Couple from Armenia here: we've been to the festival last year for the first time and we're definitely visiting it again this year. We're trying to get ahead of things by planning this trip very thoroughly this time, so we don't run into previous mistakes, like traffic, exhaustion, getting into the site on time and etc.
As per a couple of sources, a total of 80k guests visited Lisi Wonderland last year in the scope of the festival. Reaching the site has been a menace: we had to walk around 7 kilometers from Shartava street. The first day we attempted to reach the place by taxi and the driver kicked us out and left us on the street saying "I will not sit in traffic for hours no matter how much you pay me" even tho I repeatedly reassured the guy that I'll properly compensate him, but I obviously understand the poor fella too. It rained too, so it was chaotic and I'm looking for some tips or tricks to help us reach the site easier.
We're going to stay in the old town area as there's a hotel that we enjoy staying and we get great prices from them directly. Here's my plan after little bit of research: In any case, taking the metro from Liberty Square to Medical University station will be a life-changer, which then leaves us with about 6.4km till the site. We will try to bring bikes along, but then the festival itself is chaotic and no matter how well we lock our bikes, in between all of that mess, people still will be able to use a wire/bolt cutter and steal the bikes. I'm not saying regular festival goers, but come on, the gypsies and crooks.

1. If we can't manage to bring bikes, what are our chances of getting bike or electro scooter (Jet) rental from the Medical University metro station area given a lotta people will also attempt the same, and here's the million dollar question: does the area coverage of the scooter include the festival site? I mean will the scooter allow us to ride and leave it in that area? Also the downside to this is that we don't have a Georgian bank card, so we pretty much can't rent a scooter or a bike.
   
2. Are there any bicycle rental companies in Tbilisi where we can rent a bike for 2 days if we can't bring ours from Yerevan?
   
3. Is it worth trying to drive to the site by car but like at around 2PMish? Or will the traffic still be the same?
   
4. Are there any good accommodations near the festival site? Is it worth biking a room in that area? (Personally, I'm not a big fan of this, as I'd still wanna be downtown in the daytime to relax and also food places are much better downtown).
   

We can turn this into a general Tbilisi Open Air thread and throw in as much information and tips as possible. Thanks in advance!

I will be heading into Worcester to catch a game with my family. I understand street parking on meters are free on Sundays. How difficult is it to find free parking near the park on game day? Any areas to increase the chances of finding free parkiing?
We will be coming alittle late, and our hotel (which has paid parking) is a bit far away to get there and walk to the game with kids.
Thanks for any help!

About me: I'm a caucasian male, black hair, brown eyes, approximately 5'8", roughly ~140lbs range. A bit of pudge but I think I wear it well. I'm diabetic, and some diabetic neuropathy has lead to nerve damage in my lower half. Minor hit to performance which causes some concern, and part of my inclination to go to this degree to find someone as I'm afraid it's only a matter of time until I lose performance entirely and would have to rely on medications.
I've never been tested for it, but I believe I'm somewhat on the autism spectrum. I have some social anxiety issues when it comes to talking to people, some days are certainly better than others but when it's bad it's bad. I can also be pretty dour at times due to depression, and unfortunately the root of that isn't something that can easily be resolved.
Interests: Spend a lot of my time playing video games, since it's something I can do alone that doesn't require me to arrange with other people, most of the time. Been going through a big backlog of titles lately since I've decided to actually start checking off titles. I occasionally pick up an anime every so often but I don't follow any near as much as I used to.
I spend a lot of time on tabletop roleplaying games; Pathfinder, Dungeons & Dragons and the like. I've been DMing games in various systems for near on 22 years now. It's one of my major means of social interaction with people and something I find it very easy to bond with people over as the experience of a long-time campaign can make it pretty easy to foster a kind of kinship with people that you start to see as battle buddies that have been through some real grueling shit.
I'm also something of a writer, if this autobiography in progress isn't any indication.
Likes, Desires, Expectations: I'd like to find a woman within 21-36 range, 21 is hard minimum but upper range is flexible to ~40s range. Preferably also a virgin so we can both fumble through things together, but I know that's pretty unlikely and just me wanting to avoid a bit of the embarrassment that's sure to come about. Body type isn't much of an issue, I like slim and toned as much as I like plus and curvy and honestly lean more towards the heavier side if it comes down to a choice. I'm also not opposed to being with a transwoman, but with the additional caveat that I'm going to be a little more demanding on appearance. There's a line of femininity that has to be crossed before I mentally register someone as a woman regardless of their equipment, and that line is important because if I don't register someone as feminine enough it just won't work.
If this goes in the direction of a relationship, I'd like someone that doesn't mind being with a homebody that likes indoor activities, though I'm not against taking trips out to nature or visiting entertainment venues, I'm not a bar guy and being around large amounts of people makes me nervous and anxious after a while. I would make a prime househusband though and I like a specific kind of organization for peak efficiency when it comes to daily routines.
I'm down to just be V-crushed if it comes to that, but I would hope to meet someone who might be interested in more than just swapping fluids and a crisp handshake to end. I feel like there's so much more to experience in sex than just the physical act and the greatest component I want is the emotional connection of two people who care for each other as more than just something to make them feel good. I'm also kind of worried that I'd catch feelings and having such an experience with someone who is just going to then walk out of my life might just hurt, so I'd prefer if they're someone who will be around with me afterwards. If I really just wanted to dip my wick I know women that take payment for that, but that's not the experience I want.
Arrangement Concerns: I could host as I live alone but I don't know how soundproof the walls are here, though I'd also be fine with a hotel as it would probably be a better atmosphere. Unfortunately it would be too complicated for me to travel out to meet someone elsewhere as I don't have a cell phone, once I leave my apartment to go somewhere I am unable to be reached until direct in person contact is made and in today's day and age that's made it practically impossible to exist, and trying to arrange a meet outside of my city is taking a huge risk in case something goes wrong and I don't know if my anxiety could take it. The best I could possibly do is arrange to get out to Oasis in Toronto, but that's a long-term preparation kind of situation I'd only commit on with a rock solid plan in place.
In summary: Overly verbose nerd seeks a woman looking for a house gremlin that'll keep the place clean. I want help ending my feelings of solitude but I can't go far to find it. Reaching out in hope there's someone else out there looking to end their loneliness, or at least notch their post one more time. If nothing else, I hope I can find some new people to talk to. Every new face in my life is one more strand in a social web that might finally link me to someone that can fulfill my dreams.
If I sound like someone you'd like to take a shot with, send me a DM, not a chat. I dislike the chat system and probably won't notice it any sooner than a DM anyway. Tell me a little about yourself and what part of my post convinced you to message me.
Thank you for coming to my TED talk.

In 1963, Rose Cheramie was a heroin addict with a long list of prostitution and other arrests. According to a Louisiana State Police report from mid-November 1963, she worked “as a dope runner for Jack Ruby,” and had “worked in the night club for Ruby and that she was forced to go to Florida with another man whom she did not name to pick up a shipment of dope to take back to Dallas and that she didn’t want to do this thing but she had a young child and that they would hurt her child if she didn’t.” On November 20, two days before the JFK assassination, she was thrown out of a brothel in Louisiana by the two men she was traveling with and was hit by a car. Suffering from heroin withdrawal, she was taken to East Louisiana State Mental Hospital by Lt. Fruge of the Louisiana State Police to sober up.
During the ride to the hospital, Rose told Fruge she was traveling from Florida to Dallas with two Italian looking men and they were going to Dallas to kill Kennedy. They were actually Cuban exiles active in the war against Fidel Castro. One was Sergio Arcacha Smith, who worked closely with JFK assassination suspect Guy Banister in New Orleans. David Lewis, a former employee of Banister, told the New Orleans DA’s Office that he had witnessed a meeting in the late summer of 1963 at Mancuso’s Restaurant in New Orleans between Arcacha, Lee Harvey Oswald and a man named Carlos whose last name Lewis did not know.
Dr. Victor Weis, a psychiatrist at the hospital, confirmed that Cheramie also told him that she knew both Ruby and Oswald and had seen them together on several occasions in Ruby’s club. The word spread throughout the hospital that Cheramie had predicted the JFK assassination and had implicated Jack Ruby. On November 25, Louisiana State Police Captain Ben Morgan came to the hospital to hear her story first-hand. The next day, Fruge and Morgan flew in a small private jet to Houston and everything she said checked out. Customs found her reservation at the Rice Hotel; the boat identified by Rose, the SS Maturata, was due in port soon; and an agent confirmed that the Dallas man holding Cheramie’s child was a suspected drug dealer. Rose said the seaman aboard the ship was named Luther, and Houston police records show that “Luther” may have been Joseph P. Luke, a narcotic trafficker who was closely associated with Joseph Civello of the Dallas Mafia, who worked for Carlos Marcello. Customs corroborated Rose’s information that the Houston and Dallas Mafia families were involved, and both “had records or reputations for narcotics [and] white slavery [prostitution].” However, when Captained Morgan phoned Capt. Fritz of the Dallas Police to relay the evidence they had, amazingly he was told they were not interested in Rose’s story.
Not surprisingly, customs agents lost track of the seaman they were tailing, and they didn’t bother to interview the Mafia families involved or place them under surveillance. The Houston police wanted to drop the investigation. The Secret Service filed a report, but that was it. Years later, Congressional investigators wrote that when they looked into the matter, “US Customs was unable to locate documents and reports related to its involvement in the Cheramie investigation,” although such involvement was not denied.
Also in November 1963, Carlos Marcello was acquitted at trial in the government’s latest attempt to have him deported, but Rose would attempt one last time to convince authorities to take down the New Orleans Mafia boss. In August 1965, she told FBI agents that “individuals associated with the syndicate were running prostitution rings in several southern cities such as Houston and Galveston, Texas…furthermore, she claimed she had information about a heroin deal operating from a New Orleans ship.” Congressional investigators found that her story checked out, just as her November 1963 information had. An FBI “call to the Coast Guard verified an ongoing narcotics investigation of the ship” Cheramie had named. The prostitution ring she described sounded very much like an operation run by Marcello lieutenant Nofio Pecora, whom Jack Ruby had called just three weeks before JFK’s assassination. However, as in 1963, the New Orleans FBI, who turned a blind eye to Marcello’s illegal operations, dropped the case. Had the FBI and the Federal Bureau of Narcotics pursued the matter, they would have uncovered a heroin trail through New Orleans that reached all the way to France.
One month after Rose contacted the FBI in August 1965, she was dead. Congressional investigators found that “Cheramie died of injuries received from an automobile accident on a strip of highway near Big Sandy, Tex., in the early morning of September 4, 1965. The driver stated Cheramie had been lying in the roadway and although he attempted to avoid hitting her, he ran over the top of her skull, causing fatal injuries.” Though her official autopsy records had disappeared by the time investigators had tried to find them, one medical file that survived said that Rose had a “deep punctuate stellate [star-shaped] wound above her right forehead.” Such a wound would not have been caused by a car or tire but could have been caused by a pistol fired next to her skull. Dr. Charles Crenshaw claimed in his book that the wound was consistent with “gunshot wounds - that is, when a gun barrel is placed against a victim’s body and discharged. It is especially applicable to a gunshot wound of the skull.”
And the Mafia in Louisiana and Texas continued operation as if nothing had happened. For more stories like this, check out the books, It Did Not Start With JFK, The Decades of Events That Led to the Assassination of John F. Kennedy, Volumes 1 &2, published by Sunbury Press.
Rose Cheramie
https://preview.redd.it/6p0poo9pigra1.png?width=595&format=png&auto=webp&s=60fbc3b935c0f9960a89dd093722735248984f28
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In 1963, Rose Cheramie was a heroin addict with a long list of prostitution and other arrests. According to a Louisiana State Police report from mid-November 1963, she worked “as a dope runner for Jack Ruby,” and had “worked in the night club for Ruby and that she was forced to go to Florida with another man whom she did not name to pick up a shipment of dope to take back to Dallas and that she didn’t want to do this thing but she had a young child and that they would hurt her child if she didn’t.” On November 20, two days before the JFK assassination, she was thrown out of a brothel in Louisiana by the two men she was traveling with and was hit by a car. Suffering from heroin withdrawal, she was taken to East Louisiana State Mental Hospital by Lt. Fruge of the Louisiana State Police to sober up.
During the ride to the hospital, Rose told Fruge she was traveling from Florida to Dallas with two Italian looking men and they were going to Dallas to kill Kennedy. They were actually Cuban exiles active in the war against Fidel Castro. One was Sergio Arcacha Smith, who worked closely with JFK assassination suspect Guy Banister in New Orleans. David Lewis, a former employee of Banister, told the New Orleans DA’s Office that he had witnessed a meeting in the late summer of 1963 at Mancuso’s Restaurant in New Orleans between Arcacha, Lee Harvey Oswald and a man named Carlos whose last name Lewis did not know.
Dr. Victor Weis, a psychiatrist at the hospital, confirmed that Cheramie also told him that she knew both Ruby and Oswald and had seen them together on several occasions in Ruby’s club. The word spread throughout the hospital that Cheramie had predicted the JFK assassination and had implicated Jack Ruby. On November 25, Louisiana State Police Captain Ben Morgan came to the hospital to hear her story first-hand. The next day, Fruge and Morgan flew in a small private jet to Houston and everything she said checked out. Customs found her reservation at the Rice Hotel; the boat identified by Rose, the SS Maturata, was due in port soon; and an agent confirmed that the Dallas man holding Cheramie’s child was a suspected drug dealer. Rose said the seaman aboard the ship was named Luther, and Houston police records show that “Luther” may have been Joseph P. Luke, a narcotic trafficker who was closely associated with Joseph Civello of the Dallas Mafia, who worked for Carlos Marcello. Customs corroborated Rose’s information that the Houston and Dallas Mafia families were involved, and both “had records or reputations for narcotics [and] white slavery [prostitution].” However, when Captained Morgan phoned Capt. Fritz of the Dallas Police to relay the evidence they had, amazingly he was told they were not interested in Rose’s story.
Not surprisingly, customs agents lost track of the seaman they were tailing, and they didn’t bother to interview the Mafia families involved or place them under surveillance. The Houston police wanted to drop the investigation. The Secret Service filed a report, but that was it. Years later, Congressional investigators wrote that when they looked into the matter, “US Customs was unable to locate documents and reports related to its involvement in the Cheramie investigation,” although such involvement was not denied.
Also in November 1963, Carlos Marcello was acquitted at trial in the government’s latest attempt to have him deported, but Rose would attempt one last time to convince authorities to take down the New Orleans Mafia boss. In August 1965, she told FBI agents that “individuals associated with the syndicate were running prostitution rings in several southern cities such as Houston and Galveston, Texas…furthermore, she claimed she had information about a heroin deal operating from a New Orleans ship.” Congressional investigators found that her story checked out, just as her November 1963 information had. An FBI “call to the Coast Guard verified an ongoing narcotics investigation of the ship” Cheramie had named. The prostitution ring she described sounded very much like an operation run by Marcello lieutenant Nofio Pecora, whom Jack Ruby had called just three weeks before JFK’s assassination. However, as in 1963, the New Orleans FBI, who turned a blind eye to Marcello’s illegal operations, dropped the case. Had the FBI and the Federal Bureau of Narcotics pursued the matter, they would have uncovered a heroin trail through New Orleans that reached all the way to France.
One month after Rose contacted the FBI in August 1965, she was dead. Congressional investigators found that “Cheramie died of injuries received from an automobile accident on a strip of highway near Big Sandy, Tex., in the early morning of September 4, 1965. The driver stated Cheramie had been lying in the roadway and although he attempted to avoid hitting her, he ran over the top of her skull, causing fatal injuries.” Though her official autopsy records had disappeared by the time investigators had tried to find them, one medical file that survived said that Rose had a “deep punctuate stellate [star-shaped] wound above her right forehead.” Such a wound would not have been caused by a car or tire but could have been caused by a pistol fired next to her skull. Dr. Charles Crenshaw claimed in his book that the wound was consistent with “gunshot wounds - that is, when a gun barrel is placed against a victim’s body and discharged. It is especially applicable to a gunshot wound of the skull.”
And the Mafia in Louisiana and Texas continued operation as if nothing had happened. For more stories like this, check out the books, It Did Not Start With JFK, The Decades of Events That Led to the Assassination of John F. Kennedy, Volumes 1 &2, published by Sunbury Press.
Rose Cheramie
https://preview.redd.it/5q8fm7z7igra1.png?width=595&format=png&auto=webp&s=8e3d51fb043d0027218da133b903d175842245b7
https://preview.redd.it/7aht2by8igra1.png?width=251&format=png&auto=webp&s=a124a4478f8361cbeddaed3c9ec51d2800686e4a
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In 1963, Rose Cheramie was a heroin addict with a long list of prostitution and other arrests. According to a Louisiana State Police report from mid-November 1963, she worked “as a dope runner for Jack Ruby,” and had “worked in the night club for Ruby and that she was forced to go to Florida with another man whom she did not name to pick up a shipment of dope to take back to Dallas and that she didn’t want to do this thing but she had a young child and that they would hurt her child if she didn’t.” On November 20, two days before the JFK assassination, she was thrown out of a brothel in Louisiana by the two men she was traveling with and was hit by a car. Suffering from heroin withdrawal, she was taken to East Louisiana State Mental Hospital by Lt. Fruge of the Louisiana State Police to sober up.
During the ride to the hospital, Rose told Fruge she was traveling from Florida to Dallas with two Italian looking men and they were going to Dallas to kill Kennedy. They were actually Cuban exiles active in the war against Fidel Castro. One was Sergio Arcacha Smith, who worked closely with JFK assassination suspect Guy Banister in New Orleans. David Lewis, a former employee of Banister, told the New Orleans DA’s Office that he had witnessed a meeting in the late summer of 1963 at Mancuso’s Restaurant in New Orleans between Arcacha, Lee Harvey Oswald and a man named Carlos whose last name Lewis did not know.
Dr. Victor Weis, a psychiatrist at the hospital, confirmed that Cheramie also told him that she knew both Ruby and Oswald and had seen them together on several occasions in Ruby’s club. The word spread throughout the hospital that Cheramie had predicted the JFK assassination and had implicated Jack Ruby. On November 25, Louisiana State Police Captain Ben Morgan came to the hospital to hear her story first-hand. The next day, Fruge and Morgan flew in a small private jet to Houston and everything she said checked out. Customs found her reservation at the Rice Hotel; the boat identified by Rose, the SS Maturata, was due in port soon; and an agent confirmed that the Dallas man holding Cheramie’s child was a suspected drug dealer. Rose said the seaman aboard the ship was named Luther, and Houston police records show that “Luther” may have been Joseph P. Luke, a narcotic trafficker who was closely associated with Joseph Civello of the Dallas Mafia, who worked for Carlos Marcello. Customs corroborated Rose’s information that the Houston and Dallas Mafia families were involved, and both “had records or reputations for narcotics [and] white slavery [prostitution].” However, when Captained Morgan phoned Capt. Fritz of the Dallas Police to relay the evidence they had, amazingly he was told they were not interested in Rose’s story.
Not surprisingly, customs agents lost track of the seaman they were tailing, and they didn’t bother to interview the Mafia families involved or place them under surveillance. The Houston police wanted to drop the investigation. The Secret Service filed a report, but that was it. Years later, Congressional investigators wrote that when they looked into the matter, “US Customs was unable to locate documents and reports related to its involvement in the Cheramie investigation,” although such involvement was not denied.
Also in November 1963, Carlos Marcello was acquitted at trial in the government’s latest attempt to have him deported, but Rose would attempt one last time to convince authorities to take down the New Orleans Mafia boss. In August 1965, she told FBI agents that “individuals associated with the syndicate were running prostitution rings in several southern cities such as Houston and Galveston, Texas…furthermore, she claimed she had information about a heroin deal operating from a New Orleans ship.” Congressional investigators found that her story checked out, just as her November 1963 information had. An FBI “call to the Coast Guard verified an ongoing narcotics investigation of the ship” Cheramie had named. The prostitution ring she described sounded very much like an operation run by Marcello lieutenant Nofio Pecora, whom Jack Ruby had called just three weeks before JFK’s assassination. However, as in 1963, the New Orleans FBI, who turned a blind eye to Marcello’s illegal operations, dropped the case. Had the FBI and the Federal Bureau of Narcotics pursued the matter, they would have uncovered a heroin trail through New Orleans that reached all the way to France.
One month after Rose contacted the FBI in August 1965, she was dead. Congressional investigators found that “Cheramie died of injuries received from an automobile accident on a strip of highway near Big Sandy, Tex., in the early morning of September 4, 1965. The driver stated Cheramie had been lying in the roadway and although he attempted to avoid hitting her, he ran over the top of her skull, causing fatal injuries.” Though her official autopsy records had disappeared by the time investigators had tried to find them, one medical file that survived said that Rose had a “deep punctuate stellate [star-shaped] wound above her right forehead.” Such a wound would not have been caused by a car or tire but could have been caused by a pistol fired next to her skull. Dr. Charles Crenshaw claimed in his book that the wound was consistent with “gunshot wounds - that is, when a gun barrel is placed against a victim’s body and discharged. It is especially applicable to a gunshot wound of the skull.”
And the Mafia in Louisiana and Texas continued operation as if nothing had happened. For more stories like this, check out the books, It Did Not Start With JFK, The Decades of Events That Led to the Assassination of John F. Kennedy, Volumes 1 &2, published by Sunbury Press.
Rose Cheramie
https://preview.redd.it/kkv7txumhgra1.png?width=595&format=png&auto=webp&s=a2c7a53fca5836f9a852583e736a47b73fba684d
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https://preview.redd.it/h6p759lohgra1.jpg?width=100&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=cf46aae48c80d6debb1643abf382f6010e8a11ca

In 1963, Rose Cheramie was a heroin addict with a long list of prostitution and other arrests. According to a Louisiana State Police report from mid-November 1963, she worked “as a dope runner for Jack Ruby,” and had “worked in the night club for Ruby and that she was forced to go to Florida with another man whom she did not name to pick up a shipment of dope to take back to Dallas and that she didn’t want to do this thing but she had a young child and that they would hurt her child if she didn’t.” On November 20, two days before the JFK assassination, she was thrown out of a brothel in Louisiana by the two men she was traveling with and was hit by a car. Suffering from heroin withdrawal, she was taken to East Louisiana State Mental Hospital by Lt. Fruge of the Louisiana State Police to sober up.
During the ride to the hospital, Rose told Fruge she was traveling from Florida to Dallas with two Italian looking men and they were going to Dallas to kill Kennedy. They were actually Cuban exiles active in the war against Fidel Castro. One was Sergio Arcacha Smith, who worked closely with JFK assassination suspect Guy Banister in New Orleans. David Lewis, a former employee of Banister, told the New Orleans DA’s Office that he had witnessed a meeting in the late summer of 1963 at Mancuso’s Restaurant in New Orleans between Arcacha, Lee Harvey Oswald and a man named Carlos whose last name Lewis did not know.
Dr. Victor Weis, a psychiatrist at the hospital, confirmed that Cheramie also told him that she knew both Ruby and Oswald and had seen them together on several occasions in Ruby’s club. The word spread throughout the hospital that Cheramie had predicted the JFK assassination and had implicated Jack Ruby. On November 25, Louisiana State Police Captain Ben Morgan came to the hospital to hear her story first-hand. The next day, Fruge and Morgan flew in a small private jet to Houston and everything she said checked out. Customs found her reservation at the Rice Hotel; the boat identified by Rose, the SS Maturata, was due in port soon; and an agent confirmed that the Dallas man holding Cheramie’s child was a suspected drug dealer. Rose said the seaman aboard the ship was named Luther, and Houston police records show that “Luther” may have been Joseph P. Luke, a narcotic trafficker who was closely associated with Joseph Civello of the Dallas Mafia, who worked for Carlos Marcello. Customs corroborated Rose’s information that the Houston and Dallas Mafia families were involved, and both “had records or reputations for narcotics [and] white slavery [prostitution].” However, when Captained Morgan phoned Capt. Fritz of the Dallas Police to relay the evidence they had, amazingly he was told they were not interested in Rose’s story.
Not surprisingly, customs agents lost track of the seaman they were tailing, and they didn’t bother to interview the Mafia families involved or place them under surveillance. The Houston police wanted to drop the investigation. The Secret Service filed a report, but that was it. Years later, Congressional investigators wrote that when they looked into the matter, “US Customs was unable to locate documents and reports related to its involvement in the Cheramie investigation,” although such involvement was not denied.
Also in November 1963, Carlos Marcello was acquitted at trial in the government’s latest attempt to have him deported, but Rose would attempt one last time to convince authorities to take down the New Orleans Mafia boss. In August 1965, she told FBI agents that “individuals associated with the syndicate were running prostitution rings in several southern cities such as Houston and Galveston, Texas…furthermore, she claimed she had information about a heroin deal operating from a New Orleans ship.” Congressional investigators found that her story checked out, just as her November 1963 information had. An FBI “call to the Coast Guard verified an ongoing narcotics investigation of the ship” Cheramie had named. The prostitution ring she described sounded very much like an operation run by Marcello lieutenant Nofio Pecora, whom Jack Ruby had called just three weeks before JFK’s assassination. However, as in 1963, the New Orleans FBI, who turned a blind eye to Marcello’s illegal operations, dropped the case. Had the FBI and the Federal Bureau of Narcotics pursued the matter, they would have uncovered a heroin trail through New Orleans that reached all the way to France.
One month after Rose contacted the FBI in August 1965, she was dead. Congressional investigators found that “Cheramie died of injuries received from an automobile accident on a strip of highway near Big Sandy, Tex., in the early morning of September 4, 1965. The driver stated Cheramie had been lying in the roadway and although he attempted to avoid hitting her, he ran over the top of her skull, causing fatal injuries.” Though her official autopsy records had disappeared by the time investigators had tried to find them, one medical file that survived said that Rose had a “deep punctuate stellate [star-shaped] wound above her right forehead.” Such a wound would not have been caused by a car or tire but could have been caused by a pistol fired next to her skull. Dr. Charles Crenshaw claimed in his book that the wound was consistent with “gunshot wounds - that is, when a gun barrel is placed against a victim’s body and discharged. It is especially applicable to a gunshot wound of the skull.”
And the Mafia in Louisiana and Texas continued operation as if nothing had happened. For more stories like this, check out the books, It Did Not Start With JFK, The Decades of Events That Led to the Assassination of John F. Kennedy, Volumes 1 &2, published by Sunbury Press.
Rose Cheramie
https://preview.redd.it/zgw1hxs9ggra1.jpg?width=595&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=afc0d6d508e33456be22aee1a961daf4e865731e
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The title is a SERIOUS question. I'm an autistic woman and it's difficult to understand when people are manipulating me and why it's considered okay when someone is obviously lying to me in order to get access to sex and why. I need to understand why someone would use someone they don't like for sex, I can intellectually rationalize it but I truly can't comprehend why someone would do that?
I was used by a filthy, depraved sex tourist. Picture your typical looking passport bro looking for sex in countries with dubious laws and a power dynamic that tips in their favor. I don't judge people based on their appearances but when I showed his pictures to my friends as well as the kinds of matches he got on Tinder that he added on FB, they said it's blatantly obvious that he's looking to exploit girls/women and that he has dead serial killer eyes. I later found out through social media that he used the opportunity of being in a new country to sleep with prostitutes and underage girls since he had DOZENS if not hundreds of prostitute accounts added some with CP and suspiciously looking accounts of other girls obviously still in high school. Stuff he wouldn't get away with back home.
Right after PIV for the first time he started spitting out racial slurs like he couldn't control himself and was holding it in. He then said I wasn't his "type" (nothing was said prior to him successfully shoving his dick in me or using me for other things several weeks in a row, how interesting). Why was I chosen to be treated like this? He doesn't treat other women in his life this way. He was in the country I was in for a short time and saw this as an opportunity to do whatever he wanted without it hurting his reputation at home. Only a few of the people in his life believe me or just don't care that he likes to stick it in underage girls and prostitutes. Do I need to walk with a video camera on me at all times to have enough proof? These predators are smart, they make sure there's no/minimal evidence for what they do to you and if you rightfully call them out and try to warn people about how predatory and damaging they are they try to pass it off as "harassment". He pretends to be woke and feminist (at least when it comes to white women and white women's rights, other women are free game to be used).
E-stalking revealed a lot. He dated an obese, conventionally unattractive much older poorly educated low-income/welfare type woman for several years but never posted a picture together or interacted with her much on social media. She just had her own place and he could mooch off her for a bit with access to sex. He tends to do this with girls be thinks are beneath him, I like that she detailed the entire relationship in a blog. He was so ashamed of her that he didn't even introduce her to his friends. Yet he goes on one date with a lolita "model" and has pictures together up on Facebook, he's currently talking to another lolita "model". He's VERY shallow. I wonder if he starved her on this date? Unlikely.
There's another girl, another older woman that's more his "type", she has some social currency, he started talking to her while he was still shoving his filthy dick in me. She's probably someone else he can take advantage of, financially as well since she's invested in his dumb writing projects. She has her own place and business dealing with children. I suspect they dated for a bit but he tends to get bored even if the woman is his "type". Her health clearly declined with a MASSIVE weight gain, mental health struggles but she continues to believe in him. I hope I can fully exorcize the pickme in me before I reach her age and not be stupid enough to waste ANY of my resources on abusers. He just wants to increase his body count and have another place to rotationally get free sex from, it's unlikely he cares about her well-being. He flat out told me he doesn't care if his ex-girlfriend kills herself and yet this person is blessed with real and authentic friendships that will stand with him in spite of the pain he brings to other people.
Worst of all is that he made up his sister's suicide attempt or used it to shake sex out of me one last time because he knows I have a dead sibling and would sympathize with him. Even if his sister truly tried to kill herself, he still didn't like me and already got PIV which is what he wanted in the first place. It was all a farse, he wanted me to waste my money, time and energy under the guise of a "friendship" to use me. He knew PIV was difficult and extremely painful for me because of vaginismus but he felt entitled to it. Honestly, he's more deranged than imagined. His favorite porn star is a dead ringer for his little sister, the porn star is older but they look EXACTLY alike.
Not once has this demon considered my perspective. I was a student at the time and I was short on cash, I would take the bus and metro to see him and this guy wouldn't even have the courtesy to offer me anything to eat. He looked at me like I was a gold-digger when I asked him for food after we spent several hours together... Uses my body, insults and humiliates me then goes back to his life back home, it all works out for him. He lived out of a hotel (not the filthy cheap kinds he takes his prostitutes to back home) in a foreign country because he's a nepobaby with no actual skills other than lying to girls, and it doesn't cost much to get a $2 sandwich when you know someone is coming over, it costs more to travel to and from there. Once he even rubbed it in my face that he was gonna grab something to eat (without me???) and that shitty $5 cheesecake is "too expensive" (because he gets to use my body for FREE), he probably wouldn't hesitate to spend $5 on a girl he considers human. No one should be forced to date someone they don't like, but is it okay to use someone like a free prostitute? To pretend to like them and coerce them into sex then throw racial slurs at them when they're done? To emotionally manipulate them into thinking you like them? I was a free prostitute, he wasn't the one spending his time, money or exerting any energy to see me, he was faking some kind of emotional connection. He used my body like a human fleshlight and kicked me out whenever he would get hungry or bored just because he wanted to be as cheap as possible and that's how much my body was worth to him. I was always giving him the benefit of the doubt because it didn't make sense to me that people could be this way.
I'm supposed to be a good girl after all the garbage this adult male put on me and be quiet while he gets to move on and repeat this process whenever he feels like. I truly despise him, the women that are his "type", the women he would never dare hurt and I want karma to get him. I'm not getting used by him or people like him again. People that think they're superior because of random characteristics they were born with and that they have a right to hurt people that don't fit their arbitrary patterns of beauty therefore they deserve to be taken advantage of.
I doubt I will forgive myself for allowing myself to be used by someone absolutely vile and horrendous. I didn't get anything out of it besides a venereal disease and trauma thanks to this racist and depraved animal that felt entitled to someone he didn't want. I lived in a backwards religious country at the time where pre-marital sex is illegal and had to wait 2 years before I moved somewhere else to get a full sexual health check up because guess what condoms aren't enough when the guy sleeps with prostitutes from third-world countries and god knows what else.
He even self-published books as a teenager about only ugly girls wanting him, here's the kicker. He's literally less than 5ft3in, started balding before 20 and is chronically either overweight or obese, he tends to lose weight and gain everything back cyclically, right now he's getting close to morbid obesity (based on his more recent pictures). Obviously if I cared about appearances I wouldn't have looked in his direction, except I'm not nearly as shallow as him and saw him as a three dimensional human outside of his physical form. I didn't care and clearly neither of his ex girlfriends either but if he feels entitled to use women that don't meet his physical standards, it's important to take into account his appearance. I used to look down on women that use men for their money since I've never been in the situation where I had to do it for survival, but I kind of get it now? Some men use women like free prostitutes, act like $5 is too much but expect you to waste your time and money on them. I can't comprehend how someone can do this to another person and think it's okay?
I don't plan to have sex ever again, it repulses me to be touched because I genuinely believe that the only partners I attract are people that want to get their maximum use out of me using lies/ coercion/ deceit. I don't have any desire for it after this experience, it pretty much solidified what I already know. I always saw sex as a way to connect with someone, the people I attract see it as entitlement and something similar to going to the toilet and to push for as much as they can despite me being uncomfortable with it. I waited a long time and THIS is what I get. A racist, depraved animal. While he never physically hurt me, he probably would have at some point because it was clear that after he was done, he can't conceptualize me as human, I was merely a resource to exploit.
My first boyfriend when I was barely a teen literally tried to lie to me and took the condom during sex, why do they feel entitled? Why do they push my boundaries? Why is my sexual health of little importance to these predators? Why am I blamed for "letting" it happen? Male "friends" always try to make the conversation sexual. Do I have any worth to these people besides being used like a fleshlight? Someone they feel entitled to take from? Why is it okay for these people to treat others like garbage and calling them out on their behavior is seen as "harassment"?
I have tried to date again and I find the experience overwhelming and exhausting. I can't be open with people, I'm always checking if the information they're telling me is the truth (I even caught other men in lies ie married men, men with girlfriends), I stopped using dating apps after the racist and have made efforts to be more social irl through hobby groups since at the very least these people are attracted to me physically. Except, I don't like men touching me at all in any context whatsoever. I feel like I need to date because that's what's expected, but I can't comprehend the point of dating. I always thought I was missing out, but I'm really not. Even a handshake with the opposite sex makes me squirm. Then I realized, I don't actually have to. Relationships and sex in general is not a basic human need, I would never prey on someone I don't consider human to coerce sex out of them. A lot of people demand sex, act like they go crazy without it and like it's owed to them. Most of his friends (regardless of gender) belive in this and that it's fine to lie and treat people like garbage in order to get access to their bodies.
Why am I expected to get over it when it hurts to be treated this way by people I trusted? I wish I could erase these depraved men from ever entering me, it repulses me that I allowed it, it makes me want to tear off my flesh and skin. The only thing that helps curb these CONSTANT feelings is starving and feeling faint, it's so soothing. I know when men express romantic interest in me it's because they want to take from me and hurt me. All the thoughts zone out. These vile, depraved men get to live happy lives getting the stuff they want while I'm hindered on a daily basis with constant feelings of disgust. I know there are good men out there but I don't want to risk getting hurt by another one of these predators. I can't tell the difference when someone likes me or when someone's using me and my safety is the most important thing.
I took his words at face value but they never aligned with his actions. He took pleasure in confusing and manipulating me. What did it matter to him anyway? He's getting a FREE fleshlight. The money and time spent getting there, the emotional manipulation is irrelevant because it's FREE. He's never had to work for anything in his life (no, his dumb self-published trashy incel books don't count). He's never been through any kind of pain otherwise he wouldn't selectively treat some people the way he does. It's either that or he never viewed me as human from start, he probably thought "as long as I don't physically hurt this thing I can do whatever I want". u/juankiblog

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I'd like to start off by saying my partner is in AA and 8 years sober, so I've talked about this a lot with her but might need some extra thoughts.
I've recently stopped drinking as of just over a month ago but I'm currently in a touring band where the other members drink. We're not at the level yet where we can afford hotel rooms etc, so often it means crashing at people's houses and the sleeping arrangements aren't always ideal. Back home, me and my partner are often in bed by 10pm, so being up til 1/2am when touring is a stretch for me, but I try to push through. I have a diagnosis of fibromyalgia and a medical cannabis prescription, so I'm often on a different wavelength after we play a show. I want to relax and sleep, because I've just used up a lot of energy, but it seems like these guys can just keep going when there's alcohol involved, which is more often than not provided for free by the venue, so it's not like there's any thought in these people's minds to not drink. They can drink on consecutive days and I feel like one of them talks about fitness all the time to distract from the fact that they can't stop drinking (which would actually be one of the healthiest things they can do) I've been a musician nearly all my life and only now being in a band which has some kind of promise/trajectory about 25 years after I started playing, so it's not a simple case of "this lifestyle isn't for me" because if I wasn't in a band, I'm not sure what I'd be doing or where I would be, but I'm really struggling with a mismatch of energy and the lack of sleep combined with the anxiety surrounding potentially more lost sleep is creating challenges for my mental health

Hello, my long-distance boyfriend is coming to visit for a weekend towards the end of April. Last time he visited for the first time and he stayed at a place near the airport. The place he chose was really nice, but it was pretty far away from good places to eat and fun things to do since it was right by the airport. He was really only here for about a day so the few times we ate out were in south Austin and we visited Mayfield. This time he’s here, he’ll have a little more time so I’d like to maybe show him the crescent shopping center, downtown, maybe some of the other cool/cute areas that are north ish like Mueller, Lamar, etc. Does anyone recommend any particular hotels in that area that are cute boutique types that aren’t crazy expensive or maybe non-boutique places that are still decent and maybe in walkable distance from those cute and fun shopping and eating hangout sort of areas?
I’ve tried to do a couple of online searches for cute hotels in north Austin but everything that I’m getting is downtown and really expensive, like $600 a night. I don’t mind downtown as a location, just not trying to go for that price. The Moxy looks pretty cute and is more reasonable like $250 a night so considering that one.
Thanks in advance if anyone has any recommendations! I’ll probably do some more digging online tomorrow, just was hoping maybe there might be some who have already had a similar search and have good recs.

I'm traveling and have a long layover Monday afternoon to Tuesday morning. I havent yet booked a hotel near Queens as I'm open to spending the night with a complete stranger at their place as long as its in nyc. I love cuddling and giving/receiving massages. I'm in my 30s, fit, healthy, and would love a cute romantic date, engaging conversations, and just treating each other with respect and hopefully creating a meaningful connection.

We have been to Corsica several times, and there are several ways to travel to Corsica by ferry: We went to Nice, took the afternoon ferry and were in Bastia in the evening. The next time we took the night ferry from Savona and arrived in Bastia the next morning. And we also went to Livorno once, took the early morning ferry and were in Bastia by noon.
From Bastia, we first headed north on a 110 km coastal road with small villages and breathtaking views. First we came to ERBALUNGA with its massive tower on a rock by the sea has a picturesque location. Then we passed Maccinaggio, Cap Corse, Centuri-Port - a small romantic fishing port and center of lobster fishing - and continued via Pino to Nonza.
In NONZA the houses cluster around a rock that rises 160 m from the sea. We walked up to the Tour Pouline - a fortified tower from the 16th century. From there you can see the black beach, which makes a great contrast to the turquoise sea.
After we had explored the north, we drove from Bastia down the whole east coast - we made a stop at Moriani Plage with a beautiful sandy beach - to Porto Vecchio.
PORTO VECCHIO has a fantastic location and has a lively old town: the Genoese fortress from 1539 is situated on a hill. Porto Vecchio is the third largest city of Corsica, besides the flourishing tourism there is still the traditional salt mining and other trades especially in the suburbs. The malaria mosquitoes were wiped out in the 1950s, so that even in this area could be built without further ado. The old town consists of only four longitudinal and ten transverse streets, it is closed to traffic in the summer. At the Place de la République people like to drink their Pastis or Kir in the evening. In the old town there are many restaurants in various price ranges and boutiques partly with typical products of the country.
Many people come to Porto Vecchio for its beautiful beaches. BENEDUTTU PLAGE - a long fine sandy beach with a view of Punta di Chiappa and also of Porto Vecchio. A part of PLAGE CALA ROSSA is occupied by a luxury hotel, therefore the fine beach is accessible only from the western side. PALOMBAGGIA PLAGE with white sand and turquoise calm water - one of the most beautiful beaches of Corsica - is surrounded by red rocks. At ST. GUILIA PLAGE some hotels are settled in the meantime. Thus, the once paradisiacal bay has now become more of a commercial place. But the beach is still wonderfully bright and the water crystal clear. RODINARA PLAGE - a dreamlike round bay - one of the most beautiful of Corsica. Once only a dirt road led to the lagoon. Since a real road was built, this bay is very busy in the season.
From Porto Vecchio we made a tour to COL DE BAVELLA (1218 m high) - an impressive landscape. There are good hiking trails, e.g. to the Cumpudella (Trou de la Bombe), a huge hole in the rock face, where you are rewarded with an incredible view after a scramble. In season, of course, it is very busy there, and the "real" hikers come as early as possible in the morning.
Near the small village of L'Ospedale is the drinking water reservoir BARRAGE DE L'OSPEDALE. From there you can hike up to the 70 m high waterfall Piscia di Gallo - but it is more worthwhile in spring, when there is still enough water.
From Porto Vecchio we went on to BONIVACIO, one of the great attractions in Corsica - despite the many visitors. The upper town, where we stayed, is built on a 60 m high chalk rock plateau and still has a historical structure. We could see all the way to Sardinia from our hotel - it was beautiful weather.
The harbor is at the end of the long, narrow inlet. From there it is best to make a tour on foot. From the fortress walls you have a fantastic view of the city, the coast and the sea and all the way to Sardinia. On the harbor promenade there is a sea aquarium in a natural grotto. The shore road leads to the fishing port and the ferry port,
The upper town is reached through the 16th century Porte de Gênes. From the Jardin des Vestiges one has the most beautiful view over the harbor. It is hard to walk from the lower town to the upper town, because it is quite steep and with many stairs.
The journey continued to the extreme southwest, the land of blood vengeance - still until 1840. SARTÈNE - the "most Corsican of all Corsican towns" - is an interesting old town, which is virtually stuck on a rock. Almost no ray of sunlight reaches the winding narrow streets, and the narrow multi-story houses sometimes have window holes like sinister defense towers. The center of the old town is the Place de la Libération with some restaurants where you can sit outside and enjoy your drink.
From Sartène we drove to PROPRIANO. This place was discovered late by the tourists, there is a nice promenade between the marina and the pier, where it is lively especially in the evening. Propriano is located on the Gulf of Valinco, here the rivers Taravo, Baracci and Rizzanese flow. Right next to the lighthouse is the beautiful beach Plage du Lido.
On a scenic coastal road you drive from Propriano to PUNTO DE CAMPOMARO. Here is still an unspoiled stretch of coast with calm turquoise water and bizarre granite rocks. Above the small village of Campomoro you can see a 16th century watchtower.
AJACCIO is the administrative center and capital of Corse du Sud. The city with its southern flair has a beautiful old town with the citadel and many restaurants and stores. Ajaccio is probably best known as the birthplace of Napoléon, whose statue can be seen at Place Maréchal Foch. In the evening it becomes lively in the alleys of the Genoese old town with many bars and restaurants.
Unfortunately, the citadel can only be visited as part of an organized guided tour. Worth seeing is the church "Notre-Dame-de-la-Miséricorde" with a large dome, where Napoleon I was baptized. There is of course also a Casa Bonaparte. In the new town, you can still find some magnificent houses on the Avenue de Paris or the Cours Grandval, where there are often stores and boutiques.
Northwest of Ajaccio one comes to the POINTE DE LA PATARA. You can easily walk to the Genoese tower from 1608 from the parking lot. From there you have a beautiful view of the Iles Sanguinaires with the lighthouse. From the parking lot you can also make a coastal hike to the north. There are beautiful views of the sea everywhere and you can walk down to the beach at Capo de la Fena to cool off. However, the surf is quite strong.
The view was magnificent on the CHEMIN DES CRÈTES, but it was also very difficult to even find an "entry" to this trail. And besides, the Macchi was partly so dense that you had to be careful not to hurt yourself on the thorny bushes.
Especially in the south of Ajaccio there are beautiful beaches. First of all there is PORTICCIO with its long wide beach. Porticcio is now a large seaside resort with good infrastructure.
Then comes the bay with the long PLAGE D'AGOSTA with a view of the Isolella peninsula. In the next bay there is the fine sandy Plage de Ruppione between rocks with quite high waves.
And then comes my absolute favorite beach with fine light sand and crystal clear water - SOLE E MARE, and I hope that there will not also be larger hotel and apartment buildings there.
A beautiful small lonely sandy bay with calm water can be found at PLAGE DE PORTIGLIOLO. North of Ajaccio are the beaches PlLAGE SCUDO and PLAGE MARINELLO, very popular with the locals because they are not too far from the city.
From Ajaccio you can make an excursion to PORTO POLLO. On the way we went through the mountains, where we "got lost" a few times, because there were no signs, and we could only drive by "feeling". Porto Pollo is located on the Gulf of Valinco and has a fine sandy beach with many picturesque round rocks. In summer, a lot of people come here. At the end of September however many things are already closed or will be closed.
A recommendable tour south of Ajaccio is the ROUTE DES COLS. Over various passes and through the largest eucalyptus forest on the island, you come to the small village of Coti Chiavari, 486 m high, with a pretty little church. From there you also have beautiful views of the mountains to the sea.
On a hiking tour, we headed towards Corte and then to the small village of Cuttoli-Corticchiato, continuing to the idyllically situated hamlet of San Petru at 888 m above sea level. From there we went to the MONTE ARAGNASCU, a somewhat arduous tour in the blazing sun. But we were rewarded with a beautiful view of Ajaccio, the Gulf and the Gravonatal.
In the GRAVONA VALLEY is the village of Bocognano, from where you can also hike well. We came on the poorly signposted "Chemin", whereby we were also surprised by rain.
Interesting was that we were accompanied all the way first by several dogs, then later one remained. When we eventually had enough of the rain and the bad path and walked back, we encountered some wild boars which did not look very "friendly". The dog started barking at them. And indeed, they sought the distance. It looked like the dog was trying to protect us somehow. Down in the village we met the owner of the dog - the older man invited us spontaneously for coffee - and he told us that his dog was often on the way as a "companion" for hikers.
Another hiking tour led us first to the GORGES DE PRUNELLI and to the reservoir Lac de Tolla, which supplies Ajaccio with water. From there we went to the large farming village of Bastelica, the gateway to the high mountains. From here, many hiking trails lead into the mountains and to some waterfalls.
Another excursion we made towards the north over the Col de San Bastiano to the Golf de la Liscia to CARGÈSE. This place with a small harbor is located on the southern slope of a headland. Worth seeing is the Greek church "Eglise greque" from the 19th century with old icons. North of Cargèse are of course again beautiful sandy beaches.
From Ajaccio in the direction of Corte we looked at the CASCADE DU VOILE DE LA MARIÉe, where the water normally plunges 150 m into the depth. It was quite a climb and then, unfortunately, the waterfall didn't even have too much water at the end of September.
Through beautiful pine forests we came towards Corte past the famous PONT DU VECCHIU, built in 1927 by Gustave Eiffel. Until 1999 this was the only connection across the gorge, but now there is a modern bridge.
CORTE has the only university in Corsica with about 4000 students. The old town, rich in tradition, is situated below a rock with an old fortress built in the 11th century. In 1962-83 this fortress was used by the Foreign Legion. From the Belvedère viewpoint near the citadel, there is a beautiful view of the mountains and the surroundings of Corte.
Also worth seeing is Fontaine des Quatre-Canons, a colossal fountain that served as a water supply for the upper town in times of siege. On Cours Paoli you can find restaurants, bakeries and many other stores. On the Cours Patrimonial, there are some arts and crafts stores. The 17th century church Eglise de l'Annonciation is one of the oldest buildings in Corte.
From Corte we drove along a narrow road through a beautiful mountain landscape to the RESTONICA VALLEY, a nature reserve with many Corte pine trees. By car, you can drive to the parking lot at the Bergerie de Grotelle. The ascent to Lake Melo was quite difficult, you had to climb over many large stones, sometimes you didn't know at all how to continue and had to climb back, and so on. After about 2 hours we had made it and were at the Melo mountain lake. After a 30-minute rest in the sun, we then needed for the descent again 2 hours. Because with one of my trekking shoes the sole loosened, and I had to hold them together in a makeshift way with the shoelace...
From Corte we went first through the NIOLA VALLEY with numerous hiking trails. For a long time this area was only accessible by mule trails. Here wild boars ran across our path. You can see them especially in autumn when the chestnuts fall from the trees.
The large village of EVISA is located in the middle of chestnut forests and is a popular destination. Here begins (or ends) the hiking trail through the wild gorge of Spelunca. Through a beautiful mountain landscape and a 14 km long granite gorge we came to the GORGE DE SPELUNCA, an impressive gorge where you can hike very well - either from Evisa or from Ota.
In the small very popular town of PORTO at the mouth of the Porto River, we had a beautiful view of the Genoese Tower, the Gulf and the mountains from our hotel. The angular Genoese Tower on a headland is the landmark of Porto.
From Porto we drove to the CALANCHES DE PIANA, which start 8 km behind Porto. The granite rocks here are eroded by wind and water into the most bizarre shapes. The colors vary depending on the time of day, in the evening for example bright red. From the old mule trail - Sentier Muletier - you have great views of the rock world. There are also other trails - e.g. La Corniche.
Then we drove to PIANA, perched on a 434 m cliff, which can call itself "un des plus beaux villages de France". The only sandy beach in the area is the Plage d'Arone in a beautiful crescent shaped bay with only a few people.
From Porto, the best way to get to CALVI is to take the coastal road, which is very winding but takes you through some beautiful scenery on the Gulf of Porto. From our accommodation in Calvi we had a great view of the fortress and the Gulf of Calvi.
Calvi, the pearl of the north, is a well known and popular vacation center. Very nice are the lively alleys in the lower town and the harbor quays. In the alleys of the lower town and the harbor quay you can stroll nicely and also find restaurants and stores. The church "Sainte Marie Majeure" with a polygonal ground plan is striking. The first Christian chapel on this place was built already in the 4th century, subsequent churches were destroyed several times. The present church was built in 1774. Outside the town on the Gulf of Calvi there is a long narrow sandy beach, the water here gets deeper only slowly - ideal for small children.
The citadel "Bastion Spinchone" is the landmark of the city, you can walk around it on a ring of walls and have beautiful views of the city and the sea. The citadel was built on Roman foundations and is the oldest fortified building in Calvi.
Worth seeing is the church of Saint-Jean-Baptiste in the center of the citadel. Originally built in the 13th century, the church was largely destroyed by the explosion of a powder tower in 1567 and subsequently rebuilt in the Baroque style.
A beautiful beach near Calvi is the Plage d'Argentella, about 1 km long, in the bay of Crovani. You can get to the peninsula on a dirt road. You can make a nice but strenuous hike there. From a parking bay you have a beautiful view of the peninsula.
A nicely situated and rather quiet place is l'ILE-ROUSSEL with a small harbor and the Genoese tower and lighthouse on the peninsula "La Pietra". The village owes its name to this offshore island, which has now been turned into a peninsula by a dam and turns red at sunset.
L'Ile Rousse was laid out in 1765 in a rectangular street pattern around the harbor and is said to have the mildest winter climate in Corsica. In the alleys of the old town of L'Ile-Rousse there are several small shops selling souvenirs, jewelry, clothing, wine, etc. In the Marché Couvert there is a market in the morning. In the surroundings of Ile-Rousse there are many light sandy beaches.
Between Calvi and L'Ile-Rousse in the small village of Algajola there is a very beautiful wide and 1.5 km long beach - PLAGE D'AREGNO. In high summer, the beach is apparently very crowded. When we were there in mid-September, we had the beach to ourselves.
SAINT FLORENT is located in the north of Corsica on the wide bay of the same name - in winter an idyllic fishing village. Since the place is very popular, the population increases tenfold in the summer. A point of attraction for tourists is the large marina. In the center you can find bars, restaurants and many souvenir stores. St. Florent is also called "St. Tropez of the island" because of its special flair. On a panoramic road above Saint Florent one has again and again beautiful views of mountains and sea.
On the way to Bastia you can make a detour to the local mountain of Bastia - the 960 m high SERRA DI PIGNO. On a clear day you have a good panoramic view over both sides of Cap Corse .
BASTIA is the most important port for ferries from the French and Italian mainland and also for freight traffic. Bastia is the biggest commercial and economic center of Corsica with an industrial zone. But Bastia is also a busy center of Corsican everyday life. The Place Saint Nicolas with plane trees and palm trees is 300 meters long and 90 meters wide, making it one of the largest squares in France. The beach Plage Arinella, located south of the city, is very wide and long, but unfortunately not very attractive.
The heart of Bastia's Terra Vecchia district is the horseshoe-shaped Vieux Port with the church of Saint-Jean-Baptiste in the background. Walking north through the narrow streets, you come to the Place de l'Hôtel de Ville, where a market is held on weekends.
Around the dock there are many restaurants in all price ranges. When we are in Bastia, we always have our aperitif at a bistro where we have a nice view of the small harbor and the church.
The citadel was built by Genoese in 1380. There are the magnificently renovated Governor's Palace, the Cathedral of Sainte-Marie-de l'Assomption - a Genoese Baroque building erected in 1604-1619 - and the small chapel Oratoire de la ConfrIère de la Sainte-Croix, where you can see a cross made of black ebony in a side chapel.
The palace was the seat of the Genoese governors between the 15th and 18th centuries, today it houses the Ethnographic Museum.

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Ahh, dear reader, hello there! So lovely to see you once more... well figuratively speaking that is… or is it?
After all, I am exceedingly well versed in The Arts. Maybe I am watching you at this very moment, with Clairvoyance or perhaps a Scrying Spell or maybe an enchanted object like the good old fashioned Crystal Ball? The Magus has one you know…
Just teasing… or am I? …teeheehee…
Anyway, this latest instalment comes to you courtesy via a Voice to Text application my Magus recently acquired for me, as he said listening to me speak aloud while typing is too distracting for him. I find that interesting considering his immense mental discipline yet understandable at the same time. After all, extoling ones inner monolog to an uncaring audience would be tedious to experience. Hmm… I’ve just thought of a new torture for the souls of the dammed, specifically for writers who think they are better than everyone around them. How ingenious of me!
In any case, I would prefer to distract him in other ways, mark you.
I also must say what wonderfully inventive creatures you humans are! An application of mathematical code, the base language of reality. It is very much like a spell in its function and nature I would say, that it allows my phone, yes the Magus got me one, to record all I say and transcribes it into neatly typed words on its electronic pages. It’s like having a monk-scribe in your pocket! Unquestionably wonderful!
So as I relax in my fabulously hot, luxurious scented, oiled bubble bath, I can easily regale you with further tales of the adventures I have had thus far on this wonderous blue and brown spherical rock that is third in line from our star. And I do not have to type with two fingers either, which is a massive bonus let me tell you!
If memory serves… ahh yes, we had just returned to the car where I saw a sign of my Magus’s humour on display in the form of his licence plate.
I do have to admit dear reader, I was indeed highly amused. He knows he’s going to hell, he just insists that it be on his terms! I love it! Such confidence, such audacious willpower.
That is exceedingly… stimulating for Succubi.
Ok dammit, it makes me tremendously horny, and I’m not talking about the ones on my head either you know! We are incredibly lusty beings, us Succubi, after all.
I was already in a highly ‘excited’ state when we got to the car, so much so that I had to use my Cell Adjustment Psionic discipline to tremendously dull down my inflamed senses as I did not wish to leave the tell-tale mark of my inflamed passion on the lower back portion of my new dress and also not on the car-seat when I sat back down in the vehicle.
Ahem…
After a few moments, which caused the Magus to glance up at me with a slightly puzzled expression, of standing outside the car (he had no idea nor cared… hmmph!) I opened the door and folded myself back inside the vehicle and resumed my seat. I later learned that I could have mostly avoided this… embarrassment… by actually wearing what you call absorbent lined underwear! I wasn’t wearing panties at the time as I was totally unaware of their existence. I do so now as its much more comfortable in lots of ways and in addition, stops the shiver when an errant chill wind blows unexpectedly up your gusset!
Moving on…
Getting into the car, the Magus paused until I had done up my seatbelt before starting the engine, waiting for another car to pass us by before safely pulling out and sedately driving off. I later learned that we could have gone screaming down the road in a cloud of burning rubber if the Magus was of a mind to. I would have if given the opportunity! Something to look forward to dear reader.
Instead, we drifted slowly through the placidly moving traffic as I watched the sun descend below the horizon of the ocean. I had only been back here on Earth for a few hours but every second was total bliss. I do not think that most of you humans realize how good you have it here. Even those who do not reside in the more developed and advanced nations, being on Earth is special.
There are infinity more worse places you can be, let me assure you of that.
We drove back mostly the way we had travelled to this particular beach. This time though it was much later in the day, heading in the opposite direction, I became aware of many more things that had escaped my attention earlier on.
We passed by denser zones and clusters of buildings where I could see various shops, food outlets, restaurants and varying vendors, all brightly lit up now as the daylight was fading. I saw incredibly tall metal poles with blazing, glowing lights illuminating the surrounds with a warm yellowy orange glow making it still easy to see. Electric lighting will never cease to amaze me. Yes dear reader, I can experience a sense of wonder and joy at simple things, even beyond the act of slaughter and soul draining. Would it astonish you that I like flowers? Such strange lifeforms that had developed aromas they use as a method of propagation. Delightful.
Anyway… we shortly crested the hill that we had previous ascended westwards earlier on the way to the beach and then I saw it!
I was awestruck once again.
Towering edifices, glittering, shining buildings monstrously higher than Hagia Sophia was, the most immense human made structure in the world when I was last in it. These glistening towers of glass, metal and stone made that church look like a feeble children’s toy. I could see over a dozen of these buildings of varying size, clustered together in less than a square mile.
The Magus glanced to his left and saw me gaping at them.
“They’re called Sky Scrapers Meridiana. They’re generally office buildings, places of business where people daily work in their wage-slave jobs then go home at night. The buildings are left vacant but light up at night as you can clearly see.”
I turned and gawped at him.
“They’re empty at night?”
I could not comprehend why such space, that had amazing views, would be left empty of an evening?
“Yep. Well most of them are. There will be some that still have people in them, conducting various types of business overnight because its what they do for a living.”
“What do they do?” I asked in a murmur as I turned back to see the vista be obscured by a large set of commercial and residential buildings that we were currently passing.
The Magus shrugged.
“They’ll be doing all sorts of things, financial trading, working back late to do their jobs… various affairs of commerce and such. It’s not that important really Meridiana. I’ll take you into the city another day when we have time for you to be a tourist. Now, if I may, I want to know more about your Telekinesis. I got an idea of how much you can lift, probably over 1400 kilograms at least if my guess as to how much a warhorse in armour with a rider would weigh… maybe more? Probably more but we’ll test that later. Anyway, it’s your fine control skills I’m interested in.”
I turned back to the Magus who was looking ahead, driving us through the busy traffic that had become a factor. I later learned that it was a time of day called ‘rush hour’.
“I am capable of very delicate manipulation with my Telekinesis, especially in regards to the erotic arts,” I said to him with a husky, low, salacious purr.
“That’s cute but I really want to know if you could snatch out of the air and control a very small, fast moving bouncing ball, say the size of your thumbnail?” he asked in an offhand manner as he slowed down due to the traffic which was banking up in front of us.
I inwardly sighed once more. Such a challenge he was!
“Yes I can but why?”
He briefly turned to me and broadly grinned before returning his attention to driving.
“There’s a game that we will ‘play’ after dinner. It is called Roulette. The game features a spinning wheel with thirty seven little slots. Into the spinning wheel a little white ball is spun in and circles around, eventually slowing and bouncing into once of the numbered slots. The slots are alternately coloured red or black and all are numbered from 00 to 36. You can bet where the ball will land, either in red or black and specifically in a numbered slot. If the ball lands in a slot you bet on, you get a payout of thirty seven to one. Ever dollar you bet wins you 37 back. You can also just bet on which colour the ball will land in giving you your money back plus it’s value as a reward. Bet $100, you get your $100 back plus another $100.”
“Dollar... that’s money right?” I said as the implications slowly dawned on me. You could make a fortune from this!
“Yes Meridiana. Dollars are what we use as currency these days. Gold is still used but not in the way you were used to. It’s still valuable as are other precious metals but that’s going to take a long explanation which is a distraction for now. So, do you think you could perhaps catch the bouncing ball with your power, directing it into the number we bet on?”
I thought about it for a few moments.
“I will have to see how the ball moves but I think I could, yes.”
“Excellent. You stand to make us a lot of money tonight. There are other games like card games, slot machines which I’m uncertain that your powers would be able to mess with. Roulette is our hunting ground. We must be careful though.”
“Why?”
I was surprised by his tone of caution. We were power incarnate! What could possibly touch us?
“Casinos hate losing money. Roulette is going to be the hardest one they can prove that we’re cheating on if you use your Telekinesis. We will be closely watched the entire time we are in the casino. There are devices called cameras, similar to Crystal Balls, that observe everything they see, relaying the images back to people in other rooms whose task it is to spot potential cheaters in the casino. They also have people walking the floor, disguised as ordinary folk, always watching everyone else. And I want to avoid the eyes of any infernal beings who may be in the casino.”
“Ahh… I see… a healthy paranoia then, for them and us hmm?”
He nodded once, emphatically.
If you have a fortune, you need to protect it, especially from people like me. His caution in regards to our identity was also most prudent and he was correct that there was a possibility that there may be others of my ilk lurking in the shadows, walking in human form as we often do.
I have to confess dear reader, that I am a master thief as well as an expert assassin, in addition to being an accomplished warrior although I rarely fight in hand to hand combat, preferring seduction, subterfuge and skulduggery as my main methods of killing. Yet still, I can fight and kill extremely proficiently with many weapons, being skilled at one of the highest levels of melee combat, the use of weapons and ways of fighting with them. I’ve been around a while you know? You pick up on things like that if you wish to live as long as I have.
Besides… stabby, stabby, stabby, bash, slash and smite can be loads of fun when you’re doing the stabbing and bashing with a well-balanced blade or mace in your hands. But I digress…
“You have it Meridiana. Yes the casinos’ management are extremely paranoid. We will have to alter our appearance as well before we enter the casino. I shall use a minor low level spell while you can take a new face. We will do so after dinner.”
I nodded then a thought came to me. I asked,
“You said we were going to something called a buffet? I know what the word means as my abilities allow me to understand any spoken language, much like the enchantment known as Tongues. Yet I’m finding it hard to match the word with the concept.”
The Magus raised an eyebrow in interest at this revelation.
“Oh right. Just because you know a word doesn’t mean you automatically understanding it conceptually and in context either. Good to know. Well, a buffet is an enormous array of various foods, hot and cold, sweet to savoury, where you merely help yourself and consume as much as you wish. You pay for the privilege of course.”
“Truly? How much will this cost you?” I inquired wide eyed.
I noticed that we had moved through the traffic and had turned down a descending road and were now going into a massive concrete tunnel along with hundreds of other cars, all slowly moving in the same direction. It was quite honestly astounding that everyone was not smashing into one another. All the drivers were…well mostly were, attentive to their immediate surrounds and situation as we gradually merged our car into the main lane of traffic which was making its way under the earth via the huge yawning tunnel ahead.
Such staggering feats of engineering and construction which would have made the Emperor Justinian weep copious, bitter tears of pure envy. Oh how I wished I could make him see this and realise his idiotic boast was pointless when he finished Hagia Sophia. He bragged that he had surpassed Solomon himself with his church. He had but it wasn’t worth it. Justinian nearly bankrupted the Eastern Roman Empire, all for a useless church and his own vanity.
Moron.
Still, I shouldn’t care, his hubris ended up sending him to hell anyway so... yay! His actions also exacerbated the effects of the famine and plague that swept the through the empire and western Europe in the year 535 with his stupid desire to re-unify the Roman empire under his rule. You will be pleased to know dear reader, that he is burning in eternal torment for his multitude of sins so it is all good. My thoughts of deceased, vainglorious emperors and their fate were interrupted as the Magus spoke again,
“Hmm? … it should set us back about $80 each I’d should say? A small price to pay in all honesty when you see what is on offer. Drinks will be on top of that price, unless you just have plain water but tonight Meridiana, I shall introduce you to Champagne, one of humanities greatest achievements.”
This was enticing to hear!
“If you say so Magus. I completely believe you as you will not be lying to me,” I said, nodding and trying to think about Champagne.
So many new concepts were entering my mind, it was hard to keep my mind and thoughts in order. I understood that Champagne was a special type of wine, one which had a fizz embodied within it, making it highly regarded but that’s all I could deduce for now.
Also… I had a thought: the Magus could and would never lie to me. The feeling I had earlier, in being able to trust everything he said to me because of the oath he gave to me, was an unfettering sensation.
All my existence I have dealt with bare faced lairs, deceivers, misshapers of the truth who twisted words to suit their own selfish ends. With the Magus, all I had to be concerned with was his agenda, which actually had my interests aligned with his own. Truly remarkable.
I needed that champagne now!
We emerged from the tunnel, traveling with the traffic over wide dark river, again on another immense concrete bridge this time. There was a gigantic colosseum off to our right, all lit up with multiple coloured lights that ran around the circumference of the structure. It was like as though it was enveloped in a rainbow. Frankly, it was amazing to behold.
Beyond that, I could see many more large towers and structures, lining the sides of the vast road we were hurtling along now. The Magus had increased our speed as traffic had thinned out. Never in my life had I moved so fast, well unless I was using a Haste spell to briefly increase my physical speed, which I use in combat if necessary.
I barely had the sense we were travelling in the car at roughly 80kph. Such an odd experience to have for the first time. There was no rushing of wind, no press of air on my face, just comfort and air-conditioning. Marvellous!
After a few minutes later I saw our destination.
Again I was nearly stupefied by the gigantic structure. Multiple massive buildings, all surrounded by lush green, well-manicured and maintained gardens made my jaw go slack with disbelief.
“That’s Crown Casino, Towers and hotel Meridiana. I can see you are impressed. Let me just say that if you think this is amazing, wait until we go to Las Vegas…” he said as he turned the car into the driveway of the complex.
“There’s even more impressive structures than this?”
My mind boggled dear reader. It was almost too much to take in.
“Yep. My city is a small one compared to others around the globe. We will travel to them, in due course. I know you can use your powers of Dimensional Walking, moving through other planes of reality and appearing on a different part of the planet. However, there will be times when we will need to travel together conventionally. Perhaps one day, if I learn the right spells, we will be able to avoid having to fly in an aeroplane and by-pass the utter tediousness of baggage check-ins, airport security and so on…” he muttered darkly.
“HUMANS CAN FLY!?!” I said in a loud strangled astonished voice.
The Magus chuckled with genuine amusement.
“Think back Meridiana. I said humanity has been to the moon and back. I said we can travel safely and comfortably in a machine, called an aircraft, across the planet. Some ‘planes are huge while others are not much bigger than the car. Oh, that reminds me, we will have to construct an identity for you. We will begin that process tomorrow. You are going to need a passport soon enough,” he said as he found a relatively unoccupied parking area west of the massive structures.
He saw my puzzled expression and mistook it for wondering why we had parked here.
“It’s free to park here and there are hardly any security cameras in the vicinity.”
I nodded dumbly.
“But of course Magus…”
He saw my expression as he switched off the engine. A tiny look of… sympathy appeared on his face. He spoke to me in a soft, calm, soothing tone,
“Take a breath Meridiana. Close your eyes and focus upon the stillness within the vehicle. You are safe here with me. Nothing will harm us. Just breathe and relax, let each breath calm you. With every breath you are at peace within yourself and the world around you.”
I did as he said and instantly sensed my whirling mind begin to centre itself, become still.
I may be an ancient and powerful demon dear reader, however I have been imprisoned for nigh on a thousand years and now have been released into a world that I was unable to recognise at all.
The Magus later told me I was suffering from a psychological malady called Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Yes dear reader, even us demons can get mentally fucked up. I mean, compared to the average human, we’re all demented, tormented psychopaths which explains a lot about ourselves but still… even a psychopath can suffer from mental trauma. Demons can go insane.
I breathed rhythmically, each exhaling breath calming me. With one final exhalation, I opened my eyes, turned to my Magus and softly smiled at him.
“Thank you,” was all I said. I meant it.
He nodded briefly, his intensely burning eyes boring into mine, deeply searching, looking for signs of any madness that may still be lingering within. Well, there’s always the hunger for sex and mayhem, but that’s natural for me.
“Come on, you look fine now, let’s go,” he said as he got out of the car.
I followed his example, releasing my seat belt and stepping out of the car. Closing the car door behind me, walked over to the Magus then I threaded my right arm around his left as we walked off like a normal couple, casually strolling through the car park towards the casino and hotel.
I could hear the noise of all the adjacent traffic all still travelling busily along the massive road that went past the enormous complex. There was the calls of various birds I’d never heard before, the waft of scented flowering plants and the heavy aroma of moisture in the air from the nearby river. I closed my eyes for a second just to let it all wash over me as I sedately walked along with my Magus.
Soon we came to the entrance. Huge dark glass doors magically opened for us upon our arrival. To my right I could see various coloured signage, advertising the types of ‘fast food’ eateries that people could choose to dine at. They were all brightly lit and mostly clean.
It was at that moment I saw my first wretch.
A dishevelled, unkempt, shabby man sat listless outside the fast food eateries upon the low stone wall that contained a small, well-kept garden. He looked up at us as we approached, his eyes full of misery and despair.
“Got any spare change?”
“Sorry mate, no one carries cash anymore,” lied my Magus to him with a conciliatory voice, a sad but brief compassionate smile appeared briefly on his face.
The wretched man’s face became even more resigned. He nodded back in understanding, returning his fallen face back to morosely contemplating the ground at his feet.
We kept walking, leaving the broken man behind us.
I was about to congratulate the Magus in his treatment of the beggar when I had to stop as I was confronted by an incredible sight.
Before us, in the huge well-lit lobby of the building, was a huge pair of MOVING METAL STAIRCASES!
One staircase ascended while another came down from the landing some 50 feet above us. On either side were normal, marble clad stairs that some people were using. Yet many other people were on the moving metal stairs, all just taking the experience of being raised or lowered completely for granted.
“It’s just an escalator Meridiana. A simple machine that makes life a little more comfortable. Take it, go for a ride. I’m taking the stairs as I need the incidental exercise,” he said to me as he pried my clutching hands from his arm. I had been unconsciously gripping him tightly in my amazement at seeing such a machine.
The Magus walked off to the left, climbing the steps briskly while I gingerly walked forwards, watching the metal stairs endless appear and ascend upwards. The hand rail also moved in synchronicity with the metal stairs. I observed as a pair of young women, chatting intently to each other, walked past me and up to stand upon a metal stair which was part of dozens of metal stairs it seemed. I saw them be lifted by the moving stairs, rising above and away from me.
Summoning my courage, I stepped forwards onto a moving stair, wobbled slightly as I was not used to the speed which it moved, making me grab the moving banister tightly to steady myself as I rode my way upwards. I let out a small laugh as it was such a novel experience. The young women in front of me turned around at my laugh, raising their eyebrows at me as well as actually truly seeing me for the first time. Their smiles faded as I grinned back at them.
The young women could see my infinitely superior beauty on full display. They looked hesitant, now uncertain of themselves as they mistakenly believed themselves to be beautiful. They were, passible, not ugly but not worthy of a harem to be perfectly honest. I later learned dear reader that many foolish young women, especially in what you call the western world, regard themselves as queens, rating themselves ten out of ten on a scale of dazzling good looks. These sad women are delusional. I mean, if they were that beautiful, why weren’t their faces on the covers of the glossy magazines I see in various ‘supermarket’ check outs? No matter, vanity and hubris are all ways to damnation and misery. So many people sending themselves to eternal torment simply because they were raised by idiotic parents who never properly taught their children the need for humility. It’s all win-win for the pits you know…
My Magus met me at the top of the stairs, holding out his hand to me and then leading me through the vast interior of the complex.
“That’s the casino,” he indicated to our right.
Looking, I could see dozens of people making their way inside into the brightly lit and noisy interior of the casino. I caught the whiff of desperation, despair, avarice, lust, elation and a strong aroma of human urine. I wrinkled my nose in disgust. Yes, even I have some standards dear reader.
“Magus, why does it reek of piss?” I asked as we strolled by and proceeded into the most immense, glass covered atrium I have ever seen.
“Oh, you can smell that?” He looked intrigued.
I nodded with a mild look of disgust.
“Hah… interesting. Well… some gamblers get stuck on a poker machine. They sit there for hours, desperately hoping that the machine they are playing on will pay out. The poor fools stupidly believe that if they play at the machine long enough, they’ll win big. So they stay seated, ignoring the need to relieve their bodily urges, to the extent that they prefer to piss themselves rather than abandon the machine that is draining away their money. The poor fools are incapable of understanding that the machine is designed to rarely pay out. Every time they play, it has a simple algorithm that calculates the chance of a payout. Most machines will payout a small amount of money occasionally, thus keeping the gambler hooked in the mistaken belief that the big one is just around the corner. It rarely, if ever, is.”
I stopped, stunned at what I just heard. The Magus stopped and looked at me with a raised eyebrow.
“That’s… diabolically genius!” I stuttered as I considered the fiendish brilliance of the whole concept.
Someone had made hell on earth not only possible but also could make a fortune from it as well as breaking people’s souls and spirits in the process! The concept of dangling hope in front of a damned soul, then snatching it away was one of the oldest known tortures of hell. This was a magnificent, a culmination of the perfection of thousands upon thousands of years of the torture, all neatly packaged in a fairly simple machine designed to beggar it’s user and turn them into slaves to it. Gobsmacking was the only word I could think off that fully encapsulated the way I felt at that moment.
“Yes it is, isn’t it? I have always suspected that those machines were most likely invented by a demon. It makes perfect sense,” he said as he shrugged, then tilted his head, indicating we should proceed onwards.
I noddled dumbly as again, I had been totally overwhelmed by the latest piece of information the Magus informed of. I barely registered the hundreds of people all wandering around the massive lobby of the hotel atrium. Many were dressed finely while others, mostly men, were dressed casually. My Magus was one of them, still wearing his novelty T-shirt and hemp pants. They were clean though and his shoes, a brand known as Babuuk, made him look somehow better dressed then the other men who were similarly attired. Maybe it was just his subtle aurora of power, his sheer confidence and his towering Will that made him stand out from the mouth breathers all around us? I guess it was.
We arrived at the entrance of the restaurant and the Magus was greeted by a short Asian woman, dressed neatly in the hotels livery.
I started to realise that there were people from so many different races of humanity all around us. I had come from a time where only what was left of the Eastern Roman Empire was this diverse, and even then it was but a shadow of the heyday of the full glory that was Rome. Here were people from almost all the lands of earth, all happily co-mingling, getting on with having dinner with family and friends. Very surprising indeed.
The Asian woman at the reception counter spoke to us with a friendly smile,
“Good evening sir, madam. A table for two for you then?” she asked politely, her voice tinged with a broad accent I had not heard before. She spoke English yet I could tell that wasn’t her first language.
“Yes please,” politely replied the Magus.
This was something I did not expect. Despite his and my obvious power, he was respectful and even kind to the servants. All of them. He didn’t condescend nor sneer down at the servants of the hotel. It is still something I have difficulty reconciling. I said nothing, just observed. Oh, he has since instructed me not to call them servants, they are members of staff and will be treated with respect until they show they do not deserve it, then they are fair game. I can live with that.
“Table seventy one is ready for you both, have a lovely evening.”
She actually meant it! I could see it in her eyes, she was truly enjoying her task. She was smiling and joking with her fellow staff members, politely greeting the next people behind us with her cheerful friendly demeanour.
Astonishing.
In my prior experiences, servants and slaves were a miserable lot but then again, that was understandable. They had no choice as to their circumstances. They had to obey lest they suffer harsh punishment.
As we proceeded into the large dining room, with over a hundred tables of varying sizes, I could see off to my left where the food was.
I stopped again and stared dear reader.
I have been to banquets with Emperors and Kings, Popes and Princes, all sumptuous feasts but nothing was like what I saw before me. Dozens upon dozens of people had plates in their hands, all calmly wandering around the incredible cornucopia of varieties of food that were on display, all brightly lit up for them to simply help themselves to as much as their plate could hold.
Roasted meats, all neatly carved by expert chefs, freshly shucked oysters all seated in enormous silver ice-filled serving bowls, trays upon trays of cooked vegetables of kinds I had never seen before and… a dazzling array of sweet desserts and treats that made me almost go weak at the knees at the very sight of them.
“Come on Meridiana, you’re starting to drool,” whispered the Magus gently into my ear as he dabbed my wet lips with a soft piece of paper that he withdrew from his pants pockets.
Once again I nodded dumbly as I allowed him to escort me to our table. He even seated me, pushing me and my chair in one I had sat down. After he had taken his seat, a young man, quite a handsome one from the Indus I believed?... came over to us, again dressed in the livery of the hotel.
“Good evening, sir, madam. Would you care for something to drink?” he inquired ever so politely.
“And good evening to you sir. Yes indeed, may we please have a bottle of Veuve Clicquot, two glasses and a bottle of San Pellegrino sparkling water?” he asked with a real smile to the servant… no member of staff.
“Of course sir, I shall get that for you immediately,” replied the waiter with a pleased smile at being spoken to so politely.
“Thank you,” said the Magus then he turned to me and asked,
“Do you need a moment Meridiana? I understand this might trigger you again…”
I shook my head.
“No. It is overwhelming… but in a good way Magus. I have to ask, how can a place like this provide so many people with so much food? Even in the height of the Empire, there were magnificent feasts to be sure but… you say this happens everyday, that this is just a Tuesday and not a busy night?”
He nodded.
“This is the age of abundance Meridiana. Many of us, who live in what is known as The West, have dwelt in an age of such wealth and richness that almost all here never think on their incredible luck and privilege to live in such times. They do not know that it will come to an end. Maybe that is a small mercy. All golden ages end as you well know. So I say, let them dwell in ignorant bliss for now. We can enjoy it while it lasts.”
“Huh? Why do you believe that your golden age will end Magus?”
“It’s a long explanation and one I do not wish to go into detail here and now Meridiana but later, I will share my thoughts with you on this. Ahh, here comes our champagne.”
The waiter and another staff member had returned, with one carrying two bottles while the other had a metal bucket partially filled with ice. The waiter from the Indus placed both bottles on our table, displayed the label to the Magus who briefly nodded. Then, the waiter removed the cork from the bottle with an adroit twist of his wrist. It made a pleasing pop and I could see a little haze of cold… smoke? lightly emanate from the neck of the bottle. He poured the brightly bubbling and fizzing wine into both our glasses, carefully making sure the foam did not overflow them. He was very good at his task.
“Thank you good sir,” said my Magus to the waiter who beamed back at him with a happy smile. He placed the bottle into the bucket of ice and withdrew, leaving us alone, amidst the crowed dinning room.
The Magus took up his glass, holding it in front of him. I mirrored him.
“Here’s to a good dinner with interesting company and later, ripping the shit out of a casino Meridiana.” He pushed his glass gently forwards, lightly clinking it against mine. I wasn’t familiar at the time with that form of salute and toast but went with it anyway, after all… when in Rome as they used to say.
“That sounds… delightful Magus. I am eager for it all.”
I then took a sip of my champagne and was transported into a realm of heavenly bliss.
It was exquisite.

Like to find my F friend, her name is Prem, she is of Fijian decent and I lost contact with her in the 80's.. She used to park at the Prospect hotel near Blacktown NSW and we would meet up.. Last heard she was living near Penrith NSW, like to make contact see how she's doin... If she sees this or someone should see it and know Prem tell her it's Allan tryin to find her...

Hi, keen to get your critique on this itinerary from the perspective of other solo travellers.
Also, any tips for train travel in Italy will be much appreciated! I plan to purchase tickets which seems to be very cost effective.
Thanks!
Venice
Tue

1. 5:00PM - Ferry from San Marco Airport

Wed

1. 8:00AM – Breakfast
2. 9:30AM - St Mark's Square & Campanile
3. 10:00AM - St Mark's Basilica
4. 1:00PM - Doge's Palace
5. 3:00PM - Bridge of Sighs
6. 7:00PM - Teatro La Fenice – try to get a ticket

Thur

1. 9:00AM - Mercato di Rialto and Rialto Bridge sightseeing
2. 11:00AM - Venice Walking Tour
3. 2:00PM – Walk around / near Campo Santa Margherita
4. 3:00PM – Depart via train / arrive Florence and check in to hotel
5. Evening - Visit Piazzale Michaelangelo time permitting

Florence
Fri

1. Day to visit friends who live in nearby area

Sat

1. 9:30AM - Accademia Gallery
2. 12:00PM – Lunch
3. 1:00PM – Visit Duomo incl. ticket to climb
4. 4:00PM – Exploring/walk incl. Ponte Vecchio

Sun

1. 9:00AM - San Lorenzo Market
2. 1:00PM - Depart

I’ll be in DC for a weekend in early May & am struggling to make a hotel decision. I’d love to be in an area that’s walkable and near restaurants & attractions. Any recs?

Today we're introducing the next part of the Artist Spotlight series with andy_shields - he answered the same 5 questions and carefully chose his favorite photos. Thank you for taking the time!
1) Can you introduce yourself to /leicaphotos?
My name is Andy and I shoot in and around the Detroit area. I've been shooting since high school in the 90's but took a long time off during the analog to digital transition. I began taking photos with intention again about 13 years ago when I bought a mirrorless camera that I learned I could adapt vintage, manual focus lenses to. That sparked a bit of an obsession.
Me - Here's a shot of me.
https://imgur.com/a/QU1C3TA
M6 w/ 21mm GR Lens
2) What or who is the inspiration for your photography?
While I have a shelf full of photo books that I greatly enjoy, I am not sure that they serve as inspiration. I really like the work of Bill Rauhauser, Don Hudson and Glen Triest, Detroit photographers that have been shooting / shot the area for longer than I've been alive. I'd say my main inspiration are the shots I see but cannot take. The amazing, impossible things I drive past and see happen when having a camera at the ready in that moment would have been impossible. It's the knowing that those types of images are out there everyday and it's our job as photographers to try to catch those split second occurrences. I'm also fortunate to have met so many amazing photographers through this hobby. I've made some great friends all over the world and the local photography scene here in the Detroit area is full of incredibly talented and kind people. I really feel fortunate to be making photos at this point in time here in the metro-Detroit area. I hope that decades from now the joy I feel making these photos will be seen in the images.
3) Why did you choose to shoot Leica?
In my quest to find every vintage lens in the area I came across a complete Leica CL three lens kit for an impossible price. I immediately fell in love with the 40mm Summicron-C adapted to digital but didn't use the CL aside from a test roll. As my collection of vintage lenses grew, so did my collection of film bodies. Eventually the allure of re-visiting the process of my youth was too strong to ignore and I started shooting the CL and a Yashica Electro35 GTN (what a lens!). After shooting a small, dark, club show in 2018 with my a7iii and native lens, I realized my digital AF kit was doing most of the heavy lifting. That wasn't what I wanted from this hobby. I sold my digital gear and bought an M6 Classic "Leitz" the following week and the rest is history. I commited to shooting film for the next year and just never stopped. I've owned that CL, an M6, a few M3's, an M5 and an MP. Eventually I realized which M was perfect for me and sourced a used black chrome M-A as my main M. I shoot it with a Leicavit-M attached as the camera gods intended. I have an M3 as a back-up.
4) Where can we find more of your work?
I sporadically post to Instagram @decades_early. I have a poorly maintained website at www.shields.photos which I think about blogging on and updating all the time. More frequently I can be found here on LeicaPhotos where I post photos from time-to-time as well as in Leica where I do my best to try to help other users and generally BS about Leica gear. I've had images in 7 gallery shows in three states and I've had photos published in a couple of books; the details of which would make for good content on a website, were it ever updated.
Projects that I'm currently working on include an on-going multiple exposure roll-swap on M cameras with u/milleniador. I've also been working with a group of game designers in France who are publishing a Detroit based tabletop game. I'm providing imagery from Detroit that will be turned into darkroom process cyanotypes for use in the scenarios. The game should be out later this year. I don't speak French but I hear Google Lens is pretty good at translation.
I want to thank u/stonydeluxe for the opportunity to share these images / speak about my work and as always, I'm happy to chat below or via dm about any and all things photography.
5) Can you show us your favorite photos taken with a Leica and tell us something about them and what makes them stand out as your favorites?
Photo 1 - Classic Car / I like to portray motion in my work and as Detroit is the Motor City, it's a great place to grab a shot of a weekend cruiser. This was shot on an M6 with a 50mm f1.5 Summarit. The film is Cinestill 800t pushed 3 stops. I think this was shot at 1/2 a second. https://imgur.com/a/KkXIpmx
Photo 2 - Cops / I went after the juxtaposition of the shorter officer and the giant lift of the car here. The officer wasn't a huge fan of how I was choosing to spend my time. This was shot on an M-A with a 35mm f1.4 Summilux pre-asph on HP5. https://imgur.com/a/gKEzRWp
Photo 3 - Push / This is a shot taken on Halloween of my son (and I) being spun by my wife on some playground equipment. This was probably shot at a 15th/ sec. Made on my M-A with a 15mm f4.5 Voigtlander Heliar v1 on HP5. https://imgur.com/a/TizhSkD
Photo 4 - Rug Salesman / I like to force perspective with wide-angle lenses. The proprietor of a Persian rug store is seen here in a small display window. I shot directly against the glass as he looked up. He's not a large man but the lucky framing has him appear giant. Shot on an M-A with a 16mm f8 Carl Zeiss Hologon. The film was Tri-X. https://imgur.com/a/vXnlbMI
Photo 5 - Rock / I shoot the smaller club shows that I go to. It's always really dark and in lieu of flash I like to do long hand-held exposures to convey the energy of the performance. Shot on the M-A / Hologon combo again. The film is Portra 400. https://imgur.com/a/zTmcofW
Photo 6 - Ollie / Shooting near the minimum focusing distance of my 16mm is something I try to do often. Here I'm just over a foot away from the action. M-A / Hologon combo again. The film is HP5. https://imgur.com/a/1KrlpxT
Photo 7 - Pull / Shot again on the Hologon 16mm f8, this is another example of shooting close to force perspective. Shout-out to Elliot Erwitt on this one for sure. M-A or possibly M3 on HP5. https://imgur.com/a/LhLZaQA
Feel free to send a mod message if you want to be featured as well.
Artist Spotlight #1: eleventhreehundred