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There are over 170 dolmens (also known as portal tombs) recorded in Ireland. Geographically they are more common in the northern half of the island, with some clusters in the south-east and in the west. Gaulstown is one of ten examples in County Waterford. Portal tombs may be one of the earliest of Ireland’s megalithic tomb types, and a forerunner of the more complex court tombs. Typically a portal tomb is a simple chamber formed of upright stones, with a large capstone. The monument was then possibly covered with a cairn of small stones or a mound of earth.

The Gaulstown Dolmen dates to the Neolithic Period, likely to have been constructed some time around 3,500 BC.

 It is situated in a wonderfully atmospheric wooded glade at the base of a steep slope known locally as Cnoc na Cailligh (The Hill of the Hag). The stone to construct the tomb was locally sourced. Some subsidence of the tomb in recent years has been repaired with the addition of a concrete slab to ensure the structure is supported. Positioned close to the dolmen is the remains of another stone-lined prehistoric tomb known as a cist burial. These features generally date to the Bronze Age period. Its presence so close to the dolmen may suggest that the site continued to be an important spiritual place for millennia. 

The Gaulstown Dolmen really is one of the finest examples of a portal tomb in the region and well worth a trip. You’ll find the tomb roughly around 7km south-west of Waterford City. Follow the R680 from Waterford city towards Kilmeadan. At Tramore crossroads (signposted for Tramore) turn left onto the R682. Continue along this road, driving through the first set of crossroads until you reach a second set of crossroads. Turn right here and continue down this road (you will drive straight through another crossroads) and the site will be on your left. The tomb is signposted, but you can easily miss it as a large modern gate blocks the laneway to the site and makes it look like the entrance to a private residence. Please be careful not to block the gateway when you park your car to the side of the large gate. Access to the site is through a pedestrian entrance to the side of the gate, follow along the short path to find the site.

Thank you for taking the time to read our blog, if you’d like to support us please consider downloading one of our acclaimed series of audioguides to Ireland’s heritage sites, they are packed with original music and sound effects and a really fun and immersive way of exploring Ireland’s past. They are available from abartaheritage.ie. Try our latest guide for free; The Sligo Heritage Trail. Narrated by Sligo actor Ciarán McCauley and packed with facts, history and tales about Sligo through the centuries, it's an immersive way to enjoy the story of Sligo. 

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Climbing.com the website for Climbing magazine has posted an excellent preview of the upcoming climbing season on K2. As things start to wind down on Everest, the Karakorum season will be starting to warm up.

There will be four teams gunning for the summit on K2 this year, three of which will be climbing alpine style, with small teams. None of the four intend to use supplemental oxygen. Two teams will challenge the West Face, which remains mostly unclimbed. One of those teams is a large Russian expedition which will lay siege to the mountain, while Peter Hámor, Dodo Kopold, and Piotr Morawski will go light and fast having recently topped out on Nanga Parbat and still being acclimatized for high elevation.

Kazakhs Denis Urubko and Serguey Samoilov will be looking to climb the North Face, on a route that has never been attempted. They'll be going up an 11,000 foot vertical face that that is amongst the most challenging big wall climbs anywhere in the World. The North Face remains largely unexplored and few climbers have even scouted the area.

Finally, on the South side, Americans Bill Pierson and Fabrizio Zangrilli will be attempting a new route themselves, going up the 9500 foot wall before merging with The Magic Line route that is amongst the more direct climbs on the mountain.

K2 remains one of the more dangerous climbs amongst the 8000m peaks. Not many climbers actually find themselves on the summit, and of those that do, nearly half perish on the descent. The mountain is a mere 240 meters shorter than Everest, and yet it is orders of magnitude more difficult to climb. Fortunately, the teams that are attempting K2 are all seasoned pros, with plenty of high altitude experience. I'm sure we'll be hearing a lot more about these climbers as we get closer to the Karakorum season, but I'll take this opportunity to wish them all luck now.

Thanks to Jason over at The Adventurist for passing this one on. He has his hands full with all the Everest news at the moment, so if you're looking for the latest, be sure to head over to his site and catch-up.

Traditionally the main entrance to Fes-el-Bali (Fes' old walled medina) is through the beautiful Bab Bou Jeloud. Two things were "missing" when I strolled over to take a look a couple weeks ago. One was the large... birdcage in a corner of the square where the captured crown prince of Portugal was once displayed as he slowly died of starvation; and the other was the truly intolerable myriad of uber-aggressive "guides" (angry, unemployed young men with major chips on their shoulders). The scourge of tourist tranquility, the hordes of these pests are pretty much... gone (as they were even earlier from Tangier and Marrakech). I think Fes was the last hold out.

An aside here. Roland and I were once walking around in the late afternoon, wandering aimlessly in the vicinity of the Bab Bou Jeloud when a particularly obnoxious, snarling guy insisted that we couldn't walk around without him. The discussion quickly degenerated into him cursing and screaming at us and calling us Jews and Americans and whatnot; very threatening. When a cop appeared out of nowhere and grabbed him we were very relieved; our relief turned to mortification when the copy commenced beating him savagely. But I guess why we didn't see him or any of his colleagues on this trip.

There are now signs posted throughout the labyrinth that makes up the old city, marking sites and routes. I mean, it could be Rome or Dublin almost. It is no longer the forbidding, scary place it has always been reputed to be. We never even felt intimidated to not walk around late at night. We wandered around anywhere we wanted for 3 days essentially unmolested. Maybe the Fassi saw the benefits tourism have brought to Marrakech, but something-- maybe aggressive police action-- has made Fes' medina a lot more comfortable for tourists-- and a lot more profitable for bazaris. It isn't Disneyland yet and you won't see Ma and Pa Kettle ambling around alone yet, but that's probably coming soon. I definitely saw a lot more European families walking around freely.

I've been meaning to feature Giulio di Sturco's photography for a while now, and recently revisited his website, to which he added a number of galleries.

One of those consists of his work during Indian Fashion Week in New Delhi, and is titled Dreaming Fashion.

You may wonder what I chose to feature this gallery on what is essentially a travel photography blog.

My rationale is multi-faceted: this gallery of edgy fashion and striking models underscores the enormous strides made by India in becoming an Asian economic powerhouse with a new growing middle class and modernizing cities, but also emphasizes the growing wealth disparity between its haves and have-nots.

Another reason is Giulio's photographic style. His blurry photographs impart both a dreamy look and one that suggests motion and energy.

The third reason is the pretty models...always a magnet.

Giulio's work also includes more sobering work. His galleries of photographs of the Ganges' pollution, the misery of Bihar residents after a flood and violence in Kashmir provide a reality check, and a reminder that not all is rosy in India.

Giulio di Sturco is an award-winning Italian photographer working between Milan and New Delhi. He studied photography at the European Institute of Design and Visual Arts in Rome, and was published in D (La Repubblica delle Donne), Internazionale, Vanity Fair, Marie Claire, Anna, Amica, Geo, L'Espresso and others.

Is it just me, or has Ikeikemaru started cutting back on their list of specials? Well, this skilfish was basically the main thing that they were advertising today, suggesting that it had a "beautiful fat content similar to otoro." I picked up a couple of pieces for S$13.60 (US$10.85). It wasn't quite as rich as otoro but nonetheless was still tasty enough to eat easily.

I've always wanted to learn to SCUBA dive. It's been something on my list of things to do for some time, and eventually I'll get there. But here's one more reason we should all get certified.

That USA Today article tells the tale of deep sea explorers who have salvaged over 17 tons of gold and silver coins dating back to colonial-era America. The haul is estimated to be worth a whopping $500 million. For various reasons, the salvage company has not divulged any information about the ship or it's location as of yet, but it is said to lay in International Waters, and is subject to the rights of salvage at sea. The salvage team has already pulled up more than 500,000 coins and artifacts that are said to be in better condition than typical finds of this type.

That settles it, I'm going to book my scuba classes immediately. Anyone want to join The Adventure Blog salvage team?

With 300,000 tourists stranded in Thailand-- and the economy losing at least $2 billion-- Thailand's Constitutional Court banned Prime Minister Somchai Wongsawat from office for 5 years. Flights to and, more importantly, from Bangkok's two airports will resume Thursday.

Somchai, the brother-in-law of crooked billionaire/fugitive and ex-PM Thaksin Shinawatra, was booted out of office over election fraud. Thaksin's party, the People Power Party (PPP) was disbanded. Somchai, whose illegitimate right-wing government had fled to Chiang Mai, agreed to the terms of the court ruling.

This CNN report was a little premature in it's gloom and doom:

National Geographic Adventure has posted a cool audio interview with climber Mike Libecki who recently returnd from a trip to Uzbekistan and Kyrgyzstan where he, and his brother Andy, climbed Mount Asan.

The two brothers spent five weeks exploring the climbing possiblities in the area, and finished off with a 3000 foot ascent on Mount Asan's headwall. The trip was quite a bonding experience for the brothers, who have also climbed together in China and Greenland, but this was the first real technical climbing for Andy.

It sounds like the two had a great time, despite the fact they got food poisoning, from eating goat head and intestine, a local delicacy. If you ask me, if you go to a foreign country and eat goat head and intestine, you're just asking for food poisoning. ;)

MountEverest.net has an update on the Kazakhs who topped out on Everest yesterday. It seems the pair are back in ABC, safe and sound, although they did require a bit of aid from some Sherpa's on the way down.

Word is that they need a "small puff" of oxygen from one bottle and warm drinks, but they finished the descent under their own power and are resting comfortably now in their tent. Good news all around!

In other news, Fausto de Stefani has returned to Lhotse to clear up some unfinished business of his own. Fausto claims to have summitted all 14 8000m peaks, but his climb on Lhotse back in 1997 was called into question. At the time, he was climbing with friend Sergio Martini, and the two believed they had reached the top, but because of an awful blizzard, they were unable to check their position properly. Another climber later claimed to have seen the pair descending before they had reached the summit. Thus, Fausto was never credited with reaching the top on Lhotse. It remains the only 8000m peak he hasn't topped out on. Hopefully he'll soon correct this oversight and join the ranks of the elite. Hey Fausto? What took you so long to come back? Good luck!

I have to admit, Egypt has always been a destination I've dreamed of, like since I was a kid even. I mean, in our culture-- replete with Bible stories, mummy movies, Napoleon, Israel, hi-tech aliens building pyramids, Cleopatra-- how could it not be? And if you've been following this blog at all, you've probably figured out that Roland and I have always been looking for cool and challenging places to go experience. Egypt sounded really exotic to us both and we finally made it over about a decade ago.

We planned to spend about a week in Cairo and a couple weeks roaming the country (including a Nile cruise to Aswan). Although it didn't seem so at the moment, some real misfortune for everyone else turned into a break for me and Roland. Just as we were leaving L.A. in November a bunch of religionist fanatics slaughtered a busload of tourists from Switzerland or Austria and Japan. It was really a spectacular horror show with scimitar-wielding terrorists chasing unarmed tourists through the ruins and mercilessly slashing them to death. It was a bloody slaughter; 5 dozen were murdered. Egypt, one of the world's biggest tourist destinations, immediately emptied of tourists. And they stopped coming (at for a couple weeks). I feel terrible for the Austrians and Japanese, of course; I mean what a way to go! But... well, Roland and I pretty much had Egypt to ourselves. I mean it was just us and the Egyptians, who, except for the scimitar-wielders, are an extremely generous, friendly and gracious people.

Example of how this worked: the cruise. Normally these big boats are packed-- hundreds of people (including brats) running around making noise and slowing everything down. And the cabins are tiny little cells. I mean really, really tiny. The giant ship had a full crew (which included an Egyptologist) plus me, Roland and two sprightly old Brits returning to London from a lifetime of foreign service in Oman and seeing Egypt on the way home. That's right; instead of a couple hundred tourists we were four. The first result was that instead of Roland and I having to share one of these tiny cells, we each got our own tiny cell. Still horrible but an improvement. Later the Egyptologist explained to us that no tour group in his experience on the Nile had seen as many things as we had. That's because normally the tour goes as slow as the oldest and most crippled turtle-like member. The 4 of us were all really into seeing everything-- and we did.

We flew to Cairo on TWA direct from L.A. They're out of business now. Some guy from the Warner Bros affiliate picked us up at the airport and whisked us through an otherwise annoying customs rigmarole and hassel-hell. We checked into Le Meridien on Roda Island right in the center of town connected to the Corniche by its own bridge, and got a great room with a balcony overlooking the Nile. Good hotel with the best views of Cairo in the city and not expensive at all (although it probably is now). On the way back we decided to stay in the Sheraton in Dokki, a little bit away from the hectic part of town but still convenient. It was pretty inexpensive too, although I have a feeling that all the prices were down because of the recent brutal murders of all the tourists.

Food in Egypt is definitely nothing to write home about. It's amazing that such an ancient culture doesn't have a unique cuisine, like China or Morocco or Turkey. But they don't. It's kind of garden-variety Middle Eastern. The restaurants were non-descript from a culinary perspective, although the food was ok. On the cruise there was always the very boring, semi-bland choice of "chicken or fish."
If you've looked through my blog, you're no doubt aware about how I delight in the cuisines of the countries I visit. Scratch Egypt off that list. There was not one memorable restaurant in almost a month! Even the lavish ones the Warner Bros affiliate people brought us to served food that was just slightly better than mediocre. This was definitely not a food trip. It was a tombs trip.

In Cairo the biggest deal is, of course, the Pyramids. And were we in luck on that score! You know the guy always on CNN whenever they do a story on mummies or anything old in Egypt-- Dr. Zahi Hawass? Well, one of the musicians, Andy Paley, in a band on Sire Records, where I used to work, was friends with some well-known American Egyptologist, a Rockefeller no less, and through this guy we had an introduction to Dr. Hawass, then Governor of the Pyramids (now Secretary General of the Supreme Council of Antiquities). This turned out to be a golden key to the most amazing visit to the Pyramids imaginable.

Dr. Hawass treated us to a tour usually reserved for heads of state. He literally closed down the Great Pyramid and made everyone else wait while we had it to ourselves! It's pretty awesome. Most things don't live up to expectations; that one did. He said we could sleep in it if we wanted to. We didn't at the time but now I'm sorry we didn't take him up on it. We didn't climb any pyramids the way Bush just did in Chichen Itzen in Mexico last week, looking like a pansy. We didn't because a U.S. marine climbed up and fell off and died; so it's forbidden now. Afterwards he showed us a small, locked up pyramid that no one is allowed in except Charles De Gaulle and other people they wanted to impress. They don't want general traffic in there because of breathing. Next door they had a little museum with an ancient ship with a bunch of mummified pharaoh's servants on it. The Sphinx, on the other hand, was covered in scaffolding and seemed to be crumbling into the sand. Roland claims they were injecting silicon into it.

The other stuff in Cairo we went were the Egyptian Museum, which was like an over-stuffed warehouse but still amazingly interesting; El Azhar Mosque (the spiritual center of Old Cairo where, unlike the Moroccan mosques, all are welcome); the 12th Century Citadel and the Muhammed Ali Mosque (an incredibly magnificent Turkish-style mosque also known as the Alabaster Mosque and unrelated to boxers); and the City of the Dead, basically a gigantic cemetery with hundreds of thousands of people living in it.

After a pleasant enough week in Cairo we took an Egypt Air flight to Luxor to meet our Nile ship. Luxor is really spectacular (although it took some effort to put all the screaming, terrorized Austrians and Japanese being hacked to bits by the terrorists out of our minds). The temples, big and small, and burial areas in the outskirts-- The Valley of Kings and The Valley of Queens-- were mind-boggling and themselves worth a trip to Egypt. We stayed on the ship and they took over the routine, starting with the Temple of Karnak-- the heart of the Amon cult and one of the most spectacular sites either of us has ever seen... anywhere. After seeing it, the also incredible-- albeit much smaller and less grand-- Temple of Luxor wasn't nearly as breathtaking and memorable. We wound up going back to the Temple of Karnak for a cool touristy sound and light show the next night. The boat stayed tied up on the dock for a few days-- a floating hotel/restaurant for us, while we explored the Luxor region. It was really amazing. We were supposed to sail north to Dendara to see the Temple of Hathor, the goddess of love, but the Nile was too low so they kept us in Luxor longer-- which was fine with us-- and gave us a gift certificate for a night at the Hilton Hotel in Taba on the Sinai.

It's 140 miles from Luxor to Aswan and this was the heart of our trip. We (me and Roland and the two old Brits) stopped everywhere and did everything. First stop was Esna, a tiny ancient agricultural town-- we were in rural ancient Egypt now-- with an awesome little temple dedicated to Khnum, the ram-headed god. On the other side of the river and 30 miles away is Edfu. By this time we felt really comfortable on our ship and we had taken over the sound system and were playing Velvet Underground tapes as we watched ancient Egypt float by. The Temple of Edfu, the holiest site of Horus, the falcon god, is the most intact temple we saw on our whole trip. In some ways this was the one, the one where it was easiest to fantasize that I was an Egyptian living a thousand years before Christ. I wasn't in the real world any longer.

Next came Kom Ombo, the site of the temple to Sobek, the crocodile god. Roland loved it. I felt I had seen enough temples by then and I hate and fear crocodiles anyway. I was also getting bored with the crappy food on the boat and I was happy when the boat Egyptologist told us if we wanted to we could go for a camel excursion into the Libyan Desert to visit an old Coptic monastery. We all jumped at the chance and we had a truly remarkable day, although Roland picked up some accursed Arabic phrase that made my nasty camel run off whenever he shouted it.

Our last stop was Aswan, best known for the Aswan Dam, of course, but there are some pretty cool things to see there too. I think the last thing we did as part of our organized cruise was to take a falucca to Elephantine Island and Kitchener's Island to visit the gardens. It was very beautiful and peaceful and helped feed my fantasy about living 3,000 years ago. We checked into the Pullman Cataract Hotel, famous as the site of the film Death on the Nile and very beautiful-- Moorish in style. It's a luxury hotel but it was inexpensive and not really all that luxurious. Like everywhere in Egypt, the food was mediocre.

On a lark we decided to go see Abu Simbel, way down near Sudan, the gateway to Africa. We flew there from Aswan on ZAS. Most people fly in for a few hours and fly out with the same group. We were the only ones who stayed. The town gets lively when the planeful of tourists arrives and then gets real sleepy when they fly back in the evening. We loved being the only ones in this very primitive African town. We found a basic hostel to stay in. There were no real hotels. I don't recall any real restaurants either and we traded a farmer a pen for some tomatoes. The Temple of Rameses was as spectacular and awe-inspiring as the photos lead you to believe it is.

We wound up flying back to Cairo and I let Roland talk me into taking a night bus through the Sinai to Taba (to use our gift certificate and cross over and visit Eliat). We went to visit Jerusalem too-- and spent Christmas Eve in Bethelhem where tradition says Jesus was born, but that part of the trip is for another time.

UPDATE: Egyptian Roads

They should be avoided when possible. Christmas week, 2010 and a bus crashed into a truck, killing 8 American tourists, injuring 21 others, going from Aswan to Abu Simbel. Better to fly.

The crash took place early Sunday as the tourists were traveling from Aswan to Abu Simbel, the site of an ancient Egyptian temple.

Road accidents are common in Egypt because of bad roads and poor enforcement of traffic rules. An estimated 8,000 people die in car accidents annually in the country.

The Telegraph has the lowdown on a new paragliding record set yesterday by Bear Grylls, as he soared over Mount Everest in a gas powered paraglider.

Grylls, who is also an Everest Summiter, took off from 11,600 feet from his base camp in Eastern Nepal. The flight lasted four hours, and he manged to climb to a height of 29,500 feet before turning back and returning to Earth in his paraglider that was powered by a small, four stroke, gas engine.

Gryllis smashed the old record for paragliding altitude by more than 10,000 feet. However, he vows that his days as a daredevil are over, saying this was the scariest thing that he has ever done, and that he just wanted to return to his wife and children. His record still needs to be verified by an independent source, but he feels confident that will stand. Besides, it's not like he beat the old record by a few feet or anything.

Thanks to The Piton for this one.

With the holidays now upon us, the season of giving has arrived as well. If you're looking for a great cause to donate to this year, then I'd recommend you consider one of my favorite organizations, the Himalayan Stove Project. The purpose behind the HSP is simple. Its goal is to improve the health, and change the lives, of people living in the Himalaya by replacing their inefficient and inadequate cook stoves, with cleaning burning models that use less fuel. These stoves are better for the environment and produce far less smoke and other noxious fumes, substantially reducing the health risks that use the stoves on a daily basis.

The HSP can use your contributions to the cause at all times of the year, but come next Tuesday they will especially appreciate those donations. That's because they are taking part in #GivingTuesday (which follows Black Friday and Cyber Monday of course) during which all of our contributions will be matched on a 1-to-1 basis by another generous donor. To take part, all you have to do is text "STOVE" to 50155.

You can also help the cause while picking up some new gear for yourself at the same time. When you visit the Himalayan Stove Project's Supporters and Sponsors page you can get new gear from the like of Clothing Arts and Eastern Mountain Sports and with every purchase that is made, a donation is made to the HSP. We all know that EMS has all kinds of items we'd like to add to our personal gear closets, and Clothing Arts makes innovative clothing that can help keep your valuables safe while traveling.

One of the things that I love so much about the Himalayan Stove Project is that is is doing great work that has a direct impact on the lives of the people that they are trying to help. More than 1400 stoves have already been installed in homes across the Himalaya, dramatically changing the lives of the families that have received them. The HSP isn't trying to pursue some nebulous plan that could pay off at some point in the future, they're actually affecting change now. Our donations will go directly to helping further that cause, while saving lives at the same time.

I know that the holidays are a time when we're often busy and stretched thin. I also know that budgets are often tight as we search for the perfect gift for loved ones. But if you should find a little spare cash that you want to give to a good cause, consider making that cause the Himalayan Stove Project. They're doing great work in a part of the world that we all love.

I wouldn't recommend this, but Americans do travel to Iraq. I went out of my way to miss Iraq several times-- starting in 1969-- because I never had the feeling it was a safe place for Americans. And since Bush invaded and occupied the country and presided over the slaughter of tens of thousands of innocent civilians, the complete breakdown of civil society and the onset of a catastrophic civil war... it's no exaggeration to say it's considerably less safe.

One of my friends, Fred, is over there working. I tried to talk him out of it but he feels he owes the Iraqi people the completion of an important project that has been utterly botched by the incompetent and larcenous Bush Regime, a completion that will require his unique expertise and dedication. From time to time Fred sends me stories about life in the Greed Zone and I post that at Down With Tyranny. Today's installment talks less about politics and more about how one physically gets from Amman (or Kuwait) into Baghdad. I thought I'd share that part, although I recommend the whole piece for, at the very least, context-- like knowing water will be hard to come by and that there are some natives who may be less than friendly towards Americans for some reason.

Traveling to Baghdad under US Government auspices is a dilly of an experience. It was so fascinating that I took notes along the way. After arriving, everything seemed so surreal that I continued taking notes. I was here in mid-2004 but somehow I either was not exposed to the more weird aspects of life in the Green Zone or did not notice it. Anyway, here is the first part of my story for your amusement.

It took 20 hours to get to Baghdad by plane from Amman, Jordan. Prewar, one could drive it in about ten hours. The trip was bizarre to say the least. I even had written instructions and tried to follow them to the letter but alas, a few things were left out.

The delays started even before travel begins. Someone in Baghdad must first verify that you have a CAC or Common Access Card, country clearance, a Letter of Authorization (LOA, at the airport they referred to them as Travel Orders) and that there is room for you in the inn, i.e. is there an empty bunk in one of the several thousand trailers or other billets in the International Zone (better known as the Green Zone)? None of this happens in parallel, all must be done in a specific sequence. When all is gathered, a seat is reserved for you on a C-130.

Two days a week, a C-130 flies from Kuwait to Baghdad, then Baghdad to Amman, then Amman back to Baghdad and finally from Baghdad back to Kuwait; all very orderly, but intentionally (for security reasons) not on any discernable time schedule.

On the afternoon before the flight, specifically between the hours of 4 and 8 pm, you are obliged to telephone (or inquire via the Internet) the transportation people and ask for the Amman to BIAP (Baghdad International AirPort) ‘show time’. I telephoned at the appointed time and was told that show time at Marka airport-– an old airport now mostly devoted to general aviation-– was “oh-nine-thirty.”

At 8:15 the following morning, a colleague drove me to the airport. On the drive, I mused that the usually brown hills had turned green as the result of a tiny bit of rain a few days earlier and thought of it as a good sign. Such is life in a desert environment.

Marka airport dates from an earlier era. The terminal looks as though it had just slipped into a hole in the ground. It is small, nearly empty, dimly lit and dreary. Other than the employees, everyone in the terminal appeared to be headed for the same flight to Baghdad.

After standing in line for an hour, I paid the departure tax, gave someone at the ticket counter (no tickets were actually issued) my luggage bag and a copy of my LOA and was checked in. One carry-on is permitted – as long as you can carry it on your lap.

After checking in, we passengers gathered in a small open area overlooking part of the runway and waited some more. A forlorn looking Duty Free shop was open as was a stand that sold cookies, sodas and such but otherwise the joint was empty.

After a rather long wait, Jordan Immigration opened a departure counter and someone called out that the immigration line was open. So, I had the dubious pleasure of yet another line in which to stand. Having completed that task, everyone re-gathered into a glassed-off waiting area and, of course, waited some more.

At 12:45 pm, a bus pulled up and after more waiting, a group of us crowded onto the bus and were taken to the plane. This being a C-130 we boarded by walking up a ramp at the back of the plane. The seats are web mesh on aluminum frames. Down each side of the plane a row of seats faces inward; down the center of the plane two rows of seats separated by web mesh faces outward. I’ve attached pictures for your amusement.

The web mesh is the seat back. For those sitting in the middle rows of seats only the mesh separates each persons back from the back of the person on the other side. The plane narrows in the middle to accommodate the wheel wells. Passengers seated in that section find themselves sharing knee space as well. Amazingly enough, several passengers seemed to sleep or toil away (play?) on laptops that were truly on their laps, despite the rather uncomfortable arrangement. When one of the air force types (shall I call him the flight attendant?) went from the front of the plane to the back, he did so by stepping carefully between the knees of the passengers from one seat edge to the next.

Some 70 of us crowded onto the plane. The toilet on the plane is a bucket behind a curtain, if anyone is desperate for relief.

Our baggage, collected on a pallet and wrapped in plastic wrap like a piece of meat at the supermarket, was fork-lifted onto the plane, the ramp raised, the door latched and off we went. The plane jerked forward from a standing position but climbed into the sky quite nicely. The flight was noisy and uncomfortable but not overly long.

At 1:54 pm, the pilot landed the plane in a spiral motion-– rather reminiscent of the time I did my pilot’s biennial with a stunt pilot as my check pilot. In this case however, the reason for landing in such an unusual way was to avoid flying over areas where the troublemakers like to shoot at low flying planes. Touchdown was rather sudden and abrupt.

Even leaving the plane is an experience. First the luggage pallet is removed – we probably could not get off the plane otherwise – then a hippy-looking chap yelled “skull caps off” and “follow me." We stumbled off the plane, in two remarkably straight lines, for some distance behind the plane. The reason was immediately obvious. The engines were still running, the noise was deafening and the wind the engines generated was incredible. We next pushed off to a tent/building where our arrival was registered.

I was instructed to call upon arrival at BIAP but told not to give any flight times, etc. over the phone (seemed strange as the flight was over) but I followed the instructions. I had to borrow a phone as my Jordanian phone did not work despite receiving a SMS message welcoming me to Iraq from Fastlink Jordan.

It is not obvious where the luggage is placed upon arrival, and given the impression I had that the bags continued to the Green Zone with the passengers, I did not go fetch my bag-- a bit of a mistake-- but that’s another story.

For most folks who arrive on a C-130, getting to the Green Zone from BIAP is via steel-plated buses called Rhinos. The color, size and hulking shape of these beasts suggest that they are well-named. Unfortunately the Rhinos do not run until the wee hours of the morning (to avoid being shot at during the daytime, when folks can be along the road without appearing suspicious). So for those of us who arrived via C-130, it’s a 6 to 10 hour additional wait.

Having time to kill, I went exploring. I found a Dining Facility (in Green Zone-speak, a DFAC) but they would not let me enter with my laptop (security has its own peculiar logic) and there was no place to store it safely. I found a PX (Post eXchange) and cluster of trailers housing a Burger King, a Subway sandwich shop, a Green Beans (a Starbucks-like coffee shop found on military bases), a jewelry shop, a barber shop, a beauty salon and a gift shop. All seemed in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by churned up and hardened mud with large river stones in place of paving. The whole business was surrounded by concrete T-walls (blast protection).

Later I took a bus to Camp Striker (where the Rhinos pick up their passengers). The bus was accompanied by a van onto which they place any luggage that passengers are carrying (again, all in the name of security). At Striker, the waiting area is housed in a large temporary building with coffee, tea, television, and wireless internet (for a fee), etc. For those who can tolerate endless propaganda there are some couches and chairs around a couple of televisions with identical smatterings of Fox News and military pep talk pieces. There are also a few books and magazines to read.

At about 11:00 pm, the Rhino passengers queued up, identified themselves and had their names placed on a manifest and were told the number of the bus that they are to take to the Green Zone. Rhino passengers are required to have a flak jacket and helmet. Of course I did not have these items (and did not get any for several days). But I did receive a lengthy lecture on the subject. Just where, how or when I could have acquired this equipment was left out of the lecture.

The Rhinos finally arrived, an announcement was made and we we went out to meet them. The luggage was lined up in a row and sniffer dogs examined them after which the baggage and other boxes were tossed into a shipping container that sat on a flat bed trailer.

Five or six Rhinos (one purposefully empty) took us to the Green Zone. We were escorted by humvees with a pair of helicopters watching overhead. At the Green Zone, the luggage truck was unloaded, and again inspected by other sniffer dogs.

I was not told beforehand that I would be going into the Palace that morning, and thus did not get the necessary temporary badge. By the time someone came to get me, the badge person had left and my escort and I had to wait until someone of higher rank arranged for a temporary badge. The badge was needed simply to let me pass through the Palace on my way to a “Transient Hootch”, Hootch being the name given to the sleeping quarters that are trailers or modified shipping containers. It is a Vietnamese word for huts that serve as living quarters. The US military borrowed the name from the Vietnamese during the Vietnam war and have used it ever since. Once a temporary badge was issued, my escort took me to Billeting, picked up a room key and finally, at 4:00 am I crawled into bed.

So, you see the waiting is unbelievable, especially when you realize that everyone who enters or leaves the airport via this process loses a day in entering and a day in leaving. The drag on individuals and the cost to the USG must be enormous. I think the C-130 holds about 70 people. My guess is that the people cost alone easily exceeds $500,000 each trip. My logic: each trip 65 to 75 people travel to Amman and 65 to 75 from Amman plus similar numbers going through Kuwait – each person loses 16 to 24 hours in traveling this short distance-- the average fee expended for the services of these people likely exceeds $1,000 per person per day (my estimate may even be low)-- add in the cost of the C-130s, the security personnel, the Rhinos, the escorts and the number soon staggers the imagination-- all this in the name of security.

The costs go on. You cannot just change planes in Amman or Kuwait and fly on to Baghdad. Thus folks other than the military who are traveling to Iraq for the US Government must of necessity be lodged in a hotel for a day or more until such time as they can continue their journey.

I don't think the Baghdad Tourism Department is paying John McCain to do tv ads for them. I'd have to guess John McCain is insane.




UPDATE: AND AIR TRAVEL WITHIN IRAQ IS NO BOWL OF CHERRIES EITHER

Tomorrow's Washington Post carries a report from Josh Partlow, a journalist stationed in occupied Iraq, Flying Standby On Air Baqubah: Sun, Sand, Fleas. Sounds like Josh didn't have any more of a pleasant time than my friend Fred did. He was at a forward operating base north of Baghdad and wanted to fly back to lovely, historic, scenic, cosmopolitan Baghdad on a Chinook helicopter. The day started with a little sandstorm.

At 9:30 p.m. I reported to the airport lounge-- a gravel lot with one wooden bench-- to wait for my flight to Baghdad. I had a relatively clear view of the moon. How sandy could it be?

It turns out that pilots who don't want to crash also don't want to fly through sand, so we were on "weather hold." Not canceled and not subjected to some defined delay, just on hold. In this purgatory, I tried to amuse myself. This was difficult. The waiting area apparently was prime habitat for the notorious Iraqi sand flea. I'm not sure they were sand fleas. I never saw them. I just felt their tiny bites again and again and again, in places both public and private. In between swats I would look up, see the moon and remark to a fellow traveler, "How sandy could it be?"

The hours passed. At midnight I peeled off in search of food. Say what you will about the inhumanity of 15-month tours and denying soldiers beer in a desert, there is one indisputable example of military kindness: "midnight chow." After a hamburger, fries and banana milk, I felt renewed. The moon looked good. I counted a couple of stars. But the hold still held firm. Around 3 a.m. we got the word: all flights canceled.

So he was on standby for the next day-- and it was "somewhere north of 110 degrees hot." And boring. "Thursday morning, my colleague in Baghdad had to postpone his flight out of the country because I hadn't returned, and I woke up wearing the same sweat-encrusted clothes I'd worn the past three days." He fantasized about dressing up like an Iraqi and taking a taxi through the war zone, which is basically all of Iraq except, sometimes, on U.S. bases. Eventually, because he knew someone who knew someone who had a 'copter, he made it back to the Green Zone. "Just after 7 p.m., with a thick red pelt of bites and clothes that could stand on their own, I was home. In 46 hours, I had traveled 37 miles. Walking would have been faster."

Ohhhhh...I sooooo needed this. After a number of post-work drinks, I needed some food. And of course the first thing that came to my mind was a blazingly hot curry like a vindaloo from whomever was still serving it down at Boat Quay. I'm not even sure of what the name of this place was, but the spiciness of this thing totally hit the spot, especially when accentuated by those dried chili pods. Too bad that the fish in this thing was so nasty that I just let all of the protein go to waste. Note to self: next time, order the vegetarian option!

Yesterday this little message appeared on the Primal Quest Website


"Primal Quest 2008

Details about Primal Quest 2008 coming soon.

May 17, 2007

Stay tuned for more info..."


So, it looks like the biggest, baddest adventure race on the planet will be returning next year. But will the format remain the same? Where will it be held? What can we expect? I guess we'll have to wait and see. And hope this isn't another false start. But seeing as how it's on the PQ News page, I think we can expect some concrete details soon.

Like The Rock of Dunamase, Castleroache is positioned high on a rock outcrop that towers over the surrounding landscape. Castleroache is possibly the finest example of Ireland's mid-thirteenth century castles, it is thought to have been constructed by Lady Rohesia de Verdun in 1236 to serve as a bastion of defence for the Anglo-Norman colony in Louth against the Gaelic tribes of Ulster. Lady Rohesia was a formidable woman, and is said to have thrown the castle's architect through one of the tower windows so he could never reveal the castles secrets. 

The castle is nearly triangular in shape with a projecting tower at the north-east angle. It is protected on three sides by the precipitous slope that surrounds it, with the entrance on the eastern side protected by a deep rock-cut ditch. A wooden drawbridge would have led to the interior of the castle through the two massive D-shaped towers. The drawbridge may once have had additional protection from outworks or a barbican gate but no clear above-ground remains of that can be seen today. 

These towers are rounded at the front in the defensive style of the time with a number of arrow loops at varied levels to allow the archers defending the gateway to loose murderous volleys on the attacking enemy. The towers also  have four stories at the rear that would have provided accommodation and living space for the garrison of Castleroache. 

As you can see in the images of the eastern entrance side of the castle, there are a number of rectangular cavities regularly spaced along the wall near the top (the image above gives the best angle to see them). These are 'put-log' holes, and are evidence that once wooden battlements or hoardings, once hung over the side of the castle walls, similar to those that once surrounded the mighty Keep of Trim Castle, in Co. Meath. From these wooden hoardings, defenders would have been able to fire arrows and throw stones down onto anyone attacking the walls, adding to its already formidable defences.

Area of Great Hall

However, like Dublin Castle and Kilkenny Castle, Castleroache seems to have been a keepless castle, so there was no central defensive tower to retreat to had the walls been breached. This appears to have become the defensive fashion of the mid-thirteenth century, and instead of a keep there would have been a large great hall. In the case of Castleroache, the great hall was located on the southern side of the castle (to the left as you enter through the towers).

This castle still strongly exudes a feeling of power and dominance over the landscape today. It has to be one of the most impressive heritage sites I have visited in Ireland, and it is one of those sites that is so massive, so imposing and so breathtaking that pictures cannot do it justice – it is one you must experience for yourself to gain a true impression of its size and grandeur.

To find Castleroache from Dublin, head north on the M1 and exit at Junction 17. Take the first exit off the roundabout following signs for the N53/Castleblaney, continue out on this road until you see a right-hand turn signed for Castleroache and Forkhill, take this turn and follow the road, the site will be on your right hand side up a laneway. Park on road, and please be aware that the site is on farmland, please do not block any gateways and please ensure all gates are closed behind you. Simply walk up the slope through the field to access the castle, there is an interpretation panel on your right hand side when you enter through the gateway.

I hope you enjoy this blog, we're trying to cover as many sites as we can across Ireland. If anyone has any suggestions about sites you'd like us to cover please do leave us a comment. If you enjoy information and images of Irish heritage sites then do follow us on Facebook, Twitter and Google+ If you'd like to support us then please consider downloading an audioguide to one of Ireland's wonderful heritage sites. They are packed with original music and sound effects and are a great way of experiencing the story of Ireland. They only cost €1.99 and are fun whether you are at the site, or listening from the comfort of your own home. If you enjoy stories of the turbulent medieval period in Ireland try our guide to Viking and Medieval Dublin, visit us at www.abartaaudioguides.com for free previews and to download your free audioguide to the Rock of Dunamase  or the free audioguide to the wonderful heritage town of Kells in County Meath
All photographs © Neil Jackman / abartaaudioguides.com

St.Manchan's Shrine

‘The shrine of Manchan, of Maethail, was covered by Ruaidhri Ua Conchobhair, and an embroidering of gold was carried over it by him, in as good a style as a relic was ever covered’.

St Manchan's Shrine on display in the church at Boher

The small village of Boher in rural County Offaly holds one of Ireland’s real treasures, a breathtaking example of early medieval craft, design, ingenuity and religious practice. This is St. Manchan’s Shrine, thought to have once contained the remains of the saint himself. St. Manchan is said to have founded the monastery at Lemanaghan located nearby to Boher. He is thought to have originated in north-east Ulster, and originally served at the nearby famous monastery of Clonmacnoise before establishing his own foundation at Lemanaghan. St. Manchan died in 665 during the Mortalitas Magna, the Great Plague. His Feast Day is on 24th January. Our friends at Pilgrimage in Medieval Ireland have an excellent piece on Lemanaghan that is well worth reading, you can find it here https://pilgrimagemedievalireland.com/tag/st-manchans-shrine/

The shrine is thought to date to the twelfth century. It is quite possible that it was originally commissioned by the King of Connacht, Toirrdelbach Ua Conchobair, under whose patronage the similarly beautiful Cross of Cong had been commissioned. A reference in the Annals of the Four Masters for 1166 states that ‘The shrine of Manchan, of Maethail, was covered by Ruaidhri Ua Conchobhair , and an embroidering of gold was carried over it by him, in as good a style as a relic was ever covered’. Ruaidhri Ua Conchobhair was the son of Toirrdelbach, and inherited the Kingdom of Connacht and became High King of Ireland. Perhaps by redecorating and recovering the shrine he was establishing his own personal connection to the shrine, while reinforcing his father’s patrimony. The shrine is certainly a beautiful example of the patronage of Irish kings to the church.

The 'front' of the shrine

The 'rear' of the shrine

The shrine is made from yew wood, and in the shape of a gabled structure, not unlike a tent. Similar shaped stone shrines can be seen at churches of a similar date, like this example at Temple Cronan in the Burren of County Clare. The decorative elements of the shrine are of cast, gilt bronze, with interlaced beasts and snakes, and geometric designs featuring yellow and red enamels, and animal heads lead from the rings onto the shrine's border.

Detail of the figures

Detail of the figures

The front and back of the shrine are dominated by a large and ornate cross. The crosses would have been surrounded by up to fifty figures, though only eleven of those survive today, held in place with small copper pegs. These figures are represented in great detail, all are in loincloths or kilts (some of which are quite ornate) and they are bare-chested, displaying emaciated ribs, perhaps a representation of piety or sacrifice. Though we cannot say for certain who the figures represent, it is likely that they depict saints or key religious figures. One holds a small axe, that may be a symbol of his martyrdom or it may be a representation of the early Irish saint MacTáil , who was often depicted holding an adze (for more on MacTáil please see our free audioguide to the Kildare Monastic Trail). Another of the figures wears what appears to be a bishop’s mitre. Many of the figures have beards, some of which are forked, and they have short hair, in some cases with a centre parting. 

Tomás Ó Carragáin suggested that the shrine may have been modelled on the Ark of the Covenant, as described in the Old Testament. ‘Both the Ark and St. Manchan’s Shrine were constructed of wood overlain with decorative metal, and there can be little doubt that the supports at the corners of the shrine, and the pair of rings attached to them at each side, were designed to allude to the Ark ‘You will cast for gold rings for it and fix them to its four supports: two rings on one side and two rings on the other. You will also make shafts of acacia wood and overlay them with gold and pass the shafts through the rings on the side of the Ark, by which to carry it’. (Exodus 25:10–22). 

One of the rings on the shrine

Though none of the shafts have survived, it is possible to imagine the shrine being carried during processions or ceremonial occasions, like St. Manchan's Feast Day on January 24th. Perhaps four monks would have borne the shrine high on their shoulders, followed by the rest of the monastery, as they processed through the crowds of local worshippers and pilgrims. I wonder if it would have been a noisy, celebratory atmosphere, like some present-day processions in Cuba or other Latin countries, full of music and festival food. Or perhaps it was a more sombre and pious affair, with downcast eyes and solemn bells. 

Detail of the intricate decoration

One of the sides of the shrine

One of the sides of the shrine

In the seventeenth century, the shrine was taken to a chapel in the nearby village of Boher. St. Manchan’s Roman Catholic Church, in which the shrine is now displayed, was built in the 1860s. As well as the shrine, the church also has a number of stunning stained-glass windows, five of which are from the studio of the renowned artist Harry Clarke. These windows were ordered from Harry Clarke’s studio in 1930 at a cost of £320. Just one year later, Harry Clarke died at the very pinnacle of his career, aged 41. His unmistakable designs were the result of a painstaking process. After weeks of sketching and drafting the designs, he had the glass prepared with acid, etched and then painted in a wash of rich, vibrant colours that help to illuminate the interior of the church. One of his windows depicts St. Manchan standing above his shrine, which is beautifully represented by the artist. 

The shrine as depicted in the Harry Clarke window

This irreplaceable treasure was very nearly lost to the Irish people when it was stolen in 2012. Thankfully the Gardái recovered the shrine shortly afterwards and it was eventually returned to the church for display. 

The church at Boher is certainly worth a visit to see this remarkable shrine in the flesh. You can also see a replica of the shrine on display in the National Museum of Ireland, Archaeology on Kildare Street Dublin. 

The Roman Catholic Church of St.Manchan, Boher, County Offaly

Thank you for taking the time to visit our blog, and I really hope you find it helpful. If you'd like to support us please do consider downloading an audioguide from my website www.abartaheritage.ie, where we have a number of guides that tell the story of Irish heritage and the majority are absolutely free to download. 

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Photo © Paolo Evangelista-All Rights Reserved
Paolo Evangelista holds degrees in music and anthropology, but decided to pack his bags, his espresso machine (after all, he's Italian) and his cameras to live in Australia for a while. Currently based in Perugia, he traveled to Zanzibar where most of his galleries are of.

Most interesting are Paolo's street photographs in Stone Town.

It's the old city and cultural heart of Zanzibar, where nothing much has changed in the last 200 years. Its winding alleys, bustling bazaars, lovely mosques and typical Arab houses are exquisite backdrops for this sort of photography. Its name conjures sea traders, explorers, Sultans and the fragrance of exotic spices. It was also declared a World Heritage Site by UNESCO.

Also of interest to me is Paolo's gallery of Sydney's Chinese market, since I photograph in New York Chinatown.

Short answer: very, very safe. If you're looking for trouble-- in Mexico City or anywhere else-- you can surely find it. But all the hype about Mexico City being a dangerous place for American tourists seemed to me to be completely unfounded. I had a quasi-revelation while I was there about why. There's a subway stop at the airport. It costs 25 American cents to go anywhere in the city. I took it to my hotel and it was simple and clean and took 25 minutes. A taxi takes between an hour and an hour and forty-five minutes... depending on congestion caused by road building. And taxis cost... well, that's where the hype comes in. It's an oft repeated truism in Mexico City that if you take a "street cab" you could be kidnapped and held for ransom. It has happened-- only not to tourists. It has happened to rich and upper middle class Mexicans. There appears to be a ring of kidnappers in cahoots with some elements of the police who kidnap rich Mexicans and ransom them. The game doesn't work on tourists.

I took street taxis around Mexico City frequently. No problems whatsoever, although the fine folks at the hotel, especially the door staff, were adamant it was dangerous. A metered "street taxi" from my hotel to the great restaurants in the Polanco district costs around $3. The hotel cars that are always being pushed charge $20 for the same ride and the SITIO cabs the hotels claim are safe also try getting away-- no meters-- with $20. Those numbers explain the hyped up danger stories. The motive is very significant profit. The American ex-pats I spoke to in Mexico City laughed about it. They all take street cabs.

No matter where I travel, the employees at the upper end hotels always tell me "it's too far to walk." It never is. In Mexico City they also claimed it was too dangerous for me and my two robust friends to walk from Paseo de la Reforma to a market about a mile away. The walk brought us away from the architecturally stunning Reforma and into the "real" day-to-day Mexico City. Dangerous? Not even a little.

Last week I mentioned I was going to go to El Museo Dolores Olmedo in Xochimilco. It took almost an hour by subway and then a little train ride (25 cents on each). It costs $4.50 to get in, although they accepted my L.A. County Museum of Art membership card as a substitute and they accepted a teacher's ID from a friend. (All 3 museums I went to happily accepted the L.A. museum card for free entry.) Anyway, Dolores Olmedo, who died 6 years ago, was Diego Rivera's patron (and longtime lover-- and, rumor has it, also Frida Kahlo's lover, if more briefly). Her gorgeous, magical estate in the middle of the city-- although it certainly seems like you're far from any city-- has been turned into an art museum specializing in the works of Rivera and, to a lesser, but still significant, extent, Kahlo. I had been to Mexico City many times before but had never gone there before. I'm sure I'll be back... every time I visit Mexico City.

The Tamayo Museum in Chapultepec Park was a huge disappointment. I remember it as a spectacular building housing an even more spectacular collection of Tamayo art. The building is still super. The art... no. There were no Tamayos. Instead there were 4 absolutely wretched exhibitions that had to be justified with long explanations because they were so obviously mediocre. The first one we wandered into was 3 rooms of photos of toilet paper and urine by a radical Brazilian named Artur Barrio. A few years ago I decided to stop being a member of the Museum of Contemporary Art in L.A. because the work grasped at trying to be art and instead was just a bunch of ugly intellectual polemics. Barrio's work was far worse than anything I ever saw at MOCA.

Canadian photographer Jeff Wall had an exhibition that wasn't offensive at all-- nor was it remotely interesting. It just filled some space with big, well-lit photos. Swedish photographer Henrik Hakansson also had a huge exhibition. It could have been called "Snapshots from my dull trip to Chiapas."
Pablo Pijnappel I would have voted to pass on but my two companions are Dutch and they were fascinated by his Dutch last name. We gave his unremarkable video a minute before leaving, a minute more than it was worth. Almost any random YouTube clip would have been more interesting and artistic.

El Museo de Arte Moderno has a kick-ass sculpture garden

Fortunately I then remembered that across the street, still in Chapultepec, was one of the western hemisphere's greatest modern art museums, the Museo de Arte Moderno. There were plenty of Tamayos, of course, as well as a spectacular sampling of Mexico's greatest contemporary artists: Rivera and Kahlo of course, and Siqueiros, Gerzco, Orozco, Galan, Costa, Carrington, etc. Between the permanent collection and the unbelievable sculpture garden, it is easy to while away a day at this beautiful oasis. We also saw a career retrospective of Remedios Varo Uranga. At first I thought the work was by some hippie in the 60s who was smoking a lot of Acapulco gold. Then I realized she was born in 1908 and had a vision way ahead of the trends. Definitely worth checking out.

The other day I mentioned I had gone to the culinary apex of Mexico City, Izote. The following night my friends wanted to eat on the roof of their hotel, the Best Western Majestic, which has a great view of the Zocolo and the National Palace but extremely mediocre food. We made up for it the following night when I got the fantastic concierge at the Embassy Suites to recommend something as good as Izote. He did: Pompano. It's not far from Izote in Polanco and, like it, it offers a modern-- and healthful-- delicious take on Mexican cooking. It's a seafood restaurant and the sampler of 3 cerviches was, simply put, the best cerviche I had ever tasted. Everything each of us ate was spectacular and I can't recommend this place too highly. It's at #42 Moliere in the old Jewish section of town (and not far from a fully functioning synagogue at Eugenio Sue).


UPDATE: BUT THINGS ARE DETERIORATING

The good news is that prices are going down on hotels and tourist-related things. The bad news is that Mexico is rated about as likely as Pakistan to disintegrate! The U.S. Joint Forces Command warns that Mexico's "government, its politicians, police and judicial infrastructure are all under sustained assault and press by criminal gangs and drug cartels. How that internal conflict turns out over the next several years will have a major impact on the stability of the Mexican state. Any descent by Mexico into chaos would demand an American response based on the serious implications for homeland security alone."

OK, that thing turned out to have a few small shrimp in there. But when I first opened it, it looked like just cabbage and rice, which seemed a bit odd until I saw the dude next to me squeeze that little tube of Korean gochujang chili sauce into the rice and mix it up. There weren't any "chicken or fish" choices either...it was just this. Frankly I'm surprised that they even served us a meal on such a short hop out of Beijing. But this definitely was a nice and peaceful flight on Asiana.