Disney should run Titanic Belfast, says Northern Ireland economist

Professor Mike Smyth warns public sector involvement will limit success of Titanic Belfast as tourist venueDisney should have been asked to run Belfast's new Titanic attraction, one of Northern Ireland's leading economists has said, warning that the project could become "another white elephant".As the city prepares for the opening of Titanic Belfast, the �100m visitor centre built on the slipway where the ship was launched 100 years ago, Prof Mike Smyth expressed concern that public sector involvement in running the complex would hamper its development of as a tourist magnet.Ahead of the doors opening on 31 March, Smyth, who is also an economic adviser to the EU, said: "I really, really wish the new Titanic project well but I think, to excuse the pun, we are in danger of missing the boat."The University of Ulster economics lecturer continued: "Civil servants and the public sector in Northern Ireland are too risk averse. They are too concerned with ticking boxes and keeping a bureaucracy going that clogs up enterprise."It would have been far better to hand over the day-to-day running of the Titanic centre as a tourism venue to the people who know how to get bums on seats."They should have negotiated with the Disney organisation or the company that runs, say Alton Towers, in order to ensure that year in, year out the tourists keep coming to this part of Belfast. Having a public sector input will tie the hands of enterprising individuals who have to do the hard sell."Titanic Belfast stresses that it has brought together a host of stakeholders from the public and private sector including the attraction's designers Event Communications, whose other projects have included the Victoria & Albert Museum, the Imperial War Museum North and the Roman Baths in Bath."Operationally the team at Titanic Belfast includes senior personnel who have a track record of successfully running large public venues such as Belfast's Waterfront Hall," a spokesperson for the company said.Smyth pointed to the example of golf and a �100m golf resort a mile from the Giant's Causeway on the North Antrim coast as a warning about how developments can get clogged up by "do-gooders and box tickers."Even though the minister of environment, Alex Attwood, finally approved the scheme this month we may have missed out. People talk about our great golfers, our world-beaters like Rory McIlroy, Graeme McDowell and Darren Clarke and how we can capitalise on golf tourism as a result."But look at the record ? it took a decade to get permission to build that world-class resort on the North Antrim coast. And our record in bringing in golf tourist revenue has to be put in perspective. According to the figures golf tourism in Northern Ireland brought in around �15m in 2009. Yet the Open in somewhere like St Andrews or Troon just across the sea will bring in �100m of tourist revenue. In total, Scotland golf tourism brings in around �1bn per year," he said.The TitanicBelfastBelfastUnited KingdomEuropeNorthern IrelandNorthern IrelandMuseumsHeritageHenry McDonaldguardian.co.uk © 2012 Guardian News and Media Limited or its affiliated companies. All rights reserved. | Use of this content is subject to our Terms & Conditions | More Feeds

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Istanbul's fasil music scene

Head for an Istanbul meyhane (tavern) and enjoy a raki-fuelled night of Turkish 'fasil' song and dance ? as long as you don't mind joining inFasil is what makes a good night great in a traditional Turkish meyhane (tavern) ? a motley band of violin, lyre and clarinet-playing musicians and singers who usually mix classical Turkish music, well-loved songs from the 1950s and 1960s and sometimes a cheeky arabesque drumbeat to suit a crowd of diners. This kind of music is quintessentially crowd-pleasing, to the extent that, as the night progresses and the raki flows, the performance becomes the realm of the people and the diners themselves do most of the singing and a great deal of boozy dancing.Fasil is to the Turks what karaoke is to the Japanese (and to a certain extent the British) ? everyone gets involved, but it usually entails a certain amount of tipsiness. I once walked past the open door of a fasil-fuelled meyhane late one night while completely sober, and found it decidedly embarrassing. Grown men and women were singing lustily into a microphone passed around by hands holding glasses of raki and forkfuls of cheese, everyone swaying and hooting with laughter. They were having a whale of a time, just the right side of tipsy, warm with camaraderie and the buzz of being ridiculous with friends.The great thing is that, even as a foreigner, you are never allowed to be an outsider in a fasil crowd. You may not know the words to the songs or how to dance, but everyone will be (literally) falling over themselves to get you on your feet and fully involved. If this sounds completely horrifying, my advice would be to have a drink and see what happens.The ideal setting for fasil is unquestionably the meyhane. When performed on stage in a concert hall it is an absolute disaster ? unremitting, with slow, dirge-like singing. Avoid at all costs. The good meyhanes in Istanbul are mainly in Beyoglu ? this is because, in Ottoman times, Greek and Armenian minorities were allowed to have meyhanes and drink, even when officially alcohol was illegal. There were plenty of secret visits by Muslims too, but the meyhanes were situated firmly in minority communities.Some Fasil purists insist that the music ought to be unmixed with arabesque-style dancing influences. Try telling that to a raucous group of friends having the time of their lives in meyhane mayhem.Famous fasil tavernsGalata MeyhanesiThis great venue in the heart of Galata, Beyoglu, is very popular, so be sure to book. It is one of the few venues with performances on weekdays.Istiklal Caddesi Orhan Apaydin Sokak 5/A, +90 212 293 1139, galata.com.trSi�anli MeyhanesiThis meyhane is rather out of the centre of town, but perfect if you want to combine the fasil experience with a location next to the Bosphorus.Mektep Sokak 8, �inaralti/Emirgan, +90 212 277 6303, meyhanefasil.comFeraye MeyhanesiThis tavern is characterised by lots of boisterous revellers. The owner is very jolly, and usually to be found holding court on a Saturday night.Istiklal Caddesi, Beyoglu, +90 212 244 7472IstanbulTurkeyWorld musicTurkish food and drinkCity breaksCultural tripsguardian.co.uk © 2012 Guardian News and Media Limited or its affiliated companies. All rights reserved. | Use of this content is subject to our Terms & Conditions | More Feeds

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Photos: Where You Went

Our jet-setting friends on Facebook continue to amaze us with their weekend travel plans. Here's a taste of the places you and your fellow gallivanters have visited lately.

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Camel wrestling on Turkey's Aegean coast

The Aegean coast of Turkey is best known for the ruins of Ephesus and Troy, but camel wrestling is just as ancient, and much more colourfulImagine the crowd at a British music festival, happy despite the rain, cheering, eating overpriced hotdogs, dancing tipsily to the music and thoroughly enjoying themselves. Now imagine this scene taking place near an ancient temple on the coast of Turkey: the air is thick with the smoke of seared camel sausage, Efes beer flows instead of Carling, some wandering Gypsy minstrels have replaced Coldplay and everyone's attention is on the central arena, where two gaudily decorated Arab camels are shuffling around in a mutual headlock.Over the roar of the supporters, the boom of the commentator's megaphone and the tinkle of camel bells, everyone is listening out for the scream of defeat which will surely come from one of the struggling combatants any moment now. The two are well-matched. Puffs of spittle-foam fall from their lips over the crouching umpires, who are warily checking for illegal knee-biting within the melee.Suddenly, one of the lurching beasts gets a knee on the other's neck and it's all over. Whistles blow. Fans whoop. The owner of the victor literally dances with delight, beaming happily into the lens of a national television camera hovering nearby.Welcome to camel wrestling. The Aegean coast of Turkey is probably best-known for the ancient sites of Ephesus, Troy and the seaside resort of Bodrum; but this also happens to be the tour route of the annual Turkish camel wrestling competition, which snakes down the coast every winter, attracting legions of camel fanciers but few western tourists.I attended a day of wrestling midway through the tour, in Sel�uk, close to Ephesus, arriving the day before the wrestling for the obligatory pre-game camel beauty pageant.This contest is a traditional precursor to the main event, and is taken extremely seriously, with a panel of judges picked for their camel-related or academic backgrounds. The contestants are not beautiful. They are mighty wrestlers and do not display themselves to best advantage at close quarters ? in drizzly rain in a town square.However, their owners have spent a lot of time dressing them in glitzy banners and bells, and one old man in the crowd next to me notes that the animal who ends up taking first prize smells faintly of soap. Also, the arch of his neck is very fine.So much for the peripheral ceremonies: Miss Camel wins a new bell and the owners celebrate with a few drinks. Though a niche spectator sport, camel wrestling attracts a passionate fan base, particularly in this area. The tradition stretches back thousands of years among Turkic tribes, but is now pretty much confined to the Aegean area, and specifically to families of camel owners, who are proud to train the descendants of famous winners of bygone years.These camels and their owners are serious celebrities, whose photos are displayed in ceremonial tents near the ground. Several of this year's animals are household names, commanding vast sums from local municipalities for entering their competition because they raise the calibre of the event and attract big crowds.The Rocky equivalent of recent years is �ilgin �zer ("Crazy �zer") ? he is unbeatable, the darling of the carpet-betting punters, and has a magnificent, personalised trailer in which he arrives with great pomp and ceremony to each event, outshining the plebeian contestants in their dusty open lorries. He is worth 200,000TL (around �70,000), so that seems fair enough.The fees paid to the camel owners for entering their animals in a wrestling bout, which lasts up to five minutes, range from around �3,500 to just �120.The sport has always had a difficult relationship with the national government, which has considered it rather backward and embarrassing for Turkey's image ever since the formation of the Republic in the 1920s. I was at the Sel�uk event with filmmakers Sibel Samli and Gizem Selcuk, who are making a documentary about the wrestling scene. Despite the obvious financial potential of the sport as a tourist attraction, they are not hopeful of getting any money from the Department for Tourism, which is wary of backing anything that might glorify a rather rough and supposedly barbaric traditional sport.In fact, the reputation for barbarism is unfair ? the wrestling is much less violent these days. At one time a female camel would be tethered in view of the arena to galvanise the male camels into furious, sexually charged battle. Now, the contestants are merely bored virgin males who would probably pick a fight with each other anyway. Biting is forbidden, and the fight is broken up if the camels succumb to temptation ? most are well-trained. The other controversial element of the sport is that most camels are not bred in Turkey but smuggled over the border from Iran.As I left Sel�uk, spattered with mud and bleary-eyed from the sausage smoke, I wondered why the owner of �ilgin �zer doesn't sell his camel. At that moment, I came across a young man tenderly leading his charge into a carpet-covered old lorry outside the arena. These men love their camels and have big dreams for them ? �zer is a living legend.? The wrestling season runs from December to April. The Sel�uk event is on the second or third weekend of January. No official website but keep an eye on selcukephesus.com/what-to-do/camel-wrestling. Flights from Istanbul to Izmir cost about �25 with Pegasus (flypgs.com). Sel�uk is 40 minutes by train from Izmir airport, tickets �2.50.Rent a renovated house in beautiful Sirince, about 15 minutes from Sel�uk, through ephesushousessirince.com from ?150 a night for two peopleMORE TRADITIONAL SPECTACLESZenne belly dancingThink belly dancing and what probably comes to mind is a sexualised "oriental" version. Many a sadly overrated night out in the more touristy areas of Istanbul will feature scantily clad women and plenty of alcohol. But in a few venues around the city, a subtler and more artistically interesting form of the dance has survived: this is traditional zenne dancing, performed by male dancers who are truly masters of the craft. Relying on skill rather than ostentatious sexuality, these dancers are mesmerising performers, and well worth seeking out. ? In Istanbul, try Al Jamal Badawi, S�leyman Seba Caddesi 42-46, near Besiktas, or Nomads, Muallim Naci Caddesi 65 in Ortak�yOil wrestlingIn Edirne, north-west Turkey, the famed Kirkpinar festival has been held every summer since 1362. The spectacle of a thousand oil-covered, burly men thrashing about in leather shorts might well draw a snigger from your average Western tourist, but this is a hugely respected national sport. Expect Gypsy bands, belly dancing and extravagant roasts, all contributing to a truly medieval scene. ? Edirne is about two hours from Istanbul by bus. The official website (kirkpinar.com) is colourful, but out of date. Contact the Edirne Tourist Information Office (+90 284 213 9208, edirnetourisminformation@gmail.com) for details of the event. Tickets cost 60-90TL (�20-30), through Biletix (web03.biletix.com/anasayfa/TURKIYE/tr). The competition takes place in early July ? the 2012 date has yet to be fixedMilitary ceremonial marchesThe Turkish military has an extremely long and illustrious tradition, and the most spectacular relic of this is the Ottoman parade, still performed by select sections of the army on particular public holidays (bayram) and regularly at the Military Museum at Sisli, in central Istanbul. A complete performance features soldiers wearing full Ottoman regalia ? turbans, sashes, swords, sceptres and perfectly coiffed moustaches ? marching to brass bands and lusty singing. But if you are not around for a national day of celebration, the museum puts on a scaled-down version of the performance every day except Mondays and Tuesdays at 3pm. ? Military Museum (tinyurl.com/militarymuseum), open Wed-Sun 9am-5pm, entrance �1.50TurkeyFestivalsCultural tripsAdventure travelguardian.co.uk © 2012 Guardian News and Media Limited or its affiliated companies. 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Time travel in ancient Antioch, Turkey

Saint Paul preached there and Anthony and Cleopatra partied. In the ancient city of Antioch, near the border with Syria, our writer found a taste of Turkey with an Arabic accentAntioch's Hatay airport is closed, biblically flooded. Instead we fly in to macho, meat-loving Adana, Turkey's very own Texas, over vast brown and green fields of cotton and tobacco. This detour affords us an overnight stay in Tarsus, birthplace of Saint Paul, and the site of Anthony and Cleopatra's first frolickings. Tarsus has been bypassed by a motorway more lately, so what was an important, thriving city 2,000 years ago is now a charming provincial backwater.No visit here is complete without a muttered blessing over a swig of (in truth, rather stale-tasting) water from St Paul's Well, which is in the warren of streets that comprises Old Tarsus. Here, pleasingly decrepit Jewish and Armenian homes from the past few centuries moulder atmospherically away. You might glimpse an orange tree growing through a ruined roof, some rubbled Corinthian pillars and pediments, or a dramatically cracked architrave of prettily dressed stone with Arabic inscriptions.Bedesten is a cool, airy late-sixteenth-century version of a shopping mall, where you bargain for knick-knacks and sip hot kaynar, a sweet cinnamon-and-spice drink garnished with crushed walnuts. The people here are lovely: gentle and welcoming, and delighted to see a rare foreign visitor. And with their dark dramatic eyes, the girls look just like young Cleopatras.The other drink you might be offered is thick purple salgam, which is juice of carrot-pickle water flavoured with half-fermented turnips. It's a Tarsus speciality, taken either plain or spicy ? or not at all if you're me. Locals drink salgam with a delicious meat-and-two-meat lunch at Antik Anadolu Sofrasi, an airy restaurant next to the antik yol, a pre-Roman road that was rediscovered by council workmen in 1993. The road is an engineering masterpiece along which would have passed the Emperor Hadrian, Cicero, Greek historian Strabo, and the Tony and Cleo show ? as well as millions of plebs like us.It would have taken Saint Paul and his donkey the best part of a fortnight to get from here to Antioch. We drive it in three gentle hours, following signs for Halep ? Aleppo ? along good empty roads. En route we listen to high-cholesterol Arabesque music on a station calling itself Turkey's Artery. Having cut the throat of shame, the male and female singers spew out their sweating, broken, defiant hearts.To our right, the port of Iskenderun is where the whale is said to have spewed out the prophet Jonah, and is also where Indiana Jones got off the train to seek the Holy Grail. Our search for Antioch's town centre leads through uninspiring suburbs before revealing the stunning, plunging valley where ancient Antioch, today's Antakya, glints and winks in sapphire-bright March sunlight.Old Antioch, capital of the ancient kingdom of Hatay, is on the east bank of the Orontes river, which flows thickly and brownly through the city, having risen near Baalbek in Lebanon. The Orontes (called Asi by the Turks) reminds us how close we are to the lands of Araby. The border with Syria is barely 10km from here, and indeed Antakya offers many of the exotic Levantine pleasures of say, Aleppo, but in the safer, soulful environment of a bustling old Turkish town.Antioch on the Orontes (as it was called, to differentiate it from other, lesser Antiochs) is smaller now than it was in antiquity. Founded in the fourth century BC, it grew to be, along with Rome, Constantinople and Alexandria, one of the most important cities of the Roman Empire. From its peak population of nearly half a million in those heady days of empire, the city is now home to about 200,000 people.After the more conservative Tarsus, Antioch would have seemed to Saint Paul a place of abundant water, beauty, life and learning. Following his conversion, Paul preached his sermons and saved his first souls here; Saint Peter founded a church here; and it was in Antioch that the word "Cristianos" was first used to describe this band of believers.The cave church of St Peter's is a 10-minute drive, then a bit of a climb above town. It a movingly simple grotto, said to originally have been dug by Peter himself out of the soft volcanic rock of Mount Starius: its facade was constructed by Crusaders in 1100, and rebuilt in the 19th century. As the sun starts to drop, the pink-tinged views from the church are of minarets in silhouette shrouded by the fragrant smoke of a thousand braziers as fires are lit for supper.I've been warned to expect delicious food ? Turkish with an Arabic accent ? so first work up an appetite with a brisk hike from St Peter's to Demir Kapi, the Iron Gate. Guided by a couple of chattery young Kurdish shepherds called Valad and Mehmet Ali, we scramble along a lonely narrow path above a straggly hamlet. Way below, with whistles, whoops and a flag, our shepherds' uncle is training his pet pigeons to circle, swoop and bank in unison in the late light.It is said that the Emperor Justinian (who also built Hagia Sophia in Istanbul) built Demir Kapi to reinforce the many kilometres of wall protecting Antioch's vulnerable back from invaders. It's more likely that he just improved an existing fortification by building a massive block barrage to fill in the valley between the mountains Starius and Cassius.Demir Kapi is huge, awe-inspiring and powerful, even for our young guides, who see it every day. They explain that their lives have changed recently ? like most of their neighbours, their families are sheltering refugees from Syria.To eat in Antioch is to experience both deep joy and an unbroken link with the past. We're planning to spend the following day immersing ourselves in the markets that supply Antakya with its ingredients, but that night we just eat. At Leban restaurant (Gazipasa Caddesi 5, next to the Orthodox church) we drink good Turkish wines and feast on flatbreads spread with crumbled, peppered �okelek cheese, and salads of spicy wild mountain herbs; thick lactic-tangy virgin yoghurt is puddled with new olive oil and strewn with torn mint; kebabs are speckled with green pistachio and dusty/lemony sumac; aubergine and tahini paste tastes of fire, smoke and earth ? these are foods that Saint Paul would have feasted upon, and they still taste blessed.Hatay is famous for k�nefe ? a sweetmeat made of white cheese sandwiched within shredded wheat-like filaments that's then butter-griddled and flipped. It is served in a pool of thin sugar syrup and (if you like) sprinkled with ground green pistachios. A good place to try it is �inaralti, in the courtyard of the Ahmediye Camii mosque.After a slightly unwise late-night k�nefe crawl, sleep comes blank and deep, leaving us ready for a day of trade. Once a Silk Road terminus, and always a forum of enthusiastic exchange, Antioch has markets that easily rival the fabled bazaars of Aleppo. Uzun �arsi means "Long Bazaar", and is a connected warren of streets, alleys, ateliers, depots, shops, stalls and places of worship. Antioch's god is praised in buildings ranging from Protestant, Greek, Maronite, Orthodox and Roman Catholic churches to synagogues and Shia, Sunni and Alevi mosques and shrines. These sit comfortably and naturally next to each other, just as their congregations have lived, worked and loved together for the past two thousand years.Uzun �arsi's streets skirt around church walls, run right through the bowered courtyards and orange trees of medieval mosques, and fall in white tunnels under stone and wood minarets built a thousand years ago in the names of beauty and glory.An itinerant corset seller leaves his barrow to beckon me into the steamy subterranean baths: in the hot room is the tomb of a venerated 16th-century water-carrier.Above ground, we are introduced to the boilerman who keeps the hammam's fires stoked. Buried in the sawdust ashes are several elderly amphorae in which broad beans are slowly cooking. These we eat in the adjacent alley at �ayirci Bakla Humus (Meydan Civari, haci Molla Ishani 6), where the still-warm beans are being pounded with wooden pestles to a dense paste with garlic, sesame paste, olive oil and lemon juice. The equivalent of �1.10 also buys piles of hot chewy bread and many-hued shredded pickles. This hummus is jokingly called beton ? concrete ? as it fills you up so. This is Abrahamic food, enjoyed in Antakya equally by all peoples of the book.Uzun �arsi is alive with tiny dairies, above which artisan cheesemakers work in laddered, low-ceilinged attics. There are mattress-stuffers and saddlemakers, cobblers wearing skullcaps and pale, manicured besuited jewellers. Over tulip-shaped glasses of tannic tea we bargain for Antioch's famous laurel-oil soaps and for knives designed to slice tomatoes. Also on sale are rude catapults, kitsch slippers and walnut jam.At lunchtime locals might take parsley, onion, peppers and tomato to one of the many butchers, who for a few pennies minces them with his scimitar and mixes them with fatty lamb. This mixture is spread into a copper tin which the baker opposite will slide into his hive-shaped wood-fired oven. The remedy for so rich a lunch on a concrete-lined stomach is more k�nefe, and a very long sit-down.A day or two exploring Uzun �arsi and the jumbled cobbled streets that surround it is a lesson in history and harmony. We eat lentil pottages, messes of beans and salads of herbs, and witness myriad influences from the Greeks, Persians, Arabs and Turks who sought success and peace here. I never hear a harsh word, a raised voice or even a parped horn.There's much to see within striking distance of Antakya, and the spring air is clear and sunny, so we carry on following in the footsteps of Alexander and Julius Caesar, Anthony and Cleopatra (who were married here), Peter and Paul, and sundry other saints, sinners, movers and shakers of the ancient world.Harbiye is 7km south of Antakya. The Romans called the place Daphne and believed it was here that a horny Apollo pursued the nymph Daphne, who was turned into a laurel tree to escape him, her wreathed leaves later crowning victors. Today it is a deep wooded valley of sparkling cool waterfalls and bay trees, where tea is taken and shaded picnics are spread ? a paradise in the sledgehammer heat of summer.The road to Samandag mountain takes us coastwards, over foothills where wind turbines turn in lazy harmony. At the village of Senk�y we climb towards St Simeon's Monastery. It was here, in the sixth century, that Saint Simeon Stylites the younger sat in devotion atop his stone column for (some say) 68 years. I wonder briefly if he was the inspiration for The Stylistics' I'm Stone in Love with You. Whatever, Saint Simeon chose a heart-thumping, cloud-high view to gaze upon, and though it lies in ruins, his monastery today remains a place of deep peace.Whether it is the world-defining biblical events that have taken place here, or 2,000 years of the rhythms of invasion, conversion and assimilation, there remains in Antioch and Tarsus a happy atmosphere that is relaxed, liberal and at peace with itself. You meet a people who are ethnically mixed, and happy to mix with you. We eat, drink and shop with relish and then leave, praying to return.TurkeyCultural tripsTurkish food and drinkCity breaksShort breaksFood and drinkKevin Gouldguardian.co.uk © 2012 Guardian News and Media Limited or its affiliated companies. All rights reserved. | Use of this content is subject to our Terms & Conditions | More Feeds

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Where was Abe Lincoln's summer home? Hint: it wasn't in the Hamptons

Filed under: North America, United StatesKennedy had Hyannisport. Bush 41 summered in Kennebunkport, Maine. Bush 43 favored his ranch in Crawford, Texas. Nixon loved his La Casa Pacifica Mansion in San Clemente, California. The Clintons had Martha's Vineyard until Dick Morris, their pollster, told them it was too posh. A variety of presidents used Camp David to unwind. The Obama's favor Hawaii. But what about Abe Lincoln? What did the man that most historians consider America's greatest president do for vacation?

Perched on a hill in a gritty, working class neighborhood of Washington D.C., around the corner from stores with heavily fortified protective grills and an Eritrean Orthodox Church, sits one of the city's most compelling, yet off-the-beaten-track tourist destinations. The Hamptons it is not. It's the Soldiers' Home, which served as the Lincoln family's seasonal "cottage" retreat from 1862-4.

The Lincoln family moved into the Victorian style cottage 150 years ago shortly after the death of their eleven-year-old son Willie, who probably drank contaminated water from the Potomac and caught typhoid fever, one of the great scourges of the era. Like any grieving family, the Lincolns needed a change of scenery -- someplace quiet, away from the bustle, foul air and contagious diseases that plagued crowded D.C.

The family moved into the Soldiers' Home, a house that was built in 1842 for the Washington banking tycoon who founded Riggs Bank. The house is on the grounds of America's first home for retired and disabled, enlisted veterans. When Lincoln moved in there were a few hundred veterans living on the grounds and there were also Union soldiers camping out in tents on the premises. Veterans still live on the grounds today.

Every morning from April or May through November, Lincoln would make the three-mile, 30-minute commute down the hill into D.C. on horseback. His advisors wanted him to make the trip with a cavalry security entourage, but Abe preferred to leave before they arrived, so he could go alone, stopping on the way to chat with soldiers and freed slaves who gave him a real picture of what life was like for ordinary people during the war. Last year, museum staff tried to reenact his horse ride and it took two hours due to traffic and lights.

Continue reading Where was Abe Lincoln's summer home? Hint: it wasn't in the HamptonsWhere was Abe Lincoln's summer home? Hint: it wasn't in the Hamptons originally appeared on Gadling on Fri, 23 Mar 2012 13:00:00 EST. Please see our terms for use of feeds.Permalink | Email this | Comments

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Second Victim Dies from Injuries Sustained in Alaska Avalanche

Haines, AK - A second victim buried when an avalanche swept down upon a heli-skiing group near Haines on Tuesday has died in a Seattle hospital.



(photo: Alaska Heliskiing)
Nick Dodov, 26, of Truckee, Calif., was snowboarding with the group as a client of Alaska Heliskiing when the incident occurred around 11 a.m. on Tuesday morning on the Takhin Ridge, near mile post 33 on the Haines Highway northwest of Haines. Dodov was transported to a hospital in Seattle, Wash., where he was pronounced dead on Wednesday afternoon, according to a dispatch from Alaska State Troopers.
Alaska Heliskiing guide Robert Liberman, 35, of Telluride, Colo., was pronounced dead at the scene on Tuesday. The remaining four members of the backcountry group were not buried by the slide.
Liberman and Dodov are Alaska?s first avalanche deaths this winter.

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