Category: #amwriting

Top 5 sights on the road less travelled – Berlin

Berlin’s Best-Kept Secrets: 5 Distinctive Attractions Beyond the Crowds

Berlin is a city that pulsates with history, art, and an undeniable energy. From the Brandenburg Gate to Museum Island, its iconic landmarks draw millions of visitors each year. But what if you crave a deeper, more intimate connection with the German capital? What if you want to explore places that offer unique character without fighting through throngs of tourists?

Fear not, intrepid explorer! Berlin is a treasure trove of distinctive attractions that, while captivating, manage to remain refreshingly uncrowded. Step off the well-trodden path and discover these five fantastic spots where you can soak in the atmosphere, history, and beauty at your own pace.

1. Tempelhofer Feld (Tempelhof Field)

Imagine a vast, open expanse in the middle of a bustling city – a former airport transformed into Berlin’s largest urban park. That’s Tempelhofer Feld. Once the site of the Berlin Airlift, this historic tarmac now serves as a unique recreational space where locals and savvy visitors come to fly kites, cycle, rollerblade, garden in community plots, or simply wander and feel the incredible sense of freedom.

Why it’s distinctive: Its sheer scale and stark, industrial beauty are unlike any other park. You can walk or cycle down the actual runways, feeling the ghosts of history under your feet, while enjoying panoramic views of the city skyline. It’s a testament to Berlin’s ability to repurpose its past into vibrant public spaces. Crowd factor: Its immense size ensures you’ll always find quiet corners, even on sunny weekends.

2. Gärten der Welt (Gardens of the World)

Tucked away in the eastern district of Marzahn-Hellersdorf, the “Gardens of the World” is an absolutely stunning, often-overlooked masterpiece of landscape architecture. This sprawling park features meticulously designed themed gardens from around the globe, including an authentic Chinese Garden, a peaceful Japanese Garden, a vibrant Balinese Garden, an English Tudor Rose Garden, and many more.

Why it’s distinctive: It’s a journey around the world in one park! Each garden is an exquisite representation of its cultural heritage, complete with traditional architecture, plants, and water features. The park also boasts a cable car (Seilbahn) that offers fantastic aerial views, adding an extra layer of unique experience. Crowd factor: Due to its location slightly outside the central tourist areas, it attracts primarily locals and those in the know, making for a serene and contemplative visit.

3. Teufelsberg (Devil’s Mountain)

For a taste of Cold War history, street art, and incredible views, head to Teufelsberg. This artificial hill, built from post-WWII rubble, housed a crucial US listening station during the Cold War. Today, the abandoned NSA facility stands as a captivating, eerie ruin, its iconic radar domes covered in vibrant graffiti art.

Why it’s distinctive: It’s a fascinating blend of history, urban exploration, and an open-air art gallery. You can wander through the former listening posts, climb the towers (at your own risk or with permission) for panoramic views across Berlin and Brandenburg, and marvel at the ever-evolving street art. It feels like stepping into a forgotten movie set. Crowd factor: While it has become more popular, its somewhat rugged approach (a short hike up a hill) and relatively low-key management keep the crowds sparse compared to central attractions.

4. Gedenkstätte Berlin-Hohenschönhausen (Stasi Prison Memorial)

This is not a light-hearted attraction, but it is profoundly distinctive and essential for understanding a darker chapter of Berlin’s history. Hohenschönhausen was the main remand prison of the East German secret police (Stasi) where political dissidents were interrogated and tortured. Today, it stands as a powerful memorial and museum.

Why it’s distinctive: The tours, often led by former prisoners or knowledgeable guides, offer an incredibly vivid and harrowing insight into the mechanisms of state oppression. You walk through original cells, interrogation rooms, and work areas, preserving an unvarnished and chilling historical record. It’s a sombre but vital experience that leaves a lasting impression. Crowd factor: While guided tours can have small groups, it’s a quiet, respectful atmosphere, far removed from the general tourist bustle. It demands contemplation, not quick photos.

5. Charlottenburg Palace & Gardens (Focusing on the Gardens & Belvedere)

While Charlottenburg Palace itself can draw a fair number of visitors, its magnificent Baroque gardens and charming subsidiary buildings offer expansive, less-crowded opportunities for exploration. The main palace tickets might have queues, but the vast grounds are free to roam and offer a regal escape.

Why it’s distinctive: As the largest and most significant palace in Berlin, it offers a glimpse into Prussian royal grandeur. But it’s the sheer scale and beauty of the meticulously landscaped gardens – complete with fountains, statues, a charming Orangery, and the tranquil Belvedere teahouse – that truly delight. The Belvedere, housing an exquisite porcelain collection, is often quiet and offers lovely views over the river Spree. Crowd factor: The gardens are so extensive that it’s easy to find solitude, especially away from the main palace entrance. The smaller museums like the Belvedere are also often blissfully uncrowded.

Berlin truly rewards those who are willing to venture slightly beyond the obvious. These five distinctive attractions offer rich historical narratives, breathtaking beauty, and unique experiences – all without the pressing crowds. So, next time you plan a trip to Berlin, consider stepping off the beaten path and uncovering a few of the city’s best-kept secrets. You might just find your new favourite spot.

‘Sunday in New York’ – A beta reader’s view

I’m not a fan of romance novels but …

There was something about this one that resonated with me.

This is a novel about a world generally ruled by perception, and how people perceive what they see, what they are told, and what they want to believe.

I’ve been guilty of it myself, as I’m sure we all have at one time or another.

For the main characters, Harry and Alison, other issues are driving their relationship.

For Alison, it is a loss of self-worth through losing her job and from losing her mother and, in a sense, her sister.

For Harry, it is the fact that he has a beautiful and desirable wife, his belief that she is the object of other men’s desires, and, in particular, his immediate superior’s.

Between observation, the less-than-honest motives of his friends, a lot of jumping to conclusions based on very little fact, and you have the basis of one very interesting story.

When it all comes to a head, Alison finds herself in a desperate situation, and she realises only the truth will save their marriage.

But is it all the truth?

What would we do in similar circumstances?

Rarely does a book have me so enthralled that I could not put it down until I knew the result. They might be considered two people who should have known better, but as is often the case, they had to get past what they both thought was the truth.

And the moral of this story, if it could be said there is one, is that nothing is ever what it seems.

…

Available on Amazon here: amzn.to/2H7ALs8

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Top 5 sights on the road less travelled – Warsaw

Beyond the Big Five: Warsaw’s Hidden Gems That Will Captivate You (Without the Crowds)

Warsaw is a city that whispers tales of resilience and rebirth, and while the Royal Castle and the Old Town Market Square rightfully draw admirers, there’s a magic to be found in its less-trodden paths. If you’re looking to experience the true soul of the Polish capital without battling a sea of selfie sticks, then this list is for you. Forget the predictable queues; we’re diving into Warsaw’s top five tourist attractions that boast distinctive charm and a serene atmosphere.

Here are five must-visit spots that offer a unique perspective on Warsaw, perfect for the discerning traveller:

1. The Palace of Culture and Science – The Observatory Deck (and beyond!)

Yes, the Palace of Culture and Science is a prominent landmark, but many visitors only see its imposing exterior. The real magic for those seeking fewer crowds lies in its observatory deck on the 30th floor. While it’s a known spot, it rarely experiences the overwhelming throngs of other city viewpoints. The 360-degree panorama of Warsaw from here is breathtaking, particularly at sunset when the city lights begin to twinkle.

Why it’s distinctive: It’s not just the view; it’s the architectural style (a controversial “gift” from the Soviet Union) and the sheer scale of the building that make it a talking point. Venture beyond the deck, and you’ll find cinema complexes, theatres, and museums within its walls, offering a glimpse into Warsaw’s cultural heart without the typical tourist hustle.

2. POLIN Museum of the History of Polish Jews – Immersive Storytelling

While gaining well-deserved recognition, the POLIN Museum is often overlooked by those solely focused on pre-war history. This isn’t just a museum; it’s an immersive journey through a thousand years of Jewish life in Poland. Through stunning architectural design and innovative exhibits, you’ll walk through recreated historical spaces, interact with multimedia displays, and gain a profound understanding of a community that shaped Polish heritage.

Why it’s distinctive: The sheer scale and ambition of its narrative, covering centuries of history, art, and culture. It’s a space that educates, inspires, and often deeply moves visitors. The building itself is a masterpiece, representing a modern interpretation of Jewish heritage.

3. Łazienki Park – Royal Retreat and Artistic Haven

Łazienki Park is Warsaw’s largest green space, and while it’s a popular spot for locals, it rarely feels overrun by tourists. This 18th-century royal complex is a tranquil oasis, featuring opulent palaces, charming gardens, and an amphitheatre. The iconic Palace on the Isle, perched on a picturesque lake, is a sight to behold. You might even spot some resident peacocks strutting their stuff!

Why it’s distinctive: It’s a harmonious blend of natural beauty and neoclassical architecture. Unlike meticulously manicured gardens, Łazienki Park feels like a truly lived-in royal retreat. The open-air Chopin concerts held here in the summer (check schedules!) are a truly magical experience, usually with plenty of space to spread out.

4. The Neon Museum – A Vibrant Flashback

Step into a world of glowing colours and retro charm at the Neon Museum. This unique institution showcases remnants of the Cold War era’s communist-era neon signs, meticulously restored and displayed within a former factory. It’s a visually striking and surprisingly poignant collection that tells a story of Polish urbanism and design during a specific historical period.

Why it’s distinctive: It’s an unconventional museum dedicated to a specific, visually captivating art form. The sheer density of vibrant, luminous signs creates an unforgettable atmosphere. It’s a photographer’s dream and a fascinating glimpse into a bygone era of Polish advertising and urban character.

5. Praga District – The Authentic “Wild East”

For a truly authentic Warsaw experience, venture across the Vistula River to the Praga district. Once considered the “wild east” of Warsaw, Praga has retained much of its pre-war architectural character, with crumbling facades, hidden courtyards, and a distinct bohemian vibe. It’s a stark contrast to the meticulously reconstructed Old Town and offers a more raw, gritty, and intriguing side of the city.

Why it’s distinctive: It’s a living testament to Warsaw’s pre-war past, defying the city’s narrative of complete destruction and reconstruction. Explore its intricate street art, independent galleries, and charming cafes for a taste of Warsaw’s evolving artistic scene. Take a guided walking tour to truly appreciate the hidden stories etched into its buildings.

So, next time you find yourself in Warsaw, dare to stray from the beaten path. These five attractions offer not just unique sights, but also a chance to connect with the city’s diverse history, vibrant culture, and captivating spirit, all without the overwhelming crowds. Happy exploring!

An excerpt from “Echoes from the Past”

Available on Amazon Kindle here:  https://amzn.to/2CYKxu4

…

With my attention elsewhere, I walked into a man who was hurrying in the opposite direction.  He was a big man with a scar running down the left side of his face from the eye socket to the mouth, and he was wearing a black shirt with a red tie.

That was all I remembered as my heart almost stopped.

He apologised as he stepped to one side, the same way I stepped, as I also muttered an apology.

I kept my eyes down.  He was not the sort of man I wanted to recognise later in a lineup.  I stepped to the other side, and so did he.  It was one of those situations.  Finally getting out of sync, he kept going in his direction, and I went towards the bus, which was now pulling away from the curb.

Getting my breath back, I just stood riveted to the spot watching it join the traffic.  I looked back over my shoulder, but the man I’d run into had gone.  I shrugged and looked at my watch.  It would be a few minutes before the next bus arrived.

Wait, or walk?  I could also go by subway, but it was a long walk to the station.  What the hell, I needed the exercise.

At the first intersection, the ‘Walk’ sign had just flashed to ‘Don’t Walk’.  I thought I’d save a few minutes by not waiting for the next green light.  As I stepped onto the road, I heard the screeching of tyres.

A yellow car stopped inches from me.

It was a high-powered sports car, perhaps a Lamborghini.  I knew what they looked like because Marcus Bartleby owned one, as did every other junior executive in the city with a rich father.

Everyone stopped to look at me, then the car.  It was that sort of car.  I could see the driver through the windscreen shaking his fist, and I could see he was yelling too, but I couldn’t hear him.  I stepped back onto the sidewalk, and he drove on.  The moment had passed, and everyone went back to their business.

My heart rate hadn’t come down from the last encounter.   Now it was approaching cardiac arrest, so I took a few minutes and several sets of lights to regain composure.

At the next intersection, I waited for the green light, and then a few seconds more, just to be sure.  I was no longer in a hurry.

Next, I heard what sounded like a gunshot.  A few people looked around, worried expressions on their faces, but when it happened again, I saw it was an old car backfiring.  I also saw another yellow car, much the same as the one before, stopped on the side of the road.  I thought nothing of it, other than it was the second yellow car I’d seen.

At the next intersection, I realised I was subconsciously heading towards Harry’s new bar.   It was somewhere on 6th Avenue, so I continued walking in what I thought was the right direction.

I don’t know why I looked behind me at the next intersection, but I did.  There was another yellow car on the side of the road, not far from me.  It, too, looked the same as the original Lamborghini, and I was starting to think it was not a coincidence.

Moments after crossing the road, I heard the roar of a sports car engine and saw the yellow car accelerate past me.  As it passed by, I saw there were two people in it, and the blurry image of the passenger was a large man with a red tie.

Now my imagination was playing tricks.

It could not be the same man.  He was going in a different direction.

In the few minutes I’d been standing on the pavement, it had started to snow; early for this time of year, and marking the start of what could be a long, cold winter.  I shuddered, and it was not necessarily because of the temperature.

I looked up and saw a neon light advertising a bar, coincidentally the one Harry had ‘found’ and, looking once in the direction of the departing yellow car, I decided to go in.  I would have a few drinks and then leave through the back door if there were one.

Just in case.

…

© Charles Heath 2015-2020

newechocover5rs

365 Days of writing, 2026 – 163

Day 163 –  When the well runs dry

…

The Well Never Runs Dry: Why You Should Write Even When You’re Empty

There is a pervasive myth in the creative world: the idea that writing is a faucet that must be turned off the moment the water stops flowing. We are told to wait for the “muse,” to respect the “dry spell,” and to stop pushing when the well runs dry.

But here is the professional truth: If you wait for inspiration, you will eventually stop writing altogether.

Professionalism isn’t about waiting for a lightning strike of genius; it’s about showing up to the page when you have absolutely nothing to say. If you struggle with the “Empty Page Syndrome,” here is why you should never stop writing—and how to keep going when the ideas have seemingly evaporated.

1. Writing is a Muscle, Not a Mood

Think of your writing ability like a muscle in the gym. If you only lift weights when you feel “inspired” to be strong, you will never see progress. The days you don’t want to be there are the days that build your endurance.

When you force yourself to write through a period of low inspiration, you aren’t necessarily aiming for a masterpiece. You are building the cognitive stamina required to sustain a career. By showing up, you prove to your brain that writing is a non-negotiable habit, like brushing your teeth or sleeping.

2. The “Bad” Writing is the Foundation

When you force yourself to write without ideas, the result is often messy, clunky, and uninspired. That’s okay. In fact, it’s necessary.

Professional writers understand that you cannot edit a blank page. By writing “bad” words, you are clearing the mental pipes. Often, the act of putting down a terrible sentence acts as a catalyst for a better thought. You have to move the cursor to find the gold. If you stop writing the moment you feel stuck, you never reach the breakthrough that lies just three paragraphs deeper.

3. Ideas are a Result, Not a Prerequisite

We often think: I need an idea to start writing. The reality is: Writing creates the idea.

When you sit down to write, you are engaging in a process of discovery. Your brain doesn’t store ideas in a neat little organized file cabinet; it generates them through the friction of the keyboard. If you sit and wait for the perfect prompt, you will wait forever. If you start typing “I don’t know what to write about today,” you have already started the process of thinking. That movement inevitably leads somewhere.

4. How to Keep Writing When You’re Empty

If you’re staring at a blinking cursor and feeling that familiar drought, try these three strategies:

  • The “Brain Dump” Method: Don’t worry about structure or audience. Open a document and write down every annoyance, thought, or observation from your morning. It doesn’t have to be a published piece; it just has to be words on a page.
  • The “Retrospective” Approach: If you can’t invent something new, refine something old. Go back to an old draft, a failed paragraph, or a notebook scrap from six months ago. Editing is writing. It counts.
  • The Constraint Hack: Creativity loves a cage. If you don’t know what to write, give yourself a strict limit. Write 200 words about the colour red. Write a paragraph explaining your favourite meal to an alien. Arbitrary constraints force your brain out of its rut.

The Bottom Line

The difference between an amateur and a professional is often just the ability to endure the days when the spark is gone. You don’t need a brilliant idea to be a writer; you just need to be a person who writes.

So, don’t stop. Keep writing through the silence, the boredom, and the “bad” drafts. The well isn’t dry—it’s just waiting for you to pick up the bucket.

…

Inspiration, maybe – Volume 1

50 photographs, 50 stories, of which there is one of the 50 below.

They all start with –

A picture paints … well, as many words as you like.  For instance:

lookingdownfromcoronetpeak

And the story:

…

It was once said that a desperate man has everything to lose.

The man I was chasing was desperate, but I, on the other hand, was more desperate to catch him.

He’d left a trail of dead people from one end of the island to the other.

The team had put in a lot of effort to locate him, and now his capture was imminent.  We were following the car he was in, from a discreet distance, and, at the appropriate time, we would catch up, pull him over, and make the arrest.

There was nowhere for him to go.

The road led to a dead-end, and the only way off the mountain was back down the road we were now on.  Which was why I was somewhat surprised when we discovered where he was.

Where was he going?

“Damn,” I heard Alan mutter.  He was driving, being careful not to get too close, but not far enough away to lose sight of him.

“What?”

“I think he’s made us.”

“How?”

“Dumb bad luck, I’m guessing.  Or he expected we’d follow him up the mountain.  He’s just sped up.”

“How far away?”

“A half-mile.  We should see him higher up when we turn the next corner.”

It took an eternity to get there, and when we did, Alan was right, only he was further on than we thought.”

“Step on it.  Let’s catch him up before he gets to the top.”

Easy to say, not so easy to do.  The road was treacherous, and in places, just gravel, and there were no guard rails to stop a three-thousand-foot fall down the mountainside.

Good thing then, I had the foresight to have three agents on the hill for just such a scenario.

Ten minutes later, we were in sight of the car, still moving quickly, but we were going slightly faster.  We’d catch up just short of the summit car park.

Or so we thought.

Coming quickly around another corner, we almost slammed into the car we’d been chasing.

“What the hell…” Aland muttered.

I was out of the car and over to see if he was in it, but I knew that it was only a slender possibility.  The car was empty, and no indication of where he had gone.

Certainly not up the road.  It was relatively straightforward for the next mile, at which we would have reached the summit.  Up the mountainside from here, or down.

I looked up.  Nothing.

Alan yelled out, “He’s not going down, not that I can see, but if he did, there’s hardly a foothold and that’s a long fall.”

Then where did he go?

Then a man looking very much like our quarry came out from behind a rock embedded just a short distance up the hill.

“Sorry,” he said quite calmly.  “Had to go if you know what I mean.”

I’d lost him.

It was as simple as that.

I had been led a merry chase up the hill, and all the time he was getting away in a different direction.

I’d fallen for the oldest trick in the book, letting my desperation blind me to the disguise that anyone else would see through in an instant.

It was a lonely sight, looking down that road, knowing that I had to go all that way down again, only this time, without having to throw caution to the wind.

“Maybe next time,” Alan said.

“We’ll get him.  It’s just a matter of time.”

…

© Charles Heath 2019-2026

…

Find this and other stories in “Inspiration, maybe”, available soon.

InspirationMaybe1v1

The cinema of my dreams – I always wanted to write a war story – Episode 7

This is a story inspired by a visit to an old castle in Italy. It was, of course, written while travelling on a plane, though I’m not sure if it was from Calgary to Toronto, or New York to Vancouver.

But there’s more to come. Those were long flights…

And sadly, when I read what I’d written, off the plane and in the cold hard light of dawn, there were problems, which now, in the second draft, should provide the proper start.

 …

If it had been Jackerby in charge and not Johansson, I had no doubt I’d be at the end of a firing squad now.

Jackerby was not Army, nor a man of honour.  His gait, his manner gave him away, despite the fact he was out of his usual uniform.  I suspect now I had been taken care of, that would change, and we’d get to see his true colours.

After leaving the hall, I was escorted downstairs to the cellar, and where I knew there were a number of rooms with iron gated fronts, places I suspected, in olden days, enemies of the castle were held, enslaved or executed in these cells.

There were several male prisoners in the first two cells, awaiting their fate, one of whom would not include escaping to the other side, but perhaps something a lot worse than death.

At the end, there was another corridor, and several smaller cells, where, second from the end, I was roughly shoved by one of the guards.  He was going to add the butt of his rifle to the back of my head for good measure, but Jackerby stopped him.

I was sure it wasn’t out of respect for Johansson.  It appeared that Johansson needed me for something else.

After the door closed, I yelled out, “All the rooms upstairs filled?”

“Yes.  It’s high season.”  So Jackerby had a semblance of a sense of humour.

 …

The room, if it could be called that, had a camp stretcher, a seat, and a bucket.  The light came from a burning torch out in the corridor, an interesting touch that electricity had not made it down this far.

The floor was cobbled, and, like the walls, damp.  There was an overbearing odour of mustiness in the room.

It was also cold, so these cells must be located not only under the old castle but also underground.  That meant centuries of history, and probably a ghost or two.  I was sure terrible things had happened, down in these cells, not just back then but also recently.

Outside the wall, I could hear the sound of running water, so the back wall must border on the stream.  And there must be a gap, or hole somewhere for the sound to reach me, but it was too dark to see.

When night fell, it was going to be a lot worse; the light wouldn’t be affected, but it was going to get a lot colder.  As the torchlight from the passage barely made an impact, it took a few minutes for my eyes to adjust.  And I was sure there were rats, just waiting for the dark to come out to play.

I moved the seat by the side of the door and sat down, trying to make myself comfortable in a position where I might hear them coming if they came back.

Then a voice quite near said, “What are you here for?”

 …

© Charles Heath 2019

First Dig Two Graves

A sequel to “The Devil You Don’t”

…

Revenge is a dish best served cold – or preferably so when everything goes right

Of course, it rarely does, as Alistair, Zoe’s handler, discovers to his peril. Enter a wildcard, John, and whatever Alistair’s plan for dealing with Zoe was dies with him.

It leaves Zoe in completely unfamiliar territory.

…

John’s idyllic romance with a woman who is utterly out of his comfort zone is on borrowed time. She is still trying to reconcile her ambivalence after being so indifferent for so long.

They agree to take a break, during which she disappears. John, thinking she has left without saying goodbye, refuses to accept the inevitable and calls on an old friend for help in finding her.

After the mayhem and being briefly reunited, she recognises an inevitable truth: there is a price to pay for taking out Alistair; she must leave and find them first, and he would be wise to keep a low profile.

But keeping a low profile just isn’t possible, and enlisting another friend, a private detective and his sister, a deft computer hacker, they track her to the border between Austria and Hungary.

What John doesn’t realise is that another enemy is tracking him to find her too. It could have been a grand tour of Europe. Instead, it becomes a race against time before enemies old and new converge for what will be an inevitable showdown.

The cinema of my dreams – I always wanted to go on a treasure hunt – Episode 8

Here’s the thing.

Every time I close my eyes, I see something different.

I’d like to think the cinema of my dreams is playing a double feature but it’s a bit like a comedy cartoon night on Fox.

But these dreams are nothing to laugh about.

Once again there’s a new instalment of an old feature, and back on the treasure hunt.

…

I lasted the week in the warehouse, and, surprising myself, I actually liked it.

And, had I been like all the other workers employed there, keeping their heads down and getting on with the job, everything would have remained the same.

My problem, it seemed, was Alex Benderby.  He had been a bully at school, and he was a bully in the workplace, hiding behind his father’s name and reputation, not that his father was much better, just a little more discreet.

On day 2, Alex discovered I was working in the warehouse, his domain.  For some reason it amused him that I should be there, working for the Benderby’s, something I’d been very vocal about it not working for them, even if, he reminded me, they were the last people on earth.

He confronted me with two of his bully friends.  Alex was not someone to walk around alone.  He knew what would happen if he did.

“What changed, Smidge.”

The nickname he gave me, though I never quite understood why.  English and language had never been his strong point.

“The poverty line.  Sometimes people have to swallow their pride.  It’s not a big deal, Alex.”

“Is to me, to see how the mighty have fallen.  I’ve got my eye on you Smidge.  One wrong foot, and, well, we shall see.”

The salacious grin, as he walked away, was the key.  He could and no doubt would hold my job over me as he did with countless others.  At that moment I think I made a promise to myself, to help Boggs find the treasure, and bury Alex in a hoe so deep not even his or his father’s money and influence could save him.

 

Hours later, still rankling over the confrontation, I nearly ran into Alex again, just managing to avoid him by slipping behind the shelving to wait until he passed by.

When he didn’t, I decided to wait till he walked past, and then head in the other direction.  But, after a few minutes and he hadn’t appeared, I peered around the corner of the shelving and saw him sitting on a half-emptied pallet of boxes.

Waiting.

Waiting for what, or more to the point, whom?

Five minutes later I found out.  A long, cool woman in a tall black dress, a woman I’d seen before but couldn’t quite place.

“Nadia.”

“Alex.  What do you want?”  Her tone was far from conciliatory, and if she was not happy about being there, why was she?

“A favour.”

“You’ve run out of favours Alex.”

“Then how about I tell your father exactly what you were doing when you were doing something else?”

A moment’s silence before the fury.  “We had an agreement.”

“I need a favour.  You’re the only one I can trust.  After this, I promise, we’re done.”

Another quick look around the corner of the shelves.  One person looking smug, the other looking very, very angry.

But, it appeared, that Alex had the leverage.

“What is it?”

“Rico has a map.  I want it.  You bring it to me, you’re off the hook.”

She gave him a long hard stare.  “I deliver the map, and I see you again, you’re a dead man.  Your father might think he runs this part of town, but I can assure you there are far scarier people than him and his henchmen.  Remember that Alex.”

If she had a gun I think she might have shot him, but instead left him with a latent threat.  It was good to see that he was, for once, the one with the worried look.

…

© Charles Heath 2019-2023

The 2am Rant: That’s two days of my life I won’t get back

Yep…

I just spent 26 and a half hours in planes and in airport terminals getting home, and lost two days in the process.  The 15th of January just didn’t exist for us.

This is what happens when you fly from Vancouver, Canada, to Brisbane, Australia, via Shanghai.  The thing is, everywhere, way, way overseas is a two-stop run.  We have to break our journey somewhere, like Singapore, Hong Kong, Bangkok, Shanghai, Abu Dhabi, and for the sake of managing delays at the originating end, we usually end up with a mid-airport stay of five to ten hours.

It all means that when you finally arrive in Australia, you are tired, and you look it.  I feel sorry for the Immigration officials who must rarely see people looking good on their arrival.

This time, we were fortunate to get back in the morning.  To save being picked up by relatives, we arranged for a limousine service, and it worked out well.

I couldn’t say the same for some of the pickup services overseas, but that was more the fault of the travel agent here than anything else.

It only reinforced my thoughts on travel agents; some are excellent, and some are complacent, relying too much on travel wholesalers whose knowledge of the products they sell is appalling.

The original bookings were fine; the agent we used knew her stuff.  But she left, and someone else took over, and not so good, I’m afraid.

However…

On the whole, it was an incredible expedition, from temperatures of 30 plus Celsius to temperatures of -21 degrees Fahrenheit, and rarely above 6 degrees Fahrenheit.

The highlight:  Lake Louise in Canada.  Everyone should see this place in Winter at least once in their lifetime.  Certainly, my wife’s 65th birthday, spent there, was something she will never forget.

And the sleigh ride, in -14 or -15 degrees, well, we might be eligible to be declared stark staring mad, but seeing the frozen waterfall was just another of those magical moments that reinforces why we should be preserving the planet, not trying to destroy it.

But…

We’re back home and glad to be so.