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Hail and Farewell (George Moore) - Book 3: Vale, Chapter 11.2
2023.05.28 14:31 AnderLouis_ Hail and Farewell (George Moore) - Book 3: Vale, Chapter 11.2
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PROMPTS: George does not care about you, whatsoever.
Today's Reading, via Project Gutenberg:
Borde could not enlighten him on that point, and I suggested that he should make application to the publisher of his Prayer-Book and get his money back. There is nobody. I said, like him. He is more wonderful than anything in literature. I prefer him to Sancho who was untroubled with a conscience and never thought of running to the Bishop of Toledo. All the same he is not without the shrewdness of his ancestors, and got the better of Archbishop Walsh, and for the last five years Vincent O'Brien has been beating time, and will beat it till the end of his life; and he will be succeeded by others, for Edward has, by deed, saved the Italian contrapuntalists till time everlasting from competition with modern composers. He certainly has gotten the better of Walsh. And I thought of a picture-gallery in Dublin with nothing in it but Botticelli and his school, and myself declaring that all painting that had been done since had no interest for me.... A smile began to spread over my face, for the story that was coming into my mind seemed oh! so humorous, so like Ireland, so like Edward, that I began to tell myself again the delightful story of the unrefined ears that, weary of erudite music, had left the cathedral and sought instinctively modern tunes and women's voices, and as these were to be found in Westland Row the church was soon overflowing with a happy congregation. But in a little while the collections grew scantier. This time it couldn't be Palestrina, and all kinds of reasons were adduced. At last the truth could no longer be denied—the professional Catholics of Merrion Square had been driven out of Westland Row by the searching smells of dirty clothes, and had gone away to the University Church in Stephen's Green. So if it weren't Palestrina directly it was Palestrina indirectly, and the brows of the priests began to knit when Edward Martyn's name was mentioned. Them fal-de-dals is well enough on the Continent, in Paris, where there is no faith, was the opinion of an important ecclesiastic. But we don't want them here, murmured a second ecclesiastic. All this counterpoint may make a very pretty background for Mr Martyn's prayers, but what about the poor people's? Good composer or bad composer, there is no congregation in him, said a third. There's too much congregation, put in the first, but not the kind we want! The second ecclesiastic took snuff, and the group were of opinion that steps should be taken to persuade dear Edward to make good their losses. The priests in Marlborough Street sympathised with the priests of Westland Row, and told them that they were so heavily out of pocket that Mr Martyn had agreed to do something for them. It seemed to the Westland Row priests that if Mr Martyn were making good the losses of the priests of the pro-Cathedral, he should make good their losses. It was natural that they should think so, and to acquit himself of all responsibility Edward no doubt consulted the best theologians on the subject, and I think that they assured him that he is not responsible for indirect losses. If he were, his whole fortune would not suffice. He was, of course, very sorry if a sudden influx of poor people had caused a falling-off in the collections of Westland Row, for he knew that the priests needed the money very much to pay for the new decorations, and to help them he wrote an article in the Independent praising the new blue ceiling, which seemed, so he wrote, a worthy canopy for the soaring strains of Palestrina.
Unfortunately rubbing salt into the wound, I said. A story that will amuse Dujardin and it will be great fun telling him in the shady garden at Fontainebleau how Edward, anxious to do something for his church, had succeeded in emptying two. All the way down the alleys he will wonder how Edward could have ever looked upon Palestrina's masses as religious music. The only music he will say, in which religious emotion transpires is plain-chant. Huysmans says that the Tantum Ergo or the Dies Irae, one or the other, reminds him of a soul being dragged out of purgatory, and it is possible that it does; but a plain-chant tune arranged in eight-part counterpoint cannot remind one of anything very terrible. Dujardin knows that Palestrina was a priest, and he will say: That fact deceived your friend, just as the fact of finding the Adeste Fideles among the plain-chant tunes deceived him. For of course I shall tell Dujardin that story too. It is too good to be missed. He is wonderful, Dujardin! I shall cry out in one of the sinuous alleys. There never was anybody like him! And I will tell him more soul-revealing anecdotes. I will say: Dujardin, listen. One evening he contended that the great duet at the end of Siegfried reminded him of mass by Palestrina. Dujardin will laugh, and, excited by his laughter, I will try to explain to him that what Edward sees is that Palestrina took a plain chant tune and gave fragments of it to the different voices, and in his mind these become confused with the motives of The Ring. You see, Dujardin, the essential always escapes him—the intention of the writer is hidden from him. I am beginning to understand your friend. He has, let us suppose, a musical ear that allows him to take pleasure in the music; but a musical ear will not help him to follow Wagner's idea—how, in a transport of sexual emotion, a young man and a young woman on a mountain-side awaken to the beauty of the life of the world. Dujardin's appreciations will provoke me, and I will say: Dujardin, you shouldn't be so appreciative. If I were telling you of a play I had written, it would be delightful to watch my idea dawning upon your consciousness; but I am telling you of a real man, and one that I shall never to able to get into literature. He will answer: We invent nothing; we can but perceive. And then, exhilarated, carried beyond myself, I will say: Dujardin, I will tell you something still more wonderful than the last gaffe. II gaffe dans les Quat'z Arts. He admires Ibsen, but you'd never guess the reason why—because he is very like Racine; both of them, he says, are classical writers. And do you know how he arrived at that point? Because nobody is killed on the stage in Racine or in Ibsen. He does not see that the intention of Racine is to represent men and women out of time and out of space, unconditioned by environment, and that the very first principle of Ibsen's art is the relation of his characters to their environment. In many passages he merely dramatises Darwin. There never was anybody so interesting as dear Edward, and there never will be anybody like him in literature ... I will explain why presently, but I must first tell you another anecdote. I went to see him one night, and he told me that the theme of the play he was writing was a man who had married a woman because he had lost faith in himself; the man did not know, however, that the woman had married him for the same reason, and the two of them were thinking—I have forgotten what they were thinking, but I remember Edward saying: I should like to suggest hopelessness. I urged many phrases, but he said: It isn't a phrase I want, but an actual thing. I was thinking of a broken anchor—that surely is a symbol of hopelessness. Yes, I said, no doubt, but how are you going to get a broken anchor into a drawing-room? I don't write about drawing-rooms. Well, living-rooms. It isn't likely that they would buy a broken anchor and put it up by the coal-scuttle.
There's that against it, he answered. If you could suggest anything better—What do you think of a library in which there is nothing but unacted plays? The characters could say, when there was nothing for them to do on the stage, that they were going to the library to read, and the library would have the advantage of reminding everybody of the garret in the Wild Duck. A very cruel answer, my friend, Dujardin will say, and I will tell him that I can't help seeing in Edward something beyond Shakespeare or Balzac. Now, tell me, which of these anecdotes I have told you is the most humorous? He will not answer my question, but a certain thoughtfulness will begin to settle in his face, and he will say: Everything with him is accidental, and when his memory fails him he falls into another mistake, and he amuses you because it is impossible for you to anticipate his next mistake. You know there is going to be one; there must be one, for he sees things separately rather than relatively. I am beginning to understand your friend.
You are, you are; you are doing splendidly. But you haven't told me, Dujardin, which anecdote you prefer. Stay, there is another one. Perhaps this one will help you to a still better understanding. When he brought The Heather Field and Yeats's play The Countess Cathleen to Dublin for performance, a great trouble of conscience awakened suddenly in him, and a few days before the performance he went to a theologian to ask him if The Countess Cathleen were a heretical work, and, if it were would Almighty God hold him responsible for the performance? But he couldn't withdraw Yeats's play without withdrawing his own, and it appears that he breathed a sigh of relief when a common friend referred the whole matter to two other theologians, and as these gave their consent Edward allowed the plays to go on; but Cardinal Logue intervened, and wrote a letter to the papers to say that the play seemed to him unfit for Catholic ears, and Edward would have withdrawn the plays if the Cardinal hadn't admitted in his letter that he had judged the play by certain extracts only.
He wishes to act rightly, but has little faith in himself; and what makes him so amusing is that he needs advice in aesthetics as well as in morals. We are, I said, Dujardin, at the roots of conscience. And I began to ponder the question what would happen to Edward if we lived in a world in which aesthetics ruled: I should be where Bishop Healy is, and he would be a thin, small voice crying in the wilderness—an amusing subject of meditation, from which I awoke suddenly.
I wonder how Dujardin is getting on with his Biblical studies? Last year he was calling into question the authorship of the Romans—a most eccentric view; and, remembering how weakly I had answered him, I took the Bible from the table and began to read the Epistle with a view to furnishing myself with arguments wherewith to confute him. My Bible opened at the ninth chapter, and I said: Why, here is the authority for the Countess Cathleen's sacrifice which Edward's theologian deemed untheological. It will be great fun to poke Edward up with St Paul, and on my way to Lincoln Place I thought how I might lead the conversation to The Countess Cathleen.
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A few minutes afterwards a light appeared on the staircase and the door slowly opened.
Come in, Siegfried, though you were off the key.
Well, my dear friend, it is a difficult matter to whistle above two trams passing simultaneously and six people jabbering round a public-house, to say nothing of a jarvey or two, and you perhaps dozing in your armchair, as your habit often is. You won't open to anything else except a motive from The Ring; and I stumbled up the stairs in front of Edward, who followed with a candle.
Wait a moment; let me go first and I'll turn up the gas.
You aren't sitting in the dark, are you?
No, but I read better by candle-light, and he blew out the candles in the tin candelabrum that he had made for himself. He is original even in his candelabrum; no one before him had ever thought of a caridelabrum in tin, and I fell to admiring his appearance more carefully than perhaps I had ever done before, so monumental did he seem lying on the little sofa sheltered from daughts by a screen, a shawl about his shoulders. His churchwarden was drawing famously, and I noticed his great square hands with strong fingers and square nails pared closely away, and as heretofore I admired the curve of the great belly, the thickness of the thighs, the length and breadth and the width of his foot hanging over the edge of the sofa, the apoplectic neck falling into great rolls of flesh, the humid eyes, the skull covered with short stubbly hair. I looked round the rooms and they seemed part of himself: the old green wallpaper on which he pins reproductions of the Italian masters. And I longed to peep once more into the bare bedroom into which he goes to fetch bottles of Apollinaris. Always original! Is there another man in this world whose income is two thousand a year, and who sleeps in a bare bedroom, without dressing-room, or bathroom, or servant in the house to brush his clothes, and who has to go to the baker's for his breakfast?
We had been talking for some time of the Gaelic League, and from Hyde it was easy to pass to Yeats and his plays.
His best play is The Countess Cathleen.
The Countess Cathleen is only a sketch.
But what I never could understand, Edward, was why you and the Cardinal could have had any doubts as to the orthodoxy of The Countess Cathleen.
What, a woman that sells her own soul in order to save the souls of others!
I suppose your theologian objected—
Of course he objected.
He cannot have read St Paul.
What do you mean?
He can't have read St Paul, or else he is prepared to throw over St Paul.
Mon ami Moore, mon ami Moore.
The supernatural idealism of a man who would sell his soul to save the souls of others fills me with awe.
But it wasn't a man; it was the Countess Cathleen, and women are never idealists.
Not the saints?
His face grew solemn at once.
If you give me the Epistles I will read the passage to you. And it was great fun to go to the bookshelves and read: I say the truth in Christ, I lie not, my conscience also bearing me witness in the Holy Ghost, that I have great heaviness and continual sorrow in my heart. For I could wish that myself were accursed from Christ for my brethren, my kinsmen according to the flesh.
Edward's face grew more and more solemn, and I wondered of what he was thinking.
Paul is a very difficult and a very obscure writer, and I think the Church is quite right not to encourage the reading of the Epistles, especially without comments.
Then you do think there is something in the passage I have read?
After looking down his dignified nose for a long time, he said:
Of course, the Church has an explanation. All the same, it's very odd that St Paul should have said such a thing—very odd.
There is no doubt that I owe a great deal of my happiness to Edward; all my life long he has been exquisite entertainment. And I fell to thinking that Nature was very cruel to have led me, like Moses, within sight of the Promised Land. A story would be necessary to bring Edward into literature, and it would be impossible to devise an action of which he should be a part. The sex of a woman is odious to him, and a man with two thousand a year does not rob nor steal, and he is so uninterested in his fellow-men that he has never an ill word to say about anybody. John Eglinton is a little thing; AE is a soul that few will understand; but Edward is universal—more universal than Yeats, than myself, than any of us, but for lack of a story I shall not be able to give him the immortality in literature which he seeks in sacraments. Shakespeare always took his stories from some other people. Turgenev's portrait of him would be thin, poor, and evasive, and Balzac would give us the portrait of a mere fool. And Edward is not a fool. As I understand him he is a temperament without a rudder; all he has to rely upon is his memory, which isn't a very good one, and so he tumbles from one mistake into another. My God! it is a terrible thing to happen to one, to understand a man better than he understands himself, and to be powerless to help him. If I had been able to undo his faith I should have raised him to the level of Sir Horace Plunkett, but he resisted me; and perhaps he did well, for he came into the world seeing things separately rather than relatively, and had to be a Catholic. He is a born Catholic, and I remembered one of his confessions—a partial confession, but a confession: If you had been brought up as strictly as I have been—I don't think he ever finished the sentence; he often leaves sentences unfinished, as if he fears to think things out. The end of the sentence should run: You would not dare to think independently. He thinks that his severe bringing-up has robbed him of something. But the prisoner ends by liking his prison-house, and on another occasion he said: If it hadn't been for the Church, I don't know what would have happened to me.
My thoughts stopped, and when I awoke I was thinking of Hughes. Perhaps the link between Hughes and Edward was Loughrea Cathedral. He had shown me a photograph of some saints modelled by Hughes. Hughes is away in Paris, I said, modelling saints for Loughrea Cathedral. The last time I saw him was at Walter Osborne's funeral, and Walter's death set me thinking of the woman I had lost, and little by little all she had told me about herself floated up in my mind like something that I had read. I had never seen her father nor the Putney villa in which she had been brought up, but she had made me familiar with both through her pleasant mode of conversation, which was never to describe anything, but just to talk about things, dropping phrases here and there, and the phrases she dropped were so well chosen that the comfort of the villa, its pompous meals and numerous servants, its gardens and greenhouses, with stables and coach-house just behind, are as well known to me as the house that I am living in, better known in a way, for I see it through the eyes of the imagination ... clearer eyes than the physical eyes.
It does not seem to me that any one was ever more conscious of whence she had come and of what she had been; she seemed to be able to see herself as a child again, and to describe her childhood with her brother (they were nearly the same age) in the villa and in the villa's garden. I seemed to see them always as two rather staid children who were being constantly dressed by diligent nurses and taken out for long drives in the family carriage. They did not like these drives and used to hide in the garden; but their governess was sent to fetch them, and they were brought back. Her father did not like to have the horses kept waiting, and one day as Stella stood with him in the passage, she saw her mother come out of her bedroom beautifully dressed. Her father whispered something in his wife's ear, and he followed her into her bedroom. Stella remembered how the door closed behind them. In my telling, the incident seems to lose some of its point, but in Stella's relation it seemed to put her father and his wife before me and so clearly that I could not help asking her what answer her father would make were she to tell him that she had a lover. A smile hovered in her grave face. He would look embarrassed, she said, and wonder why I should have told him such a thing, and then I think he would go to the greenhouse, and when he returned he would talk to me about something quite different. I don't think that Stella ever told me about the people that came to their house, but people must have come to it, and as an example of how a few words can convey an environment I will quote her: I always wanted to talk about Rossetti, she said, and these seven words seem to me to tell better than any description the life of a girl living with a formal father in a Putney villa, longing for something, not knowing exactly what, and anxious to get away from home.... I think she told me she was eighteen or nineteen and had started painting before she met Florence at the house of one of her father's friends; a somewhat sore point this meeting was, for Florence was looked upon by Stella's father as something of a Bohemian. She was a painter, and knew all the Art classes and the fees that had to be paid, and led Stella into the world of studios and models and girl friends. She knew how to find studios and could plan out a journey abroad. Stella's imagination was captured, and even if her father had tried to offer opposition to her leaving home he could not have prevented her, for she was an heiress (her mother was dead and had left her a considerable income); but he did not try, and the two girls set up house together in Chelsea; they travelled in Italy and Spain; they had a cottage in the country; they painted pictures and exhibited their pictures in the same exhibitions; they gave dances in their studios and were attracted by this young man and the other; but Stella did not give herself to any one, because, as she admitted to me, she was afraid that a lover would interrupt the devotion which she intended to give to Art. But life is forever casting itself into new shapes and forms, and no sooner had she begun to express herself in Art than she met me. I was about to go to Ireland to preach a new gospel, and must have seemed a very impulsive and fantastic person to her, but were not impulsiveness and fantasy just the qualities that would appeal to her? And were not gravity and good sense the qualities that would appeal to me, determined as I was then to indulge myself in a little madness?
I could not have chosen a saner companion than Stella; my instinct had led me to her; but because one man's instinct is a little more clear than another's, it does not follow that he has called reason to his aid. It must be remembered always that the art of painting is as inveterate in me as the art of writing, and that I am never altogether myself when far away from the smell of oil paint. Stella could talk to one about painting, and all through that wonderful summer described in Salve our talk flowed on as delightfully as a breeze in Maytime, and as irresponsible, flashing thoughts going by and avowals perfumed with memories. Only in her garden did conversation fail us, for in her garden Stella could think only of her flowers, and it seemed an indiscretion to follow her as she went through the twilight gathering dead blooms or freeing plants from noxious insects. But she would have had me follow her, and I think was always a little grieved that I wasn't as interested in her garden as I was in her painting; and my absent-mindedness when I followed her often vexed her and my mistakes distressed her.
You are interested, she said, only in what I say about flowers and not in the flowers themselves. You like to hear me tell about Miss —— whose business in life is to grow carnations, because you already see her, dimly, perhaps, but still you see her in a story. Forget her and look at this Miss Shifner!
Yes, it is beautiful, but we can only admire the flowers that we notice when we are children, I answered. Dahlias, china roses, red and yellow tulips, tawny wallflowers, purple pansies, are never long out of my thoughts, and all the wonderful varieties of the iris, the beautiful blue satin and the cream, some shining like porcelain, even the common iris that grows about the moat.
But there were carnations in your mother's garden?
Yes, and I remember seeing them being tied with bass. But what did you say yesterday about carnations? That they were the—
She laughed and would not tell me, and when the twilight stooped over the high trees and the bats flitted and the garden was silent except when a fish leaped, I begged her to come away to the wild growths that I loved better than the flowers.
But the mallow and willow-weed are the only two that you recognise. How many times have I told you the difference between self-heal and tufted vetch?
I like cow parsley and wild hyacinths and—
You have forgotten the name. As well speak of a woman that you loved but whose name you had forgotten.
Well, if I have, I love trees better than you do, Stella. You pass under a fir unstirred by the mystery of its branches, and I wonder at you, for I am a tree worshipper, even as my ancestors, and am moved as they were by the dizzy height of a great silver fir. You like to paint trees, and I should like to paint flowers if I could paint; there we are set forth, you and I.
I have told in Salve that in Rathfarnham she found many motives for painting; the shape of the land and the spire above the straggling village appealed to me, but she was not altogether herself in these pictures. She would have liked the village away, for man and his dwellings did not form part of her conception of a landscape; large trees and a flight of clouds above the trees were her selection, and the almost unconscious life of kine wandering or sheep seeking the shelter of a tree.
Stella was a good walker, and we followed the long road leading from Rathfarnham up the hills, stopping to admire the long plain which we could see through the comely trees shooting out of the shelving hillside.
If I have beguiled you into a country where there are no artists and few men of letters, you can't say that I have not shown you comely trees. And now if you can walk two miles farther up this steep road I will show you a lovely prospect.
And I enjoyed her grave admiration of the old Queen Anne dwelling-house, its rough masonry, the yew hedges, the path along the hillside leading to the Druid altar and the coast-line sweeping in beautiful curves, but she did not like to hear me say that the drawing of the shore reminded her of Corot.
It is a sad affectation, she said, to speak of Nature reminding one of pictures.
Well, the outlines of Howth are beautiful, I answered, and the haze is incomparable. I should like to have spoken about a piece of sculpture, but for your sake, Stella, I refrain.
She was interested in things rather than ideas, and I remember her saying to me that things interest us only because we know that they are always slipping from us. A strange thing for a woman to say to her lover. She noticed all the changes of the seasons and loved them, and taught me to love them. She brought a lamb back from Rathfarnham, a poor forlorn thing that had run bleating so pitifully across the windy field that she had asked the shepherd where the ewe was, and he had answered that she had been killed overnight by a golf-ball. The lamb will be dead before morning, he added. And it was that March that the donkey produced a foal, a poor ragged thing that did not look as if it ever could be larger than a goat, but the donkey loved her foal.
Do you know the names of those two birds flying up and down the river?
They look to me like two large wrens with white waistcoats.
They are water-ouzels, she said.
The birds flew with rapid strokes of the wings, like kingfishers, alighting constantly on the river, on large mossy stones, and though we saw them plunge into the water, it was not to swim, but to run along the bottom in search of worms.
But do worms live under water?
The rooks were building, and a little while after a great scuffling was heard in one of the chimneys and a young jackdaw came down and soon became tamer than any bird I had ever seen, tamer than a parrot, and at the end of May the corncrake called from the meadow that summer had come again, and the kine wandered in deeper and deeper and deeper herbage. The days seemed never to end, and looking through the branches of the chestnut in which the fruit had not begun to show, we caught sight of a strange spectacle. Stella said, A lunar rainbow, and I wondered, never having heard of or seen such a thing before.
I shall never forget that rainbow, Stella, and am glad that we saw it together.
In every love story lovers reprove each other for lack of affection, and Stella had often sent me angry letters which caused me many heart-burnings and brought me out to her; in the garden there were reconciliations, we picked up the thread again, and the summer had passed before the reason of these quarrels became clear to me. One September evening Stella said she would accompany me to the gate, and we had not gone very far before I began to notice that she was quarrelling with me. She spoke of the loneliness of the Moat House, and I had answered that she had not been alone two evenings that week. She admitted my devotion. And if you admit that there has been no neglect—
She would not tell me, but there was something she was not satisfied with, and before we reached the end of the avenue she said, I don't think I can tell you. But on being pressed she said:
Well, you don't make love to me often enough.
And full of apologies I answered, Let me go back.
No, I can't have you back now, not after having spoken like that.
But she yielded to my invitation, and we returned to the house, and next morning I went back to Dublin a little dazed, a little shaken.
A few days after she went away to Italy to spend the winter and wrote me long letters, interesting me in herself, in the villagers, in the walks and the things that she saw in her walks, setting me sighing that she was away from me, or that I was not with her. And going to the window I would stand for a long time watching the hawthorns in their bleak wintry discontent, thinking how the sunlight fell into the Italian gardens, and caught the corner of the ruin she was sketching; and I let my fancy stray for a time unchecked. It would be wonderful to be in Italy with her, but—
I turned from the window suspicious, for there was a feeling at the back of my mind that with her return an anxiety would come into my life that I would willingly be without. She had told me she had refrained from a lover because she wished to keep all herself for her painting, and now she had taken to herself a lover. She was twenty years younger than I was, and at forty-six or thereabouts one begins to feel that one's time for love is over; one is consultant rather than practitioner. But it was impossible to dismiss the subject with a jest, and I found myself face to face with the question—If these twenty years were removed, would things be different? It seemed to me that the difficulty that had arisen would have been the same earlier in my life as it was now, and returning to the window I watched the hawthorns blowing under the cold grey Dublin sky.
The problem is set, I said, for the married, and every couple has to solve it in one way or another, but they have to solve it; they have to come to terms with love, especially the man, for whom it is a question of life and death. But how do they come to terms? And I thought of the different married people I knew. Which would be most likely to advise me—the man or the woman? It would be no use to seek advice; every case is different, I said. If anybody were to advise me it would be the man, for the problem is not so difficult for a woman. She can escape from love more easily than her lover or her husband; she can plead, and her many pleadings were considered, one by one, and how in married life the solution that seems to lovers so difficult is solved by marriage itself, by propinquity. But not always, not always. The question is one of extraordinary interest and importance; more marriages come to shipwreck, I am convinced, on this very question than upon any other. In the divorce cases published we read of incompatibility of temper and lack of mutual tastes, mere euphemisms that deceive nobody. The image of a shipwreck rose up in me naturally. She will return, and like a ship our love for each other will be beaten on these rocks and broken. We shall not be able to get out to sea. She will return, and when she returns her temperament will have to be adjusted to mine, else she will lose me altogether, for men have died of love, though Shakespeare says they haven't. Manet and Daudet—both died of love; and the somewhat absurd spectacle of a lover waiting for his mistress to return, and yet dreading her returning, was constantly before me.
It often seemed to me that it was my own weakness that created our embarrassment. A stronger man would have been able to find a way out, but I am not one that can shape and mould another according to my desire; and when she returned from Italy I found myself more helpless than ever, and I remember, and with shame, how, to avoid being alone with her, I would run down the entire length of a train, avoiding the empty carriages, crying Not here, not here! at last opening the door of one occupied by three or four people, who all looked as if they were bound for a long journey. I remember, too, how about this time I came with friends to see Stella, whether by accident or design, frankly I know not; I only know that I brought many friends to see her, thinking they would interest her.
If you don't care to come to see me without a chaperon, I would rather you didn't come at all, she said, humiliating me very deeply.
It seemed to me, I answered, blushing, that you would like to see ——, and I mentioned the name of the man who had accompanied me.
If I am cross sometimes it is because I don't see enough of you.
It seems to me that it was then that the resolve hardened in my heart to become her friend ... if she would allow me to become her friend. But in what words should I frame my request and my apology? All the time our life was becoming less amiable, until one evening I nipped the quarrel that was beginning, stopping suddenly at the end of the avenue.
It is better that we should understand each other. The plain truth is that I must cease to be your lover unless my life is to be sacrificed.
Cease to be my lover!
That is impossible, but a change comes into every love story.
The explanation stuttered on. I remember her saying: I don't wish you to sacrifice your life. I have forgotten the end of her sentence. She drew her hand suddenly across her eyes. I will conquer this obsession.
A man would have whined and cried and besought and worried his mistress out of her wits. Women behave better than we; only once did her feelings overcome her. She spoke to me of the deception that life is. Again we were standing by the gate at the end of the chestnut avenue, and I remembered her telling me how a few years ago life had seemed to hold out its hands to her; her painting and her youth created her enjoyment.
But now life seems to have shrivelled up, she said; only a little dust is left.
Nothing is changed, so far as you and I are concerned. We see each other just the same.
I am no more to you than any other woman.
She went away again to Italy to paint and returned to Ireland, and one day she came to see me, and remained talking for an hour. I have no memory of what we said to each other, but a very clear memory of our walk through Dublin over Carlisle Bridge and along the quays. I had accompanied her as far as the Phoenix Park gates, and at the corner of the Conyngham Road, just as I was bidding her goodbye, she said:
I want to ask your advice on a matter of importance to me.
And to me, for what is important to you is equally important to me.
I am thinking, she said, of being married.
At the news it seems to me that I was unduly elated and tried to assume the interest that a friend should.
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PROMPTS: George does not care about you, whatsoever.
Today's Reading, via Project Gutenberg:
Borde could not enlighten him on that point, and I suggested that he should make application to the publisher of his Prayer-Book and get his money back. There is nobody. I said, like him. He is more wonderful than anything in literature. I prefer him to Sancho who was untroubled with a conscience and never thought of running to the Bishop of Toledo. All the same he is not without the shrewdness of his ancestors, and got the better of Archbishop Walsh, and for the last five years Vincent O'Brien has been beating time, and will beat it till the end of his life; and he will be succeeded by others, for Edward has, by deed, saved the Italian contrapuntalists till time everlasting from competition with modern composers. He certainly has gotten the better of Walsh. And I thought of a picture-gallery in Dublin with nothing in it but Botticelli and his school, and myself declaring that all painting that had been done since had no interest for me.... A smile began to spread over my face, for the story that was coming into my mind seemed oh! so humorous, so like Ireland, so like Edward, that I began to tell myself again the delightful story of the unrefined ears that, weary of erudite music, had left the cathedral and sought instinctively modern tunes and women's voices, and as these were to be found in Westland Row the church was soon overflowing with a happy congregation. But in a little while the collections grew scantier. This time it couldn't be Palestrina, and all kinds of reasons were adduced. At last the truth could no longer be denied—the professional Catholics of Merrion Square had been driven out of Westland Row by the searching smells of dirty clothes, and had gone away to the University Church in Stephen's Green. So if it weren't Palestrina directly it was Palestrina indirectly, and the brows of the priests began to knit when Edward Martyn's name was mentioned. Them fal-de-dals is well enough on the Continent, in Paris, where there is no faith, was the opinion of an important ecclesiastic. But we don't want them here, murmured a second ecclesiastic. All this counterpoint may make a very pretty background for Mr Martyn's prayers, but what about the poor people's? Good composer or bad composer, there is no congregation in him, said a third. There's too much congregation, put in the first, but not the kind we want! The second ecclesiastic took snuff, and the group were of opinion that steps should be taken to persuade dear Edward to make good their losses. The priests in Marlborough Street sympathised with the priests of Westland Row, and told them that they were so heavily out of pocket that Mr Martyn had agreed to do something for them. It seemed to the Westland Row priests that if Mr Martyn were making good the losses of the priests of the pro-Cathedral, he should make good their losses. It was natural that they should think so, and to acquit himself of all responsibility Edward no doubt consulted the best theologians on the subject, and I think that they assured him that he is not responsible for indirect losses. If he were, his whole fortune would not suffice. He was, of course, very sorry if a sudden influx of poor people had caused a falling-off in the collections of Westland Row, for he knew that the priests needed the money very much to pay for the new decorations, and to help them he wrote an article in the Independent praising the new blue ceiling, which seemed, so he wrote, a worthy canopy for the soaring strains of Palestrina.
Unfortunately rubbing salt into the wound, I said. A story that will amuse Dujardin and it will be great fun telling him in the shady garden at Fontainebleau how Edward, anxious to do something for his church, had succeeded in emptying two. All the way down the alleys he will wonder how Edward could have ever looked upon Palestrina's masses as religious music. The only music he will say, in which religious emotion transpires is plain-chant. Huysmans says that the Tantum Ergo or the Dies Irae, one or the other, reminds him of a soul being dragged out of purgatory, and it is possible that it does; but a plain-chant tune arranged in eight-part counterpoint cannot remind one of anything very terrible. Dujardin knows that Palestrina was a priest, and he will say: That fact deceived your friend, just as the fact of finding the Adeste Fideles among the plain-chant tunes deceived him. For of course I shall tell Dujardin that story too. It is too good to be missed. He is wonderful, Dujardin! I shall cry out in one of the sinuous alleys. There never was anybody like him! And I will tell him more soul-revealing anecdotes. I will say: Dujardin, listen. One evening he contended that the great duet at the end of Siegfried reminded him of mass by Palestrina. Dujardin will laugh, and, excited by his laughter, I will try to explain to him that what Edward sees is that Palestrina took a plain chant tune and gave fragments of it to the different voices, and in his mind these become confused with the motives of The Ring. You see, Dujardin, the essential always escapes him—the intention of the writer is hidden from him. I am beginning to understand your friend. He has, let us suppose, a musical ear that allows him to take pleasure in the music; but a musical ear will not help him to follow Wagner's idea—how, in a transport of sexual emotion, a young man and a young woman on a mountain-side awaken to the beauty of the life of the world. Dujardin's appreciations will provoke me, and I will say: Dujardin, you shouldn't be so appreciative. If I were telling you of a play I had written, it would be delightful to watch my idea dawning upon your consciousness; but I am telling you of a real man, and one that I shall never to able to get into literature. He will answer: We invent nothing; we can but perceive. And then, exhilarated, carried beyond myself, I will say: Dujardin, I will tell you something still more wonderful than the last gaffe. II gaffe dans les Quat'z Arts. He admires Ibsen, but you'd never guess the reason why—because he is very like Racine; both of them, he says, are classical writers. And do you know how he arrived at that point? Because nobody is killed on the stage in Racine or in Ibsen. He does not see that the intention of Racine is to represent men and women out of time and out of space, unconditioned by environment, and that the very first principle of Ibsen's art is the relation of his characters to their environment. In many passages he merely dramatises Darwin. There never was anybody so interesting as dear Edward, and there never will be anybody like him in literature ... I will explain why presently, but I must first tell you another anecdote. I went to see him one night, and he told me that the theme of the play he was writing was a man who had married a woman because he had lost faith in himself; the man did not know, however, that the woman had married him for the same reason, and the two of them were thinking—I have forgotten what they were thinking, but I remember Edward saying: I should like to suggest hopelessness. I urged many phrases, but he said: It isn't a phrase I want, but an actual thing. I was thinking of a broken anchor—that surely is a symbol of hopelessness. Yes, I said, no doubt, but how are you going to get a broken anchor into a drawing-room? I don't write about drawing-rooms. Well, living-rooms. It isn't likely that they would buy a broken anchor and put it up by the coal-scuttle.
There's that against it, he answered. If you could suggest anything better—What do you think of a library in which there is nothing but unacted plays? The characters could say, when there was nothing for them to do on the stage, that they were going to the library to read, and the library would have the advantage of reminding everybody of the garret in the Wild Duck. A very cruel answer, my friend, Dujardin will say, and I will tell him that I can't help seeing in Edward something beyond Shakespeare or Balzac. Now, tell me, which of these anecdotes I have told you is the most humorous? He will not answer my question, but a certain thoughtfulness will begin to settle in his face, and he will say: Everything with him is accidental, and when his memory fails him he falls into another mistake, and he amuses you because it is impossible for you to anticipate his next mistake. You know there is going to be one; there must be one, for he sees things separately rather than relatively. I am beginning to understand your friend.
You are, you are; you are doing splendidly. But you haven't told me, Dujardin, which anecdote you prefer. Stay, there is another one. Perhaps this one will help you to a still better understanding. When he brought The Heather Field and Yeats's play The Countess Cathleen to Dublin for performance, a great trouble of conscience awakened suddenly in him, and a few days before the performance he went to a theologian to ask him if The Countess Cathleen were a heretical work, and, if it were would Almighty God hold him responsible for the performance? But he couldn't withdraw Yeats's play without withdrawing his own, and it appears that he breathed a sigh of relief when a common friend referred the whole matter to two other theologians, and as these gave their consent Edward allowed the plays to go on; but Cardinal Logue intervened, and wrote a letter to the papers to say that the play seemed to him unfit for Catholic ears, and Edward would have withdrawn the plays if the Cardinal hadn't admitted in his letter that he had judged the play by certain extracts only.
He wishes to act rightly, but has little faith in himself; and what makes him so amusing is that he needs advice in aesthetics as well as in morals. We are, I said, Dujardin, at the roots of conscience. And I began to ponder the question what would happen to Edward if we lived in a world in which aesthetics ruled: I should be where Bishop Healy is, and he would be a thin, small voice crying in the wilderness—an amusing subject of meditation, from which I awoke suddenly.
I wonder how Dujardin is getting on with his Biblical studies? Last year he was calling into question the authorship of the Romans—a most eccentric view; and, remembering how weakly I had answered him, I took the Bible from the table and began to read the Epistle with a view to furnishing myself with arguments wherewith to confute him. My Bible opened at the ninth chapter, and I said: Why, here is the authority for the Countess Cathleen's sacrifice which Edward's theologian deemed untheological. It will be great fun to poke Edward up with St Paul, and on my way to Lincoln Place I thought how I might lead the conversation to The Countess Cathleen.
📷
A few minutes afterwards a light appeared on the staircase and the door slowly opened.
Come in, Siegfried, though you were off the key.
Well, my dear friend, it is a difficult matter to whistle above two trams passing simultaneously and six people jabbering round a public-house, to say nothing of a jarvey or two, and you perhaps dozing in your armchair, as your habit often is. You won't open to anything else except a motive from The Ring; and I stumbled up the stairs in front of Edward, who followed with a candle.
Wait a moment; let me go first and I'll turn up the gas.
You aren't sitting in the dark, are you?
No, but I read better by candle-light, and he blew out the candles in the tin candelabrum that he had made for himself. He is original even in his candelabrum; no one before him had ever thought of a caridelabrum in tin, and I fell to admiring his appearance more carefully than perhaps I had ever done before, so monumental did he seem lying on the little sofa sheltered from daughts by a screen, a shawl about his shoulders. His churchwarden was drawing famously, and I noticed his great square hands with strong fingers and square nails pared closely away, and as heretofore I admired the curve of the great belly, the thickness of the thighs, the length and breadth and the width of his foot hanging over the edge of the sofa, the apoplectic neck falling into great rolls of flesh, the humid eyes, the skull covered with short stubbly hair. I looked round the rooms and they seemed part of himself: the old green wallpaper on which he pins reproductions of the Italian masters. And I longed to peep once more into the bare bedroom into which he goes to fetch bottles of Apollinaris. Always original! Is there another man in this world whose income is two thousand a year, and who sleeps in a bare bedroom, without dressing-room, or bathroom, or servant in the house to brush his clothes, and who has to go to the baker's for his breakfast?
We had been talking for some time of the Gaelic League, and from Hyde it was easy to pass to Yeats and his plays.
His best play is The Countess Cathleen.
The Countess Cathleen is only a sketch.
But what I never could understand, Edward, was why you and the Cardinal could have had any doubts as to the orthodoxy of The Countess Cathleen.
What, a woman that sells her own soul in order to save the souls of others!
I suppose your theologian objected—
Of course he objected.
He cannot have read St Paul.
What do you mean?
He can't have read St Paul, or else he is prepared to throw over St Paul.
Mon ami Moore, mon ami Moore.
The supernatural idealism of a man who would sell his soul to save the souls of others fills me with awe.
But it wasn't a man; it was the Countess Cathleen, and women are never idealists.
Not the saints?
His face grew solemn at once.
If you give me the Epistles I will read the passage to you. And it was great fun to go to the bookshelves and read: I say the truth in Christ, I lie not, my conscience also bearing me witness in the Holy Ghost, that I have great heaviness and continual sorrow in my heart. For I could wish that myself were accursed from Christ for my brethren, my kinsmen according to the flesh.
Edward's face grew more and more solemn, and I wondered of what he was thinking.
Paul is a very difficult and a very obscure writer, and I think the Church is quite right not to encourage the reading of the Epistles, especially without comments.
Then you do think there is something in the passage I have read?
After looking down his dignified nose for a long time, he said:
Of course, the Church has an explanation. All the same, it's very odd that St Paul should have said such a thing—very odd.
There is no doubt that I owe a great deal of my happiness to Edward; all my life long he has been exquisite entertainment. And I fell to thinking that Nature was very cruel to have led me, like Moses, within sight of the Promised Land. A story would be necessary to bring Edward into literature, and it would be impossible to devise an action of which he should be a part. The sex of a woman is odious to him, and a man with two thousand a year does not rob nor steal, and he is so uninterested in his fellow-men that he has never an ill word to say about anybody. John Eglinton is a little thing; AE is a soul that few will understand; but Edward is universal—more universal than Yeats, than myself, than any of us, but for lack of a story I shall not be able to give him the immortality in literature which he seeks in sacraments. Shakespeare always took his stories from some other people. Turgenev's portrait of him would be thin, poor, and evasive, and Balzac would give us the portrait of a mere fool. And Edward is not a fool. As I understand him he is a temperament without a rudder; all he has to rely upon is his memory, which isn't a very good one, and so he tumbles from one mistake into another. My God! it is a terrible thing to happen to one, to understand a man better than he understands himself, and to be powerless to help him. If I had been able to undo his faith I should have raised him to the level of Sir Horace Plunkett, but he resisted me; and perhaps he did well, for he came into the world seeing things separately rather than relatively, and had to be a Catholic. He is a born Catholic, and I remembered one of his confessions—a partial confession, but a confession: If you had been brought up as strictly as I have been—I don't think he ever finished the sentence; he often leaves sentences unfinished, as if he fears to think things out. The end of the sentence should run: You would not dare to think independently. He thinks that his severe bringing-up has robbed him of something. But the prisoner ends by liking his prison-house, and on another occasion he said: If it hadn't been for the Church, I don't know what would have happened to me.
My thoughts stopped, and when I awoke I was thinking of Hughes. Perhaps the link between Hughes and Edward was Loughrea Cathedral. He had shown me a photograph of some saints modelled by Hughes. Hughes is away in Paris, I said, modelling saints for Loughrea Cathedral. The last time I saw him was at Walter Osborne's funeral, and Walter's death set me thinking of the woman I had lost, and little by little all she had told me about herself floated up in my mind like something that I had read. I had never seen her father nor the Putney villa in which she had been brought up, but she had made me familiar with both through her pleasant mode of conversation, which was never to describe anything, but just to talk about things, dropping phrases here and there, and the phrases she dropped were so well chosen that the comfort of the villa, its pompous meals and numerous servants, its gardens and greenhouses, with stables and coach-house just behind, are as well known to me as the house that I am living in, better known in a way, for I see it through the eyes of the imagination ... clearer eyes than the physical eyes.
It does not seem to me that any one was ever more conscious of whence she had come and of what she had been; she seemed to be able to see herself as a child again, and to describe her childhood with her brother (they were nearly the same age) in the villa and in the villa's garden. I seemed to see them always as two rather staid children who were being constantly dressed by diligent nurses and taken out for long drives in the family carriage. They did not like these drives and used to hide in the garden; but their governess was sent to fetch them, and they were brought back. Her father did not like to have the horses kept waiting, and one day as Stella stood with him in the passage, she saw her mother come out of her bedroom beautifully dressed. Her father whispered something in his wife's ear, and he followed her into her bedroom. Stella remembered how the door closed behind them. In my telling, the incident seems to lose some of its point, but in Stella's relation it seemed to put her father and his wife before me and so clearly that I could not help asking her what answer her father would make were she to tell him that she had a lover. A smile hovered in her grave face. He would look embarrassed, she said, and wonder why I should have told him such a thing, and then I think he would go to the greenhouse, and when he returned he would talk to me about something quite different. I don't think that Stella ever told me about the people that came to their house, but people must have come to it, and as an example of how a few words can convey an environment I will quote her: I always wanted to talk about Rossetti, she said, and these seven words seem to me to tell better than any description the life of a girl living with a formal father in a Putney villa, longing for something, not knowing exactly what, and anxious to get away from home.... I think she told me she was eighteen or nineteen and had started painting before she met Florence at the house of one of her father's friends; a somewhat sore point this meeting was, for Florence was looked upon by Stella's father as something of a Bohemian. She was a painter, and knew all the Art classes and the fees that had to be paid, and led Stella into the world of studios and models and girl friends. She knew how to find studios and could plan out a journey abroad. Stella's imagination was captured, and even if her father had tried to offer opposition to her leaving home he could not have prevented her, for she was an heiress (her mother was dead and had left her a considerable income); but he did not try, and the two girls set up house together in Chelsea; they travelled in Italy and Spain; they had a cottage in the country; they painted pictures and exhibited their pictures in the same exhibitions; they gave dances in their studios and were attracted by this young man and the other; but Stella did not give herself to any one, because, as she admitted to me, she was afraid that a lover would interrupt the devotion which she intended to give to Art. But life is forever casting itself into new shapes and forms, and no sooner had she begun to express herself in Art than she met me. I was about to go to Ireland to preach a new gospel, and must have seemed a very impulsive and fantastic person to her, but were not impulsiveness and fantasy just the qualities that would appeal to her? And were not gravity and good sense the qualities that would appeal to me, determined as I was then to indulge myself in a little madness?
I could not have chosen a saner companion than Stella; my instinct had led me to her; but because one man's instinct is a little more clear than another's, it does not follow that he has called reason to his aid. It must be remembered always that the art of painting is as inveterate in me as the art of writing, and that I am never altogether myself when far away from the smell of oil paint. Stella could talk to one about painting, and all through that wonderful summer described in Salve our talk flowed on as delightfully as a breeze in Maytime, and as irresponsible, flashing thoughts going by and avowals perfumed with memories. Only in her garden did conversation fail us, for in her garden Stella could think only of her flowers, and it seemed an indiscretion to follow her as she went through the twilight gathering dead blooms or freeing plants from noxious insects. But she would have had me follow her, and I think was always a little grieved that I wasn't as interested in her garden as I was in her painting; and my absent-mindedness when I followed her often vexed her and my mistakes distressed her.
You are interested, she said, only in what I say about flowers and not in the flowers themselves. You like to hear me tell about Miss —— whose business in life is to grow carnations, because you already see her, dimly, perhaps, but still you see her in a story. Forget her and look at this Miss Shifner!
Yes, it is beautiful, but we can only admire the flowers that we notice when we are children, I answered. Dahlias, china roses, red and yellow tulips, tawny wallflowers, purple pansies, are never long out of my thoughts, and all the wonderful varieties of the iris, the beautiful blue satin and the cream, some shining like porcelain, even the common iris that grows about the moat.
But there were carnations in your mother's garden?
Yes, and I remember seeing them being tied with bass. But what did you say yesterday about carnations? That they were the—
She laughed and would not tell me, and when the twilight stooped over the high trees and the bats flitted and the garden was silent except when a fish leaped, I begged her to come away to the wild growths that I loved better than the flowers.
But the mallow and willow-weed are the only two that you recognise. How many times have I told you the difference between self-heal and tufted vetch?
I like cow parsley and wild hyacinths and—
You have forgotten the name. As well speak of a woman that you loved but whose name you had forgotten.
Well, if I have, I love trees better than you do, Stella. You pass under a fir unstirred by the mystery of its branches, and I wonder at you, for I am a tree worshipper, even as my ancestors, and am moved as they were by the dizzy height of a great silver fir. You like to paint trees, and I should like to paint flowers if I could paint; there we are set forth, you and I.
I have told in Salve that in Rathfarnham she found many motives for painting; the shape of the land and the spire above the straggling village appealed to me, but she was not altogether herself in these pictures. She would have liked the village away, for man and his dwellings did not form part of her conception of a landscape; large trees and a flight of clouds above the trees were her selection, and the almost unconscious life of kine wandering or sheep seeking the shelter of a tree.
Stella was a good walker, and we followed the long road leading from Rathfarnham up the hills, stopping to admire the long plain which we could see through the comely trees shooting out of the shelving hillside.
If I have beguiled you into a country where there are no artists and few men of letters, you can't say that I have not shown you comely trees. And now if you can walk two miles farther up this steep road I will show you a lovely prospect.
And I enjoyed her grave admiration of the old Queen Anne dwelling-house, its rough masonry, the yew hedges, the path along the hillside leading to the Druid altar and the coast-line sweeping in beautiful curves, but she did not like to hear me say that the drawing of the shore reminded her of Corot.
It is a sad affectation, she said, to speak of Nature reminding one of pictures.
Well, the outlines of Howth are beautiful, I answered, and the haze is incomparable. I should like to have spoken about a piece of sculpture, but for your sake, Stella, I refrain.
She was interested in things rather than ideas, and I remember her saying to me that things interest us only because we know that they are always slipping from us. A strange thing for a woman to say to her lover. She noticed all the changes of the seasons and loved them, and taught me to love them. She brought a lamb back from Rathfarnham, a poor forlorn thing that had run bleating so pitifully across the windy field that she had asked the shepherd where the ewe was, and he had answered that she had been killed overnight by a golf-ball. The lamb will be dead before morning, he added. And it was that March that the donkey produced a foal, a poor ragged thing that did not look as if it ever could be larger than a goat, but the donkey loved her foal.
Do you know the names of those two birds flying up and down the river?
They look to me like two large wrens with white waistcoats.
They are water-ouzels, she said.
The birds flew with rapid strokes of the wings, like kingfishers, alighting constantly on the river, on large mossy stones, and though we saw them plunge into the water, it was not to swim, but to run along the bottom in search of worms.
But do worms live under water?
The rooks were building, and a little while after a great scuffling was heard in one of the chimneys and a young jackdaw came down and soon became tamer than any bird I had ever seen, tamer than a parrot, and at the end of May the corncrake called from the meadow that summer had come again, and the kine wandered in deeper and deeper and deeper herbage. The days seemed never to end, and looking through the branches of the chestnut in which the fruit had not begun to show, we caught sight of a strange spectacle. Stella said, A lunar rainbow, and I wondered, never having heard of or seen such a thing before.
I shall never forget that rainbow, Stella, and am glad that we saw it together.
In every love story lovers reprove each other for lack of affection, and Stella had often sent me angry letters which caused me many heart-burnings and brought me out to her; in the garden there were reconciliations, we picked up the thread again, and the summer had passed before the reason of these quarrels became clear to me. One September evening Stella said she would accompany me to the gate, and we had not gone very far before I began to notice that she was quarrelling with me. She spoke of the loneliness of the Moat House, and I had answered that she had not been alone two evenings that week. She admitted my devotion. And if you admit that there has been no neglect—
She would not tell me, but there was something she was not satisfied with, and before we reached the end of the avenue she said, I don't think I can tell you. But on being pressed she said:
Well, you don't make love to me often enough.
And full of apologies I answered, Let me go back.
No, I can't have you back now, not after having spoken like that.
But she yielded to my invitation, and we returned to the house, and next morning I went back to Dublin a little dazed, a little shaken.
A few days after she went away to Italy to spend the winter and wrote me long letters, interesting me in herself, in the villagers, in the walks and the things that she saw in her walks, setting me sighing that she was away from me, or that I was not with her. And going to the window I would stand for a long time watching the hawthorns in their bleak wintry discontent, thinking how the sunlight fell into the Italian gardens, and caught the corner of the ruin she was sketching; and I let my fancy stray for a time unchecked. It would be wonderful to be in Italy with her, but—
I turned from the window suspicious, for there was a feeling at the back of my mind that with her return an anxiety would come into my life that I would willingly be without. She had told me she had refrained from a lover because she wished to keep all herself for her painting, and now she had taken to herself a lover. She was twenty years younger than I was, and at forty-six or thereabouts one begins to feel that one's time for love is over; one is consultant rather than practitioner. But it was impossible to dismiss the subject with a jest, and I found myself face to face with the question—If these twenty years were removed, would things be different? It seemed to me that the difficulty that had arisen would have been the same earlier in my life as it was now, and returning to the window I watched the hawthorns blowing under the cold grey Dublin sky.
The problem is set, I said, for the married, and every couple has to solve it in one way or another, but they have to solve it; they have to come to terms with love, especially the man, for whom it is a question of life and death. But how do they come to terms? And I thought of the different married people I knew. Which would be most likely to advise me—the man or the woman? It would be no use to seek advice; every case is different, I said. If anybody were to advise me it would be the man, for the problem is not so difficult for a woman. She can escape from love more easily than her lover or her husband; she can plead, and her many pleadings were considered, one by one, and how in married life the solution that seems to lovers so difficult is solved by marriage itself, by propinquity. But not always, not always. The question is one of extraordinary interest and importance; more marriages come to shipwreck, I am convinced, on this very question than upon any other. In the divorce cases published we read of incompatibility of temper and lack of mutual tastes, mere euphemisms that deceive nobody. The image of a shipwreck rose up in me naturally. She will return, and like a ship our love for each other will be beaten on these rocks and broken. We shall not be able to get out to sea. She will return, and when she returns her temperament will have to be adjusted to mine, else she will lose me altogether, for men have died of love, though Shakespeare says they haven't. Manet and Daudet—both died of love; and the somewhat absurd spectacle of a lover waiting for his mistress to return, and yet dreading her returning, was constantly before me.
It often seemed to me that it was my own weakness that created our embarrassment. A stronger man would have been able to find a way out, but I am not one that can shape and mould another according to my desire; and when she returned from Italy I found myself more helpless than ever, and I remember, and with shame, how, to avoid being alone with her, I would run down the entire length of a train, avoiding the empty carriages, crying Not here, not here! at last opening the door of one occupied by three or four people, who all looked as if they were bound for a long journey. I remember, too, how about this time I came with friends to see Stella, whether by accident or design, frankly I know not; I only know that I brought many friends to see her, thinking they would interest her.
If you don't care to come to see me without a chaperon, I would rather you didn't come at all, she said, humiliating me very deeply.
It seemed to me, I answered, blushing, that you would like to see ——, and I mentioned the name of the man who had accompanied me.
If I am cross sometimes it is because I don't see enough of you.
It seems to me that it was then that the resolve hardened in my heart to become her friend ... if she would allow me to become her friend. But in what words should I frame my request and my apology? All the time our life was becoming less amiable, until one evening I nipped the quarrel that was beginning, stopping suddenly at the end of the avenue.
It is better that we should understand each other. The plain truth is that I must cease to be your lover unless my life is to be sacrificed.
Cease to be my lover!
That is impossible, but a change comes into every love story.
The explanation stuttered on. I remember her saying: I don't wish you to sacrifice your life. I have forgotten the end of her sentence. She drew her hand suddenly across her eyes. I will conquer this obsession.
A man would have whined and cried and besought and worried his mistress out of her wits. Women behave better than we; only once did her feelings overcome her. She spoke to me of the deception that life is. Again we were standing by the gate at the end of the chestnut avenue, and I remembered her telling me how a few years ago life had seemed to hold out its hands to her; her painting and her youth created her enjoyment.
But now life seems to have shrivelled up, she said; only a little dust is left.
Nothing is changed, so far as you and I are concerned. We see each other just the same.
I am no more to you than any other woman.
She went away again to Italy to paint and returned to Ireland, and one day she came to see me, and remained talking for an hour. I have no memory of what we said to each other, but a very clear memory of our walk through Dublin over Carlisle Bridge and along the quays. I had accompanied her as far as the Phoenix Park gates, and at the corner of the Conyngham Road, just as I was bidding her goodbye, she said:
I want to ask your advice on a matter of importance to me.
And to me, for what is important to you is equally important to me.
I am thinking, she said, of being married.
At the news it seems to me that I was unduly elated and tried to assume the interest that a friend should.
2023.05.28 13:28 GJW2019 9 Days in Rome
Just back from a glorious 9 days in Rome. There's no other place like it and I felt so lucky to be able to go, My three initial aims in this trip were: (a) see my hometown hero Bruce Springsteen amongst my ancestral people (they literally sing along to not just the lyrics but the guitar riffs etc too) as well as (b) sink or swim as I continue to practice my Italian language skills (I've been taking lessons with a tutor for 2 years but there's nothing like just being thrown into the world of the language to sharpen up and get very comfortable conversing) and (c) do hours upon hours of photo walks (I ended up averaging 30k steps a day every day aside from the two sick days).
In brief, I split the trip up into two halves: the first half I stayed up on Avantino hill (it's very close to the Circo Massimo, so it was an easy spot for the concert) and the second half in a quiet pocket of Trastevere a block or two west of the river south of Ponte Paladino. My Avantino air bnb host gave me some great neighborhood places in nearby Testaccio (another wonderful neighborhood that tourists don't seem to wander into very much), and I found a fantastic and slightly quirky place for espresso also in Testaccio (I'm an espresso fiend). If you haven't been to Avantino, it almost reminded me of the Italian Beacon Hill (for those familiar with Boston). It had the feeling of a Tuscan village that just happened to be somehow in the middle of Rome. It's where the famous key hole is that frames St. Peters, as well as the Giardino degli Aranci and Santa Sabina's, which is a gorgeous church from 422 AD. Staying here felt very relaxing and peaceful and even though some tourists did make their way to the keyhole every day, it had a very tranquil vibe, despite the fact that Circo Massimo was 5 minutes north and Testaccio was 5 minutes south.
Given that my favorite thing to do on vacation is just wander around with my Ricoh GR, I would begin every day in Avantino thusly: Get up, have an espresso at Tram Depot (always at the bar), walk around for a few hours and just see what I can find. Maybe I'd get a quick breakfast bite at the outstanding Casa Manco in the Testaccio market. Then I'd go to for a big lunch at the wonderful Pecorino (also in Testaccio). This lunch would usually last an hour or two. It's a very cozy restaurant and the waiters are all very nice and so I'd often bring a book along with me or a notebook or I'd transfer pictures from my camera to my phone for editing in between courses. Lunch was often my largest meal of the day and sometimes my only "meal" of the day. (In normal life I train for marathons and am in the gym often and I'm super on top of my macros and making sure I get X amount of protein etc...on this trip, this was not the case.) If I couldn't get into Pecorino for lunch or didn't end up in that area for lunch time, I'd either go there for dinner when they opened, or another excellent Testaccio spot called Perilli's. (There's also Piato Romano, which had excellent food but not quite the same cozy ambience as Pecorino.) I pretty much mainlined Amatriciana and Carbonara along with involtini, braised oxtail, and as much tiramisu as I could politely hurl into my maw. I like establishing some routines or rituals when I travel, especially when I travel solo, to help give the trip some grounding. It's also nice when you are far from home to be able to walk into a place where people begin to recognize you and accept you into their little circle, even if it is temporary. For the second half of the trip in Trastevere...I got COVID! Sort of. The day after the concert, I noticed a heavy feeling in my upper airway/chest, but I figured it must have been all the second hand smoke I inhaled during the concert (from my observations, Romans thoroughly enjoy cigarettes). I wear an oura ring and while my HRV was low, nothing else stood out. That night though I developed a fever and spent the entire next day in bed. I was bummed, but frankly, after 5 nights in a row of being out from 8am to midnight, I needed a rest day anyway, so it wasn't bad timing. (How's that for spin?) Not sure what my actual temperature was, but my oura ring said I was 4.3 degrees above my nightly average baseline, so I'm guessing my temperature was around 100-101 as my normal temperature on a thermometer seems to be around 96.6. I spent a good chunk of the next day in bed also, just napping (which was fairly pleasant as the cool breeze came in through the window, carrying the sounds of the three churches on Avantino, not to mention the bird calls and the pleasing sounds of people enjoying their meals on the street below). My baseline temp deviation was only +2 degrees the second night and by the end of the day, I felt good enough to have an appetite, but not quite good enough to stand upright, so I ordered some Trapizzino on uber eats (the polpetti/sugo and the melanzane were both glorious) and that revived me. By the next morning I was better! (In the end, I think this was covid because while I only had the fever for the two sick days, I lost most of my sense of smell sometime Thursday afternoon despite feeling fine. So maybe Covid? In the end, I missed out on a trip to Ostia Antica and a food tour, but the trip still felt extremely full of experiences.) The rest of my time in Trastevere was great. Just wandering all around those crazy little winding streets, snapping away, always fueld by a caffè from the gruff but character-rich Bar San Calisto or the one across from my apartment, which was called "404 Name Not Found." I did eat lunch one day at Da Enzo which was good but not sure it's worth the hype given how much excellent food I had at restaurants with very little fanfare. Da Enzo ended up being a great experience though because when they asked me how many and I said, "da solo," they asked if I would share the table if there was another single. I said sure, and ended up being paired up with a fellow endurance athlete, this one from France. Just one of the many fanciful moments that can happen when you travel solo. We also hung out again the next day for most of the morning and afternoon, and this was a sort of theme for my trip: running into people left and right, connecting, and making fast friends. This is how I found myself getting invited to a Roman birthday party at the Piazza Testaccio one night for what felt like my 10th "out past midnight" night of the trip (again, a far cry from my normal life of "in bed at 9"). In the end, what I will take away from this trip are a few things: -the magic of learning a second language, and noticing your skills improving with every chat. Just the pleasure of hearing the Italian language and getting to practice it all day, every day (while making many mistakes). If you're going to Rome or Italy in general, I highly recommend you try and get yourself up to A2 in Italian. It's such a pleasurable language to speak and embrace, even if it's just at a beginner's level. -the many conversations I had with shop owners or fellow bar patrons and the high-five I would give myself in my head when they would ask "if you're American, how come your accent is so good?" (Again, I'm a B1 speaker on my best day, but the compliment would always make my day given my beginner's nervousness at the start of the trip). A few times, people even just began talking to me, assuming I was Italian. (I am Italian-American, but having a Roman just start talking to you as one of their own meant a lot to the part of me that loves being Italian and feels a strong connection to the country, even from afar.) -The Italian crowd at the Bruce show. Just a blast to sing along with them into the Roman sky, surrounded by ruins. -Mornings in Avantino spent in quiet contemplation in Santa Sabina or St Anselmo. A few times, the respective organists were practicing and I got my own concert. -After my two days sick in bed, when I returned to the Tram Depot and Casa Manco for sustenance, the proprietors both asked me one version or another or "tutto bene?" (as if to say, where ya been?). The man at Casa Manco blurted out "buon tornato!" when he saw me approach. Very warm-hearted people and they made me feel at home (along with the Pecorino staff, who were very kind to me and likely a little amused, wondering, why is this random American dude here every day eating for 2 hours?) -A basic observation: I appreciated how people across seemingly different walks of life all talk to each other as equals. I saw street sweepers chatting with businessmen in the street in a way that would seem less likely in America. Maybe this is a class thing? Perhaps the gap in salaries is not so large like it is in America, and therefore people feel like one giant middle class together? Related: many younger Italians I spoke to told me how hard it was to live in Rome as a young person, as salaries were not very good, and unless you had 1-2 roommates or parents who could pay your rent, you would most likely have a longer commute coming into the city every day. -The fact that behind every nook and cranny and around every corner, there is something spectacular to see. Whether it's the ruins that stand adjacent to the jewish ghetto in a reminder of the layers upon layers of civilizations that once existed in this city, or just the way the morning light creates a shaft down some medieval cobblestone street, it is a magical place to walk around. By the end of each very long day, my mind was just fried, both from working overtime with trying to speak Italian and from the sheer overstimulation of seeing so much beauty. Anyway, this was not my first trip to Rome, but it was my first trip in MANY years, and it was precisely the life affirming and humanity affirming trip I needed this year after a rough and precarious start to 2023. Next trip, I will likely fly into Rome, spend 3-ish days there, and then head somewhere to the southern coast. As much as I love Roman food, it would be nice to be inundated with fresh sardines the same way this trip found me OD'ing on carbonara.
To me, this trip really captured the beauty of solo travel: I had plenty of experiences to enjoy my own company, but my enjoying the language and culture, I was eager to seek out interactions, and many of those interactions lead to further interactions. Whether it was helping an older Italian woman find the church she was looking for and the ensuing 20 minute conversation in Italian as we navigated, or wandering into a green juice place in Rome and expressing my shock and appreciation at the sight of vegetables to the owner that lead into a conversation about my union's current strike or finding an amazing children's book store while searching for a gift for my nephew and talking to the owner of the shop about books for an hour, just seeking ways to meaningfully engage and having a curiosity about the people and places I encountered really made for an enriching solo travel experience, because as Rolf Potts points out, had I been with a friend on this trip, we would have created our own bubble, and this bubble would have kept others out.
Anyway, thank you to Rome and it's people for one of the best times in my 39 years. (If anyone is curious, I'll be posting many photos from this trip at my IG@ rovinglumix.
submitted by GJW2019 to solotravel [link] [comments]
In brief, I split the trip up into two halves: the first half I stayed up on Avantino hill (it's very close to the Circo Massimo, so it was an easy spot for the concert) and the second half in a quiet pocket of Trastevere a block or two west of the river south of Ponte Paladino. My Avantino air bnb host gave me some great neighborhood places in nearby Testaccio (another wonderful neighborhood that tourists don't seem to wander into very much), and I found a fantastic and slightly quirky place for espresso also in Testaccio (I'm an espresso fiend). If you haven't been to Avantino, it almost reminded me of the Italian Beacon Hill (for those familiar with Boston). It had the feeling of a Tuscan village that just happened to be somehow in the middle of Rome. It's where the famous key hole is that frames St. Peters, as well as the Giardino degli Aranci and Santa Sabina's, which is a gorgeous church from 422 AD. Staying here felt very relaxing and peaceful and even though some tourists did make their way to the keyhole every day, it had a very tranquil vibe, despite the fact that Circo Massimo was 5 minutes north and Testaccio was 5 minutes south.
Given that my favorite thing to do on vacation is just wander around with my Ricoh GR, I would begin every day in Avantino thusly: Get up, have an espresso at Tram Depot (always at the bar), walk around for a few hours and just see what I can find. Maybe I'd get a quick breakfast bite at the outstanding Casa Manco in the Testaccio market. Then I'd go to for a big lunch at the wonderful Pecorino (also in Testaccio). This lunch would usually last an hour or two. It's a very cozy restaurant and the waiters are all very nice and so I'd often bring a book along with me or a notebook or I'd transfer pictures from my camera to my phone for editing in between courses. Lunch was often my largest meal of the day and sometimes my only "meal" of the day. (In normal life I train for marathons and am in the gym often and I'm super on top of my macros and making sure I get X amount of protein etc...on this trip, this was not the case.) If I couldn't get into Pecorino for lunch or didn't end up in that area for lunch time, I'd either go there for dinner when they opened, or another excellent Testaccio spot called Perilli's. (There's also Piato Romano, which had excellent food but not quite the same cozy ambience as Pecorino.) I pretty much mainlined Amatriciana and Carbonara along with involtini, braised oxtail, and as much tiramisu as I could politely hurl into my maw. I like establishing some routines or rituals when I travel, especially when I travel solo, to help give the trip some grounding. It's also nice when you are far from home to be able to walk into a place where people begin to recognize you and accept you into their little circle, even if it is temporary. For the second half of the trip in Trastevere...I got COVID! Sort of. The day after the concert, I noticed a heavy feeling in my upper airway/chest, but I figured it must have been all the second hand smoke I inhaled during the concert (from my observations, Romans thoroughly enjoy cigarettes). I wear an oura ring and while my HRV was low, nothing else stood out. That night though I developed a fever and spent the entire next day in bed. I was bummed, but frankly, after 5 nights in a row of being out from 8am to midnight, I needed a rest day anyway, so it wasn't bad timing. (How's that for spin?) Not sure what my actual temperature was, but my oura ring said I was 4.3 degrees above my nightly average baseline, so I'm guessing my temperature was around 100-101 as my normal temperature on a thermometer seems to be around 96.6. I spent a good chunk of the next day in bed also, just napping (which was fairly pleasant as the cool breeze came in through the window, carrying the sounds of the three churches on Avantino, not to mention the bird calls and the pleasing sounds of people enjoying their meals on the street below). My baseline temp deviation was only +2 degrees the second night and by the end of the day, I felt good enough to have an appetite, but not quite good enough to stand upright, so I ordered some Trapizzino on uber eats (the polpetti/sugo and the melanzane were both glorious) and that revived me. By the next morning I was better! (In the end, I think this was covid because while I only had the fever for the two sick days, I lost most of my sense of smell sometime Thursday afternoon despite feeling fine. So maybe Covid? In the end, I missed out on a trip to Ostia Antica and a food tour, but the trip still felt extremely full of experiences.) The rest of my time in Trastevere was great. Just wandering all around those crazy little winding streets, snapping away, always fueld by a caffè from the gruff but character-rich Bar San Calisto or the one across from my apartment, which was called "404 Name Not Found." I did eat lunch one day at Da Enzo which was good but not sure it's worth the hype given how much excellent food I had at restaurants with very little fanfare. Da Enzo ended up being a great experience though because when they asked me how many and I said, "da solo," they asked if I would share the table if there was another single. I said sure, and ended up being paired up with a fellow endurance athlete, this one from France. Just one of the many fanciful moments that can happen when you travel solo. We also hung out again the next day for most of the morning and afternoon, and this was a sort of theme for my trip: running into people left and right, connecting, and making fast friends. This is how I found myself getting invited to a Roman birthday party at the Piazza Testaccio one night for what felt like my 10th "out past midnight" night of the trip (again, a far cry from my normal life of "in bed at 9"). In the end, what I will take away from this trip are a few things: -the magic of learning a second language, and noticing your skills improving with every chat. Just the pleasure of hearing the Italian language and getting to practice it all day, every day (while making many mistakes). If you're going to Rome or Italy in general, I highly recommend you try and get yourself up to A2 in Italian. It's such a pleasurable language to speak and embrace, even if it's just at a beginner's level. -the many conversations I had with shop owners or fellow bar patrons and the high-five I would give myself in my head when they would ask "if you're American, how come your accent is so good?" (Again, I'm a B1 speaker on my best day, but the compliment would always make my day given my beginner's nervousness at the start of the trip). A few times, people even just began talking to me, assuming I was Italian. (I am Italian-American, but having a Roman just start talking to you as one of their own meant a lot to the part of me that loves being Italian and feels a strong connection to the country, even from afar.) -The Italian crowd at the Bruce show. Just a blast to sing along with them into the Roman sky, surrounded by ruins. -Mornings in Avantino spent in quiet contemplation in Santa Sabina or St Anselmo. A few times, the respective organists were practicing and I got my own concert. -After my two days sick in bed, when I returned to the Tram Depot and Casa Manco for sustenance, the proprietors both asked me one version or another or "tutto bene?" (as if to say, where ya been?). The man at Casa Manco blurted out "buon tornato!" when he saw me approach. Very warm-hearted people and they made me feel at home (along with the Pecorino staff, who were very kind to me and likely a little amused, wondering, why is this random American dude here every day eating for 2 hours?) -A basic observation: I appreciated how people across seemingly different walks of life all talk to each other as equals. I saw street sweepers chatting with businessmen in the street in a way that would seem less likely in America. Maybe this is a class thing? Perhaps the gap in salaries is not so large like it is in America, and therefore people feel like one giant middle class together? Related: many younger Italians I spoke to told me how hard it was to live in Rome as a young person, as salaries were not very good, and unless you had 1-2 roommates or parents who could pay your rent, you would most likely have a longer commute coming into the city every day. -The fact that behind every nook and cranny and around every corner, there is something spectacular to see. Whether it's the ruins that stand adjacent to the jewish ghetto in a reminder of the layers upon layers of civilizations that once existed in this city, or just the way the morning light creates a shaft down some medieval cobblestone street, it is a magical place to walk around. By the end of each very long day, my mind was just fried, both from working overtime with trying to speak Italian and from the sheer overstimulation of seeing so much beauty. Anyway, this was not my first trip to Rome, but it was my first trip in MANY years, and it was precisely the life affirming and humanity affirming trip I needed this year after a rough and precarious start to 2023. Next trip, I will likely fly into Rome, spend 3-ish days there, and then head somewhere to the southern coast. As much as I love Roman food, it would be nice to be inundated with fresh sardines the same way this trip found me OD'ing on carbonara.
To me, this trip really captured the beauty of solo travel: I had plenty of experiences to enjoy my own company, but my enjoying the language and culture, I was eager to seek out interactions, and many of those interactions lead to further interactions. Whether it was helping an older Italian woman find the church she was looking for and the ensuing 20 minute conversation in Italian as we navigated, or wandering into a green juice place in Rome and expressing my shock and appreciation at the sight of vegetables to the owner that lead into a conversation about my union's current strike or finding an amazing children's book store while searching for a gift for my nephew and talking to the owner of the shop about books for an hour, just seeking ways to meaningfully engage and having a curiosity about the people and places I encountered really made for an enriching solo travel experience, because as Rolf Potts points out, had I been with a friend on this trip, we would have created our own bubble, and this bubble would have kept others out.
Anyway, thank you to Rome and it's people for one of the best times in my 39 years. (If anyone is curious, I'll be posting many photos from this trip at my IG@ rovinglumix.
2023.05.28 13:16 Appropriate_Hat_9642 Tips for those applying to medical school and couldn’t get a place in a UK university or fear they are not going to get their place.
Medical school is a very tough thing to get into for its high competitiveness. The A Levels are not the best way to determine if a person could be good at medical school. Hell, I got AABC in my A Levels and I am averaging 25.5/30 (85%) on my medical school exams (where the pass mark is 18/30, so 60%). Although, to be fair, I had undiagnosed ADHD and Dyslexia for my entire school career, and therefore kept running out of time for my A Levels. I was only diagnosed and treated after A Level results day. I also didn’t sit my A levels and was predicted A*AAB.
What if I told you that you can enter medical school without the universities caring about your A Level grade? Yes. Italy offers international medical schools with quality education. Italy is known to have one of the best clinical healthcares in the world. Italy can offer you a second chance to get enter medical school no matter what you have achieved in your A Levels (yes, even if you got Cs or Ds). This is because Italy has a totally different entrance exam for its medical schools. The entrance exams are almost analogous with the BMAT, and it is called the IMAT also written by Cambridge. The IMAT is basically the same as the BMAT, but has a general knowledge section instead of a essay section and it contains negative marking. So there is no essay section in the IMAT. The IMAT also tests you for mostly A Level knowledge, while the BMAT tests mostly GCSE knowledge.
The courses are in English. You will meet people from all across the world. The exams you do are oral (although this depends on the university). Yes, you have heard that right. Italy usually deploys oral examinations where you will speak to your professor during the exam. Some courses have written exams, but most courses are orally done. For example, I have a dermatology exam on the 31st, and it will be done orally. The professor will ask me to describe the lesions I can see in certain skin conditions, what diagnosis must be made, and how I can treat the said lesion. For skin cancers, I will be asked about the mutations and pathogenesis and would need to explain to the professor all I know.
Italian medical schools are always way way way cheaper than UK schools. Even if you are a foreigner. Depending on the school, you can pay as little as €400 A YEAR to €4,000 a year. And medical school is medical school, the courses and structure is mostly the same across the world. In fact, fees for non EU are cheaper than EU fees.
However, due to Brexit, British citizens are no longer European Union Citizens. This means you can only apply for one university out of the 14 (1 is dentistry), and you have to get a visa for your first year and then residency permits and permit of stay to be allowed to study in Italy. However, if you are an EU citizen, you can freely go to Italy and apply to these courses and you will not have to do any paper work.
For more details: https://www.medschool.it/admissions/imat-exam-date-calenda
submitted by Appropriate_Hat_9642 to 6thForm [link] [comments]
What if I told you that you can enter medical school without the universities caring about your A Level grade? Yes. Italy offers international medical schools with quality education. Italy is known to have one of the best clinical healthcares in the world. Italy can offer you a second chance to get enter medical school no matter what you have achieved in your A Levels (yes, even if you got Cs or Ds). This is because Italy has a totally different entrance exam for its medical schools. The entrance exams are almost analogous with the BMAT, and it is called the IMAT also written by Cambridge. The IMAT is basically the same as the BMAT, but has a general knowledge section instead of a essay section and it contains negative marking. So there is no essay section in the IMAT. The IMAT also tests you for mostly A Level knowledge, while the BMAT tests mostly GCSE knowledge.
The courses are in English. You will meet people from all across the world. The exams you do are oral (although this depends on the university). Yes, you have heard that right. Italy usually deploys oral examinations where you will speak to your professor during the exam. Some courses have written exams, but most courses are orally done. For example, I have a dermatology exam on the 31st, and it will be done orally. The professor will ask me to describe the lesions I can see in certain skin conditions, what diagnosis must be made, and how I can treat the said lesion. For skin cancers, I will be asked about the mutations and pathogenesis and would need to explain to the professor all I know.
Italian medical schools are always way way way cheaper than UK schools. Even if you are a foreigner. Depending on the school, you can pay as little as €400 A YEAR to €4,000 a year. And medical school is medical school, the courses and structure is mostly the same across the world. In fact, fees for non EU are cheaper than EU fees.
However, due to Brexit, British citizens are no longer European Union Citizens. This means you can only apply for one university out of the 14 (1 is dentistry), and you have to get a visa for your first year and then residency permits and permit of stay to be allowed to study in Italy. However, if you are an EU citizen, you can freely go to Italy and apply to these courses and you will not have to do any paper work.
For more details: https://www.medschool.it/admissions/imat-exam-date-calenda
2023.05.28 12:30 Rem0vedByRedditAEO People who wish to obtain permanent residency or citizenship in a country, you need to learn the language
Obviously, I'm not referring to being a tourist and spending a few weeks in a country. There's a difference between going to, say, Italy or Japan, as for a few weeks to see the sites and living there for a decade and not being able to fill out basic forms at the Post Office or order a glass of water.
If you want to obtain Permanent Residency in a country that is not your own, you should know the language and be able to function in day-to-day life without being a nuisance to others. There's no excuse if you've been in a country for that long and not being able to navigate daily life.
I'm not saying that people have to speak ONLY the national language in public. After all, I am based in a non-English speaking country and I often speak English with my wife and dad when in public. But it is somewhat disrespectful to expect that everywhere you go, there will be signs in English, menus in English, and so on.
Personally, English is the language I've done most of my education in but I have studied the Italian language at university. Many years ago, I wanted to go to Italy and I met an American expat who had been in the country for almost a decade, and couldn't so much as say "Un caffè per favore". And as if to be even more ironic he told me "I'm half Italian, too" with a sort of militant kind of pride. Imagine not only living somewhere for 10 years, not having picked up the language, but being proud that you don't speak the language despite it being part of your heritage.
Nobody is expecting you to become an expert on Cervantes if you live in Spain, and nobody is expecting you to become an expert on Shakespeare if you live in an English speaking country. But for heaven's sake stop expecting that every bar, restaurant, taxi driver, government service, or average joe of the street should somehow adapt to you and start speaking YOUR language.
submitted by Rem0vedByRedditAEO to TrueUnpopularOpinion [link] [comments]
If you want to obtain Permanent Residency in a country that is not your own, you should know the language and be able to function in day-to-day life without being a nuisance to others. There's no excuse if you've been in a country for that long and not being able to navigate daily life.
I'm not saying that people have to speak ONLY the national language in public. After all, I am based in a non-English speaking country and I often speak English with my wife and dad when in public. But it is somewhat disrespectful to expect that everywhere you go, there will be signs in English, menus in English, and so on.
Personally, English is the language I've done most of my education in but I have studied the Italian language at university. Many years ago, I wanted to go to Italy and I met an American expat who had been in the country for almost a decade, and couldn't so much as say "Un caffè per favore". And as if to be even more ironic he told me "I'm half Italian, too" with a sort of militant kind of pride. Imagine not only living somewhere for 10 years, not having picked up the language, but being proud that you don't speak the language despite it being part of your heritage.
Nobody is expecting you to become an expert on Cervantes if you live in Spain, and nobody is expecting you to become an expert on Shakespeare if you live in an English speaking country. But for heaven's sake stop expecting that every bar, restaurant, taxi driver, government service, or average joe of the street should somehow adapt to you and start speaking YOUR language.
2023.05.28 11:33 jumpinjacks12345 May 2023 Report/Tips: Venice, Florence, Tuscany, Cinque Terre
We just got back, Italy is magical. Only been to Rome once before as part of Europe hopping trip about 10 years ago. Some thoughts and tricks on our 10 nights, hope it's helpful for others:
Weather: Don't stress too much on forecasts even a week out. Check before leaving and adjust wardrobe or add a light rain jacket if needed. Originally our entire trip showed rain the whole time. Realistically there was a 1 drizzly day in Venice and 2 hour of rain (ominous with thunder) in Florence. The rest of the time was cloudy or beautiful and clear. Cinque Terre was absolutely clear and 70, but dang that sun when hiking was brutally hot. App: Il Meteo
Download WhatsApp - everyone including hotels, restaurants, business, taxi driver (see below) uses it.
Esim: Airalo worked well for us Samsung S22 and Pixel 6. Did have to reboot my S22, but worked really well and between the 2 of us used about 5GB so couldn't gone with less data. One phone did the Europe regional and another the Italy Mamma Mia one. Some restaurants do have dead zones, some have Wifi, another was like these signs on the wall are your wifi....
Driving: You definitely need a car for Tuscany if you want to be on your own timetable, we rented out of Florence and returned in La Spezia. Beware some of the routes on Google Maps, although reliable there were 2 instances we went off roading when an asphalt road was right there. Then we needed to u-turn on the outskirts of Pisa and it was trying to get us to make this impossible stone walled turn and the locals were like yeah Google Maps has people do this and no one has made that so just turn back around. Also lesson learned for us - just do the rental company insurance, event though my credit card offers primary, we got a larger mid size SUV vs Fiat 500 and with the narrow streets, for me the reduced stress would've been worth it when we had to wiggle the car out some spots - but we came out scratch free. On a side note, we got a Lynk & Co car, which was neat and loved Android Auto as we use it at home. Rented thru Hertz. If you use the toll roads (which can make your life a lot faster sometime), make sure you grab a ticket coming in, we didn't get one for 1 segment, luckily getting off of it, the remote attendant spoke english, a little annoyed, but let us pay the fare from where we came from.
Parking: The meters we encountered in Montepulciano, Siena, Pisa seemed straight forward but sometimes card wouldn't work, the english translation was bad and cancelled out transaction multiple times. Just download EasyPark which seems to work everywhere, GPS your zone, link to GooglePay or credit card, license and boom, spin the clock - small fee less than 10%, but damn was it easy and you can add time or end early....
Trains: Download Trenitalia app, book any train instantly, get train status (where is the train currently), and see any station's timetable. Our Venice to Florence train did get delayed and stopped here and there in Bologna one weekend due to the flood damage, luckily our train wasn't cancelled. 5 days later, all trains seems to be back on track. Missed the big 5/26 strike by one day but I was seeing some trains via the app still scheduled. Basically be mentally prepared for any issues, booked an InterCity (assigned seats) from La Spezia to Pisa ahead of time but day of just waited to see when to schedule the regional from Pisa to Florence, so easy via app and you can see how often they run (30 mins for this route) and buy on demand as your schedule permits.
Booking museums/sights: It can be very tricky to google and find official booking sites as there are a lot of 3rd parties who want to get you a "front of the line pass" with a tour for a large markup. So I tried to book thru official sites as much as I can, for the life of us we couldn't get the Doges official to go through so did get those from Get the Guide for less than 5 euro markup for 2. If you are flexible and go off hours, you can do standby and avoid the nominal online booking fee and time spot, we only did these for some, not all. Maybe don't listen to me during summer months. But we did very little waiting - see below
Food: Note that I found classic italian cooking is much more simple, subtle and just pure flavors. Stuff was beautiful but by California standards, a tad underseasoned although some places did put out salt and pepper (default not request) for some dishes like a burrata. This is also coming from here in SoCal where birria is not enough it's birria ramen and hot cheetos encrusted this or that and 5 different types of toppings for mac and cheese - you know stuff for Instagram.... But I totally appreciated the approach and loved it.
Cities - we tend to do a lot on vacation, it may have been a touch quick but it was so fun, we did get a bit sick just with all the weather and change but nothing serious but was glad to get the downtime in Tuscany, we hit it hard first 2 places Venice and Florence. You may vacation differently, this was also our first trip abroad in 7 or so years so wanted to see ALLTHETHINGS.
Accommodations - We did mostly Airbnb which in Europe requires a meetup vs self check in. Did an incredible bed and breakfast (see Montepulciano) and finally a hotel in Florence for last night which I highly recommend for location and service - Arte Boutique (they helped me track down a lost backpack in a taxi, see below).
Safety - felt pretty safe and not scammy in all of our cities our Airbnb host in Florence said Italy overall is safe but he did confirm Rome you need to be more aware. Honestly we only carried 350 euro with us from US bank and that was plenty, near the end we were needing to use it up as everyone takes card, tap to pay, ApplePay and GooglePay freely. Taxi drivers do prefer cash
Staying calm story - we were ending our trip from Florence to airport in in my rush I left my backpack in backseat of taxi, it was gone before I realized we had our rollers and his backpack and duffel but not mine. Luckily my husband was like ok we will call the hotel (the only one we happened to book) who arranged the taxi, and luckily they tracked him down and he came back due to us allotting tons of time before departure. I had to pay the fare again for the backpack fare but was so relieved. We corresponded via WhatsApp after making the initial call to hotel.
Venice: 2 nights
- Sights: Doges (booked via Get the Guide) was cool, not the biggest museum person. Walk over Bridge of Sighs was uneventful from inside. St Mark Basilica had no advance tickets, but did standby for 3 eupp about 20 min before opening and got in within 10 mins, then hopped over to Campanile Tower w/o tickets, no line around 9-9:30 AM - great views.
- Eat: Faves were the quick bites chichetti (All'Arco, Cantina Do Spade), coffee and pastries and gelato (loved Suso). Our sit downs were not bad, just not mind blowing at Ai Mercanti and Imprompta (although seafood good). Also there's a small bar inside Cafe Florian if you want a macchiato for under 5 euro vs sitting down for a 12 euro cappucino and want a mini experience w/o wait.
It can be crowded mid-day but will calm down, very cool to walk or take vaparetto around and get lost, oops this alley dumps into a canal....
Florence: 2 nights
- Sights: Prebooked Galleria Accademia (a must, always a line), good museum experience if you don't necessarily need hours, so neat to see David here. Because not huge museum people, passed on the Uffuzi. Someone at lunch said hey Medici is cool, so did that on a whim w/o any wait and very cool, glad we did it on the fly. Prebooked Boboli Gardens, kinda tired by the time we got here and it had been drizzly and a bit humid, but nice to stroll. The larger fountain area you can't walk through anymore (Ocean fountain?). Also Piazza Michaelangelo for the Florence city center view. Lots of great shopping here, suggest start at Vale for a leather shop.
- Food: Ok so All Antico Vinaio although touristy is legit sandwich, very good and worth it. Tip: go to San Marco location, smaller wait by Galleria Accademia. GustaPizza was legit and very reasonable 7 euro for Margherita?! Fave gelato was Gelato Dei Neri and My Sugar. Mercato Centrale super cool to walk, shop for products, eat if you like. Trattoria Mario, email ahead for reservations - 1.1 kg florentine steak with small sides and salami/cheese plate all for under $70. Dall'Oste was good florentine but much pricier and touristy but had a good Montalcino wine there, book on website for discount for seatings outside of peak times, our 6 PM had 15% discount on food.
Tuscany: 2 nights Montepulciano, 1 night Siena
So beautiful, just the drive through Val D'Orcia. We stopped by San Gimignano and did the tower with no wait (150 stairs), Gelateria Donderia is overrated but fine, GO GO GO to Da'A'Mariani for sandwich here, sweet sweet man and just off the main street - recommended by Pasticcheria Il Criollo which was fabulous just outside city wall.
Stayed in Montepulciano, which was SO fabulous. Our true bed and breakfast was only 3 suites run on a property by 2 americans who moved to Italy - true hospitality and modern yet italian suite. They are booked solid this year, but it was sooo special. Huge breakfast spread every morning. It was true paradise there and the owners are gems - made awesome restaurant recommendations and reservations, driving route, etc. DM me if you want the name but don't bet on getting in for 2023. Restaurants in Montepulciano were Osteria Porto Di Baccio - great antipasto meat/cheese and pici, great typical osteria in wine cave then Le Logge Vignola which was very creative for a very reasonable price - you definitely need reservations for both maybe a few days ahead as both are fully booked by dinner. Gelato recc here would be Scarbia.
Siena - had the Siena OPA Si pass which I recommend, everything except the roof tour. Cathedral inside is a sight to see and includes works by Michaelangelo and Dontatello - ask worker where they are at, definitely do panaroma. This was helpful https://www.earthtrekkers.com/how-to-visit-the-siena-cathedral/ Walk to PastaZuf down the way from Piazza Campo for legit casual takeway pasta for 5-6 euro
Cinque Terre: 2 nights Riomaggiore
Yup, did Pisa as a quick stop on way to drop off car, it's neat and lots of parking (EasyPark app) to get in/out.
Stayed in Riomaggiore, CT is definitely touristy during the day but quiets down. Rick Steves was right, not overhyped. Every city is absolutely gorgeous. Did the hike from Monterosso-Vernazza-Corniglia - yes the HARD way with those stairs first leg but it was very rewarding and fun, can be tight in spots, started at 8 AM and ended in Corniglia around 11:15, start early as you can for less crowds. Train makes it easy to hop towns. Dinners included Rio Bistrot in Riomaggiore (checked in at lunch for dinner reservation same night) and Ristorante Belforte - both great views and suprisingly great food! Tasting menu is way to go at Rio Bistrot. Quick bites include fried seafood, so good. Be prepared for all the elevation/stairs/walking.
Edits: Add safety section, accommodations, and staying calm story.
submitted by jumpinjacks12345 to ItalyTravel [link] [comments]
Weather: Don't stress too much on forecasts even a week out. Check before leaving and adjust wardrobe or add a light rain jacket if needed. Originally our entire trip showed rain the whole time. Realistically there was a 1 drizzly day in Venice and 2 hour of rain (ominous with thunder) in Florence. The rest of the time was cloudy or beautiful and clear. Cinque Terre was absolutely clear and 70, but dang that sun when hiking was brutally hot. App: Il Meteo
Download WhatsApp - everyone including hotels, restaurants, business, taxi driver (see below) uses it.
Esim: Airalo worked well for us Samsung S22 and Pixel 6. Did have to reboot my S22, but worked really well and between the 2 of us used about 5GB so couldn't gone with less data. One phone did the Europe regional and another the Italy Mamma Mia one. Some restaurants do have dead zones, some have Wifi, another was like these signs on the wall are your wifi....
Driving: You definitely need a car for Tuscany if you want to be on your own timetable, we rented out of Florence and returned in La Spezia. Beware some of the routes on Google Maps, although reliable there were 2 instances we went off roading when an asphalt road was right there. Then we needed to u-turn on the outskirts of Pisa and it was trying to get us to make this impossible stone walled turn and the locals were like yeah Google Maps has people do this and no one has made that so just turn back around. Also lesson learned for us - just do the rental company insurance, event though my credit card offers primary, we got a larger mid size SUV vs Fiat 500 and with the narrow streets, for me the reduced stress would've been worth it when we had to wiggle the car out some spots - but we came out scratch free. On a side note, we got a Lynk & Co car, which was neat and loved Android Auto as we use it at home. Rented thru Hertz. If you use the toll roads (which can make your life a lot faster sometime), make sure you grab a ticket coming in, we didn't get one for 1 segment, luckily getting off of it, the remote attendant spoke english, a little annoyed, but let us pay the fare from where we came from.
Parking: The meters we encountered in Montepulciano, Siena, Pisa seemed straight forward but sometimes card wouldn't work, the english translation was bad and cancelled out transaction multiple times. Just download EasyPark which seems to work everywhere, GPS your zone, link to GooglePay or credit card, license and boom, spin the clock - small fee less than 10%, but damn was it easy and you can add time or end early....
Trains: Download Trenitalia app, book any train instantly, get train status (where is the train currently), and see any station's timetable. Our Venice to Florence train did get delayed and stopped here and there in Bologna one weekend due to the flood damage, luckily our train wasn't cancelled. 5 days later, all trains seems to be back on track. Missed the big 5/26 strike by one day but I was seeing some trains via the app still scheduled. Basically be mentally prepared for any issues, booked an InterCity (assigned seats) from La Spezia to Pisa ahead of time but day of just waited to see when to schedule the regional from Pisa to Florence, so easy via app and you can see how often they run (30 mins for this route) and buy on demand as your schedule permits.
Booking museums/sights: It can be very tricky to google and find official booking sites as there are a lot of 3rd parties who want to get you a "front of the line pass" with a tour for a large markup. So I tried to book thru official sites as much as I can, for the life of us we couldn't get the Doges official to go through so did get those from Get the Guide for less than 5 euro markup for 2. If you are flexible and go off hours, you can do standby and avoid the nominal online booking fee and time spot, we only did these for some, not all. Maybe don't listen to me during summer months. But we did very little waiting - see below
Food: Note that I found classic italian cooking is much more simple, subtle and just pure flavors. Stuff was beautiful but by California standards, a tad underseasoned although some places did put out salt and pepper (default not request) for some dishes like a burrata. This is also coming from here in SoCal where birria is not enough it's birria ramen and hot cheetos encrusted this or that and 5 different types of toppings for mac and cheese - you know stuff for Instagram.... But I totally appreciated the approach and loved it.
Cities - we tend to do a lot on vacation, it may have been a touch quick but it was so fun, we did get a bit sick just with all the weather and change but nothing serious but was glad to get the downtime in Tuscany, we hit it hard first 2 places Venice and Florence. You may vacation differently, this was also our first trip abroad in 7 or so years so wanted to see ALLTHETHINGS.
Accommodations - We did mostly Airbnb which in Europe requires a meetup vs self check in. Did an incredible bed and breakfast (see Montepulciano) and finally a hotel in Florence for last night which I highly recommend for location and service - Arte Boutique (they helped me track down a lost backpack in a taxi, see below).
Safety - felt pretty safe and not scammy in all of our cities our Airbnb host in Florence said Italy overall is safe but he did confirm Rome you need to be more aware. Honestly we only carried 350 euro with us from US bank and that was plenty, near the end we were needing to use it up as everyone takes card, tap to pay, ApplePay and GooglePay freely. Taxi drivers do prefer cash
Staying calm story - we were ending our trip from Florence to airport in in my rush I left my backpack in backseat of taxi, it was gone before I realized we had our rollers and his backpack and duffel but not mine. Luckily my husband was like ok we will call the hotel (the only one we happened to book) who arranged the taxi, and luckily they tracked him down and he came back due to us allotting tons of time before departure. I had to pay the fare again for the backpack fare but was so relieved. We corresponded via WhatsApp after making the initial call to hotel.
Venice: 2 nights
- Sights: Doges (booked via Get the Guide) was cool, not the biggest museum person. Walk over Bridge of Sighs was uneventful from inside. St Mark Basilica had no advance tickets, but did standby for 3 eupp about 20 min before opening and got in within 10 mins, then hopped over to Campanile Tower w/o tickets, no line around 9-9:30 AM - great views.
- Eat: Faves were the quick bites chichetti (All'Arco, Cantina Do Spade), coffee and pastries and gelato (loved Suso). Our sit downs were not bad, just not mind blowing at Ai Mercanti and Imprompta (although seafood good). Also there's a small bar inside Cafe Florian if you want a macchiato for under 5 euro vs sitting down for a 12 euro cappucino and want a mini experience w/o wait.
It can be crowded mid-day but will calm down, very cool to walk or take vaparetto around and get lost, oops this alley dumps into a canal....
Florence: 2 nights
- Sights: Prebooked Galleria Accademia (a must, always a line), good museum experience if you don't necessarily need hours, so neat to see David here. Because not huge museum people, passed on the Uffuzi. Someone at lunch said hey Medici is cool, so did that on a whim w/o any wait and very cool, glad we did it on the fly. Prebooked Boboli Gardens, kinda tired by the time we got here and it had been drizzly and a bit humid, but nice to stroll. The larger fountain area you can't walk through anymore (Ocean fountain?). Also Piazza Michaelangelo for the Florence city center view. Lots of great shopping here, suggest start at Vale for a leather shop.
- Food: Ok so All Antico Vinaio although touristy is legit sandwich, very good and worth it. Tip: go to San Marco location, smaller wait by Galleria Accademia. GustaPizza was legit and very reasonable 7 euro for Margherita?! Fave gelato was Gelato Dei Neri and My Sugar. Mercato Centrale super cool to walk, shop for products, eat if you like. Trattoria Mario, email ahead for reservations - 1.1 kg florentine steak with small sides and salami/cheese plate all for under $70. Dall'Oste was good florentine but much pricier and touristy but had a good Montalcino wine there, book on website for discount for seatings outside of peak times, our 6 PM had 15% discount on food.
Tuscany: 2 nights Montepulciano, 1 night Siena
So beautiful, just the drive through Val D'Orcia. We stopped by San Gimignano and did the tower with no wait (150 stairs), Gelateria Donderia is overrated but fine, GO GO GO to Da'A'Mariani for sandwich here, sweet sweet man and just off the main street - recommended by Pasticcheria Il Criollo which was fabulous just outside city wall.
Stayed in Montepulciano, which was SO fabulous. Our true bed and breakfast was only 3 suites run on a property by 2 americans who moved to Italy - true hospitality and modern yet italian suite. They are booked solid this year, but it was sooo special. Huge breakfast spread every morning. It was true paradise there and the owners are gems - made awesome restaurant recommendations and reservations, driving route, etc. DM me if you want the name but don't bet on getting in for 2023. Restaurants in Montepulciano were Osteria Porto Di Baccio - great antipasto meat/cheese and pici, great typical osteria in wine cave then Le Logge Vignola which was very creative for a very reasonable price - you definitely need reservations for both maybe a few days ahead as both are fully booked by dinner. Gelato recc here would be Scarbia.
Siena - had the Siena OPA Si pass which I recommend, everything except the roof tour. Cathedral inside is a sight to see and includes works by Michaelangelo and Dontatello - ask worker where they are at, definitely do panaroma. This was helpful https://www.earthtrekkers.com/how-to-visit-the-siena-cathedral/ Walk to PastaZuf down the way from Piazza Campo for legit casual takeway pasta for 5-6 euro
Cinque Terre: 2 nights Riomaggiore
Yup, did Pisa as a quick stop on way to drop off car, it's neat and lots of parking (EasyPark app) to get in/out.
Stayed in Riomaggiore, CT is definitely touristy during the day but quiets down. Rick Steves was right, not overhyped. Every city is absolutely gorgeous. Did the hike from Monterosso-Vernazza-Corniglia - yes the HARD way with those stairs first leg but it was very rewarding and fun, can be tight in spots, started at 8 AM and ended in Corniglia around 11:15, start early as you can for less crowds. Train makes it easy to hop towns. Dinners included Rio Bistrot in Riomaggiore (checked in at lunch for dinner reservation same night) and Ristorante Belforte - both great views and suprisingly great food! Tasting menu is way to go at Rio Bistrot. Quick bites include fried seafood, so good. Be prepared for all the elevation/stairs/walking.
Edits: Add safety section, accommodations, and staying calm story.
2023.05.28 10:08 RisingVelocity Having difficulty remembering the food menu at my restaurant. Starting to feel discouraged
So I just started bartending at a highly rated Latin restaurant downtown. Food is amazing, cocktails are superb, the team is friendly and cooperative. Compared to the rest of the market in my area it has its own pillar to stand on in terms of brand recognition.
It’s very early for me to have a definitive say on how everything is within the restaurant but so far it’s been exceptional well.
With that being said there’s one main hurdle that has been a hinderance to me.
The food menu.
99% of the dishes are Latin themed. I am very unfamiliar with majority of them which has been rough in terms of me having to remember what the recipes are and issues pronouncing the words correctly.
Since I started last week I’ve mandatory training as different positions throughout the restaurant from food runner to host to familiarize myself with the menu and the flow of the establishment (I had to do this before I could start bar training). I have also been studying when I’m not at work but it’s just not enough for the restaurant’s expectations.
I’ve only been at the restaurant for a week and the head manager is expecting me to have the food menu memorized 100%. So much so that whenever a manageowner ask me what goes in a particular dish I can recall every single detail. The past couple of days the head manager has approached me on several occasions and quizzed me on the spot.
Earlier tonight during closing we were discussing the cocktail menu when I got quizzed on the entire menu again. I had at least half the food somewhat memorized but it just wasn’t enough. There’s been a few times the head manager has gotten a little annoyed with me not remembering which has been disappointing. I’ve apologized to him and said that I’m more of a visual/hands on learner and it will take me a little more time to remember the food menu, especially with having to study and memorize the bar menu as well.
If it took someone else just a week to remember the restaurant’s menu then congratulations to them but that’s just not me.
Tonight during he made a comment that if I can’t remember the menu by at least this upcoming Wednesday/Thursday then I will not be scheduled at all. This nuked my mood for the remainder of my night after work.
Honestly I don’t know if it’s because of the sudden pop quizzes but it causes me to not think clearly and mispronounce the Latin dishes like an idiot. It’s gotten to the point I just freeze up or say the wrong ingredient.
In my 8 years of bartending I have never had this much trouble with a new food menu before.
I am getting extremely discouraged because I wanted to be a part of this restaurant’s bar so badly but having to remember the food menu will be the end of me even before I can begin. I honestly don’t know if I am capable of remembering the entire menu by the middle of next week.
submitted by RisingVelocity to bartenders [link] [comments]
It’s very early for me to have a definitive say on how everything is within the restaurant but so far it’s been exceptional well.
With that being said there’s one main hurdle that has been a hinderance to me.
The food menu.
99% of the dishes are Latin themed. I am very unfamiliar with majority of them which has been rough in terms of me having to remember what the recipes are and issues pronouncing the words correctly.
Since I started last week I’ve mandatory training as different positions throughout the restaurant from food runner to host to familiarize myself with the menu and the flow of the establishment (I had to do this before I could start bar training). I have also been studying when I’m not at work but it’s just not enough for the restaurant’s expectations.
I’ve only been at the restaurant for a week and the head manager is expecting me to have the food menu memorized 100%. So much so that whenever a manageowner ask me what goes in a particular dish I can recall every single detail. The past couple of days the head manager has approached me on several occasions and quizzed me on the spot.
Earlier tonight during closing we were discussing the cocktail menu when I got quizzed on the entire menu again. I had at least half the food somewhat memorized but it just wasn’t enough. There’s been a few times the head manager has gotten a little annoyed with me not remembering which has been disappointing. I’ve apologized to him and said that I’m more of a visual/hands on learner and it will take me a little more time to remember the food menu, especially with having to study and memorize the bar menu as well.
If it took someone else just a week to remember the restaurant’s menu then congratulations to them but that’s just not me.
Tonight during he made a comment that if I can’t remember the menu by at least this upcoming Wednesday/Thursday then I will not be scheduled at all. This nuked my mood for the remainder of my night after work.
Honestly I don’t know if it’s because of the sudden pop quizzes but it causes me to not think clearly and mispronounce the Latin dishes like an idiot. It’s gotten to the point I just freeze up or say the wrong ingredient.
In my 8 years of bartending I have never had this much trouble with a new food menu before.
I am getting extremely discouraged because I wanted to be a part of this restaurant’s bar so badly but having to remember the food menu will be the end of me even before I can begin. I honestly don’t know if I am capable of remembering the entire menu by the middle of next week.
2023.05.28 09:08 buttercup2509 Indian F(27) moving to China, looking for connections in the country
Hi all. I'm from India and never visited China before. I have done international MBA from reputed Italian institute, 4 years of overall work experience, don't have knowledge of Chinese language. I have secured a job in China as a Communications and Project Manager, but in a tier 3 or smaller city between Bejing and Shanghai (Linyi City Shandong province). I have made up my mind to go and explore, if I don't feel comfortable, I can always come back home, but if I don't go and explore, I might regret letting go of the opportunity. However I would like to explore job opportunities in the bigger cities- Shanghai or Beijing specifically, would like to connect with folks who can guide, share information on how I could do that, how to find potential employes in China or Hong Kong etc. Also, if there are any Indian communities, would love to connect (during my stay in Italy, it was useful during festivals, to find Indian groceries, knowledge sharing etc) Please feel free comment any advice, tips that you think will be useful for me. I don't have any support system there- and I am a little afraid of the outcome of this decision.
submitted by buttercup2509 to chinalife [link] [comments]
2023.05.28 08:59 imrootless LORD HAVE MERCY
submitted by imrootless to AnimalRestaurant [link] [comments]
2023.05.28 06:34 bimbo_wannabe_ [I Accidentally Joined The Mafia In South Brooklyn] Chapter 5: The Dead Are Especially Nosy Down Here
![[I Accidentally Joined The Mafia In South Brooklyn] Chapter 5: The Dead Are Especially Nosy Down Here](https://preview.redd.it/zkaxtarwkj2b1.jpg?width=640&crop=smart&auto=webp&s=8b33a651493fb05e79994bff658fc34e98166e4e "[I Accidentally Joined The Mafia In South Brooklyn] Chapter 5: The Dead Are Especially Nosy Down Here") | Previous Part: https://www.reddit.com/redditserials/comments/13sxdo9/i_accidentally_joined_the_mafia_in_south_brooklyn/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=android_app&utm_name=androidcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button submitted by bimbo_wannabe_ to redditserials [link] [comments] These last few parts have taken a lot longer for me to write than I thought. A lot of shit has gone down in the last two months, and a lot of it, frankly, is kind of a blur. But I figure, if you've stuck with me this long, then you deserve to know how it all ended up so I'm going to try my best to remember every detail of what happened. Me? I've spent every free hour I've had, just lying in bed. I've got a lot of healed wounds that still hurt me pretty damned badly. Blood loss from multiple gunshot wounds and then drowning in the East River, dying and then being brought back while still human, incidentally, takes a lot out of a guy. But… I'm getting way ahead of myself. Where were we, again? Oh yeah, that's right. The funeral without caskets, inside of a Ukrainian restaurant just off the boardwalk in Brighton Beach. That's where I left off at. ()()() Antoni's corpse and I had spoken together for a while longer, about Beccs and their baby, actually, sitting there in the floor in front of the three empty bathroom stalls. The next moment, as usual, he was… just gone. It took a while to slow the bleeding, and it took even longer to try and clean myself up with just hand soap and paper towels and the water from the sink. Nobody came into the bathroom again, and as I left, I saw why. There was a sign on the door that read 'Out of Order' with something printed below it in Cyrillic that I imagined probably said the same thing as the English. My new winter coat had been left on the floor in front of the door and the Emergency Exit at the end of the hall had its alarm disabled and had been left propped open with a brick. I took that as a clear message that they didn't want me rejoining the party, so I exited into the alley and sat on a milk crate chain-smoking until 2 PM when the funeral ended. The weather app on my phone said it was 10 degrees outside, but oddly enough the cold air felt soothing on my bruised face. My eyes were nearly swollen shut, and every now and again I had to pull some of the toilet paper out that I'd stuffed in my pocket to wipe another trickle of blood from my nose when I sniffed a little too hard and moved the clots loose. At 1:57, I started to hear people exiting the restaurant, so I moved onto the sidewalk to wait for Becca. The people leaving the funeral only glanced at me for a second and then looked away with a bored expression, like I wasn't even there. Finally, only Becca and Toni's immediate family were still inside. Tatiana gave Becca a hug, Igor, a gentle handshake, and Antoni Sr. bent down, cupped his hands around Becca's face and pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead. I could see that his right hand was bandaged and he was holding it straighter than his left. Good. I hoped the fucker had broken it when he'd punched me in the jaw. As Becca exited, I could tell she was angry even before she stomped over to me and shoved me three times in quick succession. Like Jimmy, Becca was a lot stronger than she looked, but now I knew why. I couldn't do much but ball up and take the hits. "Where the fuck did you go? You just took off and left me there by myself. 'He wouldn't have left without saying goodbye if he had a choice.' You knew, you cocksucker, you knew, you knew he was dead!" "Yeah, I knew! Antoni was in the news. But we gotta get the fuck out of here, Beccs, you're making a scene, another one, and I gotta get outta this neighborhood before something worse happens to me." The high color of anger in her cheeks dropped away immediately into a pallid white. She'd been so pissed she'd never once registered the state of my face. "Jesus Christ, Tony, what the fuck happened to you?" "Your little Polish sausage's Daddy Dearest just beat the fuck out of me in the men's bathroom, that's what the fuck happened." "Why would he do that?" Becca asked, but I didn't answer. She looked back to Skovorodka, following my gaze. Antoni Sr. was still standing there, just inside the front door, watching me with narrowed eyes, his hands folded neatly behind his back like a soldier at ease. It reminded me a lot of how Antoni used to stand while we were waiting for the train together. "Fuck," she muttered, then "Shit," and grabbed me by the arm. "Come on." "Why would he do that?" She asked me again as we climbed the stairs to the train platform. "Antoni was Mob, Becca, Bratva. His whole goddamned family is. Him and his brothers and his father and his fucking Russian uncle, and I'd say your Mama Tatiana probably isn't in the dark about what her brother and her hubby and his sons do to make a living, either. I don't know why the Zabrowskas were on the Avenue, but suffice to say it was probably for nefarious reasons, and Jimmy found out about it and took care of business. "Only I don't think he realized exactly who he was taking out at the time he did it, or else he never would have put the body in the River for somebody to find. And then the other three showed up to avenge their brother, only two of 'em never made it past Bianchi any farther than Antoni did." "The fuck are you trying to say?" Her tone says she already understands just fine and doesn't want to. "I'm saying your dear sweet Mamma killed your boyfriend, Becca. She removed all the identifying marks from his body, ate what she wanted, then pulled all his teeth out and chewed off his hands and his feet. They dumped the body in the East River and they found him about 5 days ago, floating off of Battery Park." "Oh God. That's why. I asked Tatiana where Antoni was going to be buried and she told me in the public cemetery on Hart Island. They're not claiming the body because they don't wanna go to the cops. For the last week I been cussing him for everything he was worth, and he's been laying in the fucking morgue." She pressed her hand to her mouth, and I saw her bloodshot eyes filling with tears again. "Please don't cry, Becca, cause I'm gonna start crying again and I've cried enough for today." She sniffed back her tears and swallowed hard. "But I don't understand, Tony, what the fuck does that have to do with you?" "They knew, Beccs, they knew how the Zabrowskas died, who killed them, and they knew I helped Moretti get rid of the bodies afterwards. That's why Antoni's father went after me. The uh… the fucking Pakhan thought Jimmy sent me there to rub it in their faces that they weren't going to be able to bury any of their boys." "How the fuck would they know that?" She barked at me. "Somebody's feeding them information and not some asshole on the street, somebody from inside the Camorra." "Who would do that?" I saw her eyes darting about wildly as she tried to think of the answer to her own question. "I don't know, uh, the driver that brought Moretti, he didn't look like he was too fond of Bianchi, maybe he's a fucking option." "Frankie? I mean, him and Ma have never gotten along. He's never liked her and the feeling's mutual but… that doesn't make any sense, Frankie's always been loyal to the Camorra. Rossi always said he practically muttered the Omerta in his fucking sleep, that he was a soldato down to the bones." "I have no idea, Becca, but it gets worse," I said quietly. If it didn't hurt so goddamned bad, I would've squeezed my eyes shut. "How the fuck could it possibly get worse, Tony?" "First you gotta promise you're not gonna hit me again." Her hand balled into a fist, and I couldn't help but flinch. "I'm gonna knock you the fuck out right now if you don't stop wasting my time, Cipriani." "I sold her out, Becca. Bianchi. I told them where she lives and how to find her tonight." "You what!?" "I had to! He was gonna cut my fucking fingers off, and I don't know if he was going to take all four or just three but I wasn't about to fucking find out. I kind of need those fingers seeing as I'm a fucking southpaw!" I held my left hand out to her, curled my fingers inward, but the third finger just… stayed straight. "Ah, fuck, I didn't even notice that." "Jesus Christ, the tendon's been cut," she whispered, and when she pressed her hand to her mouth again she looked less like she was swallowing back tears and more like she was trying to swallow back vomit. I couldn't really blame her. I felt pretty nauseous myself. "You know, I'm, I'm not worried about Ma," she said, finally. "It wouldn't be the first time somebody's tried to take her out. She's harder to kill than they think." "Would, uh, would cutting her head off work? Cause if so I think they're already pretty aware of how to get the job done. They… they know Bianchi's not human, Becca." Her face got paler, if that was even possible, and her eyes were the size of saucers. "This is a goddamn nuclear disaster. Jesus fuck." We stood the last few minutes waiting for the train in silence. As the doors slid shut and we sat down, Becca began laughing wildly. "So you're in hysterics for real, huh?" I asked. "You're gonna have to forgive me, I'm a little slow on the uptake today, but I just got it, Polish sausage… only, he wasn't little, you know, he was hung like a fucking horse, and it's a goddamn tragedy for women everywhere that the man isn't on this earth anymore. And he knew how to use it, too. Best sex I ever had in my life… only sex I ever had in my life, but that's not the fucking point." A short, barking sob tore out of her. I groaned. "You know, that is way, way more information than I ever wanted to know about you and Antoni's sex life. You couldn't, uh, you couldn't let that one pass by, huh?" "I never pass up the opportunity to make a good dick joke. And he had Good Dick." I laughed and regretted it as it tightened muscles in my stomach that were still a little angry about being used as Antoni Sr's personal punching bag. "Touché, Miss Rebecca, touché." "The two-faced bastard, I gotta give the motherfucker that much, you know, it's a uniquely personal way to say Fuck You to the Underboss, getting his teenaged daughter pregnant. I am so, so goddamned tired of being a pawn in other people's games. He's lucky he's already dead or I'd kill the bitch myself," she whispered. "It wasn't a game, Becca, what happened between you and Antoni," I whispered back. I knew because Antoni's corpse had told me as much. "Don't ask me how I know, cause I don't wanna talk about it, but it wasn't a game. You didn't know about him and he didn't know about you and it was a big, fucked up coincidence. You loved him, and he really, truly loved you... he worshiped the ground you walked on." Actually, he had said he worshiped the boots she walked in, but I figured it was a translation issue. "It was a regular old Romeo and Juliet: Brooklyn Edition." She squeezed her eyes shut, snorted and at the same time choked on another sob. "Yeah, but Romeo and Juliet ended in a double suicide, not a murder and a single mother." Her tiny hand went to her mouth again, and she wasn't able to hold back the tears this time. "I miss him, Tony, I miss him so fucking much." "You know, Beccs, I miss him, too." I miss him when he was alive, not looking like a walking nightmare, and talking my goddamned ear off half the time, but I wasn't about to tell her that. "He was the first friend I made down here." "It's fucking stupid. I still remember every single thing he said to me those first few times I met him." "Odd as it is, I do too, Beccs. He was that kind of guy, I guess, he didn't have to work hard to make an impression on people. It was, uh, three days after I moved in, I think. I was in the basement, getting ready to do my laundry that morning, fighting with the stuck knob on that machine down at the end? And he walks in with his clothes basket balanced on his hip and reaches past me and just… turned the fucking thing, like it wasn't even stuck to begin with. 'It has an attitude, but it likes me,' he says, and I say, 'I can see that.' "And he, he told me his name. 'Zabrowska,' he says, 'Antoni.' And I laughed and said, 'Nice to meet you, Toni, I'm Tony.' 'Really?' he says, and I say 'Yeah. Really. Antonio Alessio Gioele Cipriani, the third, if you please.'" "Goddamn, that name is painfully Italian. No wonder you tell everybody 'Just call me Tony,'" Becca snorted. "Thank you, Miss Rebecca, I can assure you I didn't pick it myself. But, 'Ah,' Toni says and kind of taps his hand in the center of his chest, 'Junior.' And I laughed again and said 'Our parents were goddamned creative when it came to the baby naming, right?' And he laughed, too, and shook my hand. "And uh, a few days after that he showed up outside of my apartment and asked me if I wanted to go watch a game with him and his brothers at the sports bar down the street. It was Poland vs Korea. I still don't know shit about soccer, I've always been more of an American football kind of guy, but I did learn quite a few Polish swear words that day. Apparently they'd all bet money on the home team winning that game." "I bet you did. Poland kept catching red cards that whole game. I bet on Korea, of course, and altogether I won 8 grand from four extremely pissed off Polish dudes when we stomped their ass all over the pitch. I had no idea how seriously the four of them took soccer. Antoni wouldn't even talk to me for three days. Probably didn't help I made an ass of myself laughing at all of them. Course, I woulda bet more if I'd known they were good for it. Dry cleaners, my ass," Becca spat. "Well, in Antoni's defense, he probably did work at a dry cleaners like he told us, just like you work at a bodega, and Jimmy and me work at a restaurant, and Pops works at a hardware store. We all got day jobs. You know, I hate to bust your balls, Becca, but did it… never occur to you to ask Antoni if the tattoos meant something?" "No," she said weakly. "I mean, I knew they were prison tats but Jesus Christ, half the people I know have been to prison. You've been to prison, half of my cousins have been to prison, hell, Pops has been to prison. You weren't here then, but all of 2016 to 2020 I was wearing a 'Free Rossi' t-shirt everyday, a lot of people in this neighborhood did. Ma got him off on the Murder 1 charges but numbers are numbers, and she couldn't get him out of the Tax Evasion. But I figured, if Antoni didn't wanna talk about it, then it was none of my business what had happened before we met each other." She'd minded her own business a little too hard this time. "What did you and Antoni talk about, Becca?" "Everything! And anything, and nothing, all at the same time. He'd complain about living with his brothers, about Misiu always leaving hair all over the bathroom, and how Ciech always left sugar all over the kitchen counter after he made his coffee. And I'd complain about having to pick up all the empty bottles of makgeolli after my Dad in the morning. I'd help him wash all the dishes his dirty ass brothers would leave piled in the sink, and fold everybody's clothes. "We got along well, me and Antoni, we were actually very compatible, we were both neat freaks when it came to our housekeeping. We even folded our towels the same way. And he'd bitch about how Igor could never balance the register correctly at the end of the day, and I'd bitch about how my Dad never checked our invoices correctly, and I was always having to cuss out the distribution reps for shorting us on our deliveries myself. "And we'd watch TV together. He always made fun of me for the lame ass old Chuck Lorre sitcoms I loved to watch, and I'd make fun of him for all the stupid cop dramas he watched, every Law and Order known to man, and Blue Bloods and shit. We just… talked to each other, like we were two regular people, just living our lives. It was simple and it was easy, and it was enough, it was goddamned enough for me. Our relationship was the one normal thing I had going in my fucked up life." She cracked at the end, sobbing brokenly. She turned her head to the side, pressed her face into my bicep as she wrapped both arms around mine. Tears filled my eyes, as well, and now I was wiping snot out of my nose as well as blood. I felt goddamned sorry for the kid, and I felt like she had a right to cry, but I had to distract her, for my own sake. "So tell me, when was the first time you talked to Antoni? Was that the same day he asked you out?" "No, there was some time between the two. He'd been there about a week, I guess, after they moved in. They got there back in like April. I'd fucked with him the first day, you know, asked him where the hell the accent came from, and he said Poland, and I told him welcome to America cause I felt like being a dick. And he said that he'd already been in country five years and I laughed at him and told him, goddamn, I couldn't tell cause he still sounded like he was fresh off the boat. And he got this look on his face, like he was trying to decide if he needed to be offended or not, so I told him I was just fucking with him, that he was doing better than my Mom, God rest her, cause it was seven years after she got here from Seoul before she even learned a word of English and my Dad was the one that had to teach her." "Makes sense. I moved in in June, Toni mentioned he'd only been in the building about two months hisself." She nodded, I could feel the movement in the sleeve of my coat where her cheek was pressed to my arm. "Him and his brothers started coming in every day after that and you know, I kind of had my eye on him from the first time I talked to him. He was goddamn gorgeous, quite literally the walking definition of 'tall, dark, and handsome.' He had those incredibly blue eyes, and that fucking accent, man, shit put me in knots everytime he came in. I learned them all pretty quick, and Antoni was easy. He got the same thing everyday, box of Newport 100s and a pack of Russian Cream Backwoods with a large slushy. You know I gotta keep the cups behind the counter because motherfuckers'll fill it up and walk out when I get busy. I saw him when he came in, and went over to the ATM, so I had his shit sitting on the counter waiting for him." Becca had a talent for memorizing all of the regular's orders, it wasn't unusual to see a long line of cigarettes, blunts, medicine, sometimes even crack pipes and Chore Boys, and anything else she kept behind the counter, set up neatly next to the register. She also had a talent for running both registers at the same time when the line got overly long and she was there alone. Sometimes I had no idea how she kept up with it all, but that was just Becca. "And this drunk asshole came in, right after, he didn't even belong in the neighborhood, he stayed in Bed-Stuy, but he was with his cousin, and his cousin I knew and he was shooting me apologetic looks so I was already on guard. I was in a bad goddamn mood that day, anyway. And the drunk bitch, he walked over to the bathroom and tried to open it." "Key's behind the counter," I said, and she nodded. "And the key costs five dollars cause people make a fucking mess in the bathroom and I ain't cleaning that shit everyday for free. Well, drunk fuck got pissed and started talking a bunch of shit and threw his five dollars down on the counter, and you know, I can't stand that. You don't throw money at me, I ain't a goddamned stripper, you can put that shit in my hand or you can get the fuck out my store. And, I said 'Naw, son, for you it's gonna cost ten, five dollar Drunk Dick surcharge for being an asshole and cutting my line.' And the motherfucker… he called me a fucking stupid little bitch, and he told me people like me needed to be sent back to my own country." I made a sound of disapproval, already seeing where this was headed. "I hate that stupid shit. Where the fuck am I getting sent back to? The fucking hospital in Manhattan where I was born? Everybody in the store just kind of stopped and stood there, and dude's cousin? He just shook his head at me and walked right out the store and left him there." "He wasn't gonna get involved, huh?" I asked. "Fuck no. He wasn't stupid. I… uh, I was seeing red by that point so I balled up his money and I threw it across the store and told him to get the fuck out. I don't even remember half the shit I said to him, but I was yelling and he was yelling back and all of a sudden Antoni was… just there. I never even noticed him walking up. He was a big motherfucker, but goddamn he was quick and quiet when he wanted to be." Becca laced her fingers through the fingers of my right hand and I gave them a squeeze as she readjusted her head against my shoulder. I turned mine to press a kiss to her hair. She was short enough that I didn't have to worry about bumping my nose. As I turned back, I noticed that there was a puddle of water on the seat across from us, and a pit formed in my stomach immediately. My face felt cold as the blood drained from it. The puddle of water made me more than just a little nervous to see it. I had new enemies stacking up quick, and the last thing I needed was a pissed off, jealous ghost because his grieving fiancée was getting a little handsy with me. But… Antoni never showed himself, so I could only assume he approved of my offering her comfort in her time of need. Either that or he was waiting till I was alone to express his displeasure. "'Is there a problem here?' was all he asked and the drunk bitch turned around and he got even more pissed. He goes 'Man, fuck you, white boy. Mind your own goddamned business.' And Antoni kind of got in his face, and goes, 'I have made it my business. She told you to leave. Either remove yourself or I will remove you.' "And the liquor must've given him a bigger set of balls than he actually had, cause he took a swing at him. And Antoni, he just kind of… leaned back a little to avoid the swing and then leaned back in and… he knocked that bitch out cold with one punch. And then he picked him up, literally picked him up, and threw his ass out on the sidewalk, and kind of dusted his hands off afterwards." "Well, if he's anything like his father then he could throw a hell of a right cross." Becca laughed weakly. "Yeah, his Dad boxes, they all did, you know, from when they were young. Antoni told me he got in his Dad's face once when he was about 16, and Old Papa Zabrowska coldcocked him in the kitchen, and when he woke up on the couch, his Dad dragged him out back in the alley and beat him bloody. Told him if his little grown ass thought he was a man, then he was grown enough to get his ass stomped like a man." That made me feel a little better, to be honest. At least I wasn't the only one I knew who had caught an ass kicking from Antoni Sr. "I bet he didn't talk shit to his Pops again after that, huh?" "I asked him that exact question, he said 'Oh no, no, never again. I learned my lesson.' Toni and his brothers, though, were always getting in fights, even when I knew them. He told me it was hard on their Mama, back in Kraków, having four hormonal, teenaged boys with just shy of a year between each of them, you know cause… us fucking Roman Catholics ain't too fond of any method of contraception." "I didn't know you was Catholic, too, B." "Of course. Rossi is a devout Catholic, and that's how he raised me, and Nia, she's an Angel, you know, a Fallen One, that's what they call themselves, but she's even got real wings. A little more leathery and less feathery, but… same thing. She goes to Mass daily, turns out demons are actually very religious. Both of my parents were atheists, and that's how they raised me, but after some of the shit I've seen, you know, it ain't too unbelievable that there's a Big Guy upstairs." She sniffed again, wiped at her nose and I offered her a bit of toilet paper from my pocket. "That's how it all got started, the War in Heaven. God created Adam, the first living human body, and he told all the spirits in Heaven to kneel to him. And at least half of them weren't too fond of that idea, and the Morning Star stepped up as representative and said they wouldn't kneel to anyone but God. And they, uh, they lost the War, and He banished them all to Earth, to wander without bodies of their own while the other side got to come to Earth one at a time, to live their lives. "But… then there was the first murder, Abel. Cain beat him to death with a rock, and the blood on the ground, the first human blood ever shed in violence, it called to God, but He wasn't the only one it called to. The blood, it gave him a way inside of a body. Lucifer. He was the First One. He's still here, you know, I've met him. He has a particular fondness for Nia, he calls her Young One, cause according to him 1607 wasn't all that long ago." "I guess it isn't when you're that old." "But, back to what I was saying about Toni, all of them were packed into one place together like fucking sardines, the four boys sharing one bedroom in a two bedroom apartment, and all having vastly different personalities. Tatiana is little, like me, and I don't imagine she could do much to break them up when they got to fighting about everything from who ate all the leftovers to who got the top bunks on the beds." "Probably not," I answered. "I mean, I could practically smell the testosterone in their fucking apartment whenever I walked in, and it was probably even worse back then. And apparently, that had been their Dad's method of keeping them from tearing up his wife's house all the time. Whenever a problem inevitably developed, he'd just take them down to the gym and throw them in the ring without any gloves and tell them to fucking handle it, and whoever was still standing at the end was the one that won the argument. "Uh, but, uh, when Toni hit the guy, all, all I could do was stand there with my mouth hanging open like a fucking fish. I mean, I was in love, right that fucking second, standing there. The hormones were running on overdrive, my head was practically spinning with how fast all the blood rushed south, you know? Everybody was still standing there and Antoni tried to get back in line and I said, 'Uh-uh. Take your shit and go on.' And he goes," Beccs began laughing again, laughed so hard there were tears in her eyes once more. "He goes, 'Am I in trouble?''' I had to wrap my left arm tight around my stomach because I couldn't stop myself from laughing either. The makeshift bandage on my left hand that I'd wound out of paper towel had soaked through, I was going to have to change it soon. "He didn't say that, Becca." "Yes the fuck, he did. And I went, 'No, you dumbass, it's on the house, and in case I gotta translate, that means it's free. Small price to pay for a security detail.' And he just kind of blinked at me for a second, before he nodded his head and grabbed his things off the counter, went and filled his slushy up." "You probably scared the piss out of him for that second, he probably thought he'd been found out. That's what they call it, what he was, Obshchak, Security Group." "He stopped before he left, and told me thank you. And I said 'No, dziękuję', thank you. And then I winked at him and said 'Miłej nocy, piękna.'" She straightened up as the train began to slow for our stop. "And what did that mean?" "Have a good night, gorgeous." She said with a watery grin. "Smooth, B, real smooth. Nothing quite like hitting on a man in his native language. " "I mean, you know us, Tony, we got Southern Hospitality down here. As long as you're not an asshole, I do everything I can to make sure everyone feels welcome when they come inside. That's why there's a sign on the door that says 'DMZ.' They might have beef on the streets but don't nobody take that shit inside my store. And that means asking the Mexicans down the street if they need a bolsa, and making sure I ordered Farid's miswaks so he didn't have to walk all the way down to the Pakistani store, and sometimes it means learning a little bit of Polish so I could flirt with the new guy downstairs the next time he came in." We exited the train, made the switch, and stood on the platform waiting for the next to take us back to Avenue U. As I glanced to the side, I could see a puddle forming on the platform next to me, drip by drip. It was already freezing around the edges. As it turned out, I wasn't the only nosy fuck around here. "And apparently the flirting was well received by our dearly departed half-Russian friend." "Apparently, cause about a week later I was having a busy fucking Friday night and my Dad had already gone home, and I was trying to shut her down but motherfuckers kept coming inside right up until 11. I made DeAndre from downstairs stand at the door and tell people we were closed and that he was the last customer for the night and after I rung him up I told him to flip the sign on the door and I'd lock it when I finished my cigarette count… only, I forgot to ever lock it, and DeDe's traitorous ass, he fucking set me up. He knew I had a thing for Antoni, and when he saw him coming down off the platform and rushing down the sidewalk, he let him in and told him he was the last customer for the night and to flip the sign on the door." She closed her eyes for a moment. "It took me… exactly 16 minutes to notice he was there. I know, cause after I was done pissing myself when I figured out I wasn't alone, the Polish smart-ass showed me his watch. He'd set a timer when he realized I wasn't paying any attention to him, and then just stood there, waiting to see how long it would take. I had my earphones in, and it took four songs," she held up her hand and ticked them off with her fingers. "'Savage Like', 'Money, Sex, Drugs', 'Proud' and 'Only.' "I turned around and screamed like a little bitch when I saw him. And then I got pissed, cause I was embarrassed, I'd been singing along to all the songs cause I thought I was alone in the store. I started screaming at him. 'What the fuck, you can't read? The sign says Closed.' And he goes 'No, it didn't. It still said Open. I turned it myself.' I hadn't counted down my register yet, so I just went ahead and grabbed his shit and rung him up, cussing DeDe the whole time and I asked him how long he'd been standing there, and he showed me his watch. And he says, 'You shouldn't wear those, it's dangerous,' talking about my headphones, and I said, 'What are you, my fucking father?' And he got kind of a funny look on his face." I released a weak snicker, holding my stomach tight again. I couldn't resist fucking with them both a little bit. "He kinda had a point, Becca. Although, I can tell you he was probably less concerned about being your father and more concerned about becoming your Daddy." "Oh, so now you got the dirty jokes," Becca said flatly. "What can I say, B, you're a bad influence on me." "Eh," she said after a moment, "You wouldn't be the first. You know, months later he told me that he'd stood there that long because he didn't think he'd have the nerve to ask what he wanted to ask the next time if he left, which, you know, what the fuck? What am I, scary?" I couldn't help but laugh again. "Yes, Becca, you are, you're fucking terrifying half the time. You might be a short fuck but dynamite comes in small packages, you know? He was probably afraid you'd tell him to suck your dick and ban him from the store for a month like every other poor motherfucker I've seen ask you out, and he probably didn't want to go through your particular brand of ridicule in front of an audience, on top of that, with all the other customers laughing him out of the store." "It ain't my fault I'm this size," she said after a moment, shooting me a perturbed look. "No shit, Sherlock. It's genetics." "It ain't even that. It's the blood. I mean, my parents were both tall, you know, for Koreans, anyway, my Mom was 5'6. I probably would've been too if I'd had the chance, but, you know, the blood it… stops things. Why do you think Jimmy looks the way he does? I mean, Pops believes in 'aging gracefully,' as he says, but old Giacomino is a vain fuck, and he's got more of a taste for 'the Stuff' than Rocco ever had. He turned 65 this year, he's only two years younger than Pops, he was already 34 years old when he met Nia for the first time. He tells people he's got a good plastic surgeon, when they ask. And the same thing happened to me. My body wanted to stay 8 years old, forever. "Rossi had to get hormones, fucking estrogen and progesterone and HGH, off the black market to force my body to start puberty and to fucking grow. It's not like we could go to a doctor and explain why I needed the prescription. I mean, these tits aren't even mine. Ma bought 'em for my sixteenth birthday so I wouldn't feel so goddamned self-conscious. Nia's not exactly flat-chested, as you know, neither was my Mom, and it kind of gave me a fucking complex when I was growing up." "I mean, is she? I haven't really noticed," I replied, evasively. "Yes, you have, you lying fuck. There isn't a straight or bisexual man, or a lesbian or bisexual woman for that matter, that comes within fifty feet of Appolonia Bianchi that doesn't notice all of her unnatural charms. It made for some interesting 'family' trips during the summer when we'd leave the city, lemme tell you. I asked Pops once, you know, if he ever got jealous when she'd show up with some random dick she'd run across, cause I used to think it was pretty shitty of her. "I said she could've at least kept things on the downlow and not throw it in Rocco's face every few days. But he told me no, he loved her, he understood her nature very well and he'd accepted what she was years before I was even born, and that she loved him too, and more importantly, respected him. She always introduced the men to him because that was what he'd asked of her. That it was the one aspect of control he had in the situation, giving his 'permission' for her little liaisons. That it made him feel better to let them know they might be getting a piece, but she'd be ending every night lying in his bed, regardless of what they did." I nodded. "I guess I can kind of see his point." "But, the blood, that's how I ended up pregnant. I mean, I'm not a dumbass, I know how babies are made, but I wasn't worried about using condoms with Antoni, neither of us wanted to. I told him if he gave me anything I'd cut his dick off, and he knew I was serious, too, and he considered it a proportional response. I didn't even think I could get pregnant. "I stopped the birth control when I was 16 because it was making me gain weight and my cheer coach bitched me out in front of fucking everybody, and Rossi's guy said I needed to keep taking it to keep my hormone levels even. So I told Antoni I didnt want to get into my medical history, but suffice to say I was probably fucking sterile anyway, so he didn't have to worry about it, and he told me he wasn't worried about it at all. But apparently my fucking parts work better than I thought." "Or maybe he had some damned determined swimmers, who knows." "I don't know why I was even concerned about not using condoms anyway. Technically we were all excommunicated as of 2014. Pope said the mafiosi lifestyle isn't compatible with the Catholic one. You know, I wonder how Antoni would feel about all this, I wonder if he'd be pissed, think I lied to him about not being able to get pregnant." "You're just gonna have to take my word for it, B, but he's not angry in the least, he's pretty fucking proud of hisself." I'd say his chest was stuck out but he didn't have much of a chest left these days, so I just kept that part to myself. "Pretty sure he said he wasn't worried about it because he was hoping you were wrong about being sterile." Beccs gave me a strange look but the train arrived at just that moment. The people exiting did quite a bit of staring, unlike the people leaving the funeral, but I just tucked my arm around Becca and shouldered my way past them and found us a seat. The drops of water followed us into the train. "What's with the present tense, Tony? Is that some kind of cliche 'he's lookin' down on you' bullshit?" I snorted and wiped the bubble of blood from my nose, staring at the puddle of water that was starting to form in the seat next to us. I could feel the cold emanating from Antoni all along my left side. Oddly enough, it was easing the intense ache in my nearly severed ring finger. "He ain't looking down on us, B, I can tell you that much." "So it's a Hell joke?" "No, not really. But then again, I'm pretty sure we're all in Hell right this second, Miss Rebecca, so yes, yes it is." |
2023.05.28 02:39 Prestigious_Round_69 Is Santino's Little Italy run by Italian mobsters or is it a show?
submitted by Prestigious_Round_69 to milwaukee [link] [comments]
2023.05.28 00:19 GJW2019 9 Days in Rome: Springsteen, Photography, and COVID
Just back from a glorious 9 days in Rome. There's no other place like it and I felt so lucky to be able to go, My three initial aims in this trip were: (a) see my hometown hero Bruce Springsteen amongst my ancestral people (they literally sing along to not just the lyrics but the guitar riffs etc too) as well as (b) sink or swim as I continue to practice my Italian language skills (I've been taking lessons with a tutor for 2 years but there's nothing like just being thrown into the world of the language to sharpen up and get very comfortable conversing) and (c) do hours upon hours of photo walks (I ended up averaging 30k steps a day every day aside from the two sick days).
In brief, I split the trip up into two halves: the first half I stayed up on Avantino hill (it's very close to the Circo Massimo, so it was an easy spot for the concert) and the second half in a quiet pocket of Trastevere a block or two west of the river south of Ponte Paladino.
My Avantino air bnb host gave me some great neighborhood places in nearby Testaccio (another wonderful neighborhood that tourists don't seem to wander into very much), and I found a fantastic and slightly quirky place for espresso also in Testaccio (I'm an espresso fiend).
If you haven't been to Avantino, it almost reminded me of the Italian Beacon Hill (for those familiar with Boston). It had the feeling of a Tuscan village that just happened to be somehow in the middle of Rome. It's where the famous key hole is that frames St. Peters, as well as the Giardino degli Aranci and Santa Sabina's, which is a gorgeous church from 422 AD. Staying here felt very relaxing and peaceful and even though some tourists did make their way to the keyhole every day, it had a very tranquil vibe, despite the fact that Circo Massimo was 5 minutes north and Testaccio was 5 minutes south.
Given that my favorite thing to do on vacation is just wander around with my Ricoh GR, I would begin every day in Avantino thusly:
Get up, have an espresso at Tram Depot (always at the bar), walk around for a few hours and just see what I can find. Maybe I'd get a quick breakfast bite at the outstanding Casa Manco in the Testaccio market. Then I'd go to for a big lunch at the wonderful Pecorino (also in Testaccio). This lunch would usually last an hour or two. It's a very cozy restaurant and the waiters are all very nice and so I'd often bring a book along with me or a notebook or I'd transfer pictures from my camera to my phone for editing in between courses. Lunch was often my largest meal of the day and sometimes my only "meal" of the day. (In normal life I train for marathons and am in the gym often and I'm super on top of my macros and making sure I get X amount of protein etc...on this trip, this was not the case.)
If I couldn't get into Pecorino for lunch or didn't end up in that area for lunch time, I'd either go there for dinner when they opened, or another excellent Testaccio spot called Perilli's. (There's also Piato Romano, which had excellent food but not quite the same cozy ambience as Pecorino.) I pretty much mainlined Amatriciana and Carbonara along with involtini, braised oxtail, and as much tiramisu as I could politely hurl into my maw. I like establishing some routines or rituals when I travel, especially when I travel solo, to help give the trip some grounding. It's also nice when you are far from home to be able to walk into a place where people begin to recognize you and accept you into their little circle, even if it is temporary.
For the second half of the trip in Trastevere...I got COVID! Sort of. The day after the concert, I noticed a heavy feeling in my upper airway/chest, but I figured it must have been all the second hand smoke I inhaled during the concert (from my observations, Romans thoroughly enjoy cigarettes). I wear an oura ring and while my HRV was low, nothing else stood out. That night though I developed a fever and spent the entire next day in bed. I was bummed, but frankly, after 5 nights in a row of being out from 8am to midnight, I needed a rest day anyway, so it wasn't bad timing. (How's that for spin?)
Not sure what my actual temperature was, but my oura ring said I was 4.3 degrees above my nightly average baseline, so I'm guessing my temperature was around 100-101 as my normal temperature on a thermometer seems to be around 96.6. I spent a good chunk of the next day in bed also, just napping (which was fairly pleasant as the cool breeze came in through the window, carrying the sounds of the three churches on Avantino, not to mention the bird calls and the pleasing sounds of people enjoying their meals on the street below). My baseline temp deviation was only +2 degrees the second night and by the end of the day, I felt good enough to have an appetite, but not quite good enough to stand upright, so I ordered some Trapizzino on uber eats (the polpetti/sugo and the melanzane were both glorious) and that revived me. By the next morning I was better!
(In the end, I think this was covid because while I only had the fever for the two sick days, I lost most of my sense of smell sometime Thursday afternoon despite feeling fine. So maybe Covid? In the end, I missed out on a trip to Ostia Antica and a food tour, but the trip still felt extremely full of experiences.)
The rest of my time in Trastevere was great. Just wandering all around those crazy little winding streets, snapping away, always fueld by a caffè from the gruff but character-rich Bar San Calisto or the one across from my apartment, which was called "404 Name Not Found." I did eat lunch one day at Da Enzo which was good but not sure it's worth the hype given how much excellent food I had at restaurants with very little fanfare. Da Enzo ended up being a great experience though because when they asked me how many and I said, "da solo," they asked if I would share the table if there was another single. I said sure, and ended up being paired up with a fellow endurance athlete, this one from France. Just one of the many fanciful moments that can happen when you travel solo. We also hung out again the next day for most of the morning and afternoon, and this was a sort of theme for my trip: running into people left and right, connecting, and making fast friends. This is how I found myself getting invited to a Roman birthday party at the Piazza Testaccio one night for what felt like my 10th "out past midnight" night of the trip (again, a far cry from my normal life of "in bed at 9").
In the end, what I will take away from this trip are a few things:
-the magic of learning a second language, and noticing your skills improving with every chat. Just the pleasure of hearing the Italian language and getting to practice it all day, every day (while making many mistakes). If you're going to Rome or Italy in general, I highly recommend you try and get yourself up to A2 in Italian. It's such a pleasurable language to speak and embrace, even if it's just at a beginner's level.
-the many conversations I had with shop owners or fellow bar patrons and the high-five I would give myself in my head when they would ask "if you're American, how come your accent is so good?" (Again, I'm a B1 speaker on my best day, but the compliment would always make my day given my beginner's nervousness at the start of the trip). A few times, people even just began talking to me, assuming I was Italian. (I am Italian-American, but having a Roman just start talking to you as one of their own meant a lot to the part of me that loves being Italian and feels a strong connection to the country, even from afar.)
-The Italian crowd at the Bruce show. Just a blast to sing along with them into the Roman sky, surrounded by ruins.
-Mornings in Avantino spent in quiet contemplation in Santa Sabina or St Anselmo. A few times, the respective organists were practicing and I got my own concert.
-After my two days sick in bed, when I returned to the Tram Depot and Casa Manco for sustenance, the proprietors both asked me one version or another or "tutto bene?" (as if to say, where ya been?). The man at Casa Manco blurted out "buon tornato!" when he saw me approach. Very warm-hearted people and they made me feel at home (along with the Pecorino staff, who were very kind to me and likely a little amused, wondering, why is this random American dude here every day eating for 2 hours?)
-A basic observation: I appreciated how people across seemingly different walks of life all talk to each other as equals. I saw street sweepers chatting with businessmen in the street in a way that would seem less likely in America. Maybe this is a class thing? Perhaps the gap in salaries is not so large like it is in America, and therefore people feel like one giant middle class together? Related: many younger Italians I spoke to told me how hard it was to live in Rome as a young person, as salaries were not very good, and unless you had 1-2 roommates or parents who could pay your rent, you would most likely have a longer commute coming into the city every day.
-The fact that behind every nook and cranny and around every corner, there is something spectacular to see. Whether it's the ruins that stand adjacent to the jewish ghetto in a reminder of the layers upon layers of civilizations that once existed in this city, or just the way the morning light creates a shaft down some medieval cobblestone street, it is a magical place to walk around. By the end of each very long day, my mind was just fried, both from working overtime with trying to speak Italian and from the sheer overstimulation of seeing so much beauty.
Anyway, this was not my first trip to Rome, but it was my first trip in MANY years, and it was precisely the life affirming and humanity affirming trip I needed this year after a rough and precarious start to 2023. Next trip, I will likely fly into Rome, spend 3-ish days there, and then head somewhere to the southern coast. As much as I love Roman food, it would be nice to be inundated with fresh sardines the same way this trip found me OD'ing on carbonara.
Anyway, thank you to Rome and it's people for one of the best times in my 39 years.
(If anyone is curious, I'll be posting many photos from this trip at my IG @ rovinglumix.
submitted by GJW2019 to rome [link] [comments]
In brief, I split the trip up into two halves: the first half I stayed up on Avantino hill (it's very close to the Circo Massimo, so it was an easy spot for the concert) and the second half in a quiet pocket of Trastevere a block or two west of the river south of Ponte Paladino.
My Avantino air bnb host gave me some great neighborhood places in nearby Testaccio (another wonderful neighborhood that tourists don't seem to wander into very much), and I found a fantastic and slightly quirky place for espresso also in Testaccio (I'm an espresso fiend).
If you haven't been to Avantino, it almost reminded me of the Italian Beacon Hill (for those familiar with Boston). It had the feeling of a Tuscan village that just happened to be somehow in the middle of Rome. It's where the famous key hole is that frames St. Peters, as well as the Giardino degli Aranci and Santa Sabina's, which is a gorgeous church from 422 AD. Staying here felt very relaxing and peaceful and even though some tourists did make their way to the keyhole every day, it had a very tranquil vibe, despite the fact that Circo Massimo was 5 minutes north and Testaccio was 5 minutes south.
Given that my favorite thing to do on vacation is just wander around with my Ricoh GR, I would begin every day in Avantino thusly:
Get up, have an espresso at Tram Depot (always at the bar), walk around for a few hours and just see what I can find. Maybe I'd get a quick breakfast bite at the outstanding Casa Manco in the Testaccio market. Then I'd go to for a big lunch at the wonderful Pecorino (also in Testaccio). This lunch would usually last an hour or two. It's a very cozy restaurant and the waiters are all very nice and so I'd often bring a book along with me or a notebook or I'd transfer pictures from my camera to my phone for editing in between courses. Lunch was often my largest meal of the day and sometimes my only "meal" of the day. (In normal life I train for marathons and am in the gym often and I'm super on top of my macros and making sure I get X amount of protein etc...on this trip, this was not the case.)
If I couldn't get into Pecorino for lunch or didn't end up in that area for lunch time, I'd either go there for dinner when they opened, or another excellent Testaccio spot called Perilli's. (There's also Piato Romano, which had excellent food but not quite the same cozy ambience as Pecorino.) I pretty much mainlined Amatriciana and Carbonara along with involtini, braised oxtail, and as much tiramisu as I could politely hurl into my maw. I like establishing some routines or rituals when I travel, especially when I travel solo, to help give the trip some grounding. It's also nice when you are far from home to be able to walk into a place where people begin to recognize you and accept you into their little circle, even if it is temporary.
For the second half of the trip in Trastevere...I got COVID! Sort of. The day after the concert, I noticed a heavy feeling in my upper airway/chest, but I figured it must have been all the second hand smoke I inhaled during the concert (from my observations, Romans thoroughly enjoy cigarettes). I wear an oura ring and while my HRV was low, nothing else stood out. That night though I developed a fever and spent the entire next day in bed. I was bummed, but frankly, after 5 nights in a row of being out from 8am to midnight, I needed a rest day anyway, so it wasn't bad timing. (How's that for spin?)
Not sure what my actual temperature was, but my oura ring said I was 4.3 degrees above my nightly average baseline, so I'm guessing my temperature was around 100-101 as my normal temperature on a thermometer seems to be around 96.6. I spent a good chunk of the next day in bed also, just napping (which was fairly pleasant as the cool breeze came in through the window, carrying the sounds of the three churches on Avantino, not to mention the bird calls and the pleasing sounds of people enjoying their meals on the street below). My baseline temp deviation was only +2 degrees the second night and by the end of the day, I felt good enough to have an appetite, but not quite good enough to stand upright, so I ordered some Trapizzino on uber eats (the polpetti/sugo and the melanzane were both glorious) and that revived me. By the next morning I was better!
(In the end, I think this was covid because while I only had the fever for the two sick days, I lost most of my sense of smell sometime Thursday afternoon despite feeling fine. So maybe Covid? In the end, I missed out on a trip to Ostia Antica and a food tour, but the trip still felt extremely full of experiences.)
The rest of my time in Trastevere was great. Just wandering all around those crazy little winding streets, snapping away, always fueld by a caffè from the gruff but character-rich Bar San Calisto or the one across from my apartment, which was called "404 Name Not Found." I did eat lunch one day at Da Enzo which was good but not sure it's worth the hype given how much excellent food I had at restaurants with very little fanfare. Da Enzo ended up being a great experience though because when they asked me how many and I said, "da solo," they asked if I would share the table if there was another single. I said sure, and ended up being paired up with a fellow endurance athlete, this one from France. Just one of the many fanciful moments that can happen when you travel solo. We also hung out again the next day for most of the morning and afternoon, and this was a sort of theme for my trip: running into people left and right, connecting, and making fast friends. This is how I found myself getting invited to a Roman birthday party at the Piazza Testaccio one night for what felt like my 10th "out past midnight" night of the trip (again, a far cry from my normal life of "in bed at 9").
In the end, what I will take away from this trip are a few things:
-the magic of learning a second language, and noticing your skills improving with every chat. Just the pleasure of hearing the Italian language and getting to practice it all day, every day (while making many mistakes). If you're going to Rome or Italy in general, I highly recommend you try and get yourself up to A2 in Italian. It's such a pleasurable language to speak and embrace, even if it's just at a beginner's level.
-the many conversations I had with shop owners or fellow bar patrons and the high-five I would give myself in my head when they would ask "if you're American, how come your accent is so good?" (Again, I'm a B1 speaker on my best day, but the compliment would always make my day given my beginner's nervousness at the start of the trip). A few times, people even just began talking to me, assuming I was Italian. (I am Italian-American, but having a Roman just start talking to you as one of their own meant a lot to the part of me that loves being Italian and feels a strong connection to the country, even from afar.)
-The Italian crowd at the Bruce show. Just a blast to sing along with them into the Roman sky, surrounded by ruins.
-Mornings in Avantino spent in quiet contemplation in Santa Sabina or St Anselmo. A few times, the respective organists were practicing and I got my own concert.
-After my two days sick in bed, when I returned to the Tram Depot and Casa Manco for sustenance, the proprietors both asked me one version or another or "tutto bene?" (as if to say, where ya been?). The man at Casa Manco blurted out "buon tornato!" when he saw me approach. Very warm-hearted people and they made me feel at home (along with the Pecorino staff, who were very kind to me and likely a little amused, wondering, why is this random American dude here every day eating for 2 hours?)
-A basic observation: I appreciated how people across seemingly different walks of life all talk to each other as equals. I saw street sweepers chatting with businessmen in the street in a way that would seem less likely in America. Maybe this is a class thing? Perhaps the gap in salaries is not so large like it is in America, and therefore people feel like one giant middle class together? Related: many younger Italians I spoke to told me how hard it was to live in Rome as a young person, as salaries were not very good, and unless you had 1-2 roommates or parents who could pay your rent, you would most likely have a longer commute coming into the city every day.
-The fact that behind every nook and cranny and around every corner, there is something spectacular to see. Whether it's the ruins that stand adjacent to the jewish ghetto in a reminder of the layers upon layers of civilizations that once existed in this city, or just the way the morning light creates a shaft down some medieval cobblestone street, it is a magical place to walk around. By the end of each very long day, my mind was just fried, both from working overtime with trying to speak Italian and from the sheer overstimulation of seeing so much beauty.
Anyway, this was not my first trip to Rome, but it was my first trip in MANY years, and it was precisely the life affirming and humanity affirming trip I needed this year after a rough and precarious start to 2023. Next trip, I will likely fly into Rome, spend 3-ish days there, and then head somewhere to the southern coast. As much as I love Roman food, it would be nice to be inundated with fresh sardines the same way this trip found me OD'ing on carbonara.
Anyway, thank you to Rome and it's people for one of the best times in my 39 years.
(If anyone is curious, I'll be posting many photos from this trip at my IG @ rovinglumix.
2023.05.28 00:13 AustralianChrono Chronologica's Drag Race Season 4: Episode 5- Snap That Shot
Arrasando oye papi damelo todo
Jaslene smirks, spinning around as she drops to the floor, making her eyes fixed at the judges as she hits each and every spanish word.
Pues les va de maravilla, la apariencia mas sencilla
Kunthea turns to the side of the stage before dropping in a death drop, flipping their hair around wildly.
Aguacate: “She doesn’t know the WORDS! Perra!”
Pretendamos concentrarnos en lo que haré nuestro cuerpo
Yasmin shakes and shimmies, before she plays with the spikes on her chest as the judges cackle with her campy take on the song.
A Cleopatra no le importa en el amor la entrega
Zazu winks, dancing and giving high energy, as she surprisingly appears to know every beat of the Spanish song.
Arrasando con lo bueno
There’s a split screen as the four girls all dance their ass off, as Chronologica grins, looking at each of them with a smile.
Esta luz que en mi deslumbra
Yasmin hits the ground on her knees, Jaslene lands in a split, Kunthea winks and Zazu twirls as the song ends.
…
…
…
Yasmin Raiz, Shantay you stay.
Yasmin bows.
…
…
Zazu Nova, Shantay you stay.
Omari gasps, as Jaslene looks at Kunthea with shock.
Fiore Stravaganza: “The girls…”
…
…
…
…
…
…
Jaslene Bangus, Shantay you stay.
“Thank you.” Jaslene looks at Kunthea, before hugging her. “I love you, girl.”
Kunthea Angel, you are a beautiful, fierce Queen. But today, I must say sashay… away.
“Fuck yeah.” Kunthea smirks. “Thank you.”
Kunthea hugs Jaslene again, before walking over to Fiore.
“Peace.” Kunthea throws a peace sign.
Kunthea Angel: “I didn’t expect to go so soon. But fuck, you know- shit happens. I fought, and us A.E girls- I know we’re gonna slay.”
Lipstick Message: “A.E girls forever, baby! Good luck, and dominate.”
~
The racers enter the werkroom.
“A.E girls forever, baby.” Jaslene puts her hand on her chest, wiping the mirror.
“What a gag.” Zazu exhales.
“Literally, I am NEVER not cooking before a challenge reveal again.” Yasmin laughs, sitting down.
“..That was an intense time.” Omari purses his lips.
“Intense is an understatement.” Granny laughs.
“You know, the energy was hard- this was challenging.” Zazu puts her heart on her chest. “But I think we need to move forward.”
Aguacate: “I mean, we all KNOW I’ve been fantastic. But whatever, let us move forward, cut the fat a bit.”
“I feel ready for this next challenge already, because it’s an opportunity to prove ourselves.” Haja says. “I’m planning on winning.”
Hideyoshi rolls his eyes.
Toyotomi Hideyoshi: “I’m PLANNING to win too!”
“I know…” Crayola looks at the others. “Last week was a struggle. But we 10 are here, we are strong, powerful artists- and I am thankful to be working with you all.”
“Working together is great, but I’d love a challenge solo, truly.” Fiore puts her hand around Jaslene. “Love you girl, but a moment for me to focus on myself would be nice.”
“Agreed.” Omari adds.
“Let’s sit in this moment, and celebrate.” Granny takes a half drunk glass. “To whatever comes next!”
The other races begrudgingly cheer.
Haja Hubiani: “I know last week I did good, but I didn’t do GREAT. We’re all here to prove ourselves, but some are showcasing more then others. That has to change.”
“Two wins, my gosh…” Granny smiles at Omari.
Haja Hubiani: “I’m here to prove to the world my style of drag- planned, efficient, high drag… and those who exist? They’ll be damned. Just wait and see…”
Hideyoshi cackles with Aguacate.
Haja Hubiani: “I am here to win.”
~
The Next Day, Yasmin starts handing out plates.
“Hold on, take a plate.” Yasmin smiles.
Yasmin Raiz: “Last time I didn’t cook, I was in the bottom. Oh, no. We’re NEEEEVER taking another chance again!”
“What’s on today’s menu?” Omari raises an eyebrow.
“Veggie Sushi!” Yasmin winks. “With Jasmine Rice.”
“It’s you!” Granny chuckles.
“It is.” Yasmin laughs.
“...Wait, what?” Zazu asks, confused.
“...Jasmine Rice, my name?” Yasmin looks at Zazu.
Zazu gasps.
“Oh, I didn’t realise that either.” Crayola chuckles.
“Neither did I…” Jaslene puts her hand up.
“Same.” Hideyoshi laughs.
Yasmin cackles.
You’ve got drag mail!
Granny drops the bowl of rice.
“DARLING, NOW YOU ARE IN DANGER!” Yasmin yells.
Granny chuckles.
Detox. Relax. It’s time. Home time!
“Home time?” Haja raises an eyebrow.
It’s Drag Time!
Hello, racers.
It’s time to pack up. These last few weeks have been intense. We’re going to separate, detox, rest and relax before you all interact again.
Everyone laughs, whilst looking confused.
For this week’s maxi challenge, I am SHIPPING you back on a two-way ticket home- and here again. You’re going home to present yourselves in the form of a photoshoot, baby!
Jaslene Bangus: “I’ve always been a supermodel. And now, you give me a shoot?” Jaslene smirks. “Slay.”
I want to see your home country, and YOUR DRAG BRAND best represented in the form of a shoot. You have… 30 minutes on the bus to start preparing for the journey home. Good luck… and don’t FUCK IT UP!
Everyone frantically starts running, as Hideyoshi sits.
…It’s go time, Hideyoshi.
“I’m… not planning.” Hideyoshi looks at Chronologica. “I have my idea already.”
Chronologica raises an eyebrow.
Toyotomi Hideyoshi: “It’s done me well this time. I know it will again.”
Good luck…
Chronologica looks at Hideyoshi, as he slinks into his seat.
~
The racers sit around their bus, looking at each other as they start talking, some planning, some chatting.
“Okay, okay…” Aguacate grins. “My drags. What are we doing? Where are we all going?!”
“I’ve already picked up the phone and made some calls.” Jaslene smirks. “Me and my sisters, powerful trans women in my favourite club in Manila, Stargirl.” Jaslene nods. “I am here to showcase women- power, beautiful and the girls I love.”
Aguacate: “Have other girls steal your focus?!” Aguacate laughs.
“I feel the same.” Granny nods. “I’m going to be taking photos with my kids.” Granny smiles.
Aguacate: “This isn’t your drag brand, my dear.”
“Oh, that’s fun…” Aguacate purses her lips. “How does it mean your drag?”
“For me, it’s about representing me. My family- that is a part, and that, in that… I see the drag.” Granny grins.
Aguacate: “Bad choice, mami…” Aguacate laughs. “Granny, you in DAAAAANGER…” Aguacate looks into the camera. “She may be doing good well, but she’s still a baby Queen, my viewer.”
“I am also doing this.” Crayola adds. “My classroom is my safe haven. I’m going to be reflecting that, in my local classroom.”
Aguacate: “Oh darling, boring!”
“I’m from Venice.” Fiore smiles. “To me, being on a gondola- high drag, couture, Italian theatre… that is me.”
Aguacate: “How original, being beautiful on the river of a- Oh wait, I kinda like that idea.”
“I am a little scared, myself.” Yasmin says. “I’m going to step before the Parliament building in drag.”
“...Drag is illegal, isn’t it?” Crayola looks at Yasmin with concern.
“It is. But it’s meaningful.” Yasmin nods.
Yasmin Raiz: “I want to show me. I am a comedian, but I believe too- my drag is revolutionary.”
Aguacate: “Imagine a prison disqualification?” Aguacate giggles.
“Nature is core to me.” Omari looks around. “I believe myself to be a King of Africa. A Chieftain, and I’m going to go to the Maasai Mara National Reserve. Open space, a natural landscape, Giraffes, Elephants, Lions… and me, the King of the Jungle.”
Aguacate: “He may get attacked. Imagine a MAWED disqualification!” Aguacate laughs. “I’m on fire, like…”
“Khwera Salt Mine.” Haja raises her notepad.
Haja Hubiani: “This is a challenge to showcase my styling skills. I’ve looked at the concept, I’ve looked at the idea… This is MY moment.” Haja clutches her chest.
Aguacate: “I don’t know where that is.”
“McQueen is core to my brand, and I have also planned!” Zazu raises her notepad as Aguacate eyes her. “The McQueen storefront in South Africa.”
“Oooh…” Aguacate purses her lips.
Aguacate: “Girl.” Aguacate giggles.
“And Hideyoshi?” Aguacate raises an eyebrow.
“Not sure yet.” Hideyoshi laughs. “Probably on a traditional stage. That’s where I shine.”
“I’m not going to speak…” Haja whispers under her breath.
“Well, I’M going to Teotihuacán to show my ancient heritage, baby!” Aguacate yells.
“Well…” Granny looks at everyone. “Good luck, all…”
“And don’t fuck it up.” Haja winks.
~
In Mexico…
Aguacate stands before Teotihuacán, dressed as a sun god.
“Today, I am here, representing my NATIVE ROOTS.” Aguacate raises her hands. “I am A GOD!”
The ancient landmark is silent as Aguacate’s voice booms.
“This is me. I believe myself to be a legend.” Aguacate leans against the structure. “ASSISTANT? I NEED A STAFF?”
Aguacate walks to her left and picks up the staff.
“Most of the time, my drag is more camp, but today, I will take an opposing approach. Instead, it is MEXICAN. That is core to it, regardless. So, EMBRACE IT!” Aguacate yells.
“Okay, I want to showcase and act as if I am about to sacrifice someone.” Aguacate looks into the camera. “We did human sacrifice, you know.”
~
Crayola Boxx waves. “Hello!”
Crayola adjusts a picture of herself out of drag as she sits on the desk.
“This is my classroom. It’s not a traditional New Zealand Landmark, but I believe it is MY New Zealand Landmark.” Crayola grins.
Crayola spins around, dressed in a multicoloured look with tons of tassels.
“I’ve been teaching for nearly…” Crayola ponders. “10 years?”
Crayola gulps, before smiling.
“I am old.” Crayola chuckles. “But it is my creative hub. There’s two kinds of Crayola- me in drag, and me out of it.”
Crayola looks into the camera. “Now you get to see both.”
~
Fiore flicks back her hair.
“Hello, darlings.” Fiore smiles. “Welcome to Venice.”
The camera zooms out, booming as Fiore rides a gondola in the middle of the canal based city.
Fiore adjusts her long couture gown that nearly covers the entire boat.
“Whilst I am no longer the girl I once was- living here, my heart began here.” Fiore closes her eyes. “This wet city holds secrets.”
The gondola continues to flow through the small canals.
“Living here, you get used to your sea legs.” Fiore smirks. “I know how to stand on a boat, even in a couture gown in heels.”
The gondola rider gasps as he nearly hits another gondola, and Fiore holds a tight grip on it.
“See?” Fiore smirks.
~
“My grandchildren!” Granny waves.
The kids behind Granny look confused.
“Está tudo bem, crianças! Este é o show da vovó!” Granny yells.
The kids look at Granny with confusion, before hugging her.
“They haven’t seen me in drag before.” Granny says, with a smile.
Suddenly, one of the children start to cry.
“Martin, my dear Martin..” Granny picks them up.
The child continues to cry.
“Well, I think we need to get started.” Granny shrugs. “It’s authentic!”
Granny winks into the camera.
~
Haja waves in a booming undercover mine.
“Welcome to PAKISTAN!” Haja yells.
Haja holds onto a pickaxe and smiles, wearing a multi-layered look with a grin.
“I love to have my drag be beautiful, stylish. I also think at times it can be rough.”
Haja shrugs.
“What can I say, I love to shine.”
Haja touches a crystalline body of water.
“In my heart, I am a diamond under pressure. This is a historic monument… and I am the jewel.” Haja grins.
Haja holds up a crystal gem.
“For me, you will see me shine. This is the only option.” Haja grins.
~
“GIRLS!” Jaslene waves into the camera, as three other women wave.
“Hi.” Jaslene smirks.
Jaslene adjusts her tight little black dress.
“I have been through many things. I’ve made myself, this body, this skill from the ground up, baby.” Jaslene smirks.
Jaslene’s sisters hold onto her with a smile.
“These girls are the same. I may be the star… for now.” Jaslene smirks. “But we are the Philippines. We are proud, we are gorgeous, and we stand before you in this stage, one of my favourite venues in the world…”
Jaslene exhales.
“And I have never felt more ready to snap that shot.” Jaslene smirks.
“Take the camera out!”
~
“Welcome to the birth of civilization.” Omari smiles, breathing in the air.
A gust of wind is heard, and Omari looks into the camera.
“It’s a stampede.” Omari looks shocked, before he smirks. “Let’s run. I want pictures in action.”
Omari starts running, as the camera gets shaky.
“I BELIEVE I LIVE IN THE MOST BEAUTIFUL LAND IN THE WORLD!”
An elephant rushes past Omari.
“FOR ME, THE NATURAL ELEMENTS, THE WAY OF LIFE, THE-” Omari chuckles as he runs, the sound of hooves building and building.
“THE ANIMALS!” Omari yells. “AND I KNOW THIS. I THINK OF MYSELF AS THE KING OF SAVANNAH.”
A giraffe runs past and knocks over the camera causing it to break. Omari picks it up dramatically.
“And a survivor. No matter what.” Omari stops, eying the other animals now gone.
“For me, this is a challenge to showcase the Chief. I feel riveted. Here to win. And I hope you enjoy my world.” Omari smirks.
~
Hideyoshi laughs.
“I’m on stage!” Hideyoshi grins, looking into the camera.
“This is a local Kabuki theatre.” Hideyoshi nods. “I feel as if…” Hideyoshi stops himself.
Hideyoshi looks up, looks down… and grins.
“YES!” Hideyoshi nods. “Follow me.”
Hideyoshi walks through the theatre.
“So many doors.” Hideyoshi laughs.
Hideyoshi enters the a backstage portion of the theatre.
“Let’s do it here.” Hideyoshi nods. “WAIT!”
Hideyoshi grabs a mask and grins.
“For me, my drag, my joy is fun. And my brain doesn’t work like everyone else, I know. That’s what I THINK is my superpower.” Hideyoshi grins. “Let’s snap.”
Hideyoshi stops as the camera takes a photo at a flawed angle.
“WAIT, I HAVE ANOTHER IDEA!”
~
Yasmin looks slightly nervous before the camera, before nodding.
“This is hypealicious… this is exciting…” Yasmin stands before parliament house, late, late at night.
Yasmin looks around.
“The city is still lit.” Yasmin nods. “It is… beautiful.”
Yasmin exhales.
“I live here proudly. But, the laws, the existence I have is not the same as many. I struggle, living in a society where I can’t be me.”
Yasmin sighs.
“But the reality is, this is my home.” Yasmin looks proudly. “And I believe it will be important to showcase myself.”
Yasmin sits before the steps.
“I want to show anyone who lives here, in this country- we exist, we are proud, and we do the best damn drag in the world!” Yasmin throws her hands in the air.
“Let’s do it.”
~
Zazu looks excitedly.
“AHH!” Zazu cheers.
Zazu stands in front of a ‘McQueen’ store.
“I have a story.” Zazu laughs.
Zazu giggles.
“I watched the movie CARS, and I was a huge fan. Lightning McQueen was a favourite of mine.”
Zazu winks, wearing a real couture McQueen outfit.
“I loved fashion, and McQueen was one of my faves. And I saw the movie and like, LOVED IT.”
Zazu nods.
“So, I obviously thought Lightning McQueen and Alexander McQueen were related. They aren't. SHOCKING, right?” Zazu gasps.
“In my fantasy they are one in the same!” Zazu laughs. “I love being a bit silly. I love fashion. You get a bit of both.”
Zazu giggles. “Okay, let’s do it!”
~
Each of the racers look at the camera as a producer yells.
“You’re going back onto a plane, straight onto the runway for the challenge.”
“OH MY GASPGOSHITICOUS?!” Yasmin yells.
“Bring it.” Omari smirks.
“Oooh…” Haja grins.
“THIS IS SO FUN!” Zazu laughs.
“I’m old.” Granny chuckles. “Can’t we go a little slower?!”
“Fun.” Hideyoshi smiles.
“This was supposed to be a break.” Crayola laughs.
“Fierce.” Fiore chuckles.
“I love you, girls.” Jaslene blows a kiss.
Aguacate cheers. “LET US DO IT!”
~
Stats
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submitted by AustralianChrono to ChronologicasDragRace [link] [comments]
Jaslene smirks, spinning around as she drops to the floor, making her eyes fixed at the judges as she hits each and every spanish word.
Pues les va de maravilla, la apariencia mas sencilla
Kunthea turns to the side of the stage before dropping in a death drop, flipping their hair around wildly.
Aguacate: “She doesn’t know the WORDS! Perra!”
Pretendamos concentrarnos en lo que haré nuestro cuerpo
Yasmin shakes and shimmies, before she plays with the spikes on her chest as the judges cackle with her campy take on the song.
A Cleopatra no le importa en el amor la entrega
Zazu winks, dancing and giving high energy, as she surprisingly appears to know every beat of the Spanish song.
Arrasando con lo bueno
There’s a split screen as the four girls all dance their ass off, as Chronologica grins, looking at each of them with a smile.
Esta luz que en mi deslumbra
Yasmin hits the ground on her knees, Jaslene lands in a split, Kunthea winks and Zazu twirls as the song ends.
…
…
…
Yasmin Raiz, Shantay you stay.
Yasmin bows.
…
…
Zazu Nova, Shantay you stay.
Omari gasps, as Jaslene looks at Kunthea with shock.
Fiore Stravaganza: “The girls…”
…
…
…
…
…
…
Jaslene Bangus, Shantay you stay.
“Thank you.” Jaslene looks at Kunthea, before hugging her. “I love you, girl.”
Kunthea Angel, you are a beautiful, fierce Queen. But today, I must say sashay… away.
“Fuck yeah.” Kunthea smirks. “Thank you.”
Kunthea hugs Jaslene again, before walking over to Fiore.
“Peace.” Kunthea throws a peace sign.
Kunthea Angel: “I didn’t expect to go so soon. But fuck, you know- shit happens. I fought, and us A.E girls- I know we’re gonna slay.”
Lipstick Message: “A.E girls forever, baby! Good luck, and dominate.”
~
The racers enter the werkroom.
“A.E girls forever, baby.” Jaslene puts her hand on her chest, wiping the mirror.
“What a gag.” Zazu exhales.
“Literally, I am NEVER not cooking before a challenge reveal again.” Yasmin laughs, sitting down.
“..That was an intense time.” Omari purses his lips.
“Intense is an understatement.” Granny laughs.
“You know, the energy was hard- this was challenging.” Zazu puts her heart on her chest. “But I think we need to move forward.”
Aguacate: “I mean, we all KNOW I’ve been fantastic. But whatever, let us move forward, cut the fat a bit.”
“I feel ready for this next challenge already, because it’s an opportunity to prove ourselves.” Haja says. “I’m planning on winning.”
Hideyoshi rolls his eyes.
Toyotomi Hideyoshi: “I’m PLANNING to win too!”
“I know…” Crayola looks at the others. “Last week was a struggle. But we 10 are here, we are strong, powerful artists- and I am thankful to be working with you all.”
“Working together is great, but I’d love a challenge solo, truly.” Fiore puts her hand around Jaslene. “Love you girl, but a moment for me to focus on myself would be nice.”
“Agreed.” Omari adds.
“Let’s sit in this moment, and celebrate.” Granny takes a half drunk glass. “To whatever comes next!”
The other races begrudgingly cheer.
Haja Hubiani: “I know last week I did good, but I didn’t do GREAT. We’re all here to prove ourselves, but some are showcasing more then others. That has to change.”
“Two wins, my gosh…” Granny smiles at Omari.
Haja Hubiani: “I’m here to prove to the world my style of drag- planned, efficient, high drag… and those who exist? They’ll be damned. Just wait and see…”
Hideyoshi cackles with Aguacate.
Haja Hubiani: “I am here to win.”
~
The Next Day, Yasmin starts handing out plates.
“Hold on, take a plate.” Yasmin smiles.
Yasmin Raiz: “Last time I didn’t cook, I was in the bottom. Oh, no. We’re NEEEEVER taking another chance again!”
“What’s on today’s menu?” Omari raises an eyebrow.
“Veggie Sushi!” Yasmin winks. “With Jasmine Rice.”
“It’s you!” Granny chuckles.
“It is.” Yasmin laughs.
“...Wait, what?” Zazu asks, confused.
“...Jasmine Rice, my name?” Yasmin looks at Zazu.
Zazu gasps.
“Oh, I didn’t realise that either.” Crayola chuckles.
“Neither did I…” Jaslene puts her hand up.
“Same.” Hideyoshi laughs.
Yasmin cackles.
You’ve got drag mail!
Granny drops the bowl of rice.
“DARLING, NOW YOU ARE IN DANGER!” Yasmin yells.
Granny chuckles.
Detox. Relax. It’s time. Home time!
“Home time?” Haja raises an eyebrow.
It’s Drag Time!
Hello, racers.
It’s time to pack up. These last few weeks have been intense. We’re going to separate, detox, rest and relax before you all interact again.
Everyone laughs, whilst looking confused.
For this week’s maxi challenge, I am SHIPPING you back on a two-way ticket home- and here again. You’re going home to present yourselves in the form of a photoshoot, baby!
Jaslene Bangus: “I’ve always been a supermodel. And now, you give me a shoot?” Jaslene smirks. “Slay.”
I want to see your home country, and YOUR DRAG BRAND best represented in the form of a shoot. You have… 30 minutes on the bus to start preparing for the journey home. Good luck… and don’t FUCK IT UP!
Everyone frantically starts running, as Hideyoshi sits.
…It’s go time, Hideyoshi.
“I’m… not planning.” Hideyoshi looks at Chronologica. “I have my idea already.”
Chronologica raises an eyebrow.
Toyotomi Hideyoshi: “It’s done me well this time. I know it will again.”
Good luck…
Chronologica looks at Hideyoshi, as he slinks into his seat.
~
The racers sit around their bus, looking at each other as they start talking, some planning, some chatting.
“Okay, okay…” Aguacate grins. “My drags. What are we doing? Where are we all going?!”
“I’ve already picked up the phone and made some calls.” Jaslene smirks. “Me and my sisters, powerful trans women in my favourite club in Manila, Stargirl.” Jaslene nods. “I am here to showcase women- power, beautiful and the girls I love.”
Aguacate: “Have other girls steal your focus?!” Aguacate laughs.
“I feel the same.” Granny nods. “I’m going to be taking photos with my kids.” Granny smiles.
Aguacate: “This isn’t your drag brand, my dear.”
“Oh, that’s fun…” Aguacate purses her lips. “How does it mean your drag?”
“For me, it’s about representing me. My family- that is a part, and that, in that… I see the drag.” Granny grins.
Aguacate: “Bad choice, mami…” Aguacate laughs. “Granny, you in DAAAAANGER…” Aguacate looks into the camera. “She may be doing good well, but she’s still a baby Queen, my viewer.”
“I am also doing this.” Crayola adds. “My classroom is my safe haven. I’m going to be reflecting that, in my local classroom.”
Aguacate: “Oh darling, boring!”
“I’m from Venice.” Fiore smiles. “To me, being on a gondola- high drag, couture, Italian theatre… that is me.”
Aguacate: “How original, being beautiful on the river of a- Oh wait, I kinda like that idea.”
“I am a little scared, myself.” Yasmin says. “I’m going to step before the Parliament building in drag.”
“...Drag is illegal, isn’t it?” Crayola looks at Yasmin with concern.
“It is. But it’s meaningful.” Yasmin nods.
Yasmin Raiz: “I want to show me. I am a comedian, but I believe too- my drag is revolutionary.”
Aguacate: “Imagine a prison disqualification?” Aguacate giggles.
“Nature is core to me.” Omari looks around. “I believe myself to be a King of Africa. A Chieftain, and I’m going to go to the Maasai Mara National Reserve. Open space, a natural landscape, Giraffes, Elephants, Lions… and me, the King of the Jungle.”
Aguacate: “He may get attacked. Imagine a MAWED disqualification!” Aguacate laughs. “I’m on fire, like…”
“Khwera Salt Mine.” Haja raises her notepad.
Haja Hubiani: “This is a challenge to showcase my styling skills. I’ve looked at the concept, I’ve looked at the idea… This is MY moment.” Haja clutches her chest.
Aguacate: “I don’t know where that is.”
“McQueen is core to my brand, and I have also planned!” Zazu raises her notepad as Aguacate eyes her. “The McQueen storefront in South Africa.”
“Oooh…” Aguacate purses her lips.
Aguacate: “Girl.” Aguacate giggles.
“And Hideyoshi?” Aguacate raises an eyebrow.
“Not sure yet.” Hideyoshi laughs. “Probably on a traditional stage. That’s where I shine.”
“I’m not going to speak…” Haja whispers under her breath.
“Well, I’M going to Teotihuacán to show my ancient heritage, baby!” Aguacate yells.
“Well…” Granny looks at everyone. “Good luck, all…”
“And don’t fuck it up.” Haja winks.
~
In Mexico…
Aguacate stands before Teotihuacán, dressed as a sun god.
“Today, I am here, representing my NATIVE ROOTS.” Aguacate raises her hands. “I am A GOD!”
The ancient landmark is silent as Aguacate’s voice booms.
“This is me. I believe myself to be a legend.” Aguacate leans against the structure. “ASSISTANT? I NEED A STAFF?”
Aguacate walks to her left and picks up the staff.
“Most of the time, my drag is more camp, but today, I will take an opposing approach. Instead, it is MEXICAN. That is core to it, regardless. So, EMBRACE IT!” Aguacate yells.
“Okay, I want to showcase and act as if I am about to sacrifice someone.” Aguacate looks into the camera. “We did human sacrifice, you know.”
~
Crayola Boxx waves. “Hello!”
Crayola adjusts a picture of herself out of drag as she sits on the desk.
“This is my classroom. It’s not a traditional New Zealand Landmark, but I believe it is MY New Zealand Landmark.” Crayola grins.
Crayola spins around, dressed in a multicoloured look with tons of tassels.
“I’ve been teaching for nearly…” Crayola ponders. “10 years?”
Crayola gulps, before smiling.
“I am old.” Crayola chuckles. “But it is my creative hub. There’s two kinds of Crayola- me in drag, and me out of it.”
Crayola looks into the camera. “Now you get to see both.”
~
Fiore flicks back her hair.
“Hello, darlings.” Fiore smiles. “Welcome to Venice.”
The camera zooms out, booming as Fiore rides a gondola in the middle of the canal based city.
Fiore adjusts her long couture gown that nearly covers the entire boat.
“Whilst I am no longer the girl I once was- living here, my heart began here.” Fiore closes her eyes. “This wet city holds secrets.”
The gondola continues to flow through the small canals.
“Living here, you get used to your sea legs.” Fiore smirks. “I know how to stand on a boat, even in a couture gown in heels.”
The gondola rider gasps as he nearly hits another gondola, and Fiore holds a tight grip on it.
“See?” Fiore smirks.
~
“My grandchildren!” Granny waves.
The kids behind Granny look confused.
“Está tudo bem, crianças! Este é o show da vovó!” Granny yells.
The kids look at Granny with confusion, before hugging her.
“They haven’t seen me in drag before.” Granny says, with a smile.
Suddenly, one of the children start to cry.
“Martin, my dear Martin..” Granny picks them up.
The child continues to cry.
“Well, I think we need to get started.” Granny shrugs. “It’s authentic!”
Granny winks into the camera.
~
Haja waves in a booming undercover mine.
“Welcome to PAKISTAN!” Haja yells.
Haja holds onto a pickaxe and smiles, wearing a multi-layered look with a grin.
“I love to have my drag be beautiful, stylish. I also think at times it can be rough.”
Haja shrugs.
“What can I say, I love to shine.”
Haja touches a crystalline body of water.
“In my heart, I am a diamond under pressure. This is a historic monument… and I am the jewel.” Haja grins.
Haja holds up a crystal gem.
“For me, you will see me shine. This is the only option.” Haja grins.
~
“GIRLS!” Jaslene waves into the camera, as three other women wave.
“Hi.” Jaslene smirks.
Jaslene adjusts her tight little black dress.
“I have been through many things. I’ve made myself, this body, this skill from the ground up, baby.” Jaslene smirks.
Jaslene’s sisters hold onto her with a smile.
“These girls are the same. I may be the star… for now.” Jaslene smirks. “But we are the Philippines. We are proud, we are gorgeous, and we stand before you in this stage, one of my favourite venues in the world…”
Jaslene exhales.
“And I have never felt more ready to snap that shot.” Jaslene smirks.
“Take the camera out!”
~
“Welcome to the birth of civilization.” Omari smiles, breathing in the air.
A gust of wind is heard, and Omari looks into the camera.
“It’s a stampede.” Omari looks shocked, before he smirks. “Let’s run. I want pictures in action.”
Omari starts running, as the camera gets shaky.
“I BELIEVE I LIVE IN THE MOST BEAUTIFUL LAND IN THE WORLD!”
An elephant rushes past Omari.
“FOR ME, THE NATURAL ELEMENTS, THE WAY OF LIFE, THE-” Omari chuckles as he runs, the sound of hooves building and building.
“THE ANIMALS!” Omari yells. “AND I KNOW THIS. I THINK OF MYSELF AS THE KING OF SAVANNAH.”
A giraffe runs past and knocks over the camera causing it to break. Omari picks it up dramatically.
“And a survivor. No matter what.” Omari stops, eying the other animals now gone.
“For me, this is a challenge to showcase the Chief. I feel riveted. Here to win. And I hope you enjoy my world.” Omari smirks.
~
Hideyoshi laughs.
“I’m on stage!” Hideyoshi grins, looking into the camera.
“This is a local Kabuki theatre.” Hideyoshi nods. “I feel as if…” Hideyoshi stops himself.
Hideyoshi looks up, looks down… and grins.
“YES!” Hideyoshi nods. “Follow me.”
Hideyoshi walks through the theatre.
“So many doors.” Hideyoshi laughs.
Hideyoshi enters the a backstage portion of the theatre.
“Let’s do it here.” Hideyoshi nods. “WAIT!”
Hideyoshi grabs a mask and grins.
“For me, my drag, my joy is fun. And my brain doesn’t work like everyone else, I know. That’s what I THINK is my superpower.” Hideyoshi grins. “Let’s snap.”
Hideyoshi stops as the camera takes a photo at a flawed angle.
“WAIT, I HAVE ANOTHER IDEA!”
~
Yasmin looks slightly nervous before the camera, before nodding.
“This is hypealicious… this is exciting…” Yasmin stands before parliament house, late, late at night.
Yasmin looks around.
“The city is still lit.” Yasmin nods. “It is… beautiful.”
Yasmin exhales.
“I live here proudly. But, the laws, the existence I have is not the same as many. I struggle, living in a society where I can’t be me.”
Yasmin sighs.
“But the reality is, this is my home.” Yasmin looks proudly. “And I believe it will be important to showcase myself.”
Yasmin sits before the steps.
“I want to show anyone who lives here, in this country- we exist, we are proud, and we do the best damn drag in the world!” Yasmin throws her hands in the air.
“Let’s do it.”
~
Zazu looks excitedly.
“AHH!” Zazu cheers.
Zazu stands in front of a ‘McQueen’ store.
“I have a story.” Zazu laughs.
Zazu giggles.
“I watched the movie CARS, and I was a huge fan. Lightning McQueen was a favourite of mine.”
Zazu winks, wearing a real couture McQueen outfit.
“I loved fashion, and McQueen was one of my faves. And I saw the movie and like, LOVED IT.”
Zazu nods.
“So, I obviously thought Lightning McQueen and Alexander McQueen were related. They aren't. SHOCKING, right?” Zazu gasps.
“In my fantasy they are one in the same!” Zazu laughs. “I love being a bit silly. I love fashion. You get a bit of both.”
Zazu giggles. “Okay, let’s do it!”
~
Each of the racers look at the camera as a producer yells.
“You’re going back onto a plane, straight onto the runway for the challenge.”
“OH MY GASPGOSHITICOUS?!” Yasmin yells.
“Bring it.” Omari smirks.
“Oooh…” Haja grins.
“THIS IS SO FUN!” Zazu laughs.
“I’m old.” Granny chuckles. “Can’t we go a little slower?!”
“Fun.” Hideyoshi smiles.
“This was supposed to be a break.” Crayola laughs.
“Fierce.” Fiore chuckles.
“I love you, girls.” Jaslene blows a kiss.
Aguacate cheers. “LET US DO IT!”
~
Stats
Voting
Spreadsheet
2023.05.28 00:13 AustralianChrono Chronologica's Drag Race Season 4: Episode 5- Snap That Shot
Arrasando oye papi damelo todo
Jaslene smirks, spinning around as she drops to the floor, making her eyes fixed at the judges as she hits each and every spanish word.
Pues les va de maravilla, la apariencia mas sencilla
Kunthea turns to the side of the stage before dropping in a death drop, flipping their hair around wildly.
Aguacate: “She doesn’t know the WORDS! Perra!”
Pretendamos concentrarnos en lo que haré nuestro cuerpo
Yasmin shakes and shimmies, before she plays with the spikes on her chest as the judges cackle with her campy take on the song.
A Cleopatra no le importa en el amor la entrega
Zazu winks, dancing and giving high energy, as she surprisingly appears to know every beat of the Spanish song.
Arrasando con lo bueno
There’s a split screen as the four girls all dance their ass off, as Chronologica grins, looking at each of them with a smile.
Esta luz que en mi deslumbra
Yasmin hits the ground on her knees, Jaslene lands in a split, Kunthea winks and Zazu twirls as the song ends.
…
…
…
Yasmin Raiz, Shantay you stay.
Yasmin bows.
…
…
Zazu Nova, Shantay you stay.
Omari gasps, as Jaslene looks at Kunthea with shock.
Fiore Stravaganza: “The girls…”
…
…
…
…
…
…
Jaslene Bangus, Shantay you stay.
“Thank you.” Jaslene looks at Kunthea, before hugging her. “I love you, girl.”
Kunthea Angel, you are a beautiful, fierce Queen. But today, I must say sashay… away.
“Fuck yeah.” Kunthea smirks. “Thank you.”
Kunthea hugs Jaslene again, before walking over to Fiore.
“Peace.” Kunthea throws a peace sign.
Kunthea Angel: “I didn’t expect to go so soon. But fuck, you know- shit happens. I fought, and us A.E girls- I know we’re gonna slay.”
Lipstick Message: “A.E girls forever, baby! Good luck, and dominate.”
~
The racers enter the werkroom.
“A.E girls forever, baby.” Jaslene puts her hand on her chest, wiping the mirror.
“What a gag.” Zazu exhales.
“Literally, I am NEVER not cooking before a challenge reveal again.” Yasmin laughs, sitting down.
“..That was an intense time.” Omari purses his lips.
“Intense is an understatement.” Granny laughs.
“You know, the energy was hard- this was challenging.” Zazu puts her heart on her chest. “But I think we need to move forward.”
Aguacate: “I mean, we all KNOW I’ve been fantastic. But whatever, let us move forward, cut the fat a bit.”
“I feel ready for this next challenge already, because it’s an opportunity to prove ourselves.” Haja says. “I’m planning on winning.”
Hideyoshi rolls his eyes.
Toyotomi Hideyoshi: “I’m PLANNING to win too!”
“I know…” Crayola looks at the others. “Last week was a struggle. But we 10 are here, we are strong, powerful artists- and I am thankful to be working with you all.”
“Working together is great, but I’d love a challenge solo, truly.” Fiore puts her hand around Jaslene. “Love you girl, but a moment for me to focus on myself would be nice.”
“Agreed.” Omari adds.
“Let’s sit in this moment, and celebrate.” Granny takes a half drunk glass. “To whatever comes next!”
The other races begrudgingly cheer.
Haja Hubiani: “I know last week I did good, but I didn’t do GREAT. We’re all here to prove ourselves, but some are showcasing more then others. That has to change.”
“Two wins, my gosh…” Granny smiles at Omari.
Haja Hubiani: “I’m here to prove to the world my style of drag- planned, efficient, high drag… and those who exist? They’ll be damned. Just wait and see…”
Hideyoshi cackles with Aguacate.
Haja Hubiani: “I am here to win.”
~
The Next Day, Yasmin starts handing out plates.
“Hold on, take a plate.” Yasmin smiles.
Yasmin Raiz: “Last time I didn’t cook, I was in the bottom. Oh, no. We’re NEEEEVER taking another chance again!”
“What’s on today’s menu?” Omari raises an eyebrow.
“Veggie Sushi!” Yasmin winks. “With Jasmine Rice.”
“It’s you!” Granny chuckles.
“It is.” Yasmin laughs.
“...Wait, what?” Zazu asks, confused.
“...Jasmine Rice, my name?” Yasmin looks at Zazu.
Zazu gasps.
“Oh, I didn’t realise that either.” Crayola chuckles.
“Neither did I…” Jaslene puts her hand up.
“Same.” Hideyoshi laughs.
Yasmin cackles.
You’ve got drag mail!
Granny drops the bowl of rice.
“DARLING, NOW YOU ARE IN DANGER!” Yasmin yells.
Granny chuckles.
Detox. Relax. It’s time. Home time!
“Home time?” Haja raises an eyebrow.
It’s Drag Time!
Hello, racers.
It’s time to pack up. These last few weeks have been intense. We’re going to separate, detox, rest and relax before you all interact again.
Everyone laughs, whilst looking confused.
For this week’s maxi challenge, I am SHIPPING you back on a two-way ticket home- and here again. You’re going home to present yourselves in the form of a photoshoot, baby!
Jaslene Bangus: “I’ve always been a supermodel. And now, you give me a shoot?” Jaslene smirks. “Slay.”
I want to see your home country, and YOUR DRAG BRAND best represented in the form of a shoot. You have… 30 minutes on the bus to start preparing for the journey home. Good luck… and don’t FUCK IT UP!
Everyone frantically starts running, as Hideyoshi sits.
…It’s go time, Hideyoshi.
“I’m… not planning.” Hideyoshi looks at Chronologica. “I have my idea already.”
Chronologica raises an eyebrow.
Toyotomi Hideyoshi: “It’s done me well this time. I know it will again.”
Good luck…
Chronologica looks at Hideyoshi, as he slinks into his seat.
~
The racers sit around their bus, looking at each other as they start talking, some planning, some chatting.
“Okay, okay…” Aguacate grins. “My drags. What are we doing? Where are we all going?!”
“I’ve already picked up the phone and made some calls.” Jaslene smirks. “Me and my sisters, powerful trans women in my favourite club in Manila, Stargirl.” Jaslene nods. “I am here to showcase women- power, beautiful and the girls I love.”
Aguacate: “Have other girls steal your focus?!” Aguacate laughs.
“I feel the same.” Granny nods. “I’m going to be taking photos with my kids.” Granny smiles.
Aguacate: “This isn’t your drag brand, my dear.”
“Oh, that’s fun…” Aguacate purses her lips. “How does it mean your drag?”
“For me, it’s about representing me. My family- that is a part, and that, in that… I see the drag.” Granny grins.
Aguacate: “Bad choice, mami…” Aguacate laughs. “Granny, you in DAAAAANGER…” Aguacate looks into the camera. “She may be doing good well, but she’s still a baby Queen, my viewer.”
“I am also doing this.” Crayola adds. “My classroom is my safe haven. I’m going to be reflecting that, in my local classroom.”
Aguacate: “Oh darling, boring!”
“I’m from Venice.” Fiore smiles. “To me, being on a gondola- high drag, couture, Italian theatre… that is me.”
Aguacate: “How original, being beautiful on the river of a- Oh wait, I kinda like that idea.”
“I am a little scared, myself.” Yasmin says. “I’m going to step before the Parliament building in drag.”
“...Drag is illegal, isn’t it?” Crayola looks at Yasmin with concern.
“It is. But it’s meaningful.” Yasmin nods.
Yasmin Raiz: “I want to show me. I am a comedian, but I believe too- my drag is revolutionary.”
Aguacate: “Imagine a prison disqualification?” Aguacate giggles.
“Nature is core to me.” Omari looks around. “I believe myself to be a King of Africa. A Chieftain, and I’m going to go to the Maasai Mara National Reserve. Open space, a natural landscape, Giraffes, Elephants, Lions… and me, the King of the Jungle.”
Aguacate: “He may get attacked. Imagine a MAWED disqualification!” Aguacate laughs. “I’m on fire, like…”
“Khwera Salt Mine.” Haja raises her notepad.
Haja Hubiani: “This is a challenge to showcase my styling skills. I’ve looked at the concept, I’ve looked at the idea… This is MY moment.” Haja clutches her chest.
Aguacate: “I don’t know where that is.”
“McQueen is core to my brand, and I have also planned!” Zazu raises her notepad as Aguacate eyes her. “The McQueen storefront in South Africa.”
“Oooh…” Aguacate purses her lips.
Aguacate: “Girl.” Aguacate giggles.
“And Hideyoshi?” Aguacate raises an eyebrow.
“Not sure yet.” Hideyoshi laughs. “Probably on a traditional stage. That’s where I shine.”
“I’m not going to speak…” Haja whispers under her breath.
“Well, I’M going to Teotihuacán to show my ancient heritage, baby!” Aguacate yells.
“Well…” Granny looks at everyone. “Good luck, all…”
“And don’t fuck it up.” Haja winks.
~
In Mexico…
Aguacate stands before Teotihuacán, dressed as a sun god.
“Today, I am here, representing my NATIVE ROOTS.” Aguacate raises her hands. “I am A GOD!”
The ancient landmark is silent as Aguacate’s voice booms.
“This is me. I believe myself to be a legend.” Aguacate leans against the structure. “ASSISTANT? I NEED A STAFF?”
Aguacate walks to her left and picks up the staff.
“Most of the time, my drag is more camp, but today, I will take an opposing approach. Instead, it is MEXICAN. That is core to it, regardless. So, EMBRACE IT!” Aguacate yells.
“Okay, I want to showcase and act as if I am about to sacrifice someone.” Aguacate looks into the camera. “We did human sacrifice, you know.”
~
Crayola Boxx waves. “Hello!”
Crayola adjusts a picture of herself out of drag as she sits on the desk.
“This is my classroom. It’s not a traditional New Zealand Landmark, but I believe it is MY New Zealand Landmark.” Crayola grins.
Crayola spins around, dressed in a multicoloured look with tons of tassels.
“I’ve been teaching for nearly…” Crayola ponders. “10 years?”
Crayola gulps, before smiling.
“I am old.” Crayola chuckles. “But it is my creative hub. There’s two kinds of Crayola- me in drag, and me out of it.”
Crayola looks into the camera. “Now you get to see both.”
~
Fiore flicks back her hair.
“Hello, darlings.” Fiore smiles. “Welcome to Venice.”
The camera zooms out, booming as Fiore rides a gondola in the middle of the canal based city.
Fiore adjusts her long couture gown that nearly covers the entire boat.
“Whilst I am no longer the girl I once was- living here, my heart began here.” Fiore closes her eyes. “This wet city holds secrets.”
The gondola continues to flow through the small canals.
“Living here, you get used to your sea legs.” Fiore smirks. “I know how to stand on a boat, even in a couture gown in heels.”
The gondola rider gasps as he nearly hits another gondola, and Fiore holds a tight grip on it.
“See?” Fiore smirks.
~
“My grandchildren!” Granny waves.
The kids behind Granny look confused.
“Está tudo bem, crianças! Este é o show da vovó!” Granny yells.
The kids look at Granny with confusion, before hugging her.
“They haven’t seen me in drag before.” Granny says, with a smile.
Suddenly, one of the children start to cry.
“Martin, my dear Martin..” Granny picks them up.
The child continues to cry.
“Well, I think we need to get started.” Granny shrugs. “It’s authentic!”
Granny winks into the camera.
~
Haja waves in a booming undercover mine.
“Welcome to PAKISTAN!” Haja yells.
Haja holds onto a pickaxe and smiles, wearing a multi-layered look with a grin.
“I love to have my drag be beautiful, stylish. I also think at times it can be rough.”
Haja shrugs.
“What can I say, I love to shine.”
Haja touches a crystalline body of water.
“In my heart, I am a diamond under pressure. This is a historic monument… and I am the jewel.” Haja grins.
Haja holds up a crystal gem.
“For me, you will see me shine. This is the only option.” Haja grins.
~
“GIRLS!” Jaslene waves into the camera, as three other women wave.
“Hi.” Jaslene smirks.
Jaslene adjusts her tight little black dress.
“I have been through many things. I’ve made myself, this body, this skill from the ground up, baby.” Jaslene smirks.
Jaslene’s sisters hold onto her with a smile.
“These girls are the same. I may be the star… for now.” Jaslene smirks. “But we are the Philippines. We are proud, we are gorgeous, and we stand before you in this stage, one of my favourite venues in the world…”
Jaslene exhales.
“And I have never felt more ready to snap that shot.” Jaslene smirks.
“Take the camera out!”
~
“Welcome to the birth of civilization.” Omari smiles, breathing in the air.
A gust of wind is heard, and Omari looks into the camera.
“It’s a stampede.” Omari looks shocked, before he smirks. “Let’s run. I want pictures in action.”
Omari starts running, as the camera gets shaky.
“I BELIEVE I LIVE IN THE MOST BEAUTIFUL LAND IN THE WORLD!”
An elephant rushes past Omari.
“FOR ME, THE NATURAL ELEMENTS, THE WAY OF LIFE, THE-” Omari chuckles as he runs, the sound of hooves building and building.
“THE ANIMALS!” Omari yells. “AND I KNOW THIS. I THINK OF MYSELF AS THE KING OF SAVANNAH.”
A giraffe runs past and knocks over the camera causing it to break. Omari picks it up dramatically.
“And a survivor. No matter what.” Omari stops, eying the other animals now gone.
“For me, this is a challenge to showcase the Chief. I feel riveted. Here to win. And I hope you enjoy my world.” Omari smirks.
~
Hideyoshi laughs.
“I’m on stage!” Hideyoshi grins, looking into the camera.
“This is a local Kabuki theatre.” Hideyoshi nods. “I feel as if…” Hideyoshi stops himself.
Hideyoshi looks up, looks down… and grins.
“YES!” Hideyoshi nods. “Follow me.”
Hideyoshi walks through the theatre.
“So many doors.” Hideyoshi laughs.
Hideyoshi enters the a backstage portion of the theatre.
“Let’s do it here.” Hideyoshi nods. “WAIT!”
Hideyoshi grabs a mask and grins.
“For me, my drag, my joy is fun. And my brain doesn’t work like everyone else, I know. That’s what I THINK is my superpower.” Hideyoshi grins. “Let’s snap.”
Hideyoshi stops as the camera takes a photo at a flawed angle.
“WAIT, I HAVE ANOTHER IDEA!”
~
Yasmin looks slightly nervous before the camera, before nodding.
“This is hypealicious… this is exciting…” Yasmin stands before parliament house, late, late at night.
Yasmin looks around.
“The city is still lit.” Yasmin nods. “It is… beautiful.”
Yasmin exhales.
“I live here proudly. But, the laws, the existence I have is not the same as many. I struggle, living in a society where I can’t be me.”
Yasmin sighs.
“But the reality is, this is my home.” Yasmin looks proudly. “And I believe it will be important to showcase myself.”
Yasmin sits before the steps.
“I want to show anyone who lives here, in this country- we exist, we are proud, and we do the best damn drag in the world!” Yasmin throws her hands in the air.
“Let’s do it.”
~
Zazu looks excitedly.
“AHH!” Zazu cheers.
Zazu stands in front of a ‘McQueen’ store.
“I have a story.” Zazu laughs.
Zazu giggles.
“I watched the movie CARS, and I was a huge fan. Lightning McQueen was a favourite of mine.”
Zazu winks, wearing a real couture McQueen outfit.
“I loved fashion, and McQueen was one of my faves. And I saw the movie and like, LOVED IT.”
Zazu nods.
“So, I obviously thought Lightning McQueen and Alexander McQueen were related. They aren't. SHOCKING, right?” Zazu gasps.
“In my fantasy they are one in the same!” Zazu laughs. “I love being a bit silly. I love fashion. You get a bit of both.”
Zazu giggles. “Okay, let’s do it!”
~
Each of the racers look at the camera as a producer yells.
“You’re going back onto a plane, straight onto the runway for the challenge.”
“OH MY GASPGOSHITICOUS?!” Yasmin yells.
“Bring it.” Omari smirks.
“Oooh…” Haja grins.
“THIS IS SO FUN!” Zazu laughs.
“I’m old.” Granny chuckles. “Can’t we go a little slower?!”
“Fun.” Hideyoshi smiles.
“This was supposed to be a break.” Crayola laughs.
“Fierce.” Fiore chuckles.
“I love you, girls.” Jaslene blows a kiss.
Aguacate cheers. “LET US DO IT!”
~
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Jaslene smirks, spinning around as she drops to the floor, making her eyes fixed at the judges as she hits each and every spanish word.
Pues les va de maravilla, la apariencia mas sencilla
Kunthea turns to the side of the stage before dropping in a death drop, flipping their hair around wildly.
Aguacate: “She doesn’t know the WORDS! Perra!”
Pretendamos concentrarnos en lo que haré nuestro cuerpo
Yasmin shakes and shimmies, before she plays with the spikes on her chest as the judges cackle with her campy take on the song.
A Cleopatra no le importa en el amor la entrega
Zazu winks, dancing and giving high energy, as she surprisingly appears to know every beat of the Spanish song.
Arrasando con lo bueno
There’s a split screen as the four girls all dance their ass off, as Chronologica grins, looking at each of them with a smile.
Esta luz que en mi deslumbra
Yasmin hits the ground on her knees, Jaslene lands in a split, Kunthea winks and Zazu twirls as the song ends.
…
…
…
Yasmin Raiz, Shantay you stay.
Yasmin bows.
…
…
Zazu Nova, Shantay you stay.
Omari gasps, as Jaslene looks at Kunthea with shock.
Fiore Stravaganza: “The girls…”
…
…
…
…
…
…
Jaslene Bangus, Shantay you stay.
“Thank you.” Jaslene looks at Kunthea, before hugging her. “I love you, girl.”
Kunthea Angel, you are a beautiful, fierce Queen. But today, I must say sashay… away.
“Fuck yeah.” Kunthea smirks. “Thank you.”
Kunthea hugs Jaslene again, before walking over to Fiore.
“Peace.” Kunthea throws a peace sign.
Kunthea Angel: “I didn’t expect to go so soon. But fuck, you know- shit happens. I fought, and us A.E girls- I know we’re gonna slay.”
Lipstick Message: “A.E girls forever, baby! Good luck, and dominate.”
~
The racers enter the werkroom.
“A.E girls forever, baby.” Jaslene puts her hand on her chest, wiping the mirror.
“What a gag.” Zazu exhales.
“Literally, I am NEVER not cooking before a challenge reveal again.” Yasmin laughs, sitting down.
“..That was an intense time.” Omari purses his lips.
“Intense is an understatement.” Granny laughs.
“You know, the energy was hard- this was challenging.” Zazu puts her heart on her chest. “But I think we need to move forward.”
Aguacate: “I mean, we all KNOW I’ve been fantastic. But whatever, let us move forward, cut the fat a bit.”
“I feel ready for this next challenge already, because it’s an opportunity to prove ourselves.” Haja says. “I’m planning on winning.”
Hideyoshi rolls his eyes.
Toyotomi Hideyoshi: “I’m PLANNING to win too!”
“I know…” Crayola looks at the others. “Last week was a struggle. But we 10 are here, we are strong, powerful artists- and I am thankful to be working with you all.”
“Working together is great, but I’d love a challenge solo, truly.” Fiore puts her hand around Jaslene. “Love you girl, but a moment for me to focus on myself would be nice.”
“Agreed.” Omari adds.
“Let’s sit in this moment, and celebrate.” Granny takes a half drunk glass. “To whatever comes next!”
The other races begrudgingly cheer.
Haja Hubiani: “I know last week I did good, but I didn’t do GREAT. We’re all here to prove ourselves, but some are showcasing more then others. That has to change.”
“Two wins, my gosh…” Granny smiles at Omari.
Haja Hubiani: “I’m here to prove to the world my style of drag- planned, efficient, high drag… and those who exist? They’ll be damned. Just wait and see…”
Hideyoshi cackles with Aguacate.
Haja Hubiani: “I am here to win.”
~
The Next Day, Yasmin starts handing out plates.
“Hold on, take a plate.” Yasmin smiles.
Yasmin Raiz: “Last time I didn’t cook, I was in the bottom. Oh, no. We’re NEEEEVER taking another chance again!”
“What’s on today’s menu?” Omari raises an eyebrow.
“Veggie Sushi!” Yasmin winks. “With Jasmine Rice.”
“It’s you!” Granny chuckles.
“It is.” Yasmin laughs.
“...Wait, what?” Zazu asks, confused.
“...Jasmine Rice, my name?” Yasmin looks at Zazu.
Zazu gasps.
“Oh, I didn’t realise that either.” Crayola chuckles.
“Neither did I…” Jaslene puts her hand up.
“Same.” Hideyoshi laughs.
Yasmin cackles.
You’ve got drag mail!
Granny drops the bowl of rice.
“DARLING, NOW YOU ARE IN DANGER!” Yasmin yells.
Granny chuckles.
Detox. Relax. It’s time. Home time!
“Home time?” Haja raises an eyebrow.
It’s Drag Time!
Hello, racers.
It’s time to pack up. These last few weeks have been intense. We’re going to separate, detox, rest and relax before you all interact again.
Everyone laughs, whilst looking confused.
For this week’s maxi challenge, I am SHIPPING you back on a two-way ticket home- and here again. You’re going home to present yourselves in the form of a photoshoot, baby!
Jaslene Bangus: “I’ve always been a supermodel. And now, you give me a shoot?” Jaslene smirks. “Slay.”
I want to see your home country, and YOUR DRAG BRAND best represented in the form of a shoot. You have… 30 minutes on the bus to start preparing for the journey home. Good luck… and don’t FUCK IT UP!
Everyone frantically starts running, as Hideyoshi sits.
…It’s go time, Hideyoshi.
“I’m… not planning.” Hideyoshi looks at Chronologica. “I have my idea already.”
Chronologica raises an eyebrow.
Toyotomi Hideyoshi: “It’s done me well this time. I know it will again.”
Good luck…
Chronologica looks at Hideyoshi, as he slinks into his seat.
~
The racers sit around their bus, looking at each other as they start talking, some planning, some chatting.
“Okay, okay…” Aguacate grins. “My drags. What are we doing? Where are we all going?!”
“I’ve already picked up the phone and made some calls.” Jaslene smirks. “Me and my sisters, powerful trans women in my favourite club in Manila, Stargirl.” Jaslene nods. “I am here to showcase women- power, beautiful and the girls I love.”
Aguacate: “Have other girls steal your focus?!” Aguacate laughs.
“I feel the same.” Granny nods. “I’m going to be taking photos with my kids.” Granny smiles.
Aguacate: “This isn’t your drag brand, my dear.”
“Oh, that’s fun…” Aguacate purses her lips. “How does it mean your drag?”
“For me, it’s about representing me. My family- that is a part, and that, in that… I see the drag.” Granny grins.
Aguacate: “Bad choice, mami…” Aguacate laughs. “Granny, you in DAAAAANGER…” Aguacate looks into the camera. “She may be doing good well, but she’s still a baby Queen, my viewer.”
“I am also doing this.” Crayola adds. “My classroom is my safe haven. I’m going to be reflecting that, in my local classroom.”
Aguacate: “Oh darling, boring!”
“I’m from Venice.” Fiore smiles. “To me, being on a gondola- high drag, couture, Italian theatre… that is me.”
Aguacate: “How original, being beautiful on the river of a- Oh wait, I kinda like that idea.”
“I am a little scared, myself.” Yasmin says. “I’m going to step before the Parliament building in drag.”
“...Drag is illegal, isn’t it?” Crayola looks at Yasmin with concern.
“It is. But it’s meaningful.” Yasmin nods.
Yasmin Raiz: “I want to show me. I am a comedian, but I believe too- my drag is revolutionary.”
Aguacate: “Imagine a prison disqualification?” Aguacate giggles.
“Nature is core to me.” Omari looks around. “I believe myself to be a King of Africa. A Chieftain, and I’m going to go to the Maasai Mara National Reserve. Open space, a natural landscape, Giraffes, Elephants, Lions… and me, the King of the Jungle.”
Aguacate: “He may get attacked. Imagine a MAWED disqualification!” Aguacate laughs. “I’m on fire, like…”
“Khwera Salt Mine.” Haja raises her notepad.
Haja Hubiani: “This is a challenge to showcase my styling skills. I’ve looked at the concept, I’ve looked at the idea… This is MY moment.” Haja clutches her chest.
Aguacate: “I don’t know where that is.”
“McQueen is core to my brand, and I have also planned!” Zazu raises her notepad as Aguacate eyes her. “The McQueen storefront in South Africa.”
“Oooh…” Aguacate purses her lips.
Aguacate: “Girl.” Aguacate giggles.
“And Hideyoshi?” Aguacate raises an eyebrow.
“Not sure yet.” Hideyoshi laughs. “Probably on a traditional stage. That’s where I shine.”
“I’m not going to speak…” Haja whispers under her breath.
“Well, I’M going to Teotihuacán to show my ancient heritage, baby!” Aguacate yells.
“Well…” Granny looks at everyone. “Good luck, all…”
“And don’t fuck it up.” Haja winks.
~
In Mexico…
Aguacate stands before Teotihuacán, dressed as a sun god.
“Today, I am here, representing my NATIVE ROOTS.” Aguacate raises her hands. “I am A GOD!”
The ancient landmark is silent as Aguacate’s voice booms.
“This is me. I believe myself to be a legend.” Aguacate leans against the structure. “ASSISTANT? I NEED A STAFF?”
Aguacate walks to her left and picks up the staff.
“Most of the time, my drag is more camp, but today, I will take an opposing approach. Instead, it is MEXICAN. That is core to it, regardless. So, EMBRACE IT!” Aguacate yells.
“Okay, I want to showcase and act as if I am about to sacrifice someone.” Aguacate looks into the camera. “We did human sacrifice, you know.”
~
Crayola Boxx waves. “Hello!”
Crayola adjusts a picture of herself out of drag as she sits on the desk.
“This is my classroom. It’s not a traditional New Zealand Landmark, but I believe it is MY New Zealand Landmark.” Crayola grins.
Crayola spins around, dressed in a multicoloured look with tons of tassels.
“I’ve been teaching for nearly…” Crayola ponders. “10 years?”
Crayola gulps, before smiling.
“I am old.” Crayola chuckles. “But it is my creative hub. There’s two kinds of Crayola- me in drag, and me out of it.”
Crayola looks into the camera. “Now you get to see both.”
~
Fiore flicks back her hair.
“Hello, darlings.” Fiore smiles. “Welcome to Venice.”
The camera zooms out, booming as Fiore rides a gondola in the middle of the canal based city.
Fiore adjusts her long couture gown that nearly covers the entire boat.
“Whilst I am no longer the girl I once was- living here, my heart began here.” Fiore closes her eyes. “This wet city holds secrets.”
The gondola continues to flow through the small canals.
“Living here, you get used to your sea legs.” Fiore smirks. “I know how to stand on a boat, even in a couture gown in heels.”
The gondola rider gasps as he nearly hits another gondola, and Fiore holds a tight grip on it.
“See?” Fiore smirks.
~
“My grandchildren!” Granny waves.
The kids behind Granny look confused.
“Está tudo bem, crianças! Este é o show da vovó!” Granny yells.
The kids look at Granny with confusion, before hugging her.
“They haven’t seen me in drag before.” Granny says, with a smile.
Suddenly, one of the children start to cry.
“Martin, my dear Martin..” Granny picks them up.
The child continues to cry.
“Well, I think we need to get started.” Granny shrugs. “It’s authentic!”
Granny winks into the camera.
~
Haja waves in a booming undercover mine.
“Welcome to PAKISTAN!” Haja yells.
Haja holds onto a pickaxe and smiles, wearing a multi-layered look with a grin.
“I love to have my drag be beautiful, stylish. I also think at times it can be rough.”
Haja shrugs.
“What can I say, I love to shine.”
Haja touches a crystalline body of water.
“In my heart, I am a diamond under pressure. This is a historic monument… and I am the jewel.” Haja grins.
Haja holds up a crystal gem.
“For me, you will see me shine. This is the only option.” Haja grins.
~
“GIRLS!” Jaslene waves into the camera, as three other women wave.
“Hi.” Jaslene smirks.
Jaslene adjusts her tight little black dress.
“I have been through many things. I’ve made myself, this body, this skill from the ground up, baby.” Jaslene smirks.
Jaslene’s sisters hold onto her with a smile.
“These girls are the same. I may be the star… for now.” Jaslene smirks. “But we are the Philippines. We are proud, we are gorgeous, and we stand before you in this stage, one of my favourite venues in the world…”
Jaslene exhales.
“And I have never felt more ready to snap that shot.” Jaslene smirks.
“Take the camera out!”
~
“Welcome to the birth of civilization.” Omari smiles, breathing in the air.
A gust of wind is heard, and Omari looks into the camera.
“It’s a stampede.” Omari looks shocked, before he smirks. “Let’s run. I want pictures in action.”
Omari starts running, as the camera gets shaky.
“I BELIEVE I LIVE IN THE MOST BEAUTIFUL LAND IN THE WORLD!”
An elephant rushes past Omari.
“FOR ME, THE NATURAL ELEMENTS, THE WAY OF LIFE, THE-” Omari chuckles as he runs, the sound of hooves building and building.
“THE ANIMALS!” Omari yells. “AND I KNOW THIS. I THINK OF MYSELF AS THE KING OF SAVANNAH.”
A giraffe runs past and knocks over the camera causing it to break. Omari picks it up dramatically.
“And a survivor. No matter what.” Omari stops, eying the other animals now gone.
“For me, this is a challenge to showcase the Chief. I feel riveted. Here to win. And I hope you enjoy my world.” Omari smirks.
~
Hideyoshi laughs.
“I’m on stage!” Hideyoshi grins, looking into the camera.
“This is a local Kabuki theatre.” Hideyoshi nods. “I feel as if…” Hideyoshi stops himself.
Hideyoshi looks up, looks down… and grins.
“YES!” Hideyoshi nods. “Follow me.”
Hideyoshi walks through the theatre.
“So many doors.” Hideyoshi laughs.
Hideyoshi enters the a backstage portion of the theatre.
“Let’s do it here.” Hideyoshi nods. “WAIT!”
Hideyoshi grabs a mask and grins.
“For me, my drag, my joy is fun. And my brain doesn’t work like everyone else, I know. That’s what I THINK is my superpower.” Hideyoshi grins. “Let’s snap.”
Hideyoshi stops as the camera takes a photo at a flawed angle.
“WAIT, I HAVE ANOTHER IDEA!”
~
Yasmin looks slightly nervous before the camera, before nodding.
“This is hypealicious… this is exciting…” Yasmin stands before parliament house, late, late at night.
Yasmin looks around.
“The city is still lit.” Yasmin nods. “It is… beautiful.”
Yasmin exhales.
“I live here proudly. But, the laws, the existence I have is not the same as many. I struggle, living in a society where I can’t be me.”
Yasmin sighs.
“But the reality is, this is my home.” Yasmin looks proudly. “And I believe it will be important to showcase myself.”
Yasmin sits before the steps.
“I want to show anyone who lives here, in this country- we exist, we are proud, and we do the best damn drag in the world!” Yasmin throws her hands in the air.
“Let’s do it.”
~
Zazu looks excitedly.
“AHH!” Zazu cheers.
Zazu stands in front of a ‘McQueen’ store.
“I have a story.” Zazu laughs.
Zazu giggles.
“I watched the movie CARS, and I was a huge fan. Lightning McQueen was a favourite of mine.”
Zazu winks, wearing a real couture McQueen outfit.
“I loved fashion, and McQueen was one of my faves. And I saw the movie and like, LOVED IT.”
Zazu nods.
“So, I obviously thought Lightning McQueen and Alexander McQueen were related. They aren't. SHOCKING, right?” Zazu gasps.
“In my fantasy they are one in the same!” Zazu laughs. “I love being a bit silly. I love fashion. You get a bit of both.”
Zazu giggles. “Okay, let’s do it!”
~
Each of the racers look at the camera as a producer yells.
“You’re going back onto a plane, straight onto the runway for the challenge.”
“OH MY GASPGOSHITICOUS?!” Yasmin yells.
“Bring it.” Omari smirks.
“Oooh…” Haja grins.
“THIS IS SO FUN!” Zazu laughs.
“I’m old.” Granny chuckles. “Can’t we go a little slower?!”
“Fun.” Hideyoshi smiles.
“This was supposed to be a break.” Crayola laughs.
“Fierce.” Fiore chuckles.
“I love you, girls.” Jaslene blows a kiss.
Aguacate cheers. “LET US DO IT!”
~
Stats
Voting
Spreadsheet
2023.05.27 23:31 jotatay123 Bird Pizzeria is top tier in CLT
 | This is in no way a self promotion nor do I work there. I’m just a guy who loves his pizza. submitted by jotatay123 to Charlotte [link] [comments] In saying that, I once had the pleasure in having pizza from the world famous Regina Pizzeria in little Italy, Boston. That pie changed my life and perspective of what some of the best pizza in the country tastes like. Since then, I have been searching FOR YEARS for a pizza spot like that in Charlotte and I think my search is finally over. BIRD PIZZERIA. Some things just make sense at the best pizza places, that only the real ones know, a spot you have to try. Small menu, funky hours, cool people working and best of all, it’s locally owned! Now do yourself a favor and go get you some top tier charlotte pie! Thank me later. |
2023.05.27 21:47 RIPSargeras Exploring my past life
First I must preference this by saying it was a few years ago but I still remember it just as vividly, I think I’ve been too scared to go back.
I started my meditation on simply the present, focusing on every little detail in front of me, every sound, and every feeling, I then went to a recent memory and did the same. Next was from my childhood, most of which I don’t remember but I was playing with some other kids on the porch of a mobile home, I remembered not knowing whose house it was, I only knew two of the other kids, and these two memories I simply observed. Then it was time for me to see my pathway and meet my spirit guide.
It was a windy, thin, high rocky path, bright green grass covering the steep sides, unsure footing would surely lead to a great fall, yet my feet were stable. The fog was so strong I could only see maybe ten feet ahead of me, but I was illuminating the way forward, for I was glowing. I should’ve felt cold but I was warm, cozy even. I just kept walking forward, trying to keep steady footing though it was effortless till I could find my spirit guide. Eventually I see a cat on the path, it’s been two years since he had passed, yet there he was. I cried as I held him, we stayed till I was ready to keep going. Eventually we did, kept on walking till we reached another light, emanating just as brightly as the one from myself, he looked towards me and I knew exactly what he was saying, reach into it.
I then awoke in a town, it looked like Italy based on the architecture, what should have been a bustling street was empty. Though I could see and feel every detail on the stonework of the street and buildings, the storefronts were empty, all the windows blacked out. I tried to make out my reflection, I could see a vague shape of myself and that same glow but not make out any features, regardless I felt very pretty and could tell I was in my early twenties. I then walked towards the canal, looked in at first trying to get a better glimpse of my reflection, and though I did not I felt a great deal of sadness in the water, almost as if something was haunting it. I wandered the beautiful empty city for a bit longer, not searching for anything in particular, just exploring.
Then it was time for me to ask my spirit guide to show me my most impactful memory from this life. Red convertible sports car, not sure the exact make and model, clearly Italian, and 1980s. We were racing down roads, green pastures outside of us, I could tell the radio was on, I could feel music but not hear it. Going down a hill, I stood up with my arms in the air screaming, I’ve never felt so free. Once I sat back down I looked at the driver, and whoever this was I felt a love so deep, yet just like myself they had appeared blurry but not indescribable, I definitely felt a masculine aura coming off of them, and the same glow I saw in myself. Suddenly a crash, I somehow was unscathed, I look over to my partner and he’s dead, there was a large truck, like a semi, we crashed right into it.
At this point I was starting to slip out of meditation so I asked to see how I died. There I was back at that same street from before but now looking up at it, I could see people walking by and some looking down, the exact spot where I once stood. I was sinking, I tried my hardest to swim up, to save myself, In this moment I forgot that this wasn’t my life anymore but my body would not listen and I kept sinking down. I realized that for one, I had already died, there’s no changing that, two I had chosen this fate, that this past version of myself wanted to end it right here, and three, that this was the haunting I felt looking into this same water, my fate, though slightly beyond me was known from the very beginning. I was at peace as I watched the beautiful city above me, knowing that this never was the end, and then I awoke, not from sleeping but from deep meditation and caught my breath. I was sad though, I didn’t get to say bye to my kitty, maybe I’ll go back soon.
I’ve thought about this a lot since then, how it explains things about my current life. My anxiety when anyone else is driving, especially fast and recklessly. As a child I was always strict on everyone wearing seatbelts. My love of 1960s fashion and trends, maybe nostalgia for another childhood. My deep spiritual connection to water and the ocean. My issues with gender dysphoria. And my issues with codependency, feeling like I need to protect my partner at all costs.
submitted by RIPSargeras to pastlives [link] [comments]
I started my meditation on simply the present, focusing on every little detail in front of me, every sound, and every feeling, I then went to a recent memory and did the same. Next was from my childhood, most of which I don’t remember but I was playing with some other kids on the porch of a mobile home, I remembered not knowing whose house it was, I only knew two of the other kids, and these two memories I simply observed. Then it was time for me to see my pathway and meet my spirit guide.
It was a windy, thin, high rocky path, bright green grass covering the steep sides, unsure footing would surely lead to a great fall, yet my feet were stable. The fog was so strong I could only see maybe ten feet ahead of me, but I was illuminating the way forward, for I was glowing. I should’ve felt cold but I was warm, cozy even. I just kept walking forward, trying to keep steady footing though it was effortless till I could find my spirit guide. Eventually I see a cat on the path, it’s been two years since he had passed, yet there he was. I cried as I held him, we stayed till I was ready to keep going. Eventually we did, kept on walking till we reached another light, emanating just as brightly as the one from myself, he looked towards me and I knew exactly what he was saying, reach into it.
I then awoke in a town, it looked like Italy based on the architecture, what should have been a bustling street was empty. Though I could see and feel every detail on the stonework of the street and buildings, the storefronts were empty, all the windows blacked out. I tried to make out my reflection, I could see a vague shape of myself and that same glow but not make out any features, regardless I felt very pretty and could tell I was in my early twenties. I then walked towards the canal, looked in at first trying to get a better glimpse of my reflection, and though I did not I felt a great deal of sadness in the water, almost as if something was haunting it. I wandered the beautiful empty city for a bit longer, not searching for anything in particular, just exploring.
Then it was time for me to ask my spirit guide to show me my most impactful memory from this life. Red convertible sports car, not sure the exact make and model, clearly Italian, and 1980s. We were racing down roads, green pastures outside of us, I could tell the radio was on, I could feel music but not hear it. Going down a hill, I stood up with my arms in the air screaming, I’ve never felt so free. Once I sat back down I looked at the driver, and whoever this was I felt a love so deep, yet just like myself they had appeared blurry but not indescribable, I definitely felt a masculine aura coming off of them, and the same glow I saw in myself. Suddenly a crash, I somehow was unscathed, I look over to my partner and he’s dead, there was a large truck, like a semi, we crashed right into it.
At this point I was starting to slip out of meditation so I asked to see how I died. There I was back at that same street from before but now looking up at it, I could see people walking by and some looking down, the exact spot where I once stood. I was sinking, I tried my hardest to swim up, to save myself, In this moment I forgot that this wasn’t my life anymore but my body would not listen and I kept sinking down. I realized that for one, I had already died, there’s no changing that, two I had chosen this fate, that this past version of myself wanted to end it right here, and three, that this was the haunting I felt looking into this same water, my fate, though slightly beyond me was known from the very beginning. I was at peace as I watched the beautiful city above me, knowing that this never was the end, and then I awoke, not from sleeping but from deep meditation and caught my breath. I was sad though, I didn’t get to say bye to my kitty, maybe I’ll go back soon.
I’ve thought about this a lot since then, how it explains things about my current life. My anxiety when anyone else is driving, especially fast and recklessly. As a child I was always strict on everyone wearing seatbelts. My love of 1960s fashion and trends, maybe nostalgia for another childhood. My deep spiritual connection to water and the ocean. My issues with gender dysphoria. And my issues with codependency, feeling like I need to protect my partner at all costs.
2023.05.27 21:06 wpgan [CLAIM] Duchy of Bologna
Playing in France was fun, and I like the French players, but I happened to claim right on the downswing of five years of war. I’d prefer a little more action — and where else to go for action but the absolute clusterfuck that is Italy. I don’t plan on making a habit of claimswapping, and hopefully being dunked right into the Italian action is good practice for next season as well.
For Valentinois, the only thing that needs doing for the future are babyrolls for Claude de Lorraine and Louise Borgia; they have a daughter that’ll die in infancy, but that’s about it. Additionally, should Louis d’Armagnac not have any heirs, Claude would likely press his claim to the Duchy of Guise in the Parlement de Paris, much like in OTL.
Now, to Bologna.
Since 1509, Bologna has been ruled as a hereditary fief under the House of Bentivoglio. Following the death of Duke Giovanni II Bentivoglio in 1508, it has been his eldest son, Duke Annibale II Bentivoglio, who has ruled the city.
The Bentivoglio family is exceptionally well connected — especially across northern Italy:
Within the Duchy of Bologna itself, though the Bentivoglios are now Dukes, and don’t have to answer to any facsimile of “popular rule,” the prominent families of Bologna still have considerable influence in the city and the countryside alike. The Ariosti, Bandini, de’ Bianchi, Boncompagni, Boschetti, Caccianemici, Casali, Ghislieri, Gozzadini, Grassi, Hercolani, Isolani, Ludovisi, Malvezzi, Orsi, Pepoli, and Ranuzzi families are the primary influential groups within the city at the moment — holding valuable merchant contracts, small villas and estates in the countryside, and political influence despite the lack of formal positions available in the Duchy.
In terms of Bologna’s recent history, Bologna under Giovanni II Bentivoglio sided with the Borgias in the early stages of the Italian wars — and received their Ducal status from Pope Martin VI, a Borgia-aligned Pope. Needless to say, that led to some awkwardness under the Papacy of the decidedly anti-Borgia Julius II — but Bologna didn’t raise her banners to defend Borgia, and so managed to keep their heads low enough to avoid anti-Borgia reprisals. Under Pope Leo X, Bologna has a vaguely positive relationship with Rome; helping out d’Este and continuing to pay their papal tithes like good vassals. Economically, the Bentovoglios constructed some grand stables, a salt mine, and a brewery in 1505, further developed Bologna’s vineyards, olive orchards, stables, and breweries in 1508, cooperated with the Orsini family in expanding the salt and marble mines in 1508/09, opened trade posts in Florence, Modena, and Ferrara, invested in vineyards in Ferrara, and invested in stables and a brewery in Florence in 1509, and allowed the Medici bank to reestablish operations in Bologna in 1510.
In terms of Bologna more generally, outside of the restored Medici bank, the financial sector is dominated by Jewish lenders — such as the Sforno family, who have fled persecution in other countries across Europe — and the Monte di Pietà di Bologna, which offers lower interest rates for poorer debtors. These three institutions of the Medici, the Jewish banks, and the Monte di Pietà compete within the banking sector — though in the interest of currying favor with the Medici Pope Leo X, the Medicis have been at an advantage in recent years.
In terms of civil structure, the oligarchic civil institutions of the Republic — the Council of 600, the 16-member Sedici Riformatori dello Stato di Libertà (Sixteen Reformers of the Free State, chosen from the Council of 600), the anziani e consoli (elders and consuls; senior advisers), the Gonfaloniere di Giustizia (Gonfalonier of Justice, “chosen” by the Sedici), the Tribuni della Plebe (Tribune of the Plebs) — have been done away with by the creation of the Duchy of Bologna, with prominent families instead vying for Bentivoglio favor to be placed in high positions. The guilds — from the four greatest guilds (notaries, bankers, haberdashers, and silk merchants) to the commerce guilds (gold smiths, spice merchants, etc.) to the manual laborers (shoemakers, furriers, tailors, dyers, etc.), in order of prestige — remain a prominent economic force, but have decidedly less political influence under the Duchy.
In terms of culture, the Bolognese Studium remains one of Bologna’s primary contributions to culture and the world at large. The Studium is famed for its teaching of canon and civil law, though doctorates in theology, medici, and philosophy are also granted. and is home to students from across Europe, serving as a multicultural hub — and, interestingly, as a center for an early form of collective bargaining amongst the international students.
I plan to Italy-post (enter into obscene alliances and perhaps backstab or be backstabbed) and be a gremlin for marriages, since I have a truly obscene number of biddies and sons to marry off. With God’s blessing I’ll expand my land as well, but if not I’ll just make Bologna even richer by spending a lot of florins on building misc. holdings.
submitted by wpgan to empirepowers [link] [comments]
For Valentinois, the only thing that needs doing for the future are babyrolls for Claude de Lorraine and Louise Borgia; they have a daughter that’ll die in infancy, but that’s about it. Additionally, should Louis d’Armagnac not have any heirs, Claude would likely press his claim to the Duchy of Guise in the Parlement de Paris, much like in OTL.
Now, to Bologna.
The Bentivoglio family is exceptionally well connected — especially across northern Italy:
- Bianca Bentivoglio, his eldest sister, was married to Niccolò Maria Rangoni, Lord of Spilamberto. Their children rule as co-Lords of Spilamberto, and are notable condottieri in frequent service to the d’Estes and the Bentivoglios alike. Bianca’s children include the co-Lords and condottieri Ludovico Rangoni, Guido II Rangoni, Annibale Rangoni, Francesco Rangoni, and Alessandro Rangoni, as well as the aspiring protonotary apostolic — as well as waiter and close confidant to Pope Leo X — Ercole Rangoni. From Bianca’s line comes close connection to Spilamberto and their ruling Rangoni family, as well as the d’Estes by association.
- Francesca Bentivoglio, his since deceased elder sister, was married first to Galeotto Manfredi, Lord of Faenza. Their marriage was not a good one, but did produce Astorre III Manfredi, Lord of Faenza, the notably well-loved Lord who was forced to surrender to Cesare’s forces and accompany him on his campaigns. Her second marriage was to Guido II Torelli, another notable condottiero, with whom Francesca had Ippolita Torelli. Ippolita married Baldassarre Castiglione, Lord of Casatico and notable scholar, which whom she has three children. From Francesca’s line comes close connection to the nearby city of Faenza and their ruling Manfredi family, as well as connections to Casatico — a small town located in the lands of the Marquesses of Mantua. [m: I don’t think Astorre would’ve died ITTL; looking at Fenrir’s early posts, Astorre was never captured — just taken along in the war camp like a squire/aspiring condottiero]
- Annibale II Bentivoglio, Duke of Bologna, is himself married to Lucrezia d’Este, natural daughter of the late Ercole d’Este. Lucrezia dies in 1518, leaving Annibale a widower, but the two have had many children — seven sons and six daughters. Notable among their number are Costanzo Bentivoglio, his eldest son and heir to Bologna, Ercole Bentivoglio, a scholar and writer, Alfonso Bentivoglio, aspiring Condottiero, and Camilla Bentivoglio, Lady of Bozzolo through her marriage to Pirro Gonzaga, Lord of Bozzolo, second son to the second son of the late Ludovico III Gonzaga, Marquis of Mantua. Annibale’s line is the one that will rule Bologna into the future — and through his daughter’s marriage to a minor scion of the House of Gonzaga, the Bentivoglios are tied to Mantua.
- Eleonara Bentivoglio, a younger sister to Annibale, was married to Gilberto I Pio di Savoia, Lord of Sassulo. Gilberto was a contender for the Lordship of Carpi — but lost out to his cousin, Albert III, instead receiving the Lordship of Sassulo, Brandola, Fiorano, Corlo, Magreta, and Montegibbio, making him a prominent vassal to the d’Este family. Gilberto has since passed — as has his eldest son, Alessandro, who’d married Angela Borgia, leaving Eleonara’s grandson Gilberto II Pio di Savoia as Lord of Sassulo. Eleonara sits as Lady Regent of Sassulo in the young boy’s regency. Through Eleonara, the Bentivoglio family is further connected to the d’Este family through their vassals — exerting influence in Sassulo, a border town between the Duchy of Modena and the Duchy of Bologna.
- Antongaleazzo Bentivoglio, a younger brother to Annibale, entered a career in the Church — currently sitting as a protonotary apostolic, and Archdeacon of Bologna. Through his status as Archdeacon, Antongaleazzo has influence in the diocese of Bologna. Antongaleazzo remains the most prominent member of the Church in the immediate Bentivoglio family, and acts as an important voice of the family in ecclesiastical matters.
- Violante Bentivoglio, another younger sister to Annibale, is married to Pandolfo IV Malatesta, Lord of Rimini. With Pandolfo, Violante has seven children — five sons and two daughters, theoretically forming the future of the Malatesta di Rimini branch. However, Violante and Pandolfo IV are currently exiled from Rimini after Pandolfo’s cousin, the famed Ramberto Ulisse Bonatesta, seized control of the city. Bonatesta remains in good standing with the Church and with the Italian states more broadly, acting as Vicar of Ravenna and Vicar of Rimini, and so Pandolfo IV and his Bentivoglio wife remain in exile. However, Violante does present a notable connection to Rimini that can be exploited, perhaps at some point in the future, even if Bonatesta’s position is nigh-on unassailable; certainly, Annibale isn’t stupid enough to wish to encounter Bonatesta in the field.
- Alessandro Bentivoglio, another younger brother to Annibale, is married to Ippolita Sforza — and through his marriage to Ippolita, remains the titular Lord of Casteggio, a city within the Duchy of Milan. However, with the Sforzas still in exile and the French having a strong position in Milan, Alessandro is by no means actually Lord of Casteggio, merely claiming the title. Alessandro offers a tentative connection to Milan through his marriage to a Sforza daughter, even if she is the daughter of a bastard son of a previous Duke of Milan.
- Ermes Bentivoglio, Annibale’s youngest brother, is married to Iacopa Orsini — daughter of Giulio Orsini, a condottiero. Their union hasn’t born any children just yet — but Ermes’s ties to the Orsini family, an ascendant family with influence in Rome, offers interesting connections to Rome and the Orsini family holdings in northern Italy as well.
- The last of the siblings, Laura Bentivoglio is perhaps one of the most influential at this time. Laura is married to Giovanni Gonzaga, Lord of Vescovato. Giovanni is a younger son of Federico I Gonzaga, Marquis of Mantua, and is younger brother to Federico II Gonzaga, who is now in some hot water with the Papacy. Giovanni has formed his own cadet branch of the House of Gonzaga — the Gonzaga di Vescovato family, based out of the town of Vescovato just northeast of Cremona within the Duchy of Mantua. Laura offers the most direct tie to Mantua, through the now-relevant second son of the previous Marquis of Mantua — and the next in the line of succession to the Duchy of Mantua, should Federico II and his line be otherwise unable to rule.
Within the Duchy of Bologna itself, though the Bentivoglios are now Dukes, and don’t have to answer to any facsimile of “popular rule,” the prominent families of Bologna still have considerable influence in the city and the countryside alike. The Ariosti, Bandini, de’ Bianchi, Boncompagni, Boschetti, Caccianemici, Casali, Ghislieri, Gozzadini, Grassi, Hercolani, Isolani, Ludovisi, Malvezzi, Orsi, Pepoli, and Ranuzzi families are the primary influential groups within the city at the moment — holding valuable merchant contracts, small villas and estates in the countryside, and political influence despite the lack of formal positions available in the Duchy.
In terms of Bologna’s recent history, Bologna under Giovanni II Bentivoglio sided with the Borgias in the early stages of the Italian wars — and received their Ducal status from Pope Martin VI, a Borgia-aligned Pope. Needless to say, that led to some awkwardness under the Papacy of the decidedly anti-Borgia Julius II — but Bologna didn’t raise her banners to defend Borgia, and so managed to keep their heads low enough to avoid anti-Borgia reprisals. Under Pope Leo X, Bologna has a vaguely positive relationship with Rome; helping out d’Este and continuing to pay their papal tithes like good vassals. Economically, the Bentovoglios constructed some grand stables, a salt mine, and a brewery in 1505, further developed Bologna’s vineyards, olive orchards, stables, and breweries in 1508, cooperated with the Orsini family in expanding the salt and marble mines in 1508/09, opened trade posts in Florence, Modena, and Ferrara, invested in vineyards in Ferrara, and invested in stables and a brewery in Florence in 1509, and allowed the Medici bank to reestablish operations in Bologna in 1510.
In terms of Bologna more generally, outside of the restored Medici bank, the financial sector is dominated by Jewish lenders — such as the Sforno family, who have fled persecution in other countries across Europe — and the Monte di Pietà di Bologna, which offers lower interest rates for poorer debtors. These three institutions of the Medici, the Jewish banks, and the Monte di Pietà compete within the banking sector — though in the interest of currying favor with the Medici Pope Leo X, the Medicis have been at an advantage in recent years.
In terms of civil structure, the oligarchic civil institutions of the Republic — the Council of 600, the 16-member Sedici Riformatori dello Stato di Libertà (Sixteen Reformers of the Free State, chosen from the Council of 600), the anziani e consoli (elders and consuls; senior advisers), the Gonfaloniere di Giustizia (Gonfalonier of Justice, “chosen” by the Sedici), the Tribuni della Plebe (Tribune of the Plebs) — have been done away with by the creation of the Duchy of Bologna, with prominent families instead vying for Bentivoglio favor to be placed in high positions. The guilds — from the four greatest guilds (notaries, bankers, haberdashers, and silk merchants) to the commerce guilds (gold smiths, spice merchants, etc.) to the manual laborers (shoemakers, furriers, tailors, dyers, etc.), in order of prestige — remain a prominent economic force, but have decidedly less political influence under the Duchy.
In terms of culture, the Bolognese Studium remains one of Bologna’s primary contributions to culture and the world at large. The Studium is famed for its teaching of canon and civil law, though doctorates in theology, medici, and philosophy are also granted. and is home to students from across Europe, serving as a multicultural hub — and, interestingly, as a center for an early form of collective bargaining amongst the international students.
2023.05.27 20:54 John_Doe12333 Restaurants
My girlfriend and I are coming to Italy in July and want to eat AUTHENTIC Italian food. Where are the best restaurants for Italian food? If you live in Rome, what are your favorite restaurants? We desperately want to avoid the tourist traps! Thank you in advance!
submitted by John_Doe12333 to rome [link] [comments]
2023.05.27 20:31 FarmWhich4275 Everyone Loves Uncle Bernie
The tension hung heavy in the air as it was finally realized that peace talks were collapsing and war was inevitable. Tyraxis, Hive Prince of Corsica faction had gathered here for a modicum of peace hoping to avoid the losses of his men. He sat in his chair opposite his former brethren with his two Praetorians flanking him, plasma spears at ready. His human diplomat, Johnny was desperately trying to ease tensions. Arborean, the Crown Prince of Hive Arrakkis sat proud at his seat, his purple skin glistening in the light of the room.
Arborean was so certain of his victory he had the barefaced audacity to carry his human concubine with him. His human diplomat Martinez was unamused by tensions as he cast passing glances to the Praetorians flanking his employer. Arborean made sure to prominently display his most prized possession with the woman sitting on his lap.
"Surely we can find a way around this? There has to be a way to sue for peace. At least for this battle. Perhaps we can exclude some ships from the roster and at least make it an even fight?" Johnny could sense he was getting nowhere, but he still had a few angles.
"Sure... we can sue for peace. AFTER you hand over the system! Those Gehennan spice mines are ours and you damn well know it!" Martinez slammed his hand on the table.
"You and I both know that if that fleet goes to battle it would be an absolute slaughter! If your master was half the warrior he so claims he is, he would agree to roster the battle to make it fair!" Johnny blasted his opponent.
Arborean whispered into his diplomats ear. The shame tactic and personal attack worked. "A point made in anger but still a point. We will agree to the standard galactic Ship Points Allocation system. However... No holds barred. Last man standing rules only." Martinez said with a certain sinister grin.
Tyraxis hung his head in shame. The Queen would have his head after this one way or another for this, but at least it would give his men a fighting chance. He gave a nod to Johnny and sent him a note on his wearable data manager. "Fine. If we win, you will not come back to this system. The point was proven, tactics ruled the day. If we win, you leave and don't come back!"
Arborean thought for a moment then nodded his head. "Deal." Martinez said, extending a hand out.
Martinez and Johnny shook hands and started drawing up paperwork as Arborean began to greedily fondle his prized possession, much to the blistering rage of Tyraxis burning eyes. Suddenly the door flung itself open, a human marine barged through the door.
"UNCLE BERNIE'S HERE!!!!" He yelled with unimaginable excitement, and charged back out again.
"Uncle Bernie!?" All three of the humans said this at once, and all three, suddenly got up from where they stood and bolted to the exit with such speed it made everyone's heads spin.
A few moments of awkward and stunned silence followed this occurrence. "What the hell is an uncle Bernie?" Arborean asked, as if expecting an answer.
"Well... Uncle is a human term, it means the brother of my father. Bernie is I believe someone's name." On of Tyraxis' Praetorians said.
The two princes regarded each other for a moment longer before one of Tyraxis' Praetorians broke the silence as his communicator beeped. "My Prince... every human ship in the system has disengaged!"
"WHAT!?" Both Princes yelled out in unison.
"Warp signature detected! There is a battlecruiser class vessel entering the system!" Arboreans Praetorian warned.
"What treachery are you planning Thraxis?!" Arborean lashed out.
"What are you talking about? This is YOUR doing! How much did you bribe my ambassador hm?"
Just then, an interruption. Every communications unit on the station suddenly came to life. It was some kind of... song? Silly, whimsical. Catchy.
"Are ya lost in space?
Need pie in your face?
Come on down to Bernies!
Do ya need a drink?
Well thats a sinch!
Come on down to Bernie's!
Bernies Bar and Grill is now open, active servicemen get a beer on the house!"
All of the Hivers on station and on their ships stood with absolute bewilderment as to what the flaming hell was going on. In the meantime, a very familiar looking ship warped into the system, drowned out by a cheering crowd as all of the twelve human made ships in the system swarmed it and docked as soon as it was safe.
Thraxis stood from his seat and made his way to the exit. "And just where do you think you are going?" Arborean said with annoyance.
"Beer."
Thraxis moved down the concourse ramp to his shuttle and waited as his Praetorian Guard, and hastily at their heels, Arborean and his guards, caught up and sat down. Thraxis called the robotic driver to go to the Human ship 'Uncle Bernies'. The driver, a machine, let out a happy beep for some reason and with careless abandon charged his way to the ship.
Uncle Bernies was a battlecruiser class. The six Hivers took careful note of its exterior. It was several times larger than most Human warships, and ten times more heavily armed. Mounted in various spots were storage tanks that looked like distilleries and one could clearly see the ship had its own hydroponics and protien synthesis bays built into the hull. The human support ships had been completely emptied by the time the shuttle made it to one of the airlocks.
The robot driver let out a mechanical "Woohoo!" as it hopped out of its car and hastily wheeled its way into the ships maintenance bays. Even the machines were entranced by this ship. The six hivers made their way through the clearly marked hallways into a massive restaurant. Immediately they were surrounded by humans of all classes and types who immediately reacted to their presence with a loud "AHOY MATEY!" of approval before returning to the meals they were enjoying.
The restaurant had over two hundred humans in it, but could comfortably seat a thousand more. The place was a massive circular arnoretum, surrounded on every corner by restaurants, eateries and even a quaint little gift shop.
"What in the Queens tits is this place?" One of Thraxis' Preatorians thought aloud.
"I can answer that my man! Welcome to my humble restaurant and bar!" A human suddenly spoke up from behind the group.
The six turned around to the sight of a grey bearded human with a large midsection, a toolbelt with cooking utensiils in a strange uniform with a funny hat. "Who are you?"
"Im uncle Bernie! Shut yer holes and drink a beer! Activer servicemen get one free beer!" He excitedly said, then jammed a purple aluminium can into everyones hands.
At this point Thraxis was what humans would call 'done.' so, he took a taste of the beverage. "My goodness!" His expression instantly changed to one of happiness as he drank more.
Arborean timidly took a sip of his own can of beer. "By the Mother!" He exclaimed, then chugged the rest of it down with a fist raised high.
Bernie regarded his new customers with a hearty smile and lead them all to a table before serving them a pizza. Within a few moments of them sitting down, Arboreans concubine Jessica returned to her masters lap with flushed cheeks and a silly giggle. The two ambassadors arrived as well, carrying a family size two cheese pizza with mushroom, onion and smoked ham. Jessiica showed them how to eat a pizza by grabbing a slice, then squealing in delight as she tasted the slice. Martinez and Johnny likewise did the same, sighing in happiness as though it was their first christmas.
The hivers tentatively took their own slice of the delicious smelling confection and took a small, cautious bite. Thraxis gave it one taste and threw decorum to the wind and began to aggressively scarf the slice down. The four Praetorians likewise did the same, followed by Arborean who had Jessica feed it to him.
Thraxis sat back in his seat, carefully considering a small fact he suddenly noticed. This place was rather... empty. Uncle Bernie approached and smiled his usual moustachio'ed smile. "Can I get ya anything else boys? Theres plenty for all!"
Thraxis suddenly perked up. "Yes... Olokarn." He looked at his all too happy Preatorian guard.
"Yes My -burp- Prince?" He said.
"Hand me your communicator, patch me into the fleet."
Olokarn did as commanded. "This is Thraxis, Prince of Hive Khathorn. All ships are to immediately disengage operations and report to Uncle Bernie's for lunch." He stopped, after Johnny handed him a piece of napkin with something scrawled on it. "And also... anyone who does not leave a tip, will be shot."
Arborean followed suit, commanding his own substantial naval forces and military to stand down, placing several thousand take-out orders for the planet and station at Martinez' instructions.
Within minutes, the ship was flooded with a thousand Hivers from both factions. To Arborean and Thraxis' astonished shock, Uncle Bernie was there to meet them. All of them. Thraxis noted this and asked Martinez what the hell was going on.
"What, My Lord?" Martinez asked, confused.
"Th-theres Uncle Bernie. And there! And there too! Am I seeing a strange genetic anomaly or is this man a clone?" He said bewildered.
"Well... yah. Thats uncle Bernie there. And there. And there too. And thats... thats Frank actually. Hes Uncle Bernie too but he likes to be called Frank." Martinez said, gesturing to the chefs and cooks of all the various restaurants.
"Care to elaborate? Please?" Arborean said as he held a sleeping Jessica in his arms.
"Uncle Bernie, My Prince, is a human that owned and operated a restaurant at an old shipbuilding yard before Sol was lost called Jupiter Drive Yards. After about twenty years on the job with that very rerstaurant, the company gave him one of our old Refurbished Munificent Class Ornament ships. Thats what this ship is. Its based on an old Trade federation Munificent class in old Star Wars movies." Martinez explained, sitting down with a new can of beer.
"MMmyes, a lot of other restaurants and food franchises exist, but none come close to Bernie's. He turned that ship into a roving restaurant and was there when Sol collapsed. Hes been everywhere. Just roams the stars, feeding and hydrating anyone he comes across at an absolutely rock bottom price. He even caters to machine consciousness because the tech cults have a presence on this ship. All in all, Bernie is just a nice guy, who just wants to own a restaurant. And damn does he do a good job!" Johnny responded in kind as he helped himself to a hotdog.
"And in order to ensure I can provide the service that is needed, nay, demanded of my establishment, I opted to do some cloning and mind copying, just to keep it all running how it needs to be! We share somewhat of a gestalt consciousness too so... it makes things a lot easier. Now, perhaps I can interest anyone in our dessert menu?" Uncle Bernie said, firing up the ice cream makers and waffle irons.
In the end, with all that had happened, neither side was ready or willing to engage in warfare. Both sides were either too full, too sleepy, or too drunk to do any fighting. When the hangovers and bellyaches passed, there was a strange feeling of contentedness between the two factions. Both of them essentially forgot why they were fighting and were too stuffed, happy or filled up to bother asking.
Martinez and Johnny drew up plans for the conflict anyway but they were never used. In all, Arborean and Thraxis agreed to a fifty-fifty split o resources in the star system ultimately benefitting everyone. Especially Bernie. One of the conditions of peace talks, was that Bernie always come round at least once every three months for a good booze up.
Because after all, everyone loves Uncle Bernie!
submitted by FarmWhich4275 to HFY [link] [comments]
Arborean was so certain of his victory he had the barefaced audacity to carry his human concubine with him. His human diplomat Martinez was unamused by tensions as he cast passing glances to the Praetorians flanking his employer. Arborean made sure to prominently display his most prized possession with the woman sitting on his lap.
"Surely we can find a way around this? There has to be a way to sue for peace. At least for this battle. Perhaps we can exclude some ships from the roster and at least make it an even fight?" Johnny could sense he was getting nowhere, but he still had a few angles.
"Sure... we can sue for peace. AFTER you hand over the system! Those Gehennan spice mines are ours and you damn well know it!" Martinez slammed his hand on the table.
"You and I both know that if that fleet goes to battle it would be an absolute slaughter! If your master was half the warrior he so claims he is, he would agree to roster the battle to make it fair!" Johnny blasted his opponent.
Arborean whispered into his diplomats ear. The shame tactic and personal attack worked. "A point made in anger but still a point. We will agree to the standard galactic Ship Points Allocation system. However... No holds barred. Last man standing rules only." Martinez said with a certain sinister grin.
Tyraxis hung his head in shame. The Queen would have his head after this one way or another for this, but at least it would give his men a fighting chance. He gave a nod to Johnny and sent him a note on his wearable data manager. "Fine. If we win, you will not come back to this system. The point was proven, tactics ruled the day. If we win, you leave and don't come back!"
Arborean thought for a moment then nodded his head. "Deal." Martinez said, extending a hand out.
Martinez and Johnny shook hands and started drawing up paperwork as Arborean began to greedily fondle his prized possession, much to the blistering rage of Tyraxis burning eyes. Suddenly the door flung itself open, a human marine barged through the door.
"UNCLE BERNIE'S HERE!!!!" He yelled with unimaginable excitement, and charged back out again.
"Uncle Bernie!?" All three of the humans said this at once, and all three, suddenly got up from where they stood and bolted to the exit with such speed it made everyone's heads spin.
A few moments of awkward and stunned silence followed this occurrence. "What the hell is an uncle Bernie?" Arborean asked, as if expecting an answer.
"Well... Uncle is a human term, it means the brother of my father. Bernie is I believe someone's name." On of Tyraxis' Praetorians said.
The two princes regarded each other for a moment longer before one of Tyraxis' Praetorians broke the silence as his communicator beeped. "My Prince... every human ship in the system has disengaged!"
"WHAT!?" Both Princes yelled out in unison.
"Warp signature detected! There is a battlecruiser class vessel entering the system!" Arboreans Praetorian warned.
"What treachery are you planning Thraxis?!" Arborean lashed out.
"What are you talking about? This is YOUR doing! How much did you bribe my ambassador hm?"
Just then, an interruption. Every communications unit on the station suddenly came to life. It was some kind of... song? Silly, whimsical. Catchy.
"Are ya lost in space?
Need pie in your face?
Come on down to Bernies!
Do ya need a drink?
Well thats a sinch!
Come on down to Bernie's!
Bernies Bar and Grill is now open, active servicemen get a beer on the house!"
All of the Hivers on station and on their ships stood with absolute bewilderment as to what the flaming hell was going on. In the meantime, a very familiar looking ship warped into the system, drowned out by a cheering crowd as all of the twelve human made ships in the system swarmed it and docked as soon as it was safe.
Thraxis stood from his seat and made his way to the exit. "And just where do you think you are going?" Arborean said with annoyance.
"Beer."
Thraxis moved down the concourse ramp to his shuttle and waited as his Praetorian Guard, and hastily at their heels, Arborean and his guards, caught up and sat down. Thraxis called the robotic driver to go to the Human ship 'Uncle Bernies'. The driver, a machine, let out a happy beep for some reason and with careless abandon charged his way to the ship.
Uncle Bernies was a battlecruiser class. The six Hivers took careful note of its exterior. It was several times larger than most Human warships, and ten times more heavily armed. Mounted in various spots were storage tanks that looked like distilleries and one could clearly see the ship had its own hydroponics and protien synthesis bays built into the hull. The human support ships had been completely emptied by the time the shuttle made it to one of the airlocks.
The robot driver let out a mechanical "Woohoo!" as it hopped out of its car and hastily wheeled its way into the ships maintenance bays. Even the machines were entranced by this ship. The six hivers made their way through the clearly marked hallways into a massive restaurant. Immediately they were surrounded by humans of all classes and types who immediately reacted to their presence with a loud "AHOY MATEY!" of approval before returning to the meals they were enjoying.
The restaurant had over two hundred humans in it, but could comfortably seat a thousand more. The place was a massive circular arnoretum, surrounded on every corner by restaurants, eateries and even a quaint little gift shop.
"What in the Queens tits is this place?" One of Thraxis' Preatorians thought aloud.
"I can answer that my man! Welcome to my humble restaurant and bar!" A human suddenly spoke up from behind the group.
The six turned around to the sight of a grey bearded human with a large midsection, a toolbelt with cooking utensiils in a strange uniform with a funny hat. "Who are you?"
"Im uncle Bernie! Shut yer holes and drink a beer! Activer servicemen get one free beer!" He excitedly said, then jammed a purple aluminium can into everyones hands.
At this point Thraxis was what humans would call 'done.' so, he took a taste of the beverage. "My goodness!" His expression instantly changed to one of happiness as he drank more.
Arborean timidly took a sip of his own can of beer. "By the Mother!" He exclaimed, then chugged the rest of it down with a fist raised high.
Bernie regarded his new customers with a hearty smile and lead them all to a table before serving them a pizza. Within a few moments of them sitting down, Arboreans concubine Jessica returned to her masters lap with flushed cheeks and a silly giggle. The two ambassadors arrived as well, carrying a family size two cheese pizza with mushroom, onion and smoked ham. Jessiica showed them how to eat a pizza by grabbing a slice, then squealing in delight as she tasted the slice. Martinez and Johnny likewise did the same, sighing in happiness as though it was their first christmas.
The hivers tentatively took their own slice of the delicious smelling confection and took a small, cautious bite. Thraxis gave it one taste and threw decorum to the wind and began to aggressively scarf the slice down. The four Praetorians likewise did the same, followed by Arborean who had Jessica feed it to him.
Thraxis sat back in his seat, carefully considering a small fact he suddenly noticed. This place was rather... empty. Uncle Bernie approached and smiled his usual moustachio'ed smile. "Can I get ya anything else boys? Theres plenty for all!"
Thraxis suddenly perked up. "Yes... Olokarn." He looked at his all too happy Preatorian guard.
"Yes My -burp- Prince?" He said.
"Hand me your communicator, patch me into the fleet."
Olokarn did as commanded. "This is Thraxis, Prince of Hive Khathorn. All ships are to immediately disengage operations and report to Uncle Bernie's for lunch." He stopped, after Johnny handed him a piece of napkin with something scrawled on it. "And also... anyone who does not leave a tip, will be shot."
Arborean followed suit, commanding his own substantial naval forces and military to stand down, placing several thousand take-out orders for the planet and station at Martinez' instructions.
Within minutes, the ship was flooded with a thousand Hivers from both factions. To Arborean and Thraxis' astonished shock, Uncle Bernie was there to meet them. All of them. Thraxis noted this and asked Martinez what the hell was going on.
"What, My Lord?" Martinez asked, confused.
"Th-theres Uncle Bernie. And there! And there too! Am I seeing a strange genetic anomaly or is this man a clone?" He said bewildered.
"Well... yah. Thats uncle Bernie there. And there. And there too. And thats... thats Frank actually. Hes Uncle Bernie too but he likes to be called Frank." Martinez said, gesturing to the chefs and cooks of all the various restaurants.
"Care to elaborate? Please?" Arborean said as he held a sleeping Jessica in his arms.
"Uncle Bernie, My Prince, is a human that owned and operated a restaurant at an old shipbuilding yard before Sol was lost called Jupiter Drive Yards. After about twenty years on the job with that very rerstaurant, the company gave him one of our old Refurbished Munificent Class Ornament ships. Thats what this ship is. Its based on an old Trade federation Munificent class in old Star Wars movies." Martinez explained, sitting down with a new can of beer.
"MMmyes, a lot of other restaurants and food franchises exist, but none come close to Bernie's. He turned that ship into a roving restaurant and was there when Sol collapsed. Hes been everywhere. Just roams the stars, feeding and hydrating anyone he comes across at an absolutely rock bottom price. He even caters to machine consciousness because the tech cults have a presence on this ship. All in all, Bernie is just a nice guy, who just wants to own a restaurant. And damn does he do a good job!" Johnny responded in kind as he helped himself to a hotdog.
"And in order to ensure I can provide the service that is needed, nay, demanded of my establishment, I opted to do some cloning and mind copying, just to keep it all running how it needs to be! We share somewhat of a gestalt consciousness too so... it makes things a lot easier. Now, perhaps I can interest anyone in our dessert menu?" Uncle Bernie said, firing up the ice cream makers and waffle irons.
In the end, with all that had happened, neither side was ready or willing to engage in warfare. Both sides were either too full, too sleepy, or too drunk to do any fighting. When the hangovers and bellyaches passed, there was a strange feeling of contentedness between the two factions. Both of them essentially forgot why they were fighting and were too stuffed, happy or filled up to bother asking.
Martinez and Johnny drew up plans for the conflict anyway but they were never used. In all, Arborean and Thraxis agreed to a fifty-fifty split o resources in the star system ultimately benefitting everyone. Especially Bernie. One of the conditions of peace talks, was that Bernie always come round at least once every three months for a good booze up.
Because after all, everyone loves Uncle Bernie!
2023.05.27 20:03 Ok_Writing_820 Hardly any live music in Italy
Why does Italy have little to no live music? Like local bars/venues with good bands playing and entertaining.
I also hear Italians love to dance despite of this. If this is true, the disparity between the two is pretty surprising.
Would love to hear the reason for this. Or if I’m off on these two points then would be nice to know too.
My gf is Italian and hoping to get more in depth understanding of this as I’m a musician
submitted by Ok_Writing_820 to italy [link] [comments]
I also hear Italians love to dance despite of this. If this is true, the disparity between the two is pretty surprising.
Would love to hear the reason for this. Or if I’m off on these two points then would be nice to know too.
My gf is Italian and hoping to get more in depth understanding of this as I’m a musician
2023.05.27 19:52 Superb_Buy3007 rent a Riverboat in Italy for a week
If you're looking for a unique way to explore the beautiful waterways of Italy, renting a riverboat could be the perfect option for you. And SEARADAR is the best concierge service you can rely on for a seamless and hassle-free experience.
SEARADAR offers personalized selections of high-quality yachts from trusted charter companies, including riverboats in Italy. With SEARADAR, you can rest assured that you will have access to the best riverboats available and the support managers will be there to assist you with paperwork, route planning, and any questions or issues that may arise throughout your trip.
Italy has a wide range of waterways to explore, from the canals of Venice to the breathtaking scenery of the Po River Valley. Some of the best areas to roam on your riverboat in Italy include the Venetian Lagoon, the Brenta Canal, the Po River, and the charming canals of Milan and Mantua. With a riverboat, you'll have the flexibility to explore at your own pace and stop at any charming towns or villages along the way.
Renting a riverboat in Italy is also a great option during the months of May to September, as the weather is typically warm and sunny. During these months, you can enjoy the stunning Italian scenery while cruising along the waterways, stopping to enjoy delicious Italian cuisine and wine at local restaurants or cafes.
What's more, renting a riverboat through SEARADAR is available at the cheapest and best prices. By using the following link: https://searadar.tp.st/ysUlRFOw, you can easily browse and choose from a wide selection of riverboats available in Italy, and SEARADAR's support managers will be happy to assist you in finding the perfect boat for your needs.
So, if you're looking for a unique and unforgettable way to explore the beauty of Italy's waterways, look no further than SEARADAR. Rent a riverboat through SEARADAR and start planning your dream Italian getaway today!
submitted by Superb_Buy3007 to YachtCharterHub [link] [comments]
SEARADAR offers personalized selections of high-quality yachts from trusted charter companies, including riverboats in Italy. With SEARADAR, you can rest assured that you will have access to the best riverboats available and the support managers will be there to assist you with paperwork, route planning, and any questions or issues that may arise throughout your trip.
Italy has a wide range of waterways to explore, from the canals of Venice to the breathtaking scenery of the Po River Valley. Some of the best areas to roam on your riverboat in Italy include the Venetian Lagoon, the Brenta Canal, the Po River, and the charming canals of Milan and Mantua. With a riverboat, you'll have the flexibility to explore at your own pace and stop at any charming towns or villages along the way.
Renting a riverboat in Italy is also a great option during the months of May to September, as the weather is typically warm and sunny. During these months, you can enjoy the stunning Italian scenery while cruising along the waterways, stopping to enjoy delicious Italian cuisine and wine at local restaurants or cafes.
What's more, renting a riverboat through SEARADAR is available at the cheapest and best prices. By using the following link: https://searadar.tp.st/ysUlRFOw, you can easily browse and choose from a wide selection of riverboats available in Italy, and SEARADAR's support managers will be happy to assist you in finding the perfect boat for your needs.
So, if you're looking for a unique and unforgettable way to explore the beauty of Italy's waterways, look no further than SEARADAR. Rent a riverboat through SEARADAR and start planning your dream Italian getaway today!
2023.05.27 18:48 Crohwned Hopefully a fair Scarlet Lady review from a return VV cruiser.
Warning- this ended up being much longer than I thought when I started. Wall of text incoming!
Up front, to get my "bias" out there, VV has been my wife and I's go-to cruise line since our first Scarlet Lady sailing back when cruise ships were first starting to sail again after COVID. We absolutely love the VV vibe, service, food, and all there is to do on the ship. For other folks who have sailed VV in the past (and specifically on the Scarlet Lady) I thought I'd post a review with some changes we noticed on the sailing we just got off of. I really hope that this review is helpful, and shares both the good and not-so-good things we experienced in a fair way.
The Overall TL;DR- We had a a great time, but a lot of the shine when it comes to service seems to have faded. Dining in the restaurants was spectacular as always, but dining in the Galley was not a great experience for us on this sailing. We *really* enjoyed the new (to us) Its a Ship Show, but the Guilty Pleasures show didn't strike much of a chord. We had a lot of fun with the other "smaller" entertainment, and really enjoyed our time in ports. Due to our frustrations with the service on board we're taking a bit of a wait and see approach for our next cruise- I'm hopeful that this was a one-off bump in the road, but if it turns out this is the direction VV is going, it isn't a good thing.
Our cruise started off with a big thud. The incoming sailing had been a chartered sailing, and apparently a bunch of people refused to get off the ship until very, very late in the morning, which delayed boarding significantly for some (early boarding groups were delayed more than the later groups). While this was out of VVs control, the port employees reaction was not. I understand that it was a stressful situation for all involved, but there seemed to be a lack of care from the employees who were managing the lines. They seemed annoyed, and irritated, and were short with waiting passengers, and for a long time were slim on letting us know what was going on. (YMMV, as the waiting lines are all out front, and some lines may have had better service than others- I'm only presenting what I observed around me).
Once we got on board, and went to our room, it was clear that the room cleaning had been rushed. While our room had been all made up, there were dirty glasses in our bathroom, and some "gross" stuff that had been wiped on the inside of the bathroom door but not cleaned (I wont go into any more details, but just say, it wasn't a pleasant thing to brush up against). That said our room attendant was FANTASTIC as we were able to get her attention, and she was mortified that something so bad was missed, and immediately got someone to come to our room to clean the bathroom. She then asked when our dinner reservation was and let us know that while we were at dinner, she'd have the entire room re-cleaned/made up to ensure that nothing else was missed.
Unfortunately, this wasn't the only room issue we had. We've had rooms directly under the Galley in the past, and never had any issues with noise. Our room (and our neighbors room) on this sailing, was directly under a seating area with heavy wooden chairs/stools directly on the tile floor. TIL that the sound of heavy chairs scraping on tile gets amplified greatly with the ship's steel structure. Every minute or two, there would be an extremely loud "GGGGGGGGGGRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR" sound. It took me a while to figure out it was the chairs in the Galley, and at one point I joked that someone must be playing shuffle board by sliding deck loungers across the floor above us. Luckily we had brought good ear plugs, or we would have suffered the fate of our neighbors who were unable to sleep much the entire cruise. We spoke to sailor services about this, and the person we talked to essentially just shrugged it off saying there was nothing they could do (in a very "I dont really care about your issue" way), and even said that it couldn't be that loud (narrator- it WAS that loud). Our neighbors said they went down and talked to sailor services about it every single day (as they were unable to sleep), and on the final day in Bimini, were told they could be moved to another room. So a lesson learned- while other rooms under The Galley are just fine, there are some areas you *dont* want to be. Avoid rooms directly under The Galley. VV- if you read these threads at all, an easy fix- put some Teflon sliders and/or rubber feet under the legs of the heavy wooden chairs/stools that are on tile in the Galley (like you have on the wire/metal chairs). It'll not only greatly reduce the noise, but will also keep the tiles from getting scratched up. The level of noise could have been a complete trip ruiner for us, had we not brought ear-plugs, and had we been treated like our neighbor cabin was.
Speaking of The Galley, this was the biggest negative change for us. Many of the servers in the Galley seemed either inexperienced, or like they just didn't want to serve anyone. One example was when we sat down at 11:55pm for lunch one day. The server told us most of the places didn't open until noon, then walked away. At 12:20, we finally got up and moved to a new spot, as a server had still not returned to take our order. A few days in, we found that the servers who worked the outdoor area at the aft of the ship were much more attentive and provided great service. That said, our food almost always came out to us cold, and the quality seemed like it had taken a nose-dive from our last sailing. The 2 big exceptions- the Sushi bento boxes were WONDERFUL, and the French Toast I had one morning was great. Unfortunately, we went from loving the Galley for a bite to eat on our prior cruises, to avoiding it on this sailing. (We ate a lot of steak bites and polenta at the dock, so all was not lost :D ).
One last thing we noticed- empty glasses/plates/etc.. all over the ship. In one case near the pool, a couple left took their towels with them, leaving a couple of plates and empty drink glasses. A new couple came and moved the dirty dishes next to the loungers, got the attention of a server and asked if it could be cleaned up. Over an hour later when my wife and I were leaving, the dirty dishes were still there. My wife and I like to walk laps around the ship a lot, and on both the top decks and promenade level, we noticed a lot of dirty dishes just sitting out on tables, the ground etc.
Overall, the issues that came up for us on the ship related to service were a huge contrast from our prior sailings. Sailor Services didn't seem very interested in resolving (or even empathizing with) the two issues we brought up to them, and the service in the galley (and general level of service on the ship) definitely feels like it has gone downhill. And holy cow this turned out long! Lets move on to some greener pastures!
Restaurant Dining
As we have had in the past, the restaurant dining was fantastic.
On the first night, as we always do, we went to Test Kitchen. For those who have done Test Kitchen before, on this sailing it was the Corn/Beet/Salmon/Lamb/Strawberry menu. While a lot of people complain about this menu, I quite like it, including the Asparagus Sorbet. Our server was extremely friendly and knowledgeable about the menu, and chatted with us quite a bit, answering all of our questions about how things were prepared, what they'd pair well with, etc. I had the test-kitchen Old Fashioned cocktail and loved it. I can totally see how Test Kitchen is not for some people, but my wife and I always enjoy the experience, and this sailing was as good as its always been for us.
On the second evening, we went to my favorite restaurant onboard, Pink Agave. Being my favorite, I am always worried that I'll be let down, but never am, and this sailing was no exception. We ended up eating with a passenger we met in line and had fantastic conversations for the entire meal. We ordered all of the small plates for the table, and enjoyed sampling everything. For our mains, I ordered the Ribeye (which IMO is the best steak on the ship), and my wife had the smoked pork. There was also sea bass on the menu, so we ordered one to split- surf and turf FTW! All the food was great! There were no misses at all, and our server, like at the test kitchen was amazing!
Night Three was The Wake. For appetizers, my wife ordered the Wedge Salad which she said was great, and I decided to try something new- the Bone Marrow, and it was very nice! My wife then had the Fillet, and I took the recommendation from our server and went with the Hanger Steak for the first time. After sharing, we both agreed- the Fillet was good, but the Hanger Steak was FANTASTIC. We had Spinach, Twice Baked Potatoes, and Asparagus for our sides, which all came out delicious. For dessert, we both had our favorite on the ship- the Lemon Cheesecake, and it was wonderful as always. Our server at the Wake was our favorite this trip. That evening we were celebrating our wedding anniversary, and our server was so kind, and genuinely happy for us. She brought even more joy to a very happy evening for us.
Night four was Gunbae. Food-wise this is probably our least favorite restaurant on the ship, but it is always a very fun and energetic evening! We both always enjoy the appetizers, but feel like the main courses end up being a bit over-cooked and don't have a whole lot of flavor. I think with Gunbae your experience can be heavily dependent on who you are seated with, and our table-mates were a ton of fun, so it all turned out great! We both really enjoyed the green-tea ice cream at the end (I don't recall ever having this before? Is it new?), and FINALLY, I won the counting drinking game (I'm normally the first or second person out). :D
For our final night, we did Extra Virgin. We've never done EV on the final night, and for us, I think I'd schedule it earlier in our itinerary, as by this point on a cruise were we ate entirely too much, a really heavy/rich dinner was probably the last thing we needed. The food was fantastic as always- for appetizers, my wife had the Crispy Artichokes which she enjoyed, and I had the meatballs where were delicious (though i was only able to eat about half of them). For our main, I had the Gnocchi, and my wife had the spaghetti bolognese). She passed on dessert, but I had the Whisky gelato, and it was very yummy!
The only non-shining experience in the restaurants was breakfast/brunch at Razzle Dazzle. It wasn't as good as it had been in the past (cold eggs and missing parts of our order) and it felt quite rushed. I don't have a whole lot to say about it other than that.
On the other hand, we had breakfast at The Wake on our disembarkation morning, and it was AMAZING. We split the banana french toast, and each had Steak and Eggs, and it was the best breakfast we had all week. It was a great way to end the cruise.
On past cruises, I always felt a little let down by The Wake. It was always good, and I enjoyed it, but it didn't really live up to the hype in my mind. On this sailing, The Wake absolutely lived up to the hype for us, both for dinner and breakfast. Pink Agave is still my favorite, but I was much more impressed by The Wake on this sailing than in the past.
Shows/Entertainment
I'll touch on the shows that were new to us on this sailing. The first show we went to was the Guilty Pleasures show, which ended up being a fun sing-along, interrupted by IMO, not very entertaining or funny comedy. Singing along to the songs was a blast, and they most definitely were the guilty pleasure songs that my wife and I belt out when we're driving alone in the car. Unfortunately between the songs was what I can only describe as a "plot-based standup comedy routine that told the same tired joke again, and again, and again." If it had just been a music/sing-along, I would have loved it. But hey, everyone is entertained by different things, so I hope there were those who enjoyed the show!
On Gunbae night, we also hit up the late showing of It's a Ship Show. It had a small-portion dinner (we've had first dinner.. why not have second dinner?!?) and the food was fine. The show itself is a variety show, with a very fun Emcee, a good band, a fantastic singer, and several very entertaining acts. We both really enjoyed It's a Ship Show, and would highly recommend it if its on your sailing. I wont say much more as I don't want to spoil it for anyone, but it was a lot of fun.
On this sailing my wife and I were going for a more relaxed vibe, and as we'd seen them all before, didn't go to any of the mainstay shows (Duel Reality, UNTITLED, Ships in the night, etc..).
For the smaller activities, we did the VH1/Shake-weight workout which was a blast as always (though they seemed to tone down the innuendo a bit from prior sailings), and had a ton of fun getting our butts kicked in Dodgeball.
One thing we noticed on this sailing that disappointed us a bit- in the past the "Happenings" cast always seemed to be out and about, and a presence on the ship. I love magic/slight of hand, my wife loves art, and we're both foodies and love games, so we'd get to know (specifically) The Charmer, The Artist, The Foodie, and The Gamer, both during their events, and just chatting with them around the ship. This time around, outside of their specific events, we didn't see them out and about at all. Additionally, it felt like their events weren't really planned for a more full ship like we were on. For example, the Charmer's Lounge was done at the Sip Lounge. He worked his way from one end of the room to the other, table by table, spending about 15-20 minutes at each table. We were lucky that we picked the third table from where he started, and so we "only" had to wait an hour. Half way through the event, it looked like they started kicking people at the other end of the Sip Lounge out, to do afternoon Tea. I think he might have gotten through all of 15-20 people, when there were well over 50 who showed up to the event. Also, this was the only time I ever even saw The Charmer out and about the entire cruise.
Having those interactions was something we really missed from prior sailings, and perhaps we were just always in the wrong place at the wrong time, but they definitely didn't seem to have the presence they had onboard in the past.
Excursions
We did one excursion on this trip- in Cozumel we did the Snorkeling/Beach day/Cooking/Tequila Tasting, where they take you to a private beach/resort, have you snorkel off the beach, show you how to make a really tasty Guac, and let you taste some Tequila, all the while having a buffet for lunch and open bar. We had a very nice time on shore, and our guide was lots of fun. It wasn't terribly expensive as far as excursions go (about $80pp if I recall), and I'm very glad we did it. The only thing about it that gave me some pause- the description of the excursion specifically states that your price includes gratuities, yet the guide was specifically asking for tips. I didn't tip him as much as I normally would if gratuities weren't included, but it was just a little bit awkward.
We didn't do an excursion in Bimini, but were on the first tram to the beach, and spent the entire morning between swimming in the ocean and in the great pool they have at the resort. As always, Bimini was one of the highlights of the cruise, and was an absolute blast.
Our Takeaways
First off, if you read this far, WOW. I didn't realize this was going to be such a novel, but here we are! :D Overall my wife and I both had a great time on our cruise. The food was fantastic, most of the shows/events we went to were a blast, and as always on a VV cruise, we met and got to know a bunch of wonderful people, while relaxing and spending some quality time with each other. Our excursion in Cozumel and time in Bimini were wonderful.
That said, this is the first time we haven't put down a deposit on a future cruise. One of the places where we always saw so much value in sailing with VV, and a huge reason we were willing to pay the VV premium was the level of service on the ship, and on this sailing there were a lot of misses in that regard, and for the first time, we didn't feel like we got quite as much value out of what we paid for the cruise (because of what is important to us, YMMV). That's not to say we wont be sailing with VV again- its just that we want to watch how things trend, and how things settle out as the other ships come online and the various ship crews get used to more full ships. As I said ages ago in the beginning of my review- we really hope that this was just a one-off not-as-spectacular sailing for us.
I've seen others talk about how the Scarlet Lady has become the defacto "Training" ship, and from our experience this sailing, I wouldn't doubt it. While that is a reason, it is not an excuse. If that is what's going on I hope it is a temporary situation, as I don't think the quality of a sailor's cruise should be affected by what ship happens to be leaving port the dates they can sail. So here is to hoping that VV gets this all figured out soon, and the experience on ALL of their ships gets back to what it has been in the past.
Finally, I'll just say, if you find yourself on a cruise, and something the cruise line does is letting you down, don't let it ruin your trip. While we were disappointed in several aspects of the service, my wife and I were still able to fully enjoy our cruise, and specifically our time with each other. It was a special anniversary trip for us, and it would have been an absolute shame if we let the issues we had with VV's service ruin it. Instead we filed our issues away, continued to enjoy all the ship had to offer, and will use our experience to shape who/where we do our next cruise with, rather than letting it run the experience in the moment.
submitted by Crohwned to VirginVoyages [link] [comments]
Up front, to get my "bias" out there, VV has been my wife and I's go-to cruise line since our first Scarlet Lady sailing back when cruise ships were first starting to sail again after COVID. We absolutely love the VV vibe, service, food, and all there is to do on the ship. For other folks who have sailed VV in the past (and specifically on the Scarlet Lady) I thought I'd post a review with some changes we noticed on the sailing we just got off of. I really hope that this review is helpful, and shares both the good and not-so-good things we experienced in a fair way.
The Overall TL;DR- We had a a great time, but a lot of the shine when it comes to service seems to have faded. Dining in the restaurants was spectacular as always, but dining in the Galley was not a great experience for us on this sailing. We *really* enjoyed the new (to us) Its a Ship Show, but the Guilty Pleasures show didn't strike much of a chord. We had a lot of fun with the other "smaller" entertainment, and really enjoyed our time in ports. Due to our frustrations with the service on board we're taking a bit of a wait and see approach for our next cruise- I'm hopeful that this was a one-off bump in the road, but if it turns out this is the direction VV is going, it isn't a good thing.
The Review
Service Issues Lets get the negative part of the review out of the way. And keep in mind, while I'm not going to be real positive here, we did still have a great time on board, and didn't let this get in the way of our fun. That said, it did have an impact on our cruise, and I felt it was worth mentioning, because it is my wife and I's biggest concern about VV going forward. I will also admit that you notice a bad service experience much more than when it goes smoothly, so there is some bias here.Our cruise started off with a big thud. The incoming sailing had been a chartered sailing, and apparently a bunch of people refused to get off the ship until very, very late in the morning, which delayed boarding significantly for some (early boarding groups were delayed more than the later groups). While this was out of VVs control, the port employees reaction was not. I understand that it was a stressful situation for all involved, but there seemed to be a lack of care from the employees who were managing the lines. They seemed annoyed, and irritated, and were short with waiting passengers, and for a long time were slim on letting us know what was going on. (YMMV, as the waiting lines are all out front, and some lines may have had better service than others- I'm only presenting what I observed around me).
Once we got on board, and went to our room, it was clear that the room cleaning had been rushed. While our room had been all made up, there were dirty glasses in our bathroom, and some "gross" stuff that had been wiped on the inside of the bathroom door but not cleaned (I wont go into any more details, but just say, it wasn't a pleasant thing to brush up against). That said our room attendant was FANTASTIC as we were able to get her attention, and she was mortified that something so bad was missed, and immediately got someone to come to our room to clean the bathroom. She then asked when our dinner reservation was and let us know that while we were at dinner, she'd have the entire room re-cleaned/made up to ensure that nothing else was missed.
Unfortunately, this wasn't the only room issue we had. We've had rooms directly under the Galley in the past, and never had any issues with noise. Our room (and our neighbors room) on this sailing, was directly under a seating area with heavy wooden chairs/stools directly on the tile floor. TIL that the sound of heavy chairs scraping on tile gets amplified greatly with the ship's steel structure. Every minute or two, there would be an extremely loud "GGGGGGGGGGRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR" sound. It took me a while to figure out it was the chairs in the Galley, and at one point I joked that someone must be playing shuffle board by sliding deck loungers across the floor above us. Luckily we had brought good ear plugs, or we would have suffered the fate of our neighbors who were unable to sleep much the entire cruise. We spoke to sailor services about this, and the person we talked to essentially just shrugged it off saying there was nothing they could do (in a very "I dont really care about your issue" way), and even said that it couldn't be that loud (narrator- it WAS that loud). Our neighbors said they went down and talked to sailor services about it every single day (as they were unable to sleep), and on the final day in Bimini, were told they could be moved to another room. So a lesson learned- while other rooms under The Galley are just fine, there are some areas you *dont* want to be. Avoid rooms directly under The Galley. VV- if you read these threads at all, an easy fix- put some Teflon sliders and/or rubber feet under the legs of the heavy wooden chairs/stools that are on tile in the Galley (like you have on the wire/metal chairs). It'll not only greatly reduce the noise, but will also keep the tiles from getting scratched up. The level of noise could have been a complete trip ruiner for us, had we not brought ear-plugs, and had we been treated like our neighbor cabin was.
Speaking of The Galley, this was the biggest negative change for us. Many of the servers in the Galley seemed either inexperienced, or like they just didn't want to serve anyone. One example was when we sat down at 11:55pm for lunch one day. The server told us most of the places didn't open until noon, then walked away. At 12:20, we finally got up and moved to a new spot, as a server had still not returned to take our order. A few days in, we found that the servers who worked the outdoor area at the aft of the ship were much more attentive and provided great service. That said, our food almost always came out to us cold, and the quality seemed like it had taken a nose-dive from our last sailing. The 2 big exceptions- the Sushi bento boxes were WONDERFUL, and the French Toast I had one morning was great. Unfortunately, we went from loving the Galley for a bite to eat on our prior cruises, to avoiding it on this sailing. (We ate a lot of steak bites and polenta at the dock, so all was not lost :D ).
One last thing we noticed- empty glasses/plates/etc.. all over the ship. In one case near the pool, a couple left took their towels with them, leaving a couple of plates and empty drink glasses. A new couple came and moved the dirty dishes next to the loungers, got the attention of a server and asked if it could be cleaned up. Over an hour later when my wife and I were leaving, the dirty dishes were still there. My wife and I like to walk laps around the ship a lot, and on both the top decks and promenade level, we noticed a lot of dirty dishes just sitting out on tables, the ground etc.
Overall, the issues that came up for us on the ship related to service were a huge contrast from our prior sailings. Sailor Services didn't seem very interested in resolving (or even empathizing with) the two issues we brought up to them, and the service in the galley (and general level of service on the ship) definitely feels like it has gone downhill. And holy cow this turned out long! Lets move on to some greener pastures!
Restaurant Dining
As we have had in the past, the restaurant dining was fantastic.
On the first night, as we always do, we went to Test Kitchen. For those who have done Test Kitchen before, on this sailing it was the Corn/Beet/Salmon/Lamb/Strawberry menu. While a lot of people complain about this menu, I quite like it, including the Asparagus Sorbet. Our server was extremely friendly and knowledgeable about the menu, and chatted with us quite a bit, answering all of our questions about how things were prepared, what they'd pair well with, etc. I had the test-kitchen Old Fashioned cocktail and loved it. I can totally see how Test Kitchen is not for some people, but my wife and I always enjoy the experience, and this sailing was as good as its always been for us.
On the second evening, we went to my favorite restaurant onboard, Pink Agave. Being my favorite, I am always worried that I'll be let down, but never am, and this sailing was no exception. We ended up eating with a passenger we met in line and had fantastic conversations for the entire meal. We ordered all of the small plates for the table, and enjoyed sampling everything. For our mains, I ordered the Ribeye (which IMO is the best steak on the ship), and my wife had the smoked pork. There was also sea bass on the menu, so we ordered one to split- surf and turf FTW! All the food was great! There were no misses at all, and our server, like at the test kitchen was amazing!
Night Three was The Wake. For appetizers, my wife ordered the Wedge Salad which she said was great, and I decided to try something new- the Bone Marrow, and it was very nice! My wife then had the Fillet, and I took the recommendation from our server and went with the Hanger Steak for the first time. After sharing, we both agreed- the Fillet was good, but the Hanger Steak was FANTASTIC. We had Spinach, Twice Baked Potatoes, and Asparagus for our sides, which all came out delicious. For dessert, we both had our favorite on the ship- the Lemon Cheesecake, and it was wonderful as always. Our server at the Wake was our favorite this trip. That evening we were celebrating our wedding anniversary, and our server was so kind, and genuinely happy for us. She brought even more joy to a very happy evening for us.
Night four was Gunbae. Food-wise this is probably our least favorite restaurant on the ship, but it is always a very fun and energetic evening! We both always enjoy the appetizers, but feel like the main courses end up being a bit over-cooked and don't have a whole lot of flavor. I think with Gunbae your experience can be heavily dependent on who you are seated with, and our table-mates were a ton of fun, so it all turned out great! We both really enjoyed the green-tea ice cream at the end (I don't recall ever having this before? Is it new?), and FINALLY, I won the counting drinking game (I'm normally the first or second person out). :D
For our final night, we did Extra Virgin. We've never done EV on the final night, and for us, I think I'd schedule it earlier in our itinerary, as by this point on a cruise were we ate entirely too much, a really heavy/rich dinner was probably the last thing we needed. The food was fantastic as always- for appetizers, my wife had the Crispy Artichokes which she enjoyed, and I had the meatballs where were delicious (though i was only able to eat about half of them). For our main, I had the Gnocchi, and my wife had the spaghetti bolognese). She passed on dessert, but I had the Whisky gelato, and it was very yummy!
The only non-shining experience in the restaurants was breakfast/brunch at Razzle Dazzle. It wasn't as good as it had been in the past (cold eggs and missing parts of our order) and it felt quite rushed. I don't have a whole lot to say about it other than that.
On the other hand, we had breakfast at The Wake on our disembarkation morning, and it was AMAZING. We split the banana french toast, and each had Steak and Eggs, and it was the best breakfast we had all week. It was a great way to end the cruise.
On past cruises, I always felt a little let down by The Wake. It was always good, and I enjoyed it, but it didn't really live up to the hype in my mind. On this sailing, The Wake absolutely lived up to the hype for us, both for dinner and breakfast. Pink Agave is still my favorite, but I was much more impressed by The Wake on this sailing than in the past.
Shows/Entertainment
I'll touch on the shows that were new to us on this sailing. The first show we went to was the Guilty Pleasures show, which ended up being a fun sing-along, interrupted by IMO, not very entertaining or funny comedy. Singing along to the songs was a blast, and they most definitely were the guilty pleasure songs that my wife and I belt out when we're driving alone in the car. Unfortunately between the songs was what I can only describe as a "plot-based standup comedy routine that told the same tired joke again, and again, and again." If it had just been a music/sing-along, I would have loved it. But hey, everyone is entertained by different things, so I hope there were those who enjoyed the show!
On Gunbae night, we also hit up the late showing of It's a Ship Show. It had a small-portion dinner (we've had first dinner.. why not have second dinner?!?) and the food was fine. The show itself is a variety show, with a very fun Emcee, a good band, a fantastic singer, and several very entertaining acts. We both really enjoyed It's a Ship Show, and would highly recommend it if its on your sailing. I wont say much more as I don't want to spoil it for anyone, but it was a lot of fun.
On this sailing my wife and I were going for a more relaxed vibe, and as we'd seen them all before, didn't go to any of the mainstay shows (Duel Reality, UNTITLED, Ships in the night, etc..).
For the smaller activities, we did the VH1/Shake-weight workout which was a blast as always (though they seemed to tone down the innuendo a bit from prior sailings), and had a ton of fun getting our butts kicked in Dodgeball.
One thing we noticed on this sailing that disappointed us a bit- in the past the "Happenings" cast always seemed to be out and about, and a presence on the ship. I love magic/slight of hand, my wife loves art, and we're both foodies and love games, so we'd get to know (specifically) The Charmer, The Artist, The Foodie, and The Gamer, both during their events, and just chatting with them around the ship. This time around, outside of their specific events, we didn't see them out and about at all. Additionally, it felt like their events weren't really planned for a more full ship like we were on. For example, the Charmer's Lounge was done at the Sip Lounge. He worked his way from one end of the room to the other, table by table, spending about 15-20 minutes at each table. We were lucky that we picked the third table from where he started, and so we "only" had to wait an hour. Half way through the event, it looked like they started kicking people at the other end of the Sip Lounge out, to do afternoon Tea. I think he might have gotten through all of 15-20 people, when there were well over 50 who showed up to the event. Also, this was the only time I ever even saw The Charmer out and about the entire cruise.
Having those interactions was something we really missed from prior sailings, and perhaps we were just always in the wrong place at the wrong time, but they definitely didn't seem to have the presence they had onboard in the past.
Excursions
We did one excursion on this trip- in Cozumel we did the Snorkeling/Beach day/Cooking/Tequila Tasting, where they take you to a private beach/resort, have you snorkel off the beach, show you how to make a really tasty Guac, and let you taste some Tequila, all the while having a buffet for lunch and open bar. We had a very nice time on shore, and our guide was lots of fun. It wasn't terribly expensive as far as excursions go (about $80pp if I recall), and I'm very glad we did it. The only thing about it that gave me some pause- the description of the excursion specifically states that your price includes gratuities, yet the guide was specifically asking for tips. I didn't tip him as much as I normally would if gratuities weren't included, but it was just a little bit awkward.
We didn't do an excursion in Bimini, but were on the first tram to the beach, and spent the entire morning between swimming in the ocean and in the great pool they have at the resort. As always, Bimini was one of the highlights of the cruise, and was an absolute blast.
Our Takeaways
First off, if you read this far, WOW. I didn't realize this was going to be such a novel, but here we are! :D Overall my wife and I both had a great time on our cruise. The food was fantastic, most of the shows/events we went to were a blast, and as always on a VV cruise, we met and got to know a bunch of wonderful people, while relaxing and spending some quality time with each other. Our excursion in Cozumel and time in Bimini were wonderful.
That said, this is the first time we haven't put down a deposit on a future cruise. One of the places where we always saw so much value in sailing with VV, and a huge reason we were willing to pay the VV premium was the level of service on the ship, and on this sailing there were a lot of misses in that regard, and for the first time, we didn't feel like we got quite as much value out of what we paid for the cruise (because of what is important to us, YMMV). That's not to say we wont be sailing with VV again- its just that we want to watch how things trend, and how things settle out as the other ships come online and the various ship crews get used to more full ships. As I said ages ago in the beginning of my review- we really hope that this was just a one-off not-as-spectacular sailing for us.
I've seen others talk about how the Scarlet Lady has become the defacto "Training" ship, and from our experience this sailing, I wouldn't doubt it. While that is a reason, it is not an excuse. If that is what's going on I hope it is a temporary situation, as I don't think the quality of a sailor's cruise should be affected by what ship happens to be leaving port the dates they can sail. So here is to hoping that VV gets this all figured out soon, and the experience on ALL of their ships gets back to what it has been in the past.
Finally, I'll just say, if you find yourself on a cruise, and something the cruise line does is letting you down, don't let it ruin your trip. While we were disappointed in several aspects of the service, my wife and I were still able to fully enjoy our cruise, and specifically our time with each other. It was a special anniversary trip for us, and it would have been an absolute shame if we let the issues we had with VV's service ruin it. Instead we filed our issues away, continued to enjoy all the ship had to offer, and will use our experience to shape who/where we do our next cruise with, rather than letting it run the experience in the moment.
2023.05.27 17:15 BaronVonBroccoli Anon meets Maisie Williams.
 | submitted by BaronVonBroccoli to greentext [link] [comments] |