Travelogue: Tamrannoch

Traveling west from the moors one finds the small town of Tamrannoch. The social hub of the town is the Falling Anvil Pub, where refreshments rub elbows with storytelling:



Nearby is the Jane Austen Memorial Park, where one might reflect on whether Pride and Prejudice is better with the zombies.



A longstanding landmark of the area is the building for the Royal Society for the Advancement of the Natural Sciences. Alas, my camera malfunctioned while taking that picture.

Another landmark on the edge of town is the Sanitorium. Once filled with patients - most of them screaming in pain, if I recall correctly - the building now stands empty, undergoing renovations, its gates firmly locked.



Next to the Sanitorium is a small chapel, perfect for praying for loved ones who might be undergoing the knife wielded by one of the butchers - er, surgeons - across the way.



Several small estates comprise the remainder of the town. Beyond the town center, the land has returned to its native state: unruly grass, wildflowers, and gently rolling hills.

A Stroll Through Tamrannoch

I realize I have been remiss in my reports about Caledon. While I putter about the Downs regularly, noting various changes that occur, I have not been as assiduous in traveling elsewhere. Living next to Tamrannoch, that sounded like a good place to start.

Starting in the northwest corner of Tamrannoch, I first encountered the estate of Mr. Ralph Doctorow, which has no building on it at the moment. Staying north of the train tracks and moving east, the next property is Calli's in Tamrannoch, owned by Miss Callipygian Christensen, the noted artist, and the gallery displays some of her work.

Next, Mr. Binyamin Blogfan has extensive holdings to the east, including a vacant parcel, a CAT tower, and, pictured below, Biny's Lowballers Inn, a charming red wood building.

On the northeast side is Poppy's Place Galleria.


Following the train tracks south, I encounter Mr. Blogfan's residence and then the Blogfan Building (pictured below), a large brick structure that contains the Caledon Oil and Gas Light Co. on the ground floor and the improbably-named Men's Pregnancy Centre and Hospital on the third floor.

After a brief fainting spell, no doubt brought on by contemplating such an event, I continued south along the tracks, coming to Miss Elgyfu Wishbring's Tin Teddy Textures.

Behind it lies the Falling Anvil tavern and beer garden.

Next is the White Horse Garden, pictured below, and owned by Lady Rhode. Across the street is Professor Nikola Swindlehurst's residence. The Professor resides next to the Sky Shop Hair Resort, on the former site of the Tamrannoch branch of the Caledon Library.

Nearing the border with the Downs and moving west we come to Madeline's Music Box and Music Box Park, where my neighbor Miss Munro sells her wonderful music boxes.

Next is the Royal Society for the Advancement of the Natural Sciences (pictured below), run by Professor Kate Nicholas, and Miss CrystalShard Foo's garden.

A great deal of empty land lies on the southern border; I believe this was owned by Mr. Alix Stoanes, Governor-General of Austral. To the north stands the imposing gates of the Tamrannoch Sanitorium, then Miss Veleda Lorakeet's Emphatic Eccentricia shop and Captain Somerset's Reliquary. Finally, having come nearly full circle, I arrive at a series of plots owned by Mr. Iason Hassanov, home of the great Steam Elephant which, in the picture below, appears to have caught something in its tusks.


This little tour reminded me how tiring covering an entire town could be!

Pitchforks and Torches

'Tis a sad day indeed when the local mad scientist feline is driven from her laboratory, ousted from Caledon by angry villagers with pitchforks and torches.

Or perhaps it didn't happen that way? In any event, Dr. Malegatto Alter has sold her ETK Laboratory, in Tamrannoch, across from the Sanitarium, and decamped to her Steelhead Port Harbor property. The neighborhood just became a little less colorful.

The lab site looks the same, for now, and is owned by a Mr. Beardmore. I can hope that we will see some world-domination plots from him in the near future.

On my way back to the Downs, I happened across this tiny kitty, resting comfortably in a barrel on the grounds of the Royal Society. Alas, not an ounce of evil in its body.