I wasn't intending to get ramen for lunch today. But I was nearby and noticed a bunch of new banners in front of Sanji advertising this stuff, so I really just got it out of convenience. It was pretty much what I expected: nothing bad per se, but of course rather heavy, salty, and greasy (like one would expect of a proper bowl from Sanji). I ate it with a side of guilt, especially since I paid extra for a large portion of noodles.

There have been some dire predictions about the snows of Kilimanjaro and how soon they would disappear forever. Global warming has caused them to retreat in recent years, and some reports have said that they could be completely gone by as early as 2015.

In stark contrast to these reports, a new US-Austrian joint team are stating that the snows on the slopes of the mountain will last another 30-40 years, and that the glacier itself may last indefinitely. The team came to this conclusion following seven years of measurements on the mountain itself according to NationalGeographic.com

This is good news for anyone who hopes to climb the mountain in the near future, and for the tourism industry in Tanzania. The Kilimanjaro is a big draw, and an important part of the economy there. But most of all, it's great news for the environment as well, as much of the fresh water found around the mountain is due to glacial run off.

If anyone knows how to be an explorer in the 21st century it is Mikael Strandberg. His various adventures have taken him on bicycle rides from Chile to Alaska and Norway to South Africa, amongst other places. He's traveled through Patagonia on horseback and trekked through East Africa. He has wandered the most remote regions of Siberia and crossed Yemen by camel. He is a Fellow in the Explorers Club, Royal Geographical Society and the Long Riders Guild. So when Mikael offers advice to aspiring explorers, you know that he is doing so from a place of experience.

In a blog post that was published today, Strandberg shares his 9 tips on how to become a modern day explorer. These simple pearls of wisdom form a solid foundation for anyone who is considering pursing a life of exploration, something that comes with sacrifices and challenges, but also great rewards and satisfaction.

I won't spoil the list because I think the entire thing is well worth a read. I will say that his final tip is perhaps the most important one of all. It simply reads: "9. Finally: Get out there and just do it!" For many of us, the biggest stumbling block towards pursuing our dreams and goals is ourself. Sometimes we need to take that leap of faith and just go for it. The people that I have known who have been the most successful at whatever it is they do have always been the ones who are willing to believe in themselves and make the leap.

Mikael's tips are excellent ones for just about anything you'd like to do in life. While he puts them into context of pursuing the life of an explorer, they could also be just as easily applied to someone who wants to start their own business, quit their day job to pursue other opportunities or just about anything else. He advocates for having a clear vision, staying focused and believing in yourself - qualities that are important no matter what goals you set for yourself.

To read the entire article and discover all of Mikael's tips, click here.

What's the only thing better than getting new gear? Getting a great deal on new gear of course! That's the philosophy behind a new site called iGearList which is positioning itself to host classified ads for all kinds of outdoor gear.

At the moment, there aren't many things advertised, but you'll see that gear is broken down into four broad categories labeled as "Apparel & etc.", "Rock & Trail", "Snow & Ice", and "Water & Wind". Each of these categories has a number of sub-categories to neatly fit all the gear we love.

So, if you've got a bunch of old gear in your closet (and who amongst us doesn't?) and your significant other is telling you to clean it all out, then head on over and place a free classified ad. You'll help the site begin to fill up their gear categories, you may find a new home for all that orphaned gear, and just maybe you'll make a little cash for yourself. So you can buy more new gear! ;)

Adventure racers looking to fill out their race schedule for next year can now add Expedition Idaho to the list of events they'll want to compete in next year. The race, which held its inaugural run back in 2011, returns on August 10-16 and will once again feature a fantastic finish amongst a cheering crowd of onlookers at a 2000-person beer festival. As you would expect, the race will include running, mountain biking and paddling sections, with a few extra surprises thrown in for good measure. This is a 500+ mile, expedition style race through some of the most spectacular backcountry in North America and I have it on very good authority that the mountain biking sections in particular will be amongst the best ever in an adventure race.

Find out more at the Perpetual Motion Events website, which is still under construction but has some preliminary information about all of their upcoming events.

Speaking of other upcoming events, the race management staff has also announced another exciting race that will take place in 2015. Not content to simply punish racers on a tough course in Idaho, the team has also announced the first ever Expedition Alaska adventure race, which will take place in June of 2015. That event will let 20 lucky teams compete for seven days in a wild and beautiful frontier that will push them to their limits.

And last, but certainly not least, Adventure Sports Week Idaho will also be back in 2014 offering more events than ever including an off-road tri, more trail runs and 52-mile ultra. The official dates have not been announced just yet, but ASWI will take place near Labor Day. As usual, the various races and events that make up Adventure Sports Week will be held in Farragut State Park near beautiful Coeur d’ Alene. Stay tuned for more information as the schedule unfolds. 

So there you have it. Adventure races and endurance athletes will certainly want to take note of these three great opportunities to compete in 2014 and beyond. I'm super-excited to see Expedition Idaho return next year and I can't wait to see what is store for Expedition Alaska in 2015. 

Spring is certainly in the air, and it's time to get out and explore some new trails. Mountain Zone has some really great suggestions to help get you started.

There are some great trails on the list, like the Turguoise-To-Twin Traverse, in Lake Clark National Park, Alaska or the Peekabo Trail in The Canyonlands National Park, Utah. All told, there are ten trails in all, in different regions of the U.S., so you're sure to find something fairly close to home.

So, now that it's warming up. Pull on your Spring hiking gear, break out the pack and the walking sticks, call your buddies and hit the trail. Spring really is one of the best times to be out in the backcountry.

I've worked in archaeology in Ireland since 1999 and I've visited a number of sites around the country, however last Thursday was the first time I visited Jerpoint Park in Co. Kilkenny and I have to lay my cards out on the table early – I was really taken with the place, in fact it might well be one of my favourite heritage sites in Ireland.

The site is of immense archaeological and historical significance. Jerpoint Park encompasses Newtown Jerpoint, a deserted medieval town of major importance. The town was founded in around 1200 AD at a crossing point of the River Nore and is located very close to the more famous Jerpoint Abbey (visible in the background of the image above). The town was probably founded by a tenant of William Marshall named Griffin fitz William brother of the famous Norman warlord Raymond le Gros (for more on some of Raymond's exploits take a look at our Baginbun post). It was a thriving and vibrant town constructed around two intersecting roads (one running north–south, the other east–west). The town was divided into around 22 burgage plots (land and buildings in a town held in tenure by a noble or lord and rented out), these plots would have had houses at least partly constructed by stone and the remains of a number of these survive today as piles of stone inside the earthen banks of the burgage plot.   

Look carefully at this image and you can see the undulations in the ground showing the outlines of burgage plots and houses

The town also had at least two watermills, and is said to have had a marketplace, a brewery, taverns, a courthouse and a tannery. Near the centre of the town you can see the remains of an urban towerhouse, probably the home of a wealthy merchant, the towerhouse would have offered a defensive position for the town during raids.

Perhaps most significantly the town also has the remains of St. Nicholas' Church. Constructed around the time that the town was founded in around 1200 AD, the church still survives well today and is the most visible and tangible remains on the site. The church has evidence of a number of alterations over the centuries, of which the construction of a very unusual rood screen and a domestic tower where the priest would have lived in the 15th Century is the most notable.

The Medieval Church of St. Nicholas

Historical records still show the church in use in 1622, but it probably fell into disuse and disrepair in the late seventeenth century.

The church is surrounded by a graveyard with a number of graves dating from the medieval times to the nineteenth century. The most significant by far is the grave of St. Nicholas of Myra himself, yes, Father Christmas is buried at Newtown Jerpoint in County Kilkenny (don't tell the kids).
It is thought that his remains were brought back from Bari in Italy by two knights returning from a crusade. They reburied him in this fine tomb at St. Nicholas' Church in the medieval town as they thought it would be a safer location for the remains of such an important figure.

The tomb of St.Nicholas

If you look closely at the photo of the tomb of St.Nicholas you can see depicted the heads of the two knights that brought his remains to Newtown Jerpoint. Having the tomb of such an important saint would have brought great wealth and prestige to the town, as pilgrims would have travelled huge distances to pray at the site of the mortal remains of St. Nicholas.

The graveyard alone is worth exploring, a large number of the gravestones, both medieval and post-medieval, are interesting for the craftsmanship and symbolism. For example if you look at the picture of a medieval graveslab below you can see how wonderfully carved it is, with the unusual depictions of a boat (upper left corner of this picture) and a sun (difficult to make out but upper right opposite the boat), you can also see a cross surrounded by intricate decoration that appears to end in fleur de lis typically associated with France. Latin script surrounds the stone. It is tempting to spend time looking at some of carvings like this one, trying to decipher the message in its symbolism.

Near the churchyard you can find the burial plot of the Hunt Family in a small enclosure, tombs there date from 1771–1975 and some are beautifully carved showing the high level of skill and craftsmanship of the stonemason.

The town was formed, and named after, the bridge that crossed the River Nore at the junction with the smaller River Arrigle. The name Jerpoint itself means Nore Bridge.
Very little remains to be seen of the bridge today, but you can make out its original position where a large number of stones in the river force the waters to churn and break.
In the picture below follow the river along and you will see a rougher area of water between two trees - this is the possible location of the bridge

The River Nore that forms the Northern boundary of the town

The town was deserted probably in the later part of the seventeenth century. It seems that the bridge either fell into disrepair, or a newer bridge was constructed elsewhere on the Nore. This meant that the main road no longer passed through Newtown Jerpoint, and that would have caused a great loss in revenue for the town, perhaps starting its decline. The town eventually became abandoned, and the lands came into the possession of the Hunt family who leased this area to the Earl of Belmore. He constructed the beautiful Belmore House in around 1780 as a hunting lodge. This fine house is now the family home of the site owners Joe and Maeve O'Connell. Joe took me around the site and it was a fantastic experience as he pointed out many details that I could have easily missed, and was full of stories about Newtown Jerpoint, it was a really enjoyable guided tour experience.

Today Jerpoint Park is open to the public for guided tours, please see their website at http://jerpointpark.com/  for more details. Entry fee is a very reasonable €8 per person with free entry children under 12.
I honestly cannot do this place justice in writing, it has a unique and tranquil atmosphere where you can feel more connected to the past than at any other site in Ireland. Although the remains of the houses, taverns, mills and market now only survive as bumps in the field, when you are there it is easy to become immersed in the atmosphere and picture what life was like when it was a thriving town nearly 800 years ago.

Roland at the Djenne market

After spending some time in Dakar and Bamako I posted about how I found both cities very safe for tourists. Now that I've traveled around Mali a bit I thought I'd expand the idea to assure tourists that the whole country-- or at least the places tourists go-- is, if not like Disneyland or Dollyland, a safe choice for an exciting adventure trip.

Roland and I were traipsing around Sanga last week-- a place so foreign to the American experience that one would have to be on another planet to find something more exotic-- when we ran into a gaggle of American Peace Corp volunteers on holiday. They're stationed around West Africa, mostly Mali and Burkina Faso I gathered, and the State Department and U.S. Embassy in Bamako have decreed that no Peace Corp volunteers are allowed to venture north of some imaginary line (like around Mopti, I think), which means no Timbuktou. They said it is too dangerous because of Tuareg bandits on the roads-- and that the local airlines, C.A.M. and M.A.E., are too dangerous (i.e., non-compliant with FAA guidelines) for Americans to fly on-- so that their employees could not go to the northern two-thirds of the country.

We spent a few days in Timbuktu, which gets bad-mouthed by most tourists as not worth the trip. They're wrong. Timbuktou is fascinating and exotic and if it doesn't live up to your dreams of the 13th century or to Paul Bowles' Sheltering Sky, get real and open up to what actually is being offered there. As for danger... there's nothing remotely dangerous, other than a difficult road getting there, the bad exhaust fumes from motorbikes in town and the fucking mosquitos (we've just given up on not being bitten; it's not possible. Just learn to love the Malarone.)

We were waiting for a couple hours for the ferry to take us across the Niger on the way to Timbuktou and the settlement there is a Bella one. Until 1973's epoch drought nearly wiped out the Tuareg's camels and herds, the Bella had been their slaves. In 1973, basically because the Tuareg couldn't feed them anymore, they emancipated them-- although I have heard that there are still some small services that many of them still render to their former masters (like when there is a wedding or something). Anyway, this Bella settlement was all festive and bustling like all the villages we visited in Mali, when a couple of pickup trucks filled with Tuaregs pulled up to the bank of the river. Suddenly things got much quieter. Many of the little children seemed to disappear. It reminded me of a scene from Star Wars when some alien warrior people dropped by a space cafe. Anyway, the Tuaregs were pretty well-armed with swords and daggers and God knows what else and they don't seem to smile much; no chatty bonjours and they certainly don't ask you for a Bic or an empty water bottle or candy. The Tuareg War ended in the mid-90's though and they seem to be peaceable enough (except around Kidal) and way in the northern Sahara where Mali, Algeria and Mauretania share vast trackless wastes. In Timbuktou, they were certainly easy enough to get along with.

In fact, one of our most memorable adventures was when our guide, Mohammed, took us out into the desert one night to meet some Tuaregs who had just come from Araouane to trade for millet. They were also open to trade for the stuff we no longer needed-- mostly stuff Roland had picked up at the 99 cent store before coming here-- like a pair of cheap extra sunglasses-- as well as my REI walking sticks, half a dozen cans of sardines, shaving kits from Air France, a t-shirt, a roll of toilet paper, organic mosquito repellent that seems to attract mosquitos, etc. We got some nice Tuareg "silver" bracelets, a pipe and an agate necklace-- and had a long Tuareg tea ceremony before this whole thing got started... all by the light of the moon and stars. The Tuareg basically live their lives by the light of the moon and the stars.

I mentioned the other day that Mali is a Muslim country in the context of how Muslim countries are normally safe places to travel. Like I've been saying, Mali certainly seems safe enough, but it doesn't actually seem all that Muslim. Women aren't covered up and are everywhere and seem to play leadership roles in society. I've seen more women covered head to toe in London than in Bamako. And the dancing... well, to say some of it is erotic doesn't even begin to suggest how a Muslim fundie cleric would react. The dour Tuaregs seem to take it more seriously than most.

A couple weeks ago I went to a wedding celebration out in the sticks. For some reason I had imagined it would be something like one I went to in a small village-- real small: two family compounds-- in Afghanistan in 1969. There were no women at that one-- no bride, no groom's mother... no, it wasn't a forerunner of a No On 8 reform in pre-Taliban Afghanistan. The women were kept in strictest purdah and although I was living in the house for months and the groom was my best friend, I never did meet his new wife. Instead of women, the entertainment at the Afghan wedding was dancing boys-- really, really young ones-- with some kohl and cheap jewlery. My friend's grandfather grabbed one, quite forcibly, and raped him behind a building while the festivities proceeded. Afterwards the disheveled boy straightened his outfit and got back into the dance, looking mighty pissed off.

Mah Kouyate in the middle with no headgear

The Malian festivities were nothing like that-- a fully integrated affair with raucous joy, lots of music and dancing, mostly led by women. Almost all the local celebrities who were made a big fuss over were women-- including celebrated singer Mah Kouyate, who now lives in Burkina Faso and made the trip all the way to Mali-- and the only male celebrity other than a famous drummer who was playing, was some local version of Liberace who fancied himself the m.c.

But below the surface, Malian women have some big problems to contend with-- even if you don't consider polygamy a problem in and of itself. In every Dogon village we visitted there is a "special" women's house where women are kept while they're menstruating. They're considered impure; it's very primitive but I gather it's just an animist Dogon thing and not prevelant in general Malian society. Everyone tells me that as soon as a Malian man marries he's out looking for as much side action as he can find and that the women are pretty pissed off. They're also pregnant a lot. Almost every woman we see has an infant strapped to he back as she goes about her arduous life. Men here hate condoms. One guy we met in Dogon country-- although he's from Segou and has been to NYC-- says he would never use a condom because it would make him unable to perform up to par. And, yes, AIDS is a gigantic problem here.

Anyway, if you're now forewarned about the dangers of sex here, consider the road travel-- or any travel. We didn't let the knowledge that a hippo can break apart a pinasse ruin our wonderful day of floating down the Niger and Bani rivers near Mopti visiting Bozo fishing villages. Some tourists took the 3 day boat trip-- two nights camping along the shore-- from Bamako to Timbuktu. We drove from Sanga in Dogon country after 3 days there. Simply put, the road from Sanga to Douentza, halfway from Dogon to Timbuktou, has to be the worst road on earth. People talk about how bad the Timbuktou road itself is-- and it's rutted washboard and uncomfortable and we broke down in the desert twice-- but it is nothing compared to the Sanga road, which is just various sized boulders that you drive over while praying.

Roland fears Tupolov planes the way I fear sharks and crocodiles but he was willing to pay anything to get on one to get out of Timbuktou without having to get back on the terrible road again. I might mention that the road from Bamako in the west to Gao in the east, which covers much of the populated parts of the country, is a decent 2 lane paved road. The airlines were a little lax and dicey but we made it fine and who cares if there was no security whatsoever and if the stewardess returned some guy's spear as soon as we took off?

UPDATE: Some Wassoulu music from Sali Sidibe

The first time I went to Morocco, the 60s, it was all about the Marrakech Express. And once you got there, there were the gentle charms of Essaouira, not all that far down the road. On that first trip, before the Jamaa el-Fna was a parking lot during the day, Morocco and Marrakech were synonymous to me. I had driven my VW van down from Spain, taking a ferry to Ceuta and studiously avoiding what I thought would be Tijuana-like Tangier (a city I came to love in later years). We spent most of our time in Marrakech and Essaouira, slept in the van every night. But we also managed to visit many of the country's other main towns on that trip. I had a terrible case of dysentery when we got to Fes and I remember spending all my time in a camp ground outside of town.

I've been back to Morocco eleven times since then. And Fes has long since replaced Marrakech as my favorite city, although Fes has gotten a lot tamer and less dangerous feeling lately and Marrakech seems to have gotten cooler again, more like the way it was in the 60s. Fes, though, will always be exotic, basically because Fes is a functioning medieval city with streets too narrow and with too many steps for motor vehicles. Sunday's New York Times features it and calls it The Soul of Morocco. The title fits although you could ask almost any Morocco-hand and they'll think that title refers to Marrakech. The Times relied on a Fassi partisan, "a craftsman and cultural entrepreneur," Abdelfettah Seffar, to give them the lay of the land:

“Fez is really just the medieval city that it was,” Mr. Seffar went on, contrasting his hometown with its fast-developing jet-set sister and rival, Marrakech. “We are a little scared of what Marrakesh has become. Fez is the soul of Morocco. It’s the last bastion of what Morocco really is.”

Faded but stately, crumbling but proud, the walled city of Fez might well be the largest and most enduring medieval Islamic settlement in the world. It is indisputably Morocco’s spiritual and cultural heart.

You need only watch the daily procession of candle-toting mourners entering the tomb of the city’s founder, Moulay Idriss II — believed to be a great-great grandson of the prophet Mohammed — to feel the city’s connection to its past. A glance at the ninth-century Karaouine University, widely considered the world’s oldest operating institution of higher learning, reaffirms the impression.

As Marrakesh has opened to Tropezian swimming-pool clubs and branches of Ibiza night spots, Fez has turned ever deeper to its history, renovating architectural masterpieces and creating new festivals devoted to the city’s rich culinary and musical traditions.

Jason, over at The Adventurist has scored the first, and possibly only, interview with David Tait following his traverse of Everest.

David had originally intended to be the first man to complete a "double traverse", first starting in the North, going up the mountain, reaching the summit, then going down to the South side. After a few days rest, the plan was to return to the North by reversing his path. After completing the first leg of his traverse however, David decided that once was enough, and he gave up on his plans for the double traverse.

In the interview, David discusses his climb, revealing details that he hadn't discussed elsewhere yet, with some surprisingly challenging conditions on the descent to the South side. He also talks about climbing with a Discovery Channel camera team, his thoughts on abandoning his second traverse, and much more. It's definitely a great read.

And in case you missed it, check out The Advenurists' first interview with David that was conducted a few months beack before he left for Everest. The two together are quite insightful.

Good stuff Jason! Keep up the great work.

National Geographic Adventure has posted a hot video of a "speed descent" on The Eiger, that has to be seen to be believed. Very cool stuff.

What's a Speed Descent you ask? Good question. How about skiing off the summit with a parachute strapped to your back allowing you to float over large sections of the mountain. Judging from the video, this looks like a great deal of fun, and you have to give the guys points for orginality. While everyone else is finding new ways to get up The Eiger (and every other mountain) these guys are finding new ways to get down it.

Trust me, the video is worth your time! Thanks for sharing this Ryan!

I came across an intriguing story over the weekend that Everest fans will most certainly find it of interest. A new story in The Guardian indicates that George Mallory's body may have been found on Everest as far back as 1936, but it was not shared with the press in order to preserve some dignity for the deceased. The revelation is part of a new biography on mountaineer Frank Smyth, who was amongst those obsessed with climbing Everest back in the 1930's before World War II put an end to such endeavors for nearly a decade.

The book, which was written by Smyth's son Tony, reveals letters from the famous writer and mountaineer in which he talks about coming across a body high on the slopes of the mountain. But he is also quoted as saying "It's not to be written about, as the press would make an unpleasant sensation." That seems to indicate that Smyth wanted to keep the whereabouts of Mallory's remains a secret so at to not cause a stir. Considering how few people had climbed that high on Everest at the time, the body could have only belong to Mallory or his climbing partner Andrew "Sandy" Irvine.

We all know that the discovery of George Mallory's body back in 1999 was an event that went well beyond the typical climbing community. For years people have speculated as to whether or not Mallory and Irvine actually reached the summit of Everest nearly three decades before it was finally scaled by Edmund Hillary and Tenzing Norgay. The body didn't provide any new insights for that debate, but it certainly brought it to the forefront once again.

While the story of Smyth discovering Mallory's body will ultimately be a footnote in the history of mountaineering, it is interesting to think that its whereabouts could have been revealed decades before it was actually discovered. I think it was a sign of the times that Mallory and Smyth were climbing in that they would show such respect for the dignity of others, even the deceased. We don't seem to have that same respect these days, which is a shame.

The Guardian article has a lot more information about Frank Smyth and the new biography about the climber. It sounds like it is quite an interesting read.

One of the highlights during my Tribes of South Rajasthan & Kutch Photo~Expedition™ was a few days spent photographing in Baneshwar during its annual fair, or mela.

The Baneshwar mela is popular tribal gathering held in the Dungarpur district in south Rajasthan. The gathering is followed by a fair held at a small delta formed by the river Soma and Mahi. It's a relatively modest event, without the hype and the attendance of the Kumbh Melas, but it's nevertheless a deeply religious gathering with simple and traditional rituals. Bhil and Garasia tribals come from the neighboring states of Madhya Pradesh and Gujarat to offer prayers to Lord Shiva, to perform pind daan, and to socialize.

Here's Baneshwar: Pind Daan, an audio-slideshow of photographs made and ambient sound gathered during the mela. Photographed in a documentary style, I chose to process the images in black & white despite their vivid colors.

The audio-slideshow was featured in my March email newsletter sent to my subscribers.

I hesitated at first about coming here (1000 Osage Street, 534-9505). It just seemed like a tourist trap, being not just Denver's oldest restaurant, but also serving all sorts of exotic game that one might figure to be typical of the culture out here. Seeing the T-shirts on display in the entrance (and Japanese on the menus!) wasn't exactly giving me much reassurance either.

Nonetheless, I still came here out of sheer curiosity, ordering the obligatory Rocky Mountain Oysters above as well as a combo plate of buffalo and elk. The testicles were cut more thinly than the ones that I tried in the past, but were still breaded, thus making you taste more batter (and horseradish/cocktail sauce) than the balls. I can't help but wonder how this might taste if it were simply grilled with a bit of salt and lemon. Indeed, the texture was a lot like gyutan, even if it had a mild taste of liver.

Similarly, the buffalo and elk weren't anything that exciting either, especially the latter, which was so lean that I didn't even bother to finish it. Perhaps the thing that I liked the most here was the bean soup, but it ultimately wasn't worth the money: I spent about $90 as a solo diner with two beers, coffee, and tip. Sure, I'm glad that I came to check it out, but I don't think I'll be going back.

The Tomb of the Jealous Man and Woman

The Cathedral of St. Peter & Paul at Newtown, in Trim is the second of my suggestions for great sites to visit off the beaten track. The Cathedral was founded by the Norman Bishop, Simon de Rochfort in 1206 and was given to the Augustinians.

Although only parts of the nave and chancel survive today, it is easy to get the impression of just how massive this cathedral would have been. You can still see many of the fine decorative flourishes in the stonework, and it has lovely lancet windows. The piscina where the priest used to wash the holy vessels during the mass is also still well preserved. 

The site is famous for the remarkable 16th Century tomb of Sir Lucas Dillon and his wife, Lady Jayne Bathe. The two stone effigies on the tomb are separated by a sword of state. The tomb is known locally as 'The Tomb of the Jealous Man and Woman', it is believed that instead of signifying the sword of state, the sword actually represents Sir Lucas' displeasure at his wife for having an affair, forever separating the two. It is believed that the tomb possesses a cure for warts and skin complaints. Rub your wart on a pin and leave the pin on top of the tomb, as the pin rusts the wart withers and falls off. I cannot speak personally for whether this works, but I did notice a large number of pins on the tomb!

The tomb has some unusual scenes depicted on each side

This site is certainly worth paying a visit. It is located very close to the magnificent Trim Castle, and if the weather is fine you can take the beautiful and atmospheric River Walk. From the car-park below Trim Castle, cross the small wooden bridge, past the Yellow Steeple and Sheep's Gate, keep following the path as it meanders alongside the River Boyne and after about 15 minutes you will reach the Cathedral.

Very close to the Cathedral is another superb medieval site – the Priory of St.John the Baptist, I'll cover that site next week.





 




As always if there are any sites you recommend or that you would like me to cover please send me an email at info@abartaaudioguides.com and if you'd like to enjoy the sensational story of Ireland you can download one of our audioguides from www.abartaaudioguides.com (also available on iTunes, Amazon Mp3, Sony Quirocity and Eircom Music Hub). The guides are as enjoyable from the comfort of your favourite armchair at home as they are at the sites.

Photo Courtesy The Sacramento Bee
Here's an amusing photograph featured by The Frame, the photo blog of the Sacramento Bee. It's of a sadhu and a woman "returning after bathing at the Sangam, the confluence of rivers Ganges, Yamuna and the mythical Saraswati, in Allahabad."

It's uncredited on the SacBee blog, except to say it's from AP.

Although I have seen female sadhus (known as sadhvis) in Varanasi, I have rarely seen a sadhu in the company of a woman, and wonder what are these two returning to. To me, this looks like a man and his wife returning home from work. He's dressed in saffron cloths, and is carrying the Shiva trident, an accoutrement of his trade, while she's carrying some stakes.

I have seen and met countless of these so-called sadhus during my travels in India, and most of them are charlatans and con-artists. After all, it's rather an easy life they lead. They are given free food and alms, they ride public transport for free, they smoke marijuana whenever they can, and people generally give them a wide berth.

Naturally, there are also a few sadhus who are genuine ascetics, but these are rarely seen by Western tourists except at important Hindu religious festivals, such as the Kumbh Melas. However even there, the real ones are a minority.

Photo © Tewfic El-Sawy-All Rights Reserved
Photo © Tewfic El-Sawy-All Rights Reserved
Although I have a couple of international trips in the interim, my mind is increasingly getting focused on my forthcoming Bali: Island of Odalan Photo-Expedition™ in August, and to refresh my memory, I've been revisiting my RAW images files of my 2007 photo-expedition, and even processing some of them.

As is usual when I revisit images files after a while, I uncovered some images that I missed during my initial edits on my return from the 2007 trip, and some that are worth a second look. I viewed these with my Canon's Digital Photo Professional software (version 3.7.3) which, while admittedly somewhat clunky, still does a reasonable job as a viewer and RAW converter.

I also used DPP's built-in image processor, and edited the images you see in this post entirely with it. I didn't use CS or LR at all. I'm not suggesting that DPP replaces any of those, but I was surprised that it did such a reasonable job in adjusting the exposure, de-saturating the colors and sharpening the images of the Legong dancers.

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Ahhhh... Mali, land of my dreams; well that might be a little exaggeration but ever since I was a kid I always wanted to go to Timbuktu. And after I read Paul Bowles The Sheltering Sky I knew for sure I would travel to that city someday (even though I have a feeling it was set in Gao, not Timbuktu; just a guess). A few years ago Roland and I drove to the end of the road in Morocco, Mahamid, where there is nothing but flies and sand dunes and a guy and his son willing to take you out into the desert on camel. And a big blue sign that says something to the effect of "Timbuktu 52 days (by camel)." We decided to go with the guy and his son for a jaunt into the Sahara... but not all the way to Mali.

Today I finally arrived. Senegal does not prepare you at all-- except that they share a language (French) and a currency (CFA). The weather in Dakar was very pleasant, around 80 by day with a nice breeze off the ocean and high 60s/low 70s at night. Bamako isn't an inferno, but close enough. It's hot and dusty. And Dakar is almost like Europe in comparison. In Dakar you can't open your eyes without seeing at least one white face-- 25,000 Frenchmen live there and at least as many Lebanese Armenians. Here I haven't seen any white people since I arrived. I sat next to a French anthropologist on the 90 minute plane ride from Dakar and she told me there are about 2,000 French residents and the same number of Lebanese. I also ran into quite a few missionaries and missionary children on the plane and in the airport, including a huge guy and his huger wife and two huge children who are stationed way in the interior in a small town I had never heard of. He said he's from Iowa but he was born here-- his parents having been missionaries too-- and has lived here all his life, although goes back to Iowa every few years to visit.

So far-- and I know this is unrelated to everything else I'm about to experience in Mali-- the infrastructure is superb. The highway from the airport was excellent, far better than Dakar's in everyway, although where the Dakar 'burbs looked pretty well off and even glitzy, the Bamako 'burbs could have been almost anywhere in the Third World. I kept flashing back to Pakistan.

I'm staying at the Hotel Salam and OMG! It is really top of the line, not just top of the line for a dumpy place but really nice for anywhere. The hotel in Dakar, the Sokhamon, was small (31 rooms) and boutequey with a certain charm but hobbled with amateur management. This place is impeccable. I might add that the price for a single is CFA 90,000 but that I had made a reservation online and it was only CFA 50,000. It's hard to translate that into dollars because that exchange rate for the dollar is absurd and if you change your money into Euros and then buy CFA with Euros, the difference-- in your favor-- is a lot.

OK, I went to sleep after I wrote that last paragraph-- my Internet time having expired-- and today is... hot and dusty and humid. The hotel computers-- fancy as they look-- aren't working so I walked a mile or so to a market area and found an internet cafe which is in pretty good shape and cheaper than the hotel's (of course). The town is very spread out-- opposite of extremely compact Dakar. People here seem less outgoing and exuberent than in Senegal, where everyone was ready to party at any time. People seem more shy and stand-offish here. There are a plethora of "guides" who have overcome this. The hotel is still nice the morning after but below the spit and polish... well, I should temper my gushing enthusiasm a little-- although the food in their restaurant was excellent and there is wonderful Malian music in every public space.


UPDATE: ANOTHER PERSPECTIVE AFTER A FULL DAY

And what a day! A travel tip for this part of the world: be sure to print out your confirmed reservations for everything. None of the hotels or airlines have had records of my reservations. OK, that was today's travel tip.

What an amazing place Bamako is! Forget what I said about it reminding me of backwater Pakistan; that was just the fancy superficial sights! You can't imagine what this is like once you get out of the modern business/tourist ghetto. I keep imagining that Dogon country is going to be the most primtive place I've ever been to. The back allies of Bamako... well it makes Pakistan look like NYC!

But this place is the most pro-American place I've been to since Clinton was president. And it's more than just the predictable pictures of Obama everywhere. There are USA decals and stickers and flag symbols in taxis and all over the place. I saw more albinos than white people but there are a couple thousand French people living here. Still, it seems like it is the U.S. that has captured the imagination of the people. Feels good after years and years of everyone hating America everywhere cause the fucking rednecks, fascists and greedheads got Bush into office!

Anyway, I was all over town today. Taxis are cheap; anyplace in town costs either 1,000, 1,500 or 2,000; depending on a combination of distance, your bargaining skills and how willing you are to whore out some Obama stories. After a full day-- including the discovery of a fantastic Moroccan restaurant called La Rose des Sables, just down the street from the Chinese Embassy. One warning: "vegetarian" doesn't necessarily mean "no meat," only that there are vegetables in the dish.

The highlight of the day though was a trip to the studio where Mali's greatest muscian, Bassekou is recording his follow-up LP. This guy is great and what an amazing band he's put together. I'll do a post on that once I can upload some pics and music and after I see the live concert tomorrow night.

Well, I have to admit that the only tiger shark I actually saw was one a local fisherman caught off the pier-- and it was about 18" long, maybe two feet. He used it to try to scare children before throwing it back in. I'll get to my tiger shark adventure in a moment. I had come to St. Simons, an island off the south Georgia coast, for a conference. As is my habit, I arrived a day early so I could get the lay of the land. I'm glad I did. It's a beautiful, sleepy resorty kind of place; very quiet and relaxing.

I flew from L.A. on Delta, a crappy airline that had just come out of bankruptcy that day and insisted we all applaud and drink some champagne. I did neither. There was a layover in Atlanta before I got a plane to Jacksonville, Florida's cozy little airport-- which boasts free internet, something I tried using several times coming and going... to no avail. (I had only been to Jacksonville once before, a stopover on a Greyhound when I was 13 years old and lost my virginity among some huge tires to an older woman; she must have been 17 or 18 and seemed to know what to do. I certainly didn't.) Nothing like that happened at the airport. Instead my friends picked me up and drove me north over a series of causeways to lovely St. Simons. We drove straight to a random restaurant, Mullet Bay. It blew.

Southern food isn't exactly my cup of tea, as Ken pointed out at DWT after I called him from the island to complain about Mullet Bay. Everything was fried and a deadly serious homage to cholesterol. Even at the estate, where the food was more... contemporary, our hostess had to intervene forcefully with the purist staff about serving collard greens without the ham hocks for the two dozen vegetarians in the crowd.

I stayed at the SeaPalms Resort, far from the beach, kind of in the middle of nowhere unless you're there for the golfing. It was OK, although internet connectivity isn't one of the amenities that works well; expensive but non-fuctional. The room was... roomy and quiet, so I won't complain. The breakfast buffet was... generous-- if life threatening.

I was excited to go kayaking. And I didn't let the fact that I ignored instructions to bring a bathing suit stop me. Fortunately I had the presence of mind to leave my cell phone, wallet and valuables back at the hotel. The beach was gorgeous-- and filled with eye candy-- and the water is warm, far warmer than the Pacific, even warmer than my pool! I soon learned that ocean kayaking isn't like white water kayaking (which I've done before). I think what threw me was when the kayak renter casually mentioned not to go out over the sandbar because, he claimed, it was the "biggest tiger shark breeding ground off the East Coast." My immediate thought was to go back to the hotel and read my book. But I was with 3 friends and they didn't take any notice at all. My second thought was to wonder if anyone had told the breeding tiger sharks to stay near their end of the sand bar.


That's what I was thinking, about 3 minutes into the adventure when I was hit by a 6 inch wave mid-ship; you're supposed to keep your nose pointed into the waves. I must have lost my balance because the next thing I knew I was man overboard. Do you think I panicked? I don't know what scares me more-- sharks or alligators, but when I saw several fins in the water I almost fainted. But that was over in 30 seconds when I realized it was a pod of dolphins. I convinced myself dolphins protect people from tiger sharks. My friend Matt, who fell in about half an hour later, went one further: dolphins eat tiger sharks. I never did check that out... but the dolphins did seem to stay between us and the ominous sandbar; maybe they hoped we were bait. Or maybe it's a spiritual thing; I hope so. I never eat canned tuna.

I didn't get bitten and the rest of the weekend was nice and peaceful, although there are alligators in the pond of the estate. I wound up in a party of two golf carts driving around the shore looking for them. Never did see any.


UPDATE: SOME PEOPLE GO OUT LOOKING FOR SHARKS, GREAT WHITES TOO!

The Sunday NY Times has a travel story about people who don't inadvertently fall off plastic kayaks in a shark breeding ground like I did but who go out looking for them-- like I would never do. And Great Whites at that! It's beyond belief that people get in the water-- voluntarily-- with sharks. Even though only 50 or 60 people are attacked by sharks a year, I walk around my swimming pool every single morning to make sure there are no sharks (or alligators) in it before jumping in to do my laps. It's an indoor pool.

Joshua Hammer writes about his shark safari off the coast of Dyer Island, South Africa. Peter Benchley's Jaws had gotten to him, just like to the rest of us. "In the last 15 years, 'cage diving' has gone commercial. Thousands of tourists a year are now squeezing into wet suits and plunging into shark-infested waters off Australia and South Africa for an intimate look at the predators, which grow as long as 25 feet, can weigh more than a ton, and live between 30 and 50 years." Joshua was there in February, the height of tourist season but human tourists, not the peripatetic shark tourists (who come in late summer to munch down the Cape fur seal pups).

Already three people had given up and clambered out of the cold water and back onto the boat, named Shark Team, but I wasn’t ready to call it quits. I rubbed my hands together, and absent-mindedly wrapped my fingers around the front bars of the cage, prompting a warning from Grant Tuckett, our guide on this morning-long expedition, that I risked having them bitten off. Then, Mike Ledley, another crew member aboard the Shark Team, shouted out: “Shark! Get ready!”

I took a gulp of air and dropped below the surface, 12 pounds of lead weights strapped around my wet suit to counter my natural buoyancy. Feet wedged at the bottom of the cage, I pressed my mask against a face-wide aperture between the bars and waited for a monster to swim into view. The visibility in the water, which was thick with sand and algae blooms, was less than three feet. On the deck, the crew dragged ropes tied with fresh bait-- shark liver, chunks of yellowfin tuna-- around the boat, trying to lure the great white into proximity. “Here he comes,” Mr. Ledley yelled.

The name of this place always messed me up, in large part because it has nothing to do with Heston Blumenthal's Fat Duck, which is what comes to mind first. But what is also puzzling is the fact that it is Japanese...or at least, they serve Japanese beef, and hence the name. And it's a bit ironic that they would name a restaurant "Fat Cow" in a building whose tenants are mostly medical professionals.

Either way, I needed to be in the neighborhood later, so I figured that this would be a chance for me to finally give it a try (1 Orchard Boulevard #01-01, 6735-0308). I grabbed their namesake donburi, which was fine, even if the truffle aroma was rather cliched. Paying a whopping S$39 (US$31) for that bowl wasn't my idea of fun either; for that kind of money, I'd rather go to Yazawa. But I'd eat here again if someone else paid. :)