used-car-lot

So this girl is similar to the one that stole my heart as a 16 year old boy in 1979.  My step dad and I were visiting local used car lots looking for my first car and a lady like this caught my eye and has had my heart in her hands ever since.

1969 Camaro Super Sport with the Rally Sport option, D90 striping, non-functional hood breathers, triple black, rally wheels.  The pictured car is a small block 350.  The one that stole my heart had a 396 big block, 350 or 375 horsepower mated to a 4-speed and gauges on the console.  The only aftermarket product on her was a set of chrome traction bars peeking out from in front of the rear tires.

I wasn’t able to purchase her that day as A) My stepdad said I’d probably get killed in her (and he was probably right) and B) The asking price was $3,500 which was a pretty penny in 1979 for a 16 year old who bagged groceries for a living.

Maybe one day I can still fulfill that dream.

2

A couple of intriguing views of Mayrose Motors used car lot in Melrose Park, Illinois sometime in the 1950s.  There’s a lot to love about these midcentury cars, especially the turret-nosed Studebaker in the top photo or the boxy Mopars lined up in the bottom photo.  Chrysler designed its cars of this era specifically so men could drive them comfortably while wearing the mandatory fedora or stetson.  Images from the Flickr collection of Dave Gelinas.

Dear Florida

I’ve heard ppl say they hate living here my entire life. All 26 years of it. While it gets old, I understand! There’s a lot of bad stuff here, like SO much, but I was born here and I have so many memories here, I can’t imagine hating it with my entire being. I grew up near the gulf in the suburbs and then moved to orlando so I know my experiences may not be universal but whatever :). Here’s some Florida positivity and feelings:

- I know it doesn’t appeal to everybody, but perfect beach weather! I grew up near pine island and I swear my family had every birthday there. Eating burgers and hot dogs at the picnic tables so close to the water, the gulf breeze ruffling sundresses and cheap plastic table cloths.

- where I lived there was a large wooden tower you could climb up and watch the sunset/rise from. Years of teenaged graffiti had been carved into it’s beams and made you nostalgic for the days of hanging out with friends during the summer and not worrying about having to pay your bills or go to work.

-swimming at the spring, crystal clear cold water with the warm sun at your back, your nerves awake and tingling.

- ice cream sandwiches and freezepops while you walked down the cracked pavement, prickly grass poking through.

- nature always shines through the urbanization, Florida can’t stop being Florida.

- gaggles of kids during the summer, running up to any house where there was evidence of another child and ringing the doorbell, asking if there were any other kids there to come out and play.

- the cities are ugly and regular draughts dry up the grass and ponds, but there’s something weirdly nostalgic and unique about those stretches of road, lined with failed businesses and strip clubs and used car lots. As a kid I always imagined those empty parking lots as the perfect place for a fight between superpowered folks or werewolves lol idk

- waking up early to see the sun rise from the overpass and waving to the cars below as ppl commuted to work. ALMOST as beautiful as the sunsets.

- imagine if you got to see the most gorgeous explosion of color in the sky every single night. So much so that you almost get used to it and then, one night, you stop to really looked at the gradient of pinks and purples and oranges and realize all over again how breathtaking it all is.

- the stars at night over the beach and the smell of fried food from a seafood shack close to shore.

- cicadas screaming while you try to get a dragonfly to land on your kayak or catching lizards and grasshoppers in the grassy lot near the woods.

- little crabs scurrying in the sand and finding a seagull feather to put in your headband. Sandhill crane couples making their way across the street and making you late to class (but they’re so pretty!) And the sounds of wild peacocks while you swim in your friends pool before dark. Signs of animals everywhere you go.

- publixes in Orlando with the best guava pastries and even better croquettes. The subs! The fried chicken!! The sweet tea!!!

- tiny ice cream shops like papa Clyde’s thatve been around for 30+ years and have the best handspun shakes you’ll ever taste.

- the mermaid shows and tubing down a lazyriver and manatees that are too chill. Getting lucky enough for a baby manatee to fearlessly brush against your leg.

-a warm breeze rustling through the palms at night. Bonfires during the short winters while the dogs dig in the dirt for a nice cool place to sleep.

- theme parks just an hour away. Knowing every loop of the coasters by heart and leading your out of state friends on a tour of a place you know like the back of your hand.

- hurricane parties and waving to your neighbors as you wade across the cul-de-sac, water up to your knees. You haven’t spoken to them in a while but you catch up under an umbrella and ask if they need any batteries or toilet paper.

- fresh oranges and feeding baby Gators and the scent of sunblock and a hot water bottle rolling around the floor of your car.


Feel free to add any good/nostalgic Florida memories!

Untouchable 02

A/N: THIS WAS SO LONG JOLY CHRIST. Anyway, I hope u guys like it and shoutout to my amazing beta reader Myra for putting up with awful first drafts 😰!! Also I’ll probably be working on the Drabble game after this :P let me know your thoughts on this chapter!!

It was nearly dusk when you and Jungkook finally arrived at your home from shopping, arms loaded on either side with shopping bags. Your apartment wasn’t anything fancy, it was a bit dilapidated at best with slight water marks on the ceiling and a few mismatch tiles in the kitchen floor from a DIY project gone haywire.

But even with the tiny imperfections, with all of your hard work (no thanks to Yoongi) it still felt like a home at the end of the day. It was warm and cozy with bright color splashed on walls that were filled with pictures of friends and family.

You grew up in a house with your mother and grandmother and the aromas of their cooking wafting through the house, inviting neighbors, cousins, friends in with its tantalizing smell. When you got a house of your own you did the same, the smell of their recipes that were passed down to you filling every nook and cranny. Yoongi claims it was your only saving grace as a roommate, the only reason he didn’t kick you out.

But you loved that you built an impromptu home with a makeshift family and it was filled with love and laughter and light just like you always wanted.

“What the fuck is all of this?” You weren’t even really directing the question at anyone; considering you couldn’t see anything save for a lump of blanket that was moving amidst the giant ass fort in your living room.

“You’re home.” Min Yoongi popped his silver gray head from under one of the blankets.

“You know,” you started, a frown marring your face, “you say that every single time I come home like you’re surprised I keep coming back.”

“You’re right. I shouldn’t expect any less if Jin hyung keeps feeding you.“  He murmured, gaze refocused on his game, “You know what they say about strays and all that.”

You rolled your eyes.

“What the hell is all of this?” You asked, gesturing to the clusterfuck of blankets and pillows in the middle of the floor.

Well dipshit it’s called a blanket fort.” He deadpanned, sitting up on his spot in the fort to pull a blanket over his head. You glared at him or more so the giant mess of Doritos bags and hot pockets strewn across the floor of your living room, the muffled sounds of GTA playing in the background.

“Okay dick face but what I want to know is why it’s in the middle of our living room you animal.” You flailed your arms, nearly tripping on a tangled game controller on your way over to strangle him.

“I can’t sleep in my room right now. I need a new mattress because mine is all worn out,” he yawned. “If you know what I mean.”

“I don’t.” You stated blandly.

“Too much flinging myself onto it weeping.”

You let out a snort but it was quickly drowned out by the rustling of bags, reminding you that you had Jungkook.

“Oh shit. I’m sorry, Yoongi this is Jungkook. Jungkook this is my roommate Yoongi.” You rushed, pulling Jungkook forward. Jungkook followed behind you as you tugged the bags from his arms and set them down on the couch, or where your couch would be if you could actually see it under the mess Yoongi made.

Yoongi muttered a low ‘whatsup,’ not even glancing up from his game to greet Jungkook.

;You really had to teach this kid some manners.

“This is the roommate we are not having intercourse with, correct?” Jungkook asked, eyes trained on you.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, “What did I say about ca-”

"Well for the record it’s a solid no from me too, big guy.” Yoongi snorted.

"Yoongi, don’t encourage him.” You chastised, feeling like a single mother of two pre teen boys suddenly.  “Jungkook what did we talk about in the car?”

"Not in front of company.” He grumbled, looking much more like a petulant child than a robot at the moment.

“So…” You heard the rustling of blankets and soon Yoongi was in front of you and Jungkook, barefoot in nothing but a pair of PJ’s with ducks on them. “This is your BP?”

"Can you not call him that?” You groaned, rubbing your hands over your face in an exasperated motion.

You turned to start rustling through the bags, looking for any items that had to go into the freezer before you ended up killing Yoongi for annoying the living shit out of you. 

“Why? Is it too clinical for you?” Yoongi asked, cocking his head as if to examine Jungkook for any loose wires or flaws in his anatomy.

“No it just sounds like butt plug,” You rolled your eyes, pulling Yoongi back by his hoodie, “And will you quit that?”

It was as if Jungkooks ears perked up at the word “butt plug” or literally anything sex related because he was suddenly in your face while you tried to put the Ben & Jerry’s away, “What’s a BP, Y/N?”

“First of all, personal space.” You put a hand up, indicating for him to put more than a few feet between the two of you. Jungkook frowned but complied, backing up, still awaiting your response. “A BP is what we call… well, you. It stands for Bionic Person.”

“Oh.” He frowned. You stared at his face trying to gauge for a reaction, negative or otherwise but he was the total image of a disinterested robot, his face blank, save for slight disappointment at the thought of not talking about sex for five minutes.

"Sorry to burst your butt plug bubble pal,” Yoongi clapped him on the shoulder, also noticing the way he deflated.

"Can we stop talking about butt plugs?” You cringed.

Jungkook narrowed his eyes at him, “I do not like this human male.”

"You and an entire thread of Reddit users, Jeon.” You snorted, before tugging on his sleeve, “But play nice, Yoongi’s going to be the one watching you while I go to work.”

Jungkooks face folded in a frown, his lower lip jutting out slightly, “Y/N do you mistake me for a child? I do not need supervision.”

“Jungkook, you do-”

“It’s more so you don’t try and annihilate the human race, leaving only a few stragglers to serve as slaves to you and your Robot friends.” Yoongi sighed, grabbing the tub of ice cream from your hand before you could put it away. “Don’t take it personally.”

“Yoongi,” You reprimanded, shooting him a look that told him you’d reached your limit, “Jungkook don’t listen to him. That’s not why I asked-”

“You would be the first human I annihilate if that were goal Min Yoongi.” He glared, “And do you not also have employment to attend to help Y/N maintain this house? Or are you just a spineless leech taking advantage of Y/N’s big…” He glanced down at your chest and you cocked an eyebrow at him, “heart.”

“I’m a freelance writer, you bionic butt plug.” He shot back, shoving a spoonful of chunky monkey into his mouth, “I work from home. I probably make more than Y/N makes in a two weeks in one day.”

“Gee thanks.” You spat, rolling your eyes. You shuffled through more groceries, half heartedly putting things away, “Look you two can have your dick measuring contest another time, Jungkook has to go get settled-”

“Is that what is happening?” Jungkook cocked his head at you curiously. You glanced over your shoulder to see him looking at Yoongi suspiciously as he made his way to sit at the counter.

“Is what what’s happening?” You asked, confused. You shot Yoongi a glare before ripping the ice cream out of his hand, “What did I say about eating directly out of the tub? You bastard!”

“I don’t see what the big deal is anyway I jus-”

Before either of you could delve deeper into another one of your spats you heard the familiar sound of a zipper going down, your eyes widening at the same time, the sudden realization of what was about to happen.

It was like a bad car accident. Like you didn’t want to look, but how could you not when someone just lobs their dick out like that? Especially when it was just right there out in the open and flopping around like one of those inflatable men outside of used car lots. 

“Oh my God!”

"Holy shit!”

"Your turn.” Jungkook said, gleefully.

"Jungkook!” You screeched, “ITS A FIGURE OF SPEECH PULL YOUR GODDAMN PANTS UP." 

"What the fuck did you put down on your questionnaire, Y/N?” Yoongi choked, “When they asked for penis preference did you write in ‘just fuck me up.’”

“That wasn’t a question!” You hissed, still looking away from the scene of the crime, “God are your pants up yet?”

“Yes, you can look now.”

You turned back around to face Jungkook and Yoongi, Jungkook standing with a smirk on his face and Yoongi staring at him with a mixture of awe and disgust.

“You can’t let him inside you.” Yoongi whispered, his nails digging into your arm, “As your frien-… Acquainta-… Roommate… If you let him put that schlong inside of you-”

“Don’t call it a schlong!” You yelped, cupping your hands over your ears.

“You might die!” Yoongi yelped. “And then who will I split the utilities with?!”

“First of all,” you said putting a finger up, “we’re not discussing this! And… and.. second of all DON’T USE THE WORD SCHLONG IN MY PRESENCE EVER AGAIN!" 

"Jungkook, let’s go!” You snapped, gripping his arm and pulling him behind you.

You weren’t paying attention to what Jungkook was doing, only to the fact that Yoongi was once again embarrassing the hell out of you. In an attempt to flee the awkward conversation you tugged Jungkooks arm, earning  a startled yelp.  You heard the familiar sound of glass breaking on the floor and you gasped, turning around to find your bamboo plant, pot shattered and water splashing the back of your ankles and into Jungkooks… socks.

“Oh no!” You gasped, hurrying him out of the puddle of water. Not really sure what would happen but not willing to find out.

“Quick Y/N, put him in rice!” Yoongi deadpanned.

“Really, Min Yoongi?” You sent him a bland look before looking back up to Jungkook, “Are you okay?”

“Let’s just go get you settled okay, Jungkook?” You sighed, “And Yoongi,”

Yoongi cocked a brow at you, waiting for your snide remark but it never came, only a satisfied little smirk. “I invited Hoseok over for dinner tomorrow! BYE!”

“You little shit!”

You heard the familiar sound of Yoongis socks padding after you as you ran down the hallway, tugging Jungkook with you. “Go! Go! Go! Before he catches us!”

You shoved Jungkook in your room before slamming the door, barely escaping Yoongis wrath. You jumped when he pounded a fist against it, “Just wait you little shit! I’ll get you back for this!”

“Y/N?” Jungkook questioned softly, “Who is Hoseok?”

You sighed, “Yoongi’s worst nightmare and my best friend in the entire world.”

You turned to face Jungkook to see him staring curiously at you, suddenly aware that the two of you were alone in close proximity to a bed. Jungkook raised an eyebrow at you, you gulped.

On April 21, 1967, the 100 millionth GM vehicle rolled off the line at the plant in Janesville – a blue two-door Caprice.

There was a big ceremony, speeches. The lieutenant governor even showed up. Three days later, another car rolled off that same line. No one gave two craps about her. But they should have, because this 1967 Chevrolet Impala would turn out to be the most important car – no, the most important object – in pretty much the whole universe.

She was first owned by Sal Moriarty, an alcoholic with two ex-wives and three blocked arteries. On weekends, he’d drive around giving Bibles to the poor “gettin’ folks right for Judgment Day.” That’s what he said. Sam and Dean don’t know any of this, but if they did, I bet they’d smile.

After Sal died, she ended up at Rainbow Motors, a used-car lot in Lawrence, where a young marine bought her on impulse. That is, after a little advice from a friend. I guess that’s where this story begins.

And here’s where it ends.

It’s the Impala’s 50th Birthday! - April 24, 1967 - 2017

On April 21, 1967, the 100 millionth GM vehicle rolled off the line at the plant in Janesville – a blue two-door Caprice. 

There was a big ceremony, speeches. The lieutenant governor even showed up. Three days later, another car rolled off that same line. No one gave two craps about her. But they should have, because this 1967 Chevrolet Impala would turn out to be the most important car – no, the most important object – in pretty much the whole universe. 

She was first owned by Sal Moriarty, an alcoholic with two ex-wives and three blocked arteries. On weekends, he’d drive around giving Bibles to the poor “gettin’ folks right for Judgment Day.” That’s what he said. Sam and Dean don’t know any of this, but if they did, I bet they’d smile.

After Sal died, she ended up at Rainbow Motors, a used-car lot in Lawrence, where a young marine bought her on impulse. That is, after a little advice from a friend. I guess that’s where this story begins.




“Some people see a tunnel or a river. What do you see?”

                “Nothing.  My dash.  I’m in my car.  I’m on a road.”

“Alright.  A road.  For you, it’s a road.  
  Follow it, Dean.  You’ll find Sam.  Follow the road.”



“It never occurred to them that, sure, maybe they never really had a roof and four walls…

…but they were never, in fact, homeless.”



*Happy birthday to Dean’s Baby, Mary’s Sweetheart, the Metallicar, The Impala!  She’s a hunter at heart and still badass at 50!*

spare time between

“i hate advertisements so much.” you groaned as the television switched from the show you were watching straight to an advertisement for some nearby used car lot

chris nodded in agreement. “especially when it’s a cliff hanger.” he said before shifting on the sofa and sliding his arm around you. your body immediately sunk into his, leaning in closer and getting in a comfortable position

then you two sat in silence as the rest of ther advertisements rolled one after the other on the screen. after the used car lot one, was a home insurance one, and then something for a type of medication, and then the next was a Wendy’s food chain advertisement for it’s ghost pepper fries

you watched the dramatic shots and heard the voice describe how good the food is; “it’s perfect if you’re hot for spice.” 

out the corner of your eye you saw chris turn to you, a sly grin on his lips. “you know who i’m hot for?” he asked before leaning over and pressing kisses to your neck. 

it was more ticklish than sensual, causing you to snort and fall back on the sofa as he continued by crawling on top of you, kissing your neck, and using his nimble finger to tickle your sides, which made you laugh even more

The farmer and the restaurant owner.

Once upon a time there was a man who owned a piece of land next to a thriving restaurant. Now this man had owned the land for a long time, (22 years), and it was undeveloped. He had bought it cheaply, but it had great highway frontage, and he had always dreamed of building a little used cars lot or gun shop on the tract, as his retirement pastime.

Now, the man had had the tract zoned as a commercial lot when he bought it, but when news leaked about the upcoming development, the restaurant owners petitioned the zoning board to overturn the commercial zoning, and re-institute the original agricultural zoning. By the way, all land in the mythical state of Kentucky is zoned as agricultural by default. This was unfair, illegal, and generally rude, but the restaurateur’s brother was the county zoning commissioner, so things naturally turned against our would-be entrepreneur.

After fighting the good, clean, play-by-the-rules sort of battle and losing, our would-be entrepreneur gave up. He decided to accept the county zoning.

Not to see the tract go idly unused, the enterprising retiree decided to pursue another business venture. He raised hogs. Lots of them. Two hundred and four, to be exact, on his little 12 acre tract. For those of you unfamiliar with the climate in time-lost Kentucky, the summers are downright southernly in their humidity and heat. As you can imagine, a rather malignant odor grew up around the thriving hog farm. Patrons of the restaurant ate elsewhere, anywhere else to be exact.

In a matter of weeks, the zoning commissioner reversed his earlier ruling, returning the commercial status of the lot. It is another caveat of Kentucky zoning law that land can always be used for a purpose lesser on the scale of hierarchy than its current zoning. Everyone, especially the restaurateur, was surprised when the hog farm remained in operation. Nothing, not even substantial financial offers, could convince the new farmer to quit his now beloved occupation.

Exactly 3 months, and four days after the opening of the hog farm, the restaurant closed its doors for good. The farmer, in a fit of depression, ceased hog farming and decided to open a small sporting goods store instead. It remains there to this day, alongside his newly-acquired restaurant.

          On April 21, 1967, the 100 millionth GM vehicle rolled off the line at the plant in Janesville – a blue two-door Caprice.

          There was a big ceremony, speeches. The lieutenant governor even showed up. Three days later, another car rolled off that same line. No one gave two craps about her. But they should have, because this 1967 Chevrolet Impala would turn out to be the most important car – no, the most important object – in pretty much the whole universe.

          She was first owned by Sal Moriarty, an alcoholic with two ex-wives and three blocked arteries. On weekends, he’d drive around giving Bibles to the poor “gettin’ folks right for Judgment Day.” That’s what he said. Sam and Dean don’t know any of this, but if they did, I bet they’d smile.

          After Sal died, she ended up at Rainbow Motors, a used-car lot in Lawrence, where a young marine bought her on impulse. That is, after a little advice from a friend. I guess that’s where this story begins.

anonymous asked:

How in the heck does Tony hide all this werewolf business from his dad. Or does he not live with him

He lives with his dad and I think in the beginning his dad is only spared finding out because of their distance with one another. I think his parents kinda goofed and had him very young (like 17-18-ish) so at this point his dad is kinda out and about desperate to have his own life, unintentionally bitter with his kid. They don’t get along for a lot of reasons, and his dad is already used to Tony hardly being home, sneaking out at night,  acting out, etc. His dad probably spends odd nights out as well. Bad dad.

I don’t know if I ever posted these old things, but they were some design ideas for how his dad looks. Leaning towards the one on the left because father and son have to have a similar mean sneer. I think he works at a used car lot but I’m not sure. calls Tony by his full name Anthony instead of just Tony. 

On April 21, 1967, the 100 millionth GM vehicle rolled off the line at the plant in Janesville – a blue two-door Caprice. There was a big ceremony, speeches. The lieutenant governor even showed up. Three days later, another car rolled off that same line. No one gave two craps about her. But they should have, because this 1967 Chevrolet Impala would turn out to be the most important car – no, the most important object – in pretty much the whole universe. She was first owned by Sal Moriarty, an alcoholic with two ex-wives and three blocked arteries. On weekends, he’d drive around giving Bibles to the poor “gettin’ folks right for Judgment Day.” That’s what he said. Sam and Dean don’t know any of this, but if they did, I bet they’d smile. After Sal died, she ended up at Rainbow Motors, a used-car lot in Lawrence, where a young marine bought her on impulse. That is, after a little advice from a friend. I guess that’s where this story begins. And here’s where it ends. The Impala, of course, has all the things other cars have… and a few things they don’t. But none of that stuff’s important. This is the stuff that’s important. The army man that Sam crammed in the ashtray – it’s still stuck there. The Legos that Dean shoved into the vents – to this day, heat comes on and they can hear ‘em rattle. These are the things that make the car theirs – really theirs. Even when Dean rebuilt her from the ground up, he made sure all these little things stayed, 'cause it’s the blemishes that make her beautiful. The Devil doesn’t know or care what kind of car the boys drive. In between jobs, Sam and Dean would sometimes get a day – sometimes a week, if they were lucky. They’d pass the time lining their pockets. Sam used to insist on honest work, but now he hustles pool, like his brother. They could go anywhere and do anything. They drove 1,000 miles for an Ozzy show, two days for a Jayhawks game. And when it was clear, they’d park her in the middle of nowhere, sit on the hood, and watch the stars… for hours… without saying a word. It never occurred to them that, sure, maybe they never really had a roof and four walls…  but they were never, in fact, homeless. That’s a good line. Endings are hard. Any chapped-ass monkey with a keyboard can poop out a beginning, but endings are impossible. You try to tie up every loose end, but you never can. The fans are always gonna bitch. There’s always gonna be holes. And since it’s the ending, it’s all supposed to add up to something. I’m telling you, they’re a raging pain in the ass. So, what’s it all add up to? It’s hard to say. But me, I’d say this was a test… for Sam and Dean. And I think they did all right. Up against good, evil, angels, devils, destiny, and God himself, they made their own choice. They chose family. And, well… isn’t that kinda the whole point?  No doubt – endings are hard. But then again… nothing ever really ends, does it?
— 

Chuck’s whole speech (minus the dialogue) from S05E22 of Supernatural- “Swan Song”

some due south reactions from watching it w Dora:

  • look it’s… chiii caaa goooo
  • wait you mean the ghosts are going to be a recurring thing??
  • just laughing every time Ray wears an awful clothes
  • how did they get there so fast? They’re in Arlington Heights??
  • where the fuck even – okay I’m going to pretend this used car lot is in Hodgekins because lol why not
  • ok my brother drives me nuts sometimes but if he were drowning I’d be freaking out
  • THAT’S A DOG
  • THE BLUE LINE IS RIIIIIIGHT THEEEEEEERE
  • oh my god is he going to zip line on the – oh my god he is
  • mocking the majority of the music choices
10

Antique Automotive Junkyard - Nottoway County, Virginia, January 2015: So, I’m not going to reveal the exact location of this place, but about an hour southwest of Richmond there is one of the most amazing collections of old cars sitting in the woods that I’ve ever seen. This particular place has been a junkyard for many years, and as more and more cars were placed there over time, a forest basically grew up around the cars. There is also still an active repair shop and used car lot operating out of the front building (I’ve had a little bit of car work done by the owner). This junkyard has an absolutely amazing array of cars and other stuff, spanning from almost brand new 21st century cars to 1920s cars. They use an abandoned passenger train car for their wheel storage rack. There are dozens of 1940s and 1950s cars lined up next to each other, some of which look like they’ve been sitting there for 50 years. There are half a dozen pretty nice Chevrolet Corvairs, as well as an entire field (well, now more of a forest) of Ford Mustangs, all of which are from 1968 or earlier. There are also some quite rare 1960s and 1970s muscle cars, and a good number of weird slightly more modern cars. More posts to come from this place, which we visited almost exactly two years ago now. Again, I will not give away the exact location, but I hope you can enjoy these pictures!