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Back home, there are many nudist camping areas to be found along Germany's coast and along the lake shores of the former GDR. That said, it's not permitted to strip everywhere. Walking around naked in public areas where most other people are dressed counts as a minor breach of the law. Prosecutions can follow if another citizen is offended, but few ever are. Where to bare it all. The first nude beach in Germany was established in on the island of Sylt.

Members visit these clubs to sunbathe nude or indulge in a spot of nacktjoggen or nacktwandern - naked jogging or rambling through the countryside wearing only backpacks, boots or running shoes.

A list of FKK clubs is available on the German-language homepage of the German Federation of Naturist Clubs warning: images of nudes all over. The heartland of public nakedness also still has a plethora of designated FKK beas and nudist zones in public parks and on beas. The English Garden in Munich has two large FKK areas on the banks of the Eisbach creek. Berlin public parks have FKK areas: the famous Mauerpark in Prenzlauer Berg, the Volkspark Friedrichshain and the Tiergarten, and it's permitted to get naked on all Berlin's public bathing beas, such as at Wannsee or the Mueggelsee.

Along the German coastline, the nudity ground zero of Sylt Island is still going strong. Sylt's Kampen beach might now be a popular destination for the rich and famous - but in Germany, they too love getting their clothes off.

For those who like to put some distance between themselves and the next naked bather, Germany's largest Baltic island, Ruegen, has no fewer than five FKK beas. A full list of public nude bathing areas is available in German at nacktbaden.

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How to get naked in Germany. Tiergarten Park is another public park in Berlin with designated areas to go nude. The easiest way to bare it all in Deutschland is to visit one of the aforementioned public FKK areas.

There are no changing rooms, so undressing takes place in public - but again, not one German is going to be offended by this. Most FKK beas on the coast will also have signs indicating textile-free zones.

After passing these signs, visitors will need to disrobe immediately to avoid being reprimanded by the lifeguards who also enforce the rules. LRA members started a new wave of kidnappings, far worse than what they had done before that. Inthe LRA abducted 6, people, most of them between 11 and 17 years old. It was during this period that Ongwen distinguished himself as an officer. From summer to autumnhe was responsible for at least 28 attacks, according to the records of the Ugandan intelligence service and the army, who intercepted radio calls by the LRA.

He set ambushes, attacked army patrols, overran remote barracks, burned down entire villages, raided Catholic missions to steal their radios, and was an unrelenting kidnapper. He was always on the move, often marching in a group of 50 fighters, all of whom spread out around him within shouting distance. Wherever he went, former LRA members said, he had bodyguards with him, many of them minors.

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At night they slept in a circle around his tent. T he village of Odek, the birthplace of Joseph Kony, is set in a flat, fertile landscape, by a small river. Like most tyrants, Kony loved grand, dramatic gestures. In he ordered his fighters to attack the refugee camp that had sprung up there, in the place where he grew up. As commander for this mission, he selected Dominic Ongwen. Three former LRA fighters testified in court that they saw how Dominic Ongwen gave instructions for the attack.

The fighters arrived at the edge of the camp just before sunset. It was April 29, Aboutpeople were living in Odek at that time, most of them refugees who had been forcibly displaced by the Ugandan government during their war with the LRA.

The massacre barely lasted an hour. The court transcripts give the impression that the main purpose was not necessarily to inflict as much harm as possible, or to kill everyone in sight, but that the violence was deliberately chaotic, to spread the kind of fear that would stay with the survivors for the rest of their lives.

One LRA soldier led a schoolboy through the camp on a rope. They fired through closed doors. The next day, Ongwen got on the radio and reported back to Joseph Kony.

The call was intercepted both by the Ugandan army and intelligence services. Around 60 people died in the attack on Odek. On the morning after, an elderly couple was found lying in a pool of blood in front of their little shop; a newly married man was discovered dead with a bullet wound in his back, executed, like many others, at close range. A young mother had fallen, her face buried in the mud, her baby still alive, tied to her back. There were many times when he was hundreds of miles away from Kony, alone with his troops in the bush.

There were times when Kony could not reach him over the radio for weeks on end. At what point did it become his own decision to stay? Did it ever really? Whatever drove him, Ongwen was steadfast in his loyalty to Kony for many years. He was the last LRA commander to leave Uganda after the group retreated in the face of mounting military pressure from the Ugandan army. He crossed over the Nile into the Democratic Republic of Congo. Later, he moved with a small number of troops through the Central African Republic and Sudan.

He committed further, even more violent massacres. The people that were with him during that time told me that he became desperate and hopeless, that he spoke with increasing frequency and openness about defecting. But he only left after his relationship with Kony broke down. Kony was notoriously paranoid - always anxious that his commanders might betray him. According to former LRA soldiers, Ongwen openly contradicted Kony on several occasions - something almost unheard of in the strictly hierarchical LRA.

He was eventually placed under arrest.

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It seemed only a matter of time before he would be executed, like so many commanders before him. After his surrender in the Central African Republic, he agreed to record a message addressing his former fighters. If even I decide to come out of the bush, what are you still doing there? I t is not easy to reconcile the accounts that different witnesses have provided about Ongwen. They seem incongruent - full of conflicting, contrasting character traits.

Ongwen himself provided an explanation that might seem like a solution, but possibly one that is too convenient. He told his two Ugandan psychiatrists, Dickens Akena and Emilio Ovuga, who testified on his behalf in court, that two distinct personalities inside him are constantly fighting for control.

He calls them Dominic A and Dominic B. One is good, friendly, helpful. The other one is angry and aggressive. At other times he has described Dominic B as somebody who walked next to him or pushed him forward into battle, preventing him from retreating.

Ongwen has even said that he could sometimes see Dominic B, his angry self, alongside him. S everal of the women whom Dominic Ongwen once called his wives live just a few hundred yards apart on the outskirts of Gulu. They have built small thatd huts in a tightly packed settlement. Most of them have no land on which to grow vegetables.

There is no running water. Malaria is common. They live here because they have no other place to go. But for these women, traditional customs do not apply. Their children were conceived in the LRA, under the constant threat of force. The father of their children is in prison, and many of the women do not see Ongwen as their legitimate husband anyway, but as their tormentor.

Others, however, still say that they love him.

Dillish Abang, 26 years old, has seven children with Ongwen. Her youngest son was conceived in The Hague conjugal visits are permitted in Dutch prisons and is now 2 years old.

Abang said that she speaks to Ongwen almost every week. He tells her about his nightmares in prison, his new friends - all fellow inmates also accused of war crimes - and his hobbies: He has learned to play the piano and developed a passion for baking in the prison kitn. According to Abang, he is a loyal, caring, attentive father, eager to find out how his children are doing in school. She told me that he has always treated her well.

Irene Fatuma Lakica, 0, lives less than a minute walk from Abang. When I met her, she was wearing a green T-shirt with winged horses on it.

She cried briefly, two or three tears, which she wiped away quickly, while she talked about Ongwen and how he had raped her, once every few weeks. How he had threatened her with a mate if she refused. Six women have described similar attacks in court in The Hague. One said that she was about 10 years old when Ongwen told her he wanted to have sex with her. That she was beaten every day for a week by his bodyguards until she could not resist anymore.

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That she had been so small that she had to be lifted onto his bed because it was so high. And yet, while the women have agreed on little else about him, their perspectives converge on one issue: None of them think that he was insane. E milio Ovuga, professor of psychiatry in Gulu, is a small, gray-haired man. When he testified on November 22,it was a cold day, and he was wearing a coat over his suit, even in the courtroom. He spoke slowly, with a frail voice and dry wit. Ovuga was the last witness in the trial.

He was also, perhaps, the most important.

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The lead prosecutor in the case, Benjamin Gumpert, took on the cross-examination. Gumpert is a year-old Brit, educated in Cambridge. He has a scar on his chin, and dark, dense hair that makes him look much more boyish than his age would suggest. Gumpert is a tough, aggressive interrogator, whose only weakness on the stand seems to be that he sometimes enjoys his work a bit too much.

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The question that day was a difficult one: How exactly did Ovuga come up with the unusual diagnosis of dissociative identity disorder previously called multiple personality disorder? Many psychiatrists say the illness is extremely rare.

People who do not suffer from severe mental illness cope with their disability, so that those around them will not notice that something is wrong. In most cases they will not notice it. Gumpert later had to apologize for that last, discourteous word.

But he was not alone in his assessment. It was March 12, Ayena was standing behind his desk, in socks, his feet sticking out from under his black robe. He is capable of delivering points forcefully. He could not remember the words. He had to stop, again and again.

Several times he went quiet midsentence, not remembering the end. Ayena had already started to look out of his depth during the last months of trial. He had dozed off multiple times while his colleagues were questioning key witnesses, including some of the psychiatric experts. In the rows behind Ayena, his colleagues on the defense team started collecting their documents and putting them in their bags. Whatever verdict you come up with, the sentence should be so mild.

I mean, of course, I know that we have been reading from the same page and we pray that you acquit him. O ngwen remained still, almost motionless, while Schmitt read out the verdict. He wore a dark suit, a blue shirt with a gray tie, and a surgical face mask. Only his eyes were blinking constantly, quickly and nervously. The presiding judge took his time. Schmitt went over each of the attacks, named victims one by one, described events in detail: the murder, the pillaging, the rape, the abductions.

However, this case is about crimes committed by Dominic Ongwen as a responsible adult. Guilty of war crimes, guilty of crimes against humanity, guilty of murder, guilty of pillaging, guilty of rape, guilty of torture, guilty of forcing women to marry him, guilty of forcing them to have his children, guilty of conscripting children into an armed group, guilty, guilty, guilty.

In the end, Schmitt had convicted him on 61 of the 70 counts. The only thing left to decide was the prison sentence, which will be announced at a later date, in a separate hearing. The maximum sentence at the International Criminal Court is 0 years. The judges left quickly. Dominic Ongwen, however, lingered for a moment. Then he limped toward the door, his body looking heavy, burdened. He exited into a brightly lit hallway. A humble Scotsman saw something strange in the water-and daringly set out to catch it-only to have lerous out-of-towners steal his fame and upend his quest.

S andy Gray was fishing in the peat-black waters of Loch Ness when he discovered an unusual animal. It was a sleety Saturday in Marchand the animal was a large, elaborately colored bird with a glossy green head, a fan of coppery-red plumes, and a dark-metallic breast. The bird was badly injured; it appeared to have been shot or trapped. Sandy, a bus driver from the tiny loch-side village of Foyers, attempted to save it.

He took it home but could only keep it alive for a few days. After it died, Sandy took it to the nearby town of Inverness to have it identified. The bird, according to the Inverness librarian, was a mandarin duck. It was native to Asia and entirely alien to Loch Ness, which carves a glaciated furrow through the rugged splendor of the Scottish Highlands. It seemed that the duck had escaped or otherwise been released from captivity into an unfamiliar habitat.

It was not the last time Sandy Gray would be in the papers for an unusual encounter at Loch Ness. He grew up in Foyers, midway along the southeastern shore, in a secluded home known as the Bungalow. His father, Hugh, was a foreman at the British Aluminium Works smelting plant, which was hydroelectric-powered by the dramatic foot cascade of the Falls of Foyers.

The stone gable-fronted plant employed several hundred workers, and since opening in it had transformed Foyers from a tiny sheep-farming community, where many residents spoke the Scots Gaelic language, into an expanding industrial village. The Bungalow was a large green-painted wood and corrugated-tin structure surrounded by well-kept lawns, rose beds and vegetable pats. Set in trees behind the plant, it had separate dwellings for family and for lodgers, and it became a hostel for plant workers.

Sandy and his younger brother, Hugh Jr. Foyers was an idyllic place to grow up, where the local children enjoyed adventures in the forests, by the shore, and on the water. The boys had three young sisters, Bessie, Anne and Mary, though Anne, the middle sister, died in infancy in There were other tragedies in Foyers.

Aluminum smelting was a new and dangerous process, and an explosion killed one young man and seriously injured several others at the works. And inside the rubble-stone plant, amid the volcanic heat of the smelting furnaces, the then-underestimated threat of toxic aluminum dust lingered in the air. Many of the villagers were keen shore and boat fishermen. When he was a very young boy, Sandy heard a peculiar story from his uncle. Donald Gray was a fishing tackle maker who ran a bait and tackle store in Inverness and often fished in Loch Ness.

According to his story, Donald and several other men were drawing in a salmon net when it suddenly resisted and their hauling ropes were wrend five or six feet back into the water.

The startled men held onto the ropes for a few silent moments. Then a huge force ripped the ropes from their hands and dragged the net off into the loch and under the surface, never to be seen again. Other locals had similar tales, although insularity and superstition meant that they were rarely told outside of their communities. Like many kids from the banks of Loch Ness, Sandy grew up with an ingrained belief that there was something strange in the water. Sandy fished on the loch from an early age.

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It was while he was fishing inas a teenager, that he first saw what he believed to be an extraordinary creature in the loch. He was in a small fishing boat off of Dores, a little way north of Foyers. He recalled seeing a large black object, around six feet wide, protruding above the water.

When it sank, it left a swirling vortex on the surface of the loch.

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There were porpoises in the loch in They had entered from the Moray Firth along the River Ness and were a rare spectacle that might have confused those who saw them. But even with hindsight, Sandy was very clear about what he had seen. In subsequent years, Sandy spent much of his time on the water fishing for salmon that ran from the rivers into the loch.

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He became an accomplished fisherman, with his notable cats reported in the angling columns of Scottish national newspapers. Sandy decided not to follow his father into the aluminum plant, and instead became a bus driver, carrying passengers from Fort Augustus, at the southern end of the loch, along the shoreside road to the villages of Inverfarigaig and Dores and up past Lond to Inverness. As the eldest child, Sandy was now responsible for looking after his mother and siblings by bringing home a wage and catching enough fish on the loch to feed the family.

It was while fishing on the loch, probably inthat Sandy had another inexplicable encounter. He was with two other fishermen when they saw a large salmon leaping through the air toward their boat. It was unusual behavior that the experienced men had not seen in the loch before, and they agreed that the fish must have been being pursued by a large predator. As it approad the boat, the salmon disappeared below the surface.

A Strange Experience on Loch Ness. There was a brief flurry of local interest but the story did not make it outside of the Highlands, and the creature remained a local legend. In OctoberSandy married Catherine Kennedy, the daughter of another Foyers aluminum worker.

Sandy and Catherine settled into a quiet life in their peaceful surroundings. Sandy continued to drive his bus around the loch and fish from his boat on its waters. Then, six months after his wedding, Sandy reported seeing the strange creature in the loch again. This sighting would turn his quiet life upside down and help change Foyers and the loch forever. It was late Mayand Loch Ness was experiencing an early glimmer of summer, with lilac heather blooming across the craggy hillsides, the fresh scent of Scots pine hanging crisp in the air, and the warm sun casting a shimmering glow on the loch.

Sandy Gray had not only seen the Loch Ness Monster: He was going to attempt to catch it. L och Ness is more than 10, years old. It was formed by glacial erosion along the Great Glen Fault toward the end of the last Ice Age. Today, it is the largest lake by volume in the United Kingdom, containing more than twice as much water as all of the lakes in England and Wales combined. It is 2 miles long and, at its broadest point, 1.

Its freshwater is inky black and opaque, due to the leaching of tannins from the peat-rich surroundings. In the s, there was no accurate measure of its depth. Modern sonar equipment has since measured the deepest point of the loch at feet, although that measurement is disputed. Even today, it is impossible to know all of its secrets. Fishing, boating and swimming were popular at the loch long before monster hunting. Tourists were yet to outnumber locals, but that was soon to change.

Some locals said that they feared the blasting might have awoken something from the depths, something they believed had inhabited the loch for centuries. The first recorded sighting of a strange creature in the loch appeared in the sixth-century A.

document Life of St. Regular sightings of something strange in the water convinced many that the superstitions were based on fact. Sandy made his attempt to catch the monster during the last weekend of Mayfueled by his three decades of strange tales and experiences.

His usual catch was Atlantic salmon, a species with an average weight of around 10 pounds. By his own reckoning, the Loch Ness Monster weighed more than 0, pounds. This special tackle, rigged for him in Inverness - likely by his Uncle Donald, whose story had first implanted the legend in his mind as a small boy - consisted of a sealed barrel attad via 50 or so yards of strong wire to heavy-duty treble hooks, which were baited with dogfish and skate.

Sandy placed his rig into the water off of Foyers and followed the barrel as it drifted southwest toward Fort Augustus.

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It was a cloudy and cool day, and the loch was calm and still. After several miles, the barrel changed direction and began to move back up toward Foyers. Eventually, the barrel came ashore. Sandy hauled in the wire and examined the hooks.

The bait was untoud.

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His attempt to catch the monster had failed, although Sandy said he planned to try again. But the coverage generated considerable interest. News of this strange creature lurking in a mysterious loch spread nationally across Scotland. The Loch Ness Monster, as the newspapers now regularly called it, was no longer a local curiosity.

Sandy had lifted the lid off of a legend, and a flurry of new sightings began to spill out. Inverfarigaig resident Alexander Shaw, who had previously been a nonbeliever, watd a fast-moving dark hump for 10 minutes through a telescope.

Spicer had been vacationing at Loch Ness when, on July 22, he had an unusual encounter while driving between Foyers and Dores. The creature had a long neck, a large body and a high back. He admitted that he could not give a better description, as it had moved so swiftly. He would be dragged back into the hunt for the creature following an extraordinary announcement from his brother: Hughie said that he had also seen the monster - and had a photograph to prove it.

H ughie Gray was a year younger than Sandy. He had been employed at the aluminum works as a fitter since the age of 15, and he now lived at a residence known as the New Hut, right next to the Bungalow, along with several other workers. Every Sunday after church, Hughie took a walk by the loch with his camera. On this particular Sunday, November 12,he sat on a ridge about 0 feet above the water.

Suddenly, a large object rose out of the loch, around yards from shore. Hughie took five pictures, but he had such a fleeting view of the object that he doubted the long-exposure box camera could have captured it. And if it had caught something, he feared being mocked - just as his brother had been. Then Hughie told Sandy, and Sandy took the film to a pharmacy in Inverness to be developed.

Four of the five shots were blank exposures. The fifth was not. It appeared to show something - an indistinct, blurry gray object - thrashing about in the water. Both Sandy and Hughie were convinced it was the monster. They gave the photograph to the Daily Recor a Scottish national newspaper based in Glasgow. Hughie provided a sworn statement, detailing how he had taken the photo, in the presence of a Record reporter, a representative of the aluminum works, and a local bailie or magistrate named Hugh Mackenzie.

Gray told his story. This, some observers claimed, was the first solid evidence of a large unidentified creature in Loch Ness.

The photograph created a sensation. Newspapers in England splashed the photograph across the front pages. The Secretary for Scotland, Sir Godfrey Collins, was asked to call in the Royal Air Force to monitor the loch - although he said he preferred to await more evidence.

Meanwhile, The Times of London sent retired Royal Navy officer Lieutenant-Commander Rupert T. Gould to Loch Ness to conduct an inquiry.

He wrote a lengthy report for the newspaper, and in the following year he published a book titled The Loch Ness Monster and Others. Sandy recounted his experiences to a reporter who had been sent to Foyers by The Scotsman.

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The newspaper published a theory that the monster may be a plesiosaurus, a large Jurassic-era marine reptile that was thought to have been extinct for 66 million years.

Other newspapers preferred more mundane explanations. The Sphere suggested that the monster could be nothing more than a tree trunk, and it published a photograph showing two Foyers villagers, with their trousers rolled up past their knees, retrieving a large trunk with a protruding necklike branch from the loch. There was little suggestion in that the monster could be a hoax, which would inevitably have implicated the Gray brothers.

Both men claimed to have had previous encounters on the loch that they had not reported or sought publicity for. Suddenly, the little village was a tourist attraction, and those tourists who did not manage to photograph or spot the monster might instead have snapped the magnificent falls or gazed across from the shallow banks of the loch toward the heather-strewn hills. For many, the loch itself was a previously unseen wonder, but others remained determined to see - or capture - the monster.

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A large steel cage was constructed for the purpose. The movie features stop-motion scenes of a long-necked dinosaur rising out of a lake, and it was blamed for planting the image of a plesiosaurus-type creature into the minds of Loch Ness witnesses. However, Mills almost certainly was. The movie had been a huge hit in London for months, and he perhaps saw a little of himself in its protagonist, the exotic wildlife filmmaker Carl Denham. Denham had a closer real-life contemporary in big-game hunter and filmmaker Marmaduke Wetherell, who oversaw a two-week search at the loch involving boats and two airplanes.

Each had a flare, which they were instructed to light as soon as they spotted the creature. Wetherell did not catch the monster, but he did produce a plaster cast of what he claimed to be a nine-inch-wide footprint, found on the shore near Foyers. Then, in Aprilthe Daily Mail published a photograph taken by a gynecological surgeon from London named Robert Kenneth Wilson, showing what appeared to be a dark, swan-like neck protruding from the water.

But Sandy Gray was not finished with the monster, nor was the monster finished with him. It occurred on Wednesday, June 19, Sandy was fishing at Foyers, despite forecasts of rain. Behind, I saw quite plainly a series of what appeared to be small ridges, seven in number, apparently belonging to the tail of the creature, which now and again caused much commotion in the water.

It was rather small in relation to the huge body, which was of a slatey black color. From the way the creature moved in the water, I have not the slightest doubt that it was extremely heavy. In moving, it gave a sort of lurch forward, which seemed to carry it about four yards at a time. As I watd it, the monster started to go across the loch. Sandy got out of the water as quickly as he could in his heavy waders and hurried along to the post office, where he called for the postmistress Mrs.

Cameron, a gardener named Mr. Batn, and another friend to come with him to the shore. It came within two hundred yards of where we were standing before it set off in the direction of Invermoriston, where it passed out of sight. This was the fifth time Sandy had seen the monster, he said, but he had never had such a clear and prolonged view.

He watd it moving about the loch for more than 25 minutes. Two days later, 16 people reported seeing a creature with a black body, dark neck and small head moving through the loch between Foyers and Invermoriston, just as Sandy had described.

Bythe monster-spotters had left and the media had moved on. At least one publication printed it upside down. S andy set off on his last fishing trip on Loch Ness on February 22, He was now 48 years old and worked as a taxi driver and chauffeur rather than a bus driver.

He had moved to Inverness with Catherine, but he regularly returned to Foyers, where his mother and brother still lived, to fish from his one-man outboard motor boat. It was a fresh and showery Tuesday morning.

By the afternoon, a storm had settled over the loch, and the winds had read gale force, which would have whipped the dark, placid surface into an angry churn of white-capped peaks and troughs.

When he failed to return from the loch in the evening, his friends began to fear for his safety. Foyers villagers formed search parties to scour the shores, but when darkness fell, they had to put the search on hold until first light.

In the morning, just after 9 a. A little later, they found his body on rocks at Foyers. It was thought that Sandy had drowned, although his cause of death was uncertified.

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The most likely explanation was that his boat had capsized in the stormy weather, although it seemed surprising that such an experienced fisherman and boatman would be caught by the conditions in such a manner. The fact that his body was found on rocks suggested that his boat had overturned in shallow water, perhaps as he was heading back to shore. The exact circumstances of his death remain unknown.

Inwhen Constance Whyte was researching her book on the Loch Ness Monster, she went to Foyers and visited Hughie Gray. He was still working as a fitter at the aluminum works and living in his hut next to the Bungalow. The negative was lost, but Hughie and Whyte examined a copy of the photo together, and Hughie said that it contained as much detail as he could remember seeing at the time.

Today he is mostly forgotten outside of the Gray family, who have moved away from Foyers. The Bungalow is no longer there. On a later visit, Alexander found that the family headstone had fallen over. He had it restored and reset. Nessie spotters are still drawn to Foyers due to its connection with the monster.

Like many Loch Ness communities, the village has become a tourist destination, with hotels and cafes, and shops selling Nessie plush toys.

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The villagers have learned to embrace the legend of the Loch Ness Monster. Roland Watson tells me that there is an elderly fisherman named Ala MacGruer who knew Hughie Gray. If you can find Ala in Foyers, he will tell you about his own strange sighting on the loch, and about how, before he goes fishing, he pours a dram of whisky into the water for good luck.

He will also tell you that Hughie had a brother called Sandy who once tried to catch the Loch Ness Monster, and later died in mysterious circumstances. Sign up for our monthly Hidden History newsletter for more great stories of the unsung humans who shaped our world. Jay J. Armes is a legendary and controversial Texan investigator with hooks for hands and six decades chasing criminals.

This was his most epic murder case ever. Chiang Mai is a large city in the northwestern part of the country, an energetic mix of markets, shops and packed thoroughfares, a place where people can easily disappear into the anonymity of bustling urbanity. It was early Januaryand Weber, at the time 0, had been in the country for about four months.

Weber had stayed at hostels, where he slipped the proprietors some cash to not record his real name, and he was now living with his girlfriend, a Thai college student named Tsom, and her little dog Lye. She seemed to be waiting for something, and she perked up when she heard a knock at the door.

It had taken a bit of convincing for her to warm up to them, especially since one of the men had two shiny silver hooks in place of his hands, but they were friendly and she told them her boyfriend was expected back in a little while. Weber assessed his visitors. One man, in his late 50s, was shorter than average, with sparkling eyes.

He was wearing a somewhat out-of-fashion leisure suit, but Weber could tell his clothes were quite expensive. At the end of each sleeve was a curved, articulated hook, capable of opening and closing like a pincer. Weber glanced back at his perplexed girlfriend and stepped out into the hallway, lightly closing the door behind him.

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The men deliberately crowded his space. Weber looked at the other man. He was taller, in his early 20s, and regarded Weber with a piercing look. The older man read into his pocket and produced a card with his hook. It read:. He was a private detective and chief of the firm, he said, then introduced the younger man as his son, Jay III. He had pursued suspects all over the globe, and he looked at Weber with the kind of practiced calm that can only come with such experience.

Armes noticed that the door had been cracked open and Tsom was surreptitiously trying to listen. Armes suggested the Orchid Hotel, where he and his son were saying. It would probably be best to flee, but at the same time he was desperate to know what their appearance truly meant. A tough-looking Thai man grunted at them from behind the wheel and drove them to the hotel.

There was another knock, and when she answered, the men apologized for the disturbance. Your boyfriend was involved with another girl and she disappeared. Nobody knows where she is. Like Tsom herself, she was pretty, with an open and trusting expression.

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The men strongly suggested that Tsom not let Donald back into the apartment when he returned. In their experience, they said, there was no telling what a cornered man might do. T he car weaved through the sardine-dense street packed with cars, buses, motorcycles, and a seemingly unending amount of tuk-tuks, finally approaching the regal hotel where The Investigators were staying.

Armes opened the door for Weber and followed him inside. They grabbed a table in the restaurant, where they sat surrounded by tourists and locals alike. Weber sat down and looked at the detectives impassively. They asked if he wanted anything to eat, to which he tentatively said yes. He was softer-spoken than one might expect a private investigator to be, speaking in measured sentences in a voice on the higher end of the register.

Still, his straightforward demeanor gave off authority. Jay III picked up from there. Weber had left the U. while the search was underway, making him a pretty obvious person of interest.

Weber looked at them. Armes had blown his hands off playing with explosives when he was a kid, and his prostheses could apply pressure three times that of the human hand. He was adept at everything from answering phones to firing weapons with them, and these tools even gave him seemingly superhuman crime-fighting abilities, like punching through windows and reaching into flames unharmed, adding to the lore surrounding him.

Corral, quit his post after a few days because the city was too dangerous. Armes readily plays up his standing in this crime-fighting tradition; his flair for self-promotion earned him minor celebrity as a larger-than-life crime fighter in the s. He appeared on TV shows and in countless articles, and his autobiography was published by MacMillan in

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