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. ;)

If you plan your walk in the evening you'll be rewarded with breathtaking sunsets over the Boyne and medieval buildings

The town of Trim in County Meath is the site of the largest Norman Castle in Ireland. It was built by the powerful Hugh de Lacy in the late twelfth century. Although Trim Castle is a popular spot, few visitors realise that there is a wonderful River Walk adjacent to the castle that is one of the nicest strolls in Ireland. The route is popular with locals, and every time I’ve taken it I’ve seen a number of joggers, dog-walkers and families enjoying this wonderful amenity.

Before you set off though try and fit in a tour of Trim Castle itself as you will enjoy one of the best guided tours in Ireland (disclaimer, I used to work as a guide here so I’m a little biased). I’ll cover the castle and its history in a separate blogpost, it is undoubtedly one of my favourite heritage sites.

You can enjoy wonderful views of the castle from the vantage point of the River Walk

When you have finished your tour of the castle, go back to the carpark and cross the small wooden bridge over the Boyne. As you cross the wooden bridge, take a moment to look at the stone bridge that will be on your left. This bridge was constructed some time between 1330 – 1350 and it still carries traffic today, they certainly built to last in medieval Ireland!

The fourteenth century bridge over the Boyne

The Yellow Steeple

The tall stone tower opposite the castle is known locally as The Yellow Steeple. It too dates to the fourteenth century (thought to be constructed around 1368–70). It was the bell tower of the Augustinian Abbey of St. Mary’s that once stood opposite the castle. At 40m (131ft) tall, the Yellow Steeple is said to be the tallest medieval building still standing in Ireland. There are little visible remains of the other buildings of St. Mary’s, though Talbot’s Castle, the fine fortified townhouse to the left of the Yellow Steeple, is thought to have incorporated abbey buildings. Talbot’s Castle was built shortly after the Dissolution of the Monasteries in the 1540s. It was said to have been once the home of the famous satirist Jonathan Swift, author of Gulliver’s Travels. He was the vicar of Laracor on the outskirts of Trim in 1670.

Talbot's Castle, once the home of Jonathan Swift

The Sheep Gate (right of foreground) with Trim Castle in the background

The stone gate that straddles the path is called the ‘Sheep Gate’. Like the majority of medieval towns, Trim was surrounded by a defensive wall. As well as providing extra fortifications to protect the townspeople at times of conflict, the wall also served as a clear boundary between the town and countryside, where people entering the town could expect to be under different rules and regulations. The gateways served as control points, where tolls and taxes could be easily collected. The low stretch of stone wall running up the slope from the Sheep Gate is the remains of the once strong defensive walls, and the Sheep Gate itself is the only surviving medieval gate into Trim.

The path of The River Walk, winding its way alongside the Boyne

As you continue along the path following the bank of the river you can find a number of information panels that inform you about life here in the medieval period. After walking for around 15mins you will eventually come to the The Cathedral of Saints Peter and Paul at Newtown. The Cathedral was founded by the Norman Bishop, Simon de Rochfort, in around 1206.

The Nave of the Cathedral catching the last rays of the sun. 

Lovely medieval sculpture of an angel inside the Cathedral of Saints Peter & Paul

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

The 'Tomb of the Jealous Man' at Newtown Trim

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

The Priory Hospital of John the Baptist.

Further along the path and just over a small medieval bridge, you come to remarkable ruins of The Priory and Hospital of St. John the Baptist. The Priory was founded in the early thirteenth century by Simon de Rochfort for the Order of the Crutched Friars (Fratres Cruciferi). As well as being a monastery and guesthouse for pilgrims, the site also served as a hospital. The Order of the Crutched friars were just one of a number of religious orders that were brought to Ireland by the Normans following their invasion. They also brought the Knights Templar, the Hospitalliers and Trinitarians, as well as strongly supporting the expansion of religious orders like the Augustinians, Benedictines and Cistercians who already had a foothold in Ireland prior to the Norman invasion.

Inside the Priory Hospital of St. John the Baptist

The site was excavated by David Sweetman in 1984, he discovered the remains of a fifteenth century rood-screen that separated the nave from the choir, and a doorway in the gable end of the nave. He also found the remains of a tower leading to a room over the sacristy and part of the original domestic range to the north-east of the choir. Today you can still find the nave and chancel and a striking three-light window in the eastern wall. The large rectangular three-storey tower is 15th century, and was likely to have been domestic quarters.

You can still make out sections of the later 16th century enclosing walls that surround the site, and one small corner turret is still standing today in the western side of the field. The priory was dissolved during the Reformation in 1541, and was converted to being a private residence.

All of these sites are fantastic to explore, the walk from the castle carpark to the Priory Hospital will take around 30–35mins and there is a great old pub, Marcey Reagan’s directly across from the last stop so you can reward yourself before retracing your steps back along the path.

If you’d like to keep up with daily images and information about Ireland’s fantastic heritage sites please consider following Neil’s company Abarta Heritage on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram or Google+.

If you’d like to support us please consider downloading an audioguide from abartaheritage.ie: 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 Abarta whisk you off to ancient Ireland!

All images © Neil Jackman/Abarta Heritage


Some Sources and Recommended Reading:

Halpin, A and Newman, C. 2006. Ireland: An Oxford Archaeological Guide (Oxford University Press, New York).

Potterton, M. and Seaver, M. (eds) 2009. Uncovering Medieval Trim, Archaeological Excavations in  and around Trim, Co. Meath. (Four Courts Press, Dublin).

Potterton, M. 2005. Medieval Trim: History and Archaeology (Four Courts Press, Dublin)

Looking for a dose of inspiration on a Monday? Look no further than the video below, which features rock climber Urko Carmona, who just happened to have lost a leg in a car accident when he was 16. Now in his 30's, Urko hasn't let that accident keep him from living the life he wants, including one filled with plenty of adventure. Watching him scale a difficult rock face is definitely impressive.

Live your Dreams from klaas willems on Vimeo.

Yeah, I know...looking at that picture above doesn't get me excited either. Fortunately it was more tender and better than I was expecting, but still, it's airplane food. BTW, it looks like SQ's KrisFlyer Gold lounge at Changi doesn't have those lovely idly that the SATS Lounge has, although they were still featuring chwee kueh.

Once I get settled into this blog I'm sure it'll set its own rhythm. It won't be all chronological or anything like that. But yesterday I got home from 3 weeks in Morocco and for now that's what I want to write about. I took some notes while I was there and after a while maybe some reflections'll come to me too. But today I want to write about Fes, long one of my favorite Moroccan cities (although the first time I visited, July, 1969, I was too intestinally-afflicted to pay it much attention; and food was the last thing I was thinking about at the time). But I've been back many times and I was looking forward to it when I arrived from Tangier in late December (2005).

You can ask anyone in Morocco. Either they'll admit right off the bat that Fes has the best eats in the country or they'll make a tepid claim for their own city, asserting it and Fes are the title holders. But-- despite the fact that Hassan II hired a Meknesi chef for his kids' weddings-- everyone knows the best food in Morocco, a country with a highly sophisticated and unique cuisine, is made in Fes. Problem is, it's not easily available to visitors.

First a disclaimer: individual Fassi can be as nice and as helpful and as generous and as kind as people anywhere-- or as selfish, predatory and rotten. But it seems that Fes as a corporate body, particularly as a part of the Moroccan tourist industry, views (Western) visitors as fat pigeons brought to them for plucking. In the capital of Moroccan cuisine there is virtually no place to get a decent meal! The hotels and virtually all the restaurants serve blanded out versions of Moroccan classics for astronomical prices in absurd, gawdy atmospheres that even include the distinctly non-Moroccan (let alone Fassi) tradition of belly dancers. It's all about huge portions and they don't know from ala carte-- only ridiculously immense feasts (which are also ridiculously overpriced).

Like in any country, the best cooking is always in homes and because I've eaten in Moroccan homes for years, I know the difference between what is quality and what is swill. Heaping mounds of robotically-prepared mediocre food don't impress me even if it's served in a stunning atmosphere.

I stayed at the best address in Fes, the Palais Jamai, a place I've stayed for decades, although this was the first visit since it was acquired by multinational Sofitel in 1999. A glorious era that began in 1930 has definitely come to an end. The hotel was never really inexpensive but Sofitel has not only made it blander and more acceptable to a lower common denominator (i.e.- people who like Disneyworld), they have also made it outrageously more expensive. I mean, although it is quite lovely, built into the walls of Fes-el-Bali (the old city medina), when you get right down to it, it is, afterall, just a nice old hotel afloat in a sea of donkey shit. Literally. (One of the principal charms of Fes-- less charitable people might say the only charm-- is that it is a mysterious warren on dark, narrow cobblestone alleyways, with steps everywhere. It is the world's most complete functioning medieval city. No motor vehicles in medieval cities; only donkeys. And mules. And they don't wear diapers. After a while it only bothers you when it's raining.) Anyway, the hotel is charging London and Paris prices-- in a sea of donkey shit.

For those prices you should at least expect top notch eats, right? Breakfast's included and the key word is bland. If a Moroccan wife served her husband's guests harira like they had at breakfast at the Palais Jamai, she would be beaten before she was divorced.

A good price for GREAT harira (the national soup, the pride of every kitchen in the country) in a middle class Moroccan restaurant in Tangier is 5 dirhams. At the Jema el Fna in Marrakech, at one of the stalls, a heaping bowl of A-1 harira costs 2.5 dirham (like 30 U.S. cents). In tourist land-- not just in Fes, but in any Moroccan city catering to tourists-- the harira is of distinctly inferior quality and costs as much as 12 times that! A friend of mine from Meknes warned me-- as have other Moroccans outside of the tourist trade-- that if they think you're not Moroccan, the only limit to what they'll charge is what they think they can get away with. (Sounds something like Bush-Enron economics!)

According to the guide books, the "best" restaurant in Fes is the Al Fassia in our hotel. It is a very flashy atmosphere and the food is good. But there is no ala carte menu, just the absurd dinner made for a glutton (for around $50/person, an immense sum in this country). When I explained to Jamal, the concierge, that we wanted real Fassi food, not a touristic feeding station farce, he recommended L'Arabesque, a few steps away from the hotel. (Good concierges try to listen to what their client is saying and come up with a solution. In Morocco, concierges are not working for you; they're working for whomever is paying them to send rich foreigners their way.) L'Arabesque is the same kind of overdone nonsense as the Al Fassia-- and even more expensive! I'd wager no Moroccan has ever eaten there. And down the street-- and owned by the same outfit-- is the less grandiose joint along similar lines charging around $15/person, the Dar Jamaii. Dinner was somewhat better than canned dog food.

None of the tour books' highly recommended grand restaurants are open for dinner-- only lunch. We tried the Palais M'Nebhi, just me and Roland and a large troupe of picture-snapping Japanese. It is a beautiful setting-- all Moorish tiles and superbly carved ceilings and all-- but the food was remarkably mediocre-- and predictably overpriced. We were ready to give up on finding a good meal in the city with the best food in the country!

And along came Baba. Baba is a bizarre name for an Arab but this guy was born in Fes-- a former businessman whose stress-related heart problems led him away from business and towards calligraphy. Roland hired him to write the names of each of his 20 third graders in classic Arabic on exotic-looking cardstock. He recommended a restaurant called Riad Dar Tafilalet. We walked over around 6, told them exactly what we wanted and they told us to come back at 9. I asked them to make me a tagine of the tiny black artichokes that were in season (Tagine B'Lquoq beldi) that my friend from Meknes had told me about. Roland asked for a lamb and prunes tagine. I got an exceptionally good vegetarian tagine-- no artichokes-- and Roland got some first rate lamb with artichokes; no prunes. There were no other clients but the staff was friendly and the atmosphere was fine and we ate the rest of our dinners at this place.

We also had a lunch with Baba and his family (in the house he was born in). Predictably it was better than anything we could get in a restaurant. Tons of food, though, and his sister-in-law and another guest kept urging me to eat more and more. No belching though.

I'll talk more about Fes and also more about Moroccan food-- in Tangier, Casablanca, Essaouira and Marrakech-- in a day or two. Meanwhile, here's a great link for all the facts about Morocco.

I've always loved Indian food and I've spent enough months in India since 1969 to not need a getting-used-to-it period when I get here. Now, I know it sounds a little trite, but you know what they say about how the best food in any country is what people prepare in their homes? Well, it's even more true in India than anywhere else I've ever been. But that isn't only because the home cooking is so good-- which it is-- but because the restaurant culture is so, surprisingly, stunted and undeveloped.

A few nights ago I went to see an operatic presentation sponsored by the Italian embassy at Delhi's 16th century Purana Qila (Old Fort) with my friend Daleep, his mom and cousin. By the time we got back to their house, around 9pm, we were all starving but no one much fancied a restaurant. As we walked up the stairs, Daleep's cousin mentioned that he had a hankering for brains; I mentioned that I'm a vegetarian. By 10 we were eating a sumputous 7 course feast-- including brain curry and lots of vegetable preparations. [I passed on the brain curry of course, but as always in India there was plenty for non-brain eaters to feast on.] Of course, it helps to have lots of good help. I only wish, though, that Delhi restaurants were nearly as good.

The problem-- and a silver lining-- is well-illustrated by 2 very different Connaught Place eateries within a minute of two from each other, Veda and Vega. Ask any concierge at a top hotel where to go eat and they will invariably mention Bukhara (more on that later) and Veda. Most of the top restaurants, like Bukhara, are in hotels. Veda isn't. It's a trendy, transnational Indian fusion restaurant catering to the call center crowd and to tourists daring enough to eat outside the hotel scene-- but only so far outside. The food isn't bad; it just isn't exceptional, although the prices are. Basically the food is kind of Indian and kind of arty/trendy... but not really Indian, just arty/trendy.

Down Connaught Circle a block or so is Vega, a vegetarian restaurant no one will ever call in-crowd. Vega is just behind the lobby of a small, modest hotel, the Alka. It's the next best thing to home cooking I've found in Delhi. And they just keep bringing heaps of delicious food until you absolutely insist that they stop. I ordered a thali and it included any and every kind of bread as well as every Indian veggie dish you ever heard of although just the normal, traditional ones, all cooked without onions and garlic. And the bill came to about a tenth of what the fancy places-- like Veda up the street-- cost.

Park Balluchi advertises that it has been voted the #1 best restaurant in India year after year. They're mixing up "best" either with "popular" or "richest food." The setting, in Hauz Khas' Deer Park, is lovely, the service is fine and the plates are gargantuan. The mewa paneer tukra (grilled balls of soft "cheese" stuffed with nuts, raisins, mushrooms and cream) was opulent and over-the-top. I managed to eat almost half an order.

Bukhara, in the Sheraton, makes the Park Balluchi seem like a soup kitchen by comparison. If being around trendy people turns you off, skip this place but it really is "the best" restaurant in town, at least from the international, cosmopolitan perspective. They started with 17 items on the menu when they first opened and they've never changed anything. Daleep's cousin works in mangement at the hotel and he told me that the ratio between lentils and butter in their famous dal makhrani (black lentils simmered for 12 hours in tomatoes, ginger and garlic) is one to one! It's impossible to get in without a reservation.

The Imperial Hotel-- the best in town unless you don't like traditional places-- has a whole slew of top restaurants, from a sumptuous All-India epicurian festival, Daniell's Tavern, to the hipsterish Spice Route, a pan-Asian (mostly Thai-oriented) extravagenza in one of the most gorgeous rooms in the city. They've also got the best Italian restaurant in Delhi, San Gimignano. Three other hotel restaurants of note are Masala Art at the Taj Palace, Dum Pukht at the Sheraton, both over-the-top, and the more reasonable Chor Bizarre, a Kashmiri restaurant in the Broadway Hotel.

I tried a couple of South Indian places I liked a lot, Swagath, which serves the unique seafood-and-coconut based cuisine of Mangalore (in Defense Colony Market) and Sarvana Bhawan, part of a very reasonably-priced, respectable chain. My advice is to stick to the free-standing places that non-trendy, middle class Indians eat in and to avoid the over-the-top (mostly hotel-based) joints that will be as bad for your health as they are for your wallet.

I've always wanted to take a trip like this one. CanoeKayak.com is reporting that Keirron Tastagh and paddling partner Jeff Norville will attempt to set a record by circumnavigating Vancouver in just 14 days.

The two will travel in a tandem kayak for the duration of the 700 mile journey. The previous record is 28 days, held by Leon Sommé, who completed the trip solo. Keirron and Jeff will meet and train together for the first time, just prior to embarking on their expedition. They hope to work out a good paddling rhythm before hand, and get to know one another, then head to Canada, get their passports stamped, and set off. If all goes according to plan, they'll get underway around mid-May.

The two will be paddling for a cause as well. They're traveling in a pink kayak in support of Breast Cancer Awareness and a mutual friend who contracted the disease. You can find out more about their cause, and donate by clicking here. Good luck!

Mopti's exquisite La Maison Rouge

Outside of Bamako, Mali's capital city, there aren't really any hotels similar to American and European style hotels. And even in Bamako there aren't any Hiltons, Marriotts, Best Westerns, Hyatts, Sheratons... let alone Four Seasons or Ritz-Carltons. It's not that kind of a place. Outside of Bamako people camp in tents, sleep on a roof or stay in modest lodgings without regular electricity or hot water. An alternative? Paris, Rome, the Bahamas, Las Vegas...

Thanks to a fellow blogger, Sophie, a Swedish woman who runs a hotel in Djenne and blogs about the experience, I got turned on to an informal network of delightful boutique-like hotels throughout Mali. After I booked a room at Sophie's Djenne Djenno, she helped me, through a series of e-mails, plan out where to stay all over the country. All of the hotels are quite small, utterly unique, and very much geared towards serving the needs of foreign travelers. In Djenne, one of the most memorable places we visited in Mali, the Djenne Djenno, a 10 minute walk from the world's biggest and most famous mud mosque in the center of town, has a dozen rooms. We paid around $40 for what would be the equivalent of a junior suite. The hotel is beautifully decorated, beautifully run and impeccably kept up, from the beautiful gardens and wonderful common spaces to the clean, comfortable rooms (with, thankfully, mosquito nets). The restaurant is really good as well. There's no giftshop selling t-shirts or ashtrays.

Our next stop was Mopti, Mali's second biggest city (and biggest port, albeit a river port). The Kanaga, with 80 rooms, is bigger than any of the hotels we stayed at while we traveled around Mali, and is considered the "best" hotel in town. It has a swimming pool and a good location near the river (the heart of town) but otherwise... not nearly as good as La Maison Rouge, one of the most beautiful hotels I've ever seen. The hotel, which opened about a year and a half ago-- and isn't quite finished-- is the dream of visionary French architect Amédé Mulin, who has been building it for over 4 years. Because of the luxuriant public spaces the hotel looks pretty large, although there are only 12 rooms. The rooms are beautifully appointed (although mosquito nets are very much needed) in earthy Malian design. Our double cost us around $80.

After Mopti we headed out for Dogon country and we based ourselves first in Bandiagara and then in Sangha. Neither actually has what I'd call a boutique hotel and in each case, Hotel Kambary (aka, Chevel-Blanc) in Bandiagara and Campement Sangha, we found pretty basic accommodations (with not many hours of electricity per day in Sangha). Actually the Chevel-Blanc, a series of self-contained geodesic domes, is pretty good, although there are no mosquito nets and the owner, an eccentric Swiss man named Jean Bastian, is a bit too uptight to be running a service business. Campement Sangha may be the best available to that charming and very remote town-- and it is well-run-- but... well, thank God there were mosquito nets. We paid around $70 for a double.

Timbuktu's nicest hotel is another boutique situation, La Maison, a small, well-run, beautiful little hotel in the middle of town. The clean, simple very agreeable rooms are built around a lovely courtyard with a candlelit pool. The rooftop restaurant is a pleasant common space. A double was around $80.

These hotels all have decent restaurants with fair prices and safe food and water. You tend not to spend much time in your room and the common spaces are conducive to friendly interaction with other travelers.

Photo © A.K. Kimoto-All Rights Reserved
The New York Times' LENS blog features a poignant photo essay on opium addiction in Afghanistan by the late A.K. Kimoto. The photo essay is in black & white; dark and brooding as befits such a subject matter. See it...I highly recommend it, along with its accompanying article.

Kimoto was a 32-year-old Japanese photographer based in Bangkok, who died in March while traveling to Australia.

He spent years photographing families in the remote northeastern mountains of Afghanistan, controlled by the Taliban. He roamed remote settlements in Badakhshan, Afghanistan, to find out why so many of the inhabitants (even the young) had become addicted to opium. As Emily Anne Epstein explains in the piece: "The poverty in this region is so harsh that parents blow opium smoke into their children’s noses to soothe the pangs of hunger."

A.K. Kimoto wrote:

“I offer to transport the mother and child to a clinic. One of the elders cuts me off before I can finish my thought. He smiles gently as he tells me that the child would never survive such a journey in the cold rain, and anyway, this way of life and death have been repeated for centuries in these mountains.”

Coincidentally, the New York Times reported yesterday that the United States has discovered nearly "$1 trillion" in untapped mineral deposits in Afghanistan, which translates into approximately $35,000 for every inhabitant of the country. Naturally, massive investments will be required to mine these deposits, but in any event there's little chance that the poor of Badakhshan will see their lives improve from this eventual wealth. Cronyism, and venal corruption are endemic to the region...and only those with the power and connections will reap the benefits.

Here's a cool article that I found over at CanoeKayak.com about exploring the caves of the Channel Islands via Kayak. The Channel Islands are located off the coast of California, and have become quite an interesting place to visit as their remoteness in regards to the mainland, has left them mostly untouched, giving rise to interesting plant an animal life and a glimpse into what the area once looked like.

The article notes that there are over 255 documented sea caves on Anacapa and Santa Cruz Islands, two of the five islands that make up the Natational Park. It's also noted that there are many more still waiting to be found. I can't think of a better way to explore them then by kayak, and it looks like it would be an amazing paddle to be sure.

Once again, the pictures help tell the tale, as there are only a few shots, but they are very cool indeed. The description of the islands themselves are amazing as well. Anyone want to organize a trip to paddle the area? :)

The adventure in snowboarding and skiing these days is found in the backcountry. That's exactly what compels pro-boarder Jeremy Jones to head to the mountains to find new places to ply his craft. In the video below, Jeremy talks about what drives him to visit these remote places and what has enabled him to do so in recent years. But it will be the stunning visuals that will stick with you. Jeremy runs some seriously steep vertical and carves narrow runs in the backcountry. Pretty amazing stuff and a long way from the groomed slopes most of us stick to.