Adventurers Three Course Feed

In a local fantasy game I made passing reference to a three course lunch served to a large group of adventurers that suddenly burst in on the small inn of a tiny village. It was a fixed menu so that surprised staff would cope and drew on basic ingredients the village could provide at short notice. More recently I decided to prepare these home-made dishes and see whether they were even remotely tasty. In designing them I was influenced by my past involvement in both role-playing and medieval recreation clubs. Here I will describe those dishes and whether they worked for me.

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The first course is a bowl of mushroom soup with toast. I lack a blender so had to do this by grating and slicing. The bulk of the mushroom was portobello for its size and tastiness. This I carefully grated and mixed with seasonings and water. Next I sliced a bunch of button mushrooms in profile. This provides a well-known shape signifying mushroom to anyone seeing the resulting dish. I stir-fried these in oil flavoured with a hint of truffle. Then I poured in the water-and-mushroom mix on top and cooked it all till boiling. The end result looks very different from canned mushroom soup puree. The water and mushrooms are still distinct components - this is a dish of textures as well as tastes. I enjoyed it with lumpy hot buttered toast.

The second course is roast turnips slathered in cottage cheese. I lack experience with roasting roots and bulbs and am re-thinking how to do this. I peeled three smallish turnips so that they had flat bases. While mixing some seasoning into the cottage cheese, I threw the turnips into boiling water. Next, I scored them with crosses to expose some of the insides for cooking then poured melted butter over them. Finally, I put them in the oven which had been heated to 200 degrees celcius. Initially I roasted them for 20 minutes but then extended that for another 10 minutes. Finally I prised them apart into barely connected quarters and dumped the cheesy curds over them. These roots were still firmer and more fibrous than I was expecting. They also tasted more 'garden' than I am accustomed to. I suppose this is because I was comparing them with potatoes. I ate it all but next time I will slice them into separate disks to allow for greater cooking.

The third and final course is simplicity itself. I just mixed together some almonds with raspberries (and then decorated them with some fresh grated mint). The only problem with this is how to serve it. The nuts are hard and crunchy but the berries are soft and squishy - does one eat with hands or spoons? Maybe I will see if blackberries are a bit firmer.

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Fantasy can be anything. Recently published Dungeons & Dragons cook books present thoroughly modern cuisine masquerading as something stranger by use of medieval fantasy names. But if you did want something that felt just a bit more medieval then a few self-set limitations may be useful.

Using simpler technology results in less processed ingredients (such as my variably textured soup). A more significant limit is to only use ingredients from the Old World (Afro-Eurasia). This gives you a lot to work with but does omit some things that are ubiquitous today. Excluding maize, potato, tomato, capsicum, pineapple, avocado and various beans can be difficult to imagine. But there is numerically far more foodstuff with an Old World origin. In my recipes I cooked and seasoned with garlic, ginger, mint, coriander, basil, olive oil, butter and parmesan. And finally using some surprising combinations of flavours can get away from modern conventions of separating savory and sweet.

My efforts I hope produced dishes that are rustic and hearty in character. Maybe I should serve them sometime at a mediavel fantasy themed gathering or game session.

Encore

Was there ever anything you had to do that you turned into something you wanted to do anyway? This has often been true of me. Way back in the mid-90s my teacher-training included designing some exercise demonstrating the value of diversity. At that time I was also delving into the history of popular music. The result was an activity in which students would put together the most diverse and therefore best band of musicians.

The play-test of this activity had a luke-warm reception from a group of teens. The teacher-trainers felt similarly. Feedback however was vague - teacher-trainers only sometimes practiced the constructive criticism they advocate. I can guess at a few things however. One is simply that adolescents are difficult to engage from the position of having never met them. Another is that even then youngsters were less into bands than they were solo performers or dance groups. Also maybe I was mistaken in thinking musicians are remotely as engaging as the music they produce. As for the adults in the room? Possibly they felt that the diversity I was show-casing was too functional - mixed skill-sets offering consumers something enriching was possibly too pragmatic for my idealistic mentors. And then there was my production values.

All that is left is a set of basic sketches of an imaginary band called Encore. I came across them in my concertina file and decided to share them here. They contrast with my AI-generated Sub-Culture Kids Action Figure Selection. They are basic but I feel they convey what I imagine is a band I would enjoy following. Encore is indeed diverse in gender and background and with my vague grasp of fashion I also suggested a mix of musical influences within the group. But most importantly for me is a selection of instruments that will each sound distictly even once played together. I think I need to go to more gigs.

Crossing The Streams

I feel like streaming is a new part of my life but, if I cast my mind back, I have been using the Internet to access television programs for well over a decade. Here I will trace my use of it and make some observations of TV from the comfort of your lap.

It may have started with YouTube and focused on old TV shows shared by fellow users. It has been a wonderful if patchy way of finding old stuff to discover or re-discover. All that culminated in me collating these lists for friends. Another old show I have since watched was Man About The House (70s share household comedy that was comfort food during lonely lockdowns). Over time my use of YouTube has shifted away from TV and towards original user-generated content (albeit some of it celebrating those old shows).

Another kind of streaming I moved into was using the websites of free government TV stations ABC and SBS. There is a lot of worthwhile stuff to find there and has included Upstart Crow, Beforeigners, Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries, Death In Paradise, Wellington Paranormal, Cavendish, Whiskey Cavalier, The Orville and Vagrant Queen. A diverting mix of mystery, comedy and speculative fiction can still be had for free at any time. That free aspect of the experience is important because all my life TV had been free. That was even true for the commercial channels.

Sure you can tell me that I was supposedly 'the product' because TV stations were selling advertising space to attract my custom. However advertisements have never had that big a draw on me. A fast food ad was as likely to send me to the kitchen to have some toast. So all my life TV was free and hence I resisted the big concept in streaming - paying for ad-free content.

I did spend some money now-and-then on renting specific items on Apple. This was just an extention of purchasing songs online and the concept of buying separate things is nothing new. Subscribing to a service that just sits there in the ether was something I resisted. But the pandemic changed that.

Everyone had been talking about the many cool shows that could now only be seen on these boutique services. Here is an exception to the power of advertising because peer groups are powerful. And I knew what they were telling me was true because the odd video night with friends would demonstrate what I was missing. I was stuck in my room and could easily transfer some money to access these cornucopiae of entertainment. But I have standards and set a limit of paying for between zero and one streaming sevices at a time. I will stay with one for a month and then have nothing for another few months and then dip into the next. So far I have mostly rotated through Disney, Prime, Paramount and Netflix.

Disney drew me in so I could see what was happening in the Star Wars and Marvel Cinematic Universes. Once there I would stay for random things like Only Murders In The Building and Burn Notice. But what of the big effects-laden shows that drew me there? So far I have most enjoyed The Mandalorian (among Star Wars programs) and Loki (among MCU fare).

Prime is home to a few things I return to every now-and-then. The misguided but visually stunning Rings Of Power is one. Gritty yet engrossing The Expanse is another. And the Legend Of Vox Machina is vulgar animated fun in a roleplay-inspired setting.

Paramount is the home of Star Trek and so far the version I feel stikes the best balance between gravity and levity is the retro yet fresh Strange New Worlds. I'm sure I enjoy other things there but one problem with all these services is keeping track of who serves what. None of them have a particularly firm station identity in my mind.

I am however aware that Netflix is the oldest and biggest of popular streaming services and it is one I will return to soon. I was suprised how much I enjoyed the remake of Lost In Space. Likewise The Witcher is way more fun than I expected for something that looks that gloomy. And I get why Stranger Things is such a sensation - while I was enticed by its mix of nostalgia and horror I truly did become attached to its characters.

This is all part of my media diet and I try to limit its use. Of an evening I will watch one episode each of a few distinct programs. This works better for me than binging an entire season of one show. I also have a hunch that slowing a story helps one remember it better. I reckon that the days of seeing just one episode a week very much helped memory. Mind you I was much younger then.

PostCorona

In a conversation sometime during the pandemic, friends were wondering how long it would take till things got back to normal. I pulled the guess of 'five years' from my arse. It is five years since I discussed the pandemic here so this is an excellent time to revisit the topic. My wild guess was both too optimistic and too pessimistic. Too optimistic in the sense that Coronavirus and its many consequences are still with us. Too pessimistic in that the successive lockdowns necessarily imposed were over within two years for Victorians, while the World Health Organization (WHO) declared the global emergency over within four years.

Once we had vaccines, an amazing human achievement in speed of development and implementation, the path back to a 'new normal' was forged. Covid shots are now a standard like flu shots. Along with these, we have the everyday normalization of mask wearing and hand sanitation for those who choose to employ them. Personally, I felt that restrictions could have been lighter yet longer, but the prudent among us can enact that in our own life practices. I have long since developed and refined my own protocols and many others do the same thing. I reckon they have resulted in me having fewer common colds than in the past. Also, I now suspect that the times I feel like I'm starting to get a cold are often just overexposure to cat dander, dust and dairy.

I'm remembering behaviours from the time of that global emergency. Profiling came naturally to many of us. For my part I noticed that both the young and the old were tardy with things like safe distancing and proper mask use. However the elderly rapidly improved and I wonder how much of that was from loved ones suddenly suffering dire infection.

Much was made of the contrasting behaviours of different community groups. For instance, it is hardly surprising that Chinese-Australians rapidly adopted practices that 'back home' had been the norm due to other pandemics in recent memory. However I noticed something subtler than this. If a sufficient number of residents within a suburb adopted proper practices then locals of all backgrounds were more likely to do so too. Locality rather than background became a better predictor of behaviour as I was out-and-about (sometimes even with a document to show I was allowed to attend face-to-face work).

Another factor I noticed, one that looking at demographics misses, was the difference between lone individuals and groups. The former were better at keeping a distance than the latter. Hardly surprising since our companions command our attention while we are with them. It is a pity then that individuals often fell between the cracks of consideration for a variety of recognized groups in society. I'm still appalled by the news story of someone sitting alone in a park eating a snack and getting charged by police (because at the time we were only supposed to be exercising outside of the home).

There was plenty of online talk of 'Covidiots' and for sure there were many who never gave a damn for risk of infection. However I also noticed what I called 'Covigilantes' - those who adopted the pose of restriction enforcers with zero understanding of personal circumstances. I know of a student with a medical exemption to mask-wearing who copped so much verbal abuse from strangers that they wore a sign showing proof of that exceptional status. Frankly it all got a bit ridiculous and the pandemic had a way of exacerbating that. A consensus that had defined political responses to the emergency was too soon undermined at the grassroots.

I understand. Life was difficult even if in other ways it was strangely easy. Communications technology allowed us to stay at and even work from home. Rarely was I exactly bored because I'm easily amused by assorted lone pastimes. And yet there was an enervating listlessness that left its dull patina over life in general. We were facing the biggest change of our lifetimes and it was defined by an utter absense of change in day-to-day living. By the final lockdown of late 2021 I was turning rather scruffy. I also noticed locally that everyone was unilaterally choosing to act like it was over. I'm sure the state government was noticing this too and made sure that final lockdown was over a year before its next election.

What is the legacy of that time? Politically there were changes big and small. One innovation was the practice of Australian government leaders conferring regularly as the ad-hoc National Cabinet. From that time came more of a sense that government plays an important part in our lives. I recently walked past one boon of that attitude - a new messenger gene manufacturing facility for vaccines that will benenfit both Australia and our neighbours. There are a tiny few who look on this with suspicion but I will say nothing more here on that (except possibly for one anecdote I can share in comments below).

We all discovered our local parks and backstreets. The public golf course was closed for play and suddenly we were using it as another walking space. Our own neighbourhoods became the whole world for a short time. Since then I have noticed many more picnics happening than had in the past and more residents now use porches as alfresco spaces to enjoy a snack or drink. I still enjoy reading a novel while sitting in the front yard.

We also started using local shops more. One consequence of this was that those very long inner suburban shopping streets dwindled somewhat. Shops that had once served all the many visitors to those precincts suddenly closed so that only those the locals truly needed now persist. Old arcades like the Jam Factory in particular seemed to suffer. We shall see if they take the opportunity to refurbish and revive.

Of course some of these pandemic trends simply boosted the existing effects of things like globalized online shopping. Likwise the more withdrawn youths I observe now could be the product of forced home schooling during lockdowns but could also be the result of too much time spent online. Work will have to be done to compensate for such influences. The new normal needs to be something that feels normal for those experiencing it.

For me a personal indicator that I have gotten back to normal was that I finally recovered the gumption to travel. I was pretty slow to get there and know others who stepped onto planes as soon as they were allowed. I did it eventually and 'getting on with life' is a lesson that is coming very slowly to me. The pandemic has impinged on many aspects of life and even just a search for the term lockdowns returns a surprising variety of posts here. Some of it even looks like it was fun, but I hope we are spared such experiences in future.

Pooled Queue To The Loos

I'm here to enthuse about a policy I have benefitted from recently. I say 'policy' in the sense of decisions made by both government and commercial organizations (rather than legislation specifically). The development to which I refer is the construction of new public toilets in various locales (including train stations and shopping centres). These innovative facilities are designed as arrays of toilets that are both private and unisex (many are also of sufficient size to accommodate a disabled person in wheelchair with carer).

Each door off of a well-lit public space is marked for the use of any gender. Each chamber is a proper room rather than a stall made of dividers. Each has a toilet bowl and usually its own bathroom basin too. These new loos have appeared (as far as I can tell) with neither fanfare nor controversy. And yet they deftly address a divisive issue. What ideology abstracts into contrary desires practice demonstrates can be something many of us share. Feeling someone of your gender is welcome at the loos is a common wish. Having some privacy at the loos is also a common wish. Many of us want both and these new loos give everyone that. And they offer one more thing too.

As a non-driver I have always walked long distances and sometimes suddenly needed to go to the loo. It can be difficult to find them in public. It was particuarly difficult back in the 90s. Many stations ceased to be staffed and so the loos were permanently locked. That was a desparate time. I sometimes even had to find parkland bushes to hide behind. Things got better this century with the advent of those automatic loos which talk at you and play easy listening piano. But I digress. The point is sometimes you are in a hurry to go.

A complete absense of loos is one issue. Too few loos in a busy locale is another. And this brings me to a problem that was once described in the context of banks. Studies showed that it is more efficient for three bank tellers to share one queue than for those same three bank staff to each serve a separate queue. Customers were served faster if they were in just one line or pooled queue.

Loos that are both unisex and private do the same thing for anyone busting to go. If you are next in line then you can use the next free loo. Contrast this with the situation of separate male and female bathrooms. There could be a free loo right now in that other room you cannot enter but you will never know. And (from my perspective) urinals are fine till such time as you have to sit down.

This useful side-effect of pooled queues to the loos reminds me of the curb cut effect. Sometimes it transpires that a solution to one problem is also a solution to another problem you never bothered discussing. Sometimes helping some in society helps others too. And sometimes there are win-win scenarios that should satisfy everyone. It will take time but my hunch is these will become the norm as amenities are updated.

Quests

I have never played a live-action role-play game. Or maybe I have. On a few occasions I ran a clue-laden hunt or quest and it seems like a fun thing to reminisce about here.

Dragon Egg Hunt

I adopted an old FOME tradition and adapted it into a Dragon Egg Hunt. We held it close to Easter back in the late 90s. It was played on campus and those gathered were separated into a few groups. We met and came back together at something that was demolished long ago. An art gallery stood in what is now the new education faculty complex. Behind it some steps overlooking an open courtyard felt like a pagan shrine. Anyway, the groups were given clues that would then take them to more clues. They cast campus locations in fantastical terms. I had some assistants who would follow the groups around and award them with small choclate eggs as they progressed. Eventually they were given much more impressive eggs as prizes.

My favourite clue (if I do say so myself) was inserted into my sig file (the text appended to all sent emails which would sometimes include a quotation or song line). Among Monash students this was called a plan (as in your joking personal scheme for world domination). One clue told them that 'I hide in the ether and have a plan'. They pretty quickly went to the computer centre to log in and see a message I had sent them that morning which included yet another clue. Pretty clever use of the Internet for one as technophobic as I.

A Yulemoot Quest

Some time later I organized a more ambitious quest as part of a Yulemoot. This was a FOME house party held close to Christmas. The host house was Stonedhenge and it was a shortish walk from the Scotchman's Creek. We started the quest at dusk in the Melissa Street Playground. The twilight combined with the festive consumption of that evening rendered some of our group rather open to evocative suggestion. Walking directly from this lot along the Huntingdale Road Basin took us to the creek. For one friend it was as if we had walked into another realm from everyday suburbia.

Back then it was a grassy boggy tract of land and was only more recently turned into the far more useful and inviting Huntingdale Wetlands. I had some assistants each playing a role of sorts scattered across this area. One sat on a log and offered the questers gold (chocolate coins). Across Stanley Avenue the next sat on a bench off a bush track and offered Frankincense insense sticks. The last two helpers were in fact fire-twirlers who were supposed to surround and scare the group once it had entered the creek tunnels under the freeway. Nobody was scared. Everyone just got a fun surprise and were given whatever we had for myrrh. I'm happy we managed to get a night walk happening from a house party. Friends since have become so much more sedentary.

Statue Quest

I held a picnic as part of OFTAM back in the 00s. At that picnic I offered friends the chance to partake in a short Statue Quest. They would simply walk around the small Queen Victoria Gardens and find the answers to the following questions.

1. What are the names of the two characters depicted by the busts at the entrance (coming from the City) to the Gardens?

2. What is The Genie made of?

3. What are the four virtues that are personified around the base of the statue of Queen Victoria?

4. In which years did Edward VII reign?

5. What are the two statuesque inhabitants of the pond covered with green growing stuff called?

Nobody undertook that activity. Everyone was content to just picnic. I suppose I had invoked rather hot conditions that day...

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Most recently I drew a fantasy-themed map of the Brickmakers Park which could form the basis of some sort of quest along similar lines to the one held at the Scotchmans Creek. It could be more for parents and children and combined with a barbecue (which I have done there). I wonder if it would enthuse anyone these days.

Parkmore

I stood entranced by the automated puppet show in a coin operated display cabinet. Hardly surprising since everything is a novelty to small children. Only a few metres away were automatic sliding doors and they fascinated me too. At the time they were triggered by pressure sensors in a rubber welcome mat but later that will have changed to some sort of light sensor over the entrance.

This is a likely anecdote from my childhood in the 70s. I say likely because memory can be both very sharp and very fuzzy that long ago. I definitely was into both the mechanisms described but did I feel that way on exactly the same day? It hardly matters. Parkmore was my first experience of an enclosed shopping centre and there is plenty I recall from its original incarnation.

I'm surprised to discover that it is pretty much the same age as me. As far as I'm concerned it has always been there. Of course I know that such shopping centres are very much a post-war phenomenon but it opening while I was a baby is news to me. Apparently John Farnham popped into perform at its inaugeration and Santa flew down in a hot air balloon! All I can tell you is what it was like to visit for family shopping.



The centre was small by our standards now but you could still get lost in it. This was in part due to its asterisk-like internal layout. Several hallways radiated from an octagonally domed central hub. Shorter ones connected to the entrances while longer ones accessed the major 'anchor' stores of the centre. You could easily get those hallways confused. Archives say that originally there were clever colour-coded rows of lights in the ceiling to tell you which path you were on but nobody ever told me that. I just made use of store recognition to navigate (and if lost you could always just return to the hub).

The hub itself was most distinctive for three shops in the form of free-standing stalls. One sold ice cream and milkshakes so I could hardly forget that. Another I do forget but let us say it was something eminently practical like a key cutter. The third however was more than a shop - it was free entertainment in the form of a glass blower applying flame to glass tubes till they became glowing toffee and then shaping them into parts of various trinkets for sale.

Today the hub or an area close to it would be a food court. Back then however there was only a smattering of food stalls. The largest was the Red Balloon carvery and cafe. It had big red spherical hanging lamp-shades which dimly lit its space and provided a contrast to the far brighter lighting of the rest of the centre. It exists even now but the last time I went there it had lost its distinctive atmosphere.

Parkmore got a major extension and redesign by the turn of the century and to me was difficult to recognize. Gone was any semblance of the asterisk. Its growth was very much warranted by the expansion of the outer south-eastern suburbs but by then I had moved away and barely ever went there. I confine my recollections then to its original smaller iteration.

Time spent there may well have involved Mum visiting Venture while Dad visited Clark Rubber (at the ends of separate hallways). Venture was more interesting to me (it had a toy department) but Mum took way longer to browse things. Clark Rubber was less interesting but Dad got things done so then we had more of a chance to get an ice cream and sit on one of those circular plastic benches centred around indoor plants. Life got easier once I could wander off alone. Lukas and I spent time in Toy World. Other stores I recall were Brashes Records, Copper Art and the ominously named Liquidator (a store similar to the Reject Shop). By the 80s I think the centre had a small extension (possibly involving more fresh produce stores). Suddenly there was an escalator but it only went to a rooftop carpark. A visit would always end with gathering at Coles New World for foodstuffs to take back to the car.

I turn now to the brick-walled outside of Parkmore. Some stores could be accessed from its encircling footpaths and there was also one useful space for the community. Back then the greater Dandenong area lacked its own cinema so in school holidays movies would be played in general purpose venues. Parkmore had its own auditorium. I'm pretty sure I saw one of those slapstick action movies from Italy starring Terrence Hill and Bud Spencer there. Beyond that the only kind of outdoors you could enjoy were car parks. Parkmore indeed! Okay across the road there has long been a large park complete with playground and pond but that is thanks to the local council rather than the shopping centre.

I had originally wanted this post to be a more wide-ranging essay about shopping centres as sites for both commercial and community activity but realized all I felt like was reminiscing. I could do that bigger entry another time. For now I will throw in my proposed list of criteria for shops that also facilitate face-to-face interactions. They are variety and competition, shopping and other activity, indoor and outdoor spaces, the familiar and the novel, access and comfort. And there was one last criteria called 'right sized' which interacts interestingly with the others. The bigger a centre is the more variety it has but the smaller it is the better ease of access it has. I could try testing the old Parkmore with these criteria but possibly you can do that yourself by drawing on what I have described here.

Advice

Here is some advice for a major political party that has lost government and been relegated to an opposition role. Even solicited advice is only sometimes heeded so this entry shows I'm still an optimist. Or possibly I just want to record my musings since a recent foreign election of some significance. Here I go then.

1. Get better at having conversations with those who think differently from you. Chances are your leaders and representatives are okay at this but your rank-and-file members and supporters also need to improve in this vital political skill. Do they even recognize its importance? Do they ever get a chance to practice it? Do they mistakenly think that political engagement is a robotic exchange of slogans? All this can be difficult and so it makes sense to start small by practicing among participants in your own organizations and movements.

2. It is natural for your party to have a debate over how to do things differently in future. Such discussions can get rather impassioned. But a useful rule-of-thumb is this - the more public your internal debate is the more important it is for that debate to be a civil one. Voters are observing you. They will be wondering if prospective managers of the nation can even manage themselves. Your political rivals are also studying you and looking for ways of wedging your various factions or camps. Deny them that chance.

3. Use your imagination in deciding on any course-correction. Asking whether you should move closer to or further from the political centre is simplistic. Should that change apply to all or just some issues? Should it be a change in substantive policy or in what is emphasized? Will all your proposals work together if implemented? Should your platform serve a sufficiently large demographic alliance or can it be framed as of universal value to the whole electorate? If implementing your values matter to you then so should your chances of winning.

I have a hunch that the full-time campaigners in any major political party have a sense of all this anyway. The biggest challenge is how the part-time campaigners and ideological fans can develop such understandings. Culture is more difficult to intentionally change than institutions. Anyone got any advice for me on that?

Tour Musings

Traveling is a brutality. It forces you to trust strangers and to lose sight of all that familiar comfort of home and friends. You are constantly off balance. Nothing is yours except the essential things - air, sleep, dreams, sea, the sky – all things tending towards the eternal or what we imagine of it.

I went looking at travel quotations and this obscure one from Cesare Pavese (an Italian poet) may help me articulate musings arising from my recent holiday. Here then I wonder about the personal implications of travel and some of what Pavese wrote resonates.

Saying 'brutal' takes it too far in my case - I went from a developed nation to other developed nations in an age of convenience. But there were times in which I had to endure discomfort and boredom (particular on flights) and I was definitely aware of risks both likely and unlikely. My travels had been postponed by what had been a very risky pandemic. Now I was potentially exposed to more human respiration than in a very long time (and a lot of smoking too).

Other aspects of our changing times were also sobering. The world had arguably been getting safer than it has ever been but then some new or old-as-new conflicts burst forth and one cannot ever completely dismiss the possibility of stray missiles or hijackings. Ironically the very security processes one meets at airports are reminders of all those dangers.

But alongside fear exists trust. This attitude is vital in many aspects of life and becomes more pronounced in travelling overseas. I put my fate in the hands of so many strangers. Even the smallest of acts can shape ones day - consider getting the right advice on which platform to go to following a sudden change of train times. I was well served by others. My lack of familiarity with languages and locations and processes was smoothed over by those who professionally or voluntarily helped me. To all of them I am grateful - even the grumpy ones.

I never exactly forgot home or friends but I did let them fade somewhat into my mental background. There was so much to actively focus on in the here-and-now. In some cases it was the positive of things I had wanted to see for a very long time. In others it was the negative of ensuring my few key possessions were in exactly the right pockets from moment to moment. I stepped carefully on cobblestoned paths to prevent losing balance. I intently observed passing landmarks to ensure I never got too lost. My senses seemed sharpened. I felt hale-and-hearty. Some of that has falterend since and I wonder if there was some kind of travel adrenaline enhancing me till the moment I got home and truly relaxed.

I walked more in Europe and in more ways than usual. It all felt fine then but on returning it seems I exacerbated some old damage and recovering from that takes longer now than it did in my youth. Age is getting to me and I wonder whether I left this holiday till too late in life. It was hectic in a way that was more tiring that it once would have been. But I had more confidence now than I would have in younger days (despite sometimes feeling like the new Monsieur Hulot in my stooping and bumbling ways).

It may be the last time I do anything so ambitious - eight cities in two weeks is a lot. The other side of the planet is also a very long way away. A friend has discerned in herself a limit of how many time-zones her energy levels will allow her to travel and possibly I will observe something similar in future. There is still plenty to experience closer to home.

Another friend recently designed his European holiday with a Byzantine theme guiding it. I never had one but rather a few interlocking themes. The notion of a unified Europe was one. Another much smaller one was the inspiring music of Queen. Aspects of my travels felt akin to pilgrimage. And some of that was surprising and spontaneous. I waded into the Mediterranean but what started with dipping my feet in its inviting waves impulsively turned into holding its water in my cupped hands and even experimentally tasting that ancient brine. I reckon it may have looked ritualistic to anyone observing. And that inner-sea is something worthy of awe as a natural phenomenon that then fostered a dramatic florishing of diverse human civilizations.

They say travel is of value because it brings us closer to such diversity. I felt that in travel but I also feel it back home in multicultural Melbourne. I suspect that there are others who travel yet never discover anything more than confirmation of what they think they know. But I was open to both the big and the small things along the way. Some of the things I most enjoyed discovering were the ones I had never intended to find. One may go to a city to witness some grand momument seen in a dozen documentaries but then find something more charming in a sidestreet just around the corner. And then there is the next corner you never turn into but some other traveller has and that then becomes a part of the life they are living.

I may well never return to those various locales but I am left with vivid recollections of them. I can imagine moving among any of them in a way that is odd for something that in reality involves a few days of flight to experience. Those imaginings now help enhance the comforts of the familiar.

Grand Tour

In a few weeks I will be visiting Europe. Right now this announces that plan and then on my return it will become a record of my travels. If the past is any indication then it will be rambling.

All the biggest aspects of my plan are sorted but the small stuff I still need to get done is annoyingly fiddly. Posting this kernal of an entry now is possibly an act of procrastination. Expect more in a few weeks.

* * * * *

Now I'm back from my overseas holiday - a privilege even in this day-and-age (with only a minority of the global population crossing borders just for fun). This is my travelogue moreorless as a chronology.

Europe via Doha

I flew Qatar Airways from Melbourne late on a Friday. The service and quality are decent and I particularly enjoyed the variety of food served. Meals also provided me with rests from wearing my face mask (a voluntary discipline of mine) and indicated that time was passing. I also managed to concentrate on a few movies and programs.

We arrived at Doha Airport in the wee small hours and were free to wander about inside till our connecting flight. This makes sense - if all the security checks are happening at the ends of your journey then why bother with them in between? This cultivated oasis impressed me with its generous facilities and I was particularly taken with its relaxing indoor garden.

Venice

The shorter of my two flights eventually arrived at Marco Polo Airport in greater Venice on Saturday and I muddled my way onto a bus bound for Saint Lucia Station on the islands of classical Venice. What an amazing town of canals and laneways. The accumulated aromas of Italian cooking overpowered that of the briny lagoon. I had a few hours to just wander and even in that time discovered things like the La Maddalena Church with its Masonic look.

I met with the Intrepid Travel group I would be part of for a week. We were staying at the Hotel San Geremia and were soon allocated our rooms. Mine was on the top floor and so a holiday of stairways began. My window overlooked a terracotta tiled roof towards a patch of trees behind the hotel. That evening we reconvened for dinner at a restaurant chosen by our Italian guide. I ate some good pasta and we were entertained by an accordianist.

I became familiar with some of our mixed group of tourists from North America and Australasia. We were of diverse backgrounds. Existing connections between members included partner, sibling and recurring travel companion. I feel like I was poitioned exactly between the younger and older halves of the group. Everyone was engaging and chatty once they got a chance. Some of them stayed out longer but I needed my sleep so crashed after dinner.

Sunday started with me hunting for breakfast back at the station and then meeting with the group for a guided walk. We soon left the busy thoroughfares and found outselves in an old Jewish ghetto. We were made aware of curios like the local rainwater wells in so many of the squares. We criss-crossed the Grand Canal by both gondola and the Ponta di Rialto bridge (just so we could). Our key destination was the Piazza San Marco at which we could see the palace of the Doge. Our guided tour ended abruptly with a surprise lunch of crostini with various toppings in a cafe off a small square. This was covered by our tour fees but was one of many times I think some of us wished our guide would tell us a bit more in advance.

Following a nap I then went on my own unguided walk. I started by visiting the park behind us - Parco Savorgnan - one of the few large patches of public green space on these compact islands. Then I had pizza in a cafe on the Cannaregio Canal while a gigantic gull begged from the waters. Later as dusk was gathering I crossed the Ponte degli Scalzi close to the station and got lost in some laneways that refused to ever run along the canal side.

Eventually I discovered a church square - Campo San Giacomo - and enjoyed the atmosphere of locals just hanging while kids played ball. It was a balmy night with a festive vibe and one lane between squares was inhabited by a person disguised as shrubbery scaring passers-by. I never felt too lost as there were always others wandering about. I returned to my room to pack for travel the next day and pondered turning some of my experiences into a 'choose your own adventure'.

La Spezia And The Cinque Terre

I rode my first bullet train the Monday we left Venice for La Spezia. It is a small port city on the west coast of Italy. We barely saw the city proper and only stood in its railway square and a street for bustops. We got taxi vans to Hotel Nella in the hilly Foca neighbourhood overlooking the city. It was a charmingly kitch hotel and - still tired - I stayed while the others went for a boat ride in the bay. Did I miss some things? Sure. But I experienced other things and at my own pace. That evening I popped around the corner to the Hosteleria Bertolini for a lovely lone restaurant dinner.

On the Tuesday we got a bus and train on the Cinque Terra line. This was the purpose of us staying in La Spezia. The Cinque Terra is an array of five coastal villages connected by rail and hillside walking tracks. The five are Riomaggiore, Manarola, Corniglia, Varnazza and Monterosso. We took the train to Corniglia - the only village to lack coastal frontage and be solely on a hill. The station is close to the shore however and to access the village we took a taxing zigzag of steps. This was our test - now we had to each decide to continue with our intended walk or turn back. I had misgivings but decided to stick with it. We visited cafe loos then started on the track to Corniglia.

Only just walking between two villages was plenty for me. The views were stunning - yes - but I felt pushed to the limit. A hillside bar among the vineyards half-way along our track was most welcome. Eventually we walked down into Corniglia. These villages are lovely in the way they are traversed by steep back-switching lanes and stairs. From here we were free to do our own things. I stuck with an older couple and we decided to get the train to Monterosso - the village with the best beach.

In Monterosso I dipped my feet in the Mediterranean. The water was temperate on this mild day and it was lovely just to wade in. Soon we were met by most of the younger group members and next thing I knew I was making a sand castle with one. It was a pretty impressive effort once done but we never managed to fill its porous swimming pool.

Next we took the train to Rigiomaggiore for gelato and browsing gift shops. Finally we planned to visit Manarola for dinner but somehow this turned into simply taking photos from the cliffside path overlooking this most picturesque of villages. By the time we looked for restaurants they were too busy. A new plan worked however - we gathered even more of us together and went back to Foca to eat (once more for me) at Hosteleria Bertolini.

Hotel Nella was our first experience of complimentary continental breakfasts and I was a big fan of both this way of eating and the spacious breakfast room. But we were all set to move onto the next part of our tour that Wednesday and so once more took to transportation.

Florence

They talk so much of this city in the Monash History Department. Do subjects there and you will come away wishing to see it. And so finally I did. We walked several blocks from the station to a large and youth-oriented hostel - FlorencePlus. The narrow footpaths and busy roads combined with huge luggage rendered our oldest members rather pooped. We dumped our stuff in a spare room (it was too soon to check in) and then went on another guided walk.

My favourite way of seeing a magnificent monument is to spy a sliver of it at the end of a narrow pedestrian street and then have more of it exposed as I enter into its square or plaza. The Duomo or Cathedral of Florance was thus revealed to us and what a marvel it is. In some ways however I prefer the smaller and simpler Baptistry that attends it. Both however look warmly inviting in marked contrast to the more northerly tradition of church design that Australians are accustomed to.

Next we saw a bunch of nude statues arrayed under cover in the Loggia dei Lanzi. Finally we walked onto the Ponte Vecchio with its shops and a portion of the Vasari Corridor (a sky walkway made for the Medici) crowning the bridge. Here our guided tour ended and we did our own various things (some of the others wishing to practice haggling in the street markets).

I went back to the hostel to discover that I had to share a room for two nights with another member of the group. It was okay but I made myself scarce at times because he was taking online interviews while on holiday. I explored the venue to discover it had a laundry in the basement and made use of that. If only all hotels had such a thing there would be incentive for tourists to reduce the size of the wheeled luggage they lug about. The basement also had a diner and a sunken recreational courtyard, while the rooftop had an under-cover bar with views towards the Duomo. I enjoyed all this convenience but the elevators felt rather rickety.

On Thursday I had continental breakfast then retraced our steps of the guided tour but more slowly. I ate gelato while watching queues slowly move into the Duomo. I went across the Arno River and made my way to the Piazzale Michelangelo - a hilltop square sporting a replica of the statue of David. Hilltop destinations are navigationally easy - just wind your way upwards. I entered a hillside neighbourhood beyond a medieval wall and cut through the Giardino delle Rose (a charity-run garden of roses and modern art) to get to my destination. I barely glanced at David - my interest was in looking away from the hill and back the way I had come. These were truly grand views of Florence. Back down hill I had a late lunch of chilli garlic napoli pasta while dining alfresco. Returning to our hotel I looked for but never saw any of the old wine-seller 'plague windows' that were recently revived for selling coffees. I got a bit lost, but that was all part of the fun, then almost napped in the rooftop bar and somehow whiled away the evening.

Rome

We took train once more to the capital of Italy and onetime centre of the Mediterranean world. Once more we had to dump our stuff (this time at my first of three B&B brand hotels) and then take a full-on walk. We took in the Spanish Steps (close to the Spanish envoy to the Vatican) and the Trevi Fountain. I was struck by how these momunents are enclosed by relatively small squares that one never notices in movies. We also stepped further back in time by seeing the Pantheon, the Forum and the Colosseum. It was almost too awesome for me - I was overexposed to popular architectural icons and was most relieved on stepping into a church - Basilica St Andrea Della Valle - for the cool and calm rather than the decoration.

Chatting on this long walk with group members was fun but next we scattered and some of us took overcrowded essential public transport back to the hotel (there was a drivers strike on that day but everyone we met was remarkably composed). Following a shower and change I reconvened with the others for our Friday night farewell dinner at Saporito in the San Lorenzo quarter. Someone I had barely spoken with quizzed me on the relevance of Queen to what I had planned next. I had a burger because I was a bit over Italian by this night. However I stuck with those who went on for some gelato and then settled in and prepared for the second half of my European holiday.

Saturday involved walking to Rome Central Station and getting some trains with a change-over in the opulant Milan Station. I gave Mum a very quick phone call. As I rode the surprisingly efficient Italian trains I observed the landscape slowly shift from temparate plains and hills to cooler hills and lakes. The border with Switzerland was swiftly drawing closer.



Montreux

Transport went smoothly till I was faced with the need to transfer to a surprise train-replacement bus. I confusedly followed the crowd and someone muttered that recent avalanches had caused such temporary changes. I was preserving battery and so never took photos as I looked beyond the window at the green Alpine valleys we traversed. In the foreground was an even European distribution of villages in farmland, while in the background were forested hills with stony mountains peeping at us over them.

Eventually we got back onto a train and soon Lake Geneva appeared to one side of the line. I instantly recognized the scene from the album cover Made In Heaven and was relieved. I quickly left Montreux Station for its foreshore main road and checked into the old and gracious Hotel Splendid. Having secured my habitation for the next two nights, I ate Japanese close by.

On Sunday I had a small problem - Switzerland has its own distinct power points. I still had some battery charge left and rushed off to find the lakeside statue of Freddie Mercury. I took a lovely shot and immediately sent it to Belinda as part of an equinox birthday greeting. Now in the mood, I found the Queen Studio Experience close by. This small exhibition, housed in what was once a studio owned by the band, included instruments, costumes, album memorabilia, a room for viewing a documentary, and another with a mock mixing desk to play with. I took some more photos in efficient priority order then left for another and ever more pressing matter.

In many parts of Europe supermarkets bear the name of Coop. These are cooperatively owned by consumers themselves. For me the Montreux branch was simply a very useful store that sold me a European Union to Swiss power adapter. I rushed back to my room for some relaxation and the charging of my dutiful phone, somewhat to the frustration of the room cleaner. I had already been emergized by complimentary breakfast in the dining room, so it was soon time for a longer walk along the lakeside.

In the small parks that line the shore I came across a brass band performing for passers-by. Then I pressed on a few miles to the impressive Chillon Castle. The walk itself was picturesque due to the mountain-reflecting lake, the parklike walk, the intermittent public art, and the clement conditions that day. On my return I visited the station ticket office to confirm my connections for the next day and count the platforms. Such a practice would come in handy on other days.

I relaxed in my room some more then went a few streets back from the lake to find dinner. I had imagined something basic but impulsively dined in a fancy restaurant (complimentary bread followed by morel risotto and rounded off with tiramisu). Another customer even commented on my tasty choices. My first city alone had been a very satisfying one.

It was raining on Monday as I looked across the lake from my window-side breakfast table. I chatted with the owner on checking out and then took the stairs a few blocks back to the station and onward to another city across another border.

Strasbourg

My train rides to Strasbourg in France went smoothly but I then faced a long and rainy walk to my suburban hotel (another B&B branded one). Trudging along a bike track beside a highway is hardly the most gratifying of walks but it was improved somewhat by a garden colony to one side and soon I entered the inner suburb of Schiltigheim. It grew on me quickly. My hotel was the most new and basic I had been to but served its purpose. I spent the rest of the day in relaxing and exploring the neighbourhood. There was an old factory or warehouse that reminded me of Willy Wonka. There were charming backstreet townhouses decorated with wall art. I enjoyed dinner at a welcoming Indian restaurant on the main street and then settled in for a night of reading.

On Tuesday I had complimentary breakfast then walked along roads and across waterways to the European Parliament in Strasbourg. I find it apt that a French locale with a German name hosts an institution dedicated to cultivating peace between onetime belligerents via prosperous interdependence. I entered the modern ediface and passed security similar to that of an airport yet far more relaxed and respectful in tone. Once inside I undertook a self-guided tour of the public sections of the facility. This included displays of Europe themed art and ornaments. My favourite was a model of the stucture I was in. I dodged the school groups that started filling the space and went into the Hemicycle itself - the deliberative chamber of one of three European Union institutions that determine confederal policy. It was empty yet still impressive. However my mood was somewhat dampened by a political trend in which the 'Euroskeptic' ends of the Hemicycle are courted by too many of those sitting between them.

I finished with a snack in the cafe there and then walked via the Contades neighbourhood and some sports grounds back to Schiltigheim. That afternoon I made use of a laundromat and was soon asked advice by another person on using the machines there. Later I had a deconstructed pizza salad for dinner in a charming backstreet square (the streets that intersect there have names but the square itself seems nameless). Back in my room I packed and rested for the next day of travel.

Walking back to Strasbourg Station on Wednesday morning was complicated by my tendency to think taking streets seemingly parallel to your intended route will have the same basic result. It did allow me to glance at some old city architecture and I still got to my train on time. Familiarizing myself with stations and platform numbers had been serving me well but nothing was to prepare me for what happened once I crossed into Germany.

Appenweier Station has only three platforms but one is separated from the others by a short walk through parkland bisected by a stream. Luckily the path is well signposted. I had only a short time between scheduled trains but then my next one was half an hour late. I could have explored the village a bit but stayed put. The rest of the day my lateness accumulated. However it was more than just that one service messing with me. Trains were late or even cancelled at every German station at which I paused. Ticket offices were very helpful in issuing printed re-routings but problems cascaded. I cannot even tell you which stations I changed at but I feel like I stopped in Frankfurt, Bonn and Cologne.

Aachen

By the time I got to Aachen, close to the Dutch border, I was just over it all. Fortunately my hotel (third and final of the B&B brand) was a short walk from the station and there was a Turkish kebab shop across the road. I settled in and had a restful night away from crowded carriages and confused platforms. The foyer sported a small plastic statue of Charlemagne and it seems this image followed me in every part of town I visited.

On Thursday I slept in and, following breakfast, walked into the centre of town. I feel that Aachen is 'right sized' for wandering around and seeing things. I stumbled onto the town park. It featured a shrine-like shelter centred on a mineral springwater font and a glass-enclosed section of archaelogical excavation. Close by was Aachen Cathedrel and this time I did go inside. There were too few visitors to warrent queuing so it was easy. This is a particularly impressive cathedrel for its relatively modest size.

I browsed shops (some of them featuring that same statue) and donated a murder mystery I had just finished to an op-shop. I consumed cake and hot chocolate at a book store cafe - this particular book shop was four levels tall and even had a rooftop garden. I spent some time there, looking at everything from childish toys to adult magazines. But this was a diversion from why I was in the old capital of the Frankish Empire.

I found the Carolus Thermen in some parkland beyond the city centre. Past its barrier of change rooms and lockers is a marvellous playground of indoor and outdoor mineral pools and I whiled away a few hours just relaxing and taking in the atmosphere there. A large (and fully clothed) statue of Karl the Great overlooked us all. While seemingly incongruous, I like to imagine that the Carolingian ruler chose this town as his capital so he could always have a decent bath. I had a late lunch in the restaurant upstairs and this time I was overlooking the Holy Roman Emperor.

The mineral waters must have made me sleepy because I was slack for the rest of the day. I re-familiarized myself with the station (also right sized in my opinion) and cobbled together a snacky dinner from one of its shops to take back to my room. I packed for Berlin and then read from the Fighting Fantasy gamebook Starship Traveller.

Berlin

My intercity train connections to Berlin went smoothly and I enjoyed looking out the window at passing farmland and towns. Of particular note was the Volkswagen factory seen from Wolfsburg Station. But I have to backtrack a bit to that B&B Hotel because the theme of this Friday was silly mistakes. I had forgotten that the breakfast there was non-complimentary - embarrassing - but it was an error quickly corrected.

My next mistake happened in the massive Berlin Central Station. I got my intended suburban train for Charlottenhof confused for one for Charlottenburg. I quickly recognized the problem and rushed back to central from the zoo station. My destination was in greater Potsdam - technically a distinct city yet part of the greater Berlin-Brandenburg conurbation. I found the Havelufer Hotel even if it is barely signposted and from the street looks like it could be abandoned. It is however decent and gave me the biggest room of my holiday.

My third and final mistake of the day was to be infected by the enthusiasm of the young hotel receptionist who stressed that I had many hours yet in the day to explore beyond the hotel. I took this to heart and soon set off to find one of my holiday objectives. The hotel faced the Templiner Lake and I walked around it with the assistance of smartphone maps. But I also argued with that same device and we took a rather circuitous route through both tree-filled parkland and town house neighbourhoods. Along the way I encountered a fox. Soon I was lost in woodland at dusk walking on crunchy acorns along a track between a cemetary and some wire-fenced technical facility. Beyond that fence was my destination but how could I get to it? I walked the perimeter and eventually came to the gatehouse of the Albert Einstein Science Park but the guard told me to go away and return in daylight.

Eschewing dirt tracks, I took major roads, passing an Oktoberfest carnival, and got some currywurst with salad and chips for dinner. Back in my room I wondered whether I should try the next day for the same attraction or just abandon it altogether. I had been sticking to and succeeding in plans pretty well till that day but still had one more full day in Europe to go.

On Saturday I had complimentary breakfast and then took a cable ferry over the water. Only once across did I start negotiating with smartphone maps and things worked a lot better. I moved far more directly and was soon at the gatehouse. It was open and in I went. There are many working installations housed in the science park and some rather nice old architecture. My objective was the Einstein Tower - an optical observatory in the form of some very distinctive expressionist architecture. It was named in honour of Albert Einstein who only commented that it was rather 'organic'. That genius may have been noncommital on its appearance but I am all for it and took photos from every vantage of this enchanting ivory tower. It was definitely worth the return walk that day.

Next I went back into Potsdam via a free toilet stop at a nearby tree adventures rope course. I browsed a shopping centre attached to the station and then went into Berlin to meet an old friend. We originally met during my visit with Dad to small-town Germany back in the 90s and since then have only been in contact remotely. He now calls Berlin home. He took me on a walk of the city centre from the Brandenburg Gate to the Berlin Wall. Along the way I saw wide streets lined with monumental structures. We passed the US consulate and then its Russian counterpart. In front of that were silent vigils for those oppressed by belicose expansionism. But we were there for other things.

It was good to have a proper conversation with someone about our lives and travels and the changes we have witnessed. Of course I was also shown remnants of the Berlin Wall. Next we took a train to the Friedrichshain neighbourhood and stopped in a groovy student cafe. This was followed by some back laneways in which old warehouses converted into nightclubs stand as testament to the vibrant culture of this once divided city. We even passed a DJ spinning tunes under a railway bridge. My friend then went onto a dinner party and I returned to Potsdam for my final sleep overseas.

Things went very smoothly on Sunday - seems my mistakes were behind me. Berlin-Brandenburg Airport is new and efficiently designed and I had a lot of time to fritter away there. But eventually I was on a plane and preparing for more terribly long flights.

Home via Doha

I was still impressed by Qatar Airways but somewhat less so with Doha Airport. Something had changed and this time I had to endure two security check processes between my flights. Was it the resurgent clash of creeds in the Levant that had prompted this? Or was it simply that I was there at a busier time of night? Who can tell. It only enhanced my sense that I wanted it all over and done with so I could be back home.

And eventually I did. I was relieved once I got into Melbourne late on a Monday. During both a Skybus and a taxi ride home I felt a sense of relaxed belonging. It had been a long time for me to be so far away. My room however struck me as strangely busy - I must have grown accustomed to the minimalism of all those hotel rooms. My sleeping patterns and so forth took something like a week to normalize. And yet I was still living my European holiday in the form of curating photos and reviewing my notes.

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I have now blogged on some of the philosphical aspects of my travels that may otherwise have interrupted the flow of this post. Take a look here.

Advanced Toys & Trinkets

I have written much on the topic of Dungeons & Dragons as a role-play game but here I will turn to some toys of the same name. Once more I ruminate on the concept of a 'modest yet well-rounded toy collection' (as I did here and here).

In the 80s there was a toyline by LJN that was given the branding of Advanced Dungeons & Dragons (AD&D) and I cannot fathom why. The simpler parallel game name of Dungeons & Dragons (D&D) seems like better branding for kids. A charming cartoon (starring mundane world kids turned into fantasy world adventurers) bore that simpler name. Some of the AD&D toyline characters had cameos in the D&D cartoon. Furthermore, those AD&D toyline characters were also presented in the D&D booklet The Shady Dragon Inn as important non-player characters. And yet in colouring books of those same characters, the tag of AD&D was once more employed. I lack the obsessiveness to find the answer to this puzzling corporate vagary. The toys themselves are more interesting.

I had or still have a few of them but mine hardly constitute a collection. Some of them are miniature scale moulded plastic figurines but I'm more interested in the larger toys of the same brand. They had some articulation, weapons and cloth outer garments. Most were 3-3/4-inch scale while a few were 5-inch. In other toy lines these would just be different options for the consumer but in this line they were presented as intentionally different sizes - only some creatures were given the larger size. That alone shows some sort of dediction to the story behind the product. But what do I think would constitute a decent collection? Try this...

The Heroes: Strongheart, Ringlerun, Mercion,
Peralay, Elkhorn, Young Titan, Destrier

Strongheart the Paladin would be nominal leader of the good characters. Alongside him would be Ringlerun the Wizard and Mercion the Cleric. What makes that third character interesting is that she is presented as a cleric at all. In the 80s the depiction of religion in gaming was a controversial one. Nobody was ever a cleric in the D&D cartoon and yet here we have one in the AD&D toyline. Admittedly she looks rather wholesome.

Then there would be Peralay the Elf and Elkhorn the Dwarf. The fact they are only designated that way suggests that they belong in the non-advanced D&D of 'race as class' characters. One thing I like with these two is they boldly demonstrate size differences. Both dwarves and elves are smaller than humans here.

Rounding off the good forces would be the Young Titan (a 5-inch figure) and Destrier (a mount for Strongheart) maybe only needed for some quests.

The Villains: Warduke, Kelek, Skylla,
Zarak, Zorgar, Ogre King, Nightmare

Warduke the Warrior would be nominal leader of the evil characters. I imagine they all bicker and scheme but his shadow-shrouded face with glowing red eyes suggests someone they would all be cowed by. Allied with him would be Kelek the Sorcerer to which I would add Skylla. She is also a magic-user but was only made in the miniatures scale. More recently the adult collector company Neca has ported her into the larger line so I'm hardly the only one who thinks this is a worthwhile thing to do.

Zarak the Half-Orc Assassin (possessing both 'race and class') is a distinctly AD&D concept. And if I'm surprised by the inclusion of a cleric in this line I'm personally shocked at having a professional murderer presented too. Still it is just imaginary and once more I like the implication that orcs are somewhat shorter than humans. I imagine Zarak always tricking Zorgar the Barbarian into taking on the most dirty jobs for the gang.

Rounding off the evil forces would be Orge King (a 5-inch figure) and the Nightmare (a mount for Warduke) maybe only needed for some quests.

The Hazards: Dragonne, Hooked Horror,
and the Fortress Of Fangs Playset

Every adventure needs its hazards that may befall both protagonists and antagonists. The Dragonne (which I would rather call something plainer like 'Leodrake') is a draconic lion and a very impressive looking toy. The Hookled Horror is a distinctively odd monster from the game and looks just lethal. In another mood I would even re-cast the Titan and Ogre into this category. Finally there would be the truly wild and wacky Fortress Of Fangs playset to round off the best of this toyline from days of yore.

Seems fun even if role-playing itself is more fun.

Radiooooo

Radio but with the last letter written five times. This is the name of a website that serves as an online radio station with content curated by its membership. The interface very quickly tells you what it offers. There is a world map and a sliding scale of decades from over a century of recording. Using this you can hone in onto any offered time and place and then listen to the music of various artists. I tend to focus on the 60s-to-80s but let the world be my musical plaything. At other times however I just let the website do its things so that older and newer tracks are played too.

Here I will laud just a handful of the tracks I have discovered at Radiooooo. In this process I have found that the past is rich with new content. Much like history, there is always something more to find. But I will start with one newish track it played to me.

Disco Man (2021) by Remi Wolf is surprisingly joyous. The tense gloom I have noticed in many pandemic-era tracks is refreshingly absent here. The singer eschews such a pose in this song and you get a sense of gay abandon in celebrating the fun of the now. But sometimes I do enjoy the depiction of other emotional states.

I never knew of Labi Siffre and with songs like Cannock Chase (1972) we are given melancholy with a hint of hope thrown in. It is both heartfelt and beautiful. He seems a rare and overlooked singer-songwriter from a time in which others like him were dominating the charts.

I did know of Eartha Kitt and with tracks like Whatever Lola Wants (1962) we get a seductive yet quirky delivery that is all her own. She was much more than just Catwoman or the wise elder from Erik The Viking.

But now I move away from the Anglosphere. And yet English creeps into songs all over the world. Nice Mover (1979) by Gina X Performance says nothing of much consequence in English but this only accentuates its status as a quintessentially German New Wave track.

Zindagi Meri Dance Dance (1987) by Alisha Chinai & Vijay Benedict is in Hindi but every now and then the Bollywood singers say cute things like how they want to sing and dance on either Mars or Venus in very crisp English. This is lots of fun.

Songs that are mostly in another language but then present a short English phrase can have varying effects for the Anglophone listener. In French Graffiti (1975) Jane Birkin sings breathily in French but towards the end suddenly says "I want to be fucked by you" in English and it really gets your attention.

Eventually I escape English entirely but sticking with French for a moment - Lindberg (1968) by Robert Charlebois & Louise Forestier from Canada - what is this song? I cannot tell but it is compelling.

Ma Beham Nemiresim (1973) by Googoosh from Iran is likewise compelling. She seems to be singing of something important and tragic if only to the singer of the song. It feels exotic and timeless.

Rozy (2013) by Dakh Daughters from Ukraine presents the wild chants and beats of an alternative circus raging for a better world of both free nations and free individuals.

La Zarzamora (1974) by La Grecas from Spain seems to update Romani music with a pysychedelic groove but I cannot say much more as a lot of these tracks are obscure even in an era of instant information access.

Radiooooo also offers something the charts rarely have - instrumentals - and I find some of the best come from Brazil. Summertime (1971) by Rosina da Valenca and Bebe (1972) by Eumir Deodato really are an aural balm.

I lack eloquence in much of this post because music is something that resonates in a way that is difficult for the individual to reduce to words. I also feel this post is a bit short but that is because it takes time to actively pay attention to the data of tracks passing by on Radioooo. Its purpose is for listening and stopping to note names and dates interferes with that. Maybe I will add short paragraphs here from time-to-time.

One more thing Radiooooo lets you do is modify what is played with controls dubbed 'fast' and 'slow' and 'weird'. And yet I find that it is never too frantic and rarely ever mundane. What one gets in summation is a somewhat surreal yet centering musical experience of a past that has never entirely gone but is just around the corner. It is like a space-time cabaret and a wonderful way to explore a whole world and century of music. I use it regularly as a supplement to my own collection.