标签： Oceania

Just 24 hours after crossing the finish line of the London Marathon carrying a 25-kilogram fridge on his back to draw global attention to a devastating inherited disease, 30-year-old Jordan Adams kicked off an even more ambitious extreme challenge: running one full marathon a day for 32 days across every one of Ireland’s 32 counties, on both sides of the Irish border, to raise money for dementia research. The effort is deeply personal for Jordan and his 25-year-old younger brother Cian, who is supporting the run by cycling most of the route alongside him—both men carry a genetic mutation that gives them a 99.9% chance of developing the same early-onset frontal temporal dementia (FTD) that killed their mother when she was just 52.

The Adams family’s battle with FTD stretches back more than a decade. In 2010, their mother Geraldine, a native Irish woman with family roots across the country, was diagnosed with the rare familial form of the disease at just 47 years old. Overnight, 15-year-old Jordan, 9-year-old Cian, their older sister, and their father stepped into the role of full-time caregivers, a responsibility they held until Geraldine’s death in 2016. Two years later, devastating genetic testing confirmed what the family had feared: Jordan carried the harmful MAPT gene mutation linked to the condition, and Cian soon received the same positive result. The brothers are expected to develop aggressive, terminal symptoms when they reach their 40s, leaving them in a race against time to accelerate research that could deliver a life-saving cure. To date, 12 members of their Irish extended family have died from the disease, including their grandmother. That history is why the pair chose Ireland for their latest challenge: to honor the relatives they have lost to FTD and raise awareness of the growing dementia crisis across the country.

Jordan’s viral London Marathon fridge stunt, which he completed hand-in-hand with Cian, was designed to cut through public indifference and shine a spotlight on FTD. Calling the experience surreal, Jordan said that sharing the challenge with his brother—who shares both his diagnosis and his mission—made the achievement feel like a tribute to their late mother. This is not the first extreme endurance campaign the so-called “FTD brothers” have organized: two years ago, they completed a multi-marathon run across the entire United Kingdom, and Jordan previously conquered seven marathons in seven days as part of an earlier fundraising drive.

As a physiotherapist, Cian has led the brothers’ six-month training plan for the Irish challenge, building strength, conditioning, and endurance to prepare Jordan’s body for 32 straight days of 42-kilometer runs. “We’ve put together a solid plan over the last six months, focusing on strength and conditioning, plyometrics, and targeted running training to get Jordan in the best shape possible,” Cian explained ahead of the run, adding that early on, Jordan’s legs have held up well to the strain. Unlike the London run, Jordan will not carry the 25kg fridge during the Irish challenge, saving his energy for the month-long daily effort. The pair launched the Irish run in County Antrim in Northern Ireland on Monday, and will finish in Dublin on May 28, with crowds of local supporters turning out at every stop to cheer them on.

The brothers’ ultimate fundraising goal is £1 million to honor their mother and fund research into treatments and a cure for dementia that could ultimately save their lives. After the viral attention from the London Marathon stunt, they are already nearly halfway to their target. Half of all proceeds from the campaign will go to the Alzheimer Society of Ireland (ASI), which supports dementia patients and families across the country.

Carol Molloy, a leader with the ASI’s local branch, highlighted the urgent need for more funding and awareness: currently, around 64,000 people in Ireland live with dementia, and roughly one in 10 receive a diagnosis of young-onset dementia before the age of 65. By 2050, that total number is projected to jump to nearly 150,000 as populations age. “What Jordan and Cian are doing is amazing, we are so grateful,” Molloy said of the brothers’ work.

Dozens of local people affected by dementia have joined the brothers for portions of the daily marathon routes, standing in solidarity with their mission. Sean McFadden, a 50-year-old runner from Letterkenny who recently lost his father to dementia, is planning to run the entire route alongside the pair. “It’s a hard disease. For me today to be able to join in with the boys, it’s quite special,” McFadden said ahead of starting his run. “We have to hold our hearts out to the two lads and hope everything goes well.”

A devastating search operation in Australia’s Northern Territory Outback has taken a grim turn, with law enforcement confirming they have located what they believe to be the remains of a 5-year-old Indigenous girl abducted from her home, as the hunt for her accused killer intensifies across remote desert terrain.

Identified only as Kumanjayi Little Baby out of respect for cultural traditions, the non-verbal child was last seen late on Saturday night, when she was settled into bed at Old Timers Camp, a government-designated Aboriginal town camp located on the outskirts of Alice Springs, just before midnight. She was reported missing shortly after, triggering a large-scale multi-agency search that drew together local community volunteers and specialized police units.

Northern Territory Police announced Thursday that search teams had recovered the body of a young child in the area. Formal forensic testing is currently ongoing to formally confirm the child’s identity and establish the exact cause of death, law enforcement officials confirmed.

The primary suspect in the case is 47-year-old Jefferson Lewis, a man who investigators say is a distant relative of the girl. Lewis was released from prison just six days before Kumanjayi disappeared, and he vanished from the area around the same time the child was reported missing. He has a long documented criminal history, with repeated prior convictions for domestic and family violence-related offenses that saw him cycle in and out of correctional facilities for years. Eyewitnesses reported seeing Lewis holding hands with the young girl late on the night she vanished.

Detective Superintendent Peter Malley, the lead investigator on the case, told reporters Wednesday: “We believed he has murdered this child.” He added that forensic investigators have already connected Lewis to the scene: a piece of children’s underwear recovered near the camp tested positive for DNA from both Kumanjayi and the suspect.

The search effort has stretched across hundreds of square kilometers of harsh, remote bush and desert surrounding the camp. Dozens of local community members have joined the operation, alongside specialized police resources including a canine search unit, drone surveillance teams, and a police helicopter to cover the vast, sparsely populated terrain.

Investigators noted that Lewis has no access to modern communication tools, no active bank account, and no vehicle, leading them to believe he has received assistance from third parties to evade capture. Law enforcement has issued a public appeal for any member of the community with information about Lewis’s possible location to contact authorities immediately.

In a statement to the press, Northern Territory Police Commissioner Martin Dole confirmed that Kumanjayi’s family has been notified of the discovery of the child’s body. “Our thoughts are firmly with them at this devastating time,” Dole said. “This is an incredibly distressing development. This is the worst possible outcome.”

Closing out the press briefing, Malley issued a direct message to the fugitive: “And I say to Jefferson Lewis, we’re coming for you.”

Ahead of the report, Australian Broadcasting Corporation issued a content warning for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander readers, noting that the article references the death of an Indigenous person.

Every spring, a centuries-old traditional ritual that welcomes the changing of seasons brings hundreds of faithful worshippers to a rugged, largely unspoiled mountain just outside Tokyo’s bustling urban core. Known as the Hinode Sai, or Sunrise Festival, this annual two-day Shinto celebration traces its origins back to the Middle Ages, when wandering ascetics first scaled Mount Mitake in their search for spiritual enlightenment. Located roughly 55 kilometers from central Tokyo, the mountain’s remote summit remains largely untouched by modern development, making it a serene setting for one of Japan’s most enduring cultural traditions. The core ritual of the festival centers on the sacred deity enshrined at the mountain’s top shrine. Carefully wrapped in plain white silk and kept hidden from public view at all times, the deity is carried down from the summit to a temporary resting place at the mountain’s base, a site believed to be where the deity first descended from the heavens centuries ago. The slow, silent procession began on Tuesday evening, guided only by the warm glow of lanterns as it wound through a quiet mountain village, passing gathered devotees and shuttered local storefronts while extending blessings to all along the route. After the deity spends the night at its lower resting place, the celebratory ascent back to the summit begins at dawn. This year, robed Shinto priests were joined by participants clad in replica traditional samurai armor and children wearing formal ceremonial attire for the one-kilometer climb. The pilgrimage reached its climactic moment when the procession finished the final 330 stone steps to the mountaintop shrine, with the deep, resonant echo of conch shells ringing out through the surrounding evergreen forest. For attendees from across Japan, participation in the festival is more than a cultural tradition: shrine officials explain that those who take part receive the deity’s blessing, which is believed to grant household protection and freedom from illness for the coming year. Beyond its spiritual significance, the festival also acts as a centuries-old public marker for the arrival of spring, connecting modern Japanese devotees to generations of ancestors who have marked the changing seasons on the same remote slopes.

Across the globe, iconic travel hotspots from Barcelona to Venice have pushed back against the chaos of overtourism — and now a tiny Australian coastal hamlet is the latest community to draw a line in the sand. Tasman Drive, a tree-lined road in Gerringong, a quiet town two hours south of Sydney, has been labeled the country’s ‘most beautiful street’ in viral social media content, and the flood of visitors drawn by the posts has left long-term residents fed up with the constant disruption to their daily lives.

Gerringong has long been a postcard-perfect spot along Australia’s east coast, where multi-million-dollar clifftop homes overlook the bright turquoise expanse of the Tasman Sea, drawing a steady trickle of holidaymakers. But in recent months, viral reels, photos and posts across Instagram, TikTok, and even China’s RedNote platform have turned the quiet residential street into a bucket-list destination, attracting thousands of tourists every month. For locals who moved to the town to escape the hustle of big cities, the sudden fame has turned their peaceful paradise into an endless traffic jam and photo shoot.

81-year-old local resident Peter Hainsworth told Agence France-Presse that the constant stream of visitors has turned life on the street into a farce. Tourists regularly block the entire road to take selfies, execute clumsy three-point turns in their rental cars, and leave discarded trash scattered across public spaces and private lawns. Nearby, as a group of tourists posed for photos in the middle of the pavement, one angry local cyclist hurled expletives at the group before declining to speak with reporters.

The backlash in Gerringong mirrors a growing global trend: as social media turns little-known hidden gems into overnight viral destinations, communities are dealing with the fallout of unplanned overtourism. In 2024, Japanese officials even installed a concrete barrier to block the most popular viewing spot for Mount Fuji, fed up with unruly tourist behavior and overcrowding that disrupted local life.

Fed up with the disruption, some Gerringong residents have taken matters into their own hands. Multiple homeowners have turned on their garden sprinklers to deter tourists from tramping across their lawns to get the perfect viral shot. A group of residents is now organizing a formal committee to lobby the local council to reclassify Tasman Drive as a one-way street, a move designed to cut down on the constant line of cars stopping mid-road to film the iconic view. The tension has gotten so bad that at least one resident has already sold their home and moved away to escape the chaos.

76-year-old local Linda Bruce, who lives steps from the famous viewpoint, said while she understands the draw of the landscape, the volume of visitors has become unsustainable. “It’s nice to see people enjoying it, but really, it’s just getting a bit too much,” she said, noting that tourists are now traveling from across Asia to see the street — a level of international interest that is unprecedented for the small town. “I mean, it’s an amazing country, and it’s there to share… it’s just a bit much for the locals.”

For tourists, the viral fame has been a chance to see one of Australia’s most talked-about new destinations. Sagar Munjal, a 28-year-old taxi driver from Sydney’s western suburb of Parramatta, made the two-hour drive with friends after seeing the view on Instagram. “My eyes were totally stunned,” he said. “You can enjoy the coastal drive with the beach plus beautiful mountains. I was amazed to see that.”

Andy Liao, a Chinese-born property developer based in Sydney, told AFP he brought his family to Gerringong after seeing posts of the street on RedNote. “The landscape is so beautiful. That’s why I drove two hours,” he said, adding that he sympathized with frustrated locals. “If I’m living here, I don’t want too many people coming to my backyard.”

Not all tourists share that understanding, however. 22-year-old Colombian cook Kevin Medina sparked an angry outburst from a local when he posed for selfies in the middle of the road, arguing that residents should be grateful for the attention. “They should be really happy, because [now] more people get to know this beautiful place,” he said.

One of the core complaints from locals is that most tourists do not contribute to the local economy: they pull over, snap their photos, and drive away without stopping to shop, eat or stay in the town. Deputy Mayor Melissa Matters, who also owns a local business, said the economic impact of the viral fame has been split. Some local cafes and shops have seen a notable bump in sales, she said, while other businesses have seen almost no increase in custom from the flood of day-trippers. Matters also noted that Gerringong has always relied on tourism, but the sudden, unregulated influx of viral visitors is unprecedented.

As tourists continued to pose for photos beside a speed bump sign on Tasman Drive this week, with glowering residents watching on, Bruce questioned the motivation behind the viral travel trend. “You sort of wonder, why are they doing this?” she said. “Is it because they really, really love the area and think it’s so wonderful to see the view, or are they just ticking off another box on their to-do list?”

The idyllic Indonesian resort island of Bali, globally celebrated for its lush natural landscapes and golden coastlines that draw millions of visitors annually, is currently grappling with an escalating public health and economic crisis after authorities moved to enforce a decade-old ban on open dumping by closing the island’s largest landfill to incoming organic waste earlier this April. With no viable alternative waste disposal infrastructure rolled out ahead of the policy change, rotting garbage is now piling up along sidewalks, tourist hubs, and residential streets across the island, bringing with it foul odors, rodent infestations, and dangerous acrid smoke from illegal trash burning that has sparked widespread health concerns among locals and visitors alike.

For small business owners like Yuvita Anggi Prinanda, who runs a popular sidewalk flower stall in central Bali, the crisis has hit directly to the bottom line. Even the sweet fragrance of her fresh bucketed blooms cannot cut through the stench of accumulated waste that has gathered near her shop. Yuvita, who produces four large bags of organic waste daily from discarded leaves and flower trimmings, told reporters she has been forced to dip into her already thin profits to pay a private waste hauler to remove the trash. “Some customers, bothered by the persistent smell, end up leaving without making a purchase,” the 34-year-old entrepreneur explained. Her daily waste is just a tiny fraction of the roughly 3,400 tons of garbage Bali generates every single day, a volume inflated by the seven million international tourists that visited the island in 2024 – far outnumbering the island’s native population of just 4.4 million.

The policy shift that sparked the crisis is not new: Indonesia formally banned unregulated open landfills back in 2011 as part of a national waste management reform, but widespread enforcement never followed. Thirteen years on, fewer than a third of the country’s 485 original open landfills have been permanently shuttered, and only around 30% of the nation’s annual 40 million tons of waste is properly processed or recycled, according to government data. The remaining 70% is dumped illegally into rivers, oceans, or open unregulated sites. Now, the national government is moving to finally implement the full ban, targeting August for a complete phase-out of all open landfills across the country – but officials have yet to outline a clear, funded plan for alternative waste processing to take effect by that deadline.

At one of Bali’s most iconic tourist destinations, Kuta Beach, the crisis is on full public display: waist-high piles of sealed garbage bags now line the popular beachfront parking lot, adding to the island’s long-running struggle with plastic debris that regularly washes up on its shores. Australian tourist Justin Butcher, who has visited the beach for years, called the situation unacceptable. “You have dozens of rats here after dark, the smell is unbearable, and this just isn’t a good look for one of the world’s top vacation spots,” he said.

Local authorities have confirmed that anyone caught dumping or burning trash illegally now faces up to three months in prison and a fine of 50 million rupiah (nearly $3,000), but frustrated residents and waste workers say they have no other legal option to dispose of waste. On April 16, hundreds of Bali sanitation workers staged a protest outside the governor’s office, driving their waste-filled trucks to the site to demand solutions. “If we refuse to collect trash from residents, we get in trouble. If we do collect it, we have nowhere legal to take it,” explained protester I Wayan Tedi Brahmanca. In response to the growing unrest, the local government announced a temporary compromise: limited organic waste disposal will be allowed at the closed Suwung landfill until the end of July, buying officials a few months of time to finalize long-term plans.

Waste management experts warn that the decades-long overreliance on overcrowded open landfills has already created catastrophic safety risks. Nur Azizah, a waste management researcher at Gadjah Mada University, noted that the Suwung landfill alone was taking in 1,000 tons of waste per day, 70% of it organic, and has been operating far over capacity for years. “Organic waste trapped in unregulated landfills produces dangerous methane gas over time, which can cause explosions and trigger catastrophic landslides,” she explained. That risk is not hypothetical: in March, a collapse at Indonesia’s largest open landfill outside Jakarta killed seven people, burying nearby food stalls and parked trucks under tons of rotting waste.

Nur and other experts say the only sustainable long-term solution to the crisis is a mass public education campaign focused on home composting for organic waste, which makes up nearly 40% of all waste generated across Indonesia. Yuvita, the flower seller, agrees with that assessment. “People need clear guidance and support,” she said. “This is like telling someone who can’t swim to jump straight into the ocean – you can’t just impose a ban without giving people the tools to comply.” Local environment agency officials say they have run public awareness campaigns since last year and distributed free composting bins to households, but rollout has been slow and uneven across the island.

Indonesia’s national government says it plans to break ground on several new waste-to-energy processing projects in June, including one facility in Bali that will be able to process up to 1,200 tons of waste per day. But even if construction stays on schedule, these large facilities will take years to become fully operational, leaving Bali and other regions across Indonesia stuck in a waste management emergency that former environment minister Hanif Faisol Nurofiq recently acknowledged has reached crisis proportions across every major city and region in the country.