Shave of the day, 29th April 2021, PAA Agharta (A PAA Story Part 2)

Pre-Shave : Shower, PAA Cube
Brush : Oumo 26mm SHD HMW Silvertips
Soap : PAA Agharta
Razor : PAA Meta4 w/Feather Blade (2)
Post Shave : PAA Agharta Star Jelly Aftershave and Aftershave Cologne
Others : PAA Scentless Deodorant and Agharta Epic Solid Cologne

(The Star Jelly is in a different dispenser bottle as the original cracked and broke during transit. Luckily it was Star Jelly and was able to salvage most of it)

Yesterday’s Al Fin shave and short story had me thinking, could I string a PAA Journey to tell a tale that people would want to read? Would they enjoy it, assuming that they’d want to read a wall of text?
Visited by the Muse Caliope or maybe it was Clio, I get confused, you guess it, there is another “short story” (or a wall of text!).

Anyways, back to the shave!
Today’s shave is Agharta.
Doug calls it the “Barbershop scent of the Underground” (I think, or was it someone else?) but whatever you want to call it, it’s freaking awesome! It is often overlooked and overshadowed by its more glamourous sister scents.


Spring of 1871

Phileas Phog set down a book by one by Saint-Yves d’Alveydre, and pondered for a moment.
“Aghata.” He mumbled in his musings.
“There’s something to this. James! James! Where is that man?”

“Here sir.” Said James Forster as he appeared at the doorway. He never liked Mr. Phog, that rich arrogant twat but he kept his feelings to himself.
If anything, Mr Phog pays well and brings him along in his travels.

“James! There you are, hurry now, pack our bags. We are going to Tibet!”


Summer of 1871

A very miserable, wet and chilled James Forster sat huddled in cave with an equally dismal Phileas Phog.
“Come to Tibet in the summer they said, it’ll be warm they said, but bloody hell, when it rains, it comes down like a bloody waterfall!” Grumbled Mr Phog.

They had searched the mountains of Tibet for two weeks for the fabled entrance to Agharta, finding of course nothing.

None of the monks they spoke to had any knowledge of the place, or if they did, they weren’t saying.
One monk however, suggested they look South East of Mount Kailash as there was a rumored holy shrine that might show them the way but would not say anything more.

For almost two weeks Phileas and James searched the Kailash range to no avail and then, the Monsoons came.
Howling winds and torrential rain made any further exploration a miserable affair.

A loud crash of thunder broke Phileas’s musings. He was ready to call the expedition off. Money and time was already wasted on this trip and he would be a laughing stock at the Reform Club for going on this one.

Another crack of lightning, thunder and a gust of wind made him involuntary flinch and moved deeper into the cave.
He hated the cold, it was part of the reason why he traveled so often, merry old England he thought, more like cold and wet England.

Looking around he realized that the cave he is in, is deeper than he initially thought.
“Come James, lets look around this cave, might as well see if we can find a more comfortable spot out of the wind.” Phileas said through chattering teeth, he really hated the cold.

Moving further back into the cave, they found a thin crevice, wide enough for only one man to squeeze through.
“Master Phog, do you think it is wise to proceed further?” Asked James.

Phileas didn’t answer and kept walking further deeper in.
James rolled his eyes at Mr Phog’s back muttering silently about spoiled rich men.

In truth, Phileas barely heard James’s question. His intuition perhaps, or a greater power called him to go deeper, further into the cave.
After several minutes of squeezing through the narrow passage, they exited into an large cul de sac.

Their lamp light barely reaching, only dimly lighting the back wall.
What they could see clearly however were rubble and what looked like to be a crude table, an altar perhaps.

“James! I think we found …” Said Phileas but trailed off as he noticed that the table or altar was too far damaged to make out what it was originally for.
Closer examination showed that at one point there was text on around the edges of the altar and perhaps a map of sorts etched in its center but most of the etching was too far gone to make out any details or what was said.

Phileas did however recognize that portions of the text he could see, was nothing like anything written in the region.
“James, give me paper and charcoal please.”
James dutifully handed him the items and Phileas very carefully made rubbings of the text where possible.


October 1872 – The Reform Club

“Where is your valet Mr. Phog?” Lord Kelvin quipped, his voice laced with malicious glee.

Phileas was not in the mood.
He had been the butt of several jokes ever since his return from the Tibetan Range and he was still waiting for the translation of the rubbings to arrive.

“I let him go. I told the man, water for my shaves has to be 30 degrees Celsius and not a degree colder. The other day the water he brought was 28 degrees. He is incompetent. Besides I have hired another, a Frenchman, he might have an accent but at least he can do his duties diligently.”

“28 degrees you say, you measured it?” Said Lord Kevin with an arched eyebrow. In the background a guffaw sounded.
Phileas’s eye twitched and he ground his teeth but said nothing.

“Here now, what do you gentlemen think of the new railway in India?” Asked a member of the club.
” Would make going around the world in 100 or so days possible.” Said Lord Kevin.

Phileas thought about the railway and his travels, did a little mental calculation and said “No, I can do it in 80 days.”


An uproar, a huge argument by all in the club and a 20,000 pound bet later, Lord Kelvin smiled.
That money was a good as his and he would ruin Phileas Phog.
The man had left with his Frenchman valet, a small man, what’s his name, Pasbatoot, or something of that nature.

He looked up as a messenger boy came into the Club, “Telegram for Mr. Phog! Mr Phileas Phog!”

Lord Kelvin’s lips turn up into a larger smile.
“He just left boy, but I can take that for him.”
“I am sorry sir.” Said the boy, “This is a personal message from the American Gentleman’s and Exploratory Club …”
“I tell you what son, I’ll pass that on for you and…” Lord Kelvin pulled out a single pound note, “This is for you and your diligent work.”

The boy eyed the money, it was far more money he’d earn in a day.
“Yes milord. Please pass on the message to Mr Phog. Have a good day!” taking the money and leaving the telegram in Lord Kelvin’s hands.

Lord Kelvin waited till the door shut behind the boy before opening and reading the message.

“Words were in ancient Greek. We could only make out a few, “Atlantis” and “Seek out The Other.” Please contact us as soon as possible.”

Lord Kelvin laughed.


Hope you enjoyed that good as zero “proofreading” wall of text 😁.

Be safe
Be sane
Be happy

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