A Bit of Tim:

If you leave the great continent and follow the westerly winds across the vast and stormy sea you will come upon what sailors call the Great Calm. This stretch of ocean has no wind or currents, so that rotting and aged ships flounder about aimlessly, manned by lonely and forlorn ghosts who stare at the horizon for eternity, dreaming of home. However, sometimes the lucky sailor will feel a fresh and balmy breeze against his sun scorched cheeks and, if he sets his sail just right, he’ll slowly drift southward. After a time in which the ship barely seems to move and just when all hope seems lost, a small speck appears on the horizon, accompanied by the smell of rich earth and hibiscus and cinnamon. This is the island of Halciana

I'll post about my awesome birthday dinner later.