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| Drifting into Deep Waters; Prequel to Moon Tears | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: February 2, 2012, 4:20 pm (7,282 Views) | |
| Lucifer's Angel | May 28, 2012, 5:33 pm Post #121 |
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Heavy Metal Seanchai
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Chapter 46 The group walked away from the house still in a state of shock, unable to say anything as they tried to digest all this information. Jordan wordlessly took the key from his pocket and opened the doors of the Navigator as they all went back inside, starting the engine and backing away from the house and driving back towards the road. "This feels like some fucked-up dream, did we just imagine everything?", he wondered aloud. "Non, Jordan. I believe it, for some reason. I can't believe this guy is my dad, but I believe it", murmured Kris. "Yeah, that's your dad. And I am going to have one helluva story to tell my brothers when we get back", said Jordan grimly. They drove back towards the ferry port in Channel aux Basques were the ferry was just beginning to load passengers, getting back on the massive boat as it took on cars and passengers on their way to Cape Breton Island and Nova Scotia. Marie sat down in a deck chair and checked out the documents in the folder Helgi had given her, nodding. "We have everything in here and it looks legitimate", she said. "Good, it hard to get into Russia without the right papers, they just put you in prison then. This is craziest thing I ever do", said Evgeni. "What about the time you dressed up like a 70's pimp at our team Halloween party?", teased Kris. "I have got to see this", said Ellen dryly. Evgeni blushed. "Da, I dress like that for team Halloween party. It was Max's idea, he got himself the big pimp suit with the fur coat and the hat and everything. I not doing that again", he chuckled. "How long until we get to this Tunguska place in Russia?", asked Jordan. "Very long trip, Tunguska in Siberia and there are no roads up there. You take this river ferry in Krasnoyarsk up the Yenitsey and it take you there, but that is like boonies. That was a good place for the meteor to strike", he chuckled. "Oui, mon ami Russe. I looked it up when I saw the video for All Nightmare Long, it was some type of explosion in the area and it killed a bunch of trees and there was some weird blue light and a lot of radioactive activity. Some scientists don't think it was a real meteor, there's all these weird ideas floating around saying it was an alien spaceship or some crude bomb. But the meteor one sounds the best", said Kris thoughtfully. "Cool, I was wondering what the spores and the zombies were about when I saw that video. But how do we get to this Krasnoyarsk place?", asked Jordan. "It not some place, it big city in Siberia. And we take the train, the planes in Russia are no good and they crash a lot, trains don't crash and are safer", said Evgeni. "Okay, and how long does it take to get there?", retorted Jordan. "About a week on train, we have to take several trains", said Evgeni as the group looked horrified. "Fuck, that sucks. Is there anything cool to see?", asked Jordan. "Once we get into Siberia, it flat and boring and there a lot of trees and no cities. I know, when I played in Super League, we play a lot of games against other cities in Siberia. They all boring and ugly, but there a lot of bars", he chuckled. "Oh well, we can always get drunk in that place. And how do we get into Russia in the first place?", asked Jordan. "We take the Eurostar from London across the Channel and go across through the Low Countries and Germany. How do you want to approach Russia?", asked Ellen. "We go through Estonia and St. Petersburg, I don't want to go to Moscow. My parents live there and I don't want them knowing I am in Russia", he replied. "Good idea, Geno", said Kris as the others nodded. The ride to Halifax once they docked in Cape Breton took less than an hour as Jordan followed the signs to the city's modest international airport on the outskirts of the suburbs. He parked it in the long term lot as they walked over to the small international terminal, unable to stop his laughter at the idea of his car being in long-term parking. " I do not want to see what the bill is going to be when we get back", he joked. Kris pretended to swat his head as they entered the terminal, checking in their bags and going through security as a bored-looking guard barely seemed to notice them. Their British Airways flight to London Heathrow was about to board and they were quickly escorted to first class as the rest of the passengers made their way inside, the grounds crew loading all the bags inside the plane. "We can spend a bit of time in London, I haven't been there in years and it's a bloody marvelous city", said Ellen with a chuckle. "But aren't the Scots enemies of the English?", asked Marie. "Only in footie, that was hundreds of years ago. Us Scots beat them at Bannockburn and they never forgot it", she chuckled. "Huh, what's that?", asked Jordan. "Jordan, did you take history in high school?", retorted Kris. "Just Canadian history, our history sucks. What happened?", he asked. "The Battle of Bannockburn was when Robert Bruce and the Scottish army defeated King Edward of England and stopped them from conquering Scotland, we beat the bloody Sassenachs good. That's what Flower of Scotland is about", said Ellen proudly. "Okay, I know that song, that was played at the Burns' Night dance. You have a lot of pride, Ellen", said Evgeni admiringly. Ellen chuckled as she leaned across the seat and kissed his cheek. "Thank you, Zhenya. Now we await are adventure", she said dryly as the flight attendant closed the doors and flight safety video played. The plane landed at Heathrow almost six hours later as it taxied towards the gate. "Lucky Da maintains a flat in South Kensington and we don't need to pay for a hotel, it's a lovely area", said Ellen as the plane came to a stop. "What is that?", asked Marie. "South Kensington and Chelsea and Knightsbridge are some of the poshest addresses in London, a lot of rich Scottish people have flats here for business reasons. Da maintains a flat in London and that's where we stay when we are here, otherwise we would have to rent a hotel room. He also has another flat in Edinburgh and another in Inverness near the Sutherland estate", she replied. They quickly went through customs and followed Ellen as she led them towards the adjacent Tube station, watching as she purchased Oyster cards from a machine and handed one to each. "These have ten trips on them, you add more from the machine when they're used up", she explained as she led them towards the Piccadilly Line. "We would be totally lost without you", teased Kris. "Aye, I ken. I have the keys to the flat, just make yourselves at home", she said as the Tube train pulled into the station. The car was half full with various travelers just landed at the airport as the doors closed and it pulled out of the station. It was not unlike a subway in New York but considerably cleaner with virtually no sounds coming from the other passengers, many of them either reading newspapers or magazines or listening to music on their ubiquitous Ipods. An hour later they arrived in South Kensington as Ellen led them out of the car and up the escalator towards above ground. South Kensington was slightly less rich than neighboring Belgravia and Chelsea but it was clearly one of the more affluent areas of London with its handsome Georgian and Victorian buildings, well-dressed good-looking people who looked as though they could be nobility and upmarket department stores guarded by liveried doormen. The group followed Ellen as she led them towards the building where her father owned a flat; even in jeans and a Hank III t-shirt she exuded a sort of class and dignity that made her fit right in here. The building was one of the numerous handsome Georgian apartment buildings that had been built for the wealthy members of the merchant class and titled nobility back in the Hanoverian dynasty, five storeys high with a facade of white marble that looked as though it had been sculpted by hand and bordered by meticulous flower beds with white and pink roses in bloom, the door guarded by a middle-aged man in a maroon uniform and matching gold-braided hat. "Hello, Miss Sutherland. We were expecting you, come right in", he said in a slight Cockney accent. "Aye, thank you, Mr. Samuels", she said graciously as she led them inside. The lobby of the building was sumptuous like a fancy hotel, the carpet of dark wine-colored carpets with cream marble walls and matching wine-colored velvet draped furniture and real potted plants. She led them towards the elevator as it made a soft ding, getting inside and pressing the button for the fifth floor. The lobby of the floor was the same as the one downstairs, minus the plants. "There's two other flats on this floor, and it's really posh people so we canna party too much", she laughed. Ellen stopped in front of a door and took out the key as she led them inside, turning on the light. The flat was quite big, more like a penthouse suite than most other apartments. It consisted of a large parlor with a big plasma TV mounted on the wall with a Blu-Ray player and a large stereo system and Ipod deck with state-of-the-art speakers, a kitchen and three large bedrooms all with king-sized beds with their own bathrooms. The decor was in dark green with cream trim, the carpets recently vacuumed and the whole place cleaned just that morning as they looked about in awe. "I told you Da had a flat", she giggled. "This is a penthouse, I was expecting a normal apartment", said Kris. Ellen just laughed. "Of course not, Kris. You know Da is rich, this is nothing compared to the house back in Pittsburgh", she giggled. Evgeni could only nod as he looked around the parlor. "My parents apartment in Moscow is not as big as this, and it is a big one. How much is this?", he asked. "He bought it for five hundred thousand pounds back in the 70's, it's worth nearly two million now. But you canna beat having a place like this in London", she replied. "Ellen, I think Geno is about to faint", teased Jordan. "I fine, this is just nice place", he muttered, blushing. "Why don't we go and rest up, we'll go out for dinner later", said Ellen. Evgeni gave her a grateful look as she led him towards their room. The room was larger than some people's apartments, dominated by a king-sized canopy bed with a dark brown quilt and matching canopy with a plush cream carpet on the floor and forest green wallpaper. Several paintings in frames hung on the walls, a few of them portraits while others were landscapes. "Who is that?", he asked, pointing to a portrait on the wall. It was a portrait of a young man in a Sutherland tartan kilt and plaid draped around his shoulders, a matching tam o'shanter on his light brown hair and a sword sheathed at his side in a scabbard. "That is my cousin Ian Sutherland, the previous Duke of Sutherland. His son Keith is the current Duke of Sutherland", she explained. "Looks like we are both royalty", he teased. "Aye, you are a Romanov and I am a Sutherland, funny how that works out. And this is a landscape of the area near our family's castle", she said, gesturing to another painting on the walls. It portrayed a castle on a bluff with a stormy sky overhead, the skies looking as though it was about to have a big storm. The area was heavily wooded with a village at the base of the castle, the whole area seemingly stuck in a time warp. "This is how the area looked a hundred years ago, it's more modern now", she said with a little laugh. "This area remind me of St. Petersburg, when I played in Super League we played them a lot. There are a lot of big fancy buildings of flats like this and palaces that belonged to the czars, a lot of museums like Hermitage and fancy shops. We go to Russia by St. Petersburg, I don't want my parents to find us", he said, frowning. Ellen sat down on the bed and gave him a hug, running her fingers through his thick wavy dark hair. "I ken, but it's for the best. But you have got to show us about St. Petersburg then", she teased. "I show you around a bit, when I played in Super League my favorite places to play were Piter and Tallinn in Estonia, both nice cities. Estonia too small to have it own league, it join Super League", he explained. "I see, it is a small country. But what other places did you go?", she asked. Evgeni chuckled as he laid down on the bed with his head in her lap, an amused look in his dark eyes. "Da, we go to lot of places. Moscow of course, but also places like Novgorod, Kazan, Volgograd, Kiev, Odessa, and places in Siberia. Siberia cities not that good, ugly places like Novosibirsk and Omsk and even Vladivostok. They very ugly places, just big tower blocks and dirty. Only good thing about them was there were a lot of bars", he said with a grimace. "But if we are going to this Tunguska place, we will have to travel through those cities", she said thoughtfully. "Da, ya paneymat. But we going to be on train most of the time, I show you how to go on the train", he replied. "And I will teach you how to use the Tube and drink warm beer", she teased. "Warm beer disgusting, that no way to drink beer", he said, making a face. "That's how they do it in Britain, we don't drink cold Budweiser like Yanks", she laughed. "What is there to see in London?", he asked. "Are you bloody kidding me, there's a ton of things to do in London. There's the palaces and the Tower and all sorts of museums and whatnot, anything at all. I would recommend the Tower for the history and the Tate Museums or the Victoria and Albert museums for the art, but stay away from Madame Tussaud's, 'tis bloody naff", she said dismissively. "That the wax museum? Kris and me go to the one in New York, it very stupid and it full of little kids", he snorted. "That's why it's naff", she said dryly. That evening, they were at Henry J Beans on King's Road. The building was part indoor pub and part outdoor beer garden with a canopy that could be installed when it rained to protect the patrons, each section with large bars serving various kinds of beer and wine and some whiskies. The group was seated at one of the outdoor tables as the sun began to set over London, the air still warm and carrying the scent of cigarette smoke as someone furtively smoked a cigarette in a corner. A wooden bandshell had a string quartet playing a soft classical tune as waiters in black pants and red waistcoats flitted around the tables serving drinks and meals. "Da and I always come here when we're in London, 'tis not a fancy place. There's a lot of very posh places here and in Chelsea and Knightsbridge that make you feel like an idiot if you canna pronounce the name of the wine properly", said Ellen as the waiter set down their beers, Fullers Extra Strength Bitters for the men, a Black and Tan for Ellen and a Lager and Black for Marie, all of them in thick glass mugs with dimples surfaces and a handle. "What's that and why is it purple?", asked Jordan as he took a large swallow of his beer. "It's a Lager and Black, it's beer and a bit of blackcurrant cordial for taste, that's why it's purple", said Marie as she took a sip. "Of course, your old man is a bartender. This is pretty good, the only British beer I ever had was Newcastle", said Jordan. "Newcastle is good, but Carling is crap, but everyone drinks it. I reckon it's like Budweiser, that is the worst bloody beer ever", said Ellen, making a face. "Je sais, Budweiser is awful but Papa has some at his bar because someone always asks for it. And you can't get a buzz until you have drunk at least two of them", said Marie as she glanced down at the menu. "What do you want to do tomorrow?", asked Kris. "Anything except Madame Tussaud's or Buckingham Palace, tourists bloody love that. Madame Tussaud's is a ripoff, unless you want to get your picture taken with the Beatles or Posh and Becks. And Buckingham Palace is overrated, I took the tour with Da when I was a tot and it's not very impressive. It looks like a bleedin' chocolate box inside, all velvet and fripperies and all that. And you don't even get to see where the Queen lives, 'tis a bloody ripoff. I would recommend the Tower and some of the museums, like the Tate ones or the V&A or the Imperial War Museum if you like that sort of thing. Just go on Google, you will find something you like", said Ellen. "The Tower sounds good, that sounds like the Kremlin in Moscow, but the Kremlin is a lot bigger. They have big museum with all the diamonds and jewels of the czars and huge bell and Lenin's tomb, very big but we not going to Moscow", said Evgeni. "Lenin's the mummy dude, was he the president or something?", asked Jordan as he drank more beer. "Vous etes tres bete, mon ami Nederlandais. He was the first leader of the Soviet Union after the overthrow of the czars, that's why he's a mummy", said Kris as Jordan blushed. "Hey, we didn't study Russian history in high school", he retorted. "I not study Canadian history so we even", teased Evgeni. "Anything good to eat here?", asked Kris. "The Shepherd's pie is good and so is the bangers and mash, the roast platter is good too. They have burgers and chips too, but since we are in England, we ought to do as the English do", she teased. "Okay, but what is that?", asked Evgeni. "A Shepherd's pie is a meat pie with mashed potatoes that's been baked, bangers and mash is sausage and mashed potatoes and the roast platter is roast beef or chicken with mashed potatoes, vegetables and a Yorkshire pudding. They're all good", she said as the waiter came to take their orders. The following morning the group was waiting outside the gates of the Tower of London waiting for it to open, the crowd consisting mainly of American and European tourists busy taking pictures much to the annoyance of the few British people in attendance. The castle gates open as the crowd of people went straight to the ticket booth, the line moving slowly as people bought their tickets. "That will be one hundred and five pounds, miss", said the clerk as Ellen handed over her credit card and took the tickets. "I'll be the guide, otherwise you'll be stuck with a bunch of Yanks asking silly questions", said Ellen. "What kind of questions?", asked Marie. "Silly things, like if Anne Boleyn and Catharine Howard were sisters and if the Princes in the Tower were their children, bloody stupid things like that. And of course it's always Yanks who ask those questions, I learned this in school", said Ellen. "Yeah, Henry couldn't keep his pants on", said Kris dryly. "Anne was second wife and Catharine was fifth wife, correct? Henry was like our Ivan the Terrible, he married a lot of times and was not nice man either, a lot of people in Russia no like him much either", said Evgeni dryly. "Aye, Anne Boleyn was the second wife and Catharine Howard was the fifth wife. It wasn't Anne's fault she had a girl and then miscarried a boy, but the girl did grow up to be Elizabeth I so that turned out well, I suppose. Catharine was always my favorite of his wives, she was such a silly chit. She was married to the king and she was carrying on with her cousin Thomas Culpeper and Francis Dereham, she got caught and was executed. I don't blame her, but she should have been more discreet about that", said Ellen. "So this Catharine chick was messing around on the king, stupid bitch? Bet he was getting some on the side too", laughed Jordan. "Aye, but 'tis always the woman's fault", said Ellen dryly. The first stop was the armor exhibit on loan from the Royal Armoury, the exhibit mostly for young boys and antiquarians looking at ancient metal armor. The armor ranged from medieval armor with chain mail to slightly more modern armor with elaborate designs and lighter so they could mount a horse with ease, even a set of armor for a young squire and a pair of antique dueling pistols. "How they hell can you fight wearing this shit?", muttered Jordan, reading a sign that a particular suit weighed up to a hundred kilograms. "On a horse with a lance, Jordan. That was the point", said Ellen. There was a special exhibition on ghosts of the Tower as they went to take a look. It consisted of dioramas showing the unfortunate prisoners of the Tower and how they were executed and how their ghosts might haunt the Tower, along with mentions of sightings. "Aye, figures a place a like this would have a lot of ghosts", said Ellen thoughtfully. "Like the two boys?", asked Marie. "Aye, the Princes in the Tower. For the record, Richard had them killed, just my opinion", said Ellen. "Maybe, he doesn't come off too good in Shakespeare", said Kris. "Why were they killed?", asked Evgeni. "They were Edward V and Richard Duke of York, they were in Richard's custody when they disappeared. He probably had them killed so they wouldn't be a threat to him being the king, he was a ruthless bastard", said Ellen. "Then I don't like him", said Evgeni in disgust. |
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| The Cosmic Gerbil | May 29, 2012, 3:40 pm Post #122 |
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Forbidden Forest Ranger
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I remember hearing about the Princes in the Tower when I was a kid...that was very sad ![]() I think it would be difficult to wear that heavy armour that Jordan saw
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| Lucifer's Angel | May 29, 2012, 4:17 pm Post #123 |
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Heavy Metal Seanchai
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Chapter 48 "Shit, how come it takes two days to get to Russia but longer than that to get to Tunguska?", asked Jordan as they prepared to board the Eurostar train to St. Pancras station in London. "Because European trains are good and fast, trains in Russia going to Siberia can be crap and slow. Plus, we have to take a river ferry to Tunguska from Krasnoyarsk, that take another ten hours. This going to be like big adventure, see it that way", said Evgeni. "Geno's right, mon ami Neerlandais. We have to change in Brussels and then keep on going, maybe we can take a bit of off-time before we keep going. And perhaps we can stop for a few days in St. Petersburg", said Kris. "Aye, and have a care for us ladies, we are not used to traveling like this", said Ellen. "Da, Ellen. Piter very big, very exciting city, lot of stuff. And once we go to Siberia, it is very empty, not much to do or see. But we cannot see my parents, they will want to come along and have us go to Magnitogorsk to see my relatives", said Evgeni with a frown. Ellen gave him a hug. "'Tis bad, but we canna let them know. We have quite the adventure to do", said Ellen with a grim smile ![]() The group boarded the Eurostar as the sleek modern train prepared to leave for Brussels. Fifteen minutes later, the train's sharp whistle pierced the air as it pulled out of the station, quickly leaving the city behind. The sprawling suburbs of London passed by in the windows as the train sped through the North Downs and further into Kent. It passed neat little country towns and fruit orchards and farms with ripening crops, the very epitome of the pleasant middle class Home Counties. The train went through the Chunnel and emerged at Calais in northern France, stopping briefly at the station before resuming its journey. The journey through northern France went through a dull landscape that resembled East Anglia across the channel, low and flat with gray skies above. The towns were all alike, factories and concrete and tower blocks that were nothing like the verdant sunny south of France. Even the people were different, many of them tall, ruddy and fair like their Norman and Flemish ancestors and speaking with accents that many in the rest of the county sneered at, more akin to the accents found in Quebec and New Brunswick than anywhere else in France: Barely two and a half hours after departing London, the Eurostar pulled into Garu du Midi station. "We got three hours to kill, let's grab something to eat and maybe look around", said Kris. "What do you want? Anyplace with beer sounds good", said Evgeni. "Geno, we are in Belgium, they make righteous brews here", said Jordan, clapping the big Russian on the back. Marie took out her phone and did a quick search. "There's a place called Delirium nearby, we'll go there", she said: ![]() The bags were transferred to another train as Marie led them out of the station. The station was located near central Brussels, handsome 15th century buildings a lovely backdrop to the vendors selling everything from organic flowers and produce, handmade crafts and clothes and jewelry alongside various sundry junk. The Delirium was a modest two-story building made of black wood with a swing sign depicting the Belgian royal coat of arms. Inside it was dimly lit by candles inside glass lamps and waitresses in frilly outfits which vaguely resembled French maids outfits serving big mugs of beer, a jukebox in the corner playing Oh Marie by Johnny Hallyday: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PkjcmrnzW_Y Oh Marie si tu savais Tout le mal que l'on me fait Oh Marie si je pouvais Dans tes bras nus me reposer Evanouie mon innocence Tu étais pour moi ma dernière chance Peu à peu tu disparais Malgré mes efforts désespérés Et rien ne sera jamais plus pareil J'ai vu plus d'horreurs que de merveilles Les hommes sont devenus fous à lier Je donnerai tout pour oublier Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh Marie si tu savais Tout le mal que l'on me fait Oh Marie si je pouvais Dans tes bras nus me reposer Et je cours toute la journée Sans savoir où je vais Dans le bruit, dans la fumée Je vois des ombres s'entretuer Demain ce sera le grand jour Il faudra faire preuve de bravoure Monter au front, en première ligne Oh Marie je t'en prie fait moi un signe Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Allongé dans l'herbe, je m'eveille J'ai vu la mort dans son plus simple appareil Elle m'a promis des vacances La mort m'a promis sa dernière danse Oh Marie si tu savais Tout le mal que l'on m'a fait Oh Marie j'attendrai Qu'au ciel tu viennes me retrouver, Oh Marie j'attendrai Qu'au ciel tu viennes me retrouver "Mademoiselle, cinque bierres de Duvel", Kris told the waitress. "Duvel is a very good beer", said Marie approvingly. "Aye, too bad we can't try that beer that's made by monks. That is supposed to be really strong", said Ellen as the waitress carried a tray with the beers over to the table. "Do you have any idea what this stuff is? At least the beer is good", said Jordan as he had a generous swallow of Duvel. "Belgian food is good, it's like French food but there's more of it. The steak and fries are always good, any Belgian place does that good", said Kris. "Is Hamburg the place with all the hookers, that should be awesome", said Jordan with a wicked gleam in his blue eyes. "Jordan, lucky you are friend or else I kick your ass. That no place to take girls", said Evgeni with a dirty look. "Vous et un garcon mal, Jordan. If you do go, don't tell your mother", said Kris dryly as the waitress came to take their orders. The group lingered over a second round of beers as Marie got up from the booth and walked over to the jukebox, inserting a Euro coin in to the machine as it played Ne Me Quitte Pas by Jacques Brel: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aNkydsPK6ww Ne me quitte pas Il faut oublier Tout peut s'oublier Qui s'enfuit deja Oublier le temps Des malentendus Et le temps perdu A savoir comment Oublier ces heures Qui tuaient parfois A coups de pourquoi Le coeur du bonheure Ne me quitte pas (4 fois) Moi je t'offrirai Des perles du pluie Venues de pays Ou il ne pleut pas Je creuserai la terre Jusqu'apres ma mort Pour couvrir ton corps D'or et de lumiere Je ferai un domaine Ou l'amour sera roi Ou l'amour sera loi Ou tu seras reine Ne me quitte pas (4 fois) Ne me quitte pas Je t'inventerai Des mots insensés Que tu comprendras Je te parlerai De ces amants là Qui ont vu deux fois Leurs coeurs s'embraser Je te racont'rai L'histoire de ce roi Mort de n'avoir pas Pu te rencontrer Ne me quitte pas (4 fois) On a vu souvent Rejaillir le feu De l'ancien volcan Qu'on croyait trop vieux Il est paraît-il Des terres brûlées Donnant plus de blé Qu'un meilleur avril Et quand vient le soir Pour qu'un ciel flamboie Le rouge et le noir Ne s'épousent-ils pas Ne me quitte pas (4 fois) Ne me quitte pas Je ne veux plus pleurer Je ne veux plus parler Je me cacherai là A te regarder Danser et sourire Et à t'écouter Chanter et puis rire Laisse-moi devenir L'ombre de ton ombre L'ombre de ta main L'ombre de ton chien Ne me quitte pas (4 fois) "My father has some of his albums on the jukebox", said Marie. "Tres bien, ma fill pays", said Kris, putting an arm around her shoulder and kissing her cheek. "Get a room, guys", teased Jordan. Barely an hour later, they were back on the train on its way through the Low Countries on its way towards Amsterdamn, where they quickly caught another train to Hamburg. The Low Countries were aptly named as they were flat and low-lying as the train went near the coast, just flat fields and mud flats and more lakes than anywhere. The scenery had put most of the train to sleep as the passengers endured the ride on their way to their destination. Hamburg came as a quite a surprise after the flatness of Lower Saxony in northern Germany, an extension of the marshy parts of Friesland and Groningen in the Netherlands. The majestic port city on the Elbe was a huge place ringed by dull suburbs found in any other city, the downtown area containing every sort of ship imaginable. Enormous cranes the size of dinosaurs lifted cargo from equally enormous ships next to the ferries both domestic and international, alongside yachts and other pleasure craft. The train pulled into the station as they took their bags and Marie checked the address on her phone. "We take the underground train to the St. Pauli stop and our hotel is the Kogge on Landigsbruken", she read aloud. They followed her towards a staircase with a big U sign as she bought tickets from a machine, heading downstairs to the train platform. This subway was far nicer than anything found in many parts of the states, the platform immaculate with no stray garbage whatsoever or graffiti. There was a slight breeze coming from the direction of the tunnel as the train approached, coming to a stop as the passengers stepped inside. "Let's go rest up", said Kris when he saw Marie looked exhausted, getting the keys from the desk clerk after they had checked in. "We'll see you guys later", said Jordan as he left with Evgeni and Ellen. Barely a block from the hotel was the Reeperbahn, the infamous red-light district of Hamburg. At first glance, the street looked rather plain and normal with no signs or indications of what was inside the buildings. A closer glance revealed the small neon signs and discreet signage in German, many of them regular nightclubs and bars. Further down the street at the very end was a wall that blocked off the rest of the area, signs in English and German saying it was off-limits to women and anyone under 18. "We are having a show tonight, half-price drinks", said a young woman outside one of the clubs. She was nearly six feet tall with short black hair cut in a bob and icy blue eyes that looked like contacts, her ample figure in a tight black vinyl corset and black fishnet stockings with stiletto boots on her feet. "What kind of show, baby?", drawled Jordan, his eyes fixated on her generous cleavage. "It is audience participation, anyone can join in. It is a lot of fun", she replied enigmatically. "Okay, that sound interesting", said Evgeni as they followed the woman inside. The interior of the club was very dark with only a few torches on the walls providing light and a DJ in a booth spinning ambient music. A few small round tables were arranged in a horseshoe around the stage while an adjacent bar served drinks the arriving patrons. While many of the customers looked normal, some of them wore latex and various fetish gear with a few gay and lesbian couples amongst them. The music changed to fast and furious techno as the emcee of the club stepped onstage, everyone turning to face him. He was a tall, thin, rather androgynous looking man with long straight dyed black hair, wearing a black top hat and a white-buttoned down shirt combined with tight shorts, the whole outfit making him looking like a cross between a Chippendales dancer and a demented carnival barker. "Meine Damen und Herren, herzlich willkommen auf unserer schönsten Show. Ich wünsche Ihnen allen viel Spaß damit", he said as waitresses in tight black and white lace corsets poured everyone a generous amount of absinthe, each table containing a small jug of water and a slotted spoon and a tiny tray of miniature sugar cubes. "What this?", asked Evgeni, looking at the cup dubiously. "It's absinthe, you add a bit of water and sugar to make it turn color. But be careful, it is quite strong", said Ellen. They watched as she placed one of the cubes on a spoon and added a bit of water, using the spoon to add the cube as it rapidly dissolved. The absinthe turned a lurid greenish-yellow with the water, the drink the color of neon or radioactive waste with an eerie glow. The men followed suit as they cautiously drank it, the potent drink having a slow burning effect a a very strong bittersweet licorice taste. "This is some freaky-ass stuff, you sure this shit is legal?", asked Jordan, making a face after drinking it. "Aye, 'tis legal but you have to be careful", said Ellen as she sipped her drink. The loud techno music was muted slightly as two women in black tights and black and white corsets came onstage, both of them looking right out of Cabaret. Both women did a sort of stylized waltz with very sharp movements, their steps as formal as a tango. They paused for a second in mid-step as one of the women kissed the other, the audience watching in rapt attention. Everyone was silent as the two women continued kissing and touching each other, gradually removing each others clothing. Jordan watched with unblinking eyes at the scene in front of him, feeling as though he was watching a porno except this was real. The women were now naked and in a 69 as they pleasured each other, the audience still like statues. When they finished and walked offstage, the emcee came back on stage with a mocking grin on his face and doffed his hat to the crowd. "Meine Damen und Herren, wenn jemand will mitmachen, mein Gast zu sein", he murmured smoothly. Jordan looked over and saw that Ellen and Evgeni had gotten up to leave, both of them blushing furiously. He gave them a cocky smile and waved goodbye as he got up from the table and walked over to the stage... |
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| The Cosmic Gerbil | May 30, 2012, 5:16 pm Post #124 |
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Forbidden Forest Ranger
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Absinthe...I like that I want to ride on one of those fast trains too
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| Lucifer's Angel | May 30, 2012, 5:39 pm Post #125 |
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Heavy Metal Seanchai
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Chapter 49 "What the hell did you guys do last night?", asked Kris, seeing that Jordan had spent most of the ferry ride from Germany fast asleep on his deck chair and Ellen and Evgeni couldn't stop giggling. "We went to an audience participation show, Kris. You and Marie ought to try it sometimes", teased Ellen as Marie tried not to laugh. Kris just shrugged as he watched Tallinn come into view. The Estonian capital was in the sights of the massive ferry as it carefully maneuvered into the harbor, the castles and churches of Toompea hill looking down at the newer sections of the city. The brilliant blue skies had barely had a cloud as seagulls flew overhead, the blue, black and white Estonian flag waving proudly from the mast. The voyage from Hamburg had taken nearly six hours across the Baltic under cloudless skies, many of their fellow passengers Germans on a cheap trip to Estonia ![]() The ferry docked at Passenger Port as the passengers started to leave. "Sit up, Jordan. We're leaving the ship", said Kris as shook his shoulder. "What the fuck, Tanger? Where's the hotel?", he muttered. "We are not staying at a hotel, we're leaving on the train tonight and leaving the bags at the train station locker", replied Marie. "Fuck, just get me a coffee", he mumbled. Kris gave him a look as they went to a bank in the harbor to exchange money. "We are leaving tonight for Russia, how much Estonian money do we need?", he asked. "I would somewhere between 300 and 500 krooni, and we can also exchange for rubles if you want. I'm afraid the maximum amount of rubles you can exchange is about 62,000, about 3000 American dollars. When you are in Russia, you can exchange more at a bank", said the teller behind the window. "Okay, we'll need 500 krooni and 62,000 rubles", said Kris as he handed over all the Euros and the rest in Canadian and American money. The teller's eyes widened a fraction when he quickly counted the money and converted it all. He handed Kris 10 50-krooni notes and the rubles, the money all in different colors and not unlike Canadian money. Kris divided the money and handed everyone an equal share. "Thank you, sir", he said as they left the bank. "How much money is that?", asked Jordan. "How much money is that?", asked Jordan. "100 krooni and about 1200 rubles, you divide money and place them in different pockets so you not lose money if you robbed", said Evgeni. "Damn, I think we're loaded. Now what?", he asked. "I play exhibition game in Tallinn when I used to play with Metallurg, very nice. You have to see Kadriorg, that is the palace Peter built for his queen Catherine. She was from Estonia, very good lady", said Evgeni. "You mean Peter the Great?", asked Ellen. Evgeni nodded, a proud look on his face. "Da, he very great czar. He won a lot of wars with Sweden and built St. Petersburg, when we go there you have to see the big palaces and churches and museums. Moscow not as grand, Piter like European city. Catherine was a peasant girl and she his mistress, nobody tell him what to do", he chuckled. "Awesome, Geno. How do we get there?", asked Jordan. "We take bus there", he replied as the first went to the train station to place their bags in a locker. The bus stopped a few minutes later as they paid the fare and found empty seats. The ride took them from the city out past the dull concrete suburbs of the city and stopped just outside Kadriorg, the aptly named Catherine's Park. Acres of planted trees and perfectly manicured gardens surrounded a man-made landscape of lakes teeming with swans and lilypads, statuary, large houses incongruously called cottages and finally Kadriorg Palace itself. The park was full of families and tourists enjoying the sunshine and warm weather, swans in the lakes eying the humans with barely any interest. ![]() ![]() ![]() The centerpiece of the park was Kadriorg Palace, the imposing handsome structure fit for Peter's consort. The palace was in warm pinkish-red brick the color of salmon with white gingerbread stucco trim, surrounded by elaborately designed garden mazes that not would not look out of place in an English manor house. Marble fountains carved with dolphins and cherubs bubbled merrily as a few children dipped their feet in the cool waters, watched over by their parents. Inside the palace it was just as elaborate like a miniature Versailles. It seemed that Peter had spared no expense, everything with as much gold, marble and expensive furnishings and artwork as anyone could possible want. "Tres magnifique, but it's too much", said Marie, shaking her head. "Oui, je sais. Geno, this is really over the top stuff", said Kris, seeing a dining room with gold plates and cutlery and golden everything else. "Da, but he was czar, nobody tell him that. Ever our family did not live like that, back before the Communists. Some of the palaces near Piter make this look like nothing", he chuckled. "Think of it as a warmup, this trip is only nine hours. The train from all the way to Krasnoyarsk is almost three days. And we have to stop a few times, otherwise we go crazy", said Evgeni. Jordan tried to digest this information as he sat on the bunk. "Shit, how long are we going to stop for? We'll be so fucking dirty by the time we get there", he muttered. "We stop at Yekaterinburg, Novosibirsk, then we end up in Krasnoyarsk. It is a nonstop from Moscow to Yekaterinburg, we have to change in Moscow for that train but it only take an hour", said Evgeni. "Isn't that where the czar and his family were killed?", asked Ellen. "Da, by stupid Communist cowards. They told family they were going somewhere and kill them all, even the children and the servants. The family all saints now, the church make them saints. Very bad time in history", he replied sadly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you", she murmured. "It okay, Russian history not nice. Lucky my family got away from that", he said. Kris placed the last bag under the bunk and reached up to pull a cord to turn on a light. The sleeping berth on the overnight train to St. Petersburg was a private one with four bunks against the walls and an ancient white plastic portable TV with a built-in VCR. The walls of the berth were painted a dull lemon yellow and peeling at the edges, the only light coming from a naked bulb on the ceiling. Each bunk came with a flat pillow stuffed with cotton and a much-washed beige sheet made of coarse cotton that used to be white, smelling of harsh lye soap but at least clean. Marie opened the flimsy draped and glanced outside. It was late at night with the sky an inky blue-black above Tallinn, the train sitting on the platform as the passengers boarded. "We leave in then minutes, then we go straight to the hotel. What should we see in the city, Geno?", asked Kris. "St. Petersburg is just as great as Moscow, Kris. There are a lot of palaces for the czars and of course the Hermitage, that the big musem with all the art. Then we ought to see some of the palaces like Peterhof or Tsarkoe Selo, they are quite grand. I do want to see if I can find my ancestors' house, they lived in the city and they were rich merchants. That is the one who was mistress to Alexander III, that is how my family end up in nowhere. Now it cool to say your people were nobles, not when Communists ran everything", said Evgeni. "Geez, all my family are just farmers, dude. They're farmers in Canada and I bet they were farmers back in the Netherlands. I don't think there's any nobles or wizards in my family", laughed Jordan. "Very funny, mon ami Neerlandais. At least you are tall and blond and good-looking, that ought to count for something", teased Kris. The train's whistle went off several times as the passengers scrambled aboard, the doors shutting closed as it slowly pulled out of the station. Evgeni turned on the TV and adjusted the antenna until a clear picture came through, showing a news broadcast in Estonian. He frowned and opened a small cabinet under the TV to display a small stack of VHS tapes. "These all in Russian, but they have Rambo II, Predator, Jason Takes Manhattan and Return of Chucky. What you want to see?", he asked. "Someone's got weird taste in movies. I want to see Predator", said Kris. "Okay, that's awesome. I love that movie, it's awesome seeing Arnold and Jesse Ventura blow up shit", said Jordan with a laugh. Kris chuckled as he took the tape from its box and inserted it into the slot as the FBI warning flashed onscreen. Everyone settled into watch the movie, the cheesy 80's action film with the group of soldiers led by Arnold Schwarzenegger and his machine-gun toting gang blowing up aliens and enemy soldiers. The film was profoundly stupid, Arnold and his friends shooting huge guns in the jungle amidst corny dialogue and the Predator itself was just a guy in rubber suit with a cheap lazer gun. "Dude, Arnold is the man", said Jordan reverently. "That is the dumbest movie ever, Jordan. And you canna legally buy a gun like that", chided Ellen. "I know, but it would be badass to own something like that and shoot aliens", he chuckled. |
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| The Cosmic Gerbil | June 3, 2012, 5:36 pm Post #126 |
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Forbidden Forest Ranger
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Hehe, I remember seeing Predator...it's a good film I do like the piccies so much, especially the one with the flower garden in They all look so beautiful...I would love to visit places like that
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| Lucifer's Angel | June 3, 2012, 8:18 pm Post #127 |
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Heavy Metal Seanchai
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Chapter 50 The light streamed in through the windows as the train pulled into Vitebsky station in St. Petersburg. The car was silent except for few quite snores, the murmur of the train wheels on the tracks barely heard inside. Jordan stirred from his position on the top bunk as he slowly opened his eyes, yawning as he glanced around. He chuckled softly when he saw Kris and Marie and Evgeni and Ellen all asleep, carefully using the cold metal ladder to climb down from the top bunk. "Guys, we're here", he said. "Oh yeah, I see. We get up now", said Evgeni sleepily as the started waking up. The train came to a stop as there was a sharp knock on the door. A heavyset middle-aged woman in a sacklike brown dress with an apron over her ample belly said something in Russian as Evgeni nodded, handing her a tip as she went to the other cars. "That is the provodnitsa, she in charge of the train. She keep everything clean and check tickets and wake you up, you nice to her the trip is easier", he explained. "Okay, good to know. How far is the hotel?", asked Kris as he got the bags from underneath the bunk. "It only a few stops on the Metro from here, we near Pushkinskaya and we take train to Vladimirskaya. The Metro is fast and good, we be there quick", he said reassuringly. Jordan and Kris took the bags out of the train and followed him as he led them to the nearest Metro stop. The train station felt deserted except for their train and its arrivals, brilliant sunlight coming through the windows. The Metro station was immaculate and decorated with attractive paintings depicting local landscapes and colorful modern art, a cast of its namesake Alexander Pushkin resting peacefully near the escalator. The passengers waiting on the platform barely glanced at them as Evgeni bought tickets from a machine, a distant whistle alerting them of the train's arrival. The Metro train approached the platform as everyone came closer, gradually coming to a stop as the doors opened and everyone got on board. The car was half-full and Evgeni was glad he had remembeed to don a plain black baseball cap and sunglasses as he didn't want to have anyone recognize him, the doors closing as as the train pulled away from the platform. The train arrived at the Vladimirskaya station barely ten minutes later as they got off, following Evgeni as he led them up the escalator to the street. The darkness and cool air of the Metro barely prepared them for the bright sunlight and crowds of people aboveground, feeling not unlike Manhattan. The area had an odd combination of galleries and lofts that displayed modern art and the artists who lived there, along with several churches and religious buildings. One of the older and most striking sights was the magnificent Vladimirskaya Church with its brilliant golden onion domes topping a white and yellow marble exterior directly across the street from a modern glass and steel hotel tower right next to a gigantic shopping mall that would not be out of place in suburban New Jersey. The mall appeared to take up an entire city block with windows displaying the latest fashions and obscenely expensive jewelry, far more suited to midtown Manhattan than Russia. ![]() ![]() "I got to take a picture of this", said Kris as he took a quick pic with his phone. "That is a bloody big mall, but we are staying at the hotel?", asked Ellen. "Da, Hugo smart man. It is convenient to everything", said Evgeni dryly as Kris chuckled. They quickly checked in and went upstairs as Evgeni and Ellen stayed in one room with Kris, Marie and Jordan sharing a double due to a game of rock, paper, scissors the night before. "If you guys want to get busy, I'll have to crash in Geno's room", laughed Jordan. "Very funny, mon ami Neerlandais. What do you feel like doing?", asked Kris as he stuck the bags inside the closet. "Sleeping, it's hard to sleep on that train. We can explore tomorrow", said Jordan. Kris and Marie had to laugh when thy saw the Jordan could barely fit on the bed, his feet dangling over the sides. "At least this bed isn't moving, Jordan. We ought to rest first, tomorrow we can do some exploring", he agreed. Later that night the group was Gaiboedov, the club having been recommended by Evgeni as he had been there with Metallurg back in the day. It was converted from a bomb shelter built back in the Soviet days under Stalin, a massive underground room that took up nearly a city block and almost full. The decor was a sort of 80's industrial chic with bare gray walls festooned with gaudy posters advertising pop concerts and several metal catwalks overhead that led to various rooms. The state-of-the-art PA blared loud Russian techno as the dancers grooved on the floor, the long bar taking up a whole wall busy with bartenders pouring shots. "I come here with Metallurg, a lot of fun. Not my music but when you drink it sound good", said Evgeni as he the waiter came by with a bottle of blackberry Stoli and five shot glasses. "Geno, this music sucks", said Jordan. "Da, but that for dancing, not listening. Besides, there a lot of hot girls here", he teased as he poured everyone a shot. "He's right, Jordan. Just get in the right frame of mind", said Kris as they all clinked glasses and drank their shots. Marie carefully sipped at her vodka and watched as the men and Ellen just chugged it right down. "It a Russian thing, the men do it in shots and the women sip it. My father and his brothers drink a bottle of Stoli in one night, but that is a country Russian thing", he explained. "Then what do people in Moscow do?", asked Ellen, raising an eyebrow. "They no drink like that, they fancy people", he said dismissively. After a few more shots, everyone was feeling pretty good and headed onto the dance floor. While Kris and Marie and Evgeni and Ellen danced with each other, Jordan found himself dancing by himself as the vodka was now starting to kick in. "Privet, kak vayaryut gleadeytey?", asked a brunette girl in a red minidress and matching heels. She was tall and slim with her dark brown hair in a sleek bob and her brown eyes outlined by thick black kohl, her full lips painted fire-engine red. "Privet, I'm Jordan and I don't speak Russian. I'm just a dumb Canuck", he laughed. "Da, you look Russian, Jordan. I am Elena", she said, speaking slowly with a heavy accent. "Wow, never had anyone say I look Russian before. I'm Jordan Staal, let's dance", he said as she just laughed. The loudspeakers played a Russian rap song loud enough to make the walls shake as she led him in dancing, the vodka soon taking hold as they started grinding against each other. Kris tried not to laugh and Evgeni gave him a thumbs up when they saw the couple, the PA still playing rap loud enough to deafen most people. "Jordan, are you on holiday?", she asked. "Yeah, I'm with some friends", he replied. "Piter is a wonderful city, but I have to leave tomorrow", she replied. "That sucks, where are you from?", he asked. "I'm from Gatchina which is south of here. In fact, I should be going", she said as she left the dance floor. "Looks like tonight isn't your lucky night, Jordy", said Kris, clapping him on the back as the big blond just glared. "Wait until you see the palaces at the Pushkin complex, they make Versailles or Buckingham Palace look little", said Evgeni proudly as they waited to board the train to Pushkin outside the city. "I bet they are posh, the castles of the Scottish kings in Edinburgh are all right, but I suppose Russians do things bigger", teased Ellen. "We don't have anything like this in Canada at all, I saw the Parliament buildings when my class went to Ottawa on a field trip in seventh grade and I thought it was cool, but this better be awesome, Geno", teased Jordan. The suburban train pulled up at the platform as he led them onboard, the attendant checking the tickets. It was a smaller train that serviced the huge, sprawling suburbs of St. Petersburg, most of the other passengers older people and families with kids on their way to country as Evgeni found them an empty row of seats in the back. The train pulled out of the station and made a few more stops in the city before leaving it behind, the enormous concrete suburbs around the city an ugly contrast to the graceful Italianate city and capital of Imperial Russia. Once they left the suburbs, however, the green forests and open spaces of the countryside took over as the train sped through the countryside. In the distance they could see the wide Gulf of Finland surrounded by rocky shores and pine forests with tiny little dachas scattered about like dominoes and even people swimming in the water, as many families in the city had dachas out here. The train arrived at the Imperial village of Pushkin almost an hour later as half the train got off. About a hundred yards away from the station they could see the Alexander Palace as it loomed over them like some mythical beast, the massive palace surrounded by immaculately planted gardens and part of a complex of other palaces that showed the immense wealth of the czars. "Alexander Palace is the big one, but they have other ones too", he explained as he bought them tickets for the complex. A van stopped at the curb as they boarded, once it was full they were led towards the entrance of the palace. Up close, it was even more impressive and grand, much bigger than a British manor house or any sort of mansion built by a Vanderbilt or a Rockefeller. The palace was surrounded by trees and fronted by a lake with fountains and swans swimming amongst them, the soft murmur of falling water like pleasant music. The front gardens were immaculate with all sorts of flowers in bloom growing in order amongst bushes and hedgerows and various marble birdbaths, a small bandshell shaped like a miniature Roman temple in the middle. Inside the palace, it was as grand as Evgeni said as everyone tried not to gawk. The front hall was immense and colorful with a vaulted roof shaped like an arch and done in cream and red with marble floors and walls and a ceiling depicting a fresco of a pastoral scene not unlike a chapel, velvet and silk drapes in dark red covering huge windows. Bronzed columns made of marble supported the entrances and all the furniture was velvet and silk and satin, a small table made of polished mahogany and shimmering glass containing a vase with a red silk rose, the elegant vase a perfect compliment to the grandiosity of the foyer. ![]() Next door was the Mountain Hall, so called for the massive wooden slide off to one side. This was the playroom of the Imperial children, containing the slide, a cabinet with board games, a pump organ, and even a miniature car for Tsarevich Alexey, Nicholas' unfortunate hemophiliac son and last heir of the Romanovs. ![]() The adjacent Portrait hall looked not unlike the Hall of Mirrors of Versailles with its elegance and mirrors along with all the portraits of the Imperial family. The walls were covered in cream and gold wallpaper and the furniture was all done in sky-blue silks and satins with gold trim, the chairs and sofas as bright and colorful as though they were made yesterday. On the walls were were portraits of the Romanovs dating back to the reign of Peter the Great going by order, many of them making the czars look almost giant and superhuman and their consorts breathtakingly beautiful. ![]() "Who is this?", asked Ellen, standing in front of a portrait towards the far end. It was a painting of young boy about ten years old wearing a military uniform with a sash around his waist and gleaming brass buttons on his coat. He was small for his age and had sandy blond hair slicked down and blue eyes, a serious, solemn look on his face. One of his arms was straight at his side and the other rested on a table covered with a white tablecloth, his black velvet hat trimmed with a black feather resting on the adjacent chair. ![]() "That is Tsarevich Alexey, the son of Nicholas II and last Romanov heir. He was youngest of the children and the only boy, he have four older sisters. He was supposed to be next czar because he the boy, his sisters could not rule unless something happen to him. He had blood disease and he was always sick", said Evgeni. "He had hemophilia, correct? Poor boy", said Marie sadly. "Da, he bleed all the time for anything, he always sick. But the czar not let anyone except family doctors know, he not want the Russian people to know his son was sick like that. That why Czarina Alexandra like Rasputin, he crazy man but he seem to make Alexey not bleed so much. Maybe he did, I not a doctor. But Rasputin was crazy and he gave the czar bad advice after seeing visions, that is why he was killed by nobles. They poison him, they stab and shoot him and they throw him in freezing river, he drowns", said Evgeni with a bitter laugh. "And what about the girls?", asked Ellen. "Nicholas and Alexandra have four older daughter, Olga, Tatiana, Maria and Anastasia. They could not rule because they have Alexey, if something happen to him Olga would have been Czarina after her father. They good girls and nice, the older girls volunteer as nurses during the war and were good at it. When they had to flee to Yekaterinburg, that bastard Yurovsky had them all go into the basement in their nice clothes and tell them they were going on trip. Instead, him and the other bastards shot them all and dumped bodies in a cave with acid, so no one recognize them. The men were mad because he say earlier they can rape the girls and then kill them, they no like the girls dead. The bodies found years ago and it is them, they all saints now", said Evgeni with a grim little smile. "Geno, that is fucking evil", said Jordan with a shudder. "Da, but most Russian history is not nice. Lucky my family get away from that mess, very, very bad time in history", he replied with a grimace. |
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| The Cosmic Gerbil | June 4, 2012, 5:41 pm Post #128 |
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Forbidden Forest Ranger
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Poor girls, that is horrible that they were murdered that way That is so sad about the little boy having hemophilia too I do like the piccies that you have put in though...they are very beautiful
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| Lucifer's Angel | June 4, 2012, 7:12 pm Post #129 |
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Heavy Metal Seanchai
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Chapter 51 "This train trip better be worth it, I still can't believe its going to be nearly a week to get to that Tunguska place", said Jordan as they prepared to board the train at Ladoyhsky Station. "Da, but flying in Russia not good idea, especially if you go really east. The train is much safer, and we got good 2nd class berth", said Evgeni as he led them aboard. The train was similar to the one from Estonia but slightly older and the seats a bit worn but clean. Beyond the seating area were the sleeping cars with the nicer ones in the middle, the cheaper 3rd and 4th class compartments towards the end. The provodnitsa in charge of the train barely glanced at them as she checked their tickets, the stout middle-aged woman with a beehive hairdo colored a vivid crimson, giving off the aura of a marine drill sergeant. "That is the provodnitsa, she in charge of the train and keep it clean and nice. She not mean, but she doesn't like mess or noise", said Evgeni as he opened the door of their berth. "I can tell", said Kris dryly. Marie opened one of the bags and arranged the toiletries neatly on a shelf next to the tiny bathroom. The berth was just like the one on the Estonian train, two berths on either side with a fold-out table in the middle and a similar cheap white miniature TV with built-in DVD and an adjacent stack of DVD's. Ellen glanced outside and saw the sun was about to set as it was very nearly eight that evening, a wry smile on her lips. "I suppose it's appropriate", she chuckled. Kris nodded in agreement as he looked through the DVD's, frowning when he saw they were all in Russian with their titles in Cyrillic script. "This is good movie, very popular in Russia", said Evgeni, holding up one of the DVD's. It depicted two men in aristocratic Edwardian clothes riding a camel in the desert, its title in elegant Cyrillic script. "This is White Sun of the Desert, it sot of like Russian cowboy movie", he said cheerfully: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/White_Sun_of_the_Desert "There's deserts in Russia?", asked Jordan. "No, this movie in Turkmenistan, no desert in Russia. But the guys are Russian", he explained. "And what is this?", asked Marie, handing him another DVD. "That is Prince Vladimir, great movie. He very important king, he made Russia Christian", said Evgeni proudly: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Prince_Vladimir_(film) "They made a cartoon about Christian crap, like Veggie Tales?", asked Jordan, making a face. "No, it better. Veggie Tales very stupid, that for babies", he said dismissively. "So what's it going to be, Russian cowboy movie or Jesus cartoon?", asked Jordan with a smirk. "Jordan, be nice", said Ellen, seeing the hurt look on her lover's face. "Oops, my bad. Eric's a Christian and Parker loves Veggie Tales, they seriously suck. Sorry, Geno", he apologized. "I see, Jordan. Prince Vladimir is good movie, not stupid like Veggie Tales", he said as he took the DVD out of the box and inserted it into the TV. The group gathered around the little TV as the train began to pull out of the station, the Interpol warning flashing on the screen. The cartoon was unlike a typical American Disney cartoon or anything mainstream, done in brilliant hand-painted colors and rotoscoping that took a long time to prepare. The lack of subtitles or translation was no hindrance as the plot was a fairly straightforward one, Prince Vladimir converting his people to Christianity. "That was actually a pretty good movie, Geno", said Jordan. "Da, it very good. It was made by the church, Prince Vladimir a great king", he said, ejecting the DVD and placing it back in the box. "Isn't it time for dinner?", asked Ellen, seeing it was dark outside. "Da, there is a dining car on the train, once we get back the Urals the food is cap, you buy food from the grannies at the station, much better", he said. The dining car was half-full with some people eating but mostly drinking beer, playing cards and smoking cigarettes as a thin haze of smoke hovered over the diners. They found an empty booth and Evgeni said something to the waiter, as he went over to the bar and came over with five bottles of Baltika No. 3 beer, opening the bottles as he gave the order for dinner. "What did you order, Geno?", asked Jordan, tasting the beer and nodding in approval. "Baltika very good beer, glad you like. I ordered everyone lagman, which is spicy beef soup with needles for first course and stroganoff for dinner. Sound good?", he asked. "Cool, I thought we were going to have that borscht stuff, that looks gross", said Jordan. "Borscht is good, but you Canadian, you no eat it", he teased as he took a sip of his beer. "What is Yekaterinburg like?", asked Ellen. "Not bad city, but the czar and his family were killed there. Yeltsin was from there too, he not that great. Datsyuk is from there too, maybe we run into him", he said dryly. "But isn't he from Sverdlosk?", asked Kris. "It different name for Yekaterinburg, the name changed by the Soviets. But a lot of people still call it that", he explained as the waiter brought over their food. Kris frowned after dinner when a group in a nearby booth lit cigarettes and started smoking. "Let's go back to our berth", he said as everyone nodded in agreement. "Does the TV get reception?", asked Jordan. "Maybe", shrugged Evgeni as he turned it on. A few blurry pictures could be seen amongst the static and garbled Russian as he just frowned, inserting the other DVD as the settled in to watch. Soon everyone was laughing at the rollicking, good-natured adventure movie set in the deserts of Turkmenistan, Evgeni explaining some of the Russian jokes. Jordan chuckled when he heard him explain a joke, lying on the top bunk of the bed with his stocking feet hanging over the edge. He glanced out the window as the train carriage swayed slightly, making its way southeast of the city, the tops of the pine trees black against the dark blue night sky. The moon and stars were even more bright here than on the initial trip from Estonia, than back on the farm in Thunder Bay. And we're not even in the real boonies yet, imagine when we get to Siberia, he thought dryly. The movie ended and Jordan took out his Ipod as Korpiklaani played, the Finnish folk metal feeling appropriate here. I got to thank Geno for lending me the album, these guys are awesome, he mused as Keep on Galloping came over his earbuds: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X9qckFjcG5E Keep on galloping my black horse carrying me to unknown shores through these outlandish woods and with confidence back home Lennä, laukkaa heposeni, lennä, laukkaa hallavaharja, kiiä halki kangasmaitten, murjo poikki pientareitten, kanna minnuu maailmalla, kulettele kuskiasi, näytä kaikki nähtävyyet, uuet maat ja uuet paikat. Mikäs täss' on matkatessa, mikäs täss' on elellessä, kaikkee saam mie matkav' varrelt', kaikkee mitä tarvittenki. Paljon nähty maailmalla, paljon vielä nähtävätä, monta maita minun mennä, Kuulla noita tarinoita. Laulan, tanssin, soiton soitan, revin riemun näistä teistä, näistä teistä, elämästä täällä Pohjantähen päässä . Tääl' on miun kotopaikka, tää on reissun päätepiste, heposeni tallipaikka, liinaharjan syntysija Keep on galloping my black horse carrying me to unknown shores through these outlandish woods and with confidence back home ...back home The train moved steadily southeast towards Yekaterinburg in the Ural Mountains for the next two and a half days. After an hour break in Moscow to change trains, they continued on its way only to stop for a bit at various provincial towns. The scenery changed from the massive beech and conifer forests of the north to the flat steppes of south near Ukraine and then to the low but ragged Ural Mountains that bisected the country and divided Europe and Asia. The mountains were not unlike the Appalachian or Laurentian Mountains in North America, ancient and weathered with lots of forests and scattered towns. The towns where the train stopped wee quite small, jumbles of wooden houses interspersed with concrete high-rises built by the Soviets and looking as though they had been dropped there by a giant crane. They were also noticeably full of old people judging from the vendors on the train platforms, many of the younger people having left to the city. Yekaterinburg had a lovely setting in the foothills of the Urals, the gently rounded mountains covered in a mantle of deep green summer leaves below a cloudless blue sky. However, the city itself was ugly as it had been extensively rebuilt under the Soviets in a tasteless, grandiose style. Enormous concrete apartment towers seemed to grow out of the valley like humongous trees, some of them dull gray but others painted hideous neon colors that were peeling in places like children's toys left too long in the sun. The public buildings were all vulgar concrete imitations of classical architecture at its most ornate, the city hall resembling a giant Roman temple and the local Culture Palace a knock-off of the Coliseum. Here and there were newer buildings distinguished by the fact they were neither massive or ugly, looking a lot like regular Western buildings. "Geno, this place is ugly as fuck", said Jordan. "Da, I know. Magnitogorsk is ugly too. If we come across Pasha, don't say so", he teased. They got off the train and went straight to the hotel across the street, the grandly named Hotel Europa. It was inside of an ugly Stalinist concrete tower block but inside it was like any other hotel with a big lobby and a long counter for check-ins, the green-patterned carpet freshly vacuumed and piped-in classical music playing over the PA. "Is there anything to see here?", asked Kris. "Nyet, unless you want to see house where they killed the czar. We rest and go out for dinner alter, we get back on train tomorrow", said Evgeni. "What's the next stop?", asked Jordan. "It's two days to Omsk, then Novosibirsk and we stop at Krasnoyarsk. Our contact meet us in Novosibirsk and take us there", he replied as they got in the elevator. "This is a great place, once you have a few drunks everything is better", said Evgeni as Jordan looked dubious. They were out for dinner that evening at Traktor Tavern across the street from the hotel. It was a cavernous restaurant/bar that was decked out in a kitschy Russian style with farm tools and cheery paintings of peasant life on the walls, waitresses in brightly embroidered peasant dresses and matching headscarves waiting on the tables. The noise level was considerably higher than most North American restaurants as large groups of young people and workers drank and talked over a pop band playing tuneless synthesizer music. Jordan knocked back a shot of vodka and winced at the racket, the cheesy pop music loud as any heavy metal. "After drinks, it sound good", said Evgeni as he poured everyone another shot. "Jordan, this is like a Russian country bar, like the one you took us back in Thunder Bay", said Kris as he knocked back the shot followed by a bite of pickle. "Da, you drinking like Russian now", he said approvingly. "Of course, if you eat, you don't get that drunk, I learned that in juniors", he chuckled. "I hope you don't plan to drink the whole bottle", said Marie dubiously. "Non, ma belle fille pays. I am just doing what Geno says, if you drink and eat you don't get drunk as fast. This is Russian-style drinking", he laughed. Ellen nodded in agreement as she drank her vodka and nibbled on a pickle. "I thought I knew how to drink, but I'm learning more since I've been with Zhenya. I no longer get drunk quickly on vodka", she giggled as the waitress came by with the first course, herrings in fur coats. It was a platter of herrings in a cream and vegetable sauce, the herrings each in its little covering of cream sauce with chopped vegetables on the side. "Not bad, but aren't those sardines?", asked Jordan as he carefully removed a bit of bone from the fish. "Nyet, those are herrings", said Evgeni as the waitress cleared the plates and he poured more vodka. Everyone was feeling pretty good as the main course arrived, the waitress setting down a platter of pelmeni on the table. The freshly baked meat dumplings had steam rising in the vent on the pastry casing, a side of sour cream providing a cool contrast. "This is really good, Geno. They're like the dumplings from a Chinese place", said Kris as he added a bit of sour cream to a dumpling and ate it. "Da, but Mom make them better", he boasted. The dinner dishes were cleared away as five small plates of chocolate cake and a bottle of Armenian brandy was brought over to the table. Evgeni was like an eager child as he poured everyone a generous measure of the brandy into the tiny decorative cups. "This the best brandy, French brandy not as good", he boasted. "Geno, you do know we are French", teased Kris. "Da, I know. But I telling the truth, Armenian brandy better than French. My uncle's wife was Armenian and they always bring my parents brandy as a gift", he said. Kris just shrugged as he sipped at the brandy, nodding in approval. The taste was stronger yet had more of a grape flavor than other brandies, more of a pleasant alcoholic flavor than French brandies. "This is really good, Geno", he said. "But you can't get this in US, a lot of trade problems. Too bad we cannot stop for a bit more time, Tomsk very pretty city and the Altai area have people that like Mongolians, ancestors like Genghis Khan and they live in tents with animals. And in Tuva, they are Buddhist and herd animals and have festivals with wrestling and horse racing and singing, that a lot of fun", said Evgeni. "I had no idea, these people Russians?", asked Jordan curiously. "They speak Russian, but not Russian. They like Mongolian, Chinese people, they Buddhist and Muslim and pagan. Interesting people and beautiful country, but we can't see anything. Maybe after all this over we can see something", said Evgeni as the waitress came over with the bill. |
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| The Cosmic Gerbil | June 6, 2012, 4:27 pm Post #130 |
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Forbidden Forest Ranger
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I must say, I love the way that you describe the different places that the guys and girls visit I love travelling, so it's fun to read about new places and customs Also, when you write about food, it always makes me really hungry
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| Lucifer's Angel | June 6, 2012, 5:02 pm Post #131 |
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Heavy Metal Seanchai
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Thanks Sandi Chapter 52 "How much more until we get there?", muttered Jordan as the train approached Novosibirsk in western Siberia. "We stay night here, tomorrow we get the last train to Krasnoyarsk and no more train", replied Evgeni as he glanced down at his hand of cards. The 21-hours train trip from Yekaterinburg passed over the Urals dividing Europe from Asia , across the low-lying gently rounded mountains thickly forested with trees and the flat plains on the western side. The forests were so thick and wooded it felt as though there were no other living things here, much denser than even the far north of Canada as there were at least people there. These forests appeared to be totally uninhabited except for the occasional bear glimpsed through the trees, as though humans were afraid of some primeval spirit lurking within. The western slopes moved towards flat grassy plains that had once been the domain of the Golden Horde and sundry Asian nomadic tribes, endless grassy plains that seemed as devoid of life as the forests except for an occasional town built by the Soviets for the train. Jordan frowned when he glanced down at his hand which contained a five of clubs, a seven of hearts, an ace of hearts, a jack of spades and a king of diamonds. "Just deal me a new hand, these cards suck", he grumbled. Kris chuckled softly as he discarded two cards and got new ones, tossing a few coins in the middle of the table. He glanced out the window and frowned as the suburbs of Novosibirsk came into view, an ugly vista of sprawling concrete apartment buildings, little concrete houses, enormous factories and pompous Soviet government buildings that seemed to go on forever. The city itself was merely an extension of its suburbs except the apartment buildings were bigger and the government buildings more grandiose and there were a few tiny parks to break up the massive concrete desert. "Is there anything here?", asked Kris in dismay. "Nyet, just a few churches and statues. There are some good clubs and bars, though", said Evgeni with a shrug. The train pulled into the ugly futurist train station that was just a big concrete building with no frills as they took their bags and walked onto the platform. The Hotel Novosibirsk across the street was considered the best hotel in town, which spoke volumes about this ugly, dull city. It was an enormous concrete monolith that resembled one of the massive housing projects on the outskirts of Moscow rather than any hotel, just plain concrete with aluminum lettering in Cyrillic out front to tell it was a hotel. Inside it was reasonably clean but worn and old with the faded threadbare rug on the floors and tatty couches with holes covered by equally worn pillows in the lobby. "I handle this", said Evgeni as he went over to the front desk. They watched as he talked with the clerk on duty and handed over a generous amount of money, getting the keys as he motioned for them to follow him. "What was that about?", asked Ellen as they got in the elevator. Evgeni chuckled as he pushed the button for the 12th floor. "I got rooms, a suite with bathrooms. I bribe the guy so he don't tell anyone we in town, I no want people finding out", he replied. "That makes sense", said Kris dryly as the elevator stopped at their floor. The suite was two bedrooms with a small parlor containing a fold-out bed, a TV with a built in DVD player, and cheap landscape prints on the walls in plastic frames. Each bedroom had a large double bed, dresser and nightstand with a lamp, while the bathrooms were small but clean with a showers. "I pay extra for the bathroom, otherwise you share it with everyone", he explained. "Mon dieu, that bathroom must be filthy", said Marie. "Da, very true", he agreed. Everyone retired to their rooms while Jordan pulled out the fold-out, glad that it could actually accommodate his size. Kris felt a sudden sensation of exhaustion overcome him as Marie nodded in understanding, turning down the covers as he quickly stripped down to his boxers and placed his clothes on the back of a chair. "Merci, ma belle fille pays. I'm glad we only got one more train ride, it's hard to sleep on those bunks", he chuckled. "Oui, if the planes here were actually safe we would have been there already", she replied as she got out of her dress and down to a thin white slip. Kris smiled appreciatively at the sight, an amused look in his dark eyes. "As much as I would like to fuck you, I think we need to rest more", he drawled.' Marie pretended to glare at him, the effect almost comical as she was a foot shorter and a hundred pounds lighter than him. "Very funny, Kris. Plus, Geno and Ellen are across from the bathroom and Jordan is in the parlor, unless you want to give everyone a show", she teased. "Ugh, no way", he said with a shudder. "Smart decision, Kris", she said coyly as they got into bed. Later that night, the group found themselves at the Amarillo Sky, a pseudo-Mexican restaurant that was every cheesy Tex-Mex cliche rolled into one. Pinatas in lurid colors shaped like animals hung from the ceiling along with hot pink crepe streamers and each table was covered by a cloth in orange, hot pink and purple stripes topped by a fake cactus in a little pot, a band of Russian guys in gaudy mariachi getup singing in Spanish with terrible accents. "I hope the food is better than the decor, this is cheesy as fuck", said Jordan. They were looking at the menus when a man in a fedora came over to their table. He was of average height and Latin-looking, his dark hair slicked down under his hat and his unusual grayish-green eyes deep and thoughtful. "Hola, amigos. I am here to take to Krasnoyarsk and then Tunguska", he said, speaking with a slight Spanish-Italian accent. "You are that Marco guy?", asked Kris. "Si, and you are Kris Letang? Perdon, damas, but I did not properly introduce myself. I am Marco Scangelo and I am here to escort you", he said gallantly, taking off his hat and kissing the women's hands. "Very glad to meet you, monsieur Scangelo", said Marie politely as he sat down at the table. "Are you going all the way with us?", asked Jordan. "Si, senor Staal. I have to make sure you finish your mission correctly so I can rejoin my family", said Marco as the waitress set down a bottle of Jose Cuervo and six shot glasses. "That sucks, you look like you could be from the 40's, though", said Jordan. "Si, verdad. My father, bless him, was a huge Sinatra and jazz fan, I've inherited that. This is why no one was suspicious when I went back in time with Clay and Katia", said Marco, sipping his tequila. "Monsieur Scangelo, did you know my father?", asked Marie. "Si, signorina Gagnon. Jean was one of my friends, we first met when Clay and Katia and I went to Florida for spring training with the Giants. At first, I didn't like him as he had the sort of, um, attitudes many people had back then, but he and I later became good friends", he replied. "What sort of attitudes?", asked Evgeni. "His friend Jerome was racist, but that was how he was raised in Texas. He disliked black people and admired Hitler, he even tried to join the German-American Bunk. Jean did share some of the same attitudes, but he picked that up from Jerome. Jean appears to have learned better now", said Marco as the group looked appalled. Marie's face burned hot with embarrassment. "Monsieur Scangelo, my father is not a racist", she said tightly. "Yo se, signorina Gagnon. But that's how he was back then, no today. Anyways, I am going with you, I had to take a leave of absence from my job', he said. "What sort of job do you have, Mr. Scangelo?", asked Ellen. "I have two jobs, actually. Half the year, I play second base for the Montreal Royals, the minor league team for the Brooklyn Dodgers. And in the fall and winter I do odd jobs for a man named Francois Dupont, who owns a club called Le Chatte Griz, he is a gangster you might say", said Marco. "Shit, we gotta deal with gangsters?", asked Jordan in disgust. "Monsieur Staal, do not swear in front of women. Monsieur Dupont is not a bad sort, he also owns my team", said Marco. A thoughtful look came on his face as he drank a shot of tequila. "It's ironic, I played on the New York Giants and now I'm playing for the Dodgers", he chuckled. "Huh? How many teams you play for?", asked Jordan. "The Giants and Dodgers are rivals, I played for the Oakland A's and Boston Red Sox in modern times. When we went back, I played for the Giants", he explained. "I had no idea the Giants used to play in New York, my nephew's the baseball fan in the family, not me", said Jordan with a wry chuckle. "I can see, senor Staal. The Dodgers and Giants used to play in New York until 1957 when they moved to California, it was not the best time in baseball. Have any of you seen Wrigley Field?", asked Marco. "Uh, we saw a game there in April last year against the Houston Astros", said Kris. "I saw Wrigley Field back in the day before the ivy was planted, we saw all the old parks before they were torn down. The Polo Grounds, Ebbets Field, Shibe Park, all of them. Such a pity they were all torn down, those modern stadiums were mierda", said Marco, shaking his head. "What about your family?", asked Evgeni. "I am going to rejoin them when this mission is over. Katia, Clay and I are in a menage a trois and this is my son Leo", said Marco, taking out a picture from his wallet. It was an old-fashioned black and white photo of two men and a woman, all of them in 40's dress with the woman holding a little boy wearing a sailor suit. One of the men was clearly Marco but the other man was tall and skinny with wavy light brown hair and blue eyes, his suit looking ill-suited to his gangly frame. The woman was tall and slim with her light hair in a French twist under a gray pillbox hat, her dress the same color. The boy looked like Marco except for his pale eyes, which clearly belonged to his mother. "He is a cute lad", said Ellen. "Grazie, signorina Sutherland", said Marco graciously. "What are we going to do once we get to this Tunguska place?", asked Jordan. "We get there on the Yenitsey ferry from Krasnoyarsk, the Tunguska is actually a tributary of the Yenitsey. We dock at the village and Ian will meet us there, his house is right on the spot", said Marco. "Does anyone else live there?", asked Kris. "No, people are afraid of the area. You have to understand, when the explosion happened, the local people honestly believed it was the end of the world. The nearest people are nearly fifteen kilometers away", said Marco. "Is Ian a relation, I don't remember if we had any relatives in Russia", said Ellen. "Sort of, he was with your father when you fled Scotland, signorina Sutherland", he replied. "Let's just hope we don't get zapped back to the Middle Ages", said Jordan dryly as their food arrived. |
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| The Cosmic Gerbil | June 7, 2012, 11:15 am Post #132 |
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Forbidden Forest Ranger
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I would like to go back in time to the middle ages but only for a quick visit Wow, 21 hours is a long time to be on a train :O The longest I have been on one is 6 hours. Kris was funny when he was teasing Marie
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| Lucifer's Angel | June 7, 2012, 6:15 pm Post #133 |
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Heavy Metal Seanchai
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Chapter 53 "I am so glad we are finally getting out of Siberia, this place is seriously fucking ugly", said Jordan as they boarded the river cruiser that would take them up the Yenitsey. "I from Siberia and I agree, cities are ugly and the rest is just forest and grass. This why I like Pittsburgh and my parents live in Moscow", said Evgeni. The river cruiser was a large, steel-hulled ferry that made regular trips up the Yenitsey to the small communities along the river. It was a spartan boat with only a few large cabins below the decks and a huge dormitory of bunks in the bowels of the ship not unlike steerage, a cafeteria a simple disco the only other amenities. "Lucky we got a cabin, it would really suck if we had to go in the bunks with everyone", said Jordan. "Verdad, that's why we got the cabin. The first time I went up the Yenitsey, I had a bunk and that was awful. That's why I got us all the big cabin, otherwise you would be in there with hundreds of people. The cafeteria food is right if you like dumplings and borscht, they have a lot of vodka and beer. And unless you want to see people dancing to Russian techno, I would stay away from the disco", said Marco dryly. Marco chuckled at the horrified looks on their faces as he led them one flight below deck towards their cabin. It was a large room containing two sets of bunks on either side of the cabin, along with a cheap old couch covered in worn brown Naugahyde facing an ancient 19-inch TV. The decor was all brown with the threadbare carpet that was now faded to a tan color from numerous washings and brown wallpaper that had been painted in spots to disguise where it had fallen away, the room smelling of harsh soap from a recent cleaning. "This is as bad as the last place", said Jordan, making a face. "It is at least clean, we could be in the bunkroom with everyone", said Marco. "Oops, my bad. But this is worse than the motels in juniors", he replied. "Je sais, but it's only for a bit", said Kris. "Hide the bags in the bins, I have a lock and key. Otherwise the maid steal it", said Evgeni. Kris nodded as he placed the bags in the large steel bins under the bunks, locking them and pocketing the key. Marco led them back towards the deck just as the ferry departed from the docks, many of the passengers waving goodbye to people on the shore. "Other than watching drunk assholes dancing, what else is there to do?", asked Jordan sarcastically. "I like your attitude, Jordan. I'm afraid not, unless you like to drink vodka", said Marco dryly. "Mr. Scangelo, don't give him ideas", chided Ellen. "I am telling the truth, there really is nothing to do, it's like a big ferry than a cruise. People don't stay here for long, just think of it as the calm before the storm", said Marco. Evgeni excused himself and returned several minutes later with a bottle of raspberry Stoli and six red plastic cups, breaking the seal of the bottle and pouring them each the vodka. "Marco right, is boring and vodka make it better", he chuckled. "Good idea, Geno", agreed Kris. Marie took a sip of the vodka and nodded in approval. "Mr.Scangelo, what are we supposed to do when we arrive? Are we supposed to have jobs", she asked. "If you want, but there were not many jobs for women back then outside of secretarial or domestic work. If you can find something, great, but if not that's okay. But I do have jobs for you guys", he said enigmatically. "Uh, is it going to be dangerous?", asked Jordan, taking a large swallow of vodka. "Not really, but you are going to work with Paul's band, they are about to go on a tour soon, I told them I know a guy who can act as protection", said Marco. "Awesome, dude", said Jordan excitedly. "And what are we going to do?", asked Kris. "All I can say is that you are getting a job that keeps you in Montreal and Evgeni's job is going to require traveling. I am sure you are going to like your jobs", said Marco. The ferry leisurely made its way up the broad river towards the end of the line, the river wide and calm with both banks heavily wooded with massive pine forests. It seemed as though they were the only people around, the sound of waves gently lapping at the side of the boat the only sound except for the odd bird. Occasionally, it would stop at a village whee a few people would either board or disembark, the entire population of the village greeting the ship with the people mostly old folks with a few children about. "That must be boring as hell, waiting for the shop to come in", said Jordan they got ready for dinner. Evgeni nodded as he combed his hair in front of the mirror. "Da, it very boring. My father's factory have a big vacation house for the workers around here, the workers go on vacation there. Me and Mom go up here during summer and Dad visit on weekends, we go on this boat. Nothing to do except play footy and pick berries, sometimes we go fishing or swimming. But there no electricity or sink, it very primitive like camping", he said. "That seriously sucks, Geno", he replied. "Let's wait outside so the girls can get ready", said Kris as Marie blew him a kiss and giggled. "I really hope we don't have to spend all day at home, that is so bloody dull", said Ellen, taking out a denim skirt and a dark green blouse. "I know, I've been working at the bar since high school. I don't know what I would do without a job", agreed Marie as she changed into a black knee-length skirt and purple blouse. "Maybe we can join a charity group, or get a dog. I am going to miss Aoife", said Ellen as Marie nodded. The women finished getting dressed and left the room as Evgeni locked the door behind them. "I'm afriad the food doesn't have a lot of variety, but it's safe to eat and good", said Marco. He was dressed elegantly in gray slacks and a short-sleeved white shirt under a dark red vest embroidered with brocade, his dark hair slicked back under a gray Fedora. "Sweet, you look great, like Sinatra, dude", said Jordan. "Lo siento, Jordan. Sinatra is my idol, I have all his studio albums and live ones and a lot of bootlegs. If I ever get back to Chicago, I will have to go to the Jazz Mart and see if they have any in stock", he replied. "Did you ever see him in concert?", asked Marie. "Oui, when he was with the Tommy Dorsey Orchestra after he had left Harry James. It was quite an experience, I suppose it would be like meeting the Pope. And he had such talent, such charisma", said Marco dreamily. "Whoa, awesome", said Jordan in awe. "Indeed, I wish I could have been able to record that show. He did all my favorites, Night and Day, Stardust, Blue Skies, Snootie Little Cutie, mas bueno. Too bad he would not have been touring in '36 or '37, but there were other marvelous bands back then", said Marco. "How did you get into Sinatra, Mr. Scangelo? My father's jukebox has all that sort of music", said Marie. "My father is Italian, he was always a huge Sinatra, Bennett, jazz fan. I grew up hearing it, I don't like much rock music at all. I do like ska like the British bands and the Slackers, very nice music. But most modern music is horrible", said Marco sadly. The group went deckside towards the cafeteria as the sun began to set over the river. The cafeteria was the largest room on the ship next to the disco, a large number of round tables and hard plastic chairs with a long counter running alongside the left wall with middle-aged women in hairnets and white aprons serving food onto plates on red plastic trays like at a school. They each grabbed a tray and utensils as they got in line, inching forward as the line steadily moved. The food was simple and fresh, consisting of soups such as borscht and a some type of creamy chowder, boiled and fried dumplings in a sort of gravy, Russian salad consisting of diced vegetables and mayonnaise, baked and fried fish, boiled potatoes and slices of pie and chocolate cake with a tin tub of bottled drinks sitting in ice at the very end. Everyone selected their food and paid as Evgeni found them an empty table in the corner. "Not bad, Geno. But what is in there?", asked Jordan, taking a sip of his borscht and looking at the fried dumplings. "That is fried pelmeni, it faster to fry them, you supposed to bake them. It just meat and spices and that is meat gravy, it good", he replied as he opened his bottle of Baltika beer. "Jordan, we're not in the Temple of Doom. I don't think they're going to put eyeballs or snakes or monkey brains in the food", teased Kris. "Dude, that movie was seriously gross", said Jordan with a shudder. They finished eating as Marco bought a bottle of chocolate raspberry-flavored vodka from a booth near the food counter. "Who else is in Paul's band?", asked Kris as he poured everyone a bit of the sweet dessert vodka. "The leader and trumpet player is David Briere, the other saxophonist is Charles Giroux, the bassist is Sean Kelly and the drummer is Ilya Bereslov, he is also the band's manager and treasurer", replied Marco. "What, Briere and Giroux were in a band together? They both play for the Flyers and share the same house", explained Kris. "Really, how interesting. Briere and Giroux are very good friends and great fellows, too bad about David's ex-wife", said Marco. "Don't tell me Briere has three sons and a bitchy ex-wife. Danny Briere has three sons and his ex left him for a young dude", said Jordan. "David has three sons and his wife ran off to Florida with her boyfriend, the boys live with him as he has full custody from the courts. Good boys, his sister watches them when the band is on the road", said Marco. "Shit, I can't believe we are going to be around Flyers", muttered Jordan. "Mr. Briere and Mr. Giroux are gentlemen, Jordan. And this does sound weird their ancestors were in the same band back then", said Marie thoughtfully. "This is Danny Briere and Claude Giroux, Marco", said Evgeni, handing him his phone. "Grazie. They look exactly like David and Charles, except their hair is a bit shorter. And Charles' hair is just as ed, at least he is good-looking and in a band and French. Otherwise he would not be popular with ladies", Marco chuckled as he handed back the phone. "I think Giroux would get a kick out of that, we played together on the Canadian team during the Junior World Championships. Luc and I would tease him because he has awful taste in music, he's from some butthole town way out in northern Ontario called Hearst, the only station up there was a country one. He's into stuff like Tim McGraw and Kenny Chesney, plus he also likes techno and can't dance", said Kris with a laugh. "Tim McGraw is not too bad if you like ballads, I like the ones he does with Faith Hill. But that Indian Outlaw song is bloody awful, 'tis very stupid. I don't like Chesney at all, he does this rubbish Caribbean stuff and that tractor song he did was terrible", said Ellen. "What tractor song?", asked Evgeni. "He did a song called She Thinks My Tractor's Sexy, it's as bad as it sounds", said Ellen. Evgeni made a face. "That sounds like stupid song, and why sing about tractors? Tractors not sexy", he muttered. "I know, 'tis a bloody bad song", said Ellen as she drank her vodka. |
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| The Cosmic Gerbil | June 8, 2012, 8:27 am Post #134 |
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Forbidden Forest Ranger
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Lol, the tractor song sounds hilarious I want to hear it so much now, looooooooooooooooooooool Be careful with the vodka too guys
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| Lucifer's Angel | June 8, 2012, 2:13 pm Post #135 |
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Heavy Metal Seanchai
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Chapter 54 Marco had a slight smile on his face when the ferry docked at the village of Bahkta on the banks of the Yenitsey. While the town was the largest in this huge district, it was nothing more than a cluster of ancient wooden houses on a dirt road, seemingly stuck in a time warp from the 1800's. Virtually the entire town was on the dock waiting, the majority of them elderly people with equally old clothes, the men wearing cheap cloth hats and the women in headscarves. He led them towards the docks and a tall man in jeans and a loose white shirt came over and shook his hand. He looked around forty, his dark blond hair graying at the temples and his exposed skin bronzed by the sun as he smiled at them. "Follow me, the truck is waiting", he said, his Russian grammatically correct but sounding off with a bit of an accent. Marco and the group followed the man towards an ancient blue Lada pickup truck, the back part with rust showing under the peeling paint. "I am Ivan Sutherland, my place is thirty miles from here", he said in English with a Scottish accent. "If you Scottish, why you named Ivan?", asked Evgeni as he helped Ellen into the pickup truck. "My real name is Ian, but I go by Ivan here. People think I'm from another part of Russia, I'm afraid it's really isolated where I live, but you won't have to worry about it much", said Ian as he got in the driver's side and turned the key in the ignition, the engine roaring to life. Ian drove onto a gravel road towards his house near the Stony Tunguska river and the site of the infamous explosion nearly a century earlier. The drive was a bit rough due to the road, the truck's wheels crunching on the gravel the only sound except for an occasional bird. The coniferous forest was the thickest, densest they had ever seen, the trees massive and the dark green pine needles making a canopy that virtually no sunlight could penetrate. The rich scent of pine sap was everywhere, not unpleasant and smelling like Christmas trees. Ian stopped the truck in front of a small log cabin perched on the edge of a forest, looking not unlike the gingerbread house in Hansel and Gretel. It was located right before the forest started on a bluff overlooking the Stony Tunguska river. The view before them was astonishing, the river snaking through a landscape of brown dead grass and equally dead rotten stumps of trees. However, it didn't look as though the trees were chopped down as the area wasn't polluted and dirty, just dead. "This is where the explosion happened, it killed all the trees and made the soil barren. There are rocks in the river that have powers, but they only work for certain people. I have one in my house for just that reason", said Ian as he led them inside. "Do we hang here for a bit or do we just go?", asked Jordan. "Everything you need is going to be at the house in Montreal, Marco can tell you more", said Ian. The group barely glanced around the spartan interior of the cabin as Ian took out a metal box and opened the lock with a key. Inside was a glowing bluish-green orb that gave off a phosphorescent glow as though it was radioactive, yet it didn't give off heat. "Touch it, it's not not", said Ian. Marie carefully placed a fingertip on its surface, the orb feeling like cool glass. "It's Tunguska rock, I don't know exactly what's in it, but it's not hot at all", he replied. The orb seemed to glow even brighter as everyone's eyes were riveted to it, unable to move. "I want everyone to place a hand on it and close your eyes", he ordered. Everyone placed a hand on the orb and closed their eyes, feeling a strong chill go through them as their hair literally stood on end and their bodies unable to move. The whole room went totally black as they could hear Ian's voice say a prayer in old Norse, his voice becoming louder then gradually fading away as a brilliant white light surrounded them. Kris counted to ten and took a deep breath when he didn't feel the orb, slowly opening his eyes. A relieved smile formed on his face when he saw they were in the parlor of a house, the wooden floor beneath his feet feeling very solid. "We're here, open your eyes", he said. Everyone followed his instructions and looked around. "Si, this is my house. Welcome y bienvenidos", chuckled Marco. "Not bad, I thought it would look really old", said Jordan with a nervous chuckle. "It is old, but nice. It might be an adjustment to go without TV or cell phones or Ipods, but you get used to it. Besides, I have a record player and the library is down the street, you can get a library card", said Marco. Marie smiled in delight when she saw the Victrola next to a stack of records. "Look, these are real vintage records", she exclaimed, holding up the latest Artie Shaw single. "Si, I am quite fond of Shaw, but I prefer Harry James myself", said Marco as she turned on the Victrola and placed the record on the turntable, dropping the needle onto the shellac as it played Comes Love: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M8JoCSoOcPM Come a rain storm put your rubbers on your feet, Comes a snow storm you can get a little heat; Comes love nothing can be done. Comes a fire then you know just what to do, Blow a tire You can buy another shoe, Comes love nothing can be done. don't try hidin 'cause there isn't any use, you'll start slidin when your heart turns on the juice. Comes a headache you can lose it in a day, Comes a toothache see the dentist right away; Comes love nothing can be done! Comes a heat wave you can hurry to the shore, Comes a summons you can hide behind the door; Comes love Nothing can be done. Comes the measles you can quarantine the room, Comes a mousie you can chase it with a broom; Comes love nothing can be done. that's all brother, If youve ever been in love, that's all brother, you know what Im speaking of! Comes a nightmare you can always stay awake, Comes depression you may get another break; Comes love nothing can be done "It does sound better on vinyl, I thought it was just some High Fidelity thing", said Ellen. Marco just chuckled as he led them on a tour of the house. Downstairs was the parlor with a brown sofa and a wood and glass coffee table facing a fireplace with real wood, a brick mantelpiece over it showing several framed black and white photos. Adjacent to the parlor was a small kitchen with a gas stove and oven, a late-model refrigerator, a toaster and assorted pots and pans hidden inside the oven. Inside the cupboards were sturdy beige earthenware dishes and bowls along with canned and jarred foods, the cutlery inside another drawer. Upstairs were three bedrooms and two bathrooms, each room rather small and with the identical decor of full-sized beds, a matching nightstand and dresser, a lamp and cream wallpaper. "And here is the attic, there's a bed up there", said Marco, pulling on a cord as a set of steps came down. The attic was reasonably clean and full of boxes tapes shut, a full-sized mattress with a blanket and pillows atop a brass frame. "The boxes came with the house, I have no idea what's in them", said Marco with a shrug. "I'll crash here", said Jordan. "All right, David and Charles are coming over later, you ought to rest. I told them I had friends coming over, and they will talk to you about the job", said Marco. "Where is Paul?", asked Kris. "Him and his wife are visiting relatives in Sorel, you will meet them later", he replied. "Let's see what we can make for dinner", said Marie. "No need, David and Charles are bringing Chinese food and there is wine in the kitchen. They want to welcome you", said Marco. "How lovely, we shall have to have invite them for tea", said Ellen. "They don't do tea, signorina Sutherland", said Marco, an amused smile on his face. "I see", she replied dryly. "I'm going to chill for a bit, see you guys later", said Jordan as the others went back downstairs and closed the trap door. Jordan gingerly felt the bed before lying down, his big body able to fit on the mattress. It was cool up here even though it did smell a bit musty, the corners under the eaves of the roof with delicate spiderwebs barely visible in the light coming from the windows covered by flimsy drapes. Other than the boxes, the attic also contained a full-length mirror rotated on a stand, an ancient set of encyclopedias in green leather binding, a dressmaker's dummy with no clothes and a Montreal Canadiens banner hanging on the walls. Jordan got up from his bed and peered outside through the curtains. The house looked to be in a suburban area on a street with neat little houses and trees, the trees with the rich deep green leaves of summer. Some kids were riding bikes nearby while another group played baseball with a broom handle and a tennis ball, shouting happily when a fat kid hit a ball far down the street. Not a bad place, at least it's not a dump, he chuckled as he went back to his bed. "David and Charles are going to be here soon, I told them you were married', said Marco apologetically as he took out two sets of simple gold wedding rings from a box in a drawer. "Okay, but people didn't shack up back then, right?", asked Kris as he put a ring on his finger and handed one to Marie. "No, it was scandalous. Clay and Katia pretended to be married when we went back in time, our relationship would have been an even bigger scandal", he chuckled. "I still can't believe two Flyers are going to be here, someone has a strange sense of humor", teased Jordan. "They are the ancestors of Briere and Giroux, Jordan. Just don't look shocked", said Kris as Jordan flipped him off. "Da, it going to be weird, but don't look funny", said Evgeni. Meanwhile, Ellen was looking through the records in a cabinet underneath the Victrola. "This is bloody good, I love Ernest Tubb", she said, placing the disc on the turntable and lowering the needle as it played Walking the Floor Over You by the Texas country legend: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iL8xnVbj5Ts I'm walking the floor over you I can't sleep a wink that is true I'm hoping and I'm praying as my heart breaks right in two walking the floor over you You left me and you went away you said that you'd be back in just a day You've broken your promise and you left me here alone I don't know why you did dear but I do know that you're gone I'm walking the floor over you... Now someday you may be lonesome too walking the floor is good for you Just keep right on walking and it won't hurt you to cry Remember that I loved you and I will the day I die I'm walking the floor over you... "Papa's old friend Jerome liked this sort of music, he was from Texas", said Marie. "Is that an electric guitar, I didn't know they had those back then", said Jordan. "Aye, electric guitars were invented in the 30's and were used in country and jazz. It wasn't until the 50's it became more popular", she explained. "You very smart girl, Ellen", teased Evgeni as she blushed. The doorbell rang as Marco went to answer it. "Bonjour, mes amis", he said in his accented French as the two men entered the foyer. "Bonjour, Marco. Please introduce us to your friends", said David Briere as he handed him a large paper bag with the food. David was about 5'7 and slim with his straight black hair a bit long around his ears, a neat little mustache on his upper lip and his face otherwise clean-shaven, wearing a short-sleeved white shirt and gray slacks as he smiled kindly at them. "Oui, Marco", teased Charles. He was taller than David at 5'11 and muscular, his curly rust-red hair shining with blond highlights in the summer sun and his hazel eyes merry, wearing the same gray slacks and white shirt. "These are my friends David Briere and Charles Giroux. David and Charles, this is Kristopher Letang and his wife Marie, Evgeni Malkin and his wife Ellen and Jordan Staal", said Marco as they all shook hands. "Bonjour et bienvenue. Let's go eat before the food gets cold", said Charles with a laugh. Marie took out a bottle of Merlot from the cupboard and uncorked it, pouring everyone a glass as Ellen took the boxes of food from the bag so they could help themselves. "Merci, madame Letang. Marco always has good wine", said David. "It's an Italian thing, I've been drinking wine since I was a boy", chuckled Marco. Kris just laughed as he pulled out a chair for Marie as Evgeni did the same for Ellen. "Or a French thing, my mom always had wine in the house", he said. "Je said, monsieur Letang. Lucky my father owns a wine shop in Hull across the river from Ottawa, I know wine", agreed David. "Call me Kris, David", said Kris as he nodded. "Jordan, no offense, but I never met anyone named that before", said Charles as he passed him a box of pepper steak. Jordan added some to his plate before passing to Kris before replying. "Uh, it's a common name where I come from, Charles", he replied. "I got you, from the Jordan River, right?", asked Charles. "Yeah, my folks got it from the Bible. I'm from Thunder Bay", he said. "Nice place, lots of Dutch folks there, you Dutch? I'm from Hearst which is way out in the sticks", said Charles. Maybe he is Giroux's grandpa and shit, that's exactly where Claude is from. "Wow, that is way out in the sticks", he chuckled. "We're just relaxing before our next tour starts next week, Ilya was on the phone getting everything set up. Marco said you would be interested in being our security and equipment guy, Jordan. On our last tour, we had problems with that", said David. "That sounds awesome. Do I have to kick some ass?", asked Jordan, cracking his knuckles. David raised an eyebrow and looked over at Jordan, the blond giant towering over him by almost a foot and 70lbs. "You could say that, touring is not that easy. The pay is not much but we need security as people try to steal our things and sometimes the club owners don't want to pay us right. It was Ilya's idea", he said. "Ilya's a genius, his folks were rich nobles in Russia who got out after the Commies took over. His brother is a lawyer who helps us with contracts, he graduated from McGill", said Charles. "Oui, but he plays drummer than he does law, and it is more fun", agreed David. "And lucky your sister is watching the boys, too bad they can't tour with us", said Charles. "I'm divorced, my wife ran off with her lover to Florida and left me with the boys. I have three sons, Maurice, Jacques and Pascal", said David. "I'm sorry to hear that, Mr. Briere", said Ellen kindly. "Merci, madame Malkina. My wife and I were having problems and it was for the best, the boys are happy with me and their aunt. I have to send her alimony so she stays out of my hair, but it's worth it", said David. The dishes were cleared away as Kris placed them in the sink and Marie washed them, Marco pouring everyone a glass of Marsala. "Dude, your ex is a total bitch", said Jordan in disgust. "Jordan, there are ladies here. And I agree, I don't care if she stays in Florida with her stupid lover, as long as I don't have to deal with her", said Danny with a forced smile. "That's why I'm never getting married ever, a wife is nothing but trouble. The only girl I like right now is my sister Charlotte, she's coming to Montreal next month to live with me, she's going to secretarial school", said Charles. "Je sais, Charles. That's why you ought to not marry at eighteen after you put a bun in the oven", said David with a bitter little laugh. |
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I want to ride on one of those fast trains too




I do like the piccies so much, especially the one with the flower garden in
They all look so beautiful...I would love to visit places like that 






8:49 PM Jul 10