Yesterday the U.S. National Park Service announced three new national water trails, offering up some excellent options for paddlers looking for great routes to explore. The three new water trails each bring their own unique properties to the table which will likely make them popular options for kayakers.

The three new routes include the Island Loop Trail in St. Clair County, Michigan, which crosses two rivers, a canal and parts of Lake Huron. The Missouri National Recreation River Water Trail is a 147-mile stretch of river that passes through parts of South Dakota, Nebraska and Iowa, while the Red Rock Water Trail is a very scenic 36-mile loop that falls on beautiful Lake Red Rock, which is also in Iowa.

The press release announcing these new water trails highlights more of what the have to offer. For instance, the Island Loop flows along the border of the U.S. and Canada, while the Missouri River route follows part of the route that Lewis and Clark took on their famous expedition to explore the western United States back in 1804. The Red River Trail, which I've actually been on, even passes by abandoned frontier towns that still stand today.

While we are starting to creep into late fall, the days are still plenty warm and the last of the autumn colors can make for a great time to go on a paddling excursion. Before too long, winter will be here and most of us will put away our kayaks and canoes until spring. If you've got the time, why not break out your boat for one last paddle this weekend. You may even find a national water trail near you.

One of my favorite things about travel, as I explained in my Morocco blogs (here and here) is eating. I love trying new and exotic foods, especially natural, healthy stuff that so many traditional societies are still into. Wait 'til I write about the eats in Thailand, but even from what I wrote about food in Sri Lanka, you probably could guess that spicy, tropical foods turn me on big time. And Bali and I were made for each other!

I had never been to Indonesia when Rebecca, Brad, Craig and I went to Bali last spring. But, though Indonesian cuisine is not that well known in the U.S. yet, I spent nearly 4 years living in Amsterdam, where Indonesian restaurants are as common as Chinese restaurants are here. And, with lots of vegetarian specialities and delicious and subtle-- and not so subtle-- spices, I was always a big fan. But there's another reason I might not be a perfect tour guide to the intricacies of Balinese cuisine. Almost all my breakfasts, lunches and dinners were prepared by the incredible Wayan, a first class chef who "came with" the villa we rented. So the kind of restaurant tour guide I'm planning to write for Bangkok isn't going to translate that well for Bali. On the other hand, in all cultures, the best food is fresh, home-cooked food-- and fresh home-cooked food is all I ever ate in Bali.

Don't get me wrong; if you want the worst and most unhealthy garbage man has ever eaten in history, you can find it in Bali: Burger King, McDonald's, Pizza Hut, Kentucky Fried... that crap is all crowded into the tourist ghettos down south in the relatively hideous sprawl of Kuta, Sanur, Legian and more up-market Jambaran. And Balinese restaurants per se don't actually exist. Eating out is note a balinese custom. There are Javanese and Chinese restaurants and restaurants in general-- at least in the way we think of restaurants in the West-- really are just for (wealthy; if you got there, you're wealthy by south Asian standards) tourists. The Balinese eat mostly at home. The Javanese and other Indonesians who live and work on Bali eat in padangs (Sumatran restaurants that serve lots and lots of very spicy small dishes like tapas and only charge you for what you eat) and warungs (a small roadside eating stall/coffee-shop-gossip place) and in night markets.

Before we left for L.A. I faxed Wayan my dietary complexities-- fresh vegetables, fruits and fish, no sugar, no canned stuff, nothing made with flour and light on the #1 staple of Balinese eating: rice-- and only brown rice at that. Seemingly effortlessly she was able to adapt that to traditional Balinese and Indonesian cuisine. The food she served, three meals a day, was always astounding delicious, as well as healthy. I can barely remember all the delicious new fruits she introduced me to at breakfast everyday: jackfruit (which I couldn't get enough of-- especially cooked in savory dishes), campedak (which is I think what pirates referred to as breadfruit), mangosteens (my favorite of all, something that I still dream about), rambutan, sakaya, durian (a delicious but smelly fruit I remember from my days in India), snake-fruit, starfruit... as well as lots of more familiar things like mangos and papayas and oranges pineapples, bananas... Breakfast was always such a joy in the incredible dining room open to the world, overlooking the Ayung river, birds singing away. Balinese life is very integrated with the outdoors. It took me-- insect-phobe that I am-- about 2 minutes to get over all my retiscence and embrace it completely. Every day after breakfast I would sit down with Wayan and go over the two cook books (with color pictures) she has, one for Balinese cuisine and one for Indonesian cuisine and pick out dishes for lunch and dinner. Then she'd go shopping.

Indonesian cuisine, which is more sophisticated than Balinese cooking, has obvious influences from India, China, the Middle East-- Indonesia is overwhelmingly Muslim, although Bali is a majority Hindu island-- and even Europe and Japan. The food tends to be spicy-- and unless you make it clear that you don't want it that way-- very spicy. I like the "very" part. Rice (nasi) is the center of most meals, although I did fine without it. Nasi goreng and nasi campur are, respectively, fried and plain rice mixed with... whatever. Sate is a big deal too-- grilled, skewered meat or shrimps dipped in delicious spicy peanut sauce. Gado-gado is something almost anyone will love-- vegetables smothered in peanut sauce.

It was tempting to eat every single meal in the house because I was sure no one would come close to Wayan's meals, not to mention the fact that I knew everything would be healthy. But, of course, I had to try a couple restaurants, right?

My instincts were right. Home cookin' is always better! And Wayan is even better than most home cooking! There's no way we weren't going to try the restaurant that is supposed to be the best in Bali, Mozaic in Ubud. The chef is Chris Salans from the French Laundry in the Napa Valley, a spectacular restaurant. The patio-dining environment was exquisite and the food-- perhaps the best restaurant food in Bali-- was good... but not even close to Wayan's. And Mozaic is really expensive! We also tried the Cafe Lotus, a longtime tourist classic in the center of Ubud. It was ok-- just tourist food though. So in Bali too... there's no place like home!

The video below was released last week, prior to the U.S. government shutdown getting resolved. but its core message remains a good one even though the National Parks have reopened. It was put together by the National Parks Conservation Association with the cooperation of some park rangers who were clearly not happy that the shutdown kept visitors out of the parks for two weeks. Even now, with the budget issues resolved, the parks still face plenty of challenges to their future however, and the video is a good reminder of how special these places truly are.

I Am a Park Ranger from NPCA on Vimeo.

As we head into the weekend the Antarctic explorers preparing to launch their expeditions continue to play the waiting game. There is a contingent of them in Punta Arenas that are organizing their gear and getting ready to head out to the frozen continent, but for now all they can do is wait for ALE (Antarctic Logistics and Expeditions) to tell them when they can fly. Storms in Antarctica have prevented flights out to Union Glacier over the past few days, which means there is a backlog of supplies and personnel waiting to be transported to the base there. Once ALE is able to clear that backlog however, the teams can begin to fly at last.

Amongst the adventurers who are waiting to start are Chris and Marty Fagan, who have spent the last few days creating individual meals for their ski expedition to the South Pole. Similarly, Daniel Burton, who intends to ride his bike to the Pole, has been prepping his equipment as well. He indicated that gear weigh ins were scheduled to take place today and that after a meeting with ALE he should have a better of idea of when he might get to start. Presumably Lewis Clarke, the 16-year old Brit hoping to become the youngest to ski to the Pole, is completing his gear prep and attending the same meetings as he gets ready to make the 700 mile (1126 km) journey from Hercules Inlet to the South Pole too.

Richard Parks also continues to wait for the proper weather window, although that is expected to come today or tomorrow. He's been in Antarctica for more than a week now and has been staying at the Union Glacier Camp before heading out to Hercules for his start. He intends to challenge the speed record to the South Pole but is waiting for a few storms to pass before he begins. His original plan had him getting underway on November 18, but he seems unconcerned with a few days delay. Lets face it, there is a long season ahead and if Richard truly will have a shot at the speed record, which is roughly 24 days, he still has plenty of time before he needs to get going. With a little luck, he'll launch the expedition this weekend.


Aussie Geoff Wilson ran into some difficulty yesterday. Not only was he facing a 5 km (3.1 mile) climb, he also found himself in the middle of a nasty crevasse field. Fortunately he was able to navigate through without too many issues and has better luck today. Geoff is kiting to the South Pole and after a bit of a slow start with some nasty weather keeping him in his tent for four days, he seems to be finding a nice rhythm now.

The three teams who are taking part in the South Pole Allied Challenge departed for Antarctica today. They're flying from Cape Town to the Novo Base, where they'll spend another couple of days getting organized before flying out to their starting points. These three teams, one from the U.K., one from the U.S. and one made up of representatives of the Commonwealth, will then race to the Pole from three degrees out. Each team has an expedition leader but for the most part they are made up of soldiers who have been wounded in the line of duty. They should officially get going sometime next week.

Finally, I'd be remiss if I didn't mention the Scott Expedition, which is quickly approaching the end of their first month out on the ice. Ben and Tarka continue to make solid progress despite nasty headwinds making for slow going. Yesterday they managed nearly 15 miles (24 km) as they continue their slog to the Pole. The boys still have quite a long way to go before their expedition is done, but they seem in good spirits and are well focused on their mission, which is to complete the route that Robert Falcon Scott had taken back in 1911-1912.

That's all for this week. We'll check in again on Monday to see if any progress has been made. More teams should be getting underway soon, provided the weather cooperates of course.

Visiting a quiet Bozo fishing village on the Niger

The alternative title for this post was A How To Guide For Seeing Mali but I thought the one I used would be more eye-grabbing. I suppose if you take all the vaccines that the tropic disease doctors insist on for a visit to Mali-- and thereby not have to worry as much about cholera, typhus, typhoid fever, polio, yellow fever, Hepatitis A and B, meningitis, and malaria (there is no way to protect yourself from Dengue Fever)-- you can eat whatever and wherever and whenever you like. I, on the other hand, only did the barest prophylactic minimum-- the yellow fever vaccine, without which you can't get a visa, and malarone pills, to possibly prevent malaria. The rest... I left to the fates and my own well-honed good instincts for prudently watching what I eat and drink.

I learned about getting sick on the road when I was much younger. In 1969 I drove a VW van across Asia to India on a two year excursion. I was a vegetarian and I quickly attributed the fact that everyone-- like I mean everyone-- around me was coming down with seriously debilitating diarrhea, to the differences in diet between myself and them. I'll spare you the unsavory details of what the Kabul Runs entails, but I can still remember the first time I realized that the slab of dead animal hanging from a hook in every (unrefrigerated) marketplace across Asia was black because it was covered in flies.

These Third World countries are poor and don't have the kinds of infrastructure we do-- even after 8 years of George Bush-- and everywhere you look there are ample opportunities to get really, really sick. Think back to Jamal's earliest flashbacks of the Mumbai slums in Slumdog Millionaire; all that poopie is not poetic license. One of my closest friends, painter Eveline Pommier, contracted cholera in India and died, full of promise and vigor and beauty, still in her 20s. Mali today is at least as bad as rural India was two or three decades ago.

That said, Mali is a gorgeous and unique country with wonderfully, warm, open, friendly people who have a culture unlike anything else you'll find anywhere on earth. It's well worth visiting. So how do you do it? It isn't a place I'd suggest just getting on a plane to, showing up in Bamako, and playing it by ear. There are no really current guide books although the best one I found, Bradt's Mali, Edition 3, is the best out there. First written in 2000, it was somewhat updated in 2004. It was reprinted in 2007 but not changed from 2004. A lot has happened in Mali since 2004 and some of it is even hard to find on the Net. But the Net is where I turned to figure out what to do about my trip. And I struck gold on the first shot.

I found fellow blogger Sophie (aka, Toubab), a Swedish woman who runs a gem of a hotel in Djenné, the Djenne Djenno (which opened in 2006), and blogs about the experience. Sophie's blog is fascinating in and of itself but the big score for me was when I contacted her to book a room, she helped me figure out the best places to stay throughout Mali. And, best yet, she steered me towards a reputable and capable tour agent, Tounga Tours from whom we could get an essential 4WD vehicle with a dependable driver.

I had already figured out that the best hotel choice in Bamako, the capital and the city with the international airport. The Hotel Salam, a relative newcomer at the top of the market, looked like a better choice than either of the two traditional considerably older "best" hotels, Le Grand or Hotel de l'Amitie. But after Bamako I really depended on Sophie's suggestions for which were the best places to stay in each town.

Tounga Tours is run by an unflappable husband and wife team, Van and Ann, in Bamako. Obviously they know all the ins and outs of traveling around Mali. Ann was also kind enough to book me my plane ticket from Timbuktu back to Bamako, which was lucky since it sold out. And she booked the Hotel Salam for me, saving me hundreds of dollars. When it came to the trip itself, my first instinct was to just want to rent a jeep with a driver. Ann patiently explained how we really would need a guide to get the most out of the trip, and an English-speaking one at that. I was resistant but, luckily, I gave in to her good sense. And was she ever right! Our driver and guide were a great team and a pleasure to travel around with. They find their own places to stay and their own food and the whole shebang cost 200 Euros a day, which is very much worth it if you can afford it. We were able to travel in relative comfort and visit Ségou, Djenné, Mopti, spend several days in Dogon Country (the best part of the trip) and then make the iconic road trip to Timbuktu, from which we flew back to Bamako.

UPDATE: Pics

We listened to Ali Farka Toure and Ry Cooder the whole time. Here are some of our pictures set to their music:

"this year 195,000,000 children will suffer from malnutrition"

and so starts “Starved for Attention” the extremely well produced multimedia campaign by Doctors Without Borders/Médecins Sans Frontières (MSF) and VII Photo which exposes the neglected and largely invisible crisis of childhood malnutrition.

The campaign aims to present a series of multimedia documentaries of still photography and video from the well-known photojournalists at the VII Agency, such as Marcus Bleasdale, Jessica Dimmock, Ron Haviv, Antonin Kratochvil, Franco Pagetti, Stephanie Sinclair, and John Stanmeyer.

The first multimedia reportage is titled Frustration and is by Marcus Bleasdale, who narrates it out of Djibouti.

Bookmark this website, since the remaining reportages will be featured over the course of the coming months.

For more background on the project, JournalismNow features an interview with Ron Haviv, which touches on his work in Bangladesh for Starved For Attention.

The contdown continues over at GearJunkie.com where in celebration of five years of gear reveiws, Stephen is handing out his list of the best gear from the last five years.

Coming in at #6 on the list is Hydropel from Genesis Pharmaceuticals. Hydropel is a slick gel that you apply to your feet before a long hike to help prevent blisters. It repels water and will last the whole day no matter what you're activity. Gear Junkie says he uses it hiking, backpacking, climb, adventure racing, and even in marathons Sounds like it must be pretty good stuff, and a bargain at 13 bucks a tube.

Weatherpants from Rail Riders hold down the number five spot. These quick drying, and tough, outdoor pants are light weight, comfortable, and can still take a beating. Perfect for any type of outdoor activity and a good edition to anyones gear closet. I actually own a pair of these, and I can vouch for their reliablity.

Two more great gar items tomorrow!

Photograph © Kate Holt-All Rights Reserved
I'm severely pressed for time, so this post will unfortunately be short in prose but hopefully not in substance.

I just thought to showcase this magnificent photograph by Kate Holt of an Afghan woman holding a malnourished infant at a therapeutic feeding center in Kandahar.

Kate is a news and features photographer, covering events throughout Africa and Afghanistan.

PS. Being tall, I'm quite fond of environmental photographs of that type, which tell a story from "above". Many photojournalists/photographers seem to prefer frontal views for obvious reasons, but in this case where faces are covered, Kate's choice of vantage point is just perfect.

Here's a piece of ridiculous bling which ought to be filed in The Travel Photographer's WTF Department's compost heap, along with the Leica Hermes.

Found in this week's The New York Time's T-Magazine is a Yves Saint-Laurent travel adapter, which will cost $450 whoever is silly enough to buy it.

Mind you, the blurb tells us that fashion has come to the rescue of the stylish travelers who have had to use the "less-than-beautiful electrical doohickeys", especially since these come in cute fuchsia, black and violet leather bags.

A suggestion for the "stylish travelers": why don't you buy this doohickey from Kensington for $29 instead, and give the difference to a worthwhile charity? It does exactly the same thing and even looks the same. I realize it'll be tough without a colored leather case, but try all the same.

I have this Kensington adapter which I use everywhere I travel. Along with a locally-bought power strip, it's priceless. And if I need a pouch for it, I'll find one at the nearest Army Surplus store...it ain't gonna be in fuchsia though.

One of the highlights of traveling is always the folks you meet. My trip to Argentina was especially rich in this way and I was lucky that so many people in Argentina speak English and that my L.A. Spanish got me around otherwise. One of the people I was most impressed with is a remarkable woman named Amelia, a music business connection, who I went to dinner with when I first arrived. Our mutual friend Steve, k.d. lang's manager, had introduced us via e-mail. Amelia had been arrested during the time when the generals ran a fascist state in Argentina (the most recent, historically speaking)-- and she's a vegetarian; we got along great. Today she e-mailed me with a critique of a blog I wrote a couple weeks ago about safety in Buenos Aires.


ABOUT THE UNSAFE CITY

by Amelia Lafferriere


Think back to the ear of Menem, our Arab Muslim-converted-Christian-(for the sake of politics) president (1989-1999), who introduced Argentina to the quick fix policies of neoliberall economic politics with its systemic unemployment policies and de-industrialization. strong introducer(the first after the militars),and Supposedly a close friend and huntig companions of the Bush family, Menem followed the military dictatorship. His policies converted the country into a desert in terms of productive industry and real jobs-- which continued under De la Rua-- and created a deep chasm between rich and poor, nearly annihilating the middle class (a middle class which had been the pride of Argnetina, the only country in Latin America that had managed to maintain a strong and healthy middle class over the decades).


Buenos Aires, where, as you so correctly mention, half of the population live if we put together the Capital and Gran Buenos Aires, started its process of economic and then social degradation. Menem presided over recession, hyperinflation, privitiziation of ultilities and a tidal wave of foreign "investment." Menem's endemic corruption and his quick fix policies got him re-elected but they were catastrophic for the long-term financial and social health of Argentina, leading to bankruptcy and severe dislocation in every sphere of human endeavor. Parallel worlds began to take root-- a world of the rich and a world of everyone else.

Shopping centers and gated communities for the wealthy were sprouting up, here and there-- like gentrified Puerto Madero, funded by international capital... while social welfare was left to rot and whither away on the vine.

People of the suburbs, with no work and no future started to invade the city, sometimes taking empty old abandoned houses and turning to street robbery to get by. The result: growing unsafety and insecurity for the society. (Current policies about this issues are not helping, but that s another song.)

There are a lot of tourists coming all the time and sometimes they are very visible for these desperate people, making them obvious targets, not to say that locals do not suffer this unsafety as well, probably far more, in fact.

Regarding major crime-- like kidnapping and car theft sometimes leading to murder-- it is often that we find bands of ex-policemen working in combination with lumpen proletariat from the exurban villas (barrios), doing all this, most frequently in the suburbs. I'll call this a residual of last military government (what is called mano de obra desocupada, this meaning that these people were employed in kidnaping and robbing people for political reasons and when democracy came back, they had no "legitimate" work... so they changed their targets. We have been in "democracy" since 1983 but this situation continues today.)

What I can conclude is that Buenos Aires at this time has more insecurity and less safety than it had ten years ago. There are neighborhoods that are more exposed , especially those visited by tourists, although all neighborhoods throughout Buenos Aires suffer the situation, Fortunately we can say that so far the kinds of robbery prevelent in Buenos Aires is NOT followed by murder... most of the time. 

Anyway the climax of unsafety of Argentine society comes with the fact that we have a high profile political missing person for over 3 months. Mr Julio Lopez, a worker who had been kidnapped and tortured in the seventies, and who remained alive by chance, has given in the trial to one of his captors ,a miliray government sanctioned murderer named Etchecolaz. After his testimony-- on his way to hear the judge read Etchecolaz' sentence-- he vanished.  

Etchecolaz is now in prison, where he belonged many years ago, but Mr Lopez, a 78 years old man, seems to have suffered a kidnapping for the second time, and we all presume he is dead.

The very idea that this could happen now, is really frightening-- and although it does not affect everyday life on the surface, the way it used to in the seventies, for me is the most serious security and safety problem we have at this moment...

Like in all big cities, but starting in Buenos Aires in the '90s, drugs have become a terrible problem, mostly cheap and low quality drugs that are readily available in the impoverished suburban neighborhoods. That and the lack of opportunities for people are the keys to a developing culture of crime here.

Still, I like to think that the pulse of this city has to be taken in view of the continuous work in the cultural arenas. People are massively working in the fields of music, cinema, theatre, education... putting on festivals. Universities are still free in Argentina and the fact that two graduates have recently won Nobel prizes are a great source of inspiration for many people. Buenos Aires is a place where you find friendly peopl everywhere, where you can spend several hours in a cafe-- and for the price of a cup of coffee, you can read the newspapers of the day, or a book, talk with people who see conversation as a living art, people with open minds who make it possible to have so many different cultural expressions welcome all the time in the city. Still today Buenos Aires is a city with a pacific coexistance of different religions, as Jew (Argentina is the second country in numer of Jewish population after Israel and the U.S.) and Arabs and Muslims. We have often ecumenical ceremonies of all the religions together with Catholic and different Christian churches, together with the Jewish and the Muslim faiths. 

Could this be-- the remains of what Argentina was going to be and didn't come to be, but still a part of it.-- breathing... and helping us all breathe and hope.


UPDATE: A SLIGHTLY MORE POLITICAL LOOK AT THIS

I did a piece over at Down With Tyranny if you'd like to look at it from an even more political perspective.

The last time that I tried to come down here (78 Moh Guan Terrace #01-19, 6438-4547), I learned the hard way that they were closed on Mondays. Nonetheless, I had been wanting to check it out for a while now, as it was yet another spot from the folks behind the Market Grill and Keong Saik Snacks, all in a venue that interestingly did double duty as an old school bak chor mee shop in the daytime. At night, they serve yakitori.

And that's probably what threw me off. Yes, it was yakitori, but done up in a fancy manner. Witness those skewerless cuts of meat served on that slate above...they were definitely delicious and tender, but the traditionalist inside of me wishes that they served them to me on skewers in a more humble setting. It was almost as if Esquina were serving yakitori: it'd be very pretty and of very high quality, but would also be very high priced.

They didn't do a la carte here; it was basically just three sets starting at S$80 (US$63), which was a heck of a lot more than I had expected to pay when I had set out for this place. Sure, I could rack up just as high of a bill going to somewhere like Nanbantei or Aburiyatei, but I'd be emotionally more satisfied there. Well, at least this place featured some impressive cocktails from the bartender behind the Library, even if that just ended up shooting my bill through the roof even more.

Helen and Roland, hanging out in our 'hood

The Mexican state of Guanajuato isn't a string of neon-lit party towns on the beach, the kind of place that attracts most tourists. In fact, if slathering on the tanning oil all day and getting drunk, smoking pot and partying all night is your idea of a vacation, there are definitely better places than San Miguel de Allende and the towns in this part of Mexico tailor-made for you. This probably isn't the right blog to look for them though. In San Miguel there is no beach. And no neon. It's the living, beating heart of old colonial Mexico. It's landlocked, high in the mountains and smack in the center of the country.

San Miguel de Allende is one of several small cities that were once fabulously wealthy silver-mining towns-- thus the rich infrastructure, elaborate grand cathedrals, stately homes, etc-- and eventually fell on hard times as the silver was depleted. Now Guanajuato is one of Mexico's poorest states but these towns have bounced back to some extent because of their natural beauty and their appeal to tourists and retirees. Most of the retirees are Americans and most of the tourists are Mexicans. San Miguel is right out of the 17th Century-- cobblestone streets and buildings that look like a colonial Mexican film set. In fact, we've seen two films being shot since we got here.

April, May and June are the only months where the weather is hot, although it never really gets unbearable. It rains in the late afternoons in the summers. Otherwise the weather is perfect all the time-- no A/C or heat required. The town is 6,400 feet above sea level so it does take a little time to get used to.

We rented a gorgeous townhouse with 4 bedrooms, a huge, well-equipped kitchen/dining room, a living room, three and a half bathrooms, a rooftop patio with a breathtaking view of the whole city, and a lush, peaceful garden. The house comes with a housekeeper. I always prefer renting a home to staying in a hotel and it's something I've done in Goa, Bali, Buenos Aires, Phuket, and wherever I can when I go someplace for more than a week. The biggest attraction for me is that it helps me feel like I'm not just a here-today-gone-tomorrow tourist but actually living in the place. That's especially easy in San Miguel, which is completely set up for that kind of tourism. Another advantage is that it generally costs as much for a whole week in this kind of situation as it does for a night in the same calibre hotel. Some people prefer hotels for other reasons; I'm not one of them.

Another advantage is eating, and not just how much more economical it is. My concern with food is usually related to health concerns. Preparing food at home is almost always far more healthy than eating in restaurants-- especially in Mexico-- where eating out means deadly lard-based cooking or, in the high-end restaurants, overly rich meals that are just as deadly. After trying a couple of top-end restaurants-- La Capilla (the "best" restaurant in town, up on a rooftop attached to the main cathedral) and Casa de Sierra Nevada en el Parque-- I decided to eat at home as much as possible to avoid the overly rich and unhealthy food. Grocery shopping in the central market is convenient, easy as pie, pleasant and cheap. Most of the vegetables we eat in California come from Mexico anyway.

I did discover a wonderful vegetarian restaurant, El Tomato, on Mesones (between Relox and Hidalgo) run by Mariano Alvarez, a young expat chef from Buenos Aires. The food is organic, delicious and completely healthful. It's been open for 3 months and it's my idea of the best restaurant in town. It costs about a third of what the high end places that make you sick cost. There's an awesome juice bar around the corner on Relox that also sells some basic healthy eatin' supplies. Eventually I discovered an actual health food store-- organic fruits and vegetables and all-- Natura on Calle Nueva over near el Instituto Allende. And around the corner from that, on Zacateros, is another, even newer vegetarian restaurant but I've gone by 3 times and never found it open yet.

Almost 10% of the residents of San Miguel Allende are expats-- many of them retirees from the U.S. and Canada. Somehow it's still managed to keep its authenticity and charm-- probably because the type of Americans who are attracted to live in a place like this aren't looking for the kind of glitzy plastic glamour that enchant uptight Republicans. Its very artsy, with galleries everywhere in town-- as well as an internationally renowned art school (the aforementioned Instituto).

We lucked out because right after we decided to come here, the exchange rate changed in our favor-- gigantically. Last month a dollar bought you 10 pesos. Now it's 14 pesos. That makes everything incredibly inexpensive for us. The place is very relaxed, easygoing and friendly. Yesterday two of the friends I'm sharing the house with, Helen and Justin, spent the day horseback riding in the countryside. I spent the day wandering around town, reading and getting a great massage at the Laja Spa (about $45/hour). The central square in front of the cathedral is a beautiful tree-lined park with free wifi.


UPDATE: More Good Vegetarian Eats In San Miguel

Above I was complaining how the restaurant on Zacateros was closed all 3 times I tried to visit. Make that 4. But, there's good news too: just a couple blocks up Zacateros, behind an antique store called Casa Grau, is a gorgeous space with a vegetarian/health food type restaurant operated by another Argentine expat, El Bajofondo. I had lunch there and the food was as delicious as the patio garden dining was relaxing and beautiful; very inexpensive too! And speaking of vegetarians, my friend Pach just informed me that there's a wonderful new vegetarian blog that just started, Just Vegging Out by David, a Washington, DC labor lawyer with two chihuahuas.

The Crazy Kayaker is only a few weeks away from setting off on his "Mississippi Challenge 2007" which will see him kayaking the length of the Mississippi River. He'll embark on his 100 day journey in mid-May and hopes to be in New Orleans by the end of August.

CK is also known as Jacob van der Merwe and Jacob says that this adventure is a dream come true for him. The 2000 mile journey will begin in Minneapolis/St. Paul and continue to the mouth of the Mighty Mississippi in Louisiana. An epic journey to be sure.

You'll be able to follow all of his adventures in his blog and when it's all wrapped up, Jacob would like to write a book about the experience. Sounds like a great way to spend the Summer! :)

Thanks Backcountry Blog!

Just a quick note to let everyone know that I'm home, safe and sound, from Africa. I had a wonderful time and have a lot to share. I appreciate all the kind words and thoughts while I was away and I intend to crank things back up here soon once I get over the jetlag and climb out from all the work waiting for me.

Just so I don't keep everyone in suspense, I'll let everyone know right now that I did not summit on Kili, but not because I wasn't ready physically. My training was good, and I was strong on the mountain. I had the right gear and equipment, and the altitude had nearly no effect on me. So what kept me from reaching the summit? The altitude did have one effect on me that I hadn't thought of nor could have preapred for, and that was the complete lack of sleep while on the mountain.

The first night we camped at about 10,200 feet or so, and I was able to get about 1 1/2 to maybe 2 hours of sleep. This was following 28 hours of travel to Tanzania the days before and about four hours of sleep before we started the climb. As the days progressed, I got less and less sleep, generally only in the 1/2 hour per night area, and the day before summit day, I got none at all. The result, was that after five days of trekking the mountain, and probably a combined 7 or 8 hours of sleep over a week, I was literally exhausted when I reached basecamp the night before the summit attempt.

At that point, I made the decision to not go for the summit, as it was 6 to 7 hours up, plust another 2 to 3 back down, followed by a short rest, and another 4 hours further down after that. In the condition I was in, that didn't seem like a smart option to me at the time. While I was disappointed, I still feel like I made the right choice, as I feared that I would become even more exhausted should I push myself to the limit, and with a whole week of Safari ahead, I didn't want to end up sick or worse.

Fortunately, upon returning to lower altitudes, I began to sleep fine once more, and soon caught up on my sleep, but of course by then, my chances for the summit were gone and I had to settle for being satisfied with the wonderful trekking on the mountain, without the summit. Colm, my climbing partner from Ireland, did go for the summit, and was successful in his attempt. He said it was the hardest thing he had ever done, and this is coming from a person who runs three and a half hour marathons. He knew what kind of shape I was in due to my lack of sleep, and thought that I had made the right choice as well.

In the days ahead, I'll be blogging on the whole experience in more detail, offering my thoughts on the climb and the lessons I learned while on the mountain. The first lesson is an easy one though. Were I to do things over, I think I would have scheduled a free day between my travels and the start of the cliimb. It would have helped me to rest up a bit, and work on the jetlag some, before starting up Kilimanjaro. Looking back, that may have helped some, although it's unlikely it would have made a difference in my ability to sleep on the mountain. The only thing that would have helped would have been more acclimatization and possibly a slower route to the top.

Fortunately, I don't feel like I have "unfinished business" with Kili. The trekking was still wonderful, I had a great time, made several new friends, and still count the trip as a success, even without the summit. Hopefully in my future blog posts on the subject I can convey that, and more about the experience.

Finally, I'd like to thank Duma Explorer for such a great experience both on Kili and on Safari. They were very professional, well organized, and prepared us well for what to expect. If you're thinking of visiting Tanzania for a climb or safari of your own, I can't recommend them enough. Plus, they are a locally owned company, meaning that when you use them, you're not only employing Tanzanians, the money is actually staying in the country itself and not going back to the U.S. or U.K. Something to think about in todays competitive travel environment.

More soon...

Photo © Michael Nye-All Rights Reserved
I've briefly touched upon the issue of hunger in a POV a few days ago, and coincidentally found Michael Nye's compassionate work at the same time.

Michael Nye’s exhibition About Hunger & Resilience, consists of fifty portraits and accompanying audio stories of individuals who experienced hunger in the United States.

Michael Nye has been listening, photographing and recording hunger for the past 4.5 years. He lives in downtown San Antonio, and practiced law for 10 years before pursuing photography full time. He's the recipient of a Mid-America National Endowment for the Arts grant in photography, and a Kronkosky Foundation grant. He also participated in two Arts America tours in the Middle East and Asia, and has exhibited and lectured widely in museums and universities, including Morocco, India and Mexico.

"About Hunger & Resilience" opened at the Witte Museum,San Antonio, Texas in January of 2010 and is currently traveling around the United States.

If you'd like to see daily images and information on Ireland's incredible heritage sites please consider following us on Facebook, Twitter or Google+

Moyne Abbey was founded in 1460 by the powerful de Burgo family, on the orders of Mac William de Burgo. He had originally chosen to found a monastery near his home in Rappa near Crossmolina, however when he was out inspecting the planned location for the monastic site a dove flew low overhead. Mac William followed the dove which flew to the low lying site of Moyne, on the estuary that leads out to Killala Bay. Mac William took this to be an omen, as Moyne had once been the site of a great battle and chose this site to donate to the Franciscans to construct their friary.

 Moyne Abbey flourished and became a college or novitiate, a place where those aspiring to become friars could learn the order and way of life. It is thought that the community living at Moyne usually numbered over fifty lay monks, professors and friars. However, the peace and tranquillity was not to last.
 
In 1590, the Friary was burned by the notorious Sir Richard Bingham, the English Governor of Connacht appointed by Queen Elizabeth Ist. There are a number of tales about Bingham and his cruelty and excesses, he hated the powerful Burke (the ancestors of de Burgo) family and was envious of their vast estates. He began a campaign to destroy the Burkes and to claim their lands for the Queen for plantation. One story has it that he was enraged when a beautiful young woman named Mary Burke refused his advances, in retaliation he ordered that all the women bearing the name in the locality be hanged. Thirteen women were executed. Their bodies were thrown into a communal grave adjacent to the castle in an area known as ‘Poll na Marbh’ or ‘The Hollow of the Dead’, which is located within the grounds of the Ballinrobe Golf Club. 

 Bingham continued his relentless campaign in the region, but despite persecutions by Bingham and the burning in 1590, Moyne Abbey survived, and Friars continued to live, worship and work at Moyne. A historical account of 1606 tells of a Mr. Mooney visiting Moyne, where he encountered a widow who owned the friary and the lands surrounding it, however, she had let the church and some cells to a group of friars, whose rent was paid by a member of the de Burgo clan. Another story tells of a family that blew the roof off the friary with gunpowder and sold the bell of the friary for £700, an enormous sum in those days. It is possible that friars continued to reside in the friary until the end of the 18th century, when the friary began to fall into ruin. Today the remains are still incredibly well preserved and a fantastically atmospheric place to visit. 

In the cloisters

The majority of buildings are still standing at the site and the cloister walk where the monks would have walked in silent contemplation and prayer are amongst the finest surviving anywhere in Ireland. The well preserved aisled church stands on the southern side of the cloister. To the north of the cloister are the kitchen and refectory where a monk would have read out prayers while the friars were eating. On the eastern side of the cloister is the sacristy and chapter house where the friars would have met to discuss the day to day running of the community and important issues would have been discussed. Above the chapter house were the dormitories. Buildings that are in a very ruinous condition at the site include the mill, which still has water from a millrace flowing to it and the infirmary, which is where the sick would have been treated.

The remains of the mill

Moyne Abbey is a fantastic example of a medieval monastic site and is located in a wonderfully picturesque location. To get to the Friary, take the R314 from Ballina towards Killala. The site is off a minor road close to Killala on the right and is signposted. There is very limited parking at the site. Access to the site is through some private land so please close all gates behind you. 

If you have a suggestion for a site I’d love to hear it, please let us know by dropping us a line at info@abartaaudioguides.com or on Facebook, Twitter or Google+, where you can keep up with daily pictures and information about wonderful heritage sites in Ireland.
If you’d like to support us please consider downloading an audioguide from my website www.abartaaudioguides.com. They are designed to be fun and informative whether you are at the site or from the comfort of your own home, on the plane, driving your car or cooking the dinner – download a guide and let us whisk you away to ancient Ireland!

The 2013 fall climbing season in the Himalaya just seems to keep on going, despite the fact we keep wanting to declare it finished. Heavy snow across the region has made it a difficult year, particularly in the latter stages. But a few teams are still plugging away and holding out hope for late season summits.

Perhaps the most surprising expedition that is still on going is the Korean team's attempt to climb Lhotse. ExWeb is reporting today that the squad is still on the mountain and has launched their summit bid at last. The team moved up to Camp 3 today and are expected to go to C4 tomorrow with the push to the top to follow shortly thereafter. The report says that the Korean climbers attempted to shuttle gear to Camp 4 a few days back but were turned away by excessive snow. If that is the case, I would expect the upper slopes to be very difficult, making the way to the summit a real challenge. If all goes according to plan, it looks like they'll make the final push this weekend. Lets hope it is a safe climb up and back down.

ExWeb is also reporting news from several expeditions to smaller mountains in Nepal as well. A French team is attempting the 7031 meter (23,067 ft) Saipal in the western party of the country, while another French squad has wrapped up a new route on Gauri Shankar, a 7314 meter (23,996 ft) peak on the border of Tibet. British climbers Mick Fowler and Paul Ramsden were also able to make the first ascent of Kishtwar Kailash a few weeks back. You can read details of their ascent of that 6451 meter (21,164 ft) mountain by clicking here.

Finally, we're all still awaiting word from Chad Kellogg and David Gottlieb on their attempt to make a first ascent of Lunag-Ri. It has been ten days since we received the last dispatch and at that time the boys were prepping for a summit push that was to begin on October 25 and should have taken roughly 4-5 days to complete. Given that they expected quite a bit of snow up near the summit, it is possible they are still working the route or making their descent. Hopefully we'll get news from them soon. At 6895 meters (22,621 ft) it is the tallest unclimbed peak in Nepal. Chad and David aren't the only ones attempting the mountain this fall either. There was another team in BC that was a day or two ahead of them in acclimatization and launching their own summit bid.

That's it for now. Hopefully we'll hear more about these last few expeditions in the next day or two. It seems the season will truly wrap up in the next week or so.

Photo © Anamitra Chakladar-All Rights Reserved
Photo © Anamitra Chakladar-All Rights Reserved
Well, what is there to say except that I had a blast! The Foundry Photojournalism Workshop has ended with a marathon session to show the work completed by some 130-odd photographers who joined it. It was a visual overload of photographs and multimedia projects, and was followed by the customary beer bash at a nearby bar.

My Introduction To Multimedia class was attended by a cross-section of the nationalities represented at the Workshop, and I was extremely pleased to work with Brenda Bravo, Pierre Claquin, Yagmar Dolkun, David Hagerman, Pedro Gomes, Jeroen de Kluiver and Roubina Margossian. The class also benefited enormously from Anamitra Chakladar's expertise in audio editing and multimedia. He patiently fine tuned some of the class's audio tracks...thank you, Anamitra!! The class's output ranged from black & white documentary work to travel and cultural projects.

There's no other way to describe it, but the success of the Foundry Photojournalism Workshop -whilst based on the unstinting generosity of the instructors and its staff- is due to Eric Beecroft's vision, tenacity, enthusiasm and his being just Eric.

Next year? South America...perhaps Argentina, perhaps Brazil. Incha'allah.

The top photo was made during my presenting a couple of personal projects at the start of the Workshop, while the bottom photo was during a class with Yagmar and Brenda looking on.

The Denver Post posted an article on the evolving state of adventure racing with a nice look at how the sport is moving away from the longer expedition length races and more towards the shorter sprint, 24 hour, and weekend races.

The days of Eco-Challenge, Primal Quest, and The Raid seem to be behind us, and this has led many to believe that the sport is on life support. However, it is, in fact, thriving. There are more people taking part in races then ever before, they're just not participating in these gureling, 300+ mile long races, preferring to go after the shorter races instead. Many racers don't have the time to train, nor run, an expedition length race, which are also more gear intensive and physically demanding. But they can run spring races of 4-8 hours or move up to 12-24 hour races, and beyond to two day, weekend races.

I'm torn by the direction that the sport has moved. While I'm a big fan of AR, and have followed teams and athletes since Eco-Challenge first hit the air. The distinct lack of a "crown jewel" for the sport makes me a little sad. However, it is still encouraging to know that the sport is growing in popularity and that more and more people are taking part. It bodes well for the future of adventure racing, even if it may mean the end of the epic challenges of the expedition length races.

Thanks Check Point Zero.

Barafu Camp (4,550m) to Uhuru Peak (5,891m) to Mweka Camp (3,100m)

Let me start out this posting by once again apologizing for how long it's taken to get this up. It's been a combination of being very busy myself, and asking my climbing partner to write out some details on the climb up to the summit. Regular readers will know that I personally didn't go up to the summit, as the lack of sleep on the mountain finally caught up with me the day before summit day. I'm still waiting for Colm's thought on the summit, but I wanted to get some details down none the less. Once he's had a chance to send me his thoughts, I'll add them to this post.



Day 5, as most of you know, is summit day on Kilimanjaro via the Machame Route. You'll depart camp around mid-night or 1 AM as you head up to Uhuru Peak, the highest point in Africa. The climb up takes approximately six to seven hours, and nearly all of it is in darkness, so be sure you have a good headlamp and a fresh set of batteries. Keep extra batteries inside your jacket so they'll stay warm in case you need them.

The climb up is very steep, and slow, and can be quite slick with snow lining the upper portions of the mountain, at least until you reach Stella Point. From there, the terrain continues to rise, but is not nearly as steep, and it's the altitude that becomes the main concern. Once you reach Stella Point, its approximately 45 minutes or so until you get to Uhuru Peak, the Summit of Kilimanjaro and the Roof of Africa. If everything goes according to plan, you'll arrive right around sunrise.

After a brief period on the summit, you'll begin the slow descent back to Barafu Camp. It'll take about another 3 to 4 hours to descend, but it'll be in daylight so the views will have improved. Your legs will be exhausted however, so going over the slick rocks and snow can still be quite difficult and taxing. Once ou arrive back in Barafu, you'll take a short one to two hour rest, and have some breakfast before continuing down to Mweka Camp, the final destination for Summit Day no matter which route you took up the mountain.

The descent to Mweka Camp takes approximately another three to four hours, making the total length of Summit Day in the neighborhood of 12 - 14 hours total. Certainly a long day. The descent is once again over rock scree and can be rather steep in certain areas. You'll even have to scramble over some large rocks, which would typically be quite easy, but on tired legs, it can be quite challenging. However, as you head down, you'll make good time, and the air will begin to thicken again, making it easier to breathe. By the time you stop for the day, you'll have returned to the Cloud Forest climate zone. Mweka Camp is also quite lively, loud, and active, as it is the last camp for everyone on Kili no matter which route they take to the top.

Unfortunately for me, I never had the chance to experience the summit climb. When my partern Colm left for the summit at mid-night, I had already been in the tent, WIDE AWAKE, for about five hours. I continued to lay there until his return, and all told, I was in the tent for about 12 to 13 hours that night, without a wink of sleep. That made for a very long night, but also reaffirmed that I had probably made the right decision to not go up.

Upon his return, Colm told me that it was the hardest thing he had ever done, and this is coming from a man who runs a three and a half hour marathon. While he was chatting with me about the climb and descent, he fell asleep in the doorway of our tent, and stayed there until we had breakfast. He was literally exhausted, and the descent was going to be a challenge for him, as he had already had a long day.

For me, the descent to Mweka Camp wasn't too bad. My legs were rested, and aside from being tired from not sleeping, I was feeling pretty good. The loose rock scree didn't make the descent easy, but it was more about watching my footing than anything else. By the time we were done for the day, we were making camp at approximately 10,170 feet, and finally, at long last, I would sleep. Descending back to a more resonable altitude did wonders for me, and that night I got a good solid six or seven hours of rest. Believe me, I needed it.

The following day was our last on the mountain. The final descent to the park exit. I'll post my thoughts on that either tonight or tomorrow, with a few parting comments on the climb. Again, I apologize for taking so long to get this up, and I'll add Colm's thought when he gets a chance to share them.

Update: Colm, my climbing partner on Kili, sent me his thoughts on Summit Day and his climb from Barafu Camp up to Uhuru Peak. That's him in the picture by the way. What follows is his experience in his own words, and marks the first time I've had a guest blogger on The Adventure Blog. I can't think of a better person to turn over the reigns to. So, with out further ado, here is what Colm had to say:

"On the six day Machame climb, the ascent comes at the end of the toughest day of hiking so the evening of the ascent was when I felt the most tired.

After dinner, which was almost impossible to eat, I just ate dry pasta, you return to your tent to sleep but it was impossible. There was a raging wind, a thunderstorm underneath us and sleet and hail belting into the tent. It didn’t inspire confidence for the upcoming climb.

I also took some Diamox at this point which may not have been the best idea; hard as it was to sleep with the weather, it was impossible when you have to pee every 15 seconds.

The ascent starts about midnight. I started off with two thermals and two fleeces and felt pretty comfortable, not too cold. My plan was just to follow the foot steps of my guide and not look around, this was probably a good idea as the next morning on the descent there was definitely some steep falls which I hadn’t noticed the previous night. From about midnight to 2am , I felt pretty good, I don’t think we even had a break. Weather was fine, not windy and everything was going well. It was steep but you just can’t see anything except the odd other headlight so all I focused on was the feet of my guide. I definitely started to feel bad about 3 am. It also got windy and cold at this point. I managed to take in an energy gel, it was hard to keep down but it definitely helped and the hike from 3 to 5 went ok, not easy and you really just focus on the feet in the light of your headlamp I also remember Zawadi , my guide, was polite enough to ask if it was ok to smoke whenever we had a break which was quite funny.

I don’t even recall reaching Stella point or Gilmans Point. My guide didn’t even acknowledge these points, he just kept forcing the pace. My guide was a great guy but he was tough and didn’t allow any chance for hesitation or doubt. The summit was the priority and by God, he was getting up there.

The last hour is over the ice and snow. Obviously it gets colder and gets quite slippery. I remember feeling just so exhausted but just kept going. The last 45 minutes got even harder as you had to focus on not slipping and not breaking your ass in the process.

We eventually reached the peak at 6.10am or so, I think we were the third group to reach the peak that morning. The sun was starting to rise and it really was amazingly beautiful, the colours were amazing but I have to admit it is hard to fully process everything as you are just so tired.

A you descend, I really noticed how slippery it was, I had to follow the footsteps of my guide in Indian file. You can see the ghosts of other climbers coming towards you from all routes and you do see some people in pretty bad shape.

The descent to Barafu camp is a bit nuts really, it is just this steep path of scree and you almost have to run down. It was at this point I got some AMS, I lost all co-ordination in my legs and despite feeling not too bad, I just couldn’t keep my legs moving in a co-ordinated way and kept falling over. I was like Bambi trying to ice skate. My guide had to take me under the arm so we looked like two newly weds going down the aisle as we descended. As I got lower, things did get a bit better and I was able to descent the last hour to camp without help.

As I passed out with half my body outside the tent I remember telling Kraig, something along the lines that a lot of people who do Killi do not realize the difficulty involved. I didn’t sleep very well during the climb which didn’t help and I am a reasonably strong marathon runner but Killi was definitely harder than expected.

I did a short trek in Ladakh recently but this was my first real climbing experience and as the memories of how hard Killi was begin to fade, I am already thinking of the next climb….

I would also like to acknowledge how lucky I was with my climbing partner, a great guy with huge patience. I don’t know if it was just me but altitude caused me to break wind every 10 seconds and pee at least 5 times a night which can not have been easy for my tent partner and definitely didn’t help sleep."

A huge thanks goes out to Colm for taking the time to write this up and give us his thoughts on the climb. And I can honestly say that I couldn't ask for a better person to share the experience with as well. Colm and I shared a similar sense of humor and we got along great pretty much from the moment we met. Colm, if you need someone to share the tent with you on another mountain, I'm happy to be there. I'll even bring a bigger beaker. ;)