Category: Reviews

Finian’s Dream has been a destination that’s been on our list since the region officially opened; in fact it is one that has given rise to a few recommendations coming my way in the time since (thank you Miro, et al), with the only reason for a delay in dropping in is to allow the initial rush of visitors to be over, so we can creep around and peek at things without getting in the way of others too much.

Designed by Noralie78 of Lost Unicorn Forest fame (read here for more), the region’s description is perfectly offered by her through an introductory note card that can be obtained at the landing point:

Welcome to Finian’s Dream! This beautiful land is in celebration of old Celtic Ireland with a touch of magic 🙂 Ireland is known for its many mystical secrets of the forest…after all, that’s where fairies came from! Walk through the deep and magical woods, you might just make some discoveries along the way. Stop by the pub and allow Donngal to make you a drink while you watch Rowan perform her Irish dance (no she never gets tired :P).

This is a place that harks back to a time when Ireland’s many forests were united to cover much of the land; a place where Ireland’s legends and myths may well have been born. wreathed in mist and caught in a perpetual dusk. In this realm, awaiting discovery, is so much.

From the landing point, the forest, deep in shadow beckons; a place where tiny fairies flit and fly.  Statues and glades with stone circles, the air within them cut by slanting Moonlight, await along natural trails a paths set wide between broad tree trunks that hold aloft the covering blanket of branches and leaves.

A stream cuts through the forest with logs, either fallen or felled, providing crossing points over it, pointing the way to where a rutted cart track skirts the woodlands. Follow this in one direction, and it leads the way to where stone steps climb the region’s uplands, in the other it offers the way to open farmlands presided over a homely cottage and a lone windmill. Here the land is cut neatly by dry stone walls, home to sheep and cattle.

Above the farm and the canopy of trees, the highlands form a stepped plateau, home to a stone castle that commands the land and those surrounding it. The Irish tricolour hangs above the castle’s portcullis, casting a more recent time to the setting (the flag was a gift to Ireland in 1848, but not officially adopted until the early 20th century), which makes it a slight anachronism given the sense of age and history invoked by the rest of the region.

Within the castle can be found a marvellous display of CybeleMoon’s fabulous digital art, which is keeping with the setting, echoing as it does the rich sense of history and legend evoked by the design. Also to be found with the region are three story givers that relate famous Irish legends as narrated by SL resident Sukibombuki Resident.

With the heavy mists, the hidden farm beyond the woods, the cottage in the forest and the twilight sky, its not hard to imagine this is some form of Irish Brigadoon – a place cut off from the rest of the world, filled with its own mystery that, rather than appearing once a century, can only be found  by wandering deep into the older IrishfForests and following the path that brings you to this mystical, magical place.

Beautifully conceived and executed, Finian’s Dream is a place that is gorgeous to witness, lovingly put together by the hands and eyes that make Lost Unicorn such a joy to visit.

SLurl Details

• Finian’s Dream (Celtic Mist, rated Moderate)

The Getaway – Nutmeg is a homestead region designed by Jacky Macpherson, and towards which we were steered by Shawn Shakespeare.

It’s a wonderfully simple design that is delightful in its attractive minimalism; the kind of place where description is superfluous, simply because its allure is entirely self-evident on arrival.

Two islands, split by a narrow, meandering channel and with shorelines partially formed by low-lying rocks, gently rise out of the surrounding waters. One rises just a few metres above the misty seas, the other somewhat – but not much – higher, thanks to its single, humped hill. Simple plank bridges cross the channel between them, as if stapling them together in an attempt to keep them from going their separate ways as they drift on the tide.

The larger of the two islands is home to the landing point and a single, open-plan cabin with deep-set verandahs. Cosily furnished and open to the public, the cabin has a fence for its neighbour, one that runs across the island as if cutting it into two and keeping the cabin separated from the only other man-made structure of significant substance to be found here: a sun-faded barn that is apparently home to a flea market, and which is also open to public visits, despite the fence.

The landing point sits between two fences that run – for a short distance at least – north-to-south, pointing the way both towards the  cabin and to the northern headland over which gulls wheel. A similar pair of fences curl in part around the hill of the second island, marking a routine around its northern flank, while the hill itself is crowned by a sunken tree that raises its boughs in scrub-like abandonment, and a comfortable looking hammock.

Covered in the coarse hair of wild grass and studded with silver birch and a few mountain pine, The Getaway – Nutmeg sits under a windlight sky and over a white sea that are both perfect for photography – as is the setting as a whole. Exploring is easy on the eye, as is the subtle richness of detail, with lots of little touches awaiting discovery.

But as I noted, lengthy descriptions of the region are superfluous, it speaks loudly, clearly and attractively for itself, making a visit more than worth the time taken to drop in and explore.

SLurl Details

• The Getaway – Nutmeg (The Getaway, rated Moderate)

In October 2013, a 7.2-magnitude earthquake struck the province of Bohol, Philippines, inducing about 1m land subsidence to some of its small island communities. Now, the islands of Batasan, Pangapasan, Ubay and Bilangbilangan of the Municipality of Tubigon experience partial or complete flooding even during normal spring tides. Coming face-to-face with a hundred years’ worth of sea level rise, the island communities show that they are far more resilient than we think.

This is the introduction to Racing the King Tide, a film and website looking at the impact of the 2013 Philippines earthquake that was centred on the island district of Bohol had on the people and islands close to its epicentre. One of these islands – perhaps the most deeply affect of them all – is tiny Ubay, which is the central inspiration for Serene Footman’s latest region design in Second Life, and which opened to the public on March 3rd.

Called, appropriately enough, Ubay Island, the setting offers a marvellous reproduction of little Ubay – which is less than 4 acres in size – perhaps as seen in the the time period immediately after the earthquake had struck the region. As is always his way, Serene has provided a comprehensive blog post to accompany the build, and I cannot recommend enough that it should be read alongside any visit to Ubay in-world, as it really puts the build into perspective. Through his writing, Serene provides not only a lens through which to view the build, but also wider context on on the earthquake, its impact on the peoples of Ubay Batasan, Pangapasan and Bilangbilangan.

The build presents Ubay as it appears for around 130-140 days a year: flooded to a typical depth of some 45cm (1.5 ft) – although tidal ranges can make the actual waters deeper. The flooding is a combined result of both rising sea level de to climate change – and which ultimately threaten Ubay’s future – and the fact that the 2013 ‘quake saw a mean decrease in elevation of a metre (3ft) within the area where Ubay is located (an collapse that also gave rise to The Great Wall of Bohol on Bohol island itself), leaving the island’s maximum elevation when dry at just 2.32 m (7.2 ft) above the surrounding sea level.

Under the default windlight the water is a dirty, brackish grey / brown – a reminder, perhaps that flood waters can carry with them dirt, mud, animal manure and human wastes which can be hazardous to health – with wooden walk ways partially winding through the village streets in an effort to keep passing feet dry. In this, the setting has the feel of depicting Ubay not long after the earthquake struck; more recently, much has been done (starting with an imitative by the islanders themselves before they received external support), to raise the village footpaths above the average level of the flood waters.

The landing point sits within the local school playground, a location which is both touching and somewhat ironic. Touching, as Serene has captured the graffiti marking one of the playground walls that reminds us of the lives the adults and children of the island face: This Is Where We Play. The irony is that on the actual island of Ubay, the playground was supposed to be the evacuation assembly point should the island be at risk of flooding – but in 2013, it was one of the first places to be submerged.

You might think that given the state of the island, it would have been long deserted – and you’d be wrong. Despite the earthquake, despite the continued and very real threat of rising sea levels as a result of climate change, the people of Ubay steadfastly hold on to their homes and way of life, up to and including the annual threat of typhoons wiping the village off the face of the planet.

This might sound like a case of local hubris, but it’s not. With some 74% of the population living below the national poverty line even before the 2013 earthquake, there is simply nowhere else in the Philippines where the peoples of Ubay and its neighbours can survive. This was proven in the period following the 2013 ‘quake when the 300-ish Ubay islanders were made to evacuate to the “mainland”, and almost all of them quietly moved back to island as it was the only place they could survive as fisher folk. In doing so, they have given Ubay its ray of hope.

Serene has tried to capture this sense of life as well: fishing boats lie in the waters around the village, chairs are set out on raised “porches”, ribbons festoon some of the village paths, clothes are set out to dry in the sun and breeze even as the waters pass under the lines on which they are hung, and so on. Someone has even enterprisingly set-up a stage for a music concert while boat repair yards are still in business. True, one or two liberties may have been taken (for example, the  Racing the Tide website, for example, infers that the half-submerged house that’s included in the build may be at Bilangbilangan Island rather than Ubay), but none of this spoils the setting in any way – rather, they enhance it.

Set as it is under a heavy sky, with its muddied waters and the ruins of buildings pulled down by the earthquake, and its shanty-like corrugated metal walls and roof tops, you might think that Ubay is a bit of a dismal place in SL to visit, but this simply isn’t so. Serene offers something that is once again captivating, poignant and with a depth of story behind it that should not be missed.

Related Links

• Ubay Island (Arcole, rated General)
• Serene’s blog post on Ubay Island
• Racing the King Tide website
• Racing the King Tide video