#Walking Trip Balkan

[balkanscore2024]

Just a little dog ❤️

I love my hubbys godmother’s dog ❤️ Bogyo is so sweet but his barks are scary 🤨 And well he dose bark at everyone and people get scared but he never bites 🥳

[bulgara]

Ardino // Balkan // Devil’s Bridge // BG 🇧🇬

[crushribbons]

𝖇𝖎𝖗𝖉𝖎𝖊, 𝖕𝖙. 𝖎𝖎

summary: Sebastian Sallow should have been a Ravenclaw, again. (series masterlist)

cw: 3.5k words, fluff, light angst-adjacent content but really just more pining, brief smut (18+ ONLY), oral sex (f receiving), penetrative sex, suggestions of dubcon, fem reader, i make you think abt seb in a towel again 😵‍💫 request

a/n: sorry for teasin' xx laney

The same annoying tendril of hair fell in her eye for the hundredth time that hour. She huffed hard in frustration and slapped it (and her own face, a bit) away, looking back down at the mostly-blank roll of parchment in front of her. The essay would not write itself, no matter how long she spent procrastinating by looking for and through any library books that would tell her how to get the essay to write itself. History of Magic was a special torture unlike any other. Might be best to pull out the old “dugbog ate my essay” routine on the impassive Professor Binns.

Besides, even if she had wanted to wax on about the Balkan Wizarding Summit of 1678 for several pages, she wouldn’t have been able to. Not with the thoughts that had been occupying the entirety of her brain since that fateful night two weeks ago. The night she kept finding herself returning to whenever her head hit her pillow, or whenever she had a quiet, absent moment brewing Wiggenweld in Potions, or whenever she walked or thought or breathed. The night when she’d witnessed her dear old chum Sebastian dripping wet out of the bath, water running down every line of his tanned and lightly freckled torso right to the top of a towel that was slung low on hips boasting a noticeable “V”, hair stuck to his forehead and cheeks flushed with embarrassment. The sight had floored her in such an unexpected way that a hysterical giggle had popped out of her mouth before she could stop it, and she saw Sebastian’s jaw tick in annoyance. 

As she’d walked away from the encounter, she had tried with all her might to pretend it hadn’t happened. It was funny, really, a silly and awkward little moment between two friends. That was all.

That was all, she’d reminded herself the next morning, brushing her teeth after a night of tossing and turning and peering at her puffy face in the bathroom mirror.

No great ordeal, she’d chastised her active imagination as she hopped on her broom and did a few laps around the Quidditch fields, hoping the bitter cold air would jolt her back to her senses.

And he probably doesn’t even remember it, she reasoned with herself every night while she closed the curtains around her bed, cast a silencing charm, and pulled her nightgown up around her waist. Sebastian had never been something to look at like that before, so why was she whining out his name every night, a hand that she desperately wished was his stuffed inside her underwear. 

This was Sebastian, she was dreaming about, after all. Her birdie, her inquisitive and acerbic classmate who seemed to need to know everything about her and whose laugh devolved into fits of snorting whenever he saw someone trip. And it wasn’t as if she’d seen him in the full nude; why was the sight of his bare chest and back sending her into such fits of ecstasy? It felt ridiculous, yet logic rarely won out over the way her heart pounded painfully whenever he made eye contact with her now.

Two days after the incident, they’d met in their usual seats in Transfiguration, and Sebastian had immediately broken the tension she was sure existed by bluntly saying, “I’m going to keep all my clothes on this time, I swear,” as she sat down beside him. She could feel red shame creeping up the back of her neck and prayed it wasn’t appearing over the top of her robes. 

“Good, I nearly had to go to the hospital wing and get my eyes removed after that,” she had sniffed in return, but both of them grinned and settled into their old routine of passing notes and coughing loudly whenever Ominis had to answer a question. For reasons unclear, it drove him mad.

Everything gradually fell back to normal, though she found that she could no longer use her affectionate nickname for him. She’d tried, once, when Sebastian had been pestering her for information on the Arithmancy exam she’d taken earlier in the day and that he was now staring down the barrel of. The stress had him grabbing at handfuls of his hair so they stuck out like he’d been hit with a blasting curse, and he’d begged for every detail she could remember, until she finally spluttered, “Questions, questions, questions! Leave me alone and go study yourself, birdie!” 

His mouth had clamped shut. Rare. Too rare. 

He had seemed so uncomfortable after that, shifting around in his chair so much and eventually getting to his feet and leaving with a weak joke, that she’d made up her mind never to call him birdie again. Clearly, he had lost his preference for it after their nighttime encounter, probably assuming condescension on her part. Nothing could be further than the truth; she just adored his incessant chirping so much that she wished she could carry him around on her finger all day. 

Whatever his thoughts on the matter were, something small had shifted between them that she couldn’t quite place her finger on. As the empty parchment roll looked glumly back at her in the dim candlelight of the library, she decided that she had had enough working for one day and slammed the tome in front of her shut. Dust flew everywhere and she spat it out of her mouth with disdain.

Trudging along to the Great Hall to see if there were any scraps of dinner still left, she considered a few other interactions with Sebastian and deemed them perfectly normal. The nickname was what seemed to set him off. Oh well, she sighed. Probably best that I don’t have a pet name for the man I can’t stop picturing naked, anyway.

Ominis and Sebastian were seated across from each other at the Slytherin table, and after passing by her own house table to snag a plate of shepherd’s pie and a small dessert, she sat down beside Sebastian and asked him how the Arithmancy exam had gone after all.

He screwed his eyes shut and groaned, his upper lip curling and head thrown back to expose his long neck. Her stomach swirled and she set the fork that had been on its way to her mouth back down. This man now made her lose all sense of reason. Her body was reacting in ways she wasn’t even familiar with now, all because of one stupid towel. “Oh, please don’t ask. I’ll be surprised if they even let me take my NEWT in Arithmancy. Horrendous.” 

She tried to pull herself together and respond as normal friends normally do. “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad. You always do wonderfully on exams and beat yourself up far more than you should,” she murmured evenly, picking at the pie. She turned to the man who looked far more appetizing. 

“Well, someone needs to,” he pouted, sticking his bottom lip out and resting his head on his hand as he looked at her. Ominis rolled his eyes and shook his head. 

“The ego on you,” he sighed, scraping the last bit of chocolate torte on his plate onto his fork. “Surprised your head doesn’t weigh down the rest of your body.” “It’s balanced out by the monster I’ve got down here,” Sebastian grinned like a devil and patted his upper thigh.

It’s a joke, it’s a joke, it’s a stupid joke made by a dumb boy with an ugly face and no sense of humor, it’s a joke. The mantra rattled around in her head for a few good seconds then drifted out her ears as she abandoned it in favor of considering what it might look like if he wasn’t joking. It was very unhelpful. 

She cleared her throat and pushed the shepherd’s pie away from her, replacing it with the dessert instead. It wasn’t until she scooped up a piece and brought it up to her mouth that her distracted brain realized what it was.

“Ah, my favorite again. Finally,” Sebastian said, and then he was leaning over her, hand resting on the top of her leg to steady himself as he intercepted the piece of cherry tart and pulled it off her fork with his teeth before she could eat it herself. Everything inside her shut down. Her mouth hung agape as she watched him hum in rapturous delight and chew the tart. He gave the top of her leg a swat and said, “All yours now. I’ve already had three.”

Words wouldn’t come. Thoughts wouldn’t come. Only the sensation of his large, warm hand pressing into her leg and the proximity of his face to hers as he’d stolen the bite existed. She had been able to smell whatever scent he wore, and it was something like pine needles and black pepper, although maybe that was just residual from a Herbology class. Even after he’d made a parting joke and climbed to his feet, Ominis and him exiting the hall engaged in a discussion of Quidditch prospects, the scent filled her nose and drove her light-headed. 

Having a massive, soul-sucking crush on your friend was not for the faint of heart, she decided, as she pushed the tart away, too, and left for her dormitory. Her insides were wound so tight she was worried they would snap, and her panties were so covered in slick by the time she reached her empty bedroom that she stripped down and tugged on her dressing gown. A bath, she needed a nice, hot bath to wash away the grime of her thoughts.

The dressing gown’s thin material slipped off her shoulders as she gathered clean pajamas and braided her hair up and off her neck, and she grunted with annoyance. She had really appreciated the gift of the robe, a hand-me-down from Poppy, but the aged and stretched cotton would not stay up on either of their shoulders. She tied the belt as tight as she could around her waist and slipped out of the dormitory, making her way through the sea of students sweating over homework and revisions in the common room.

The prefects’ bathroom sounded heavenly, especially as the cold stone floor of the castle bit through her thin slippers and the passing of a careless ghost’s cloak through her right shoulder left her shivering. She ambled up stairs and down them, through corridors, and used more than one hidden passage, old hat to her at this point, until she ended up in the faculty tower. Only a few more flights separated her and warm, soapy relief from the thoughts of Sebastian plaguing her. 

It wasn’t terribly late yet, and a couple Ravenclaw students mingled on the landing just below the bathrooms. They waved at her and she waved back, their names escaping her but giving them a jovial smile all the same. Beginning her final ascent, she watched the steps in front of her and tried to recall where she knew their faces from. She was still racking her brain for their identities when she ran into a wall.

“Ugh!” she cried, irritated that she had been jostled out of her thoughts by the unyielding stone. Then the stone did yield and she looked up, startled.

“We can’t keep meeting like this,” Sebastian said with raised eyebrows. He stood on the step above her, wearing dark blue pajamas, a towel slung over his shoulder and wet hair carefully parted and combed. Even fully-clothed, he took her breath away. As usual. A small knick under his jaw told her he’d cut himself shaving, and she wished with everything inside her that she could kiss the tiny cut. Not really friendship behavior, though.

She tried to clear her throat, searching for something witty to say in return. “No,” was what she finally came up with. “We can’t.” 

“Prefects’ bathroom is superior, isn’t it?”

“Mmmm.”

“Aren’t you glad to see I remembered these this time?” He plucked at the pinstripe pajama pants. 

No. “Yes, I certainly am.”

“Are you going to bed straight after?”

“I think so.”

“What time are you getting breakfast?”

“Is that enough questions yet?!” She spluttered, feeling her nerves recede a bit as his chirping tickled her. He smiled broadly.

“What else can you expect from your b-birdie?” He tripped over the last word and his smile faltered. Something unchecked in her chest stirred. Sebastian Sallow did not trip over his words. He picked each one carefully and considered the potential outcomes they would elicit in every situation. Why was this one ridiculous little pet name causing the both of them so much awkwardness?

She opened her mouth to try and tell him that she expected nothing less, but stopped when she saw his hazel eyes suddenly widen and travel down from her face to her chest. Before she had time to be confused, she realized that her shoulders were suddenly freezing and goosebumps had broken out over her clavicle. The damned dressing gown had once again slipped down, nearly to her elbows, and couldn’t pull it back up fast enough. A large swathe of her chest had been exposed, and despite the cold, heat flared in her sternum and rose up her neck to her face as she yanked the gown up and clutched it closed at her neck. 

“Fuck off, it was an accident,” she hissed without thinking when Sebastian’s eyes did not return to their normal size. Humiliation was seeping into her bones, settling there like a disease that no healer could cure. Things had just returned to normal, (well, as normal as they could get now that she could think of little else than Sebastian’s body), and now they were having a repeat performance. Whatever god was orchestrating this rigamarole had a cruel spirit indeed. 

“I-I know,” Sebastian stammered. Ever the charming Slytherin, he recovered himself quickly and added, “Hey, we’re even now. You saw me and I saw–nothing!” He turned course mid-sentence and threw his hands up in a defensive pose when she glared at him. He really never knew when the right and wrong times to make a joke were.

“Just…good night!” She all but snapped, brushing past him and up the rest of the stairs, not bothering to look back at him as she jogged towards the bathroom door. The prefect standing sentry outside waved her in and she bolted for the women’s baths. 

How fucking humiliating could life get? Like a silly, love-drunk girl, she had developed some very confusing and sinful feelings for Sebastian, all because she’d seen him a little bit wet. Granted, his tanned skin had been shining under the droplets of water, and his back was taut and muscular from years of bludger-beating, and his legs were long enough to make her lose her way, and gods, what on earth had that thin, grey towel been concealing…

As she sunk into the steaming bath and mounds of bubbles, she let out one final wail of lament for her dignity before plunging underwater.

Her dreams that night reached a new summit of horror.

First, she was lost in a maze of hallways. They weren’t Hogwarts hallways, but she knew she was running late for an exam all the same. Every corner she rounded and door she opened displayed empty rooms and brick walls. Time ticked past at an extraordinary pace, the exam start time creeping steadily nearer but her destination refused to show itself, despite her panicked sprinting. When she finally found herself in something resembling a classroom, fifty students crouched over individual desks and scribbling away, she felt a momentary wash of relief. 

Then, a hand was wrapping itself around her leg and she was screaming. The hand yanked her backwards out of the classroom and down the hall, the room fading from her view as her unseen kidnapper pulled her at an impossible pace. A bright flash of light and she felt the hand unwrap from her calf and something retreat into the darkness. Sebastian was suddenly in front of her, taking her head in his hands and murmuring something she couldn’t make out. He seemed to be concerned about her, but all she could feel was his warmth and safety and she felt herself tumbling into his lake-hazel eyes. 

They were kissing before she could figure out why the exam didn’t seem to matter anymore. “Oh, God, sweetheart,” Sebastian was rasping as he pulled his lips away, face hazy with want. She whined and tugged him back to her, and she found herself in a location she couldn’t quite make out in the semi-darkness, but her back was pressed against something more comfortable than the marble hallway floors that Sebastian had rescued her from. 

He was slotting a leg in between hers and kneading it gently around. Her body felt vaguely light and floaty, a new breed of arousal building as she bumped herself against his leg and pulled his bottom lip into her mouth. 

“Seb,” she gasped, but he was already gone, pulling her dressing gown–goddamn that dressing gown, haunting her even here!–down and ripping it off entirely so she was exposed to him. Dream Sebastian had longer hair. It curled slightly around his ears and brushed the bottom of his neck, tickling her when he leaned back down to kiss her neck with hot, wet lips. 

She would later admit that she quite preferred the power she held in the realm of her subconscious to the power she held in reality; perhaps wielding ancient magic was a benefit for some, but willing Sebastian’s clothes away and feeling the all-too-real heat of him pressed against her naked body gave her more of a thrill than she ever could have summoned.

In an instant, she found him sunk between her legs, hot mouth ghosting over her weeping heat and then delving into it. She shrieked, letting it dissolve into a moan as his tongue swirled around her clit and he sucked it into a gentle kiss. Her hands dug into his sandy brown hair, using the extra length to her advantage and tugging. Why was it so long?

"You taste so divine, I knew it," he was groaning. "Better than any fucking tart."

Time was strange. They stayed wrapped in each other for a year and a minute simultaneously, and then he was fucking her with a savage gentleness that made her weep. His slow, hard movements were almost cruel in their sweetness. And she even managed to notice, through her daze, that his cock was just as he'd promised, its thickness splitting her open and making her eyes roll back in her head.

He was panting, his words once more indiscernible but seemingly lust-fueled. The sensation of his cock pushing into her made her body, small under his powerful frame, shake. Using his defined abdomen, he pushed himself up as he continued fucking her and cried, “Shit, baby, come for me! I’m all fucking yours.”

Her orgasm gained ground and was cresting high and wide when he added, “Let me see you cry when you come real pretty, please? Hm? Come on, I’ll be a good little birdie, I swear.”

Her eyes snapped open and she sucked in a huge breath of air, chest heaving, her sheets wrapped around and clinging to her sweat-ridden body. She was positively drenched, both outwardly and inwardly, and the rising frustration when she realized that she was very much alone in her bed and that the dream was slipping through the cracks in her memory like water made her roll over, stuff her face into her pillow, and scream.

Ominis thought about what a wonderful friend he was for putting up with that disorganized slob Sallow as he dug through the disorganized slob’s school bag for a new bottle of ink. When he had run out in the middle of his homework, Sebastian had absently waved him upstairs to the bedroom and told him to grab a fresh bottle from his bag, his gaze never leaving the teetering tower of shortbread he was building. 

“What a prince,” Ominis grunted to himself, feeling around for anything glass and instead receiving several paper cuts from the loose pages Sebastian kept stuffed away, in case he was ever caught needing garbage. His slim hand closed around a small bottle and he smiled in triumph, eager to be done with his spelunking expedition. As he yanked the bottle through the layers of debris in the bag, the force required caused him to stumble backwards, just a step, and into Sebastian’s nightstand. Something thudded onto the floor and Ominis bent to sweep his hands over the floor and find it.

A book, hardcover, without rips or tears to indicate its age. Ominis picked it up and felt around the cover, curious to see what nighttime reading his friend was doing, and curious to see if it happened to be his first voluntary non-Quidditch-related read. The embossed letters on the front were so shiny and slick that he found it hard to make out the title using just his touch, so Ominis pulled his wand from his pocket and held it over the book, words coming into clearer focus in his mind’s eye. 

Legilimency and the Dreamer, the book proclaimed. A subtitle at the bottom of the cover read: “Infiltrating the sleeping mind, for the beginner.”

Ominis snorted and threw the book back on Sebastian’s night stand, wondering whom it actually belonged to. Definitely not Sallow's.

pt. 3

masterlist

[golbrocklovely]

outsiders // colin and penelope

A/N: i know this is unlike anything i've posted before on here. i'll be honest, idk how else to explain this other than i direly need to see luke newton play a vampire, so this is about as good as it's gonna get until then. this is also very vaguely based off of a tweet that said this picture of polin makes them look like a cunty vampire couple and you know what??? they ain't wrong about that lol i used direct lines from the show, particularly in the drinking scene with the boys and the carriage love confession (which will be in part two). there are also some quotes and line sprinkled throughout that are similar to those in the show/book. but most of the dialogue is not from the show/book directly. also this is the first time i've ever written a fanfic using characters rather than real ppl… well minus a spn fanfic i never finished. so, please be kind since it's all fiction anyway. hope you enjoy and lmk what you think :)

prompt: Colin is trying to deal with the fact that he is not only in love with his best friend, but that he is incredibly lost as to who he is as a person. It also doesn't help that he's a monster; a vampire. Pen just wants her freedom, her ability to be Whistledown without anymore people finding out. And in her mind, Debling is the solution to her problem. But one fateful night brings Penelope and Colin together in ways they never imagined.

trigger warning: jealous!colin, protective!colin, AU!vampire, the entire bridgerton family are vampire, colin's friends are dicks lol, formal english (but that's a given), vampire powers, manipulation, ANGSTY AS HELL, idiots to lovers (not until part two), somewhat of a cliff hanger but not really since the next part will be out soon, mentions of blood/blood drinking

word count: 3054

~~~~~~~~~~~

Colin knew deep within himself that going out with Fife and the rest of his so-called friends was a mistake. Mostly because his mind was preoccupied tonight, many thoughts swirling around him; all of which pertained to a certain red head he had known since childhood. The mistake was thinking that he could relax while being around these exhausting men and their childish ways.

However he really did need some revelry after what he witnessed during the day.

When he walked into the library party and caught Pen with Debling, smiling and laughing at whatever he was saying, his blood boiled. A permanent frown etched into his face and had stayed there the entirety of the day.

"Say, what ails you, Bridgerton? Are you not enjoying your night?"

Colin turned to Stanton, blinking slowly. He took a swig of his drink, shaking his head. "I am well. Please continue with your story."

Stanton smirked, turning back to the table, "On my Grand Tour, I encountered this Greek girl in the Balkans. My bear leader..."

Colin zoned out again, unable to truly listen much longer to the men's stories of different conquests they had over the summer. His mind was still reeling, his thoughts ever consumed by the image of Penelope. Of their shared kiss. Of his constant reoccurring dreams of her and him. 

"She sounds like the young woman who made my time in the French Quarter worth the length of the voyage. Much to offer upstairs, and I do not mean her mind." Lord Wilding motioned with his hands, causing all three men to burst into laughter. Colin sighed, staring at the ground for a moment.

Fife looked up at Colin, "What about you, Bridgerton? You were gone for quite a while. I am sure the girls of summer made your trip quite... fulfilling?"

The gentlemen chortled, and Colin could feel them all eyeing him, waiting for an answer. "I did tell you my story of the contessa, did I not?"

"Yes, but you did not give details." Stanton whined.

Colin half-heartedly smiled, "Well, a gentleman must keep some things to himself."

Wilding pffted, "Oh, come now. I do not see a gentleman amongst us."

"I concur with you there." Colin shook a finger at them. The gentlemen gave him a quizzical look, freezing him for a moment. "Oh, forgive me… But it is tiring, is it not? The necessity imposed on us to remain cavalier about the one thing in life that holds genuine meaning. Do you not find it lonely?"

Colin gazed upon the men, hoping to see agreeing eyes; but instead the table chuckled at his expense. He sat back in his chair, defeated.

"This wouldn't have anything to do with a certain Featherington girl, now would it?" Fife teased, his glazed eyes staring at Colin's face.

"You know, Bridgerton? Congratulations are in order. I heard that apparently Debling plans to propose to her." Stanton raised his glass, "The marriage mart whisperer actually made a match. Cheers."

"May God have mercy on that poor man's soul." Wilding whispered, finishing his drink.

Colin narrowed his eyes, "I beg your pardon?"

"I know you have a fondness for the girl, but I cannot fathom what type of wife she would be. I would never marry a Featherington, but especially Penelope." Wilding remarked, almost disgusted.

"Maybe that's why Debling plans to travel for years." Fife quipped.

"Well, like your lady in the French Quarter, she at least has a lot to offer upstairs." Stanton snickered.

Colin leapt to his feet, his chair slamming to the floor. His hands were clenched tightly at his sides as his anger raged through him. His red eyes shot up, glaring deeply into the gentlemen's souls, captivating them instantly.

"You will never speak about Penelope or the Featheringtons ever again. And if ever asked about them, you will say nothing but the kindest of words." Colin grunted, his gaze shifting from man to man, "If I ever hear you speak badly about her or her family again, I will tear your throat out with my teeth. Your trivial existence will be ended, and the ladies of the Ton will be better for it... Know this as true, but forget I said this."

The gentlemen blinked rapidly, clearing their throats and looking at each other confused. Fife glanced behind Colin, "What happened to your chair?"

Colin smoothed out his vest, calming himself, "Oh, it must have fallen over when I stood up. Goodbye gentlemen, I am growing rather tired of this night."

~~~

Colin had the privilege of being born a vampire; and with that privilege came the ability to manipulate those around him. However, there were only two types of people he couldn't manipulate: other vampires - which really only applied to his family since he knew of no others - and those he was in love with. That applied to all the Bridgerton siblings. It was their own little family quirk, as they so lovingly called it. In a way, it kept everyone in check. Because they knew out of everyone in the Ton, the people they loved couldn't fall victim to their ability.

But luckily for everyone in the Ton, the Bridgertons were a good family. Violet had taught her children to seldom use their ability, and the children all followed suit. Hyacinth and Gregory did occasionally use it on the maids in the house, so that he could get extra sweets or she, the latest issue of Whistledown before bed; but for the most part all of the Bridgerton siblings fell in line with Violet's beliefs. 

While most of the Bridgertons enjoyed being vampires, Colin did not. Maybe it was because he was battling with himself over who he truly was. All this did was make him feel even more like an outsider. He wanted to be normal, to be known and loved for who he is, but how could he? He was a monster.

And now this monster, deeply annoyed by the past couple weeks of events, was on the search for blood.

Colin did not enjoy hunting. In the day, when he couldn't hunt, it was easier to forget what he was. But at night, his cardinal urges always came to the surface. 

Hunting on the poorer side of London wasn't challenging. There was always someone out and about. And Colin only needed a little bit of blood. None of them ever killed; the rule was only take what you need and leave no trace. And they were all excellent at that.

The worst that could happen was being caught by authorities. Or even worse, somehow ending up in Lady Whistledown.

Colin lurked around a corner, waiting impatiently for a passerby. He glanced at the printer shop, the light inside telling him someone was there. He needed to move further away, in case those inside would hear his victim if they were to scream out suddenly.

He casually walked down the cobblestone street, his sense of smell picking up someone near. It was a woman; that he was sure of.

He knew he should have just drank from the prostitutes, the ones he couldn't even bring himself to sleep with tonight. But he didn't like the idea of drinking from them. They oddly had shown him kindness, something he couldn't even acquire from his friends.

A woman rounded the corner. She was young, and her dark black hair was slightly unkempt. Colin rushed over to her, their eyes meeting instantly. The only sound she was able to make was a small gasp.

"Don't be scared, Miss . This will be over quickly. I'm just so...." he swallowed hard, "hungry."

Colin cupped the woman's face, turning her head so her neck was more on display. His fangs grew, his mouth watering at the thought of blood. Her pulse had quicken when he rushed her, her blood now calling his name. He sunk his teeth in, moaning as the liquid poured into his mouth. He closed his eyes, his thoughts shifting slowly back to familiar ones...

Penelope. 

He hated admitting it, but he had wanted to drink from Pen. His dreams not only consisted of touching her in the most inappropriate ways or confessing that their kiss was all he thought about; it was how he longed to bite her neck, taste her salty skin and rich blood. He knew she would be heavenly, but he never allowed himself to ponder on it too long. These were fantasies after all. She would never, ever find out what he was. And he would not damn her to a life like this.

He groaned against the woman's neck, lapping up spilt blood. Penelope was haunting him, even in real life. How was it that he could smell her, even right now? Even with his mouth on a different woman's neck, drinking her life essence, was he able to feel Pen's presence? It's like he could hear her say his name.

Colin glanced up, the printer shop illuminating the archway leading onto the street. A short person stood frozen, watching him. 

He froze too, his eyes focusing on the figure. The woman in his arms slurred incoherently. His eyes connected with her for a split second, telling her to forget what occurred and to go home. He pushed her off down a separate street, his eyes remaining on the silhouette.

He took a whiff of the air, his eyes widening.

The person ran the opposite way, racing back towards a carriage nearby. Colin made it there long before they could, grabbing them by the shoulders and pushing them up against the wall. His hand covered their mouth instantly, staring deep into the blue eyes he was captivated by since childhood.

"Penelope?"

~~~

Penelope had known the Bridgertons were vampires for years. While she might have met Colin first, Eloise had been her closest friend; mostly because it took Pen a while to really strike up the courage to actually talk to Colin. But when Eloise and her were young, outside and playing in her mother's garden, El casually told her what she was. At first, Pen didn't believe her. Who would believe such a thing without proof? El suddenly waltzed up to a butler nearby and told him to start doing a dance for her, and he did. The girls laughed at the sight, and from that moment on, Pen knew.

She never asked questions, but she was curious as to what vampires were really like. El wouldn't confirm anything to her, understandably wanting to keep some things private. And once Lady Whistledown rose to power in the Ton, El was even more hush about vampirism. Pen could tell she was nervous about her family's secret getting out there. But Pen assured her that Whistledown would never write on such a thing, otherwise she would become the laughingstock of Mayfair.

And now with El completely ignoring her because of Whistledown, she hoped that El understood that statement still rang true. While she would write about what everyone was talking about, no one but her knew their real secret. She would never share it, even if her and Eloise were no longer close.

The carriage came to a stop, the footman opening her door swiftly. She stepped out, the newest addition of Whistledown in her hand. She smirked as she read it over, noting how many in the Ton were speaking on her and Debling's possible engagement. While Pen did not enjoy being the center of attention, she did enjoy knowing that the sniveling mamas of the Ton were wrong about her.

Not only was Penelope courted, she was going to get married. That is, assuming she accepted Debling's proposal. Or that he actually planned to ask her mother tomorrow.

A life with Debling seemed... fine, to her. And if that's all she could get, she would take it. She wanted a love filled marriage, that was true; but maybe time would change that. It's possible that Debling one day might love her. Or that she may grow to fully accept what she had.

Part of her hated admitting it, but her feelings for Colin were still there too. But she accepted that reality as a fantasy and nothing more. Somehow, vampires were real, but Colin reciprocating her feelings wasn't. 

God had a very wicked sense of humor.

She walked down the street, turning the corner to the printer shop. When she raised her hand to knock, something caught her eye. She gazed down the street, two figures stood out in the open. It appeared to be a man and a woman. She squinted her eyes, watching them. The man cupped the woman's jaw, burying his face into her neck. Pen blushed at the notion. She had thoughts similar to that of her and Colin. Dreams, even. But to see two people doing something like that, so out in the open, was very scandalous to her. She wanted to look away, but curiosity got the better of her.

The couple swayed into the light unintentionally, and Pen's eyes widened.

The man's mouth was latched onto the woman's neck, and she was limp in his arms. It almost appeared like he was biting her. As she took in the man, she noted his dark brown coat. His tall stature and quaffed hair were familiar to her. It almost looked like...

"Colin?" She whispered.

The man looked up, locking eyes with Pen. She gasped, seeing his face for the first time. Dear Lord in Heaven, it was Colin. His mouth was stained red from blood and his fangs were prominent, even from such a distance away.

Her heart raced, and she knew she needed to get out of there, now.

She spun on her heel, running back to the carriage. Before she was able to get remotely close, her body was pushed up against the wall, her mouth covered.

"Penelope?" Colin hissed, his red eyes almost glowing in the dark.

She studied his face, taking in the features she had yet to see of him. His eyes were the most surprising, but his fangs were shocking up close.

"I am going to remove my hand. Please don't scream." He moved his hand slowly, her face feeling hot from his skin touching hers. "What are you doing out here?"

"I could ask you the same question, Colin." Pen argued.

"It is none of your concern, Pen. Whatever you saw..." Colin fought to speak, "was not what it looks like."

Pen suddenly became aware of the Whistledown papers in her hand, "Well, if that's the case, then I should be heading back home."

"You didn't answer my question. Why are you-" He began.

She cut him off, trying to sidestep him. "Colin, I need to-"

"What is that in your hand?" He questioned, pointing down.

Her blood ran cold. "W-What?"

Colin grabbed the papers from Pen's hands before she could stop him, her heart dropping instantly.

He gazed at the papers, reading over the words hastily. She backed up, her body hitting the wall. His stare hardened, eyes watering. "You're... Whistledown."

The hurt in his eyes, his voice, made Pen instantly tear up, "Colin, please I can-"

Colin backed away from her, "I cannot believe this. How could you?"

Pen wiped away her tears, "I am terribly sorry, Colin. Please let me expl-" 

"No, no. I do not want your explanation. What is there to explain? Clearly you are the one who has been writing such horrid things about my family. I cannot believe you would do this to us. To El." He choked out, "To me."

She begged, "Colin, let me explain myself."

"On top of being Whistledown, you come out here in the middle of the night to do your dealings. Unchaperoned, and presumably with no one knowing where you are. You could seriously get hurt! Not only could you ruin your reputation, but you could be harmed. How can you be so careless, Penelope?" He furrowed his brow, his eyes boring into hers.

Pen hated being talked down to. Who was Colin to act so scared for her safety, or her reputation for that matter? He was a vampire, for God's sake. She spat, "The only thing out here that seems to be harmful is you, Colin."

She knew she made a grave mistake. Damn her mouth.

Colin's eyes glowered at her, his body tensing. "What did you say?"

"I-I," Pen took a moment, gathering the courage to speak. "I saw you, Mr. Bridgerton. You weren't simply... caressing some random woman on the street. You were feeding on her. You're a vamp-"

He glared into her soul, demanding, "You are going to forget we had this conversation. You are going to forget what you saw moments ago. You are going to go home. Now."

Pen copied his gaze, shaking her head. "Who are you to tell me what to do? Have you gone mad?"

This was a terrible time to find out that Colin was, in fact, in love with Penelope. He knew he was, but the timing of it all really could not have been worse.

Colin growled, walking up to Pen's carriage door and opening it for her. "Get inside, Penelope. We will talk about this on the way back to your home."

"How can I trust to get in a carriage with you? Are you still hungry?" She sassed, her hands on her hips.

He lowered his gaze, his eyes darkening. "Do not make me force you inside."

Her skin felt hot suddenly, his tone hitting deep within her body. She had never seen Colin like this, and she wasn't sure what to make of it.

Her mind was cautious, nervous. But her body... felt something else entirely.

She sighed, stepping inside her carriage with the help of Colin. He followed her in, sitting across from her. He called out to the footman to go to the Featherington residence.

"Take the long way, please." Colin sat back against the seat, staring at Pen.

"Make a stop at the Bridgerton's house first... please." She called out. The footmen acknowledged their commands, and Colin rolled his eyes at her petty attempt of control. She squirmed under his gaze, unable to make eye contact with him.

He asked bitingly. "Should you start or should I?"

|| Part 2 >>

[jokeroutsubs]

[ENG sub/translation] Bojan Cvjetićanin on WDR.de COSMO podcast, 8.3.2024

On 8.3.2024, Bojan was a guest on the 'Tvoj Korzo petkom' ('Your Friday promenade') episode of the German broadcaster WDR's COSMO podcast in Bosnian/Croatian/Serbian language. It's hosted by Boris Rabrenović. You can find the original podcast here. Transcript by @moonlvster, translation by a member of Joker Out Subs, proofread by IG GBoleyn123, subtitles by TWT pastellibianchi.

Bojan talked about the current tour, audience response, the band's history, this year's Eurovision songs, as well as the making of Everybody's Waiting and what kind of an effect the song has on him now.

The podcast is audio only; you can find it with subtitles on our YouTube channel here:

or read the full translated transcript under the cut:

Joker Out in Germany - Your Friday promenade

Host: Coming up, we're hanging out with Bojan Cvjetićanin, the singer of the Slovenian rock band Joker Out, who are currently on a big European tour, in which they will have several concerts in Germany this month, in Berlin, Leipzig, Hamburg, Cologne and Munich.

The band is well known to Eurovision fans because they represented Slovenia in Liverpool last year. Since then, they have numerous fans all over the world, sold out concerts, and they also collaborated with the famous Elvis Costello. Singer Bojan Cvjetićanin will tell us more about all this. Hello, Bojan, welcome to our musical promenade walk.

Bojan: Hello, hello. It's my pleasure.

Host: After Finland, Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania and Poland, you will have the first of five concerts in Germany on the 12th of March in Berlin. What are your impressions from the tour so far?

Bojan: Well, I have to say that... this is by far the biggest tour so far for us. So far, it has been really spectacular both emotionally and physically. We are very happy, we are very satisfied, the audience is wonderful, we play well, we feel good on stage, we're full of energy, and we also can't wait to put that into a musical form when we go to the studio.

Host: You sing in Slovenian, English, Serbo-Croatian. How does the audience manage the lyrics in all these languages?

Bojan: Well, I have to admit that so far, we've already done a good number of concerts abroad, and most of our audience is actually from the countries in which we play. So it's not like I could say that much of our audience comes from the Balkan diaspora or from Slovenia. Of course, we would like to see as many people from our diaspora as possible, but it's strange, it's strange to see people singing in Slovenian and Serbian, who otherwise don't even know a word of those languages, so we're not used to that yet.

Host: Last year, you represented Slovenia at Eurovision in Liverpool with the song Carpe Diem. Could you have predicted everything that would happen after that?

Bojan: Honestly, I have to say that what is happening now was our ultimate wish, a goal we believed in, but whenever you believe in a dream, there is a 99.9 percent chance that it won't happen. But truly, what is happening now is like, the best possible result for us.

Host: And tell us a little about the time before Eurovision, how long has the band existed and did you perform in countries in the region¹ even before Eurovision?

Bojan: The band has existed since 2016 and we mostly played in Slovenia. We had a concert or two in the region and both concerts were for a Slovenian audience on, like, those student trips and so on, so we only encountered audiences from the region after Eurovision.

Host: And did you manage to listen to this year's representatives at Eurovision? Do you have any favourites?

Bojan: For this year, I told myself that I would like to hear the songs for the first time when I watch Eurovision, that is, in the first semi-final. Of course there was no way I could avoid listening to some of the songs, since my social media has been flooded with Eurovision content since last year, so I have heard some things. I heard the Serbian song, I heard the Croatian song. Of course, the Slovenian song, which I worked on. I have to say that I really like all three songs, Serbian, Slovenian and Croatian, this year. They're interesting, they're different, so it's going to be an interesting year.

Host: Last year, you released the English version of the song 'Novi val' with the famous British musician Elvis Costello, so tell us briefly how that collaboration came about.

Bojan: Well, that collaboration is... a pretty surreal moment in our life. Completely by coincidence, our former bassist's godfather is good friends with Elvis, and he gave Elvis our first album to listen to and he really liked it. Later, when we released the second album, Elvis listened to it on his own accord, and he liked the song 'Novi val' so much that he offered to write the English version of the lyrics. After two weeks, when we confirmed it, after two weeks, we received an email saying that if we wanted, we could do a collaboration, which of course we said yes to.

Host: What a beautiful story. Coming up, we will hear your new single 'Everybody's Waiting', which was released a few days ago. Tell us a few words about this song, which some rate as your best song so far.

Bojan: Well... 'Everybody's Waiting' is like, I would say, an experiment by our band, a song which, as far as the lyrics go, is actually the result of certain anxiety attacks and panic that I started experiencing at concerts after an unpleasant experience on stage. So it has all been very very stressful for me, honestly, and for these last couple of months, the stage has no longer been the safest place that it used to be for me, so I had to get those feelings out somehow, and I poured them into the song. The guys from the band felt it too, and the producer also felt it, so it showed in the actual arrangement of the song as well, that it's not just a song, but rather we all understood it as a story.

So absolutely, I would also say that as a song, it is the most varied, the most interesting so far, it has a special sound, a little different from what we have done so far. The song is in English, I think it was actually the first time that an English song worked out for me that way, that it sounds good and sounds original, and that it truly poured out of me. So there you go, I'm very proud of this song, and these concerts showed that people love it a lot, they sing it, so yeah.

Host: How much has it helped you in solving the problem with anxiety?

Bojan: Well, I would say that it absolutely helps in some way. On this tour, I also had a moment of panic, anxiety on stage, and it actually ended somewhere in the middle of the song 'Everybody's Waiting', so maybe it kind of works to calm me down, so it has an effect.

Host: Then perhaps it should be the first on the setlists.

Bojan: Yes, the first, second, third, fourth, fifth, and last.

Host: Bojan, thank you very much for being our guest. I wish you a lot of success in your future work, and a successful tour. And see you in Cologne on the 24th of March.

Bojan: Thank you, see you in Cologne.

Host: That was Bojan Cvjetićanin, the singer of the Slovenian rock band Joker Out, who are currently on a big European tour, during which they will have five concerts in Germany, on the 12th of March in Berlin, on the 13th in Leipzig, on the 19th in Hamburg, on the 24th in Cologne, and on the 16th of March in Munich. By the way, on the cosmoradio.de website, you can find our concert calendar for 2024 in Germany, with neatly arranged dates of all the performances by musicians from the countries in the (Balkan) region in Germany.

¹By "countries in the region" the host is referring to the former Yugoslavian countries.

[katerinaaqu]

If you bawled your eyes out at Hachiko perhaps you are not ready for Argos 😭😭

Argos (a small analysis) + after note story

So we all know that Odysseus lost more than 600 of his shipmates in total (both at war but most of all to his fateful trip to return to Ithaca) but I believe we must talk more of one last loss Odysseus suffered and that was at his own home; the loss of probably his most loyal companion who recognized him unconditionally even under the spell of Athena; his loyal Dog Argos.

The Dog:

Argos was Odysseus's loyal hound. The dog has been identified by some other brilliant Tumblr writers such as @pelideswhore as a Greek/Hellenic Hare Hound:

A midium-sized ancient dog breed that has been used for millennias in Greece (and after the spread of hellenic culture by the colonies and Alexander the Great etc in most Balkans) as a hound and a tracking dog. These dogs are known for their exceeding loyalty, playful energetic temperament and unique personality.

In the Odyssey:

Argos appears only once in the Odyssey (Hom.17) and that is when Odysseus enters the gates of the palace he notices an old dog covered in flees and parasites at the gates of the palace. The recognition is mutual and immediate. Argos who waited for more than 20 years for his master who raised him from puppy no longer has the strength to move but slowly pushes his ears back and wags his tail softly. Odysseus on the other hand feels his eyes tear up and yet he has to wipe them and hide himself so Eymeus won't recognize him. He has to pretend again that he doesn't know and he has to walk past his most loyal friend. Argos on the other hand just leans back and dies on the spot for he has now the delight of seeing his master back home and now he can die in peace...

We get very little information on Argos story but we know that Odysseus raised him from pup but he didn't have much time to have joy with him ("ουδ' απόνητο" = he didn't use him, he didn't hunt with him) but Eumeus mentions how there was no quicker dog in hunting so in a way Argos at some point did hunt with the younger generation but eventually probably the dog grew older and more and more depressed. When Odysseus was pronounced dead by many the slave women neglected him and bore no respect for him anymore and so Argos withers away but keeps waiting for his master.

Interestingly the term of "use" here is απόνητο which seems to have the hidden essence of "pain" since πόνος stands for "pain" in Greek. So in a way the ουδ' απόνητο might as well have the hidden meaning "not without pain". In a way the dog is not without pain if anything his pain seems to reflect his master.

The name:

In regards to the name "Argos" stands for "swift" or "quick" in homeric Greek (which could be indicative on the dog's speed) but as some people tend to suggest in their headcannons it seems to be an indirect mention of "Argo" the legendary ship that went for the Golden Fleece. Odysseus is linked to the ship in more than one way;

According to some versions, his father Laërtes was one of the men who took part to the legendary quest as an Argonaut

One other member of the Argonauts was the legendary Heracles who, according to some myths, was linked to his grandfather, Autolycus who taught him how to wrestle.

Quite frankly both versions seem possible or if anything they are not mutually exclusive. Maybe the dog's swiftness was also a reason for Odysseus to link him to that ship.

The tragic importance of Argos:

The scene is probably the last death linked to Odysseus and the last death to affect him. Argos is also the first actual living proof that Odysseus gets for the consequences of the passage of time in such a brutal way. Yes he did see Eumeus and heard his tragic story but Argos is basically giving Odysseus the perspective of time; for him 20 years were a lifetime but for his dog it was double as such.

Odysseus faced someone who by perspective endured longer than what he did.

The death is also the slowest and most tragic he had to face; his comrades died violently and swiftly. Argos was there. Odysseus had the chance to say goodbye at least to ONE FRIEND before death and at that moment he was unable to. He had to pretend he didn't know him and he could not say goodbye to him. And yet Argos DIDN'T CARE!

To Argos it didn't matter that Odysseus had to pretend he didn't know him. He was unconditionally happy to see him again, so much that he totally just finally allowed himself to die after finishing his duty and greeting his master back home.

The ending of his life is also described abruptly and simply by Homer

"But alas, Argos received the fate of black death the moment he saw Odysseus upon the 20th year" aka "Death claimed Argos the moment he saw Odysseus again after 20 years). In a way the dog's death is the opposite of his life (his life was long and tormented but his end was swift, simple, happy and sweet)

Argos is an excellent parallel with Telemachus too in order to show how the heart is the one who recognized Odysseus and not eyes or mind. Argos knew Odysseus more than Telemachus due to the fact that he was raised by him but Argos didn't spend so much time with him either and yet he recognized him and welcomed him even under the disguise. Telemachus's first instict was that his brain doubted when he saw his father without a disguise before he was convinced. Argos knew...he always knew.

Odysseus was recognized for the last time by someone else before entering the palace as a beggar aka as a nobody again as someone without identity until he was recognized again by his old nurse.

Argos is in a way a parallel to Anticlea. Anticlea withered and died by waiting. Argos seemed to have gained strength by hope to see his master again for he endured for a life that was already almost double than most dogs and also this death Odysseus was on time to witness. Unlike Anticlea who died before Odysseus could be there in her final moments, he was there for Argos

Argos is yet another death that Odysseus was not allowed by circumstances to mourn.

A tribute to Argos

Odysseus walked slowly outside the door of the palace. After the day he finally spent to his home and the preparation of everything to visit his old father Laërtes, he knew there was something else he had to do...something he believed he owed to a friend. His heart clenched as he walked out of the walls. His sad smile failed. There was nothing there.

That spot he was staring now was the last resting place of one of his friends he never thought to see again; his loyal Argos. Argos had waited for him for two decades; more than double his lifetime and Odysseus couldn't even hug him one last time; If only he could! Even if he was covered in flees. Even if the dog was in terrible condition...he deserved it. And yet he couldn't.

However now there was nothing there.

Odysseus sighed. He had expected that. He had spent at least two days in the palace before he got his revenge. Who would have left a dead dog out there for so long? Odysseus was prepared to face the terrible sight of a corpse full of maggots and flies but apparently he was spared that last horror. He was both sad and grateful for that.

He fell to his knees and touched the spot where the loyal dog met his end and finally he let his tears fall for one last time for real this time.

"Forgive me, boy..." he whispered, "you waited so long..."

He wiped away his tears and forced a sad smile on his lips.

"We could have done so much together, my friend...alas fate had other plans... Perhaps we will get our chance in another life...maybe we can hunt together in the underworld..."

He placed a small lily flower and an olive branch from the tree in his room to the spot. He then left there a dried apricot; it was Argos's favorite snack he remembered.

"Forgive me my boy...you will have to wait for a bit longer...perhaps... Perhaps I will see you waiting for me when Argophontes brings me down the bitter river as a dead soul..."

He heard someone calling him. Yes, it was about time to go and pay his respects to the last person waiting for him...

He stood back to his feet

He slowly walked away.

[alexisgeorge24]

17 juillet:

Arrivé à Ljubljana à 06h00 après 9h de route dont 2 de sommeil. Je suis fatigué mais je veux profiter du calme du matin pour faire une première visite de la ville qui de réveil puis de monter sur le château qui la domine sur une colinne. Je termine en zombie la visite, me dirige vers mon hostel, le monsieur me dit que mon lit ne sera prêt que pour 13h00 (il est 11h), du coup je lui dit que ok mais que je dors sur le canapé de l'entrée. Je ne sais pas ce qu'il me répond, je dors déjà. Au réveil je continue ma visite avec le parc Tivoli et autres quartiers en marchant un peu au hasard.

18 juillet:

Visites de musée sur l'histoire du pays. Je me rends compte qu'avant mon périple dans les balkans je ne savais absolument rien des yougoslaves.

19 juillet:

Day trip à Bled, où je fais le tour du lac et de son îlot avec église qui font de très belles photos, surtout à l'heure du levé de soleil où je suis arrivé. Puis visite des villages médiévaux Kranj et Skofja Loka. C'est joli mais les villages du midi en France que j'ai visité l'automne dernier sont trop frais dans ma mémoire pour ne pas comparer...

Retour à Ljubljana, grosse sieste puis bière en haut de la tour Nebotičnik avec vue sublime sur la ville et son château. Puis re-biere et cevapi.

20 juillet:

Dernier jour dans les balkans ! Grasse matinée parce que j'ai pas grand chose à faire; la prévision météo m'empêchant de faire une excursion en nature. Du coup free walking tour, musée de Jože Plečni, l'architecte de Sécession qui a énormément contribué aux villes de Prague, Viennes et Ljubljana, et visite de la bibliothèque universitaire.

En enfin bus direct pour Paris, 18 heures de route.

[greekroyalfamily]

117 years since the Birth of Princess Theodora of Greece and Denmark (30 May 1906 – 16 October 1969) who was by birth a Greek and Danish princess as well as Margravine of Baden through her marriage to Berthold, pretender to the throne of the Grand Duchy of Baden.

The second of five children of Prince Andrew of Greece and Denmark and Princess Alice of Battenberg, Theodora spent a happy childhood between Athens and Corfu. In her youth, however, she witnessed the Balkan Wars (1912–1913), followed by the First World War (1914–1918) and the Greco-Turkish War (1919–1922). For the young princess and her relatives, these conflicts had dramatic consequences and led to their exile in Switzerland (between 1917 and 1920), then in France and the United Kingdom (from 1922 to 1936). During their exile, Theodora and her family depended on the generosity of their foreign relatives, in particular Marie Bonaparte (who offered them accommodation in Saint-Cloud) and Lady Louis Mountbatten (who supported them financially)

At the end of the 1920s, Theodora's mother was struck by a mental health crisis which led to her confinement in a Swiss psychiatric hospital. Shortly after, in 1931, Theodora married Berthold, Margrave of Baden, son of Chancellor of the German Reich Prince Maximilian. The couple then moved to Salem Castle, where Berthold ran a school with teacher Kurt Hahn. The princess gave birth to three children there: Margarita (1932–2013), Maximilian (1933–2022) and Ludwig (born 1937). Opposed to Nazism, Theodora and her husband kept their distance from the Nazi regime; however, this did not prevent Berthold from enlisting in the Wehrmacht at the start of the Second World War. Affected by the conflict, which divided her family into two factions, Theodora became involved in the German Red Cross and other charitable organizations.

The defeat of Germany and its occupation by the Allies brought new upheavals in the life of Theodora and Berthold. Though not held by the Soviets, responsible for the death of several of their cousins, the couple was ostracized by the British royal family at the time of the marriage of Prince Philip, Theodora's only brother, to Princess Elizabeth of the United Kingdom (later Queen Elizabeth II) in 1947. Over the years, the couple was nevertheless reintegrated into the life of the European elite, as illustrated by their invitation and presence at the coronation of Elizabeth II in 1953 and at the wedding of Juan Carlos, Prince of Asturias, and Princess Sophia of Greece and Denmark in 1962.

At the end of the 1940s, Theodora began to suffer from heart problems.Over time, her health deteriorated and she appeared very diminished at the wedding of Prince Juan Carlos and Princess Sophia in 1962.Her health then alternated between times when she had the greatest difficulty speaking or walking and times when she felt absolutely good. Unable to anticipate her next seizures, she had to move around with a cane at all times.Forced to have all her teeth pulled out, she acquired a strange smile, which her mother struggled to get used to.

As his wife's health deteriorated, Berthold suffered a fatal heart attack while driving with their son Ludwig on 27 October 1963.Upset by the demise of her husband, Theodora then hurriedly returned from Italy, where she was on vacation.

Theodora's last years were affected by the establishment of the Regime of the Colonels in Greece and by the departure into exile of King Constantine II and his family.Hospitalized at the clinic of Doctor Büdingen in Konstanz,Theodora died on 16 October 1969.Her funeral was held at the mausoleum of the Baden family in Salem in the presence of many members of the aristocracy, including her nephew Prince Charles, but not her brother Prince Philip who was on an official trip to Canada

117 χρονια από τη γέννηση της πριγκίπισσας Θεοδώρας της Ελλάδας και της Δανίας (30 Μαΐου 1906 – 16 Οκτωβρίου 1969), η οποία ήταν εκ γενετής Ελληνίδα και Δανή πριγκίπισσα καθώς και η Μαργραβίνη του Μπάντεν μέσω του γάμου της με τον Μπέρθολντ, διαδόχου του θρόνου του Μεγάλου Δουκάτου του Μπάντεν.

Το δεύτερο από τα πέντε παιδιά του πρίγκιπα Ανδρέα της Ελλάδας και της Δανίας και της πριγκίπισσας Αλίκης του Μπάτενμπεργκ, η Θεοδώρα πέρασε μια ευτυχισμένη παιδική ηλικία μεταξύ Αθήνας και Κέρκυρας. Στα νιάτα της, ωστόσο, έγινε μάρτυρας των Βαλκανικών Πολέμων (1912–1913), που ακολούθησαν τον Πρώτο Παγκόσμιο Πόλεμο (1914–1918) και τον Ελληνοτουρκικό πόλεμο (1919–1922). Για τη νεαρή πριγκίπισσα και τους συγγενείς της, αυτές οι συγκρούσεις είχαν δραματικές συνέπειες και οδήγησαν στην εξορία τους στην Ελβετία (μεταξύ 1917 και 1920), στη συνέχεια στη Γαλλία και το Ηνωμένο Βασίλειο (από το 1922 έως το 1936). Κατά τη διάρκεια της εξορίας τους, η Θεοδώρα και η οικογένειά της εξαρτιόταν από τη γενναιοδωρία των συγγενών τους, ιδιαίτερα της Μαρίας Βοναπάρτη (που τους πρόσφερε διαμονή στο Saint-Cloud) και της Λαίδης Λούις Μαουντμπάτεν (που τους στήριξε οικονομικά)

Στα τέλη της δεκαετίας του 1920, η μητέρα της Θεοδώρας χτυπήθηκε από μια κρίση ψυχικής υγείας που την οδήγησε στον εγκλεισμό της σε ένα ελβετικό ψυχιατρείο. Λίγο αργότερα, το 1931, η Θεοδώρα παντρεύτηκε τον Μπέρθολντ, Μαργράβο της Βάδης, γιο του Καγκελαρίου του Γερμανικού Ράιχ πρίγκιπα Μαξιμιλιανού. Στη συνέχεια, το ζευγάρι μετακόμισε στο Κάστρο του Σάλεμ, όπου ο Μπέρθολντ διηύθυνε ένα σχολείο με δάσκαλο τον Κερτ Χαν. Η πριγκίπισσα γέννησε εκεί τρία παιδιά: τη Μαργαρίτα (1932–2013), τον Μαξιμιλιανό (1933–2022) και τον Λούντβιχ (γεννήθηκε το 1937). Ενάντια στον ναζισμό, η Θεοδώρα και ο σύζυγός της κράτησαν αποστάσεις από το ναζιστικό καθεστώς. Ωστόσο, αυτό δεν εμπόδισε τον Μπέρτολντ να καταταγεί στη Βέρμαχτ κατά την έναρξη του Β' Παγκοσμίου Πολέμου. Επηρεασμένη από τη σύγκρουση, που χώρισε την οικογένειά της σε δύο φατρίες, η Θεοδώρα ασχολήθηκε με τον Γερμανικό Ερυθρό Σταυρό και άλλες φιλανθρωπικές οργανώσεις.

Η ήττα της Γερμανίας και η κατοχή της από τους Συμμάχους έφερε νέες ανατροπές στη ζωή της Θεοδώρας και του Μπέρθολντ. Αν και δεν θεωρούνταν από τους Σοβιετικούς, υπεύθυνους για τον θάνατο πολλών από τα ξαδέρφια τους, το ζευγάρι εξοστρακίστηκε από τη βρετανική βασιλική οικογένεια τη στιγμή του γάμου του πρίγκιπα Φίλιππου, του μοναδικού αδερφού της Θεοδώρας, με την πριγκίπισσα Ελισάβετ του Ηνωμένου Βασιλείου (αργότερα βασίλισσα Ελισάβετ ΙΙ) το 1947. Με τα χρόνια, το ζευγάρι επανεντάχθηκε ωστόσο στη ζωή της ευρωπαϊκής ελίτ, όπως φαίνεται από την πρόσκληση και την παρουσία τους στη στέψη της Ελισάβετ Β' το 1953 και στον γάμο του Χουάν Κάρλος, πρίγκιπα της Αστούριας, και την πριγκίπισσα Σοφία της Ελλάδας και της Δανίας το 1962.

Στα τέλη της δεκαετίας του 1940, η Θεοδώρα άρχισε να υποφέρει από καρδιακά προβλήματα. Με την πάροδο του χρόνου, η υγεία της επιδεινώθηκε και εμφανίστηκε πολύ εξασθενημένη στο γάμο του πρίγκιπα Χουάν Κάρλος και της πριγκίπισσας Σοφίας το 1962. Η υγεία της εναλλάσσονταν τότε μεταξύ των περιόδων που είχε τα καλύτερα δυσκολία στην ομιλία ή στο περπάτημα και φορές που ένιωθε απολύτως καλά. Μη μπορώντας να προβλέψει τις επόμενες κρίσεις της, έπρεπε να κυκλοφορεί με ένα μπαστούνι ανά πάσα στιγμή. Αναγκασμένη να της βγάλουν όλα τα δόντια, απέκτησε ένα παράξενο χαμόγελο, το οποίο η μητέρα της πάλευε να συνηθίσει.

Καθώς η υγεία της συζύγου του επιδεινώθηκε, ο Berthold υπέστη θανατηφόρο καρδιακό επεισόδιο ενώ οδηγούσε με τον γιο τους Ludwig στις 27 Οκτωβρίου 1963. Αναστατωμένη από τον θάνατο του συζύγου της, η Theodora επέστρεψε βιαστικά από την Ιταλία, όπου ήταν για διακοπές.

Τα τελευταία χρόνια της Θεοδώρας επηρεάστηκαν από την εγκαθίδρυση του καθεστώτος των συνταγματαρχών στην Ελλάδα και από την αναχώρηση στην εξορία του βασιλιά Κωνσταντίνου Β' και της οικογένειάς του. Νοσηλευόμενη στην κλινική του Doctor Büdingen στην Konstanz, η Θεοδώρα πέθανε στις 16 Οκτωβρίου 1969. Η κηδεία της έγινε που πραγματοποιήθηκε στο μαυσωλείο της οικογένειας Baden στο Σάλεμ παρουσία πολλών μελών της αριστοκρατίας, συμπεριλαμβανομένου του ανιψιού της Πρίγκιπα Κάρολου, αλλά όχι του αδελφού της πρίγκιπα Φίλιππου που βρισκόταν σε επίσημο ταξίδι στον Καναδά

[khodorkovskaya]

17.04.23

i keep manifesting B, i can't deal with this anymore! and it feels like my fault, but in reality it's just that our city is small and we hang out in the same areas so ofc there's a big chance of us bumping into each other every now and then. but still...

my zurich friend came into town this weekend and we went to church together for easter and it was fun. there's something so intimate about going to church with someone, don't you think? like sometimes i go to church and there's a person praying or lighting a candle and it feels like you're looking at something you're not supposed to look at. like prayer is such an intimate thing. and during the easter service there were so many people and we were all standing there, some people humming to the hymns of the choir or whispering to themselves or exclaiming "he has risen" and it was such a funny sensation. (the lady standing next to me was singing soooo out of tune lol! i was like girlie we're all passionate about jesus here but let me listen to the choir plsss!)

we left at 2am because i was sleepy and i felt bad bc i told my friend that i thought a lot during the ceremony and he asked me if it was positive or negative thoughts and i said positive bc like duhh he has risen! and he said that he thought a lot too but for him it was negative thoughts. and i feel like maybe he wanted to talk but i was too tired and stupid to ask him to elaborate, so he didn't. and we walked in silence for a bit. idk maybe he wanted to talk...? so i suggested we go for coffee the following day but he couldn't make it. i feel like a bad friend and i really hope he's okay.

we also talked a lot on telegram and he told me he enjoys writing. and i was like oh me too!!! like idk it's such a surprise to me whenever i meet people who like writing. but at the same time, although i identify as like a person who enjoys writing, i never write. the only thing i write is well... this blog. and it's not really writing writing, is it? i can't remember the last time id written like a proper story. my friend said he wants to write about his trip to poland and id be very interested to read that. his polish trip does sound very intriguing.

then i thought about what if i were to write something about my recent trips. and my trip around the balkans in 2019 came to mind. it's one of my favourite memories i have to say. but it wouldn't make a great story. because it wasn't like thought provoking or anything, nothing really happened, i just had fun and that's it. i guess i could write a descriptive text about like the mountains and the views or whatever, but that wouldn't be an interesting read. and tbh the moment i remember the most vividly from that trip is uhhh having the best sex of my life with B. and that could be a fun descriptive text, like i could compare it to the texture of velvet and the colour purple and the taste of that armenian walnut jam with purple walnuts that look like geodes, you know the one im talking about. i could come up with all kinds of metaphors.

so i was walking thru the train station on my way to the tram, thinking about the things that feel like being in love with B in sarajevo did. i started to miss it a bit. and then i got on the tram, turned around and... there he was.

i saw him walking out of the train station and at first i thought it was some random guy who looked like an uglier version of B. in my head i was like "ooo he kinds looks lik- ohHHH". he got a haircut, so his hair didn't look as bad as the last time i saw him. but something about his facial expression and his stride... idk he looked so mean. he had this arrogant air about him, as if someone had just told him off and he was making that face of "ugh fuck off, im so much better than you". like the way he caried himself gave off such "im better than you" vibes and his facial expression was very mean. idk, like i said, he looked like an ugly version of himself. i didn't pay attention to what he was wearing but he had his backpack with him. and it was the backpack that made me realise it was him.

i waved at him from the tram and he looked me in the eye and idk if he didn't see me or just ignored me.

and i was a bit disappointed. bc like i was really getting into the having sex with him in sarajevo memory and i thought maybe i could think about it again before bed today. but now his ugly face is ingrained into my brain and i can't think about sarajevo anymore. i need to hang out with more hot people so that i could at least sexually fantasise about someone. like im in my twenties, come on, why are my options so limited???

[balkanscore2024]

Throwback to my trip to Hévíz 🥰

[bulgara]

Belogradchik Rocks // Bulgaria 🇧🇬

[goexploregreece]

Bridges are like friendships; they connect us and help to get where we need to be.

One of the most famous bridges in Greece is the Kokkori Bridge, also known as the Kokkorou Bridge. This stunning bridge spans the Voidomatis River and is situated between two sheer cliffs below the village of Koukouli in the region of Epirus.

The Kokkori Bridge was built in 1750 using only local materials. It's an arch bridge made of stone and spanning about 20 meters.

Now, why was this bridge built in the first place? Well, it was constructed to connect the villages of Koukouli and Kipoi, which were separated by the Voidomatis River. Before the bridge was built, the only way to cross the river was by boat, which was a slow and sometimes dangerous process.

One of the most interesting things about the Kokkori Bridge is that it was built without scaffolding or cranes. Instead, the builders used a unique method called "geranos," which involved suspending a basket from ropes and pulleys to transport materials and workers across the river.

If you're planning to visit the bridge, I recommend going in the morning when the sunlight hits it and the the river below, creating a stunning reflection. It's also a great time to take photos without too many people around. And if you're feeling brave, you can even walk across the bridge and experience the incredible views of the surrounding landscape.

During the Greek War of Independence, the revolutionary forces used the bridge to transport troops and supplies during their battles against the Ottoman Empire.

The bridge is also part of the Vikos–Aoös National Park, home to a diverse range of flora and fauna, including rare species such as the Balkan lynx and the brown bear.

So, if you find yourself in the Epirus region, take a trip to the Kokkori Bridge and experience its beauty for yourself.

[worldofimpossible]

"Top 5 Historic Sites to Visit in Sarajevo"

Top 5 Historic Sites to Visit in Sarajevo

Sarajevo, the heart of Bosnia and Herzegovina, is a city brimming with history, culture, and charm. Nestled in a valley surrounded by mountains, this Balkan capital has witnessed centuries of change, from its Ottoman origins to the Austro-Hungarian influence and its more recent role in 20th-century conflicts. Walking through Sarajevo is like stepping into a living history book, with every street corner and building telling a story of resilience and rebirth.

If you're planning a trip to Sarajevo, make sure to include these five historic sites on your itinerary. And for a hassle-free experience, book your city tours through Trip.com, your gateway to the best experiences Bosnia has to offer.

1. Baščaršija: The Ottoman Bazaar

Baščaršija, the historic bazaar, is the beating heart of Sarajevo’s old town and one of the city's most iconic locations. Established in the 15th century by the Ottomans, this cobblestone market area has retained its charm over the centuries. Visitors can stroll through narrow streets lined with traditional shops selling handmade copperware, carpets, jewelry, and other crafts that offer a glimpse into Bosnia's artisanal heritage.

One of the highlights is Sebilj Fountain, a historic wooden fountain that is said to bring good luck to those who drink from it. Surrounding the bazaar, you'll find Ottoman-style mosques, tea houses, and restaurants serving traditional Bosnian cuisine. Be sure to stop by one of the local eateries for ćevapi, a beloved Bosnian dish of grilled minced meat served with flatbread and onions.

Why Visit: Baščaršija is the perfect place to immerse yourself in Sarajevo's Ottoman past, with its architecture and cultural influences on full display. Book a guided walking tour of Baščaršija on Trip.com to explore the hidden gems of this historic market.

2. The Latin Bridge: Site of the Assassination that Sparked WWI

The Latin Bridge is perhaps one of the most famous historical landmarks in Sarajevo. On June 28, 1914, it was here that Archduke Franz Ferdinand of Austria was assassinated, setting off a chain of events that led to the outbreak of World War I. Today, the bridge stands as a symbol of Sarajevo’s complex past and its role in global history.

The bridge itself is an elegant Ottoman structure, originally built in the mid-16th century. Just nearby is the Sarajevo Museum 1878–1918, where you can delve deeper into the events surrounding the assassination and the tumultuous history of the region during this period.

Why Visit: Standing on the Latin Bridge connects you to one of the most significant moments in 20th-century history, offering insight into Sarajevo’s role on the world stage. Explore the Latin Bridge and its surrounding area with a historical tour from Trip.com and step in the footsteps of history.

3. Gazi Husrev-beg Mosque: A Masterpiece of Islamic Architecture

The Gazi Husrev-beg Mosque is not only Sarajevo’s largest mosque but also one of the finest examples of Ottoman Islamic architecture in the Balkans. Built in 1530, it was commissioned by Gazi Husrev-beg, a prominent Ottoman governor whose influence on the city endures to this day. The mosque’s stunning design features intricate stone carvings, colorful stained-glass windows, and a beautiful courtyard.

Visitors can explore the mosque and its complex, which includes a medresa (Islamic school), the clock tower, and a nearby bazaar. Non-Muslim visitors are welcome to enter the mosque outside of prayer times, making it an ideal spot for those interested in Islamic culture and history.

Why Visit: The Gazi Husrev-beg Mosque is a must-see for anyone interested in Islamic art and architecture, as well as Sarajevo’s religious heritage. Book a cultural tour of Sarajevo’s religious sites, including Gazi Husrev-beg Mosque, on Trip.com to fully appreciate the city’s spiritual diversity.

4. The Eternal Flame: A Memorial to WWII Victims

The Eternal Flame (Vječna Vatra) is a poignant monument dedicated to the civilians and soldiers who lost their lives during World War II in Sarajevo. Unveiled in 1946, this perpetual flame serves as a symbol of remembrance and resilience for the city, which suffered heavily during the war.

Located in the heart of the city center on Marshal Tito Street, the Eternal Flame is a place for reflection and solemn commemoration. Surrounding the monument, you’ll find Sarajevo’s historic buildings, many of which bear the scars of the 1990s conflict, making this an emotional stop on any historic tour of the city.

Why Visit: The Eternal Flame is a powerful reminder of Sarajevo's endurance through times of great hardship, from WWII to the Bosnian War. Join a comprehensive WWII history tour on Trip.com to learn more about Sarajevo’s experiences during the war and visit other related sites.

5. Tunnel of Hope: A Lifeline During the Bosnian War

Perhaps one of the most moving sites in Sarajevo is the Tunnel of Hope (Tunel spasa). During the Siege of Sarajevo (1992–1996), this hand-dug tunnel served as a vital lifeline, providing the besieged city with food, medical supplies, and humanitarian aid. The tunnel connected Sarajevo with the Bosnian-held territory on the other side of the airport, allowing residents to escape and supplies to come in despite the heavy shelling and sniper fire.

Today, a portion of the tunnel is preserved as part of the Tunnel Museum, where visitors can walk through the surviving section and see artifacts from the war, such as personal belongings, photographs, and video footage of the siege. The museum offers a deeply personal look into the resilience of Sarajevo’s residents during one of the longest sieges in modern history.

Why Visit: The Tunnel of Hope is a must-visit for those looking to understand the harsh realities of the Bosnian War and Sarajevo’s perseverance in the face of adversity. Book a tour of the Tunnel of Hope and other Bosnian War sites through Trip.com to experience this powerful historical site.

Why Book with Trip.com?

When planning your visit to Sarajevo, it's essential to have a reliable platform for booking tours and experiences that will give you the most out of your trip. Trip.com offers a wide range of guided tours that cater to history enthusiasts, including in-depth tours of Sarajevo’s most significant historical sites. With Trip.com, you can ensure a seamless experience, with expert guides who bring the city’s rich history to life.

Whether you’re exploring Sarajevo’s Ottoman heritage, diving deep into its role in World War I, or learning about its resilience during the Bosnian War, Trip.com provides the best tour options for every type of traveler. Their platform is easy to use, offers competitive pricing, and ensures you get the most out of your Sarajevo adventure.

Final Thoughts

Sarajevo is a city that has withstood the tests of time and conflict, emerging as a vibrant hub of culture, history, and hope. From its Ottoman roots in Baščaršija to the modern struggles commemorated at the Tunnel of Hope, every corner of Sarajevo tells a story that will leave a lasting impression.

As you plan your journey to this remarkable city, remember that Trip.com is your ideal partner in discovering Sarajevo’s historic sites. With just a few clicks, you can book a variety of tours that will take you deep into the heart of Bosnia's captivating capital.

So what are you waiting for? Click here to book your Sarajevo city tour on Trip.com and step into history today.

By incorporating these five must-see historical sites into your Sarajevo itinerary, you’ll surely experience this extraordinary city’s true essence. Whether you’re a history buff, a cultural explorer, or simply curious about Bosnia’s past, Sarajevo offers a journey through time like no other.

[saurabhcontentwriter]

Discover the Hidden Gem of Europe Traveling to Albania 🌍✨

Are you ready to embark on a European adventure that’s off the beaten path? Let me introduce you to Albania, a stunning destination filled with breathtaking landscapes, rich history, and vibrant culture. Here’s everything you need to know before you go!

Why Visit Albania? 🇦🇱

Albania may not be on everyone’s travel radar, but this hidden gem offers a unique blend of Mediterranean charm and Balkan warmth. From the beautiful beaches along the Albanian Riviera to the historic streets of Tirana, Albania has something for everyone.

Best Time to Go ⏰

Plan your trip in spring (April to June) or early autumn (September to October) for the best weather and fewer crowds. If you’re dreaming of sun-soaked beaches, July and August are the peak months, perfect for a seaside getaway!

Must-See Destinations 🗺️

Tirana: Experience the vibrant street life and colorful buildings of the capital.

Berat: Explore this UNESCO World Heritage Site known for its stunning Ottoman architecture.

Saranda: Relax on beautiful beaches and visit the ancient ruins of Butrint.

Gjirokastër: Discover the historic castle and charming stone houses in another UNESCO gem.

Safety and Cuisine 🍽️

Albania is a safe destination for tourists, and you’ll be welcomed with open arms by the locals. Don’t miss out on trying traditional dishes like byrek and tavë kosi—your taste buds will thank you!

Getting Around 🚍

With options like buses, taxis, and rental cars, getting around Albania is easy and affordable. If you’re joining a Europe tour package, check if transportation is included for added convenience.

Pack Smart! 🎒

Bring comfortable clothing, good walking shoes, and don’t forget your sunscreen! The stunning scenery and local experiences will leave you in awe.

Ready to add Albania to your Europe tour packages? Let the adventure begin! 🗺️💖

[queerworldtravelers]

Kotor, Montenegro

42°25'14"N, 18°46'5"E

Cats and goats and friends from Chicago!

The distance from Palermo, Sicily to Kotor, Montenegro is a little under 600 miles. It is comparable to the distance from Portland, Oregon to San Francisco, California. Far, but not anything too wild. The night before we embarked on our grand adventure to Kotor a fellow dinner guest said “take the ferry to Montenegro.” Ah! A FERRY! A little too late for this trip. Instead we took a plane to Memmingen, Germany; another plane to Zagreb, Croatia; and yet another plane to Dubrovnik, Croatia; and finally a taxi from Dubrovnik to Kotor, Montenegro. It took us over 14 hours to make the journey. 

Mary commented that we had crossed through a portal to a completely different way of life. She was absolutely right and we are grateful for the rattle to our perceived means of transportation. 

We originally planned to spend some time in Croatia and then they joined the Schengen area on January 1, 2023. For those who are unfamiliar, a US passport buys you some restrictions in many European countries specifically if they are a part of the Schengen area. We have been gone long enough to bump up against the restrictions and had to head out. The entire town of Kotor, Montenegro is a UNESCO Heritage Site so we decided that would be a pretty awesome spot to hunker down for a bit. Unbeknownst to us, the city was under the control of the Venetian Republic from 1420 - 1797. This historical marker gives the city streets qualities that are reminiscent of Venice only with giant fortress walls built straight up the side of mountains instead of canals. 

The city is also known for its domineering population of cats! 

Legend has it that sailors brought cats to Kotor from all over the world and the folks in town celebrate the cats because they keep the mice, rats, and snakes in check. There are cats everywhere here! One of them is making her home in our hearts. They are a hilarious bunch and every adventure in town, or even just outside, is filled with cat antics. 

We would be remiss if we neglected to mention the most epic part of Montenegro. Sara and Aaron! Our dear friends from Chicago flew ALL the way here to hang out for a week! Sara and Krystal have a pretty solid track record of bringing epically bad weather to wherever they gather in the world: Kona low in Hawaiʻi, days of rain in Joshua Tree, the epic storm that smashed the windows out of the Garfield Park Conservatory in Chicago - yup we were trying to have a picnic… It is an absolute gift to have people in your life that will go to the end of the earth to hang out even if the weather never cooperates. We had days of rain, but also days of delicious and warm sunshine. Interesting restaurant escapades were punctuated with epic home-cooked meals. One evening included an abrasive visit to the butcher shop and resulted in a glorious pot of goulash. Then Mary fired up the cast iron grill and we ate an entire kilo of ćevapčići, a form of Balkan meat sorcery inspired by the rebels and freedom fighters during the Ottoman Empire. Our meat-powered adventure comrades joined us on some epic feats against gravity! 

Adventures not strewn with cats sent us directly uphill into the bosom of long-haired goats who skillfully tip toe across the craggy walls of the black mountains. One can walk the Fortress walls all the way to the top and admire the time-tested engineering. The city of Kotor was never conquered, so these walls have served as an impenetrable force since the 9th century BC. We noticed that the steps are easiest to traverse when moving at almost a running pace and watched in awe as locals floated up and down the 1,400 steps. 

Across the river that runs just outside of the ramparts is a collection of switchbacks called the “Ladder of Kotor.” Google Maps showed a goat cheese house near the top, so we set out with the goal of being met with goat cheese and a drink at the top knowing that off-season may have left us nursing the ends of our water without any promised prize. We are elated to report that there is absolutely goat cheese and the goats will hike all the way up WITH you! In fact, it was the best goat cheese we have ever eaten. This is likely due to the diet of wild oregano, wild mint, and pomegranates. Seriously, it is a magic wonderland around here. 

According to a quick Google search there are roughly 37 million churches in the world. There is no shortage of them in Kotor! Except the churches here are really extra super old and you can wander in, over the rubble, because lawsuit culture has yet to take hold in this part of the world. The churches here are smaller than the ones we have been wandering around in Italy. Smaller means mightier bell sounds. In fact, the place we are staying at is almost in the backyard of a smallish church where the bell tower is in line with our bedroom window. The bells ring 150 times at 6 am meaning we are up early..which is good because the internet is really slow and file uploads take a while. 

MARCH 9, 2023

[dreamstravel19]

Top 10 Visa-Free Countries for Indians

Traveling the world is a dream for many, and for Indian passport holders, several destinations offer the ease of visa-free travel. Here are ten incredible Visa-Free Countries for Indians you can visit without the hassle of obtaining a visa:

1. Nepal

Neighboring Nepal is a treasure trove of natural beauty and cultural richness. From the towering peaks of the Himalayas to the spiritual serenity of its temples, Nepal is a must-visit for adventure seekers and peace lovers alike. Indians can travel to Nepal without a visa and even use Indian currency for transactions.

2. Bhutan

Known as the "Land of the Thunder Dragon," Bhutan offers a unique blend of ancient traditions and modern sensibilities. The country's stunning monasteries, lush valleys, and vibrant festivals make it a magical destination. Indian citizens can enter Bhutan without a visa, provided they carry either a passport or a voter ID card.

3. Mauritius

Mauritius, an island paradise in the Indian Ocean, is famous for its white-sand beaches, clear blue waters, and rich cultural heritage. Whether you're into water sports, wildlife, or simply relaxing by the sea, Mauritius has something for everyone. Indians can stay visa-free for up to 90 days.

4. Maldives

The Maldives is a dream destination with its overwater bungalows, coral reefs, and luxury resorts. It's perfect for honeymooners and beach lovers. Indians can get a free visa on arrival for a stay of up to 30 days.

5. Seychelles

Another gem in the Indian Ocean, Seychelles is renowned for its pristine beaches, lush tropical forests, and diverse marine life. It's an ideal spot for snorkeling, diving, and nature walks. Indian passport holders do not need a visa for stays up to 90 days.

6. Indonesia

Indonesia's is one of the best Visa-Free Countries for Indians, vast archipelago offers a variety of experiences, from the cultural richness of Bali to the bustling city life of Jakarta. The country's diverse landscapes and vibrant traditions make it a fascinating destination. Indians can obtain a visa on arrival, valid for 30 days.

7. Fiji

Fiji is synonymous with stunning beaches, coral reefs, and a friendly local culture. This South Pacific paradise is perfect for relaxation and adventure. Indian citizens can stay in Fiji visa-free for up to 4 months.

8. Jamaica

For a taste of the Caribbean, Jamaica offers beautiful beaches, reggae music, and a laid-back lifestyle. Explore the island's rich cultural heritage and natural wonders. Indians can stay in Jamaica visa-free for up to 30 days.

9. El Salvador

El Salvador, Central America's hidden gem, boasts stunning landscapes, from volcanic craters to pristine beaches. It's a haven for surfers and nature enthusiasts. Indian travelers can enter El Salvador without a visa for up to 90 days.

10. Serbia

Serbia, a Balkan country with a rich history and vibrant culture, offers a mix of medieval architecture, bustling cities, and picturesque countryside. Indian citizens can visit Serbia visa-free for up to 30 days, making it an excellent European destination.

Tips for Visa-Free Travel

Check Entry Requirements: Even if a visa isn't required, ensure you meet all other entry requirements, such as valid travel insurance or proof of onward travel.

Stay Informed: Entry policies can change, so it's wise to check the latest travel advisories and guidelines from official sources before planning your trip.

Respect Local Laws: Each country has its own rules and regulations, so be respectful and adhere to local customs and laws.

Traveling Visa-Free Countries for Indians simplifies your journey and opens up a world of exploration and adventure. So pack your bags, grab your passport, and embark on a hassle-free adventure to these incredib