#i went to a history of colonial architecture talk a while ago

[pynkhues]

Hey Sophie, I'm going to be in Melbourne soon! Do you have any tips for what to do, see, or eat?

Hey! Ah! How exciting! Melbourne's a really fun city to visit, and I feel really does have something for everyone.

Hmmm, tip wise, I think I'd say:

grab a Myki card for public transport. You can buy these at any news agent, train station or petrol station. Melbourne has a free inner-city tramzone, which is great for getting around the CBD, but you should also take advantage of Melbourne's incredibly good train network which'll open up the broader city to you. A Myki card works on all forms of public transport - buses, trams (for trams outside of the free tram zone) and trains - so they're pretty straight forward.

On that note, the PTV app is pretty useless for public transport (you're better off using Google maps tbh), but it does let you top up your Myki instantly via your phone, which makes it useful. The TramTracker app is very good for trams though, especially because you can type in the number of the tram you're on and know exactly which stops you're heading towards. The logos look like this: (trust the doggo)

Don't drive in the city - it's a layer of hell.

Have a little bit of cash on you. Most places take cards or smart watches, but you'll need gold coins for certain things too, particularly accessing certain gardens or markets.

Pack for all weather. Melbourne's known for having four seasons in a day, and having lived here for almost five years now, it's not an exaggeration. Layering is your friend, and always have an umbrella!

Hook turns are a real thing here, and whether you're driving or just crossing the road, they're worth being aware of.

Places to visit

Melbourne's famous for its street art, and while you can just wander around and observe yourself, doing a tour is particularly fun (and makes sure you see the best stuff!)

Australian Centre for the Moving Image (ACMI) is one of my favourite places to show out-of-towners (although that's probably partly just because it's me, haha). It's a museum of film, tv and games, and explores the moving image as both a form of commercial entertainment and as a form of art. Their cinema is often playing really interesting films too.

National Gallery Victoria is always worth checking out.

Chapel Street is known for it's little galleries, restaurants and indie shops, and makes for a fun day out.

Queen Vic Market and South Melbourne Market are both iconic and for good reason. They've been operational since the mid-1800s, and you can often feel that when you're in them. They can get packed though, so just a heads up.

I love love love heritage buildings and exploring history through place, so will always recommend checking out the National Trust's historic sites in Melbourne. Rippon Lea Estate is a personal fave and only about 20 minutes out of the CBD on the train. They shot parts of Miss Fisher there, and even if you don't get to tour the house (although I recommend you do!) even just exploring the gardens are beautiful.

Abbotsford Convent & Collingwood Children's Farm are right next door to each other and a pretty amazing day out.

If you fancy seeing a movie, my all time fave cinemas are The Classic and The Lido, which are owned by the same family. Either spot is worth checking out.

If you're looking to see a show or performance, you can look for the big ones at any of the big theatres, but for smaller, exciting indie stuff, I'd check out the programs at Malthouse, La Mama, Art House, Meat Market, and Footscray Community Arts Centre,

What to eat

Wellllll, this ultimately depends on your budget, haha, since Melbourne restaurants can run the gamut. Some of my favourite restaurants that are a bit more on the expensive side but great for a special occasion:

Maha's probably my favourite restaurant in Melbourne? It's modern Middle Eastern cuisine and their seafood in particular is divine. It's a set menu, and like I said, a little exy, haha.

Mabu Mabu is modern Australian First Nations (Torres Strait Islander) cuisine and is very good! They sell some of their own sauces too, and I highly recommend snagging their pineapple hot sauce! It's also very easy to get to, as it's located in Fed Square right next to the Koori Heritage Trust which often has Indigenous exhibitions on (and a great gift store if you're looking for anything to take home)

Chin Chin's - delicious South East Asian fusion cuisine. Again, a little exy.

Transformer - incredible vegetarian restaurant. They do both ala carte and a fixed menu. Highly recommend their fixed menu! They're also very good with dietary requirements, particularly if you're gluten free or if you have annoying allergies for a vegetarian restaurant like me, haha (tomato and eggplant).

Cheaper eats that are also delicious:

A little out in the South Side 'burbs, but Saigon Mamma is my favourite Vietnamese restaurant in Melbourne.

Rice Paper Scissors is good too, as is Chocolate Buddha, Green Man's Arms, and oh! Studley Park Boathouse is a fave. It's beautiful location-wise with pretty standard (but good) pub eats, and they've got a lot of water birds you can feed and boats you can hire pretty cheap ($30 for a kayak, $40 for a row boat) to row along the Yarra River. It's also really close to the Convent + Children's Farm if you fancy making a day of it.

If you're willing to travel a little further out of inner Melbourne, I'd also suggest:

Healesville Sanctuary - the bird show is i n c r e d i b l e. I took my nephews last year and the older one still talks about it, haha.

Mornington Penninsula Hot Springs - Mornington Penninsula is a great day trip from Melbourne. It's only just over an hour drive, and it's pretty stunning. Full of wineries and beachy walks. The hot springs are so relaxing though, and really centring if you need it.

Mount Macedon - home of the Hanging Rock of Picnic at Hanging Rock fame! Plus it's just a beautiful area.

Cranborne Gardens - the Royal Botanical Gardens in the city are beautiful too, but I'm particularly partial to these ones.

Hope this gets you started, and just let me know if you have any other questions!

[sebastianshaw]

@sammysdewysensitiveeyes So, you asked me not long ago, how I’d feel about Haven as a mutant on Krakoa. As it happens, I’m on an RP Discord where I write her as such, since they allow characters there to be mutants who aren’t mutants in canon, in order to join the RP, since it’s set on Krakoa. I made her a healer, able to heal herself and others. Super on the nose, but it’s what she would want, and it also fulfills *my* desire for her not to be hurt anymore (I mean, she still can be, she’ll just recover) Anyway, in March I wrote this for her in that setting. Featuring Shaw as usual since he’s one of my other muses there and, well, you know I love writing my faves together and their conversations because self-indulgence. No obligation to read, just I remembered I had written it and was like “Oh that’s like what Sammy asked about”

Shaw’s latest job was to spread the Krakoan medicine throughout the country of India. A considerable task; India was made up of no less than 28 states and 8 union territories, with an immense and diverse population. There were the dilapidated slums and rural villages that Westerners most often imagined, but there were also bustling cosmopolitan cities, centers of business and technology and commerce to rival New York, and it was in the biggest of these that Shaw was starting---

Mumbai.

Accompanying him on the recommendation of Charles Xavier was Radha Dastoor---Haven of the healing gardens, whom he had previously met when she had helped with his back. At first Shaw had thought this was a bit racist of Charles, but it turned out not only was Haven from Mumbai specifically herself, she had wonderful connections for the tasks. Her philanthropy had connected her with doctors, hospitals, shelters, and its hidden communities of those suffering afflictions such as the oft-claimed-eradicated leprosy. But, Shaw could have done most of that himself, aside from the hidden colonies. No, where Haven came in most handy was, shockingly, her knowledge of Mumbai’s criminal underworld. Not because she had ever been involved with it, but because she had done so much work getting people out of it---the women and children she had worked to get out of human trafficking rings, the survival sex workers rescued from abusive pimps, the children enticed away from little “found families” of criminals who used them for their dirty work.  . .the list went on. And of course she hadn’t been able to do all that alone, she had been funding an entire network of people to get this done, to keep the rescued parties safe and help them in getting to a new life, to block off or arrest those who tried to take them back or attack the rescuers themselves (Haven had been a target MANY times, but those had been in the days when she’d been kept safe by The Adversary’s powers. . . ) and thus she had an abundance of detectives and double agents on the inside. And because they were on the inside, they could bring in the medicine. . . and bring out the mutants being sold, enslaved, and Heaven wept at what else. Mutants that, for the moment, were staying with them in The Rajmani. Haven’s wealth was originally inherited, but she’d kept it coming---so that she could keep giving it away---through The Rajmani, a luxury heritage hotel on par with the likes of New York’s Ritz or Plaza. In income, anyway. In beauty, it surpassed them both. Well, perhaps that was subjective, but it was built within a restored Mughal Palace, and Shaw had to admit he was impressed with the great domes and slender minarets, the  massive vaulted gateways and delicate ornamentation, the elegant water gardens and charbagh walkways through the carefully cultivated yet lush tropical greenery. Most of all, though, he liked learning the fact that the woman earned at least a little of her own money in some kind of sense, even if by her own admission she only owned it, not managed it. Shaw looked down on those who only inherited wealth, just as they had often looked down on him for earning his. Haven, though, did not seem to look down on him. She didn’t seem to have the proverbial stones to look down on anybody, and she certainly was around people who actually deserved it. She seemed to love being around that type, in fact, went out of her way to benefit them, centered her entire life around it. Some people, Shaw had found, were just mad like that. He suspected that it had something to do with growing up with money, taking it front granted and thus not comprehending its worse. But at least she didn’t dare think she was better than him, so she was that sensible at least. Although it was the last word he’d describe her with. No, if he were to describe Radha “Haven” Dastoor, he’d probably start with insipid, senseless, and downright delusional. But she was also. .  .not an unengaging conversationalist. The reverse, actually. “The Mughals were constantly trying to invade Mumbai,” Haven explained, while Shaw nodded along. He was interested in architecture, and in martial history. “But as much of India as they had conquered, the native Marathis were just as constantly pushing them back. It was touch and go for decades. It surprises me that a Mughal structure remained without being torn down, though it was taken over.” “The native Marathis, you say---are Mughals not native? Or merely from another part of India?” “Well, that’s a complicated question, and the answer is a controversial one, so I till try to explain it as neutrally as I can,” Haven replied, and she indeed sounded neutral. They were standing together on the jharoka, an elaborately carved balcony with a roof, each with a glass of nimbu pani, though Shaw would have preferred a good Scotch. “The Mughal Empire in South Asia was begun by Babur, who came from Central Asia, specifically what is today Uzbekistan. His tribe was of Mongol origin, and the word Mughal is itself derived from “Mongol”. He actually came to South Asia to escape his fellow Uzbeks---it’s a very long story--but instead of being a refugee, he became a conqueror, starting by burning Lahore for two days and killing the last Sultan of the Lodi dynasty in Delhi, and the Lodi dynasty itself was not Indian, but Afghan. India was colonized by the Middle East long before Europe decided to try its hand. But to answer your question. . .they did not begin as Indian, no, but they were a part of our country for two hundred years and left a deep mark in our culture---clothing, food, language, art, and, of course, the buildings. But, the same could also be said of the British, and you would be hard-pressed to find anyone, including myself, who considers the British Raj to have been “Indian” simply because they were there for a long time and forced their ways upon us. At the same time, my mother is a Parsi, a people who originate from Iran, thousands of years ago---Parsi comes from “Persian”. And how can one tell me my mother, who was born and raised here, whose mother’s mothers and father’s fathers were born and raised here, that she was not Indian? And though Babur came from elsewhere, his sons and successors were born and raised here, and often to Indian mothers, and their descendants dwell here still, with no other homeland, so are they not Indian? Because if they were not, then perhaps I am not either, at least by half. Ultimately. . . it depends which Mughals, at what time period, and whom you ask, I suppose.” “And I suppose there’s also a difference between ethnicity and nationality to be considered,” Shaw said, though Haven was now losing his interest with this topic. He’d been more interest in the invasions and warring. “Ethnically, one can be anything, and still nationally be American if you were born there or otherwise have citizenship. But, I suppose you need not contemplate such matters anymore--” He cracked a wry smile as she, with a questioning look, awaited the rest of his sentence. “---after all, we are all Krakoan now, are we not? We’re all mutants, and that’s the only thing that matters.” Haven smiled back, not wryly but sincerely, “Oh, I am now, yes. But I am also still everything I was before. I have been balancing multiple identities my entire life Mr. Shaw, I believe I shall be able to continue to do so. But I must confess--” A moment of hesitation. “--I do not truly think of myself as a mutant yet.” She was not sure what reaction that she had expected to this confession, but it was not what Shaw said next. “I don’t either, Ms. Dastoor.” She looked at him in surprise. “Or rather,” he elaborated, “I do not consider myself a mutant in any sense other than in the way I consider myself to have black hair. It’s a physical fact, but nothing else. It is not a “culture” or “identity” to me, and in truth I find such attitudes to be foolish and even dangerous, not to mention a sign that an individual lacks their own personality and convictions and thus must merely default to group identity politics. Being a mutant tells you nothing about me, Ms. Dastoor, and so if I were to talk about who I am, that’s not something I’d include any more than my eye color.” “That’s an especially interesting perspective from someone on Krakoa’s Council,” said Haven, sounding very curious, “Could I ask you---” But her voice was cut off by the unmistakable sound of gunshots---and from INSIDE the building. “The children!” Haven exclaimed. It was not just her and Shaw that were lodged at The Rajmani tonight; it was where the mutants they had rescued were staying before the journey to the nearest portal tomorrow. And most were, indeed, children. As quickly as she spoke, she was moving back inside from the jharoka, but Shaw grabbed her by the elbow, easily holding her back despite her not being a small or weak woman despite her gentle demeanor. Haven was large, and could carry a grown man. But Shaw didn’t even need to be rough to halt her. “You stay put,” he said sternly, “The guards will handle this.” “Mr. Shaw---” “They are better equipped than you, Ms. Dastoor, you will only interfere--” Shaw and Haven had, of course, not come alone. Shaw had brought several trained mutants on his own payroll---not everyone needed to be one of the X-Men to be capable of handling a few humans and their toys--and they had been tasked with keeping watch over, as Shaw had earlier referred to them as, the latest flock of Krakoa’s little sheep. A statement Haven had also wondered about, though it was far from her mind now. Haven might have been about to argue with him. She might have been about to admit he was right, and she should hang back. But as with her question, she was cut off by a gunshot as she turned her face back to him and started to speak. A gunshot, and bullet through the back of her head. It exited through her right eye, and bounced off Shaw’s face and fell to the floor. She would have as well, had he not caught her as she crumpled. When her healing factor had repaired her enough that she regained consciousness, she was on Krakoa again, as were all the refugees, safe and sound. And so was Shaw. “Well, Ms. Dastoor,” he said, “You’ve been murdered---or rather, nearly so--by perfect strangers for a quirk of your genetics. Nothing can make you more of a mutant than that, wouldn’t you agree?” Haven smiled slightly, “I feel as much a mutant as perhaps a Mughal might feel Indian, Mr. Shaw. Take that as you will.” He took it ambiguously. Which was indeed how she had meant it. == END==

[umichenginabroad]

Level 5: Adventure of a Lifetime

Curious about where this stunning view is? You are about to find out.

Hello and welcome to one of the most thrilling levels of my journey (yeah, I lied in Level 4 that this one won’t be demanding). I am sorry I have been AWOL for a while and the game has been on hold but here we are, back again with more action than ever. 

So after the summer term at UNSW ended and I successfully survived my Circuit Theory final exam, we had a week off before T1 (the first trimester) starts. This is the only major break exchange students, who are here for the tailored term, get so everyone takes the opportunity to travel and explore different parts of Australia (or the world). Some students had their parents visiting them so they went on a trip with them. Most exchange students headed off to New Zealand, and some do the East Coast trip in Australia which includes visiting the world famous Great Barrier Reef and the Gold Coast. I decided to visit Tasmania with my friends. 

Tasmania, or Tassie as the locals call it here, is a small island only about an hour and a half away from Sydney via air. Before we start the level, let me introduce you to the key players we will encounter a lot in this post. 

Firstly, Tin Ray Liou a.k.a Bruno, our new friend who we met through Facebook to plan a trip in Tasmania. There are many Facebook groups dedicated to travelling and backpacking throughout Australia as camping and driving around with new people is a popular method of travel here. Secondly, Nolan, a fellow Wolverine. And last but not the least, me. That’s 3 main characters but lots of special appearances will be seen throughout this level.

Let’s begin!

Sneak Peek: Nolan on the left, Bruno in the middle, and me on the right.

We took an early morning flight from Sydney to Hobart (capital of Tassie) on the 9th of February. After meeting up with Bruno at the airport in Hobart and discussing an exciting itinerary for the 8 days, we drove towards the city centre. First thing we did in the city was pick up camping gear from Kmart as we planned to camp for all 8 days in Tassie. Gear consisted of: tents, sleeping bags, camp stove, hiking kits, plastic kitchenware, and insect repellent. After that we explored Salamanca Place, a vibrant cultural town in the city center dazzling with vintage architecture, shopping markets and aesthetic sights. We also strolled along the wharf near Salamanca Place for some fresh views of the harbor and to enjoy local fish and chips.

Scenes from Salamanca Place..

There is a famous Saturday market in Salamanca Place but we missed it by a day. However, on a Sunday, there is the Farm Gate Market, where you can try homegrown Tasmanian delicacies ranging from apples, olive oil, peanut butter to bacon, gin, and cheese. We made sure to indulge in the Sunday Farm market.

Glimpse of Farm Gate Market..

Next up was visiting Battery Point, an old maritime village featuring colonial architecture. After stepping back in time and walking through the fascinating precinct of Battery Point, we set out to find some isolated lookouts with stunning views. 

Views from Battery Point..

Found a beautiful secluded beach..

But maybe, we were not alone. Where do these lead us?

In just a few hours in Tasmania, we were in love with this island. We found a camping ground near this beach and set up our tents before sunset and then cooked dinner. It was going to be an interesting experience because the last time I camped was 4 years ago. The next morning, we set out to hike the kunanyi/Mount Wellington - the summit of the Wellington Range in Hobart. It was one of the first major hikes for me and I was pumped! It took us 4 hours and 45 minutes to make the return journey around the summit of 4163 ft. I was awestruck at some stunning mid-way views. The fact that we had network service, almost throughout our hike was also impressive. Although, it was a very cloudy day so we couldn’t see the whole city from the top, but it’s not every day you have got your head in the clouds...literally!

Our first steps into the Summit walk..

Head in the Clouds at 4163 ft..successful summit of kunanyi/Mt.Wellington..

Our next camping site, Eldee, was super fun and we met a lot of people from all around the world - either visiting Tasmania on vacation or fulfilling some requirements of the Working Holiday visa. 

Luxury Accommodation out in the wild..

Definitely recommend a game of UNO with new friends in the camping lounge...

Now, we have talked about Tasmania a lot already but maybe we are missing something significant. The Tasmanian Devil. People, how could we forget about this infamous animal? Well, we didn’t. My friends and I had the opportunity to pay a visit to the devil in an UnZoo. UnZoo is a very interesting concept of..umm...I will have you read it for yourself.

The UnZoo Philosophy..

Presenting you the greatest jaw strength on the planet: Tasmanian Devil.

Yes, the Tasmanian Devil has the greatest jaw strength of all animals. And trust me, I could feel it when I saw it feed on a piece of meat. One can hear the bones from the meat..crunching ever so loudly. I am glad I could witness the devil in his element up close. 

Before heading eastwards to begin our travel for the Great Eastern Drive, we also checked out a few more sites and breathtaking views. To get a better picture of what I mean, here:

Enjoy this spectacular view from Tasman National Park..

The beautiful Tasman Arch..

A panoramic of Tessellated Pavement - heaven for the eyes. 

Alright..breathing break. Every single view on this island beats the previous one. It’s just a fantastic place to be in. It’s a small island yet it has so much to offer. 

We also visited Port Arthur, a historic site which is one of the most haunted places in Australia. Now, obviously, we signed up for the special Ghost Tour of Port Arthur which took you around famous landmarks at night time - extra thrill! It was a very spooky experience hearing about the tales and torture of convicts at Port Arthur and the personal haunted experiences of the site staff.

View of the Church in Port Arthur against the grim night sky..

Not gonna lie, I slept a little scared that night in my tent. Poof, some more hikes then,

A 3-hr return journey to Cape Raoul..

Special Character: Echidna - spotted on downhill journey from Cape Raoul

In the Great Eastern Drive, we hit up the most popular tourist spots in Tasmania: Freycinet National Park, Wineglass Bay and the Bay of Fires. In Freycinet, we hiked up to Mt. Amos. It was a rough hike with a lot of boulder scrambling and damp weather also made it slippery. But, the greater the risk the greater the reward.

Peep the fascinating sight from the top of Mt. Amos..

..and the white sandy stretch of Wineglass Bay behind us. 

Apologies in advance. But, we may need to take a detour to Mars.

I found Mars, it’s at Bay of Fires.

Orange rocks and a green beach paired with white sand - Bay of Fires seems more like a fairy tale. But it’s real. 

Proof.

We concluded the Great Eastern Drive with Bay of Fires and started driving towards the Great Western Tiers. Great Western Tiers was a mix and match of mountains, lakes, and..caves. 

Little Blue Lake - the bluest water I have ever witnessed upfront.

This blue colour is actually due to tin mining and sedimentation in this area, many years ago.

the 450 million years old Marakoopa Caves in Mole Creek..

Whatever you see in the caves is mostly calcite. Phew. We saved the best hike for the last. Cradle Mountain Summit - the 5th highest peak in Tasmania and one of the most popular hikes among avid campers in Tassie. There are multiple ways you could hike up to the top, including the Overland Track which is a 9 day overnight trek. We did the full day hike, however we did not summit due to time constraints. We still got pretty sweet views from our 5 hour return journey from Marion’s lookout - the highest trek after the Summit. 

The beginning..

midway...

At the top - Marion’s Lookout. 

Now is a good time to piece together the picture I started off with. That shows me looking at the peak of Cradle Mountain, and hopefully you are feeling some sort of adrenaline after reading through all this. 

WOW. That was a lot of hiking and running around to explore. With only one day left, we decided to check out some local festivals in Mole Creek and explore the city of Launceston. We saw a vintage vehicle display, equestrians practicing, and a wood-chopping contest! A chill vibe at the end to complement all the adventure. By this time, we had started missing sleeping on actual beds. 

Bless the sun that day for making the view 10x better..

Satisfied, amazed, and grateful are some of the feelings I can attempt to describe for the conclusion of the trip. Not a single day went by where we were not in awe of this lovely place. Every view beat the previous one and just brought us so close to nature and wildlife. For the most part, camping was nice and cool, except for one night when we had visiting guests in the form of possums. Not one, not two...but three! Right outside my tent by the bushes. They were nice enough to not bother us in sleep..phew. Mountains, lakes, beaches, history, mystery, caves..this island has it all. Just step out and explore, you will not be disappointed.

Alas, it seems like we are finishing the most adventurous level there has been. As I reminisce the last time we set up tents and our last sunset in Tasmania, I hope you enjoyed the ride and thank you for coming this far with me!

Cheers,

…

Nikhil Punshi

Aerospace Engineering, University of Michigan

University of New South Wales, Sydney, Australia - Winter 2020

[aleahadelina-blog]

GO OUT & DISCOVER INTRAMUROS THE WALLED CITY OF MANILA

WHY DO I TRAVEL ALONE?

“I have been travelling alone for quite sometimes now, it is scary to think at first that you are doing things by yourself and being independent away from home. I live far from my parents to study and learn how to walk on my own path. One day when I look back, I will reminisce everything with a happy heart. I will cherish every moment, every place that I went through. Forever.”

Tips for your Intramuros trip:

1.       Plan ahead of time where to go and what to do. (You can visit sites online for fun activities or for any inquires )

2.       Bring your camera with extra battery saver.

3.       Wear comfortable shoes.

4.       Bring your bottled water.

5.       Meet and talk to the incredibly friendly locals.

6.       Enjoy and have fun.

My Intramuros Bucket List 

1.       Fort Santiago

2.       Casa Manila

3.       Manila Cathedral

4.       San Agustin Church

5.       Light And Sound

6.       Bahay Tsino

SAN AGUSTIN CHURCH

I began my journey to SAN AGUSTIN CHURCH

Central terminal station is the nearest station in Intramuros. It is located in Ermita Manila and the popular name for the Station is Arroceros.

“From Central Terminal Station I ride a pedicab because I was honest to myself and I know that I will waste too much time if I will walk down the streets of Intramuros knowing that I do not exactly know where San Agustin Church is located. I decided to go to church first for me to be blessed for the rest of the day and for my safe travels. It was already 1:00 o’clock in the afternoon when I arrived Manila from Makati. It was an hour train ride from Guadalupe Station to Taft Avenue Station and from Taft Avenue station to Central Terminal station.”

“Manong Bert the driver of the pedicab is very talkative but in a nice and mannered way. He is sharing his life in Intramuros about his job and about how much he earns for a living. That is a very heart warming moment for me, knowing the imperfections of the world Manong Bert still managed to do good despite of his situation. It was and still a decent job.”

“It was about 15 good minutes as we pedaled around and arrived to my first stop. So basically, it was a point to point service. 100 pesos is a little bit expensive for a pedicab ride but for me the ride is still worth it. It was fast, easy, and safe.”

 INTERIOR OF SAN AGUSTIN CHURCH

San Agustin Church (or giving its full name, the "Church of the Immaculate Conception of San Augustin") 

“They said that the San Agustin Church survived the American bombardment of Manila in 1945. Of the seven churches inside Intramuros, San Agustin was the only that survived without serious or total destruction.”

“The San Agustin Church is in Manila and more specifically inside Intramuros. You will find it on General Luna Drive. Opening hours of San Agustin Church is daily at 8:00am to 12:00 and then closes and reopens at 1:00pm through to 6:00pm.” Right beside and physically adjoining is the San Agustin Museum.

“I was lucky I was able to visit the church and had a little tour before the wedding ceremony started. The San Agustin Church is known to be the Wedding Capital of the Philippines, there are a lot of weddings each day. In the San Agustin Museum you will get to see the courtyard and it was unbelievably beautiful. The garden is well maintained. Even the room is labelled accordingly with the topic and the rooms are air conditioned, making it a wonderful and pleasant experience to roam around. You can take amazing pictures inside the museum but you cannot take videos said the tour guide.”

CASA MANILA

This beautiful reproduction of a Spanish colonial house offers a window into the opulent lifestyle of the gentry in the 19th century. Imelda Marcos had it built to showcase the architecture and interior design of the late Spanish period, with lavish features throughout and some interesting items such as a double-seated toilet. The house may not be authentic but the stunning antique furniture and artwork are.

BAMBOO BIKE ECOTOURS

Bambike is one of the most popular locally-made bicycle brands in the Philippines. These unique bicycles made from durable and all-natural bamboo and abaca materials are hand-made and crafted by builders from Gawad Kalinga, a Philippine-based community development organization. Bambike aims to be one of the greenest bikes on the planet. 

Rental rates for Adult is 100 pesos per hour and 50 pesos for students with valid ID’s. 

“While I was in the waiting line the girl who is in charge of the reservation for the rental of the bambike approached me. She asked me why I am alone and she was not the first one to ask me that question in that same day. She said it was nice seeing someone out there and having fun alone. Everything about she said makes sense, of course. I answered her that if I tour together with my friends definitely I will really have fun although I will not have the opportunity to really seize the moment and reflect. The only disadvantage was it is hard for me to do the documentation and taking pictures alone. Then we both smiled”

MANILA CATHEDRAL

The present Manila Cathedral, situated at the heart of the walled city of Intramuros has gone several major reconstructions since its inception. The Neo-Romanesque-Byzantine cathedral has long been the seat of archbishop in the Philippines. And it continuous to be one of the most admired churches in the country.

Manila Cathedral also holds religious artworks and sacred relics of popes and saints, and serves as resting place for the remains of former archbishops in Manila

BAHAY TSINOY

Bahay Tsinoy is a museum which presents the story of the Chinese in Philippine history.  The Bahay Tsinoy is located in the historic walled Intramuros area of Manila on Anda Street, making it easy to combine a visit to this museum with several other Intramuros attractions and amenities.

FORT SANTIAGO

One of the most important sites for Philippine history in Manila, Fort Santiago was built by the Spanish conquistador Miguel López de Legazpi as a defensive fortress designed to protect the newly formed city. The fort is a key feature of the famous walled city known as Intramuros �� a complex of manicured gardens, fountains, lily ponds, and sunny plazas, as well as the Rizal Shrine museum, located in the building where Dr. Jose Rizal (a Philippines national hero) was incarcerated during the late 19th century.

“Fort Santiago a world class best of the Philippines and it one of most interesting place I dreamed to visit when I was still a kid. I used to see Intramuros only in books and pictures.. Looking to learn more history about our country and  with our culture and  trying new things around Intramuros was something you wanna look at the future of something look at the past.”  

Fort Santiago admission fee is 50 pesos for students and 75 pesos for the regular rates

“Bambiking through Intramuros and cycling around for two hours gave me opportunity to breathe in, I was pedaling around and I can’t even control the stories that are going through my mind. I have been questioning myself a lot. The only thing I can call my own it the bamboo that I am riding. Everything around me is because of the colonization of the different countries the that brought changes in every aspect in our land and our people.”

“What I actually learned from my Intramuros tour is that, we have journeys on own, we do not have to depend on somebody else about what we believed in, we have to discover it on our own. I was like stepping back into time and  I was living my life years and years ago.”

“Travelling alone is not just discovering new places but discovering yourself too.”

[beaconstreets]

How To Keep Beacon Real Estate Affordable

Perhaps 'Granny Flats' are the answer.

A Granny Flat - source: San Diego Times

In Beacon, NY: No Ceilings, Brian PJ Cronin and David MacIntyre manage to condense the 100-year history and the past 10 years of explosive real estate growth of Beacon into a single article in Upstate House.

I'll leave aside the obligatory Revolutionary War mentions about Mount Beacon -- 'At 1,611 feet, it’s not the tallest mountain in the state by a longshot, but as the site where George Washington’s troops would set signal fires during the Revolutionary War, it was the most culturally significant mountain for Colonial-era New Yorkers' -- and also the authors' nod to the art and music scenes in Beacon, and instead let's jump right to real estate.

“Beacon’s a really cool city and it just keeps getting cooler,” says Charlotte Guernsey, a Beacon resident who opened Gate House Realty in 2001.

The unparalleled growth has not been without its consequences. With the attention has come gentrification, with many long-time residents, senior citizens, and marginalized groups being priced out of town. New housing is being built at a furious clip, but much of it has ended up driving real estate prices up while also angering locals who feel that the taller buildings and questionable architectural decisions detract from the small-town feel that made the city so livable in the first place.

[...]

Beacon’s real estate market had been booming for 10 years, and the pandemic has shifted it into overdrive. Guernsey remembers the first time, in 2005, when the city’s inventory of detached, single-family homes, dropped from its usual level of around a 100 or so to around 50. “We were beside ourselves,” she recalls. As of press time it was 23, and every agent in her office is working with between six and 12 buyers. “ Lots of buyers and not much to sell,” Guernsey says. “That’s it in a nutshell.”

[...]

As of press time, a three-bedroom, two-bath, 2,000-square-foot condo built in 1973 was listed at $259,000. Detached houses were starting around $320,000. Most of the highest-priced listings in town are actually new condos being built in some of those controversial new developments. If you want more than one bedroom, that’s probably going to cost you at least $750,000, topping out at $1.3 million for a two-bedroom, two-bath, 2,641-square-foot.

The pandemic bump in Beacon house prices seems to be around $100,000, according to the Poughkeepsie Journal, rising 21.3% since June 2020.

And, in Dutchess, the average sales price of a single-family detached home increased by nearly $100,000 in the last year, according to Mid-Hudson Multiple Listing Service, which covers most, but not all, of the county's listings.

A lot of the folks in my neighborhood who have lived here longer than the past ten years seem to be cashing in at this local peak. If you bought a place for $140,000 in 2009 and can sell it for over $400,000 today, it certainly looks like a good idea, especially if your dream is to retire in South Carolina or Maine. But the end result is quickening gentrification, making it harder and harder for people working in the local economy to afford Beacon.

Back in January, Jeff Simms wrote Reporter’s Notebook: Does Beacon Have Enough Affordable Housing?, and summarized discussions of the past few years at the Beacon City Council about affordable housing in Beacon:

Nearly two years ago, I wrote about the ongoing City Council discussion regarding affordable housing in Beacon. At the time, the first apartments built as part of the city’s workforce housing program were becoming available, but at prices (beginning at around $1,500 per month) some found startling.

Later that year, the council talked about utilizing the Emergency Tenant Protection Act, a state law that allows counties to create boards to enforce rent stabilization. However, some of the steps required, including a citywide housing survey, were pushed to a back burner when the COVID-19 shutdown hit several months later.

In the two years since, the city has heard consistently from residents that what’s been done isn’t enough. The discussion will be revisited again soon, and I expect there will be a significant push to get something done, ongoing pandemic or not.

Council Member Dan Aymar-Blair said during a meeting this month that “we made a lot of progress bringing new development into balance last year, but we haven’t fulfilled our obligation to the public to truly get development under control until we get the prices under control.”

He went on to cite several segments of the city’s population he believes are being priced out: senior citizens who can’t afford to downsize, college students who can’t move home with their degrees and working class, mostly non-white, residents who simply can’t make ends meet.

The numbers back him up.

source: rentcafe.com

Rent has risen only 6% in Beacon on average, but 92% of all rentals are above $1000 per month, and 45% are above $1500 per month.

In the final analysis, Beacon is not an affordable place to rent for households making less than $6000 per month, or $72,000 per year (using the rule of thumb that housing should be no more than 25% of your income). And buying a home is now unaffordable for anyone who is not ready to make an all-cash offer on a $400,000 home, which rules out all but the wealthy.

One approach to solving some aspects of this affordability issue is that provided by Accessory Dwelling Units, or ‘granny flats’. At present — based on interactions with the Beacon Building Department — there seems to be a hiatus on granting building applications for ADUs, although the City code includes a definition of ADUs, that seems to allow them.

However, two New York legislators — Assembly Member Harvey Epstein of Manhattan and state Sen. Pete Harckham of Westchester— have introduced legislation to make ADUs legal statewide, and to limit local municipalities’ restrictions on ADUs, or outlawing them altogether. As Eric Kober reports, this legislation would

legalize accessory dwelling units statewide. These are second units on lots currently occupied by single-family homes -- for example, in a basement or a converted garage. These units can provide housing for relatives, such as a homeowner’s aging parents or their adult children. They can also provide housing for household employees, like home care aides. However, their greatest potential is as investment units, providing income to the homeowner and relatively affordable rental.

The law would overrule local zoning restrictions that often are designed to exclude ADUs and would lay out a standard statewide process to develop and use ADUs.

This legislation is supported by ‘a coalition of housing advocacy groups’, (unnamed) and provides a way to make cities like Beacon more affordable for young people, people on a fixed income, and those who can’t keep up with the steep rise of suburban New York City housing prices.

We’ll have to see what the legislature does, but such a law could open up a lot of lower-cost rentals in Beacon, and across the state.

[humanistauno]

A Day To Remember

by: Michelle Villareal

​Manila, also known as the Pearl of the Orient, is located in Southern Luzon, the largest with more than 7,000 islands that make up the nation known as the Philippines. Manila serves not only as the country's capitol, but also as its financial, publishing, and business center. The citizens of the city speak Tagalog, but most are also fluent in English which is the language used in public schools. Manila is also known in its scenic landmarks and famous structure like the Intramuros, Fort Santiago and St. Augustine Church still are good examples of Spanish colonial architecture. It still has many to offer, and showcase the country's diverse tourist attractions and its culture.

​This happened 4 years ago when I was in 8th Grade. Mom availed a promo where the tickets are cheaper than its original price, so she immediately grabbed the opportunity for our 3 days vacay in Manila. I know it’s not too long because we still have classes and mom still on duty but at least we experienced something that we want to long ago and it finally came. We went at the General Santos International Airport six hours before the flight, that’s how early mom woke us up to prepare everything but it didn’t bother me though because I can’t contain my excitement. Mom used to be late in every gathering she attended but this time, she woke up early than the rooster whose about to crow. She complained at everything asking why we prepare so slow like mom calm your tits, we still have plenty of hours. Anyways, it was my first time at the airport and nothing can compare the excitement I felt when I saw an actual airplane outside like my mind was about to explode, still can’t believe that I’ll be riding one of those. Mom prepared everything, both the tickets and some stuff. We waited at the departure waiting area for our plane. Later on, the bad news came that lose all my vibe. Our flight got cancelled due to I don’t know maybe that’s how airport works? It’s 11 am in the morning and we have to stay there until 6 pm, what will I supposed to do the whole duration then? So, fast forward, the time has finally begun. I took a picture a lot while heading on our designated airplane, I was a young childish kid back then where I wanted to make others envy on me posting photos on media captioned “manila here I come” with bunch of emoticons, how embarrassing it was. I seated beside the window and also my mom, while my brother Noli was at the back of our seat, don’t mind him, it’s okay with him. When we arrived, it was dark outside, I think it’s about 8 pm. I lose all my excitement because I was so tired that my body badly needs sleep. Tall buildings, restaurants, landmarks, I don’t care about them all, I can’t even open my eyes wide when I saw a handsome man. We arrived in my uncle’s place in Cavite at 1 am in the morning due to traffic, I can’t imagine myself living here. I immediately dived in bed and fell asleep really quick without bothering to change clothes. Day 1, our first stop was Intramuros where we visited my uncle Joseph in San Agustin Church, he’s a priest in there as you all see but now, he’s in heaven serving God, not worrying about anything, and I’m happy for it. My uncle dodo and uncle Joseph was our tour guide, uncle Joseph hired a Kalesa to roam us around in Intramuros. We took a lot of pictures in every destination. The Kalesa driver shared a history to some houses and landmarks that colonized by the Spaniards which is a mind blown information. We had our lunch in a fancy restaurant but I only ate fried chicken because I can’t even pronounce a name on the menu. Uncle Joseph gave us budget for the Star City experienced, mom hesitate but you know uncle, he’s willing to give everything he has for the sake of our happiness. While waiting for the taxi, I can’t stop hugging my uncle thinking that was my last hug with him. Those last words he said that I should study really hard in class, I promise that I will make him proud of my achievements, I just missed him so much. When we took a taxi, I waved good bye at him for the last time slowly as he disappeared out of my sight. We went to Star City, mom bought a ticket and when we get in there, I’m out of words. We wanted to try all the rides since mom bought a ticket said that we can avail all but it’s crowded and my feet hurts so bad. We decided to have some dinner at MOA since it’s walking distance and went home because it’s late and it’s hard to commute due to traffic.

​Day 2, we went to Makati where my cousins and uncle lived, we bring some of our clothes because they insisted to sleep there before we go back here in Koronadal. I was so tired during the trip because we took maybe three or four public vehicles plus the waiting time just to get in their place. For the first time, I met my cousins, Cherie and Christine, I don’t know how to interact with them because my skills in socializing and my self-esteem suddenly falls back to zero, they look so pretty while I look shit. We arrived there maybe 5 pm, we had our little dinner and a small talk but I didn’t bother to talk because I don’t know, I’m too shy, or I just don’t know how to speak Tagalog.

​ Day 3, we woke up early in the morning to pack our things up, we ate breakfast and we took a ride at my uncle's work place. We don't have much time to roam around in Makati with my cousins because our flight will be at 3 am in the morning so we have to be at the airport hours before the flight. We say good bye to each other awkwardly because we barely talk like she asked questions, I answered, and that's it, end of conversation. When we arrived at my uncle's work place, we looked for a food to eat since its lunch time. I don't blame the city for being the busiest, if you have to come early at your work, you have to wake up early considering the time you travel and the traffic. Mom decided to eat somewhere else whatever we passed by. We took a ride at the train station which was super cool. We took our lunch near at the station, it’s just a small restaurant, not that fancy but cheap. We had soup, a dessert and some drinks. After we ate, I decided to roam at the station since mom and uncle was still talking. So, I was roaming and guess what my just saw, a Korean Pop store. I was lowkey freaking out and I can't handle my excitement when i saw bunch of albums, photocards, and some Korean Pop merchandise. I ran to my mom and asked for money, she hesitated at first but I just can’t, I have to buy at least one, she gave me I think one hundred. I bought a photocard of my favorite girl group and I can’t stop smiling all the time as we go. We arrived at the Airport, still have plenty of time since our flight will be 3 am. We took a rest where the passengers wait, I sleep a little because I was so tired after the long duration walking. Mom woke me up when we have to be in the departure area, I bought a snack first and we go in our flight.

​We arrived at the Gensan International Airport early in the morning, I don’t know what time is it because I didn’t bother to check my watch. We headed home, took a sleep and I remember I told myself to wake up before lunch time because I had to attend class in the afternoon but ended up late so I had no choice but to continue sleeping. This was my first-time experiencing Manila and I was beyond happy and didn’t regret being absent in class for three days in a row. I hope it will not be our last.

[iugesorbust]

The city of Christchurch is a patchwork of pedestrian shopping areas and public art and empty construction sites. The town is built around the Avon River, and the entire riverbank is a beautiful green park with lots of public sculptures. The historical cathedral was one of the buildings that was split in two by the earthquake, and so Cathedral Square, a central park in the city, has a feeling of incompleteness. But the city is clearly trying very hard to keep Christchurch attractive.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Their main shopping area is made of metal shipping containers, which actually is a fun looking way to have lots of little pop-up stores. We ate lunch at one of the outdoor seating areas and walked around the brightly colored storefronts. After lunch, our group splintered again, with half of us going to find the Earthquake Museum, and half going to try to catch the mountain gondola outside the city in a town called Lyttleton.

Unfortunately, we found out that the museum was moved too late and it had closed by the time we had arrived at its new location. I’ll be going today, so it worked out. With a few more hours until we were planning to meet up with the rest of our group, we continued to walk around the city.

One of the things that struck me about Christchurch is how clean it is. There’s very little litter, the streets and sidewalks are nearly spotless, and the vast majority of graffiti was street art. I don’t have many pictures, but there are numerous giant murals all over the city. There was very little honking, though construction noises pervaded everywhere.  Additionally, there are no panhandlers or homeless people that we could see. I’m not sure of the politics behind this, but it made walking around pleasant.   In fact, I saw a public bench that had edible plants growing around it, with signs encouraging people to eat them. I don’t think such a thing would ever be built in NYC.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Our next destination was the “Cardboard Church” a replacement cathedral while the old one is being repaired. It was designed by a Japanese “emergency architect,” and it is a very simple, large A structure with most of its main supports made of large cardboard tubes. It wasn’t very attractive. But there was a boy’s choir practicing hymns, and their voices gave the space an aura of serenity and reverence. Nearby there was a memorial to those that died in the 2011 earthquake, an area of empty chairs of various types, all painted white. The rest of the afternoon and evening was spent walking around the downtown, and then we met for dinner.

The following morning, we all met in the hotel lobby at 5:15 sharp with our bags all packed. We were ready to be sent off to Antarctica. Sometime overnight, the hotel’s internet network went down (allegedly caused by malware on a guest’s USB stick?). We had heard rumors that the weather down South was too rough and that we’d be delayed at least a day, but no news had gotten through to us. A shuttle pulled up, and we all started gathering our bags. The driver rushed out and told us there was a 24 hour delay, but that we’d have training at 7:30. We all shrugged and went back to our rooms.

We arrived back at the Antarctic Center at 7:30 for a series of powerpoint presentations and videos that taught us about fire safety, health, proper waste disposal, and the rules for driving light vehicles. The fire officer was entertaining, though he made it seem like fires in McMurdo occur daily. Antarctica is the driest, windiest place in the world, and there’s a lot of flammable material in a tight space in the research stations. Fire doesn’t really care if it’s 100F or -50F, and it always wants to get behind you. The medical officer sent in a video presentation of him talking at his desk in McMurdo. He seemed no-nonsense and glib, like Doctor McCoy from Star Trek. It’s probably not too dissimilar a job. Condoms cannot withstand extreme cold, so don’t keep them in the outer pockets of your parka! Waste disposal is complicated and rigorously eco-friendly, but it will take some getting use to all the very specific and enforced sorting rules. The motor vehicle presentation was a very snazzy government instructional video, with early 90s easy listening jazz and smooth male narrator. It was pretty funny.

Back near the hotel, me and a few of my group-mates had a very lackluster lunch of fish and chips from a hole in the wall across from the hotel, eaten while wandering around the suburbs of Christchurch looking for a spot to sit down (we eventually found a small park).

We journeyed downtown to go to Quake City, a museum devoted to showcasing information about the February 2011 earthquake, and the rescue and repair activities afterwards. We learned that in Maori mythology, Ruaumoko, the god of earthquakes, is still a fetus inside the womb of the mother Earth, Papatuanuku. When he kicks, earthquakes occur on the surface. There are records of large earthquakes from the start of European colonization of Canterbury region, NZ, two hundred years ago . Nearly every ten years, a large earthquake destroys parts of Canterbury. The most recent disasters, the Sept 2010 earthquake and the Feb 2011 earthquakes destroyed 80% of Christchurch’s downtown area. Historic cathedral spires, rose windows, and the historic City Council building all fell down. However, it seems like parts of these buildings fell down in previous earthquakes too. Without belittling the trauma and devastation, why did they keep building tall spires and stained glass windows that would then be destroyed? The museum had a number of testimonies of people who experienced the earthquake first hand. One father and daughter were at a public pool, and the water sloshed like a tsunami around the building. One office worker devised a way to repel down using ropes. A woman in an office building was trapped for five hours in the rubble and lost several fingers.

The efforts of numerous organizations and thousands of people have made the city of Christchurch a pleasant place to live. There has been a huge effort to fill the empty spaces with art. In many ways, it is inspiring to see the resilience and cooperation of the New Zealanders in the face of such a disaster. On the other hand, it should not be optional in these areas to build earthquake-resistant architecture, and I think the fact that some of these historic buildings have been rebuilt multiple times raises the question of whether it’s wise to rebuild things exactly as they were.

Our next stop was the Canterbury Museum, a natural history and history museum housed in a very stately stonework building on the edges of the Botanical Gardens and Christ’s College. Right across the street, there is a very beautiful building which I think is the art center, but there’s quite a lot of signage about Ernest Rutherford and his discovery of the electron. I hadn’t realized it, but he’s a New Zealander.

The Canterbury Museum is very similar to the older exhibits in the NY American Museum of Natural History. Musty stuffed animals, Maori artifacts, and historic Antarctic artifacts were the exhibits that we sought out and enjoyed. There was an exhibit devoted to the moa, a giant bird that looks like a mix between a kiwi and an ostrich that the Maori hunted to extinction. The next hall was split between Maori artifacts and early European colonial artifacts. There was a room that focused on Maori familial lineages, which was interesting just for having hundreds of pictures of Maori women over the years. There was a lot to learn just from the evolution of these women’s names and appearances over the last two centuries, from Maori to Western names and from Maori hairstyles and clothes, to Western dress in the early-mid 1900s and then back to Maori dress.

My favorite exhibit of course was the Antarctic history exhibit. There were old photographs and artifacts of the seal hunters of the late nineteenth century and of the heroic age of exploration. Apparently Scott did an aerial survey of the Ross Ice Shelf in 1904 from a hot air balloon, like our project but 100 years ago. I always have mixed feelings about Heroic-age explorers. They did incredible things and are testaments to human bravery, but their motivations were so nationalistic. The most glaring mistakes they made were because they didn’t listen to other people’s advice. Shackleton was told repeatedly that sailing to the Ross Sea so late in the season would get his ship trapped in ice, and that’s what happened. Scott felt sled-dogs were “unsportsmanlike” so he brought ponies and then when they died and had to be eaten, the sleighs were pulled by them by hand. I don’t know. Hindsight is twenty-twenty. Their old-fashioned cold weather gear is entertaining to look at.

That evening we had dinner at the hotel restaurant. We talked about our chances of finding Scott’s corpse in the Ross Ice Shelf’s radar images (none, so stop asking, a human body is way too small to be picked up by ice-penetrating radar). The day ended, and it was unclear if we would be traveling to Antarctica the following morning, or staying in Christchurch for an undetermined amount of time. I was ready either way.

Not Enough Time in Christchurch (but then we got more time, part 2). The city of Christchurch is a patchwork of pedestrian shopping areas and public art and empty construction sites.

[kdenoto]

Week 1

My journey begins with me arriving at the Catania airport. Here I got off the plane in the middle of the airfield were a transport bus took us to the terminal. This was a bit strange for me because I was used to planes arriving at a gate, but I don’t know if it was because it was a small local terminal and I was just used to international airports like Tampa and Miami. However, I had to do the same in Rome for my connection so I don’t know. I was picked up by the program leader and was driven to Syracuse on both the flight in and the car ride I noticed the country side. It seemed very cultivated with all sorts of trees and bushes, and that it seemed a bit hilly but it seemed nice compared to the flat and swampy nature of Florida. When I arrived at the B&B I was greeted by my group of colleges and became acquainted with my room. We then met our instructors, and we went out for a welcome dinner. Here is where I was first introduced to local Sicilian cuisine. The first thing they serve is antipasto (appetizer) which is usually an assortment of cured meats, cheeses, vegetables, and bread.

 I learned that they drink wine with food to pair with it, the white goes with white meat and the red wine goes with red meat. Since Sicily is an island where the coast is often close fish and seafood is a common staple in their diet. This was unfortunate considering I don’t like seafood nor was I that fond of alcohol. Another common food staple that was served was pasta, however unlike pasta in America they don’t serve meat in the pasta but separate on a plate to the side (aka no spaghetti and meatballs). Afterwards they end the meal with sweets, and then we went home for the next day.

On the next day we had orientation about our schedules, classes, and itinerary. On the second day I had the chance to take in my environment. The first thing I noticed was the heat, it was hot and humid like Florida typically being 35-38oC (85-90oF). Ortygia is an ancient city with a grid urban layout that has been nearly the same since the Greek colonies were established thousands of years ago. The streets were narrow and seemed to be made for walking pedestrians having little or no sidewalks, but vehicles still go through anyways. The buildings are all tall, connected, and colorful having baroque design here or there.

 There are multiple cathedrals in the baroque style with the most impressive one, the Cathedral of Syracuse, being in the piazza Duomo. The churches in Italy are very decorated and beautiful, and they are much more impressive than the ones in America. 

Most of the churches and people are catholic. Ortygia is, however, a tourist trap with many little stands and stores that try to bring you in. One common trick you have to watch out for are people who hold a parakeet, and they try to put it on your shoulder and ask money to take a picture. The best way to deal with them is to say no until they leave. Also, because it has a lot of tourist lots of high end shops and restaurants scatter the area. Although Ortygia is surrounded by water it is very rocky and has lots of cliffs, so there are very few beaches and even fewer with sand. The Mediterranean water is very salty, but it feels nice and refreshing to swim in. Unlike the beaches in Florida where there are many large beaches that have very fine sand, warmer water, and less salty water. 

Another food habit I learned in the morning was that they don’t eat much breakfast eating mostly pastries, cheese, and coffee. I was used to eating a large breakfast with lots of grains, protein, fruit, and yogurt. Speaking of coffee, it is huge there with it being a major part of their culture. They have café shops everywhere. The coffee is small but strong, and it is used as more of a way of socializing so people spend hours talking at a café over a small cup. These bars (café) serve all kinds of coffee like espresso (strong coffee), cappuccino (espresso with milk), and mochaccino (coffee with chocolate). 

Another thing I noticed was that people loved using mopeds like a lot. Almost as much as cars. Later that day I tried a local food called an aracino which is a fried rice ball filled with meat, cheese, and veggies. It was very delicious, and I highly recommend it. 

The third day stared the first school day/week. We learned how to pronounce vowels, articles, and feminine & masculine singular nouns. In Italian the words all end in vowels, and those vowels change based on the gender of the noun. In the archaeology class we were taught about the prehistoric people groups that inhabited the island before the Greeks drove them out and set up colonies. We toured Ortygia seeing its many archaeological sites with some having been incorporated into churches and other buildings. Underneath those temples and altars were prehistoric settlements showing how the Greeks built on top of their conquered foes. The historical sites are not taken care of very well having overgrown foliage and litter. In Italy they have so many archaeological sites that they can’t take care of them all, and they tend to be taken for granted. This is strange to see such history desecrated since there are few archaeological sites in America so what we have is better taken care of. 

For the rest of the week it is a similar routine of learning the language and archaeological history. We did tour the local open markets to learn about different nouns, however the market was an experience in itself. People just had open stands yelling and selling their food products from spices, to vegetables, to oils, wines, honey, and fish so many fresh fish. It was all cheap to and a bit overwhelming since I had never experienced this before. Ortygia had some supermarkets, but they were small and limited while the open market was fresh and cheap. 

Although with all the markets it was still difficult if not impossible to find certain products that are available in the States since I’m used to our supermarkets having everything from across the world available. We also went to the archaeological park to see part of the ancient Greek city. We saw a huge Greek theater, a massive altar, the old quarries, and a roman amphitheater. 

Just like some of the current buildings they were built from the local limestone giving them their signature white color like the Baroque buildings. By the end of the week all the Italian I knew was how to say hello, goodbye, and thank you. Near the end of the week we went to Catania for a day since it was like the big city. It was much larger and more impressive in its baroque architecture as well having a mix of white limestone and black basalt since it is closer to Mount Etna.

 I also had a local cuisine that being horse meat. It was a bit gamy but it was still savory, and it was a bit weird it was once in a life time since eating horse is outlawed in the States. 

[detroittoaccra]

Last week I traveled to Lisbon for the 2nd International Conference on African Urban Planning, held at the Institute of Geography and Spatial Planning at the University of Lisbon.  I felt like I missed out when I didn’t attend the first conference two years ago.  So, despite its inconvenient timing, I seized on the opportunity to attend and learn more about the politics of urban planning and the New Urban Agenda and Sustainable Development Goals of the UN-Habitat project.  More on that to come as I continue to think about the very interesting conversations from that conference.  In the evenings, after the conference closed and in the day and a half I had before my flight, however, I took the opportunity to explore as much of Lisbon as I could.  I went with fellow conference attendees to eat in central Lisbon at night, which often involved wandering around until we stumbled on something that looked good.  In the process, we passed beautiful architecture.  But after the conference ended, I seized my 36 free hours and set off to see the sights.

I’m teaching the second half of the African history survey this semester, which technically begins in 1800, but which I normally begin with a review of the age of exploration – a sort of “how did we get here” lesson to connect African History and the history of colonialism with what are probably more familiar narratives about European exploration to find new routes to the gold and spices of the East.  Since I missed that day in class, I told students that I would see the sights themselves in Lisbon and report back.  In many ways, this is where it started in the late 15th century – where Vasco da Gama set sail on his trip around the Cape of Good Hope and into the Indian Ocean, where Columbus visited on his way to the Americas, where Prince Henry the Navigator funded the development of new sailing technologies and seemingly far-fetched expeditions.  The narratives we get of those histories are romantic.  Only more recently have people raised questions about the appropriateness of celebrating Columbus Day.  Most people could repeat to you that Columbus’s voyage was extraordinary because he traveled West in defiance of conventional wisdom of the time that said that the world was flat.  They could not really tell you much about what happened once he arrived or what and who he found when he got there.  They could tell you that he was looking for gold and spices.  They probably couldn’t tell you anything about the threat posed by the encroaching Islamic Empire and the wealth it obtained through control over the Silk Road and Trans-Saharan trading routes.  I was curious about whether anything was different in Portugal.

On the very first day that I arrived, I was already primed by my Airbnb host, who said that the old quarter of Belem was a sort of shrine to the explorers, built from the profits of colonialism without of a lot of thought about its negative consequences.  Some of that is less obvious.  The monks at Jeronimos Monastery, for example, provided assistance to seafarers passing through Lisbon.  Vasco da Gama and his sailors famously spent the night and prayed in the monastery the night before setting off on their famous voyage around the southern tip of Africa and on to India.  The building was completed with money obtained through a tax of trade from Africa and Asia – trade that Portugal increasingly controlled as “explorers” established new sea-based routes, allowing them access to foreign markets that had previously only be accessible through long-distance, land-based trade that was under the control of the Islamic Empire.  In the process, they effectively reshaped global trade and enriched themselves.

#gallery-0-21 { margin: auto; } #gallery-0-21 .gallery-item { float: left; margin-top: 10px; text-align: center; width: 25%; } #gallery-0-21 img { border: 2px solid #cfcfcf; } #gallery-0-21 .gallery-caption { margin-left: 0; } /* see gallery_shortcode() in wp-includes/media.php */

Nearby the Tower of Belem protected the enclave from potential attack.

While these sites have been preserved as part of a national historical narrative, they sit near a huge monument that makes clear how that narrative is remembered and its significance in the national imaginary.  The giant Monument to the Discoveries sits in between Jeronomos Monastery and Belem Tower, jutting out into the sea, towering over the people below, standing on top of a stone map set into the ground, marked by distinguished Portuguese discovery and conquest.  Built in 1960, this monument reflects a final effort by the dictator Salazar to boost the confidence of the struggling country, which steadfastly refused to give up its empire until the mid-1970s (and then only through significant struggle on the part of African resistance fighters in armed conflict) despite widespread international condemnation.  Read within this clearly political and imperialist context, one reads the symbolism of the monument in different ways.  In turning the “discoverers” into larger-than-life heroes, Salazar makes a moral claim to Portugal’s right to imperialism – an experience and a culture that unites all parts of Portuguese society.  On the monument itself, the explorers are aided by aristocrats and religious leaders, who literally push the explorers up the incline around the monument’s base, symbolizing the critical financial, moral, and political backing that made these voyages possible.

#gallery-0-23 { margin: auto; } #gallery-0-23 .gallery-item { float: left; margin-top: 10px; text-align: center; width: 33%; } #gallery-0-23 img { border: 2px solid #cfcfcf; } #gallery-0-23 .gallery-caption { margin-left: 0; } /* see gallery_shortcode() in wp-includes/media.php */

On the ground around the monument, a giant map marks the sites of Portuguese conquest, symbolically fueled by the winds, risking the dangers of the open ocean, and empowered by the gods of the natural world.

#gallery-0-24 { margin: auto; } #gallery-0-24 .gallery-item { float: left; margin-top: 10px; text-align: center; width: 33%; } #gallery-0-24 img { border: 2px solid #cfcfcf; } #gallery-0-24 .gallery-caption { margin-left: 0; } /* see gallery_shortcode() in wp-includes/media.php */

It’s hard not to feel a little taken aback at the explicit self-congratulatory celebration if one questions at all the narrative of “discovery” and imperialism.  Today, in the aftermath of Portugal’s near-economic collapse, these kinds of statements about historical greatness feel desperate.  In another time, we might easily fall into a sort of self-congratulatory critique.  But very similar questions are being raised about history and memory in this country right now, particularly around monuments.  As these public conversations and some of the excellent public writing by professional historians make clear, monuments often reflect attempts to enshrine particular interpretations of historical narrative and shape historical memory to suit political purposes and to support political claims to power.  Particularly when one is as large as the Monument to the Discoveries, you’re kind of stuck with it.  But how do we recontextualize it after that historical moment, as our understanding of power and the past changes?  How do we address present inequalities and discrimination when monuments to the very people and processes who created the systems and structures of inequality sit in our cities and public squares?

I’m curious to learn more about how this process is unfolding in Portugal, particularly as people pour into the country from former colonies like Angola and Mozambique and the kleptocratic leadership of those countries use their wealth to buy stakes in important Portuguese telecommunications and financial firms.  No one seemed to be talking about it and the permanent exhibits in spaces within the Jeronimos Monastery or the National Tile Museum don’t do much to complicate the narrative, but I likely missed a lot as a tourist who speaks no Portuguese and some of the visiting artists are at least thinking through the relationship between Portugal and its sites of discovery, like the interesting tile work of Japanese artist Haru Ishii found in the National Tile Museum.  And there’s certainly lots of engagement with the history of Moorish occupation in the city.

#gallery-0-25 { margin: auto; } #gallery-0-25 .gallery-item { float: left; margin-top: 10px; text-align: center; width: 33%; } #gallery-0-25 img { border: 2px solid #cfcfcf; } #gallery-0-25 .gallery-caption { margin-left: 0; } /* see gallery_shortcode() in wp-includes/media.php */

The connection to a Portuguese history of colonialism in Africa, however, is a little harder to find – in the winding streets of Mouraria, for example, where many Angolan and Mozambican residents live or in the tours of “African Lisbon” which take visitors through major sites of the city’s contemporary African community.

I walked away from the Monument of Discoveries, and Lisbon more broadly, struck by the incredibly beauty of the city and its connection to its history – I can’t wait to go back.  But I was also reminded once again of how pervasive and insidious the narrative about “discovery” and “civilization” really are and how much we live unthinkingly in the shadow of imperialism and neocolonialism and relive its worst attributes in language, assumption, politics, and perception.  That’s yet another reason why it’s important to learn to grapple with the complexities and contradictions of history rather than sit comfortably with the romanticized memories and monuments of our supposed “heroes”.  People are complicated; so is the past.  And isn’t there a saying about not putting someone on a pedestal unless you want to get them knocked off?

Tourism, Colonialism, Monuments, and Memory Last week I traveled to Lisbon for the 2nd International Conference on African Urban Planning, held at the Institute of Geography and Spatial Planning at the University of Lisbon. 

[meltingalphabet]

The Reunion

This happened two years ago, yet, I can still remember it as if it were yesterday. I’ve told the cops what happened, I’ve told reporters and friends, my therapist... But I feel like I’ve never been able to tell the whole story to them. These people weren’t just victims, they were my friends. They were a huge part of my life. Their deaths weren’t simply the visceral manifestation of insanity, but an accumulation of the lives they had lead, ending prematurely at the hands of someone who misguidedly felt betrayed. I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me start, not at the beginning, but in the middle.

When you’re in your late thirties, you find that you’ve become distant from friends you were once really close with. In college, my wife Victoria (my friend and soon-to-be girlfriend at the time), and I were part of a tight-knit group of undergrads: Nick, Addison, Heather, Leann, Jacob, Ricky, Bianca, and Tom. The last time all ten of us were together, before the incident two years ago, was at Victoria and my’s wedding, back in 2012.

Nick and Jacob lived together in New York City. Nick moved there to be a big shot on Wall Street. He worked at some company named after three old white men, making much more than any of the rest of us. Jacob was focusing on his music, performing as lead guitarist in a Heavy Metal band that, based on social media, was actually gaining some notoriety in the city. Jacob and Nick had been best friends in college, and were still best friends. They had one of those bromances you see on television. They met in college when Nick passed Jacob’s open dorm and heard the sound of guitar. Nick ran to his room to grab his bass, and the rest, as they say, is history.

The other pair of best friends, Heather and Leann, had moved to the Bay Area after college, but unlike the guys, they eventually moved apart. Both were still on the west coast, Heather had moved to a smaller town outside of the city where she worked in publishing, and Leann had moved to Portland to work as a social justice lawyer.

Addison was living with her elderly parents in Boston while she worked on her nursing degree. She had recently divorced her husband of six years, and had become a bit elusive, so that was all I knew, really.

Ricky had moved the furthest, leaving the U.S. all together and living in London with his wife, where he became a fairly successful television writer for the BBC. I had watched all of his shows, though Victoria avoided them. They were filled with suspense, illicit affairs, and kidnapping. She preferred romantic stories or the Great British Bake Off.

Bianca and Tom got married a year before we did. They stayed in Hanover, not too far from Dartmouth, where we all went to school. Bianca owned her own pilates and yoga studio, and Tom, unable to leave college life, worked in the Administrative Department of the school.

Victoria and I moved to Connecticut after graduation so I could work at my father’s architecture firm. Victoria had been working in web development, but was taking a few years off to focus on our daughter, Molly. We had been dating for almost twenty years, cohabitating for fifteen, and married for ten. In that time, the two of us had grown from just two adults, to two adults, a three year old, a loveable, bossy Corgi named Rufus, two fluffy and infuriating cats named Ham and Cheese, and our most recent addition: a curious rabbit named Princess Twinkle (Molly had chosen that name).

Two years ago on a frosty February morning, I opened my email to find an invitation to a weekend get-together from Tom:

Hey Chuckster!

Long time no talk, man. Hope you guys are faring this hellish winter alright. We moved into our new house a few weeks ago (sidenote: I would not recommend moving in January), and we’re already having issues with the roof. Bianca has been busy renovating this baby since last May! She promised me it’ll be habitable any day now. This place is much too large for the two of us, but we’re hoping to fill it soon, if you know what I mean ;)

Speaking of kids, I saw the pictures you posted online last week of Molly opening her Christmas gifts. Man, she is huge! I hope Bianca and I get down to your neck of the woods soon to finally meet the little bugger.

Anyway, I’m emailing you because Ricky called last night and he’s going to be in town this March, from the 23rd to the 30th. I guess he’s doing a few guest lectures at Dartmouth. He asked if he could stay with us, and of course we were thrilled at the idea. Ricky and I got to talking, and we decided it was the perfect opportunity to try and organize a little college reunion! We’re thinking an old fashioned shindig, Saturday the 28th.

I sent an email out to the usual suspects. We’d love it if you and Victoria could make it up! We have guest rooms to spare, so you can spend the night. Hell, stay the whole weekend!

Feel free to bring the kiddo, though keep in mind she’d be the only one under thirty since the rest of us have yet to reproduce.

Love you man,

Hope to see you soon!

Tom

Victoria and I didn’t have any other plans for that weekend, and my mom and dad happily agreed to babysit. The next night, I sent Tom a response saying we’d be there.

For the next couple of weeks, Tom would send me regular updates on the party. Heather and Leann were the next two to agree to the plan. They decided to make the trip together. Heather was going to fly to Portland, stay with Leann for the night, and then the two of them would fly to Boston, where they would pick up Addison and the three would drive up to New Hampshire. A week later, Jacob finally convinced Nick to take the bus up from New York with him.

By early March, we were all booked and ready. Victoria and I were ecstatic. We hadn’t seen anyone since the wedding, which at that time, had been three years ago. Not to mention, as the bride and groom, we really didn’t get much time to catch up with old friends. This would be the first time we all hung out, just us, in almost a decade.

Victoria and I left home early Saturday, dropping Molly off with her grandparents before heading out. The weather report told us to expect some nasty rain that night, so we wanted to get to New England before visibility on the road was bad. We were pulling into Tom and Bianca’s driveway at a little after one in the afternoon, the New England sun high above us, trying to warm the chilly New Hampshire air. It looked so nice, so calm and peaceful. But I could see dark clouds crawling menacingly towards us when I lowered my head to the steering wheel to look up at the distant sky past the edge of my car’s roof.

Tom and Bianca’s home was quite large. It was a classic New England Colonial home, painted a light sky blue with white trim and shutters. A wrap around porch, an addition that was tastefully designed to not contrast the classic structure, stretched from the front door to the side. We grabbed our weekend bags from the trunk, and walked up the front steps. The large white door greeting us warmly.

Victoria’s hand hovered in front of the doorbell, and she looked at me, a huge excited smile stretching from ear to ear. “Ready?”

I laughed at her giddiness, “just ring it, weirdo.”

She pushed, a large chime filling the inside of the house. We waited a few seconds before the door burst open, and Tom stood in front of us wearing khakis and a pink polo. His dirty blonde hair shaggy, yet neat, just like it had been ten years ago. His smiled was crooked on his face, but I noticed a few lines tracing the sides of his mouth. Otherwise, he looked the same: young and cocky. Ego and self-esteem in abundance. His skin was tanned with time spent playing and lounging outside, and the beer bottle between his right thumb and forefinger was as much a part of him as his kind, intelligent brown eyes. I thought of the slight gut forming under my sweater as I noticed that Tom had retained, not only the confidence, but the lean athletic body of his youth.

“Fuck yeah! The adult supervision has arrived!” He hollered before embracing both of us in a warm hug. I could hear a female whooping come from deep in the house, which I instantly recognized as Bianca. Tom and Bianca had always been the partiers, while everyone else joked that Victoria and I were the group’s official old folks. Victoria’s obsession with knitting and my bizarre love of creamed corn helped solidify that reputation fairly early on in our freshman year.

“Come on, come on, the party's already started!” Tom ushered us inside. We followed him into the living room where Bianca and Ricky were sitting, drinking beers. Several hands of cards lay forgotten on the coffee table in front of them.

Bianca jumped up squealing before proceeding to attack my wife with a huge hug. She wore her long light blonde hair in a messy bun on top of her head, and was dressed in dark blue yoga pants and a white t-shirt. Her lips were a light shade of pink, that suited her pale complexion well. Like Tom, she managed to maintain the fit body from her successful cheerleading career in High School and College.

Tom left towards the kitchen while Ricky stood, extending his hand to me. I laughed at the gesture, and pulled him into a warm embrace. As we parted, I eyed him from top to bottom. A wannabe-novelist in his youth, selling out his craft for television had not affected his style much at all. He wore the clothes of a writer: dark jeans and a mustard yellow cardigan that played well with his rich mocha skin, but Ricky was not your usual poet. While one might expect the writer of our group to be lean and frail looking, the clean-cut clothing looked strained again the large muscular body underneath.

“Oh my god! I’m so excited you guys could make it!” Bianca said, finally able to speak intelligible words as she released Victoria from her grasp and hugged me.

“We wouldn’t have missed it for the world! And thanks, Ricky, for visiting and getting this going!” I said over her shoulder.

“I am the proverbial snowball that lead to the avalanche.” Ricky said, bowing jokingly to me. Tom reentered, arms full of cold beers.

Victoria snorted, taking a beer from Tom’s outstretched hand, “poetic, but I don’t think that’s a common idiom.”

Ricky gave her a silent half smile in return, the closest thing he had to a friendly chuckle.

“Fucking English majors.” Tom rolled his eyes, smirking.

“I know, right? We suck.” Victoria retorted and pushed Tom’s shoulder playfully. I tensed slightly. Tom and Victoria had dated for a hot minute freshman year, before quickly realizing their incompatibility. And by that, I mean Tom dumped her after a month because he didn’t want something serious. It didn’t take long for Tom and Bianca to drunkenly hook up at a frat party, and ironically, the two became pretty inseparable for the remainder of our college years, and beyond.

It took Victoria almost a year to recover from the break up. I was waiting in the wings, though. I spent nights comforting her, bringing her ice cream, listening to her lament the loss of another guy. It was worth it in the end, but it still made me uneasy when they flirted like this, even if it was just friendly, and even after all these years. I tried to shrug it off. Tom did flirt with everyone.

I grabbed the beer Tom offered and took a swig. My body loosened instinctively at the familiar ice cold taste.

Looking down at my watch, I saw that it was now two. “When does everybody else get in?” I asked.

“Any minute now!” Tom said excitedly, turning away from my wife to face me. “I just got a text from Heather that they decided to meet Nick and Jacob at the bus stop. Their bus was scheduled to come in…” he checked the time on his phone, “now, I guess. The girls got there twenty minutes ago. According to Heather, she talked to Nick and figured they might as well give the guys a ride instead of forcing them to take a cab.” I smiled, Heather was always the planner of the bunch. If it wasn't for her organization and leadership, our group probably wouldn't have survived long. “With that many bodies, they’re lucky Addison owns an SUV instead of tiny sedan like you guys.” Tom laughed, as if our twelve year old Accord was a joke everyone was in on. “If everything's going according to schedule, they should be here in half an hour,” he finished.

The doorbell rang fifty minutes later. “Bolla bolla bolla!” Tom yelled, throwing both arms into the air excitedly, spilling at least half of a beer in the process. I chuckled. I hadn’t heard anyone say that since college, when we were dumb drunk kids. I wasn’t sure Tom had ever stopped being a dumb drunk kid.

Bianca went to the door, Tom following her, continuing his juvenile call, which echoed off of the high ceilings.

Ricky, Victoria, and I listened to the door open, followed by both male and female voices joining in. “Bolla bolla bolla!” the cries reverberated to the living room. Ricky rolled his eyes, beaming, and Victoria snorted with laughter. I looked at my wife’s face, glowing with a carefree happiness I hadn’t seen since Molly was born. I smiled at her.

Suddenly, a gaggle of late thirty year olds flooded the room with high-pitched squeals and hugs. “Sorry we’re late!” Heather called out, “Nick had to fail at getting the digits of a cute girl from the bus, and we had to watch!” Heather, Leann, and Addison fell into a fit of giggling at this. Nick scowled.

I greeted my old friends, shocked at how much they had changed. Minus Jacob, who, like Tom and Bianca, looked exactly as he had in college. He still wore those round glasses that only artists with oval faces can pull off, or Harry Potter. He didn’t even look like he had aged. He was wearing a band shirt for some band I had never heard of and his long blonde hair was cut exactly like it had years ago. He always had a very Cobain air about him.

I had seen photos of Leann, Nick, and Addison on facebook, and had noticed the subtle changes over the years, but in person, they took my breath away.

The stress of divorce and taking care of her parents while getting her Masters seemed to be taking a lot out of Addison. She had been the nerd of the group: smart, focused, shy, but now she also looked tired, as if she was fraying at the edges. In college, she’d often abandon parties long before the rest of us were ready to go home. She prefered movie nights to frat houses, art exhibits to ragers, museums to bars. She had always been a bit sloppy, but now she just looked… frumpy. Her face old and lined, her brown hair already slowly turning silver.

Contrarily, it was startling to see Leann, Nick, and Heather as polished, successful adults.

Leann, who had always been a bit of a hippie with her long flowing brown hair, unshaved legs, and long skirts, now wore a shorter bob, her hair cut close to the bottom of her jaw, and with much less frizz. She wore some makeup, though very subtle, and her jeans and t-shirt were neat, clean, and fitted.

Nick still looked like he was trying too hard to be cool, but now he had an air of wealth that had never surrounded him in college. His baggy t-shirt with holes at the armpits was now a form fitting striped sweater. He still wore his hair chin length, but instead of looking greasy with unwash, it was neatly cut, combed, and, most importantly, clean. His beard was trimmed close to his face, and he smelled like soap and a very subdued cologne.

Heather was the most drastic. She had never embraced the trend of social media which began late in our college years, and so I did not have any hint about her physical transformation until now. She was never grossly overweight in college, but she was definitely not what you would call skinny. Bianca always had, and still had, the body of a cheerleader. Victoria, even after having Holly, was a naturally very slim person, with a small frame. Heather was much broader and taller. Her hobby of weightlifting always contributing to her feminine but strong physique, her love of fast food giving her some extra weight. Heather was still tall and broad, but now her body was lean with muscle and little fat.

I hugged the slim Heather.

“Wow, Heather, you look fantastic!” I said, releasing her.

She blushed, “heh, thanks.”

She turned to Tom, who winked while handing her a beer. The red of her cheeks deepened, and I noticed Bianca roll her eyes.

“The whole gang, back together! This is insane!” Jacob exclaimed.  

Leann broke away from her hug with Bianca, “Damn, Bianca! Everytime I see you, I’m amazed at how young you still look!”

“Oh stop!” Bianca cried, waving her away.

“So, are you going to give us a tour of this ridiculously amazing home of yours?” asked Leann, gesturing to her surroundings.

Bianca smiled, pleased with the invitation, “of course! Follow me!” She and Tom led us from the living room into the large, modern kitchen, which shined with new chrome appliances.

Nick whistled. “Holy shit, this must have cost a fortune!”

Tom shrugged, “oh this? This was nothing.” He laughed. “This was all the beautiful Bianca’s doing!” He bowed to his wife, who beamed back. “Wait till you see the master bedroom!” And with that he bounded off.

“No, but really, Tom. How did you guys afford this?” Nick’s voice trailed behind him as he followed, leaving the kitchen behind, the rest of us slowly making our own way to the stairs.

“It might have taken a credit card or two to get this place up to snuff.” Tom admitted at the head of the migration.

Heather groaned, never one to hide how she really felt, “you know that's just asking for trouble, right?”

Bianca giggled, “oh, don’t worry about it, Heather. I’ve got it taken care of. Soon, Tom and I won’t have to worry about any of that.”

Jacob looked at Tom inquisitively, but he just shrugged.

Victoria leaned into my side, and I tilted my ear to her mouth as we walked behind the rest of the group. “This place is incredible.” She whispered, her eyes locking on mine. I felt a small twin pang of jealousy in the pit of my stomach. The place was fancy, clean, and immaculate. It was beyond impressive. Our own home was small, decorated in furniture that, if it didn’t start out as used, was now after ten years and a kid. Victoria and my’s love of animals and children made us give up on interior design, organization, and cleanliness years ago. Seeing homes like this always reminded us of our failings.

I put my arm around Victoria, squeezed her closer, and kissed her forehead. “Their place might be a palace, but we’re the ones lucky enough to be woken up at 7am every Saturday and Sunday morning by a small, bossy child and her equally small, bossy Corgi pal.” My wife snorted and pushed me away as we walked into the bedroom.

The room was almost as large as the kitchen. Hell, it might have been larger. The focal point was a large four post bed, draped with white silks. The furniture surrounding it was large, and made of a polished dark wood. In the middle of the ceiling was a small, but still quite grand chandelier. There was even a dark blue velvet chaise lounge in the corner.

“Check out the jacuzzi tub!” Tom cried, throwing open the french doors into the bathroom. Inside was a large round bathtub, with a glass shower next to it, containing many more shower nozzles than I ever thought would be necessary. Both the tub and the shower were surrounded with rich light brown marble.

Tom beamed at me expectantly. I nodded slowly, and said the only thing that came to mind, “wow.” Tom clapped me on the back, and then proceeded to jump onto the steps leading up to the tub. He raised his arms like a dictator about to give a speech.

“And this, ladies and gents, will be where the party ends tonight.” He winked again at Heather, who looked away, pretending not to notice.

“Sure thing, T-bone.” Victoria said sarcastically. “Can we like, not hang out in your bathroom anymore? It’s kind of weird.” Jacob laughed and we walked into the bedroom. Ricky, Nick, and Leann continued to lead us towards the bedroom door, but Tom interrupted the procession.

“Before we leave the luxury of the master bedroom, who wants to play the phone game?” Tom asked in a excessively sensual tone, an eyebrow raised.

“You mean that game kids play in preschool? You want us to get in a circle and whisper a sentence into each other’s ears until it’s gibberish?” Victoria asked, incredulously.  

Tom laughed at this, the alcohol making his gestures and sounds grander than usual. “Not that one, though I guess we can try that later. Seems like Vicky and Chuck’s party games have changed slightly since having a kid.” Everyone laughed and Tom continued, “No, this is a different game.” He walked over and opened the door at the side of the room to reveal a large walk-in closet, complete with a middle island. Possibly for shoe storage? Or something similarly unnecessary and ridiculous.

He walked to a large safe set into the wall, and began spinning the front dial, stopping and reversing it occasionally as he entered the combination. “This is the no-distractions-at-the-party cell phone game,” Tom said. There was a large click, and he stepped to the side, opening the safe door in the process. The door swung heavily, revealing a large dark space. “Everyone who wants to participate in the best reunion ever, put your cell phones inside!” Tom beamed mischievously at us.

“Fuck no.” Victoria said, crossing her arms sternly.

“Yeah, I’m not doing that.” Leann agreed.

“Can you maybe explain the point of this game, Tom?” Nick asked.

“Isn’t it obvious? It’s to ensure our fun night isn’t interrupted. No work, no other friends, no family. Tonight, this house is our world and nothing exists beyond it.” He grabbed his phone from his pocket, and placed it inside the safe.

“I think it’s a good idea.” Bianca said, and handed him her phone.

Tom laughed, “yeah, cause it was yours, babe. Remember? You suggested it at breakfast yesterday.”

Bianca thought back, “was it?”

Tom chuckled and kissed her affectionately on the cheek. He turned to Ricky, “the memory on this one,” he said gesturing to her with his thumb.

“Who needs brains when you’ve got a body like that, am I right?!” Nick whispered loudly to Tom, as he elbowed him in the chest knowingly. Bianca smiled sarcastically at him and I heard Victoria groan quietly beside me. Nick could be an ass sometimes. Heather gave him a small smack to the back of the head, glowering at him. Nick shrugged at her sheepishly.

“Eh, yeah.” Tom said as he put Bianca's phone with his. “Anyway,” he turned to the rest of us, quickly forgetting Nick’s comment and continuing, “haven’t you ever played that game, when going out to dinner where everyone puts their cell phone in the middle of the table, face down, and the first one to check theirs has to pay?”

“Ugh, fine.” Leann put her phone onto the pile.

Heather reluctantly pulled hers out of her pocket, and turned to Tom, “but you better write that combination down somewhere so when someone injures themselves while you’re passed out, we can get a phone.”

“Don’t worry,” Bianca reassured, “we’ve still got a landline in case of emergencies.”

Heather put her phone into the safe, followed shortly by Nick, Jacob, and Ricky. Addison twisted her mouth in frustration, looking from face to face, and begrudgingly handed Tom her phone. Everyone turned expectantly to Victoria and I, neither of us reaching towards our cell phones.

“What if something happens to Molly? What if my parents need to get in touch with us?” I asked.

“You gave them our number, right?”

I looked at Victoria, who nodded at me. Tom saw and continued, “see, they’ll be able to reach you. I promise!” I looked at my watch. It was three thirty.

“Alright.” I sighed and handed Tom my phone. I had texted my parents when we got in, and everything seemed to be going well. I didn’t see any harm in the situation. Victoria followed my lead, begrudgingly.

With all the phones accounted for in the safe, Tom swung the door closed with a loud click. “Trust me, we’ll have so much fun tonight, you guys won’t even notice you don’t have your phones.”

Everyone started out into the hall to continue the tour. I turned to Victoria, and winked, pointing to my smartwatch. She smiled, relief washing over her face. Even with my phone locked away, I’d know if someone was trying to get in touch with me.

Hours later, the beers swished and sloshed inside my stomach while heavy rain beat down on the glass doors beside us. I stood in the kitchen, arguing over the finer details of the most recent fan theory of Game of Thrones with Nick and Heather. Addison stood off to the side, listening to the argument while pulling on the sleeves of her oversized sweatshirt. Leann, Ricky, and Victoria were making a giant dish of nachos while Bianca whipped up a batch of margaritas. Tom danced behind her, trying his best to distract her from her task. She giggled as she leaned back into his body. They swayed to the music - a playlist of their own devising, made up entirely of music that was popular during our years in college. They had speakers set up in each room of the house, all connected to a master stereo in the living room, so no matter where you went, you couldn’t get away. But at least we could no longer hear the wind howling against the house. I watched Bianca move her hips side to side, her pilates-assisted ass pressing into Tom, whose smile was cheser-cat wide. They looked like teenagers. Even with this giant fancy home surrounding them, they acted like they were horny, nineteen, and in love. Just like I remembered.

“He is obviously only half Lannister and half Targaryen! Does he look like any of the Lannisters to you!?!” Nick gestured into the air enthusiastically while staring wide eyed at Heather.

“But does he really look like a Targaryen??” Heather asked, dubious of Nick’s argument.

“That’s because you only watch the show! You got to read the books!” Nick yelled, his face turning red with frustration.

“I have to go to the bathroom.” Addison whispered to the group, obviously uncomfortable with the heated debate, and left towards the stairs.

Nick rolled his eyes, and turned to Heather. “Oh look, we made overly sensitive Addison uncomfortable.”

“Shut up, Nick!” Bianca scolded, and turned to follow her.

He blew a raspberry and continued his lecture on true bloodlines.

Bianca returned several moments later, while Nick was describing the real heir to the Iron Throne in great detail. I turned to her, and she shook her head with a small smile, a sign I interpreted as meaning that Addison needed some space from the group for a moment. I nodded and returned the smile.

Once the nachos were done, we all went into the living room. Bianca placed a wide-brimmed margarita glass in front of me, full to the top with green slushy alcohol, the brim rimmed with salt. There was even a little yellow paper umbrella resting in it.

“Thank you, but I think I’ll pass on this round, Bianca.” I said politely, passing her back the large unbalanced glass, careful not to spill the contents. Bianca looked hurt, so I added “It looks amazing, but I’ve had a lot of beer. I don’t want to overdo it.” She reached for the drink.

Tom appeared behind her, “dude, come on! It’s a party!” He leaned towards me and lowered his voice, “Just one margarita won’t hurt, and Bianca put a lot of effort into them.”

I smiled, and brought my arm, and the margarita, back towards me. “Alright, alright!” I lifted my left hand up in surrender, “I’ll have a margarita.” Bianca’s face lit up. “But just one!” I said, raising my finger warningly at Tom, who smiled in return.

I brought the drink to my lips, and was pleasantly surprised. The margarita was sweet, but not too sweet like most fruity drinks. It was good, but after my first sip, I left the glass mostly untouched beside me as I joined the conversation of the rest of the group.

The years apart were long forgotten as old jokes were dredged up from the past, and shit talk passed from old friends without hurt feelings or damaged egos. We were just a group of carefree kids once again.

“Alright, piss break.” Nick slurred as he slowly got to his feet, stood for a moment, swaying slightly, and shuffled to the bathroom.

Ricky snickered, “wowzers, someone can’t hold his liquor anymore.”

The small black speakers above us began playing a pop song I recognized, but couldn’t name. “Oh shit!” Tom exclaimed, standing up and reaching for Heather, “this was my jam!”

Heather took his hand, and he pulled her up towards him. Ricky jumped off the couch, and shoved it towards the wall, creating more space for the impromptu dance floor. He offered his hand to Leann, bowing to her playfully, and she joined him. I turned to Victoria, who was sitting beside me on the other, larger couch. She smiled, and we joined in the party.

While Leann and Ricky danced awkwardly facing each other, but with an appropriate distance between them, Tom was hugging Heather to him, moving his body with hers to the beat of the music, much as he had earlier with his wife, but his face held a serious concentration that it hadn't before. Heather’s face was locked on Tom’s, her cheeks red.

I cringed internally at the way she was staring at him. It wasn’t unknown within our group that Heather had had a huge crush on Tom in college, but he never returned her affection.

I saw Bianca walk in from the kitchen. She stood, watching them dance for a moment, her face completely blank. Then, without warning, she turned and locked eyes with me. I felt the color rise in my face, and turned away. I figured that, along with all the jokes from the past, the drama was beginning to creep back into the group dynamic as well. We were all drunk, hanging out with people that defined our youth. It was to be expected that the juvenile feelings that marked these relationships in our memories would manifest tonight.

Tom and Heather’s faces were, at this point, only an inch or so apart, their eyes locked. I was about to suggest we kill the dance party when Ricky’s voice rose over the music, “man, Nick’s been in the bathroom for a really long time.”

I looked around, and noticed he was right, Nick was still gone. And so was Addison. Heather and Tom broke away. Tom’s eyes fell on his wife’s expressionless face, and he looked down in what looked like guilt. Uncomfortable, I thought Nick was a good excuse to separate myself from the situation. “I’ll go check on him. Make sure he’s not passed out in there.”

I let go of my wife and walked into the hallway next to the living room. If I remembered the tour accurately, there was a small powder room opposite the kitchen. Tom and Bianca had the decency to not but speakers in the hallway, so while I could still hear the music clearly, it was dulled by the wall. The hallway was dark, so I ran my hand along the wall searching for a light switch, but without luck. There was a thin stream of light coming from a thin, slightly ajar, door. The door I remembered as the small bathroom. Giving up on the light switch, I walked towards the light. I listened for a moment at the door, trying to pick up the sounds of urination, or the dull sounds of drunken snoring, but heard neither. In fact, other than my own breathing and the dull music, I heard nothing at all.

I knocked lightly on the door frame, “Nick? You ok, buddy?” There was no response. I reached my hand up, and pushed the door into the room. The door stuck on something. I pushed a little harder, but still it resisted. I leaned my shoulder into the space between the door and the wall, and craned my neck to look inside.

The door was stuck on Nick, who was sitting, passed out cold, on the toilet, his pants to the ground.

“Jesus, dude. Seriously?” I said, trying to force his feet back towards him so I could open the door wider, but I quickly stopped when I noticed that Nick’s eyes weren’t closed. He was staring at me. Staring at me with blank, glassy eyes. My heartbeat quickened, and I examined the rest of him: his face was bloated and purple, his tongue swollen, pushing his mouth ajar.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck!” I whispered under my breath, as I reached my hand out towards his neck. I tried to find a pulse, but it was useless. Nick was dead.

I pulled myself sharply out from where I had squeezed myself, bruising my arm as I did. I ignored the pain, and walked into the living room, past Tom, Heather, and Victoria, to the sound system, and turned it off. The sound of the storm surrounded us instantly, finally free of restriction. The wind and rain filled the air, thunder echoing into every corner.

“What the fuck, dude?” Tom asked. I could feel their eyes on my back as I tried to blink the burning tears away. I turned to face them, and breathed deeply, preparing myself.

“Nick is… Nick… Something happened to Nick.” I finally said.

They stared at me.

I felt frustration heating my body from the inside, “Nick’s fucking dead guys. He’s on the fucking toilet, and he’s fucking dead.” My voice cracked as tears began to flow freely down my cheeks.

Without a word, Jacob stood and ran out into the hall. Tom, Bianca, Heather, Leann and Victoria followed. I waited there, standing in the living room, alone. Where the fuck was Addison?

Last I had seen Addison was in the kitchen. But then she left to go use the bathroom. And she hadn’t been in the small bathroom, so she must be in the Master bathroom. I ran into the entrance way, turned up the stairs, and climb briskly, taking two steps at a time.

I ran into the bedroom. The room was just as it had been moments before, the french doors still open. I walked to them, and the view inside the bathroom made my stomach lurch with shock and horror.

Addison was in the tub, fully clothed. Her forearms rested on each side of the porcelain basin, her legs bent in front of her. She looked like she could be taking a bath, but the tub was dry except for the small line of blood leading from her body to the drain. Her face was twisted with horror. I felt myself begin to shake as I noticed the huge gash in her head, spreading from her forehead to behind her ear. I could see white skull through her injury. I looked down and saw blood, hair, and flesh on the corner of the lower step to the tub.

I stepped closer, my hand outstretched hesitantly to check a pulse, despite the obvious futility of the act. I had to check. I had to be certain. I placed my hand on her wrist. I tried to keep my face as far from her as possible, yet I couldn’t keep my eyes off of the crack in her head. From there, I could see the split in the skull itself, her pink brain visible under the blood that clumped into the roots of her hair. Her wrist was silent. There was no pulse, no life.

I looked at my friend. Shy, sweet, intelligent Addison. Her body limb. I stepped back and hastened to the sink, where I vomited. Nachos and beer splashed in the shallow bowl, falling on the counter and mirror. But I didn’t care. This was no time to worry about being a polite guest. I vomited again, then straightened and wiped my mouth.

Without turning back, thoughts raced through my mind. Maybe she slipped and hit her head? But the chances that both Addison and Nick died in horrible accidents was hard to believe. Plus, how could she have fallen to her death, then crawled into the bathtub to position herself like that? If this was an accident, she’d still be on the floor.

I turned away from the gruesome scene, and ran down the stairs. Everyone was in the living room. At least, everyone still left alive. Jacob sat on the floor, rocking back and forward, shaking his head in disbelief. Victoria crouched over him, her arms around his shoulders as she cooed words of comfort to him, but he didn’t seem to hear her. His platonic life partner was gone.

Leann had the cordless phone in her hand, tears streaming down her cheeks. She was frantically pressing buttons on the phone, getting more and more frustrated with every attempt.

“Goddammit!” She screamed, “what the fuck is wrong with this thing!?!”

I looked down, and saw that the base had been unplugged from the wall. “It’s dead.” I said, my voice sounded emotionless to my ears. I grabbed the cord, hanging uselessly from the phone’s base, and plugged it in. Leann placed the phone back down and the display lit up. I lifted the wireless phone, but it immediately went dead again. I put it back, and looked at Leann.

“We can't dial while it's in it’s base.”

Leann started sobbing harder. “We need to call an ambulance!” She cried at me, her body shaking uncontrollably.

“We need to call the police.” Leann’s son caught in her throat. She stared at me, her eyes wet and red. I swallowed. “I don’t think Nick died of natural causes.”

The sound of wind, rain, and thunder filled the room as everyone waited for me to continue.

“Addison was murdered. Her body’s in the bathroom upstairs.” I said, as calmly as I could despite my stomach performing somersaults inside of me and my brain shooting electricity through the sides of my head.

I turned to Tom and Bianca. Bianca looked ill and Tom was as white as a ghost. “We need the fucking cell phones.”

Tom nodded solemnly, and turned towards the front of the house.  

“There’s another landline in the office.” Bianca said quietly. She walked to Leann, placing a calming hand on her shoulder. “Come on, I know that one’s plugged in. Let’s go call the cops.”

Leann sniffled loudly and Bianca lead her towards the kitchen. The office was a sunroom extension at the corner of the house.

Heather leaned towards me and Ricky, her face between ours. “Do you know what this means?” Heather said, her voice lowered and horse.

I shook my head, looking at my wife and Jacob, who were still on the floor. Victoria's face was drawn into a pained mask, her lower lip trembling as it did when she was distraught. Jacob’s eyes were wide, but unseeing.

I felt Ricky shift his weight beside me.

“Someone has broken in, and is killing us, one by one.” Heather answered her own question.

Realization dawned on me. I completed the thought out loud, “there’s a killer in the house.”

Heather nodded and we stood in shock at what was happening. The large house loomed above and around us like a great weight. It had morphed from a luxurious suburban home into a death trap.

Our stupor was broken by loud music blasting through the speakers throughout the house. I looked at the stereo, but no one was even close to it.

“What the fuck??” Victoria asked, looking around.

I walked over and pressed the power button, the sound dimming quickly as the lights faded off. Instantly it sprung to life again, music pouring out around us.

“Fuck!” I yelled. The killer must be controlling it somehow.

“Leann and Bianca!” Heather screamed over the music.

Ricky ran out into the kitchen, the girls following. I looked down at Jacob, who hadn’t moved.

“Come on, we can’t leave you here alone.” I said, reaching my hand down to him. Jacob looked up at me, his eyes wide and empty. He shook his head slowly. I bent down and grabbed his hand with mine, forcing him up. He didn’t resist.

I dragged Jacob behind me as we ran to the office door. I saw Ricky throw himself at the white wood door. A loud crack of muscle hitting wood exploded into the kitchen and the door burst open into the room. A metallic scent hit my nose immediately. Ricky’s form took up most of the door, blocking the light from reaching me. Victoria and Heather stopped short behind him and simultaneously started screaming, the sounds harmonizing and mixing with the song playing over our heads. I put my hands on my wife’s shoulders, and looked over her to see the scene, the smell hitting my nose stronger. I recognized it then. It was the smell of blood. Lots and lots of blood.

Leann’s body was sprawled on the floor. I could only recognize her from the shirt she was wearing tonight. Her face was sunken, blood and bone protruding from broken flesh. Lines of red were splattered along the floor and walls, stretching out from her body like a twisted spiderweb. On the floor next to her was an old golfing trophy, I assumed from Tom’s more competitive athletic days. The tiny gold man, frozen in a perpetual swing, was smeared with blood from the violent hand the broke Leann’s body, over and over again.

Victoria turned away from the gruesome scene and rested her head on my shoulder as she sobbed. I hugged her, turning my face from the bloody office. I held my wife tight to me, comforted, if only slightly, by her physical touch. A terrible pop song from our youth ended, and the room was filled with the sound of the raging storm. Thunder cackled and I shook with the sound. Lightning illuminated the window beside me as a one hit wonder came on over the speakers.

Ricky stepped back from the doorway, and faced us. His face stoic, but with a hint of pained disgust. Ricky had always been a quiet lumbering giant. In college, our hockey coach, Coach Hutchinson, was practically stalking the guy to get him to try out for the team. Not for skill, but for his appearance/size alone. But Ricky always refused. He never excelled in his studies either - don’t get me wrong, the man’s not dumb at all, he’s just not interested in anything that isn’t writing. And it’s easy to see why, his short stories and poetry were amazing. I was always fascinated with him, this giant man who could write anyone to tears, love, or terror. If he hadn’t been an English major, I’m not sure how he would’ve graduated.

Victoria was always jealous of his skills. They were the first ones of the group to become friends. Victoria introduced herself to him on the first day of Introduction to Literature. Ricky didn’t talk much, but he seemed to enjoy her company, and Victoria enjoyed silence. They’d spend a lot of nights for those four years, studying and writing together. But while Victoria would spend days on a paper or story, only to receive a B, Ricky would whip something up the night before and get an A as well as public praise. She loved Ricky, but was frustrated by his effortless success. When we all graduated, Victoria tried to make a go of it as a writer, but it never worked out. Luckily, she had minored in computer information technology. When she realized her life as an author would be a long and tireless one without much success, she decided to take some additional classes in programming and web development. She was quite good with computers and that had always been her fallback option, but it wasn’t her dream. Ricky, on the other hand, was offered a professional writing gig immediately out of school.

I remember watching his hulking frame in the doorway and a part of my mind wondering what he’d write about after that night. Would the traumatic evening become a memoir? Or would that night influence a best selling novel? Maybe a new television show?

If he survived, that was.

I scanned the room behind him, trying to avoid looking directly at Leann. “Where the fuck is the other phone?” I asked.

Victoria looked around, “Bianca must have it!” She exclaimed, looking up at me, her eyes filling with hope.

I nodded, “I pray she was able to call for help.”

Victoria nodded, the hope petering slightly from her face.

“We need to search the house.” Heather said, her voice flat. I looked up. Heather’s face was stoic as she stared at Leann. They had been best friends. I untangled an arm from my wife, and reached my hand out, placing it on her shoulder. Pulling away and locking eyes with me, she repeated herself, “we need to search the house.”

Victoria stepped back and wiped her eyes. “You’re right,” she sniffled, “we need to find whoever’s doing this to us and find Bianca. God, I hope she’s ok. I don’t want to imagine what he might… what he might be doing to her.” Her voice cracked with a fresh sob, and she wrapped her arms protectively around herself. I rubbed her back, trying to push the same thoughts and violent images from my mind.

“Chuck and Victoria, you should check the upstairs. See if Tom has the phones. Ricky and I will check the basement, and then we’ll meet here and check the main floor.” Heather instructed.

I nodded, and turned to face the empty kitchen. “Where’s Jacob? He was here a second ago.”

“Goddammit!” Heather exclaimed, “we don’t have time for this. We have to get this situation under control!” Heather stormed off towards the basement door, Ricky following.

I gulped, and, using my hand still on her back, lead Victoria through the kitchen into the living room. The living room felt colder than it had when we first arrive. Even with the lights above us illuminating the room in a yellow glow, it seemed dark, like the corners were hiding secrets that threatened our very lives. I walked to the stereo and hit the large rectangular on/off button. The button popped up from the face of the stereo and the music faded. I breathed a sigh of relief, and we continued upstairs.

The two guest rooms were empty. We had checked the closets and under the bed, and even a large wardrobe in the larger of the rooms, but there was no sign of life. The rooms seemed oddly empty and void of the extravagance the other rooms possessed.

We walked into the exercise room, but the room was just a bunch of exercise equipment and an empty space for yoga and pilates. The closet was full of only yoga mats, bricks, and other assorted items I didn’t recognize.

Finally, we got to the bedroom. I wanted to make sure Tom was ok, but still my legs slowed as we approached the door, the image of Addison, dead in the tub, her skull and brains exposed making my feet heavier with each approaching step. If Victoria hadn’t been at my side, I don’t think I’d be able to go on. I pushed through the emotional quicksand, forcing my feet forward until I was at the open door. I looked in the room and noticed the closet door open and the light on. Straining my ears, I could hear Tom frantically muttering to himself, his voice wet with tears.

Trying to forget the bathroom, I ran to the closet. Tom was desperately spinning the dial of the safe. He looked at me, his face red with tears.

“It won’t fucking open!” He screamed, kicking the wall in front of him hard enough to leave a dent.

“Are you putting the combination in correctly?” I asked.

“Yes, I’m putting the fucking combination in correctly! Of course I am! It’s our fucking wedding anniversary! I wouldn’t fucking forget that!” The corner of Tom’s mouth were white with frothy spit.

I step up to the safe, “What’s was the date, again? I’ll try.”

Tom breathed deeply, and exhaled loudly, trying to calm himself. “It’s June 19th, 2006.” He said. “It’s a five number combination, left right left right. It was 61906.”

I turned the dial to the left till it reached 6, and heard a slight click within the safe mechanism. Then turned the dial to the right to 1, with a slight click. I repeated this until the small black arrow on the dial reached 6, once again. There was no click.

“Well the rest of the combination seems to be working, it’s just that last number. Maybe it’s no longer 6? Either way, it won’t take too long to try the nine other numbers.” I said. Tom nodded, slowly calming himself. I stepped back so he could reach the dial and begin the process all over again.

I lifted my wrist and looked at my watch. The menu had an option to send a text to one of my recent contacts. I could send a text to my mom and ask her to send help. I began to travel through the menu, looking for the option when suddenly loud rock music flowed from the speakers in the bedroom, making me jump.

“What the fuck!” I screamed. I ran out into the bedroom. Victoria was staring at the bathtub, her hand over her mouth, tears flooding down her face. She looked at me, her eyes wide with terror.

“We need to check on the others. We’ll come figure this out afterwards. Someone could be dying as we speak.”

I ran past my horrified wife, Tom following behind me. We flew down the stairs, and into the living room. It was empty. I slammed the on/off button on the stereo. Screams echoed throughout the house. It was coming from the other side of the stairs.

“The dining room!” Tom yelled, and ran, Victoria catching up to us and following. I listened closer. It wasn’t coming from this floor though. It was coming from upstairs. The floor Victoria and I just checked from top to bottom.

I ran to the top of the steps. The sound was coming from the exercise room. I ran in, my eyes registering Bianca and Jacob immediately. But the scene wasn’t right.

My brain tried to interpret the image before me, but it wouldn’t compute. Jacob was on the floor, Bianca above him. Both of them, along with the room, were covered in blood.

“Bianca! Are you ok?” I asked, “is Jacob!?!”

Bianca shook her head, “I’m ok, but… I think… I think Jacob’s dead.”

I rested my hand on my knees, my breath was coming in short gasps. I recognized the uncomfortable sensation as hyperventilating. How could this be happening to us? How could something so fucked up happen to us?

Bianca took a step towards me and I looked up. I noticed a bloodied weight in her hand. The murder weapon. But why was Bianca holding the murder weapon? Had she fought the killer for it?

She took a step towards me. Her face was twisted, not in horror or disgust, but in pleasure.

“Wh… What… what’s going... on?” I said between breaths.

She didn’t answer, but took another step towards me, her smile spreading across her face.

“I’m going to enjoy killing you, Chuck.” She said.

I shook my head in disbelief, stepping backwards.

“Don’t go, Charles.” She cooed. “Poor little pathetic Charles. How does it feel to have married Tom’s leftovers? Do you wake up every morning and remember comforting the love of your life over a basic douche like Tom?”

She took another step closer. My breathing was slowly returning to normal and my brain was clearing. I checked my peripheral for a potential weapon, but saw nothing. The house was immaculate, to the point of resembling a show house. There were no objects, I realized. I was surrounded by giant equipment I couldn’t lift, but no weights, not even a plastic water bottle I could use to defend myself against the petite blood-covered blonde slowly approaching me.

“You were such a miserable dope that first year. Pathetically waiting hand and foot on that stupid whore.”

Bianca took a step towards me, and I turned and ran. I ran down the stairs as fast as I could. I felt like I would fall forward with each step I whizzed by. I could hear Bianca running behind me, her breath ragged and sharp. Her footsteps pounding on the old wood, causing it to creak and groan under her weight. I jumped the last few steps, not looking behind me, not wanting to know how close she was, or to slow myself down. I slid towards the front door, hitting my shoulder into it with a thud. Pain shot through me, but I didn’t care. I twisted the knob, and pulled, but it wouldn’t budge. I threw the deadbolt, and pulled again, but to no avail. I felt a light hand on my shoulder, and the sweat on my forehead turned cold. I looked down and saw four long pink manicured fingernails.

“You’re not getting out that way, Chuck.” Bianca’s voice was calm and dark. I turned slowly to face her. She was only an inch away. I could feel her warm breath and I could see the glint of metal in her hand. A splatter of Jacob’s blood ran through the middle of Bianca’s face. She drew her face towards mine, passing me, till her lips rested against my ear.

“At least I’m beautiful, right?” She whispered.

“What’s going on!?!” My heart lept at the sound of my wife’s voice. Bianca turned, and I could see Tom, Victoria, Heather, and Ricky standing behind her, their faces twisted in confusion and shock. Victoria stepped back with the recognition of blood on Bianca’s face and shirt. “What the fuck is going on!?!” Victoria’s voice filled with disgust and fear.

Realizing what I had to do, I grabbed Bianca’s arms and held them behind her. She squirmed against my grip, “get off me!” She screamed.

“She killed Addison! And Leann! And Nick!” I yelled to Victoria, who looked at me uneasily. “I just caught her! She was standing over Jacob's body!”

“Let. Go.” Bianca cried between attempts to pull away from me.

“Body?” Heather asked hesitantly.

Victoria put her hand over her mouth, as if she might be sick.

Bianca dropped her right hand, the one holding the weight, hard. I jumped back without letting go, just in time to avoid having my hip smashed.

Tom was shaking his head in disbelief, his face lacking all of its usual charm and chipperness. He looked like he was in shock.

“She's still holding the bloody weight! Go look, if you don’t believe me.” I said, my voice strained with the effort of restraining Bianca. “He's in the gym.”

Tom turned and walked slowly up the stairs, hesitantly dragging his body towards the fourth of his dead friends. Victoria followed and Heather, not losing her go-getter attitude during the unreal friend-turned-homicidal-lunatic situation, ran past them and into the exercise room.

Her scream filled the hallway and entrance where I stood, trying to keep the Bianca from killing the rest of us.

Ricky, seeing my struggle, came and grabbed Bianca from me. I allowed him to take her.

“What should we do with her?” He asked.

I shrugged. What does one do when your friend becomes a psycho without reason?

I could hear the group return from upstairs, and I turned away from Bianca and Ricky. Heather looked ill, all of the blood completely drained from her face. Victoria ran to me, and began to sob into my shoulder. I hugged her tightly.

Tom was shaking his head, staring at his wife, who was still being restrained, in disbelief. “Sweetheart.” The word trailed out of his mouth slowly, “did you really?” A tear fell from his eye. Bianca glared at him silently in response. “But why?” He asked, his voice strained and weak.

Bianca stood, her arms held behind her, the bloodied weight still in her grasp. “Why?” She asked, “why!?!” She screamed. She pulled her arms easily out from Ricky’s hold. She stepped towards Tom, and threw the weight at his head. He ducked, and it landed against the wall and fell heavily on the steps, then rolled onto the floor behind us. There was a sizeable hole in the plaster where it had landed. We all stood in shock as Bianca ran into the living room.

I turned to Ricky, “what the fuck?” I exclaimed. Ricky shrugged, and turned to follow her. We could do nothing but watch him leave.

With both out of view, I shook my head clear and ran to the front door. I tried it again, pulling at the knob with all my strength, but it wouldn’t budge. I ran into the living room, luckily devoid of either Bianca or Ricky, and fell on the large window facing the front yard. It was barren of any lock mechanisms and wouldn't even budge when I tried to open it. I growled in frustration, completely losing what little rational thought I had been able to maintain. I grabbed a lamp from the side table and threw it against the window, but it bounced off harmlessly.

“What the fuck!?” I screamed, my voice rough with fear and desperation. My throat was tight and I had to force myself to swallow. I turned to Tom, Heather, and Victoria.

“I told you,” Tom said quietly, looking at the window behind me, “Bianca was in charge of the renovations. She redid the windows and door too. I guess…” He trailed off. But we knew what he was thinking. She didn’t just renovate the house, she created a cage. She planned to murder all of us.

“But why?” I asked. “So she could run away with Ricky?”

“I always thought he had feelings for her.” Tom said, his voice cold and distant. He was lost. Too overwhelmed and in too much shock to feel emotions anymore. 

“Jesus.” Victoria said. “What the fuck do we do now?”

“The most logical thing is to stay here, together.” Heather said, her voice calm and filled with the authority of one often in charge. “The phone will be charged enough for me to call 9-1-1 soon. Until then, we should stand in a circle, with our backs together. That way, we can see if they try to attack us. We outnumber them, they can’t kill all of us at once. That’s the safest thing we can do right now.”

We stood in silence for a second, thinking about the situation and mulling over what needed to be done to survive. A loud burst of thunder filled the room, and lighting illuminated the yard from outside. It was followed by a deafening crack, and the house was plunged into darkness.

“Oh fuck me!” I screamed, my eyes falling on where I remembered the now black phone was behind Tom.

I looked to the window, but the streetlights had gone out outside as well. We were shrouded in utter blackness.

“The cell phones!” Tom’s voice pierced the darkness beside me, “that bitch was the one that suggested we lock them up!” I felt him move beside me, and heard his footsteps as he ran towards the stairs.

“Fuck! Tom, stop!” Victoria called after him, but it was too late. We could hear the thud of heavy footsteps running up the stairs.

Realization hit me. “That fucking bitch must have changed the combination!”

“Probably after she killed Addison.” Heather's voice came from beside me, terror threatening to break the calm she had, till then, successfully forced into her tone.

“We know the combination is mostly the same. Tom just has to try the nine remaining numbers to figure it out. If we're lucky, it'll be one of the first numbers he tries.” Victoria reasoned.

I nodded, uselessly. “Worst case scenario, it won't take him forever to try nIne combinations.” I thought for a moment, surrounded in darkness, and added “I hope he has a flashlight up there.”

“Alright, whatever,” Heather said, “as long as the rest of us stay here, together, we still outnumber them.”

The house wheezed, and shook with the weight of the storm. We stood there in silence, desperately straining our ears to hear any sound around us in the black room. I reached my hand out tentatively to the spot I had last heard Victoria’s voice come from. I found her soft, small hand, and grabbed it. She squeezed my hand in return. I held my breath, the sounds of the storm were overpowering the loud pounding of my blood through my ears.

A crash echoed around us, followed by a streak of lightning which illuminated the room. Behind Heather stood Bianca, her arm raised, the stained trophy from the office hovering above her.

Victoria screamed as darkness descended around us once more. Despite thunder stretching across the sky with a low grumble that echoed in my chest, I could hear the impact clearly. There was a wet thud, and a crack that sent shivers down my spine. A thick warm substance landed on my face and arm. Something heavy began to fall beside me, and I heard the sickening snap of Heather’s bones as she landed, hard, in front of us on the wooden floor.

“That’s the original wood you know.” Bianca’s voice danced around in the dark, and I brought Victoria closer to me, wrapping my wet arm around her shoulders. Her body was shaking, and I could her her breath burdened with heavy tears.

With a sharp snap, electricity flooded the house once more. As the lights came on around us, I felt my stomach lurch and bile rise to the top of my throat: Bianca’s face was mere inches from my own, and she was smiling. Her arm raised above her head once more.

Without time to think or process much of what was around me, I pushed my wife away from me, balled my fist, and punched Bianca as hard as I could in the stomach. Her breath left her instantly, and her hand dropped as she curled into herself, hitting the side of my arm with the trophy as it descended. It stung, but the force behind it was weak and the direction off enough to cause little damage.

Bianca turned in pain, and I saw Heather. She lay on the ground, her limbs twisted around her. As with Addison, her head was split with a crack, but this one was much larger and more ragged than Addison’s. Blood and brains had exploded out of her skull, as if Bianca had destroyed a mere pinata. The room, as well as Victoria and I were covered in the remains of our friend.

I looked to Victoria, who stood motionless, staring at Bianca, her mouth wide open and a splash of blood staining her shirt and pants. Her face was pale, and I saw that she was now shaking more violently, her body trembling at the sight. I reached out towards her. “Victoria.” I said. I looked from her to Bianca, who was trying to stand up straight, her hands over her stomach protectively. She was looking from me to Victoria and back. My hand was almost to my wife’s arm. Victoria shook her head, and stepped back out of my reach. I knew what she was going to do, and I had to stop her with my voice. “Victoria.” I said again. Tears streamed down her face as she shook her head harder.

“No, no, no, no.” She said, the words barely leaving her lips, turning into sobs by the last “no.” She turned and ran to the kitchen. Bianca straightened, shot me a quick glare, and followed.

I stepped forward and grab her arm, “like hell I’m going to let you murder my wife!”

She snorted, “Oh yes, your wife.” She elongated the last word mockingly.

I tightened my grip around her arm and tried to swing her into the wall behind me, but she resisted, digging her feet into the floor and pulling on her trapped arm. I saw her look down at where the trophy had dropped next to Heather’s body, and I kicked her hard in the shin.

She screamed out as the leg fell underneath her, but she continued to reach towards the murder weapon.

Lifting my leg to stomp on her now bent leg in front of me, hoping to break her ankle as my foot landed on her thigh, I felt a hard thud against my head. I fell to my knees, barely missing Heather’s face, and looked up to see Ricky, standing behind me, lowering the weight that killed Jacob to his side. He returned my gaze, his face barely revealing a look of concern before straightening back into apathetic coldness.

Tears welled in my eyes uncontrollably. My head stinging where I was hit. Warm blood began to trickle behind my ear. “Why?” I asked, my voice strained with pain and confusion.

He didn’t answer. Recovering herself, Bianca stood. She looked down at me with disgust, then up at Ricky. In an annoyed tone, she said, “you didn’t fucking kill him, asshole!”

Ricky shrugged at her, “you’re the murderer in all this, not me.”

Bianca scoffed, and lowered herself so that she was level with my ear. “Do you ever think about Tom fucking your perfect wife? Do you ever look at him, goofing off and flirting with even tubbo here,” she gestured to Heather, “and remember with horror and shame that he was the idiot who took your precious Victoria’s virginity?” I could feel an old anger growing inside me, rising from beneath me until my body was alight with its heat. “Does it haunt you, to know that she told him she loved him, and he broke up with her in reply? The woman you were infatuated with, the woman you loved beyond all reason, was used and abused by an idiot. Her heart was torn and all Tom did was go and immediately fuck me. You know why?” She pressed her lips closer to my ear and continued, whispering, “because he thought of her as just a pussy to fuck. He never cared about her. He just liked having that pretty mouth around his cock.” I was shaking with rage. Bianca smiled. “You know, I’ve always suspected that, if Tom propositioned her, she fuck him in a heartbeat. I bet, if Tom asked her to leave you for him, she wouldn’t even pack her bags. She’d grab his arm and run out the door before you even finished taking a shit.”

My rage exploded and I swung the trophy my fingers had found as Bianca made her speech. Despite not aiming, I hit her squarely in the side of the head. Bianca fell to the side. Ricky lunged for me and I raised my arm and swung down, missing his head but hitting his left shoulder hard enough to slow him down.

I jumped up, the sudden movement making me dizzy. I swallowed and ran to the kitchen. Victoria was at the door leading into the backyard, desperately clawing at the sides, trying to peel them free of whatever Bianca had used to seal them. The white door frame was stained with red marks, my wife’s fingertips covered in blood. I noticed with a sickening feeling that one of her nails was missing.

I heard Bianca and Ricky getting up with groans. I grabbed Victoria’s shoulder, “quick, we have to get out of here! That door isn’t going to open, we have to try another way!”

Victoria looked at me, not stopping her attempts to open the door. Her eyes were wide with panic, her face barely recognizable. She was in a manic frenzy, and I realized reason wasn’t going to work. I wrapped my arms around her waist and began pulling her towards the garage door.

Victoria shoot out from my grasp, both of us slippery with our friends’ blood, and ran towards the office.

I went to follow her, but at that moment, Bianca came into the room. I froze and stared at her as she smiled wickedly at me. The trophy was in her hand again. She turned her head, smiled at me, and began to run to where I had just watched my wife disappear.

I lunged towards her, my heart pounding, and reached out, fast. My hand found blonde hair. I clenched my fist. Bianca kept running, but was stopped short by my grip. She screamed as her feet continued to move under her while her head and shoulders stayed where they were. Her legs shot out in front of her and she fell with a crash. I could feel the pull of her hair in my fist as the rest of her body fell too far away. A ripping sound echoed in the room as some of the hair grew slack in my hand. I let go, chunks of bloody flesh falling from my hand where they had pulled free from her scalp.

I bent down to grab her. She rolled out of my reach. I dove at her, but she was standing before I could keep her on the ground. Damn that pilates.

She raised the trophy once again. Instead of wasting time trying to stand, I cowered beneath her, raising my arms to protect my face. A choked sob escaped my mouth as I prepared for the pain. For death.

There was a dull whack, and Bianca’s body fell on top me like a thick heavy sack. I instinctively reached for her as she rolled off, stopping her from falling to the floor, and slowly lowered her. She landed with a soft thud and moaned in pain, putting a hand to the back of her head. I realized I was crying, and wiped my face with the sleeve of my shirt. I looked up to see Victoria, eyes wide, a pan in her hands.

“Are you ok?” Victoria asked. I nodded, relieved to see my wife shaken out of her panic. Hearing my cries and realizing I was in danger had snapped her back to reality and I had my strong Victoria back, but only for a second. Recovering quickly, Bianca reached out and grabbed Victoria’s leg. The back of Bianca’s head, only inches from my face, was bleeding quite badly, from both the pan and losing so much of her hair. Her arm was shaky, but still she was able to find the force she needed to pull her down to the floor.

I kicked at Bianca, and wrapped my arms around her shoulders to stop her, but I was suddenly aware of my body being lifted from the ground, Bianca sliding from my hold. I screamed and kicked as my arms were held behind my back. I felt the large bulk of Ricky behind me, and  I looked over my shoulder at him. His face was oddly calm.

I twisted in his clutch, but he just stared at Bianca in front of him, wrestling with Victoria as she tried to stand while keeping Victoria down. I kicked at his shin, but I felt like a child fighting against a parent, my feeble attempts to harm completely unnoticed.

“What the fuck are you doing, man?” I screamed at him, looking from his face to my wife’s losing battle with the murderer. “You’re married, you’re successful, you’re happy! Why are you helping this psychobitch!?!”

Ricky smiled slightly at Bianca, “because she’s all I ever wanted.” He answered.

I turned away in disgust, and watched Bianca. Despite Victoria being much less injured, she was struggling to overcome Bianca. I tried to pull my arms from Ricky, but his grip was too tight, too firm. Steeling myself, I pulled forward while raising my leg, determined to put every inch of power I had into saving my wife. I kicked back hard, trying to land the blow on his knee and force him down, but he moved back just in time, and twisted my arm tight. I fell to the floor with a scream. He lowered his knee onto my back, pinning me to the linoleum floor. I continued to fight fruitlessly, my eyes glued to my wife.

Bianca was now standing above her, smiling in glorious victory. Despite her efforts, Victoria couldn’t seem to keep her eyes open. I hadn’t witnessed Bianca hurt her yet, or heard any heavy blow. I couldn’t comprehend why Victoria was struggling so much. I watched her body fall limp as all her strength disappeared.

“What’s wrong with her!?” I yelled at Bianca. She looked at me, a small expression of disappointment on her face.

“You’re still looking quite perky…” She said, “you really should have had more of your margarita.” My stomach sank. No wonder she seemed to be recovering so much faster than anyone else.

Bianca raised the trophy, and I screamed, thrashing against Ricky.

“Please, no!” Tears stung my eyes. “Don’t hurt her! We have a child! Please! Stop!”

Bianca looked at me, and winked. Her arms began to descend down and I screamed, the pain and fear exploding out of my violently as I felt the weight of true ineffectiveness.

The trophy come down on Victoria with a wet heavy thump. Blood squirted above her, and fell in a line that connected me to her one last time. Bianca raised her arms and dropped them, over and over again. The sound of the metal hitting Victoria’s face and head made me vomit onto the floor between desperate sobs. She was so drugged up, she didn’t even scream, and soon the room was silent except for the dull thud of the trophy hitting her dead flesh, and the spray of blood against the wall and us. Some part of my mind reach out through the fog of shock and pain to realize that the storm outside had stopped. I fell, the struggle to win, to survive, dying inside me. I watched, sobbing, as my wife’s face was pounded into a mess of flesh, bone, and blood. She was soon unrecognizable.

“Why?” I asked, the word spitting from my mouth as a choked sob.

Bianca turned to me, dropping the trophy at her feet with a clash that rang in the quiet room. “Why? Why!? Why!?!” She repeated, each why growing louder until she was screaming. Her arms were covered in blood, all the way to her elbows, and her face and hair were now wet it. Bits of my wife’s tissue were falling from her clothes, and she took a step towards me, her feet sticking slightly to the blood on the floor. She curled her lip into a snarl as she brought her face to mine.

“Because, I am not just a body.” Her voice was low, almost like a growl. “I have spent my whole life being called dumb, but pretty. Useless, but gorgeous.” She spun away from me, gesturing to the empty room, yelling, “Simple, but at least I’m fuckable!” She turned back to me, “but look! Look at me now!” She yelled, raising her arms to the air. “Am I useless now? Am I nothing but a body now, Chuck? Look at me, look at what I’m capable of!” She lowered her arms, and locked eyes with me, “Now I’ll be remembered for more than being beautiful, more than just a nice pair of tits, more than an ass.” She lowered her face to mine again, and whispered, “I have affected you. Your life is ruined, because of me. You will die at my hands. Could just a body do that?” She smiled, and stood.

Walking towards the kitchen counter, she continued, “None of you ever thought much of me. Don’t try to tell me otherwise. I’m sick of listening to lies. I’m just the pretty face of the group. And for that, each and every one of you will pay.” She pulled a knife out of a drawer, and turned back to me, stepping over my wife’s mutilated body. “And now it’s your turn.” She looked up at Ricky, “pick him up.”

I began to fight, screaming, as Ricky lifted me back to standing. Bianca raised the knife.

A loud bang echoed off the glass surrounding us, making the room resonate with the sound. My ears felt as if they had begun to bleed, and a loud ringing noise filled my hearing. Bianca fell with a heavy solid thud. I felt Ricky’s grasp fall away and I dove to the side. Another bang and I turned to watch Ricky fall backwards, hitting his already bleeding head on the window behind him.

I looked towards the door to the living room. Tom stood holding a shotgun up to his eye. His arm fell, and the gun hung uselessly beside him. He looked from my dead wife to his, and then to the dead Ricky. His eyes locked on mine and I saw an intense determination within them. His jaw was locked in a stern expression I had never seen before. Slowly, a deranged smile grew on his face.

“That cunt didn’t know about Janet here!” He threw his head back and laughed maniacally to the ceiling. Tom had always enjoyed traditionally manly sports and activities. I wasn’t surprised hunting would be one of them. I guess Bianca hadn’t approved. Thank god that didn’t stop him.

“But… she drugged the margaritas… How are you still standing?” I stammered.

“I spilled mine before even getting a sip. And here I was, worried she’d be pissed I stained the couch!” Deep barks of laughter spewed from his body uncontrollably.

I jumped up, and ran to the living room where I had plugged in the phone, but it was gone. Tom was still laughing like a psychopath in the kitchen.

“Jesus, Tom. Shut the fuck up, will yea?”

Tom stopped laughing, his face falling to a frown. He walked to the couch beside me and sat down. All the energy that was there seconds ago drained from him. I didn’t care, I just wanted to get out of that damn house.

“Did you get into the safe?” I asked.

Tom shook his head solemnly.

“Was there any window or door she didn’t replace in the renovations?” Tom shook his head hopelessly. I clutched my head, trying to force the images of what remained of my wife in the kitchen from my mind. “Fucking hell, Tom, just shot the damn door open!” I growled.

“No more bullets.” He said, blankly.

I screamed in frustration, and sat heavily beside him. Putting my elbows on my thighs, I dropped my head into my hands, and began to sob. The salty liquid flowed out as waves of emotion washed over me. All of the stress, fear, and shock of the night was drowning me, and I had decided to let it.

And then my watch buzzed. I sniffled, blinking away the tears, and looked down at my wrist.

My smartwatch. It was 9:08pm.

The screen was illuminated, and in small font it read:

MOM:

Hope you guys are having fun!

Finally got Holly to bed.

She misses you!!

Xoxox

I sat there, dumbfounded for a moment. I hit the right button on the watch, and selected the Reply option.

From there, I had the option of Voice, Canned messages, or Emoji. I looked at the options for a moment mulling them over..

A scene floated in front of me, an image of me sending a kissy emoji, then going into the kitchen, turning on the gas, and kneeling in the oven until this pain was permanently erased. But then I thought of Molly. I thought of her smile, and her laugh. I thought of her red tear stained face as I put a band-aid on yet another skinned knee. I thought of her sleeping beside me, the look of innocence and peace. She had so much to learn, so much life ahead of her. A life of pain, loss, love, discovery. A full life, a life of value.

I breathed in, and selected Voice. A little icon of a microphone displayed.

“Send help.” My watch thought for a moment, and then the two words displayed on the screen. I selected the ok button.

Sent.

[catthu]

Finding Ljubljana

Ljubljana was only meant to be an intermediate stop on my way from Vienna to Venice. So without any idea of what awaited, I arrived in this lovely city a Sunday evening, when the sun had almost set. It ended up being my favorite destination of my multi-cities Central and Southern Europe trip so far.

My AirBnB host Milena, an elderly but energetic woman, walked up a set of stairs up to my apartment on the 4th floor (or 3rd floor, as they called it here). The building was reminiscent of low-end apartment buildings in Saigon -- decorated tiles with a touch of colonial architecture and a stairwell capped by bland ceiling. We shared travel stories of common places we’d been to -- and she had been to quite a lot. When the subject changed to the old Yugoslavia, Milena shook her head. It was better under communism, she said. There was security: job security, housing security, and so on. Everything provided for you. Slovenia had become worse-off nowadays. When the country adopted the Euro, prices literally doubled overnight. Yes, that was a while ago.

(I looked up the Slovenian economy afterward. It has about $20k GDP per capita, with a low Gini index and high HDI index. Not a shabby country!)

Maybe Ljubljana rests (super) early at night, or maybe because it was Sunday, but the streets were almost empty when I headed out again. It wasn’t dark yet and there were cars and and people; but compared to Vienna where I had just been this was hardly a crowd. I could probably see fewer than 10 other cars / people at any given time. And we’re talking about the very center of the city, as asserted by Milena. There was an Intercontinental not so far away, so it must have been true.

A really cool thing about (at least this part) of Ljubljana was how bike-friendly it was. Traffic lights featured bike signals next to pedestrian signals (do they ever differ in practice? I’m not quite sure). Side walks are wide with a dedicated lane for bikes. Crosswalks similarly had a lane for bikes. Bike racks were everywhere. On many streets, the pedestrian and bike lanes took up more space than the car lane. Best of all, the city was just flat, so biking should feel very pleasant.

After dark, Ljubljana looked even more empty. Yet it somehow managed to strike that balanced between being deserted and being alive. At various points I felt the urge to pause and check -- was I really at the center? But soon enough, I saw some dragons sitting on a bridge. Yep, center. Walking along those streets reminded me of walking along the streets of Boston: dark, empty at parts (especially the parts people actually lived in), but familiar and homey. It felt more like I was living there than just visiting. There were only a few people here and there, but whenever I was in their sight I refrained from raising my phone and taking a picture, lest they saw me as a mere tourist.

The best I can do to summarize the charm of this city is that: everything about it felt good. The food was the best I’d had so far on this trip. When I was eating dinner, a couple people stood by the bar conversing with the bartender the whole time in Slavic. Other diners (and there were only a handful of them) exchanged greetings with the staff (there were only 2) as they came and went. My waitress asked about hiking in San Francisco and told me about a National Park near Ljubljana (there was only 1) that I must go to. She’d always wanted to visit the States --- her friend said there was a good national park in California. Did you know that 1 in 3 Slovenian did something outdoorsy regularly?

In the main square in front of the pink church, a man played the accordion. The accordion would be a cheerful instrument, usually, but somehow he managed to make it sound kind of sad. A few people here and there walked hastily through the square, one street to the next. A group of young people sat by the metal model of the city looking at the accordion man, talking to each other.

Oh, did I forget to mention the blackout? As soon as I left my apartment to get dinner, all the lights in the apartment building turned off and everything became pitch black. It was just the hallway lights though -- the light in my apartment and everywhere else still worked. I walked down and up the stairs in the dark, never managed to turn the light back on.

Maybe it was the daytime, or maybe it was Monday, but my next day in Ljubljana was much more lively. It still wasn’t a Vienna crowd by any mean, but there were noticeably more people. It started out relatively empty when I woke early for my morning run along the Ljubljana river --- no car (pedestrian and bike only zones) and almost no other pedestrian, just people setting up their shops and restaurants. The buildings and river were green and beautiful without being overwhelming. By 10, the shops had opened and the people out and about. Unlike other popular tourist destinations, there were surprisingly few (if any) of the people walking around trying to sell you tourist merchandises and services -- postcards, photos, selfie sticks, etc. An outdor farmer market opens up at around this time, with local and imported produces. It had “tourist price,” but you were supposed to bargain.

There was this Ljubljana Free Walking Tour. I only attended the first half due to my train to Venice, but I still highly recommend it. My tour guide said that the people in Ljubljana were patriotic, but not to Slovenia the country but to the city itself. Ljubljana had had a turbulent history due to its strategic geographical position and had been parts of many historical super powers --- so the nation changed, but the city always stayed the same. Sitting at the intersection of Central, Southern and Eastern Europe, Ljubljana felt like a melting pot of people, customs, and even architecture (there’s a fun story about Italian architecture here). The people were sociable, educated, with a long history of writing and the arts. Every Slovenian I interacted with was helpful and spoke flawless English. And if my tour guide were representative, they were extremely funny too.

And so, as I was leaving I felt a tinge of regret that my time in Slovenia was so short. I know I only stayed in the Old Town and there was much of Ljubljana I hadn’t seen, but as far as first impression goes this was hard to beat.

[creativitytoexplore]

[SF][FN] Episode 2: Higher Learning/ Another random story from my fictional universe https://ift.tt/3uNd6Dj

Episode 2: Higher Learning

“We came this far, this close, only to have our prize taken from us!” Kalina Shul complained in front of her apprentice. “After all we went through, we tried to prove we were not heretics to the Church of Jusara. Instead, the Holy Empire formed a blockade around us, all because some lousy cultists started a fight on their home world. You can bet the United Colonies Alliance will hear about this.”

She was a master mage and she was looking for a book known as the Histories of Magnus. She was a Draden, a native to the world of Vystera, and her order, the Vystera Collegiate Society, wanted the book for study. Her kind hoped to recover long lost magical arts, such as the ability to walk from planet to planet, but Magnus had passed, taking all of his secrets with him. The only record left was his journal, now named the Histories of Magnus.

The VCS finally located it; the book was aboard the UCA station known as Orion Station. The task had been entrusted to her, but after coming all this way, the librarian of Star Library, told her that a gang known as the Primals took it to the southern sector of the station. This sector of the station was known as the Honey Den, a hive of miscreants and criminals the likes of which existed in the worst slums of the galaxy.

She paced back and forth; her lizard like feet hit the ground, as she stood under the light, which illuminated her glowing, orange scales and black, armored robes; a dark cowl and mask covered her face. She turned her three eyes on her apprentice, a red scaled Draden with purple eyes, wearing a brown robe. His name was Ayden Vadar, a young Draden, who showed much promise in the defensive arts of magic, “Master, there must be a way to recover the ancient book? Surely someone within the Honey Den knows.”

“I’m certain they know where it is, my dear, it’s simply a matter of how much it will cost us. If a gang took the book, then they’ll probably sell it to the highest bidder.” She looked around at Orion Station which was no different from any other human city. Humans had a weird sense of style; their polymer shaped buildings were quite different from Draden architecture. They liked for everything to look sterile, while somehow appearing colorful with bright lights. There was no thought to functionality, no thought to usefulness, or how the colors blended together; the bright lights were an eyesore to look at.

“Worst of all those Primals are a Mutep gang.” The Mutep were a group of hairy, four armed bipeds with long bushy tails. They and the Draden fought a war known as the Dominus War, which was ended by the UCA not but a mere ten years ago. She hated them with a passion since she fought in those wars, but her apprentice did not share her hatred, “Master, you know not all of them are the same. Look, let’s go get the book and return to Vystera as soon as possible.” She gave him a look, causing him to laugh, “I swear you grow more intolerant each day, let’s go before you tell me we got destroy the whole station.”

“You were too young to remember how bloody that war was, so many lost, so much destroyed and so much of our magic lost. Why do you think we are seeking the book in the first place? Our race used to be one of the most magically attuned species in the galaxy. The Mutep destroyed our colleges, our technology, our…” Ayden held up a hand, “I get it, but we have to move past our prejudice or other wars will start and plague the galaxy.” She found herself angry at the rebuke of her apprentice, but perhaps he had a point. For now, she needed to get the book back. “Come Ayden.” She led the way through the city streets.

They walked through large crowds during simulated daytime on the sidewalks. Roads of pure electro-steel passed between metal sidewalks as hovercars passed by them. The station was well kept with guards equipped with heavy, gray armor and armed with laser carbines every couple of blocks. The two wound their way through the city streets, passing through a series of clean alleys and blocks until the city started to change in form.

What was once clean looking polymer buildings became mountains of iron, and streets of concrete. Not a single guard could be seen for miles around, and the average citizen looked as though they wanted to rob the duo. Ayden looked somewhat scared, not used to the dangers of the undercity of any planet. He was privileged enough to avoid such places in his young life, and his fear was palpable enough that she could feel his psych through her magic sense. “Don’t worry Ayden, I’ll keep us safe. In order to find the book, we’ll need to head to one of these fine drinking establishments.”

“You mean a bar?”

“Of course, wet lips are loose lips.” She said, but her apprentice was not quite amused, “More like a death trap waiting to happen. How can anyone be forced to live like this?” He was still naïve, still needed time to grow, “Humans are greedy, as is everything else in the galaxy. Enough talk, let’s be about our mission so we can leave.” She led them down several blocks, till they came to a building that was made of wood, fashioned after an Old Earth pirate ship. The building had neon lights that said “Sunken” atop it. Kalina walked towards the Sunken Bar, with two Mutep guards standing outside. “Well, well, pretty young Draden came to play in our bar huh? What the hell do you scaly scum want?” He crossed two of his arms while the other one of the other two latched onto the pistol in his holster.

“Nothing that an ape like yourself could understand.” She said as he growled only for his partner to get between them. Ayden did the same for Kalina. “Master, let’s try not to get into a fight, please.” He pleaded, but she was looking to start a fight. She hoped the brute would reach for her so that she could put him down, before he knew what hit him. Ayden, however, was still green behind the gills and he needed some time before he was combat ready. Instead, she passed by them into the saloon like tavern. The floors were made of wood and the tables of iron while dusty lamps barely illuminated the bar. Waitresses and waiters served their patrons at a pace that seemed lackadaisical. Lucky enough, two barstools were open at the bar.

The two sat next to three burly humans, taking a moment to survey their surroundings. The bar was filled with humans, Mutep, and Vinitor, a bug like species with large compound eyes and wings that covered most of their body. She took notice that most of the patrons were Mutep, many of which eyed her and Ayden now. The bartender, a middle aged human with a scruffy gray beard looked them up and down as he filled a mug with some putrid ale and passed it to the chubby human to her right.

“What might a pretty, young thing like you be doing in a place like this?” He said which caused a feeling of disgust to run down her spine. Humans would mate with anything that had legs and she found the concept disturbing. “I’m looking for a book, a very important book to the magical society, but I hear the Primals took it. Any idea where it might have gone?”

“That depends,” He looked past her to the Mutep behind them with no regard to subtlety. She did not turn around, though Ayden did. “Master,” He said worried, while Kalina looked the bartender in the eyes, “You could at least get a lady a drink, before you try to jump her.”

“Don’t worry lass, it’ll be over soon. The Primals pay quite well to keep their secrets, even more so to catch any Draden that come snooping in their business. I might even get to have a little fun once you’re subdued.” He put on a gross smile, but Kalina knew that these fools had no idea what they were dealing with. She closed her eyes for a second as the Mutep behind her approached. She waited as Ayden began to summon some defensive spells. Some of the humans and Vinitor took the hint and left, but the Mutep began pulling weapons. Ayden summoned a shield just in time to catch several laser bolts. Kalina opened her eyes, summoning a horde of eldritch tentacles which ensnared her opponents. She pulled her pistol from her waist and shot the bartender through the shoulder, turned and fired three rounds through the nearest Mutep. One shot through the head and two through the chest to drop him immediately.

Before they knew it, she pulled her wooden staff with a purple, moon crystal on the end and extended her hand, releasing a torrent of lightning which caused the second to drop his gun and burn. Before they knew it, she was amongst them, using her staff to bludgeon another, while the others were freeing themselves little by little. They blasted the tentacles and retreated towards the back of the bar, where they would form their last stand. She waved her staff in a circle till three magic circles appeared and shot out three ice spikes at the four remaining Mutep thugs. The spike went through the throat of one while the other two went into a second. Both fell to the floor dead, while the remaining two began to cower. One foolishly tried to run only to be blasted through the head, “My apprentice seems to think that I need to be less hateful to your filthy kind, now get over to the bartender.” Both cowered before her. “Lady, listen, we were paid to keep the secret of the book, please don’t hurt us.” The Mutep said nothing only muttering to himself now and again. Ayden looked on the two with concern, hoping his master wouldn’t have to kill anymore.

“I’m only going to ask once, if you fail to answer then I will let my friends here,” She summoned a few tentacles, “Take you to the Weird and have their way with you, after all I wouldn’t want a naughty boy like you to be disappointed. Especially when you had such great plans for me once I was tied down.” The Weird, or the Primordial Realm was where all life in the galaxy, including the divines originated. That said it was often difficult for mortal kind to comprehend, and more often than not, turned mortals mad from an extended stay.

“Wait, please don’t hurt me it’s at the Underground just east of the bar.” The Mutep next to him tried bash his skull in, but Kalina shot him in the chest and the tentacle took him through a purple portal. The monsters within would keep him alive and torture him for the remainder of his short life. “You really gotta watch who you pick on dear, I’ll leave you alive, but your bar belongs to my pets.” She snapped her fingers and tentacles warped into the bar and pulled the tables, chairs, and lights into the Weird. They tore down his bar and threw the bottles of ale across the room. “Come Ayden, we’re done here.” She said as she walked out of the bar.

Ayden tailed just behind her as she walked confidently in the street, “How, how,” He seemed to choke on his words. Kalina looked back, her confident smile disappearing, “War is hell my dear, I was much younger then, about your age, innocent just like you. My family fought as agents of Vystera and so did I. What no one told me was that war made us monsters, desensitized us to violence, and caused us to hate those that we share our galaxy with. You think I am intolerant for no reason, but when you watch these brutes rip your friend’s limb from limb, it leaves a lasting impression. Hope that you never have to see the same horrors that the rest of us have.” She said as Ayden followed, unable to say anything more.

The two walked through the streets, taking in every detail. The simulated sunlight was blocked out by the heavy smoke of the sector. A few men and women stood around barrel fires to stay warm. Others sat on stoops and yet others hung out in alleys. The two headed towards a large alley in between a convenience store and an abandoned building. Mutep stood in a small, unadorned square, three of which were fist fighting and the remaining seven were cheering. “Doing a bit of canonizing?” Kalina said as the thugs all turned toward them. The seven drew pistols without hesitation and fired, but Ayden was faster. Acting out of fear rather than bravery, he summoned a magic shield blocked the bullets while Kalina summoned green fire to her left hand and a purple light in her right. She hurled the flame at the three in the center, causing a large fire to erupt as they howled in agony. The other seven continued to fire until Ayden released the shield, which left a kinetic blast in its wake to knock four Mutep against the walls. The other three rushed them, but the purple light in Kalina’s hand, spawned a bladed tentacle. The tentacle ripped through the first Mutep’s head then sawed the second in half. The third charged her and knocked her to the ground, following his assault with a barrage of punches.

She tried to defend herself, but with four arms and a brute’s strength, she would be overpowered before long. The frontal assault kept her from concentrating her magic while black blood filled her mouth. At this rate, she would be knocked unconscious. Fortunately, a kinetic force rammed into the Mutep, knocking him off of the Draden. He attempted to recover, only to be interrupted by a shot through the throat from Kalina’s pistol. She looked up to see Ayden panting at the exertion of the fight.

The remaining four, managed to pry themselves off of the wall, just in time for the mages to recover. They shot at the two, catching Ayden by surprise as three bullets landed in his shoulder which caused him to spin to the ground with a cry. Kalina opened fire, emptying the clip, to put two of the four Mutep to the ground. Instead of reloading, she focused her will, sending out a wave of purple light that engulfed the last two. Both howled in pain as muscle and bone popped out from underneath their fur. Their muscles constricted, crushing internal organs, and their eyes bulged, until they exploded. Kalina turned to find her apprentice, nearly passed out. “Master…” She stopped him, “Heal your wounds and stay out here. I will go get the book and be out in a matter of minutes.” She betrayed no emotion, if she was worried about Ayden, she did not show it. Ayden frowned at the thought, was his master really so cold?

She turned to face the chapterhouse, where a portion of the Primals gang stayed. Kalina moved past the square, towards a small wooden house behind a tattered iron fence. Not surprisingly there were no Primals outside. She assumed that they would be on the first floor, waiting to ambush her. Kalina ducked behind the iron fence, just in time to dodge a hail of submachine gun fire from the windows of the chapter house. She grimaced as she began to channel her magic, open her mouth, and release magic smoke. With the last of her magic reserves, she opened her eyes to the magic currents of the world. Instead of seeing smoke, she saw the energies of life, magic, and even the Weird. Most importantly she could see her targets, two of which lacked the sense to stay under cover. She put three rounds into one then another, leaving the other two to retreat. Kalina rushed the door and used a force blast to shove the door in. Her enemies were actively retreating; rather than let them escape, she summoned her tentacle whip and caught the first of the thugs by the ankle. She sensed his panic as she pulled the whip back, entangled him, then enhanced the whip with spikes allowing it to rip the Mutep’s head off. The other panicked and fired, his submachine gun. She caught a few bullets to the chest, but her armor protected her at the cost of getting the wind knocked out of her.

He charged her, but before he could pin her, she knocked him aside with her staff. Kalina stood slowly, and shot the last two shots into the Mutep as she stood and took a breath. “Worthless apes.” She said as she looked upstairs. The magic of two figures shown; one exuded confidence even with the terrifying screams from the room below. Kalina reloaded her weapon, but right before she could get to the door she heard, “Come on in, you already killed all ma’ boys.” She paused for a moment, knowing better than to give her enemy time to think, or monologue for that matter. She had no time for his worthless chatter anyway.

Kalina stepped through the door and fired two rounds into the unsuspecting Mutep guard, killing it instantly. Before she could shoot, the Mutep lieutenant held up the book as well as a device. “I know this book is what you want. Shame that we could not just work out a price. Now tell me why I should not release this switch and let this book burn?”

“The minute you do, you die. Hand me the book, before I add one more body to the count of your worthless kind.”

“A survivor of the war huh? My pops told me about the Dominus War, told me you people were almost decimated by our kind.” She almost shot him on impulse, but the device he carried would have activated on his death. “Your kind set us back several hundred years. Our academies, our technology, and hundreds of years of magic lost because you filthy monkeys set foot on Vystera.” Her rage seemed to satisfy him, “How about this, swear to me upon your magic that you won’t harm me, and I’ll give you the book.” She sat thinking for a moment. Revenge was not worth losing the book, but perhaps she could have both. She chanted a few words in the ancient language of her people, summoning forth runes and glyphs upon her robes. They were harmless to her of course, but the ignorant brute would never know the difference, “There, if I bring harm to you this magic that surrounds my body will kill me.” He laughed as he took the book and removed the device. “Must have hurt your pride, huh honey.” He said with a smirk. He threw her the book, and she looked at it with awe. At last, some of their long-lost magic would be recovered. “Now get out of my sight little witch.” He smiled too pleased with himself.

“Just one more thing,” She said as he gave her an annoyed look, “What are you gonna,” She raised her pistol and shot, splattering his brains all over the window behind him. Finally she let out a smile and returned to Ayden. The sooner she was off this station the better. She took Ayden and together they left the station and headed back to her ship.

“Lady Shul, did you manage to recover the book?” The librarian asked after hearing about the carnage left in the Honey Den.

“I did, but the Mutep burned it before I could get it.”

“A shame, such great wisdom lost, well my lady I wish you luck in your journeys. Should you ever need any wisdom from literature, stop by our library again.”

She cut off the feed and lifted the book onto the table. An idiot human had no place keeping a treasure such as this, she smiled, knowing it would be in the right hands. She stood within the cramped ship quarters and turned to the left room. Her lizard-like feet padded on the soft carpet as she opened the sliding door to find Ayden laying on a small bed. “We got the book, was it worth all the corpses we left behind.”

“Ayden, you may not believe me, but yes it was. Our civilization will gain back a piece of what we lost.”

“And what if we did more than that?”

“We’ll worry about that when the time comes, for now, rest easy.”

“Master, we only breed hate when we kill them. Worse could happen, wars, bloodshed, and,”

“And that is enough, Ayden, you know little of what you speak. You aren’t aware of the horrors of war, you lost nothing from the evils that those creatures caused. We fought so long, so hard, just so that we could be a shell of our former selves. The UCA stopped the war, but we still lost, all of the sacrifices were for nothing.”

“We gained peace.”

“We gained nothing but loss and hate, now take your rest Ayden.” She said frustrated. She left his room and entered the room on the right for some much needed rest. She sat cross legged and meditated, letting herself get lost in the currents of the magic of the universe. She felt the chaos of the galaxy, an ever present tension on the verge of eternal wars. What awaited her in her future journeys, only time would tell?

submitted by /u/Afro_Knight9577 [link] [comments]

[travelinglifeshighways]

Grand Canyon National Park

Grand Canyon National Park

Grand Canyon, Arizona

Tuesday, June 12, 2018

Clear, 95°

“The wonders of the Grand Canyon cannot be adequately represented in symbols of speech, nor by speech itself.  The resources of the graphic art are taxed beyond their powers in attempting to portray its features.  Language and illustration combined must fail.” - John Wesley Powell  

After the little hike at Horseshoe Bend it was only a couple hours’ drive to The Grand Canyon.  The Grand Canyon is a steep-sided canyon carved by the Colorado River in Arizona.  Words like Grand, Massive, Oh Wow, and Impressive cannot truly describe The Grand Canyon.  Its massive size overwhelms the senses.  It is 277 miles long, up to 18 miles wide and attains a depth of over a mile (6,093 feet).

Grand Canyon Sign

The canyon and adjacent rim are contained within Grand Canyon National Park, the Kaibab National Forest, Grand Canyon-Parashant National Monument, the Hualapai Indian Reservation, the Havasupai Indian Reservation and the Navajo Nation.  President Theodore Roosevelt was a major proponent of preservation of the Grand Canyon area, and visited it on numerous occasions to hunt and enjoy the scenery.

Distant Canyons

 Nearly two billion years of Earth's geological history have been exposed as the Colorado River and its tributaries cut their channels through layer after layer of rock while the Colorado Plateau was uplifted.  While some aspects about the history of incision of the canyon are debated by geologists, several recent studies support the hypothesis that the Colorado River established its course through the area about 5 to 6 million years ago (*Wikipedia)

Grand Canyon

On the South Rim side of the Park, there is no need to drive around in traffic.  Park your car or RV and ride the free shuttle buses around the village and out to scenic overlooks.  The drivers are funny and very helpful getting you to where you want to visit and offer great hints to get more out of your visit.  I am not sure what the North Rim has for services but know it is higher in elevation and more remote.

Grand Canyon toward East

Coming in from Page, Arizona through the east gate, the first stop on the eastern end of the South Rim is the Desert View Watchtower, built in 1932.  It is one of Mary Colter's best-known works.  It is 27 miles from Grand Canyon Village; the tower stands 70 feet tall.  

Desert View Watchtower

The top of the tower is 7,522 feet above sea level, the highest point on the South Rim.  It offers one of the few full views of the bottom of the canyon and the Colorado River.  

Colorado River Below

It was designed to mimic Anasazi watch towers, though, with four levels; it is significantly taller than historical towers.

Desert View Watchtower interior

Mary Colter (April 4, 1869 – January 8, 1958) was an American architect and designer.  She was one of the very few female American architects in her day.  She was the designer of many landmark buildings and spaces for the Fred Harvey Company and the Santa Fe Railroad, notably in Grand Canyon National Park.  Her work had enormous influence as she helped to create a style, blending Spanish Colonial Revival and Mission Revival architecture with Native American motifs and Rustic elements; that became popular throughout the Southwest. (*Wikipedia)

Plaque on top of Tower

Desert View Watchtower gives you another “Oh Wow” moment with the full view of the Canyon below.  As you look out for miles on end, the Canyon is before you to the west and the high plains of the Colorado Plateau are toward the east.  The vibrant colors of the Canyon, even in mid-day, gives a depth and saturation only dimmed by the slight smoke of the forest fires in Colorado several hundred miles away. 

Colorado Plateau

There were a couple of Navajo vendors inside the Tower who were giving cultural information while making their crafts.  They were doing wood and stone carvings with several work stations set up for visitors to watch them work.  Both were very informative and answered questions while they worked.

Grand Canyon - Another Oh Wow Moment

Driving the twenty five miles along the South Rim to the Grand Canyon Village, there are multiple places (overlooks) to stop for views and photo opportunities of the Canyon below.  At each pull out, several vehicles made a daisy chain caravan stopping for photos.  It was slightly funny to watch everyone get out, look for a couple minutes, snap a few pictures and head out to the next one.  This went on for the whole twenty five miles to the Village.

North Rim Horizon

Approaching the Village, it suddenly got really crowded as the Parks Service had quite a bit of road construction going on.  Several roads were being repaved so crews were directing traffic into single lane passes as the crews stripped the old pavement and filled in so the new surface could be poured and smoothed out.  Like most Government projects there were quite a few workers with many standing around, several operating heavy equipment, and several supervisors talking to each other.  It will probably be a long summer of work . . . maybe with the high temperatures and tourists all over the place it would be a great idea to work night shifts.  More work could be done with less people driving by, there would be cooler temperatures to work in, and you would be a little more productive in the process by getting more miles of pavement put down.  Oh well, that would be too easy, just an observation from years of construction projects.  (Rant over)

Getting to the Village Campground, finding a place to park, and waiting in line to talk with the Camp Registration office, it was slowly learned that I had not booked at that campsite.  With a little digging in the Parks computer system and me looking at emails from March it was discovered that when looking to book, everything was full and I had booked just off site at a campground with a similar name.  It was about this time that I really felt like an idiot but the lady assured me that it happens almost every day.

It was time to get back in the RV, turn around, hit traffic again and find the way to the Park entrance and drive a mile down the road to the new campground.  This one was expecting me so check-in went smoothly and it was time to set up for another night in paradise.

As I was setting up the RV for the night I could hear that familiar “Whup, whup” sound of helicopters flying about.  The campsite was along the return path of flight seeing helicopters on their way back to the airport about a half mile away.  They must be doing a great business as there were choppers returning to the airport in sets of six or eight returning about the same time with the process repeating about every twenty minutes or so all afternoon.  The campground had two elk that grazed across from the RV and five to ten more were further back in the campground.  I believe they live there and stay in the area as several people said they were there every morning and afternoon eating till the sun went down.

It was about six hundred feet to walk to the shuttle bus stop outside the campgrounds so it was easy to make our way back to the park to view the sunset.  The bus driver, Trey, was entertaining and talked about the smoke in the Canyons today. He said he had property in Durango, Colorado and knew all about that fire.  It was started by the narrow gauge railroad that operates in the area and that the fire was still not close to being contained.  He chatted with an Asian family who was also on the bus.  He gave specific directions once getting off the bus on the fastest way to get to the Canyon rim for the best photo shots in the area.

The sun was just setting, giving an orange glow to the western horizon.  The walls of the Canyon to the east were highlighted by the Alpenglow of the sun and gave nice details between light and shadow on the cliff face. 

Afternoon Sun

There were several overlooks in this area around the Village and all were full of people snapping photos of every cliff and overlook. 

Afternoon Vistas

At one glance I could see about forty phone screens illuminated, held high taking photos or selfies on one ledge overlook. 

Sunset 1

It was kind of humorous seeing everyone running around trying the get that great shot of the sunset or the Canyon walls all aglow.  You could hear the quiet voices of many different languages talking, a true international gathering of people celebrating the same thing, a beautiful sunset. 

Sunset 2

Everyone stopped in awe of another day’s passing into night, shadows, and darkness.

Sunset 3

The bus driver also told us about the Grand Canyon Star Party that is held each year in June.  Due to its dark skies and clean air, Grand Canyon offers one of the best night sky observing sites in the United States.

Evening Star

Grand Canyon Star Party

For eight days in June, park visitors explore the wonders of the night sky on Grand Canyon National Park's South Rim with the Tucson Amateur Astronomy Association and with the Saguaro Astronomy Club of Phoenix on the North Rim. Amateur astronomers from across the country volunteer their expertise and offer free nightly astronomy programs and telescope viewing. Through the telescopes you might view an assortment of planets, double stars, star clusters, nebulae and distant galaxies by night, and perhaps the Sun or Venus by day. At the 2018 Star Party, Jupiter and Saturn will be evening highlights, but you might find an astronomer pointing a telescope at Venus in the early evening. Mars will rise just after 11 pm for those staying late in to the evening. (NPS information)

There were between fifty and seventy-five telescopes set up in the rear parking lot of the Village Visitors Center for the public to view the heavens once darkness set in.  As the sun’s glow on the horizon was quickly diminishing the planets and stars were appearing across the night sky.  Most telescopes were set up to view Venus and Jupiter as those were visible as soon as darkness set in.  It was great seeing Jupiter and four of its moons so clearly through several telescopes.

We waited for this one man to set up his eight or nine foot tall telescope so we could view whatever he was going to point too.  It was funny because he had trouble locating the North Star so he could calibrate his telescope but I and another by-stander showed him where it was.  He spent about twenty minutes zeroing in his instrument before he was ready to view the stars.  When he was finally locked on to his target it was a star nebulae cluster.  It was beautiful, having the appearance of something like the Milky Way.  You had to climb up on a ladder to get a view through the lens of his telescope.

It was a beautiful high desert evening, cooling off nicely once the sun dropped below the horizon.  It probably dropped 10 degrees in about thirty minutes or so.  The bus driver reminded everyone that the last shuttle from the Visitors Center left at 9:30 so stargazing had to be put on hold but it was hard to leave then as the stars were just beginning to pop out all over the heavens.

Walking across the parking lot where all the telescopes were set up, looking west there was a sudden burst of exhilaration from the crowd as a shooting star appeared to the right and fell in a beautiful greenish arc across the sky to the left.  It was if the astronomers had ordered this beautiful light show.  The crowd continued in an excited state for several minutes hoping another one would fall.

Taking the shuttle bus back, we had the same driver, Trey.  Two young men (boys really) about twenty years old started to get onto the bus toting their bicycles.  Trey said to them loud enough for anyone on the bus to hear, “Does it say anywhere that bicycles are allowed “In” the bus?”  They stepped back off and started to go to the rear of the bus when he called out again to them, “I’ll give you a hint, not that way guys!”  They stopped, turned around and went to front of the bus where a large bike rack was attached to the bumper.  The boys, looked at it, looked at each other puzzled wondering how to attach their bicycles.  Trey got off the bus and happily showed them how to operate the simple hold downs for quick loading and unloading of the bikes.

As he spoke about bicycles being allowed “In” the bus, this Hindu family just cracked up and was excitedly talking back and forth while the bicycles were loaded on board.  As the two young men entered the bus, the family continued talking excitedly; they seemed amused that the boys were finally able to get on.  Their son who was about nine or ten started asking Trey all kinds of questions about the Park, the Canyon, many types of animals and more.  Trey told the mom and dad they needed to get this young boy some books as he “had wheels and was going somewhere with his life!”  He asked the boy why he knew so much about the Grand Canyon and the area.  The little boy answered, “I Googled it!”

A little comedy, beautiful sunset, the Heavens opening up with stars, and seeing a meteor fall close by, made for a very memorable day Traveling Life’s Highways.

[foundtheworl]

New Post has been published on Found The World

New Post has been published on https://foundtheworld.com/lisbon-winding-alleys-gorgeous-castles/

Lisbon - The Winding Alleys and Gorgeous Castles

Back in the 1500s, Portugal was a name to be reckoned with. Its sailors were amongst the most fearless of the lot, exploring regions never before sailed to and forged trade with the flourishing empires of India and South East Asia. Over the next few centuries, the Portuguese had amassed wealth and gold beyond measure through trade and colonialization and had built some of the most fascinating pieces of architecture, mostly centered around their capital Lisbon.

The mystic of Lisbon (or ‘Lisboa’ as they call in Portuguese) is unheralded in the glory of their high castles, their various gastronomic delights and the cultural integrity that sticks together eons after. When I landed in the capital, what struck me most was the general terrain of the place. Lisbon, situated somewhere near the center of Portugal, sits right on the shore line across the country. Having a very rugged terrain with steep slopes across the city, it takes an experienced driver to navigate the streets. So if you are not too sure of your driving skills, I’d advise public transport because they are affordable and ply around frequently. Just my two cents!

Just like many capital cities in Europe, Lisbon also exhibits various distinct localities inside the city. Moreover, since there are a lot of enchanting stuff in and around all these locales, I’d chart them out, to make it an easier to-do guide around Lisbon.

  Alfama

Alfama is the gateway to the old city of Lisbon. In here, you can find many restaurants which serve traditional Portuguese food Francesinha and Bacalhau. While walking around the street, I heard this fascinating tale about the cuisine Francesinha.

Apparently, a hundred years ago, restaurants that did not plan their food resources properly had a lot of food that went to waste in the evening due to a dearth of customers for the day. Soon the restaurants realized that this was a problem and devised a dish that included layering up food that remained at the end of the day. Thus over time, Francesinha was born. Today, the recipe includes bread, french fries, ham, fresh sausage, and steak, covered in a deliberately generous amount of cheese with tomato and beer sauce toppings. Quite a mouthful and definitely something to try out if you are in the city!

Image credit : spacetrash/Flickr/CC BY 2.0

There is this another legend of Alfama that needs to be talked about. Back in those times, the district of Alfama was relatively poor and a thriving hub for brothels, with most of the decent folk avoiding the place altogether. This changed after the year of 1775, when a disastrous earthquake rocked Lisbon, killing almost 50,000 people in its wake. Nearly all the buildings in the town center were razed to the ground with churches bearing the brunt as well. However, surprisingly, Alfama escaped its fury and was nearly intact. This situation took the Portuguese by surprise. As a religious and god fearing populace, they could not understand the fact that the area with the brothels did not suffer God’s wrath but the rest of the region did. This event supposedly created a wave of acceptance of the Alfama downtrodden and had laid roots to the Portuguese liberalistic tendencies.

All this aside, Alfama houses some of the grand boulevards in town, with cobble stones decked along the way. In here, I have tried including some of the sights and experiences to enjoy in the district while you get treading around.

  Portas do Sol viewpoint

This is the posterior end of Alfama after you walk through the winding streets and check out a lot of cool graffiti plastered on the walls. Portas do Sol gives you a view of the brown tiled rooftops of the city’s exterior against the azure river, with quite a liberal dose of sea breeze to boot. This is a good place to click a few pictures as well. Sometimes if you are lucky, you could also listen to some Fado music on the street connecting the viewpoint.

Image credit : Gianpiero Addis/Flickr/CC BY 2.0

Riding the Tram Number 28

The number 28 Lisbon tram is a famous ride around Lisbon. It connects Martim Moniz with Campo Ourique and passes through the popular tourist districts of Graca, Alfama, Baixa, and Estrela. The interesting feature of this specific tram ride is that the carriage dates back to the 1930s and the very nature of it wheezing past traffic on contemporary roads is a good experience to watch out for.

Image credit : zoonabar/Flickr/CC BY 2.0

  Top of the National Pantheon of Lisbon

This is another popular tourist destination for having a view on the banks of the Tagus river. The National Pantheon itself is a good place to visit if you are interested in medieval architecture. Moreover, once inside the church, you could get into the elevator which takes you to the top of the dome where you can enjoy 360-degree panoramic views of the whole city.

************

Alfama apart, the city center itself is a place teeming with famous monuments and sights to visit.

  Praca do Comercio

This is probably the most famous square in the heart of Lisbon. It holds the merit to be the place which saw probably the only bloodless coup in the history of a country’s independence. In the year of 1974, Portugal got rid of its dictatorship by overthrowing its authoritarian government and replacing it with democracy. This is an achievement since this struggle was mostly peaceful with not a single bullet being fired during the whole episode.

Image credit : joaojap/Flickr/CC BY 2.0

From the Praca do Comercio, you can enjoy breathtaking views towards the Tagus river and have some excellent Portuguese style cuisine from the multitude of restaurants decking the shore.

  Santa Justa Lift

Today, the Santa Justa Lift is just another tourist attraction, but a few decades back, a lot of people used it to avoid climbing the steep slope up the Carmo hill. You could pay a few euros to go up and enjoy a splendid view of the city.

However, if you have no intention of paying for the ride, but still want to enjoy the view, I would suggest you follow the path towards the Carmo ruins which leads you up to the top deck.

Image credit : infomastern/Flickr/CC BY 2.0

Belem region

The area of Belem is quite famous for the number of museums and especially the Pasteis de Belem, a patisserie known for its world famous Belem cakes. The store throngs with people throughout the day (not for nothing) and if you get the time, I would recommend you try everything on their shelf. They are worth their weight in gold!

  ************

Sintra

If you had been waiting to know why there was not a single mention of a castle ever since I opened up the article with that – there’s a reason. A few kilometers west of Lisbon is a place called Sintra, which is known to be the place where you can see fairy tales come alive.

Sintra, has a breathtaking mix of castles, museums, palaces, nature and botanical parks, so much so that it would be impossible to explain every one of them in detail. If you are thinking of making a trip to Sintra, make sure to spend at least two days in the place. I assure you that your time there is worth every penny.

Without further ado, I would introduce you to the two most important places that you got to visit when you are in Sintra.

  Quinta da Regaleira

The Quinta da Regaleira is bewitching in its beauty, not just with its magnificent 20th-century palace, but also with the natural park that it is built over. Once you enter their premises, you are given a map to roam around, trying to spot exotic locations and outposts to climb and marvel at.

The interesting thing about the place is that it is riddled with underground tunnels and little ponds, which make it all the more beautiful. The tunnels though, are quite scary and are endlessly long, dank and dark. Therefore, it is advisable to carry a torch or have a phone on you if you are courageous enough to enter one.

The spot is also famous for its initiation well, which roughly resembles a tower built underground. You have steps to climb down, and once you get to the bottom, you get an eerie feeling of being inside a well.

Image credit : infomastern/Flickr/CC BY 2.0

Park and National Palace of Pena

The Palace of Pena is probably what got Sintra the title of being the place with the Disney castles. The castle looks like it has been taken out of a fairy tale story book, with colors of yellow, blue and fiery orange plastered on the facade. To reach the castle, you have long winding slope uphill which could be avoided if you take a bus. However, I would advise you to try climbing it if you like walking, since the path is picturesque and very beautiful to traverse through.

Image credit : Glyn Lowe Photoworks/Flickr/CC BY 2.0

The 19th century Moorish influenced castle was the creative genius of King Ferdinand II with the queen helping him with the interior decors, making it a lavish treat to your eyes.

************

And this brings us to the end of the tour of Lisbon. Hope you would enjoy the journey, and I look forward to bringing in new episodes in the near future. Until then, ciao!

[touristguidebuzz]

Attracting American Tourists to Cuba Remains a Tough Sell

Ground staff celebrate JetBlue's first flight to Cuba in August. For many airlines, including JetBlue, new Cuba routes have not been as successful as they had hoped. JetBlue Airways

Skift Take: Americans are not flocking to Cuba, and there's not enough infrastructure on the island to support large-scale tourism. Who could have seen this coming? Probably everyone who was paying attention.

— Brian Sumers

When JetBlue flight 387 took off from Fort Lauderdale, Florida, for Cuba last August 31 — the first commercial flight to the island since 1961 — its vapor trail seemed to write history. A new beachhead in the Antilles for U.S. airlines! A long forbidden destination opened at last for U.S. tourists! Suitcases of dollars for ordinary Cubans catering to the new arrivals!

But hold the mojitos.

One month before spring break, JetBlue became the third U.S. carrier to announce cuts in service to the island. No one is pulling out, but the travel industry’s new mandate is adjusting to the reality beyond the Cuba hype. Pricey cabs, so-so infrastructure, limited internet and scalper-level hotel room rates, which reached $650 last year according to the Economist Intelligent Unit, have put off travelers. As a recent Bloomberg story put it, “Now that Cuba is Open Americans Aren’t Going.”

There’s still plenty of charm in the streets of La Habana Vieja and on all those unblemished beaches that necklace the Caribbean island. But tapping it will depend on the ability of Havana’s floundering regime not just to adapt to the disruptive global economy, but also to write a new narrative that promotes the island’s future as much as its past.

This is not the first time Cuba has tried soft power to rescue the revolution. Fidel Castro warmed to tourism, in part as a lifeline after the Soviet Union collapsed and left the island’s accounts bereft. He talked up the country’s natural beauties and its crime-free streets. Still, he was determined to control not just the levers of the industry but also the behavior of its visitors, abhorring the “tourism of casinos and prostitution.” Instead, the island’s dysfunctional economy beckoned sex tourists, while prostitution and black market dollars offered desperate Cubans a bridge to escape. Talk of tourism was revived as Cuba’s latest underwriter, Venezuela, slid into disarray. Now the normalization of ties with the U.S. (assuming Donald Trump won’t rebuild that wall) has seemingly turbocharged that prospect.

So how will the new Cuba flog its wonders to the world, and can the reform-minded Raul Castro do what his brother could not — leverage the revolution and have it, too? A lot depends on the tourists. For years, Europeans and Canadians flocked to the island for a frugal equatorial getaway, with a dollop of communist realism. Many Latin Americans went in for ideological tourism, pulled by the historical aura of an island nation that played the tropical David to the gringo Goliath. Havana became the dream stop on the lefty Elizabeth Arden circuit and a safehouse for rebels on the lam. Brazil’s Jose Dirceu, the onetime guerrilla fugitive, got his face lifted in Cuba to fool his country’s dictators. (He had less luck under democracy, and is now serving time on multiple charges of political corruption.)

For the moment, pioneering U.S. travelers seem enchanted less by a new venue for spring break than by the allure of a once blacklisted nation with last century’s automobiles and last century’s politics. One of the key attractions of Cuba today is Fidel Castro’s tomb. Visitors in search of that sepia postcard have stoked demand for private guest rooms, giving AirBnb its fastest growing market in 2015. Notwithstanding the recent pullback by U.S. airlines and travel companies, international arrivals surged 14 percent last year, according to the United Nations World Tourism Organization. In a recent Brookings Institution report, Richard Feinberg and Richard Newfarmer project arrivals to rise threefold to 10 million by 2030, as tourism’s share of annual export revenues more than triples to $10 billion.

But tourists also know that Cuba is a brand in transition, and as the legacy of Fidel fades, inevitably so too will the island’s most reliable cachet. “Today, Americans are saying, ‘I’m going to see the place before it changes’. That’s fine, but I don’t know if that will translate into return visits,” Carlos Saladrigas, a Cuban-American executive in human resources who shuttles frequently from Miami to Havana, told me.

Selling the rest of the Americas on Cuba may be just as tricky. Latin Americans once held up Castro’s Cuba as the exemplar of public health care, literacy, poverty-busting and anti-imperialist brio. Now with the region’s “pink tide” of leftists governments in retreat, neighbors in the hemisphere are as likely to see the island regime for the clapped out autocracy it is, where stifled expression trumps socialist encomiums, and Cuba’s vaunted cadre of global physicians is better known as a flying cash machine for foreign reserves. “Cuba always served the Latin American left as a political cave. From the inside, you could ignore the failure of the socialist world,” said Demetrio Magnoli, an international relations scholar at the University of Sao Paulo. “With Cuba’s decline and Fidel’s death, however, all that has changed. Cuba no longer has any geopolitical importance, and if it sank into the Caribbean it wouldn’t make a difference to the global economy,” said Magnoli. “The question now is, can Cuba normalize and still prosper?”

Cuba has plenty of splendors, urban, natural or historical. (The National Museum of Fine Arts in Havana boasts some of the finest works of Spanish colonial and contemporary Cuban art, while the capital is jeweled with stunning architecture like the Hotel Nacional and the Saratoga.) Properly managed, they could be a magnet to world travelers eager for hidden wonders. Enthusiasts even tout Cuba’s potential for medical tourism.

The island’s authorities still appear to be banking mostly on beach-bound big spenders: Only about one in five Cuban hotel rooms and just 13 percent of four- and five-star accommodations are located in the capital, Feinberg and Newfarmer reported. That predilection may trace to Cuba’s lingering siege mindset, by which foreigners were deliberately cocooned in outlying resorts, where presumably they wouldn’t pollute the revolution. Only last decade were Cubans allowed to stay in beach hotels, Feinberg and Newfarmer note.

But if the country wishes to ramp up tourism, it needs to move beyond the identity it built and nurtured during the Cold War. For that the authorities will have to hasten reforms. Though private initiative is growing, funded increasingly by dollar remittances from Cuban expatriates, state controls still weigh on the economy. Keeping two official currencies — the CUP for Cubans, the far more coveted CUC for foreigners — distorts prices, encourages a black market, and crimps trade. Curbs on the internet hamper bookings, and restrictions on foreign capital hold up investment. As for island adventures, “There’s much better food and infrastructure in the Dominican Republic,” Saladrigas said. The risk now is that the country loses the glories of the socialist revolution without attaining those of the capitalist one.

That applies even to cigars. A quarter-century ago when a new glossy called Cigar Aficionado launched its list of the world’s greatest smokes, Cuba won all the big prizes. Now Nicaragua and Honduras make some of the finest smokes, and the top award last year went to the Dominican Republic. “The other countries invested in innovation and caught up,” executive editor David Savona told me. In order to keep the island’s economy from dissipating in the smoke, Cuba will have to do the same.

This column does not necessarily reflect the opinion of the editorial board or Bloomberg LP and its owners.

Mac Margolis writes about Latin America for Bloomberg View. He was a reporter for Newsweek and is the author of “The Last New World: The Conquest of the Amazon Frontier.”

To contact the author of this story: Mac Margolis at mmargolis14@bloomberg.net.

  ©2017 Bloomberg L.P.

This article was written by Mac Margolis from Bloomberg and was legally licensed through the NewsCred publisher network. Please direct all licensing questions to legal@newscred.com.

[beedujourblog]

In my first post, I spoke about staying at Kuta beach, the main area on Bali Island. In this post, I will talk about what there is to discover and experience on this amazing island. During the day we made plans to visit Ubud, do the popular coffee tasting, visit the local textile looms, see the island’s active volcano and eat some local cuisine by the scenic rice paddies.

How to get there

We didn’t make any pre-arrival plans. There are many hole-in-the-wall tourist agencies on the main road and there are various pamphlets at the front and information desks at the hotels. You can simply browse through them and then ask the front desk to arrange a tour on the day. That simple.

We were picked up by a tour guide in a mini bus at the hotel in the early morning to start our trip.

The Textile Looms

We first stopped by traditional Indonesian weavers where they make the traditional fabrics and prints. The looms have been around for centuries, and many of the textiles are used in the final manufacturing factories.

The Concert

After visiting the looms, we got to see a traditional Indonesian concert. The music was provided by live musicians playing an array of traditional instruments from gongs, drums, stringed instruments etc. The story told of various gods partaking in a plot with mortal men and women in the fight for good and evil.

I liked this show and enjoyed the vibrant colours and dance. It was unique and def worth seeing. The show lasts for about 1 hour.

Temples, temples, temples.

We got to visit many temples and enjoy the traditional Indonesian architecture. Traditionally homes are also surrounded by a decorative wall and gate which encloses the home. Before entering the temple, you must wear a traditional sarong which will be available outside the temples. You simply wrap it around your waist before entering.

The design and spaces inside the temples are really beautiful, and all exude peace and tranquillity amidst the little gardens and praying statues. Try and see as many as you can!

Cat poop Coffee

I don’t drink coffee. I’m a tea lover. The visit to the coffee plantation was part of the itinerary and everyone with me loved coffee. It didn’t matter that I’m not a coffee fan, the trip to the plantation was pretty cool. We got to see the wild cat species known as Kop Luwak, a type of indigenous civet that eats the beans. It’s digestive processes apparently makes the coffee bean’s taste more unique and improved. They also had a variety of local teas for tasting!

Rice paddies and local cuisine

Rice is a major staple to Indonesians, and can be found on every menu. In Ubud, we got to see the unique rice paddies in the shapes of steps, browse a local market and then have a light and refreshing Indonesian styled breakfast. Our breakfast was served near the one of the island’s active volcanoes with a waterfall nearby.

We got to have our lunch at the tea and coffee plantations at  nearby pagoda. The lunch was all local dishes and was served on a giant palm tree leaf and served a mix of pork, chicken, beans and spices on rice.

  The Ubud Monkey Forest

I thought this was one of the best parts about the trip. The monkey forest is full of people everywhere. We have lots of monkeys back home on South Africa, but what makes this forest so unique is it’s beautiful natural tropical forest that is entwined amidst 3 sacred Hindu temples. It creates amazing photo opportunities. The Forest also serves as a conservation area that preserves the natural wildlife and its religious dignity.

Beautiful jungle ravines hang among moss grown tone carvings, while little brooks run through it. It was very serene. It’s definitely worth the visit.

Water tube rafting

On our last day, we decided to do something fun and went tube rafting down one of the streams that came from a gushing waterfall. This was pretty cool and really exciting. Our guides and their team were extra nice too, and the overcast rainy weather didn’t affect it at all.

In conclusion

We had no beach days, the weather wasn’t great, but it Bali was still fun. It was a really cool vacation and an amazing place I would visit it again and hopefully the weather Gods will be on my side. The island is beautiful and its nature is stunning. The only thing, as I said before, was the travelling aspect of touring around the island….and that was the crazy traffic. Discovering a bit of local Indonesian culture was definitely the highlight of my trip and something I won’t forget.

Indonesia also has a long history with Southern Africa as many of the islands were under the rule of various European colonies and a lot of trade happened between the country and Southern Africa. Long ago, many of the islands were once referred to as the Malay Peninsulas which was a port for spice, foods and even slavery.  You can also see the small Dutch influence as they also call hand towels “hand doeke”.

Travel Tips

In my last post I said that tourists have to pay a visa fee on arrival, the rules have changed since and apparently South African is now exempt of this fee. Check online.

Don’t worry if it does rain, South East Asia is always hot so you can still enjoy lot’s of outdoor activities.

Should you visit the Monkey Forest, it ideal to keep any food outside of the forest. You can purchase snack for them there. Also, don’t make a noise it’s also a place of prayer.

Safe travels,

Bee

Part 2 on my holiday in #Bali #indonesia! #travel #travelblogger #traveltips #asia In my first post, I spoke about staying at Kuta beach, the main area on Bali Island.