10th April 1574
Despite still more than a week for the festivities to reach the Tarnowian area, the preparations were already in the full swing. From the Cathedral church where crowds of your women were running all around, decorating the walls with the fresh bound of flowers, through the streets themselves fully occupied by an insane amount of advertisements hanging out from the windows and inviting any exhausted guest to try resting their head in the local house for a small fee of two weeks worth of craftsmen wage, all the way to the countryside, where albeit no preparations could be seen, the happiness of the folk due to the incoming feast on which they would be able to taste the delicacies they never had before was plainly visible to anyone who would bother to actually visit shit-stinking villages in my dominion.
