The remaining weeks in the cottage were both delightful and by the end a little stale. We spent a few more days here and there bouldering though it wasn't our main aim in travelling. We visited a number of Chateaux and gardens, and wandered quaint villages. Nearly a week was spent indoors as the rain set in, with the occasional chilly and misty wander through the forest. I think we just timed the stay poorly. If it had come at the end of a trip it would have been perfect to wind down, yet we were starting to get a bit stir crazy as we'd only just begun our travels.
Still, we enjoyed it. Chelsea and Jorge had moved on, heading down to Italy for some roped climbing. I did envy them a little their dirtbag lifestyle, yet there were compensations to a different style of travel like ours.
For one, I was deeply in love with identical twins who were passionate about each other.
When the sit finished we made our way down south to Lyon, spending a few days wandering around the streets and along the river. Lydia dragged us to the Basilique - she was into architecture as well as art. The winding cobblestone streets of the old town were a delight, and we managed for find a few of the gastronomic delights without spending all our money at once.
Afterwards we trailed down to Grenoble. Mid-march and a little further south, the weather had warmed a little and spring was in the air, perfect for the hiking trails of the Alps. There was still snow about in the high places, yet it made for an amazing couple of weeks. The backpackers hostel we'd stayed in Lyon was... well, subpar would be generous. In Grenoble it was far better, yet was still dorm rooms. I was beginning to miss the girls in my bed, the warmth of their bodies as we spooned at night.
It's possible we managed to find a quiet spot on a hike where they pushed me up against a tree and blew me together, which made me feel a little better.
The next day we did a loop that took us to the Fort de la Bastille, the old military fort. The views from the top across the valley of Grenoble with the surrounding mountains were well worth the sweat. I wasn't going to complain too much about the views of the twins as they took the steps ahead of me either. And the cheese fondue when we had returned and showered was a good reward.
After we finished in France we made our way over to Spain, though most of the time was split between Madrid and Barcelona. Lydia, unsurprisingly, had a full itinerary which included four days in the Museo del Prado of course. I was quite alright with that plan, Goya being my favourite artist. I think I spent nearly two or three hours in the room with the Black Paintings alone.
Flick stood next to me at one stage. 'You know, I'm starting to wonder if we should be worried at how drawn you are to these paintings.'
I looked away from Saturn Devouring His Son. 'Why on earth do you say that? We haven't even got to Los Caprichos.'
She rolled her eyes. 'I'm going to get a coffee. You have fun, or whatever this is.'
We did three days of hiking along the Camino de Santiago, the weather warming as we were getting closer to April. While it was fine, and we clearly weren't in it for the full experience with such a short period, I think my preference remains wilderness trails.
After Spain we headed over to Berlin for a fortnight. We didn't have anything booked after this and kind of wanted to have a couple of weeks checking out the underground scene and some of the historical sites before deciding where to next. Perhaps down to Greece to lay on a beach for a while and take a break from all the awful stresses of travel and museums and art galleries. I kid, of course.
And, well, Berlin turned out to be wild.
We went to the Holocaust and Stasi museums of course, art galleries, and the remainder of the wall. Of an evening we went to the clubs.
Lydia had gone through a techno phase; some friends from high school and into first year uni and her snuck into raves for a time. They dropped off the scene before we started dating, mostly getting more into the drug side of techno than she was comfortable with. Not that we hadn't had the odd joint or tab at parties. Neither Flick nor I ever got into electronica in a big way.
We found one in Friedrichshain which had a great vibe, industrial hangers with that underground feel. At least for outsiders to Berlin it seemed that way. Called Cassiopeia, the first night we were there a DJ was doing punk rock, everything from some early Lou Reed to recent German stuff like Pascow. The two girls traded off on me when dancing, occasionally grinding in an over the top flirtatious way with each other - coming across as silly and ridiculous playfulness to anyone watching, not as a sensual couple. It still gave them a rare chance to feel each other up in public which released a bit of tension.
Being sexy twins, wearing short dresses and visible cleavage helped getting in, even when the door wasn't too strict. It did lead to some irritating come ons from other punters, male and female and everything in between. I caught a few eyes too somehow, though didn't compare. No one was too obnoxious, except one 18 year old guy with an Adam's Apple and greasy hair who pushed his luck enough until Lydia pushed him away with a palm to the chest and firmly said 'Halt.'
It was an amazing way to unwind. We were still staying in a hostel dorm room unfortunately, though the showers were a decent size and private - the three of us could fit in with a squeeze and fuck like rabbits, which after a night of teasing and dancing was badly needed. I don't know if I'd have been able to sleep with the level of arousal they'd caused.
We took a couple of nights off then Lydia found a club, Trade, which had mid week gigs. Even though it was more techno focused Flick and I were game, and Lydia bumped into some woman near the bar who offered her acid.
'When in Berlin,' I said, shrugging. Maybe not the smartest thing when travelling, but it was a cutting loose week. Besides, Lydia said the woman promised it was a pretty mellow trip.
Which it was. No weird hallucinations, just swirling colours, the heightened energy and sensory overload from really good acid.
Of course being on drugs can lead to being overly touchy feely, which is a risk for the three of us at the best of times. Luckily I had enough presence of mind to guide us towards the more poorly lit corners on the edge of the bar while the two girls grabbed at each other's butts. In the darkened bay behind what seemed like left behind scaffolding, the twins almost shyly embraced and began nuzzling their noses into the nape of their necks, giggling as they licked and kissed along their jawbones and pecked at one another's lips. Not that I could hear the giggles above the thudding bass, except that in the swirling colours of my mind they seemed to ripple through the air. The sensory overload as they touched and stroked one another seemed to take hold and minutes would pass just stroking their fingers along an arm.
Beyond the occasional surreptitious kiss or touch when out at night I had never seen them like this in public. It was electrifying. Sure it was dark enough that even were someone to come past and the strobe flicker over their faces it would be nearly impossible to tell they were sisters. For me to see them like this, finally expressing their love around others, I could feel the swelling of my cock stretching along the fabric of my underpants, the exquisite arousal from the visual stimulation in front of me.
One of them pulled me in for a kiss and there was a blur of limbs and colours and lips and tongues and I don't know how much time passed and I was leaning back against the scaffolding again and I was watching them make out my twin loves mouths locked together and I could see the motion of their cheeks and jaws as their tongues tangled together and I could feel every shift of fabric across my erection.
