Inara Pey: Living in a Modemworld
Second Life, virtual worlds and virtual realities
A Frogmore Christmas Region from Tolla Crisp and Terry Fotherington. Enjoy your stay in our Swedish inspired winter village.
– Winterset Hollow About Land.
From time-to-time in these pages I’ve asserted that holding a complete region, be it Full or Homestead, is not a prerequisite to being able to design a setting which can be opened for public enjoyment. What matters is not the size of the land held, but the creativeness in using it, and I’ve offered numerous examples of this through these pages: parcels within a region which have been carefully and lovingly curated to present an engaging and inviting place to visit.
Another example of such a location is November Rain, a 4096 sq metre parcel sitting within a Full region, and in which Semina (Semiiina) – Sem to her friends and fans – has established a cosy, atmospheric setting where people can come, explore, take photos and listen to music.
Come and explore the autumn themed café: November Rain. Grab an umbrella, take lots of pictures and meet new friends. Curl up with a hot drink in the Café and listen to live music and the sound of autumn rain.
November Rain About Land
I was alerted to the café’s existence by reader Morgana Carter, who IM’d me the SLurl and a note after my recent piece on three Mainland cafés (see The coffee houses of Heterocera in Second Life), suggesting it might be a suitable addition to that series. Whilst clearly not on the Mainland, after visiting November Rain, I had to agree that the setting did deserve being written about (in fact, I’m not alone in this, given the location has recently been featured in the official blog).
Located on a sky platform, this is a setting that doesn’t need a lot of description in terms of exploring and looking out from things; it is small enough to get around easily, and the focal point is obviously the café in terms of where to go. What I will say is the to appreciate the setting fully, visitors should used the local environment settings (menu World → Environment → Used Shared Environment).
This is because November Rain is richly atmospheric, the environment settings reinforcing the sense of the month in the Northern Hemisphere, a time when autumn is definitely on the wane, the days are shortening and darkening, the weather is on the turn with rain and leaden skies – but there is also a promise of winter and the romance of snow and starry skies lies just over the horizon, complete with cups of hot chocolate and roaring fires.
The stone-built café sits at the end of a gate path winding through the surrounding trees. A large sign to one side of the landing point offers links to the expected info on the setting, its guidelines and the opportunity to join the local events group. A link to a calendar of events is also provided, although at the time of my visit this appeared to be largely devoid of dates. Still in bloom, the woodlands around the café offer and assortment of details to discover: a fox curled up sleep here, a reindeer with antlers strung with lights there, a vixen with her cubs sheltering from the rain falling from the evening sky, cats playing on the front porch…
Inside, the two rooms of the café offer a warm and decidedly cosy setting, the first room offering couch seating and the café’s serving counter with a rich selection of cakes and drinks suitable for the festive season. More seating can be found in the second room, together with a stage for live music sessions and a small dance area underneath the skylight. For those who like the outdoors, a table and chairs can be found under a parasol next to the front door to the café, while back among the trees is a romantic little hideaway.
Compact, rich in detail with plenty of opportunities for photography (limited rezzing available to group members, but please pick up after yourself if you make use of it). November Rain is a delightful visit.
It’s fairly well established through the pages of this blog that I have a thing for regions with a Far Eastern design, whether they are intended to offer a Japanese setting, a Chinese setting or a fusion of the two. Learning about such places (particularly if they are intended for public visits, rather than focused on residential settings!) tends to have me reaching for my camera and then mashing the teleport button.
So when Ryū Ojo (Sosaki) sent me an invite to visit her Full region design of Oshu, it moved pretty much to the top of my list of places to visit and start prepping a post about. However, on my arrival I quickly realised that rather than following my usual practice of visiting a region, exploring and writing notes, then returning to later to photograph and blog, this was a place I had to write about immediately – although in fairness to Ryū, she is still working on the final details within the region, so if you do drop in on reading the post around the time it is published and see some unfinished elements – blame me for being too keen to write about it, not Ryū!
Oshu is Ryū’s first full region build, and she has gone all out with it, opting to use the additional Land Capacity option available to Full private regions. In doing so, she has created what is effectively a tranquil setting cast with a Japanese theme that is completely timeless in nature. When exploring, you feel you could just as easily be in a remote part of modern-day Japan, far removed from the hustle, noise and heat of city life in the modern era as you could setting foot into a feudal province in the country’s Edo period. However, also awaiting discovery are elements which offer visitors a touch of fantasy and of futurism.
No formal landing point hand been set at the time of my visit, although Ryū indicated to me one would eventually be set, complete with a welcome area, so things many change in this regard when you visit when compared to the description of my explorations below. That said, my wanderings commenced in the north-east uplands of the setting, where a board meadow backs itself against the off-region surround.
This is the first indication of the care Ryū has been taking in designing the region, carefully blending it along the northern edge and to the west and east with the surround, giving the impression that the region is part of a greater landscape, one rising to high mountain peaks as can be found throughout the islands of Japan, their foothills blanket in rich woodlands.
This meadow is itself a place of mystery; great standing stones lie within the shade of autumnal Japanese maples, their general colour and look suggesting then have been hewn from the rock strata running through the region (including thrusting up through the grasslands of the meadow), but who may have roughly formed and erected them is a mystery. Upslope from the meadow, and backed by a ridge of rock, is a stone arch. Perhaps it may have once been part of a larger structure with some connection with the standing stones, although its carved nature suggests that it is of later origins than the standing stones. Lit by a shimmering green light, it is in fact an experience-based portal offering a connection with Naruru Bay, a modern-era role-play-focused Homestead region.
The core of the region is focused on a small settlement surrounded by trees. At the time of my visit, these were still being furnished, with the largest being built over a pond, falls to one side allowing the water to tumble to a smaller pond and thence over larger falls which step there way down over southern cliffs to where a channel meanders out to the south-side bay.
This settlement is an utterly tranquil location, the trees shading it from the Sun (and hiding it from view), the paths and terraces linking the houses to Zen gardens, and bridges spanning the waters, all watched over by dragons either made of bronze or flying free. As well as its sense of serenity, the settlement contains the greatest sense of timelessness within the region, while a long stone stairway descends the slope below the west side Zen garden, pointing the way down to the southern bay and a temple of light built out over the waters.
Time should be spent exploring the region, as it offers many points of interest and detail. Wildlife and domestic animals can be found throughout, as well as elements of fantasy – the aforementioned dragon, a kitsune statue and, for those who seek it out, a hidden secret.
The latter is not easy to find, but it lies beneath the settlement: a series of tunnels winding down to a series of caverns where huge fungi grow, and a path might be found passing from cavern to cavern to eventually come to two pairs of doors. At the time of my visit, the entrance to these tunnels came by way of passing through a tall curtain of water and then carefully treading between it and another; however, Ryū noted to me this may change.
However, these tunnels further contain another aspect of the timeless mix within the region: the tunnels leading down to the caverns appear to have been cut suing modern tools and are lit by electric lights, suggesting they were made using tools of a later era than the Edo looks of the settlement. The caverns, meanwhile have that sense of fantasy, whilst the pairs of double doors take visitors into a sci-fi like set of rooms of unknown purpose (again, at least at the time of my visit).
For a first-time Full region build, Oshu is engaging and richly detailed and something for which Ryū should be justifiably proud. Primarily designed for photographer / explorers, Ryū also indicated to me it might also offer some degree of role-play (possibly connected to Naruru Bay given the presence of the portal), although time will likely tell on this. In the meantime, this is a destination well worth visiting, and which I hope Ryū will submit to the Destination Guide when she is happy with the design, so that it might be appreciated by folk from across SL.
In looking through my Exploring Second Life archives, I was surprised to note that it’s getting on for two years since my last visit to Sharon Hinterland’s Otter Lake, a place which has relocated since my last visit in February 2020, so I took a quick TP to renew my acquaintance.
The last time I dropped in, the region offered a rural location, rich in a layer of realism (as with the first time I visited in 2019) which made it instantly attractive and memorable. The rural element has been retained with this iteration, but mixed with certain waterfront small town feel. For those already finding locations in SL a little cold from the northern winter setting many are already hosting, Otter Lake retains (for now at least!) a feeling of summer and warmer days.
A tranquil place to hang out with friends, listen to ambient music, or to walk about and explore. If you’re a photographer come by and take some amassing photos. This is not a rental sim, so come explore the , town, take a walk or ride around the sim.
– Otter Lake About Land
The “real” sensibilities folded in the region commence at the landing point. Located on the north side of the region, it takes the form of vehicular ferry drawn up to a wharf, giving the sense that visitors have just cross the waters separating the region from the surrounding hills. The ferry perhaps came via the river winding into the waters from the north and a ferry terminus that might lie somewhere along its length.
Those arriving are offered a note card to introduce the setting, noting that it is not residential, and entirely open to exploration and photography.
This card also points out the setting has, as far as possible, been built along a natural scale, meaning that avatars with an average height in excess of 2 metres might suffer from headaches when trying to pass through doorways, and camera positions (especially those offered as a default on the official viewer and those TPVs using the official viewer’s defaults) may require adjustment to avoid being stuck behind intervening walls and ceilings. To help with this, those using the official camera defaults might want to read the following: Tutorial: Viewer Camera Presets in this blog.
A paved road runs south from the ferry wharf. Follow it, and it will lead you all the way to the southern coast of the region before turning east and then back north to reach the the waterfront town. Here the road passes between the water’s edge and squat apartment blocks with shops and places of business on their street-level floors. A second road runs behind these buildings, separating them from the woodland at the heart of the region and the places they in turn hide from view.
Two routes branch from the main road as it runs south from the the ferry wharf. The first offers a shorter route to the town, looping past the local garage along the way. The second is where a junction in the paved road gives way to the rutted track running to the west through the woods and forking to offer access to the west side of the setting, and a very rural mix the is rich in its composition.
Here can be found wooden buildings both set back from the water and braced against it. From the fishing lodge through the stores and bait shop, one half of these waterfront areas seems to be from a bygone era, with vehicles dating from the 1930s through 1950s. Touring it, I gained a slight Bayou vibe to the place, added to by the the more tumbledown waterfront huts to the north.
However, given the surrounding mountains, the stone-built houses and the modern floatplane moored at the fishing lodge, this vibe quickly faded to give way to one more fitting: that of a remote place deep in the wilderness somewhere in the America or Canada, accessible as something of a place far removed from the rest of civilisation, surviving by its own merits as both a place to visit and a remote spot open to fishing vacations, with patrons flying in via the floatplane, if they so wish.
All of the cabins, houses, ground-level stores, the places of business, the shops and garages are furnished and open to visitors to explore and / or use for photography. Rezzing of props is open to Otter Lake group members (with the group free to join) – but as always, please make sure you pick things up when done!
As always, an engaging, worthwhile visit – and keep an eye out for some “hidden” sitting spots within the woodlands.
Following a suggestion from Suzie Anderton, I jumped back to Vivian Ewing’s Where Our Journey Begins, which I last visited back towards the start of the year to catch its 2022 wintertime dressing once more.
Back in February, the setting was blooming into an early spring and offered an engaging mix of places to explore among the trees and flowers as they threw a rich palette of colour across the region. Now, with the closing of the year, the setting is very much folded in a blanket of winter snow and seasonal elements in readiness for the coming holidays and celebrations.
Visits commence at the main landing point in the south-east corner of the region, the land stretching away to the north-west, a large ribbon lake crossing it diagonally from south-west to north-east. The latter is shouldered at its northern extremes by a curtain of rock to one side, similar to the curtain cliffs backing the landing point and possibly part of the same upward thrust of rock, and on the other by a plateau crowned but winter cabins.
From the landing point beneath the great iron gazebo in which it sits, visitors have a choice of exploration routes by which to discover the rest of the setting. Turn right a short walk from the gazebo, and the path leads to snowy box hedgerows enclosing an small terrace. A path from here runs down to the water’s edge to one side of the region, whilst a second points north, passing a corral where horses are held and a rezzer is available should you wish to explore the region on horseback, before the path branches once more.
Take the left arm of the fork, and the way is clear to wander along the southerly shore of the lake and even reach its icy surface. Places to sit and rest can be found along this route, ranging from a little campsite through water’s edge gazebo warmed by a log fire to a cosy little hut standing within sight of a high bridge spanning the lake – of which more anon.
Meanwhile, the right arm of the fork quickly crosses a covered bridge spanning the banks of a little stream – also frozen – to reach a fenced trail which also skirts the lake as it runs up and around the north-east head of the waters. From here, it runs onwards and westwards, passing over steps and between gates to reach the local (and festive!) village snuggled under the aforementioned plateau. Rides and seasonal kiosks have been set out on the village square, the lights of the houses glowing brightly beyond before the sheer face of the rocky highlands intervene between village and hilltop cabins.
The latter are reached via a further route of exploration leading away from the landing point. It sits beyond the snow-frosted gates at the end of the path leading outwards from the landing point gazebo, and a snow-dusted path meanders upwards through hoar-frosted trees to where an unexpected sight awaits: Santa’s cabin, complete with the jolly old man sitting outside, his elves keeping things moving. Flagstones arc their way around the cabin to lead to the bridge mentioned above and, across it, a single-track road providing access to the cabins.
Fully furnished and separated from the rest of the region as they are, these cabin offer their own setting and opportunities for photography both indoors and out.
This latter point is what makes this iteration of Where Our Journey Begins; while the region comes together as a single setting, it is laid out in such a way as to offer multiple little vignettes offering their own opportunities for enjoyment and photography, all rich in detail and with enough space between them so as visitors needn’t feel as if they are tripping over one another as the explore.
As with previous iterations of Where Our Journey Begins, Snowtide – as this version has been called – is a genuine delight to visit. My thanks to Suzie again for the pointer.
