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acampinglife · 4 years

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RV Camping at Disney’s Fort Wilderness

If you’re like me, you hear the word “Disney” and you automatically get filled with a sense of excitement and magic! I mean they pay attention to every tiny detail and always manage to create a sense of adventure and wonderment. So, of course, Disney’s Fort Wilderness is no exception. After having spent some time there myself, I can say that it is definitely worth the trip.

Fort Wilderness Resort and Campground opened in November 1971. The resort has campsites and air-conditioned Wilderness Cabins situated on 750 acres of lush forest of pine and cypress trees. You will most likely see plenty of wildlife such as rabbits, deer, armadillos, ducks, geese, and peacocks roaming the grounds.

The campground has private sites and features all the amenities of other campgrounds, with quite a few Disney extras. It includes two heated pools that are open 24 hours a day, rental cabins, several restaurants and stores, a marina, playgrounds, tennis courts, horse and pony rides, a petting zoo, fishing, bike rentals, private carriage rides, and so much more.

To get you started, here are some tips to make sure you have a memorable stay at Fort Wilderness.

Be ready for the changing weather in Florida:

Since the campground is in Florida, it’s something the whole family can enjoy year-round. That being said, Florida’s weather can go from hot and humid to stormy—all in one day. Be ready for any type of weather by bringing shelter with bug netting (if you plan to eat outside), awning, and tarps for sudden downpours, and plenty of sunscreen.

Have a pet? Bring them along!:

Fort Wilderness is very pet-friendly and has a leash-free dog park. If you need to board your pet, the Best Friends Pet Care facility will take care of them while you visit the theme parks. For more information on pet policy, check it out here.

Rates and Sites:

First of all, to enjoy this fabulous adventure...you need an RV! We can help you with that part. We have many different RVs for you to choose from to fit your needs. All of them offer a luxurious camping experience; www.camperfunpass.com is where you start. Fort Wilderness has campsites for all sizes of RVs. Keep in mind, even with all those campsites, there are no pull-thru spots. So if you have a larger camper or trailer, you will need to back in.

The campground’s premium campsites are currently around $121 per night, versus a tent or pop-up camper site for around $78 per night. If you’re an annual passholder, you are eligible for significant discounts throughout the year. Availability varies and many times rates aren’t announced until three or four months in advance so keep an eye out.

Most sites are fairly secluded from one another by bushes and trees between sites. The campsites range in length from 25 to 60 feet. Each site is about 25 feet wide and comes with a picnic table and charcoal grill.

All sites have electricity (20/30/50 amps) and city water. There are certain full hookup sites that also provide sewer. There are also partial hookup sites, primarily used by tent campers and those with tent trailers. When

booking be sure to specify the RV’s length, if it has slide outs or awnings, and any other details about its size when making a reservation so the right sized campsite is assigned to you.

Things to bring:

Flashlight or lantern

Insect repellent

Charcoal and matches

Extension cord, rope or clothesline cord

Toolbox

Fire extinguisher

Hatchet/ax

Broom and dustpan

Trash bags

Outdoor rug

Water pressure regulator

Drinking water hose, gray water hose and holding container

Wheel chocks, leveling blocks

Roll of quarters for laundry, laundry detergent

And, of course, the keys!

Comfort Stations and Laundry Facilities:

There are a number of comfort stations located through the campground. The comfort stations are all air-conditioned and include private showers, restrooms, laundry rooms, phones, and ice machines. They are open 24 hours a day, with the exception of the laundry. The washers and dryers each cost $3. Vending machines for single-load laundry detergent, fabric softener and bleach cost about $1.

Getting around Fort Wilderness:

Unless you plan on walking endlessly all day to get to where you want to go in the campground, I highly recommend a golf cart, which we also rent out for your convenience. In case you forgot it’s...www.camperfunpass.com. Just a reminder, the campground is about 750 acres!

There are internal buses running within the campground to get you to the marina, the Trading Posts, pools, etc., but bus waits can be up to 20 minutes.

You gotta eat!:

Dining includes restaurants, dinner shows, and snack bars – all serving American food. Restaurant meals range from under $15 to $60 per person, based on the average Guest check, not including alcohol, tax and tip.

Crockett’s Tavern offers beverages and snacks such as pizza, quesadillas, etc.

Trail’s End Restaurant provides an all you can eat buffet for breakfast and dinner, a menu for lunch.

P and J’s Southern Take Out – carry-out items all day.

Chuck Wagon offers burgers, sandwiches, and salads to go.

Meadow Snack Bar offers salads, sandwiches, light snacks, and frozen treats to go.

Hoop Dee Doo Musical Revue an all-you-can-eat dinner show.

You won’t be bored with many more activities:

Tennis: Two lighted tennis courts with complimentary equipment available for resort guests at the Bike Barn, if you don’t want to bring your own.

Archery Experience: Whether newbie or expert, an archery guide at the Bike Barn offers training and tips on how to hit the bulls-eye!

Specialty Cruises: cruise around Bay Lake and the Seven Seas Lagoon with the option of ending with a view of the Magic Kingdom Fireworks.

Tri-Circle-D Ranch – offers guided trail rides on horseback. There’s also pony rides for children at least 2 years old, weighing no more than 80 pounds and no taller than 48 inches. They must be able to hold on by themselves.

Playgrounds -- Let the kiddos burn off some steam at outdoor activity areas located at Pioneer Hall, the Meadow Recreation area, Creekside Meadow and the Marina/Beach area.

Nightly Wagon Rides at Pioneer Hall. You can also book private carriage rides.

Bicycle, kayak, and canoe rentals.

Fishing in canals (free) or chartered largemouth bass fishing excursions on Bay Lake, which include a professional guide, refreshments (soft drinks, coffee, hot chocolate & water), fishing gear and bait.

Horseshoes and shuffleboard, basketball and tetherball courts

Arcades – Davy Crockett Arcade at Pioneer Hall (near Settlement Depot) and Daniel Boone Arcade (near Meadow Trading Post).

Two heated outdoor swimming pools.

Water skiing, wakeboarding, parasailing.

Swamp Trail – 3/4 mile loop along the shore of Bay Lake

Fort Wilderness Exercise Trail – 2.3 mile paved and sand path

For more information on all these activities, click here. The address for Fort Wilderness is at 4510 N. Ft. Wilderness Trail, Lake Buena Vista, FL 32830-1000. Phone is: 407-824-2900; Fax is: 407-824-3508.

I hope this helps you plan a magical Disney trip to Fort Wilderness! We know camping and RVs. If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to reach out to us...we’re friendly! www.camperfunpass.com or call us at 407-413-6854. Let’s plan your amazing adventure!

#rv rental #disney #fortwilderness #camp #camping #camperfunpass #traveltrailer #orlando #florida #campground #rv #camper

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erikismybitch · 6 years

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Part 1

Welcome home .

This city was called Nightland . A small place edging near the southern boot of the country. Humidity and fog conquered the air most seasons. The perfect place for the pale. Except for summer, the heat was unbearable in that time . She remembered everything so well, her name was Shanae. Born in Nightland to a creole mother and absent father.

Shanae, her name was French meaning “god is gracious “. Thia, her mother , named her this because the female ancestors before her all died during child birth . She survived, seeming to have broken one of the many curses placed upon her family . Thia was left with just an older sister, Toni, who stayed back in Nightland when Thia fled to another state . Just she and her precious Shanae. Both sisters tall, fair and beautiful. Shanae inherited all the beauty, and her brown skin from her father .

There was no turning back now . Shanaes lease was up and the plane ticket was a one way. The storage shipment was already paid in full. The company made sure to highlight the huge “no refunds “ policy on the receipt.

Now an adult, Shanae could hardly make ends meet in Washington DC. She didn’t finish college , and luckily landed an administrative position at a school . She figured she’d move back to Nightland and finish school there. Her aunt Toni died three months ago, leaving Shanae a small inheritance and her house. The money was enough for her to cover her bills for a while until she got things in order.

Most of her youth was spent here , summers always . Just the three of them in Toni’s big white House. There was a sun room where Shanae would indulge in her mother’s beignets and bacon. Her aunt Toni had the biggest bathroom in her room. The tub was so big that Shanae would put on goggles and pretend it was a pool. Her favorite part of the house was the wrap around porch. She would ride her pink bike in circles while her mom sat on the porch swing and watched her . Her dad was never in the picture , just in physical pictures that he left behind when he went to start his new family.

The summer of Shanae’s twelfth birthday, her mother went missing . By age thirteen she knew her mother was dead. Only death could keep her mother from her and it was the only explanation. All that was left to her mothers memory was a gold charmed bracelet . It never left Shanaes wrist .

This was only day one of this new life . The house was dusty , empty and cold from the fall weather . Shanae lit the bundle of sage and let the ambiance capture each room.

“I renounce all evil spirits, I renounce all evil spirits” she chanted over and over as she did her walk through . Once she reached Toni’s room she stopped . She kept a candled shrine with photos of all the ancestors to the right of her bed. Right in the center of the shrine was a big brown journal. A piece of paper was taped on the front .

“Shanae, prepare yourself “

It was written in Toni’s hand writing . She was no stranger to the journal . Her delicate fingers ran over the rough cover after she grabbed it. The book was somewhat of a family heirloom . The pages were filled generational sick remedies, stories of the past and most of all , theories of the supernatural. Yes, Shanae was a believer of the unknown . It’s how she was raised . Her aunt used to tell her stories about people in the town. And most of all to stay away from certain places .

“Don’t roam to where the cypress trees are too tall. All kinds of things lurk in the darkness , looking for special girls like you”

She thought about the things Toni spoke about . Her mother, not so much.

“Not everything is bad here , I like to give people chances” her mother would say .

“And that kind of talk is going to get Shanae in trouble one day!” Toni would argue with her sister . Shanae would usually fade into the distance and travel where her curiosity led her . She was much like her mother in that way. If Toni caught her near the tall trees or out in the darkness, she would spank her good . But still, it never stopped her .

Shanae glanced at the antique wall clock , it was broken so she found her phone . The evening time was approaching and she needed to find a store. Cleaning products were nonexistent , the fridge was empty and she needed bedding that didn’t belong to a dead woman . Her storage shipment wouldn’t arrive for two more days . She found a Walmart through google , then the keys to her aunts old powder blue thunderbird .

The Walmart was huge , and seemingly the mecca for this small town . It was packed like a party . She went inside and gathered a basketful of things she needed .

“Hey?” A voice spoke from the isle she was in, Shanae spotted a girl she once knew . “Remember me?” She asked.

“Oh my god, Daphne Ray!” Shanae said excitedly. Partly because she loved that southern people had two first names . She wished her mother would have given her a true name like that . The two girls embraced with a hug .

“What are you doing here , it’s been so long” Daphne’s southern accent was just as thick as she was.

“I moved back, my aunt left me her house so... I’m-here” Shanae stuttered, she hoped that Daphne wouldnt ask about her aunt... she didnt, everybody in town already knew. It was that small.

“Glad you’re back , think we can catch up ?” She asked , attempting to jump straight back into the friendship they shared years ago .

“Absolutely, just let me kno-“

“Girl, I’m off in fifteen minutes I can ride along with you “

Before Shanae could deny the eager request, Daphne ran off. Company wasn’t exactly what she wanted tonight , but it wouldn’t hurt to have someone to talk to . Friends had never really been Shanaes thing , she found comfort in her loneliness. Especially after her mother disappeared.

After Daphne rang her items up slowly , just to kill time , the two of them left together . It was a short drive back to “my aunts house” as Shanae kept saying . She still hadn’t gotten used to the fact that the house belonged to her now.

“I always liked to come here. This big ass house , big ass yard” Daphne admired the view from the drive way . The two of them got out of the car as she continued. “ My moms little apartment with six brothers , a sister , and three bedrooms” Daphne’s voice was filled with animosity. Shanae couldn’t figure out if it was towards her own mother or the fact that she didn’t grow up the way Shanae did . At least she still had a family .

“How are you?” Shanae asked , even with the significant shift in her life she still cared .

“Still living there “ she snapped quickly.

Shanaes mom and aunt forbid her from going to Daphne’s house as a kid. She always assumed it was because they were poor and lived in a bad neighborhood. She had no shame in admitting that her family was a bit stuck up . Little did Shanae know, she was forbidden with strong reason.

“Well, how’s John? “ Shanae wanted to shift the mood by asking about Daphne’s brother. She had six, but John was the only one that held significance .

“That’s funny you asked, he moved out a long time ago . I’m sure he’d be happy to hear you’re back “

John was her first teenage love, and the boy who took her virginity . Daphne told her that he hadn’t started a family yet and was probably waiting on her . Shanae laughed, she knew John had to be over her by now.

Her aunt Toni hated John so much.

“I see how he looks at you, stay away from his black ass!” Toni would always poke at his dark skin, fighting her own internal issues . His skin was the first thing that drew her niece to him. John was almost as dark as night, so was everyone in his family . Shanae thought he was so beautiful with his broad shoulders and ivory white smile . Unbeknownst to Toni , Shanae used to sneak out while he waited around the corner in his old pick-up truck . Like most companions in the south, he was much older than her. And to those of ignorance, they saw nothing wrong with it . John waited until she was sixteen to pursue her , he was just shy of twenty three. John took his time with her , molding her exactly the way he wanted . Especially when it came to sex, he taught her everything . How to ride him with confidence. The anatomy of his dick and what felt good to him. And most of all , never to fret when making eye contact .

“I’m sure he has better things to look forward to, rather than his ex-girlfriend from a long time ago “

“You’ll be surprised” Daphne assured her. Then she snuck a “can I stay over tonight?” Question in so swiftly , Shanae didn’t have time to contest . There were five rooms for her to choose from , but somehow she chose to sleep with Shanae like when they were children . She leased Daphne a pair of her aunts old pijamas, without telling her they were hers of course .

“You’re taking over your aunts old room, you don’t get creeped out ?” Daphne asked . They were in complete darkness , Shanae felt comfort in a dark room . Any source of light wouldn’t alow her to sleep at night .

“No, you know nothing scares me . If anything spirits protect us from the bad things” Shanae felt her friend shift from the other side of the king bed .

“Here you go with that spirit shit . You still into that stuff , huh ?”

“Yes, I’m still in to that stuff... it’s real Daphne “

She quieted down for a little while , just when Shanae thought she had found peace Daphne spoke again.

“Remember that book?”

“We used to read it and scare ourselves when we were little “ Shanae laughed and rose from the bed . She found the light then geared towards the shrine . She grabbed the brown journal her aunt left behind . Once Daphne saw what she was doing , her attention was at full .

“Wow, you still have it huh”

“Yes I still have it . And my children’s children will have it just so they can learn about spirits and shit” she mocked Daphnis words from earlier . She sat back on the bed , but this time she rested closely to Daphne. She opened the book to a random page . The eight letter word was written across the top of the withered page .

Vampires

“Absolutely not!” Daphne yelled as she read along with Shanae . She laughed at her reaction , folded the outer corner of the page and closed it .

“Let me read one small part!” She was excited , that part of the journal was yet to be discovered by her. She opened the book slowly , back to the same page .

“Just one sentence , I’m not having nightmares about vampires”

Shanae read a little bit of the passage before she spoke out loud . Something about the words cut her curiosity.

“We are the only few Marters that exist , vampires and others of darkness crave our blood because it is with the purest form”

“A Marter?” Shanae spoke out loud , more to herself than her friend . She had heard the term Marter before , she just couldn’t remember the context at the moment.

“Are you gonna read it ?” Daphne asked , she noticed the way she stalled .

“You’re right , I don’t wanna give you nightmares...” Shanae closed the book and let it rest on her night stand . They both traveled to their sides. Daphne’s mind filled with anger towards her early work shift tomorrow . Shanae on the other hand , went to sleep with unanswered questions.

#erik killmonger fanfiction #erik killmonger fanfic #erik killmonger imagine #black panther fanfic #black panther fanfiction

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lelewis9318-blog · 5 years

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Journal #2: FGCU Sustainability Efforts, Nature Trail Walk, and Ecological Footprint

After having our first field trip delayed by Hurricane Dorian, we finally had the chance to go on the FGCU Nature Trail walk. Before we went exploring, however, we took our class outside and learned more about our school and its local efforts to become as sustainable and environmentally-friendly as possible. This experience as a whole was extremely eye-opening and reminded me that we always have the chance to be kind to our Earth and be as green as possible.

FGCU’s Focus on Environmental Sustainability

At nine in the morning, we met at the bike racks in front of Marieb Hall. We were joined with one of our school’s naturalists, Savannah. As we stood in the courtyard, I thought how I had been here so many times before and that nothing seemed new to me. I eventually learned, however, that even though the environment was familiar, there was still so much I had yet to understand about our campus’s sustainability efforts. The naturalist led us around and showed us different features of the campus that promoted sustainability. The trash cans, for example, came in many varieties. Some were solar-powered and could compact the contents in order to create more space. Others had informative posters that let students know what they could recycle versus what they should throw away. One other feature of the trash cans that always had me curious was the small brown bags that were tied around and hung outside of some of the bins. These brown burlap sacks held crushed up cherry pits, and they were used to deter wildlife such as bugs and bees.

(FGCU trash systems, 2019)

This information regarding such seemingly mundane aspects of our campus intrigued me beyond no limit. The fact that FGCU put so much thought into the way that we treat our environment shows that it truly cares about protecting its local ecosystem. Beyond that, we also learned about Seidler Hall’s particularly remarkable sustainability features. Seidler Hall is LEED certified, which means that it contains high-performing and cost-effective features such as local sourced construction and efficient lighting. I always loved the atmosphere of Seidler Hall, particularly the beach-themed flooring, but once I found out about its green features, I appreciated it even more. Lastly, one of the major details of the university that I’m sure many students are unaware of is its air conditioning system. The naturalist explained that our campus uses a large chiller plant that blows air over ice at night to generate cool air. It is an expensive unit, but it is a great investment in being energy efficient. Many of the efforts that our university takes come at a great financial cost, but they end up being worth the money because they have a positive impact on the environment as well as the student’s conscientiousness towards being green.

(FGCU A/C unit, 2019)

Learning from the Natural Trail

After we ventured around our campus for a bit, it was time to enter the nature trail. We walked in the general direction of the SoVi community and stopped in front of the sign. I’d seen this sign so many times before when walking to class or when riding the bus, yet I’d never taken the time to consider what the trail would look like.

(Nature Trail entrance sign, 2019)

There were three different parts to our walk: the pine flatwoods, the oak hammock, and the cypress dome. Amongst these parts, there was also a section known as the ecotone, or a transitionary period from one point to another. It was a bit nerve-wracking to walk into the trail and immediately find myself splashing in water, but I tried to embrace it and understand it as part of the experience. Never before had I gone on a hike that involved shuffling through a swamp and stumbling over roots!

The Pine Flatwoods

When we started the walk, we immediately entered the Pine Flatwoods. It was a bit muddy, and the ground squelched beneath us as we walked. Considering that it was the highest elevation and the driest part of campus, it was a bit concerning to know we’d only get deeper in the water. The naturalist taught us some of the basic plant species, such as the Cabbage Palm, Rabbit’s Foot Fern, and the Saw Palmetto. It was amusing to learn that our state tree, the Cabbage Palm, was in fact not a tree. The Rabbit’s Foot Fern actually lives on other trees, and this is when we were taught the importance of the interdependence of the species. Different plants and animals would find different benefits from working together.

At one point, we did walk into a zone where there had clearly been fire damage on the trees. The naturalist explained that FGCU does not do prescribed burns but rather just mechanical burns that are used to take down the understory of an ecosystem. It is important to “refresh” an ecosystem in order to allow new growth to occur. It is especially important, on that note, to allow growth of native species rather than invasive ones. Campus naturalists like our guide would enter the nature trail to remove invasive species. One particular species, the Cesar Weed, was plentiful and easy to find.

(Pine flatwoods with burn indications, 2019)

(Cesar Weed, 2019)

The Oak Hammock

As we walked, I realized that the deeper we reached in the trail, the more I enjoyed the experience. The farther we walked, the quieter it became, and the more lush and tranquil the environment became. The Oak Hammock was the perfect balance between tall, green trees and swampy grounds. We were up to our knees in water. The naturalist explained that pioneers found this spot to be the most ideal place to settle due to its shade and coolness. The oak trees we tall and cast grand shadows over us. The water was also extremely relieving to be in compared to the hot, humid air. There was a high biodiversity in this area, which meant that there were large amounts of plant and animal species interacting. If you looked into the water, you could see Mosquito Fish skimming the surface. There were plenty of birds and bugs in the air. The more you paid attention to the nature, the more you could discover.

(Oak Hammock, 2019)

The Cypress Dome

The final stop on our trail was the Cypress Dome. It was a bit difficult to get there, as some of us stumbled and struggled against the high water level, but it was most certainly worth it. When we entered the Cypress Dome, it was exactly as its name states. The area is like a pond with large Cypress trees reaching into the air. It was absolutely silent besides the trees rustling and birds chirping. I could have stood there all day. This was by far my favorite stop on our trip. It was enjoyable to talk as a group and reflect on our observations together.

The wetland environment was perfect for keeping its nutrients in the area. The Cypress trees were adapted to the area. The bases of the trees, which are known as buttresses, keep them sturdy in the water. You could also tell that the air quality was impeccable due to the fact that lichen covered most of the trees. Lichen only grows in places with high air quality. Compared to places with high pollution rates, such as congested cities, this should be something that we treasure and protect. FGCU’s nature was being taken care of, and I was proud to be a part of the effort.

(Cypress Dome, 2019)

My Ecological Footprint

When I took the quiz to figure out my ecological footprint, I felt pretty confident that I would have a low score. I am a vegetarian, I don’t travel too much, and I eat locally-sourced food. However, my score did surprise me as it turns out it would take 1.8 Earths to sustain a population’s lifestyle like mine.

Judging by my answers, I’m assuming my major faults are in my living situation. I currently live in a small apartment by myself with appliances that I have no control over in terms of energy efficiency. I make sure to turn off lights when I don’t need them and unplug my appliances. I also try to recycle as much as I possibly can, though I will admit many products I use contain extra packaging that I end up having to throw away.

If I had to pick two different aspects of my life to change in order to optimize my ecological footprint, I would work on buying less non-reusable products and start supporting more eco-friendly brands. When I take notes, for instance, I could type them rather than using up paper. I should also start shopping at stores that sell environmentally-responsible brands. I would prefer to put extra research and money into finding greener items rather than continue buying from companies that aren't considerate of our planet.

Everything I learned this week, from the sustainable efforts my college is making on campus to the individual impacts my actions are having on the environment, have helped me understand that I need to take strides in this global strategy to sustain ourselves and our planet. This class has taught me so much already, and I am eager to learn more.

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reneeacaseyfl · 5 years

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Restaurant Review: Elysian Bar | Fortune

The Elysian Bar in New Orleans’ Marigny neighborhood occupies the 150-year-old rectory of Saints Peter & Paul. Set behind a gated garden of pygmy palms, the building is an inviting confection of brick and marzipan stucco. I don’t so much walk through the arched doorway as a magnetizing presence inside summons me forth, the single gas lantern flickering above my head like biblical tongues.

A long hallway stretches down the first floor of the former clergy quarters. There’s a snug coffee bar to the right. Two adjoining parlors to the left are lit and furnished for the sequel to Interview With the Vampire: ornately mantled fireplaces, cane chairs with crimson cushions, marble tables with legs shaped like sea serpents, eruptions of ferns and blood-purple flowers, body-length gold mirrors, bustled and billowing mustard drapes framing a burgundy gingham sofa like a theater stage. The dreamy space feels less like a restaurant than an exclusive house party you were invited to by mistake or as a cruel joke.

I pause by the entrance near a stack of menus, waiting for a host. There’s one on staff (management confirms later) but none appears, so I walk down the hallway. It’s difficult to tell the staff from the diners, but no one says hi or can I help you, so I keep going. The hall opens into a sunroom modeled after Monet’s dining room in Giverny, France. One door leads out to a brick courtyard, guarded by stained-glass saints watching from the 24-foot windows. Another doorway connects to the moody vermilion bar, whose cocktail menu showcases a grand tour of vermouths, including an Athenian rouge that smells like a bowl of vanilla and roses. I wait 10 minutes. Neither of the bartenders acknowledges me.

Hotel Peter and Paul’s rectory parlor. Courtesy of Hotel Peter and Paul

I backtrack to the foyer, where someone tells me to sit anywhere and “a server will be right over.” A server does not come right over. Then two do, a moment apart. The first takes my drink order and the second takes my food order, as if they were cocktail waitresses absentmindedly wandering the Harrah’s casino floor. Then Martha Wiggins materializes alongside my table, bearing a bowl of grilled okra and crispy, rice-floured-and-fried eggplant lashed with harissa, and the night starts looking up.

Rebirth

After she became a Popsicle tycoon but before she was a hotelier, People’s Pops founder Nathalie Jordi would pass the Peter & Paul compound—the schoolhouse, the rectory, the church, the convent—all closed more than a decade before she relocated to New Orleans from Brooklyn in 2009. “These buildings tower over the neighborhood,” she says. “They were dark and gloomy but still very beautiful.”

Jordi wanted to open a hotel in Marigny, but “much smaller and more modest” than the 71-key situation she wound up with: “I was aware of the [Peter & Paul buildings] but they just seemed out of my league because they were so big and required so much expensive renovation.” Partnering with design firm ASH NYC (the Dean in Providence, the Siren in Detroit) made the $20 million, four-year rehabilitation possible, and the Hotel Peter & Paul opened in October. The Elysian Bar, which is managed by the folks behind the Bywater smash Bacchanal, debuted a month later.

I wake up in a wrought-iron canopy bed, in an attractively monastic room at the foot of a dramatic wishbone-shaped cypress staircase in the old schoolhouse, thinking about that eggplant and okra. The tender vegetables were shellacked in fragrant, feisty pepper paste. Crème fraîche, fennel, and mint countered with cool touches. Black sesame seeds, whole cumin seeds, and peanuts made every bite crunch like Cracker Jacks.

The Elysian Bar inside Hotel Peter and Paul. Courtesy of Hotel Peter and Paul

Martha Wiggins, deliverer of the dish, is the chef de cuisine to Alex Harrell’s executive chef, and the two go way back. They cooked together at Sylvain and Angeline and have resumed their easy two-step at Elysian Bar, banging out an all-day menu featuring Southern produce and proteins on an international vacation. Huge, sweet, head-on prawns were plucked from the gulf, roasted, and bathed in fruity-hot Calabrian chile butter. Lacto-fermented corn blew up a mild-mannered cucumber salad with mini explosions of sugar, salt, and funk.

The grits were best I’ve eaten, a strain of red corn grown and dried by the Alabama coast, milled at Bellegarde Bakery in New Orleans, and finally simmered with milk and cream into a porridge as silky and beige as cappuccino foam. They came topped with a perfect poached egg, frizzled shallots, and mushrooms suspended in a barbecue-y tomato sauce, all delicious but ultimately unnecessary. These grits stand alone.

Laissez-faire

Elysian Bar’s eerie evening glamour abates in the sunlight. At 8:30 in the morning, when I shuffle across the hotel courtyard into the restaurant, the place feels like a mansion museum before the docents have arrived. There are no customers and no breakfast besides baked goods at the twee coffee bar—strange for a hotel restaurant. “The menu starts at 10:30,” says a dour barista, passing a cup of Congregation Coffee across the counter. She looks like she needs it more than I do.

I take the coffee for a walk around Marigny, where the houses are taffy-colored and the sidewalks cracked like Kit Kats. Trees turn whole blocks into canopied tunnels of greenery, and the air is thick with humidity and magnolias. There are worse places to wait for a restaurant to open.

I head back into Elysian Bar at 11 a.m. and, just like at dinner, there’s no staff to direct me. I wander into the sunroom, by daylight a country kaleidoscope of lemons and sapphires, and sit down. A server appears to inform me I have to order at the bar, and while I can order now, the kitchen won’t start serving food until 11:30. So I get up from my table, walk into the bar, place (and pay for) my order with the bartender. Nearly an hour later, the server then delivers that order to my table. Confused? Me too.

Inside the cafe at Hotel Peter and Paul. Courtesy of Hotel Peter and Paul

Harrell and Wiggins hold up their end of the deal again. The tannish-gray puck of sunchoke custard looks like something you’d use to grout bathroom tile, but it tastes purely of the creamy, nutty Jerusalem artichokes. A tangle of shaved asparagus, arugula, and radishes tossed in acidic, mustardy vinaigrette surrounds the custard like a green halo. Bourbon creates a subtle undercurrent of sweetness in the exquisite chicken liver pâté. Grilled sliced of wheat-y Bellegarde sourdough and tangy strawberry-beet mostarda accompany, and the three components eaten together harmonize like a choir.

The duck egg omelet is perfect. Made with Mississippi eggs and served with a well-dressed pile of arugula, it’s as yellow as a buttercup, pregnant with rich, runny triple-crème cheese, and not too wet or too dry. Chives and bowfin caviar bead the omelet’s sloping surface, adding balancing pops of salinity and allium heat to each luxurious forkful. I would eat this every day for breakfast and never get bored.

It’s afternoon—literally, after noon—when my “breakfast” is done. I see my server/not-server once during the meal. Because I’ve already paid, I can leave quickly, without saying goodbye.

Many people think the best thing a hotel restaurant can be is not a hotel restaurant. It’s much more valuable to be a place activated by locals, somewhere authentic, with genuinely good food and noncorporate ambiance. Elysian Bar has clearly achieved that. The smart cooking and evocative atmosphere make it a spectacular place to be, but for the guest who wants to belong to another city for one night, to feel welcomed and cared for, it’s only spectacular in how short it falls.

More must-read stories from Fortune:

—This restaurateur traded fine dining for Ben Franklin’s favorite milk cocktail

—Bar carts are back: How this revival is different

—Why Charleston’s food scene is stronger than ever right now

—Why this classic Israeli sandwich should be on your foodie to-do list

—Listen to our new audio briefing, Fortune 500 Daily

Follow Fortune on Flipboard to stay up-to-date on the latest news and analysis.

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peppidyme · 5 years

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“The Footsteps of Water” by Sohrab Sepehri (1964)

Today my Maman read me this poem in farsi:

I am a native of Kashan1 My days are not so bad. I own a loaf of bread, a bit of intelligence, a tiny bit of taste. I possess a mother better than the leaves of trees. Friends, better than the water of a running brook.

And a God who is this near: Within these gillyflowers, beneath that tall pine tree, Hovering above the awareness of water, above the Law of Foliage.

I am Muslim. My qiblah2 is a red rose. My praying spot is a spring, my prayer stone is light. Plains are my praying mat. I make ablution with the heartbeat of windows. In my prayer flows the Moon, flow the colors of the spectrum. Stones are visible from behind my prayer: Crystallized are all the particles of my prayer. I do my prayer when, Its athan3 wind, from a cypress tree’s minaret, has sung. I do my prayer to grass’s saying “God is the Greatest” To the iqama4 of waves.

My Kabaa5 is by the lip of the brook, My Kabaa is under the acacias. My Kabaa like the breeze, blows from garden to garden, from town to town.

My Black Stone6 is the brilliance of the garden.

I’m a native of Kashan. My craft is painting: Now and then I build a cage with paint, sell it to you So that with the song of poppies that is imprisoned in it The heart of your loneliness may cheer up. What a dream, what a dream…I know My canvas is lifeless. I know well, my painting basin contains no fishes.

I’m a native of Kashan. My descent perhaps goes back To a plant in India, to an earthen vase from the soil of Sialk7 My descent perhaps goes back to a prostitute in the city of Bukhara8.

My father behind two migrations of swallows, behind two snowfalls, My father behind twice sleeping in the veranda, My father behind eras has died. My father died when the sky was blue, My mother jumped from sleep unaware, my sister became beautiful. My father died when the policemen were all poets. The grocer asked me, “How many melons do you want?” I asked him, “How much is a happy heart?”

My father used to paint. He used to make tars9, played the tar too. He also had a nice handwriting.

Our garden stood on the side of the shadow of wisdom. Our garden was the interweaving place of feeling and plants, Our garden was the meeting point of a glance, a cage and a mirror . Our garden was perhaps, an arc of the green circle of happiness. The unripe fruit of God on that day, I used to chew in sleep. Water I used to drink without philosophy Berries, I used to pick without knowledge. As soon as a pomegranate used to crack, hands turned to fountains of desire. As soon as a cello used to sing, the chest burnt from a longing to hear. Sometimes loneliness used to stick its face to the windowpane. Passion used to come, and put its arms around the neck of sense. The mind, used to play. Life was something, like a rainfall during Eid, like a plane tree full of starlings. Life at that time, was a line up of light and dolls, It was an armful of liberty. Life at that time, was a music basin.

The child, slowly, walked away along the alley of dragonflies. I packed my things, went out of the city of carefree fancies With my heart filled with homesickness for dragonflies.

I went to the party thrown by the world: I, to the field of grief, I, to the garden of mysticism, I, to the illuminated veranda of knowledge, went. I climbed up the stairs of religion. To the end of the alleyway of doubt, To the cool air of self-sufficiency, To the wet night of love and affection. I went to see someone who was at the other side of love. I went, I went until women, Until the lantern of pleasure, Until the silence of desire, Until the flapping sound of the wings of loneliness.

I saw things on the face of the Earth: I saw a child who was smelling the Moon. I saw a door-less cage in which brilliance was flapping its wings. I saw a ladder on which love ascended to the roof of heaven. I saw a woman who was pounding light in a mortar. Lunch on their table was bread, was vegetables, was the distance of dew, was the hot bowl of affection.

I saw a beggar who was walking door to door begging for the song of a lark And a sweeper who was praying to the rind of a melon.

I saw a lamb that was eating a kite. I saw a donkey who understood hay. In the meadow of Advice I saw a cow, satiated.

I saw a poet who, when he talked, he addressed a lily as “Your Highness.”

I saw a book, its words all of the make of crystal. I saw a sheet of paper, of the make of spring, I saw a museum far away from grass, A mosque far away from water. Above the bed of a hopeless scholar, I saw a vase, overflowing with questions.

I saw a mule whose burden was Essays. I saw a camel whose burden was the empty basket of Proverbs. I saw a mystic whose burden was tanana ha ya hoo10

I saw a train that was carrying brilliance. I saw a train that was carrying knowledge and so torrentially it went. I saw a train that was carrying politics (and so emptily it went.) I saw a train that was carrying seeds of lotus and the song of canaries. And an airplane, which on that height of thousands of feet, through its windows the soil was visible: the topknot of hoopoes, The spots of a butterfly’s wings, A frog’s reflection in a pond, And the passage of a fly from the alleyway of loneliness. The clear desire of a sparrow, when from a plane tree it comes toward the ground. And the maturation of the Sun. And the beautiful love making of a doll with the morning.

Stairs that ascended to the greenhouse of lust. Stairs that descended to the cellar of alcohol. Stairs that ran to the Law of Corruption of Red Roses And toward the understanding of Mathematics of Life, Stairs that ran to the roof of enlightenment, Stairs that ran to the platform of manifestation.

My mother down there, Was washing the cups in the stream’s memory.

The city was visible: The geometrical growth of cement, steel, stones. The pigeonless roofs of hundreds of buses. A florist was putting up his flowers for sale. Between two jasmine trees a poet was hanging a swing. A boy was throwing stones at the wall of School. A child was spitting plum stones upon dad’s faded praying mat. And a goat was drinking water from the Caspian Sea of a map.

A laundry-line was visible, a restless brassiere.

The wheel of a cart longing for the horse to become weary, The horse longing for the carter to sleep, The carter longing for death.

Love was visible, waves were visible, Snow was visible, friendship was visible. Words were visible. Water was visible, and the reflection of things in water. The cool shade of cells in the heat of blood. The moist side of life, The east of sorrow in the human heart. The season of drifting in the alley of women. The scent of solitude in the alley of seasons.

A fan was visible in the hand of summer.

The seed’s journey to flowering. The ivy’s journey from this house to that house. The moon’s journey into the pond. The eruption of flowers of regret from the soil. The falling of young vine from the wall. The raining of dewdrops on the bridge of sleep. The leaping of joy from the ditch of death. The passing of events behind words.

The battle of a pit with the light’s desire. The battle of a stair with the long leg of the Sun. The battle of solitude with a melody. The beautiful battle of pears with the emptiness of a basket. The bloody battle of pomegranates with the jaws. The battle of Nazis with branches of delicacy. The battle of a parrot and eloquence. The battle of the forehead with the coldness of prayer-stones.

The attack of the mosque tiles on prostration. The attack of wind on the ascension of soap bubbles. The attack of the army of butterflies on the program of Pest Control. The attack of dragonflies on the class of pipelayers. The attack of reed pens on leaden letters. The attack of a word on a poet’s jaw.

The opening of a century by a poem. The opening of a garden by a starling. The opening of an alley by an exchange of greetings. The opening of a town on the hands of three or four wooden horsemen. The opening of a New Year by two dolls, one ball.

The murder of a ratchet on the mattress in the afternoon. The murder of a story at the entrance of the alley of sleep. The murder of a worry by the instruction of songs. The murder of moonlight by the command of neon lights. The murder of an oak tree by the hands of government. The murder of a depressed poet by a chimonanthus11.

All was visible on the surface of the earth: Order was walking in the alley of Greece. An owl was howling in the Hanging Gardens12. The wind was blowing a sheaf of history’s straws on Khyber Pass13 towards the east On the serene lake of Neghin, a boat was carrying flowers. In Banares14, at the entrance of each alley an eternal lamp was burning.

Peoples I saw. Towns I saw. Plains, mountains I saw. Water I saw, soil I saw. Light and darkness I saw. And plants in light and plants in darkness I saw. Creatures in light, creatures in darkness I saw. And humans in light, and humans in darkness I saw.

I’m a native of Kashan, but My city is not Kashan. My city is lost. I, with endurance. I, with fever, Have built a house on the other side of nighttime. In this home I am close to the humid anonymity of grass. I hear the sound of the breathing of the garden. And the sound of darkness, when it drops from a leaf. And the sound of brightness, coughing from behind a tree, The sneezing of water from every crack of rock, The dripping of swallows from the ceiling of spring. And the clear sound of opening and closing of the window of loneliness. And the pure sound of the mysterious moulting of love, The concentration of the passion for soaring in wings And the cracking of the soul’s self-restraint. I hear the footsteps of longing, And the methodical footsteps of blood in the veins, The pulsing of the dawn of the pigeons’ well, The beating of the heart of Friday night,

The flowing of carnations through thoughts, The pure neighing of truth from afar. I can hear the sound of the blowing of matter, And the sound of the shoe of faith in the alley of excitement. And the sound of rainfall on the wet eyelids of love, On the sad music of adolescence, On the song of pomegranate orchards. And the sound of the shattering of the bottle of joy at night, The tearing of the paper of beauty, And the wind filling and emptying the cup of nostalgia.

I am near to the start of the Earth. I take the pulse of flowers. I am familiar with the wet fate of water, the green habit of trees.

My soul is flowing in the new direction of things. My soul is young. My soul sometimes, from excitement, gets a cough. My soul is jobless: Raindrops, the cracks in bricks, it counts. My soul sometimes is as real as a stone on the road.

I didn’t see two poplars in enmity. I didn’t see a willow selling its shade to the ground. For free it offers, the willow its branch to the crow. My passion blossoms wherever a leaf exists. A poppy bush has bathed me in the surge of being.

Like the wings of insects I know the weight of dawn. Like a vase, I listen to the music of growth. Like a basketful of fruit, I have strong fever for ripening. Like a tavern, I stand on the border of languor. Like a building at the lip of the sea I am anxious about the high eternal waves.

Sunshine as much as you want, union as much as you want, increase as much as you want.

I am content with an apple And with smelling a chamomile bush. I with a mirror—a pure connection—am content. I will not laugh if a balloon bursts, And I will not laugh if a philosophy halves the Moon. I know the sound of the flapping of a quail’s wings, The colors of a bustard’s belly, the footprints of a mountain goat. I know well where rhubarbs grow, When starlings come, when partridges sing, when falcons die, What the Moon is in the dream of a desert, Death in the stem of desire, And the raspberries of pleasure, in the jaws of love-making.

Life is a lovely ritual. Life has wings as vast as death, It has a leap the size of love. Life is not something that, on the windowsill of habit, to be left forgotten by you and me. Life is the rapture of a hand that reaps. Life is the first black fig in the acrid mouth of summer. Life is the dimensions of a tree from the eyes of an insect. Life is the experience that a bat has in the dark. Life is the homesickness that a migrating bird feels. Life is the whistle of a train that turns through the dream of a bridge. Life is observing a garden from the obstructed windows of an airplane. It is the news of the launch of a rocket into space, Touching the loneliness of the Moon, The notion of smelling a flower on another planet.

Life is the washing of a plate.

Life is finding a penny in the brook of the street. Life is the square root of a mirror. Life is a flower to the power of eternity. Life is the Earth multiplied by our heartbeats. Life is the simple and monotonous geometry of breaths.

Wherever I am, so let me be, The sky is mine. The window, thinking, air, love, the Earth are mine. What importance does it have then, Sometimes if they grow, Mushrooms of nostalgia?

I, don’t know, Why some say, “Horses are noble animals, pigeons are beautiful.” And why there is no vulture in any person’s birdcage. What do clovers lack that red tulips have? Eyes should be washed, in another way we should see. Words should be washed. A word in itself should be the wind, a word in itself should be the rain.

Umbrellas we should shut. In the rain we should walk. Thoughts, and recollections, should be carried in the rain. With all the people of the town, in the rain we should walk. A friend, in the rain we should call on. Love, we should seek in the rain. In the rain we should sleep with women. In the rain we should play. In the rain we should write things, speak, plant lotuses. Getting drenched from time to time, Swimming in the pond of right now, is what life is.

Let us undress: Water is one foot away.

Let us taste brilliance. Weigh the night of a village, the sleep of a deer. Let us feel the warmth of a stork’s nest, Tread not on the Law of Lawn, Loosen the knot of tasting in the vineyard. And open our mouthes if the Moon emerges. And not say that night is a bad thing. And not say that the shining moon is unaware of a garden’s eyesight.

And Let us bring baskets. Take all this red, all this green.

Let us have bread and cheese in the mornings. And plant a sapling at every turn of a sentence. And pour the seed of silence between two syllables. Let us not read a book in which the wind doesn’t blow, And a book in which the surface of dew is not wet, And a book in which cells don’t have dimensions. Let us not wish the mosquito would fly off the fingertip of nature. And not wish that the leopard would go out of the door of creation. And let us understand that if worms didn’t exist, life would have lacked something. And if caterpillars didn’t exist, the Law of Trees would have suffered a blow. And if death didn’t exist, our hands would have sought something. And let us know if light didn’t exist, the living logic of flying would have gone astray. And let us know that before corals, a void was being felt in the thoughts of the seas.

And let us not ask where we are, Let us smell the fresh petunias of the hospital.

And let us not ask where the fountain of luck is. And let us not ask why the heart of truth is blue. And let us not ask what breezes, what nights the fathers of our fathers enjoyed.

Behind our backs there isn’t a thriving space. Behind our backs no bird sings. Behind our backs no wind blows. Behind our backs the green window of poplars is closed. Behind our backs dust has settled over the whirligigs. Behind our backs what there is is the weariness of history. Behind our backs the memory of waves throws cold shells of silence on the coast.

Let us go to the lip of the sea, Cast nets, And catch freshness from the water.

Let us pick up a pebble from the ground, And feel the weight of existence.

Let us curse not the Moonlight if we have fever, (Sometimes I have seen in fever, the moon descends, The hand can touch the ceiling of heaven. I have noticed that the goldfinch sings better. Sometimes a wound that I have had under my food, Has taught me the ups and downs of the ground. Sometimes in my sickbed the size of a flower has multiplied, And increased it has, the diameter of an orange, the radius of a lantern.) And let us not fear death. (Death is not the end of the pigeon. Death is not a cricket’s inversion. Death flows in the soul of acacias. Death has a seat in the pleasant climate of thinking. Death in the spirit of the village’s night speaks of morning. Death with a bunch of grapes comes into the mouth. Death sings in the red larynx of the throat. Death is responsible for the beauty of a butterfly’s wings. Death sometimes picks basil. Death sometimes drinks vodka. Sometimes it is in the shade watching us. And we all know, The lungs of pleasure, are full of the oxygen of death.)

Let us not shut the door on the alive speech of appreciation which we hear from behind the wattled twigs of sound.

Let us remove the curtain: Let us allow feeling to get some fresh air. Let us allow adolescence to dwell under any bush it wishes. Let us allow instinct to play. To take off its shoes and following the seasons, leap on the flowers. Let us allow solitude to sing. To write things. To go to the street.

Let us be simple. Let us be simple whether at a teller’s window or under a tree.

It is not our job, discovering the secret of the red rose, Our job maybe is To, in the charm of the red rose, become swimmers. To camp behind wisdom. To wash hands in the rapture of a tree leaf before sitting at the dining table. In the mornings when the sun, rises let us get born again. Let us let our excitements fly. Let us upon the perception of space, color, sound and the window sprinkle water . Let the sky settle between two syllables of existence. Let us fill and empty our lungs with eternity. Take the load of knowledge off the shoulders of the swallow. Let us reclaim the name from clouds, From plane trees, from mosquitos, from summer. On the wet feet of rain let us climb to the heights of compassion. Let us open the door on mankind, light, plants and insects.

Our job maybe is Between the lotus flower and the century To run after the song of truth.

Kashan, village of Chenar (plane tree), summer of 1343 (1964) Translated from Persian by Ikram Hawramani, Slêmanî, Iraq, 2008.

Please note that some of the translations might be too literal and may fail to transmit the poetic significance of the poet’s word and phrase choices.

Footnotes

A city in the province of Isfahan, Iran.

The direction that should be faced when a Muslim prays during salah.

The call to prayer.

The second call to Islamic Prayer, given immediately before the prayer begins.

The Kaaba, also referred as Al Kaaba Al Musharrafah, is a building at the center of Islam’s most sacred mosque, Al-Masjid al-Haram, in Mecca, al-Hejaz, Saudi Arabia.

A Muslim relic held in the Kaaba.

A large ancient archeological site (a tepe or Persian tappeh, “hill” or “mound”) in a suburb of the city of Kashan, close to Fin Garden.

Bukhara (Persian: بُ), is the capital of the Bukhara Province of Uzbekistan.

The tār (Persian: تار) is a long-necked, waisted Iranian musical instrument.

A Sufi chant.

Chimonanthus is a genus of flowering plants in the family Calycanthaceae, endemic to China. It is also grown in Iran.

Refers to the Hanging Gardens of Babylon, considered to be one of the original Seven Wonders of the Ancient World.

The Khyber Pass is a mountain pass connecting Afghanistan and Pakistan, cutting through the northeastern part of the Spin Ghar mountains.

Banares refers to Varanasi, a city in Uttar Pradesh, India

#sohrab sepehri #iran #persian #persian poetry #persian poem #poem #welovetheearth earthday nature intune

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scrapeandscatter · 7 years

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youtube

Random Start: Bloodlet - “Learn to Fly: Ascent”

Though Seraphim Fall was decent, I was already wary of Bloodlet slimming down to one guitarist, but announcing they were reuniting without Charlie King on drums drew even more cause for concern. Then this opening track on Three Humid Nights... opens with Scott Angelacos singing instead of his tortured screams. At first I thought I was being exposed to too much change, but, after a chorus of Scott’s typical vocals, the second verse of singing wasn’t as jarring. I’m not saying this record is the pinnacle of Bloodlet, but I was happy they released some more music before calling it a day (sans a reunion show).

Listen to Three Humid Nights in the Cypress Trees on Spotify

#random start #Bloodlet #metalcore #evilcore #metallic hardcore

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metalindex-hu · 4 years

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HÍR: Darkest Hour: 25. születésnapját ünnepli a metalcore csapat a Dürer Kertben

HÍR: Darkest Hour: 25. születésnapját ünnepli a metalcore csapat a Dürer Kertben - http://metalindex.hu/2020/01/02/hir-darkest-hour-25-szuletesnapjat-unnepli-a-metalcore-csapat-a-durer-kertben/ -

Január 29-én érkezik Budapestre a fennállásának 25. évfordulóját ünneplő Darkest Hour. Erős bulinak nézünk elébe, hiszen a Washingtonból érkező csapaton kívül még négy zenekar játszik majd a Dürer Kert színpadán: a progresszív death metal műfajban tevékenykedő Fallujah, a hardcore punk stílusú Bloodlet, a komor metalcore-ban utazó Une Misère és a csépelős hardcore nótákat játszó Lowest Creature.

A kilencvenes évek közepén a punk/metal/hardcore mozgalomból született a Darkest Hour, amely az említett műfajokra jellemző energiát a speed/thrash/death metal sebességével és dühével vegyítve hozott létre egy teljesen új zenei irányzatot a tengerentúlon: ők az amerikai modern metalcore úttörői, akiknek lényegében az újhullámos amerikai metalt köszönhetjük. Ez az új stílus a nyolcvanas évek nyers, kemény punkjából táplálkozott, de a kilencvenes évek skandináv death metalja is hatással volt rá.

A banda összesen 9 lemezt adott ki az elmúlt 25 évben és szerte a világon turnézott; a 7 kontinensből 6-ot már kipipálhatnak. Sok zenekar adta fel időközben, a Darkest Hour viszont olyan erős rajongói bázissal rendelkezik, amely ennyi év után is lehetővé teszi, hogy töretlenül haladjanak előre. Erre remek példa a 2017-es Godless Prophets & the Migrant Flora című lemez, amelyet crowdfundinggal, azaz közösségi finanszírozás segítségével adott ki és terjesztett a banda. Az album igazi metal klasszikusnak számít, melynek célja, hogy megszilárdítsa a Darkest Hour örökségét. Nyers, zeneileg összetett, dallamos, precíz anyag lett a végeredmény, amiről biztosan hallhatunk majd pár dalt a januári koncerten. Az Enter Oblivion című szám videóját itt nézhetjük meg: https://youtu.be/IdqOoHwht_E

Ezen az estén a kaliforniai Fallujah is tiszteletét teszi; a csapat nemrég hozta ki az Undying Light című lemezét, amely egy nagy ugrás előre, hiszen ezen a korongon már az új énekes, Antonio Palermo énekel. Bár az előző, Dreamless című lemezük is nagy sikert aratott, az új anyag semmiképpen sem annak a folytatása. „Az Undying Light dalai nyersek, magabiztosak és újak” – mondta a gitáros-dalszerző Scott Carstairs. – „A legutóbbi pár albumnál sok időt töltöttünk kísérletezéssel, például tiszta vendégénekkel, szintetizátorokkal, vagy különböző instrumentális elemekkel. Most már az elejétől fogva tudtuk, hogy ennek a lemeznek nyersnek és őszintének kell lennie.” A csapat Ultraviolet című videóját itt láthatjuk: https://youtu.be/qS-bPdlbqd8

A floridai hardcore punk színtér képviselőjeként lép színpadra a Bloodlet, ami 1992-ben alakult. Zenéjükben a metalcore elemei is felfedezhetők, melyek keverednek egy kis sludge metallal; nagy hatással volt a banda a kilencvenes évek underground hardcore színterére és létrehozott egy olyan mintát, amelyet más metalcore zenekarok is nagy sikerrel használtak utánuk. A Bloodlet életében ezután bekövetkezett egy hosszabb csend: a tagok szétszóródtak és csak 3 évvel később, 2001-ben kezdtek el újra próbálni. Ekkor született a Three Humid Nights In The Cypress Trees című lemez, amit mindössze 9 nap alatt vettek fel. A végeredmény egy nyers, gonosz metalcore album, amelyet a paranoia, a konfrontáció és a megvilágosodás táplál. A zenekar azóta nem hozott ki teljes hosszúságú albumot, csak az első lemezüket, az Entheogent adták ki újra, továbbá egy limitált live albumot és egy 1994-ben felvett, elfeledett dalt, az Embrace-t. A csapat egy régi klasszikusa itt látható: https://youtu.be/vEmAHTJlCxs

Vendégként érkezik a bulira a 2016-ban alakult izlandi Une Misère, akiket onnan ismerhetünk, hogy megnyerték a 2017-es izlandi Wacken Metal Battle tehetségkutatót. A csapat novemberben adta ki a Sermon című debütáló lemezét a Nuclear Blast gondozásában. Műfajukat nehéz meghatározni; valahol a black metal elemekkel vegyített hardcore és az agresszív metal között mozognak. A zenekar tagjai mind más-más műfajok rajongói, így jöhetett létre ez az izgalmas fúzió, ami élőben hatalmas feszültséget képes felépíteni. Koncertjeik nem csak szimpla koncertek, hanem a zenei művészet és érzelem őszinte megnyilvánulásai. A Sermon videója nemrég jelent meg: https://youtu.be/5Ox7sCuQftY

Az estét a svéd Lowest Creature nyitja majd, akik a májusi debütáló lemezüket, a Sacrilegious Paint hozzák el a bulira. A csapat a nyolcvanas évek thrash metalját keveri a hardcore pusztító erejével, amely a szövegekkel kiegészülve egy rosszindulatú és könyörtelen világot fest le. A banda a 2013-as megalakulás óta főként Európában turnézik és számos kiadványuk jelent már meg az első teljes hosszúságú albumuk előtt. Az új lemez címadó dalát itt hallgathatjuk meg: https://youtu.be/R5sFmPpk78o

A CONCERTO Music bemutatja: DARKEST HOUR 25th ANNIVERSARY TOUR 2020 2020. január 29., szerda 18 óra Budapest, Dürer Kert Darkest Hour, Fallujah, Bloodlet, Une Misere, Lowest Creature koncertek Belépő: early bird jegyek 4900 Ft, elővételben 5900 Ft, a koncert napján 6500 Ft Jegyek kaphatók Jegyek kaphatók a Ticketportal hálózatában és a www.tixa.hu weboldalon, valamint a CD Pince és Headbanger üzletekben, és a Dürer Kertben.

Kapcsolódó weboldalak: https://concerto.hu http://officialdarkesthour.com http://fallujah.bandcamp.com https://www.unemisere.com https://lowestcreaturehc.bandcamp.com

https://www.facebook.com/concertoconcerts https://www.facebook.com/events/2141151896188616

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thegramlich · 10 years

Audio

"I must have blacked out; I doubled-up on my meds. You see I have such a hard time making new friends."

#bloodlet #I have such a hard time making new friends #Three Humid Nights In The Cypress Trees

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ymonrde-blog · 13 years

Text

Three humid nights in the cypress trees

Various Artists mp3 download

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Three humid nights in the cypress trees album:

Artist - Various Artists mp3

Album - Three humid nights in the cypress trees mp3

Year - 2002

Genre- Other

Tracks:

Vision Quest

The Way Of The Will

The Way Of The Knife

Three Humid Nights In The Cypress Trees

Learn To Fly Impact

Holy Rollin' Homicide

Motel Surgery

I Have Such A Hard Time Making New Friends

Worms

Learn To Fly - Ascent

Learn To Fly - Descent

The Way Of The Leeches

Download Three humid nights in the cypress trees

After several years on hiatus, BLOODLET are back, once again opening your mind with their noisy guitar riffs, bass. Victory Records - Bloodlet: Three Humid Nights In The Cypress Trees Bloodlet: Three Humid Nights In The Cypress Trees CD. Amazon.com: Three Humid Nights in the Cypress Trees: Bloodlet: Music After a several year hiatus, Bloodlet are back to blow your mind with heavy, complex guitar riffs that drill through you like a diamond-studded bit and blood-curdling. Three Humid Nights in the Cypress Trees by Bloodlet - CD (2002) for $8.73 from OLDIES.com Heavy Metal - Order by Phone 1-800-336-4627 Bloodlet - Three Humid Nights In The Cypress Trees CD Album Bloodlet - Three Humid Nights In The Cypress Trees music CD album $9.35 in stock at CD Universe, Three Humid Nights in the Cypress Trees, Bloodlet's triumphant. Three Humid Nights in the Cypress Trees * (2002): Compare Prices. Bloodlet. Artist. Three Humid Nights in the Cypress Trees - Bloodlet | AllMusic Three Humid Nights in the Cypress Trees ,. Brothers In Crime: Bloodlet - Three Humid Nights In The Cypress Trees (2002) - Your blog description here Bloodlet -Three Humid Nights in the Cypress Trees - Victory Records Bloodlet-Three Humid Nights in the Cypress Trees 2002/ 41:55 Minutes / 12 Tracks / Studio Release Date: June 4, 2002 - Victory Records Produced by: Bloodlet and Steve Albini. Buy Three Humid Nights In the Cypress Trees for just $9.99

#Three humid nights in the cypress trees #Various Artists

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obycti-blog · 13 years

Text

Various Artists | Three humid nights in the cypress trees

Various Artists mp3 download

DOWNLOAD

Three humid nights in the cypress trees album:

Artist - Various Artists mp3

Album - Three humid nights in the cypress trees mp3

Year - 2002

Genre- Other

Tracks:

Learn To Fly - Ascent

The Way Of The Leeches

I Have Such A Hard Time Making New Friends

Vision Quest

Holy Rollin' Homicide

Learn To Fly - Descent

The Way Of The Will

Three Humid Nights In The Cypress Trees

Worms

Motel Surgery

Learn To Fly Impact

The Way Of The Knife

Download Three humid nights in the cypress trees

After several years on hiatus, BLOODLET are back, once again opening your mind with their noisy guitar riffs, bass. Bloodlet - Three Humid Nights In The Cypress Trees Lyrics Three Humid Nights In The Cypress Trees Lyrics - Father time goes wandering around with alzheimers head While she lay in bed strung out and bleeding Which came first. Three Humid Nights in the Cypress Trees * (2002) - 3 Sellers Found - Lowest Price: $5.26 - Format: CD Bloodlet - Three humid nights in the cypress trees Lyrics Bloodlet - Three humid nights in the cypress trees Lyrics, Soundtrack Lyrics Bloodlet - Three Humid Nights In The Cypress Trees CD Album Bloodlet - Three Humid Nights In The Cypress Trees music CD album $9.35 in stock at CD Universe, Three Humid Nights in the Cypress Trees, Bloodlet's triumphant. Bloodlet -Three Humid Nights in the Cypress Trees - Victory Records Bloodlet-Three Humid Nights in the Cypress Trees 2002/ 41:55 Minutes / 12 Tracks / Studio Release Date: June 4, 2002 - Victory Records Produced by: Bloodlet and Steve Albini Bloodlet : Three Humid Nights in the Cypress Trees - CDs (2002. Three Humid Nights in the Cypress Trees * (2002): Compare Prices. Amazon.com: Three Humid Nights in the Cypress Trees: Bloodlet: Music After a several year hiatus, Bloodlet are back to blow your mind with heavy, complex guitar riffs that drill through you like a diamond-studded bit and blood-curdling. . Preview and download songs from Three Humid Nights In the Cypress Trees by Bloodlet on iTunes. Buy Three Humid Nights In the Cypress Trees for just $9.99. Three Humid Nights In the Cypress Trees by Bloodlet - Download

song Bump! Bump! (Booty Shake) - 740 Boyz download Finding Neverland | Jan A.P. Kaczmarek

#Three humid nights in the cypress trees #Various Artists

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metalindex-hu · 4 years

Text

Darkest Hour – 25. születésnapját ünnepli a metalcore csapat a Dürer Kertben

Darkest Hour – 25. születésnapját ünnepli a metalcore csapat a Dürer Kertben - https://metalindex.hu/2020/01/02/darkest-hour-25-szuletesnapjat-unnepli-a-metalcore-csapat-a-durer-kertben-3/ -

Kapcsolódó weboldalak: https://concerto.hu http://officialdarkesthour.com http://fallujah.bandcamp.com https://www.unemisere.com https://lowestcreaturehc.bandcamp.com

https://www.facebook.com/concertoconcerts https://www.facebook.com/events/2141151896188616

#Koncertek #bulik

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