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‘Dark tourism’ is attracting visitors to war zones and sites of atrocities in Israel and Ukraine. Why?

<a href="https://theconversation.com/profiles/juliet-rogers-333488">Juliet Rogers</a>, <a href="https://theconversation.com/institutions/the-university-of-melbourne-722">The University of Melbourne</a> There is a disturbing trend of people travelling to the sadder places of the world: sites of military attacks, war zones and disasters. Dark tourism is now a phenomenon, with <a href="https://dark-tourism.com/">its own website</a> and dedicated tour guides. People visit these places to mourn, or to remember and honour the dead. But sometimes they just want to look, and sometimes they want to delight in the pain of others. Of course, people have long visited places like the <a href="https://www.auschwitz.org/en/visiting/guided-tours-for-individual-visitors/">Auschwitz-Birkenau</a> Memorial, <a href="https://www.911memorial.org/911-faqs">the site of the Twin Towers</a> destroyed in the 9/11 attacks, <a href="https://www.robben-island.org.za/tour-types/">Robben Island Prison</a>, where Nelson Mandela and others spent many years, and more recently, <a href="https://chernobyl-tour.com/english/">the Chernobyl nuclear power plant</a>. But there are more recent destinations, connected to active wars and aggression. Since the <a href="https://www.newsweek.com/2024/10/11/one-year-hamas-oct-attack-israel-northern-border-1961816.html">Hamas military attacks</a> of October 7 2023, in which around 1,200 people were killed and more than 250 taken hostage, celebrities and tourists have visited the related sites of the Nova music festival and the Nir Oz Kibbutz in Palestine/Israel. The kibbutz tours, guided by former residents, allow people to view and be guided through houses of the dead, to be shown photographs and bullet holes. Sderot, the biggest city targeted by Hamas, is offering <a href="https://apnews.com/article/israel-gaza-hamas-oct-7-tourism-sderot-8b21f590c37fa6780bf9190d6bfb62b7">what it describes as “resilience tours”</a>, connecting tourists with October 7 survivors. Similar places are visited <a href="https://wartours.in.ua/2023/02/25/dark-tourism-in-ukraine/">in Ukraine</a>. The “popular” Donbas war tour, for instance, takes visitors to the front lines of the conflict and offers “a firsthand look at the impact of the war on the local population”, introducing them to displaced locals, soldiers and volunteer fighters. There’s also <a href="https://wartours.in.ua/en/">a Kyiv tour</a>, which takes in destroyed military equipment and what remains of missile strikes. <h2>Solidarity tours</h2> These tours have various names, but <a href="https://touringisrael.com/tour/october-7-solidarity-tour/">one Israeli company</a> calls them “solidarity tours”. The idea of solidarity lessens the presumption of voyeurism, or the accusation of ghoulish enjoyment of pain or suffering. It suggests an affinity with those who have died or those who have lost loved ones. But solidarity is a political affiliation too. These tours are not only therapeutic. They are not only about “bearing witness”, as many guides and visitors attest. They are also about solidarity with the struggle. What is this struggle? Genocide scholar Dirk Moses <a href="https://www.bostonreview.net/articles/more-than-genocide/">has written thoughtfully</a> on this after October 7. Colonial states seek not just security, but “permanent security”. This makes them hyper-defensive of their borders. Israel was created as a nation <a href="https://www.pbs.org/wgbh/americanexperience/features/truman-israel/">by the newly formed United Nations</a> in 1947, two years after the end of World War II and in the shadow of the Holocaust: it was an inevitable product of the <a href="https://theconversation.com/a-century-on-the-balfour-declaration-still-shapes-palestinians-everyday-lives-86662">Balfour Declaration</a> (1917) that carved up the Middle East. The creation of the Israeli state turned relationships between Palestinians and Jewish people into borders to navigate and police, producing a line of security to defend. These borders have long been sites of humiliation and denigration toward Palestinians, whose homelands have been now occupied for many generations. Israeli Defense Force soldiers themselves <a href="https://www.breakingthesilence.org.il/testimonies/videos/29690">have spoken passionately</a> about the brutal and arbitrary violence that occurs there, <a href="https://link.springer.com/article/10.1007/s10978-016-9195-y">including “creative punishments”</a>. These were the borders that protected the sites targeted by Hamas. The Nova music festival was five kilometres from one of these borders. For many Israelis, any breach of those borders, any sense of loss of control, courts the terrors of the past. It raises the spectre of the Holocaust: the destruction of European Jewry, the loss of sovereignty over family, home, and over life, the loss of millions of lives, again. For Israel, as for any colonial state, security is a permanent aspiration, in Moses’s terms. The stakes are high. Dark tourism, seen in this light, is not only solidarity with those who have lost loved ones on October 7. It is solidarity with the border, with those who have lost that security. And that loss is profound, traumatic and, at least psychologically, can provoke violent reactions in an effort to have the borders – geographical and psychological – reasserted. <h2>‘I stand with you’</h2> Transitional justice mechanisms such as the truth commissions in <a href="https://www.justice.gov.za/trc/">South Africa</a>, <a href="https://www.usip.org/publications/2002/02/truth-commission-timor-leste-east-timor">Timor Leste</a> and <a href="https://www.usip.org/publications/1983/12/truth-commission-argentina">Argentina</a> apply legal frameworks to heal nations from the trauma of crimes against humanity. These mechanisms are one choice after experiences of mass violence. Ironically, their catchphrase is Nunca Mas (never again), which was the title of the 1984 report by Argentina’s <a href="https://www.usip.org/publications/1983/12/truth-commission-argentina">National Commission on the Dissappeared</a>. Permanent security of the kind Israel is seeking is another choice – and its catchphrase might well be the same. Never again will Israel’s borders be breached, never again will Jewish life be subjected to mass destruction with impunity. This is what solidarity can mean: not only grieving alongside those who have suffered, but attachment to an identity and borders, which are reinforced through participation. “I stand with you” is perhaps what the visits are for. I stand with you on this land, at this time, and perhaps for all time. But stand beside you in what now? In grief, yes. But also in rage, in pain, in vengeance and, for some, in making Israel great again. The hashtag #standwithus accompanies some calls for visits to the October 7 sites, for this form of tourism. It means stand with us at Israel’s border. From there, you can hear the sound of bombs falling: <a href="https://inews.co.uk/news/world/israel-7-october-massacre-sites-dark-draw-tourists-3101715">in Gaza</a>, a place where no solidarity tour will go. Yet. <h2>Memorials, grief and understanding</h2> Dark tourism is not always for those associated with the events. Some people visit sites of disaster and loss because they want to understand the greater sadnesses of the world and its formidable brutalities. Some want to show their respect to others. It’s not dissimilar to visiting memorials. Memorials collate the disparate parts of grief and reflect it as public memory. They offer fragments of historical pain that can be borne in more than one mind, to create a shared reality. In Pretoria, South Africa, a memorial called <a href="https://www.freedompark.co.za/">Freedom Park</a> depicts the names of every person who died in every war fought in South Africa, as well as those South Africans who died in the world wars. The names are written on a wall that circles the park. It is impossibly long and circular, and you cannot measure it with your own stride. It is disorientating and interminable, like grief. In this memorial-metaphor, you are unable to comprehend – and at the same time are awash with – a history of loss, represented by the names. The walls contain you, and then they cannot. Grief and even solidarity is not always about comprehension or containment. Sometimes it is about proximity. Sometimes, it is about sitting with not knowing. Sometimes, it is about solidarity with something that cannot be made sense of. Trauma, psychoanalysis tells us, is an experience of what we cannot assimilate. If you sit in proximity to people and places where traumatic events have happened, you can learn something. If you see the bullet holes at a site of loss, you can comprehend something. But not everything. Bullet holes in a wall are the very definition of a partial story. People visit memorials and sites of loss to learn and to unlearn. Dark tourism has this quality. <h2>Obscenity of understanding</h2> In my field, criminology and trauma studies, we try to understand why people do the violent things they do. Holocaust filmmaker and commentator <a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/26303924">Claude Lanzmann has said</a> we must not indulge in what he calls the “obscenity of the project of understanding” in relation to Nazi perpetrators of the Holocaust. He regards curiosity about the minds of perpetrators and the rationale for violence as a violence in itself. Of the Holocaust, he says you cannot ask “Why were the Jews killed?”. It is the result that matters. But it is also the reaction that matters. The state of Israel itself – permanent security and its attendant horrors – is part of that reaction. But understanding can influence the reaction to violence, and contribute something to the promise of Never Again. Understanding allows us to hold more than one story in mind. It allows us to do more than <a href="https://www.ochaopt.org/">count the more than 1,200 killed</a> in Israel, or the 41,689 (plus) Palestinians killed in Gaza. Bodies are always more than numbers. But explanation is one thing, justification another. Justification is best left to the courts, international or otherwise, after the violence has ceased. It is hard to hear about dark tourism in Israel/Palestine and in Ukraine and try to understand it. It is hard not to condemn the tourists. But we are quick to condemn at this time – and even quicker to demand others do the same. Perhaps we should not be so righteous, and we should resist the urge to easily condemn, from our homes in what <a href="https://www.mup.com.au/books/after-mabo-paperback-softback">Tim Rowse has called</a> the “ongoing colonial encounter sometimes called ‘Australia’”. Indigenous people here speak of the lack of memorials on this land. But every bordered property is a site for dark tourism in Australia. Dark tourism is the effort to seek out destinations of violence and devastation, but it is not hard to see genocide from our front door in this country.<img style="border: none !important; box-shadow: none !important; margin: 0 !important; max-height: 1px !important; max-width: 1px !important; min-height: 1px !important; min-width: 1px !important; opacity: 0 !important; outline: none !important; padding: 0 !important;" src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/240119/count.gif?distributor=republish-lightbox-basic" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" /> <a href="https://theconversation.com/profiles/juliet-rogers-333488">Juliet Rogers</a>, Associate Professor Criminology, <a href="https://theconversation.com/institutions/the-university-of-melbourne-722">The University of Melbourne</a> Image credits: Shutterstock This article is republished from <a href="https://theconversation.com">The Conversation</a> under a Creative Commons license. Read the <a href="https://theconversation.com/dark-tourism-is-attracting-visitors-to-war-zones-and-sites-of-atrocities-in-israel-and-ukraine-why-240119">original article</a>.

Travel Trouble

What are heart rate zones, and how can you incorporate them into your exercise routine?

<a href="https://theconversation.com/profiles/hunter-bennett-1053061">Hunter Bennett</a>, <a href="https://theconversation.com/institutions/university-of-south-australia-1180">University of South Australia</a> If you spend a lot of time exploring fitness content online, you might have come across the concept of heart rate zones. Heart rate zone training has become more popular in recent years partly because of the boom in wearable technology which, among other functions, allows people to easily track their heart rates. <a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC6537749/">Heart rate zones</a> reflect different levels of intensity during aerobic exercise. They’re most often based on a percentage of your maximum heart rate, which is the highest number of beats your heart can achieve per minute. But what are the different heart rate zones, and how can you use these zones to optimise your workout? <h2>The three-zone model</h2> While there are several models used to describe heart rate zones, the most common model in the scientific literature is the <a href="https://journals.humankinetics.com/view/journals/ijspp/9/1/article-p100.xml">three-zone model</a>, where the zones may be categorised as follows: <ul> <li> zone 1: 55%–82% of maximum heart rate </li> <li> zone 2: 82%–87% of maximum heart rate </li> <li> zone 3: 87%–97% of maximum heart rate. </li> </ul> If you’re not sure what your maximum heart rate is, it can be calculated using <a href="https://www.jacc.org/doi/full/10.1016/S0735-1097%2800%2901054-8">this equation</a>: 208 – (0.7 × age in years). For example, I’m 32 years old. 208 – (0.7 x 32) = 185.6, so my predicted maximum heart rate is around 186 beats per minute. There are also other models used to describe heart rate zones, such as the <a href="https://journals.humankinetics.com/view/journals/ijspp/14/8/article-p1151.xml">five-zone model</a> (as its name implies, this one has five distinct zones). These <a href="https://journals.humankinetics.com/view/journals/ijspp/9/1/article-p100.xml">models</a> largely describe the same thing and can mostly be used interchangeably. <h2>What do the different zones involve?</h2> The three zones are based around a person’s <a href="https://link.springer.com/article/10.2165/00007256-200939060-00003">lactate threshold</a>, which describes the point at which exercise intensity moves from being predominantly aerobic, to predominantly anaerobic. Aerobic exercise <a href="https://www.healthline.com/health/fitness-exercise/difference-between-aerobic-and-anaerobic">uses oxygen</a> to help our muscles keep going, ensuring we can continue for a long time without fatiguing. Anaerobic exercise, however, uses stored energy to fuel exercise. Anaerobic exercise also accrues metabolic byproducts (such as lactate) that increase fatigue, meaning we can only produce energy anaerobically for a short time. On average your lactate threshold tends to sit around <a href="https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/full/10.2147/OAJSM.S141657">85% of your maximum heart rate</a>, although this varies from person to person, and can be <a href="https://journals.physiology.org/doi/full/10.1152/japplphysiol.00043.2013">higher in athletes</a>. In the three-zone model, each zone loosely describes <a href="https://www.frontiersin.org/journals/physiology/articles/10.3389/fphys.2015.00295/full">one of three types of training</a>. Zone 1 represents high-volume, low-intensity exercise, usually performed for long periods and at an easy pace, well below lactate threshold. Examples include jogging or cycling at a gentle pace. Zone 2 is threshold training, also known as tempo training, a moderate intensity training method performed for moderate durations, at (or around) lactate threshold. This could be running, rowing or cycling at a speed where it’s difficult to speak full sentences. Zone 3 mostly describes methods of high-intensity interval training, which are performed for shorter durations and at intensities above lactate threshold. For example, any circuit style workout that has you exercising hard for 30 seconds then resting for 30 seconds would be zone 3. <h2>Striking a balance</h2> To maximise endurance performance, you need to strike a balance between doing enough training to elicit positive changes, while avoiding over-training, injury and burnout. While zone 3 is thought to produce the largest improvements in <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S1440244018309198">maximal oxygen uptake</a> – one of the best predictors of endurance performance and overall health – it’s also the most tiring. This means you can only perform so much of it before it becomes too much. Training in different heart rate zones improves <a href="https://citeseerx.ist.psu.edu/document?repid=rep1&type=pdf&doi=38c07018c0636422d9d5a77316216efb3c10164f">slightly different physiological qualities</a>, and so by spending time in each zone, you ensure a <a href="https://link.springer.com/article/10.1007/bf00426304">variety of benefits</a> for performance and health. <h2>So how much time should you spend in each zone?</h2> Most <a href="https://www.frontiersin.org/articles/10.3389/fspor.2023.1258585/full">elite endurance athletes</a>, including runners, rowers, and even cross-country skiers, tend to spend most of their training (around 80%) in zone 1, with the rest split between zones 2 and 3. Because elite endurance athletes train a lot, most of it needs to be in zone 1, otherwise they risk injury and burnout. For example, some runners accumulate <a href="https://journals.humankinetics.com/view/journals/ijsnem/22/5/article-p392.xml?content=pdf">more than 250 kilometres per week</a>, which would be impossible to recover from if it was all performed in zone 2 or 3. Of course, most people are not professional athletes. The <a href="https://www.who.int/news-room/fact-sheets/detail/physical-activity">World Health Organization</a> recommends adults aim for 150–300 minutes of moderate intensity exercise per week, or 75–150 minutes of vigorous exercise per week. If you look at this in the context of heart rate zones, you could consider zone 1 training as moderate intensity, and zones 2 and 3 as vigorous. Then, you can use heart rate zones to make sure you’re exercising to meet these guidelines. <h2>What if I don’t have a heart rate monitor?</h2> If you don’t have access to a heart rate tracker, that doesn’t mean you can’t use heart rate zones to guide your training. The three heart rate zones discussed in this article can also be prescribed based on feel using a simple <a href="https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1111/j.1600-0838.2004.00418.x">10-point scale</a>, where 0 indicates no effort, and 10 indicates the maximum amount of effort you can produce. With this system, zone 1 aligns with a 4 or less out of 10, zone 2 with 4.5 to 6.5 out of 10, and zone 3 as a 7 or higher out of 10. Heart rate zones are not a perfect measure of exercise intensity, but can be a useful tool. And if you don’t want to worry about heart rate zones at all, that’s also fine. The most important thing is to simply get moving.<img style="border: none !important; box-shadow: none !important; margin: 0 !important; max-height: 1px !important; max-width: 1px !important; min-height: 1px !important; min-width: 1px !important; opacity: 0 !important; outline: none !important; padding: 0 !important;" src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/228520/count.gif?distributor=republish-lightbox-basic" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" /> <a href="https://theconversation.com/profiles/hunter-bennett-1053061">Hunter Bennett</a>, Lecturer in Exercise Science, <a href="https://theconversation.com/institutions/university-of-south-australia-1180">University of South Australia</a> Image credits: Getty Images This article is republished from <a href="https://theconversation.com">The Conversation</a> under a Creative Commons license. Read the <a href="https://theconversation.com/what-are-heart-rate-zones-and-how-can-you-incorporate-them-into-your-exercise-routine-228520">original article</a>.

Body

People in the world’s ‘blue zones’ live longer – their diet could hold the key to why

<a href="https://theconversation.com/profiles/justin-roberts-1176632">Justin Roberts</a>, <a href="https://theconversation.com/institutions/anglia-ruskin-university-1887">Anglia Ruskin University</a>; <a href="https://theconversation.com/profiles/joseph-lillis-1505087">Joseph Lillis</a>, <a href="https://theconversation.com/institutions/anglia-ruskin-university-1887">Anglia Ruskin University</a>, and <a href="https://theconversation.com/profiles/mark-cortnage-438941">Mark Cortnage</a>, <a href="https://theconversation.com/institutions/anglia-ruskin-university-1887">Anglia Ruskin University</a> Ageing is an inevitable part of life, which may explain our <a href="https://time.com/4672969/why-do-people-want-to-live-so-long/">strong fascination</a> with the <a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC2726954">quest for longevity</a>. The allure of <a href="https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/26566891/">eternal youth</a> drives a <a href="https://www.alliedmarketresearch.com/longevity-and-anti-senescence-therapy-market-A14010">multi-billion pound industry</a> ranging from anti-ageing products, supplements and <a href="https://www.everydayhealth.com/diet-nutrition/longevity-diet">diets</a> for those hoping to extend their lifespan. f you look back to the turn of the 20th century, average life expectancy in the UK was around 46 years. Today, it’s closer to <a href="https://population.un.org/wpp/">82 years</a>. We are in fact <a href="https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/27706136/">living longer than ever before</a>, possibly due to medical advancements and improved <a href="https://www.health.org.uk/publications/reports/mortality-and-life-expectancy-trends-in-the-uk">living and working conditions</a>. But living longer has also come at a price. We’re now seeing higher rates of <a href="https://www.who.int/data/gho/data/themes/mortality-and-global-health-estimates/ghe-leading-causes-of-death">chronic and degenerative diseases</a> – with heart disease consistently topping the list. So while we’re fascinated by what may help us live longer, maybe we should be more interested in being healthier for longer. Improving our “<a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4632858/">healthy life expectancy</a>” remains a global challenge. Interestingly, certain locations around the world have been discovered where there are a high proportion of centenarians who display remarkable physical and mental health. The <a href="https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/15489066/">AKEA study of Sardinia, Italy</a>, as example, identified a “blue zone” (named because it was marked with blue pen), where there was a higher number of locals living in the central-eastern mountainous areas who had reached their 100th birthday compared with the wider Sardinian community. This longevity hotspot has since been expanded, and now includes several other areas around the world which also have greater numbers of longer-living, healthy people. Alongside Sardinia, these blue zones are now <a href="https://www.netflix.com/gb/title/81214929">popularly recognised</a> as: Ikaria, Greece; Okinawa, Japan; Nicoya, Costa Rica; and Loma Linda, California. Other than their long lifespans, people living in these zones also appear to share certain other commonalities, which centre around being <a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC3874460">part of a community</a>, having a <a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4224996/">life purpose</a>, eating <a href="https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/33514872/">nutritious, healthy foods</a>, keeping <a href="https://www.nature.com/articles/s41398-021-01735-7">stress levels</a> low and undertaking purposeful daily <a href="https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/30202288/">exercise or physical tasks</a>. Their longevity could also relate to their <a href="https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/9010380/">environment</a>, being mostly rural (or less polluted), or because of <a href="https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/22253498/">specific longevity genes</a>. However, studies indicate genetics may only account for <a href="https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/8786073">around 20-25% of longevity</a> – meaning a person’s lifespan is a complex interaction between lifestyle and genetic factors, which contribute to a long and healthy life. <h2>Is the secret in our diet?</h2> When it comes to diet, each blue zone has its own approach – so one specific food or nutrient does not explain the remarkable longevity observed. But interestingly, a diet rich in <a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC3662288">plant foods</a> (such as locally-grown vegetables, fruits and legumes) does appear to be reasonably consistent across these zones. For instance, the Seventh-day Adventists of Loma Linda are <a href="https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/10641813/">predominately vegetarian</a>. For centenarians in Okinawa, <a href="https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/20234038/">high intakes of flavonoids</a> (a chemical compound typically found in plants) from purple sweet potatoes, soy and vegetables, have been linked with <a href="https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/11710359/">better cardiovascular health</a> – including lower cholesterol levels and lower incidences of stroke and heart disease. In Nicoya, consumption of locally produced rice and beans has been associated with <a href="https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/34444746/">longer telomere length</a>. Telomeres are the structural part at the end of our chromosomes which protect our genetic material. Our telomeres get shorter each time a cell divides – so get progressively shorter as we age. Certain <a href="https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/21102320/">lifestyle factors</a> (such as smoking and poor diet) can also shorten telomere length. It’s thought that telomere length acts as a <a href="https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/31728493/">biomarker of ageing</a> – so having longer telomeres could, in part, be linked with longevity. But a plant-based diet isn’t the only secret. In Sardinia, for example, meat and fish is consumed in moderation in addition to locally grown vegetables and <a href="https://journalofethnicfoods.biomedcentral.com/articles/10.1186/s42779-022-00152-5">traditional foods</a> such as acorn breads, pane carasau (a sourdough flatbread), honey and soft cheeses. Also observed in several blue zone areas is the inclusion of <a href="https://www.jacc.org/doi/10.1016/j.jacc.2021.10.041">olive oil</a>, <a href="https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/33669360/">wine</a> (in moderation – around 1-2 glasses a day), as well as <a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC3830687/">tea</a>. All of these contain powerful antioxidants which may help <a href="https://ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC10049696/">protect our cells</a> from damage <a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC6273542/">as we age</a>. Perhaps then, it’s a combination of the protective effects of various nutrients in the diets of these centenarians, which explains their exceptional longevity. Another striking observation from these longevity hot spots is that meals are typically <a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC7232892">freshly prepared at home</a>. Traditional blue zone diets also don’t appear to contain <a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC6538973/">ultra-processed foods</a>, fast foods or sugary drinks which may <a href="https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/32330232/">accelerate ageing</a>. So maybe it’s just as important to consider what these longer-living populations are not doing, as much as what they are doing. There also appears to be a pattern of eating until 80% full (in other words partial <a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC9036399/">caloric reduction</a>. This could be important in also supporting how our cells deal with damage as we age, which could mean a longer life. Many of the factors making up these blue zone diets – primarily plant-based and natural whole foods – are associated with <a href="https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/35706591/">lower risk of chronic diseases</a> such as <a href="https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/28728684/">heart disease</a> and <a href="https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/37589638/">cancer</a>. Not only could such diets contribute to a <a href="https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/37836577/">longer, healthier life</a>, but could support a more <a href="https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/33397404/">diverse gut microbiome</a>, which is also associated with healthy ageing. Perhaps then we can learn something from these remarkable centenarians. While diet is only one part of the bigger picture when it comes to longevity, it’s an area we can do something about. In fact, it might just be at the heart of improving not only the quality of our health, but the quality of how we age.<img style="border: none !important; box-shadow: none !important; margin: 0 !important; max-height: 1px !important; max-width: 1px !important; min-height: 1px !important; min-width: 1px !important; opacity: 0 !important; outline: none !important; padding: 0 !important;" src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/221463/count.gif?distributor=republish-lightbox-basic" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" /> <a href="https://theconversation.com/profiles/justin-roberts-1176632">Justin Roberts</a>, Professor of Nutritional Physiology, <a href="https://theconversation.com/institutions/anglia-ruskin-university-1887">Anglia Ruskin University</a>; <a href="https://theconversation.com/profiles/joseph-lillis-1505087">Joseph Lillis</a>, PhD Candidate in Nutritional Physiology, <a href="https://theconversation.com/institutions/anglia-ruskin-university-1887">Anglia Ruskin University</a>, and <a href="https://theconversation.com/profiles/mark-cortnage-438941">Mark Cortnage</a>, Senior Lecturer in Public Health and Nutrition, <a href="https://theconversation.com/institutions/anglia-ruskin-university-1887">Anglia Ruskin University</a> Image credits: Getty Images This article is republished from <a href="https://theconversation.com">The Conversation</a> under a Creative Commons license. Read the <a href="https://theconversation.com/people-in-the-worlds-blue-zones-live-longer-their-diet-could-hold-the-key-to-why-221463">original article</a>.

Food & Wine

Holidaying in a disaster zone isn't as crazy as it seems

Holidaying in a disaster zone might seem crazy, but “volunteer tourism” can actually help communities recover from natural disasters. And if can offer a unique and rewarding experience for volunteers, if done carefully. When disaster hits a tourist destination – whether fire, flood, cyclone or earthquake – tourists usually stay away, leaving communities to deal with a loss of income on top of the costs of repair and recovery. On the other hand, people who feel a natural curiosity, as well as a natural desire to help, are keen for experiences where they can interact with locals and make a difference. This “volunteer tourism” should not be confused with “disaster tourism” in which tourists immediately travel to a scene not to help but to look. Nepal shows what can be done We examined volunteer tourism in Nepal in the wake of the April 2015 earthquake that killed nearly 9,000 people and injured nearly 22,000. We found that when it was done in an ethical manner that considered local conditions and the community, it could aid recovery and resilience. It is important that the process be controlled locally and that the invitation from locals be genuine. It is also important that volunteer tourists be prepared to engage in work that mainstream tourists would not. Our study, <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S0160738319301598">Engaging volunteer tourism in post-disaster recovery in Nepal</a>, has just been published in the Annals of Tourism Research. In the four months that followed the Nepal earthquake, international tourism more than halved. Initially most relief organisations asked international volunteers not to come unless they had specific expertise, such as medical skills, building skills, or experience responding to emergencies. Then the Pacific Asia Travel Association and Nepalese tourism industry leaders worked together to produce the report of the <a href="http://pata.org.np/wp-content/uploads/2016/06/A-Report-on-PATA-Nepal-Tourism-Rapid-Recovery-Taskforce.pdf">Nepal Rapid Recovery Task Force</a>, running workshops with more than 200 tourism industry leaders and professionals. Volunteer tourism led the way back The strategy they came up with prioritised potential tourism regrowth markets, including volunteer tourism. Nepal relaxed conditions to allow international tourists to volunteer on a wide range of projects including rebuilding homes and schools, interning in hospitals, supporting non-government organisations and reestablishing sustainable agriculture. It helped that Nepal was set up for it. It had already hosted organisations offering short-term travellers the opportunity to teach English and to work on health projects. In 2015 and 2016 it hosted three global celebrities whose widely-publicised visits raised the profile and popular appeal of Nepal, especially to volunteer tourists. In May 2015, Hollywood actress Susan Sarandon visited Nepal and actively promoted volunteer tourism to the North American market. In mid-2015 Hong Kong based actor Jackie Chan visited and encouraged Chinese tourists and volunteers to come to Nepal. In March 2016, Prince Harry (the younger son of Prince Charles) spent two weeks in Nepal engaged in volunteer programs. Nepal’s tourism recovery since then has been remarkable. In 2015, the year of the earthquake, just under 600,000 international tourists visited. By 2018 the number had reached an all time record of almost 1.2 million. In 2019 it grew further. Volunteer tourism drove the recovery. The Nepal Association of Tour and Travel Agents says almost one third of the tours booked to Nepal in the two years after the earthquake comprised groups who combined tourism experiences with volunteering or philanthropy. It needs to meet local needs In times of national crisis, the priority of a government has to be restoring the welfare of its people. However, the process by which that happens is multifaceted. In destinations that rely on tourism as a primary source of foreign investment, it can make sense to build tourism into the recovery process. A focus on tourism need not detract from other critical processes such as providing health care and emergency services, clearing debris and construction. But that’s easier said than done. Natural disasters by their very nature sow confusion, severely damage infrastructure and impose great strains on emergency management and administration. Volunteer tourism won’t work everywhere, but where conditions are right, international visitors can speed rather than slow recovery.<img style="border: none !important; box-shadow: none !important; margin: 0 !important; max-height: 1px !important; max-width: 1px !important; min-height: 1px !important; min-width: 1px !important; opacity: 0 !important; outline: none !important; padding: 0 !important; text-shadow: none !important;" src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/128841/count.gif?distributor=republish-lightbox-basic" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" /> <a href="https://theconversation.com/profiles/david-beirman-4852">David Beirman</a>, Senior Lecturer, Tourism, <a href="http://theconversation.com/institutions/university-of-technology-sydney-936">University of Technology Sydney</a>; <a href="https://theconversation.com/profiles/simone-faulkner-911263">Simone Faulkner</a>, , <a href="http://theconversation.com/institutions/university-of-technology-sydney-936">University of Technology Sydney</a>, and <a href="https://theconversation.com/profiles/stephen-wearing-7081">Stephen Wearing</a>, Associate Professor, Management, <a href="http://theconversation.com/institutions/university-of-technology-sydney-936">University of Technology Sydney</a> This article is republished from <a href="http://theconversation.com">The Conversation</a> under a Creative Commons license. Read the <a href="https://theconversation.com/holidaying-in-a-disaster-zone-isnt-as-crazy-as-it-might-seem-128841">original article</a>.

Travel Trouble

What I learned as a hairdresser in a war zone

I don’t think my life is much different from anyone else’s, except that I decided to be a hairdresser in a war zone. When I first arrived in Kabul, I felt like I had been transported to biblical times – only most of the people had guns and I only had my scissors. It wasn't until I spent time in Afghanistan that I learned how powerful my trade of hairdressing was. The minute I pulled out my scissors and cape, I felt like the most popular kid in class – everyone wanted a haircut or colour. People like to think that because women are covered, they are plain – no makeup and hair undone. Let me tell you – that is the opposite of the truth. I have always gone that extra mile with my own hair and makeup, but these women made me look like a Plain Jane. One lady told me how she drove 12 hours over the Khyber Pass to Pakistan – dodging the Taliban the entire way – just to get foils and a good haircut. The Taliban had forced the salons to close and a few had gone underground. I was stunned at the risk these women took just so they could have their hair done for a wedding party – a custom that had always been a strong part of the culture but was now against the law. It was when I walked into that first salon that I knew there was no turning back. I was going to do something for my sister hairdressers. I realised that hairdressing was a fantastic portable skill, one that was perfect for Afghanistan, and one that could give women choices and a way to feed their family. This was a skill that could be done in or out of the home, and it would be a sanctuary for women only. No man could control – or even step foot into – the salon. It would be such an empowering place for the women to be free. Opening the Kabul Beauty School was one of the most rewarding but difficult things I have done in my life. In the beginning, when I was working with so many young Afghan women at the school, I felt so overwhelmed by the traumas that each of these girls had endured for so many years. But on the other hand, I saw the strength and power that each of these young women seemed to have been born with. I was horrified when I heard about arranged marriages at the age of twelve, how so many had to flee their homes for years due to the Taliban, and about those who had to stop going to school in fourth grade because of war. I was amazed at the core strength of these women. I never had the intention of being a writer, but I always wrote. I kept daily notes and journals so that my head could purge some of the information it was gathering each day. Often, I felt that I was on overload, I was out of my comfort zone, I was out of my element, and each day, I was listening to a new and difficult story that one of the girls needed to share. The more I wrote, the more I began to understand that these women didn't need my pity, that we really are all the same. Like them, I am a woman, I am a mother, and I am a daughter. When I realised that, it all came together and the fun began. When I stopped looking at them as poor, tragic Afghan women, and instead as women who had gone through lots of stuff and who now wanted to move forward – just like most of us – everything changed. I decided I wanted the world to see these beautiful women as I did. I wanted them to be more than a news clip or a sound bite. I wanted the world to see them through my eyes. Afghanistan is a complicated place, and so when I left, I felt shattered. I had really thought that I would spend the rest of my life in Kabul; I never saw myself moving back to the United States. I missed the girls and my old life so badly, and spent the next few years grieving the loss of my Afghan family. Because I didn't want to let go of Afghanistan, the only way I could keep it close was to keep writing about it. I told my agent that I really wanted to write another book, but this time I wanted to write fiction. I wanted to write happy endings. I figured if you put it in writing, just maybe it will happen in real life. Also, I had to prove to my kids that I wasn't a one-hit wonder. I have learned so much about myself while writing my five books. I’ve learned that I am a storyteller first and a writer second. I love the process of developing a book. I love how the characters come alive and become your best friends, and how some turn into people you never want to see again. Writing is my best therapy, it is my best friend, it is a true companion. Deborah Rodriguez’s new book, The Zanzibar Wife is available now (Penguin Random House, RRP $32.99). Written by Deborah Rodriguez. Republished with permission of <a href="https://www.wyza.com.au/articles/lifestyle/wyza-life/what-i-learned-as-a-hairdresser-in-a-war-zone.aspx">Wyza.com.au.</a>

Art

Why you should push your comfort zone (and take risks in life)

We all have a comfort zone and we're told, at least occasionally, we need to break out of it if we are to achieve our potential. Whether that's mountain climbing, moving to a new country or walking over hot fiery coals – or, for that matter, stand-up comedy, performance art or skydiving – getting out of the safety of everyday life and using elevated stress levels to attain success is a formula that those who do it for a living swear by. A comfort zone is succinctly defined by American writer Judith M. Bardwick in her book Danger in the Comfort Zone as "a behavioural state where a person operates in an anxiety-neutral position", and academic Andrew Jarden says breaking out of that state can be a good thing. Jarden, head of research at the Wellbeing and Resilience Centre at the South Australian Health and Medical Research Institute; and former senior lecturer in psychology at the Auckland University of Technology, says: "There is a link between failure and wellbeing known as 'positive failure' - essentially, [considering] the good things that can come from failure. Does it give you strength or build character? It can give you purpose, it's about personal growth and development. "[Positive failure is] good for you because it means you're pushing boundaries. If you're not failing [or at risk of failing], you're not really out of your comfort zone. "Also, most people don't like boredom. It's good to push ourselves." Performer Eli Joseph (stage name Victor Victorious) has been on the circuit for six years, displaying a range of artistic talents including burlesque, stilt walking and aerial acrobatics. Currently studying circus full time, he's called on to try new things like ventriloquism, regularly pushing himself out of his comfort zone and throughout his career he's used failure as a tool. "Without failure, there's no satisfaction in our successes. The harder I've had to work at learning movements or choreography, the more I enjoy being able to complete them, particularly when I'm upside down or dangling at heights. I take no pleasure or satisfaction in failure, it can hurt, it can be embarrassing, but every time I fail in a task, I'm one step closer to succeeding." As well as the ability to conceptualise failure, motivation is also a key aspect. For comedian, environmental scientist and early childhood educator, Lee Ray, it's the feeling of triumph that keeps her going. "Stand-up comedy is the most terrifying thing I do [...] I always spend the time leading into being on stage wondering how the hell I got myself into this situation and trying to think of legit ways that I can possibly get out of it "When you get off stage after a good show, the payoff for all of the nerves and terror is the euphoric release of all of those feel-good chemicals in your brain. 'Oh yeah, I remember why, that feels great'. I'm sure it is addictive." Riki Kees Jongenburger, a skydiving cameraman based in Nelson's Abel Tasman area, bikes, surfs, snowboards and rock climbs. He previously spent seven years as a nomad, visiting 19 countries and 32 cities and is building a residence off the grid with his partner of 10 years. "I think living off grid is great. It's a challenge, but I have learnt a lot of new skills [...] We have awesome friends and family who have helped us a lot. "I guess my competitive drive pushes me to better myself [...] I come from a family of three boys so I am pretty competitive." While our environment, such as growing up with ambitious siblings, does shape us, Jarden suggests that it's only a fraction of our being and that we have a greater power over who we are than we realise. "Everyone has a different recipe, but we can speculate 50 per cent of 'wellbeing' is down to genetics and the lottery of having parents who are happy and/or more likely to do things that push themselves. Forty per cent is up to the choices you make. Ten per cent is external factors, such as wealth or the country you were born in. So, most of it is actually in your control." Exploring your personal limits leads to new skills and a sense of accomplishment - but is everyone capable of doing so? Jongenburger, Joseph and Ray all agree, to varying degrees, that they are extroverts and Jarden confirms that this trait, as well as being open to new things, is prevalent in those who push themselves. Ray herself says while she loves what her profession has taught her, "it's not for everyone though, you do need to be quite robust". However, given that roughly half of our social-genetic make-up is made up of free will, such as choosing loyal friends and supportive partners, Jarden additionally says people can, and should, develop themselves to take more risks. "[It gets harder as we get older] because as we age we gain greater insight into our strengths and our values (what is important to us), and we basically get better at knowing and getting what we want and is important to us. "[People should] become their own experiment. Take a scientific approach to experimentation on the self. Develop the trait of curiosity in particular. "However, you need to factor in the risks and these need to be managed – and these need to be non-life threatening to yourself and/or others." Written by Janan Jay. First appeared on <a href="http://www.stuff.co.nz/" target="_blank">Stuff.co.nz</a>.

Mind

Dilemma: Child-free zone on flights

Like a great many people I flew abroad on holiday this year at an uncivilised hour, cursing my miserliness. In darkest February it made prudent sense to book the cheapest 5am flights to and from Greece. Scroll forward to August, and rousing bleary-eyed children out of bed at 1am, half-dressing and hustling them into a cab seemed the height of penny-pinching insanity. "Stop sobbing with exhaustion," I told the weepy seven-year-old or maybe it was my husband. "We can always sleep on the plane, despite our cheapskate airline's best efforts to make their stripped-down seats substantially less inviting than Old Sparky." So we boarded, strapped ourselves in and I nodded off to the sound of loud crying. Did I say loud? I meant ear-splitting. No, make that atom-splitting. Only another parent can understand how this is possible, but once I'd established said crying wasn't emanating from anyone in my family, ergo not my problem, I switched off. Just like that. Don't hate me. I drifted blissfully away feeling nothing more than a vague sense of there-but-for-the-grace-of-God sympathy for Some Other Poor Mother, hushing and shushing, pacing and apologising. We've all been there, deflecting the slings and arrows of outraged passengers who regard a crying baby as an infringement of their human rights. Just this week, mother-of-four Nicola Colenso posted details of an on-board altercation with a fellow traveller who shouted "Shut that child up" when her very obviously disabled eight-year-old daughter, Yasmin, was wailing in distress. Yet the passenger, a woman in her twenties continued to harangue the parents and scream at the girl, who was taken to hospital after disembarkation. <img width="496" height="280" src="https://oversixtydev.blob.core.windows.net/media/28145/child-free-airlines_496x280.jpg" alt="Child -free -airlines" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"/> Image credit: Facebook / Nicola Colenso The post - and photograph - of the offending, offensive traveller have since gone viral. While few would actively engage in a fracas, there is an alarming groundswell of opinion that all children are a nuisance on flights. Eamonn Holmes, presenter of This Morning and a father of four, then sparked controversy by complaining that he "hates" being seated next to a child on a plane and he is all in favour of child-free zones and entire flights so he can sleep or grumble in peace. Personally I'd be happy to pay a premium not to sit next to a grumpy telly presenter. And I have no doubt there probably is moolah to be made from charging curmugeons top dollar to fly free of children, but - sorry to sound like the sort of prol who has to turn right on a plane - isn't that why business class was invented? Anyway, a survey in 2014 by the booking website LateDeals.co.uk revealed that 70 per cent of people would like to see child-free areas introduced in planes. This would take the form of compartments on long-haul flights and presumably for short hops staff would just pop the babies in the hold. It might make for a quiet night but it would be polarising. In recent years a schism the size of the San Andreas Fault has developed between those with and those without children. There's deep frustration over "family-friendly" working practices that discriminate against the child-free and growing calls for "me-ternity" leave, so those who don't have a baby can pursue what they see as equally legitimate life goals. Even making polite allowances for children has become a rarity; this year the Mortimore family from Exeter was ordered off a plane after passengers refused to move seats so the children could sit with an adult, as is the requirement. The carrier EasyJet gave them a full holiday refund plus extras, but I can't help wondering how a planeful of people could have been so bloody-minded and heartless. I once boarded a flight where seats weren't allocated, carrying my younger daughter who must have been about three years old. As I stood around waiting for help, the flight attendant eventually had the brass neck to tell me that there was no seats left together. Did I shout? Did I kick up an unholy fuss? Did I go begging round the aisles for someone to bunch up? No I did not. I beamed in fake delight, held my by now shrieking daughter aloft and said "Lovely. Now could you please explain to her why she can't sit next to her mummy?" As if by magic, two seats were found. One passenger was visibly disgruntled at having to move, but four years on, I'm sure she's got over it, the mean old boot. There's something about air travel that brings out pettiness in people and prompts them to lose their social inhibitions, as attested by the Facebook passenger shaming page, which is full of unspeakable activities and well worth a look if you've ever feeling misanthropic and have a phobia about stranger's feet. As for air rage, it's on the rise, but interestingly it isn't brought about by mewling infants but economic segregation. According to a piece I recently read in The Economist (while travelling steerage), Harvard Business School has discovered that economy travellers are four times more likely to throw a tantrum if there's a first class cabin on board. A total of 84 per cent of incidents happen in the cheap seats - another reason why child-free compartments are not a good idea. If Joe Public gets tetchy at the sight of privileged people drinking Champagne at 35,000 feet, imagine how cross we'll feel seeing smug-faced Eamonn Holmes snoozing away in his soundproofed sleeping pod? What’s your take? Do you think it’s time to introduce a child-free zone on airplanes? Share your thoughts in the comments section, we’d love to hear from you. Written by Judith Woods. First appeared on <a href="http://Stuff.co.nz" target="_blank">Stuff.co.nz</a>. Related links: <a href="/travel/travel-tips/2016/09/10-of-the-most-annoying-things-on-a-flight/">10 of the most annoying things on a flight</a> <a href="/news/news/2016/09/16-injured-after-severe-turbulence-on-flight/">16 injured after severe turbulence on flight</a> <a href="/travel/travel-tips/2016/08/6-dirtiest-places-on-a-plane-revealed/">6 dirtiest places on a plane revealed</a>

Travel Tips

Why everyone should break out of their comfort zone in retirement

Think back on what you had planned before you retired. It’s safe to assume one of your plans was to try something entirely new, perhaps a hobby or new pastime. Now that you are retired, ask yourself, “have I done what I set out to do?” If the answer is no, we’re going to show you why you should. The idea of a “comfort zone” has existed since 1908, when psychologists Robert M. Yerkes and John D. Dodson found that humans are actually more productive with a bit of stress. Without stress and anxiety, we have no driving force. This state of low-stress is known as “optimal anxiety” – the sweet spot where we’re just stressed enough to be productive, but not so anxious that we begin to shut down. It’s not only productivity that you’ll benefit from if you break out of your comfort zone. You’ll also experience these very welcome perks: <ul> <li>You’ll be more adaptive to change – as we’ve <a href="/health/mind/2016/04/ability-to-adapt-to-change-fades-as-we-age/" target="_blank">explained previously</a>, we become less tolerant of change when we age because the part of the brain responsible for accepting new things deteriorates over time. However, people who choose to take new opportunities are more prepared when other, less welcome changes are forced upon them.</li> <li>You’ll get addicted to trying new things – once you’ve done it once, the adrenaline you get from breaking out of your comfort zone will prompt you to do it again and again. That state of “optimal anxiety” will become more normal to you and you’ll keep trying to out-do yourself with new, exciting things.</li> <li>You’ll become more creative – going after new opportunities and having new experiences inspires you, makes you ponder the future and consider the past. You never know, you might just start to feel the creative juices flowing and be inspired to put pen to paper or paintbrush to canvas!</li> </ul> Doesn’t that sound good? Of course, it’s a lot easier said than done. Here are a few simple ways you can begin your journey towards living a more impulsive life. <ul> <li>Do something every day that scares you – whether it’s buying a new book or seeing a movie without reading a review, taking a new walking route, tasting a new cuisine… there are always small things you can do to push yourself just slightly outside the realm of comfort.</li> <li>Act on impulse – your intuition is rarely wrong, so instead of spending hours, days, even weeks making a decision, decide on the spot and stick to it. Once you realise how much more productive you can be this way, you’ll begin to trust yourself more.</li> <li>Go slowly – breaking out of your comfort zone isn’t about working up the courage to jump out of a plane or ride a rollercoaster. Making small changes in your attitude and the way you approach new situations is all you need to get yourself on the right path. It’s not about how big the step is, it’s about taking the step in the first place.</li> </ul> Tell us in the comments below, what’s the biggest way you’ve broken out of your comfort zone? Related links: <a href="/lifestyle/retirement-life/2016/07/reawaken-your-creativity-in-retirement/">Reawaken your creativity in retirement</a> <a href="/lifestyle/retirement-life/2016/06/over-60s-fitness-gurus/">Over-60s fitness gurus prove it’s never too late to get fit</a> <a href="/lifestyle/retirement-life/2016/06/retirement-doesnt-have-to-sap-your-self-esteem/">Retirement doesn’t have to sap your self-esteem</a>

Retirement Life

Mumbai set to become no-selfie zone

The “selfie” has become a part of modern life, but sometimes the pursuit of the perfect photo to post on social media can have tragic consequences. India is home to the highest number of people who have passed away while taking photos of themselves, with 49 recorded selfie-linked deaths since 2014, according the San Francisco-based data service provider Priceonomics. As a result, Mumbai has officially declared 16 “no-selfie zones” across the cities, with authorities warning people against taking unnecessary risks. Among the “no-selfie zones” are off-limit areas that are perceived as risky, particularly along the coastline in areas without railings or barriers. Clearly-marked signs show the selfie-free zones and anyone venturing into these off-limits areas risks beings slapped with a 1200 rupee (around $25) fine, even if they’re not taking any photographs. "This is a new problem for us," Mumbai police spokesman Dhananjay Kulkarni told CNN. "We have identified spots in Mumbai. We want to restrain people from going there so that mishaps don't happen." India is not the first country to make moves to deter people from taking dangerous selfies and tourist photographs. Selfie sticks have been banned from some train stations in Japan, amid fears people would lost balance and fall onto the tracks and Russia announced an entire campaign last year warning tourist of the most dangerous spots for selfies. So it goes without saying if you are going to take a selfie, be careful. Related links: <a href="http://www.oversixty.co.nz/travel/international/2016/02/a-look-inside-first-class-cabins/">Inside 8 first class cabins that will amaze you</a> <a href="http://www.oversixty.co.nz/travel/international/2016/02/most-photographed-locations-in-london/">London’s 8 most photographed locations</a> <a href="http://www.oversixty.co.nz/travel/international/2016/02/holiday-ideas-for-animal-lovers/">8 holiday ideas every animal lover needs to experience</a>

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