#in other words its surrounded by other castles and mansions that are more famous and easier to get to
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Top 10 Rajasthan Villages That Reflect Culture and Heritage
Top 10 Rajasthan Villages That Reflect Culture and Heritage
Rajasthan, the land of the Royals, is well-known for more than just its spectacular architecture, history, and culture. There are other small and charming villages in Rajasthan that are known to draw a lot of tourists and travellers in addition to the well-known tourist destinations like Jaipur, Jaisalmer, and Ranthambore. Visit the villages first if you really want to get a sense of a place.
Rajasthan's villages have a rich history and some of the top tourist attractions. In Rajasthan, you can get delicious food, much of which comes from rural areas. Additionally, there are many additional cultural experiences connected to art, dance, and other legacies that can be had when visiting the villages. Rajasthan is renowned for its spectacular puppet performances and traditions.
Top 10 Villages in Rajasthan
Rajasthan's rural areas are incredibly dynamic. It's a pretty unique and lovely scene here. The Indian state of Rajasthan has a lot of villages that you really must visit while travelling there.
Bishnoi Village – Must-Visit For Animal Lovers
Bijaipur Village – An Offbeat And Untouched Village
Mandawa Village – Boasts Of Rich Heritage And Culture
Khimsar Village – Catch A Glimpse Of The Sand Dunes
Chandelao Village – A Serene Village
·Khuri Village – Famous For Its True Rural Beauty
Samode Village – An Ideal Getaway From Jaipur
Ranakpur Village – Popular For Its Jain Temples
Kumbhalgarh Village – Famous For Its Kumbhalgarh Fort
Kuchaman Village – Popular For Its Rich Culture
Bishnoi Village – Must-Visit For Animal Lovers
Bishnoi, a tranquil town in the gorgeous city of Jodhpur, is one of those places that tourists to Rajasthan simply must visit. This is a village that anyone interested in protecting animals and plants should visit. You may observe the feed being planted everywhere for cattle when you visit this village. You might be surprised to learn that this is one of the ways the locals keep their land from eroding.
Things to do in Bishnoi Village
1. You have to get block printing training while you're here.
2. Meet the potters and try your hand at producing pots.
3. Look out the wild animals that are free to roam around this settlement.
Suggest Tours: Rajasthan Tour Packages, Rajasthan Heritage Tour, Rajasthan Forts & Palaces Tour, Rajasthan Wildlife Tour
Bijaipur Village – An Offbeat And Untouched Village
You must visit Bijaipur village if you want to discover some of the undiscovered and unusual villages of Rajasthan. It is terrible that the majority of tourists skip visiting this charming community. It is impossible to adequately express the village's beauty in words because it is one of Rajasthan's most interesting villages.
The finest village to visit is this one because of its location. If you happen to pass a mansion on your route, you should be aware that the village headman is the owner of the opulent structure. This lovely village of Bijaipur is next to the well-known Chittorgarh fort.
Mandawa Village – Boasts Of Rich Heritage And Culture
Mandawa is the place to go if you want to see the best havelis and forts. This is one of the nicest village tours to take, and it's located in the lovely Shekavati region. You must visit the Mandawa village and take a tour if you love architecture and history.
The community is proud of its rich historical legacy and culture. The walls of the havelis and baolis both inside and out contain some of the best paintings. The majority of these were constructed by affluent merchants, and many still exist today.
You absolutely must visit the castle in Mandawa while you're here. Peacocks frequently visit the grounds in this location, and the window of the palace offers a breathtaking view of the surroundings. Every traveler's eye is drawn to the murals and marble fountain in this castle.
Khimsar Village – Catch A Glimpse Of The Sand Dunes
One of Rajasthan's most well-known settlements, Khimsar, is the place to go if you want to see the sand dunes at night. Khimsar hamlet, which sits just on the edge of the Thar Desert, is quite stunning. One of the nicest things you can do when visiting this place is to interact with the locals. One of the wonderful things you would get to observe when you are in this charming village is the warmth and affection that they exhibit to the visitors.
Things to do in Khimsar Village
Visit the Panchala Black Buck Reserve to see several blackbucks.
Visit the Nagaur fort and laud its magnificent architecture.
One of the top things to do while visiting Khimsar is to visit the Dhawa Doli Wildlife Sanctuary.
Best Time to Visit: November to February
Chandelao Village – A Serene Village
One of the peaceful villages in Rajasthan is this one. Without seeing the Chandelao Village, you would miss a lot if you returned home. This is one of the nicest villages to visit from Jodhpur if you're planning a day trip. The village's population is its best feature. This community, which has a population of just 2000, is a popular destination for many tourists.
Things to do in Chandelao Village
1. Your vacation can be one of the most memorable ones if you choose to stay at the luxurious and regal Chandelao Garh.
2. Visit an Ayurvedic massage facility if you want to take a peaceful vacation.
3. One of the things you should do when exploring this area is to visit the local markets.
Khuri Village – Famous For Its True Rural Beauty
Khuri Village ought to be high on your list if you're eager to experience authentic rural splendour. The village is well-known for its unspoiled beauty as well as the fact that it is one of the largest in the region. Additionally, it is well-known for its lively celebrations like camel races and camel polo. You can stay among the locals in one of the covered straw-and-mud homes that are available. You may simply find one of the camels and ride it to get to the settlement from here.
Things to do in Khuri Village
staying in a mud home with locals.
participating in nighttime activities like singing and dancing with the locals.
Visit the village's neighbouring Desert National Park.
Best Time to Visit: October and March
Samode Village – An Ideal Getaway From Jaipur
Samode Village, which is about 40 kilometres from Jaipur, is the perfect escape location. The Samode Palace is the village's main draw, in addition to the residents' friendliness and warmth and their straightforward way of life. It is a historical landmark in Samode and one of the places you really must see while you're here. The palace's outside designs are quite stunning, and its walls and roof have lovely painted surfaces. Don't forget to talk to the locals; they'll share some fascinating tales with you.
Things to do in Samode Village
Interact with locals and hear interesting stories.
Visit the famous Samode Palace.
Take a camel ride and explore the village fully.
Must Read; Cheap Places To Visit In India For A Budget Friendly Trip
Ranakpur Village – Popular For Its Jain Temples
Tourists frequently visit Ranakpur Village. Do not miss the renowned Jain Temples if you ever have the chance to visit this lovely village. The primary idols in these temples are those of Mahavira. One of the most important shrines is Chaumukha Temple. Along the same journey, you may also see the Sun Temple and the Amba Mata Temple. The village itself is charming, with walls adorned with incredible paintings of elephants, peacocks, and people.
Things to do in Ranakpur Village
Visit the famous Jain temples
Stroll through the beautiful streets and interact with the locals
Best Time to Go: The best season of the year to travel to Ranakpur Village is between the months of October and February
Kumbhalgarh Village – Famous For Its Kumbhalgarh Fort
Another well-known village in Rajasthan is Kumbhalgarh. The Kumbhalgarh Fort, which is situated in the middle of the village, is what makes it famous. The fort is very significant because it was constructed in a way that made it challenging for adversaries to enter. The village is admired for its stunning castles, picturesque villages, and way of life in the countryside.
Things to do in Ranakpur Village
Visit the famous Kumbhalgarh Fort
Interact with the locals and learn about their lifestyle
Best Time to Go: The best season of the year to travel to Kumbhalgarh Village is between the months of October and February
Kuchaman Village – Popular For Its Rich Culture
One of the villages in Rajasthan that history enthusiasts must visit is Kuchaman Village, which is renowned for its rich culture and history. Here, you'll see some of the most amazing engineering and architecture. The Meera Mahal, Lok Dev Temple, China Pole, and Kuchaman castle are a few of the villages must-see attractions.
Things to do in Kuchaman Village
Discover the fascinating history and culture.
Visit locations like Lok Dev Temple and Kuchaman Fortress, among others.
Must Read: Must Visit Attraction On Your India Golden Triangle Tour
#village food#village#village tourism#rajasthan Village#Rajasthan village tour#RajasthanTour Packages#Rajasthan Tour#Rajasthan Tours#Rajasthan Tour TRavels#rurals Rajasthan Tour#Rajasthan village life#village life Style
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Verboten 16 | (T)
ff.net | AO3
Fandom: Danny Phantom (DP)
Summary: AU. When Danny was five years old, he went missing for 2 weeks. In the years that follow, his family tried to make sense of what happened, only for the truth to be discovered years later.
Warnings: rated T for violence, mentions of death, language. Be prepared for some very weird things
Parings: Danny/Sam
Notes: originally uploaded to Ff.net. Cross-posted to AO3 and tumblr. This fic is very heavily inspired by folklore surrounding mysterious wilderness disappearances
Chapter 16
As Danny waited outside with the rest of the guests, his parents and Vlad met up with him. After they handed him a bag filled with one of his favorite Nasty Burger meals, he gave them a quick rundown of what he knew, save for the appearance of the ghost. While frustrated, his parents shuffled him into the RV so he could eat and warm up a bit. It was a chilly fall day after all.
As he ate, Danny vaguely wondered how his parents managed to convince Vlad, the man with the limo, to go across town with them. His dad’s driving prowess… well, lack thereof… was famous in the area. The townsfolk and even the police steered clear of any known Fenton vehicle. In actuality, he had no idea how his dad hadn’t lost his license.
After a couple hours, the fire department cleared the building with the exception that rooms on the second floor could not be used until the police preformed an investigation to verify whether or not arson occurred. The rooms on that floor would also need cleaned. Thankfully, little damage ended up being done from the fire: a few pieces of furniture and some scorch marks. The majority of the damage ended up being from the hotel’s sprinkler system.
After collecting their items, his parents drove to a large house on the outskirts of the housing plan where Sam lived. After asking what they were doing there, Vlad matter-of-factly stated he just finalized the payment on it. Danny’s utter confusion had to be evident as his parents explained Vlad recently decided to purchase a house in Amity Park since he would be around more to help with the research.
Well, it explained why it took his parents so long to get food. While the act itself didn’t seem that strange for Vlad, he did own a castle in Wisconsin after all, something about the timing bothered him. With the rare exception of a day when there was a major experiment malfunction, Vlad tended to stay with the family upon his visits. Exactly how long would he be in town if he needed to buy a new house?
After getting a quick tour of the house, Danny retired to his temporary room and called his friends. The three way call ended up being hectic as he explained what happened. “Guys, I’m telling you, I saw a ghost, and then somehow the hotel caught fire.”
“Calm down, Danny,” Sam instructed. “I know you’re telling the truth, but geez, how in the world did you end up being the center of so much trouble in two days?”
“My mom said something about me possibly attracting paranormal things now.”
“Makes sense, in a weird sort of way,” Tucker agreed as typing could be heard on his end. “I’ll see if I can dig up any stories of ghosts like what you saw this time.”
“Don’t worry about it, Tucker. You’re already looking into those files.”
“Nah, this’ll be easy. It’ll only take a couple minutes at most to set up a search and have it run in the background while we talk. Any specific things that stood out?”
“Other than the blue flaming hair?” He sighed and collapsed on his bed. “If she hadn’t been a ghost, she would have looked right at home in one of those bands Sam likes. She said she wanted to make people remember she still exists.”
“So she looked like a goth?” Sam questioned.
“Yeah, but with some, uh… I think you’d say she’s more punk.”
“Woah! That’s weird,” Tucker stated after something on one of his tech devices beeped in the background. “So, apparently there have been a series of spontaneous fires that seem to occur about every ten years, but they started after the death of a local girl. Some people think it’s her ghost that causes them. I’ll send you the articles.”
It took only seconds for the article links to be sent. Danny nearly dropped the phone when the picture of the mentioned girl appeared on the screen. With the exception of the hair, the girl’s face matched that of the ghost. “That… that’s her! Wow, she really doesn’t look that much different as a ghost.”
“Wait, you’re serious?” Sam hummed as she reviewed the information. “Says here while she was unpopular at school, she was in a local band. She was found dead after her house burned down mysteriously. The police thought it might of been an arson, but officials were never able to verify anything. After her death and around its anniversary, there were reports of fires in the city. Sometimes, entire buildings are engulfed, but other times the words ‘you will remember’ appear burned into buildings.”
“I kinda remember hearing my dad mention something about ghost fires growing up, but with it being my dad, I never put any stock into it.”
“My mom said something about it once.”
“I have no idea why I keep forgetting your mom works for 911,” Sam interrupted. “You know, we might be able to use that to our advantage.”
“I mean, you can try, but she refuses to talk about anything other than the occasional funny call. The one about the ‘bambulance’ still brings me to tears.”
“Tuck, you’re getting distracted.”
“Right. Anyways,” some typing could be heard on Tucker’s end, “my mom thought the fires were from the girl’s bandmates. They had just recorded a song called ‘Remember’ which got some local play before she died. Since I know asking Mom for anything else is pointless, I think I’m gonna see if I can get into the files of those fires. The news articles all have explanations, but some of them seem a bit over the top.”
“How long will that take?”
Danny snorted. “Sam, it’s Tucker. Knowing him, he’s already looking at them.”
“I’m hurt, Sam. Do you really have that little faith in me?”
“I know you’ll be able to get them eventually. You’re track record hasn’t been all that great recently. You’ll still working on those files you got from Plasmius, after all.”
“Oh, I’ve finished the review on those. Some of it isn’t pretty, but I wanted to verify information directly from Vlad Master’s companies. That’s been slow going ‘cause he has some impressive firewalls, and I’m really trying not to get caught. As for this,” Tucker briefly shouted in triumph, “I’ve already gotten what I need. Hmm… that’s weird. The official investigations regarding the ‘Ember fires’, as they’re called, all state there was no known cause of the fire. There wasn’t even evidence of an accelerant… which is…?”
“It’s something used to make a fire go from a few flames to a roaring fire. Think of what happens when you add gasoline to a fire,” Sam explained as tapping could be heard on her end. Was she at the computer too? “Most arsonists use one. If they don’t, unless the flames start where there’s something like tissue paper, sawdust, or something else really flammable, the fire usually takes a lot of time to grow and become a problem. Tuck, is there anything about flammable materials?”
“Hmm… no, not really.”
Danny sighed as he got off the bed and paced his temporary room. “Great, now there’s a fire starting ghost on the prowl, on top of Plasmius, that thing… and possibly whatever is wrong with that girl. Tuck, do you have any updates on anything?”
“On the Plasmius front, no. Like I said, I’m trying to cross-reference those files against the files from VladCo and DALV, but that’s taking a while due to his security. For the creepy thing that attacked you, I have a notification set up for any potentially related attacks. I think that’s all I can do for now on that… As for Maura, I got distracted a bit when Plasmius had that chat with you, but I can tell you she stopped posting on social media right after her disappearing act. That’s pretty weird for girls in her clique. Give me a couple days to get her medical chart.” Something beeped in the background. “Oh, it looks like I might have a pattern for our fire bug ghost.”
“At least that’s something. Can you send them to me?”
Sam snorted. “What, you’re gonna try to figure out where she’ll be and talk to her?”
“I mean, it’s worth a shot. Maybe she knows something about Plasmius or that thing? And… maybe I can nicely ask her to stop lighting fires?”
“I think you’re just gonna end up with your ass kicked, but go ahead.”
“Thanks for that wonderful vote of confidence,” Danny deadpanned. The ghost was nice enough to give him a warning so she couldn’t be all bad. “I think if I open up with a ‘thank you’, she won’t outright attack me.”
“It’s your funeral.”
“Actually, Danny, can you die?” Tucker hesitantly asked. “I mean… your situation is kinda weird.”
He thought about it for a few moments. “I think so. Clockwork told me I’m alive, so that’s good enough for me. But, to be honest, I don’t really wanna think about it too much.”
“That’s fair.”
…
Danny’s conversation only lasted a few more minutes after Tucker asked the awkward question as his parents called for him over an intercom system. Uncertain if the correct response to the intercom should be to cringe or be impressed, he pushed it from his mind as he meandered down the hallways to attempt to find his parents.
Something about the décor of the mansion seemed familiar, but Danny found it difficult to place it. Vlad loved the Green Bay Packers, and he commonly used their colors of green and gold for accents. He stopped in his tracks as he glanced around. Plasmius also had green and gold splashes in his home. It had to be a coincidence.
Not wanting to think about it more, he raced down the halls and eventually came to the main foyer. His dad shot him a questioning glance as his mother stood and moved towards him.
“Hi, sweetie! How are you adjusting? It’s been a hectic couple days.”
“I’m okay. I’m just a bit tired,” he told her as he dodged a hug. “I let Sam and Tucker know we’re fine. I’m not dealing with Jazz until after you guys talk to her.”
“I trust the room is to your liking?”
Danny jumped as Vlad’s voice came from behind him. How did he miss him? “Yes. Thanks for letting us stay.”
Vlad waved his hand dismissively. “It’s no trouble at all. My house is yours.”
“Vlad, you mentioned you had a workshop we can use?” His mother asked as she abandoned her attempts at hugging her son.
After staring at her for a second, Vlad shook his head and regained composure. “Surely that can wait until tomorrow, my dear. You’ve been through quite a lot in the past twenty-four hours.”
“No can do, Vladdy!” Jack boomed as he excitedly stood. “You heard those policemen. They want a Fenton product, and I can’t sit still when that spook is still a threat to my family. Say, do you want to help?”
The billionaire grimaced before forcing a smile. “I must politely decline, but I will gladly look over any blue prints in the morning.”
“Don’t worry,” Maddie told him while giving her husband a fond grin, “I know how… enthusiastic Jack can be when he has a new project. I’ll also make sure he sleeps tonight. We don’t want any accidents.”
“That would be greatly appreciated.”
Danny glanced between Vlad and his parents. There was some sort of story he was missing. “Should I ask?” he hesitantly questioned.
“I was badly injured when we were in collage when an experiment went wrong,” Vlad explained as his expression hardened. “As a result, I’ve made it a rule to not be in a room when someone is actively making experimental items or preforming experiments. However, I’ll gladly double check procedures, blue prints, set ups, and results.”
“I… yeah… That… that makes sense. But you’re okay now?”
“Absolutely, my dear boy. You could say I gained a different outlook on life as a result.” Vlad gave a predatory grin which sent shivers down Danny’s spine. “Why, if I hadn’t gotten into that accident, I probably wouldn’t have ended up so successful.”
“Right…” His mother must have caught something off in Vlad’s tone as she furrowed her brow in confusion. “It’s gotten pretty late. Danny, will you be alright?”
“Huh? Probably. I mean, I could use a snack.”
“The kitchen and pantry are just down that hall.” Vlad pointed towards the hallway opposite of the way Danny originally came. “Will you be alright to be back to your room once you’re done? If you wait, I can escort you back once I’m done showing your parents where the lab is.”
“Thanks, but I think I’ll be alright. ‘Night everyone.” Chuckling as his father couldn’t contain his excitement anymore and bounded down the hall followed by his amused mother and wary Vlad, he just made his way to the kitchen. It thankfully was easy to find, and after making a sandwich, he meandered his way back towards his room.
….
Around midnight, Danny decided he would attempt to sneak out of the mansion. Luckily for him, Vlad put him in a room on the ground floor, saying something about how the upper floors weren’t ready yet. Luckier still, there were no bars on the windows. Sam’s parents tried doing something like before due to how many times she snuck out, but it was struck down by her Grandma Ida, who still had control of the deed at that time.
Escape ended up being a piece of cake. There didn’t seem to be any type of security system or guard which seemed strange, but that would probably change once the mansion was officially finished.
He had an idea of where the ghost might end up appearing thanks to the articles Tucker forwarded to him earlier so he booked it in the direction of an older housing plan near the city’s boarder with Elmerton. The majority of buildings in the area were row houses in disrepair. While there were still a few low income families in the area, most of the houses were considered condemned. Danny remembered hearing talk of tearing the houses down at one point, but either the project was shelved or abandoned.
As he approached, he decided to shift to his ghostly form. While it seemed unlikely he would encounter anyone, the area did have a reputation for crime. While he didn’t know what sort of protection being a ghost would give him, it seemed a better option. And, if that thing tried attacking him again, maybe he could float to safety. He really hoped that thing didn’t appear; his trust in his abilities honestly was non-existent.
The soft glow of his ghost form provided the majority of the light as he silently found his way to the road where the girl used to live. The few street lamps were either broken or burnt out, and some even seemed melted.
His destination, Garnier Avenue, seemed worse than the surrounding streets. At first he thought the houses were just gutted, but a second look said otherwise. Most of them had some evidence of fire: melted windows, ash marks, and collapsed roofs and walls. Ash and dust could be found on the road as well as the sidewalk, and in some places, they almost looked like outlines of people.
The area seemed dead. No noise. No sound. No movement. As he continued to move forward, his hair stood on end and his breath misted in front of him. It was almost as if he walked into some sort of wall of static electricity.
“So this is what you actually look like. You’re not that bad looking after all,” a curious voice called to him, making him jump. Danny spun around to see the ghost from earlier materialize in front of him. Her appearance hadn’t changed, but she seemed more solid. Even her voice seemed closer and more natural. “Do you know how many of us would kill to be able to blend in that well?”
“Uh… I really wouldn’t know. This is really new to me,” Danny relied as he held up his hands in what he hoped was a submissive manner.
Her eyes narrowed. “So why are you here, baby pop? Do I interest you?”
He gulped at the undertones of her applications. “A little? I mean, you were nice enough to let me there would be a fire, and I wanted to thank you for that. And maybe ask a couple questions?”
“You just happened to be there at the right time,” she responded offhandedly though her satisfied smirk suggested his thanks was welcome. “It would be a waste to see someone like you get destroyed by accident. But, I would like to know how you found me.”
“I mentioned you to a friend of mine, and he was able to find out about your legend.” Danny hoped he sounded genuinely curious and not creepy. Wait, was it possible for him to not be creepy? He was a ghost after all.
She nodded. “I like to come back around the anniversary of my death. It helps strengthen me.”
“You do seem… I think stronger is the word I want.”
“Glad you noticed, and that makes you more observant than most of the guys I’ve met over the years. Call me, Ember.” Grinning again, she walked around him almost as if she was examining him.
“I’m Danny.”
She snorted. “Bet that’s your real name. Don’t met too many ghosts who remember theirs. You really must be new. Anyways, you had questions?”
“Yeah. I was hoping you might know something about this thing that’s been seen around the town. It attacked me, and it’s caused enough trouble to get the police interested.” When she didn’t immediately respond, Danny took that as a sign he could continue. So, he quickly explained his interaction with whatever the thing was. When he finished, Ember expression turned stony.
“You’re telling me something like that has been seen in my town?” she demanded. Her hair, which had been gently waving in an invisible wind, suddenly blazed in a blue flame. “Are you telling me one of those things have been seen here?”
Danny gulped and nodded. “Like I said, it attacked me! What are they? Plasmius doesn’t know what they are either.”
“Plasmius? Plasmius is here too?” The temperature around them spiked as she shrieked. “Are you working for him? You better answer me, Dipstick.”
===
Notes: ghostly fire is usually considered insubstantial and doesn't tend to cause damage. Actual paranormal fire damage is usually associated with poltergeists, and more modern theories classify poltergeists as creations of psychokinesis (PK) agents (normally living people) instead of spirits.
Ember's background is directly taken from information provided by one of the show's directors.
"Bambalance" is a reference to an old but hilarious 911 call. You can find it on YouTube under the title "the guy, the deer, the dog, and the bambulance." There is some foul language in it.
Also, there is a very subtle 'Phantom of the Opera' reference in this chapter.
#Verboten#danny phantom#danny phantom au#dp#dp au#my writing#fanfic#fanfiction#danny phantom fanfiction#alternative universe#danny fenton#sam manson#tucker foley#vlad plasmius#jack fenton#maddie fenton#paranormal#fantasy#ember mclain#folklore#so i heard you like folklore#sooooooooo much folklore
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The Painter’s Masterpiece
Today is a fine spring day to celebrate a new beginning of life and a woman named Violet Evergarden blissfully watched the swaying leaves of the Bougainvillea trees that is located in the southern part of Leidenschaftlich.
The people who caught sight of her cannot help but admire the smiling figure of Violet. It is true that her charm increases every time she let out a warm smile. The cold beauty of hers resonated to that of a blooming spring and it was an art to be reckoned with.
One of the passerby who caught sight of her is a well renowned painter, an artist who is currently looking for an inspiration. His name is Artemis Bluemenville, a young man who is a little bit older than Violet. His eyes. He watched her with a great deal of admiration, cheeks that is dyed in red, and heart that seems to be malfunctioning.
Artemis knew who she was. No, more like most of them knew who she truly is. Violet Evergarden is a famous Auto-Memories Doll, not just in Leidenschaftlich, but also in various continent. She is a demanded celebrity who was able to touch an save the hearts of many.
And the inspiration that Artemis is looking for is right in front of him. He was feeling depressed recently because that previous art that he created lack brightness and vividness. Even if it was created beautifully, that painting still doesn't satisfy him. All because...It lacks meaning and dedication.
Artemis gathered some air and breathe heavily before he courageously went to where she is.
"Miss Violet Evergarden? May I talk to you for awhile?"
Although he is quite nervous and excited at the same time, he cannot let it ruin his delicacy. He was raised as a polite man and the over enjoyment might tarnish his image.
Violet was puzzled for a moment.
"Is there anything I can do for you?" A voice that is so pure and soft echoed throughout his mind and touched his anxious soul.
He clenched his fist and teeth to calm his overly excited and nervous self.
"My name is Artemis Bluemenville. I am a painter and I would like you to be my model for my first masterpiece."
Although he created a lot of paintings, none of it gave him the feeling of satisfaction so he basically cannot call it a masterpiece.
"I..."
So here they are in the 'studio de Arte', showing off all his half hearted paintings. He had a hard time making her accept his offer and now, it feels like a dream come true for him.
"Your paintings are..." Violet paused and slowly spoke the next words, making Artemis a little bit sad. "...beyond wonderful."
"Ah, that's what everyone thinks too...but on the contrary, it lacked the essence of life.
Violet did not respond because she was completely nailed to a particular painting. Her eyes became dull and somewhat pained, as if she's trying to reminisce a distant past.
"Is there something wrong? Do you not like that painting?" He asked, quite troubled.
"My apologies. I didn't mean to put it that way. It's just that...I find it nostalgic for some reason."
"Is that so?"
"Yes." Violet once again stared at the painting.
The palette of the painting consists of blue, yellow, white, brown, and many more. It was a picture of a grand mansion in the middle of the flushy green trees and abundant field of flowers. The sea was just close by. The raging dark waves resonates to the brightness of the stars and moon.
"Can you tell me the story behind this painting?"
Artemis gave her a sad smile and nodded.
"I too, have no idea. Years ago, when I was still an amateur painter, I managed to discover a near impossible mansion in the middle of nowhere. It was actually a bazzare experience since I found it by accident. Despite its beautiful surrounding, this abandoned mansion gave me the feeling of chills and creeps. It felt eary and a bit sad but I end up painting it without releasing it to the public."
".....I see."
Is the only word she says while still eyeing that peculiar painting. Artemis suddenly remembered their conversation awhile ago.
(Flasback)
"I...cannot accept."
Thud! His hopes went down after hearing her answer. Artemis, the well known painter was rejected for the first time. But, he simply cannot give up and tried to persuade her one more time.
"May I know the reason why? If it's about the payment, I can pay you triple times. You'll become much much more popular than you are now. Please think about it." The way he sound is quite desperate but if he was asked to kneel, he will not hesitate to do it.
"I don't need the money nor the fame. You see, I simply wish to live a simple life...even if it is impossible for a person like me. I am also not someone to be bought with money." She stated at a matter of fact.
Her doll like features shows nothing but an expressionless look.
"Oh no! Please forgive my insolence. That is not my intention at all. My only wish is to create a masterpiece and you are the one who inspire me, Miss Violet." Gaze that held no lies and ill intention made her a little bit interested.
Silence...No one was talking, not even the noises of the surrounding cound change the awkward and tense atmosphere between the two.
"...Very well."
(Flashback Ends)
Violet Evergarden was obediently sitting in a comfortable chair. The golden hair was spread out like a thin thread of silk while she wears a pure white ruffled dress with a glint of sparkly gold. If one would look at her now, she will be immediately mistaken as a mythological goddess or a princess from a noble kingdom.
"Is that the reason why you declined?"
Artemis asked while looking at her prosthetic hand with a symphatetic eyes. Violet lift up both of her hands and gaze it with a sad smile.
"Yes. I am not as beautiful as you think, nor did I have a decent life, so I technically believed that I do not deserve to be asked such things."
"I...I am sorry for asking." He let his head down, unable to utter a single word. He wanted to say a more appropriate word of comfort but still unable to do so.
"You are not at fault so please do not apologize."
Artemis continued to draw and paint her. This is actually the first time where he enjoyed doing his passion. He retained Violet's elegance and purity; beauty that is too perfect and unbelievably out of this world. When he looked at those mysterious blue eyes, he felt like being swallowed up by a black hole.
Few hours later, he finally managed to patch things up. He was covered in various colors of acrylic paint and paid it no mind because he was too endulged with the overwhelming result. 'This is it! Finally!' Is what he thought while gleefully laughing.
"Thank you so much, Miss Violet Evergarden! I am indebted to you!"
In the end, Violet did not accept the money that Artemis gave her, even if he kept on telling her that he only wanted to give her a credit. He was a disheartened but a silly idea came into his mind.
"Please choose any of those paintings and I'll gladly give it to you. I cannot accept a NO answer." He said while he shamelessly took her artificial arms to his and clapped it together.
Artemis' persistence is endless so Violet had no choice but to pick one. He picked the nostalgic painting that she's been eyeing all the time. The one where she felt an undescribeable feeling and maybe it was something that has a unexplainable connection with her forgotten past.
Soon after, a grand gallery opening was held in the glorious city of Leiden. Many Aristocrats, Celebrities and Ordinary Civilians flock into the event. The security around the place is very tight. The military police wasn't alone to keep things in order. Some of the Leidenschaftlich army and navy were invited as well since the painter is the youngest son of the military prime minister.
Artemis Bluemenville, the genius painter of all time. Here, he revealed his very own first masterpiece, shocking the hell out of all people, particularly for those people who knew her and for those who are involved with her.
The woman in the largest painting is an outstanding embodiment of perfection and gorgeousness. The white dress that she wore made her more sophisticated and demure.
Artemis also revealed another painting and that alone made a lot of people fell in love with the loveliness of the woman more and more.
A woman who is usually wearing her doll like clothes stood in the middle of the pinkish red bougainvillea trees, smiling blushingly while holding an emerald brooch in her chest. That sight alone makes it more bewitchingly beautiful. Everyone could really felt the simplicity and the happiness of the woman.
There is actually a particular man who can't keep his beating heart in check and that is no other than Gilbert Bougainvillea, an Army Colonel. He is also the lover of the woman who is being admired in the painting.
This is the magical painting of Artemis Bluemenville. It was Violet Evergarden who inspired him the most. She was also the sole reason why he is finally determined to do his very best.
Meanwhile, a golden haired woman was seen around the Fluegel Castle. She looked back, stared at the bluish sky and smiled.
"It was a nice day."
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The King of Omashu
Long ago,
merchants of the four nations lived together in harmony.
Then, everything changed when the Avatar came back.
Only the authorities and the might of the Fire Nation could stop him;
but when my cabbages needed them most, they vanished.
The fate of many cabbage carts came to pass as a bald,
arrow-headed boy discovered them. His name was Avatar Aang.
And although his airbending skills were great,
he had a lot to learn at the cost of my business.
But I believe that Aang changed the world.
CHAPTER 1:
“Curse this road,” the graying man muttered under his breath. He had stopped and was leaning against his cart, hunched over to catch his breath. Though the road itself was flat, it extended for what seemed like miles in front of him, teasing the welcome sight of his destination. The man was getting somewhat up in age, and a trek like this took a lot out of him. But when he thought of what profit lay ahead in Omashu, all notion of exhaustion faded. He wiped his brow with the sleeve of his shirt, which was ragged from travel, and tucked a tuft of peppered hair into his cap. After patting a head of cabbage near the top of the pile, he straightened, and, grabbing the handles of his wooden cart, made the rest of the journey to Omashu.
He stood on the road having finally made it to the end, and glanced off to either side at the deadly drop to the rock face below. Before him stood the walls to the city Omashu, large slabs of dusty, reddish rock that would only be opened by the earthbending guards that stood up ahead. Unluckily for him, they were scowling. He walked toward them cautiously, leaving his cart behind.
“State your purpose in Omashu.” The guard who had spoken stepped forward, a scowl still in place and eyes piercing.
“I’ve come to sell produce,” the man replied lightly. “I sell cabbages.” He then made a motion to his cart behind him.
“Ah, a cabbage merchant. I see.” The guard paused for a moment, his expression unchanging as he glanced over the merchant’s shoulder at the cart. The man shifted, uncomfortable in the silence and wondered if this was commonplace procedure. He’d never traveled to Omashu before, but no vendor or trader he’d talked to had mentioned any kind of trouble getting in. “All right then, cabbage merchant,” the guard boomed, startling him. “Let’s see them.”
“See…”
“The cabbages, old man.”
“Oh, yes! Of course.” He turned quickly and shuffled back to his cart. Just as he made his way around its corner and grabbed onto the wooden peg handles, he glanced up on a whim and caught the eye of an approaching stranger.
The man was odd looking to say the least. He had a stack of white hair sitting atop his head and a taut band wound around the width of his forehead, which seemed to hold his crudely cut, bang-like, fringe in place. He had a mustache to match and used a smooth, thin walking stick. Despite the fact that his feet were bare, he hobbled forward at a much faster pace than was believable for a man as old as he appeared. Two kids followed behind him, clearly related by looks alone, wearing clothes much too heavy for the Earth Kingdom heat. It was hard to say where they were from, but it was plain to see they were well traveled like him as their clothes were covered in dust and what looked like animal fur. What an odd trio they made.
“Cabbage man,” the first guard barked, snapping him back to the present, “hurry up!”
He hoisted up the back of his cart and wheeled it over to the guards. He took care to set the back down gently so he wouldn’t disturb his cabbage pyramid, and then turned to face the men. “My cabbages are the finest you’ll find in all of the Earth Kingdom,” he proudly presented. “These were grown from my family’s farm. My wife and son worked hard on this season's harvest! Because of them, these are the freshest, most vibrant cabbages you’ll ever—”
“Fresh, huh? Are you sure?”
“What do you mean?” the merchant responded quizzically. He watched as the guard reached down and took a head of cabbage in his hands.
“I’m sure you’ve heard that recently there’s been an outbreak of cabbage slugs among farmers all over the Earth Kingdom.” The guard rolled the head over in his hands, examining it halfheartedly.
“Yes...”
“Then how can you be so sure your cabbages are fresh?” The guard met the man's eyes and held his gaze for a long time. The head of cabbage had stopped moving and was now gripped in the young man's meaty fingers.
“I...I checked them all myself. They’re clean, I swear.” But the guard just held his gaze and gripped the green head harder.
“And why should I take your word for it?”
“Please. They’re clean, I swear,” the merchant pleaded with him. “Just let me pass. I need to sell in Omashu for my family—”
“You think anyone wants your rotten cabbage? What kind of slum do you think this is?” the guard exclaimed hotly. Then without another word he crushed the cabbage in his hand and stomped a foot to the ground. The older man gasped as the ground tilted beneath the wooden wheels of his stand, and when the guard pushed his arms out to one side, his produce cart was suddenly flung through the air, having been catapulted by a ramp that was now coming out of the earth. He watched, mouth hanging open in horror as his cart dived over the edge of the road to the cliff face below.
“No! My cabbages!” he screamed, running to peer over the edge. But it was no use. They bounced and scattered and broke apart, the leaves cascading to the bottom far below. He turned back to the gates, heartbroken for his lost vegetables, and saw that the first guard was no longer interested in him. The three strangers from earlier had finally made their way up to the gate and seemed to pause with an air of uncertainty before the first guard. He wished them luck with that man's foul mood and stood from the edge brushing himself off.
“You’re free to enter,” spoke another guard. This one seemed ashamed for the other’s actions and spoke with a gentle tone. “Welcome to Omashu.”
The merchant walked forward, hair seeming even more gray than before as if having been aged by the experience, and continued forward slumped under the weight of his recent tragedy. He nodded at the nicer guard as he passed through the first of three gates, and gave a last glance back before entering completely. He found himself catching a snippet of the conversation between the white-haired, old man and the guard.
“Settle down, old timer,” the guard waved him off, seeming a bit startled to say the least. “Just tell me who you are.”
“Names Bonzu...Pipinpadaloxicopolis...the Third,” the white-haired geezer was saying. “And these are my grandkids.”
“Hi, June Pipinpadaloxicopolis,” the girl said, stepping forward. The other boy, or rather grandson, stood back looking puzzled.
The gates closed behind the cabbage merchant before he could hear the rest. But he was sure now, after seeing them up close, that the geezer wasn’t an old man afterall, but a young boy wearing a comically bad wig. He was sure that if he couldn’t get his cabbages into the city, their disguise wouldn’t fool anyone.
“Hmph,” he muttered as his mind began to wander back to thoughts of cabbages. “What an odd trio, indeed.”
CHAPTER 2:
The cabbage merchant found himself in quite the predicament. He’d finally made it to Omashu, but, with his produce stand being somewhere at the bottom of the canyon that surrounded the city and his beautiful cabbage heads along with it, he found himself with nothing to sell nor anything to sell from. He felt for his coin purse tucked away in the deep pockets of his tattered canvas pants and fished it out. With only a half-baked plan in mind that had something to do with haggling down the price of a new cart, and maybe selling cantaloupe—that was where the money was at anyway—he started down the first of many winding, aisle-like streets of the city.
Omashu was built to look like a swirling pyramid. With the streets ascending through the markets, to modest family homes, and then the areas with wealthier mansions, until finally ending up at the very tippy top in the King's castle. King Bumi, the leader of Omashu and possibly the greatest earthbender of the time, was said to be an eccentric. He was known for his fondness of bad jokes, and otherwise batty appearance. People who’d seen him said one of his eyes stayed permanently closed and other wide open, which was rumored to be for no other reason than because he liked the asymmetrical look of it. Yet, regardless of the rumors, King Bumi seemed sound of mind enough that, despite the city’s overall look, it was impeccably organized and functional.
The city was sectioned off into parts by giant sandy walls, the same rock as the rest of Omashu, that kept designated living and consumer areas separate. To an uninformed newcomer, this would make the city appear maze-like and confusing. But to anyone knowledgeable about Omashu’s most famous and arguably most important item for organized city-life, navigating was a breeze. And of course the cabbage merchant, having studied up on the city in preparation to sell there, belonged to the latter.
The man turned slowly in place, searching for something to clue him in. There! His eyes latched onto a couple crates of fruit being hauled into something that resembled a large, rectangular hamper made of earth. Or maybe more like a stone wagon without wheels. The wagon sat on an elevated chute, and when the men finished loading it they thrust their hands to the side and it shot along a path and high above their heads. When it reached the top it teetered between returning from where it came, and following the decline of the chute, but gravity won out. The wagon slid down the narrow pathway toward a more central location in the city and the cabbage man, taking that as his cue, kept his eyes up and trained on the moving fruit crates as he followed the crisscrossing map of the Omashu delivery system overhead. He would allow the speeding produce to guide him to a market hub.
He heard the cries of hawkers and peddlers before he could even reach the market square. Men and women alike shouted to be heard over each other, all offering their trinkets or freshly farmed veggies and fruits for sale. He felt comfortable in a place like this. Almost like he was home.
“Okay!” And he clapped his hands together, the coin purse jingling between them, “it’s time to find another cart.”
He walked slowly, weaving his way between food stalls and street performers while keeping a watchful eye out. Soon after, he saw a woman with a cantaloupe stall and was sorely tempted, but the cart itself was so intricately carved it was clear it had been passed down for generations. He knew with the meager change in his purse he could never afford to buy a cart so beautiful let alone more than three of the perfectly ripe cantaloupes that sat within. So he sighed and continued on, slightly dejected.
Almost ten minutes later, he’d done just about a full lap and was still empty handed, when a booming voice captured his attention. He made his way to a part of the square he’d skipped over, following the voice and its beautiful words that promised love, and safety, and happiness. The cabbage merchant could almost picture the person to whom the words belonged cradling him in their arms, and feeling entirely at peace.
“Cabbages! Get those cabbages you crave! Cabbages a head, cabbages a bundle! Best cabbages in Omashu, get ‘em right here!”
The man who called out wasn’t quite what the cabbage merchant had expected, and definitely wasn’t his type. His clothes were a bit weathered and his inky black hair was covered with a thin layer of red dust. His skin bore a very distinct tan, the mark of a farmer, and he was young. Younger than the cabbage man by twenty-or-so years, in fact, and a child clung to his leg looking bored. Fantasies of being wrapped in the man's arms soon turned to fantasies of diving head first into an endless pool of cabbages.
“Cabbages?” The merchant asked as he approached.
“Yes, sir,” the younger man responded, his deep voice still a tad loud. “You interested?”
“Might be. How much for the whole cart?”
The younger man’s eyes widened, looking about ready to pop out of his head with a mixture of excitement and relief. Then he looked at the old merchant again. He looked to the coin purse still clutched in the wizened man's hands, and down to the dirty clothes he wore. “It’s not enough, gramps.” And the man sadly motioned for him to move along.
“Please,” said the cabbage merchant, the word sticking in his throat. He unlatched the purse and dumped the contents onto the man's cart before him. Two gold and a handful of bronze pieces scattered onto the wood. “The guards destroyed my cart outside the gates, I have no other way to make money.”
“Shame,” said the man as he looked down at the kid still latched to his leg. He wouldn’t meet the older man’s eyes.
“Please, from one cabbage seller to another.”
He looked up finally, but shook his head once more. “It’s not enough.”
In the following silence both kid and father watched as the old man nodded in understanding and began to scoop his money back into the purse. As he began to shuffle away the father looked down to his wide eyed kid and back up to the older man’s retreating back. He sighed. “Old man cabbage! Come, and bring your purse with you!”
CHAPTER 3:
Finally. Finally, there he stood with a new cabbage cart to call his own. At least, it would be his if he could sell all of the remaining inventory by the end of the day. The deal he’d made with the father, whose name he’d learned was Shangren, was simple enough, but proposed a challenge. He was to sell all of the cabbages in the cart so Shangren could spend the day with his wife and their kid, and at the end of the day his family would take the profit in exchange for their cart. He’d thought the deal was more than fair. In fact he’d thought it was naive of them to trust he would come back with their cart. Then again, no one ever suspected the elderly. Lucky for them, he was an honest old man and gratefully accepted their offer.
Now that he had the cart, he had to come up with a business plan. The cabbage merchant stroked the leafy, plant pile deep in thought and hoped to get some inspiration. He knew there was no way he’d sell all the produce before the day was up, so near to the gates. There were more people near the entrance to the city, sure, but they were cheap and thus prone to haggle. He’d have to make his way closer to the city’s center where the richer civilians lived, if he hoped to meet his end of the deal. Rich folks were more likely to buy in bulk.
Secure in his plan of action he palmed a head of cabbage and pressed it to his face. He rubbed it against his cheek and thanked all the gods—the cabbage one especially—for smiling down on him with good fortune. Then a great crash came from behind him.
He was almost knocked off his feet by the shudder from the delivery cart’s impact with the ground. And then he was almost knocked off his feet by the guards that pushed past him. They shoved him aside with excessive force only to surround the flattened vegetables and bits of wood that had once been his “almost” cabbage cart. “I must be cursed,” he moaned to himself as he clutched the cabbage still in his hands. An overwhelming sense of dread began to spread through his body. “I must be the most unlucky man in Omashu.”
Three kids sat among the debris. At the sight of them his fear turned to a blustering anger, which he unleashed onto them with his next words. “My cabbages! You’re gonna pay for this!” He recognized two of the kids as the supposed brother and sister from outside of Omashu earlier. But it wasn’t until the third kid’s milky-white wig fell to pieces, exposing a small white lemur sitting atop a boy’s bald, tattooed head, that he recognized him for who he was. Who he truly was. An airbender, and the last of his kind.
The Avatar raised his head sheepishly, his eyes portraying an innocence that could only come from the likes of a child, and spoke to the guards before him. “Two cabbages, please?”
CHAPTER 4:
The walk up to King Bumi’s castle felt almost longer than the journey to Omashu, and even longer still because it was so quiet that he had time for his own thoughts.The cabbage merchant flitted back and forth between feelings of anger at the three trouble makers, and sorrow for the loss of yet another cart. The occasional feeling of fear slipped in, now and again, when he thought of what would become of him when Shangren found out. But then his anger would return in full force. By the time their group had reached the castle and were standing before the King in the throne room, the cabbage merchant was chafed and not just because of the walk.
The King sat in his throne looking only somewhat like the exaggerated rumors that spread about him. One of his eyes seemed to stay in a permanent squint, giving him the look that he was constantly scheming. He was missing both an upper and lower tooth on opposing sides of his mouth, and hair stuck out like tufts of straw from various areas of his face. On his chin was a snowy beard, and bunches of hair under each ear made fuzzy sideburns. Two more tufts poked out of the side of his hat. If the old cabbage merchant had been calmer, he might’ve thought it was funny how the young Avatar had almost resembled the King with his wig.
A guard stepped forward. He stood between the merchant and the trio of kids, and when he began to speak, the lemur that was still wrapped around the Avatar’s smooth head jumped up, clearly startled.
“Your majesty,” he said in a tone that was measured and patient, “these juveniles were arrested for vandalism, traveling under false pretenses, and malicious destruction of cabbages.”
The old merchant sputtered in his anger, “Off with their heads! One for each head of cabbage—”
“Silence!” The guard cut him off with a sharp look and an ever sharper tongue. “Only the King can pass down judgement.”
The merchant bit his tongue and waited for his due justice. No King, no matter how crazy, would let something so serious as the destruction of his own city slide. Not to mention the poor cabbages.
“What is your judgement, sire,” the guard inquired, seeming slightly less patient than before.
The King took a slow, wheezy breath and finally spoke. “Throw them...a feast!”
The cabbage merchant nearly fainted from the heat of his white-hot rage.
Shortly afterwards, the three kids were escorted out of the room by guards, looking just as shocked as he felt. He stood there unsure if that had all really happened, and unsure of what he should do until the King began to make his way out of the throne room. The merchant stood to the side, allowing the crazy king to exit first before he made a move to find a way out of the castle himself. But, before the old king walked through the large double doors, he turned and with a glint in his eye tittered, “For your trouble.” King Bumi slid his bare, right foot along the ground before him, his left hand closely following the motion from behind. Across the room a mound of earth began to move toward him. It looked like a giant snake that was slithering right at the cabbage merchant, from under the ground. Once the head of the snake reached the cabbage man’s feet, the earth it was made from opened up and a stone wagon from the mail system revealed itself to him. The earth snake sunk back into the floor and the mail cart settled on the now flat surface.
He looked to the King confused. “What’s this?” The stone tub was filled with tied burlap sacks that looked suspiciously lumpy. The cabbage merchant worried if he should fear for his life.
“Cabbages, for your new cart,” King Bumi stated, turning away. “I’m afraid the cart itself isn’t ready yet, so I couldn’t surprise you with it right this minute. But if you can wait patiently, it will be done by the end of the day.”
The King gave a polite smile and looked at the merchant a long while. The cabbage man could only stare back in shock. It wasn’t until he found himself growing increasingly uncomfortable in the silence, that the old merchant realized the King was waiting for some kind of response from him.
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” he shot out, wanting to make up for his rudeness. The merchant was unused to acts of kindness. He’d become comfortable living in a world where each person was expected to take care of themselves, and no one else. And he, in the face of such a kind and thoughtful gesture, had momentarily forgotten his manners.
King Bumi smiled, amused and turned away as he began to make his way out of the room once again. “Enjoy your time in my city. That will be thanks enough.” He waved as he stepped into the hallway and called over his shoulder, “You can wait for the cart at the entrance. And don’t worry about paying Shangren back. I’ve made sure he and his family are taken care of as well.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” the merchant replied quickly this time. He watched as the King’s green robes fluttered behind him, out of sight when he realized something. “Your Majesty,” he called after him. He was sure the King could no longer hear him but he didn’t dare to leave the throne room without his new cabbages. “Your Majesty, wait! How do you know about Shangren?”
It was true what they said about the King, he was mad.
CHAPTER 5:
For the rest of that day, and almost the entire day after, he sold his cabbages in peace. He had developed a new habit of flinching each time he heard the delivery wagons whiz by in the chutes overhead, but soon found himself used to the sound and the city. When he’d told Shangren the story of what had happened over tea the night of his first day in Omashu, the younger man had laughed at the cabbage merchant’s misfortune and his own good fortune. But he stayed in a state of disbelief when the older man insisted he had come across the Avatar.
“No,” he persisted stubbornly, “the Avatar’s been gone a hundred years. There are no more airbenders. It must’ve been a trick.” The merchant had insisted it wasn’t, but the other man hadn’t wanted to hear it. They’d soon said their goodbyes and departed the tea shop.
Late the next evening, after a long day of selling, the cabbage merchant leaned against his cart to rest. He was on his way down toward the city gates, and he stood wiping the sweat off his brow. After a moment, he sidled a few steps further down the path ahead of his new cart, to take in the sights of the city. He had been thinking to himself that one day he would bring his son to see Omashu, when the sound of splintering wood and a crash from behind him, made the ground shudder. He peeked over his shoulder knowing what he’d see before his eyes could process what lay in the wreckage: smashed green leaves, and the sheepish, regretful looks of the crazy King Bumi himself, and the Avatar. The words flew out of his mouth in a shriek, echoing through the walls of the city and to the far east of the Earth Kingdom.
“My cabbages!” He was sure his cries could be heard all the way to the capitol.
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Lunatic Parade Sakamaki Prologue Translation
Yui : (I hope that everything is going to be okay)
??? : … Geez... What the hell is going on ?
Yui : (I can hear someone speaking...)
???2 : There's no way it happened by accident.
???3 : Then, perhaps Little Bitch is...
*Yui enters the living room and sees all the brothers
Place : Sakamaki house, living room
Yui : … Everyone...
(It looks like they're safe, I'm glad. I wonder if I was just otherthinking)
(… But...)
Ayato : Oh, speaking of the devil, here's breastless
Yui : Good morning, everyone. What are you doing all together here ?
Ayato : Holy shit...
I came here to distract myself from that weird dream I had...
And all I get is that we all got same dream...
Yui : Dream... ?
Reiji : That's right... A dream where a strange man asked us to confess
Kanato : Uuh... That was scary... Being told by a stranger to confess my sins... What was that guy ?
Yui : … !
Laito : That reaction... Did you have a similar dream, Little Bitch ?
Yui : Y-Yes... That's the case, actually
So I came here, feeling anxious. Don't tell me you too... ?
Shu : Sigh... I feel like something incredibly troublesome is going to happen...
Reiji : There's a possibilty it's already happening, though
Subaru : … Shit...
*Subaru punches a wall two times
Reiji : – Anyway. Do you have any ideas ?
Have you notice something strange besides this dream... ?
Yui : – Ah ! There was this card in my room
*Yui shows them the card
Reiji : … The sender is... the earl of Walter !?
Yui : Um... Is this “earl of Walter” one of your acquaintances ?
Reiji : No. However... There's not a single person in the Demon World who never heard of him
This includes us, vampires...
Because he's famous as a collector who collects stolen treasures
Yui : Stolen treasures... ?
Reiji : That's right. He's what you call a “phantom thief” in the Human World
Yui : A phantom thief !?
Reiji : Yes. He lives inside Bernstein castle, in the Demon World...
He collected dozens... no, hundred of stolen treasures so far
Some people gathered at his castle to get back those stolen treasures, but it seems to be too difficult for them
The earl seems to be proud he never gave back a single one of those treasures
– Well, in other words, he's an extremely troublesome person
Yui : I-I see
Reiji : … And there's a possibility that he robbed something important from us as well
Everyone, please check your surroundings
*some time passes
Yui : (Hmm... We looked all around the mansion but nothing seems to have been stolen)
Ayato : Geez... I dunno who's that “Holder” or “Filter” guy, but what the hell did he plan to do ?
Kanato : Isn't it just some poor prank ?
Laito : Maybe he came over for a bit because he was lonely in his castle all by himself
Yui : (I wonder...)
Subaru : Tch... It was just a coincidence that we had the same dream or something, after all
Shu : Anyway, good thing this story is already over. I'll go to sleep... Yawn...
Yui : (But I have a bad feeling about this. Something feels a bit off. I'm feeling weird...)
(I feel as if I forgot something important...)
Reiji : …
Yui : Reiji-san... ?
Reiji : You there. Did he really not steal anything important from you ?
Yui : Eh... ? N-No
There's no traces of things in my room that disappeared and I still have my rosary with me
Reiji : I see
– Then, did he steal something valuable from your body ?
Yui : M-My body ? There's no way he would steal something from my body
Reiji : Do you think so ?
Please put your hand on your chest and think carefully... No, please try to feel it
The most valuable thing for your body...
That's right... Try to feel whether or not your heart is beating
Yui : (… My heart...)
*Yui closes her eyes
Yui : …
….........
(… No way... T-That's...)
*Yui reopens her eyes
Yui : … I-It's not beating...
Ayato, Kanato, Laito, Shu and Subaru : … !?
Reiji : … So I was right. What he stole is your heart
Yui : Eeeeeh... !?
Ayato : Now that you say it, I can't smell breastless's blood. I can't believe it...
Yui : Wh... What's going on ? How did he... ?
(No, more importantly...)
W-Why am I still... ? I'm supposed to die if I lose my heart, right ?
Reiji : There's one thing I can think of
It must be because of a special ore from the Demon World called “Kleinod” which is embedded inside your body in place of your heart
Yui : Kleinod...
Reiji : Right now, you're in an extremely special state where you're neither a human nor a vampire
Besides... The kleinod won't last for a long time
We must get your heart back as soon as possible, or else...
– When the kleinod will reach its limit, you will either die or turn into a vampire
Yui : (N-No way...!)
I don't know when exactly the
kleinod will reach its limit.
Before it happens, I must get
my heart back from the earl of
Walter by any means.
So we decided to hurry and head to
Bernstein castle in the Demon World,
where the earl lives--
Place : Bernstein castle - Castle town suburbs
Laito : Hehe... The parade is very lively ♪ Since we're here, I want to enjoy the parade alone with you
Yui : Laito-kun...
Vampire woman A : – Hehe, the parade is especially exciting this year
Vampire woman B : Yes. I was so excited I couldn't sleep yesterday
Vampire woman C : I'm looking forward to the finale ~ !
Yui : (I might have enjoyed it if this incident didn't happen, but... There's nothing I can do now)
??? : Hm ? This is...
Yui : (The Mukamis...!)
Ayato : You bastards, why are you here !?
Kou : Howdy, Ayato-kun ♪ We came because we received an invitation
Subaru : An invitation ? You guys received one as well ?
Ruki : … You mean the Sakamaki family received an invitation as well... ?
Reiji : That's right
Laito : … It became somewhat noisy in no time, huh
Kanato : They can't help being so loud
Azusa : Kanato-san... This chilli pepper ice... Is it delicious ?
Yuma : Hey, Azusa, don't get yourself dizzy !
Shu : Sigh... It's already bad enough those annoying guys came
Yuma : Aaah !? What the hell is wrong with you !? We just happened to pass by here !
Kou : Nooow nooow, you should calm down Yuma-kun at least. It's this lovely parade's day
Azusa : That's right. But... Eve... You look pale... What's wrong... ?
Yui : … Well, um...
??? : So we got caught up into a silly incident after all. What's up ?
Yui : Shin-kun and Carla-san...
Shin : Well well... Something must have been arranged so we would all meet by chance
Carla : …
Reiji : Good grief... What kind of curse is...
It can't be helped. Because it's better to have many cooperators only this time
In fact--
*Reiji explains the situation to everyone
Carla : – I see. Losing this woman would be unfavorable to us, founders
Ruki : A temporary truce... It would be a wise decision at this stage
Shu : That's it. Sigh... I don't wanna stay with you at such a place. Bye
*The boys go their separate ways
Yui : (I can't stand still either. I will follow--)
Sakamaki prologue : End
#Diabolik Lovers#diabolik lovers translations#diabolik lovers lunatic parade#Komori Yui#sakamaki ayato#Sakamaki Kanato#sakamaki laito#sakamaki shu#sakamaki reiji#sakamaki subaru#Mukami Ruki#mukami kou#mukami yuma#mukami azusa#tsukinami carla#tsukinami shin#prologue
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Bretagne in winter.
By virtue of unexpected circumstances in the end of January I visited Bretagne (Brittany) in France. It was slightly warmer there than in Saint-Petersburg, where I was having a hard time with my fractured foot (which I got in South Africa a bit earlier) moving around the city’s icy streets on crutches. Breton winter rains were not that cold after all.
I spent more than a month in the town of Auray near the Golf of Morbihan, discovering the surroundings on sunny (and rainy) days and to the extent of my abilities. During five weeks my friend (native Breton) was showing me around and took me to lots of interesting places in the area. It will be hard to describe absolutely everything we saw, but I’m going to try to mention most of it and write a bit more about places that I particularly enjoyed.
Parts of Bretagne reminded me of that France which I know from black and white movies of the 60-s. At least winter Bretagne without herds of tourists seemed to be quite authentic. I felt almost home there. Instead of snow in Bretagne there is sea foam after strong ocean storms. Local people reminded me of my compatriots from Saint-Petersburg: they seemed to have same seriousness in their faces. It’s a bit sunnier in Bretagne than back home in Petersburg, although rains are very frequent and can persist for a week non stop. When it’s sunny everything around is almost too beautiful! Grey days are necessary to have in order to fully appreciate and enjoy the sun (even if it comes out only for a minute). In this article I’m sharing photos that were mostly taken on sunny days (just because I like bright colours) and on the coast (because of local peculiarity: it’s a lot sunnier by the ocean, and inland it’s grey and cloudy). I have to admit that choosing 19 photos from more than 400 was rather difficult. Yes, Bretagne definitely inspired me. In five weeks I lived a whole little life over there. I have always liked Europe (away from its big cities and touristy beaches), but I never knew what to say about it, that hasn’t been said yet. In fact now I’m not writing anything new about Bretagne, but rather sharing my impressions about this French province that I have enjoyed so much. Please do not consider this post informative.
Bretagne fascinates with its beautiful scenery: blue sky and lush green grass, leaning ancient churches, castles from fairy tales and mysterious family manors, stone houses, that are centuries old… Some details are: soft green moss on the stones, cobbled narrow streets, white lace curtains and sailboat models on windowsills in the houses and in the churches (there they have a special place – they are hanging from the ceiling).
The town of Auray in the south of Bretagne, where I have spent most of the time, stands on the river with the same name, which flows into the Golf of Morbihan. It’s a nice little town with a beautiful old port – Saint-Goustan, where I kept returning to take pictures in different weather and various times of the day (for the best sunlight). There are lots of amazing places around Auray, both on the coast and inland. I don’t think I can remember the names of all little chapels that we dropped in and the direction of all narrow winding side roads that we drove on. Right next to Auray there is a coastal town called Trinite-sur-Mer with huge marina and lots of yachts. On the way there we stopped on some beach near Saint-Philibert. Beaches in this part of France are deserted in the winter, which certainly was pleasing to the eyes (I have no idea yet how it all looks in the summer season). Especially I enjoyed a wide stretch of sand backed by dunes called Plage de Kerhillio near Erdeven. On a sunny day we visited the famous Carnac, where there is an enormous concentration of megaliths (4 thousand rocks). And when meteorologists promised a big storm we went to watch it on the peninsula of Quiberon. This was indeed something! Roaring waves crashing against high rocks, black clouds and lots of sea foam. Beach was covered in sea foam as if it was snow, and blowing wind was lifting it up and whirling around. I never saw anything like that before! Local Bretons with their kids in rubber boots and shaggy dogs also came over to watch the storm (it must have been the weekend). Around Quiberon and actually all along the coast in the area there are lots of beautiful mansions; most of them are closed for the winter, and in the summer Parisian owners come to spend their holidays over there. It’s a pity that all those houses are sold out to vacationers and are empty most of the time; it would be much better if locals would inhabit them year round and in the winter fireplaces would be crackling… Bretagne (Breizh in local language) is populated by people with character, who would gladly separate themselves from the rest of France with its problems (but it’s already a whole different story).
It’s great when you manage to be in the right place at the right time. For example, on one of the days we happened to be by the bridge over to Saint-Cado islet some minutes before the sunset. In front there were black rain clouds, and setting sun was lighting up the islet, the stone bridge that connects it to the mainland and the little house standing separately on the rock in the water (which was used in the past for breeding oysters). The view was stunning and the moment was perfect! Later I came back to that place a couple more times to take photos at sunset; it’s near Belz on the river Etel.
Not everything in southern Bretagne boasts the same beauty… And some places I had to visit for different reasons, other than taking pictures. The town of Lorient, which had been bombed to ashes by the Americans during the Second World War, unfortunately, wasn’t rebuilt beautifully… The highlight for me over there was the visit of Cite de la Voile Eric Tabarly where I saw the legendary Pen Duick-3 (one of the sailboats of the famous navigator). As a matter of fact we came to Lorient several times, because there, in it’s big hospital I finally got cured from the unknown African parasite which I brought in my stomach… I’m very happy about French medicine and thanking it now! I was not asked for any documentation, insurances or prepayment. There people were thinking first how to help and the question of payment seemed secondary. Charges were actually more than adequate. Just an example: 1.5 hour specialist’s consultation cost me 23 euro – this is a standard price for everyone, independent of citizenship. Something to think about.
Let’s change the topic… Now I’d like to write about food. I’m not going to list all the delights of French cuisine here, but will allow myself to say a couple words about Breton delicacies. Will start with… deserts! Sweets in Bretagne are all a bit salty… This province is famous for its salted butter, and they cook everything on it, including deserts. One of the main additions to sweets is caramel made with that same salted butter (caramel au beurre salé). Also there is a very heavy and filling layered butter cake (or something like it) called Kouign-amann. I don’t have to eat for a whole day after having one. Another lighter desert (which I now proudly bake regularly) is Far Breton (with prunes preferably soaked in rum). Bretagne is famous for its crepes from buckwheat flour (galettes de blé noir). Although French don’t eat buckwheat itself (at least it’s not a popular side dish there as it is in Russia). Bretons drink hearty apple cider with distinct taste and use those classic looking cups that I would drink my tea from. Also they have real kefir up there (lait ribot)! And now let’s talk about the most pleasant stuff – seafood. Bretagne has a vast variety of it. You can try it in a restaurant, buy it on any fish market or just put on your rubber boots, arm yourself with a bucket and a little shovel and go out to the beach in a low tide and pick up some delicacies for dinner. Oysters, clams, mussels, spider crabs, cuttlefish, rays – all of those I had a chance to try out, cook at home and even pick up myself at a low tide (Palourdes, to be exact)! The tastiest in my opinion are scallops Coquilles Saint-Jacques.
Back to Breton sights. The town of Vannes on a sunny day is another great place to visit: old city behind the walls looks like one big museum. Not too far from Gulf of Morbihan (just on the other side) there is a castle Сhâteau de Suscinio, which was open to public in February (most castles and manors are closed for the winter). This chateau looks much nicer from the outside, but it’s cold and empty inside. As I have already mentioned it’s usually sunnier on the coast, and as soon as you go inland it becomes cloudy and grey. In this article I do not post photos that were taken on our day trips inland, but I think it’s necessary to write about the places we went to over there. Just north east from Gulf of Morbihan there is a little cosy castle in the forest - Сhâteau de Trédion. Perhaps it was the castle that I liked the most in Bretagne. It’s located in a very picturesque and quiet place, next to the river and forest, and with no big roads near by. As far as I understood this chateau is inhabited and can’t be visited (it’s not a museum); in high season it’s partially rented out to luxury vacationers or weddings and its garden is open to visitors. We did not stop after seeing just two castles, of course, and continued driving inland in search of more adventures. We also passed by Сhâteau de Josselin and Сhâteau des Rohan in Pontivy (unfortunately both of them were closed for the winter). On one of the days we visited the famous village of Rochfort-en-Terre (not that long ago it was voted as the most scenic village in France). The day we went there was rather dull (dark grey and rainy), but the place is undeniably beautiful no matter what the weather is like. Everything in that village looks like in an old movie, and of course there is a little castle up on the hill (just as I imagined).
North west from the Gulf of Morbihan there is the department of Finistère. We drove around its southern part. The first town we stopped in was Pont-Aven. I have to admit that I was excited to visit it mostly because of the great movie that we had watched earlier, called “Les galettes de Pont-Aven” (1975). Those who enjoy 1970-s cinema would definitely appreciate this film. We went around the town and found (as it seemed to us) the places where the movie was filmed, and of course we tasted the famous cookies (the best were the ones made from buckwheat flour). Then we headed to Concarneau and for whatever reason I didn’t really like the place that much. The old town seemed a bit like a walled tourist park, something wasn’t right about it, not real (maybe it’s a good idea to come back there one day and give it another chance). The department’s capital – Quimper – on the contrary is an interesting town, with a bit of a different feel. Architecture of its old town, enormous Cathédrale St. Corentin and authentic (non touristic) liveliness of its streets stayed in my memory. In the fish market over there we got two fresh rays and sautéed them with capers, lemon and butter at home in the evening.
Adding a little bonus to Bretagne we also drove to see famous Mont Saint-Michel which is actually situated in Normandy. The road trip was interesting, but the day we picked was probably the coldest that could possibly happen in France. Strong wind was blowing, it was raining periodically, we did not expect to see any sun and the temperature was maybe just slightly above zero. And even in this kind of weather (and in February) there were still tons of tourists visiting Mont Saint-Michel. I liked the legendary fortress-island better from the outside (and from a distance). We also had some organizational inconveniences over there. Everybody has to park about 2.5 km away from the island and then ride a bus or walk over there (walking must be great in the summer) partially on a really long bridge open to all Norman winds. There were very few buses available for crowds of tourists, so we had to freeze a bit during our walk back to the car (it was my first long and serious walk without crutches and air-cast boot). So we got to see Mont Saint-Michel from all possible angles and distances. We drove home via the scenic towns of Cancale and Dinard (famous for their oysters and pretty immodest mansions along the coast). We also stopped for a day in Saint-Malo which, just like Lorient, was bombed to nothing during the Second World War, but was rebuilt nicely.
Lets once again come back to southern Bretagne, now to the actual Gulf of Morbihan. It consists of approximately 40 islands and islets, and some of them are inhabited. We took a boat to Île-aux-Moines. It’s just 10 minutes away, but once over there it seems that you are far from civilization. Atmosphere was relaxing in February: empty winding streets with old houses and a few local folks drinking their day away in a bar on a little plaza (in the summer there must be lots of tourists!). There are no cars on the island, people walk everywhere or ride bikes with small carts attached to them. This island is perfect for walking, there is a long scenic path winding along the coast. We had a lovely day there: sky was free of clouds, warm sun was reflecting in the still waters of the gulf, incredibly colourful and lush mimosas were blossoming everywhere and smelling of spring. I really wanted to stay there overnight, in peace and calm.
To be continued… In the summer I will write what is Bretagne like when the weather is warm there.
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History of Suffolk county’s architecture
The architecture of the county of Suffolk is a mix of colour and character, with timber-frame and flint, pargetting and thatched roofs, moats and chimney stacks
By Jenny Woolf
Scattered around the flinty-grey churches of Suffolk, you will sometimes see groups of brightly-coloured cottages, for all the world like flowers growing about the stumps of dark oaks. This contrast is typical of Suffolk, for this Eastern county has no quarries or brickworks, and its people have always collected bits and pieces with which to create their buildings. As a result, many Suffolk buildings are glorious jumble of flints from the beaches, rushes from the marshland, and clay and timber from the farms.
That is not to say that Suffolk lacks grand homes. There is Elveden Hall, where Angelina Jolie filmed part of Lara Croft: Tomb Raider, not to mention Framlingham Castle and Ickworth House. Yet somehow it is often the humbler homes that engage the emotions and delight the eye.
Just inside Suffolk’s southern border, Long Melford’s rambling village street is lined higgledy-piggledy with five centuries’ worth of typical vernacular houses. Some are plastered, some are timbered, and some boast the enormously tall chimney-stacks that betray their Tudor origin.
Five hundred years ago, those quaint buildings represented the last word in homes and warehouses for hard-nosed modern businessmen, for medieval Long Melford was a thrusting, busy place. Like many other Suffolk towns – notably beautiful Lavenham – it was built with money from the cloth trade, and it did very well indeed. In Lavenham, the beautiful timber-frame Guildhall of the Wool Guild of Corpus Christi still stands in the market place and is now under the care of the National Trust, with a museum and exhibitions on the medieval cloth industry.
There were around 30 weaving businesses in Melford, plus associated craftsmen like dyers who made pigments from the plants they gathered in the surrounding countryside. Yellows and greens came from nettles and cow-parsley, reds from ladies-bedstraw, and mauves from damsons and sloes.
Indeed, it was probably the dyers of Suffolk who first stumbled upon the idea of Suffolk Pink – an exquisite example being the pink cottages by St Mary’s Church in the village of Cavendish. The Suffolk Pink concept has now become so popular that a new variety of apple (discovered in Suffolk, of course) has been named for it.
Traditionally, though, it is a style of decoration: some have diamond-paned windows and oversailing upper storeys. Others are medieval moated halls, or cottages with low doors and steep thatched roofs. What they all share is their colour – pink. Shell-pink, rose-pink, geranium, even raspberry.
Centuries ago, these pink shades were created by adding natural substances to traditional lime whitewash. The cottager might perhaps stir in some elderberries – small black globes that release an amazing carmine red – or dried blood, or crumbled red earth.
Long Melford’s wealthy burghers also built the longest church in Suffolk – the amazing Holy Trinity. The size of a cathedral, it is as splendid inside as out. It contains, among other treasures, Suffolk’s largest collection of medieval glass.
Most of this glass commemorated the Clopton family, who lived in the village’s Kentwell Hall. A large brick mansion, Kentwell is essentially Tudor, with a Gothic centre block. Its latest owners insist that it is no stately home, just a family dwelling – albeit a very unusual one.
Kentwell has moats as well, and so do many smaller old Suffolk houses. By the 1500s, moats had become popular ornamental features and although many of Suffolk’s smaller moated houses are not open regularly to the public, although many offer private tours by arrangement. However, some have exquisite gardens which they do open during the summer months, such as those at Helmingham Hall, for example, home of the Tollemache family for 500 years. Here, there are two drawbridges which are pulled up every night as they have been since 1510, and the hall reverts to being an island, protected by its wide moat.
The historical gardens at moated Otley Hall, just north of Ipswich, are open by arrangement, and they include such curiosities as a croquet lawn and a nuttery. The gardens of nearby Heveningham Hall are also often open, and they contain many secret bridges and tunnels, as well as an elaborate parterre.
Parterres, popular in the 16th and 17th centuries, capture the curlicued decorative style of this period perfectly. They are hard to create, hard to maintain, and you cannot use them for much; so they made a perfect status symbol.
So, too, did the pargeting which became popular in Suffolk and adorned the walls of so many Suffolk houses. First seen around Henry VIII’s time, this elaborate custom-made plaster decoration has undergone something of a revival in recent years, although few modern displays can equal the best of the old ones.
In fact, gorgeous though pargeting looks, expert Tim Buxbaum believes that the craft developed partly as a way of covering up second-rate timbering or untidy new extensions on the outside of houses. “Coating the structure with a decorative coat of plaster was a good way to give an old building a new lease of life,” he says.
Buxbaum, who runs a conservationist architectural practice in Lower Ufford, draws special attention to the Ancient House in Ipswich, one of the finest surviving examples of pargeting in the country.
Commissioned in the 1600s by Robert Sparrowe, a widely travelled spice merchant, the house carries representations of Neptune with a trident, riding a sea-horse, St George and the Dragon, and Atlas carrying the world upon his shoulders – and that is just a fraction of its ebullient imagery.
Suffolk’s churches offer an exterior contrast to its ornate or colourful houses. One of the most famous Suffolk churches is Holy Trinity, Blythburgh, near the coast. It is full of light yet also shimmers with mystery. Inside, its wooden roof is covered in carved angels. Not far away, at Huntingfield, the rector’s wife, Mildred Holland, hitched up her skirts, climbed onto scaffolding and lay flat on her back for eight months in the 1860s to paint a stunning, Pugin-esque masterpiece of Victorian Gothic angels all over the ceiling.
In contrast, the parish church of St Peter and St Paul of Lavenham is typical of the wool churches of the county – completed by 1530. After visiting the church, stroll down the hill into the town, which has nearly 350 listed buildings. It’s regarded as one of the finest surviving medieval towns in England. Some parts of the town must still look much as they did when Elizabeth I made a grand state visit in 1578.
Indeed, when Robert Louis Stevenson visited Lavenham in 1873, he thought it looked, even then, like “what ought to be in a novel.” Now, of course, he would be imagining Angelina Jolie in a movie. Which all goes to show that times may change, but Suffolk does not.
Editor’s choice
Invitation to View allows small groups of visitors a great chance to see private historic houses which are not otherwise open
Constable and Gainsborough came from Suffolk and drew inspiration from the landscapes. Admire Constable’s unspoiled Flatford Mill near East Bergholt, with the Hay Wain’s famous Willie Lott’s Cottage. Visit the nearby National Trust museum and Gainsborough’s House museum in Sudbury which has a huge collection of the painter’s works.
The Great House (5-star), Lavenham: 15th-century restaurant with rooms on Lavenham’s Market Place, across from the Guildhall
The Suffolk Punch Trust in Hollesley: visitor centre and museum for these working horses with the longest written pedigree in the world
Theatre Royal, Bury St Edmunds: beautifully restored Georgian theatre, one of the earliest theatres in the country
The Swan at Lavenham (4-star), The Old Bar has a collection of memorabilia from American airmen stationed at Lavenham Airfield during World War II
Learn more about our Kings and Queens, castles and cathedrals, countryside and coastline in every issue of BRITAIN magazine
The post History of Suffolk county’s architecture appeared first on Britain Magazine | The official magazine of Visit Britain | Best of British History, Royal Family,Travel and Culture.
Britain Magazine | The official magazine of Visit Britain | Best of British History, Royal Family,Travel and Culture https://www.britain-magazine.com/features/history/suffolk-architecture/
source https://coragemonik.wordpress.com/2020/03/25/history-of-suffolk-countys-architecture/
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Neuschwanstein
Warwick Castle
The word castle usually engenders images of European historical structures designed for military defense or to house nobility and royalty, places like mad King Ludwig II’s Neuschwanstein in Bavaria and England’s Warwick Castle. While late to the grand building party, in fact centuries late, America has a few castles of its own. Some were built with a historical European esthetic, others present something entirely new and American. Biltmore Estate in Asheville, North Carolina is one such castle.
Biltmore House
Built in the French Renaissance style, Biltmore House’s 135,000 square feet contain 35 bedrooms, 43 bathrooms, ball rooms, a banquet hall, 65 fireplaces, a bowling alley, an indoor pool, and copious servants’ quarters among other amenities all spread over four floors. Currently, the estate in the heart of the Appalachian Mountains is comprised of the house with over four acres of floor space, expansive gardens, and farms spread over 8,000 acres. It is the largest residence in the United States.
George Washington Vanderbilt as a young man
Creating a house and estate of these proportions required wealth beyond the wildest imaginings of ordinary mountaineers living as they did in a region renowned for its great natural beauty and its deep and abiding poverty. Luckily for George Washington Vanderbilt, grandson of steamship and railroad magnet Commodore Cornelius Vanderbilt, there was plenty of available cash to fund his dream of a European style palace in the Blue Ridge Mountains. When the Commodore died in 1877, he left an estate worth more than $100 million, well over $2 billion today. It was the Gilded Age (late 1860’s-about 1900) and excess was a way of life for a very privileged few.
Mount Pisgah
George Vanderbilt was only 25 when he set on the course that would bring his vision of a grand mountain summer estate to fruition. A railroad had been completed through the Blue Ridge Mountains in the early 1880’s and brought with it tourists and those seeking a mild summer climate away from the heat and disease of the lowlands. George and his mother visited Asheville for both the beauty of its surroundings and for the climate that they felt would be kinder to her chronic malaria and alleviate his fear of tuberculosis. In 1888 while riding on horseback through the area with his friend Charles McNamee, Vanderbilt fell in love with a tract of land surrounded by mountains, but he wanted more land than just the building site to create his estate. To this end, Vanderbilt hired McNamee to act as his land agent. McNamee began acquisitions in the summer of 1888 with 2000 acres, a process that eventually saw Vanderbilt buying up around 700 parcels including wilderness forest, 50 small farms, and 5 cemeteries. According to McNamee, many of the original property owners were very happy to sell out and leave their shabby log cabins behind. In addition, some of the land was not in the best of conditions due to poor farming practices. By George’s death in 1914, the estate was comprised of 125,000 acres of prime rehabilitated mountain property, including Mount Pisgah, now part of Pisgah National Forest.
Bringing George’s vision to life required skills far beyond any he possessed. To build his dream house, he hired the preeminent architect of the day, his friend Richard Morris Hunt. Construction began in 1889 and required armies of craftsmen and builders, many of whom who lived on site in purpose built cabins. With the house begun, George had a rail branch built to bring family and guests to the edge of the property. From the depot, they would be transported by carriage and automobile over the long winding driveway. Later, a small lane of stone cottages and shops after the style of an English estate village was constructed to house estate workers. After six years, construction was not finished, but enough of the house was ready to enable George to open the beautifully decorated mansion to his friends and family for Christmas Eve, 1895. Construction would continue for years thereafter. After completion, the house contains over 11 million bricks, has a 102 step stone staircase rising four stories, and a huge iron chandelier suspended from a single point that illuminates the main entry with 72 electric lights. When George married American Edith Stuyvesant Dresser (1873–1958) in 1898 in Paris, he brought his bride home to live at Biltmore House where their only child, Cornelia, was born in 1900.
Such a magnificent structure required grounds equal in planning and beauty, so Vanderbilt hired America’s most famous landscape architect, Frederick Law Olmsted, creator of Central Park and father of American landscape design. Both formal and informal gardens were created to complement the house and the surrounding topography. The gardens and farms established by George and Olmsted continue to flourish today.
Biltmore House alone would be enough to make it stand out among America’s great houses, but its interiors contain furniture and artwork just as memorable. While the house was being constructed, architect Hunt and George traveled Europe and the Orient seeking treasures to fill the rooms and line the walls of the mansion. The collection remains intact and can be seen when one tours the house. Romantic Asheville (https://www.romanticasheville.com/biltmorececil.htm) describes the collection thusly:
Inside, artworks by Renoir, Sargent, Whistler, Pellegrini and Boldini adorn the walls and, in one case, the ceiling. The furniture includes designs by Sheraton and Chippendale. A chess set and gaming table, which belonged to Napoleon when he was in exile at St. Helena, are on display in the salon, and Chinese goldfish bowls from the Ming Dynasty can be admired in the library. Eight 16th-century Flemish tapestries hang in the Banquet Hall and Tapestry Gallery. Fifty Persian and Oriental rugs cover marble and oak floors.
In my opinion, the most remarkable thing about Biltmore House and Estate is that it remains in the Vanderbilt family. It is a private residence as well as a major tourist attraction with portions open to the public for tours, like so many of its British and European peers.
Romantic Asheville describes the estate as it operates today.
The appraised value of the 135,000 square foot Biltmore House is about $37 million, according to Buncombe County tax appraisers in 2017. The value of the part of the estate that is open to the public with 2,194 acres, the House, hotels, restaurants, and other buildings exceed $300 million.
The estate is still family owned. George Vanderbilt’s great grandson, Bill Cecil Jr, is current CEO of Biltmore Company. His father (and George Vanderbilt’s grandson William Amherst Vanderbilt Cecil) was responsible for most of the dramatic growth of Biltmore. He died on October 31, 2017. His wife Mimi passed away just a few weeks later. In 1957, Cecil married Mary “Mimi” Ryan, a lawyer with a Wall Street firm. In 1960, they moved from New York to Asheville to focus on preserving Biltmore by including tourism. The number of employees at Biltmore has dramatically increased from 100 in the mid 1970s to 2,400 in 2017.
For information about visiting Asheville and touring Biltmore Estate:
Romantic Asheville
Biltmore Estate website
Nonfiction
Gallery
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Further Reading
https://www.romanticasheville.com/biltmorececil.htm
https://traveltips.usatoday.com/biltmore-estate-63526.html
https://www.arcadiapublishing.com/Navigation/Community/Arcadia-and-THP-Blog/November-2017/%E2%80%8BAmerica%E2%80%99s-Largest-Home-History-of-Biltmore-Estat
https://www.ncfieldfamily.org/travel/attractions/biltmore-estate/
https://gardenandgun.com/articles/secrets-biltmore-estate/
https://www.biltmore.com/visit/biltmore-house-gardens/estate-history
Linda Bennett Pennell is an author of historical fiction set in the American South or about Southerners traveling far from home. While she writes about the land of her birth, anything with a history, whether shabby or regal, ancient or closer to our own day, has fascinated her since early childhood. This love of the past and the desire to create stories of it probably owes much to her Southern roots.
Southern families are filled with storytellers who keep family and community histories alive. It is in their blood and part of their birthright. Linda’s family had many such yarn spinners who entertained the family on cold winter evenings around her grandmother’s fireplace and during long summer afternoons on her wraparound porch. And most important of all, most of those stories were true.
Click here to connect with Linda and find out more about her writing.
America’s Largest Castle The word castle usually engenders images of European historical structures designed for military defense or to house nobility and royalty, places like mad King Ludwig II's Neuschwanstein in Bavaria and England's Warwick Castle.
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