Unlocking the Night: Exploring the Mystical and the Mundane in Our Dreams
The moment our conscious minds drift into slumber, a new world unfurls. A world where gravity is optional, where the familiar can morph into the surreal, and where echoes of our waking lives mingle with the utterly bizarre. Dreams. They’ve captivated, puzzled, and inspired humanity for millennia, sparking endless debate about their true nature. Are they celestial messages whispered from beyond, or simply the chaotic rumblings of our own sleeping brains?
For many, dreams are indeed magical journeys. They offer an escape from the mundane, transporting us to fantastical landscapes, reuniting us with lost loved ones, or allowing us to fly through star-dusted skies. These are the dreams that linger, leaving us with a sense of wonder and a touch of longing for the ephemeral reality we briefly inhabited. They can feel profoundly significant, imbued with a wisdom or a warning that feels almost otherworldly. Think of the ancient interpretations, where dreams were seen as direct communications from deities or omens of the future. This perspective imbues our dreamscapes with a powerful, almost spiritual, aura.
On the other hand, the realm of psychology offers a compelling alternative: dreams as eruptions of the subconscious. Freud famously theorised that dreams are the “royal road to the unconscious,” a space where repressed desires, unresolved conflicts, and hidden anxieties can manifest in symbolic form. From this viewpoint, those fleeting images and nonsensical narratives are not random but are rather the deeply buried parts of ourselves fighting for attention. That recurring dream of being chased might not be a premonition of danger, but a symbolic representation of avoidance in our waking life. Understanding these subconscious eruptions can be a powerful tool for self-discovery and personal growth.
But how do we bridge these two seemingly disparate interpretations? And more importantly, how do we glean meaning from the often elusive tapestry of our dreams? For a growing number of individuals, the answer lies in a simple yet profound practice: keeping a dream journal.
The act of writing down your dreams, no matter how fragmented or strange they may seem, is an incredibly potent way to engage with your nocturnal adventures. It’s like catching fireflies in a jar – you’re capturing fleeting moments of light and then examining them more closely in the quiet of the morning.
Here’s why a dream journal can be so transformative:
Enhanced Recall: Dreams are notoriously fleeting. The moment you wake up, the images begin to fade. By immediately jotting down what you remember, you’re preserving these valuable fragments before they vanish into the ether. Even a few keywords or a fleeting image can trigger fuller memories later.
Pattern Recognition: Over time, you’ll start to notice recurring themes, symbols, and emotions in your dreams. This is where the real magic of a journal unfolds. Are you frequently encountering water? Are there specific people who keep appearing? These patterns can offer profound insights into your current emotional state, your subconscious concerns, and even your deepest aspirations.
Symbol Interpretation: While some dream symbols are universal, many are deeply personal. By seeing your symbols laid out in your journal, you can begin to decipher their unique meaning to you. What does that specific colour, that peculiar object, or that strange location represent in your personal lexicon?
Bridging the Gap: A dream journal can act as a bridge between the magical and the mundane. You can still appreciate the fantastical journeys while simultaneously seeking the underlying psychological messages. It allows for both wonder and introspection.
Boosting Creativity: Many artists, writers, and musicians draw inspiration directly from their dreams. A well-maintained dream journal can be a treasure trove of unique ideas, unexpected plot twists, and evocative imagery, fueling your creative endeavours.
Whether you view your dreams as whimsical escapades or as vital messages from your inner self, the practice of keeping a dream journal offers a tangible way to connect with this mysterious and often overlooked aspect of your existence. So, next time you wake with a phantom sensation or a lingering image, grab a notebook and pen. You might just be on the verge of unlocking a hidden world within yourself.
What are your thoughts on dreams? Do you keep a dream journal? Share your experiences in the comments below!
Not getting off at Port Said, but going on to Alexandria to disembark with the other people involved in the war.
He is to be met on the wharf, and after disembarkation, that person could be any one of hundreds swarming towards the trains, officers barking orders and people going in all directions.
Confusion and chaos.
Then a voice comes out of the chaos. A Staff Sergeant with a booming voice.
Orders.
Handed over, get on the train to Cairo, on your way, son….
He was just another soldier.
He goes to Cairo, reading the contents of a letter that’s marked read this first…
From his father
Then, read this second
Instructions on where to go in Cairo.
Cloak and dagger, seemingly, but he suspected it was anything but.
Day 27 – The story behind the network evolution using the very first IBM PC’s
Title: From Monolithic Isolation to Distributed Connectivity: The Genesis of Networked Computing in the Early IBM PC Era (1981–1985)
Abstract
The introduction of the IBM Personal Computer (PC) in 1981 fundamentally altered the landscape of corporate and personal computing. Initially conceived as a powerful, yet standalone, desktop appliance, the PC was often relegated to the role of a ‘dumb terminal’ for accessing centralised mainframe resources. This paper analyses the pivotal transition from this monolithic architecture to a distributed networking paradigm during the early 1980s. We examine the initial proprietary offerings, such as IBM’s PC Network and Token Ring, and the critical role played by pioneers like 3Com and Novell in establishing the Local Area Network (LAN) using dedicated servers and structured cabling. Furthermore, the paper details the parallel evolution of remote connectivity, tracing the significance of asynchronous communication, which began at speeds of 300 baud, facilitating inter-city data exchange essential for the nascent connected world, all before the commercialisation of the Internet protocol suite.
1. Introduction: The Standalone PC and the Centralised Model
The IBM PC (Model 5150) was positioned primarily as an individual productivity tool. Its architecture was self-contained, relying on local storage (floppy disks or, later, small hard drives) and running the MS-DOS operating system. In the corporate environment of the early 1980s, the predominant computing model was centralised, anchored by IBM mainframes (e.g., the System/370) or powerful minicomputers.
1.1 The PC as a Terminal Emulator
Despite its processing power, the PC’s initial function within large organisations was often one of subordination. To leverage existing infrastructure and data, the PC had to emulate legacy terminal devices. Although the prompt references the less common VT50 protocol, the historical necessity was to emulate terminals built by Digital Equipment Corporation (DEC) (e.g., VT52 and VT100 series) or IBM’s own proprietary 3270 synchronous terminals.
Using specialised hardware (e.g., communications adapter cards) and software, the PC operated as a passive gateway, sending keystrokes and receiving screen updates over serial lines. In this configuration, the PC was effectively isolated; it could not share resources directly with other PCs, and its local processing power was secondary to the mainframe’s central control. This era represented the PC’s embryonic phase—powerful hardware trapped within a legacy, non-networked framework.
2. The Paradigm Shift: Distributed Computing and the LAN
The inherent inefficiency of the isolated PC model—characterised by redundant peripheral purchases (printers, expensive storage) and difficulty in sharing data—catalysed the demand for dedicated local area networking (LANs). A network solution had to address file sharing, print spooling, and, crucially, provide a robust alternative to mainframe dependency.
IBM entered the networking market with caution, often favouring proprietary technologies that leveraged its dominant position.
The IBM PC Network (1984): IBM’s first official foray into PC networking was based on broadband coaxial cable and utilised CSMA/CD (Carrier Sense Multiple Access with Collision Detection), similar in concept to Ethernet but incompatible with existing Ethernet standards. While functional, the PC Network was costly, cumbersome to install, and offered relatively slow speeds (2 Mbps). It failed to gain widespread adoption outside of niche corporate environments.
Token Ring (1985): Recognising the limitations of the PC Network, IBM aggressively pushed the Token Ring architecture. Token Ring utilised a deterministic, token-passing access method, which IBM claimed offered superior reliability and predictability under heavy load compared to the probabilistic nature of collision-based systems like Ethernet. Token Ring required specialized cabling (shielded twisted-pair, STP) and expensive Multi-Station Access Units (MAUs). Although technologically robust and adopted heavily by large enterprises loyal to the IBM brand, it faced significant market challenges.
2.2 The Rise of Open Standards and Dedicated Servers
While IBM focused on proprietary solutions, the market rapidly embraced alternatives that offered lower cost, greater simplicity, and interoperability. This required a fundamental architectural shift: the realisation of the dedicated file server.
3Com and Ethernet: Founded by Robert Metcalfe (co-inventor of Ethernet), 3Com was instrumental in standardising and commercialising Ethernet for the PC platform. Ethernet utilised cheaper coaxial cabling (initially thinnet, 10BASE2) and later unshielded twisted-pair (UTP), operating at a competitive 10 Mbps. 3Com manufactured the critical component: the Network Interface Card (NIC). The proliferation of affordable NICs allowed any PC to become a network node.
Novell NetWare: The technical infrastructure (NICs and cabling) required an operating system layer to manage the distributed resources. Novell NetWare, released in the early 1980s, became the indispensable operating system for these early LANs. NetWare’s innovation was its high-performance file service, running on a dedicated PC server. This architecture formalised the necessary components of a modern LAN:
Dedicated Server: A powerful PC running server-specific software (e.g., NetWare, not standard DOS) responsible solely for managing shared files, applications, and printers.
Structured Cabling: Physical media (coax or twisted-pair) installed throughout the office, replacing haphazard point-to-point connections.
Client-Server Model: Client PCs (workstations) running DOS or Windows accessed services managed by the server, executing application logic locally but storing data centrally.
This explosion of distributed networking empowered departments to manage their own data and resources, leading to a profound decentralisation of IT previously unthinkable in the mainframe era.
3. Bridging the Distance: Asynchronous Communication and the Modem
While LANs solved the within-building connectivity challenge, a parallel technological wave addressed inter-site and remote access needs: asynchronous, dial-up communication via modems.
3.1 The 300 Baud Revolution
In the early 1980s, the standard for personal computer remote access was the 300 baud (bits per second) modem. This speed allowed for extremely slow data transfer, taking approximately 10 seconds to transmit a standard 4,000-character screen of text. While seemingly primitive, the 300 baud modem represented a crucial technological breakthrough:
POTS Utilisation: It converted digital computer signals into analogue audio tones that could travel reliably over the existing Public Switched Telephone Network (PSTN), meaning remote access did not require expensive, dedicated leased lines.
Accessibility: Modems, standardised via protocols like Bell 103, made connectivity affordable and location-independent for small businesses and hobbyists.
3.2 Early Remote Connectivity: Servers, BBS, and File Transfer
The primary uses for these early remote connections defined the precursor environment to the modern Internet:
Bulletin Board Systems (BBS): Individuals ran server software on their home or office PCs, allowing others to dial in to exchange messages, share rudimentary file libraries, and engage in early forms of online community (e.g., using protocols like XMODEM or YMODEM for error-checked file transfers). The BBS represented a decentralised network of independent servers.
Corporate Remote Access: Businesses used modems to connect branch offices to central minicomputers or to allow remote employees (or travelling sales staff) to check email or synchronise small data files.
Early Service Providers: Companies established commercial proprietary networks (e.g., CompuServe, The Source) that users accessed via dial-up modems, providing news, weather, and basic email services.
These slow, point-to-point connections established the critical principle of wide-area data sharing, laying the conceptual groundwork for the necessity of standardised, high-speed protocols that TCP/IP would eventually provide.
4. Conclusion: The Foundation of Modern Networking
The period between 1981 and 1985 marks one of the most significant architectural shifts in computing history. The IBM PC, initially a standalone device, forced organisations to move past the bottlenecks and costs associated with monolithic, terminal-based computing.
While IBM attempted to dictate the networking standard with proprietary solutions like Token Ring, the market decisively favoured open, affordable alternatives pioneered by companies like 3Com (Ethernet hardware) and Novell (NetWare server software). This established the fundamental architecture of the modern office: distributed processing, dedicated file servers, and structured cabling (LANs). Simultaneously, the humble modem and its 300 baud pace provided the necessary remote-access capability, demonstrating the value of asynchronous wide-area connectivity.
This early 1980s transformation—the shift from centralised control to decentralised, networked resources—was not merely a technical upgrade; it was a socio-economic revolution that democratized data access and paved the way for the high-speed, interoperable infrastructure upon which the global Internet would later be built.
References
(Note: As a simulated academic paper, specific citations are generalised, but would typically include historical corporate documentation, technical standards papers, and contemporary computing periodicals.)
Clark, D. D., Lambert, M. L., & Falk, E. N. (1988). The IBM PC and the Token Ring Network: A Technical Perspective. IBM Systems Journal.
Metcalfe, R. M., & Boggs, D. R. (1976). Ethernet: Distributed packet switching for local computer networks. Communications of the ACM, 19(7), 395-404.
Petersen, M. (1995). The Novell Story: How NetWare Built an Empire. Business History Review.
Quarterman, J. S. (1990). The Matrix: Computer Networks and Conferencing Systems Worldwide. Digital Press.
Wallace, R. (1984). The History and Future of the Modem. Byte Magazine.
The Writer’s Quest: Not Preaching, But Discovering Truth
Milan Kundera, the literary titan behind “The Unbearable Lightness of Being,” posited a profound idea about the writer’s role: “To be a writer does not mean to preach the truth, it means to discover the truth.” This statement, seemingly simple, carries immense weight. It shifts our perception of literature from a didactic tool, a podium from which to dispense wisdom, to a more intricate, exploratory, and frankly, more human endeavor.
Think about the writers we truly admire. Are they the ones who confidently declare absolutes, who arrive with ready-made answers to life’s complex questions? Or are they the ones who delve into the murky depths of human experience, who ask the uncomfortable questions, who present us with characters grappling with dilemmas, whose narratives leave us with more to ponder than to accept? Kundera’s assertion points squarely to the latter.
The Perils of Preaching:
When a writer aims to “preach the truth,” they often fall into the trap of pronouncements and dogma. This can lead to a literature that feels rigid, self-righteous, and ultimately, less engaging. The reader, instead of being invited into a shared exploration, is positioned as a passive recipient, expected to nod in agreement. This approach can alienate, rather than connect, because it presumes a singular, universally applicable truth, which, as any honest observer of life knows, is a rare commodity.
Furthermore, the act of preaching implies certainty. But life, in its most compelling and resonant forms, is rarely certain. It’s a tapestry woven with doubt, ambiguity, and the constant negotiation between conflicting desires and circumstances. A writer who preaches a singular truth risks flattening this rich complexity, presenting a sanitized and incomplete version of reality.
The Power of Discovery:
Kundera’s alternative, “to discover the truth,” is an invitation to a journey. It acknowledges that truth is not a static object to be unearthed and displayed, but a fluid, multifaceted entity that can be approached from myriad angles. The writer, in this paradigm, becomes an explorer, venturing into the uncharted territories of the human psyche, societal structures, and the very fabric of existence.
This discovery process is inherently collaborative. The writer offers a map, a collection of observations, a series of carefully crafted questions, and the reader embarks alongside them. Through the act of reading, we engage with the writer’s discoveries, testing them against our own experiences, questioning them, and in doing so, forming our own understanding, our own truths.
What This Discovery Looks Like in Practice:
Embracing Ambiguity: Great literature often thrives on ambiguity. Characters are rarely all good or all bad. Situations are rarely clear-cut. The writer, through their art, allows these shades of gray to exist, inviting us to grapple with the moral and emotional complexities they represent. Think of the moral quandaries faced by characters in Dostoevsky or the existential struggles in Camus.
Asking Profound Questions: Instead of providing answers, the writer poses questions that resonate deeply. They might explore the nature of love, the weight of memory, the impact of power, or the search for meaning. These questions, presented through narrative and character, become prompts for our own introspection.
Illuminating the Human Condition: By focusing on the often-mundane yet profound experiences of individuals, writers can illuminate universal truths about what it means to be human. The act of observing and articulating these experiences, with honesty and nuance, is a form of discovery.
Challenging Assumptions: Effective writers don’t just reflect the world; they interrogate it. They use their stories to challenge our preconceived notions, to reveal hidden biases, and to offer fresh perspectives that might otherwise remain unseen.
In essence, Kundera’s statement liberates the writer. It frees them from the burden of certainty and empowers them to embrace the messy, beautiful, and often bewildering process of understanding. It reminds us that the true magic of literature lies not in being told what to believe, but in being guided to discover it for ourselves, thread by intricate thread, word by evocative word. And in that shared act of discovery, we find a deeper, more authentic connection to the stories we read and to each other.
Beyond Ban Jelačić: 5 Hidden Gems That Define the Real Zagreb
Zagreb. The name conjures images of the iconic red roofs of the Upper Town, the vibrant café culture of the Lower Town, and the mandatory selfies by the Funicular. It’s a beautifully manageable European capital, often praised for its charm and easy walkability.
But for the seasoned traveller—the one who seeks the unvarnished truth of a city—the real magic often lies where the tourist map runs thin.
If you’ve already checked off the Museum of Broken Relationships and sipped your coffee on Cvjetni Trg, it’s time to venture deeper. We’ve compiled the five essential experiences that will take you off the beaten path and into the authentic heart of Zagreb.
1. Descend into History: The Grič Tunnel
While many tourists stick to the surface, locals know that a fascinating, slightly eerie piece of history lies just beneath the cobblestones of the Upper Town.
The Grič Tunnel is a 350-meter-long passage originally constructed during World War II as an air-raid shelter. For decades, it was mostly forgotten, dark, and damp. Today, it has been beautifully renovated and repurposed as a public walkway, linking Radićeva Street (near the main square) to the other side of Grič Hill (near Mesnička Street).
It’s often used for fashion shows, art installations, and even the spectacular Advent in Zagreb Christmas market features sections here. But even on a quiet Tuesday afternoon, walking through its vast, vaulted halls offers a cool, dramatic escape and a poignant reminder of Zagreb’s turbulent past.
Why it’s RLT (Road Less Travelled): Many tourists assume it’s a construction site or just a side alley, missing the entrance entirely.
Insider Tip: While there are several entrances, try the one on Radićeva Street for the full dramatic walk-through experience.
2. A Silent Architectural Masterpiece: Mirogoj Cemetery
Admittedly, the word “cemetery” might not immediately sound like a key tourist destination, but Mirogoj is unlike any other burial ground. Designed in 1876 by the famed architect Hermann Bollé, Mirogoj is less a cemetery and more an open-air art gallery and park.
What defines the space are the massive, sweeping neo-Renaissance arcades clad in green ivy, housing the tombs of Croatia’s most influential figures, from writers and artists to politicians. The central dome and the rows of elegant statues create an atmosphere of serene, melancholy beauty.
This is a space that speaks volumes about Croatian history, artistry, and respect for the departed. It’s quiet, reflective, and stunningly photogenic—a short bus ride from the city centre, but a world away from the city noise.
Why it’s RLT (Road Less Travelled): It requires a slight detour (Bus 106 from Kaptol), discouraging day-trippers focused solely on the centre.
Best Time to Visit: Early morning or late afternoon, when the sun casts dramatic shadows across the ivy-covered arcades.
3. The Unassuming Heart of Local Life: Trešnjevka Market
To truly feel the pulse of local Zagreb life, you need to leave the polished centre and head west to the bustling district of Trešnjevka. While Dolac Market is mandatory viewing, Trešnjevački plac (Trešnjevka Market) is where real Zagreb families shop.
This market is large, chaotic, affordable, and incredibly authentic. You won’t just find your typical kumice (market grandmothers) selling produce; you’ll find everything from hardware stalls and used clothing to cheap, traditional dining halls (gableci) serving hearty lunch deals.
Wander the indoor stalls filled with vintage clothing and household trinkets, or browse the outdoor stands overflowing with local cheeses, fresh meats, and flowers. This is the perfect place to grab a ridiculously inexpensive lunch and observe the daily rhythm of the city’s working class.
Why it’s RLT (Road Less Travelled): Located outside the traditional tourist triangle, it requires using the tram system (Trams 3, 9, 12).
What to Try: Look for a gablec (daily lunch) sign—usually a simple, filling meal like goulash or stuffed peppers for under €7.
4. Find the Inventors’ Spirit: The Technical Museum Nikola Tesla
While art and history museums abound in Zagreb, the Technical Museum often gets overlooked in favor of flashier attractions. This is a mistake, especially for those interested in science, industry, and the incredible contributions of Croatian minds.
Named after the world-famous inventor Nikola Tesla, this museum is a fantastic throwback, filled with retro industrial machinery, firefighting equipment, and displays dedicated to engineering breakthroughs. Highlights include a full-scale coal mine model (which you can walk through!), vintage trams, and a dedicated room honouring Tesla himself.
It’s hands-on, slightly dusty in a charming way, and a beautiful testament to Croatia’s industrial history and inventive spirit.
Why it’s RLT (Road Less Travelled): It isn’t located directly in the central museum quadrant, requiring a short tram ride south of the main train station.
Must-See: Check the schedule for the planetarium shows. They are highly rated and offer an excellent break from walking.
5. Escape to the Peak: Medvednica Nature Park
If you feel the need for fresh mountain air and stunning city views that rival those from Lotrščak Tower, hop on a bus or drive toward the northern edge of the city and ascend the Medvednica mountain range.
Medvednica, with its highest peak, Sljeme, is Zagreb’s essential backyard playground. It offers miles of hiking/biking trails, the historic Medvedgrad (a medieval fortified town), and, most importantly, numerous traditional mountain huts (planinarski domovi) serving classic, hearty Croatian mountain food.
Spend a day hiking to one of the lookouts, explore the Veternica cave, or just drive up for lunch at the top. The views are spectacular, and the atmosphere is entirely different from the busy city below.
Why it’s RLT (Road Less Travelled): Requires dedicated travel time and is not a quick walk-by attraction.
What to Try: Order štrukli (baked cheese pastry) at a mountain hut after a long walk—it’s the ultimate Croatian comfort food, and it tastes better high up in the woods.
The Reward of the Detour
Zagreb is a city built on layers of history, culture, and architecture. While the central squares offer undeniable beauty, the true reward comes when you step off the main path.
These five spots provide a window into the life that sustains the city, whether that’s the silent dignity of a historic park, the daily bustle of a working market, or the rugged landscape that surrounds it.
So, put away the polished guidebook, grab a tram, and go discover the real, complex, and captivating Zagreb.
It was the first time in almost a week that I made the short walk to the cafe alone. It was early, and the chill of the morning was still in the air. In summer, it was the best time of the day. When Susan came with me, it was usually much later, when the day was much warmer and less tolerable.
On the morning of the third day of her visit, Susan said she was missing the hustle and bustle of London, and by the end of the fourth she said, in not so many words, she was over being away from ‘civilisation’. This was a side of her I had not seen before, and it surprised me.
She hadn’t complained, but it was making her irritable. The Susan that morning was vastly different to the Susan on the first day. So much, I thought, for her wanting to ‘reconnect’, the word she had used as the reason for coming to Greve unannounced.
It was also the first morning I had time to reflect on her visit and what my feelings were towards her. It was the reason I’d come to Greve: to soak up the peace and quiet and think about what I was going to do with the rest of my life.
I sat in my usual corner. Maria, one of two waitresses, came out, stopped, and there was no mistaking the relief in her manner. There was an air of tension between Susan and Maria I didn’t understand, and it seemed to emanate from Susan rather than the other way around. I could understand her attitude if it was towards Alisha, but not Maria. All she did was serve coffee and cake.
When Maria recovered from the momentary surprise, she said, smiling, “You are by yourself?” She gave a quick glance in the direction of my villa, just to be sure.
“I am this morning. I’m afraid the heat, for one who is not used to it, can be quite debilitating. I’m also afraid it has had a bad effect on her manners, for which I apologise. I cannot explain why she has been so rude to you.”
“You do not have to apologise for her, David, but it is of no consequence to me. I have had a lot worse. I think she is simply jealous.”
It had crossed my mind, but there was no reason for her to be. “Why?”
“She is a woman, I am a woman, she thinks because you and I are friends, there is something between us.”
It made sense, even if it was not true. “Perhaps if I explained…”
Maria shook her head. “If there is a hole in the boat, you should not keep bailing but try to plug the hole. My grandfather had many expressions, David. If I may give you one piece of advice, as much as it is none of my business, you need to make your feelings known, and if they are not as they once were, and I think they are not, you need to tell her. Before she goes home.”
Interesting advice. Not only a purveyor of excellent coffee, but Maria was also a psychiatrist who had astutely worked out my dilemma. What was that expression, ‘not just a pretty face’?
“Is she leaving soon?” I asked, thinking Maria knew more about Susan’s movements than I did.
“You would disappoint me if you had not suspected as much. Susan was having coffee and talking to someone in her office on a cell phone. It was an intense conversation. I should not eavesdrop, but she said being here was like being stuck in hell. It is a pity she does not share your love for our little piece of paradise, is it not?”
“It is indeed. And you’re right. She said she didn’t have a phone, but I know she has one. She just doesn’t value the idea of getting away from the office. Perhaps her role doesn’t afford her that luxury.”
And perhaps Alisha was right about Maria, that I should be more careful. She had liked Maria the moment she saw her. We had sat at this very table, the first day I arrived. I would have travelled alone, but Prendergast, my old boss, liked to know where ex-employees of the Department were, and what they were doing.
She sighed. “I am glad I am just a waitress. Your usual coffee and cake?”
“Yes, please.”
Several months had passed since we had rescued Susan from her despotic father; she had recovered faster than we had thought, and settled into her role as the new Lady Featherington, though she preferred not to use that title, but go by the name of Lady Susan Cheney.
I didn’t get to be a Lord, or have any title, not that I was expecting one. What I had expected was that Susan, once she found her footing as head of what seemed to be a commercial empire, would not have time for details like husbands, particularly when our agreement made before the wedding gave either of us the right to end it.
There was a moment when I visited her recovering in the hospital, where I was going to give her the out, but I didn’t, and she had not invoked it. We were still married, just not living together.
This visit was one where she wanted to ‘reconnect’ as she called it, and invite me to come home with her. She saw no reason why we could not resume our relationship, conveniently forgetting she indirectly had me arrested for her murder, charges both her mother and Lucy vigorously pursued, and had the clone not returned to save me, I might still be in jail.
It was not something I would forgive or forget any time soon.
There were other reasons why I was reluctant to stay with her, like forgetting small details, an irregularity in her character I found odd. She looked the same, she sounded the same, she basically acted the same, but my mind was telling me something was not right. It was not the Susan I first met, even allowing for the ordeal she had been subjected to.
But, despite those misgivings, there was no question in my mind that I still loved her, and her clandestine arrival had brought back all those feelings. But as the days passed, I began to get the impression my feelings were one-sided and she was just going through the motions.
Which brought me to the last argument, earlier, where I said if I went with her, it would be business meetings, social obligations, and quite simply her ‘celebrity’ status that would keep us apart. I reminded her that I had said from the outset I didn’t like the idea of being in the spotlight, and when I reiterated it, she simply brushed it off as just part of the job, adding rather strangely that I always looked good in a suit. The flippancy of that comment was the last straw, and I left before I said something I would regret.
I knew I was not a priority. Maybe somewhere inside me, I had wanted to be a priority, and I was disappointed when I was not.
And finally, there was Alisha. Susan, at the height of the argument, had intimated she believed I had an affair with her, but that elephant was always in the room whenever Alisha was around. It was no surprise when I learned Susan had asked Prendergast to reassign her to other duties.
At least I knew what my feelings for Alisha were, and there were times when I had to remember she was persona non grata. Perhaps that was why Susan had her banished, but, again, a small detail; jealousy was not one of Susan’s traits when I first knew her.
Perhaps it was time to set Susan free.
When I swung around to look in the direction of the lane where my villa was, I saw Susan. She was formally dressed, not in her ‘tourist’ clothes, which she had bought from one of the local clothing stores. We had fun that day, shopping for clothes, a chore I’d always hated. It had been followed by a leisurely lunch, lots of wine and soul searching.
It was the reason why I sat in this corner; old habits die hard. I could see trouble coming from all directions, not that Susan was trouble or at least I hoped not, but it allowed me the time to watch her walking towards the cafe in what appeared to be short, angry steps; perhaps the culmination of the heat wave and our last argument.
She glared at me as she sat, dropping her bag beside her on the ground, where I could see the cell phone sitting on top. She followed my glance down, and then she looked unrepentant back at me.
Maria came back at the exact moment she was going to speak. I noticed Maria hesitate for a second when she saw Susan, then put her smile in place to deliver my coffee.
Neither spoke nor looked at each other. I said, “Susan will have what I’m having, thanks.”
Maria nodded and left.
“Now,” I said, leaning back in my seat, “I’m sure there’s a perfectly good explanation as to why you didn’t tell me about the phone, but that first time you disappeared, I’d guessed you needed to keep in touch with your business interests. I thought it somewhat unwisethat you should come out when the board of one of your companies was trying to remove you, because of what was it, an unexplained absence? All you had to do was tell me there were problems and you needed to remain at home to resolve them.”
My comment elicited a sideways look, with a touch of surprise.
“It was unfortunate timing on their behalf, and I didn’t want you to think everything else was more important than us. There were issues before I came, and I thought the people at home would be able to manage without me for at least a week, but I was wrong.”
“Why come at all. A phone call would have sufficed.”
“I had to see you, talk to you. At least we have had a chance to do that. I’m sorry about yesterday. I once told you I would not become my mother, but I’m afraid I sounded just like her. I misjudged just how much this role would affect me, and truly, I’m sorry.”
An apology was the last thing I expected.
“You have a lot of work to do catching up after being away, and of course, in replacing your mother and gaining the requisite respect as the new Lady Featherington. I think it would be for the best if I were not another distraction. We have plenty of time to reacquaint ourselves when you get past all these teething issues.”
“You’re not coming with me?” She sounded disappointed.
“I think it would be for the best if I didn’t.”
“Why?”
“It should come as no surprise to you that I’ve been keeping an eye on your progress. You are so much better doing your job without me. I told your mother once that when the time came I would not like the responsibilities of being your husband. Now that I have seen what it could possibly entail, I like it even less. You might also want to reconsider our arrangement, after all, we only had a marriage of convenience, and now that those obligations have been fulfilled, we both have the option of terminating it. I won’t make things difficult for you if that’s what you want.”
It was yet another anomaly, I thought; she should look distressed, and I would raise the matter of that arrangement. Perhaps she had forgotten the finer points. I, on the other hand, had always known we would not last forever. The perplexed expression, to me, was a sign she might have forgotten.
Then, her expression changed. “Is that what you want?”
“I wasn’t madly in love with you when we made that arrangement, so it was easy to agree to your terms, but inexplicably, since then, my feelings for you changed, and I would be sad if we parted ways. But the truth is, I can’t see how this is going to work.”
“In saying that, do you think I don’t care for you?”
That was exactly what I was thinking, but I wasn’t going to voice that opinion out loud. “You spent a lot of time finding new ways to make my life miserable, Susan. You and that wretched friend of yours, Lucy. While your attitude improved after we were married, that was because you were going to use me when you went to see your father, and then almost let me go to prison for your murder.”
“I had nothing to do with that, other than to leave, and I didn’t agree with Lucy that you should be made responsible for my disappearance. I cannot be held responsible for the actions of my mother. She hated you; Lucy didn’t understand you, and Millie told me I was stupid for not loving you in return, and she was right. Why do you think I gave you such a hard time? You made it impossible not to fall in love with you, and it nearly changed my mind about everything I’d been planning so meticulously. But perhaps there was a more subliminal reason why I did because after I left, I wanted to believe, if anything went wrong, you would come and find me.”
“How could you possibly know that I’d even consider doing something like that, given what you knew about me?”
“Prendergast made a passing comment when my mother asked him about you; he told us you were very good at finding people and even better at fixing problems.”
“And yet here we are, one argument away from ending it.”
I could see Maria hovering, waiting for the right moment to deliver her coffee, then go back and find Gianna, the café owner, instead. Gianna was more abrupt and, for that reason, was rarely seen serving the customers. Today, she was particularly cantankerous, banging the cake dish on the table and frowning at Susan before returning to her kitchen. Gianna didn’t like Susan either.
Behind me, I heard a car stop, and when she looked up, I knew it was for her. She had arrived with nothing, and she was leaving with nothing.
She stood. “Last chance.”
“Forever?”
She hesitated and then shook away the look of annoyance on her face. “Of course not. I wanted you to come back with me so we could continue working on our relationship. I agree there are problems, but it’s nothing we can’t resolve if we try.”
I had been trying. “It’s too soon for both of us, Susan. I need to be able to trust you, and given the circumstances, and all that water under the bridge, I’m not sure if I can yet.”
She frowned at me. “As you wish.” She took an envelope out of her bag and put it on the table. “When you are ready, it’s an open ticket home. Please make it sooner rather than later. Despite what you think of me, I have missed you, and I have no intention of ending it between us.”
That said, she glared at me for a minute, shook her head, then walked to the car. I watched her get in and the car drive slowly away.
Beyond the Castle: 5 Offbeat Adventures in Bratislava You Won’t Find on Every Postcard
Bratislava. The name itself conjures images of a charming Old Town, the majestic castle perched above the Danube, and perhaps a quirky statue or two. And while these icons are undeniably wonderful, there’s a whole other side to Slovakia’s capital waiting to be discovered – a side that reveals the city’s true character, its rich history, and its vibrant local life, far from the well-trodden tourist paths.
If you’re ready to peel back the layers and experience Bratislava like a true explorer, here are five “road less travelled” adventures that promise unique memories and a deeper connection to this captivating city.
1. Ascend to Slavin Memorial: History, Views, and Serenity
While Bratislava Castle offers fantastic views, for a truly poignant and panoramic experience, head to Slavin Memorial. This colossal war memorial and cemetery honours the Soviet soldiers who fell liberating Bratislava during World War II. It’s a powerful, solemn place, but also one offering some of the most breathtaking, unobstructed views of the city, the Danube, and even the distant Austrian Alps.
Why it’s less travelled: Many tourists stick to the immediate Old Town. Slavin requires a short, scenic bus ride or a determined uphill walk, making it feel like a discovered secret.
What to expect: A grand staircase leading to an obelisk crowned with a triumphant soldier statue. Spend time walking among the graves, decorated with red stars, and then simply soak in the epic vista. It’s a place for reflection and stunning photography, especially at sunset.
How to get there: Take a local bus (such as number 203 or 207) from Hodžovo námestie (Presidential Palace) or take a taxi/ride-sharing service.
2. Explore the Small Carpathian Wine Route: A Taste of Local Tradition
Did you know Bratislava is the gateway to a historic wine region? Just a short drive or train ride from the city lies the Small Carpathian Wine Route (Malokarpatská Vínna Cesta), a picturesque trail dotted with charming winemaking villages like Pezinok and Modra. This region has been producing wine for centuries, and it’s a delightful escape from urban life.
Why it’s less travelled: While some tour operators offer trips, many independent travellers miss this authentic experience, opting for day trips to neighbouring capitals instead.
What to expect: Hop on a local train to Pezinok or Modra, and wander through their quaint streets. Look for traditional wine cellars (“vínne pivnice”) offering tastings of local varietals like Grüner Veltliner, Frankovka Modrá (Blaufränkisch), and Müller-Thurgau. Many wineries offer delicious regional snacks to accompany your tasting. If visiting in autumn, look out for the “burčiak,” a partially fermented young wine – a local delicacy!
How to get there: Take a regional train from Bratislava Hlavná Stanica (Main Station) to Pezinok or Modra. The journey takes around 20-30 minutes.
3. Discover the Danubiana Meulensteen Art Museum: Art on the Water
For a dose of contemporary art in an utterly unique setting, make your way to the Danubiana Meulensteen Art Museum. Located on a peninsula in the Danube River, about 15km south of Bratislava, this modern art gallery is a masterpiece in itself, offering stunning architecture, thought-provoking exhibitions, and incredible river views.
Why it’s less travelled: Its location outside the immediate city centre means it’s often overlooked by visitors with limited time.
What to expect: A captivating journey through modern and contemporary art, primarily by Slovak and international artists. The museum’s design allows natural light to flood the spaces, and the outdoor sculpture park, with its whimsical pieces set against the river backdrop, is a joy to explore. You can even enjoy a coffee with a view from their café.
How to get there: The most scenic (and recommended) way is by a special tourist boat that departs from Fajnorovo nábrežie near the Old Town (check seasonal schedules). Alternatively, take a local bus (number 90) from Nový Most (UFO Bridge) or a taxi/ride-sharing service.
4. Hike to Kamzík TV Tower & Koliba: Nature, Adventure, and Views
Escape the city hustle and immerse yourself in nature by heading up to the forested hills of Koliba, home to the iconic Kamzík TV Tower. This area is a beloved recreational spot for locals, offering hiking trails, a bobsled track, and, of course, the observation deck of the TV tower for breathtaking panoramic views.
Why it’s less travelled: Many tourists don’t realise such an extensive green space, complete with a TV tower offering great views, is so accessible from the city.
What to expect: Take the historic Kamzík cable car (Železná studnička – Koliba) up the hill, or hike one of the many well-marked trails. Once at the top, you can ascend the TV tower for 360-degree vistas (there’s also a rotating restaurant at the top if you’re feeling fancy!). In winter, it’s a popular spot for sledding, and in warmer months, you’ll find families picnicking and enjoying the fresh air.
How to get there: Take tram number 3 or 9 to the “Železná studnička” stop, then walk or take the cable car up to Koliba. Alternatively, bus number 203 or 207 will get you closer to the TV Tower area.
5. Dive into Local Life at Miletičova Tržnica (Market): A Sensory Feast
For an authentic slice of everyday Bratislava life, head to Miletičova Tržnica, the city’s largest outdoor and indoor market. This isn’t a quaint artisan market; it’s a bustling, vibrant hub where locals come to buy fresh produce, clothes, household goods, and indulge in hearty Slovak street food.
Why it’s less travelled: It’s located outside the immediate city centre in a residential area, away from the typical tourist routes.
What to expect: A kaleidoscope of sights, sounds, and smells! Browse stalls overflowing with seasonal fruits, vegetables, cheeses, and smoked meats. Discover quirky fashion, electronics, and souvenirs. But the real highlight is the food: grab a langoš (fried dough with garlic, cheese, and sour cream), a pecené kura (roasted chicken), or a classic halušky (potato dumplings) from one of the many unassuming food stands. It’s an affordable and delicious way to sample local flavours.
How to get there: Take a tram (e.g., number 8 or 9) or bus (e.g., number 50 or 53) to the “Miletičova” stop.
Bratislava is a city that rewards those who dare to venture beyond the obvious. These five experiences offer a taste of its diverse history, natural beauty, artistic spirit, and authentic local charm. So, next time you find yourself in Slovakia’s captivating capital, step off the well-worn path and create your own unique Bratislava story. You won’t regret it!
The Writer’s Quest: Not Preaching, But Discovering Truth
Milan Kundera, the literary titan behind “The Unbearable Lightness of Being,” posited a profound idea about the writer’s role: “To be a writer does not mean to preach the truth, it means to discover the truth.” This statement, seemingly simple, carries immense weight. It shifts our perception of literature from a didactic tool, a podium from which to dispense wisdom, to a more intricate, exploratory, and frankly, more human endeavor.
Think about the writers we truly admire. Are they the ones who confidently declare absolutes, who arrive with ready-made answers to life’s complex questions? Or are they the ones who delve into the murky depths of human experience, who ask the uncomfortable questions, who present us with characters grappling with dilemmas, whose narratives leave us with more to ponder than to accept? Kundera’s assertion points squarely to the latter.
The Perils of Preaching:
When a writer aims to “preach the truth,” they often fall into the trap of pronouncements and dogma. This can lead to a literature that feels rigid, self-righteous, and ultimately, less engaging. The reader, instead of being invited into a shared exploration, is positioned as a passive recipient, expected to nod in agreement. This approach can alienate, rather than connect, because it presumes a singular, universally applicable truth, which, as any honest observer of life knows, is a rare commodity.
Furthermore, the act of preaching implies certainty. But life, in its most compelling and resonant forms, is rarely certain. It’s a tapestry woven with doubt, ambiguity, and the constant negotiation between conflicting desires and circumstances. A writer who preaches a singular truth risks flattening this rich complexity, presenting a sanitized and incomplete version of reality.
The Power of Discovery:
Kundera’s alternative, “to discover the truth,” is an invitation to a journey. It acknowledges that truth is not a static object to be unearthed and displayed, but a fluid, multifaceted entity that can be approached from myriad angles. The writer, in this paradigm, becomes an explorer, venturing into the uncharted territories of the human psyche, societal structures, and the very fabric of existence.
This discovery process is inherently collaborative. The writer offers a map, a collection of observations, a series of carefully crafted questions, and the reader embarks alongside them. Through the act of reading, we engage with the writer’s discoveries, testing them against our own experiences, questioning them, and in doing so, forming our own understanding, our own truths.
What This Discovery Looks Like in Practice:
Embracing Ambiguity: Great literature often thrives on ambiguity. Characters are rarely all good or all bad. Situations are rarely clear-cut. The writer, through their art, allows these shades of gray to exist, inviting us to grapple with the moral and emotional complexities they represent. Think of the moral quandaries faced by characters in Dostoevsky or the existential struggles in Camus.
Asking Profound Questions: Instead of providing answers, the writer poses questions that resonate deeply. They might explore the nature of love, the weight of memory, the impact of power, or the search for meaning. These questions, presented through narrative and character, become prompts for our own introspection.
Illuminating the Human Condition: By focusing on the often-mundane yet profound experiences of individuals, writers can illuminate universal truths about what it means to be human. The act of observing and articulating these experiences, with honesty and nuance, is a form of discovery.
Challenging Assumptions: Effective writers don’t just reflect the world; they interrogate it. They use their stories to challenge our preconceived notions, to reveal hidden biases, and to offer fresh perspectives that might otherwise remain unseen.
In essence, Kundera’s statement liberates the writer. It frees them from the burden of certainty and empowers them to embrace the messy, beautiful, and often bewildering process of understanding. It reminds us that the true magic of literature lies not in being told what to believe, but in being guided to discover it for ourselves, thread by intricate thread, word by evocative word. And in that shared act of discovery, we find a deeper, more authentic connection to the stories we read and to each other.
Finally, our protagonist is travelling first class back to England. He thinks to himself that if the ship is torpedoed, he might have a better chance at survival, but there is that thing about women and children first, so it’s a moot point.
A casualty of war seems his inevitable lot.
There are doctors and nurses on board, and he mentions he travelled out with a particular young lady and asks if they know her. Only too well, and well, he does wish in the end that he didn’t ask.
It is not surprising, though, because Louise is a kind, gentle, but apparently fun-loving soul given the right circumstances, and he is, in a way, glad that she survived the voyage and found a way to be useful. And fortunately, perhaps, not married or in a serious relationship with a young doctor.
He would never be able to compete with that.
It’s a fascinating run, from Fremantle to Colombo, all the while wondering if there is a German ship out there waiting for them.
There is not.
Coaling in Aden, and then through the Red Sea, familiar territory, and heat, which he is almost accustomed to through his first stint on the way out, and then a year in outback Queensland.
No one believes him when he tells them he was cattle mustering.
They do, however, take his title seriously, and no one will call him David.
From Page to Panorama: Weaving Mythopoetic Grandeur into the Fabric of Reality
We’ve all experienced it. That moment when a skilled author transports us, not just to a place, but into a feeling, a scent, a visceral understanding of something utterly foreign yet strangely resonant. It’s the magic of descriptive writing, the alchemical process of turning mere words into sensory experiences. But what happens when we take those finely honed fictional tools and turn them towards the canvas of our own reality? What happens when we begin to weave the mythopoetic grandeur, usually reserved for fantastical realms, into the mundane fabric of everyday life?
This is where the truly transformative power emerges. It’s not about escaping reality, but about re-enchanting it. It’s about recognising that the same imaginative muscles that conjured dragons and epic quests can, with a shift in perspective, illuminate the epic within the ordinary.
The Foundation: The Art of Observational Detail
Before we can imbue our reality with mythopoetic grandeur, we must first become masters of observation. Fictional writers are meticulous. They don’t just say a character is sad; they describe the slump of their shoulders, the way their eyes lose their sparkle, the quiet tremor in their voice. They don’t just say a forest is dark; they paint a picture of gnarled branches like skeletal fingers, shafts of light like ethereal swords, the damp, earthy scent of decay and rebirth.
Applying this to real life means waking up our senses. It means noticing the way the morning light bleeds across the linoleum of your kitchen, transforming it into a pool of molten gold. It’s observing the intricate, almost alien architecture of a spiderweb glistening with dew, a delicate, ephemeral fortress. It’s listening to the symphony of a city at dusk – the distant siren a mournful lament, the laughter of children a fleeting melody, the rumble of traffic a subterranean dragon stirring.
The Alchemy: Infusing Significance and Symbolism
Once we have our raw observational material, the next step is the alchemical process of infusing it with meaning. This is where the “mythopoetic” truly takes hold. We move beyond simple description to interpretation, imbuing our observations with layers of significance and symbolism, much like ancient storytellers did.
The Mundane Becomes Mythic: A walk to the grocery store isn’t just an errand. It can be a pilgrimage through the daily labyrinth, a quest for sustenance that echoes the ancient hunts. The cashier, with their practised smile, could be a guardian of provisions, a dispenser of earthly blessings.
The Everyday Becomes Archetypal: The familiar faces we encounter can be viewed through the lens of archetypes. The wise elder at the park bench might embody the archetype of the Sage. The boisterous teenager could be the Rebel, challenging the established order with youthful energy.
The Emotional Landscape Gains Depth: Sadness isn’t just a feeling; it’s a “gathering storm,” a “heavy cloak,” a “deep well of unspoken grief.” Joy isn’t just happiness; it’s a “sunburst,” a “lightness of being,” a “song rising from the soul.”
The Grandeur: Elevating the Narrative of Our Lives
The ultimate goal is to elevate the narrative of our own lives, to recognise the inherent grandeur that often lies dormant beneath the surface of routine. This doesn’t mean fabricating events or pretending our challenges aren’t real. Instead, it’s about framing them within a larger, more resonant context.
Consider a difficult conversation. Instead of simply recalling the angry words, we can describe the “clash of wills,” the “stalemate of emotions,” the “fragile truce that followed.” A moment of quiet contemplation isn’t just zoning out; it’s “diving into the depths of the inner sea,” “listening to the whispers of the subconscious.”
Why Does This Matter?
Turning fictional descriptive skills to the rendering of real life in mythopoetic grandeur is more than just a creative exercise. It’s a way to:
Deepen our appreciation for life: By seeing the extraordinary in the ordinary, we cultivate a richer, more vibrant experience of our existence.
Foster resilience: Framing challenges as epic struggles or tests of character can empower us to face them with greater courage and determination.
Connect with something larger than ourselves: Mythopoetic language often taps into universal themes of creation, struggle, love, and loss, fostering a sense of belonging to something ancient and profound.
Communicate more effectively and evocatively: Whether in personal writing, artistic expression, or even everyday conversation, this elevated language can captivate and resonate with others.
The world around us is a vast, intricate tapestry, already rich with potential for wonder and awe. By learning to wield the tools of fictional description with conscious intent, we can begin to see the mythopoetic grandeur woven into the very fabric of our reality. We can stop being passive observers and become active, imaginative narrators of our own magnificent lives. So, open your eyes, awaken your senses, and start painting the world in hues of myth and legend. The grandest stories, after all, are often the ones happening right under our noses.
Thrills, Spills, and just a dash of Romance 