Meeting our guide - an old friend!

My companion and I were up bright and early for the trip to the Lemurian mainland. According to our instructions, we were to meet our guide in Lemuria and spend a few days with a host at Owl Creek before setting off the Alluvial Mines.
My companion raised a delicate eyebrow. “Mines?” she said. “I may be incorrectly dressed.”
Our transport to the mainland was a charming little boat rowed by a deceptively small ferrywoman. As soon as we pushed off, she proved herself to be a powerful rower, her strong arms pulling the boat quickly away from the marble steps of Hotel Atlantis. We watched the hotel recede with real regret. Our stay there had been extremely comfortable, but adventure lay ahead, and we soon turned to watch the approaching mainland.
Our ferrywoman’s name was Imeena. She was descended from those Atlanteans that had sought refuge in Lemuria when the sea swallowed the great island.
“The waters of this bay are very clear,” she pointed out. “If you look over the side you can see some of the remains of the great city.”
Edith and I peered eagerly over the side of the boat. The water was a translucent jade and far below we could see broken white marble columns and the faint outlines of mosaic floors. Edith gasped as the boat passed over the form of a great golden bull, its head upraised, its eyes of inlaid turquoise seeming to follow us.
“That was the site of the great bullring,” Imeena said sadly. “The centre was laid out as a labyrinth, and the athletes had to journey through it to meet the Minotaur.”
“But the minotaur is a Cretan legend.” My companion demurred.
“It was an Atlantean truth long before it was a legend of Crete,” Imeena smiled. “The Minotaur was a great athlete who once a year challenged contenders to meet him in the centre of the labyrinth. But they had to prove themselves worthy to meet him – throughout the labyrinth there were young bulls and the athletes leapt over them to get to the centre.”
Our minds filled with the lost glory of the city below, we were hardly aware that the boat had docked until strong hands reached down to help us ashore. We watched Imeena row away again, her strong brown arms plying the oars, her long black hair held back with a single gold band. One of the last living links with Old Atlantis – we felt awed and privileged to have met her.
But we still had to meet our guide, who would take us to Owl Creek. Standing on the jetty with our baggage, we watched the sun sparkle on the ocean and the secrets that it held. Then a long-eared shadow fell across the jetty.
“Good morning, ladies.” Said a cultured Scottish voice.
“Hamish!” I cried in delight – for it was he, Hamish, the dear old donkey I had met before in Lemuria. He still wore his raffish tam o’shanter, and a look of impending doom on his lugubrious face.
“This is our guide,” I said to Edith. “We are old friends.”
Edith bowed politely. I could see she was a bit startled to meet a talking donkey, but she was quickly adapting to life in Lemuria. They chatted like old friends as we made our way along the jetty to the town.
Hamish manfully – or should I say donkeyfully – shouldered our luggage and we set out on the road to Owl Creek.

Gail Kavanagh

Through the Portal

My companion and I set sail on a graceful sailing ship for Lemuria. I felt sorry for the sailors who had to load our trunks on board. Since this journey is to be taken in the grand style, I have packed a lot of items for sightseeing – binoculars, camera, a stout walking stick and a travel journal.
My companion is none other than Edith Wharton. I have long admired her writing and was thrilled when she agreed to accompany me on the tours. I have packed a couple of her books in my trunk, which she finds quite amusing. She is greatly looking forward to seeing Lemuria, which she already feels is her spiritual home, and meeting Le Enchanteur.
Passing from our world into Lemuria is a mystical experience at any time, but it is simply magical by sea. My companion and I didn’t want to miss a moment, so we took deck chairs and made ourselves comfortable as we approached the portal into Lemuria.
At first all we could see was a low lying mist on the horizon – but as we drew closer we saw two immense pillars soaring out of the sea. We passed between them and for a time saw nothing at all – then the mist cleared and we grasped each other’s hands in excitement. On the other side of the pillars the sea is a deep, crystal blue and we could see the shapes of swift dolphins running beside the packet, darting from one side of the hull to the other.
We had made reservations at the Hotel Atlantis, that last remaining remnant of the drowned continent. Surrounded by ocean, it stands off the Lemurian shores like a lone jewel on a sheet of blue silk.
Before the fall of Atlantis, the hotel was a palace, but now it is one of the most exclusive of resorts. It is fearfully expensive, of course, but as I said to my companion, this is the tour of a lifetime. We are going first class.
The ship docked at the foot of a mighty set of white marble steps rising like a frozen wave out of the sea. Our trunks were whisked up to the hotel by strong young porters and we followed at a more leisurely pace.
I was given a room overlooking the open sea, while my companion requested one with a view of the Lemurian shoreline. The rooms are quite sumptuous, with painted frescos on the walls, depicting scenes of Old Atlantis. Mine showed a Spring Rite, with young girls and boys festooned with flowers, running hand in hand through the hills of Old Atlantis. How beautiful it was, with strange flowers and trees the like of which I have never seen. The canopied bed contained a surprise – a small brightly coloured bag containing items I had seen before on previous journeys - a packet of dream seeds, spectacles, a candlestick, a tiny anchor, a medallion with the imprint of the Unicorn and a set of wings. There was also one other item, a tiny silver flute. I piped a few tentative notes – it had a sweet plaintive sound, like the Pan Pipes of South America.
I took a welcome bath after my journey – the bath is a spa fed from the ocean itself, and it is very invigorating. I changed into clean clothes and went out to meet my companion for dinner. I found her under the great dome at the top of the hotel, gazing at a golden statue of The Goddess. She stands with a jug of water on her shoulder, the water pouring down into a stream flowing at her feet.
Dinner was an exquisite meal, served on one of the great balconies that surround the hotel, with the Lemurian shore as a backdrop. The table was piled high with mounds of fruit, fresh baked bread and the most delicious cheese. My companion and I ate heartily, as we watched the boats plying between the Hotel Atlantis and the Lemurian shore. We made the acquaintance of other travelers, and discussed our hopes for the journey. Relaxing under the mighty pillars with icy cold rainbow coloured drinks, we watch the sunset in a blaze of red and gold. Our adventure has begun.

Boarding Pass

Hotel Atlantis