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omniswords · 4 years

Text

Chronicles of a Parisian Dumbass 9

pictured: me crawling out of the rubble after yet another set of wisdom tooth extractions

STILL ALIVE, SOMEHOW

anyway, enjoy this update! things have been a bit slow going between this and another project that i haven't started posting yet (along with a brainworm for a different fandom entirely orz), but i'm committed to seeing these stories to the end, don't worry 💙🎶💖

she’s… gone? CBG is gone?

wait hold up, we’re going on a pre-other-job adventure. if you could even call it an adventure.

No, it’s no mistake. Marinette’s not the one standing at the counter this morning. In fact—judging from how much he can see from peering through the window in a totally-not-creepy way—she’s nowhere to be found. Mr. Dupain is there, as faithful to the shop as his apron and his hands are covered in flour. But this time it’s Mrs. Cheng at the register, kissing the top of her husband’s head when he bends it to her and inviting Luka in with a single gesture when she meets his eyes.

Well, now he has to go in.

He tries with every fiber in him to mask his disappointment while he locks up his bike and slips into the bakery-patisserie, and he hangs by the door until she’s finished with a customer and beckons him closer. “Good morning, Luka!” she chirps, and it’s in that moment that he sees all the traces of her daughter in her. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it? Can I get you the usual?”

Luka gives her a mute smile and a nod, and he awkwardly rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, I guess it has.” Three weeks? Has it really been three weeks? “I heard you went out of the country? How was it?”

“It was nice,” Mrs. Cheng says with her usual warm smile. She’s already busy with a small pastry box and a pair of metal tongs. “Just what I needed for a while, but only for a while. You always have to come back home, after all.”

He nods, despite the fact that his home could be… literally anywhere. Could go literally anywhere. Maybe it’s for that reason alone that he’s had the distinct feeling that home is made up of people and not places.

Mrs. Cheng slides the box toward him, trades it for his card, but she doesn’t let him go just yet. She disappears into the back, and returns with a thick paper cup cradled in both hands, its contents so piping hot that there’s steam rising from the little hole in the lid. “You look like you could use a good cup of tea,” she says, kind as ever—and then, as he takes out his card once more, “It’s on the house, chou. Your constant patronage is payment enough.”

“Wow, that’s…” Luka’s speechless for a moment. “That’s really kind of you. Thank you.”

She smiles at him, and he didn’t really realize how much he’s missed seeing it until now. Maybe it’s not so bad that she came back. (Of course it’s not so bad; what is he thinking?) “The leaves are fresh,” is all she says. Probably because she doesn’t think it’s something she needs to be thanked for. “Think of it as a souvenir.”

Before Luka lets himself out, he stops by the door and tosses a glance back. “Hey, Mrs. Cheng?”

“What is it, Luka?” She had to pause humming as she wiped down the counter and the tongs, but she doesn’t seem disturbed by it. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen her disturbed by… anything, really.

His hands are too full to do anything fidgety with them, so he has to settle for scuffing the floor with his heel. “They took real good care of the shop while you were gone. Don’t have to worry about a thing.”

Mrs. Cheng’s expression goes soft. “That’s good,” is all she says, and it’s like she knows what he’s really trying to say—and honestly, he wouldn’t be surprised if she did. She’s a mother. She’s Marinette’s mother. Surely there have been plenty of boys, maybe even girls, who’ve spent their fair share of time here, fawning and pining. He wouldn’t be offended if he were just a drop in the bucket.

He doesn’t know why he hasn’t considered, until now as he’s hip-checking the door, the fact that Marinette Dupain-Cheng, with the ocean name and the ocean eyes, might already be taken.

Yeah, he has to tie down the pastry box to the back of his bike, and yeah, he has to walk his bike part of the way to the Champ de Mars and ignore the buzz of every notification in his back pocket. But it’s worth taking the extra time to enjoy the tea; he doesn’t know much about all the intricacies of the stuff the way Mrs. Cheng probably does, but it’s fruity and it smells kind of like flowers and it warms his insides, the way he thinks most tea is supposed to. And it perks him right up. He knows he’s going to need that today.

Not to mention there is, admittedly, a part of him that keeps looking around the city as he walks, and then bikes. A part of him that keeps wondering if he might catch Marinette lingering around the city. Living in it the way he does—forgetting, perhaps for a while, that other people exist. It’s the sort of thing that seeps in at the edges of his mind instead of plaguing his every waking moment. It comes to him the same way he might look at some old sheet music and remember his sister, or the way he might find an unattended mess and think, ah, that’s Ma.

At least that makes him feel… a little less like a creep.

When he gets to the park, he has to pick his spot strategically. Getting time off deliveries hardly ever means it’s time to rest; it’s either time to practice, or compose, or—his favorite—busk in parks, or metro stations, or the Trocadero plaza if he’s feeling particularly fancy. It’s not so lucrative that he can quit his other job and focus just on music, even if that would be the ultimate dream. But it gets some extra cash in his pocket, and he’d be either deaf or stupid if he ever tried to claim that his ma never taught him the value of a euro.

He decides on a bench nearby, where there are plenty of people scattered across the grass, picnicking and laughing and reading under the early summer sun. Sometimes he wonders what it might be like to belong to one of those groups, instead of half-being part of them online, but all it takes is the pop of his case and his fingers on the strings and knobs to remind him that everything he has is right here.

Still, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t take a moment or two after he’s eaten, with his permit clipped to the belt loop of his pants and his guitar in his lap, to fish his phone out of his pocket and scroll through his notifications one last time. It’s funny; when he started up this account, it was mostly to have a corner of the internet to himself, where he could share a few unbridled thoughts and a few more composed ones, maybe throw in a Kitty Section promotion or a clip of his latest project. Now, with a handful of new followers and likes and reposts in the double digits, he kind of has to wonder if this is his brand. Awkward musician mini-posts about a girl he’s not so scared to talk to but can’t get up the nerve to Talk To, just because it’s “wholesome.” Complete with that emoji that looks kind of like the pair of puppy dog eyes Juleka gives him when she tries to paint his nails a color that isn’t black.

And then he has to wonder, yet again, why so many people would be so invested in something like that. Why they’re so bent on following a saga about his…

Well, it’s not really a crush…

Is it a crush?

Oh, Jesus, no. Of course not. It’s not as though he spends every waking hour what it might be like to hold her hand, touch it beyond the occasional brush when they exchange boxes and cards. What it might be like not to have to apologize for bumping into her, or holding her attention for too long. It’s not as though he’s constantly imagined an evening moment that belongs to just the two of them, his guitar soothing her away from the pendulum swing of utter chaos and mind-numbing boredom that lives behind the register. And it’s not as though he’s felt the phantom bumps of her knees against his, or the quiet but intentional stroke of her fingers over his knuckles, or the solid feeling of their heads pressed together just before she tilts her own.

…Well. Not all the time.

Luka stuffs his phone in his pocket before he can think any more about what this is and what this isn’t and what he feels and what he doesn’t. He plucks out a few scales and takes a deep breath or two—sometimes he needs to do that to remind himself that he’s a performer, a musician, he’s doing his job and he can claim this space as much as he likes. And then he starts to play.

That’s all it takes. A few bars is all it ever takes for anyone to get as closee as they can to knowing him.

Within seconds, his fingers are dancing along the fretboard of his guitar, playing fanned-out tunes, drippy arpeggios pinpricks that demand to be heard among the background echo of notes gone by. Every chord with its own texture. Every song with its own color, following the ebb and flow of choked strings. He barely realizes he’s swaying and tapping his heel to his own craft, mouthing the lyrics to songs everyone here must know, until the first person approaches and drops a bill in his case. The patrons trickle in after that: some pass by and pause to spare him the courtesy of a removed earbud; some look up from their books and start to dig around in their pockets or their bags. One girl even kicks off her shoes and pulls her boyfriend up to dance with her, and maybe that doesn’t put food in his belly, but it’s something he can carry with him like the blessed photo of his sister that he kept in his worn-out wallet.

He doesn’t look up or open his eyes often—only to nod in thanks to those who are kind enough to pay him. The one time he looks up of his own volition, he lands on a boy and two girls, seated on a pink plaid picnic blanket and chatting excitedly. One of the girls, who has dark hair in a braid and her back turned to him, suddenly swells and sits up on her knees, all animated gestures as she gets to her feet and rounds her friends, evidently to demonstrate something.

His body remembers to keep playing, but the rest of him stops.

Marinette.

The other girl clicks for him then—the reddish hair and the glasses from his delivery to the bakery—just in time for her to make eye contact with him and for a sly smile to spread across her face. She looks up toward Marinette, says something he’s grateful he can’t make out, and when Marinette looks his way with a dove’s eyes and a deer’s stance, he only winks at her and goes back to his playing and swaying.

GOD, he screams to himself. WHY DID HE DO THAT?

He doesn’t dare look up again at least until the end of the song, and it’s a miracle that he plays even better than before he noticed her. When he does, Marinette is still watching him—has she been the whole time? Eventually, and out of the corner of her eye she kneels to gather up her friends’ trash, and she tosses them into the bin nearby. Very, very nearby. And then she kneels down again—very, very down— and drops a couple of bills into his case. It takes the rest of his bravery to lift his gaze toward her.

“First you ‘tip’ me,” he says, one hand on the guitar and the other making air quotes. “Now this?”

“Oh, come on,” she shoots back, smoothing out her skirt as she sits beside him, in spite of how her friend ribs the boy and nods their way. “This doesn’t even come close to how you’ve basically helped keep my parents’ business in the black. Besides…” She nods toward his case. “Now you can’t say you didn’t work for it.”

“Trust me.” Luka pats the body of his guitar, biting back a told you so and the urge to wonder why he feels so sure of himself. What witchcraft the guitar is working to make him feel this way, or if it’s the guitar at all, or whether all it does is make him look like a total douchebag. “I’ve been working.”

“So you can play.” Marinette crosses her legs and her arms, which accentuates the new jade pendant resting in the hollow of her throat. Probably a souvenir from Mrs. Cheng, or a gift from family she’s never met. “That’s not the same as being in a band.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that I’m still in one. I’ll prove it to you, if you want me to so badly.”

She grins, and it makes every hair stand on end under the heat of the sun. “Oh, yeah? And how are you gonna do that?”

“Come on—a musician never reveals his secrets.”

“That’s a magician, Luka.”

This time it’s his turn to smile, just as he fights back the flare of adrenaline. “Who says I don’t make magic?”

Yeah. It’s definitely the guitar.

“So,” Marinette says. She gives a passerby an admiring look when they stop to drop a few coins in his case, and Luka can’t tell if she’s doing it to thank his patrons or lure them in. “Do you take requests?”

“What’s the matter?” Luka strums a chord, wiggles the fingers that aren’t pinching his pick. “Don’t like my take on popular songs?”

“It’s not that.” She sits back on the bench like she really intends to stay awhile. Like she doesn’t have two friends who are staring at her so intently, either because they’re waiting for her to come back or because all they’re missing is a bucket of popcorn to split. “I guess you just always gave off the vibe that you had some kind of… angle, you know? Like, you’re the type of guy who hears colors, so people can give you a color and…” She shrugs. “You could play it.”

Luka tilts his head. “I can hear colors.” And moods. And hearts. And I’ve been stuck on yours, exactly how you think I mean it, for days. “I just never thought of it as an angle. Just an inspiration.”

Marinette blinks a couple of times in surprise, the sort that only says she wasn’t expecting his answer and thankfully not the sort that might imply that she knows what he’s thinking. “Oh. Well. Um. Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“You have something in mind?” He nods toward his case; might as well spare her the awkwardness he knows too well. “You know. So I can work for it.”

She takes a moment to think, seemingly grateful to be relieved of an apology, and she sits up straight only when she meets eyes with her best friend. “Something blue,” she murmurs after a while. “I wouldn’t mind hearing that.”

She says it, and Luka thinks of her without having to look at her. He smiles to himself, adjusting his guitar in his lap and pressing his fingers to the fretboard in the almost-right way. “There’s a saying about that, where my family’s from,” he replies, just loud enough for her to hear, and he begins to play as close to her eyes as he can manage. Pulls her into his world, this place between thoughts where he can get most things just right without having to say anything, where he’s the only person that anything makes sense to—him, and anyone willing to listen.

It feels like Marinette’s willing to listen.

The notes trail off once he reaches the part he hasn’t quite figured out, the sparkle in her eyes he hasn’t , and he’s felt her gaze on him long before he cuts the music and looks her way. “Something like that?” he says. It’s only then that he notices the extra money in his case, and judging from the look on Marinette’s face, she wasn’t the one who put it all there.

But she smiles at him all the same, gets to her feet and dusts off her skirt. “Something like that,” she replies. And then, before she returns to her friends. “I guess this is where I can find you now, huh?”

Like that’s supposed to mean something.

Is it supposed to mean something?

“I mean,” he says. “You could order something again.”

“I mean,” Marinette says back, “I could pick up a couple more shifts at the bakery.”

Luka doesn’t bother with his phone, or any technology, until he gets home—long after he’s settled below deck. It’s only then—because of course it’s right then—that inspiration sparks like a match. Only then that he scrambles for cables and plugs and the laptop he and Juleka used to share until they gifted her a new one for university.

song update. better quality than my phone, even. hit that play button, pals. and thanks for the likes.

#miraculous ladybug #lukanette #luka couffaine #marinette dupain cheng #fic: chronicles of a parisian dumbass #chinhands

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wildlifewednesdays · 6 years

Photo

Why Life Is So Tough for Sea Turtles

In 2015, authorities reported 28,088 green sea turtle nests in Florida—a new record high. In the early 1990s, fewer than 5,000 nests a year were recorded.

It's good news, but turtles aren't out of hot water just yet.

All seven species of the world's sea turtles are declining, whether it's from ocean pollution, poaching, or loss of beach nesting habitat, including from rising sea levels due to climate change. (See pictures of millions of sea turtles that might have been killed accidentally.)

Weird Animal Question of the Week took author’s prerogative to ask “What are the ups and downs of being a sea turtle?”

LIGHT EFFECTS

Boys are cool. Girls are warm.

Sounds sexist, but it’s true of all sea turtles and most other turtles, too. Mother sea turtles lay their nests on beaches, and the temperatures of those nests determine the sex of hatchlings. Warmer nests produce more females, and cooler ones produce more males.

It's likely that "temperature affects hormone regulation in a critical period of development in the embryo, influencing the sex ratio within the nest," says Sheila Madrak, a conservation biologist at San Diego State University.

Once babies hatch on the beach, they find their way to the ocean by following the light of the moon. But artificial lighting—even a big screen TV in a window—can confuse them, so many never make it to sea. (See National Geographic's photos of light pollution.)

Though it varies among species, the average number in a clutch of sea turtle eggs is 110, with an average of about two to eight nests per season, says Adrienne Cardwell, the Clearwater aquarium's manager of Sea Turtles and Aquatic Biology Programs.

In addition to getting disoriented, many hatchlings are picked off by predators, especially birds, as they crawl toward the sea.

TEENAGE MYSTERY TURTLES

Green sea turtle hatchlings in Florida that do reach the water can't exactly relax.

The tiny reptiles must swim nonstop up to 100 miles (160 kilometers) to a floating bed of grass called the Sargasso Sea, where they’re safely camouflaged from predators.

So begins "the lost years," a period of up to 15 years that's still a mystery to scientists, says Madrak.

The turtles are thought to spend it hanging out in remote parts of the ocean, eating and growing big. Really big, in the case of the leatherback, which can weigh nearly a ton.

TROUBLE FOR TURTLES

Ocean trash is the sea turtles' greatest threat, Cardwell says.

Turtles often get entangled in discarded fishing gear, and leatherbacks are prone to mistaking plastic bags for the jellyfish that are their favorite food. In 2015, people rescued an olive ridley sea turtle off Costa Rica with a plastic straw stuck up its nose.

A relatively new threat to green sea turtles is fibropapillomatosis, or FP, a virus that causes soft tissue and eye tumors and is an epidemic on the U.S. East Coast and in Hawaii.

The tumors can vary in size, but large tumors can impede the animals' ability to swim, eat, and see.

The turtles regain their strength at the aquarium’s rehab center, where they may one day be released back to the ocean. The center has released—and even rescued again—rehabbed turtles.

LAST LAUGH?

Though sea turtles have it tough, they don’t cry—even if they seem to. The reptiles excrete excess salt from a gland near their eye that can look to us like tears, Madrak notes.

Actually, sea turtles may have the last laugh. (See National Geographic's sea turtle pictures.)

Not only have the animals as a group been on Earth for over a hundred million years, they're long-lived, with some species living a century.

“Modern sea turtle research only started in the 1940s,” Madrak says, so “most of the turtles that we study outlive everybody who’s studied them so far.”

So long as they stick around, we can live with that.

#sea turtle #green turtle #baby animals #marine #marine biology #zoology #turtle #leatherback #loggerhead #olive ridley #pollution #conservation #article

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luzintheattic · 3 years

Text

Eulogy to Apartment 1801

Goodbye to the Botero book

and the monet

and the Manet

and the Renoir

And the photo albums!

The bar mitzvah of Pablo Andres, leather bound

The vacation, linen bound

The 65th birthday

years bound together by cloth

This library encased in glass

On top of Marble

On top of a Persian rug

On top of marble

Surrounded by the whitest couches

Which sometimes wore plastic clothes

When grandkids with grimy hands climbed and crawled

Or when the family sat

At 6 am

Watching the sun rise

Taking up half the sky

Filling the room with orange light and silhouettes and silence

Goodbye to the round brown table

Of dinners

Of engagement

Of first champagnes

With the fabric seats of which there never seemed to be enough

For the cousins

And the friends

And anyone who happened to be there

Goodbye to the whitest walls

(Next to the whitest couches) On which hung the zebras

And the dancers

And the beach scenes

In which lived the candlesticks

And the glass fish

And the klezmer musicians

Goodbye to the kitchen

Of wooden bowls

Of Italian spoon rests

Of two ovens

And beldent gum

And morning cookies

And ceaser salads

And spinach pie

And rugalach

And facturas

And steak and potatoes para Ari

And just-got-off-the-plane esándwiches de miga

And your cooking

Goodbye to the TV room

With the spicy tuna blanket

Where dirty feet were contraband!

Where snacks came from the vending machines

of LL

Where there were too many dress up shows

And the Chinese dances

Where chairs became carousels

And the Millions family photos

Of the fourth floor

Of nineties curtains

Of Cape Cod

Of Italy

Of Cruises

Of south Florida 1985 hair

Goodbye to the pull out beds

(Wiry with thin covers)

Shared by three sisters

Or by two parents

Or high school graduates

By the Yiddish theater poster

And the obnoxious embroidery

And the more obnoxious camp letters

Surrounded by a stolen copy of the book thief

And old travel books,

holocaust books in Spanish,

self help books,

Dan Brown books,

unread Borges,

holocaust books in English,

medical journals,

a signed copy of the devil wears Prada,

High School yearbooks,

holocaust books in Yiddish

And that one picture on the beach

Where there’s hair in your face

And your smile is electric

And your eyes are squinting in the sun

Illuminated

Goodbye to the mirrored closets

Big enough to be a bedroom

Where the boys climbed out of their cribs

Where heels were tried on

And tennis shirts stolen

And polo pants stolen

And cover ups borrowed

And boxes packed

With Louis Vuitton

And theory

And Target

And Costco

And sweaters from 20 years ago

From size 14-0

Goodbye to the big bed

With its mattress that hugged you so much better than the air mattress that often lay by it like a sad side-car

And it’s lavender spray

And the bamboo pillow

And the triangle pillow

Where time was quality

And people made way for ducklings

Where little girls stayed up past American Idol

Until the 11 o’clock news

Where the entire family sometimes fell asleep

Where everyone seem to always end up

Goodbye to the bathroom

With its fancy French bidet

And it’s Persian rug

And circular scented bubble bath

Where cucumbers were meant for eyes

And salt was meant for the large deep bathtub

Where blow drying was best left to the grandfather

Goodbye to the entrance

The big heavy wooden door

And the two naked women

Long of torso

Silently gossiping

goodbye to the view

To the view of the intracoastal

Of the ocean

At night when the cruise ship would pass peered at through a telescope

Where Shirley temples were sipped

And you could see people in the pool

Where clouds stopped by to pay their respects

The last thing you ever saw

Goodbye

To Apartment 1801

To the memories

To the love

And most of all to you

0 notes

luzenelatico · 3 years

Text

Eulogia del departamento 1801

Goodbye to the Botero book

and the monet

and the Manet

and the Renoir

And the photo albums!

The bar mitzvah of Pablo Andres, leather bound

The vacation, linen bound

The 65th birthday

years bound together by cloth

This library encased in glass

On top of Marble

On top of a Persian rug

On top of marble

Surrounded by the whitest couches

Which sometimes wore plastic clothes

When grandkids with grimy hands climbed and crawled

Or when the family sat

At 6 am

Watching the sun rise

Taking up half the sky

Filling the room with orange light and silhouettes and silence

Goodbye to the round brown table

Of dinners

Of engagement

Of first champagnes

With the fabric seats of which there never seemed to be enough

For the cousins

And the friends

And anyone who happened to be there

Goodbye to the whitest walls

(Next to the whitest couches) On which hung the zebras

And the dancers

And the beach scenes

In which lived the candlesticks

And the glass fish

And the klezmer musicians

Goodbye to the kitchen

Of wooden bowls

Of Italian spoon rests

Of two ovens

And beldent gum

And morning cookies

And ceaser salads

And spinach pie

And rugalach

And facturas

And steak and potatoes para Ari

And just-got-off-the-plane esándwiches de miga

And your cooking

Goodbye to the TV room

With the spicy tuna blanket

Where dirty feet were contraband!

Where snacks came from the vending machines

of LL

Where there were too many dress up shows

And the Chinese dances

Where chairs became carousels

And the Millions family photos

Of the fourth floor

Of nineties curtains

Of Cape Cod

Of Italy

Of Cruises

Of south Florida 1985 hair

Goodbye to the pull out beds

(Wiry with thin covers)

Shared by three sisters

Or by two parents

Or high school graduates

By the Yiddish theater poster

And the obnoxious embroidery

And the more obnoxious camp letters

Surrounded by a stolen copy of the book thief

And old travel books,

holocaust books in Spanish,

self help books,

Dan Brown books,

unread Borges,

holocaust books in English,

medical journals,

a signed copy of the devil wears Prada,

High School yearbooks,

holocaust books in Yiddish

And that one picture on the beach

Where there’s hair in your face

And your smile is electric

And your eyes are squinting in the sun

Illuminated

Goodbye to the mirrored closets

Big enough to be a bedroom

Where the boys climbed out of their cribs

Where heels were tried on

And tennis shirts stolen

And polo pants stolen

And cover ups borrowed

And boxes packed

With Louis Vuitton

And theory

And Target

And Costco

And sweaters from 20 years ago

From size 14-0

Goodbye to the big bed

With its mattress that hugged you so much better than the air mattress that often lay by it like a sad side-car

And it’s lavender spray

And the bamboo pillow

And the triangle pillow

Where time was quality

And people made way for ducklings

Where little girls stayed up past American Idol

Until the 11 o’clock news

Where the entire family sometimes fell asleep

Where everyone seem to always end up

Goodbye to the bathroom

With its fancy French bidet

And it’s Persian rug

And circular scented bubble bath

Where cucumbers were meant for eyes

And salt was meant for the large deep bathtub

Where blow drying was best left to the grandfather

Goodbye to the entrance

The big heavy wooden door

And the two naked women

Long of torso

Silently gossiping

goodbye to the view

To the view of the intracoastal

Of the ocean

At night when the cruise ship would pass peered at through a telescope

Where Shirley temples were sipped

And you could see people in the pool

Where clouds stopped by to pay their respects

The last thing you ever saw

Goodbye

To Apartment 1801

To the memories

To the love

And most of all to you

0 notes

prettyboy-jimin · 7 years

Text

Cherry Red; i

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Park Jimin

Genre: Fluff, mild smut implication

Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: Based on this prompt I got somewhere, I don’t remember but I’m pretty sure it’s from otpprompts

Imagine Person A saying to Person B, “If real life was a fandom, people would ship us.” Bonus: Person A, never one to quit while they’re ahead, continues to say “There would be porn of us.”

Note

Weeehh, I’ve been into a lot of angst lately and frankly #JUSTICEFORANGST because the beautiful thing is so underappreciated y’all like how dare, but my friend’s been hurting a lot with me and she deserves some Yoonmin fluff heh + Also, I only realised after I finished everything that the prompt would be best portrayed if it were a Non-Idol AU but.. you know… I finished it and… yeah…

Hawaii was beautiful, Jimin had absolutely no words for it. Only yesterday had he and the others boarded a boat to sail around for the day, his hyungs fishing like the old men he knew them to be, Jungkook and Taehyung pushing each other off the boat, into the saltwater. The day before that, he and Namjoon went hiking up the mountains in the early morning, early enough to catch the warm sun freeing itself from the night’s cold embrace. They took a few pictures for the fans, knowing their girls from all over the globe would be curious of what they were up to. Jimin especially liked the photo Namjoon took of him wherein the sun’s glare competed against the camera, resulting in a large halo of sorts around Jimin’s body. This morning, Jimin had gone down to the beach with Jin, Namjoon tagging along as the adventurer he was. They walked with their heads down, careful not to let a stray fan catch them and scream. They found a sea turtle making its way onto the shore, Jin immediately hopping about telling his friends to take a picture. Jimin snapped a photo of his hyung, Jin thereafter forcing him and Namjoon to do the same. They sat on the sand with curious smiling faces directed to the reptile, Jin especially pleased with himself once he had tweeted their photos, along with the sea turtle’s solo shot, with a caption that said they tried turtle watching. Jimin laughed, scoffed more so, since all they really did was sit and smile rather than actually watch the aged animal crawl further onto land.

And though Hawaii was beautiful and Jimin couldn’t get enough of the beautiful beaches, he found himself here, in their hotel suite lounging around; exhausted. Jungkook was napping on the bed across from him, Taehyung tucking the maknae securely under his arm as he scrolled through his phone. Jin, Namjoon and Hoseok were out for the afternoon for more adventure, using the most of their time exploring than actually resting, wherein the three youngest as well as Yoongi were just too tired to move.

Jimin was lying on his back, arms splayed out on his shared bed with Hoseok, feet on the ground and eyes on the ceiling. The suite was quiet save for Yoongi’s constant typing on his laptop and the music that Jimin could faintly hear blasting from the elder’s headphones. It surprised Jimin how Yoongi wasn’t deaf yet, or relatively close to it.

Jimin was just about to drift off to sleep when Yoongi’s voice broke through his daze.

“Yes, hyung?” he answered groggily.

“Let’s go out”

Jimin laughed, a witty remark on the tip of his tongue. Is this how you ask me on a date? But he knew that his hyung would have something better up his sleeve so it was best to behave.

“And where would we go?” Jimin asked, eyes still closed, half hoping Yoongi would change his mind.

“The hotel has a pool on the roof, a café and whatever.” Yoongi said “We could look over the city if you don’t wanna go for a swim.”

Jimin pulled himself up, resting his elbows on his knees as he tried to recover from the sudden movement. He muttered something Yoongi thought was I’m in board shorts anyway so we’ll see, and they both made their way out the door without much conversation; leaving Taehyung and Jungkook to sleep the afternoon away.

Jimin and Yoongi stepped into the elevator in silence, allowing the horrible music to envelope the small space they created between them. There were other people already aboard, either also on their way to the roof deck or up a floor higher than Jimin and Yoongi’s.

The dancer cast a glance to his hyung, usually they’d engage in some sort of conversation, the elder always having something interesting to share but at the moment he seemed to be in deep thought. Was something bothering him? Jimin would ask but now wasn’t the time and place so he figured to save it for later.

They stepped out of the lift after everyone else on board, basking in the warmth the afternoon sun down casted on them. The view was amazing, Jimin’s eyes immediately finding the edge of the building. He ran across the deck, passing the rooftop café and restaurant as well as the pool, leaving behind an amused Yoongi to chuckle and follow after him.

Jimin’s hands gripped the cold metal railing, his eyes wide and smile huge. The wind brushed his hair back, saltwater fusing with the air he enjoyably inhaled for the past few days as Yoongi stood by his side, enjoying the ocean breeze.

“This is amazing” Jimin said, breathless and in awe.

“Right?” Yoongi stole a glance at the dancer before turning his gaze back to the view. “A fan tweeted about how she was in the same hotel as us a few months back”

“Oh?”

Yoongi nodded his head with a pursed smile, Jimin only just noticing the slight tinge of pink on his hyung’s cheeks. When Yoongi shifted to look at him, Jimin ducked is head as if his distorted reflection in the metallic railing had suddenly become too interesting to ignore. A small smirk was displayed on Yoongi’s face that Jimin hadn’t noticed. He decided he liked making Jimin adorably uncomfortable.

“Do you ever wonder what our girls are up to on a daily basis?” Yoongi rolled around to set the undersides of his elbows on the railing that separated them from the edge, eyeing the other hotel guests as they enjoyed their vacation. “What they do with their normal lives?”

Jimin’s eyes were wide, observing Yoongi as if he had just sprouted a pair of goat horns, but Jimin knew that Yoongi just liked to think a lot. He gave a soft smile as he realised that Yoongi referred to the fans as ‘their girls’ just like how Bangtan were their boys. It made Jimin’s heart warm. It had been years since they first debuted, gradually building a fanbase in and out of Korea, but only in the recent years had Jimin seen their group of friends really skyrocket off the charts. It had been an amazing series of events, but it had also been really restless for the seven of them. Though the endless support they got from their ARMYs was more than enough motivation.

Jimin mirrored Yoongi’s position, observing the strangers of different backgrounds as well, a sense of fondness catching in his voice as he said, “Apart from loving us unconditionally, constantly making sure we’re happy and healthy, making fanfiction and screaming when we post new photos… I have to say Yoongi-hyung, I have no idea.”

Yoongi was eyeing a little girl no more than three years old on the pool’s edge, it was the kiddie pool with a built in ramp of sorts, made to look like the sand as the clear water kept lapping at it. She had floaters on her little arms, and her black curls were glistening with water droplets Yoongi saw an older boy playfully splash her with. He smiled as she let out a little giggle and attacked what Yoongi assumed to be her brother.

“Do you ever think of how amazing it is that people are all divided into different fandoms?” Yoongi wondered aloud, still watching the wonderful display of family affection before him. “They’re like organisations that you can just come in and leave and while you’re there you have a family.”

Jimin raised a curious eyebrow at Yoongi. That was one way to put it, a really complicated way at that.

“Hyung, you think too much.” He says playfully, chuckling as he admires the scenery Hawaii had to offer.

But the idea continues to amaze the rapper, how people who had never even met each other in person or even know each other’s name can become the best of friends over their mutual interest in Bangtan, how a single night spanning from two to four hours could bring total strangers together and form friendships, relationships that normally take days, weeks to build. It amazes Yoongi. He thinks of their fans’ creativity, how artists can remake their photos using various types of paint, pencils, how they use their talents and incorporate their support for Bangtan and as he looks over at Jimin who was still admiring the view, he thinks of how their fans can see Yoongi’s feelings for him as if he was an open book. Damn were they dedicated.

He looks at Jimin, unafraid despite their public location; no one knew who they were here. He notices how Jimin had developed a nice tan over the last few days, hinting his skin just the slightest. Jimin’s cheeks were painted a light pink from hours under the sun and in the seawater, Yoongi thought if this was what it looked like to be sunkissed.

Jimin looks over at him, his weight still leaning on his elbows on the railing as he smiles at Yoongi.

“If real life was a fandom people would ship us.” Yoongi says coolly, almost indifferent towards Jimin’s widened eyes and shocked expression. It’s evidently clear to Yoongi that Jimin wasn’t expecting that. “People do ship us.”

Jimin straightens, his pink cheeks darkening to a pale red as his smile forms a straight line. He shifts on one foot to the other as he then finds himself struggling to find a decent position to stay in, settling on just standing straight with his hands clasped together in front of him as Yoongi chuckles.

“Yoongi hyung that’s pretty—“

“There would probably be porn of us.” Yoongi says, not bothering to lower his volume as passers-by shoot him looks ranging from confused to downright disgusted, yet Yoongi only shrugs and laughs as Jimin is the one who bows apologetically out of habit.

Yoongi tilts his head at Jimin, the younger’s cheeks now aflame and his eyes darting everywhere except Yoongi. Yoongi enjoys seeing Jimin flustered like this, gulping down air, fiddling with his shirt, rubbing his forearms in attempts at calming himself down; it’s entertaining as it is absolutely adorable. The world knows Jimin to be shy with these types of things, but the world doesn’t get to witness it up close and personal like Yoongi does and he decides that it sort of labels him as one of the lucky ones.

Jimin chokes and coughs on the air he sharply inhales as he says, “Hyung, that’s pretty intense” Yoongi smiling as he looks down at his feet. Jimin takes the opportunity to stare for as long as he could before he says something more.

“You’d like that though, wouldn’t you?” he muses, trying to supress a smile as Yoongi’s head jolts upwards, his smile wavering. When the older boy doesn’t seem to understand where Jimin is coming from, Jimin speaks again. “You’d like that—porn of us?”

Yoongi knows Jimin is joking, that he’s just trying to get at Yoongi by his own game but it doesn’t stop his eyebrows from shooting upwards in surprise as Jimin steps closer, hands still laced together in front of him and a smug smile plastered on his face.

“You’d look really pretty writhing under me, hyung” Jimin whispers, fingers playing at the collar of Yoongi’s black shirt. Yoongi is more relaxed now, he’s played this game a thousand times before and is well aware of Jimin’s feigning confidence, the dancer trying to make him as flustered as he was mere minutes ago as a sort of revenge. But Jimin doesn’t know that Yoongi’s won this game just as many times as he’s played it.

“I don’t know about writhing, but I’d definitely be under you.” Yoongi mutters, looking into Jimin’s eyes with a dark playfulness staining his irises. “I could see you falling apart over me, Jiminie. Bouncing desperately and screaming my name as I make you feel good.”

Jimin gulps, body gone stiff and his board shorts unbelievably uncomfortable as his eyes flicker between Yoongi’s eyes lips. Yoongi’s tongue makes an appearance and wets his lips as he grits back a chuckle when he sees Jimin’s eyes follow. Oh how he loved seeing Jimin lose.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” he asks, his voice dangerously low as he leans towards the younger boy uncaring to whoever was with them and wherever they were. Yoongi leaned in, closer and closer until their noses were touching and Jimin’s lips were only a breath away, until a fabricated, unrealistic cough makes Jimin dance backwards; creating a large space between him and Yoongi.

Yoongi doesn’t move, shutting his eyes tightly to hold down his frustrations and biting down on his lip to muffle the protests. He exhales before turning forward, Jimin now a foot away from him nibbling on his lip as he toed the cement at his feet. Yoongi spares a glare at Jin, clearly the one who faked the cough and verbally drew Jimin away from him, who was standing between Namjoon and Hoseok, all three looking smug and proud of themselves when Yoongi just really wanted to hurt them.

“Jungkook told us where to find you.” Jin disclosed, a playful glint in his eye as a haughty smile played at his lips. “We’re here to call you so you can get ready for dinner.”

With that Jin turned away, Namjoon following suit like a little puppy. Hoseok winked at Jimin, making him redden even more than Yoongi thought possible, his blush reaching the tips of his ears and a part of his neck.

Jimin spared Yoongi a glance, burning a cherry when Yoongi winks at him, trailing behind beside Hoseok as Jimin speed walks to catch up to his other hyungs.

“What was that about?” Hoseok asks as soon as Jimin was out of earshot.

“That was…” Yoongi didn’t know what that was, he didn’t want to assume that Jimin like him too even if it was pretty clear; it was best if Jimin said it aloud and Yoongi could rest properly. He also didn’t want to give Hoseok a witty remark, he knew the younger was genuinely curious despite his playful demeanour but truth be told Yoongi was curious as well. “That was… something else.”

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moayoub1 · 4 years

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How to go Island Hopping in Thailand – Review of 4 Islands Tour, Krabi

When people consider Thailand, they consider exotic islands and excellent beaches. the maximum amount as I loved exploring Bangkok on my five-week house sit, I knew I wanted to experience the more salty, sandy side of Thailand.

I plan to stay in Ao Nang, Krabi because it appeared like an honest launching off point for all the tropical islands within the Andaman Sea. Ao Nang features a sleepy beach town vibe. It’s the right place to hold out and teach online while visiting nearby islands on my days off.

So I arrive in Ao Nang and it’s awesome. I relax at the beach for each day and stuff my face at Jungle Kitchen, aka the best Thai restaurant of all time. within the evening, I mount Viator and flick through the various tours and excursions. There are numerous to select from.

There are dozens of tours by longtail boat or speed boat getting to fantastic, exotic locations just like the Phi Phi Islands, Hong Island, and a few places called Bond Island. All the photographs look so beautiful they can’t be real. I start an inventory of places I would like to ascertain and anxiously count the times until my rental is up.

Even with a month in Ao Nang, I’ll be cutting it close. Then I see a tour that catches my eye called 4 Islands. This tour goes by longtail boat to (you guessed it) four different islands around Ao Nang. and every one of these islands was on my list. “Four birds with one stone!” I say aloud to nobody especially and high-five myself.

For about $20, the 4 Islands Tour includes snorkel gear, transfer to and from my apartment, and a lunch buffet. I immediately forced entry into an excited sweat, as lunch buffets and that I have an extended and delightful, albeit sometimes dodgy history. you would possibly remember that a lunch buffet was directly liable for me passing out on the Bangkok Skytrain. Still, a lunch buffet, just like the Taco Bell drive-thru or the reptile room at your local zoo, maybe a place where I feel I am often my true self.

I book a spot on the four islands tour for the subsequent morning. “Four Islands are better than one,” I chuckle while watching the sunset, sipping the wine I got from the 7/11.

How to Go Island Hopping in Thailand with the 4 Islands Tour

In the morning, a white songthaew truck picks me up at the market near my house. After collecting people at a couple of hotels and hostels, we drive about five minutes out of town to the pier. At the pier, we are sorted into our groups supported which tour we are taking. there are a restroom and place to shop for snacks at the pier but we don’t wait long before we are loaded into our long-tail boat.

The long tail boat sounds something sort of a lawnmower, a lawnmower you build yourself using only parts from an early 1900’s rattler. I’m sure our sweet guide is telling us fascinating facts about all the historical and geological sites we were passing as we flew across the ocean, but all I hear is that the roar of the engine and therefore the crashing of waves on the hull.

The first stop on the 4 Islands Tour: Tup Island

We pull up within the shallow waters of Tup Island in our long tail boat. The guide drops two ladders on either side of the boat and that i alight into the knee-deep seawater in what I’m sure may be a graceful display of athleticism.

Tub island may be a postcard. Clear blue seas, brilliant white sand, soaring rock formations and plush jungle call at the center of nowhere. it's a sandbar connecting two nearby islands which you'll walk along during low water . Unfortunately, the tide was too high during our time here so I didn’t get to ascertain if the neighboring island was actually as perfect because it looked. I paddle around within the water then lay out on my towel just a touch too on the brink of the water. A wave washes up covering me and my towel, so that’s the top of my towel for this trip. (Later, i might study the almighty Sarong. It’s made from thinner material, it makes an excellent beach blanket and it dries faster than a terry cloth towel. And you'll tie it around your body all glamorous-like on your walk home!)

I walk back and forth up the tiny strip of beach and appearance in the least the various boats. The time flies by. Forty-five minutes later it’s time to urge back within the boat so I wade bent the ladder and heave myself on board, dripping wet. I hang my droopy tower over the side of the boat and choose that i'm okay with being a salty drippy mess for the remainder of the day.

Heck, maybe the remainder of my life. If this is often the worth of living in paradise, so be it.

Second Stop on the 4 Islands Tour: Chicken Island

I wonder where chicken island got its name. Any guesses? We circle chicken island a couple of times so everyone could get an honest picture of the famous chicken head rock formation, then our guide stops the boat a couple of hundred feet from shore. He tells us this is often the simplest place to travel snorkeling on the tour. After a couple of quick warnings about not dropping our snorkel gear ( alternatively we’ll be fined) and not stepping on sea urchins (or else we’ll die), he tosses the ladders into the water and a-snorkeling we go.

I’ve never snorkeled before.

In the water, I fumble with the mask, realizing I definitely haven’t worn one among these since i used to be in secondary school playing sharks and minnows in my neighbor’s above-ground pool. a pleasant non-snorkeling couple the boat snaps several photos of me and that i learn that there's absolutely no thanks to look good with a snorkeling mask on your face. Then I dip my head under the water.

I don’t know what i used to be expecting. i do know people love snorkeling, but I never thought it might be this… spectacular. One second, I see the planet above water – the boat, the chicken rock, the great photography couple waving and snapping pictures. I move my head down three inches under the water and therefore the world explodes in color and lightweight .

It jogs my memory just like the aquarium at my childhood doctors office crammed with exotic fish, apart from these fish are right ahead of my face, and this aquarium is endless. a couple of feet below me may be a reef where fish of each color and shape weave in and out between corals. I see sea urchins and tiny crabs and every one the opposite things I wont to teach my students about during the ocean unit of science class.

It’s a mixture of everything – the fragile little parrot fish that swim right up to my mask and appearance me within the eye. The way the sunshine from above dances across the colorful coral. The silence. I knew all this was here, but I never really got it until that moment.

This earth is so precious. the items in it are so spectacular. And I’m sure we don’t even know the half it.

Third Stop on the 4 Islands Tour – Poda Island

At Poda Island, it’s time for lunch. because the guide lays out the spread of curries, vegetables, and rice, we all eagerly wait around during a circle, not unlike vultures. Never one to “take it easy” at a lunchtime buffet, I pile my plate high and smile sort of a beach monkey who just stole someone’s iPhone X.

Poda Island is that the largest of the Islands on the tour. It feels less crowded and that i wander round the beach awkwardly taking selfies until some kind girl from Australia takes pity on me and offers to require my picture. Poda Island has restroom facilities but be warned, they're of the squatty potty variety. Too soon, it's time to urge back on the boat.

Final Stop on the 4 Islands Tour – Phra Nang Cave Beach

After a ship ride around cliffs so spectacular I had to record a ten-minute bouncy video on my phone, we pull up to a quiet cove. There are dozens of long tail boats lined up, but no people. a woman during a pink shirt asks me to require her picture with the boats and she or he offers to require one among me. once we realize we’re both traveling alone, we immediately become best friends.

A pack of individuals walk down a paved path through the caves, so we follow them. After a brief five-minute walk, we round a corner to Phra Nang cave overlooking the pristine water. The beach is crawling with people but we don’t care. We run out into the water, throwing our bags of valuables to the wind.

Final Thoughts on the 4 Islands Tour

I enjoyed this tour and would definitely roll in the hay again. The 4 Islands tour may be a convenient and cost-effective thanks to see some amazing places around Ao Nang without having to stress about coordinating plenty of boat rides. If you’re planning a 4 Islands Tour, confirm to…

Book in Person: I booked online, but you'll compute a less expensive deal if you attend one among the tourist kiosks face to face . I met travelers on my tour who had negotiated their ticket price down a couple of dollars at the walk up stands everywhere Ao Nang.

Take a separate trip to Railay: You get to spend about an hour on the Phra Nang Cave a part of Railay, but Railay is worth its own excursion . come on another day and spend longer here.

Bring a water bottle: Water is provided but you’ll probably want quite the 2 or three little cups you’re given.

Protect your Electronics: You’ll be jumping off the boat into the water to wade to shore at each island, so use a water-proof telephone Dry Bag like this one to form sure you don’t drown your phone.

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kenzieinfirenze · 7 years

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"Some journeys in life can only be traveled alone": Ireland

I think traveling alone to a foreign country is something everyone should do, even if only for a few days. This weekend I had the best weekend of the semester so far, and it's because I traveled to Dublin for 4 days completely on my own. If you had asked me 3 months ago if I would ever travel alone, I would have laughed. My friends in NY always joke around about how I seem to hate being alone. Although I'd say I'm more outgoing than not, I can get really shy in certain circumstances. I'm a people person, in that I enjoy being around people, but I have this other side of me that thoroughly enjoys being alone with my thoughts. It didn't even feel like the same semester, being with completely different people and all. I got to Dublin on Thursday afternoon (4/6/17), and started off my trip with a little exploration of downtown, including Grafton Street. I then did a 2 hour walking tour, like I have been doing in each place I visit. The tour brought us to Dublin castle, the Temple Bar district, and Trinity College. After the tour, I walked around a little more, and found a Topshop, which was cool because we don't have them in Italy. I picked up a salad at the grocery store next to my hostel for dinner, and decided I was going to do the pub crawl that many people do from hostels around the city. This was the point where I was starting to feel like maybe being by myself wasn't going to be as fun as I thought. However, I saw 2 clearly American girls eating a snack in the common area of the hostel. I walked up to them and literally asked "hey, are those free snacks, where did you get those!?" because food is a great conversation starter, right? I ended up talking to them for a little bit and went on the pub crawl with them. Savannah and Lana, if you read this, thank you for being so kind and genuinely really cool people. I hope I see you again one day. At the pub crawl, we met an Australian guy named James and a guy from Baltimore named Chris. They were really nice guys, and although Chris went back to the US the next day, we got to know James pretty well. The pub crawl was fun, and I loved getting to see the various places people go out in Dublin. The night life was overall so much more than I was expecting, and I'm grateful I made friends because I wouldn't have been able to enjoy it otherwise. There is live music everywhere at all times, and damn the Irish know how to have a good time. The next morning, I woke up pretty early and had breakfast by myself at a place called Hatch & Sons, which the hostel recommended for a traditional Irish breakfast. I had poached eggs with sausage and bread, and just read my book with a cup of coffee. Again, I was starting to feel a little lonely, but I was happy I got a message from Savannah and Lana that they wanted to join me for the Guinness Brewery later. James and Chris also came. Before that, I walked about an hour to get to Kilmainham Gaol, which is an old (opened in 1796) very famous prison in Dublin. I am so happy I had the opportunity to go there. I've never done something like that, and the history there is amazing. What it's most known for is that it housed and is the place of execution of 4 of the famous leaders of the 1916 Rebellion in Ireland. I saw the older part of the prison, as well as the newer, Victorian section. In the older part, during the potato famine, many people were getting thrown in prison for stealing food, or because they purposely got arrested so they could be fed. The conditions were cold, dark, and many women and children had to sleep in the halls on the floor. I also got to see the yard where many executions took place. Creepy. After that, I walked around Trinity College again, and it really is so pretty. I wouldn't mind being a student there. Apparently it's very similar to Oxford architecturally. I walked over to the Guinness Storehouse for my tour at 4, and met up with my new friends. I was much more impressed with this factory than I was with Heineken in Amsterdam. It was very large, and you could tell a lot of money was put into it. It basically just explains to you the history, how the beer is made, there is a tasting room, and then you get to learn how to pour your own beer before enjoying it on their rooftop "Gravity" bar that overlooks Dublin. It was fun just hanging out up there for a little bit. We were all pretty hungry after that, and we went somewhere to have fish and chips, which was delicious. This is where the story of this weekend gets good-we went to the Old Storehouse bar in the Temple Bar district, and saw these 3 people playing live music that were probably around our age. They were phenomenal, and we ended up seeing them again the next 2 nights. These men that must have been in their 40s or 50s were laughing at us because they could tell we liked the guys playing the music. They kept saying "talk to them after the show," "which one do you like I'll help you out"...it was hilarious. I honestly probably wouldn't have said anything to the band, but the old guys told them we wanted to talk to them but were too shy! Not true at all, but it was still funny. They ended up asking us to stay and have a drink with them. They said normally they just go home after gigs, so we were flattered. We ended up hanging out with them for over an hour, and they were so nice. Zak and Neil were my new Irish friends, which is even more cool than making American friends. They are some of the most talented people I've ever met, and I won't tell their whole life stories here, but I got to know them really well. Zak asked me to meet up with him the next night, too! I went back to my hostel to go to bed because I had to be on a bus at 7am for a day trip to the Cliffs of Moher and Galway. I did this trip by myself, and really really enjoyed it. On the way to the Cliffs, we stopped at a rest stop that was called Barack Obama Plaza, with photos of him everywhere, which I thought was hilarious. Apparently a couple years ago, Obama visited this random, tiny town in Ireland, and so they named this plaza after him. We continued on to the Cliffs, and I cannot even explain the beauty of them. It was a much different view of the Atlantic Ocean than I'm used to! Everyone told me that the weather can be really bad at the Cliffs, and sometimes you can't even see them through the fog. However, I got the PERFECT weather, and I was so grateful. I walked along the edge of the Cliffs, and there are signs everywhere saying danger, and even a plaque for the people that have died there. I didn't get too close to the edge, but it was very thrilling nonetheless. We had a couple hours there, and then we got back on the bus to drive toward Galway. The bus took a scenic route along the "wild Atlantic coast," which was really beautiful. We got out at one point on these huge slabs of limestone that were very interesting. Geologists all over the world come to this area to study it. We got back on the bus after a short time, and continued our way to Galway. Galway was lovely. I wish I could've spent more time there, but since the airport is in Dublin, it was easier to stay there the whole time, as it was a short time, and just do a day trip to Galway. The tour guide for the day trip gave a quick tour, before I spent a couple hours wandering. One of the things I found interesting was there is a church in Galway that Christopher Columbus is known to have visited, and legend has it that a man called St. Brandon the Navigator had already discovered America, and Columbus must have been talking to locals in Galway, and that's how he knew where America was. Hmmm. I got noodles from a to go place and brought them to sit on the grass in an area called Claddagh, which is where the river runs into the ocean, and also where the Claddagh ring gets its name. Since it was such a beautiful day, there were tons of people enjoying the weather and the pretty scenery of colored houses that reminded me a little of Copenhagen. I walked through the streets a little after that, and got my little a Claddagh ring. Fun fact: the McMahons originated from Galway, so when I blast Ed Sheeran's Galway Girl, I'm not lying :) Since my time in Galway was so short, I only had time to watch a few street performances on my walk back to the bus. We then had about a 3 hour drive back to Dublin. I spent more time on a bus on Saturday than not on the bus, but it was still very worth it. When I got back, I quickly freshened up and met up with my new Irish friend Zak at a bar between his gigs. He had to play again from 12-2am, at this really popular bar called The Quays (Temple Bar district), and so I decided to go and watch, just me. I met some American girls who were nice. I had so much fun just drinking some Guinness and enjoying the music (which again, they are SO good), and essentially being a groupie at this point. When Zak and Neil were done, we went to another bar to hangout, but everything was starting to close soon after that. Since they are known by most bars around Dublin, we were able to stay at a bar and casually hangout even after it closed! I got home extremely late Saturday night, but I had such a blast in Dublin. It really is cool getting to know people from another country, especially your own age. I slept in on Sunday, sat in this cute coffee shop, and just did a lot of walking around. I saw St. Patrick's cathedral from the outside, and then walked to Savannah and Lana's Airbnb on the other side of the river. They did the hostel a couple nights, and the Airbnb a couple nights. We went out to dinner at a place with live music (of course), and then went to The Temple Bar for more live music! We had a couple drinks there before we went to see our Irish friends one last time (I told you-groupies). I feel like I've known all these people for so long at this point, when it's really just been a few days. The guys gave us CDs for free, which was so nice, and I can't wait to listen to it in my car all summer. The best part of this trip was I had no plans other than just to go. I had no idea who I would meet or what I would do for the most part. Ireland, I know I will be back one day. I really do feel like I left a piece of my heart there, and now have memories that will last forever. It's felt genuinely sad leaving this morning. Travel as much as you can. Meet as many people as you can. You'll be surprised at how kind people are, and how easy it is to find yourself in an unfamiliar place.

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whiterabbitpeak · 7 years

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Langkawi.

A postcard perfect island paradise

Captains Log Day 7 - 30/12/16 6:32pm. AirAsia Flight AK6321.

Escaping Pagoda life after several delays, gate changes and frantic bowel movements we were able to keep the innards of the captain’s stomach confined. We arrived at the island of Langkawi late and exhausted. Wikipedia break – Langkawi is officially known as Jewel of Kedah, is an archipelago of 104 islands in the Andaman Sea, some 30km off the mainland coast of northwestern Malaysia.

After some initial hotel drama and a few phone calls to the Expedia pirates we were able to check in to our hotel. The clock had already stuck 10 and our options for food and intoxication were limited. In the spirt of adventure and despite the exhaustion, the Admiral and Captain went on a scout mission to explore the newfound land. The Captains 48-hour food poisoned fast was concluded with a mushroom soup and small personal pan pizza at Pizza hut. The first observation of the island was that of the reappearance of indoor kitchens and the concept of refrigeration of perishable goods. Feeling the energy slowly re-enter his body, his stomach was getting reacquainted with it role in breaking down food matter.

The first day on the island started once again with skipping breakfast, we were soon planning our adventures for the next few days. This Island had a LOT to do and explore. So without wasting any time on food, or any other necessities we were off and first up was the mighty Langkawi Cable car complex. The cable car takes you to a view point that is 708m above sea-level and is about 5 °C cooler than the lowlands. The total length is 2.2 km - The gradient or the slope between the Base Station and the Middle Station is said to be the second steepest in the world at 42°, right after Israel's Rosh HaNikra cable car. Here the views were special. Just breath-taking. #nowords (you might get this hashtag a few times in this log), photos, selfies and everything touristy later, we headed down and explored the remainder of the complex. First up was a Sky Dome which was a half dome like ceiling cinema – here we were shown a random film of us on a rollercoaster on mars – the graphics resembled rollercoaster tycoon 2 (a game released in 2002). Keeping the kids entertained we got into it and started putting our arms in the air and yelling as if we were in a normal rollercoaster. I don’t think the Adults in the show understood. Next up was the Sky Rex. A 3D ride which might be a law suit waiting to happen if the Jurassic park franchise find out. A train that’s taken to a 360-degree cinema in which we watch 3d movie Dinosaur park malfunction with T-Rex attacking our little car as it moved about on the spot. Once again the Adults did not appreciate the Admiral and Captain yelling about like the children. The last attraction to visit was the 3d art gallery. Known as Art in Paradise, this is the largest 3D art museum in Malaysia and the second largest in the world. Despite the Captain’s constant cringing at the tourist poses amongst the artwork, the Admiral managed to get in the mood and take a few engulfing art photographs. Finishing up a day’s worth of activities we left the complex only to see a road sign pointing to the Seven Wells waterfalls. Despite the heat and the 600 steps we had to endure the Admiral and Captain were hiking up to the waterfalls, here the Admiral took a quick dip as the Captain lulled around exhausted in the shade. Just when you thought that the day was packed enough, we were on-board a taxi to Cenang Beach, the tourist hub of Langkawi. This place was a girl’s best friend, shopping left right and centre, the next few hours was dedicated to grabbing gifts and pushing the haggling to the limit. Although there was an instance when the Admiral requested the shop keeper to lower the price to MYR10 when the item was only MYR5 #nowords. The day finished up with some Indian food at a restaurant which had rats, getting overcharged and a 50% surcharge on the cab ride home due to the late night fees.

Day 2 of Island life started early, this time we snuck in a running breakfast as our pickup arrived to take us away to the MegaSports jet ski tour. The jet ski tour consisted of 12 participants and 2 instructors. The tour involved you to pilot your own jet ski for 5 hours, as you hit the open ocean to visit 8 islands around Langkawi. This has to be one of my favourite experiences of my life, I cannot explain how fun it was #nowords. Open Ocean. Personal Jet ski. Top speed: 70 KM per hour. Recommended speed: 60kmph. Choppy ocean waters. Summer Sun. Most beautiful water. Picturesque surroundings. The Captain and Admiral were in heaven. Born to pirate, the next 5 hours involved almost capsizing 6 times, multiple instances of the jet ski feeling like it’s going to break, large portions of airtime and constant yelling at the top of our lungs. At some point the Captain, despite warnings from the tour operators discovered how to change the jet ski into sports mode, what ensued was a lot more airtime and a significant more amount of yelling from the Admiral. We were able to swim in a freshwater lake, swim in the ocean, see a random monkey fight break out and take some open water selfies. This is a MUST do for any visitor to Langkawi. Despite the instructor warning us to keep re-applying sunscreen the Admiral disembarked the jet ski looking like a lobster. Her legs looking like the Harvey Dent of Langkawi - half burnt to a crisp and the other half, white like a line of the Colombia’s finest. Up next was SkyTrex – a Jungle obstacle course. Unfortunately for the Admiral the words beginner or amateur does not exist in the Captain’s vocabulary, Intermediate course was selected (l33t > Noob). Challenging, physically exhausting, arms weak, palms are sweaty and if we continued even for 5 minutes more there would be vomit on his sweater already – mom’s spaghetti. The next 90 minutes were spent, climbing on ladders to the top of trees, crawling through nets, balancing over Highwire and Ziplining across treetops. All done 22 meters above ground, with safety clips that needed to be attached and detached to metal wires as you proceeded. This was tough. At times the Captain’s arms gave up and he just wanted to fall. Sweat reached points of his body he did not know it could venture. Yet both Admiral and Captain continued – completing the course in above average time. Completing the course felt like body pump, CrossFit and boot camp session combined and completed in 33 degrees blaring sun. Drenched, limp but not defeated the Captain and Admiral headed back to the hotel. The sheer adrenaline still pumping through us, we decided to walk up to the famous Langkawi eagle. Departing the hotel with a 25-minute walk timeframe in mind, the walk took an exhausting 70 minutes. Unimpressed by the giant statue of the eagle, we convinced the staff at Papa Rich to feed us and we headed back for a much-needed rest.

Breakfast was a miss again as we slept to give the body some time to heal. The Admiral had entered Lobster life, her legs resembling the local rambutans, the Captain’s shoulders had also been cooked but, unlike the admiral the pain was non-existent. Without wasting any time, we left to visit the secluded and beautiful beach of Tanjung Rhu. The sun in full form was bleaching the beach with its heat, we decided to find some shade and sit. Here the captain decided to change into his bathers without taking off his shorts, the challenge was great and the result was a commando style Captain. it was not long before the the heat became uncomfortable, we went to the local ghetto food store (making sure they had electricity and a fridge), here both the Admiral and Captain managed to stomach some of the food presented. Post our semi eaten meals, the Captain heard the calling of water vessels – following his instinct both the Admiral and Captain ended up at the jetty and were able to convince a local sailor to show them around the famous Langkawi mangroves. We boarded the speedboat and were off, the feeling of the air hitting your face as you criuse the most beautiful landscape is incredible and not able to be captured by camera #nowords. We sailed around, being taken to see the sea eagles and the Langkawi eagles feasting on chicken skin, then off to see some monkeys as they boarded, and possibly overran another tourist vessel. Next up was the Crocodile cave - nope I was not able to feed the Admiral to crocodiles, as there were none or ever were any. Followed by a bat cave, no not ‘THE’ bat cave (disappointment on the Captain’s face was evident) where we saw some hanging rocks (stalactites) and bats!. There were bats just doing the bat thing (no not fighting crime). As we left the caves, the Captain heard something move in the water under him only to see a GIANT (3 meters long at least) lizard as it ran into the cave. Thinking this could be Marvel and DC crossover, he left it and the tour continued. Last up on the tour was the Fish farm. Here some crazy fish farm guy took us around as he picked up and held crabs, sharks, giant squids and the infamous pufferfish. Personally, the Captain thought the guy was going to die. The Admiral on the other hand, feeling adventurous, held the crab and proceeded to pat a Sting Ray (we may have a new Steve Irwin on our hands). The slimy and sandpaper texture of the Stingray failed to impress the Admiral and the Captain grossed out, refused to touch her ever in his life. The tour done and dusted the crew headed back to base, a quick dip in a cold pool, some room service club sandwich later they were on their way to Cenang beach to indulge in the party life. Going first to the local night markets, which were a sea of colour for all senses. The smells indescribable, it was looking like pagoda life was sneaking back in. We then headed back to Cenang, here disaster lifted its ugly head – when the captain went to withdraw money, the ATM processed the withdrawal but didn’t give any cash out. A stressful time ensued contacting banks and raising disputes. Stay tuned to see how this pans out. Breaking away from the mood spoiling experience we ventured to the beach where we were jet skiing a few days ago, we found a very buzzing night life, with beach bars and shisha cafes littered across the landscape. The Admiral pointed out a bar which had beanbags – fascinated we took a seat and asked for the menu, 5 minutes later, the admiral was sipping on a mojito and holding the shisha pipe, whilst the captain had in his had a GIANT bucket of Vodka and lemonade. I have to take time out to explain how big this bucket was – it was DOUBLE the size of the ones in Thailand with 450 ml of Vodka. The next 4 hours consisted of shisha and bucket sipping. Finally getting up heavily intoxicated and stumbling out onto the Cenang strip, most places shutting for the night we decided to pay homage to our roots and do a drunk maccas run. Tip: when in Aisa do not order the Prosperity burger at McDonalds unless you are looking for Pepper in the middle of 2 burger buns. The night was over for both of us when we boarded the cab and struggled into our room collapsing on our beds and passing out.

Hung over from the Captains bucket idea and dedicated to not missing breakfast on our last day, we entered the dining halls of our hotel 15 minutes before the breakfast was over. Still tasting last night’s Mcdonalds burgers, we sipped on our coffees and hoped the chatter in the room would just cease. With 12 hours remaining before our flight we packed up and left our bags and ventured to visit the unimpressive eagle once again, hanging in the mall to avoid the sun. The Admiral found a park and we lay in the gazebo surrounded by geckos (5) that were planning a civil uprising (tensions were high when we left). Here we rested before grabbing some kababs for lunch and moving to Starbucks for some WiFi and dirty chai latte like the Captain has never had before (a chai teabag dipped in milk and 2 shots of coffee). With nothing exceptional to report from the last few hours of the Langkawi adventure we departed for the airport, knowing that the closing hours of 2016 were inching closer.

#work #langkawi

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