#playing jet pack blues on the last show of the us leg of the tour... patrick did that for me specifically godbless

[castletemprwine]

just like judy

[arabrot]

Who Do You Love by John Doran

Who Do You Love?

We drove 5,000 miles of barbed wire.

You’d think that by travelling that distance around a country you could get the measure of it. Especially if the country was only 361 miles from top to bottom and even less from East to West. You’d be thinking reasonably but not accurately.

Despite journeying the equivalent of one fifth of the circumference of the entire Earth in 31 days, all we got to see was the road itself. England endless. What we experienced was just a percentage of a splodge, a smidge of a blotch on the coastal fringe of Europe that deserved neither the sobriquet Great, nor the title United. How did such a small area of land contain such extravagant lengths of major road? In the same way that a human body could house a tapeworm 33 metres long. Probably not comfortably but hopefully not fatally either. Undoubtedly, in May 2015 - general election month - England had beauty to spare: it’s just that none of it was visible from the motorway.

We met on the forecourt of a petrol station near an airport. Heat haze was already starting to rise from the tarmac. The Driver was dressed immaculately in a tight-fitting black suit, shades and wide-brimmed black hat. His concession to non-monochromatic decoration was silver chains carrying cocks and crosses. He looked like Asa Hawkes, the “blind” preacher from Flannery O’Connor’s Wise Blood - but much thinner. He tipped the brim of his hat hello. This was not his stage hat but his everyday hat. His stage hat, the kind of prairie Stetson featured in the opening scene of Holy Mountain was massive and kept in the kind of box that suggested it was an essential part of a drum kit. It had its own carefully allotted slot in the back of the van with the tons of amplifiers, speaker cabinets, guitars, synthesizers, boxes of books, suitcases full of clothes and bags and bags of oranges we were taking with us. There was only one way to fit all of this stuff into the vehicle, and packing it correctly was like 3-D Tetris. All it took was one giant, impractical hat in the wrong place and then everything had to be taken out again and reloaded in the correct position.

He was the colour of milk, which made the angry red scars up either side of his neck all the more vivid. He looked like the missing link between human being and some future race of Lovecraftian eel-men who would be able to breathe via gills under water.

As well as me and the Driver, there was the Passenger. She looked more like she had stepped straight from the set of Bladerunner than a Jodorowsky or John Huston movie. This was to be their last tour as boyfriend and girlfriend as they were headed straight to a deconsecrated church in rural Sweden to get married as soon as the trip ended. I was merely a temporary guest in their world. A road voyeur with a month long pass.

Within minutes of setting off we hit the M25 we became enmeshed in May Day traffic. I realised that most of the month was going to be spent looking at slow moving traffic on motorways.

But just as driving to Brighton was slow and painful, leaving it the next day was a dream. On the motorway, time stretched and contracted simultaneously in temporal doppler effect. The days seemed longer but time blistered, popped and broke apart pleasantly as the brain switched down a few gears into a near pure experiential mode. There was little to worry about. All I could do was count the pylons and pretend I had a flamethrower to aim at UKIP billboards and hoardings; to luxuriate in motorway sign typography and listen to Maggot Brain as loud as it would go. Miles Davis’ Agharta was the soundtrack to us speeding out of the south up the M1 towards the Rainy City. Al Foster’s ringing, open hi-hat was our fuel. And then it was nothing but John Coltrane, Electric Wizard and NOMEANSNO until we reached our destination. It started raining the second we hit Stoke. And then before long we were on the Mancunian Way heading for Piccadilly in torrential rain, parking the van under a tangle of flyovers. When I planned this jaunt it was a thing of beauty. I took an AA road map and unfolded it until it covered half the floor space in my tiny living room. I took a sheet of stickers from my son’s Thomas The Tank Engine magazine and created a spiral of towns and cities, first round the edges near the coast and then spiraling in toward the centre. Our proposed journey looked like an occult temporal and spatial message only discernable from the god perspective. What I planned was a perfect thing. But after you plan your perfect thing what happens is this: promoters start phoning you up or emailing you. ‘We’ve double booked you with a Stereophonics tribute act’; ‘There’s actually a bar mitzvah on that day’; ‘It’s Record Store Day.’ And then the perfect thing falls to pieces. By the time we hit the road the perfect thing looked like that terrifying film of a spider on LSD trying to spin a web. And there was only one thing worse than a spider on LSD trying to spin a web and that was a spider on caffeine trying to spin a web.

We stopped for several coffees en route to Sunderland the next day. The weather was beautiful. Fields of golden rape seed glowed under a blue sky. But I gave up counting the UKIP billboards. There were just too many. The purple pound signs zipped past in a blur. We’d been on the road for five days and I hadn’t seen a single sign for Labour. It was almost a relief when we passed a huge hoarding in an arable field next to a broken tractor which proclaimed: “Prepare to meet your Lord!” We pulled in soon after to stretch our legs in front of a petrol station that shared a forecourt with a sex shop wrapped in a large tarpaulin hoarding, proclaiming: “Under new management!” Next door was a garden centre flying a row of ten confederate flags and two Union Jacks. There was a knackered and rusty jet stream caravan serving up plastic cups of filter coffee.

It became clear early on that the Travelodge was our friend. Every Travelodge the Driver, the Passenger and I shared was identical. A family room. One double bed, one fold out couch bed, minimal decoration, very interesting mass produced art, scant furniture, tea making facilities and a portable telly, often chained to the wall. The Travelodge may have had less furniture in it than the average bail hostel and may sometimes have smelled like a suburban pet shop from 1984 but it was totally fine as we were low ranking touring musicians and writers, not visiting dignitaries from Saudi Arabia.

After Leeds, our Travelodge was situated in a motorway retail park so the following morning we walked just a few hundred yards to the Toby Carvery for breakfast. Pushing open the double swing doors we were confronted by a man in stained chef’s whites, with hair pushed under a light blue plastic turban crowning a jowly and crimson face. He was methodically and noisily applying a large cleaver to a foot long cylindrical sharpening steel with a schnick-schnick sound.

“Hello!” said the Driver cheerfully. “Are you Toby?”

The chef looked up slowly and a pendulous and translucent bead of sweat swayed under his nose. His eyes were like drill holes in gammon. Bruised udders of flesh were hanging below each of his nicotine-stained ocular orbs. He was possibly the most hungover man I had ever seen. He jawed away silently, his eyes flickering dully with rage as he started straightening up. The BPM of metal on metal increased. The three of us circled round him gingerly and headed rapidly for the breakfast counter past tables rammed full of people who looked like they were about to die. I had never seen so many morbidly obese people in one place at one time. It was like God’s waiting room with unlimited fried egg.

Oh England, you are sick.

It was only £5 per head and you could eat as much as you wanted but the choice was only bacon, sausages, roast potatoes, black pudding, fried egg, fried bread, beans and mushrooms. The thrill of the open road. Unlimited roast potatoes and bacon for breakfast.

(We spent just one night at the supposedly more upmarket Premier Inn, and it was relatively more luxurious but due to its incomprehensible automated reception machine, it took us an hour and a long conversation with two angry Premier Inn employees to gain access to our room. “Getting into this hotel was like the opening scene from a new episode of Black Mirror”, said the Driver, a recent convert to the show. “There’s nothing like waking up in some shitty English town, before eating some shitty English breakfast before driving slowly down some shitty English motorway for 12 hours before loading into some shitty English venue and playing a shitty gig to ten people before going to some shitty Travelodge just to watch a really well made English TV series which explains to you exactly why everything is so fucked”, he told me gleefully.)

Any hotel room was actually very much like home as long as you had a laptop, a handful of Nick Cave CDs, some Right Guard and a copy of Threads on DVD, which happened to be the exact contents of my overnight hotel bag.

Waking up in another identical Travelodge on another identical Motorway retail park the next day I realised finally that this was literally the worst place for a writer to be during general election month. Nowhere had wifi that worked. It was like being in a bubble of ignorance for 31 days. We had to choose these parks to minimise the chances of the splitter van getting stolen with all of our gear inside it. Every Travelodge we stayed in was essentially the same, surrounded by a handful of other outlets - a Toby Carvery or a Harvester or, if you were really unlucky, both of them. Then maybe also a Costa, a Boots and an Esso petrol station as well. They were all accessible from a motorway roundabout that wasn’t really near anything other than either an airport, a prison or an industrial estate. A vague hangover from reading JG Ballard as a schoolboy led me to believe that there would be some kind of mind-expanding nourishment to be had from this aspect of the venture but these motorway retail parks were all identical. They were the most co-opted and least free spaces of all.

After breakfast, outside, sitting on a wall drinking a cup of tea in the sunshine, I looked intently at a semicircle of rooks surrounding a single bird of their own kind. They were slowly advancing in toward it. The bird in the middle was stock still and not moving. It didn’t look like a friendly encounter. The Driver and the Passenger came out and joined me. The parliament were just about to attack the accused in order to peck it to death but just as the corvine jury bore down, they were disturbed by a loud noise from above. The Red Arrows flew over the Travelodge in formation causing them to scatter  It felt almost as if the Driver existed in a bubble of weird, uncanny, apocalyptic and esoteric events that moved with him wherever he roved. But it was also as if he barely noticed any of them. I stood pointing at the sky.

“Yes, yes” he snapped irritably as if he was sick of seeing this kind of thing. “Let’s get in the van and get off otherwise we won’t get to Digbeth in time.”

That night I dreamt that the solid iron core of the Earth was about to slough us all off until the planet stood raw and bleeding in space, just roiling magma with no skin to contain it. The utter indignity of being born between waves, the scions of a pusillanimous age we were all about to be cast into the void with the filthy scab of a country we called England. A flat and unmagical land. A depressing and tawdry place. When I opened my eyes Toby was stood in the corner of the room, sharpening his cleaver, schnick, schnick, schnick, schnick. Empty eye sockets carved out of rancid, fly-blown gammon.  

“We have to stop eating lunch at the Harvester!” I sprang out of my fold out bed and shouted at the Driver and the Passenger, waking them from their sleep. “The full rack of ribs is fucking killing me!”

Fuck the Harvester. Fuck Toby Carvery. All of the clothes that were hanging off me on May 1 were now snug and it was only May 12. My ears were ringing with the premonition of some future blue cheese dressing related pulmonary event.

It was easy to see how ruinous life on the road could be, even when you didn’t drink or do drugs. I felt sorry for younger bands who felt they had to go out partying every night after shows. After a couple of weeks it must end up hellish.

The road to Hull was paved with UKIP signs. Only Necrosis by Cadaver played at ear disrespecting volumes kept us sane. It was dark as we drove into town and ghosts lined Ferensway waiting to greet me. The cinema where I’d had my first date in town, the pair of us just turned 18 - watching Shirley Valentine no less, saying, “Imagine being that old” about Pauline Collins and Bernard Hill - was now a bingo hall. The war memorial that I regularly drank sherry in front of on a bench. The Welly nightclub where I saw a punter swan dive off a balcony and go headfirst through the corner of a formica table. When they took him out on a stretcher there was a blanket pulled up over his face. And then down past my old house on De Grey Street and into the car park of the Adelphi. And then the ghosts waved us back out of town.

The drive to Great Yarmouth was gruelling and 13-hours long because of traffic - we got stuck behind no less than three serious road accidents. Bodies strewn across baking tarmac. Bloodied travellers weeping in incomprehension at the hard shoulder. Slow moving the traffic might have been but at least we had plenty of long albums to listen to. Just like a mattress in a shared student house or the narrative flow of the Bayeux Tapestry - Kendrick Lamar’s To Pimp A Butterfly sagged in the middle but it was very, very long, making it ideal for the van.

Eight hours later, after the show, we flew down the A47 unimpeded like we were clinging to a rocket, listening to Slayer albums sequentially at full volume, gabbling like a bunch of four-year-olds as we went. By the last day, I felt like I was about to die and constantly on the verge of tears. I didn’t want it to end. It was the best of times. It was the worst of times. It was the worst of times. It was genuinely the worst of all times. And yet I’d crawl over broken glass to be able to do it all again right now.

You know, if you really want to get the measure of a country don’t drive round it. Take a train or walk. Maybe buy a bicycle or a skateboard or something.

We drove 5,000 miles of barbed wire and parked the splitter van by the roadside.

John Doran, Bangkok, Thailand, December 2017

[fortheheavenssake]

MM Anon 4

MM Anon 4

Nov. 1

MM ANON … She Telegraphed it !!…… mechanically damaged 🤣🤣🤣……… rugby widow😭😭😭……alone on the Balcolonial …… “ Turn around re-play”…… wading through the Slush…… an American Psycho…… PR-int error ………🎼”God only knows “🎼…… 🧣🐓👯‍♀️🤔😭🤥……🎼”Wake up ,little ……… wake up“🎼…… “ I may wear purple Philip “…… “epic old thing ‘ that’ll p!$$ her orf “…… “hair of the DOG Harry”🤣🤣🤣”lets PARTY”……… 15-9 ……… “OK , give me £500”. …… $h!t, I’ve lost my phone!!……” OMG’ all those photos on it!!”

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Nov. 1

MM ANON …… NUTMEG not sanctioned by the BRF on visit to the bakery,all a SS stunt to get an interview with the Tele- laugh. Her woke ramblings ‘ a tossed salad of word salad … me ,me ,me me look at me , “because we’re all women right!! and I’m going to empower you all to become inspired by your own emotional strength,we’re cool sisters of the oppressed forces that the monarchy controls …… yeahhh ‘ right on and solid.”

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Nov. 1

MM ANON, Why is Trampmeg trapped in a bakery with the sisters of Perpetual retribution spreading her bacteria all over the sweeties…… simple!!! She’s $h!t scared of being Booooooood !! If she had a public outing with the great unwashed there’d be booing and a knashing of teeth. That’s why the the colonial carpetbagger stays hidden from the public. If its appearance on the balcony at RD. is anything, I bet someone gives her the old verbal finger

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Nov. 2

MM ANON , DEAR SWEET JESUS, The Sus-sex saga is really,REALLY dragging on , the anticipation of a drama at RD, the escape to LA, the archificial debacle, the suspect charity slush funds, it just piles on day after day of PR lies and nutmeg hand wringing, whinging and virtuous lectures to the great unwashed. Hiding in Bakery’s and WC kitchens isn’t facing the public ( boooooooo!!! ) this colonial carpetbagger is on the run from the Brits who see through her bull$h!t and mendacity. 🤥🤥🤥

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Nov. 2

MM ANON … “ You are part of this monarchy, you WILL adhere to its traditions”…… “ her past, so embarrassing!!”…… Rogue PR…… “we’ve “cleaned” her phone ma’am”…… “ I fear it’s still out there”…… promoting the impossible …… “ give this one to William” “ thank goodness we have one classic beauty,old thing “ …… “ is Charles thinking of leap-frogging to William ,Philip?”……” my teams made arrangements “…… “shut up!! It’s my Duty!!”…… 🎼” to dream the impossible dream “🎼……”total meltdown sweetie”

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Nov 3

MM ANON … ‘ and in the morning, we shall Booo!!!……… Mall-content. …… camera click ‘ I’m OK!!…… “ sit Harry with Melania??”………… a reduced detachment …… “ it’s in the Fine print M’lud”…… “ what!! a night of fruity duty” …… “6 of the 13 are solid!! “…… “ leapfrogging, not a chance old thing” …… “ the right order of things Philip” ……… “ my apologies for the interruption Ma’am”…… “ One should act post-haste”…… “ and keep Harry out of this”. ……… O’ Kate, I hear she got quite scwiffy Philip”.

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Nov 3

MM ANON … occasionally one exposes an anomaly within the mainstream collective , I’m not talking about the proud hard working women of America, I’m describing the grifting harsluts who screw their way up the social dung heap that is the domain of institutions of suspect provenance. This specific specimen grift, escort , yacht, sexually ingratiate blow , and manipulate their way into positions of kept high maintenance. Who the hell could that be?… O’her!!!

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Nov 4

MM ANON,…… THE ACTUAL REALITY!! The evidence appertaining to nutmegs missing years, The exodus to Madrid for a “ procedure” after leaving the American embassy in BA “ she apparently had an affair with a junior attaché. Then it vanished into the very private and murky world of yachting escorting, often mentioned in her SM posts as auditions for film appearances. 🤣🤣🤣 a clandestine history of sordid consequences that led to an embarrassing entrapment of himself, an archificial birth and lies.

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Nov 4

MM ANON …… RD,will she ‘won’t she?…… a Congressional offer…… The foundations support …… 🎼” don’t stop thinking about tomorrow”🎼………a bit LAX of her…… W&Ks PR assault …“ the popularity of the children your Highness”……” Popular!! we call it “Charlottes Web 🤣🤣”……” it’s the future direction ma’am”…… “she imploded ma’am ,end of!! “…… “ Christmas!! A family portrait ma’am , only the family “…… “ it’s exciting Philip ‘ a new chapter “…… “any cream caramel left old thing”. … tut tut,dyspepsia Philip”

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Nov 5

MM ANON …… A prospective congressional candidate ……caLiforniA voting …… bankrolled by Bubba…… 🎼” ain’t nobody Straight in LA”🎼…… Nov.14th , liftoff !! …… “ don’t come back, general consensus ma’am”. //… “ William’ you’ll love the break darling “…… “ 🦄can I come daddy, pleeeeeez!!”…… “bring me back a 🦎”…… “ Well, rather you than me squidgy” …… “ I’m reading these balcony jokes old thing” ……” 🤣🤣 Philip, look at this one ‘ wicked!!”… “make it there problem, it’s her decision “ … “Ad Nauseam.

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Nov 5

#FREECAMILLA……… the hashtag is emblematic of the impossible situation that the DOC has to endure on the 7th. Camilla is scheduled to pay her respects at the field of remembrance at Westminster Abbey following the D&DOS. nutmeg is an appendage regarding TBRF , she turns up all PR and no knickers, poster 42 year old for middle age yachters. How long is it going to soil the institutions of dignity. If you’re not OK and WOUNDED, go back into hiding. #FREECAMILLA. allegedly, speculation of course.

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Nov 6

MM ANON, KATES TAGLIATELLE NAPOLITANA. … cook tagliatelle till al dente, Toss in a little truffle olive oil. Napolitana sauce, … cook ground beef( 300grams) in pan with finely sliced garlic and shallots. Season. Add superior tomato sauce ( Italian). Cook for 10 minutes. Pour over tagliatelle that’s in a oval oven dish. Cover with parmigiana reggiano , medium heat for 12 minutes in oven,Serve hot with a glass of good Chianti. Happy Harry guaranteed. NB. This is Kate’s own recipe.

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Nov 6

MM ANON, As soon as the last notes of the RD parade fade nutmeg will hot foot it to Northolt to catch her private jet to LA. She’s all packed and ready to flee the country she hates , the “Wounded” snowflake who’s not “OK” won’t stay a second longer in soho house. Harry can start his re-hab from the insidious co-dependency he’s fallen into, and W&K can visit him and coach his return to royal normality, having eaten to many chicken dinners he can relish Kate’s Tagliatelle Napolitana, GSTQAOBC.

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Nov 6

MM ANON ………” the pest is fleeing the rented nest” SO-HO HO HO !!!………”🎼” don’t give me that do goody good bullshit”🎼…… I’ll catch him , you talk him round” …… “ don’t be naive, it’ll be longer than 6weeks.”……… “I’ve got a cunning plan”………… Mmmm’ money but NOT title!!…… “ the Privy Purse won’t finance that”. …… “ I’ll have a chat with the LCJ, ol’ Netty will fix it.”…… “ done and dusted darling”. …… 🎼” we’ve already said “ so long”🎼………🎼” With a Little help from my friends”🎼. Amen!!

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Nov 7

MM ANON, THE D&DOC , met family’s and school children today at St. Martin in the Fields. The epitome of royal class. Kate stunning in royal blue dress. Equate this with the sloppy belted afterthought nutmeg wore? A poodle weave, ill fitting navy blue ( not a respectable black) couch throw. Harry dignified in regimental frock coat. Once again she denigrates a solemn occasion with her smug indifference to protocol and traditions. People were laughing contemptuously at her. GET RID !!!

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Nov 7

MM ANON …… Royal blue class…… navy blue @ss……… royal winning ……… smug grinning …… “ a quiet word in your shell-like Harry, she embarrassed you”…… “Sunday night ma’am, alone!!”…… Royal Trinity …… 🎼” leaving on a jet plane , don’t know “🎼……… “Exeter airport, not far from Babington ma’am”……”What!! a brotherly tour LG?”…… SANDRINGHAM sand pit…”one disaster at a time,old thing”……” Melania has royal discretion Philip”…… “ God knows Philip, money?”…… “whatever’ but not in bloody black and white “

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Nov 7

MM ANON , WELL WHAT’I,TELL YA, congressional representative for a district of L.A. , if my little birdies are chirping the same song ,the appointed one is going to run , and it won’t be South Central, some nice residential upmarket suburb , 60% coloured. The Gang of Four will offer their endorsement and Nancy with the laughing face will put the cherry on top. 2020 cometh. She won’t come back. And Harry will become mr. Megan Markle, unless of course’…………………

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Nov 9

MM ANON … beyond the bathrobe… hit the spot(not)…… never on a Sunday …… 🎼Sun-day my Prince will come🎼…LA Confidential …… morning TV. …… The Late shows …… “And now a surprise guest ‘Princess Megan and Prince Archie”…… “And now a word from her sponsor”…… A Meg-a endorsement … “you can have my jet”…… please!! a little decorum”…… Who’me!!

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Nov 9

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Nov 10

MM ANON, SO …… “ Don’t stand with us, Don’t sit with us , we don’t require your company or conversation , just f***off back to California and re-connect with your vacuous valley girls who can only talk of their therapists,and being f**** by their personal trainers”. “ What say you Camilla”… “ I totally agree ma’am”. Alleged royal drawing room conversation between HMTQ,DOC,D&DOS. 🤭🤭🤭🤭🤣🤣🤣🤣

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Nov 10

MM ANON, So , megherp wears an inverted piss-pot on her head , another FU protocol, while outcasted to the Siberian balcony, I wonder what the conversation was inside the rooms of the foreign Office while she was waiting with Harry. M.” Look at that stuck up bitch Kate,talking to the Queen” K. “ well’ Megan looks very average again, naked legs I see, Mmm,ever-ready Rachel suits her”. H. “What time is your plane leaving “. M. “ as soon as I can f*** off from you lot”. Allegedly, speculation only.

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Nov 10

MM ANON …… game,set and lies…… “ that royal DR conversation actually took place “……… game, set And Siberia …… William isn’t enamoured …… “Bare legs, ever ready Rachel “🤣🤣🤣🤣………”So-Ho hook-up?? really”……… “the RPO HAS to keep quiet!!! …… “ a scandal to far old thing “…… “ pray it stays!!”…… “extra protection , NO , let her pay!!”……… “ her little friends ‘ it’s a called a sleepover William “ …… “Yes,Edward and Sophie “…… “wheels up ma’am ,… thank god LG”

Thank you MM Anon…😊❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

This is not written by Skippy!😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

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Nov 10

MM ANON ……… “ for the attention of the intellectually challenged trolls, I write my own riddles and submit them to skippy. “ but then again, that’s the reason you’re all intellectually challenged. 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 one thing trolls have in spades, contempt prior to investigation ……… many thanks skippy.

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Nov 11

MM ANON …… “H’ phone Oprah , NOW!!…… “ we’ll stay with SW for a while”…… “ my mother’s already here”. ……… “ Lottie’ tell your little friends to stop jumping on the bed.” …… BREAKFAST!!…… “ OK’ who’s for sticky maple syrup and waffles?”…… Charlotte!!!! behave. …… “ We’re outnumbered George!!”……”NANNY HELP!, …… “Wait and see,ma’am, wait and see!!”…… “yes, my friends in the service!!”… The banquet would be a good time. ……Embroil him in duties to his regiment ……’seven for a secret never to be told.

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Nov 11: MM anon?

Dear skippy, I do believe I’m being logged and monitoring by TPTB. Also my dear friend ALLEGEDLY ANON. every word I write, they’ll be watching me. ……… MM ANON. They’ve already got to me very surreptitiously. Please post this ,the more anons know the better. Kind regards.

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Nov 11

MM ANON… … Delayed flight 14th Nov.

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Nov 13

MM ANON ……… 🎼” let the Sunshine”🎼…… who pulled the short straw?……… palm trees at Sandringham …… “ pass the Dorito’s darling “……… Sophie’s surprise ……“ I love the belt sweetie”. … Preg-nont…… “ I love the belt sweetie” ……… “yes , smile and serve them gru-el”…… Christmas?” Musical chairs old thing” ……… more of a 12 by 6 ……… small expectations …… Kate’s red carpet …… “ bet she goes for the lovers knot.” …… Hobson choice.

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Nov 14

MM ANON …… MAD-ISON AV. Re-Sunshine Sucks…… a tabloid too far…… LA thanksgiving? …… homeless shelter thanksgiving?……Royal Family thanksgiving?…… professional lie juggler …… $h!t scared of loosing tax millions …… HMTQ drops in 🤣🤣🤣🤣…… MM drops out…… “ it’s not rocket science Harry dear boy, she’s a s****!!…… “ but I love her” … “Really!!, sit down and watch this” …… “ now!! convinced!!”…… “ ones judgment is sometimes compromised Harry” …… “ But, But ,But …… “No ifs, no Butts. … just act royal

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Nov 14

MM ANON ………… surreptitiously, “lift off”. …… who dares,bins…… 🎄it’s a wonderful strife🎄…… failure is not a-doption……Interstellar McCartney………me invito tactiost…… an act of con-passion…… “ therapy, the humanitarian solution Harry”. …… “serious emotional and mental disorders” …… it’s not her fault, she seems to have been born that way” ……… “ yes!! Section 8. … “ it’s your call!! “

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Nov 15

MM ANON, WTF !!! there’s a record of conversations and confidences A DIARY!! really,REALLY !! This is a potential IED … regarding a tome of disastrous consequences for HMTQ and the Royal Family. Whispers about said Tome have been fluttering around royal circles for over a year. If ‘ IF , someone had a resentment or grievance against the RF and one had recorded all in a “Diary” the publication would be of universal interest. ( $20 million advance) at least. Her future secured!! just sayin !!

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Nov 15

MM ANON, coercion is a crime. Blackmail is a crime, so why is nutmeg bleeting on about empowerment and mindfulness 🤮🤮🤮 while the biggest criminal manipulation against a monarch and her family was undertaken with her at the Center. This grifter used and abused a naive recipient into a marriage and turned him into a co-dependent with emotional and character changing traits. BLACKMAIL IS A CRIME!! Tick TOCK.

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Nov 15

MM ANON, EXPLOITATION!!! Stella(money) McCartney pays East Hungarian women £2.6 an hour ……… and say it takes a worker 5 hours to complete a coat / say materials cost £50.00 + labour £15.00 … so £65.00 for a coat retailing at £1.545.00……… quite a mark up a Stella’ old woke , humanitarian nutmeg buys your extortionate rag without any bleeting of exploitation of Hungarian women ……… Mmmm not to Woke nutmeg. HYPOCRISY!!

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Nov 15

MM anon .......... “wash spin repeat”......... no hole barred🤣🤣🤣......... reflect,deflect,infect...... DM is armed and dangerous...... court jester 🎭......... the light is Fading...... nice hypocrisy you’re wearing...... hunger-Ian...... GCHQ on the QT......... I’m not a row boat...... “they will unleash the dossier from hell”...... complete disclosure......... in case of emergency, pull handle. ...... sorry you’re out of time......... 🎼 …”rescue me”…🎼.

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Nov 15

MM ANON ……Ventura Highway …… “ yes, let’s go!!”…… GCHQ, on the QT…… W knows EVERYTHING!!…… PR pops in”🤣🤣……… “ one pops in , Philip”…… archificial pops out, when?……… “ bit of a soft interview “…… tighten security, NOW!!…… “ this ones out the bag , old thing”…… “ I’m looking forward to it Philip, all the little ones”…… “yes , one is a tad hurt”…… A good appointment.…… “ right up Her street”. …… 🎼give yourself a very🎄merry Christmas🎼…… “ Little ones?the service is too long,Philip”.

This is the one I thought I deleted….I deleted the copy not the original…..forward we go….😊❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

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Nov 16

MM ANON/ ALLEGEDLY ANON/NANNY ANON/0 YEA,O YEA ANON/ HOLD UP, HOLD UP ANON/ LIFT OFF ANON ……………………………BYE BYE.

Because I won’t post tirades against PA….they have chosen to leave. I thought keeping PA separate from riddles was the right thing to do. It seems that was not what they expected from me. I am on the side of truth, I’m not burying PA stuff, I just don’t believe there is enough info for me to support their thoughts. I’m not here to expose PA…I am here to expose MM…and PA is a distraction. Sorry.

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Nov 18

MM ANON ……”too many eyes, it has to be privejet “…… SS , travel agent ……” NO more interviews “ ……” I’ll, give her away!!” …… 🎼”they had style,and well read,MM gave good head,vogue “🎼……… Aotearoa…… DM litigate big guns…… Subpoena demeanour ……… “ocean view,or the hills princess?”…… “ ones posterior is sore” …… “ I warned you old thing”…… “ Bugger them, tomorrow’s chip paper!!”……… “ I want a monkeeeeey!!🦄🐒

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Big 18

MM ANON , MANY BLESSINGS AND SALUTATIONS FOR THE SKIPPY GANG ……… (my bad!! ) …… ONWARDS TOWARDS THE JUDICIAL INCARCERATION OF MADAM. Please dear sweet Jesus let the righteous triumph over the darkness that she’s bestowed on TBRF. 

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Nov 19

MM ANON … Sharon concern about Forth Bridge …… operation updates …… charitable uncoupling …… LG takes a grip?…… GM on the QT with Harley St. ……

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Nov 19

MM ANON ………GM consults Chobanian…… Sharon,concerns about Forth Bridge. …… Charitable uncoupling ……… a worried sausage …… LG ‘quite confidence …… cogs oiled and ready …… Dark clouds over ninety mile beach …… “it’s a runaway train old boy”…… “PRUNING , autumn or Spring?”……” I’m only the messenger!!”……… W&K ,royalty personified …… “weathering the shower, it’s not a storm old boy”……

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Nov 19

MM ANON , Re-lesser anon, There is a principle which is a bar against all information, which is proof against all arguments and which cannot fail to keep a man in everlasting ignorance … that principle is contempt prior to investigation. Just sayin’ 🤣🤣🤣

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Nov 20

MM ANON ……… LVH, she’s vanished” ……… BC , Arkan-SIDED……… 🎼” another one bites the dust “ 🎼………”the notebooks are no longer available”……”ones concerned and caring”…… Sandringham sanctuary …… Amazingly stoic “bloody fuss, piss off”……… W&Ks Support is continuous ……… C&C on recall?……” He had a multitude of secrets” …… warden patsy’s……All the ex-Presidents woM.E.N.…… “OMG,not another lift off?”

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Nov 20

VERY HAPPY 72nd WEDDING ANNIVERSARY 🍸🍸👑👑🍮🍮🎊🎉💞💞

Yes…A Very Happy Anniversary!🙏🏻❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

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Nov 20

MM ANON, ……… NOW EVERYONE CAN RETURN TO WHAT REALLY MATTERS ………… THE INCARNATION AND JUDICIAL CONCLUSION TO THE HIGH CRIMES AND MISDEMEANOURS OF THE COLONIAL CARPETBAGGER. 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

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Nov 20

MM ANON … THIS BLOG IS NOT PRO-PEDOPHILIA. PERIOD.

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Nov 21

MM ANON …… Hey’ RF!! I’m still not OK…… Daughters dilemma …… FBI delivers legal documents …… canary’s calling …… wittiness projection …… Max-well-on-Her-way-farer…… southern district documents verified …… Kuwaiti waity …… Lottie lustre camera caper…… DOC photo exhibition imminent …… “ I have a request”…… request denied !!…… USA demands archificial …… Northern flights.

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Nov 21

MM ANON ……💜💜💜💜💜. To all anons. I appreciate all submissions on the riddles, all are brilliant interpretations of words and meanings. BRAVA TO ALL !! …… PG is one of our much loved deciphering anons , so on a spiritual level we pray for dear PG. prayers and positive energy for our dear much loved friend. 💜💜💜💜💜💜 prayers for Mr skippy and PG. 💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜❤️❤️❤️❤️💜💜💜💜

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Nov 22

For PG

MM ANON 💜💜💜💜💜💜💜WELCOME BACK PG💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜it’s good to have you back. 💜💜

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Nov 22

MM ANON, O’SKIPPY, the angel who opened a dog hospice, ……… I CRIED , I REALLY CRIED 😢😢 how wonderful, what thoughtfulness and humility a real HUMANITARIAN!!! Hey nutmeg, how about donating a dress price to this canine saint. GOD BLESS YOUR IMMORTAL SOUL 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

It really is something…earth angels are with us to restore faith in humanity, we are seeing more earth angels now as the world is dark we are learning. Thank you God for giving us these amazing stories and anons who bring them.🙏🏻❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

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Nov 22

MM ANON, Dear skippy i posted riddle earlier today 🤣💜💜💜. 🎼🎼🎼🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧🎼🎼🎼

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Nov 22

MM ANON …a cuppa and a trot…… “ no damage darling”…… “W&K will pick up the slack”…… “ let’s go visit the old bugger”…… A Christmas PR push…… “ she has to show archificial “……… Harry and Sandringham??……… “ for goodness sake,nanny had the night off” ……… “it’s a wonderful Christmas card darling”………… will boss baby go viral??………Mmm , Little punk Prince!

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Nov 23

MM ANON …… “ it’s not Andrew it’s Meeeee!!”…… “suits is a positive act”🤣🤣……… “ life is like a box of chocolates”…… “Doritos here”……… “I’ll cook a turkey dinner”…… Charles Champion……… “ we’ll have to, in the speech??”…… media vita in Monte sumus…… “something borrowed ,someone’s blue”…… “Christmas’Blue Water,Lottie,”…… “Unicorrrrrns”🦄🦄……… “strictly Party Nanny 🥳”……… “ bit of week old thing, hugs!!”…… “ and a large sherry”……… “ a large malt”

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Nov 24

ALLEGEDLY/ MM / NANNY/…… ALL THE GANG. ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️🎼🎼🎼🎼❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️💜💜🙏🏻HAPPY BIRTHDAY SKIPPY HAVE A WONDERFUL DAY.

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Nov 24

MM ANON …… a homecoming hiatus …… Top of the Pops👑👑…… “ And when they were only half way up”……… “ it’s going to be a PA tabloid tsunami”…… 🎼”potato,patarto, lets call the whole thing off”🎼……… “just take the bloody photo”……… “a horrified positive Pratt”…… 🎼” iiiiim’putin on my top hat”🎼……… Kate’ “I do everything he dose, only backwards and in six inch heels, and with three children”…… “ I trust in William old thing”…… “Sir!! focus,a century is demanded!”…………… 🎼”pictures of Lily”🎼

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Nov 25

MM ANON ………lay a place for Vlad?…… lovers knot hiding …… Kate ,Melania & Ivanka shine …… nutmeg crashes posh-nosh?…… “ it’s just impeachy’Donald” ……… “ no chance Ma’am”……… “Hows the Dook?”…… “a special Yuletide for a million reasons ,ma’am”…… legalities,Banalities,Calamities …… “2020, I’m an optimist Christopher”…… “less is more, ma’am”

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Nov 26

MM ANON … “ it’s a Mozzi bite …… wed-ding-a-ling …… “my advice ‘ have it in Italy”’…… “ She’s crippled with shame”……… “I saw her with archificial yesterday in Waitrose,“ …… “from Windsor to Winnipeg”. ……… Andy, Charles and Clarence ,……”thanksgiving ‘ darling she went back to LA”…… “ but ,but, but the SOOOOOOPKITCHEN!!! “…… spin ,grin and a bottle of gin…… 🎼”I’m dreaming of a ( WOC) Christmas “🎼……… “Sandringham old thing, fuck the election”. …… “ ones duty first Philip”……… “ don’t mention him”

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*** Nov 27. Answer

MM ANON, DEAR ANONS, TO BE HONEST, I didn’t even know where Winnipeg was!! I was speculating where nutmeg was going to end up at Christmas? I now know that I’ve upset the whole pop. of Winnipeg……… SO SORRY ! Sorry PG. 💜💜💜💜💜

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Nov 27

MM ANON … Archificial carves the Turkey …… Megan BURNS the gravy……Frogmore or LESS… ” Harry PULLS a CRACKER”… Dorito’ where is Dorito??…… An-drew the short straw… Con-sort it out Charles … swimmingly!!🦄🦎 …… “ the general public would lap it up your Highness” …… “ little stars”……… 🎼four and twenty Black-Birds🎼…… “Frozen film party at KP”…… “Darling I’ll cook, how many?”…… “14, no problem!!”…… “a ten pounder”…… “Kate’s cooking old thing”…… “another drink Philip?”… “wait till Christmas Eve !!”

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Nov 28

MM ANON ……… pencil thin 👀…… 👧👦🏼👶🎡🎢🎠……… maple, leaf it alone ……… 🛩who knows?……… “one has responsibilities Charles”……… “ six weeks’ and they can’t show the bloody baby.”…… “flown out , bloody good job!!”……… send up the menu!! …… very secure ma’am!! ……… all those SS chappies…… “ I hear she’s quiet the English Rose” ……… “ if only!!”……… “good stock, don’t cha’ know”…… DEEP and CRISP and IVAN…… He’ll stop their extravagant travel. ……… “ charades ,old thing”. …” pass the parcel,Philip!!”

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Nov 29

MM ANON …… 🎼 build it up with wood and clay🎼 ……… a crown script …… Harry’s rapid response …… the wrong side of the tunnel ……… “give time,time old boy”……… “ if it was Good enough for HM”……… tagged ,bad, and dangerous to know ……… look ,listen and learn ……… black fry-day……”nowhere as secluded as Sandringham”……… “she’s a beauty mate, breath of fresh air”

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Nov 30

MM ANON ……… “Darling’ please pass the Wrinkle cream” ………”she’s on this blog I read”💜……… “ we’ve been invited to the Boxing Day shoot” …… WoW ‘ that’s a beautiful photo Kate …… “he’s to young ‘ good grief William!!”…… ‘This cobra has no fangs ……… “The service, maybe bring C&G.” ……… “ The spring diary ma’am’ was thinking they could do The America’s and Canada” ……… “ the Children too”…… “what say you Philip?” …… “indubitable , old thing” …… “ Settled!!”……” Sidney’ more refreshments”

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Dec 1

MM ANON, I’m watching series 1 of the crown, BRILLIANTLY WRITTEN AND EDITED. The filming is so accurate and attention to detail. I remember Norman Hartnell designing the Queens wardrobe for the commonwealth tour. My mother was a dress-maker so I watched everything she watched. Methinks the Queen had something to do with this because it’s so accurate. Reason, she’s 92 ‘ what a visual legacy. I can imagine her throwing a ashtray at Philip, and HIS secret dalliances. EPIC!!

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[kellyzeagman]

Hello from the cruise ship in Singapore!!

What a crazy last few days. I guess I should back track a little bit, even though it might be a little hard because everything has been such a blur. Firstly, the airport in Toronto. Definitely extremely hard to leave. The entire time I was there with my parents I felt like I was having an our of body experience and watching myself from the outside. I  had never felt so uneasy about something in my life. Obviously I was so excited to start this new chapter but my nerves definitely took over. I have never lived more than 20 minutes from home, nor have I ever spent more than a month away from friends and family. So, getting on a plane to live on the other side of the world for 5 months was extremely terrifying. I tried my best at not acting like it, but I was definitely feeling it. After I said goodbye to my parents and got through security, pretty much the only thing going through my head for the next hour before getting on the plane was “what the F*** am I doing”. It was 100% the most overwhelming moment i’ve ever experienced. Once it took off, there was obviously no turning back, which changed the game and I had to sit in this new reality for the next 20 hours of travelling. I was doing this whether I liked it or not. I liked the idea of what was about to happen, but wasn’t too fond of leaving. The plane ride to Hong Kong was 15 hours. It was also such a blur. I honestly don’t know how I made time pass by myself. I felt super lucky because I was able to pick an aisle seat online but once I got on the plane, I found out it was right beside the bathroom. I could quite literally lift up my left arm and touch the door. People opened and closed that door for 15 hours straight. I wondered why this aisle seat hadn’t been taken, but now I do :D.  But hey, at least I could stick my legs out and always have my own arm rest. I probably only slept for a combined 3 hours, so I don’t know how the other 11 seemed to go by decently quick. Watched a few movies, listened to some podcasts and basically pondered what the hell I was doing and why I was doing it. There were quite a few young children on the plane and a decent amount of crying (bless ear plugs). However, they made up for it because TRULY, there is nothing like a little toddler walking up and down the aisles of a plane to bring everyones mood up and provide a little bit of entertainment and give everyone the feels. Finally, we landed in Hong Kong and I had one hour till my next 4 hour flight to Singapore. I was able to lay down on the sexy airport carpet for a bit and then quickly got on my next flight. I was beyond exhausted and wanted to just pass out as soon as we took off. It wasn’t a busy plane, so there were quite a few empty rows. Part of me didn’t want to be annoying or a bother and lay down across the seats when no one else was, but thank god I did. I would’ve punched myself in the face if I decided to not because it was so worth it and I will never see those people again. Passed out across 4 seats until we landed. Amazing. We landed in Singapore at about 6:30pm. I wanted to store my bags so that I could explore a bit of the INSANE airport. While struggling to carry my 3 heavy luggage items to storage, I managed to completely destroy the “pull up” handle on my suitcase.  The handle literally cracked off and snapped out from how heavy my bag was. If I went to pull my suitcase, the handle would completely come out and the suitcase would drop to the floor and I would have a piece of metal with two prongs in my hand. I now have to pull that suitcase using the tiny little leather handle. It is truly horrible and I can’t wait to never touch the suitcase again until March. Anyways, I wanted to go see “The Jewel” at the airport. I’m planning on posting a picture of it at the end of this, but if it doesn’t work, google it because it is crazy. I went there for 7:30 because there was a light show. The Singapore airport is like a different planet. Everything is so futuristic and obviously very expensive. Very much similar to “Crazy Rich Asians”. The Jewel is basically a mall with stores and restaurants, but the middle has been made into an enormous waterfall that falls from the ceiling and the entire space around it has been made into a jungle/forest. I can’t really think of how else to explain it. I was a little bit sad watching the light show and exploring the airport by myself, because everywhere I looked around people were with friends and family and then there was just me by myself. ~Maybe I developed some personal growth~ Anyways, if you’re ever in Singapore- go to the Jewel!! Definitely worth it to go see, and free. I then lugged myself and my broken ass suitcase to catch a taxi to go to the hotel. When I checked in, the guy was like “your roommate has already arrived” I was so confused because  I obviously thought I would have the room to myself and was ready to just pass out. Luckily, my roommate also happened to be a youth staff and was starting her 5th contract. I ended up staying up longer than I wanted because I asked her about 100 questions. It was such a relief to get to chat to her about the job and what cruise life is like.  And so great that my first friend I made was going to be someone I would be working with. If I had been alone in that hotel room that night I feel like my head would have exploded, so I’m so glad it worked out the way it did. We went to bed at 10:00 and I totally thought I would pass right out until our alarms went off, but i’m silly and have never experienced jet lag before. So basically I think I only slept for 3 hours and just tossed and turned and panicked the rest of the night. When we waited for our shuttle the next morning to take us to the cruise ship there were two other new hire youth staff members waiting outside. This is also their first time working on a cruise ship, which was definitely comforting. I feel like everything just played out perfectly that night and morning which made everything much, much easier. The shuttle to the cruise was about an hour drive, so we got to see some of what Singapore has to offer. Super clean, lots of buildings, seems very rich.

The boat I am working on is currently in a “dry dock” where it is getting a 150 million dollar renovation. The total time in the dry dock will be around 5 weeks, and they are about half way done now. We got dropped off in the shuttle and had to walk our luggage about 400m to where we could enter the ship. It wouldn’t have been that bad if I had a suitcase on 4 wheels like every other sane person. And if it wasn’t 45 degrees. I looked like an absolute fool struggling to wheel my broken suitcase, with a 20lb duffle bag over one shoulder and a backpack over the other. I thought we would walk on the ship on a nice ramp, but because it is in dry dock, that wasn’t the case. We had to lift all of our suitcases up the most narrow 10 stairs i’ve ever seen in my life and pull them across a metal plank that was barely wide enough for any of the luggage. Luckily I’m not afraid of heights, because it was damn high. And not above water. The ship is literally out of water during this dry dock. Can you even picture a cruise ship out of water? It’s crazy. The amount of work and labour going into it is hard to wrap my head around. The first three days have just been filled with a ton of paperwork and training and touring around the bottom of the ship. I can’t believe i’ve not even been here for three full days yet, it feels like it has been a month already. We aren’t allowed on any upper levels that guests would go to because of all of the construction. However, I did get to briefly see a bit of deck 5 which is where one of the main guest areas is and I have no idea how they are going to be finished all of this in time. Literally everything is getting revamped. Everything. There is an unfathomable amount of things to get done still and to clean up. They have hundreds (if not thousands) of people from all over the world working on it on top of the 1,100 cruise staff that are also helping to do things. Everywhere i’ve seen on the ship is a sea of contractors in blue jumpsuits working 24/7. Its a mess, but a good mess.

Starting my contract during the dry dock has been great because there won’t be any guests on the ship until mid October. Everything has been extremely laid back in terms of training because there is not a rush. Myself and the other new hires are also super lucky because we do not have any duties during this time. Mostly everyone else has to be on “fire watch” where you are supposed to supervise a part of the ship for like, 6 hours and make sure a fire doesn’t start. Very glad to not be doing that. So when we aren’t doing training, we can kind of do whatever we want, which mostly involves napping or laying in bed. Jet lag is truly something. I’m in a temporary room right now until I can get placed with another youth staff. The room is a legit shoe box and everything is crammed, but I knew this would be the case. I currently am on a top bunk and cant sit up without bumping my head. It’s tricky to get out and requires some core strength. I’m also living out of my broken suitcase because I don’t want to unpack everything and then have to pack it all up again in a few days when I move. The last two nights i’ve gone to the crew bar where all the staff can drink, apparently some people go every single day, even when they are working. I’m now ready for a chill night in bed after the last 2 days.

It’s crazy how many different people i’ve met from all over the world in just 3 days. I’ve met 3 Canadians so far and one happened to be an engineer from Burlington. I was wearing a mcmaster t-shirt and he came up to chat. Small world. I think there are over 70 different nationalities working on the ship. Talk about a melting pot of culture. The food here is looking like it might be a bit tricky for me as a vegan. It has been the same stuff pretty much every day (pasta, salad, rice, potatoes, peanut butter sandwiches and fruit for me). Apparently the food gets better once it is out of dry dock, so we shall see. I’ll also be able to eat at guest restaurants once they are up and running. Unfortunately/also kind of fortunately, it looks like I wont be having any sweets or desserts until March.  I have to make my dark chocolate from home last!  It’s going to be so weird (but kind of nice) to not cook or clean any dishes for the next 5 months, though i’ll definitely miss being able to make whatever I want.

Dry dock is looking like its going to be pretty repetitive and similar every day.  I’ll have more to share once things get rolling and when we actually start working. I’m already missing the autumn weather that is going to be coming soon at home, it is so unbelievably humid and hot here and is only gonna get more intense. I think tomorrow we are able to get off the ship and go to Marina Bay Sands and Gardens by the Bay at night time. 

I’ve posted some pics either above or below this text post of the airport and one panorma of the back on the ship’s view in dry dock. (not supposed to post any pics of anywhere on the ship during the reno)

Cheers

[stayextrafrosty]

Rhythm of the Rain

Request: The reader is feeling horribly homesick in the middle of a tour and one evening she sneaks away before a show to sit by herself in one of the venues loading docks to watch the rain. She leaves her phone in the green room. Patrick can't find her, and for some reason thinks the worst. So, the guys and crew members, are looking high and low for her. One of the guys stumbles upon her and in the end, Patrick is relieved to see her. Worried fluffy?

Warnings: none

Words: 1894

Masterlist

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The thunder pulled me out of the world of my book. It must have been really nasty outside for me to hear it inside the venue and through my headphones. I wondered if they guys were going to postpone this show. Fall Out Boy cared about the fans and their safety. Of course, they did come from Chicago where the weather could be hellish at times.

The lights flickered above me. I pulled out my phone to check the weather radar. How long was the storm going to last? There was a giant yellow blob over the area, but it seemed to be moving quickly enough.

I smiled to myself. We got this kind of weather pretty regularly back home. I wonder what it’s been like for the last few weeks? I missed it, honestly. This was my first real experience away from home for longer than a week. I was finally getting on my feet and my little apartment was cozy. Of course, I still ended up at my parents occasionally for several days at a time.

There was a knock at the door and I turned my head to check who it was. Patrick stood there smiling at me. I ginned back. I don’t know how I got so lucky. We’ve only been dating for a few months so when he asked me to come with him on this tour I was hesitant. I was worried I would just be in the way.

“Got your nose in another book?” He came and leaned over the back of the couch. I rolled my eyes at him.

“Hey, my method of escape is healthy. No judging,” I said, pretending to be offended.

“Not judging. Just stating the obvious, babe.” I blushed at the pet name. He was a dork. “You feeling ok? You’ve been quiet,” he asked. I shrugged.

“Yea. Just feeling a bit homesick is all.” Patrick nodded and leaned down to kiss my forehead.

“I understand that. I can get you a plane ticket home if you’d like? I know these tours can get long.” He looked a bit sad, but I know he’s being serious. It wasn’t his fault I was feeling this way. I wanted to do this. It was just rough right now.

“You don’t need to do that. I want to be here. I want to support you.” Pink dusted his cheeks.

“Thanks, I appreciate it, (Y/N). But don’t hesitate to let me know if you wanna go home.” I nodded and smiled at him. “Alright well I have to make sound check. I’ll see you in a bit,” he said, kissing my head again. He hurried out of the room. My phone buzzed in my hand. A message from my younger sister.

How’s traveling with the famous band? Amazing I bet…

It’s fun! But I’ll admit I do miss home… How’s everything there?

It’s sunny and warm for once! Mom and Dad are out to dinner right now. I finally get the house to myself

Oh, so you’ll sit in the living room on your computer rather than your bedroom or mine?

Shut up!

I laughed at my sister’s struggles. We were unbelievably close, but I understood the want to be alone. Of course, I wanted nothing more than for her to be here with me. Give me some semblance of normality. Maybe I just needed alone time like her. I had spent every day with the guys and the crew for the past few weeks. Just a break from people.

I set my book down and stood from the couch. I looked down at my phone again before putting it on top of my book. Some real alone time.

I wandered the halls of the venue. I could hear the soundcheck going. They were in the middle of “Jet Pack Blues.” I smiled at the change in set list. They hadn’t played it in a long time. It was one of my favorites off the record.

I continued on and noticed one of the doors out to the loading dock was open. I pushed the door completely open, looking around. There didn’t seem to be anyone here. I watched as the rain poured down outside. Someone must have forgotten to close the dock.

Lightning flashed across the sky, but the accompanying thunder didn’t come for almost ten seconds. The storm was moving on. I sat on the edge of the dock but far enough inside, so I wouldn’t get wet. I didn’t need to get sick.

The rain came in waves. Lightning flashed every minute or so but even that started to slow down. I started seeing birds again. They would land and try to shake off the water, but it would be useless. I noticed another land in a puddle and begin playing in it. I smiled to myself.

There was a bird nest outside my bedroom window. Whenever it rained, the mom would come back for shelter and to keep her young warm. I would watch the mother care for her babies. It was adorable really.

I tugged my legs up to my chest and rested by chin on my arms. I did miss home.

-

Patrick P.O.V

“Hey Trick! Where ya off to,” Pete asked, a slight smirk on his face. Why does he feel the need to make me wanting to spend time with my girlfriend weird?

“Same place I always go after soundcheck, Pete.” He put his hands up in a surrender position. They actually all liked (Y/N) a lot.

“Leave the poor guy alone,” Andy said, slapping Pete on the back. I rolled my eyes at them and hurried back to my girl. This was the first time I had invited a girlfriend to travel with us. I noticed that whenever we did tours, it always put stress on the relationship. But she was homesick and maybe the slight stress would have been better than taking her away from her family.

I pushed the door to the room open. I looked around for her, but she was nowhere to be found. I frowned. Where did she get off to? Probably just the bathroom. I can just wait.

I waited. But after five minutes I was getting worried. Restrooms were right down the hall. She left her phone and book. I stepped out of the room and grabbed one of the stage crew.

“Hey, have you seen (Y/N)?” They thought for a minute. I suppose not all the crew knew her.

“Sorry, Patrick. I haven’t.” I thanked them anyway and walked down to the bathrooms. I was going to knock on the door but figured that’d be weird. I couldn’t go in there. Thankfully a woman walked by. I asked her to check the bathroom for me, but still nothing.

“Where did you go,” I mumbled to myself. I hurried to the room we usually spent our time before the show in. The guys were talking casually about something that happened on twitter or whatever.

“Guys, (Y/N) hasn’t been by has she?” I tried to sound calm.

“No, why? She’s usually with you,” Joe said. I tapped my fingers on my leg, a nervous habit.

“Well, I can’t find her, and she doesn’t have her phone.” They looked between each other.

“Maybe she wanted some alone time? I bet you’re getting worked up over nothing. I’m sure she’s fine,” Pete pointed out. My shoulders relaxed a bit. He was probably right, but…

“She usually leaves a note or texts me when she does that though. That’s why I’m worried. And no one else has seen her either.”

“We can help you look but I agree with Pete. She’s probably fine.” Andy was the first to stand. I sighed in relief.

“Thanks guys.”

-

Your P.O.V

The rain had finally slowed to a drizzle. Fans had started showing up around the venue. Some in ponchos or jackets.

I should probably get back soon. Soundcheck is probably ending. I don’t want Patrick to worry. I stood and stretched my arms. I wiped my jeans off.

“(Y/N)!” I jumped at the voice. I turned and saw Joe pushing the door open and waving to me. I raised an eyebrow.

“Hey, what’s up? Soundcheck over?” He looked at me and ran a hand through his hair.

“Uh, yea. It’s been over for almost an hour now.” My eyebrows shot up. No way was I sitting here that long. “We’ve been looking all over for you. Patrick is out of his mind right now. Thinks you up and bailed.”

“Shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t know I was here for that long. I didn’t bring my phone,” I said. Joe half laughed.

“Yea, well. Let’s get back and stop Patrick from turning the place upside down.” I nodded as we hurried back to the main area.

-

“Patrick, relax! I’m sure she’ll turn up before the show starts.” Pete was trying to calm him down when we walked in.

“Hey, look who I found,” Joe said, getting the others attention. Patrick whirled around to face me. His hair was messy from what I assume was him running his hands through it. Relief relaxed his body and he rushed over to me.

Patrick pulled me into a hug. I returned it silently, feeling him relax against me. I pulled away and rested a hand against his cheek.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“Where did you go? I swear I checked everywhere.” He took my hand in his and pressed a light kiss against the back.

“I just wanted to watch the rain. I found a loading dock that was left open. I thought I would be back before soundcheck was over.” He sighed but still smiled at me.

“I thought you had left the venue. Like you got sick of spending time with us or something,” he said, half joking. He might have said “us” but I could hear the implied “me.” I shook my head.

“Never. I’m having a great time. I promise.” I smiled sweetly. “The rain just reminded me of home. Even I need alone time,” I joked.

“I suppose we gotta tell the venue people to not leave loading docks open anymore,” Joe said. We all chuckled.

“They’re not supposed to leave those open anyway,” Andy pointed out. I rolled my eyes at them. Patrick adjusted so he could wrap his arm around my shoulder.

“Not that I need to know where you are at all times, you obviously can go wherever you want, it would just be nice if—”

“He wants to know where you are at all times,” Pete said, cutting Patrick off.

“Oh, shut it, Pete,” he scolded. Pete smirked and slapped Patrick on the back before heading off. Joe and Andy shuffled off after him, leaving Patrick and I alone.

Patrick’s face was dusted with a light blush. I smiled and kissed his cheek. I know he was worried. I really shouldn’t be running off without telling someone where I’m going anyway. If only so they don’t leave me here.

“I’ll try to remember to leave a note if I decide to wander off.” He glanced over at me briefly. Just as shy as ever.

“While I appreciate that, just ignore what Pete said.” I laughed.

“Don’t worry, I usually do.” Patrick laughed along with me.

[wil-o-wispymadi-blog]

Wil-Ó-The-Wisp Chapter 2 (Chapter Series Part 1): “Stark’s Industry”

>Previous Chapter —> “Chapter 1: Madeline Winter (Chapter Series Part 1)”

Intro: Madisyn Hunter, was a young girl when she first connected to the Tesseract. Under her father’s orders of HYDRA, he used her as an experiment when she was quite young. Now she can do the impossible that no one has seen before, but every heroine needs a story of how she plays out. From being a hopeless girl, to be raised in an organization to help the good, to grow older and being part of a world that she never knew will exist, and to the end where everything will take the last fall.

Warning: Some severe burns from Pepper Pots.

After Madisyn talk with Fury, she then walked straight out. Clint was waiting for her on the other side of the door wearing a black leather jacket and regular jeans.

“Heard the news?” She asked.

He let out a long string of humm, “Mhmm. But I’m not sure if I’m actually accepting this idea of you flying over to the west coast alone just to do this mission task with a man whose cocky and self-center.”

“Trust me if Fury let me have another option I would have denied it at the first second, but this is actually a huge mission, and I’m ready to do more. It’s an easy undercover mission, no harm will follow.”

Clint sighed as he stopped in his tracks as she did too, he reaches up and squeezes her shoulder, “I know you’ll do good. You’re like a daughter to me and I just don’t want you to get more caught up with this organization life than living your actual real life. As a 14-year-old teenager, who should be fangirling over boy bands with their friends and have sleepovers.”

Madisyn smiled, she wrapped her hand around his and squeezed it, “Thanks, Clint. You’ve been there for me and took care of me better than my father ever had,” she leaned in and wrapped her arms around him to squeeze him in a hug.

“Good luck kid. I already got your bags packed. You’ll be staying with this family that is working under us. They know what to do and will be waiting once Coulson drops you off. He will be your bodyguard throughout the entire week. I know you can do this, go get him, tiger.” He winked.

She laughed, she followed him behind where he was waiting in the car. Madisyn said bye to Nat as she hopped in and rode back home to claim her items.

-Next Day; LAX Airport-

The busy crowd of people jams together, stroking their suitcases strolling by. Madisyn’s eyes scanned around as she tightly holds the handle of her suitcase. Coulson put his hand in her shoulder as Madisyn looked at him. He nodded his head reassuring her that everything will be fine. She took a deep breath understanding him, she then followed him where the car that was assigned to them parked outside of the airport waited by one of Fury’s agent who was secretly disguised as a regular chauffeur.

They drove off, it was noon and Madisyn was pretty jet lag from flying over to the west coast just for this mission. She plugged out the real world and enter her own when she plugged in her earphones. She was zoning out to the music of Blink 182. She watches the tall palm trees pass by, counted each car that drives by, and watch the people walking across the sidewalk. This was basically her new home for the entire few weeks until she can find the right time to tell Tony Stark about this initiative.

Sure as hell she’s nervous, but it doesn’t stop her there from accomplishing her first solo mission. Soon they arrived at a tall beige color house. It was at least 2-story high, and very modern looking. She notices two people were standing by the driveway waiting for them. A woman with blonde curly hair and green eyes with a man next to her dark brown and blue eyes. The chauffeur parked the car in the driveway as Coulson stepped out, opening the door for Madisyn who carefully paused her music and wrapped the cord around her iPod. She stepped out and shove her iPod into her back pocket. She walked around meeting the two people she will be living with for a while until she can get this mission cleared.

“Madisyn meets Ella-Marie and her husband Jeffery Coswell, they will be your ‘adopted parents’ until this mission is over. They will, of course, show their hospitality to you, they know what to do and what to say in any case things go wrong. If something happens you can ask them to call me and I will be right over here in a matter of seconds.” She nodded towards Coulson as She looked at the two people in front of me the woman smiled as she stuck out her hand.

“Hi Madisyn, I heard a lot about you. Fury has kept us updated about you so we know who you are. We’re agents as well, but got transferred over her to the West Coast agency. We only fly back there if he really needs our help.”

She nodded, “Well thank you for letting me stay here until I can complete the task which may take a couple weeks, maybe a month depending if he will accept it or not, or maybe I just ran my head through a wall and ignore this mission being completed.”

With that Madisyn stayed there for the entire night and a day to get used to the living arrangement, and to also to study her background info so she can actually take the part of being Madeline Hunter.

-Two Days Later-

The next day after yesterday of her studying and adjusting the new living arrangements had rolled by. It was time for Madisyn to meet Tony Stark, the one and only man that Fury believe will help the initiative to proceed.

And Madisyn was not having it, she was woken up late due to not yet adjusting her sleeping schedule of the new time zone. She had 50 minutes to get to the Industry and being late is not an absolute good first-day impression of being an intern. She completely rushed as she tried to curl her hair, but she added too much hairspray as she tried to brush it out gently, but ended up making her have an 80’s frizz style Afro. One thing for sure Madisyn isn’t the most stylish person.

Though she couldn’t be late so she had to deal with her messy bird's nest of a hair-do, where she tried pinning it into a low bun but ended up a hot mess. Coulson picked her up and drove her to Malibu where Madisyn will be meeting Tony Stark’s assistant, Pepper Pots.

When the moment arrived she stepped out of the black SUV, adjusting the black work pants she brought and fixing the striped blouse. She saw the woman with the long fixed red hair that was pulled into a low ponytail. She had her business wear while waiting by the entrance. The Chauffeur exited out and open the door for Madisyn, Coulson couldn’t quite make his entrance just yet. Has to be known that Madisyn and Coulson do not know each other.

Madisyn walked over to Pepper Pots, who instantly glanced at her hair. Her eyebrows cocked forward while her eyes read more of a judgmental stare.

Madisyn felt the back of her neck heating which ran to her cheeks.

“Ermm...I had trouble with my curling Iron.”

She nodded slowly, “I can tell...”

“Anyways, I’m Madeline Winter,” Madisyn stuck out her hand as Pepper leaned and grabbed it to shake it.

“Pepper Pots, call me Ms. Potts. I’ll be showing you if what Mr. Stark will be showing you, and will be teaching you. The same thing goes for him as he needs to know as well. But most of the time you’ll be talking with me.”

She clicked her pen before signing something and gave her a paper, Madisyn grabbed it. She looked at it and see it was a scheduled time.

“Since you have school in the morning and ends around 12, you’ll be getting 6 hours of work in then will be going home. No overnight shifts since you are young still and need a lot of energy for tomorrow. 2pm-8:30pm will be your Shift time every week, Saturday will be 10am-6:30 pm and Sundays will be your days off,” She hugged the tablet closer to her chest before taking a breath, “You’ll be meeting at the company industry, but Mr. Stark usually likes to work at home, so you will meet at the company and his assistant will drive you to his house every day. Also wear business casual, as he likes to keep it professional. Other than that do you have any questions before we start the grand tour?” She asked.

Madisyn shook her head, “Great please follow where I’ll meet you to Tony Stark.” She turns her self and heads toward the front door. She enters the pad-code as she unlocks the door and enters inside the tall house. The interior was nice as glass stain walls were built, a nice waterfall on the side and a long staircase. I heard a loud buzzing noise, as I jumped a the sudden loudness, “You’re not authorized Mrs. Everhat”. A voice spoke around the house, making me grow confused.

I looked as Pepper grabbed a dry cleaning hanger of a women clothing. She effortlessly walked to the side where I followed her and notice a young beautiful woman standing near an alarm system. “That’s JARVIS, he runs the house.” Pepper calmly said while having her leg slight spread stance as she leaned towards her left hip side.

She picked up the dry cleaning and said, “Got your clothes here, they have been dry cleaned, and pressed, there’s a car waiting for you outside anywhere you would like to go.”

I flickered my eyes at the calmness of Pepper and the strange woman who was just wearing nothing, but a red dress shirt revealing her long bare legs.

“You must be the famous Pepper Pots?” She questioned as she walked forward towards us.

Pepper calmly smile and played around the hanger in the plastic cover, “Indeed I am.”

The woman came around and picked the hanger off her hands and proceed to state, “After all these years, Tony still has you picking up the dry cleaning?” She said with a sneer expression on her face.

Pepper just kept the calm smile and then said in a calm tone, “I do anything and everything that Mr. Stark requires. Including taking out the trash, Will that be all?” She just smiled, causing the woman having a snaring look.

I lightly chuckled causing the woman to snap her glare at me, before rolling her eyes and walking away to change. “Please excuse that, it’s one of Tony’s reporters. You may or may not be seeing a lot of them.”

Pepper brushed her hands aside before walking down, she then casually said without turning,

“Please follow. He’s waiting for you downstairs.”

To be Continued—> “Chapter 3: The Woman in Blue”

[wildandrunning]

02: Say You’ll Haunt Me

Andy stared at his overstuffed suite case. Nearly all of his belongings were jammed inside, everything he needed for the next two months was in there. The singer sat down on his mattress, looking around his room. Two months of having his legs cramped inside those little bunks, of living off gas station food and cigarettes. At least this tour they actually had a bus instead of that godforsaken van. 

‘I should be grateful’ he thought to himself. Here he was living his dream, but all he could do was worry. It was a lot harder than he’d anticipated though. As much as he hated his life in Ohio, he sort of missed it. Things were moving so fast here. It felt like all the fans, fame and attention came about overnight. Granted the band was still reasonably small, it was still a shock. 

There was constant pressure to be perfect. All the fans expect this superhero Andy ‘Six’ character. That person wasn’t real. Whenever Andy was on stage, he was this larger than life figure, no fear, no self-doubt, full of confidence... The truth was that he was drowning. Drowning in all the press, pressure and criticism. It seemed like every day there was a new article out about how Black Veil Brides was nothing more than a wannabe KISS band. The young boy never expected the hatred that would get. 

It was just like high school with all the names that were thrown at him. Everyone was waiting for him to fail and they would all laugh and say ‘I told you so’ when it happened. How did people deal with this? Of course, he knew the answer, in his short time in Hollywood he’d found the answer. Drugs, alcohol, sex, all things that led to self-destruction. 

“Andy you in there?” Ash knocked on the door. 

“Oh yeah, um just finishing up packing,” he responded as the bassist walked in. 

“You alright?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Mhm..” Andy forced a smile. Oh, you know just having second thoughts about my entire life plan because I’m not sure I’m strong enough to do this he thought. 

“Well, are you ready? The bus is going to be here any minute, and if you want to pick your bunk before the rest of the guys, I suggest you get your ass down there.” 

---

The last row, bottom left. That was where he’d sleep for two whole months. Andy sighed and threw his stuff in. At least there was a private lounge area in the back of the bus. He wished he knew before committing to life on the road how poorly he did in buses. He’d never had car sickness before, but an entire tour in a cramped van sure did him in. So sleeping while the bus was in motion was out of the question, but maybe he could get in some writing in the back. 

The rest of the band was up front, figuring out how to work the flat screen. Ashley had already broken out the liquor to celebrate. Andy felt out of place up there, what fun was watching his friends get drunk? 

“Andy! Get your ass up here and come do a shot ya’ pussy!” CC yelled from up front. 

The singer rolled his eyes before making his way up front. CC shoved a shot glass overflowing with whiskey into Andy’s hand. “Join in.” 

“Uh... no thanks.”  “Ah come on man, what’s one shot. We’re finally on a major tour, we’ve got to celebrate” Jake encouraged. 

Andy looked at the golden liquid. He’d drank before, just once when he was 13. He’d gone to a party (not one he was invited to of course) and gotten super drunk on cheap beer. He’d been so eager to impress the ‘cool’ kids that he just started slamming beers, the whole night was a blackout. What he did remember was puking his guts up the next morning. Not exactly something he’d enjoyed. 

“Really. I’m fine.” he insisted, handing the shot back. 

“I’m gonna get you drunk on this tour, mark my words.” CC laughed, nudging the singer. 

“I don’t know, I kind of respect that Andy doesn’t drink. Now if only you’d quit that nasty habit of smoking.” Ashley added in, coming to his defense. 

Jake, Jinxx, CC, and Ash all clinked their glasses together before downing the first shot of tour. Two months.. let’s go. 

--

Ashley paced around the front of the bus, absentmindedly watching the street lights zip by. He had no idea what time it was, but it was late. The rest of the guys had retired to their bunks, but he stayed up. Tomorrow was the first show, one of many. He was excited, the thrill of the stage was something he’d missed. This tour was important, more so than any of the guys understood. If they could do well, then things would only go up from here. 

If they could prove that they could do this, then maybe their chances of making it big time could become a reality. A few shows had already sold out, that was a good sign. Black Veil had to show that they could pack venues. 

The band had a good sized fan base, but they were still seen as nothing more than a couple dudes in makeup and women’s clothes. Which, while true didn’t mean they couldn’t actually play as well.  

No use worrying about it now, time would tell.. better to get some rest. He walked back into the bunk area, his bunk was directly across from Andy’s. Speaking of which, Andy’s bunk was wide open and empty. 

A light was seeping out from under the door that led to the lounge. He pressed the door, cracking it open slightly. Andy was sitting on the couch, hunched over with his head in his hands. 

“Andy..?”

The younger boy jumped at the sound of his voice, quickly wiping at his eyes. His black makeup was smeared in faint trails down his pale cheeks. He’d clearly been crying. 

“Are you okay? What are you doing up?” Ashley asked, closing the door behind him. 

“I’m f-fine, I’m just... I can’t sleep I guess.” his normally confident voice was shaky and broken. 

Ashley walked over to the boy, carefully sitting down next to him. Andy looked away, hiding behind a veil of jet black hair. The bassist shifted his weight awkwardly. Emotions were never something he was good with, and if he’d learned anything about Andy, it was that he had a lot of them. 

Andy seemed to feel everything intensely. 

“Come on kid what’s wrong? Did something happen?” After a few moments of silence, he finally responded.  “What if I can’t do it...” Andy whispered. 

“Can't-do what?” “All of it. What if I can’t live this life, what if I fail?” Andy looked over at the man next to him, his powder blue eyes were red from crying. 

“Aw Andy.. of course, you can. You’ve made it a hell of a lot farther than most people do. We’re on a headlining tour, we’re making it.”  “I know that, but what if I can’t handle it?”  “You’re strong, of course, you’ll be able to,” Ashley assured him. 

Andy bit his tongue. He wanted to trust Ashley, to tell him everything he’d been hiding inside. He barely knew the man though, and he didn’t want Ashley to feel like he’d taken a chance on him for nothing. The truth was that Ashley’s fate was riding on his being able to keep it together as well. Andy knew this was about more than just him, four other people’s careers were at stake. Which only made him feel worse...

“Look, I know this is probably stressful. It’s a lot to take in, but you’ll be fine. Plus you’re not doing it alone. You’ve got the guys and me.” Ashley hoped that the kid would snap out of it, this was just the first night. It’s probably all nerves. 

Andy nodded, looking down at his lap. Ashley looked the boy over, how could anyone like Andy be so self-doubtful? He was.. breathtaking and talented. He’d seen that kid absolutely command the crowd, he was a natural on stage. Why in the world would he think he couldn’t do it? 

Ashley tilted Andy’s chin up, leaning in close to him. “Hey, if I thought you didn’t have it in you I would have never agreed to do this with you. Okay?” 

Andy bit his lip, “Okay.” he whispered. Ashley stared into the singer’s eyes, fighting back an overwhelming urge to kiss him. 

That was the intention with Andy from the start, that’s why he even gave him the time of day. Ashley had a thing for pretty boys, something he kept secret except for a couple of close friends. Andy was his type. When he first laid eyes on him after finding his ad online, he had every intention of sweet talking him into bed. Just a one night stand, no need to get involved in some kid’s drama. 

Andy had impressed him though, the kid really had something good with his band. Ashley made the ‘business’ decision that he would actually join the band and cross out the one night stand idea. That didn’t stop him from still wanting it though. God, he wanted it... 

Andy rested his forehead against the older man’s. A shiver went down Ashley’s spine as he felt Andy’s breath against his lips. He needed to stop this, now. 

“So it’s settled then. No more doubting yourself, and no more tears.” Ashley said, leaning back and patting Andy on the back.

“Y-Yeah... no more.” Andy stuttered. 

Andy watched Ashley walk out, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. What the hell was that about he asked himself? He really thought that Ashley was about to kiss him, and he was going to let him? Would he let him? 

‘Of course, I wouldn’t let him, I mean that would be gay.. and I’m not’ he thought to himself. Okay, so maybe he had kissed a couple of guys before, but that was just normal teenage experimenting right? He’d had sex with a girl before that meant he couldn’t be gay.. only he’d hated it. The truth was he didn’t enjoy having sex with that girl back in high school, but maybe it was just her. Everyone knew she was loose... 

And yeah maybe he did have some thoughts that involved guys, and maybe he gets off a few times to those thoughts, but that was normal right? He would never actually do any of that in real life. He just hadn’t met the right girl yet, that was all. 

All in all, just another thing that haunted him... 

[didiletyouknooow]

48. I Could Have Lied

Hey!

So here is the new chapter. I had a lot of time for writing this weekend.

I hope you like it and don’t hate me for this ending.... :)

________

„Good morning my love“ Josh woke me up this morning. I was surprised because it was still early in the morning. But it was my birthday so I wasn’t mad at him for waking me up. “I wish you a happy, happy birthday” he said and kissed me. “May aaaaaaall your dreams come true!” he smiled. “Thank you so much” I said a bit overwhelmed by it. He didn’t only wake me up, he also brought me breakfast to our bed. “I wanna spend the whole day with you only. But first, let’s have delicious breakfast!” he grinned. He made everything I love so much. I mean, I’m a total breakfast lover. I just love pancakes, eggs, toast, bread. I love bread but it’s not easy to get here in the States. But a few miles away from Josh’s house there is a German bakery and sometimes he drives there to get us some German bread. “It’s sooooo good!” I said while eating my jelly bread. “I’m happy to make you happy with such modest things” “See, I’m very easy to get along with, right?” “Of course!” he smiled. “Sorry that I didn’t organize a surprise party this year” he grinned. “Oh it’s totally okay. Last year’s party was great and if you would do it every year it wouldn’t be something special anymore” “You’re right!” he said. “So, what about having a walk or even doing a hike later?” “Sounds great!” I agreed.

So we drove to the San Bernardino National Park and did a hike. When we arrived at a beautiful overlook we did a break and had some lunch we brought with us. It was the best idea we had in a long time to do this hike. “Wow, what a beautiful landscape” I said. “I’ve never been here before” “Really?” Josh asked surprised. “Never?” “No….I know it sounds funny because if you grew up in LA you think that people did see everything of the city but it’s not true” “Yeah, I’m living here for nearly 37 years now and I didn’t see everything” Josh agreed. “Although I saw a lot of small fucked up clubs” he joked.   We just sat there watching the nature just being nature. I loved places like this where you can only be yourself, no one who bothers you and no one who wants you to do anything. “You know” Josh suddenly started saying. “I know we had some tough months and I’m sorry that I didn’t talk to you. But I needed some time for myself. I had the feeling you already came to terms with yourself but I didn’t. I needed time, I still need it. I still feel the pain and the disappointment and the sadness. It hurts to loose someone, even if you don’t know the person. I mean, it was only a few weeks old….” I was surprised by Josh’s honest words. “I know….it’s not easy and I can understand that you needed time” I told him. “And I’m so sorry that I was on tour almost the whole time and I will be on tour the next year. This sucks so much. I wanted to be there for you but I couldn’t” “Josh, you were there. You came to the hospital and cancelled a show for me. That’s everything you could do. And I really appreciate it. You were the best boyfriend I could imagine for such a situation” “Really? I don’t see myself as someone like that….I think I’m not a good boyfriend. Most of the time I’m not there to support you, to live with you” “Believe me, you are. And since music is your job it’s totally okay that you’re away on tour. It’s what you do, what you love” “Yeah but when something really bad happens I’m not there and that sucks to know….” ”Josh, it’s okay, ja?” “Hm….” “Believe me” I mumbled and put my head on his shoulder. “You know” he then said. “I really love you. I always missed you on tour. When I came to Europe or Japan or then back to Canada I always wished you were with me….I know it’s not easy to handle. And if you will get a job really soon we won’t have time for that but….” he paused. He did mention it. Maybe I would have a job very soon because a few weeks ago a former professor of mine called me to ask me for a job interview after he read my application for a job at a university in LA. He was working there now and he remembered me from some years ago. So I would have a job interview in three weeks.

“So….I wanna spent some time with you on the road” Josh suddenly said. “I wanna share as many memories as possible with you. And for that I give you this scrapbook where you can put all the pictures we already made or we will make in.” Then Josh gave me a dark red book. I opened it and saw a few notes he wrote on the first page.

“E….

This is for you. For you and me. We already went through so much. So much pain, so much happiness and so much luck. I wouldn’t be the person I am today if I  wouldn’t have met you. You make me happy every day!

Let’s share our memories in Polaroids in this beautiful book.

In love,

J….”

Then I turned over to the next pages where Josh already stuck some pictures we took together. It showed us at Rock am Ring in the rain, in Belgium eating fries, at Roskilde watching Damon Albarn or in Berlin posing in front of the Brandenburg Gate. Now I knew why he took so many pictures lately. He already knew what he would give me for my birthday. I almost started crying when I saw all these pictures of us. All these good memories we shared in the last weeks that let me forget all this bullshit we’ve been through in the last months.  “Wow Josh, thank you so much. I can’t find words for it” “Oh you don’t have to” he chuckled. I kissed him as a sign of my gratefulness. “I love you” I whispered. “And I love you!” he said smiling. “I hope we will share much more memories together in the next years” I said a bit lost in thoughts. “I hope so too but….it’s not the whole gift I have for you this birthday” he then said. “Okay?” I looked at him. “What’s left?” I noticed that it took him some time to finally find the right words. I think he didn’t know if I would really agree with his plan. “I booked us a beautiful hotel in the Swiss alps where we can hike and enjoy the nature on the two off days the Chilis have in October. Do you wanna come with me? It’s also around my birthday so….it would mean a lot to me if you would come with me to Europe again” “Ohhhh really?” I looked at him with a surprised face. I think I couldn’t refuse his plans. Although this touring world wasn’t really my thing I would be with him and that was the most important thing to me at the moment.  “Sounds great! Yes, of course I will come with you.” I said and hugged him. 

While we were standing there hugging I thought about our last months. He was right, we had some difficult times but every relationship has it. You become stronger if you can overcome those times. Maybe Josh and I needed some time to overcome it completely. Maybe I should enjoy our next weeks together.

Josh had two special concerts in the next week. Firstly he had to play with the Chilis an acoustic set at a gala at Flea’s music school, Silverlake Conservatory. I accompanied him and it felt a bit weird although it wasn’t the first time I was there with him as a date but I always felt a bit uncomfortable in the public. But it was a great show, they played some older songs and later James Corden (yes THE James Corden) did a speech. Josh and I had a talk with him about music and other things later. He was so nice and gentle and so funny. I even did a selfie with him and then he wanted to take a selfie with Josh and me together. I think James Corden was one of the funniest people I’ve ever met.

The next concert was only one day later in Palm Springs where Josh played together with Bob Forrest and some of his friends a few old Bicycle Thief songs. I liked the show and Josh seemed to enjoy it as well. Bob told many funny and also crazy stories about his life as a musician and about life in general. Later that night Josh and I drove home and packed our bags for the next Europe tour leg.

We landed in Spain and although we were very tired we went out to take a walk through Madrid. But since we were both very jet lagged we only had dinner at a fancy restaurant in the old city and then went back to the hotel. I spent most of the next day on my own because Josh had a lot of press to do. Between two interviews he did he managed to have lunch with me before he had another interview at the venue. Later that night I went back to the arena where the Chilis played two sold out shows. I wasn’t on my own because at the first night I met Sam’s girlfriend Linda. So we ordered some beer and danced along to the music. I wondered who the two young girls were who were dancing and filming the whole concert at the side of the stage. Linda told me that one of them was Anthony’s new girlfriend. Wow, they must’ve been only 18 I thought. The crew and the band traveled to Barcelona where Josh and I visited some art museum and spent some time at the beach. I really liked Barcelona. It’s great when a city is located at the ocean so you have everything you need: the urban feeling with a lot of people but also the relaxing holiday feeling at the beach. Just like in LA.

October 

After the concerts in Barcelona Josh and I went to Swiss to the hotel he booked for us. We had two beautiful off days there and really made use of the little time we had there. We took a flight right after the last Barcelona gig and landed in Zurich in the middle of the night. Then we took the train to the little town in the alps. We arrived there in the early morning. The mountains were kissed by the sun and the sky was so blue I just wanted to melt in it…It was also October 3rd so I congratulated Josh on his birthday. I think I never ever congratulated him so early on the day. We sat there for a while on our hotel balcony just watching the sun kissing the mountains. I never wanted this moment to end.

After only a few hours of sleep we directly started our first of two hikes in the mountains. We did a break at a small mountain hut and enjoyed some Kaiserschmarrn. The next hike on the second day brought us to a beautiful lake in the mountains. It was still hot here in Europe although it was already October. So we decided to swim a little bit in the lake. The water was fucking cold but we didn’t care. I think I’ve never felt so close to nature before – okay maybe when we were in Iceland. We went back to the hotel with wet clothes and spent our last night off before the touring circus would continue in the spa area of the hotel.

The Chilis played two shows in Zurich but after the second show I had to take my flight back to LA because of my job interview. I felt like being a teenage girl again when Josh brought me to the airport and we hugged and kissed us goodbye. I really didn’t want to leave him now. We had a great time here in Europe in the last days and somehow I had the feeling that it would never feel like this again. I didn’t know why but I think we were both very happy during the last days. I wondered if this happiness would come back to us or if it was only a one hit wonder. I hoped it wasn’t. When I sat in the plane I started crying. Maybe I already knew that it wouldn’t be like that ever again….

A few days later – still a bit jet lagged – I had my job interview. My former professor greeted me and we chatted for a while until the official part started. The commission asked me some tough questions but somehow I could make it and didn’t feel that intimidated or petrified like I thought I would. The job would be a job as a teacher at school. Only a terminated job but I would get the opportunity for a longer contract. They seemed optimistic that they could offer this job for a longer time. After my interview was done I went out of the room and sat down at a bench. The next applicant went into the room. I think they invited 20 people for a job interview. I didn’t expect so many applicants here today so I felt a bit disappointed after my job interview because I think that my curriculum wouldn’t convince them. Some of the other applicants even started doing their PhD. I didn’t. But when I was waiting there in the lobby my former professor Mr. Bergenfels came to me. “Miss Puritz, it was great to see you again” he said. “I didn’t know you were living in Berlin for work after your graduation. Great step! I always tell my students that they should take an opportunity like this if they can. I know not everyone has the opportunity but you with your German background did it and that’s great!” he told me. I was shocked that he obviously liked my career progression of the last years. I’ve never looked at it like that. I’ve never seen living abroad as a big step in my curriculum because I only did it to get away from my ex Steve at that time. “Miss Puritz I wanna be honest with you” professor Bergenfels said. He originally was from Germany so that’s the reason for this German surname. “You won’t get the job at the university. Usually I don’t talk about this decision that open right after a job interview”. Okay, fuck. I think he saw my disappointment in my face.

“But I thought about it and….I need someone in my faculty” he then continued talking. The job I applied for was at a different faculty than the faculty he was working for. He was only in the commission who makes the decision in the end who gets the job. “So I suggest….maybe you wanna work for my faculty? I think you would be a good fit in my team” Wow….um what? Did he really offer me a job at his faculty? Okay where was the issue? “But it would mean that you have to do your PhD at the same time. Only then I can appoint you in my team. So maybe you’ll think about it and then call me in a few days?” “Um yes….sure…I….I’ll call you! Thank you Mr. Bergenfels, that’s a great opportunity” I answered still in shock. “Great. So if you’re interested you can call this number. They can give you all the information you need for a PhD in history at our university. You know I really like your curriculum and your attitude. I think you would fit in my team and I’m sure you will write a great dissertation. So just think about it, maybe think of a topic you’re interested in that fits to my faculty and then call me okay?” And with this offer he left me standing in the hall of the university. I was speechless. My former professor just offered me a job in his team and also offered me the opportunity to do my dissertation? I mean, I never really thought about it before if I want to do my PhD but….maybe I should take this opportunity?

Later that day I called Josh. He was in Bologna. I told him about the job opportunity. But his reaction was very reserved. “Great” he said. “Sounds like a great opportunity and you should do it if you want to” “Yeah, right? I still can’t believe it. I mean, I would have to work in the uni cosmos for some more years but….that would be such a great opportunity and the fact that my professor offers me the opportunity just makes me speechless” “Yeah I can imagine. Must be great” I had the feeling that Josh didn’t really want to talk with me. Or maybe he didn’t want to talk about this job opportunity? “So….I think I’m gonna call him tomorrow just to assure him that I will take the job. No matter which bureaucratic stuff I have to do to enroll at the uni for my PhD. I will do it!” “Great, do it” Okay, now he responded the same way three times in a row. What was wrong with him? “Is everything okay?” I asked him. “For sure it is” he answered me. “It’s just….I’m a bit bothered by some fans who were waiting outside of the hotel and filmed us” “Oh noooo I’m sorry….those idiots” “Yes but….I’m good” “Okay….I miss you. I wish I could be with you now. I wanna celebrate this job with you! But….we’ll do it when you’re back home, okay?” “For sure we do” “Good….so….how was your day so far?” “Just like any other day….we rehearsed and I had lunch with Sam…..the fans pissed me off here” “Hm…” ”That’s the negative side of my job” “But I bet the fans will greet at you and sing along at the concert later. Don’t think about the idiots….they just…..don’t think about them, okay?” “Mhmmm” Josh grunted. “Hey look Eileen, I have to hang up now. I’ll call you later before our gig okay?” Well, he didn’t.

I spent my next days grinning the whole time because I finally got a job. I called Mr. Bergenfels the next day to tell him that I would take the job and he organized some bureaucratic stuff for me and then informed me that I could start my PhD in January. I also had to teach at university as teaching assistant so I would be very busy.  

I skyped with Josh the other day again. He was now in Paris to play three sold out shows there. I felt happy for him for playing in front of such a huge crowd. I asked him about his last days and told him that I was looking forward to the day he would come back home. Only two days to count. Although I really missed him I didn’t had the feeling that he felt the same. He seemed so absent and barely talked with me. Maybe he was stressed out and still bothered by some fans in Italy but….I didn’t know what was wrong with him. But I told myself not to analyze everything. This man was on tour for half a year now. I bet he was just very tired and exhausted.

When Josh arrived back in LA we immediately packed our bags and flew to Cuba. Finally we had one week in Cuba to relax. I remembered our fight about this planned holiday. Josh told me in August that we would postpone our holiday to September but he was busy again in the end of September. He kind of compensated my frustration about our cancelled holiday to Cuba with booking a hotel in the Swiss Alps. Sure we had two beautiful days there but I was still a bit disappointed that we didn’t find time for our planned holiday. But on our train ride from the Alps to Zurich Josh told me that we can travel to Cuba after his tour leg in October. He would have time for a one week holiday because the Chilis had to play a special Halloween show on October 28.

So I agreed and now we were laying at the beach of Cuba. Wow, I was so impressed by this country. After two days at the beach we went to Havanna and visited the old city. We walked along the river walk Malecón and watched some glory buildings of the colonial era. Surely we rent a vintage car and cruised through the city. We then headed to Trinidad and visited La Casa de la Musica. I could even force Josh to dance with me. I mean, everyone here was dancing to Cuban rhythms. We did a hike and later relaxed at the beach again. On our last days before coming back to Havanna we went to Santiago de Cuba and visited the fortress Castillo del Morro which is an UNESCO World Cultural Heritage. We took so many pictures on our journey that I couldn’t stick all of them into my scrapbook.

On our last night we were having delicious dinner and later went to a beach bar where we tried some cocktails and when the sun was going down we sat down at the beach. I laid my head on his shoulder and just enjoyed the moment. Josh was smoking a cigar and even I tried it once but I didn’t like it. While we were sitting there, staring at the ocean, I realized that all the good moments we shared in the last months were at places where we were far away from home. But every time we were back in LA we had problems again and fought a lot. I knew that it meant that something was wrong in our relationship and I noticed that we still didn’t talk like we talked with each other one year ago. It’s like something was gone. Something was taken from us, from our easiness. We always lived the easy going way but now we even started fighting because someone forgot to put the trash out. It was ridiculous but we couldn’t help it. It just happened.

“I think right now in this moment I’m the happiest person in the world” I let Josh know. “Yes me too….” He said a bit lost in thoughts. “Can we just stay here forever? Can this moment never end, please?” “Well….it will end” “Why are you always destroying my dreams?” I laughed. “Sorry, I didn’t want to…” he chuckled and looked at me. I looked into his brown eyes, his hair was covering one of it. “You know, I’ve never thought about visiting Cuba one day and when you suggested it I didn’t think that I would like the country but I fell in love with it immediately. I love the countryside so much….” I told Josh. “It’s just beautiful and the attitude of the people here is great. I love these easy going mentality” he said. “But in a few days you have to go back on tour and I will be home alone…” I moaned. “Come with me. One last time before your job is starting next year. I mean, you have time, haven’t you?” “Hm….yes I have. Do you really want me to come with you for a forth time this tour?” I laughed. “I would love to have you by my side every day of the tour!” he said. “Oh, don’t be so cute all the time…” I said and laid my head on his shoulder again. “Aren’t the others bored by the fact that you always have your girlfriend with you on tour?” I joked. “No, why should they? They like you! Flea is very happy that we’re back together and that we overcame this pain. I mean, Anthony has a new girl every tour leg but I don’t care. I mean, some of these girls are nice and kind to me but most of the time I don’t really talk to them. Flea will bring his new girlfriend to the UK tour and I bring you with me all the time I can” he grinned. “You and Chad are the constant, aren’t you?” I laughed. “Why?” “Because you have serious relationships going on” “Well, okay….maybe Anthony and his girls aren’t so serious. But maybe they are, I don’t know” “Probably” I started laughing.

Oh I didn’t want this night to end because tomorrow we had to go back to LA. But now I wasn’t that frustrated coming back home because I would join Josh once again on his Europe tour.

Sadly the night was over anytime and we arrived back in LA. Josh was busy rehearsing with the Chilis at the Fonda Theater for the Kroq Halloween Show. I went there together with Molly and Eric and we had a great time. I think I’ve never saw the Chilis playing in such a small venue before. It was very hot and tempting. I liked it! One day later we flew back to Europe. We spent Halloween in Munich. Josh and I went to a bar that was decorated very Halloween like. Together with Sam we had some cocktails and went to bed very early – right before the witching hour started.

November

The next day they played their first concert of The Getaway Tour in Germany. The Olympiahalle in Munich wasn’t crowded that fast. I sometimes looked out of the backstage area and watched the audience. While Deerhoof was opening for them this night Josh and I went to the side of the stage to watch their concert. They were kind of crazy and I didn’t know if I liked it or not.

One hour later the Chilis finally entered the stage. I watched their concert and got goosbumps when Josh suddenly started playing “Heroes” by David Bowie. The whole arena was lightened by flues or phones. It looked so beautiful. Also It was Anthony’s 54th birthday and the audience even sang him a “Happy Birthday”.

After the concert the whole crew had some drinks at a pub before heading to Berlin the next day. Surely Lara came to the show again. I spent my day with her while Josh was rehearsing and did some interviews. In the evening Lara, Felix (they weren’t official dating but I had the feeling that there was something going on between them), Josh and me went to a fancy restaurant in Kreuzberg. On our way back to the hotel I recognized a person jumping out of a bush running away. I didn’t pay it much attention because there were so many crazy people living in Berlin that I didn’t really care about it anymore. Josh didn’t seem to see it. But the next morning I was woken up by a text message from Lara. She also sent me two pictures.

 “Hey,

Maybe you noticed it yesterday. I didn’t. But seemed like there was a paparazzi or so who took some pictures of us four leaving the bar where we had some drinks in Berlin Mitte. These pics are now posted on Instagram by some fan accounts. Even fans of Felix’ band posted them because you can definitely see him in these pics. I just wanted to inform you about it. Maybe Josh can do something against it and the pics can be deleted?

Love, Lara”

Then I clicked on the pics she sent me. It showed the four of us leaving the bar in Berlin late at night. While Josh was hidden by Felix’ head in the first picture you could definitely see Josh and me holding hands in the second one. I sighed. I knew he wouldn’t like it. But in the end he couldn’t do anything against it because even if it was a paparazzi it already happened. What should he do then? After checking out Lara’s message I opened Instagram and for the first time in years I took a look to the hashtag #joshklinghoffer. It didn’t take long until I found these pics there. Some fans already posted them and were discussing if I was his girlfriend or not. Well, I think holding hands is a good sign, right? I was rolling my eyes. I noticed that Josh woke up. “You’re already up?” he asked me and yawned. “Yes….we were photographed yesterday” I told him and confronted him with the pics. “Oh no….seriously? Who did these pics?” “I don’t know. I think it was a fan. I heard someone running away but I didn’t look who it was. I mean, we’re in Berlin. Here are living so many crazy people” “Yeah….well, whatever. Let’s have breakfast”

I was surprised that Josh wasn’t that mad about the pics. I think he tried to suppress it.

After the “Zephyr Song” debuted on The Getaway Tour in Berlin the fans were all pleased. Lara and I enjoyed the concert. When the show was over I asked her about Felix. “So, what’s happening between you two, Hm?” “Well, we’re just friends” “Yes of course!” I didn’t believe her. “You spent like….every day with him. I know you two already had something going on!” “I know….but we’re just….meeting….as friends!” she assured me. Of course, of course…..I didn’t believe her any word! Whatever. Josh and I had to travel to Antwerp and later to Amsterdam, Luxembourg and Cologne. This would be my last station because I had to fly back to the States to organize some stuff for my new job. The last touring days were kind of weird. While Josh and I had quite fun in Munich and Berlin – although these pictures were taken – we kind of were both mad at each other during the following tour. We didn’t really speak and he seemed very pissed off. I ask him why but he didn’t tell me. It was just his feeling right now he said. Surely we did some sightseeing in Amsterdam but Josh wasn’t in the mood for anything. So we spent most of the time in our hotel room. One day we wanted to meet for lunch. He had an interview in the morning so I waited for him at the hotel lobby. I waited 30 minutes, an hour, 1.5 hours. He didn’t show up. I was so pissed at him! I texted him and let him know that he behaved like an idiot. He didn’t even answer. I met Sam in the lobby. He asked me what I was doing here. I told him that I would wait for Josh and then Sam told me that Josh was going to have lunch with Ian and some other engineers. Great. He totally forgot me.

We fought a lot during this day and later Josh played a very bad concert in Amsterdam. I didn’t care. I wasn’t even in the mood to go to the concert but I didn’t want to be the pissed bitch so I went there, sat down at the terrace and watched the concert. 

When we arrived in Cologne Lara texted me. Again someone took pictures of me and Josh. It happened in Amsterdam and Cologne. So it seemed like someone followed us around. I showed it to Josh and he even showed it to their management. Now it was a serious problem here I thought. The management discussed who it could be and when someone asked if maybe Josh’s girlfriend (aka me) was involved in it because she only wanted to have the fame on the internet Josh got carried away. He almost beat the guy up if Flea wouldn’t have stopped him. “I dare you to say this EVER again about my girlfriend, okay?” he said to one of the guys from the management. I didn’t say anything because to me it was just bullshit. I knew that I was serious with Josh and so did he know it. So I didn’t care about the guy’s comment. But Josh did.

When Josh and I decided to take a walk through Cologne to visit my grandma’s grave a guy from the security should follow us. That’s what the management ordered. Josh didn’t want it and neither did I but we couldn’t help it. So the guy followed us and in the end even he couldn’t stop the unknown person who took a pic of us again. I checked out Instagram after coming home to the hotel and saw the pic. There were even two pics that showed Josh and me at the cemetery. I found it disgusting that this person pictured us at such a private moment at the grave of my grandma. No one knew how this person could follow us without being seen. But this person must’ve waited at the hotel – undercover – to finally follow us around. Even the security didn’t see this person. So we decided to stay in our hotel until Josh had to leave to get to the venue. I followed him later. After the concert the van drove us back to the hotel and we left the car with our heads covered by sunglasses – although it was night – and our hoods.

The management of the Chilis decided to call the police because it was now a case of stalking. So the police came to our hotel that night and we told them the whole story. Surely, they couldn’t do anything but it was good to know that they were aware of the situation. The management wanted to avoid it that the media would get wind of it but it was too late. The next day a cologne newspaper wrote about the “Stalking case of the Red Hot Chili Peppers guitarist”. Well, yeah.

The day after the concert in Cologne was my last day on this European tour leg so Josh and I had to say goodbye for the next two weeks. Because of the current situation we decided that he wouldn’t accompany me to the airport. So we said goodbye in the hotel room and then I left to catch my flight to LA.

When I sat in the plane I already felt like a cosmopolitan. I traveled to Europe four times in a row in the past five months. It was crazy. I think I never passed the Atlantic Ocean so often in my life.

On the plane I thought a lot about the past two weeks. It was the first time I noticed how hard it is to live in the public space. Since these pics were posted on the internet I even got so many friend requests on Facebook and Instagram because suddenly the people knew my name. Surely all my accounts were private and I didn’t accept any of the requests of people I didn’t know but….it was weird. I wasn’t a person who was famous for doing anything special. I was just Josh’s girlfriend but now people wanted to follow me just to see how my life was like. Just to see if I was posting pics of him and me – which I barely did. Or how often I was accompanying him on tour. I couldn’t get along with it. It just wasn’t my world.

But on the other hand I thought about Josh and how we both acted in the past weeks. First everything was great when we were in Munich and Berlin but then out of a sudden everything changed and I didn’t know why. I really asked myself what went wrong here? Again…

Josh and I avoided each other sometimes. We barely talked. Again, we barely talked. It was just the same damn shit happening like a few weeks ago. I hate it. I was so exhausted of analyzing him and his behavior. Why did he act like this? I didn’t know and I was too tired to ask him again and again, all over again.

This was also the time when I asked myself for the second time in the past months how long I could do this. I think I wasn’t able to live in a relationship where my boyfriend acts happy the one day and is grumpy and avoids me the next day. That’s not a relationship to me. And that was a huge problem for me right now. On the one hand I kind of missed him – but did I really miss him? – and on the other hand I was pleased to fly back to LA because I needed time for my own.

We barely skyped or texted the next following weeks. Josh only sent me some pics from Vienna to show me what he visited there but that’s it. And I didn’t really care. I had to organize my own life. I had some appointments at the university for my upcoming start of my PhD. So I didn’t really care how often Josh and I called or texted each other. But when these two weeks were over and I remembered that he would come back in one day I realized something that scared me: I didn’t really miss him in the last two weeks. I was okay with him being far away. I didn’t even want to know how he was doing. But what did it mean????

When Josh finally arrived back in LA I welcomed him with a short kiss and we had some pasta I cooked for us. That’s it. The next days we spent together but it still felt like we were far away from each other. It felt like I couldn’t reach him anymore. I didn’t know what was going on here but I knew that there was something wrong with us, with our relationship.

One day I woke up and I knew what to do. I finally realized why I felt so bad and tired during the past months. Most of the time it was because of Josh. I was so sick of him not talking to me. Surely we had some great moments together in September and October but that’s it. A relationship that only makes you happy at foreign places far away from home isn’t a good one, right?

So I finally realized what I had to do.

I told Josh that I wanted to talk to him this evening. He came back from a day of rehearsing with the Dots. I saw that he was very tired but when I asked him how he was doing he didn’t say anything except of “Mhmmmm”. That’s what I meant. I couldn’t reach him anymore. So I sat down with him this evening at the end of November and started telling him what I had to tell him. “Josh” I said. “Yes?” he answered looking up from his phone. “I really have to talk to you so can you please put your phone away” “Oh, sure” he said and put it on the table. “So….Josh, please listen” I started saying. “I can’t….” I couldn’t say it out loud. My mind already knew what I would tell him and he was looking at me expecting me to say the things I wanted to say. But I didn’t. “Yes….um, what did you wanted to tell me?” he asked. His arms were crossed. 

And suddenly without thinking about the next steps anymore I said it. 

“I can’t do this anymore”.

“What do you mean?” he asked shocked. “This….all of it….” I said and pointed at us. “You and me. I can’t do it anymore. I’m so sick of trying to reach out to you but you’re not talking anyway. I’m so sick of skyping with you but having the feeling that my boyfriend isn’t really interested in talking to me. I’m sick of planning my life along your tour schedule. Don’t get me wrong, I loved the adventures and journeys with you on tour but I realized that it isn’t my lifestyle. I want my boyfriend to be here in LA. But you won’t be here the next year and I don’t know how I should handle it….” I paused. While I was saying these words I was wondering if I lied to him when I told him a few weeks ago that it’s totally okay that he’s on tour because it’s his job? Did I lie to myself? 

Josh looked at me shocked. “I realized in the past weeks when you were still on the road in Europe that my feelings for you weren’t the same as they were a few months ago. I don’t know what happened but….I didn’t even miss you” I told him. Josh still didn’t say anything. “Josh, please, believe me. This was one of the greatest relationships I’ve ever had. You are such a great man and during our relationship I couldn’t imagine any other guy by my side than you but….my feelings flew away. It just did and I couldn’t control it. I think we should go different ways now….” “How can you say this?” was the first thing he said to me. “How can you say this? I love you and I will always love you….how can you say your feelings are gone?” “I don’t know….I wish I would….but….they just went away” “Eileen….seriously, I can’t understand any of the words you just said. Why do you wanna end our relationship? We were so happy all the time! Don’t you remember the moments we shared in Europe or in Cuba? Don’t you remember what we’ve went through?” “Of course I remember but….I have the feeling that it destroyed our relationship” “Why should it destroy it?” “Because we stopped talking. One year ago we were talking about everything that was going on in our lives but now….look at us, we fight about every little thing. It changed. A lot has changed and I realized that I can’t do this anymore….I just can’t! It burns me out every day” “How can you say this….I can’t believe you do this to me….” Josh seemed very shocked. I didn’t know what to say. “Josh, please believe me. I loved you, I really did. But I realized that my feelings went away.” “Feelings don’t just go away” he argued. “Did you meet any other guy?” “No….I didn’t. It just happened” “Wow, I can’t believe you do this to me….” He repeated. I felt so bad for breaking up with him. He had tears in his eyes and so did I. It was one of the hardest decisions I’ve ever made but if I was honest with myself I wasn’t happy in the last months. The first time I asked myself if I’m still happy was in August….it’s four months ago. I think I had enough time to think about my decision and I did the right thing. I had to end it until it would destroy myself.

“I thought everything’s fine when we were in Europe or in Cuba” Josh said. “Yes Josh, it was fine back then….but what does it mean if we’re only happy when we’re far away from home?” I said with tears in my eyes. “I….I don’t know” he said, his voice was very quiet. “I think we should stop here and go different ways from now on….” I said and got up from the chair. Josh took my hand and looked at me. I knew he wanted convince me to stay but I couldn’t. I had to go. ______

[3one3]

The Sequel - 837

See No Evil

André Schürrle, Juan Mata, other Chelsea/BVB players, and random awesome OC’s (okay they’re less random now but they’re still pretty awesome)

original epic tale

all chapters of The Sequel

“Can you stay until Monday when Schü and Lukas come?”

“Probably. I thought you didn’t want it to be like one guy leaving in a taxi and then the next pulling up?”

“I don’t, but I realized just now that Sunday is our only chance for privacy. We can go out on the water. I hate that I can’t lay on you exactly like this outside because people will see. Seriously, all I’ve wanted to do for weeks is lay on you in the sun.”

“I’ll stay as long as you want, baby girl.”

Christina was fibbing, because she wanted to lie on André in the sun too, but that didn’t seem relevant to the conversation happening in her bed. Both rider and player went below deck to change for their transition from sun bathing to horse show. Player got distracted by cell phone and ended up lying in the middle of the nicely made bed to read his email. Rider got distracted by player in bed and laid flat on top of him in her dainty black bikini instead of getting in the shower to wash away the SPF-30. Her earlier statement would have been completely true if she had edited it to say that she spent the previous three hours wanting to lie on him that way in the sun. She flatted each of her horses first thing in the morning and then returned to the boat to have breakfast with him, ran back to the show to help Stefanie with her class, and then retreated to Lilly XO to pass the time until her own classes. Rider and player passed the time catching rays on the main deck, up in front of the bridge. The marina was packed. There were tons of people out on their own decks, or traveling by on the water taxi, or even jet skis. They were a 30-second walk and one chain link fence from the horse show stabling, and the horse show photographers. They were in Cannes, where celebrity sightings on boats are virtually listed on the attractions signs. Rider and player couldn’t do anything up there at the front of the boat, in the light of day, that friends wouldn’t do.

“I should get up,” Christina observed noncommittally while the Spaniard rubbed her back. She was resting on her elbows and forearms in the middle of his chest, and the stretch in her lower back still felt great even though she’d been in the same position many times topside.

“You should just put the riding pants on with the bikini top. You will win. The guys will have blue balls from watching your breasts bounce around on the horse, and the women will be too jealous to ride well. Or don’t go ride at all. Stay here exactly like this so I can have this view,” Juan suggested as a solution to her problem- her problem being her total lack of motivation to go get on Dirk.

“Yeah?” She looked down at her cleavage and pretended to be surprised that a member of the male species found her breasts appealing when barely covered by some small triangles of fabric and barely supported by some skinny strings. “They look that good in this?” she asked, playing dumb. He nodded from his pillow, and she used her hands to kind of squish her breasts together, still looking down at them. “Do you think the guys would think about, like, kissing them?” Juan nodded again but still didn’t say anything or change the typically warm and friendly expression on his face. He wasn’t emphatic. “Probably sucking on them too, right?” His ex pulled one of those little black triangles to the side and ran her finger over her nipple tentatively, still feigning both ignorance and innocence.

“Yes, I think so.”

“What about...rubbing their dicks in between?” Christina covered her nipple and smooshed both breasts together tight, her chin to her chest so that she could look all the way down at them.

“Sure, of course.” The Chelsea man’s face was beginning to show signs of his being more than just passively listening and watching her game, particularly when her tongue slipped out to wet her lips. She took a second to glance at him, which he didn’t notice at all since his eyes were fixed lower than that, and then tried to lift her right breast up as much as possible.

“Guys like it when girls...lick...their own-“ This is too stupid. I can’t do it, she laughed to herself, practically snorting out loud right as she leaned down to lick herself. Her game was too cheesy even for her, and it was clear she wasn’t going to be able to turn her best friend into some desperate, drooling fool with it. “Okay I’m done,” she announced before unceremoniously heaving herself off his upper body.

“Are you trying to give me blue balls too?” Juan complained, hands out and palms turned up. His posture was still relaxed though. He wasn’t incredulous.

“Yes,” she replied flatly over her shoulder on her way to the shower. I’m not taking clothes with me because it’ll be more fun to traipse around in a towel if he’s still down here when I get out, and it’s impossible to pull breeches onto damp legs anyway. Also, I distinctly remember that the last time I was in London he told me he liked to have to wait to be with me, like having to be around me all night knowing we’re gonna fuck later makes it even better. It’s only 4 now and I won’t be done until at least 10:30 tonight, the reigning Tour Champion smirked at her reflection in the full-length mirror behind the sink. Like its mate in the “hers” bathroom, it continued under the sink and the vanity down to the floor, so she could even see how her shoes looked. It was a thoughtful detail that made her wonder if the designer had shoes in mind or simply interior design style. Regardless, the boat felt homey to her. It didn’t feel like a floating hotel suite anymore. Those were her bathrooms, and it was her bed, and the crew worked for her.

Her shower was brief and the Spaniard was indeed still in the room when she emerged in her towel, but he pretended not to notice her walking around to gather breeches, underwear, her Hermès belt, a sports bra, the correct watch, a fitted black v-neck tee, her gold “You Make Me Happy” pendant necklace, knee-high stockings, the brushes and products necessary to dry her hair, a CWD baseball cap, flip-flops, the barn-access wristband, and her card wallet. Christina thought of each item separately because each one gave her another chance to move about the master stateroom in her butt-skimming towel. The footballer paid her no attention. He was entrenched in his phone. It wasn’t until she was fully dressed and ready to depart that he finally acknowledged her, and that was just to find out what he should wear to the horse show. The slim navy shorts and lightweight chambray button-up he chose were a problem for her. They were perfectly appropriate, weather and occasion-wise. They just made him way too distracting. He looked too cool, especially with his sunglasses and blindingly white sneakers. He was the epitome of hot, wealthy, classy, cool French Riviera Guy. Instead of getting that “I’m here with the hottest guy” feeling she sometimes experienced when she held André’s hand, she felt a kind of anticipatory jealousy. They walked over together with the dogs and Christina wished she could hold his hand, not just because it would be nice but because she could feel as if she were warding off the interest of any other women who found the petit but well defined Chelsea man devastatingly handsome and appealing.

The first class on the 5* agenda was the most difficult of the competition formats for inexperienced spectators, of which there were many in Cannes. Juan needed the detailed explanation too, twice. His sort-of-girlfriend invited him on her course walk in hopes that it would make it more clear. No one looked twice at a non-horse-person trekking along the track with a rider. It was normal, and common. Christina thought twice about it in a roundabout way. She thought about how Tom would have thrown some shade if he were there, and so she was extra glad to have Isandro looking after her horses instead. She was glad to be reunited with her longtime groom anyway. He didn’t tell her what to do, or talk about personal matters. He just took care of the horses and let the rider look after herself. That was a nice alternative after weeks and weeks on the road with her groom/babysitter.

“Okay so this is 7B, which is annoying because the combination is big oxer to boring vertical and it makes the horses go “ahh I have to brake!”, and then- see that tripody thing over there?” The rider with the dog leashes in her hand ducked down some to point between some gold and white striped rails to show her course walk newbie friend what she was talking about. “Once you pass that, the first phase is over and the second one starts simultaneously, if you’ve been clean so far. If you knock anything down or go over the time allowed just in the part with these first 8 fences, then you’re eliminated and you stop after passing through the timers. If you’re clean, you continue and jump the other 5 fences. There’s a buzzer to let you know to stop. It’s all really confusing for everyone because it looks like some people are jumping a different course, and the buzzer is coming at all different times because it’s the same sound to signal you to start, and, yeah. It’s just annoying.”

“It’s not that difficult to understand,” Juan shrugged, his lower lip pushed in and his chin pushed out.

“When I was a kid I got so hung up on getting through the first phase that I often forgot where to go in the second phase. My trainer had to call the jumps to me.”

“That happened to you in Sweden, cariña, Like a couple of months ago.”

“Shhh that’s different! I just thought I was done already. Totally different. Come on guys. More jumps to sniff,” Christina told her terriers. The foursome traveled to each of the remaining 5 fences in very different numbers of steps. The one who would have to travel the route on horseback did it in 3’ strides. The other human just walked normally at her side. Spencer and Lucky had to trot to keep up. They got locked into Christina and Stefanie’s grooming stall when everyone left with Dirk. Something about Cannes made him way naughtier than they could ever be. He was set to follow his first year performance there, with the dropping of his person’s shoe in his water bucket and the dumping of his person into the mud while celebrating, by being a total attention whore.

“Stop hitting me with your head!” she complained to him after the fourth time he interrupted her conversation with Marcus by violently thrusting his face into her back. Isandro went back to the tent to get her bat, so she was holding the horse’s lead. He didn’t like being tethered to someone ignoring him.

“What was I saying?” Marcus asked after the interruption.

“Karen’s horse.”

“Oh yeah. It turns out that Ralph Capristo started him. You bought your nice pony from him, I think?”

“That’s really weird.”

“Why? Did he only do ponies?”

“No I mean it’s weird that you know where I got a pony more than 20- D! Knock it off!” Christina wheeled around and yanked on Dirk’s leather and chain lead when he hit her in the shoulder. “You are such a baby.” The stallion reached for her with his nose. Her free hand was on her hip, so he sniffed at it. He’s literally batting his eyelashes at me right now, she realized, watching his big and soft, brown eyes. He appeared to be begging. “Fine, I’ll pet you.”

“You can’t hold him accountable for anything,” Juan pointed out.

“Dirk gets away with murder. He could eat Lukas and she would give him something for his stomach to help the digestion,” the other rider added.

“Ew.” His young colleague wasn’t going to argue the point though. She was stroking the really soft part of Dirk’s muzzle, on the side, right below the lower part of his figure-eight noseband. Both his German and Argentine grooms used a little baby oil there like lotion or conditioner. His skin felt like a high-end jersey knit pillow case- Christina’s favorite to sleep on.

“The most spoiled animal. Look at him. His eyes are closing. I’m surprised he is willing to walk all the way here from the stall. He probably expects someone to carry him on one of those platforms and fan him with palm leaves.”

“Stop picking on him,” Christina replied to Marcus without looking up from her stallion. He really did appear to be nodding off, or just savoring her relaxing touch. His beautiful and inquisitive head ended up very near to her, and she couldn’t remember if she took a step closer to him or he took one to her.

“I’m going to go ride my horse instead of spoil him.”

“K bye.” My pony deserves to be spoiled. He’s the best there is. “You’re not spoiled. You’re treated just right,” she mumbled quietly once Marcus was gone. Just Juan was left, holding her water bottle. She really appreciated having someone there with her who wasn’t on her payroll or her client list. It was always nice to have someone around who just wanted to support her and experience the event with her. But he was second fiddle to the Holsteiner. Dirk was the best company. He was literally the only “man” in her life who needed her attention and love the way she always craved the attention and love of someone dedicated to her, even before she met someone who fit the bill and before she figured out that that was what had been missing. Dirk loved his person unconditionally. That was the fourth thing Christina knew to be true, even though she told Juan there were only three things. Saying it out loud made it sound like a silly thing, she thought, and to her it was very serious, so she never did.

“I wish I could shrink him down to cuddly toy size for you, or bottle him,” the Spaniard smiled a moment later. His ex zoned out and wasn’t sure how long she’d just been standing there petting the horse. “You could take him everywhere with you and then you would be happy and relaxed wherever you go.”

“Then I couldn’t hug his head.” White shirt be damned, she decided, demonstratively wrapping her arms around her equine partner and his bridle and his ear net. I’m going to put a jacket on over all the black hair anyway.

“I don’t know how you were finding yourself in such difficult situations with him over the winter. He is like Xanax for you.”

“You say that like I’m one of those crazy girls that needs Xanax.”

“I don’t mean to imply that. I just mean...You’re always so happy with him. It’s a beautiful relationship. Look how much he loves you.”

“He just likes shiny things.” Christina rolled her eyes behind her current favorite sunglasses- black metal frame aviators with three little black trademark Givenchy stars in the top corner of each lens. The horse was investigating her belt buckle with his lips while she held onto his long nose. “I like shiny things. My son likes shiny things. My horse likes shiny things.”

“I like shiny trophies. Is there a trophy for this class?” Juan asked when he finally reached out with his hand and his not-shiny leather watch to pat the animal’s forehead.

“I don’t know. Maybe. It’s more like a warm up than a thing that matters, but sometimes everything has a trophy because the class sponsor wants to donate one, or call it a “Blah Blah Blah Cup”.”

“Isandro is back. I don’t see your crop though.”

“It’s probably in his back pocket.”

“Are you going to win the trophy?”

“I dunno, Ask this guy. D-Money, do you feel like winning a trophy?”

“He always feels like winning a trophy,” Isandro supplied upon arriving on the scene. He did in fact have Christina’s little bat in his back pocket, and he presented it to her after tightening Dirk’s girth, taking his scrim sheet off, and throwing her up into the saddle in her helmet instead of her shades. Tom didn’t trust her to remember to bring the bat with her, so he was usually in charge of it. He stuffed it into the pommel of her saddle, or under one of the flaps. The other groom wasn’t aware. It wasn’t a big deal. The rider felt good about everything. It occurred to her that back during the time that Juan referred to, when she had so many troubles in the saddle, even with Dirk, something as little as having her routine interrupted by a missing crop would have truly disrupted her and she might have mentally used it as some kind of excuse to anticipate riding poorly. She still had no idea how exactly she got out of that rut.

With every round she jumped, that rut looked smaller in the rearview mirror. Juan watched her and the Holsteiner stroll through the 1.45m class, in two phases, as if they were simply playing around at home. No hooves, knees, or belly rubbed a rail or plank, and no time was wasted. There was no special prize for their victory. They got a nice ribbon and a neck sash, and the honor of leading the lap of honor, on which Dirk acted like he was getting repeatedly stung by bees. He bucked and hopped around, scooted sideways, and kicked at nothing. The crowd enjoyed his happy antics. He got a frozen chocolate banana for otherwise being a good boy. His rider and her holiday and horse show companion wanted to grab a bite to eat for themselves at Bâoli, a hip and happening spot between the stabling and the stadium, but there wasn’t enough time before the first round of the Global Champions League. Calvin required a long warm up, and Christina said that if she were going to have a meal billed as particularly special, she wanted the ability to indulge and have lots of food and that wouldn’t work if she had to ride immediately after. They had sandwiches in the VIP chalet instead, and then Caesar salad and French fries on the back of the boat later, after the St. Tropez Pirates finished the first part of the Champions League event in third place.

“Don’t let me eat too many delicious waffle fries or I won’t be able to put on the sexy nightgown I intended to bless you with after this,” the Pirate who jumped clean warned. She was sitting Indian-style on a lounger with her salad bowl in one hand and a salty, waffle-cut French fry on her fork in the other. “Well, I’ll be able to. I just won’t want to.”

“What kind of sexy nightgown?” The Spaniard sitting the same way opposite her on the end of the lounger kept his voice low. There was no one around at the rear of any of the neighboring boats, and no one on the paved walkway at the end of their gangplank. Spencer and Lucky where the only ones who could overhear the conversation.  

“It’s actually not that sexy. It’s just that I look sexy in it. And I feel like looking sexy.” Christina was completely nonchalant and carefree about how she spoke, and at what volume.

“Why’s that?”

“I’ve felt pretty good for 36 hours and that hasn’t happened, consecutively, in as long as I can remember. I like to...put my body out there when I feel good.”

“You’re feeling yourself,” Juan smiled, mocking her.

“You’ll be feeling me too.”

“Multiple ways! By the way, this is the best Caesar salad I have ever had. I like your sailboat chef, cariña. I should hire him away for the restaurant.”

“Keep your paws off my chef!”

He smiled again while he was chewing, and shrugged his shoulders unevenly. You know what? He looks happy too. He has his Spain glow and we’re not even in Spain. I wonder if the glow is actually just the Away With Chris glow. I hope it is. I hope I’m the reason he looks as happy as I feel right now, ‘cause I’m pretty sure he’s the reason I feel so happy. I don’t have to think about anything. I get on and ride and it’s like it used to be- no second-guessing, no over-thinking, no trying too hard. The horses aren’t any different than they were. I think they just feel from me- from my hands, and my seat, and my legs- that I’m 100% with-it, there, capable, ready- and so it all just...works. And on top of that, I don’t have the anxiety away from them either. I’m not all, like, consumed with worry about the future, or my relationships. The expat glanced up from her bowl of kale and romaine at the Chelsea man picking through his, perhaps to find croutons. He put a sweatshirt on when they got back to Lilly XO, with athletic shorts instead of the nice ones he had on. His sleeves were pushed up. Christina watched his wrists. I love when the most pressing thing on my mind is containing my thirst. All day long I’m just like, “Gosh, Chris, stop thinking about holding onto one of those gorgeous wrists while his hand is wrapped around your throat. Staaaahp.” That’s how it should be. I hope happiness doesn’t require living on a 56m sailboat docked in one of the most glamorous ports in the world, with ideal daily weather conditions, a personal chef, and my horses sleeping closer to me than they even do at home.

“Hey.”

“What?”

She leaned over the platter of fries between them and tilted her face to the right just enough to avoid smashing him in the nose when her lips caught his completely unaware. She pushed her salty set against his for a second and then endeavored to move them with hers, to open up for her, to make a really gross tasting kiss that she absolutely had to have that very minute. He acquiesced quickly, so he must not have minded the mingling of anchovy, lettuce, and potato from the bites of food they were both enjoying before this emergency kiss that just had to happen.

And a Chelsea player, she added to her list or preconditions for happiness.

[jesusvasser]

The 2019 Audi A7 Sportback Goes to Lüderitz

LÜDERITZ, Namibia — The sat-nav says arrival time 12:53 a.m. The man from Audi advises us not to drive after dark because of wild animals. The photographer says let’s get on with it. My inner voice tells me to believe in the power of laser headlights and night vision, so let the impala and springbok play hide and seek if they want.

On the two-lane N7 highway between Citrusdal, South Africa, just north of Cape Town, to Vioolsdrif at the Namibian border, progress is a matter of attitude, aspiration, and ambition. In addition to being on high alert for any wildlife lurking in the bush, we’re also busy dodging underpaid and overly keen asphalt jockeys in charge of slowly disintegrating tour buses, mirrorless vans on a clock-beating mission, and grotesquely overloaded semis. But thanks to some 39 assistance systems and a switched-on driver who can’t spare a single digit to toy with the seductive, colorful touchscreens, the new 2019 Audi A7 cuts through it all with relative ease. When we hit Klawer, about a quarter of the way to Vioolsdrif, the estimated arrival time has lowered to 12:11 am. We’re making headway.

Our destination is the port of Lüderitz on the Namibian coast, founded in 1883 by settlers from Berlin, Dresden, and Cologne. The A7 Sportback 55 TFSI we’re in is fitted with every conceivable extra and then some. It even features double-glazed glass, multicolor ambient lighting, and intelligent wipers with washer jets focusing on the dirtiest spots. Back-seat magnates like The Donald would undoubtedly appreciate modern conveniences such as Twitter access and the pay TV module; owner-drivers are more likely to applaud the fully automatic parking assistance system, which takes the sting out of hungry curbs and tight entry and exit spirals.

Despite the puzzling 55 TFSI badge, the A7’s base powerplant remains Audi’s 3.0-liter turbo V-6, which now delivers 340 horsepower. It’s been thoroughly modified, feels livelier, and plays a catchier tune. The seven-speed S tronic automatic transmission is really on its toes in Sport mode. Eco efforts include a start-stop system that calls it a day below 15 mph, an efficiency program that cuts the engine between 30 and 100 mph under trailing throttle, and a green lift-off symbol in the instrument binnacle, which suggests that now is the time to take it easy.

It’s not only the 340 hp that gets things done but also the torque curve, which peaks at 369 lb-ft between 1,370 and 4,500 rpm—it is as flat as Cape Town’s famous Table Mountain. The Audi collects further brownie points for its ability to accelerate to 60 mph in an estimated 5.2 seconds, its brisk downshift action, ambitious redline that touches 7,000 rpm, and its aggressively spaced third through fifth gears.

Praise is also due to the air suspension that leans the car ever so slightly into the random gusts of crosswind.

Bureaucracy thrives at the border crossing that separates South Africa from Namibia. We’re in a hurry, but the squadron of uniformed state servants on both sides of the barbed wire evidently has all the time in the world. For no good reason at all, we waste almost an hour filling out forms, waiting for stamps, paying fees, and having the vehicle searched. As a result, our ETA has dropped back. No way are we giving in. So let’s fill up the Ara Blue-sprayed hatchback-coupe and get back after it. We’re going to need to rely on the technical improvements that set the new A7 apart from its predecessor: its piercing matrix-laser headlamps, recalibrated air suspension, and rear-wheel steering chief among them. Having fiddled with Drive Select for the past six hours, the preferred configuration locks the drivetrain in Dynamic while the algorithms looking after steering and chassis are left alone. Above 75 mph, the road-hugging sports pack lowers the ride height by another quarter inch or so.

The final leg of the night stage to Lüderitz goes down in the logbook as a real challenge and an eerie experience. What looks like London fog is actually a proper sandstorm, whipping tall, thin curtains across the road and drowning tire and engine noise in pelting spells that sound like a million needles pitting the paintwork to the primer. The curvy highway is littered with tumbleweed and occasional waves of rock-solid drift sand. It’s a baptism of fire for the A7’s rear-wheel steering, which enhances stability and maneuverability depending on how fast you’re going. Praise is also due to the air suspension, which leans the car ever so slightly into the random gusts of crosswind. Although the broad light cone cast by the matrix-laser wonderbeams could almost touch the horizon on a clear night, we’re limited to low-beams in this tempest.

Helping the cause is Audi’s latest, more fuel-efficient Quattro system—dubbed Ultra—effectively all-wheel drive on demand. Rear-wheel drive only activates to support takeoff traction, cornering grip, and handling bias. Acting progressively and imperceptibly, it engages and disconnects in milliseconds. For enhanced road holding and curb appeal, our test car was fitted with 20-inch wheels shod with 255/40 tires. In the previous A7, this setup in combination with the sport suspension would have smashed a set of false teeth to pieces. The second-generation model, however, has learned to ride more smoothly. Like every Audi, this one is still not pleased with transverse irritations, but it no longer absolutely hates potholes, manhole covers, and railroad crossings. The steel brakes deserve applause for prompt response and efficient deceleration, but it also earns a few scattered boos for elevated pedal pressure, which increases with every repeat high-speed action and is accompanied by a certain sponginess over the final 100 yards or so before the vehicle comes to a full stop.

“No, we don’t have Wi-Fi. Talk to each other!” This sign put up at Giesela’s breakfast station down by the sea is not only a mocking shot across the bow of the Facebook crowd but also confirms in writing that digitalization has not yet fully arrived in Lüderitz. Almost everything related to electricity does in fact move at a different pace in this part of Africa. Filling up the car takes around 10 minutes, the streetlights flicker at night like back in the postwar days, and paying with a credit card only works when a favorable internet wind blows.

We were constantly on guard for African wildlife hiding in the bush, and the new Audi A7’s laser headlights and night vision helped us keep a better eye out.

Architectural gems like Villa Goerke, which looks like something that was helicoptered out of Bavaria and dropped into the rugged desert, dot the landscape. Built in 1909 during the diamond rush, it is now a national historic monument. Then there’s Shark Island, an area that has become prime residential property but used to be a German labor camp where thousands died in the early 1900s. It is a lasting symbol of the numerous atrocities committed against indigenous peoples by the colonial powers.

The Germans, who had claimed large chunks of Africa in 1884’s Berlin Conference, were running the show here.

So although not all of the wounds from those dark days have fully healed, there is a special spirit that has developed among the locals, known as Buchters (Bucht is the German word for bay), who pride themselves on living life to the fullest. Many of them are trilingual, fluent in Afrikaans, German, and English.

The A7 is linguistically even more talented. It speaks more than 15 languages and understands every spoken and written word, although it needs a stable web connection to shine, which is as rare as an ice-cream vendor in this scorching part of the world. But even without car-to-infrastructure intelligence, real-time traffic information, and super-precise HERE maps, the in-dash mix of touchscreens, displays, and buttons is pure sensory overload—a potpourri of recurrent distraction and stubborn, smeary fingerprints. Make no mistake: This is a great-looking, beautifully made, and emphatically modern cockpit. But like in an Airbus A320, you almost need a co-pilot to make full use of the car’s diverse talents.

A short distance from Lüderitz is the ghost town of Kolmannskuppe, a series of buildings fighting a losing battle against sand and wind and time. Kolmannskuppe was built between 1908 and 1910 next to the country’s first diamond mine, which yielded more than 5 million carats of gemstone before World War I broke out. The Germans, who had claimed large chunks of Africa in 1884’s Berlin Conference, were running the show here and in Lüderitz. And what a show it must have been. The largely intact wood-paneled town hall houses a theater, cinema, library, bowling alley, restaurant, bar, and gymnasium.

Perhaps the biggest frivolity was the stone-walled saltwater swimming pool the size of a football stadium, which still caps the hill like an ancient helipad for the gods. A guide named William takes us through the buildings. “Goods were transported by horses, boats, and eventually by rail,” he says. “Round about that time, the diamond barons brought in the first motor cars. When a Mercedes or Rolls broke down, it was simply put away while a new one was ordered. Wealth was unreal in those days.” After a short 17-year boom, the miners moved on, and Kolmannskuppe was abandoned by 1956.

Today’s travelers on African roads don’t have the luxury of waiting months for a new car to replace the old one, let alone hours to fix more than one flat tire or a mechanical fault that grounds the vehicle in the middle of nowhere. Then there’s the worst-case scenario, getting in a crash, since the next hospital is more than likely a long drive or flight away. This creates a lingering inner conflict because on both sides of the Namibian tarmac are some of the best sand roads we’ve ever seen. Wiser men would ignore them. But with ESP turned off, it was slide time.

With exactly 13 minutes to spare, the car finally grinds to a halt at the barrier, brakes sizzling, exhaust crackling.

From one moment to the next, Quattro returns with a vengeance, pushing hard to support the struggling, spinning, scraping front wheels. It takes only a couple of corners to find the right rhythm, to make lift-off action bond with turn-in bite, to play the car with steering and throttle, throttle and steering. Drama can multiply in the even lower-grip zone between sand and gravel, where the car’s attitudes, gestures, and stances match a ballet dancer for elegance in motion.

The Lüderitz, Namibia, locals might not yet have fully embraced technology, but the 2019 Audi A7 provides plenty of it.

We leave Lüderitz midafternoon, forking off toward Rosh Pinah then heading for the border at Oranjemund. It’s a shorter yet slower route on twistier roads with older, sun-bleached surfaces. According to the guide book, the border crossing closes at 8 p.m., and there is no listed accommodation this side of South Africa, so time is once more of the essence. We fire up the afterburner, and two hours later, we know for a fact that the A7 55 TFSI tops out at more than 150 mph.

Even through increasingly tight radii, the car keeps carving with poise, prowess, and panache. There is a blind understanding between the steering angles of all four wheels, and the firm ride still shows mercy, holding the line with singing tires. With exactly 13 minutes to spare, the car finally grinds to a halt at the barrier, brakes sizzling, exhaust crackling. Gimme five, mate. And please ignore the sign on the customs building that reads, “From Feb. 1, 2018, this border is open 24/7.”

2019 Audi A7 Sportback Specifications

ON SALE Fall PRICE $70,000 (base) (est) ENGINE 3.0L DOHC 24-valve turbo V-6/340 hp @ 5,000-6,400 rpm,369 lb-ft @ 1,370-4,500 rpm TRANSMISSION 7-speed automatic LAYOUT 4-door, 5-passenger, front-engine, AWD hatchback EPA MILEAGE N/A L x W x H 195.6 x 75.1 x 56.0 in WHEELBASE 115.2 in WEIGHT 4,001 lb from Performance Junk WP Feed 4 https://ift.tt/2kgMski via IFTTT

[jonathanbelloblog]

The 2019 Audi A7 Sportback Goes to Lüderitz

LÜDERITZ, Namibia — The sat-nav says arrival time 12:53 a.m. The man from Audi advises us not to drive after dark because of wild animals. The photographer says let’s get on with it. My inner voice tells me to believe in the power of laser headlights and night vision, so let the impala and springbok play hide and seek if they want.

On the two-lane N7 highway between Citrusdal, South Africa, just north of Cape Town, to Vioolsdrif at the Namibian border, progress is a matter of attitude, aspiration, and ambition. In addition to being on high alert for any wildlife lurking in the bush, we’re also busy dodging underpaid and overly keen asphalt jockeys in charge of slowly disintegrating tour buses, mirrorless vans on a clock-beating mission, and grotesquely overloaded semis. But thanks to some 39 assistance systems and a switched-on driver who can’t spare a single digit to toy with the seductive, colorful touchscreens, the new 2019 Audi A7 cuts through it all with relative ease. When we hit Klawer, about a quarter of the way to Vioolsdrif, the estimated arrival time has lowered to 12:11 am. We’re making headway.

Our destination is the port of Lüderitz on the Namibian coast, founded in 1883 by settlers from Berlin, Dresden, and Cologne. The A7 Sportback 55 TFSI we’re in is fitted with every conceivable extra and then some. It even features double-glazed glass, multicolor ambient lighting, and intelligent wipers with washer jets focusing on the dirtiest spots. Back-seat magnates like The Donald would undoubtedly appreciate modern conveniences such as Twitter access and the pay TV module; owner-drivers are more likely to applaud the fully automatic parking assistance system, which takes the sting out of hungry curbs and tight entry and exit spirals.

Despite the puzzling 55 TFSI badge, the A7’s base powerplant remains Audi’s 3.0-liter turbo V-6, which now delivers 340 horsepower. It’s been thoroughly modified, feels livelier, and plays a catchier tune. The seven-speed S tronic automatic transmission is really on its toes in Sport mode. Eco efforts include a start-stop system that calls it a day below 15 mph, an efficiency program that cuts the engine between 30 and 100 mph under trailing throttle, and a green lift-off symbol in the instrument binnacle, which suggests that now is the time to take it easy.

It’s not only the 340 hp that gets things done but also the torque curve, which peaks at 369 lb-ft between 1,370 and 4,500 rpm—it is as flat as Cape Town’s famous Table Mountain. The Audi collects further brownie points for its ability to accelerate to 60 mph in an estimated 5.2 seconds, its brisk downshift action, ambitious redline that touches 7,000 rpm, and its aggressively spaced third through fifth gears.

Praise is also due to the air suspension that leans the car ever so slightly into the random gusts of crosswind.

Bureaucracy thrives at the border crossing that separates South Africa from Namibia. We’re in a hurry, but the squadron of uniformed state servants on both sides of the barbed wire evidently has all the time in the world. For no good reason at all, we waste almost an hour filling out forms, waiting for stamps, paying fees, and having the vehicle searched. As a result, our ETA has dropped back. No way are we giving in. So let’s fill up the Ara Blue-sprayed hatchback-coupe and get back after it. We’re going to need to rely on the technical improvements that set the new A7 apart from its predecessor: its piercing matrix-laser headlamps, recalibrated air suspension, and rear-wheel steering chief among them. Having fiddled with Drive Select for the past six hours, the preferred configuration locks the drivetrain in Dynamic while the algorithms looking after steering and chassis are left alone. Above 75 mph, the road-hugging sports pack lowers the ride height by another quarter inch or so.

The final leg of the night stage to Lüderitz goes down in the logbook as a real challenge and an eerie experience. What looks like London fog is actually a proper sandstorm, whipping tall, thin curtains across the road and drowning tire and engine noise in pelting spells that sound like a million needles pitting the paintwork to the primer. The curvy highway is littered with tumbleweed and occasional waves of rock-solid drift sand. It’s a baptism of fire for the A7’s rear-wheel steering, which enhances stability and maneuverability depending on how fast you’re going. Praise is also due to the air suspension, which leans the car ever so slightly into the random gusts of crosswind. Although the broad light cone cast by the matrix-laser wonderbeams could almost touch the horizon on a clear night, we’re limited to low-beams in this tempest.

Helping the cause is Audi’s latest, more fuel-efficient Quattro system—dubbed Ultra—effectively all-wheel drive on demand. Rear-wheel drive only activates to support takeoff traction, cornering grip, and handling bias. Acting progressively and imperceptibly, it engages and disconnects in milliseconds. For enhanced road holding and curb appeal, our test car was fitted with 20-inch wheels shod with 255/40 tires. In the previous A7, this setup in combination with the sport suspension would have smashed a set of false teeth to pieces. The second-generation model, however, has learned to ride more smoothly. Like every Audi, this one is still not pleased with transverse irritations, but it no longer absolutely hates potholes, manhole covers, and railroad crossings. The steel brakes deserve applause for prompt response and efficient deceleration, but it also earns a few scattered boos for elevated pedal pressure, which increases with every repeat high-speed action and is accompanied by a certain sponginess over the final 100 yards or so before the vehicle comes to a full stop.

“No, we don’t have Wi-Fi. Talk to each other!” This sign put up at Giesela’s breakfast station down by the sea is not only a mocking shot across the bow of the Facebook crowd but also confirms in writing that digitalization has not yet fully arrived in Lüderitz. Almost everything related to electricity does in fact move at a different pace in this part of Africa. Filling up the car takes around 10 minutes, the streetlights flicker at night like back in the postwar days, and paying with a credit card only works when a favorable internet wind blows.

We were constantly on guard for African wildlife hiding in the bush, and the new Audi A7’s laser headlights and night vision helped us keep a better eye out.

Architectural gems like Villa Goerke, which looks like something that was helicoptered out of Bavaria and dropped into the rugged desert, dot the landscape. Built in 1909 during the diamond rush, it is now a national historic monument. Then there’s Shark Island, an area that has become prime residential property but used to be a German labor camp where thousands died in the early 1900s. It is a lasting symbol of the numerous atrocities committed against indigenous peoples by the colonial powers.

The Germans, who had claimed large chunks of Africa in 1884’s Berlin Conference, were running the show here.

So although not all of the wounds from those dark days have fully healed, there is a special spirit that has developed among the locals, known as Buchters (Bucht is the German word for bay), who pride themselves on living life to the fullest. Many of them are trilingual, fluent in Afrikaans, German, and English.

The A7 is linguistically even more talented. It speaks more than 15 languages and understands every spoken and written word, although it needs a stable web connection to shine, which is as rare as an ice-cream vendor in this scorching part of the world. But even without car-to-infrastructure intelligence, real-time traffic information, and super-precise HERE maps, the in-dash mix of touchscreens, displays, and buttons is pure sensory overload—a potpourri of recurrent distraction and stubborn, smeary fingerprints. Make no mistake: This is a great-looking, beautifully made, and emphatically modern cockpit. But like in an Airbus A320, you almost need a co-pilot to make full use of the car’s diverse talents.

A short distance from Lüderitz is the ghost town of Kolmannskuppe, a series of buildings fighting a losing battle against sand and wind and time. Kolmannskuppe was built between 1908 and 1910 next to the country’s first diamond mine, which yielded more than 5 million carats of gemstone before World War I broke out. The Germans, who had claimed large chunks of Africa in 1884’s Berlin Conference, were running the show here and in Lüderitz. And what a show it must have been. The largely intact wood-paneled town hall houses a theater, cinema, library, bowling alley, restaurant, bar, and gymnasium.

Perhaps the biggest frivolity was the stone-walled saltwater swimming pool the size of a football stadium, which still caps the hill like an ancient helipad for the gods. A guide named William takes us through the buildings. “Goods were transported by horses, boats, and eventually by rail,” he says. “Round about that time, the diamond barons brought in the first motor cars. When a Mercedes or Rolls broke down, it was simply put away while a new one was ordered. Wealth was unreal in those days.” After a short 17-year boom, the miners moved on, and Kolmannskuppe was abandoned by 1956.

Today’s travelers on African roads don’t have the luxury of waiting months for a new car to replace the old one, let alone hours to fix more than one flat tire or a mechanical fault that grounds the vehicle in the middle of nowhere. Then there’s the worst-case scenario, getting in a crash, since the next hospital is more than likely a long drive or flight away. This creates a lingering inner conflict because on both sides of the Namibian tarmac are some of the best sand roads we’ve ever seen. Wiser men would ignore them. But with ESP turned off, it was slide time.

With exactly 13 minutes to spare, the car finally grinds to a halt at the barrier, brakes sizzling, exhaust crackling.

From one moment to the next, Quattro returns with a vengeance, pushing hard to support the struggling, spinning, scraping front wheels. It takes only a couple of corners to find the right rhythm, to make lift-off action bond with turn-in bite, to play the car with steering and throttle, throttle and steering. Drama can multiply in the even lower-grip zone between sand and gravel, where the car’s attitudes, gestures, and stances match a ballet dancer for elegance in motion.

The Lüderitz, Namibia, locals might not yet have fully embraced technology, but the 2019 Audi A7 provides plenty of it.

We leave Lüderitz midafternoon, forking off toward Rosh Pinah then heading for the border at Oranjemund. It’s a shorter yet slower route on twistier roads with older, sun-bleached surfaces. According to the guide book, the border crossing closes at 8 p.m., and there is no listed accommodation this side of South Africa, so time is once more of the essence. We fire up the afterburner, and two hours later, we know for a fact that the A7 55 TFSI tops out at more than 150 mph.

Even through increasingly tight radii, the car keeps carving with poise, prowess, and panache. There is a blind understanding between the steering angles of all four wheels, and the firm ride still shows mercy, holding the line with singing tires. With exactly 13 minutes to spare, the car finally grinds to a halt at the barrier, brakes sizzling, exhaust crackling. Gimme five, mate. And please ignore the sign on the customs building that reads, “From Feb. 1, 2018, this border is open 24/7.”

2019 Audi A7 Sportback Specifications

ON SALE Fall PRICE $70,000 (base) (est) ENGINE 3.0L DOHC 24-valve turbo V-6/340 hp @ 5,000-6,400 rpm,369 lb-ft @ 1,370-4,500 rpm TRANSMISSION 7-speed automatic LAYOUT 4-door, 5-passenger, front-engine, AWD hatchback EPA MILEAGE N/A L x W x H 195.6 x 75.1 x 56.0 in WHEELBASE 115.2 in WEIGHT 4,001 lb from Performance Junk Blogger Feed 4 https://ift.tt/2kgMski via IFTTT

[eddiejpoplar]

The 2019 Audi A7 Sportback Goes to Lüderitz

LÜDERITZ, Namibia — The sat-nav says arrival time 12:53 a.m. The man from Audi advises us not to drive after dark because of wild animals. The photographer says let’s get on with it. My inner voice tells me to believe in the power of laser headlights and night vision, so let the impala and springbok play hide and seek if they want.

On the two-lane N7 highway between Citrusdal, South Africa, just north of Cape Town, to Vioolsdrif at the Namibian border, progress is a matter of attitude, aspiration, and ambition. In addition to being on high alert for any wildlife lurking in the bush, we’re also busy dodging underpaid and overly keen asphalt jockeys in charge of slowly disintegrating tour buses, mirrorless vans on a clock-beating mission, and grotesquely overloaded semis. But thanks to some 39 assistance systems and a switched-on driver who can’t spare a single digit to toy with the seductive, colorful touchscreens, the new 2019 Audi A7 cuts through it all with relative ease. When we hit Klawer, about a quarter of the way to Vioolsdrif, the estimated arrival time has lowered to 12:11 am. We’re making headway.

Our destination is the port of Lüderitz on the Namibian coast, founded in 1883 by settlers from Berlin, Dresden, and Cologne. The A7 Sportback 55 TFSI we’re in is fitted with every conceivable extra and then some. It even features double-glazed glass, multicolor ambient lighting, and intelligent wipers with washer jets focusing on the dirtiest spots. Back-seat magnates like The Donald would undoubtedly appreciate modern conveniences such as Twitter access and the pay TV module; owner-drivers are more likely to applaud the fully automatic parking assistance system, which takes the sting out of hungry curbs and tight entry and exit spirals.

Despite the puzzling 55 TFSI badge, the A7’s base powerplant remains Audi’s 3.0-liter turbo V-6, which now delivers 340 horsepower. It’s been thoroughly modified, feels livelier, and plays a catchier tune. The seven-speed S tronic automatic transmission is really on its toes in Sport mode. Eco efforts include a start-stop system that calls it a day below 15 mph, an efficiency program that cuts the engine between 30 and 100 mph under trailing throttle, and a green lift-off symbol in the instrument binnacle, which suggests that now is the time to take it easy.

It’s not only the 340 hp that gets things done but also the torque curve, which peaks at 369 lb-ft between 1,370 and 4,500 rpm—it is as flat as Cape Town’s famous Table Mountain. The Audi collects further brownie points for its ability to accelerate to 60 mph in an estimated 5.2 seconds, its brisk downshift action, ambitious redline that touches 7,000 rpm, and its aggressively spaced third through fifth gears.

Praise is also due to the air suspension that leans the car ever so slightly into the random gusts of crosswind.

Bureaucracy thrives at the border crossing that separates South Africa from Namibia. We’re in a hurry, but the squadron of uniformed state servants on both sides of the barbed wire evidently has all the time in the world. For no good reason at all, we waste almost an hour filling out forms, waiting for stamps, paying fees, and having the vehicle searched. As a result, our ETA has dropped back. No way are we giving in. So let’s fill up the Ara Blue-sprayed hatchback-coupe and get back after it. We’re going to need to rely on the technical improvements that set the new A7 apart from its predecessor: its piercing matrix-laser headlamps, recalibrated air suspension, and rear-wheel steering chief among them. Having fiddled with Drive Select for the past six hours, the preferred configuration locks the drivetrain in Dynamic while the algorithms looking after steering and chassis are left alone. Above 75 mph, the road-hugging sports pack lowers the ride height by another quarter inch or so.

The final leg of the night stage to Lüderitz goes down in the logbook as a real challenge and an eerie experience. What looks like London fog is actually a proper sandstorm, whipping tall, thin curtains across the road and drowning tire and engine noise in pelting spells that sound like a million needles pitting the paintwork to the primer. The curvy highway is littered with tumbleweed and occasional waves of rock-solid drift sand. It’s a baptism of fire for the A7’s rear-wheel steering, which enhances stability and maneuverability depending on how fast you’re going. Praise is also due to the air suspension, which leans the car ever so slightly into the random gusts of crosswind. Although the broad light cone cast by the matrix-laser wonderbeams could almost touch the horizon on a clear night, we’re limited to low-beams in this tempest.

Helping the cause is Audi’s latest, more fuel-efficient Quattro system—dubbed Ultra—effectively all-wheel drive on demand. Rear-wheel drive only activates to support takeoff traction, cornering grip, and handling bias. Acting progressively and imperceptibly, it engages and disconnects in milliseconds. For enhanced road holding and curb appeal, our test car was fitted with 20-inch wheels shod with 255/40 tires. In the previous A7, this setup in combination with the sport suspension would have smashed a set of false teeth to pieces. The second-generation model, however, has learned to ride more smoothly. Like every Audi, this one is still not pleased with transverse irritations, but it no longer absolutely hates potholes, manhole covers, and railroad crossings. The steel brakes deserve applause for prompt response and efficient deceleration, but it also earns a few scattered boos for elevated pedal pressure, which increases with every repeat high-speed action and is accompanied by a certain sponginess over the final 100 yards or so before the vehicle comes to a full stop.

“No, we don’t have Wi-Fi. Talk to each other!” This sign put up at Giesela’s breakfast station down by the sea is not only a mocking shot across the bow of the Facebook crowd but also confirms in writing that digitalization has not yet fully arrived in Lüderitz. Almost everything related to electricity does in fact move at a different pace in this part of Africa. Filling up the car takes around 10 minutes, the streetlights flicker at night like back in the postwar days, and paying with a credit card only works when a favorable internet wind blows.

We were constantly on guard for African wildlife hiding in the bush, and the new Audi A7’s laser headlights and night vision helped us keep a better eye out.

Architectural gems like Villa Goerke, which looks like something that was helicoptered out of Bavaria and dropped into the rugged desert, dot the landscape. Built in 1909 during the diamond rush, it is now a national historic monument. Then there’s Shark Island, an area that has become prime residential property but used to be a German labor camp where thousands died in the early 1900s. It is a lasting symbol of the numerous atrocities committed against indigenous peoples by the colonial powers.

The Germans, who had claimed large chunks of Africa in 1884’s Berlin Conference, were running the show here.

So although not all of the wounds from those dark days have fully healed, there is a special spirit that has developed among the locals, known as Buchters (Bucht is the German word for bay), who pride themselves on living life to the fullest. Many of them are trilingual, fluent in Afrikaans, German, and English.

The A7 is linguistically even more talented. It speaks more than 15 languages and understands every spoken and written word, although it needs a stable web connection to shine, which is as rare as an ice-cream vendor in this scorching part of the world. But even without car-to-infrastructure intelligence, real-time traffic information, and super-precise HERE maps, the in-dash mix of touchscreens, displays, and buttons is pure sensory overload—a potpourri of recurrent distraction and stubborn, smeary fingerprints. Make no mistake: This is a great-looking, beautifully made, and emphatically modern cockpit. But like in an Airbus A320, you almost need a co-pilot to make full use of the car’s diverse talents.

A short distance from Lüderitz is the ghost town of Kolmannskuppe, a series of buildings fighting a losing battle against sand and wind and time. Kolmannskuppe was built between 1908 and 1910 next to the country’s first diamond mine, which yielded more than 5 million carats of gemstone before World War I broke out. The Germans, who had claimed large chunks of Africa in 1884’s Berlin Conference, were running the show here and in Lüderitz. And what a show it must have been. The largely intact wood-paneled town hall houses a theater, cinema, library, bowling alley, restaurant, bar, and gymnasium.

Perhaps the biggest frivolity was the stone-walled saltwater swimming pool the size of a football stadium, which still caps the hill like an ancient helipad for the gods. A guide named William takes us through the buildings. “Goods were transported by horses, boats, and eventually by rail,” he says. “Round about that time, the diamond barons brought in the first motor cars. When a Mercedes or Rolls broke down, it was simply put away while a new one was ordered. Wealth was unreal in those days.” After a short 17-year boom, the miners moved on, and Kolmannskuppe was abandoned by 1956.

Today’s travelers on African roads don’t have the luxury of waiting months for a new car to replace the old one, let alone hours to fix more than one flat tire or a mechanical fault that grounds the vehicle in the middle of nowhere. Then there’s the worst-case scenario, getting in a crash, since the next hospital is more than likely a long drive or flight away. This creates a lingering inner conflict because on both sides of the Namibian tarmac are some of the best sand roads we’ve ever seen. Wiser men would ignore them. But with ESP turned off, it was slide time.

With exactly 13 minutes to spare, the car finally grinds to a halt at the barrier, brakes sizzling, exhaust crackling.

From one moment to the next, Quattro returns with a vengeance, pushing hard to support the struggling, spinning, scraping front wheels. It takes only a couple of corners to find the right rhythm, to make lift-off action bond with turn-in bite, to play the car with steering and throttle, throttle and steering. Drama can multiply in the even lower-grip zone between sand and gravel, where the car’s attitudes, gestures, and stances match a ballet dancer for elegance in motion.

The Lüderitz, Namibia, locals might not yet have fully embraced technology, but the 2019 Audi A7 provides plenty of it.

We leave Lüderitz midafternoon, forking off toward Rosh Pinah then heading for the border at Oranjemund. It’s a shorter yet slower route on twistier roads with older, sun-bleached surfaces. According to the guide book, the border crossing closes at 8 p.m., and there is no listed accommodation this side of South Africa, so time is once more of the essence. We fire up the afterburner, and two hours later, we know for a fact that the A7 55 TFSI tops out at more than 150 mph.

Even through increasingly tight radii, the car keeps carving with poise, prowess, and panache. There is a blind understanding between the steering angles of all four wheels, and the firm ride still shows mercy, holding the line with singing tires. With exactly 13 minutes to spare, the car finally grinds to a halt at the barrier, brakes sizzling, exhaust crackling. Gimme five, mate. And please ignore the sign on the customs building that reads, “From Feb. 1, 2018, this border is open 24/7.”

2019 Audi A7 Sportback Specifications

ON SALE Fall PRICE $70,000 (base) (est) ENGINE 3.0L DOHC 24-valve turbo V-6/340 hp @ 5,000-6,400 rpm,369 lb-ft @ 1,370-4,500 rpm TRANSMISSION 7-speed automatic LAYOUT 4-door, 5-passenger, front-engine, AWD hatchback EPA MILEAGE N/A L x W x H 195.6 x 75.1 x 56.0 in WHEELBASE 115.2 in WEIGHT 4,001 lb from Performance Junk Blogger 6 https://ift.tt/2kgMski via IFTTT