The Cock-eyed Caucasus

Remember what happened last night? Good. Now tell the world.

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TheDrunkardAnglo
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Re: The Cock-eyed Caucasus

Post by TheDrunkardAnglo »

Day 5

I wake up I look at my watch. It is eleven o'clock. No way my pal is going to be up at this time. This is all considering the events of the previous evening, usually he's up far before 11.00. Anyway, I go back to sleep. In and out of sleep. Generally I feel OK. I use it as an opportunity to rest my sweet little legs. The seven hills of Istanbul were a real bitch.

My friend is up at around 14.00/15.00 we have a wash, get ready and explore the old city. Interesting but no drinking. We walk across the boulevard overlooking the caspian sea. Still no drinking. Everywhere we go is dry. One cafe served us an Irish coffee without the Irish!

We had to get out... fast. Sadly in a land of authoritarian leaders they like multi lane highways going through the center of their city. I think it's to do with fitting tanks for parades. This results in a painful amount of time searching for underpasses and zebra crossings. We find them, and with each discovery we feel like Phileas Fogg, this is because the frequency of said underpasses and zebra crossings are shockingly low.

Anyway at this stage a whole day has been filled with undrunkenness. We come up with a plan. We return to our beloved Irish pub. Finnegans. It's packed. I catch the bar maid's eye, she remembers me and pours our order following the gesture for two. I grab the drinks and shout "fancy seeing you here" over a few Azerbaijani men. She laughs. We sit with the beer, listening to the live music, smoking and doing a good past time of people watching.

My fellow drunkards, it was quite a shock that evening. There were a lot of women in the bar. Most of them were hot. On closer inspection my friend mentions to me that there is a super hot blonde with a tuchus that could bring us global peace. I see and I'm mesmerised. It also appeared she was drinking with her dad, which was sweet. What was less sweet, my dear reader, was when he started rubbing her inner thigh. Oh boy, was he not her dad but rather her sugar daddy?

On another table there was what I think was an Arab man and a few Russians. The Arab gentleman was approaching many different women in the bar, several batted him away, though this did not damage the man's confidence. Finally he got into a conversation with one lady, and there was shortly a group of women joining their table. I was surprised considering the look of this posse of deviants. I then notice a man without a drink with only what can be described as a bum bag walk up and down the bar checking on the ladies.

"Fucking hell" my friend says "they're all prostitutes". He was right. The lady with the Nobel award winning tuchus left with her elder client and was back half an hour later talking to another punter.

We were later approached by a Georgian woman who was wearing a top which exaggerated a certain asset of hers. She introduces herself, and says she's a dentistry student. If she was a student she did indeed face one hell of a freshers week. Must have been like Gallapoli. She then makes a wise crack about my teeth, I reply "я Англичанин" she laughs. I grab a cigarette, offer one to my friend and offer one to her. She then grabs it from the packet with her mouth, I think trying to be seductive. I regret to say if anything it was a tragic and embarrassed display.

My friend unfortunately leaves me briefly to take a piss. She then asks if I'd like sex. I reply "извините, нет деньги" she looks disappointed says "не проблема" and walks away rather quickly.

It is now clear to me that the bar is a favourite stop for night fighters picking up foreigners. It's a bit of a shame but what can you do. I read online that unfortunately this is common in Baku's pubs, thankfully you don't really get propositioned too much, and when you make it clear you have no money they do leave you alone.

At this point the Arab gentleman and his group of Russian friends are buying more and more drinks for their prostitutes. The big chubby Russian is shouting "красивая" to one of the prostitutes as she does some rather odd dancing dangerously close to our table.

Another one is now dancing on a table in the corner almost sort of stripper moves. Twirling the hips. I understand the technical term for the move is "slut drop". I hate to admit this, but, It was entertaining.

At the end I decided the only women in this bar I'll attempt to flirt with are the bar staff, as the only tab I'm willing to pay is my bar tab. We sit at the bar and I converse with the bar maid as she pours our beers. Asking her to give me a few Azerbaijani phrases. I think she's enjoying the attention. I guess in a bar which is filled with working girls the barmaids don't quite get the attention. A bit of a shame.

The Georgian prostitute is now back she reintroduces herself to us. She appears to be drugged. She asks us our names, we had told her previously. Two minutes later she throws out the same question. She starts trying to rub my friends cock. He keeps on having to remove her hand. "Нет деньги" we repeat. She leaves again.

The bar closes we get back to the apartment it's 5am.
Major Strasser: What is your nationality?
Rick: I'm a drunkard.
Captain Renault: That makes Rick a citizen of the world.

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Re: The Cock-eyed Caucasus

Post by TheDrunkardAnglo »

Day 6

We wake up late again. Go to this coffee shop that we've become fond of. They roast their own coffee and all the staff seem to be incredibly passionate about their coffee. I get a little filter v60 coffee.

We go to the Azerbaijani state museum. Spent the time mainly being followed around by Azerbaijani babushkas aggressively telling me off for using Russian instead of Azerbaijani. Well, sorry love, I only attempt Azerbaijani when I'm trying to flirt with Azerbaijani bar maid's and waitresses.

We stop for a few cigars and then head back to the apartment to charge our phones.

We head out, grab some dinner, and then head for some bars further out. I think its the Turkic part of town. Each bar has the Azerbaijan flag next to the Turkish one. We find out pretty quick many of the bars do not take cards. Fuck, my friend comes up with the idea of paying for our drinks with a £5 note. They're reluctant at first until he shows them the conversation. They check the note in the light, not sure what they're trying to achieve.

One of them comes back with a glass full of change. My friend refuses it typing into google translate "for your trouble". The chap is overwhelmingly happy. He says "tip?" We nod. He fist bumps us and we finish our drinks and head off to another, but one that takes card.

The next one filled with Turkish looking men, but the beer was £1.60 a pint. We then move back towards the normal bar area.

We find this bar called hops. It's a football bar with scarves. I mention to my friend that it's a disgrace they have an Aston Villa scarf on display but not a Crystal Palace one. This my fellow drunkards is when the night becomes more eventful for all the wrong reasons.

A scouse accent whines across the bar "why are you supporting a shit team like Crystal Palace?" At the end of that whiny echo lays a bearded Liverpudlian with ear stretchers. We end up talking and join him and his much younger Finnish wife with a lazy eye.

We talk of socialism. Current events. And a lot about him. He was a generally interesting guy, and we had enjoyed drinking with them both.

Hops closes, we head to Finnegans. It's thankfully empty. The bar maid was very happy to see me and she asks me about London, stating that she wants to try a roast dinner with a Yorkshire pudding. She asks me about Peaky Blinders, I've never actually seen it but still I throw out some bullshit. Finnegans closes up and she gives me a little hug as we move onto the next place.

The scouser is very keen to go to one of these underground clubs. He's quoted a price. We're in, the price is ten Azerbaijani manat more. Which works out to be £5 more. A pain, but to be expected on these dodgy kind of bars.

The scouser isnt having it. We leave the beers without touching them. We are then surrounded by nine bouncers. The scouser and his finnish wife were getting very aggressive. The tension was building. Thankfully they talk it out and the price is reduced to the originally quoted price. We pay and take our drinks.

The finnish wife was still not happy and threw the drink down screaming she doesn't want it.

We leave. The guy outside who quoted the price. Made a comment about this behaviour and said come back tomorrow.

The scouse shouted "you're talking about my wife". We walking down the street and fuck yous are flying in both directions. Me and my friend are like just leave it. The Azerbaijani guy then punched the scouse guy, and the scouse gut hits the Azerbaijani guy with his tin of tonic. Fuck sake I think, we need to get out of this shit.

My friend tries to de-escalate the situation and some punches are thrown in his direction. He's thankfully nimble on his toes and avoided any serious damage.

I on the other hand follow my instincts as a true coward and observe from a suitably safe distance. I'm not going to get my head kicked in because a financially frugal scouser likes to have a scrap after a few drinks.

We walk off. I look over my shoulder and we're being followed by a gang of five Azerbaijanis. Fucking hell.

I'm not too proud to say I was scared in this moment. We walk towards the French Embassy knowing that there are a number of police there.

I understand the Scouser said to the police that nine guys tried to mug him. He shows where they were coming from and I understand the police went out looking for them.

We go back to the Scouser and his Finnish wife's flat and drink all their beer. The scouser fell asleep and started snoring we left.

We got to our apartment for 7.00am.
Major Strasser: What is your nationality?
Rick: I'm a drunkard.
Captain Renault: That makes Rick a citizen of the world.

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Re: The Cock-eyed Caucasus

Post by oettinger »

TheDrunkardAnglo wrote:
Sun Mar 20, 2022 9:40 am
She starts trying to rub my friends cock.
Yeah I wondered how mother is killing time during dad`s Baku-trip
Drink!
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Re: The Cock-eyed Caucasus

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On the 7th day we rest.

Visit the memorial of martyrs but mostly hiding away from Oettinger's mother!

Tomorrow we fly to Tbilisi, Georgia.
Major Strasser: What is your nationality?
Rick: I'm a drunkard.
Captain Renault: That makes Rick a citizen of the world.

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Re: The Cock-eyed Caucasus

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Day 8

Not much happened. Had a few beers in the Airport and then flew to Tbilisi.

Got in late and had to use a taxi. I have a loathing of cabbies, anyway this guy was a blind idiot and took us to the wrong location and charged us extra after taking us to the right one.

He was trying to sell me a tour after as well.

Flat is a bit of a dive. The bathroom has a unique feature where you can take a shit and shower at the same time. Though when you pay £15 a night, I think it is just considered charming.

Day 9 (today) hoping to explore Tbilisi and make up for the previous two quiet days. Tbilisi has a reputation of heavy drinking, I hope it lives up to this.
Major Strasser: What is your nationality?
Rick: I'm a drunkard.
Captain Renault: That makes Rick a citizen of the world.

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Re: The Cock-eyed Caucasus

Post by Dear Booze »

TheDrunkardAnglo wrote:
Sun Mar 20, 2022 10:48 am
Day 6

We wake up late again. Go to this coffee shop that we've become fond of. They roast their own coffee and all the staff seem to be incredibly passionate about their coffee. I get a little filter v60 coffee.

We go to the Azerbaijani state museum. Spent the time mainly being followed around by Azerbaijani babushkas aggressively telling me off for using Russian instead of Azerbaijani. Well, sorry love, I only attempt Azerbaijani when I'm trying to flirt with Azerbaijani bar maid's and waitresses.

We stop for a few cigars and then head back to the apartment to charge our phones.

We head out, grab some dinner, and then head for some bars further out. I think its the Turkic part of town. Each bar has the Azerbaijan flag next to the Turkish one. We find out pretty quick many of the bars do not take cards. Fuck, my friend comes up with the idea of paying for our drinks with a £5 note. They're reluctant at first until he shows them the conversation. They check the note in the light, not sure what they're trying to achieve.

One of them comes back with a glass full of change. My friend refuses it typing into google translate "for your trouble". The chap is overwhelmingly happy. He says "tip?" We nod. He fist bumps us and we finish our drinks and head off to another, but one that takes card.

The next one filled with Turkish looking men, but the beer was £1.60 a pint. We then move back towards the normal bar area.

We find this bar called hops. It's a football bar with scarves. I mention to my friend that it's a disgrace they have an Aston Villa scarf on display but not a Crystal Palace one. This my fellow drunkards is when the night becomes more eventful for all the wrong reasons.

A scouse accent whines across the bar "why are you supporting a shit team like Crystal Palace?" At the end of that whiny echo lays a bearded Liverpudlian with ear stretchers. We end up talking and join him and his much younger Finnish wife with a lazy eye.

We talk of socialism. Current events. And a lot about him. He was a generally interesting guy, and we had enjoyed drinking with them both.

Hops closes, we head to Finnegans. It's thankfully empty. The bar maid was very happy to see me and she asks me about London, stating that she wants to try a roast dinner with a Yorkshire pudding. She asks me about Peaky Blinders, I've never actually seen it but still I throw out some bullshit. Finnegans closes up and she gives me a little hug as we move onto the next place.

The scouser is very keen to go to one of these underground clubs. He's quoted a price. We're in, the price is ten Azerbaijani manat more. Which works out to be £5 more. A pain, but to be expected on these dodgy kind of bars.

The scouser isnt having it. We leave the beers without touching them. We are then surrounded by nine bouncers. The scouser and his finnish wife were getting very aggressive. The tension was building. Thankfully they talk it out and the price is reduced to the originally quoted price. We pay and take our drinks.

The finnish wife was still not happy and threw the drink down screaming she doesn't want it.

We leave. The guy outside who quoted the price. Made a comment about this behaviour and said come back tomorrow.

The scouse shouted "you're talking about my wife". We walking down the street and fuck yous are flying in both directions. Me and my friend are like just leave it. The Azerbaijani guy then punched the scouse guy, and the scouse gut hits the Azerbaijani guy with his tin of tonic. Fuck sake I think, we need to get out of this shit.

My friend tries to de-escalate the situation and some punches are thrown in his direction. He's thankfully nimble on his toes and avoided any serious damage.

I on the other hand follow my instincts as a true coward and observe from a suitably safe distance. I'm not going to get my head kicked in because a financially frugal scouser likes to have a scrap after a few drinks.

We walk off. I look over my shoulder and we're being followed by a gang of five Azerbaijanis. Fucking hell.

I'm not too proud to say I was scared in this moment. We walk towards the French Embassy knowing that there are a number of police there.

I understand the Scouser said to the police that nine guys tried to mug him. He shows where they were coming from and I understand the police went out looking for them.

We go back to the Scouser and his Finnish wife's flat and drink all their beer. The scouser fell asleep and started snoring we left.

We got to our apartment for 7.00am.
I'm looking forward to Skype call with you so I can hear larger details of this story ^^^

I had to look up "Scouser".
DRINK!

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Re: The Cock-eyed Caucasus

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Day 9

First full day in Tbilisi. We get some of those Georgian soup dumplings and do a bit of sight seeing. A cable car up to the fortress. Fuck I love a cable car. More cities need them. It makes you feel like Clint Eastwood and that Welsh chap in Where Eagles Dare.

We then walked down and went into a wine bar. Georgians love their wine, they say they've been making it for over 8000 years. Over this time they've got pretty good at it. In this world of mediocrity and averageness its refreshing to witness true excellence.

We finish a dry red, at a table. We sit at the bar to finish two bottles of white and a bottle of "Amber" wine. The Amber bottle was actually from the guy's family vineyard. We had some chacha. It was allegedly 60%, but it tasted far too smooth to me for this to be true. We talked to them about politics, wine and life in general. They were cool guys.

Following this we went to a restaurant bar, had some drinks, some soup. They love a soup in the former Soviet Union. Had some chacha. This one wasnt as smooth. It burned. My friend subtley had a little chunder. Chatted to some Georgian girls on another table before heading into another wine bar.

We end up getting joined by the waiters of the last restaurant. They give us a little hand shake "мой брат" I say to them. They love it. The wine bar explains that he's shut but we still drink. First the wine that has been left and then he opens more. Music is being played. Sadly no smoking inside. Not really a thing Georgia. The waiters ask us if we want any weed. We don't. We finish and try to pay. He refuses to accept our money. He says we are his guests. Nice guy, we leave.

We find another bar it's called bunker bar. Met by two Germans from Cologne. I throw out some limited knowledge of German football. I give them some shit, something about how Karlsruher SC are the greatest team in the Bundesliga. A russian guy joins us. He's pretty wasted. He tells me he is too drunk to speak English and then goes on how he is going to kill Putin.

I don't remember the full details. There was a Subway sandwich. I think there were a few mutterings of "i'm fucking off my tits!"

After this my recollection of the night gets blurry. I love Georgia, I love Georgians, I love Tbilisi.
Major Strasser: What is your nationality?
Rick: I'm a drunkard.
Captain Renault: That makes Rick a citizen of the world.

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Re: The Cock-eyed Caucasus

Post by Badfellow »

Did you even try to get raped by an Azerbaijani cab driver?

And where’s this Tbilisi, Georgia of which you speak? I can’t even find Atlanta on a map, let alone this Titsleazy place. It all sounds rather like the delusions of a cock-eyed scoucer.
ພາສາລາວNONE GENUINE WITHOUT MY SIGNATUREພາສາລາວ

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Re: The Cock-eyed Caucasus

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Bloody Atlantian scousers.

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Re: The Cock-eyed Caucasus

Post by TheDrunkardAnglo »

You guys!

No rape from any cabbies yet. Not through lack of trying though. I've got my sluty scarf on and everything.

Hopefully this will happen in Armenia.

Day 10

We were fucking wrecks. My mate was vomiting like crazy in the morning.

I spent a significant time trying to piece it all together for my post.

We walked to the train station avoiding all the dog shit. A lot of stray dogs I'm Georgia. Someone needs to do something about that.

We had a little afternoon nap.

Then went to these craft beer places, at the moment filled with Russian Expats. Had a burger.

Went to a bar called chacha time. Had a chacha old fashioned called "Old Georgia", it was pretty shit.

Pretty tame, got back in at around 24.00.
Major Strasser: What is your nationality?
Rick: I'm a drunkard.
Captain Renault: That makes Rick a citizen of the world.

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Re: The Cock-eyed Caucasus

Post by Badfellow »

We are certainly looking forward to your musings upon arrival to Armenia. Maybe you'll be able to find a room with a tub so that you can take a bath in brandy. Are you headed down to Ararat? Or are you just going to schlub around picturesque old Yerevan the entire time? At any rate, good travels and try to keep notes on some of your tastings.
ພາສາລາວNONE GENUINE WITHOUT MY SIGNATUREພາສາລາວ

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Re: The Cock-eyed Caucasus

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Day 11

We sort our PCR tests and train tickets to Armenia.

We take the funicular to the top of another mountain. Not as good as a cable car but still impressive. We have a couple of beers on the top overlooking all of Tbilisi before coming down.

We go to one of the places filled with Russian Expats. They just do craft beer. Most of it is too "out there" for my tastes, but still one or two beers I like.

We sit at the bar and the Russian staff correct my pronunciation as we get through the pints. They're all pretty friendly except some Georgian guy who has a bit of built up toxic masculinity. He does this little dance, I compliment it, he gets very uncomfortable. Perfect. Next time bro, get me my drink without so much sass.

Some dirty slut bought me a shot of chacha. Fuck sake, not again. Another person bought me a shot of blackberry shit. I neck them both and then decide beer is too heavy. Start drinking whisky sodas.

The bar shuts at 2.00 we go to some shitty club with a bunch of the Russians. The bouncer had swastikas tattooed on his arms... not ideal. "Why the fuck are we now bumping into Nazis?" my friend quietly mutters to me. I take a piss, he buys two beers, we leave. Drinking the beers on the way home.

There are many questions I had of this night. Why the fuck are my shoes covered in mud? Why did a random Georgian policeman stop his car the next morning to shout "my English friends! Crystal Palace!"

I fear my fellow drunkards that we briefly, once again, joined the blackout brigade.

Day 12 we take the train from Tbilisi to Yeveran. There is not much to report on the drinking front. So I will continue this with Day 13. The first full day in Yeveran.
Major Strasser: What is your nationality?
Rick: I'm a drunkard.
Captain Renault: That makes Rick a citizen of the world.

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Re: The Cock-eyed Caucasus

Post by TheDrunkardAnglo »

Badfellow wrote:
Thu Mar 24, 2022 9:15 am
We are certainly looking forward to your musings upon arrival to Armenia. Maybe you'll be able to find a room with a tub so that you can take a bath in brandy. Are you headed down to Ararat? Or are you just going to schlub around picturesque old Yerevan the entire time? At any rate, good travels and try to keep notes on some of your tastings.
We have the "advanced tour" booked for Monday. I wanted to go today, but it appears you can only book in advance.

We arrived a bit too early. Even most cafes don't seem to open until at least 9.30.
Major Strasser: What is your nationality?
Rick: I'm a drunkard.
Captain Renault: That makes Rick a citizen of the world.

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Re: The Cock-eyed Caucasus

Post by Hugh »

No post from Drunkard Anglo today. He must be in a Siberian gulag by now.

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Re: The Cock-eyed Caucasus

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Day 13

Train arrives in Yerevan. Relatively smooth journey, though we weren't as refreshed as we were expecting.

We spend a lot of time walking around. We want to have a little nap and then hit the town. The apartment isn't ready until 4pm. A little bit irritated by this. We finally get to have our nap.

We then go for dinner at this beer and burger place. We tell ourselves that this night we're going to do well. Not get too fucked. Have a few drinks and go to bed at around 24.00 refreshed the next day for sightseeing.

We first start off at Yerevan's first maybe only craft beer house. It's good we have a german style wheat beer and then a Belgian blonde. It is a nice place, but the loud heavy metal was understandably getting on my friends tits. Plus we wanted armenian brandy.

We then stop at what I guess is a wine bar and Turkish restaurant. We ask him if he has cognac. He does. Though he's a bit a bit of a dick about it. Probably thinking "these English guys just want to get wasted and not pay for any of my food". We start on the budget side Ararat 5 stars. It's OK, there's nice flavours but a big burn. We then go straight to the 15 year. Its smooth, like drinking sweet caramel syrup. The guy is now starting to like us. Probably because we're on his top shelf booze. I tell him in broken Russian its better than the French cognac, he shakes my hand. We pay. We leave.

In Tbilisi a Russian girl told us about this bar in Yerevan. It's called "Beatles". It happens to be on route to our Apartment. We go there. Its packed. They have this huge bar that curves around the front, we got seats on that bar. We bar fly. Drinking armenian craft beer and armenian brandy. This time Ararat 7 year. Its good, but I was too fucked to make any real notes. We get in a conversation with first some Russian exiles from St Petersburg, listing off some pubs we enjoyed back when we visited.

She tells me she wants to speak English like an English woman. I tell her "good, we don't need any more of these bloody American English speakers with their awesome and oh my god". She laughs.

The Russians then leave and the owner of the pub sits down. He's hammered, we get into a lengthy conversation about the brandy. The barman joins in. They tell me to stick with Ararat. The competitor brand, whose name I forgot, allegedly add too much artifical colour and they say flavour.

We then leave very fucking merry. Heading back a little pleased with ourselves. Boozed up, but not hammered. Sightseeing will be done with ease tomorrow.

We then get stopped by all these Russians. We go on for more drinks. This time cocktails. I end up talking to who I think was called Maria. We get very flirty bordering on filthy. We first talk about going to mine, and then going to hers. She wants to go to a club.

I fucking hate clubs. Plus I'm starting to fear she's a prostitute. I don't know why, but there seemed something dodgy about it all. My friend didn't think she was, but im almost certain there was definitely a whoreish characteristic somewhere. We part ways and head home.
Major Strasser: What is your nationality?
Rick: I'm a drunkard.
Captain Renault: That makes Rick a citizen of the world.

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