#Homelander is a milk drinker

[slasher-smasher]

Tamp-On the Heroics (Homelander x gn!reader)

Two fics in one day?? Yeah, I am absolutely bored and highly caffeinated.

This is not meant to be taken seriously. I thought the idea would be silly and funny.

Words: 1,618

Masterlist: here

Warnings: None, unless you consider ridiculousness a warning.

Reader is written as GN but they do own a feminine product. I just used it as a plot device.

Not beta read.

Summary: Homelander finds himself in a sticky situation when his son, Ryan has an accident and he grapples with the challenges of parenthood and unexpected emergencies. Being bombarded with texts from a hysterical supe boyfriend was not something you were expecting when you went to work that morning.

Your phone goes off five times during your shift at your job. At first you didn’t think anything of it. Probably just a telemarketer or some scammer calling to let you know about your “cars extended warranty”. Jokes on them, you don’t own a car. Why ride when you can fly first class on Homelander airlines?

When your phone rang a third time, you got a little curious. Maybe it was someone trying to get a hold of you. But who? Your friends are here at work with you. Your boyfriend Homelander rarely uses his phone to get a hold of you, plus he would just fly over if he really needed something. You tried sneaking your phone out to check before you boss walked like a prison warden, hands laced behind their backs, eyes scanning for anything they can chew you out for that is preventing you from doing your work. You weren’t really the best at subtlety so when you attempted to pull your phone out from your desk drawer, you almost slammed the drawer on your fingers in your hurry to close it as your boss poked their head around the corner to call you for a quick meeting in the staff room.

Damn.

After the fifth time was when you got worried. You swiped your phone then rushed into the restroom locking the door behind you. Seeing eleven notifications of missed texts made you feel a surge of panic. Your fingers tremble slightly as you unlock your phone to scroll through the messages.

Heroic Hunk : Hey pumpkin, just checking in on you. I would fly over but Ryan is visiting. 😊

Heroic Hunk: Oh, I just remembered, did you put milk on the shopping list? We are going to need more. Ryan keeps guzzling down MY milk when he puts that fucking sugary strawberry powder shit in it. I swear he was dropped as a baby. Fucking gross.

Heroic Hunk: Precious, funny story… So I was helping Ryan practice his flying and we thought playing catch would have been a fun challenge. He got a bit too into it and there may have been an accident.

Heroic Hunk: Ryan flew face first into a tree…🤦🏼

Heroic Hunk: Okay, so Ryan just had a nosebleed, and you are not picking up. I'm freaking out a bit. What do I do???

Heroic Hunk: Seriously, what's the protocol here? Should I call a doctor? Should I fly him to a hospital? Why are you not picking up??

Heroic Hunk: I'm starting to panic a bit... his nosebleed won't stop! What if it's something serious? I NEVER HAD A FUCKING NOSEBLEED BEFORE!!

Heroic Hunk: I tried using a tissue, but it's not helping much. Should I try something else? How can my kid bleed so much? ANSWER THE GODDAMN PHONE!

Heroic Hunk: Okay, update: I found something in the bathroom. I saw this being used in a movie. Going to see if it works. I’ll call you after.

Heroic Hunk: It seemed to work, but now I'm worried I've done something wrong. 😬

Heroic Hunk: Update: The bleeding stopped, but Ryan's giving me weird looks. Was that a bad move? Please advise a.k.a call me back.

Heroic Hunk: Crisis averted! 💪 Love you! 😘

You were so confused and incredibly worried now. What the fuck has happened? Why did John think having a young child—who recently just learned how—fly through a forest AND play catch at the same time was a good idea? You can’t leave your boys alone for two seconds without something either burning down or someone ends up bleeding.

You looked at the time on your phone before you pressed the call button next to the name he put in for himself.

It rang twice before he picked up.

"Hey pumpkin. You ready for me to pick you up?” He answered jovially. Like he didn’t send a plethora of panicked texts your way just an hour ago.

“Hi sweetheart. I am really sorry I didn’t answer my phone earlier. I was in a meeting. Is everything ok?” You tried to keep your voice even and calm.

“Oh yeah. Everything is all hunky-dory. Just a little mishap. We are currently watching one of my movies. Kid is mesmerized.” Homelander replied with pride and a laugh, you could hear the tv in the background. Sounds of explosions and guns going off.

“Well ok. Yeah. I am ready. Need to file away some papers but I’ll be done by the time you get here.” You sighed, still a little unconvinced but you will find out everything yourself when you get home.

“Alrighty! I’ll be there in a sec. I’ll bring your jacket too since it’s starting to get chilly. Love you.” He made a kissing noise into the phone which you replied with your own I love you too and kiss.

He was right. It was getting chilly as you waited on the roof of your office building. You started using the roof for drop offs and pick ups when using the front entrance got too hectic. Having a celebrity boyfriend who was the most powerful supe came with the pains of having people fall over themselves just to get an autograph or photo with him. The swarms got so bad that you almost broke your arm being tripped as they rushed to meet their idol. That almost ended in a bloodbath which would not go over well with your boss when you had to explain that your short-tempered man-child of a partner lasered half of the employees over an accident.

“You look like you need a ride.” Homelanders' teasing voice snapped you of your thoughts making you look up as he slowly floated down to greet you. His signature cape swishing in the cool breeze. God he was beautiful. Blue pools that sparkled with mischief. His smug smile and corny jokes made your heart race and you couldn’t help but laugh.

You were so gone for this man.

“Hey there handsome.” You greeted as you settled yourself into his warm embrace.

“You ok? You look tired.” He asked, concern can be seen in his face handing you your jacket.

“Yeah, it was just a long day. Let's go home and get some dinner. Ryan is probably hungry.” You answered as you put it on and relaxed into his arms when he wrapped his arm under your knees and lifted you easily. Thank you super strength.

You could have fallen asleep with how gentle he was with you during the short flight back but you forced your eyes to stay open.

Landing softly in the front yard of the cabin you pulled him down to plant a kiss on his lips and thanked him for the lovely ride as always. Full stars on yelp. He let out a chuckle and took your hand into his as you walked into the house.

You let out a satisfied sigh as the heat from the fire in the fireplace greeted you. Looking around the living room you didn’t see Ryan which made you frown. He usually rushes to give you a big hug but he was nowhere to be found.

“Ry? I’m home.” You called out in a normal voice. Knowing he inherited his fathers sensitive hearing so there was no need to be loud.

“I’m in my room! I’ll be right out!” You heard him respond from deeper into the home. You looked back at Homelander who just shrugged.

“Probably playing with his little Legos. He said something about recreating a scene from the movie before I left to get you.” He supplied as he walked into the kitchen.

That boy and his Legos, you thought as you followed Homelander who poured two glasses of milk and handed you one.

“Did you get my text about the list? If not, then I can have someone drive out here and get everything delivered.” He asked before he took a sip of his favorite beverage. Holding your with both hands as you also took a drink. You were not as big of a fan as Homelander is but you do enjoy the cold taste of milk occasionally.

“I did but I wanted to ask Ryan if he wanted to go with me tomorrow. You know he likes looking at the Legos in the toy section,” You said as you took another sip then a thought popped into your head. ”Speaking of text, what did you end up using for Ryan’s nosebleed anyway?”

Homelander finished his glass with a large gulp licking his lips as he set the glass down on the counter. He looked at you with a proud grin which if you were honest, made you suspicious.

“I couldn’t believe it worked but it makes sense with what it is actually designed to do. Just a different hole.” Homelander lifted his hand, pointing at the ceiling and twirling it in a circle indicating to turn around.

Wait, what? Hole?

You gave him a confused look then turned around and spat out your mouthful of milk as you saw Ryan walk into the living room with a large grin that made him look even more like his father. What ruined the similarity was the dangling string that was attached to a piece of cotton shaped into a bullet that was shoved up his nostril.

“OH MY GOD. JOHN!” You couldn’t breathe due to the giggles shaking your body.

“What? It does the same thing!” He defended.

You completely forgot you had tampons in your bathroom.

“Well it did stop the bleeding,” you managed to breathe out as you walked over to give the boy a hug.

You love your boys so much.

[ykantspel]

What mommy issues does to an mf:

Bro literally flew all the way to see his boss and be upset that she has a son

[gallavichsreddie1128]

Bully (Homelander)

Description: Y/N Bullies Homelander and he gets fed up

Word Count: 2,481k

Author’s Note: I have another version of this that ends differently if you guys want it.

She walked into the seven’s headquarters where everyone is at for a meeting. Everyone was already there except Y/N who just now walked in. Homelander had an annoyed look on his face as she walked through the door and to her chair. She sat down and smiled at all the members besides Homelander. “You’re late.” He said. She looked over at him, annoyed. “Can it, Cape Boy.” She said. Maeve and Starlight tried not to laugh. Y/N bullied him constantly and it was so funny. What was odd was that Homelander never fought back really. He would just roll his eyes and go back to whatever he was doing. Before Y/N came along he was the big bad Homelander but now Y/N seemed to run things.

After the meeting was over they all got up to leave. Y/N walked by Homelander and bumped into his shoulder causing him to scoff. She turned towards him and raised an eyebrow. “Got a problem, Stars and Stripes?” She asked. “Yeah you bumped into me.” He said. She shrugged and turned away. “Go cry about it you mommy milk drinker.” She said. He was tired and sick of her bullying.

It was day after day that the team had to hold back their laughs as she said the meanest things to him. Nobody felt bad for him due to him being a dick all the time. “I am the Homelander and I really can do whatever the fuck I want.” He growled. She mocked him and laughed. “Shut the fuck up you pussy. You ain’t gonna do shit.” He was beet red after that. Embarrassed as he saw the team trying to not laugh. 

When Soldier Boy arrived it got worse. “You think you’re tough shit? Buddy you’re wearing a cape.” Soldier Boy said to him. “And Spandex too.” Y/N added. Ben looked at her amused. “You’re wasting your time with him. He’s nothing but a whining mommy milk drinking bitch.” She told him. Ben smirked at the woman. “I like this one.” He said and she smirked. Homelander didn’t know why but he got insanely jealous of that. “Your daddy doesn’t want you, go cry about it.” Homelander held back the tears in his eyes. It was humiliating. Y/N tore him to shreds with her words while Soldier Boy, His dad, laughed. He never got love or anything like that. Deep down that’s all he wanted but Y/N made sure he knew everyday that he didn’t have it and never will. 

Once he was alone he would cry. Her words felt like knives to him. He hated that she affected him like that. The one time she caught him crying she laughed at him. She cackled and cracked up as the man stared at her with tears streaming down his face. “Please you’re only upset because nobody’s ever stuck up to you before and you don’t like it. You don’t like that I'm not afraid of you and that you can’t control me like you can the others. Boo fucking hoo.” She said. She was right. He hated that she wasn’t scared of him or bowed down to him like most around him. But her words also hurt him because she made him feel like shit. She made him feel like he didn’t matter and that her words were right. 

He started coming into work not saying anything and not acting like a cocky son of a bitch. The team was confused by his silence but thankful nonetheless. He glared at the woman making his life a living hell as she walked through the door and into her seat. He stared at the table as she talked, not daring to look at her. Everyone saw the look in his eyes. She broke him. “Bitch boy stop zoning out I’m talking.” She said. He looked up at her with broken eyes. She chuckled. “Why the sad face?” She asked. “Why are you so mean to me?” He asked. The others decided to get up and leave not wanting to see this. They enjoyed seeing him not be a cocky son of a bitch but they admitted Y/N was harsh. “Aww does that make you sad? Are you gonna cry?” She mocked him with a frown. “I never did anything to you. Nothing and you make me feel worthless.” He said. “Good.” “But why? What have I done to you?” He asked. She scoffed at him. “Are you being serious right now?” She asked him.

“The big bad Homelander is actually upset by what I say?” She laughed a little. “You’re fucking evil.” She laughed at his response. “I’m evil? Have you met yourself?” She asked, standing up. “Homelander you seriously are a piece of shit. You have no emotions or care towards anything or anyone. You act like you can control the world just because you’re a strong man but in reality you’re a whiny little boy that never got love from mommy or daddy.” He had tears in his eyes at this point. He didn’t care that she would laugh anymore. “You’re a monster, Homelander. You deserve every word I serve you.” She said. He stood up. “No. I save people, I'm a hero.” He said not looking at her. “Oh my god no you are not. You made a girl kill herself, you talk down to regular people because you think you are above all but newsflash Homelander, you’re not.” She walked closer to him. “I may be the only person that tells you the truth in your life so get used to it.” She said and walked away leaving him in tears. 

From that day on he wasn’t himself. Not even to the world. This powerful tall ego he had was no more. He didn’t even want her gone, that’s the worst part. She gave it to him straight and he had to appreciate that but she was awful to him. She was powerful, a strong woman that didn’t need anyone to protect her. He watched her as she spoke to the crowd and the crowd loved her. She was beautiful and fierce. She would make a better leader than him. That’s what the people were saying. He read the article in anger and hurt. The people wanted Y/N as the new face of the seven.

He had enough of her games. He stormed into the quarters where she was and threw the paper down in front of her. “You happy now? You took everything from me.” He told her. She looked at the paper and smirked. “Someone had to.” He scoffed. “I get it you hate me, you think I’m a monster, you want my position. Well guess what? You may take my pride, my happiness but you won’t get that.” He growled. “I don’t want your position you dumb fuck. I want you to realize you are a terrible person.” She stood up. “What do you want me to say? That you’re right? That I seek validation from others and that I'm sad that I never got love from parents? That I think I’m better than everyone else but I actually am insecure but since I have powers I use that to my advantage? That I actually am hurt by your words because you’re right? Is that what you want?” He yelled. “Is that the truth?” She asked him. “Yes, okay? You’re right about everything you said.” She didn’t laugh or give him a smirk. “I hate myself because of you and you made me realize that I'm a shitty person.” He yells. She watches him as he breaks down. Tears stream down his face as he sobs and cries.

She got what she wanted but it didn’t feel that good. Right here, right now she saw a broken man. She walked over to him and he expected her to laugh in his face but she didn’t. He looked at her and she took his hands. “I know it sucks. But you needed to realize that.” She tells him. “Homelander you can always better yourself. You don’t need to be the villain.” She says. He looks at her with soft eyes. “You deserve love. Everybody does.” She whispers. He leans in and tries to kiss her. She backs away. “Oh right. You wouldn’t love somebody like me.” He says. She shakes her head. “No I wouldn’t.” He looks down and nods. “I should have known that.” He whispered. She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Hey, you'll find somebody.” She whispered. He had tears falling down. “You said it yourself, nobody will love me.” “Someone will. I promise.” 

Everyone found it strange that Y/N didn’t bully him anymore and that he wasn’t a cocky piece of shit anymore. He wanted to better himself but just for her. She was the only one in his life that told him the truth and didn’t lie to him. He adored that. But he knew that her words were true and that she hated him. She spoke from the heart and that was just that. But Y/N maybe have had the act of hating him, she couldn’t bring herself to fully hate him. She could tell he’d been through so much but that didn’t give him the right to act the way he did. But after the last time they were alone she couldn’t stop thinking about him.

She saw the hurt in him, the need and want of love. “Ok guys that wraps it up.” Homelander said closing the meeting. Y/N stood up with the rest of the seven and went to exit the room. “Y/N can we talk?” He asked her. She turned around and looked at him. “Yeah sure.” She said. She walked over to her seat and sat in it. He cleared his throat and sat back down in his seat. “Are you okay?” She asked him. “Yeah uh I just can’t stop thinking about the other day.” He whispered. “Okay. Well I can’t either. Kinda crazy right?” She asked with a light laugh. “We almost kissed.” He said. “Well you tried to kiss me.” She pointed out. “I know and I’m embarrassed because I thought we had the same thought.” He said.

She looked at him. “Oh Homelander it’s not that, it's just.” She sighs. “Just what?” He asked. “I didn’t expect you to try and kiss me. I didn’t think you’d have feelings for me. I mean I was mean to you.” She said. “Yeah but I liked that you were honest with me and you make me wanna become a better person.” He said. She gave him a soft smile. “Why do I make you wanna become a better person?” She asked. “I wanna be good for you. I don’t want you to hate me anymore. I wanna be with you.” Her jaw dropped at his words. “Homelander, you don’t actually wanna be with me. You just liked that I told you how it was.” She said.

“No. Please don’t tell me what I want.” She nodded. “I know in my heart that I wanna be with you. I was so sad that you were mean to me because I love you.” “You don’t even know me.” She said, “Then let me.” He begged. She looked around. “Just a week ago we were enemies and now you wanna be with me?” “Yes. So let me take you out.” She looked at him and saw that he was being serious. “Okay.” She said and gave him a small smile.

She looked in the mirror and sighed. She would have puked at the thought of going out with him but now it doesn’t feel like that anymore. Her dress was a pretty red and pushed up her boobs. She wore her hair in a ponytail. She was nervous. She was going out with the man that she hated more than anything. She sighed and stepped out of the bathroom at Vought tower. She saw him facing away from her. He still had on his suit but she didn’t expect him to take it off. He turned around and smiled. “Hey wow you look beautiful.” He told her. She looked down at what she was wearing. “Well thank you.” He held out his arm and she took it. “So are we eating here?” She asked him. He looked at her. “I pulled a few strings and got us some of the best food in the city.” She looked at him confused. “Best food in the city?” He nodded. He opened the door to the quarters.

All the chairs except theirs were gone. The food was placed at the table with wine glasses. She looked at him. “You think you’re hot shit?” She asked. His face dropped. “I’m kidding. This is awesome.” She said and took a seat at the table. He shook his head and sat down. “Glad you like it.” He said. He watched as she eat her food and drank the wine. They talked about life and what he remembers. “So have you ever thought about leaving?” She asked him. “Like they would let me.” “You’re the Homelander. You can do whatever the fuck you want.” She told him.

He smiled at her. “Sounds way better coming out of your mouth.” He said. She chuckled and set her glass down. “Yeah well that might be the only time you hear me say it.” She joked. “Do you ever think about leaving?” He asked her. She looked at her food. “All the time.” “Why?” He asked. “I want to have control over my own life.” She said and looked at him. He thought about her words and how he would love to know that feeling and have it. The rest of the night went by smoothly. Until the end of the night the conversation was long forgotten about. “I think we should do it.” He said. She looked at him confused about what he was talking about. “We should leave.” Her jaw dropped. “Homelander you don’t mean that.” She said. “I do. We should leave this place and get one of our own.” She took his hand. “One step at a time, yeah?” She smiled at him. He nodded. 

At the end of the date he walked her back to her room. She turned towards him with a small smile. “I had fun.” she told him. “Yeah me too.” He said. She looked at his lips and bit hers. He saw and leaned down. She met him halfway and their lips touched. His hands went around her waist and hers went around his neck. They pulled away after a few moments. “Night.” She whispered as she opened her door. “Goodnight.” He said back, watching her close her door. She had a smile on her face as she had her back to the door. He walked away with a smile.

[chrismien]

Let's explore the negative association of milk in Tamriel's Nordic culture.

So, basically, from the dialogue and other sources, we know that drinking milk within Nord cultures is associated with a number of negative perceptions, such as:

Milk is for children.

Milk is associated with weakness.

Milk is not a manly beverage.

This is evidenced by the lines from numerous NPCs in Skyrim.

If you have a disposition of -1 or lower with an NPC, they may say to you: "What do you want, milk drinker?"

There is also the Taunting Adventurer NPC in Skyrim, who is a randomly encountered warrior in the wilderness or in an inn. He says: "What's a milk drinker like you doing out here? Go home to your mother."

But it is worth noting that some Nords such as Rigurt the Brash from ESO oppose the concept behind the insult saying: "Milk-drinker. Why did that become such a terrible Nord insult, I wonder. Milk is good for you! I love the stuff! Not as much as I love mead, but it's a close second. Maybe third."

With that, it is reasonable to assume that some Nords avoid drinking milk to prevent being perceived as a cry-baby or a weakling by other Nords, and potentially even by themselves.

As we know, even in real life, milk is important for bone growth. When we delve into medical aspects, calcium is an essential extracellular cation required for muscles to surpass the action potential threshold, enabling contractions and therefore movement.

Skyrim, the homeland of the Nords, also experiences limited sunlight in certain regions. UV radiation from the sun is essential for the activation of Vitamin D from cholecalciferol to calcitriol. This fat-soluble vitamin is crucial for maintaining bone strength and a healthy immune system.

Basically, calcium is important for nerve conduction, blood clotting, muscle contractions, immune functions, and healthy bones.

But how would a race centered around strength and possessing a strong warrior culture maintain their constitution?

Skyrim is abundant with cheese, which is directly made from milk and is also rich in calcium. Digesting cheese breaks it down into its components, facilitating the absorption of calcium into the body.

There is also a thriving fishing culture in Riften and Windhelm. Access to the Sea of Ghosts allows access to marine resources like fish and shellfish which could act as substitutes for calcium sources.

I understand that it's a fantasy world, but creating a believable fantasy world can indeed enhance the enjoyment of the experience. By grounding elements of the world in reality, it becomes more relatable and allows us to better connect with the characters and settings.

We can now conclude that Nords are able to maintain their warrior culture despite the cultural bias against milk, which is essential for numerous bodily functions.

[popperfur]

I was keeping up my relentless contrarian lifestyle by being a coffee drinker in Ireland and tea drinker in the US. This wasn't actually by any design it was just totally out of convenience. Working those drip coffee machines first thing in the morning is Insane especially having to clean the reusable filter. Working the kettle is so much simpler. I finally got some aldi instant coffee like we exclusively drank in the homeland and I'm back on the coffee train. Like I get it, drip coffee has a much more complex flavour and is definitely like, nicer but tasting that strong burnt coffee flavoured water again is so nostalgic. Makes me think of waking up early and chatting with my ma at the kitchen table with the door open and the cold morning air hitting my face, makes me think of everyone crammed into the tiny break room at my first job a different person on drinks duty every day, going around asking everyone who wants tea or coffee and how much milk and sugar. Idk the ritual of the electric kettle is so important, the drip coffeemaker is like an impersonal industrial machine...not the vibe ‼️

[healthyartsforseniors]

The Alchemy of Chai

by Sheniz Janmohamed (Guest facilitator, Cooking Up Feminism)

When I was given the opportunity to facilitate "Healing with Chai, Poetry & Nature” for Cooking Up Feminism, I was sitting in the lap of grief. I had lost my maternal grandmother a few weeks before, and hadn’t (and still haven’t) fully internalized the loss. To be in the company of seniors was not only healing but also a reminder that we are also always in the company of our ancestors. It was heartening to hear senior participants speak about their parents, grandparents and elders. Sometimes young people forget that our elders were once children themselves, and long for the connection and memories they had with their own parents and grandparents.

In keeping with the theme, I opened the session with a poem about my great grandmother, from my book, Reminders on the Path.

The poem ends with the following stanza:

Great grandmother,

did you say goodbye, did you know there would never be a return?

a lullaby sung across generations a pang of separation in the bones a spoon of curd melting on the tongue a growl rising from the gut

this is how we say goodbye.

Chai Pods by Sheniz Janmohamed

Madhu recognized the “good luck” ritual from her own family tradition, where the traveler is given a spoonful of curd mixed with sugar. She acknowledged how these superstitions and traditions fall away with each new generation, who become estranged from their original homelands. Ebru also spoke of a similar tradition from Turkey, where water is thrown behind the traveler before they leave, followed by the words (translated): “easy come, easy go, like water.” The session prompted a deep reflection of place and the nostalgia that accompanies our rituals and traditions. I began by sharing my own relationship to masala chai, a recipe that has changed as I’ve changed over the years. Each morning begins with the crushing of spices in a mortar & pestle and the slow simmer of rich black tea on the stove. The reason I make my own masala each morning is because each day requires a different remedy. On particularly gloomy mornings, I need the healing properties of ginger to wake me up. On sunnier, softer days, comforting cardamom will do the trick.

Lubna resonated with the alchemical properties of chai, referring to it as an “emotional beverage” that gives the drinker exactly what they need. It is a beverage for gathering and celebrating, but can also provide relief for particularly hard days.

Participants also agreed that our ancestral brews have the power to bring us together in ways that cafes can’t. When we are invited for kava or chai, we’re invited to be in the company and comfort of friends and family. We are welcomed into a circle of warmth that can’t be replicated anywhere else.

Lady P spoke of this intentionality. “Growing up in 1960’s Jamaica, coffee was the order of the day. Now coffee is not the same in Jamaica.” Chain stores and corporations have dominated the market, making it more challenging to have an authentic experience.

Lady P explained in detail the ritual for making coffee: collecting coffee from the Blue Mountains, drying it out, grinding it in a mortar, preparing the outdoor kitchen, gathering firewood for the stove, letting the coffee boil, straining it with cloth, scalding the goat’s milk and then pouring the mixture into metal cans. The grandfather or eldest man of the family would get the biggest cup to take with them as they went off to work on plantations and farms. Through detailed imagery and poignant reflection, Lady P encouraged us to reconnect with the slow grace of intentional creation— from planting, nurturing and gathering to preparing, brewing and sipping.

Drink your tea slowly and reverently, as if it is the axis on which the world earth revolves - slowly, evenly, without rushing toward the future. —Thich Nhat Hanh

In acknowledging the origin of our brews, we realized that all elements are required for making tea or coffee: the heat of a stove, the alchemy of water, scent and steam, and the coffee beans and tea leaves picked from the land itself. Every time we take part in these slow rituals, we are not separate from nature, but part of a system of reciprocity. Ancestral memory lives through our precious recipes, allowing us to revisit of our homelands with each sip. ~ Sheniz Janmohamed

Sheniz Janmohamed

Sheniz Janmohamed was born and raised in Tkaronto with ancestral ties to Kenya and Kutch, India. A poet, nature artist and arts educator, she regularly visits schools and community organizations to teach and perform. 

Her nature art has been featured across Turtle Island, including the National Arts Centre and the Art Gallery of Mississauga. She has performed her work in venues across the world and has three poetry collections Bleeding Light (2010), Firesmoke (2014) and Reminders on the Path (2021). A recipient of the Lois Birkenshaw-Fleming Creative Teaching Scholarship, Sheniz holds an Artist Educator Mentor certificate from the Royal Conservatory. She is a firm believer in fostering community through collaboration and creativity. She recently served as the Writer-in-Residence at the University of Toronto Scarborough Campus (Winter/Spring 2022) . She is the founder and facilitator of Owning our Stories, the first writing circle of its kind for South Asian women in Ontario.

Links: Website: www.shenizjanmohamed.com   Twitter: www.twitter.com/shenizj Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/shenizpoetics

All of the recipes and stories we share in "Cooking Up Feminism" will be published in a unique cookbook by Scarborough Arts, available to the public in 2023, so stay tuned. Bookmark our blog and follow along. Thank you for your support.

~Mariam Magsi (Workshop Facilitator, Scarborough Arts)

[scotianostra]

18th August 1773 saw Samuel Johnson and James Boswell set out on their three month tour of the Highlands and the Inner Hebrides.

Boswell enticed his famous English friend Samuel Johnson to accompany him on a tour through the highlands and western islands of Scotland. 

James Boswell, 9th Laird of Auchinleck  was a Scottish biographer, diarist, and lawyer, born in Edinburgh, like many young men he longed to visit the bright lights of London and in 1760 he deserted the family home to live in the English capital for a few months. It was during his second stay in 1762-63 that he met his literary hero and model, the poet, essayist and dictionary maker Dr. Samuel Johnson.  In August 1763 Boswell embarked upon a 2½ year Grand Tour of Europe, during which he met many notable men and women, including Voltaire and Rousseau.  On returning to Scotland he practised law as an advocate.   During this time he made occasional visits London to spend time with Dr Johnson and others of his circle, including Oliver Goldsmith, Sir Joshua Reynolds and Edmund Burke.  He was also on familiar terms with David Hume, Adam Smith and other leading figures of the Scottish Enlightenment. 

Johnston and Boswell set off less than 30 years after the '45 Uprising, when whisky was still distilled illegally, roads were scarce and travel was by foot, bone-jangling carriage, horseback or over very turbulent seas in a rickety boat.

Their extraordinary journey to the Highlands and the Hebrides during an autumnal season of relentless rain and storms, took Johnson - plump, partially deaf and blind and who had rarely travelled outside of London - on a grand Scottish tour which led to two of the earliest travel books and paved the way for centuries of tourists who would also explore the nation’s wild islands and highland

While for the then 32-year-old Boswell there was a chance to witness Johnson up close for nearly three months, providing a wealth of material for his admired biography, Life of Samuel Johnson. The travel journal was a massive hit and a humorous account of their journey.

Boswell was Scots to his roots and is very defensive about the Scots and Scottishness, while Johnson has this very English take on it all. These two things fuel the humour, Johnson is like this English bulldog and Boswell is like a Scottish terrier. Together they are a hoot! Add to that the facts that as you would expect from a Scotsman, Boswell was a heavy drinker and Johnson was teetotal, which leads to all kinds of escapades. It’s like 18th century Laurel and Hardy.

Boswell, quoted their first conversation in the biography,  Life of Samuel Johnson, saying: “Mr Johnson, I do indeed come from Scotland, but I cannot help it”. To which Johnson replied: “That, Sir, I find, is what a great many of your countrymen cannot help.”

It set the scene for a friendship driven by verbal sparring, with Johnson’s deprecating remarks about Scots robustly foiled by Boswell’s defence of homeland.

Their travels began in mid-August at Boyd’s Inn in Edinburgh, where the cleanliness dismayed Johnson. Boswell wrote: “He asked to have his lemonade made sweeter; upon which the waiter, with his greasy fingers, lifted a lump of sugar, and put it into it. The Doctor, in indignation, threw it out of the window”.

The pair then travelled up the east coast, stopping at St Andrews to indulge their interest in John Knox and Mary, Queen of Scots, Following the coast towards Aberdeenshire, a  bit like today’s NC500 tourists plotting their route, they took an anti-clockwise course along the Moray Coast to Inverness and then to the Western Isles.

At times their journey resembled a lengthy pub crawl as they noted the quality of the inns and the food.

In Montrose, Johnson noted: “At our inn we did not find a reception such as we thought proportionate to the commercial importance of the place; but Mr Boswell desired me to observe the innkeeper was an Englishman, and I then defended him as well as I could.” Dundee, it was noted, was “dirty, despicable”. They even recorded their first taste of Arbroath smokies.

Having travelled through Glen Shiel, the pair arrived at the inn at Glenelg. Often praised today, Boswell and Johnson gave it the equivalent of a one-star TripAdvisor review. Having arrived “wearing and peevish”, they discovered “no meat, no milk, no bread, no eggs, no wine. We did not express much satisfaction.”

The Highland terrain posed even greater stress. Dangerous and often impassable except on foot, they were often in remote spots, miles from inns or shelter or ankle deep in a peat bog.  Nevertheless, they trudged on through stormy weather and with Johnson often suffering from colds, increasing deafness and seasickness on the journeys between the islands.

The trip from Coll to Skye was undertaken during a vicious storm, with Boswell fretting over whether the boat might sink or explode, and troubled that he couldn’t understand the sailors’ Gaelic!  Johnson was no great fan of the language, describing it as “the rude speech of a barbarous people, who had few thoughts to express, and were content, as they conceived grossly, to be grossly understood”.

But in Skye, they were delighted to meet Flora MacDonald, and slept in the same room that Bonnie Prince Charlie had slept in. “Both were over the moon because they were besotted with the story,” he wrote.

Don’t judge Johnson on his dislike of the Gaelic language though, the pair told of finding the Highlands still occupied by military garrisons, cleared by immigration and spoke of the suppression of Highland culture and oppression of the clans.

The isle of Raasay turned out to be a favourite spot, where the pair enjoyed the clan chief’s hospitality and a raucous ceilidh, with Boswell dancing a jig on the flat summit of Dun Caan. Both felt that in Raasay they had come close to authentic old Gaelic culture and way of life.

By October 1773 they were in the Saracen Head Inn in Glasgow’s Gallowgate, revelling in a roaring coal fire and conversation with professors from Glasgow University.

The trip would come to a sorry end, however, at Boswell’s family’s Ayrshire home at  Johnson and Boswell’s father had an enormous row; they were total opposites in religious and political beliefs,

Johnson was a kind of father figure to Boswell. He knew Boswell could be a bit out of hand, but he also knew he was a real literary talent.”

Johnson’s A Journey to the Western Islands of Scotland, was published  in 1775, followed a exactly decade later by Boswell’s The Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides with Samuel Johnson.  Both wrote their own versions of their tour differently. They go to the same places but see things differently.

[concreation]

Hold up, Milk-Drinker

Intro

"Hold up, milk drinker," the guard laughed.  "What's your business with all this… merchandise?"

M'Sava pulled up the corners of his mouth, an affect he had been told by a caravaneer would soothe men-folk.  Speaking past his teeth, "M'Sava… eh… This one… eh… this one has heard tell of the Man-Mane's Potluck, of the dances and the swords and the sweet smells of…" M'Sava trailed off, a new expression upon the guard's face, one which M'Sava had not encountered yet from a man.  It seemed to accentuate the hard features of his mouth, to make him even less like the Ohmes from his homeland.

Finally the guard spoke, motioning to the closed city gates behind him.  "Well, cat, as you can see, it is night, and the festival begins during the day, so you'll have to wait outside.  Preferably where I won't see you or have to smell you."  The guard hissed, the sound invading M'Sava's ears.

M'Sava took a step backward, trying to process this strange behaviour.  Men seemed so quick, yet so hard, like cones falling from jungle trees.  He closed his eyes, going through his lessons, back to Khaanin'fa's teaching, 'a hard deal is like a soft deal, just curdled.'  At the time, this of course had made no sense, and M'Sava still wondered if it had even made sense to her.  But wisdom could be pulled out of anything, and he figured now was as good a time as any.

"M'Sava's friend!  Let this one uncurdle you with the gift of the moons!" M'Sava went to his camel, J'Mashe'ra, pulling a small bowl from its pack.

"Oh no no cat, we'll not have any of that in here, begone!"  The guard brandished his sword, he hissed again, and shooed M'Sava away.

Confused, M'Sava turned back down the road.  To the south, the sandy desert across the bay reminded him of home, and he led his camel slowly around the bay, searching the sands for a good spot to set up his tent.  He turned several times next to a tall palm, before settling into a small dune, laying out his carpet and raising his tent.  During his strange journey, this process had soothed him, reminding him of home.  Pulling a slip of paper from his camel's pack, he took it within his tent to study quietly.  Every night he pulled another slip of paper from the pack, so regularly that J'Mashe'ra seemed to anticipate it once the tent was up.  Tonight's paper read simply, "Don't eat too much darling", in his mother's austere handwriting.  M'Sava smiled at this, having scarcely had anything to eat since leaving home.  The men and mer who had been willing to have conversations with him were more interested in trade, or skooma, than in enjoying a meal together.  He looked to the moons and wondered if his mother saw the same moons.  Of course not, he thought, but maybe him seeing them would be enough for her.  She wouldn't have let that guard treat him like that, but then, he had headed for the Potluck on his own partly to learn to be independent from the memory of her.  He snuggled into the dune, content that he was making some progress.  He thought ahead to the next day, and what fun he would have at the Potluck.  Sleep took him quickly, as it always had.

"Ahem, Khajiit!  Awaken please, I aim to do business!"  An angular face poked past the entry flap of M'Sava's tent, golden eyes peering into the darkness.

M'Sava awoke with a start, letting out a soft hiss before climbing to his feet, again aware of where he was.  Light poured in above the stranger's head, and M'Sava began to realize that he had overslept.  "No no, this one is no caravaner, this one must go to the city!"

"Ah, a shame, I was hoping for a little moon sugar for some experiments, I know you Khajiit always have some, isn't that so?"

M'Sava frowned, finally looking the intrusive Altmer in the eye.  He was young, at least for a mer, and seemed out of place, for his head looked to have been bared to the sun for too long, leaving an orange sunburn.  "This one really must be going, the Potluck may already have begun!"

Now the Altmer frowned, pulling his head out of the tent, and called from outside, "I am patient Khajiit, but I must have some moon sugar!"

M'Sava frowned.  Men and mer alike considered him barbaric, but their tastes were truly barbaric.  It was as though they could not see the subtleties of moon sugar, the holiness of it.  It was all corrupted to them.  He thought of another piece of wisdom from Khaanin'fa's teaching, "To lick the self completely clean is to have a clean outside and a dirty inside.  This is why one should lick themself half clean, to achieve balance."  Why did he think of these things?

Finally, M'Sava had rolled up his carpet and taken down most of his tent from within.  He went to his camel, but stopped when he noticed that same Altmer, standing over a body a little way up the road.  The body was hooded, but M'Sava could see that same golden skin poke through the robes.  Fear gripped him, for he had heard tales of powerful Altmer wizards, wizards who might not take kindly to being told no.  This scene also stood between him and the Potluck.  He pulled the bowl from his camel's pack again, and slowly moved toward the young Altmer.  "Say… M'Sava could part with some sugar… This one offers it freely!"

The Altmer turned, a glow fading from his eyes.  "Oh lovely!  And for free?  You Khajiit are inscrutable!"  M'Sava handed off the bowl, and the Altmer put it in a pouch hidden within his robe.  It seemed he had many pouches hidden away, and his movement caused much clinking and bubbling.  "Now Khajiit, you say your name is Emshava?  A pleasure to make your acquaintance!  I am Loviril.  Many pardons about our pursuer here, he did not appreciate my being so candid about my search for your sugar.  You say you're headed to the Potluck?  For I am as well!  Shall we travel together?  Your pack beast appears thirsty!  Shall I provide?"

The barrage of questions took M'Sava aback, so much so that he did not try to correct the poor pronunciation of his name.  "Ehhh… Why not?"

Loviril went to J'Mashe'ra, and, producing a small vial from his robe, fed the camel a few drops.  He giggled excitedly at the soft lips on his hand, and pulled another small vial from his robes, smearing it full of spittle.  He turned to M'Sava, and smiled, full and bright.  "Well, off we are then?"

Curious, M’Sava went to his camel, who seemed lively and cheerful, or at least more cheerful than it had been other mornings.  He pulled the reins, and the camel went along much easier than it had before.  M’Sava was curiously grateful, but he still gave the dead body a wide berth, especially after noticing the green tinge working its way through her veins.  Loviril spoke loudly, "Ah, apologies for that little incident, can't have anyone taking my business the wrong way, can we?"

M'Sava gulped, careful to avoid looking at Loviril too much.  His father had been like this, with questions he didn't know the answer to.  They made the rest of the way to the city uneventfully, though as the sounds of music and market bustle billowed over the walls, he began to be more excited about the Potluck instead.

The same guard that had driven him away the night before was just exchanging keys with the new shift, and grinned mischievously as M'Sava and Loviril passed.  "Don't bring in anything you shouldn't Khajiit!"  The other guards looked curious, but the first guard laughed again, leaving them to wonder.

1

As they made their way through the gates and into the first hold of the city, Loviril took his leave.  "If I see you again, N'shaza, may it be in happy times!"

M'Shava shook his head ruefully, his tail twitching at again being called the wrong name.  He led his camel through the market, his nose overwhelmed at the smells of many foods, spices, and the sweaty men and mer who dominated the market.  The smell of sweat was terrible to M'Sava, it was like these people pissed when it was hot.

"Oy, cat!" called a nearby fish merchant, "how about some dried fish eh?  Or maybe, fresh?  That sounds good doesn't it?  Here kitty!"  The merchant laughed, her belly shaking, the greenish stains on her shirt heaving.  Her fish was decidedly not fresh, a fact clear from the fact that in the packed market, her stall had plenty of space.

M'Sava avoided her gaze as he passed her stall, and she called out in a lower voice, "do not think you can avoid what is to come Khajiit, the past repeats itself."

M'Sava furrowed his brows, pressing on without looking behind.  She continued her mongering, but soon he could no longer hear her, just the sounds of the Potluck market.  He would stop every once in a while to sample something, and give something feom his pack.  The spices and food he had brought with him were of great interest to those he passed, as they were usually expensive in High Rock.  M'Sava relished this, as the strangers he had met on the road did not seem nearly as happy to see a Khajiit.  And to trade rather than pay, with no bartering or finagling, was like being at home with his clan.  His mother had told him, "M'Sava, this one will do anything for you, but don't forget to do everything for this one!"  He laughed softly to himself, remembering that he hadn't known at the time whether or not she had meant it.

2

He had worked his way up through the first keep and was passing into the second when a burst of darkness caught his eye, a Suthay like him on a nearby rooftop with most of his face concealed by a dark mask, but for his mouth, which held a rotten fish.  He stopped, but the other Khajiit was gone as quickly as he had appeared.

Shuddering with shame, M'Sava heard the sounds of swords, and came back into himself.  He saw the radiant glow of the singing before he saw the actual performers, but when he got closer and could see the dance, he fell back, afraid.  The sound cut the air, his ears confused.  The song seemed not to come from the swords, but from within his own head, to leap and parry and break, then reform, just as the sword-dancers did.  The crowd around him seemed just as enthralled, swaying as one to the bizarre rhythm of the swords.

And suddenly M'Sava felt a small, cool bottle pressed into his hand, and felt a rush of air as another dancer, no Redguard, but a Dagi-raht, danced through the crowd, gifting small bottles of what M'Sava knew from old experiences was skooma.  She was one second here, then another second there, her dark clothing glinting with purples and golds, vicious laughter clashing with the sound of the swords.  She landed blithely between the dancers, stark against the reds and browns of the dancers' garb, and threw a handful of soul gems into the air.  The gems were caught up in the waves of tonal magic in the air, and they began to dance to the rhythm of the swords, trails of soul magic following and tangling together.

The dagi-raht disappeared again, and the soul magic began to extend out through the sword dance into the crowd, compelling them to drink their bottles.  As the wave of magic pushed through M'Sava's chest, he lifted the bottle to his mouth, something he had not done in years, but as he did he saw that same suthay from earlier, rotten fish hanging from his mouth and perched atop a nearby rooftop.  He cleared his thoughts with a shake, and stowed the small bottle in a pouch.

The dancers had halted their performance, and abruptly the soul gems rained down on the crowd.  A child began to cry and calls for guards rang out.  M'Sava tried to hurry away, not wanting to be associated with the strange khajiit who had disrupted the dance, but Loviril stood behind him, empty bottle of skooma in hand.

"Fascinating!  Simply fascinating!"  Loviril smiled widely at M'Sava, his pupils wide and glistening.  "How did you manage to resist the urge Maba?  What magic have you got hidden away my friend?"

M'Sava tried to push past him, growling, "this one is M'Sava, and nothing else, elf!  Allow this one through!"

Loviril maintained his smile, but his eyes grew darker.  "The skooma has not taken hold of me yet, Khajiit, and I must know your secrets.  Reveal them to me and I shall depart from you with dignity."

M'Sava hissed lightly, and pressed his palm to Loviril's chest.  "Move."

Loviril sighed, "very well khajiit, but I warn you that our next meeting will be much less cordial.  A good day to you, and may greater knowledge find its way to you."  He turned, chugged another potion from within his robe, and set off for the third keep.

M'Sava scowled, as he was also planning to head there.  He lingered, but ducked into an alley at the sight of guards approaching.  They seemed more interested in the now rowdy crowd than anything else, though he was beginning to learn that men and mer could change in an instant.  These people who were so enthralled with the sword dance not a minute ago had been corrupted much more than any Khajiit beggar under Sheggorath.  Truly he did not understand how they could allow themselves to fall victim to another’s whims so easily.

An Alfiq refined in the same purples and golds as the Dagi-raht dancer pranced across the alley further in.  M’Sava hesitated, then followed, his curiosity overtaking his excitement for the Potluck.  His grandmother had told him, “ Little Sava, do not trust the alfiq, they are tricksters, and rely on the good nature of others to cast their evil magics!  Now, be a good kitten and bring this one her sugar!”  His grandmother had been an Alfiq herself, but he had not met many others, though he did not doubt her words as he could apply them squarely to her as well.  This Alfiq seemed to jump and twist erratically, little pockets of magic holding it aloft, then pushing it hard into the dirt of the alley, though it did not cry out in pain.  If it knew that it was being followed, it did not give any indication of such.  M’Sava slowed his pace as he passed a pile of food scraps from a tavern, containing the rotted out shell of a dreugh.  Flies had found it first, and had laid enormous eggs, some of which had burst, leaving rapidly drying sticky white residue all over the dirt of the alley.  The smell of rotting fish returned to M’Sava’s nostrils, and he breathed deeply.  His stomach growled, and he realized how long it had been since he had eaten.

“Hey now!” called the Alfiq ahead of him, now facing him, though relaxing on a resplendent pillow, which had not been there before.  “You’ve got to focus!  Get your mind back to where it should be… On me!”

M’Sava was startled, as he had not expected the alfiq’s voice to be quite so gravelled, yet so… songlike.  “What do you mean, alfiq?  Is this some sort of spell?  Begone if you plan to cast magics on this one!”

“Ha!  Haha!  Hahahaha!  Foolish mortal!   Silly mortal!  It would be no fun, no fun at all to place a charm on you.  Though a hex… nay, maybe later.  Ooh, or maybe a melon spell!  No no, focus Sheg!”  The alfiq shook its head, and appeared to refocus its gaze on M’Sava.  “This is my Potluck, and you have brought something in which I did not plan for!  You, a khajiit, who refuses to drink freely given skooma!  Unbridled chaos, wanton destruction of minds and souls, an overabundance of cheese, aye!  Yes!  More!  But it’s almost like you’re competing with me, seeing who can show the more madness!  It’s unacceptable!  Or is it too acceptable?  Who’s to say?  I am!”

M’Sava took a step back, the smell of the rotten dreugh calling him and the alfiq confusing him.  “No!” cried the alfiq.  “You are too small, too mortal to be the cause of your own madness.  You will resist, and become the more mad, so that your cause will show itself to me.  And if no cause is shown, I will destroy you.  It is not time for Jyggy.  Or I’ll turn you into a footstool!”  An alfiq-shaped portal then opened in the side of the alley, and the alfiq was gone in a flash.

3

M’Sava turned heel and ran back to the square where the sword-dance had been, and turned again toward the third keep of the city, a guard ordering him to halt.  The guard gave chase, but M’Sava was too fast for him, and managed to lose him in the milling crowd just inside the third keep.  He breathed a sigh of relief, but it caught in his throat as he saw that same suthay staring down at him from one of the now much more ornate houses.  A small chunk of rotten fish fell from his mouth, flopping onto the cobbled stone below him, but no one in the crowd seemed to notice, enthralled as they were with the riches of the city being disposed of.  Nobles were tossing drakes down into the crowd, some with great force, some from chamber pots, with some in neat packages.  There was a mad scramble to pick up as much coin as possible, with dresses held high being used as improvised scoops, and old wheelbarrows piled with gold.  The nobles above laughed, and their bards played what were probably glorious hymns from high windows, though with so many different songs and the frenzied clinking of coin, the scene seemed far from sacred.  M’Sava looked up, finding his stalker again had vanished.

The clattering of sounds and the smell of so many sweating peasants rushed into M’Sava, knocking him off balance for a moment, his tail reacting faster than his mind.  Growing anxious, he began to bound on all fours like a senche.  The bursting energy of the Potluck was starting to grow in him now.  He had not seen his camel since the entrance to the second keep, and now that he was in the third keep, he had also forgotten that he had planned to gift the man-mane with his grandmother’s moon sugar.  He bounded over the backs of the crowd, unintentionally tearing their clothing and flesh, though he did not notice the blood and viscera on his claws.  He rushed on until the crowd was gone, and the city seemed to calm around him.  His anxiety left him, but he felt something wet in his mouth.  Worried that he was drooling, he swallowed, but whatever was in his mouth resisted, moving the opposite direction of his swallowing.  He stood up again, and gingerly pulled an enormous slug out of his mouth.  It raised its front at him, its eye stalks moving independently to take him in.  

“Hello little one,” he cooed.  “What were you doing in there?  Waiting to warn this one that he should or should not drink the skooma, eh?  This one knows you Sheggorath, and this one will not obey!”  M’Sava had grown tired of this madness, and had decided to confront it head-on.  He felt a clarity that he had not felt since arriving.  This thing, this aspect of his madness could not be real, and neither could the suthay on the rooftops.  He had simply overreacted, because he had been too excited.  It had happened before, but he had grown so much, even since yesterday, and he would not allow it to continue.

The slug oozed out of his grasp, a small puddle plopping onto the cobblestone below.  M’Sava laughed.  He had defeated his madness!  Free at last!

But now, a sound both soft and heavy, gentle but harsh, as a gargantuan arachne emerged over the roofs of the mansions around M’Sava.  The torso of Namiira hung limply before him, obscuring his view of the road before him.  Pus dripping from her head, her spider body crouched above so that she could rest her head on the cool cobblestones.  She croaked, bubbles forming in her throat, “my champion.  How quickly you forget your place.  It has not even been an age.  And yet you come here.  To the abode of an enemy.  You do not follow your baseness.  My gift to you is squandered.  Why do you hunger?  Where is my ring?”

M’Sava crumpled to the ground.  He had forgotten.  He was older than he remembered.  It felt as though a different M’Sava had received his ring, a different M’Sava had worn and used it, and a different M’Sava had forgotten it.  But there it was, on his finger.  And oh, he was so hungry.  It had been months since he had eaten.

“There you are my champion.  Now.  Eat.”  Namiira pulled up from the road, and light and colour returned to the world.

M’Sava rushed through the empty streets, higher and higher, his ears popping every so often and his chest heaving.  The architecture around him grew more and more fantastical, the magic of the bretons and the Direnni history made manifest.  He ignored all this, these empty mansions, for riches would not sate his hunger.  He had to reach the king.  He had to complete the Potluck.

The lone guard at the gate frowned at the cat rushing toward her.  The Potluck did not go this high up, why would it come up here?  Unless… was this cat some sort of assassin?  It certainly wasn’t approaching with any degree of stealth.  She lowered her spear and ordered the cat to stop.

M’Sava could see the guard and her little spear, but he did not fear her.  He rushed headlong into her spear, and he heard her cry out as the spear appeared not through his back, but back out through his belly, near where it had entered, and poked up into her head.  He fell over from the pain, though he was in better shape than the guard at least, who lay quite dead before him.  It had been quite some time since he had killed, and the hunger poured into his mind, and out his mouth came more slugs and spiders.  They roped their way to her open head, and pulled him downward, until his jaws were around her, and he fed.

4

His energy returned, and his wound healed, M’Sava continued into the castle.  The courtyard was empty of life, as were the halls, though books and scrolls covered every available surface, and magically, some otherwise unavailable surfaces.  The stairs had once been wide, but were now narrowed with books.  M’Sava, his hunger unfulfilled by the guard, continued up and through the narrow passages between stacks of books.  The man-mane would be the solution to his hunger.  M’Sava understood now.  How could he have been so blind!  The Potluck, the whole city!  It was like a miniature plane of the Shimmering Isles!  Of course Sheggorath ran this place.  A Potluck?  What could be more mad?  And these piles of books?  Madness!  M’Sava finally felt right here, he had resolved his madness!  He would find the man-mane, and the source of the Potluck, and restore it all to The Void!

But the castle seemed much larger from the inside.  He started to wonder if he was lost, though he had not stopped climbing stairs since he entered, so how could he be?  He paused a moment to look behind him, and there was the alfiq.  He languished lazily, as though M’Sava had not just been on that step.  “Greetings khajiit!  It’s me again, old Sheggorath!  Or should I say not young Sheggorath, compared to your eminence!  Hehe!”

M’Sava sat, resting his back against an unsteady pile of texts, apparently organized by variety of skin cover.  “What is it Adversary?  Do you come to taunt, to gloat against this poor khajiit?”  He reached his hand out to Sheggorath, scratching behind his ears.

“Don’t think I don’t know how absolutely degrading a real alfiq would find this behaviour, Champion of Namiira!  Though I do prefer it to our previous conversation, so don’t stop or you’ll be a sweet-roll in no time, being fought over by children at a birthday party!”

M’Sava continued stroking the alfiq’s neck.  “Er… Right.  This one has figured out your game Sheggorath, and M’Sava will have no part in it.  This one wanted you to know this after he met with your man-mane, your champion, but you’ll know it now.”  He prepared to extend his claws, to tear out the alfiq’s throat, but Sheggorath looked confused.

“Me champion?  Me man-mane?  Nay, this man, this place, they do not belong to me.  I prefer to do the fishy-stick below, with the common rabble.  And they prefer me!  It’s a path of least resistance, if you will, or even if you won’t!  Hahaha!

“Now, go on, don’t let me stop you!  See to this king, and give him Sheggorath’s regards!”  And Sheggorath was gone.

M’Sava was unsure for what felt like the hundredth time today, though this uncertainty seemed much more deadly than any before.  If the man-mane was not a servant of Sheggorath, why would he allow his town to be taken up in this way every year?  Why fill his castle with so many books if he were not totally mad?  Why have his castle be so damned confusing?

Determined, M’Sava continued upward, travelling for an hour, then another, then another.  Bells below rang out, but they seemed quieter every hour, so M’Sava took this as a sign of progress.  The dusty tomes also did not seem to grow any more or less dusty, but he kept noticing new and intriguing works on topics for which he had neither the context nor the capacity to understand.  Only his hunger drove him ever upward, or he would have stopped to sample the literature, to delve into its secrets.

Finally, after several hours of climbing, he reached a platform with no books, papers, or scrolls of any kind.  And here sat Loviril, hovering naked above the platform, Daedric runes carved into the floor, walls, his body covered in them.  Even the air around him had been carved into, runes floating and congealing neatly before the elf.  His back was turned to M’Sava, but he called out to him just the same.  “Hello, Champion of Namiira, please do not make too much noise in my library, I am learning.”

A chill ran up M’Sava’s spine.  This was not what he had expected.  This was a mer corrupted.  This creature was dark, but not evil.  Loviril was cold, but piercing.  M’Sava stood still for what he thought was eternity.  He wondered if Loviril had forgotten he was there.

“No, M’Sava, I have not forgotten you.  You have done this to yourself.  Your dream has lasted for longer than its dreamer.  You have not left this world, this Mundus, as you should have.  And I have watched you enter this city, as I have watched all things in this city.  And I have learned.  But you have not learned anything.  You have regressed.  You have rotted away.  Your knowledge has festered.  There is a wound on you, but rather than allow it to scab over, you have picked and picked, you are your obsession, nothing more.”

Suddenly Loviril was upon M’Sava, a potion being poured into his agape mouth before he could react.  The bottle was a deep jade, and the potion burned, grey vapour filling the air around him.  He could not move.

Loviril’s voice changed, dropping several registers, the timbre becoming older and lilting.  “I would understand you, Champion of Namiira.  She cannot bring you here and expect to defeat me.  But I can give you an understanding of yourself that she never could, infant.  We will exchange in this way, for I am the master of knowledge, and your master is a master of fading away.”

Loviril sprinkled M’Sava’s grandmother’s bowl of moon sugar across M’Sava’s face, and began to eat.

[itsiotrecords-blog]

http://ift.tt/2t6zXi5

When you need a stronger concoction than the Bloody Mary, these cures from around the globe might be a good thing to try.

#1 Mongolia They are so far the bravest and we think they do this to induce vomiting. Pickled sheep eyeballs are mixed with tomato juice and swallowed to cure hangovers. Who wouldn’t vomit after taking such a concoction?

#2 Japan The Japanese use Umeboshi which is dried sour plums. For those who can’t stand the bitter taste, dip the Umeboshi in green tea and voilà!

#3 Poland To ease a hangover, they drink a glass of brine from sauerkraut or sour pickles.

#4 Sicily A dried bull’s penis is traditionally used to cure hangovers by the Sicilians! It sounds though like a concoction meant to cause vomiting and not for stomach settling.

#5 Russia They have two cures. They either use a slightly alcoholic beverage known as Kvass which is made by soaking dried rye bread with yeast and sugar or a sauna session accompanied by a whipping with birch branches.

#6 Germany A hangover breakfast in Germany is called katerfrühstück. It consists of marinated herring that is wrapped around pickled cucumber and onions. A beer is included at times.

#7 Scotland In this whisky homeland, “The Highland Fling” does the trick. It’s a traditional mix of corn flour, buttermilk, pepper and salt. Nowadays however, a carbonated orange beverage known as “irn-Bru” revives drinkers after a night of heavy drinking.

#8 Britain They use a heaping bacon sandwich to cure their hangovers. This is scientifically proven by a Newcastle University study of 2009. They found out that combining bread and bacon could cure a hangover due to the amino acids provided.

#9 Peru Leftover marinade from ceviche known as the Leche de Tigre is a combination of lemon juice, lime juice, fish scrap, fish stock, ginger and garlic. It eases the throbbing pain one experiences in the head and is also an aphrodisiac.

#10 Romania, Turkey and Mexico The three different countries use tripe soup to get rid of hangovers. The Mexicans call the cow stomach concoction Menudo and it’s made with onion and garlic. They also have another one called vuelva a la vida which means “return to life”. The seafood cocktail is mixed with pico de gallo and tomato juice. In turkey it’s referred to as iskembe corbasi and has a lemon base or tangy vinegar. In Romania, its called ciorba de burta, a salty dish made of root vegetables.

#11 Philippines Eggs have for long been used to cure hangovers but the Philippines suffering from a hangover are encouraged to eat balut which is a poached, fertilized duck embryo. That is if they are brave enough to swallow a partially formed duck that still has its beak attached!

#12 Namibia A clotted cream, spiced rum liqueur, dark rum, and whole cream mixture known as “buffalo milk” does the trick here. It is more alcohol than milk though.

#13 Vietnam It’s illegal to trade Rhino horns but the Vietnamese, soak a ground rhino horn in hot water and use it as a hangover remedy. The remedy is also known to cure cancer. These myths lead to the high prices of Rhino horns, which go for as much as $ 300,000.

Source

[samanthasroberts]

Barbados holiday guide: the best beaches, restaurants, bars and places to stay

You dont need a pop stars budget to enjoy the palm trees and sunny Caribbean sea of this popular island. Genie Austin reveals her homelands best beaches, cheap eats, rum shops and typically tropical activities

When I tell people Im from Barbados, I usually get some variation of the same response. Ooh, paradise, they say, as they conjure up coconut trees, tropical drinks, bright sunshine and foam-crested azure waves.

But on an island where holidays can come at shockingly high prices, this idea of paradise feels woefully beyond the reach of the average traveller. However, as every Bajan knows, the charms of this tiny coral island between the Caribbean and the Atlantic can be unlocked without breaking the bank at a luxury hotel or being limited by a package deal.

There are plenty of charming low-cost hotels, cheap-and-cheerful eateries and bars, under-the-radar beaches and free or low-cost fun activities to be enjoyed if you know where to look.

Barbados map

WHAT TO DO

Take a hike

Barbados doesnt have soaring peaks, waterfalls, rivers or tropical rainforests like some of its neighbours. Nevertheless, it is a tropical island, and its vegetation can be lush, wild, and breathtakingly beautiful. Hike Barbados is a local organisation that conducts free hikes through less accessible areas. Its three-hour hikes run throughout the year, with morning walks starting at 6am, afternoon walks at 3.30pm, and moonlight walks at 5.30pm. barbados.org/hike.htm

Watch the sun sunrise at Farley Hill

Old 19th-century Sugar Plantation House, Farley Hill. Photograph: Alamy

At least once during every visit to Barbados, we get up 45 minutes before dawn and drive to Farley Hill national park to watch the sunrise. Farley Hill, a ruined plantation house, is worth a visit on its own merits, but try sitting atop the hill in its grounds overlooking the Atlantic one cool morning, and watch the sky gradually lighten before the sun finally makes its dramatic appearance. All the while, blackbirds and wood doves lend their approval to this feat of nature, as the wind whistles through the large casuarina trees along the hilltops ridge. Its an unforgettable experience. And although its an isolated spot, its quite safe. On our last visit we noticed the park has added an overnight security guard at the entrance. barbados.org/fhill.htm

Catch a drive-in movie

I grew up going to open-air, drive-in cinemas, so was surprised to find theyre not the norm everywhere. Theres still one in Barbados, the Globe Drive-In in Vauxhall, and I always go when Im home because its a unique experience. Tickets are 6. If your accommodation will permit it, take blankets and pillows for a picnic under the stars while you watch your flick. Youll be almost entirely among locals, and when the film reaches a dramatic moment like the satisfying death of a villain be ready for the chorus of car horns beeping their approval. globedrivein.mobi

See the Christmas parade

Photograph: Alamy

If you have the good fortune to be in Barbados in the festive season, head to Queens Park in the capital, Bridgetown, on Christmas morning, where dressed up people promenade in a ritual going back over 100 years. The park, formerly the grounds of the Commander of the British troops in the West Indies, was acquired by the government in the early 1900s. In 1907 it commissioned the Royal Barbados Police Band to hold free morning Christmas concerts to establish it as a peoples park. Youll be blown away by the colourful and outlandish outfits, sexy Santa costumes and splendid ballgowns. Walking around in 30C heat, rum punch in hand, caught up in the festivity of a tropical Christmas, sums up for me the meaning of peace on Earth and goodwill to all men.

BEST BEACHES

Barbados has some of the most beautiful beaches in the Caribbean and although in recent years erosion has taken its toll, there are still many unspoilt gems. The key is to choose a beach based on what you want to do, or not do.

Paradise Beach

Photograph: Getty Images

The west coast of Barbados is fringed by the calm Caribbean, so is ideal for relaxing. I have a few favourites here, but Paradise Beach is my top pick. It gets its name from a hotel that was here until the 1980s. With its closure, and efforts to open another hotel stalled for years, its an oasis of peace, interrupted only by the occasional boat or jet ski. Most visitors have no idea the beach exists you get there by walking south from neighbouring Batts Rock Beach but its a wonderful place for relaxing, swimming and enjoying the peace.

Paynes Bay

Photograph: Hans-Peter Merten/Getty Images

My second-favourite beach on this coast is a great place to try jet skiing, sailing and waterskiing, and for finding a boat to go swimming with hawksbill and leatherback turtles. There are organised tours from 80, but the many local operators of jet skis and boats will do deals for around half that for a 30-minute excursion, including snorkelling equipment. Paynes Bay is a short walk from the Sandy Lane Hotel beach, for some discreet spotting of celebrities such as Gwyneth Paltrow, Mark Wahlberg, and Naomi Watts.

Pebbles Beach

For a more meditative beach experience head just south of Bridgetown. The water in this sheltered bay is quite still, making it an excellent place for standup paddleboarding (SUP). Paddle Barbados offers classes at 50 for a 90-minute group class, and SUP Yoga at 30 for a 75-minute class. paddlebarbados.com

WHERE TO EAT

Eating out in Barbados can be very expensive, and food costs can exceed those of accommodation. Happily, though, there are plenty of good inexpensive eateries on both sides of the island.

Sand Dunes Bar and Restaurant, Windy Hill

This restaurant on the islands rugged east coast is one of my favourites. The food is simple and unpretentious but fresh and full of flavour. The menu changes daily and consists of local favourites such as breadfruit coucou (mashed with butter and milk), salt fish with gravy, and a salad or side vegetables. There may also be fried flying fish served with rice and peas, and macaroni pie. A full meal will cost around 12 a head. Ermy Bourne Highway, Windy Hill, +1 246 422 9427

Animal Flower Cave, North Point

Aside from the delicious, if slightly pricy, food rotis from 13, salads from 10 what makes this restaurant stand out is its location on the cliffs of North Point, where between December and April humpback whales can be spotted playing in the surf. Beneath the restaurant is the islands only accessible sea cave, Animal Flower cave, known for its fascinating sea anemones (animal flowers). Guided visits adult 8, child 4. +1 246 439 8797, animalflowercave.com

Orange Street Grocer, Speightstown

Bajans are not big coffee drinkers, but a handful of places serve really good coffee, and this beautifully designed cafe, with a large terrace overlooking the ocean, is one of them. Its a great place to start the morning or watch the sun go down in the evening. It serves salads, pizza and other light fare, but I find these a little pricey, so usually stick to coffee and one of their tasty desserts, which cost around 6. theorangestreetgrocer.com

Cuzs Fish Shack, near Pebbles Beach

Even if youre not staying on the south coast, pay a visit to this colourful and somewhat ramshackle Barbadian equivalent of a food truck. Cuz first became a favourite among divers and surfers on nearby Pebbles Beach. The cutters the local term for any sandwich made using a bun known as salt bread are filled with fried steakfish, tomato, lettuce, Bajan pepper sauce and a bit of mayo, with optional toppings of cheese or a fried egg. They cost 25 and are delicious with a cold Banks beer or a Plus, an energy drink made from sugar cane. On Facebook

WHERE TO DRINK

Rum shops, everywhere

John Moore Bar; one of many rum shops on the island. Photograph: Alamy

Bajans like to boast that Barbados is the birthplace of rum. Records show that the honour might actually belong to Brazil, but Barbados is the unrivalled champion of the rum shop scene in the Caribbean they have been part of our landscape for more than 300 years. They come in every shape, colour and size, and are much more than just a bar: theyre a place for friends to meet, drink, talk politics, tell jokes, and play dominoes. And they are incredibly cheap. In general, a beer costs about 1.50, a rum punch (a deliciously refreshing concoction of rum, lime juice, sugar cane syrup, a splash of Angostura Bitters and a scrape of nutmeg) is 4, and a small bottle of rum is just 2. The best approach is to simply walk into any shop that catches your fancy they are convivial places where everyone is welcomed.

One Love Bar, Holetown

On one of my return visits, I wandered into this bar with my husband Andrew. Id never been there before, but we were tired and needed a break from the heat. We ordered two bottles of Plus, and were promptly told by one of the patrons, who was already pretty plastered at 3pm, that men dont drink Plus. He then proceeded to pour Andrew some of his white rum, and there followed a pleasant afternoon of aimless, good-natured chatter and much drinking. One Love Bar is a bit of an anomaly among the expensive restaurants and swanky boutiques of the west coast, and were always relieved when we return to see it still there going strong. 1st Street, Holetown, on Facebook

Bay Tavern, Martins Bay

Bajans come from all corners to this east coast fishing village to lime (hang out) and fire a rum. Thursday afternoons are particularly popular, so stop by then as it has a real party atmosphere. It also does lunch and dinner. Local dishes, grilled marlin, rice and peas and fried plantain, say, are delicious at around 10. On Facebook

WHERE TO STAY

South Gap Hotel, St Lawrence Gap

Photograph: Leslie St John

The south coast of Barbados has a party reputation, so this is the place for those whose idea of a perfect holiday involves frequent nights out. The South Gap is a modern hotel with pool, restaurant and bar in St Lawrence Gap, a lively 1.3 km stretch of road in the parish of Christ Church. A studio for two with balcony and mini kitchen costs from 100 B&B. southgapbarbados.com

Beckys by the Sea, Fitts Village

Just across the road from the beach in Fitts Village on the west coast, this modern guesthouse has two en suite rooms from around 50 a night. Guests have use of living areas, several patios and kitchen. Beckys doesnt offer breakfast but promises that youll wake to freshly brewed coffee, herbal teas, local fruit and juice when in season. For more substantial fare, take a bus to Holetown, a few miles up the road, where BeannBagel cafe does a real Bajan breakfast of fried flying fish and bakes (the local version of a pancake) or a more traditional cooked breakfast. beckysbythesea.com

The Stables, Little Holders House, Holetown

Photograph: Genie Austin

For 55 a night for two, this spacious, fully equipped cottage a few miles further up the west coast has a large patio, open-plan layout and a mixture of traditional and modern furniture. It offers quintessential Caribbean living. airbnb.com

Rostrevor Hotel, St Lawrence Gap

Photograph: Leslie St John

The most affordable approach to a Barbados family holiday is to self-cater, but to escape household chores, try the Rostrevor Hotel. This beachfront property on the south coast has doubles with small kitchens from about 94 a night room only. It also has a poolside bar-restaurant. rostrevorbarbados.com

Source: http://allofbeer.com/2017/06/07/barbados-holiday-guide-the-best-beaches-restaurants-bars-and-places-to-stay/

from All of Beer https://allofbeer.wordpress.com/2017/06/07/barbados-holiday-guide-the-best-beaches-restaurants-bars-and-places-to-stay/

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Barbados holiday guide: the best beaches, restaurants, bars and places to stay

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Barbados holiday guide: the best beaches, restaurants, bars and places to stay

More from Guardian Travel…

Barbados holidays

Holiday guides

You don’t need a pop star’s budget to enjoy the palm trees and ‘sunny Caribbean sea’ of this popular island. Genie Austin reveals her homeland’s best beaches, cheap eats, rum shops and typically tropical activities

Whoa! … Pebbles Beach, near Bridgetown, Barbados. Photograph: Alan Copson/Getty Images

Barbados holiday guide: the best beaches, restaurants, bars and places to stay

You don’t need a pop star’s budget to enjoy the palm trees and ‘sunny Caribbean sea’ of this popular island. Genie Austin reveals her homeland’s best beaches, cheap eats, rum shops and typically tropical activities

When I tell people I’m from Barbados, I usually get some variation of the same response. “Ooh, paradise,” they say, as they conjure up coconut trees, tropical drinks, bright sunshine and foam-crested azure waves.

But on an island where holidays can come at shockingly high prices, this idea of paradise feels woefully beyond the reach of the average traveller. However, as every Bajan knows, the charms of this tiny coral island between the Caribbean and the Atlantic can be unlocked without breaking the bank at a luxury hotel or being limited by a package deal.

There are plenty of charming low-cost hotels, cheap-and-cheerful eateries and bars, under-the-radar beaches and free or low-cost fun activities to be enjoyed if you know where to look.

Barbados map

WHAT TO DO

Take a hike

Barbados doesn’t have soaring peaks, waterfalls, rivers or tropical rainforests like some of its neighbours. Nevertheless, it is a tropical island, and its vegetation can be lush, wild, and breathtakingly beautiful. Hike Barbados is a local organisation that conducts free hikes through less accessible areas. Its three-hour hikes run throughout the year, with morning walks starting at 6am, afternoon walks at 3.30pm, and moonlight walks at 5.30pm. • barbados.org/hike.htm

Watch the sun sunrise at Farley Hill

Old 19th-century Sugar Plantation House, Farley Hill. Photograph: Alamy

At least once during every visit to Barbados, we get up 45 minutes before dawn and drive to Farley Hill national park to watch the sunrise. Farley Hill, a ruined plantation house, is worth a visit on its own merits, but try sitting atop the hill in its grounds overlooking the Atlantic one cool morning, and watch the sky gradually lighten before the sun finally makes its dramatic appearance. All the while, blackbirds and wood doves lend their approval to this feat of nature, as the wind whistles through the large casuarina trees along the hilltop’s ridge. It’s an unforgettable experience. And although it’s an isolated spot, it’s quite safe. On our last visit we noticed the park has added an overnight security guard at the entrance. • barbados.org/fhill.htm

Catch a drive-in movie

I grew up going to open-air, drive-in cinemas, so was surprised to find they’re not the norm everywhere. There’s still one in Barbados, the Globe Drive-In in Vauxhall, and I always go when I’m home because it’s a unique experience. Tickets are £6. If your accommodation will permit it, take blankets and pillows for a picnic under the stars while you watch your flick. You’ll be almost entirely among locals, and when the film reaches a dramatic moment – like the satisfying death of a villain – be ready for the chorus of car horns beeping their approval. • globedrivein.mobi

See the Christmas parade

Photograph: Alamy

If you have the good fortune to be in Barbados in the festive season, head to Queens Park in the capital, Bridgetown, on Christmas morning, where dressed up people promenade in a ritual going back over 100 years. The park, formerly the grounds of the Commander of the British troops in the West Indies, was acquired by the government in the early 1900s. In 1907 it commissioned the Royal Barbados Police Band to hold free morning Christmas concerts to establish it as a people’s park. You’ll be blown away by the colourful and outlandish outfits, sexy Santa costumes and splendid ballgowns. Walking around in 30C heat, rum punch in hand, caught up in the festivity of a tropical Christmas, sums up for me the meaning of peace on Earth and goodwill to all men.

BEST BEACHES

Barbados has some of the most beautiful beaches in the Caribbean and although in recent years erosion has taken its toll, there are still many unspoilt gems. The key is to choose a beach based on what you want to do, or not do.

Paradise Beach

Photograph: Getty Images

The west coast of Barbados is fringed by the calm Caribbean, so is ideal for relaxing. I have a few favourites here, but Paradise Beach is my top pick. It gets its name from a hotel that was here until the 1980s. With its closure, and efforts to open another hotel stalled for years, it’s an oasis of peace, interrupted only by the occasional boat or jet ski. Most visitors have no idea the beach exists – you get there by walking south from neighbouring Batts Rock Beach – but it’s a wonderful place for relaxing, swimming and enjoying the peace.

Paynes Bay

Photograph: Hans-Peter Merten/Getty Images

My second-favourite beach on this coast is a great place to try jet skiing, sailing and waterskiing, and for finding a boat to go swimming with hawksbill and leatherback turtles. There are organised tours from £80, but the many local operators of jet skis and boats will do deals for around half that for a 30-minute excursion, including snorkelling equipment. Paynes Bay is a short walk from the Sandy Lane Hotel beach, for some discreet spotting of celebrities such as Gwyneth Paltrow, Mark Wahlberg, and Naomi Watts.

Pebbles Beach

For a more meditative beach experience head just south of Bridgetown. The water in this sheltered bay is quite still, making it an excellent place for standup paddleboarding (SUP). Paddle Barbados offers classes at £50 for a 90-minute group class, and SUP Yoga at £30 for a 75-minute class. • paddlebarbados.com

WHERE TO EAT

Eating out in Barbados can be very expensive, and food costs can exceed those of accommodation. Happily, though, there are plenty of good inexpensive eateries on both sides of the island.

Sand Dunes Bar and Restaurant, Windy Hill

This restaurant on the island’s rugged east coast is one of my favourites. The food is simple and unpretentious but fresh and full of flavour. The menu changes daily and consists of local favourites such as breadfruit coucou (mashed with butter and milk), salt fish with gravy, and a salad or side vegetables. There may also be fried flying fish served with rice and peas, and macaroni pie. A full meal will cost around £12 a head. • Ermy Bourne Highway, Windy Hill, +1 246 422 9427

Animal Flower Cave, North Point

Aside from the delicious, if slightly pricy, food – rotis from £13, salads from £10 – what makes this restaurant stand out is its location on the cliffs of North Point, where between December and April humpback whales can be spotted playing in the surf. Beneath the restaurant is the island’s only accessible sea cave, Animal Flower cave, known for its fascinating sea anemones (animal flowers). Guided visits adult £8, child £4. • +1 246 439 8797, animalflowercave.com

Orange Street Grocer, Speightstown

Bajans are not big coffee drinkers, but a handful of places serve really good coffee, and this beautifully designed cafe, with a large terrace overlooking the ocean, is one of them. It’s a great place to start the morning or watch the sun go down in the evening. It serves salads, pizza and other light fare, but I find these a little pricey, so usually stick to coffee and one of their tasty desserts, which cost around £6. • theorangestreetgrocer.com

Cuz’s Fish Shack, near Pebbles Beach

Even if you’re not staying on the south coast, pay a visit to this colourful and somewhat ramshackle Barbadian equivalent of a food truck. Cuz first became a favourite among divers and surfers on nearby Pebbles Beach. The “cutters” – the local term for any sandwich made using a bun known as salt bread – are filled with fried steakfish, tomato, lettuce, Bajan pepper sauce and a bit of mayo, with optional toppings of cheese or a fried egg. They cost £2–£5 and are delicious with a cold Banks beer or a Plus, an energy drink made from sugar cane. • On Facebook

WHERE TO DRINK

Rum shops, everywhere

John Moore Bar; one of many rum shops on the island. Photograph: Alamy

Bajans like to boast that Barbados is the birthplace of rum. Records show that the honour might actually belong to Brazil, but Barbados is the unrivalled champion of the rum shop scene in the Caribbean – they have been part of our landscape for more than 300 years. They come in every shape, colour and size, and are much more than just a bar: they’re a place for friends to meet, drink, talk politics, tell jokes, and play dominoes. And they are incredibly cheap. In general, a beer costs about £1.50, a rum punch (a deliciously refreshing concoction of rum, lime juice, sugar cane syrup, a splash of Angostura Bitters and a scrape of nutmeg) is £4, and a small bottle of rum is just £2. The best approach is to simply walk into any shop that catches your fancy – they are convivial places where everyone is welcomed.

One Love Bar, Holetown

On one of my return visits, I wandered into this bar with my husband Andrew. I’d never been there before, but we were tired and needed a break from the heat. We ordered two bottles of Plus, and were promptly told by one of the patrons, who was already pretty plastered at 3pm, that men don’t drink Plus. He then proceeded to pour Andrew some of his white rum, and there followed a pleasant afternoon of aimless, good-natured chatter and much drinking. One Love Bar is a bit of an anomaly among the expensive restaurants and swanky boutiques of the west coast, and we’re always relieved when we return to see it still there going strong. • 1st Street, Holetown, on Facebook

Bay Tavern, Martin’s Bay

Bajans come from all corners to this east coast fishing village to “lime” (hang out) and “fire a rum”. Thursday afternoons are particularly popular, so stop by then as it has a real party atmosphere. It also does lunch and dinner. Local dishes, grilled marlin, rice and peas and fried plantain, say, are delicious at around £10. • On Facebook

WHERE TO STAY

South Gap Hotel, St Lawrence Gap

Photograph: Leslie St John

The south coast of Barbados has a party reputation, so this is the place for those whose idea of a perfect holiday involves frequent nights out. The South Gap is a modern hotel with pool, restaurant and bar in St Lawrence Gap, a lively 1.3 km stretch of road in the parish of Christ Church. A studio for two with balcony and mini kitchen costs from £100 B&B. • southgapbarbados.com

Becky’s by the Sea, Fitts Village

Just across the road from the beach in Fitts Village on the west coast, this modern guesthouse has two en suite rooms from around £50 a night. Guests have use of living areas, several patios and kitchen. Becky’s doesn’t offer breakfast but promises that you’ll wake to “freshly brewed coffee, herbal teas, local fruit and juice when in season”. For more substantial fare, take a bus to Holetown, a few miles up the road, where Bean’n’Bagel cafe does a real Bajan breakfast of fried flying fish and bakes (the local version of a pancake) or a more traditional cooked breakfast. • beckysbythesea.com

The Stables, Little Holders House, Holetown

Photograph: Genie Austin

For £55 a night for two, this spacious, fully equipped cottage a few miles further up the west coast has a large patio, open-plan layout and a mixture of traditional and modern furniture. It offers quintessential Caribbean living. • airbnb.com

Rostrevor Hotel, St Lawrence Gap

Photograph: Leslie St John

The most affordable approach to a Barbados family holiday is to self-cater, but to escape household chores, try the Rostrevor Hotel. This beachfront property on the south coast has doubles with small kitchens from about £94 a night room only. It also has a poolside bar-restaurant. • rostrevorbarbados.com

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