For anyone who is intersted, I've posted a web gallery of my safari pictures from my recent adventure abroad. Some of the images are amazing, and I'm very proud of them, and others are good, but not as great as I would like. Still, I thought that I'd share. You can find them by clicking here!

For those waiting for posts on the trip, never fear. I haven't forgotten, I'm just still getting my feet back under me, and working on digging out. With any luck, I'll post my thoughts on the first day of the Kili climb over the weekend, and we'll get started from there. My hope is to offer some personal insight into the climb and the safari as well, and talk about the experience, and some lessons I learned along the way. So, stay tuned, and for now I hope you enjoy the safari pics!

When I was first told about this place, I didn't figure it to be on a high priority of places to go to, especially when I had just come back from Boston last week anyway. Still, it was nearby tonight, and I figured that I'd go check it out. I wasn't getting my hopes up, especially given the industrial area that it was located in (824 Cowan Road, 650-443-1543).

So it was to my surprise to find upon arrival that it was at least two or three times larger than I thought it would be. It was brightly lit, and pretty much full of customers despite being near closing time on a Tuesday night too. I guess that I was expecting something more like that James Hook trailer in Boston, focusing more on selling shellfish rather than serving it.

They had big tanks of lobsters brought in from the east coast, but I focused on the local dungeness crab instead. And yes, I liked my crab melt above, especially on that sourdough bread. Next time I should remember to just get a half sandwich with a soup, and then going to the market side of the venue to grab some bivalves on the half shell.

I've probably thought about this more than most. Starting back when I was 13-- and attempting to hitchhike down to Miami Beach to visit my grandparents for Easter (they called it Pessach)-- I've been taking to the road alone. A few years after that, I hitched from New York to California to stow away on a boat so I could go live on Tonga. (I never made it past L.A.'s San Pedro harbor.) And then a few years later I drove to India by myself, spending around 2 years traveling through Turkey, Iran, Afghanistan, Pakistan, India, Sri Lanka and Nepal.

First off, you're never really alone that much. I mean when you're hitching, there's a driver and he's picking you up because he wants to talk to someone. And when I was driving through Europe and Asia I always had a crew of people to help me pay for gas and all. And, best of all, traveling alone more or less forces you to meet people, one of the greatest joys of travel.

More recently I've done a lot of more conventional traveling with friends like Roland or Craig. In 2005 I rented a villa on Bali and invited 3 of my friends, Rebecca, Brad and Craig to join me. And last month Roland and I went to Spain and Morocco. Roland is a great travel buddy and travel is probably the bondingest thing between us. We've been all over the world together: London, Paris, Rome, of course, as well as more off the beaten tracks kind of destinations like Calcutta, Kandy, Chiang Mai, Abu Simbel, Cappadocia, Corleone (on Sicily), the Mekong Delta... and, all over Morocco, not just Tangier and Marrakech, but to places like Sidi Ifni, Tiznit, Taroudant, Zagora and on into the Sahara (by camel). The traveling alone thing came up when I saw him off after almost 3 weeks at the Essaouira bus station. He was headed for Casablanca, London and his job back in L.A. and I had a few days on my own.

The first time I was in Morocco was 1969 and I went with my girlfriend Martha. We had been in college together and each of us was very much a full-fledged individual. Each could say or do whatever we wanted without the other feeling that he or she was being defined. Suddenly when we were on the road I was not an individual but one half of an entity called "Howie + Martha." Oh, did I not like that! I had graduated and she had another year left. I drove her up to England; we went to the Isle of Wight Festival, heard Dylan sing "I Threw It All Away" (which I was very conscious-- in a fatalistic and melancholy way-- I was doing) and then she flew home and I drove to India, no longer a fraction of anything.

Back to Roland. I'm sure I'll never find a better travel companion. He loves adventure, is practically fearless, likes poking around off any beaten path, eats foods not many red-blooded Americans would ever consider (sober)... all that kind of stuff. After his bus took off in Essaouira-- a city I've loved since I was there at the same time as Jimi Hendrix in '69-- I started walking back to my hotel and thought, "well, now I'm alone. Is that good?" It sure was!

Even when you travel with the greatest traveling companion (like Roland), you always have to make all these little compromises. He hates the sun, for example. I love the sun. But if a mediocre restaurant is closer (less sun) and an awesome restaurant is further, meaning walking in the sun, he always wants to eat in the mediocre one. Laugh... but that happened in Essaouira. We both love Chez Sam's, certainly long the best restaurant in town, way at the end of the docks, as picturesque as you'll get and delicious food. But just a little bit closer is a restaurant that is not mediocre in fact but excruciating-- Le Coquillage. It exists only to service the one-day bus trippers who come to poke around Essaouira from Marrakech or, worse, Agadir. The service is abysmal and the food is... well, like food anywhere if no one is worried about repeat customers. But it meant less walking in the sun. (The third seafood restaurant on the beach, the Chalet de la Plage, also a fave of both of us, was already closed but that one is almost as good as Chez Sam-- and highly recommended, although not for lunch when the bus tours are around.) Anyway, pardon the tangent. The point was that sometimes you just don't feel like compromising all the time, or even taking someone else into consideration. And since Roland dislikes people almost as much as he dislikes the sun... and yours truly LOVES meeting people on the road...

So, anyway, he's gone and the first thing I do is go right to the hotel I always used to stay at, Hotel des Iles. (We had decided to stay someplace else this time and I found what looked like a charming place on the internet, a "riad" called Lalla Mira, which claims to be a kind of health-food hotel. It tuned out to be a pretty gross tenement kind of joint and I moved out the next morning, to the sterile luxurious Sofitel Thalassa Mogador, the kind of character-deficient place I usually avoid. But, after a night at the Lalla Mira I wanted something clean and comfy and a little upscale and Mohammed behind the desk made me a GREAT deal-- really great-- whereas the even fancier hotel in town, the Heure Bleue Palais, was inordinately expensive and unwilling to offer a discount.) The reason I walked over to the Hotel des Iles was because Roland and I hadn't been able to find an old friend of mine who had a shop. The problem was that there had been only one street with shops in that part of town 10 years ago and now there were a dozen. Street after street had been turned into pretty identical shopping streets. Roland usually remembers how to find things but he had noreal interest in helping me find my friend anyway. But once he was gone, I just decided to retrace my steps-- from 10 years previous-- starting at the door of the Hotel des Iles. I turned off my brain and let my feet take me there. It worked. He has two kids now and lots of ideas as usual-- from an olive and argun oil museum to a line of handmade Berber handbags for women. Fun to see him again and catch up a little. And once I found his shop I was able to orient myself and find all the places I always liked most in Essaouira. More about that anon.

Photo © Asim Rafiqui -All Rights Reserved
A few weeks ago, I had just returned from my Tribes of South Rajasthan & Kutch Photo~Expedition™, and felt that I hadn't done enough in terms of street photography in the Kutch area of Gujarat.

I, rather ludicrously, expected to photograph non-stop in its small villages that had seen few (if any) foreign tourists and when that didn't happen, I had to content myself with a some frames here and there. Back in New York City, and still cursing my bad luck, I chanced on a post by Asim Rafiqui, in which he describes his street photography in Lucknow as follows:

"And in the rare moments when something close to a photograph does appear I keep ruining it with poor timing, inappropriate angles or by being club footed and lumbering towards it so slowly that the moment is gone. Yesterday I had waited nearly 3 hours for a frame, arousing suspicions among the many shopkeepers who had patiently tolerated me and my cameras on the corner of their street, and then missed it when it seemed to come together!"

Three hours for a frame! And Asim is one of the better photographers I have come across. So I swallowed my curses, and realized that this is what it takes...this is reality...and street photography and paparazzi-style travel photography are miles apart.

Because of such gems, I am a frequent follower of Asim Rafiqui's The Idea of India project. An extraordinarily erudite, both intellectually and visually, blog in which he examines traditions of social and religious sharing which still exist in India, reports on shared sacred sites like major Sufi dargahs where Hindus and Muslims co-pray and on religious festivals which evolved past their sectarian sources and welcome participants of all beliefs and faiths. A veritable cornucopia for those of us who are eager for deeper understanding of the roots of current events.

The latest blog entry is titled The Kerala Journeys. This is what street photography is all about.

When I arrived in India for the first time, in 1969, I immediately gave up my dependence on drugs. I've been-- excuse the expression-- "clean" ever since. The trip to India, through India and back to Europe from India took a little over 2 years. I saw a lot and I missed a lot. I've been back to India 3 times since, most recently just over a week ago. My trip was actually to Thailand and Myanmar and I was just stopping in New Delhi for about 10 days before and after. I had no business, no appointments, no agenda, no pressure. So I went out of my way to really spend some quality time at the best sites in Delhi, sites I had seen in the past but never really immersed myself in.

I spent a whole day at Lal Qila (the Red Fort), for example, a place I probably gave an hour to previously. And I'd go spend another day there without a second thought. I also spent some time at Old Delhi's other stunning-- equally stunning-- tourist attraction: Jama Masjid, India's largest mosque. The Moghul Emporer Shah Jahan started it in 1650 and the red sandstone and marble house of worship-- not far from his palace-- look six years to complete. It's truly awe-inspiring and I guess that was the point. We sure don't build 'em like that any more!

I had heard about a Sufi poet and saint, Hazrat Sarmad being buried in a tomb at the Jama Masjid. He was actually a Jewish Armenian from Persia who converted to Islam-- perhaps to Christianity for a spell before that-- and became a peerless Sufi mystic of great renown in his day (1590-1661). Somewhere along the way he fell head over heels in love (ishq) with a young Hindu boy, Abhai Chand-- so head over heels, in fact, that he renounced all worldly possessions-- including his clothes-- and became a naked fakir. This (nudity) wasn't that weird in India but the Moghuls weren't into it and Sarmad was pals with Dara Shikoh, the heir to Shah Jahan's throne. That didn't work out and when Aurangzeb staged a coup and took over the joint it was hard times for Dara Shikoh's friends. He had Sarmad beheaded for blasphemy (although historians have always sensed some politics in the mix).

I decided to go visit and pay my respects. I didn't have my camera so the picture above is of me in front of an entirely different tomb, Humayun's, which is in New Delhi, not even Old Delhi, although it's just as old. I stopped there on my way to another tomb the Hazrat Nizamuddin Darga, which is very much a lively scene in an living medieval community and in front of which-- and the reason I went-- qawwali singers do their thing in the evenings. I love that music and the video below in front of the darga should give you an idea of what it's like. Anyway, back to Samad; I never did get to take any photos and it was very difficult to find, since everyone claims to know where everything is, even if they don't. And even when I found it... well, how do you know he's really in there anyway? And if he is, is his head?




UPDATE: NY TIMES DOES DELHI IN 36 HOURS

Don't try it... but there are some useful tips... about art galleries and sitar shopping. They agree with me that Swagath, though not in the center of town, is worth the trip for a delicious south Indian (especially otherwise unavailable Mangalorean) seafood meal.

OK that was a lot better than the first time I ate at these guys. Maybe it was just because my expectations were much lower this time, but I gobbled this thing up in seconds, wishing in fact that they had a larger portion. I'd actually come back to this place now.

We came down here for dinner tonight, in part simply because it was nearby, but also since I was kinda curious to see what this "Test Kitchen" offshoot of Legal Sea Foods was like (225 Northern Avenue, 617-330-7430). See, in contrast to the more traditional approach that Legal is known for, this place seemed to have been created to give them the liberty to interpret seafood a bit differently, like that Angry Lobster above. In the same spirit as the Angry Whopper from Burger King, this lobster was done up with red chili pepper flakes. It wasn't really that spicy, but I still ate it all, including the tasty rice underneath.

For some reason, I felt like indulging a bit for lunch today. Lolla came to mind, but I only made it halfway there, coming instead to this place (60 Tras Street #01-01, 6438-2608), a place that I'd been eyeing for a while now but kept getting deterred by its sky high prices. Still, I figured that I'd invoke my favorite tactic when it came to fine dining places that were too expensive to eat at: eating off of the lunch menu instead, which would be both cheaper and faster than a full-on dinner service.

Well, that's all relative of course. This bara chirashi was the cheapest item on the lunch menu, and it was still a whopping S$50 (US$39). But everything was of course of very high quality, including not just the delicate cuts of tamago that he tossed in here, but even the little amuse-bouches that preceded it. Now, this was definitely too expensive to eat regularly. But this little counter shop admittedly was rather fun, reminding me a bit of places like Sasa or Mizutani. Hopefully someone else can pay next time!

I haven't posted one of these in awhile, but ThePoles.com has an arctic update for us today with all kinds of news about teams reaching the North Pole.

First we have word that Jennifer Murray and Colin Bodill of the Polar First Team reached the North Pole on Friday evening. The two helicopter pilots are attempting to set a World's Record by flying around the globe via the North and South Poles.

Those taking a more traditional route to the Pole include Adrian Hayes who at last report was at 89.27.9 degrees N, 63 W, which means he should arrive very shortly. Rosie Sancer has had a supply drop, and she continues on her solo expedition to the northern most point on Earth, while Alain and Dixie are making slow, but sure progress as well, despite some nasty weather. You'll recall that they're the team who are traveling from Sibera to Greenland by skis, via the North Pole.

Meanwhile, famed polar explorer Borge Ousland and his Last Degree Team lived up to their name, reacing the Pole yesterday. Congratulations guys! Nice work!

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+

If you sail twelve kilometres (eight miles) into the Atlantic Ocean off the coast of Kerry you can see one of the most remarkable heritage sites in the world – the monastery of Skellig Michael. The site is one of only two of Ireland’s World Heritage Sites (the other is Newgrange), and it is possibly the most rewarding, remarkable, beautiful and atmospheric heritage site in Ireland.
 
Skellig Michael or Sceilig Mhichíl meaning The Steep Rock of Michael appears like a craggy pyramid standing proud of the ocean. It is formed of the same 400 million year old Old Devonian Sandstone that runs all the way to the MacGillycuddy's Reeks. Perched on top of this craggy island is an early medieval monastery, that legend says was founded by St Fionán in the sixth century.



Going into exile for the love of God (‘peregrinatio pro Dei amore’), has conceptual roots in the belief that greater understanding of God can be achieved by withdrawing from civilization into harsh and isolated regions. In the wonderful RTE Radio Documentary Skelligs Calling, archaeologist Michael Gibbons speaks very eloquently about the possible motivations behind the monks decision to leave the comparative safety and comforts of the mainland to travel to a place of danger and hardship. In these early days of western Christianity, God and the Devil were very real, so for the monks these islands on the edge of the known world, like Skellig Michael, are the places you are likely to encounter the devil to drive him back through prayer before he reached the mainland to corrupt the people and drive them to sin. These islands acted as the equivalent of radar stations or early warning positions, surrounding and protecting the newly Christian Ireland from the depredations of the Devil. 

Life in a community like Skellig Michael must have been contemplative rather than active. Once the building work had been completed there was relatively little for the monks to do – catching seabirds and gathering eggs, fishing, perhaps even hunting seals, maybe a small amount of gardening, there is no firewood or turf on the island, perhaps they had to gather driftwood – so most of their day must have been given to prayer. Though with all the seabirds, eggs, fish and even seals on hand they must have been comparatively well fed compared to some other monastic hermitages.

The monastery is reached by a series of steep stone steps carrying you up 160m to the site. A large stone wall protected the monastery, within which you can find six circular corbelled drystone cells known as clocháins, these are dark inside with little natural light, but they are surprisingly dry and spacious – the largest being around 5m (16 feet) in diameter and 5m (16 feet) high. There are also two corbelled rectangular oratories (small chapels) similar in style to Gallarus Oratory and a later church dedicated to St. Michael. This church is the only one on the island to have been constructed using mortar, this was sampled and returned a radiocarbon date of AD 690–880. 

A number of small outdoor altars in the complex suggest that prayer may have involved a processional aspect, the largest of these altar type structures is known as ‘the Monk’s Graveyard’, it is unknown how many of the monks are actually buried at this spot, but there are around 20 grave slabs, including one with markings that may indicate it is a sundial.

The 'Monk's Graveyard', notice the marks on the graveslab in the foreground, could it be a rudimentary sundail?

There is another small hermitage just below the south peak at the highest point of the island, however I’m afraid we did not chance visiting it, as it is a dangerous place to reach so please do not attempt it unless you are with a suitably qualified and experienced guide with safety equipment.

Plundered by the Vikings twice in the ninth century, it was recorded that Etgal of Skellig Michael was carried off by the Vikings in 824 and died soon after of hunger and thirst. The monastery on Skellig Michael was abandoned in the tenth or eleventh century for a new monastery on the mainland at Ballinaskelligs.

On the return trip from Skellig Michael the boat brings you to Little Skellig, home to tens of thousands of gannets, who wheel and soar around the craggy island, coating it in thick layers of their guano. At the base of Little Skellig intrepid divers may find cannons from an eighteenth century shipwreck, locally known as The Lady Nelson, there are a number of stories about the ship, such as that the ship had a cargo of wine coming from Portugal, and an argument erupted between the ships captain and first mate who had been having an affair with the captains wife, in the heat of the row neither captain nor mate paid attention to the ships course and it struck the Small Skelligs and sank. 

Little Skellig (foreground) with Skellig Michael (background), note all the gannets swirling round the island

Getting There

We took a boat from Portmagee though there are a number of people that can take you out from Ballinskelligs or Valentia too, the journey will cost around €45 per person. (there is no charge on the island) I recommend you bring waterproofs for the boat journey as you can get a decent drenching! The boat takes around 45mins to reach the island and you generally have about two hours on the island itself. The season begins in May and ends in September see http://www.heritageireland.com/en/skelligmichael/ for details of when the OPW Guides are present. I’ve been told that June is the best time of year to go as all the Puffins and seabirds are there, they all migrate by the end of August so we only saw gulls and gannets (and three very camera shy seals on Little Skellig)

Safety Warning!

 
















The trip is extremely weather dependent, and a visit is only suitable in calm weather. We were very fortunate with calm dry conditions but I wouldn’t be keen on attempting the steps if they were wet and slippy or in strong gusty winds. The steps themselves can be daunting and unfortunately serious injuries and fatalities have happened on the island, in the perfectly calm day we had there were still one or two places that were a little freaky, so take your time and wear comfortable but sturdy boots. Never walk off the stairs or path as you can dislodge the loose stones that may injure someone below you.

I would not recommend this site for children below the age of around 15, and given the steepness of the steps it requires a reasonable level of fitness and a decent head for heights.

There are no toilet facilities on the island and no rubbish bins. It is a very vulnerable site so please be careful not to disturb any of the structures or flora or fauna.

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 Ireland's wonderful heritage sites.

If you'd like to support us please consider downloading one of our audioguides from www.abartaaudioguides.com, they are packed with great facts, information, stories and legends from Ireland's iconic sites. They are designed to be fun and informative whether you are visiting the sites or from the comfort of your own home, so if you are looking to escape to the Court of Brian Boru the next time you are doing household chores download one of our guides and let us whisk you off to ancient Ireland!

I usually like to travel to places with interesting and developed cultures. Places like India and Egypt, not to mention France and Italy, have drawn me ever since I was a kid. And my travels have always been in this direction. I've lost count of the number of times I've been to Istanbul, Morocco, Paris, Bangkok... I picked Tierra del Fuego as a destination for a very different reason. I guess I was looking for a complete dearth of culture. I was craving emptiness and desolation. The end of the world. And that's what they call this place... El Fin del Mundo. Next stop: Antarctica. It was settled by Argentina only 100 years ago-- a desolate and barren place, as a penal colony for the worst, die-hard criminals. I just wanted to unwind after the 2006 midterm elections.

It's summer now but it's mostly chilly and rainy. The sun goes down at 11:30 at night and rises around 3 AM. In the winter it's pretty much dark all the time and covered in snow. In the last 10 years, as the Argentine government has encouraged the development of the thriving tourist industry, the population of the town has doubled to 35,000.

Around a third of the tourists who come here-- 50% at the upscale hotels-- are just stopping for a day or two on the way to Antarctica. There are 600 dockings a year (obviously just in the summer season), mostly Chilean and Russian ships. 95% of the tourists are foreigners, mostly Europeans. It's too expensive for Argentines who would rather go to Europe or Miami for the same money. The average guests at Las Hayas stay for 2 nights (which means many stay for one night). I'm, as usual, an anomoly: I'm here for a week. The manager asked me why.

I'm here for the solitude, the stark beauty, the remoteness. It's what I thought it would be, albeit uber-exploitive. The town exists for tourists and everything is very expensive, above and beyond the fact that everything has to be air freighted in. Yesterday I took a ride on the old prisoners' train, the train of the end of the world. The prisoners built it into the forest so they could cut down trees to build the place and to use the wood for fuel. The train ride, into the spectacular Tierra Del Fuego Andes National Park, is one of the many tourist attractions. The train ride is kind of rinky-dink but it's actually worth the time because when the train dumps you out there's an alternative to having a car pick you up and take you home. You can trek. That's what I did. I figured I'd race off the train and beat the masses of tourists walking the pristine forest paths. I won the race-- by default. No one else was walking down any forest paths. The train emptied out and everyone piled into cars and buses and drove back to Ushuaia. I was very, very alone very, very fast. The train ride gets a B; the rest of the afternoon an A. When I get back home I'll insert some photos I took, mostly of the snow-capped Andes and of beautiful fjords.

By the way, there is also a newly developing winter season here-- which is when some Argentines do come to Ushuaia-- and that's all about skiing. In what they call summer, people kyak and canoe and golf and horseback ride and trek and even go camping. There are lots of boat trips. If it isn't raining tomorrow I'm going to go for a boat trip to the one island in the Beagle Channel that has penguins. Might as well, right? If you like outdoor activities and have lots of energy, this place is a paradise. Otherwise... well, you better be happy with solitude and silence.

Most of Ushuaia's streets are paved. The town basically has a main street, San Martin. One down is the street that fronts the harbor, Maipú. The rest of the streets parallel to San Martin are a pretty steep climb up. It's not something you'll want to do every day. It's steeper than San Francisco streets. One night I had dinner at Kaupé, purportedly the best restaurant in town. I had to climb 4 blocks from San Martin. It was... exhilerating. And the food was excellent, if over-priced and simple. The Chilean sea bass (they hate Chile so they call it something else) was the best I ever tasted. Vegetables are relatively rare here. The culinary features of Ushuaia are king crab, made every way imaginable, and black hake. The portions are huge and the fish is incredibly fresh. It's far from inexpensive, probably another reason Argentines don't come here. And the restaurants are far from sophisticated in their preparartions, the way they are in Buenos Aires. I remember when I first went to Las Vegas the restaurants were abysmal beyond belief. Now Las Vegas actually has a first rate restaurant scene. Maybe Ushuaia will some day too, though I wouldn't hold my breath.



A FEW WORDS ABOUT THE CHOW

It's hard to find a bad meal in Italy. But if you really want to, just go to Venice. The food scene is wretched. Venitian cuisine, of course, is completely fantastic. But Venice has sacrificed itself on the alter of lowest common denominator mass tourism. The restaurants are positively ghastly-- feeding stations for hordes of tourists, not any different from mass tourism traps anywhere in the world. Most tourists in Ushuaia eat in pretty dismal all-you-can-eat buffets. They're cheap and I suppose for some people the quantity is a good tradeoff for the quality. Afterall, we are in Argentina and the quality of the food is never really that bad anyway.

But with the exception of Kaupé and the Las Hayas dining room there was nothing I found worthy of writing home about (although modest La Casa de Mariscos is decent enough too, especially for all their wonderful crab meat dishes). Eventually I discovered a truly incredible place to eat in Venice-- the Cipriani Hotel's restaurants are absolutely sublime, as good as anything anywhere in Italy (even the snack bar serves only amazing meals). Well, good news if you're heading to Ushuaia: they have one of those too!

No, not a branch of the Cipriani; a restaurant that is remarkable for its impeccable standards: Chez Manu. About 7 or 8 years ago Las Hayas brought chef Emanuelle Hebert over from France to head their kitchen. The relationship didn't last long and Emanuelle opened his own restaurant about a kilometer up the hill. Forget that it commands the absolute best views in all of Ushuaia (no mean feat). The food is superb. Hebert is a chef who isn't just feeding some tourist horde he will never see again. He's competing for a position as one of the great chefs. Every dish is an artistic achievement. The other restaurants in town may have a decent cook here and there. Hebert is a chef, the real deal. It's not substantially more expensive than all the other places in town; they're all expensive. At least at Chez Manu the value is unquestionable.

 Moore Hall is located in a beautiful spot on the shore of Lough Carra in Co. Mayo. The house was constructed between 1792 and 1796 by George Moore. He was a very successful wine merchant and entrepreneur, his main business was based in Alicante in Spain where he traded in wine and brandy. He was also involved in the export of seaweed from Galway as it was used to make iodine. Unusually at that time for such a wealthy and powerful man, George Moore was a Roman Catholic. His family originally came from Ashbrook near Straide in Co. Mayo, but George wanted a house to reflect his vast fortune so he commissioned the architect John Roberts, to construct a house suitable for a man of his means. 

Legend has it that George was warned by the locals not to construct his new house at the site on the shore of Lough Carra. Way back in the 5th century AD, the King of Connacht was said to have been murdered by his enemies, the kings’ druid fled after the murder, fearing for his own life, but was hunted down and he himself was murdered close to where Moore Hall stands today. The ill luck of the druid and King were said to linger in the area and infect the lives of those who chose to live there.

George Moore lived at the Moore Hall from the time of its construction until his death in 1799. Bad luck did befall him and his family when his son John took part in the ill fated 1798 Rebellion. John was even declared the ‘President of the Connaught Republic’ before he was arrested and sentenced to transportation. John died in Waterford, en-route and a month later his father died. John’s body was exhumed in 1961 and transferred from Waterford to The Mall, Castlebar where he was reburied with full military honours.  

George Henry Moore (who was landlord of the large estate) was renowned for his kindness during the Great Famine. He was a keen horse racing enthusiast, and during the height of the Famine in 1846 he entered his horse Coranna in the Chester Gold Cup and won the huge sum at the time of £17,000. He used that money to give every one of his tenants a cow. He also imported thousands of tonnes of grain to feed the locality. Not one person was evicted or starved on George Moore's estates during the Famine. George was also a politician and an MP for County Mayo. He, along with some other family members, are buried at Kiltoom, which is a small family graveyard about 30 metres from the modern day carpark at Moore Hall.

George Henry’s son was the famous writer George Augustus Moore. He played a pivotal role in the Irish literary revival and was one of the founders of the Abbey Theatre and the Gaelic League.
 
The last of the Moores to live at this great house was Maurice Moore. He fought with the Connaught Rangers in the Boer War and became deeply involved with human rights issues. One of the key issues he petitioned for was the return of Irish prisoners serving sentences in English jails following the War of Independence. Moore was elected envoy to South Africa by the first Dàil and served as a Senator under Cosgrave and de Valera. Despite his tireless work for Irish independence, Moore Hall was burned down by anti-treaty forces during the Irish Civil War in January 1923.
 
Today Moore Hall is owned by the forestry company Coillte and is a wonderful and atmospheric spot to enjoy a walk and a picnic. Moore Hall is located around 11km north of Ballinrobe. Leaving Ballinrobe, take the L1067, this will take you to Ballygarris cross.  Turn left at this point and you will be on the road for Carnacon. Follow the road to the right, and after crossing Annie’s bridge, take the next left turn at Lough Carra lake.  This will take you to the car park at Moorehall. There is a marked trail through the woods which is approximately 3kms long.

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

Ok, let me preface what I'm about to say with a huge disclaimer that this is just a big fat rumor that I've had a little birdy whisper in my ear. I have no idea if it's true or false, it's just a rumor. However, I've had someone mention to me that the big Primal Quest announcement that is said to be coming "soon" will be that the race will return in 2008 (Duh! Kind of late for 2007!) and that the location of the race may be Argentina. Furthermore, there are rumors of a shake-up of the leadership of the race, which will probably have an impact on how and where it's run.

Interesting stuff if true. I'd love to see a big race run in Patagonia, one of the most amazing, and remote, places on Earth. Up until now, all PQ's have been held in the United States, so that would certainly make for a departure from that tradition. As I said earlier, this is just a rumor however, so we'll see what happens when an actual announcement is made.

Update: Yak at Check Point Zero has updated his blog entry on this subject and it's not positive. His sources, which I'm sure are far better placed than mine, say that the Primal Quest announcement that was to come next week has fallen through, and we're back in the "holding pattern". Hopefully something will break soon on this subject. All fans of adventure racing would love to see this issue resolved. Updates as they come.

The Gear Junkie took a little break to do some climbing on Mt. Shasta last week and he's written up a nice trip report for the rest of us stuck in our offices.

It wasn't all fun and games on Mt. Shasta however, as the weather dominated the weekend climb. Stephen reports that high winds made it rough going, with gusts knocking climbers off their feet and sustained winds of 100mph on the summit. There was even an avalanche not far from camp that damaged or destroyed tents and managed to put a scare into some people I'm sure.

It sounds like it was a challenging climb, and the weather was bad enough that no one managed to top out. GJ was reminded that weather is the dominant force on the mountain, and when ever we venture up there, we're at it's whim.

The Boyne Valley is one of the most important archaeological landscapes in the world and this region sheltered in a bend of the River Boyne, known as Brú na Bóinne (meaning Palace of the Boyne) is home to three massive Neolithic passage tombs, Newgrange, Knowth and Dowth. A number of smaller tombs and features of huge importance are also contained within this area, but for this blogpost I’ll be focusing on Dowth – perhaps the least understood of the three major tombs. 

The silver ribbon of the Boyne visible from Dowth

Dowth is located around 2km north-east of Newgrange. Unlike Newgrange and Knowth, Dowth has never been properly excavated by archaeologists so there is far less known about the site. However in the middle of the nineteenth century, an extremely large hole was dug into the top of the mound.

Dowth is thought to date to around 5000 years old. It measures approximately 85m (280ft) in diameter and is ringed by 115 kerbstones, some of which display megalithic art. Two tombs are known at the western side of the large mound at Dowth and the setting sun in winter seems to illuminate the southernmost of these. Unfortunately on the day we visited we couldn’t access the passageways of the tombs as they were behind locked gates. The more northerly tomb has an 8m (26ft) long passageway that leads into a cruciform shaped chamber with an annexe leading off it. It also has an early medieval souterrain, probably dating to around the 10th century leading off the passageway. This shows that the tomb was still an important place in the early medieval period and possibly indicates a connection to an ancient monument with folkloric supernatural qualities. The southern passage has a circular chamber with a diameter of 4m (13ft). 

Unlike Knowth there are no satellite tombs immediately outside the great tomb at Dowth, but there are outlying tombs around 0.5km away, and a massive earth embanked henge is located to the east though there is no public access to that site.

A view down the northern passageway through the locked gate

A view down the southern passageway through the locked gate

The entrance to the southern passageway with a large kerbstone bearing cupmarks directly in front of the entrance

Dowth was known in early literature as Dubad and Sid mBresail (the otherworld mound of Bresal). The medieval manuscripts known as Dindseanchas explains how Dowth (Dubad) got its name. They tell the story of how all the men of Ireland were commanded by the King to come together for just one day to build a tower that would reach the heavens. The King's sister secretly used magic and stopped the sun in the sky so that there would be an endless day. As time wore on the men of Ireland became exhausted and realised that they had been tricked. However the magic spell was broken when the King and his sister committed incest. Darkness swiftly covered the land and work on the great mound was abandoned, it was said that Dubad (darkness) would be the name of this place from that day. In his brilliant new publication Archaeology and Celtic Myth, Professor John Waddell of NUI Galway notes the co-incidence that this legend reflects control over time and that archaeological excavation has revealed solar ritual and astronomical reflection in the tombs construction. Giving credit to Professor MJ O’Kelly and J. Carey’s hypothesis that these tales and legends recorded in medieval times might echo the beliefs of Neolithic tomb-builders millennia before.

If you look very carefully you can make out megalithic art on this kerbstone

The construction of the massive passage tombs of the Boyne Valley like Dowth, Knowth and Newgrange possibly indicate a larger-scale social identity. The physical size of these monuments and their complexity in construction suggests that there was an ability to mobilise hundreds of people to work on the tombs. This gives an indication of a concerted effort by a large group. Perhaps suggesting that these early farmers were forming large community groups for mutual support and ritual practices.

Dowth is free to access and there are no on-site guides, though the nearby Brú na Bóinne visitor centre gives a really good overview of the archaeology and history of these fascinating sites. A day out to the visitor centre to see Newgrange and Knowth and then a short drive to see Dowth is one of the most atmospheric and rewarding days you can have. I highly recommend it! For more information on the Visitor Centre please see here.

I hope you enjoy our blog, and if you have any suggestions for historical sites you’d like me to cover please do get in touch at info@abartaaudioguides.com. If you'd like to support us please check out 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 www.abartaheritage.ie.
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Some Sources and Further Reading

Cooney, G. 2000. Landscapes of Neolithic Ireland (Routledge, London)
Cooney, G. and Grogan, E. 1999. Irish Prehistory; A Social Perspective (Wordwell, Wicklow).
Herity, M. and Eogan. G. 1996. Ireland in Prehistory (Routledge, London)
Waddell, J. 2014. Archaeology and Celtic Myth (Four Courts Press, Dublin).

Aspiring adventure photographers listen up! The folks over at Xpedition.tv, who brought us an excellent adventure film competition earlier this year, are back with another challenge, and this time they're letting those of us who shoot photography get in on the fun. The site has just announced its Photo + Story Challenge, giving entrants the opportunity to share one of their favorite photos, and the story behind it, in just 50 words.

The competition is open to all photographers, although entries are to be focused around outdoor sports, adventure and exploration. There are three categories to enter your photo in. Those categories include: "This is where I learned..." (Hashtag: #whereweexplore); "The work pays off when..." (Hashtag: #xpeditionworthy) and "You know you're brothers/sisters when.." (Hashtag: #foolishandthebrave)

To enter photographers must select a single image depicting their experience in the outdoors. They must also submit 50 words that includes the phrase that describes the category (ie: "This is where I learned..."). Then follow @XpeditionTV on Instagram and hashtag your photos so that they can find it. Photographers can enter multiple images but they must create a separate entry for each photo.

When the contest is over and winners are selected, they'll receive a 30x40 custom print of their image worth up to $250. These images are said to be beautiful in quality and stunning to look at, especially for those who are use to digital photography and don't see prints much any more.

For more information, visit the Xpedition.tv website. Then, go sift through your photos and find something you'd love to share. Good luck!

This past summer, adventurers Seth Warren and Kirk Hollis embarked on a 500-mile, unsupported journey up the east coast of Africa. The duo traveled by stand-up paddleboards and kite surfed from Pemba, Mozambique to Zanzibar in Tanzania, hopping between more than 50 island along the way. Their six week journey is now the subject of an online film series brought to us by EpicTV.  You'll find the latest episode of that series below, which gives us a glimpse at an adventure that is long way from the big mountains or the polar regions that I often write about on this blog. What an amazing way to explore the wild coast of Africa.

Can't wait to follow Charlie and Ewan's next big adventure? The book is probably months away and the TV series won't air at least until this Fall, so what are we to do in the mean time? How about follow their adventures online! The BBC has set up a nice page with video, trip dispatches, and more information on the Boys' latest motorcycle cruise.

I first posted on this last week, but for those that don't know, actors Charley Boorman and Ewan McGregor have set off to ride their motorcycles from Scotland to South Africa. The project is entitled Long Way Down and will spawn a book of their adventures, as well as a BBC television show, which hopefully will be brought across the pond for fans in the United States to enjoy as well. The trip is a follow up to their hugely successful Long Way Round which was also made into a book and is available on DVD.

While I won't want everything to be given away by following them on the Internet, it will still be fun to keep up on their adventures while they are in the midst of the journey. Good luck guys!

That was so gross that I'm not even going to say where I got this thing. I literally left most of the bowl uneaten after having tasted the lifeless broth. And what's up with the lettuce in there anyway? All I ate was the basil and a couple of pieces of beef, which, to my surprise, were actually decently tender. I still might go back to this lady to see how her bánh xèo fares though.

Cioppino was once again on the business class menu out of SFO today, and I guess it wasn't that different from the one in First Class aside from how the flight attendant plated it this time. I liked the grilled aroma from that giant prawn, but otherwise the rest was filler to go into my belly.