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blueberrypossum · 3 years

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The Daily Hardship of Loving You

Dastardly Danny x reader

Danny is love, Danny is life. Who wouldn’t want to be saved by this wonderful rat?

This is another trade with @greaser-wolf ( so freaking excited for this trade man it’s gonna be amazing!!). Part of this scene is from the movie Suicide Squad, where Joker comes in to save Harely (btw I am not comparing Danny to Joker, Danny will treat you like gold, not like trash). I love writing action scenes and partners working together and supporting each other!! This my weakness. Hope you guys enjoy!

⚠️WARNING: ⚠️This fanfic will have explicit words and violence, viewer discretion is advised. Also a lot of angst!

Big Mama’s words will be colored green

Word Bank:

Zoot Suit- A certain style of a suit

Tawdry- made out of cheap or poor quality

Pennies from heaven- Easy money

Passing the buck- Placing the blame on someone or something

The crowd cheered and booed around you as you stepped in the Battle Nexus sitting area, the foul air of sweat and snacks from the concession stand filled your nose as you took in the fight below you. The atmosphere around you was warm and rigid as you eyed the crowd, your eyes landing on Big Mama on her throne, her six red eyes darting back and forth.

Your head turned to look down at the fight below, the two yokai’s fighting were at each other’s throats, their weapons clashing against each other’s as dirt clouds danced around them.

This was only the first match, you and the boys had the whole night to do this plan perfectly.

You slowly turned yourself around and away from the yokais, the keys you had swiped jiggled in your pocket as you went down the stairs.

For weeks you had been working for Big Mama, just like the Mud Dogz, but you were a shiftly one and was able to gain her trust, the keys to her vault below the Battle Nexus practically falling into your hands. Of course you knew about the vault she had in her hotel, but Gus guarded that one like the loyal dog he was, but you knew he couldn’t be at two places at once.

You were on the first level now and took a hard right, your eyes falling on the three figures that kept their bodies within the shadows. You came to a halt next to them, your hand now wrapped around the keys as you threw them over to one of the shadows, his hand instantly coming up to catch them.

“Guessing you guys didn’t have much trouble?” You asked as the dark figures finally revealed themselves. The infamous Loathsome Leonard, Dastardly Danny, and Malicious Mickey came out in front of you, each having their own signature shit-eating grin. Leonard twirled the keys in his hands as they followed you to the basement door, “not at all, Big Mama’s guards don’t really know the difference between criminal and worker,” he joked.

You moved over so then he could unlock the door, your body slipping over to Danny as the eel and the ogre took the first few steps down into the underground.

“Where’s Big Mama?”

“Still sitting on her throne, watching as her subjects tear each other apart,” you laughed out as you trailed your fingertips against the brick wall, the indents and curves in the wall pushed against your hands. The tall rat took a hold of your hand as the stairs started to get steeper and the only source of light was from torches.

“I really don’t understand the whole torch in a secret basement thing.”

“It’s tacky.”

“I would’ve done glow worms.”

“But they wouldn’t stay in one place.”

“Exactly. It’s unexpected.”

You rolled your eyes as you all finally made it to the last step, stones surrounded you instead of dark bricks and a long hallway strolled in front of you. Danny stood slightly behind you, his thumb gently sliding over yours to show that he was still there. He didn’t say it, but he honestly didn’t want you to go on this mission. You were basically walking over landmines for them to get the keys to Big Mama’s secret vault, but if they were caught down here then you would be punished too, possibly far worse than the Mud Dogz since you had been working closely with the spider yokai.

The thought of it created a bad taste in his mouth and he quickly told his mind to think of something else, to think how after this he was going to take you to one of the best restaurants in town and buy you an expensive outfit to show you off in. His mind wandered to what kind of outfit would look best on you until you and the two other yokai’s came to a harsh halt.

All four of you had walked down the hallway and had come to a hard left where two yokai guards stood, behind them a huge metal vault door stood silently.

You eyed the two yokai, your minding working to see if they would be an easy or hard fight.

The rat laid his head on top of yours as you both continued to stare, a sneer rising against his face.

“Jeez, Big Mama must be desperate for new recruits to have two geezer’s watching over her dough,” he whispered, his breath and whiskers slightly tickled the top of your head and you gently shook him off, mouthing sorry as he gave you puppy dog eyes.

Leonard looked at the ancient weapons the yokai’s were holding and then back at the gang.

“Alright, Danny, you’re going to go up to them and distract them-”

“Hold up, why me?”

“Because you got that suit, make ya look like the richest one out of all of us.”

“Well it is a zoot suit. I’m also an ace at persuading people.”

You let out a tch as he puffed out his collar, his eyes falling onto you.

“Mickey and I will come up when you got them distracted and then Y/N will open the vault up with the passcode.”

The eel next to you snapped a bolt between his nubs as you gave a small nod, your hand landing gently on Danny’s back before he got up.

“Hey, be careful.”

He gave you a charming smile as he took the hand that was on him and gave a light kiss, his whiskers once again tickled your skin.

“Always, love.” And then he came out from the corner and headed over to the two guards, his voice flaring throughout the basement like a singer at a concert.

You could barely make out what he was saying to the yokai’s, but you could make out the words clothes, Big Mama, and tawdry. Of course he would spark up a conversation with those two about fashion.

A minute barely passed as Leonard and Mickey walked away from you, their bodys sticking to the walls like glue as they stalked over to the distracted yokais. They pounced right before the two guards had time to react, Mickey taking out one with his electric shock and Leonard busted one in the back of his head, both of them falling as Danny ended a corny one-liner about them.

One of them smacked up against the keypad that was behind them, sending off a loud alarm in the tunnels.

You sprinted behind them and quickly pulled one of the guard’s keycards, scanning it and quickly typing in the code to turn off the system and the alarm.

“Do you think anyone heard that?”

“No, and Big Mama won’t get a warning about it. It has to go off for a long while before she gets notified about it.”

The Mud Dogz let out a relief sigh as you pushed the vault door open and you entered into a golden palace. Piles of gold, cash, unicorns, and armor that looked like they were dipped into liquid diamonds were all placed in long rows. Each one of your mouths dropped at the beautiful sight, Mickey the only one squealing in glee as he dove into one of the many loose piles of unicorns and cash.

You didn’t know that Big Mama had this much cash, but it didn’t surprise you either; with her cheating on the Battle Nexus and bleeding customers and opponents dry, you wondered if she had multiple vaults hidden within the city.

Your ears perked up as Danny let out one of his roaring laughs as he dug his fingers into one of the several piles of golden coins.

“OOOH boys we’ve hit the jackpot! It’s practically pennies from heaven!” He cheered out and then he wrapped himself around you, planting a tender kiss against your lips. You took in his sign of affection and kissed him back, your middle finger flying up as Leonard and Mickey let out fake gagging noises. Danny broke the kiss for just a second to whisper against your lips.

“It’s all thanks to you, doll.”

You let out a shy giggle as you felt your face go red with appreciation, you could never get used to how Danny treated you, it had only been a few months of dating and the yokai made you feel more respected and loved than any kind of royalty. His hand stayed wrapped around your hip as Leonard pulled out the infinite small vacuum he bought in Witch Town, the magical machine swiftly sucking up every last drop of gold, silver, and diamond until there was nothing left but the afterdust of the treasure.

The battle above you roared and stomped louder as another fighter was taken down by the champion, you were honestly surprised that none of the wealth done here was painted with blood.

You couldn’t help but feel good about this, even proud. You craved for appreciation from Danny, from his friends, to the point that it almost blinded you from the trouble ahead. As Leonard placed the vacuum back in-between his shoulders, you all made your way back to the entrance of the safe.While Danny gave you his hand to help you up, Mickey looked behind with a nervous smile.

“Ah, there were two guards, right?”

“Yes.”

“Oh that’s bad.”

You looked over from your place inside the door and only saw the yokai Mickey had knocked out, while the other one had disappeared.

“Ah, I say we make it like dogs and run!” Danny ordered and you all quickly leapt off the safe door and sprinted down the hallway, your feet barely touching the ground as you kept up with the Mud Dogz. When you made it to the door, you weren’t at all surprised when the knob didn’t give in to your force and you looked down at Leonard.

He got the hint and threw the bundle of keys back to you and you unlocked the door, your fingers barely pushing up against it so you could peek out. There was no sign of any yokai or Big Mama and you briskly got away from the door, the weight of the Mud Doz trying to peek out as well almost drowning you.

They each gave their own sheepish smile as you glared at them and continued to look around. This was...strange. The only thing you could think of was that the guard went straight up to Big Mama to warn her, which meant you and the guys were gonna to be in deep shit in about five minutes.

The crowd was barely a buzz in your ears as you followed them through the building, the lights from the Battle Nexus painting inself across your body like lights.

The four of you were almost to the exit of the Battle Nexus when a large guard came in front of your path, your feet coming to a slamming halt before you could run into the bug yokai. You took a step back as he took a step forward, your body instantly bending down as he swiped at you.

More bug guards came around almost every hidden corner, giving each member of the group someone to fight. But, more and more kept coming, until you were surrounded. Each of you let out a litter of cuss words as you tried to push past, but there was no way out. Danny stood next to you, his arm barely lifted up as a form of protection. Fear screamed its way into your blood, your head racking through itself at how this plan had failed, how this could possibly be your fault for not double-checking things. And when Big Mama rounded the corner, you wondered if you would make it out alive.

Danny couldn’t help but swallow as the spider yokai walked in, her long legs creaking against the concrete floor. His tail encircled itself around your ankles as Big Mama’s henchmen came closer, their eyes like daggers stabbing it each and every one of them. He knew he should’ve told you to stay out of this one, he knew that something always bad happened to them, and now you were caught in the middle.

“Ah! If it isn’t my wonderful yokai’s, the Mud Dogs. And my new assistant,” the female cooed as she switched to her human form. She circled around you, as if you were prey and she was a predator, even though all four of you towered over her with her being human. The anger that was held within her eyes blazed into you as she stalked over to you, her finger wiggling in your face as if you were a child.

“Now, now, aren’t you a little disappointment,” she hissed, a slim finger curled under your chin and you quickly shook it off, your eyes narrowing at the woman. Big Mama only let out a rough chuckle as she snapped her fingers and you were separated from the Mud Dogz, your body barely having time to react as you gripped onto Danny’s hand. Danny instantly reached for you, the strength in his hand curled into your slipping hand as the guards came in between you two.

“Hey! Let go!”

“You keep yer slimy hands off of them!”

Leonard and Mickey lunged to help Danny keep ahold of you, their hands batting off the bug’s arms from the rat’s suit. You let out a cry as you felt the rat’s hand slip out of yours and the bug interlocked their arms around yours and slowly started to pull you away, Big Mama following behind them.

“Finish them for me, I’ll deal with this one.”

Anxiety raced through Danny’s body as they placed their hands around you, dragging you away from them, from him. He couldn’t stop himself from watching you struggle in their grip, small grunts hissing out of your mouth as you were pulled further and further away from him.

Rage didn’t even cover what coursed through his body, the blood within his veins almost boiled to the point of a fever as his nails dug into his hands. His eyes turned to Leonard and Mickey, and both of them looked at each other, because for a split second, they believed they saw murder within the rat’s eyes. Danny gave his friend’s one look and Leonard and Mickey nodded to the silent order that the rat gave and they each turned towards one of the guards.

You could barely see past the broadening shoulders of the soldiers, but you heard the brawling of fists and the heavy breaths from a fight. You struggled within the hold and then stomped your foot against the guard’s foot, your arm coming free to slam into the other guard’s face. The pain that pulsed through your hand was dull as you turned around-

And watched as Danny’s limpless body hit the ground with a deadly thud.

For the first time, your mind went blank. You couldn’t focus on Leonard or Mickey or anything else around you except for Danny. He wasn’t getting up, why wasn’t he getting up, he had to get up.

“DANNY!” You called for him, Big Mama’s arms capturing you as you tried to race over him. His name drilled out of your mouth like a siren. You’ve seen him get knocked out, beaten up in a fight, but not like this, the way his body slammed into the ground was an inhuman sound that burned your ears. Your arms swatted against Big Mama’s resistance as you continued to wait, you waited for him to wake up, to give a signal that he was fine, just one flick of your ear Danny!

“Danny! Danny get up!!” You wailed to him and you could feel the clear liquid spill from your eyes. Big Mama changed back into her yokai form and spat onto you, cobwebs spilling over your wrists and mouth. But that didn’t stop you calling for him, reaching for him over the spider’s shoulder as she took you away. You thrashed around in the grip, sobs now clogging your throat with no release as the guard you had hit lifted you up and turned the corner, your eyes never leaving Danny as you were dragged away.

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You blinked a few times as you took in the bright lights of the Battle Nexus. You believed it had been a few hours, but you honestly didn’t know. There were no more battles and the stands were empty, it was just you, a few guards, and Big Mama looming over you.

Your eyes felt raw with no moisture and your body went weak everytime they made you stand.

Your mind was still empty, even with the female spider talking your ear off with her weird words. Your legs ached from sitting on them and you could feel exhaustion come over you like a storm. Her webs were sticky and tangled within your hands, almost as if it was sinking into your skin.

If you were caught, what about the others? Wouldn't they be next to you getting the “big” talk from Big Mama. Or maybe there was no one left to talk to.

The images of Danny flashed through your head and you tried your hardest to keep the tears at bay. You didn’t know you could be so emotional over someone, but he was Danny, he was your Danny. You hated your mind for thinking was.

You felt heat vibrate against your face as the spider backhanded you, your eyes closing hard as you took in your surroundings and the pain.

“Were you even listening?!”

“Sorry, I don’t speak dog.”

Big Mama smiled at you and lifted her hand, your face scrunched up to prepare for the blow. But the woman turned around, her fingers instead messed with her outfit as she smoothed out the wrinkles.

“You won’t be saying that when you become a chew toy for my new Battle Nexus Champions,” she chirped, a wicked smile on her face as she walked away, the echo of her high heels ringing in your ears.

You didn’t listen as the woman gave specific orders about you to the guards, how once dawn comes, you will be nothing more than table scraps.

Maybe this is how it’s supposed to go. You were nothing more than a lying thief, you went behind yokai’s backs and would tear them apart until there was nothing left but the money in their pockets. Maybe your death will be quick, maybe Danny is waiting somewhere for you, it’s almost like you could hear him calling your name.

Wait a damn minute, you could hear it.

As the bug guards walked towards you, a knife struck the ground, barely a inch away from one of the yokai’s feet. You looked up to see one of the large flying birds that was used as transportation in the Hidden City, it’s bat-like wings flying effortlessly above the Battle Nexus as it came into view.

Music blasted into the circular arena and you quickly rolled forward with it, aiming the webs perfectly with the blade as it tore your bondage into two. The guards next to you went flying towards the wall, the sound pushing them against it. Once free, your hand pulled the knife out and raced over to the nearest thing to protection, a large shield with half of it buried into the dirt of the arena.

You gave a swift peek from behind the shield and watched as sound waves were perfectly aimed towards the guards that were rushing in, not even giving the yokai time to protect themselves. Confusion jittered inside of you as you finally looked up at who was on the birds.

You could make out the band members of DIGG and you could recognize the singer, Prairie Dog, singing her heart out into the mic as her band members played their instruments alongside her.

Big Mama came running into the arena and then was slammed into the wall by the bass of the music, the uncomfortable look on her face was unforgettable.

“Y/N!”

Your body instantly perked up. Your head poked out from behind the shield as you looked for him. It had to be him, you heard it, you knew that only one voice could say your name like that, to call your name as if it was a melody.

There he was, standing alongside Leonard and Mickey, beaten up and swollen, but as you watched his chest rise and fall and as he smiled when his eyes laid upon you brought everything back to you.

As ideas and thoughts raced through your head like a car track, you came out of your hiding spot to fully show yourself to him.

When you finally showed yourself to him, Danny swore that he felt like a whole new man. After you were taken away, Leonard and Mickey fought off the rest of the guards and dragged Danny out of the Battle Nexus and went to the closest place they could think of: The DIGGS apartment. Once he woke up and treated his wounds, all six of them came up with a plan to get you back, and after stealing a few birds from the stables, it seemed that they came just in time to get you.

One side of your face was red and a dried up blood trail went down from the corner of your mouth. But you stood tall, you stood proud to show him that you were okay, and that you were ready to get the hell out of there with him.

The sound of you screaming for him will never leave his head, for years to come he will think about it, even now just seeing you the flashes he barely saw during the fight when you were taken away crossed his mind. It was as if his heart was being scorched into charcoal.

Danny was known for holding the best promises, and once he got you back, he will promise you that you would never feel like that ever again.

And when you wake up in the morning after all of this, he will remind you that he is still there, and that he was not going to go anywhere at any time, not when he had you.

You had to find a way to get up to him, even with the music blaring the guards away, you noticed they were starting to break against the mold of the music. Then you saw the rope that Danny threw down, landing perfectly in the middle of the Battle Nexus.

“Come on, darling! I’m waitin for ya!”

You released a heavy sigh as you sprinted towards the rope, the wave blasts of music barely missing you as you felt the guards chase after you. Every fiber in you was being burned but you made yourself go faster, and once Big Mama started to spit webs at you, you made yourself do twists and turns to dodge them. She kept calling your name, saying what she will do to you will be far worse if you ran, but you continued onward.

Her words no longer mattered to you, nothing else mattered but one thing as you jumped onto the rope and out of one of the guard’s reach.

Him.

Leonard sent the bird up and flew you above the large coliseum, the DIGG band following gradually behind, giving out howls and thanking the guards and Big Mama for being a good audience.

Your fingers and waist were wrapped around the rope as you were taken over the city, you and the guys waved good-bye to the band DIGG as they flew back to their apartment and the ogre steered the bird towards home. You took in the musty and polluted breeze and looked up to see Danny looking down at you.

“Aren’t ya gonna climb up?”

“And risk falling? No thanks.”

He opened his mouth to answer back but you interrupted him by saying, “and don’t say you’ll catch me because last time that happened I fell on the floor while we were dancing.”

“Oh, that was one time, doll.”

“And it will be the only time I will get off this rope when we land.”

He let out a breezy chuckle as you situated his hat back on his head and then Mickey came into view, waving his left nub at you.

“Hiya Y/N! Did ya miss us?”

A faint laugh rumbled in your throat as you looked up at the Mud Dogz, at your boyfriend and your friends. Just mere hours ago you were crying, believing that they were all dead, that Danny was gone. And here you are, soaring over the city, a new enemy to track you down and an infinite pocket full of treasure. There were new tears sparkling in your eyes as you looked up at them.

“Of course I did.”

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Danny carefully wiped the cut that was on your arm outside of his apartment. Leonard and Mickey were counting and almost rolling in the money they had taken out of the vacuum. You had taken a shower once you got there, cleaning off the dirt and sweat, your new wounds stung against the hot water. After it, your boyfriend called you to the balcony of their apartment to clean your wounds in peace, but you knew it was to get you two alone.

You winced against his touch as he placed a binding around it, the alcohol burned into your body as he tugged your sleeve down.

He placed a tender kiss on your shoulder as a way to say sorry and started to examine another wound on your leg when you finally spoke.

“I thought you were gone.”

The rat paused in his place, the alcohol wipe in his hand had gone stiff. You looked away when he looked down at you, your eyes gliding over the hanging lights of the town, the liquid gold dripping over you and consuming you.

“I know that this life is dangerous, we’ve had our fair share of beat downs and injuries,” you commented, the laughs of your friends barely reaching your ear as you continued.

“But when I saw you go down, I thought that was it. No more heists, no more dates, no more seeing you every day, no more hearing your voice or dancing in the kitchen at one in the morning.” He held up a hand to calm you, but you continued, new tears spilling from your eyes.

“We never got to get married, to have kids, that I would never get to see you become a father and it killed me to the point that I accepted that Big Mama was going to-”

“Stop.”

You closed your mouth as Danny lifted your head up, his long fingers gently curling around your chin and you let out a heavy sigh as you dropped your weight into it, taking in his touch, the warmth in his hands. He put the medical stuff down and scooted himself closer to you, the shiny tears that shot down your face continued as his other hand ran through your hair and he kissed you.

Every kiss from Danny was different. There were the kisses before work, they were quick and meaningful, the kisses during good news, how he held you without effort and his mouth gave you goosebumps, as if he was saying good job within the kiss. The kisses in the bedroom were deep and he hunted for your lips every second to feel your moans, to taste his name on your mouth. And then this kiss, the kiss he gave when you came back to the apartment beaten up or when you both had a fight and he would crawl in bed, his tail lightly wrapping around you as you cave in and dashed into his arms, entangling your mouth with his.

It honestly hurt that he kissed you like this, the importance behind each one filled you up with love, with something you never had while on the streets, the one thing you’ll always be greedy for, not money or the adrenaline of being a thief, it was him.

When you separated, you swore that his eyes were watery, but he bent back down to go back to work on your wound. After he banaged up the last gash he turned back to you, his hands going into yours as he carelessly brought his face close to yours. His comforting scent slowed down your senses as his whiskers once again brushed across your face.

“I’m not going anywhere, doll. Not without you. So, don’t be worrying about marriage and children and stop passing the buck onto ya. I’m here with you, I promise.”

“Good, I need at least someone to handle these emotional outbursts.”

“Well, I do know a yokai that would do the job perfectly. He’s tall, got a tail, and wears a suit that makes everyone swoon.”

“Oh he sounds charming, can’t wait to meet him.”

“Me too, sweetheart.”

You giggled into his whiskers as his arm wrapped around you. As you got comfortable under his arm, Danny finally felt his body loosen up. He didn’t know that you felt like that, of course he knew that you cared, that you worried, but when the tears started to form and how each fear about him started to bubble up and out your throat.

He never knew his heart could break like that.

You were a whole new significance to him. He has had lovers, but no one like you, no one has stuck around as long as you, no one has talked about marriage or children with him. Even with being a criminal, Danny still wanted a family someday, and to hear that you wanted one with him was now going to be his reason to get up everyday, to get enough money until you both have enough to live without worry. Images of living somewhere with just you and your children came over him and he brought you closer.

You both still had a long way to go, your futures weren’t drawn-out and he feared that you wouldn’t be in his life in the long-run. But with how you curled into his touch and planted a kiss against his neck and then settled yourself into his chest, he knew he would fight for you. After today, he would fight for you and with you to reach what you wanted: Happiness.

#rottmnt #rottmnt mud dogs x reader #rottmnt mud dogs #tmnt #rottmnt dastardly danny x reader #rottmnt dastardly danny #rottmnt danny x reader #Spotify #rottmnt mud dogz #rottmnt mud dogz dastardly danny

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blackswaneuroparedux · 4 years

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Anonymous asked: I really enjoy your cultured posts and especially about wine. I never knew that Roger Scruton wrote about wine! You tantalisingly talked in bits and pieces in past posts about your chateau vineyard in France. I understand why you protect your privacy but can you say a bit more. I was also hoping as a wine connoisseur you can explain to me what wine sommeliers in restaurants mean about wine having ‘terroir’? Are they just making stuff up to look down on us poor saps or is there something to it?

Your experience with the sommelier reminded me of the classic British television comedy, ‘Fawlty Towers’, where John Cleese’s perpetually hard pressed hotel owner, Basil Fawlty, says with his usual sarcasm, “I can certainly see that you know your wine. Most of the guests who stay here wouldn’t know the difference between Bordeaux and Claret.”

I’m sorry that you had from what I can surmise bad experiences with sniffy sommeliers when it came to appreciating wine. I have had one or two depressing experiences myself but it’s important to call out such rudeness so that others don’t have their dining experience spoiled. In Paris at least I can honestly say the spectre of the rude sommelier is dying out - and I have eaten in many great restaurants where I’ve had very lovely experience chatting with sommeliers versed in their wines.

These days sommeliers are positively jumping for joy if you show any kind of wine literacy. Don’t forget these men (and women) have worked extremely hard to hone a refined sense of their craft and they just want to share that knowledge and wisdom with you - otherwise it goes to waste.

Everyone likes to be appreciated and so I go out of my way to listen and appreciate their recommendations based on what I like or if I am looking to pair something interesting with the food I have ordered. If I don’t know I just ask. Indeed often I do know but I still ask because I’m curious to know if there is a better choice of wine and also because I want to learn. There is no shame in asking. Remember they are there to guide you to have the best dining experience in their restaurant. So engage with them with kind civility and your palate will thank you. And tip generously (if applicable).

I do indeed have a chateau vineyard in southern France - south of Paris anyway. But it’s not just mine. I invested in a dream that belonged to my two cousins who are the real wine connoisseurs. Out of their request for discretion I don’t talk too much about it here on this blog (they follow my blog). I can say that I admire both my cousins hugely (I get brownie points for saying that) for their hard work, risk taking, passion, and their artisanal flair.

Both my cousins gave up lucrative corporate careers to follow their dream to owning and managing a small vineyard. In this case it was bought from the family of my cousin’s French wife; her very old traditional family had the vineyard for generations. They had fought off French revolutionaries who wanted to burn down their chateau because of their old roots but they managed to prevail and survive. They barely survived the Great French Wine Blight (the Phylloxera infestations) that was a severe blight of the mid-19th century that decimated many of the vineyards across France. But times change. It’s not a romantic business but an unforgiving one. So rather than sell up to rapacious Chinese investors and other outsiders they instead sold it to us.

I have my day job and that keeps me extremely busy. My two cousins (and their French wives) manage the whole vineyard with other hired staff. They make all the decisions and I do the drinking (for quality control purposes, naturally). I help out when I can. This could be from business marketing advice or attending a few wine merchant trade shows. I often go to Shanghai and Hong Kong for my corporate work and my Chinese is passable; and so I help out my cousins who might be out there when I am there too. In fact one of my cousins was out in Shanghai just before the Wuham Covid 19 outbreak in China; thankfully he got out fine and didn’t suffer any symptoms after his trip.

More fun for me is actually spending time on the vineyard. Call me weird but I really do look forward to rolling up my sleeves and getting down in the dirt. It’s incredibly back breaking work - pruning or harvesting - but very rewarding because we’re all in it together. The camaraderie is immense.

I love escaping into the countryside and I just enjoy the easy bonhomie and companionship of my cousins and their French partners for whom wine is a passion and a way of life. Besides learning a lot more about wine, I also get to run, cycle, and hike in the surrounding hills, a world away from crazy city life.

Like many vineyards in France (and indeed vineyards around the world) the Coronavirus has made it an even more challenging environment to produce and sell wine. We did a lot of business in China and now, like many others, we’ve taken a hit. But we’re not down for the count. We’re fortunate that we are more robust with what we have in place. But like everyone else uncertainty of the future with an expected recession means we need to dig in deep and weather the oncoming storms. But we’ll be fine.

So what is this odd French word, ‘terroir’?

The French have this expression they use when it is clear they are tasting a true terroir wine - "un goût de terroir" - a taste of the place.

Terroir is a largely misused term, though the general understanding of the term of terroir is correct that it refers to the place of where the wine is made. Terroir is not something you pick up after tasting a few wines from one vineyard. It's more complicated than that, which of course makes it harder to use. Which is no fun, because people really like saying fancy French words when talking about wine.

A classical definition of terroir would be something along the lines of this: terroir is the aggregate factors that affect the physical vineyard site: geography, geology, weather, and any other relatively unique environmental conditions that might affect the process or final quality of the fruit.

Put simply terroir is the combination of micro-climate, soil, sun exposure, weather conditions and other environmental influences on wine. To Europeans in general and to the French and Italians in particular, terroir is a key indicator of quality in wine.

The best way to understand what what terroir means is to think of terroir as a different accent - an English accent sounds different from a Scottish accent which sounds different from a Welsh accent. Although the English language is the same, these accents have their own sense of place. Once you are fluent in the language of wine these different accents start to become a lot more pronounced. These ‘wine accents’ echo the terroir where the grapes were grown and the wines were made.

So what does this mean in practice? Take the Pinot Noir grape. Pinot Noir is a notoriously difficult grape to grow because it is very fussy with climate. With the grape being so fussy it is remarkable that the grape can be grown in many parts of the world. Its home is in Bourgogne (Burgundy), France, and yet the grape is grown successfully in Germany (where it's called Spatburgunder), Italy, United States, New Zealand and Australia, among others. So while Pinot Noir is a very fussy grape, it can grow in different climates. It's just the the way it expresses itself can be vastly different. This starts with fruit, whereby it will express a wide range from red fruits like cranberry (cooler climates) right through to black fruits like plum (warmer climates).

The key is the soil - and the sweat and blood that goes into cultivating it.

Soils contain a huge array of types of rock, decomposed rock, and organic materials, in a seemingly infinite array of mixes of topsoil, subsoil, and bedrock. Grape vines tend to grow vigorously and this causes a tendency toward better wines emerging from counterintuitive places - places with relatively poor soils. Too many nutrients and too much water near the surface and the vines will not push down deeply into the ground, seeking out what it needs to live. The belief is, if it does so it will find a more complex variety of nutrients that lead to better, more nuanced wines.

Soil, however, is not the only facet that gives us a full sense of what terroir means.

It is not enough to have a great mix of soils. Vines grown for grapes have a range on Earth in which they will ripen. Champagne, for example, is near the northern ripening limit for growing grapes — around the 49th parallel. They usually do not achieve anywhere near full ripeness nor do they want it - they need lots of acidity - so a northern location works well for their purposes. Too far south, however, and relentless sun and warmth will yield over ripened, jammy, sometimes stewed tasting fruit, lacking acidity and possessing searing levels of alcohol, at times. So the parallel on which the vines are planted is important.

Next, prevailing weather patterns in the region, such as adequate, but not typically heavy rain is necessary. The further north the vineyard site, the more that frosts and hail will likely be factors in varietal planting decisions, as well as harvesting. Achieving full ripeness before vinification is generally the goal for winemakers, but in certain climates the likelihood of sudden rain and weather changes which would dilute or damage the fruit, all go into the perception of the terroir.

Where the vines are planted, even within a commune in Burgundy, can prove very important for several of the reasons listed above: a southeast facing slope in the Côtes de Nuits, for example, provides a poor soil (meaning a good soil for wine grapes,) making the roots grow down deep into limestone, searching for nutrients. The top of the slope to the vineyard's back creates a microclimate and gives a small rain shadow effect, potentially dropping a major portion of rain on the western slope away from the quickly-harvesting vignerons on the other side, before their crop becomes diluted or destroyed. Not to say it always works out this way, because it does not. The point here is that the position within the mesoclimate and even microclimate is important.

Further, the angle or aspect toward the sun in our example is tremendously important. In our example, facing southeast gives the grapes a higher average number of hours per day to ripen in the sun, without getting the stronger, sometimes-harsher evening sun directly. When there is rain, rot can be a problem which leads to yet another factor - slope. A well-drained soil is very important, and altitude is a factor, which will lead to variation throughout a vineyard on such a slope.

Finally, a very important factor in terroir that is not always mentioned is the hand of man.

In the local customs for wine growing, winemaking, cuisine around those wines, and traditions sometimes dating back thousands of years, there emerges a tendency to understand what works well in the local soil and climate. Based on those ideas, certain decisions are made in the cellars that nudge the wine in the direction of one style or another. Decisions can be made that completely mask - destroy - the sense of terroir. Yet decisions are made, nonetheless. They do influence the final product.

Two producers owning parts of the same few hectares of land produce products of two wildly different qualities. There are decisions to be made of using wild yeasts or cultivated yeasts, steel tanks or oak barrels, the type(s) of oak, where it is from, the amount of toasting.

A poor vineyard manager can plant vines in impeccable terroir, but fail miserably in their ability to farm the grapes appropriately, even assuming they planted the right grapes for that terroir. Equally, you can give an inexperienced winemaker the best grapes from the best terroir and he is still very likely to make a mediocre wine at best.

Now, this isn't to say that a great winemaker can take substandard grapes from a poor region and turn them into great wine. But it takes a knowledgable and experienced winemaker to make the best of the spectacular grapes that world-class terroir and impeccable farming technique provides.

So all in all, I would say that terroir, vineyard manager and winemaker are equally as important and there can be no weak links in that equation if quality wine is to be produced.

The point is that all of these factors affect the wine. The best winemakers are artisans who work hard to let the land and vines speak. Over time, some places on Earth have been identified as having very high potential to produce outstanding, unique wines that sing with a voice like no other. That is terroir.

Music is like wine. We appreciate different composers and their pieces more as we understand more of the context of each piece.

Most wine drinkers, no matter their level of knowledge and sophistication, are on a similar path of evolving understanding. Each mouthful whose flavours and aromas we drink, each bottle label we unconsciously imprint in our memory, each line-item on a wine list that we select for the evening’s meal is another volume in our own library of experience, and determines how we will experience the next. The more wine we drink and the more we learn, the better context we have to evaluate (or enjoy) every future glass. So wine drinking is not a race nor is there a prize. You go at your own pace. It’s your own journey of self-discovery. Ignore the pretentious twattery that so often hinders the enjoyment of good wine.

May I add wine enjoys companionship. It makes love to fine food and good conversation. Yes, wine can be drunk on its own but it is more than just a balm to the soul. It is best appreciated when shared or paired - as one might with a cigar and a whisky - with good food. In the words of the late Paul Bocuse, who was a celebrated Michelin starred chef and father of French Haute Cuisine, “La véritable cuisine sera toujours celle du terroir. En France le beurre, la crème et le vin en constitueront toujours les bases.”

Thanks for your question

#question #ask #wine #personal #vineyard #drinking #sommelier #wine making #terroir #french #france #grape #culture #food #life #family

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preraphaelitepunk · 5 years

Text

Fictober19 Day 19: Of Quiet Contentment and Fainting Couches

Prompt #19: Yes, I admit it, you were right.

Fandom: Good Omens

Characters: Aziraphale, Crowley

Rating: Teen

Warnings: None

On AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/20843936/chapters/50185667

Everyday rituals had always been soothing to Aziraphale. He wasn’t sure whether this had something to do with his angelic origins or derived more from his tendency toward anxiety under stress, but there was just something utterly lovely about small routines interspersed throughout the day: teatime, wine time, the cozy fuss that was settling in with a good book, his unnecessary reading glasses, and some nibbles.

Right now it was time for the breakfast ritual. Bread was toasting, filling the little kitchen with a homely smell. Eggs were boiling, tomatoes sliced, beans heating sedately in their little pot. Butters and jams waiting on the table. Crowley’s coffee was almost finished brewing, and the kettle for Aziraphale’s tea was just coming to the boil.

It was a moment of quiet bliss, and Aziraphale closed his eyes to savor it more fully. The only thing better would be when Crowley finally woke up and joined him.

A few minutes later, Crowley appeared, sleep-draggled and bleary, shambling over to the table and dropping into a chair. Aziraphale handed him a mug of coffee. “Thanks, angel.”

“You’re welcome, my love. Anything to eat this morning?”

Crowley sniffed, apparently parsing out the cooking smells. “Maybe an egg?”

“Certainly.” Aziraphale plated his own breakfast, drizzled a swirl of brown sauce over his beans because he was feeling particularly fancy, and egg-cupped a soft boiled. The egg cup was one Crowley claimed to despise, with little horns and a pointy tail painted on, but Aziraphale knew better than to listen to that nonsense.

“I was thinking,” he said, giving his beans an artistic swirl of brown sauce, “that we might go antiquing today.”

“Haven’t you got enough antiques in the shop? And your flat?”

“They were bought from new, so they don’t count. And anyway, I’m not necessarily in the mood to buy anything. I just want to have a poke around. Besides, we’ve talked about that: it’s not my flat any more. It’s ours.” Aziraphale applied fig-and-cocoa jam to his toast and bit into it decisively.

“Sure, but the deed is still in your name.” Crowley focused on peeling his eggshell away in strips. “Whatever. I get your point, angel. And if you want to go nosing around the antique shops today, I will be delighted to go with you. Doesn’t matter to me what we do, as long as we do it together.”

Crowley’s hands were both busy with his egg, so Aziraphale settled for giving the demon’s knee a gentle squeeze. “I feel the same, darling, but thank you for indulging me.”

“That’s what I do, angel,” Crowleys said, smiling lopsidedly back at him. “One big indulger, me.”

*** ***

“Oh, Crowley!” He squeezed Crowley’s hand excitedly. “Wouldn’t this escritoire be just perfect for the back room in the shop?”

Aziraphale could feel him holding back a sigh. “It’s lovely, angel, but where are you going to put it? There’s no space, just like there’s no space for the other twenty-five million things you’ve wanted.”

“There’s always space for beautiful items, dear. It would just be a matter of a discreet miracle or two. There are plenty of pocket dimensions out there that wouldn’t mind sparing me a few extra metres.”

“‘Course. You realize that, if you keep this up, you’ll have more pocket dimension than actual bookshop? Humans will start to notice if your shop keeps expanding infinitely beyond the size of the building.”

Aziraphale pouted. “You’re no fun.”

“I’m lots of fun. You’re just being impractical.”

“Lessons on practicality, from you, darling?”

Crowley just grinned at him, maddeningly calm. “One of us has got to be sensible. Right now it’s my turn.”

They carried on gently bickering throughout the next several shops. Crowley managed to block every proposed acquisition — until the fainting couch. It was gorgeous, a Victorian beast long enough to accommodate even Crowley’s sprawled form, with intricate carving along the legs and the wood framing the raised part of the back: acanthus leaves, pomegranates, and (this was what really sold it) snakes. It had been reupholstered, of course, but it was done respectfully, in period-appropriate heavy crimson velvet.

“I don’t care what objections you raise, Crowley. I am getting this recamier!” Folding his arms resolutely, Aziraphale frowned up at the demon.

“But there’s no space!”

“I will move the sofa in the back room up to the flat, and put this where it used to be. We can have a sofa in the bedroom, then, and no miracles will be necessary.”

Crowley grumbled under his breath, then said, “And how do you expect to get this monstrosity home? It won’t fit in the Bentley, and even if we miracled it to fit, I’m not risking her getting scratched by this thing.”

Aziraphale just smiled primly. “Just wait, darling; it will be perfect, I know.”

The shop did not ordinarily offer delivery, but miraculously decided to make an exception in this case: same-day white-glove delivery, including relocation of the existing sofa upstairs. Crowley protested at this, but Aziraphale overruled him: miracling objects to other locations always carried a slight risk of imprecision if the destination was out of sight, and he wasn’t about to chance dinging his beloved sofa, which embodied so many fond memories.

The actual delivery was a bit of an ordeal, he had to admit. A quick miracle or five cleared a broad path through the shop and flat, so the humans could do the necessary heavy lifting without endangering any books or other treasures, but Aziraphale found the disruption to his carefully organized chaos disturbing. It was also oddly unsettling to have strangers in his private sanctums of the back room and the flat: only he and Crowley belonged there, and he found himself unaccountably resenting the humans’ presence even as he appreciated their help. He barely waited for the door to close behind the delivery people before snapping everything back to its proper, reassuring place, and let out a relieved sigh.

“Thank goodness that’s all over. Tea, darling?”

Crowley shrugged; he was projecting cool indifference, but Aziraphale had seen the tension in his body as he hovered over the delivery people, alert for anything that might endanger Aziraphale’s precious books. The poor dear had worn himself out. “Prefer some wine, actually.”

“Wine it is, then.” Aziraphale went to rummage in his wine stash, returning with two glasses of a rather nice Sangiovese. He handed one to Crowley and settled himself on the new fainting couch, careful to keep his shoes off the upholstery. “Ah, this is lovely.”

Crowley eyed him over the rim of the wineglass. “Better than the old sofa? Was it worth all this kerfuffle?”

Aziraphale made a show of considering the question. “Well, it is rather comfy. But something feels like it’s missing.” He snapped, and a soft cream-colored blanket appeared, draped over the sloping back of the fainting couch. Another snap, and one of his current books popped into his hand. “Much better. But . . . there’s still something missing.”

“Music? Peeled grapes? Scantily clad boys fanning you with ostrich plumes?”

Aziraphale chuckled. “It does feel quite sybaritic, but the only fan boy I want is you, dear.”

“Good answer. Shall I change into a loincloth now, or save that for later?”

“Later, I think. Right now, I think I’d like you to come over here and lie with me. Not that way,” he added, seeing Crowley’s eyebrow raised. “Just to cuddle.”

Grumbling something about the indignity of being expecting cuddling from a demon, Crowley set down his glass and ambled over. “There’s not much room. I’ll have to be practically on top of you.”

“That is rather the idea, darling. Here.” Aziraphale arranged them so that Crowley lay with his back against Aziraphale’s chest, and snuggled an arm around his demon’s waist. “Just so. Isn’t that nice?”

“‘M a demon; I don’t do nice.” There was no heat in it, though, and the way Crowley nestled closer, fitting his cheek against Aziraphale’s shoulder, was far from reluctant.

“Of course not, my love. You just rest there for a while. You must be worn out from supervising the movers so carefully.”

Gradually, the muttering died down and Crowley’s slow, even breathing suggested he’d drifted off. Pleased, Aziraphale read and sipped his wine for the next few hours, sometimes resting his cheek against Crowley’s head or stroking his russet hair.

“‘Snice,” Crowley eventually mumbled, nuzzling against Aziraphale’s neck.

“Very nice,” he agreed, then added because he couldn’t resist needling just a bit, “Whoever would have thought the recamier would work out so well?”

Crowley groaned. “Yes, I admit it, you were right. ’S a good addition. Totally worth it.”

“I’m so glad you agree, love.” Planting a gentle kiss on Crowley’s head, he sighed contentedly. “So very glad indeed.”

#fictober19 #good omens #good omens fanfic #ineffable spouses #ineffable husbands #fluff #antiquing #my fanfic #cuddling #domestic fluff

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freedomartspress · 4 years

Text

Post-Rapture — Breht O’Shea

You wake up, the morning sunlight softly flooding around the edges of your drapes, illuminating the bedroom and falling gently upon the body of your partner who is still sleeping. You get up to let the dog out, and wave to your neighbor who is doing the same.

“You going to make it to movie night tonight”, you neighbor inquires, “our friends on 27th street are hosting this time. They blocked off their enitre cul de sac and I made sure to run over the neighborhood projector yesterday”.

“Of course”, you reply, “the kids love movie night! Ill see you there!”

Since the revolution, community means a lot more than it use to. At some point it stopped being an empty platitude uttered by rich politicians on the campaign trail and slowly became a tangible reality in your daily life. You remember the days before the revolution, when you didn’t even know your neighbors names; now you work closely with all of them to organize local councils and gardening projects, coordinate with other neighborhoods, and put together communal events. Some of your best friends, you realize, only lived a few blocks or houses away from you for years, but you never even knew it until you all began setting up community organizations and local grass roots collectives during the revolution.

Now that life has been decommodified and people no longer live to serve the market, you have a lot more free time. You started a philosophy club with some of your neighbors, and your wife spearheaded a project to storm-proof your entire neighborhood and coordinate local disaster relief projects across the entire county. Seeing her be able to pursue her interests and find meaning in her life has meant the world to you; her depression and anxiety used to be crippling in the old days, but now she has really come into her own. A happy tear slides down your cheek as you reflect on how proud you are of her.

The work week has been cut in half, and you remember with sadness the days of old when you were forced to work three different jobs just to make ends meet. You never really thought of housing as a human right before; it never occurred to you that your family could be guaranteed a comfortable home without having to pay half of your income in rent to a landlord.

You call your dog back into the house, he clumsily navigates the flower beds and raised gardens you have littered throughout your yard. Lawns of mono-cultural grass are a thing of the past, now every lawn in your neighborhood has been turned into bio-diverse community gardens. You water your plants, then you head back inside, gather your stuff, and walk down the block to the high-speed rail station. As you enter the train, headed into the city center, you notice that the walls of the train have art on them. You sit down under a beautiful print of Von Goghs Starry Night, remembering that before the revolution, this train wouldn’t have existed, and if it did, that painting would have been replaced with an advertisement for a car company or deodorant or something else equally as meaningless. You hated the constant bombardment of advertising in the old days, not so much for yourself, but for your kids. You remember how they use to sit in front of the TV screen, staring blindly at colorful advertisements for sugary cereal and shitty plastic toy products that would break after a couple days. The cartoons they watched, you realize, were only there to keep their attention between commercials.

As you hurtle down the rails, you think about how the very concept of Rush Hour Traffic has all but vanished from your mind. All those cars packing the interstates at 8am and 5pm, all that smog and co2 being pumped relentlessly into the atmosphere… you wonder how many hours of your life were wasted sitting in bumper to bumper traffic as billboards towered over you in every direction, trying to convince you that you weren’t a complete person unless and until you bought their product.

The train gradually begins to slow down and eventually stops, you exit the train, walk out of the station, and head to your job. Before the revolution, you were a barista and an uber driver, and on the weekends you tended bar. Now you work in the field of environmental science, helping others from your area build and maintain the new global green energy grid. The government paid for your education and training, arguing that they wanted to invest in their people and implementing full employment for those who could, and wanted to, work. You don’t love every aspect of your job, no job is perfect, but you only have to work 20 hours a week, and now that your healthcare, housing, transportation, and children’s education are offered as human rights by the society at large, you are no longer working yourself to the bone out of desperation paycheck to paycheck, but are contributing to a society that you believe in and sincerely feel a part of. As you walk toward your building, you notice the utter lack of both cops and homeless people. Before the revolution, these city streets were packed full of the mentally ill and poor, huddling in tents on the sidewalk and sleeping in the gutters, being constantly harassed by an out of control police force with no accountability to the people that they brutalized and oppressed. You now realize that you haven’t seen a homeless person in years, and you find it hard to believe that at one time it was accepted as normal by pretty much everyone. Now those people have healthcare and homes as well as robust community ties at the grass roots level and structural, institutional protection at the highest levels to ensure no one slips through the cracks; that no one goes without.

You turn the corner and enter your building, the morning meeting has already started, and you join your fellow co-workers to plan out the day. In the old days, you remember getting scolded by your boss for clocking in late or taking too long of lunch break. You cringe when recalling how belittled you felt, apologizing to that asshole on the regular and catering to his infinite narcissism just to ensure you didn’t get fired and lose your ability to support you family. You put up with so much shit… but you had to. A small smile spreads across your face, as you reflect on the fact that your kids, will never know what it feels like to have to cower in front of a petty tyrant like that, and cater to their every demand. They will never have to feel the humiliation of having to lower themselves to the level of subservience to another human being. You laugh at the idea of someone now a days puffing out their chest and handing down orders to their co-workers. They would be laughed out of the building…

As you ascend the staircase to your floor, you pause to gaze out of the window and are entranced by the beauty: every building is topped with lush greenery and solar panels. With the huge investments into science and technology detached from profit motives brought about by the revolution, you know those solar panels no longer require extractive mining operations in the global south to obtain the minerals; the expansion of investments in science and public health have allowed for the emergence of asteroid mining and strict international laws against extractive environmental degradation. The huge sums of wealth and resources funneled to the global south after the revolution has reduced global poverty to near-nonexistence, and the science and technology created in any corner of the world is shared with every other corner of the world, reducing borders to a thing of the past and allowing for the free movement of peoples across the entire globe.

You turn away and continue to ascend the stairs. You know the world isn’t perfect, and there is so much more to do, but when you reflect on how far we’ve come since the revolution, you feel a burning passion deep inside your chest to do everything you can to make sure we never go back to the barbarism of our specie’s capitalist past. You know, deep down, that you would do anything to make sure your kids will never, ever have to live like your parents had to, and you sense within yourself a blossoming feeling of pride knowing that you and your comrades helped make this possible, that you participated earnestly in the monumental struggle of your time, and that you all fought for this new world, against all odds, and won…

and that you’ll never stop fighting for it.

Breht is a revolutionary communist. He hosts the podcast Revolutionary Left Radio and co-hosts Red Menace.

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jasondarejourney · 7 years

Text

A “quick” Con dao travel guide. It covers how to get to and get around the island, some facts about night on ship, foods and what to do to explorer the paradise.

Hopefully it helps you plan for your trip. This is a beautiful remote place in Vietnam that a traveller should visit once-in-a-lifetime.

Travel to Con Dao

There’s no budget flight on HCMC-Con Dao. The only airline is Vietnamairline, national fleet, price ranges around 80 usd/ one-way. The airport is quite far from the town, so if you’ve booked hotel, kindly request them a transfer.

The cheaper (but more adventurous, I warn you) way to get to the island is to secure a seat on a ship in Cat Lo port in Vung Tau. It runs every two day, so you should check the schedule beforehand. The green box is route Con Dao-Vung Tau, Blue box is Vung Tau-Con Dao.

The ship start at 17:00 and the arrival should be at 6:00 the next day for both route Vung Tau – Con Dao and vice versa. Sometimes you’ll reach the port at around 8:00 if the sea is rough the previous night.

There are two ship operating:

– Con Dao 09: a big ship with 238 vacancies (200 beds and 38 seats). I traveled to Con Dao in the ship.

– Con Dao 10: smaller ship, vacancies only 148 passenger (108 beds and 40 seats).

There’s a cafeteria onboard, serves you instant noodle for 20000 vnd and purified water for 10000 vnd. It serves until 19:00 when it’s getting windy and the ground becomes more up-and-down feelings.

Note: On the way to port, there’re several vendor selling local food, cheap. So before departure, you can walk nearby neighborhood for better food than poor menu onboard.

It’s quite clean, a lot of officer onboard. Night on ship will not a good news for those who are stuck with seasick. You’re likely to vomit, and it will weaken your health a bit. So if you’re not healthy, take a flight please, for your life. Here is my story in Con Dao 09 ship.

Cost

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Ticket price

Vehicle fee

If you go on Con Dao 09, so you’ll pay 85 000/ seat and 150 000/ bed. Con dao 10 is more expensive: 200 000/ bed and 125 000/ seat. You can have seat anywhere you like, someones even stretch their legs over the nearby seat to sleep. You can bring hammock if you want more comfort.

50 000/ motorbike + 60k loading fee (onboard and offboard). Your gasonline tank will be empty before loading onto ship. The ship departs at 17:00, so you have to be at the dock before 1 hour if you’d like to bring along your bike.

For ticket, buy here:

In Vung tau city: 1007/36, 30/4 street, ward 11. Telephone (Vietnamese) 064.383.8684.

In Con dao town: Vo Thi Sau street, near Con dao market. Telephone: 064.383.0619.

Email (quite useless): [email protected]

You’re required to provide your ID card, passport to buy ticket, and the vehicle license for your bike.

Note: From Ben Dam port to the town center, you have to travel 12 kilometers so if you don’t have any vehicle, so the motorbike taxi would charge you 50 000 for a ride. Remember to write down your hotel name along with address because few drivers speak English.

Get around the island

Small fact: Con Dao islands are a group of 16 islands. The largest island is known as Con Son.

There are many way to explore the island.

Walk: Just by walking, you can even explore beautiful sea, visit prison complexes, have food and so on. The village is small scale so all the points of interest are close to one another ridiculously. Jogging in the morning and evening is recommended.

Motorbikes: I love this option most – as a guy loves roadtrip ah ha. The price is very cheap: 100 000 vnd/ day, no fuel cover, cheaper than mostly rest of Vietnam. The bikes are new, but remember to get your tank full of gas or you have to drag your vehicle (which is not romantic at all) because the petrol station have limited hours: 6:00-11:30 and 13:30 – 20:00.

Motorbike taxis: They are mostly honest. However, I think you should also check the distance, and bargain price before get on. Good guys – Bad guys – Who knows. These man are very useful guide, but because the fact that few of them speak English, so it’s not really useful if you cannot communicate in Vietnamese.

Taxis: Most expensive, I didn’t choose it. You are on a beautiful island, full of wild landscape. Why do you have to be stuck in a metal box?

Bicycle: Town is small, so if you don’t walk, you can ride a bicycle, but just around the town, OK. out-of-town roads are extremely rough and sloping. Know what to expect you!

Stay

Many hotel in Con Dao, but most of them are quite expensive if you travel alone because there are just private rooms available. Price range from

If you have money, then Six Sense is a upscale resort that can satisfy all you need and your standard. (Ok, I’ve never been to there, I just heard people saying so, haha). A night here cost you only 500 – 2400$ (it’s too long to write in vnd, excuse me).

Con Dao average price for private room ranges from 20-40$. You can find Phi Yen hotel, Con Dao island hotel, Anh Dao easily. They are all popular to most of taxis.

I chose the only dorm in the island – Uyen’s house, very budget if you travel solo, only 10$ and it’s very beautiful, new so the equipments are still very fresh.

See more: Uyen’s house hostel review

What you do in Con Dao

Con Dao, it’s famous for 3 things: a national park and a big historical jail and a island so, there are many activities to do, which may take you a whole week to well dig into each one.

Swimming

As a small island, Con Dao owns just several nice beach to swim, the other are beautiful, but too rocky, which make it impossible for swimming around but ideal for camping, snorkel.

The closest beach is right at the town, walking for minutes and you get there. The water is clear enough and the sand is nice.

Further and quieter is Dam Tre beach. Just few local and hikers pass by. The water is clear as crystal, sand is very nice and smooth, while the beach is completely even, suitable for sun-bathing

Trail Hiking

I did completely two routes, and to be honest, I did love them. That was a chance to refresh your lung, paint your eyes with green sightseeing and enrich your experience with wild friends, like monkeys and birds.

Hiking alone is more adventurous sense. A lot of scary things like cave explore, stuck in trail when it’s twilight, be some robinson-moment on a nice beach at the end of the trail,… very tempting!

Wandering in historical sites

To be honest, I was frightened when enter Con Dao jail for the first time, it’s quite, dark, human statues. If you read the history, then you sense this is where thousands of revolution people died, like a mass death. It’s haunting.

Besides the jail complex, Hang Duong cemetery is also a sacred destinations where hundreds of pilgrims visit daily at night. You won’t forget the moment there.

Diving

As a remote island, untouched by most of human activities, and still well preserved, Diving in Con Dao is very famous. There’s several diving center with PADI sign on. Signing up for a diving course is recommended.

Cruising to surrounding islets

The wild life in surrounding area is still very dynamic. You can go to port, ask any fishing boat for a cruise tour, bargain for the best price, and step on, explore islets.

Roadtrip

There’s an only coastal road, so it’s thoroughly worthy a ride to enjoy beautiful shorelines in the island. You’ll see bird spreading their wings in the sky, sun brighten the sea and wild plants color the roadside.

Roadtrip is very cheap, you can rent a bike for only 5$/ day, plus 1-2 $ for fuel. The experience on road will be amazing!

Food and Drink

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bun rieu

dipping sauce

duck salad

lemon and hot pepper

adding vegetable

Food is expensive. We had a half of boiled duck and 4 soups, costing 320 000 in total. A buffet for 340 000/ pax, and a bowl of Bun rieu for 25000.

You have to breakfast/ lunch in time or no one would sell you anything. But the dinner is very relaxing, most of restaurant lasts til mid night.

If you run out of budget then some instant noodle packs are saviors. A packs cost 7000, double will be likely enough for a active day.

Most of Con Dao specialities are gifts or snacks like: almendron nuts, Oyster soups (not really special), Sea foods (snails, lobsters, fishes,..). I think echinus sauce and peanut worms are the two most unique that deserves a try (but requires a taste after all).

There are some nice local coffee shops to check in. I’ll pick up Infinite and Laraca if you like somethings cool, price is a bit higher than average . The local drink is also good to try. I bought a sugar water for 10 000vnd, the 1.5 liter bottle of water also costs me another 10 000vnd.

The safety

One of the best things in Con Dao, and other islands like Phu Quoc is no theft threats. I haven’t heard any news report about crimes in the island, and you don’t worry about your bike if you leave it on road. That’s pretty good compared to the land.

One more thing to noticed that when you get on a boat for a cruise, remember to check for any life vests available. Some boat owner won’t provide the safety equipments like that so go on or choose another provider is your call. Be careful!

Do you have any questions on my Con Dao travel guide? Comment them below!

A “quick” Con dao travel guide. It covers how to get to and get around the island, some facts about night on ship, foods and what to do to explorer the paradise. Enjoy it if you are planning to visit Vietnam and have time for remote islands in the South. A “quick” Con dao travel guide. It covers how to get to and get around the island, some facts about night on ship, foods and what to do to explorer the paradise.

#budget #vietnam

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