to be smelling you, which should be impossible on account of how it had no sinuses. Or lungs. OR FLESH OF ANY KIND.

"Down Rexy!", a voice called. You saw Nicky running towards you with a remote controled car following behind.

The skeleton ("Rexy" apparently), immediately turned to Nicky and started wagging it's massive tail. Like a huge dog. What was happening right now?

"Sorry about that. He didn't know there'd be a visitor", Nicky scratched Rexy's chin.

"It was supposed to be a surprise. For everyone. But it didn't go like we thought it would", he rubbed the back of his neck.

"What, the giant dinosaur that was about to eat me wasn't part of your plan?", you snarked.

Nicky looked away, "We were supposed to be here, with you. It'd be a huge reveal and you'd meet everyone........ *sigh* I'm sorry."

"Hey, it's okay. I just wasn't expecting it, that's all. How about we try it again? Tell me what you would have if everything went as planned."

You hugged him.

"Okay!", he replied.

And so you met the exhibits, and learned about the magic of the museum. It was a lot to take in, but you handled it well.

"There's one more person I want you to meet", Nicky said as he lead you up the stairs to the second floor.

"Hmm, must be someone really special if you saved em' for last", you teased.

Nicky grinned, "Yeah, he is! He's like my big brother, I think you'll like him".

You raised an eyebrow. Big brother huh? Seemed like you had some competition.

You and Nicky rounded the corner and found yourselves in the Egyptian wing. You stopped to look at some of the artifacts, but Nicky kept pulling you away.

"Hey! I was reading that!", you yelled indignantly.

"We don't have time to read, we only have two hours left!", Nicky exclaimed.

"Two hours is plenty of time to read /and/ meet your mystery guy", you argued.

Nicky rolled his eyes. He should've known that the history nerd in you would ruin all the fun.

The two of you neared a large hallway, with large slabs of stone covered in Heiroglyphs. It was really impressive actually.

"HEY AHK!", Nicky shouted, "I HOPE YOU'RE DRESSED CUZ I BROUGHT SOMEONE TO SEE YOU!"

You winced. Nicky was living up to the loud teen sterotype with gusto, apparently. You kept walking forward and heard a voice reply,

"Nicolas, must you use such volume in my exhibit? There is quite an echo in here, I'll have you know."

That must be the mystery guy. Huh. You didn't expect him to have a British accent. As you kept walking, you came to the entrance of a huge alcove. With a sarcophagus at the end, it was obvious that this was a tomb. What was surprising was the man standing in front of said sarcophagus. He had a golden cloak and a golden collar, with a golden crown to top it all off. Even his skin looked golden! You were starting to loose focus. The man then turned around to look at you and Nicky. Now you really lost the plot.

The guy was hot, like supernaturally hot. No man should be that attractive, your mind screamed desperately. And yet he was, he reminded you of that one meme with the lady who saw a man so beautiful she started crying. Didn't that lady give the guy some money? Should you give this guy some money? Probably not, he /is/ covered in gold after all......... Wait are they talking to you?

CRAP. Your inner monologue was cut short by Nicky elbowing you sharply in the ribs.

"Ow! That hurt, jerkface", you muttered.

"Then stop drooling and say something!", Nicky hissed.

You noticed that golden Pharaoh guy (he must be royalty, and it /is/ the Egyptian wing) was watching the two of you with an amused expression. He looked at Nicky and said,

 "If you're finished, I believe you said that you had someone you wanted me to meet."  

He looked at you as he said this and you felt the sudden sensation that someone had stolen your stomach and was using it as a hackey sack.

"Yep! Ahkmenrah, this is my best friend Y/n. Y/n, this is my other best friend, King Ahkmenrah."

Ahkmenrah took your hand and kissed the back of it.

"A pleasure to meet you, Y/n."

WOW, this guy was good. Five minutes in and you were already swooning.

 Unfortunately, before you could also turn on the charm, or even speak at all, you felt the familiar and completely awful tickle in your nose. You had only moments to turn around and avoid sneezing on the Pharaoh. You ended up sneezing on Nicky instead.

"A, aa, ACHOO!"

"EWWW, GROSS", Nicky yelled.

But as you knew, this was only the beginning. In your excitement, you failed to remember that this is a museum, which are by nature, very dusty. Your eyes started watering and you could feel them swelling up. You continued to sneeze, and with each one it became more of a struggle to breathe. By now, both Nicky and Ahk had become very concerned for your well being.

"Y/n?! What's wrong?! What's happening?!", Nicky was panicking, and by the sound of it, Ahk wasn't doing much better.

"Nicky, go get your father, perhaps he'll know what to do."

You could barely see, so you only knew that he left from the sound of pounding footsteps that gradually faded. You were gasping in between each sneeze, and when you weren't sneezing, you were coughing hard enough to hack up a lung. You felt a hand on your back, patting it gently.

"Breathe, Y/n. Take a deep breath", Ahk said.

You tried your best, but it didn't help much. You continued to sneeze and cough. You were so embarrassed.

"Is there any treatment for this?", Ahk asked. His voice had a strained edge to it, you could tell he was worried.

"Ye-yes. *Wheeze* My al-*cough*-allergy medicine. ACHOO! Ugh. It's in my bag....".

"And that medicine will stop your sneezing and coughing?"

"It should. *sniff* I haven't had a reaction like this in a *cough* long time."

"Reaction?", Ahk sounded confused.

"Yeah. I'm, ACHOOO! Agh, I'm allergic to dust", You replied morosely.

You could feel him tense, but before you could ask what was wrong, you heard running footsteps in the distance. It was Nicky and Larry, and they had your medicine.

  Luckily, your parents had told Larry about your allergies, fearing that this would happen. You had been so preoccupied with planning the trip itself that you completely forgot to tell Nicky about your dust allergy. A dangerous mistake that you'd never make again. You took you medicine and waited. Larry said you could rest in the guards office until you felt better.

  A little while later, you woke up from your nap and slowly opened your eyes. They were still a bit blurry, but at least you could see. You looked around the room and your eyes found that you weren't alone. Ahk was sitting beside the couch, looking out the window, a troubled look on his face. You felt sick. After seeing him smile, seeing him look so upset was awful. You made a vow to never let him look so sad again. Apparently he heard you move, because he turned to look at you. He smiled and walked over to sit next to you.

"How are you feeling?", he asked.

You stretched and replied, "A lot better. Just tired, ya know?"

He nodded, and you noticed that he wasn't wearing his crown. His hair was so curly! It was, really cute.

But he still looked so somber. You put a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, what's wrong? You're acting like someone died", You thought about how much of a mess you were, "Did, did I do something?"

He turned to look at you sharply and took your hands in his, "No, no, you didn't do anything. I-", there were tears in his eyes.

"It was my fault that this happened. I almost killed you. I'm no king, I'm a murderer."

You looked at him incredulously.

"How is it your fault?! You didn't do this! It just... happened!", you squeezed his hands, "Ahkmenrah, you are /not/ to blame. Please, don't do this to yourself".

"I'm a mummy! I live in that Ra forsaken tomb, in that disgusting sarcophagus! There's dust everywhere! It's all over me, and you....."

You couldn't help but laugh. Ahk stared at you indignantly.

"What on Earth could possibly be amusing about any of this?"

"Ahk, your exhibit is spotless. And there's no dust on you! Seriously! You didn't do this, okay?"

"Well then, if not from me, then where?"

You thought for a moment.

"Atilla's exhibit was pretty dirty, and Dexter /is/ a monkey.......... plus Lewis and Clark's maps are super old.......", you shrugged.

"It could have been from any of them", Ahk opened his mouth to argue, "Any of them except you."

He considered this for a moment before nodding.

"Alright. I believe you."

"Finally! You're harder to convince than my dad! And that's saying something."

  You both laughed. But then you suddenly remembered that your face is most likely caked in dried snot, your eyes are red and puffy, and your voice sounds like your nose is full of sawdust and silly putty. And you're talking to a literal king. 

Great.

You blushed, "I must look like hell. Sorry you had to see that, it's really gross."

Ahk smiled softly, "Nonsense. You look beautiful. And believe me, I've seen much worse."

"Worse than a storm of snot and sneezing? I doubt it."

Ahk grinned, "Once, Nicky took some of us Trick or Treating. He had a huge bag of candy and ate the whole thing. He then vomited it all up again, on my feet."

You cringed, "Oh nasty! One time, we were on X-Box live playing Injustice and he said he had to go to the bathroom, but he left his mic on and all I heard was the loudest, wettest sounding fart ever! I recorded it and every time he says something stupid, I play it back."

 The two of you kept telling funny stories about Nicky and yourselves, and you laughed harder at each one. You were both crying laughing. After a while, Larry popped in to tell Ahk that there was only 15 minutes until sunrise. He deflated a bit.

"Already? It feels as though no time has passed at all."

"I know right? Well, I guess you have to go, huh?"

Ahk sighed, "Yes. It is time", he looked at you expectantly, "I shall see you tomorrow, yes?"

You beamed, "Definitely! And I'll take my allergy meds before I come. No more snot storm."

You both giggled at that. You decided to walk him back to his exhibit. He was just about to get into the sarcophagus, when you stopped him.

"Ahk wait!"

He stopped and regarded you curiously, "Yes Y/n? What is it?"

You walked over to him and kissed him on his cheek. He blushed.

You smirked, "It was a pleasure to meet you as well, Ahkmenrah~  See you tomorrow!" And with that, you ran out of his exhibit. You couldn't believe you just did that! But, it was totally worth it.

Meanwhile, Ahk was shocked. He rubbed his hand against his cheek, where you'd kissed him. He smiled. He looked forward to seeing you again, and as he closed the lid of the sarcophagus, he felt calm for the first time in centuries.

You and the Daleys left the museum, and you couldn't wait to go back.

"You have a crush on Ahk don't you?", Nicky teased.

You rolled your eyes, "So what if I do?"

"He really likes you, ya know."

Your cheeks flushed a bit, "He does?"

Nicky nodded, "Uh-huh. Maybe you should move here....."

You looked back at the museum, "Maybe I will".

[lukeskywaker4ever]

King Pedro V 2nd Voyage (May 20th to August 14th, 1855): France

The 1854 trip was not, in fact, the last that King D. Pedro V made through the old European continent. In the following year he made a new tour and, in the excitement of what would follow, Pedro described, in his new diary, the wonders of traveling for those who want to educate themselves: “On a trip you receive an instruction that is very different from that of books, an introduction that books do not give, that instruction that you receive just because you throw your head out of the window. A trip, and a trip mainly in civilized Europe, that of the revolutions that have changed the face of our society, that shows us the remains of great nations, the effects of political errors, is a great relief to the thirst for instruction, a momentary relief and for that reason it is painful for those who see it before them only a bad time.” This time, and to fill the gap from the previous trip, France was the starting point for a new tour. It would be, again, the ship Mindelo 

carrying King D. Pedro, who was accompanied, as in the previous year, by his brother Luís.

On May 25th, at noon, the ship reached the river Gironde, which bathes the city of Bordeaux. However, at that hour, the river was no longer navigable, so Mindelo had to land in Pauillac, a few kilometers from Bordeaux. Predicting that this could happen, Emperor Napoleon III 

had already made available a steam, the size of which allowed him to sail to the French city. In Bordeaux, the floor of Place de Quinconces, next to the river, “was exquisitely carpeted, and had a rich pavilion decorated with the arms of Casa de Bragança and those of the Emperor, superimposed in the colors and flags of Portugal and France. The garrison troops formed in the Quinconces square 

made wings in the passage of the royal procession.” When the French steam, which brought D. Pedro and D. Luís, docked: “A royal salvo announced the landing of the Augustos Viajantes; the drums played the generala; the songs played the Portuguese anthem, and the cheers of the Emperor and the King live from all sides. The population of Bordeaux was crowded on the quay, the prospect was magnificent and pompous, and the weather that had become excellent contributed to the brilliance of the ceremony.”

A sumptuous carriage had been placed at the disposal of the King of Portugal, taking him to the Hotel de Ville, 

where he was accommodated. In that same space, a “banquet of 35 place settings” was waiting for him, that is, for 35 diners. In the short stay of just one day, Pedro had the possibility, right after the banquet, of watching a play in the theater where “the rich of Bordeaux are seen strutting, eager for pleasure and possessing the means to satisfy them.” However, he did not stay to meet them. The destination was Paris and he headed there. The next day he left Bordeaux to take the train in Orléans that would take him to the main Gallic city. On the way, after being delighted with the architecture of the station, he had time to admire the bridge over the Garonne, 

“one of Napoleon's great public works.” As he crossed France, he meditated on the advantages and disadvantages of large and small farms: “While I did not read the story impartially, I believed in the goodness of the property division, today I am more reserved and more illustrated in my opinion .” In Paris, he had the opportunity to talk about the matter, once again concluding that the big property was the best: “Everyone lamented, like me, the extreme division of property and some [individuals] I have heard triumphantly refute the argument of the advantage of interested the small people in the territorial property and consequently in the order. I said it above that the extreme division of property is a socialism and a communism that has the only advantage, and this is very considerable because of its results, but intrinsically insignificant, of not being nailed to the side of a platform that is less than the saddle of a cavalryman. It is a communism with all its evils, except that of Mr. Proudhon's communism, who unfortunately is not incarcerated in Charenton with Fourier and all this school of men of doctrines who, during 20 years of practice, have shown their complete nullity and uselessness.” D. Pedro wished to see in Portugal large farms managed by responsible owners.

As for the railway, which he used between Orléans and Paris, he criticized the way the engineers had planned it: “It is what I have against men of doctrine, it is that imaginary life that prevents them from looking at reality . So, this railroad that crosses a very rich country out of respect for the geometric principle that the straight line is the briefest space from one point to another, passes away from important cities, it seems that to follow its route to the letter. railway title from Paris to Bordeaux.” Then he commented: “The bureaucratic administration of countries that enjoy the so-called benefits of centralization, centralizes the country's geography; geography is centralized, he thinks it has centralized the country's interests.”

Arrived in Paris, only the Portuguese were allowed to enter the station, in order to kiss the hand of their sovereign. Escorted by a cavalry honor guard, the chariot carrying D. Pedro and D. Luís, went to the Tuileries palace. 

There they were expected by Napoleon III and his court and, after due cordiality and introductions, Napoleon personally led his guests to the rooms prepared for them in the Marsan pavilion, 

in that same palace. The room for D. Pedro was carefully prepared, ending, in fact, a surprise that touched young Portuguese. Napoleon III “ordered the portrait of His Augusta Mother Mrs. Dona Maria II 

from his nostalgic memory to be placed in El-Rei's room, and the August Guests were manifestly touched by such exquisite delicacy, shaking hands with the Emperor in a sense and silent recognition .” After dinner, where Pedro and Luís were able to exhibit the Legion of Honor 

that had been conceived for them the previous year, the fatigue of the trip made them retire to their rooms by ten o'clock at night.

In the Tuileries, on the following day, May 27th, he attended a Mass, in the company of the French Emperor, who celebrated that Pentecost Sunday, having appreciated the fact that he attended Mass in uniform, which, in his opinion, contrasted with the procedure by Luís Filipe de Orléans, 

who “did not hear mass, so as not to have natural science teachers, doctors and economists against him.” Then Pedro was finally able to see Paris and, as such, monuments and parks received his presence. He looked discreetly at Chantilly's horse racing 

and, in horror, at a vaudeville theater. He then visited the Grenelle well, 

the slaughterhouse and an establishment for the education of the blind. In general, comments about the visit are more banal than those made during your first trip. At one point, he compared London and Paris, saying that the former was a serious city, while the latter would be frivolous. He commented, in the following way, on the way the two peoples looked at their respective governments: “While the revolution of 1640 lives in the memory of all English and while the spirit of self government animates each member of that monarchical republic, where the sovereign is everything and nothing, the French people leave the care to think of the events to a few, that of governing those who carry out their interests.” The fact that Dom Pedro admired England did not prevent him from feeling any resentment against the country. The Universal Exhibition of Paris, 

which he visited, made a good impression on the spirit of the monarch, who found the European continent's industry well represented. Even if promoted by the government, the Exhibition was, in his opinion, a worthy response to the British challenge: “It is the Continent to show that the germs it presented in London have developed and that it has learned to take advantage of the great lesson.” After the official visit, he returned there, repeatedly, with his brother, but incognito, certainly with the desire to escape the hustle and bustle that his presence created, serenely seeking to admire the exhibition without interruption or agitation. The Museum of Natural History 

had a dubious effect, it did not criticize it directly, on the contrary, but it reflected the modesty of the collections: “In general, the collections suffer from a certain modesty, very fatal, which is also prevalent in our land , which is their lack of resources and their bad administration because, as everyone knows, the wise are not made to settle accounts. ” The big problem, according to him, was the centralizing tendency that drowned out all the forces that existed in societies: “and politician that we voted for after the people blindly left the centralizing power to think for them…”

The avalanche of visits took him to bed, this time with an attack of headaches, which the doctor treated with mustard synapisms in the bellies of his legs. The disease had a compensation, received the visit of Napoleon III and the Count of Morny, 

then President of Parliament. Two days later he was recovered. During the visit to the Cluny Museum, 

he reflected on the nature of constitutional government, exhibiting the mixture of idealism and pessimism that would characterize it: “If there was not so much suspicion against the real power, if the ministers did not love the portfolios so much, there were more who wanted to tell the truth to kings and their ministers, and the people understood their interests better, in short, if man were as he should be and not as he is, the best form of government was found; but that form will not see it for our generation or the next, if it is possible that man can never see it. ” D. Pedro would never understand the reasons that led men to walk “bad ways”. For him, mistakes were anachronisms. Pedro and Luís also visited the Louvre Museum, 

the Palace of Versailles, 

the Navy and the Artillery.

Of everything he saw in Paris, and it was not little, he especially liked the parades, which shows the fascination that everything that was military has always exercised over D. Pedro. The night of the 4th of June was spent in Campo de Marte, 

in a “highly poetic” environment, with 30,000 bayonets glowing, alongside 48 cannons, in a march that had as its backdrop “the cheerful and bellicose chirping of 6000 horses ”. He was excited: "Only those who have no soul, do not feel anything, do not feel a pleasant shiver, seeing what is most admirable in the world, how man managed to subject hundreds of thousands of men to one will." The next day, he had to go for a walk in the streets, something he looked at in a pedagogical way, that is, as something planned with the objective of “studying the physiognomy of the daily life of this great city, so full of grandeur and defects and which focuses on itself in human science and serves as a starting point for spreading over the earth.” In addition to shopping, he visited the Sèvres porcelain establishment, which motivated him to reflect: “I confess that sometimes, when I feel the lack of means that the king of Portugal has to satisfy the most innocent passions, it is precisely when I feel possessed by the desire to own what I see, but I must console myself with the idea that what is beautiful in art belongs to everyone, is, for many, the source of indefinable enjoyments that the owner often does not feel.”

Then he took off from the Vincennes polygon, 

the Casa da Moeda, 

the cavalry school in Saumur, 

the National Archives, 

the School of Bridges and Sidewalks, an Exhibition of Agricultural Machines and the Imperial Library, 

where he discovered some Portuguese works , such as, for example, the Chronicle of Guinea. On the 13th of June, after a dinner with the general staff of the armed forces, he spoke, for once, of D. Luís. He did it in a negative way: “I slept all the way and was already in bed when the brother returned from the Grand Opera House, 

where he had gone to see the first performance of Verdi's Sicilian Vespers. I did not envy him the pleasure of listening to such good music; I had seen Saumur's school while he was having fun.”

On the 21st of June, preparing to leave Paris, the guests were again surprised. At seven o'clock in the morning they received the presence of the Emperor and the Empress, 

who made a point of saying goodbye to the travelers once again. The gesture touched the Portuguese and the farewell was made of hugs and commotion. Napoleon did everything to ensure that nothing failed and made available, again, a French steam that waited for D. Pedro and the rest of the party in Marseille. Until then, they passed through Lyon, where they watched a search of the troops and a simulacrum of war, visited establishments and bought a souvenir, but from England. It was a silk portrait of Queen Victoria and her husband. On the 23rd of June the imperial train left for Marseille, but with a previous stop by Avignon, where the former palace of the popes 

was visited and admired. At the next exit, the retinue boarded the steam provided by Napoleon. They were going to Italy.

[john-is-on-the-rails]

This post begun 09:17 03/05/18 in Berlin Central Station and finished 14:05 04/05/18 at Prague Metronome Park: 

I’m heading out of Berlin Hauptbahnhof, the main train station. Built in time for the 2006 world cup, surprisingly England went out on penalties to Portugal that time, it’s more like an airport than any rail station I’ve seen. A shopping mall trains go in and out of. I had a ‘super’ smoothie from a juice bar just off platform three. I think super means it has a banana in it. The term ‘superfood’ has always puzzled me. It appears to mean ‘anything that isn’t a burger with chips next to it’. Blueberries are a superfood apparently. I’ve always just thought of them as...well...food.

I began with the Jung quote because I was thinking about it yesterday after hearing a discussion on a podcast a few days ago. Side note: I ended up watching a Slavic jazz band at an Irish bar last night. There was a young guy sat opposite me, taking notes and drinking whiskey. Cool kid. I dropped my phone, smooth, and as he passed it back to me he said ‘I have put you in my notebook, I hope that’s OK’. I said it was and asked him what he was writing. Turned out he was a Sri Lankan student studying psychology in Amsterdam. We got chatting and I told him the Jung quote above, which he duly wrote down in my section of his notebook. I hope it gave him something to think about anyway! 

The podcast host used the Jung quote during the podcast to argue that when reading history you should imagine you are the perpetrator rather than the victim. Because statistically, it is much more likely that you would have been complicit than be one of the minority of people who truly rebel against the dominant ideology, often with mortal consequence's for them. It made me think about the history of Germany in a different way. I’ve always thought ‘of course I would have stood up to the Nazi’s, wouldn’t I?’ But, If you put yourself in a position where going against the state means almost certain death for you and your family, would you actually do it? It’s a difficult question to confront and you might not like the answer. With the luxury of hindsight, it is much easier to be courageous. Could you really have seen through the Goebells propaganda machine that was bombarding you with anti-Semitic rhetoric? That’s how terror states work. They make people complicit by weaponising fear and anxiety. Look at Stalinist Russia, dissenters did not last long there. 

Over the last couple of days, I've been reading Joseph Frankl’s account of his experiences in Auschwitz and Dacau concentration camps. It’s only a short read, 150 or so pages, but I would urge anyone to read it to get an honest insight into the psychology of the camp internee, as well as the prison guard. His account, as a psychologist by trade, focuses on how his and his fellow detainees' mental states changed when reduced to their most basic need, to survive. Dr. Frankl openly admits that the ‘best of them’ did not make it out alive. It's also interesting to hear that those whom you might naturally assume would survive, physically robust people, for example, can actually fare much worse in reality. Those of a more sensitive and cerebral nature, often with a less hardy physical stature, are sometimes more able to cope with such a harrowing experience by losing themselves in their heads. Detachment is key to surviving such horrors according to Frankl.

On Tuesday, I visited the monuments to the darker side of Berlin's history. The picture they paint of a city divided in hatred is difficult to reconcile with the multi-cultural, diverse and vibrant place that Berlin is today. It isn't the same city. The same as a person isn't the same person they were ten years ago. Time heals all and hope springs eternal, as they say. The possibility of change is what hope is. I would have been too embarrassed not many years ago to sit in this park on my laptop in bare feet, as I am doing whilst writing this. 

I'd have worried what people looking at me were thinking. Now I try only to worry about what is in my control. What other people think is not one of those things, when you try and control the thoughts of others, it ends badly. This is attested to by the Holocaust memorials, the topography of terror and the Jewish Museum in Berlin. I visited each of these sites in one day, and I'm not too proud to admit that it brings tears to my eyes now writing about it days later. There are two major holocaust memorials close to the Reichstag building and the Brandenburg Gate. A smaller, more intimate memorial to the Roma and Sinti who were persecuted by the Nazis. It is very peaceful and less physically impactful than the Jewish memorial further on past Brandenburg Tor. A slightly risen circular water feature trickles peacefully in the centre of a clearing surrounded by sycamores. A simple triangle is at the centre of the pool, upon which a fresh flower is placed daily. I didn't stay here long. An elderly couple were embracing and crying, maybe for a lost loved one. I felt like I was intruding so respectfully left them to grieve. 

The memorial to the millions of murdered Jews is a couple of minutes walk away. Comprised of around two thousand seven hundred stone blocks and pillars, the floor falls away and becomes more uneven as you move towards the centre, giving you an uneasy and slightly nauseous feeling. The pillars become larger and more and more light is filtered out. It becomes increasingly overwhelming as you move through the stone maze, as the sound of the city is muffled and your senses dulled. Now and then you'll see someone cross the path ahead, and then disappear again. I think the feeling of loneliness and a descent into chaos is a fitting memorial to the Holocaust. The quietness and stillness of the place perfectly represent the hole left by the erasing of millions of people from European society. 

Next stop was the Topography of Terror. Both indoor and outdoor exhibitions on the site of buildings which during the Nazi regime from 1933 to 1945 were the SS Reich Main Security Office, the headquarters of the Sicherheitspolizei, SD, Einsatzgruppen and Gestapo. Most of the buildings were destroyed by allied bombing or knocked down after the war, the site was forgotten about for decades. The visitor centre on site now is a glass and steel structure with wide open spaces and a timeline that takes you through the evolution of the Nazi state. It makes harrowing reading but I took my time and worked my way through the exhibit. The tour ends with a video reel of show trials after the attempted assassination of Hitler in 1944. An elderly priest, who had heard the confession of one of the would-be assassins nine months before and warned him against taking any action, was called in as a witness but left with a death sentence to be carried out the next day. It made tough watching. The outdoor exhibitions tell the story of 1933 and the Nazi’s rise to power. The displays are set in front of what is left of the basements and cellars of the original buildings. I thought it best not to dwell for too long on what happened in those spaces. 

My final stop was the Jewish Museum on the old East side of town. You can see the difference in architecture immediately when you move from West to East over the old line of the wall. It feels like there is still a divide of riches between the two sides of Berlin. I wasn’t sure what to expect from this museum as it was a last minute suggestion from google maps that sent me there. This place took my breath away and finally made me shed a tear after an emotional day. The building is set out as an art installation, as well as a museum. I was wandering through the building looking at a wall of artifacts, slowly moving my way down a corridor. I noticed a large door at the end with no signage on it but decided to give it a push anyway. I entered a vaulted room, towering walls all around making it feel claustrophobic. The walls were jet black. The door slammed behind me, sending an echo around the chamber, after that all noise from the outside was isolated. A single window in the roof was the only source of light. That was when I felt a rush of emotion for all I had seen and learned that day.

Despite the tough subject matter, I felt strangely alive when I left the museum and headed off back into Berlin centre. Perhaps I had realised how very lucky I am to live in the circumstances I do. I sat and had a drink near the Brandenburg Gate, where I was joined by some feathered friends. Hope springs eternal.

[ruminativerabbi]

Walking

I’ve been writing about various topics in American history for these last few weeks, attempting to find in our understudied American past a reasonable path forward into our shared American future. But this week I thought I would go off in a different direction entirely.

Last week, a snowy owl appeared in Central Park. For some, this must have sounded at first like a non-event—the park, after all, is filled with birds! But the owl’s visit actually was remarkable, and in several different ways.

For one thing, the last time a snowy owl was spotted in New York City was apparently in 1890, a cool 131 years ago. (I’m speaking, of course, of living birds, not dead ones. In the latter category, there’s a stuffed snowy on display in the American Museum of Natural History on Central Park West that none other than the eighteen-year-old Theodore Roosevelt shot somewhere on Long Island in 1876. Nor is that one the Museum’s only stuffed snowy—they apparently own another twenty or so, but only the one shot by a future President is on permanent display.) For another, the owl hung around just long enough for  its presence to be noted and recorded, and then promptly vanished. In our world, celebrity is considered—at least by non-celebrities—a desirable status to be sought after rather than quickly fled. And yet, unlike most of Snowy’s avian predecessors among famous New York birds (long-time celebrity red-tailed hawk Pale Male, for example, who spent decades flying around in the Park when not ensconced at home with his chicks and his impressively long succession of mates on the roof of his adopted Fifth Avenue home), Snowy Owl spent a bit of time showing her (or his) stuff, then went off to wherever it is snowy owls hang out when they’re not attracting huge crowds of well-wishers in Central Park.

But for me personally, Snowy Owl—who didn’t even hang around long enough to be named by his admirers—was a visitor from a different part of my life.

When we moved from Germany to western Canada in 1986 so that I could serve in the first of my three pulpits, we basically had no idea at all what we were getting into. I would have googled British Columbia, but Google was only founded in 1998. Nor was the early version of the Internet that sort of did exist available for use by regular people like ourselves. I did check in our local branch of the Heidelberg public library to see what I could find, but they didn’t have much of a selection of books about Canada at all, let alone specifically about Vancouver or its environs. So we were left on our own to pack up and hope for the best. Eventually, we found our way, got used to a new set of daily norms, adjusted to living in a place where most people spoke English. We moved into a house. We bought a car. And we acquired a dog, a first for me if not for Joan. (The late and much lamented Hector was still a real, if ghostly, presence in Joan’s life when we first moved to Canada. But she was ready, or ready-ish, to move on and I was certainly ready to support the idea.)

And that dog—a succession of dogs, actually—brings me to the topic of snowy owls. I grew up in Queens. Owls were not in abundance. I remember my childhood mostly fondly, but Yellowstone Blvd. was not a place of great (or any) physical beauty. But now I actually was living in a place of almost unimaginably stunning physical splendor. (Tourism B.C. doesn’t use the slogan “Super, Natural British Columbia” for no reason.) I took to walking the dog along a path that meandered along the banks of the mighty Fraser, B.C.’s longest river. And it was there, at the bottom of No. 3 Road where a half-mile or so of the dyke walk was specifically designated for off-leash dog walking, that I met my first snowy owls.

Let me draw the picture just a bit more precisely. This is young me we’re conjuring up—I was all of thirty-three years old when we moved to B.C., younger than both my sons are today—and the dogs, serially, were all black labs. So here I am walking one of the dogs along the Fraser. To my right, seals are having a grand old time frolicking in the water. Across from the water, to my left, are huge pine trees featuring gigantic bald eagles’ nests in their crests. (I was born and raised an American, but have seen our national bird living in the wild—or at least not living in a zoo—only in Canada.) And in the lower branches, apparently unconcerned by the neighbors upstairs, were—depending on the season—a few or many snowy owls looking out at the world and thinking, I always imagined, how lucky they were to be owls and not dogs, eagles, or seals. Or, for all I knew, people.

I never really understood the concept of walking before I moved to B.C.  

Last week I wrote about a speech Lincoln gave at the Springfield Lyceum in 1838. So it was only thirteen years later that Henry David Thoreau gave a speech at the Concord Lyceum in Massachusetts that he eventually delivered another ten times in different venues and which was eventually published in The Atlantic in 1862. The speech was called, simply, “Walking.”

For Thoreau, walking was not just exercise, but a kind of conscious effort to leave civilization, represented by town and house, and step into Nature itself. He writes in his essay, “I think that I cannot preserve my health and spirits, unless I spend four hours a day at least—and it is commonly more than that—sauntering through the woods and over the hills and fields, absolutely free from all worldly engagements. You may safely say, A penny for your thoughts, or a thousand pounds. When sometimes I am reminded that the mechanics and shopkeepers stay in their shops not only all the forenoon, but all the afternoon too, sitting with crossed legs, so many of them—as if the legs were made to sit upon, and not to stand or walk upon—I think that they deserve some credit for not having all committed suicide long ago.”

I suppose that’s clear enough. Maybe he’s being a bit harsh, but the author is just warming up. “Living much out of doors, in the sun and wind,” he goes on to observe, “will no doubt produce a certain roughness of character—will cause a thicker cuticle to grow over some of the finer qualities of our nature, as on the face and hands, or as severe manual labor robs the hands of some of their delicacy of touch. So staying in the house, on the other hand, may produce a softness and smoothness, not to say thinness of skin, accompanied by an increased sensibility to certain impressions. Perhaps we should be more susceptible to some influences important to our intellectual and moral growth, if the sun had shone and the wind blown on us a little less; and no doubt it is a nice matter to proportion rightly the thick and thin skin. But methinks that is a scurf that will fall off fast enough—that the natural remedy is to be found in the proportion which the night bears to the day, the winter to the summer, thought to experience. There will be so much the more air and sunshine in our thoughts. The callous palms of the laborer are conversant with finer tissues of self-respect and heroism, whose touch thrills the heart, than the languid fingers of idleness. That is mere sentimentality that lies abed by day and thinks itself white, far from the tan and callus of experience.”

There was a time in my life when I would have been incapable of understanding what Thoreau was trying to say. And then I moved to Canada and began to walk the same stretch of the dyke path for thirteen consecutive years. Day in and day out. The same path. The same river. The same trees. I would once have imagined that to be the most boring assignment possible. But it turns out Thoreau was completely right. And, indeed, as I walked through the years I noticed things Queens-me and Manhattan-me would have been incapable of noticing: the way alluvial mud smells slightly different in late fall and early spring, the way the pitch of frogs’ croaking rises during the springtime mating season, the way the activity level of seals, eagles, and owls changes as the temperature rises. We had many visitors too. From time to time, a vulture or an osprey would show up. One memorable time, a walrus made a brief appearance before vanishing into the waves. It was like living in the Wild Kingdom, except that my immersion in Thoreau’s writing allowed me to picture the experience not as a TV show that I had somehow stepped into, but as a time machine that had somehow propelled me back to Old Concord and allowed me to walk along with my silent but fully present partner, a man whose orientation towards nature and its mystic dimension became mine as well.

I loved the owls most of all. I knew their reputation as the wisest of birds and they seemed that way to me too, quietly sitting on their low boughs lost in thought, observing the world, taking it all in. When we finally left Canada for California, I took one final walk on the dyke with Harry, our final B.C. dog. The seals weren’t around. The eagles were off doing whatever they did when not perched atop the evergreens along the Fraser. But the snowy owls were there, watching us silently, bidding us farewell, saying nothing. And in saying nothing also saying everything and, at that, allowing Nature—which (or do I mean whom) Thoreau qualifies as our “vast, savage, howling mother”—to wish us Godspeed and good fortune on our journey into an uncharted future.