The Insider's Guide to Dimly

“Welcome to the thriving market town of Dimly! From the atmospheric, cobbled streets full of independent and highly individual businesses, to the newly built, fully equipped riverside Recreation Centre, you’ll find something to entertain and delight every interest and taste! 

Spend the day taking the sun and exploring the river gardens, or cycling the canal path, and stop for lunch at any one of our inventive, atmospheric eateries. Enjoy an evening exploring the exciting nightlife in our town centre pubs, or choose a relaxing afternoon of culture at the new School of Performing Arts & Pyrotechnics!

However you shape your visit to Dimly, it’ll be a visit to remember!”

Yeah, so that last sentence is about the only accurate part of the entire, just-published, Dimly tourist brochure.

Look, the new mayor's great. I love Gerry – everyone loves Gerry, unless they’re some twisted soul who gets miffed by a troll in a dress. He’s an optimist, and the world needs more of those. And, fair do’s to him, he’s done a lot of good for the town.

But he doesn’t half gloss over things. Listen to this:

“Whether you’re seeking relaxation or re-energising, come to the Dimly Recreation Center. Swim the long lanes of our brand-new state-of-the-art pool, or join an aqua aerobics class led by one of our qualified instructors. Grab the kids for one of the daily children's swim lessons, join an impromptu pool volleyball game, or improve your form with guidance from our professional lifeguards. We provide secure lockers, clean, well-maintained shower cubicles for all dimensions, and don't forget to stop at the cafe for some locally-made cake and fresh smoothies to refuel on your way out!”

I'm not saying he’s lying. Just … reckless optimism, y’know?

I’m also not saying don’t come to Dimly. We have our charms, and I don’t just mean the ones you can buy down the alley by the Snarling Sow pub (although they’re pretty good, most of the time. Just get there before eight p.m. After that old Klaus can get a little flippant about them, and that rarely goes well). But if you want to know what lies beyond the brochure, if you want to know the real Dimly, you need the insider's guide.

First off, that Rec Centre. The brochure’s not wrong. It’s got the swim lessons and the cafe and the lockers and all that jazz. Fantastic. But let's not forget the whole thing was built over the ruins of a sodding underground arms storage facility. One that was never cleared out before being flooded. And, okay, calling it dedicated arms storage might be pushing it, but there were definitely some arms down there. Don't know who they belonged to, and don't know if they were given willingly or if there was some dismemberment involved. But this is Dimly we're talking about. Odds are there was dismemberment involved somewhere. There's probably arms crawling all over the show down there. But yeah, I'm sure the pools floating above it are just fine.

And let's not forget that if you're playing pool volleyball with a couple of trolls and they accidentally bump into you, you’re probably going to wake up a week later in a full-body cast. Or, if you’re into aqua aerobics, one of the instructors is a sprite. Lovely person, but she keeps forgetting the rest of us can't breathe underwater. There's been at least three near-drownings, when she thought someone was just really getting into underwater squats.

The clientele can be a bit mixed, too. Last time I was there someone whipped me with a tentacle, and I've still got sucker marks on my leg. I mean, fine, I don’t think it was deliberate, and I didn't even need first aid, but I'm just saying people should keep their tentacles to themselves.

For now I’ll skip the other hazards you should watch out for at the Rec Centre, because there’s a lot, and we’ll be here all day but I will say the weight room’s surprisingly welcoming, considering it’s mostly set up to cater for dwarves and trolls. There’s always a bit of competition for the lighter gear, so get there before all the young fauns turn up and hog the ankle weights for their selfies. Also, the cafe really is good. Get the carrot cake and the mango smoothie, and thank me later.

Right, I’ve probably gone into a bit much detail there (even while barely scratching the surface), so let’s move on and take a quick look at some highlights of the rest of town. You know where I am if you want a personal guide, I can’t be giving all this stuff away for free. Ha.

The Bookshop. How this place is still running, I don't know, because old Cherie and Marie are dodgier than the fish fingers at Miskatonic Mussels, and know way too much about the old arms storage for anyone’s good. But that’s Mayor Gerry and his ultimate forgiveness kick. Which, great. Good on him. Couldn't support him more, except for the fact I once accidentally dropped a book while browsing and woke up three days later locked in a basement with words crawling out of my fingertips. Don't even know what sort of enchantment that was, but I’ve not been back since. I still wake up quoting Mary Shelley whenever there’s a thunderstorm.

Could be worse, of course. A friend of mine knocked two books off a display stand while delivering a cake, and now every time he has a pint he starts quoting some old sci-fi with very questionable attitudes to gender roles. That's got him into at least three fights, and that was only last week.

Then there’s the Riverside Walk. Gerry describes it in the brochure as:

“Bring the kids to play by the rejuvenated water’s edge, an oasis of greenery in the heart of town. Enjoy the looping canal-side bike paths, flip some tricks in the newly constructed skate park, or follow the cooling and educational nature trail through the botanical gardens.”

Okay, first off, the nature trail’s very cool. No argument there. Beautifully well-kept, and some fascinating information plaques with details you won’t find elsewhere. The dryads really outdid themselves. However, I’d advise keeping a good hold of small dogs and little kids, and possibly any older members of your party. There are at least three carnivorous plant varieties I know of in there, and while most of them will probably spit you back out, it's going to be sticky.

Secondly, don't get too close to the edge of the canal. The slush puppy gets a bit bored from time to time and likes popping out to scare passersby. Three tourists from Scotland on a lads’ weekend fell in last week. Luckily they thought it was hilarious, and, to be fair, at least part of the falling might’ve been due to the home-brewed lemonade from the Gazebo Cafe. Partake at your own risk. They haven’t bothered with a liquor license, and even if they did, I’m not sure the lemonade would even be covered. It’s … unique.

Also be aware that while the playground equipment is iron, there have been fairy circles spotted in the grass. Check the area before putting your picnic blanket down, otherwise you’re not going to be back in time for the last train home. Or at all, really.

Alright, pubs. Gerry describes eating in Dimly as a gastronomic adventure, and honestly, he’s entirely right on that count. I have to admire that troll's gift with language. However, adventure isn't necessarily positive, and I would recommend antacids, rehydration salts, and potentially a cricket bat for some of the livelier locations. Particularly if you go to the Underground Dining Club. There’s no guarantee who or what they're dining on (local’s tip: check you’re on the guest list, not the menu).

Finally, Poppy's Weird Animal Rescue. Look, I love Poppy. Everyone loves Poppy. If anyone in this world deserves a good review, it’s Poppy and her animal shelter. But I still wouldn’t visit it. Anything that looks like you can pet it is probably going to bite your arm off, and while the things which look un-pettable may be quite cuddleable, you might need to be a troll to make it work. Remember, every creature which ends up at Poppy's is there because they’ve burned down a house, levelled a village, or are otherwise a complete menace to not just society, but the world at large.

I could go on. We’ve barely got started, really. I’ve not even mentioned how local government was almost overthrown last month when the anarchic rats got a bit carried away, or that we’ve got yet another tear in dimensions out the back of the hardware store (no one’s sure where it came from, but working theory is the paint mixer accidentally created an eldritch violet), or that one of the old gardens near the river has become a breeding ground for the sort of mosquito that’ll carry small children away. Odds are someone invited some pixies in to do an odd job, and now can’t get rid of them. It happens to the best of us, but come on. Everyone knows you don’t invite pixies around. The last thing we need is a rerun of the 1974 pixie insurrection.

Anyhow! Anyone who wants to know the real Dimly (and get back in one piece, near enough*), get in touch. I can’t emphasise enough how much it’ll increase your enjoyment, and possibly your life span, particularly if you’re planning to be around at night. I’ll tailor the tour to your interests, and will include recommendations for the safer eateries, pubs, and places of interest. Book now and get a two-for-one voucher for Abyssal Ice Cream!

Questions? Booking details? Anywhere you’d like more info about? (Within reason, I need to save some material for the tour)? Hit me up in the comments!

*You will need to sign a waiver, though.

Looking for your people? Join our Toot Hansell Auxiliary community on Circle. You’ll find bonus content and a wonderful group of readers chatting about dragons, books, cake, and life in general. It’s completely free to join.