24th - 26th May 2020
Here he advanced his military career. Starting off as a lowly guard at the once Royal Palace in Zlakalitze (Da Grottengraftunorgy Palatz). He became a trusted friend, confidante and 'supplier' to the then ruler, Prinz Bonke von Sniffe und Gesundheit (since assassinated and not replaced....no volunteers) which secured him fast, if undeserved, promotion in the Lulok armed services. Initially as Chief of Intelligence and Propaganda (left).
Eventually he rose to be Head of the Lulok Armed Services with responsibilities including 'Liaison and Financial Reparations' with all the separatist wealthy and even better armed Mafiosi in the mountains and coastal resorts. He was free to design his own modest uniform (right).
Unfortunately he fell foul of a coup following a late night Party Conference during which he managed to lose his right eye and three fingers after an altercation concerning who was to pay the bill and outstanding bribes. Following this he was forcibly resigned. His valedictory address concluded with the stirring words (roughly translated) "Sod you bastards, I'm off". He retired rapidly to the countryside where he now leads a modest and virtually incognito life.
We took Myk's advice and decided to go on a hike up north through the foothills towards the Lulok Alps with him as our guide. He did warn us that the route, although beautiful and panoramic, contained various dangers such as roving bandits (he was friends with many), infected and aggressive wildlife, poisonous vegetation, perilous bridges, rock falls, dodgy insurance agents, unexploded ordnance, booby traps and anti-personnel mines. He assured us that he knew the safe way. Although his fee seemed rather extortionate we decided to pay up and trust him, as long as he remained reasonably sober. We set off early in the morning and fortunately the weather was fine
Left: N & A studying the map prior to departure. This proved to be an entirely unreliable and almost deliberately misleading document.
Right: We set off up the romantically named "Schaganastirut Casanovia" (Lovers' Walk) amidst the beauty of forested slopes, with a covering of pretty flowers, heather, gorse and used prophylactics.
Left: As we climbed higher the dramatic peaks of the Alps came into view. They had a dusting of snow. At least that was what we thought until Myk pointed out that much of it was a covering of noxious asbestos fall-out from the mines. There is indeed a plentiful covering of snow in the winter, and skiing is permitted if not much enjoyed, indeed not popular at all for reasons I explain later, but becomes slush at this time of year
Right: As expected we came across signs indicating minefields. These are planted in various locations but are moved around by mischief makers and don't necessarily bear much relevance as to where the actual mines are. Indeed, we were told that villagers remove these signs and plant them around their properties to ward off trespassers without the hassle of actually planting mines. Good idea. I'm thinking of doing the same when I get home.
We passed a pretty little hovel (left). The person standing outside who gave us a very cool look was, we were later told, none other than the notorious Max 'Throteslit' Drag, hit man for the local part-time bandit and organised crime supremo, Don Burtoni, 'Capo di Tutti Capi'. Much of the banditry has mutually wiped itself out, but the mountains remain the refuge for the 'Godfathers' (such as Burtoni) of syndicates which operate various 'welfare schemes' and 'recreational medical supplies services' in the larger coastal towns. They are not known as 'Mafiosi' here, but 'Payzüpœûdedmęet Offizerõs' (Community Assistance Officers).
Fortunately Myk has established a good working relationship with most of these gentlemen having protected them when he was a senior army officer. We learnt a lot from Myk.
Right: I must say he took us along some very interesting little pathways. At some point we had to blindfold Nikkla who, as she only then told us, suffers from vertigo.
Left: Rather a startling warning sign at a road crossing.
There have been efforts made to encourage tourism. Skiing in the mountains in winter was intended to be a major attraction, and a run was built. Unfortunately the unpredictable weather, volcanic activity, toxic snow and razor sharp rocks became a bit of an issue. In 2015 a platoon of 30 soldiers was volunteered to do the trial runs, witnessed by the Minister of Tourism, press and a medical team. It took the soldiers a day to get to the top. Minister, press et al waited at the bottom to congratulate them. Of the gallant 30, 2 developed hypothermia on the ascent, 3 were killed on rocks, 4 broke various bones, 1 was caught by a geyser and 5 were never seen again, presumed lost in crevasses. Of those that made it down 6 had developed breathing problems. To cap it all, just as the survivors and 'welcoming' committee were about to leave they were hit by an avalanche. Tourist skiing in the Lulok Alps is on hold for the time being.
Right: At one point we came across this 'zip wire' set-up. Very enterprising. I was tempted to give it a go, but looking over the edge at a 2000' drop I was a bit concerned. It was a short but very fast zip to the roadside about 500 metres away. I asked if it was safe and was told that it had just reopened after the previous 'zipper' had an extra fast run....2000ft to the valley floor. Something had snapped. We tried to get Nikkla to do a test run (blindfolded), but she strugged so much we couldn't get her into the harness.
Curiously there was very little sign of wildlife in the hills. This, we were informed, is because the hunting and shooting season is just coming to an end, and we did hear the sporadic rattle of automatic gunfire in the distance. The season lasts from June 15th to June 1st. As such there is not much that survives and that which does tends to stay well hidden and very quiet. Shooters' targets include anything with four legs, except local pigs, cows, horses and sheep, and often things with two, plus anything that flies, and road traffic signs.
Lulok is home to many endangered species (indeed they all are), including the rare Lulok Four Toed Pigmy Mountain Rabbit (the Wazzat) which you will probably only see on your plate in a restaurant.
We returned by a somewhat more sedate route and got back to Sdrepzyll in time for a refreshing drink (if that is what you can call blistovitse) at the Tavern.
It had been a most invigorating day out.
Tomorrow we intend to travel to the south of the island via the Aztec settlement on the east side. Our destination, hopefully, will be the seaside town of Pollütsic, famous for its beaches and nightlife.
Before I forget, Myk gave me this photo of his 'mate' Don Burtoni (Capo di Tutti Capi) and asked me to pass on his regards, but not his location, if we ever had the honour to meet him.
 |
| Looking north towards the Lulok Alps |
The next day we explored the local surroundings. In the immediate vicinity of Sdrepzyll were the stunning vistas of the freshly harvested beetroot crops (left). Breathtaking in their beauty and variety.
Right: The local marijuana plantations which are so favoured by the spring climate and spaced-out villagers.
Left: Taking the produce to market. The escort sitting on top is heavily armed. The driver is drunk. The horse is stoned.
We were privileged and very lucky to meet up with Myk (on the right) at the village tavern. He was to become our guide, protector and friend over the next few days. He spoke excellent English until becoming incoherent and fell off his bar stool. We learnt quite a lot about his history which I think bears mentioning in some detail.
Myk was trafficked from Mesipia to the UK as a teenager with his 'on the run' parents where, against all the odds as an illegal immigrant, he managed to join the British army as an experimental parachute tester at Aldershot. Actually he thought he had answered an advert for a part-time gardener but when his expendability was discovered he got the parachute job. Being a quickwitted chap and experienced in guerrilla warfare and terrorism as a child, he did rather well in the army rising to the dizzy rank of Lance Corporal and , of course, learnt to speak English. He survived all this but sadly due to some shemozzle with gun-running and the fact that Interpol was onto his parents the family had to do a quick runner again, and hence he arrived in Lulok.
Here he advanced his military career. Starting off as a lowly guard at the once Royal Palace in Zlakalitze (Da Grottengraftunorgy Palatz). He became a trusted friend, confidante and 'supplier' to the then ruler, Prinz Bonke von Sniffe und Gesundheit (since assassinated and not replaced....no volunteers) which secured him fast, if undeserved, promotion in the Lulok armed services. Initially as Chief of Intelligence and Propaganda (left).
Eventually he rose to be Head of the Lulok Armed Services with responsibilities including 'Liaison and Financial Reparations' with all the separatist wealthy and even better armed Mafiosi in the mountains and coastal resorts. He was free to design his own modest uniform (right).Unfortunately he fell foul of a coup following a late night Party Conference during which he managed to lose his right eye and three fingers after an altercation concerning who was to pay the bill and outstanding bribes. Following this he was forcibly resigned. His valedictory address concluded with the stirring words (roughly translated) "Sod you bastards, I'm off". He retired rapidly to the countryside where he now leads a modest and virtually incognito life.
We took Myk's advice and decided to go on a hike up north through the foothills towards the Lulok Alps with him as our guide. He did warn us that the route, although beautiful and panoramic, contained various dangers such as roving bandits (he was friends with many), infected and aggressive wildlife, poisonous vegetation, perilous bridges, rock falls, dodgy insurance agents, unexploded ordnance, booby traps and anti-personnel mines. He assured us that he knew the safe way. Although his fee seemed rather extortionate we decided to pay up and trust him, as long as he remained reasonably sober. We set off early in the morning and fortunately the weather was fine
Left: N & A studying the map prior to departure. This proved to be an entirely unreliable and almost deliberately misleading document.
Right: We set off up the romantically named "Schaganastirut Casanovia" (Lovers' Walk) amidst the beauty of forested slopes, with a covering of pretty flowers, heather, gorse and used prophylactics.
Right: As expected we came across signs indicating minefields. These are planted in various locations but are moved around by mischief makers and don't necessarily bear much relevance as to where the actual mines are. Indeed, we were told that villagers remove these signs and plant them around their properties to ward off trespassers without the hassle of actually planting mines. Good idea. I'm thinking of doing the same when I get home.
We passed a pretty little hovel (left). The person standing outside who gave us a very cool look was, we were later told, none other than the notorious Max 'Throteslit' Drag, hit man for the local part-time bandit and organised crime supremo, Don Burtoni, 'Capo di Tutti Capi'. Much of the banditry has mutually wiped itself out, but the mountains remain the refuge for the 'Godfathers' (such as Burtoni) of syndicates which operate various 'welfare schemes' and 'recreational medical supplies services' in the larger coastal towns. They are not known as 'Mafiosi' here, but 'Payzüpœûdedmęet Offizerõs' (Community Assistance Officers).
Fortunately Myk has established a good working relationship with most of these gentlemen having protected them when he was a senior army officer. We learnt a lot from Myk.
Right: I must say he took us along some very interesting little pathways. At some point we had to blindfold Nikkla who, as she only then told us, suffers from vertigo.
Left: Rather a startling warning sign at a road crossing.
There have been efforts made to encourage tourism. Skiing in the mountains in winter was intended to be a major attraction, and a run was built. Unfortunately the unpredictable weather, volcanic activity, toxic snow and razor sharp rocks became a bit of an issue. In 2015 a platoon of 30 soldiers was volunteered to do the trial runs, witnessed by the Minister of Tourism, press and a medical team. It took the soldiers a day to get to the top. Minister, press et al waited at the bottom to congratulate them. Of the gallant 30, 2 developed hypothermia on the ascent, 3 were killed on rocks, 4 broke various bones, 1 was caught by a geyser and 5 were never seen again, presumed lost in crevasses. Of those that made it down 6 had developed breathing problems. To cap it all, just as the survivors and 'welcoming' committee were about to leave they were hit by an avalanche. Tourist skiing in the Lulok Alps is on hold for the time being.
Right: At one point we came across this 'zip wire' set-up. Very enterprising. I was tempted to give it a go, but looking over the edge at a 2000' drop I was a bit concerned. It was a short but very fast zip to the roadside about 500 metres away. I asked if it was safe and was told that it had just reopened after the previous 'zipper' had an extra fast run....2000ft to the valley floor. Something had snapped. We tried to get Nikkla to do a test run (blindfolded), but she strugged so much we couldn't get her into the harness.
Curiously there was very little sign of wildlife in the hills. This, we were informed, is because the hunting and shooting season is just coming to an end, and we did hear the sporadic rattle of automatic gunfire in the distance. The season lasts from June 15th to June 1st. As such there is not much that survives and that which does tends to stay well hidden and very quiet. Shooters' targets include anything with four legs, except local pigs, cows, horses and sheep, and often things with two, plus anything that flies, and road traffic signs.
Lulok is home to many endangered species (indeed they all are), including the rare Lulok Four Toed Pigmy Mountain Rabbit (the Wazzat) which you will probably only see on your plate in a restaurant.
We returned by a somewhat more sedate route and got back to Sdrepzyll in time for a refreshing drink (if that is what you can call blistovitse) at the Tavern.
It had been a most invigorating day out.
Tomorrow we intend to travel to the south of the island via the Aztec settlement on the east side. Our destination, hopefully, will be the seaside town of Pollütsic, famous for its beaches and nightlife.
Before I forget, Myk gave me this photo of his 'mate' Don Burtoni (Capo di Tutti Capi) and asked me to pass on his regards, but not his location, if we ever had the honour to meet him.
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