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They tested a seat so people with disabilities could ride a camel. Here's how it went.

On edge of the Sahara Dunes, a few miles outside of the Moroccan town of Merzouga, a camel named Omalise seems to suspect something is up.

On her back is a bulky contraption — a tall fabric seat held in place by metal piping and tied down with a tangle of unfamiliar straps.

Image by Eric March via Morocco Accessible Travel Consultants.

It doesn't hurt, but it's not her usual saddle, and it's definitely not heavy enough to be a rider. Unclear what the attentive crowd of rapidly chattering humans around her wants her to do, she tries to stand up.

Within milliseconds, three trainers hustle over to coax the confused camel back to the ground.

"Of course, right now, the camel is a bit uncomfortable with the situation, but she’ll get used to it," says Mbark, Omalise's handler, through a translator. Mbark has lived semi-nomadically around the pack animals his entire life. For the past 12 years, he's worked in the country's booming tourism industry, facilitating camel excursions for visitors who want an up-close-and-personal introduction to the desert.

Today, he's spending his evening preparing his impatient camel to give tourists with disabilities the opportunity to experience the type of Hollywood epic-worthy trek through the desert sands they imagine when they dream of his home country.

Riding a camel has long been out of reach for travelers who lack full mobility, but Morocco Accessible Travel Consultants (MAT) hopes to change that with the advent of a custom saddle that mimics the action of a wheelchair on the animal's back.

The seat is the brainchild of Erik Neufeld and Jeremy Schmidt, who purchased the tour company in 2016 with the goal of providing their disabled clients access to the country's full range of historic sites, restaurants, markets, and natural attractions.

Getting a client onto a camel and over the dunes (a "classic Morocco" experience, according to the pair) is a problem that has perplexed them from day one — and one they believe they're finally getting close to solving.

Omalise. Image by Eric March via Morocco Accessible Travel Consultants.

"There were other parts of Morocco where we were like, 'Yeah, we can see how this will work accessibility-wise,' but the desert, that was constantly, 'How do we make this work?'" Neufeld explains.

In a few weeks, a colleague from Eastern Europe who studies the effects of equipment on a person's body is coming to test the saddle. To prepare for her visit, Neufeld volunteered to be the saddle's first human guinea pig.

In an effort to meet the deadline, Neufeld, an aircraft mechanic by training, is working furiously with Mbark, a local welder, and Schmidt, a physical therapist by training to make sure it can support a disabled rider without discomforting or harming accommodating animals like Omalise.

An early stage version of the seat. Photo by Erik Neufeld.

"We have Moroccans, Americans, Eastern Europeans all working together to make it possible for someone to experience the desert in a unique way," he says.

For the estimated 1 billion people worldwide living with a disability, traveling the globe is slowly becoming easier.

Beginning in 2014, the United Nations World Tourism Organization began holding conferences on accessible travel, establishing a set of guidelines and goals for nations to make their iconic sites more hospitable for disabled tourists.

In places like much of Morocco, where accessible infrastructure often coexists with ancient buildings, narrow streets, and impassable staircases, companies like MAT work to fill in the gaps.

"If we advertise something as accessible, people have certain expectations of what that is," Neufeld says. The company designs itineraries for its clients to maximize the amount they can accomplish independently — and organizes transportation and accommodation around their particular physical needs.

The camel chair is an ambitious step beyond MAT's usual expertise. The centerpiece of the device is an articulating seat that adjusts with the rider's body. Moveable armrests allowing for simplified transfer between wheelchair and seat, and a custom frame allows the rider to slide neatly into a traditional saddle.

Ultimately, Neufeld and Schmidt hope to make the chair available to Moroccan children with disabilities as well as their tourist clients, allowing many to experience the Sahara for the first time.

Still, it's a work in progress.

On a second try, Neufeld attempts to hoist himself into the saddle from a raised platform.

In a rush to climb aboard, the platform tips under his weight and Omalise, spooked by the activity, stands up again.

Image by Eric March via Morocco Accessible Travel Consultants.

After wrestling her down, Mbark and his team work to calm the anxious camel, tying her at the knee to prevent further surprises.

"If [Neufeld] falls, no one cares, but if our client falls, that’s a bigger issue," Schmidt notes, wryly.

Before finding MAT, Jane Romm, a teacher from New York, was skeptical of taking any sort of organized tour of Morocco.

Like many independent travelers, she prefers setting her own schedule to traveling on a set guided itinerary.

Since her husband was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis, she and her family have continued to travel the world, developing new strategies along the way.

"My sons and I, we’re like a well-oiled machine the way we handle the wheelchair," Still, her husband's declining mobility made exploring the North African country on their own a daunting thought.

Ultimately, having a trained physical therapist on staff at MAT, and a driver who refused to leave her husband in the van once, even spending an evening running from restaurant to restaurant attempting to locate an accessible restroom — confirmed the value of a trip designed around their specific needs.

Jane Romm (C) and family in Morocco. Photo by Jane Romm.

"We looked at each other and were like, 'Why didn’t we ever do this before?" she explains. "What’s wrong with us? Why are we trying to conquer the world ourselves?'"

On his third attempt to test the chair, Neufeld finally slides from the platform into the seat. The handlers release the ropes and Omalise stands on cue.

As she trots nonchalantly along the sand, Neufeld rocks back and forth in the seat, trying not to engage the muscles in his core — simulating the potential effect of the ride on a client who lacks upper body strength.

Image by Eric March via Morocco Accessible Travel Consultants.

He sways unsteadily, like an exhausted club-goer who's had one too many, as Mbark and crew spot him from below. It's hard to watch. But he finishes the ride without falling.

For Neufeld, the test run was a "wild cocktail of exhilaration mixed with some anxiety" — a promising start, though a harrowing one.

"In many ways you could compare it to being on a roller coaster," he says.

Meanwhile, Mbark, observing from the ground, continued to noodle on prospective modifications.

"Because we have a new saddle here, it’s very common with new saddles that they don’t have good balance," he explains. "Once we figure out the balance issues, it will work great."

The crew hopes that adding more ballast to stabilize the seat, while making its metal frame less rigid and more adaptable to the fluid motion of the camel, will steady the chair.

After an exhausting hour of testing, Omalise sets off toward home on her own, as Mbark speeds off along a different route on his motorbike.

Neufeld, meanwhile, plans to make some modifications in the morning. Until then, he will continue risking his own body to make sure the project remains on schedule.

For those who live abroad, traveling to Morocco isn't an essential experience, and it's certainly not one available to everyone with a disability.

For those lucky enough to get the opportunity — Schmidt and Neufeld are working to provide far more than access ramps and bars on the toilet for travelers to a place they feel fortunate to call home.

"To go see the desert, to go see the ocean, to see the mountains [in the U.S.], you’re talking about multiple days and plane trips," Schmidt says. "Here you can do it all in the same week."

Riding a camel might not be something most people need to do. But life is more than things you need to do. So, yes, a few hours bopping around the desert is not necessarily going to make or break anyone's life. But for travelers with disabilities, a working accessible saddle could open the world just a little bit wider.

With a little luck, the camels will learn to see it that way too.

Family

'It's not Little Sun': Mom admits she's having trouble pronouncing her newborn's name

It was fine 'til other people tried to say it and now she's confused.

via JustusMoms29/TikTok (used with permission)

Justus Stroup is starting to realize her baby's name isn't that common.

One of the many surprises that come with parenthood is how the world reacts to your child’s name. It’s less of a surprise if your child has a common name like John, Mohammed, or Lisa. But if you give your child a non-traditional name that’s gender-neutral, you’re going to throw a lot of folks off-guard and mispronunciations are going to be an issue.

This exact situation happened with TikTok user Justus Stroup, who recently had her second child, but there’s a twist: she isn’t quite sure how to pronounce her child’s name either. "I may have named my daughter a name I can't even pronounce," Stroup opens the video. "Now, I think I can pronounce it, but I've told a couple of people her name and there are two people who thought I said the same exact thing. So, I don't know that I know how to [pronounce] her name correctly."


@justusmoms29

Just when you think you name your child something normal! #2under2mom #postpartum #newborn #momsoftiktok #uniquenames #babyname #babygirl #sahm #momhumor

Stroup’s daughter is named Sutton and the big problem is how people around her pronounce the Ts. Stroup tends to gloss over the Ts, so it sounds like Suh-en. However, some people go hard on the Ts and call her “Sut-ton.”

"I'm not gonna enunciate the 'Ts' like that. It drives me absolutely nuts," she noted in her TikTok video. "I told a friend her name one time, and she goes, 'Oh, that's cute.' And then she repeated the name back to me and I was like, 'No, that is not what I said.'"

Stroup also had a problem with her 2-year-old son’s speech therapist, who thought the baby’s name was Sun and that there weren’t any Ts in the name at all. "My speech therapist, when I corrected her and spelled it out, she goes, 'You know, living out in California, I have friends who named their kids River and Ocean, so I didn't think it was that far off.'"

Stroup told People that she got the name from a TV show called “The Lying Game,” which she used to watch in high school. "Truthfully, this was never a name on my list before finding out I was pregnant with a girl, but after finding out the gender, it was a name I mentioned and my husband fell in love with," says Stroup. "I still love the name. I honestly thought I was picking a strong yet still unique name. I still find it to be a pretty name, and I love that it is gender neutral as those are the type of names I love for girls."

The mother could choose the name because her husband named their son Greyson.



The commenters thought Stroup should tell people it’s Sutton, pronounced like a button. “I hear it correctly! Sutton like Button. I would pronounce it like you, too!” Amanda wrote.

“My daughter’s name is Sutton. I say it the same way as you. When people struggle with her name, I say it’s Button but with a S. That normally immediately gets them to pronounce it correctly,” Megan added.

After the video went viral, Stroup heard from people named Hunter and Peyton, who are dealing with a similar situation. “I've also noticed the two most common names who run into the same issue are Hunter (people pronouncing it as Hunner or HUNT-ER) and Payton (pronounced Pey-Ton or Pey-tin, most prefer it as Pey-tin),” she told Upworthy.

“Another person commented saying her name is Susan and people always think it is Season or Steven,” Stroup told Upworthy. After having her second child, she learned that people mix up even the simplest names. “No name is safe at this point,” she joked.

The whole situation has Stroup rethinking how she pronounces her daughter’s name. Hopefully, she got some advance on how to tell people how to pronounce it, or else she’ll have years of correcting people in front of her. "Good lord, I did not think this was going to be my issue with this name," she said.

This article originally appeared last year.

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Health

Woman uses her super sense of smell to help scientists detect Parkinson's in minutes

Joy Milne first smelled the disease on her husband 10 years before his diagnosis.

Photo by Fulvio Ciccolo on Unsplash

There is currently no definitive test to detect Parkinson's.

We don’t always choose our gifts. Joy Milne’s superpower, one she inherited from her mother’s side of the family, was having a highly acute sense of smell. Milne might have never used her olfactory talent as a force for good had it not been for her late husband, Les Milne.

According to NPR, Les and Joy met in their teens and it was love at first sniff. "He had a lovely male musk smell. He really did," she told NPR.

After many years of a happy marriage, Joy noticed her husband, then in his 30s, had developed an “overpowering sort of nasty yeast smell.” The running joke-slash-complaint was that Les “wasn’t washing enough.”

Eventually Les’ scent wouldn’t be the only thing to change. Joy told NPR that her once funny, thoughtful husband completely transformed, becoming “moody,” irritable, and even aggressive. He wouldn’t receive a proper Parkinson’s diagnosis until the age of 45.

Joy didn’t suspect that she could somehow detect the disease until going with Les to a Parkinson’s support group and noticing that the same distinctive smell seemed to fill the room. After sharing the discovery with her husband, she knew she had to take action.

Joy began working with researchers at University of Edinburgh and through a series of experiments confirmed that she could sniff out Parkinson’s with flawless accuracy. Now scientists have created a breakthrough method of detection based on Joy’s special ability.

parkinsons

This new test works in mere minutes.

Twitter

Under the belief that Parkinson’s affects a person’s odor due to a chemical change in sebum, or skin oil, doctors simply run a cotton ball along the back of the neck, then identify specific molecules linked to the neurological condition. TheBBC reported that the skin-swab test is 95% accurate under laboratory conditions.

Though this medical advancement is still in its early stages, the discovery is promising. There is currently no definitive test to get a Parkinson’s diagnosis and, as Joy explained to Sky News, it is often not identified until patients have “over 50% of neuronal damage.”

Les died in 2015 at 65. An earlier diagnosis might have provided the opportunity to improve his lifestyle, which could possibly have offset symptoms. “It has been found that exercise and change of diet can make a phenomenal difference,” Joy told The Guardian.

She also recalled to BBC News that it would have meant having an explanation for the mood swings, not to mention traveling, spending more time with family… essentially, making the most out of what time was left. That perhaps is the biggest saving grace an early diagnosis could offer.

Les’ final wish before he passed was for Joy to continue using her gift, assuring that "it will make a difference." Joy is keeping that promise and currently extending her “super smeller” power to help smell other diseases like cancer and tuberculosis (TB).

While she notes that her superpower does make outings like shopping a “curse sometimes,” she also sees it as a “benefit” allowing her to help others.


This article originally appeared three years ago.

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Health

How often should you wash your sheets? Experts settle the debate once and for all.

People have all kinds of opinions on this.

Kampus Production/Canva

How often do you change your sheets?

If you were to ask a random group of people, "How often do you wash your sheets?" you'd likely get drastically different answers. There are the "Every single Sunday without fail" folks, the "Who on Earth washes their sheets weekly?!?" people and everyone in between.

According to a survey of 1,000 Americans conducted by Mattress Advisor, the average time between sheet changings or washings in the U.S. is 24 days—or every 3 1/2 weeks, approximately. The same survey revealed that 35 days is the average interval at which unwashed sheets are "gross."

Some of you are cringing at those stats while others are thinking, "That sounds about right." But how often should you wash your sheets, according to experts?

Hint: It's a lot more frequent than 24 days.

While there is no definitive number of days or weeks, most experts recommend swapping out used sheets for clean ones every week or two.

Dermatologist Alok Vij, MD told Cleveland Clinic that people should wash their sheets at least every two weeks, but probably more often if you have pets, live in a hot climate, sweat a lot, are recovering from illness, have allergies or asthma or if you sleep naked.

We shed dead skin all the time, and friction helps those dead skin cells slough off, so imagine what's happening every time you roll over and your skin rubs on the sheets. It's normal to sweat in your sleep, too, so that's also getting on your sheets. And then there's dander and dust mites and dirt that we carry around on us just from living in the world, all combining to make for pretty dirty sheets in a fairly short period of time, even if they look "clean."

Maybe if you shower before bed and always wear clean pajamas you could get by with a two-week sheet swap cycle, but weekly sheet cleaning seems to be the general consensus among the experts. The New York Times consulted five books about laundry and cleaning habits, and once a week was what they all recommend.

Sorry, once-a-monthers. You may want to step up your sheet game a bit.

What about the rest of your bedding? Blankets and comforters and whatnot?

Sleep.com recommends washing your duvet cover once a week, but this depends on whether you use a top sheet. Somewhere between the Gen X and Millennial eras, young folks stopped being about the top sheet life, just using their duvet with no top sheet. If that's you, wash that baby once a week. If you do use a top sheet, you can go a couple weeks longer on the duvet cover.

For blankets and comforters and duvet inserts, Sleep.com says every 3 months. And for decorative blankets and quilts that you don't really use, once a year washing will suffice.

What about pillows? Pillowcases should go in with the weekly sheet washing, but pillows themselves should be washed every 3 to 6 months. Washing pillows can be a pain, and if you don't do it right, you can end up with a lumpy pillow, but it's a good idea because between your sweat, saliva and skin cells, pillows can start harboring bacteria.

Finally, how about the mattress itself? Home influencers on TikTok can often be seen stripping their beds, sprinkling their mattress with baking soda, brushing it into the mattress fibers and then vacuuming it all out. Architectural Digest says the longer you leave baking soda on the mattress, the better—at least a few hours, but preferably overnight. Some people add a few drops of essential oil to the baking soda for some extra yummy smell.

If that all sounds like way too much work, maybe just start with the sheets. Pick a day of the week and make it your sheet washing day. You might find that climbing into a clean, fresh set of sheets more often is a nice way to feel pampered without a whole lot of effort.


This article originally appeared last year.

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Mic'd-up hockey goalie's hilarious self-talk during games has people in stitches

Nick the Goalie's monologuing is just delightful.

@nickthegoalie_1/TikTok

You don't have to watch hockey to enjoy Nick the Goalie's running commentary.

Goalkeepers and goaltenders in all kinds of sports play a unique role on a team. While other players have to communicate and strategize with one another as they play, a goalie just has one job—keep the ball/puck/etc. out of the goal. It's a hugely important job, but pretty straightforward.

When their team is on the other side of a field or rink, goalies watch and wait. Since their teammates know and trust that they're watching the action, they don't really have to interact with anyone most of the time. And while they can't totally zone out, they have all kinds of time to themselves while the action is happening far away.

Have you ever seen what happens when a person—especially someone who likes to talk—has a whole lot of time to themselves and no one to talk to?

Meet Nick Weston, who is giving everyone a glimpse into a world most of us only watch from afar and never get to hear. Weston is an amateur hockey player from Vancouver, Canada, who has become a TikTok sensation with his mic'd-up goalie videos under his nickname, Nick the Goalie.

Do you remember the snowboarding 4-year-old in a dinosaur costume who coined the phrase "I'm a stuck-a-saurus!" and won hearts with her adorably entertaining monologuing? Nick the Goalie is like that, only as a grown man playing a team sport.

People love Nick the Goalie's wholesome self-talk as he performs his goalie duties with gusto. (Though he often wears a Vancouver Canucks jersey, he doesn't play for a National Hockey League team. As he explained to CTV, he gets brought in to play goaltender on various local league teams.)

His videos have even been shared by ESPN and the NHL, and the comments on his videos are as fabulous as his running commentary.

Watch:

@nickthegoalie_1

Mine! #hockey #goalie #nhl #hockeyboys

"This is how I imagine a golden retriever's internal monologue. He's SO excited, I love it," wrote one commenter on Reddit.

"Only reason I gravitated towards the goalie position, other than my hatred of running, was my need to constantly sing to myself. Can relate so hard," wrote another.

A whole thread of soccer, field hockey, and lacrosse goalkeepers, as well as baseball catchers and outfielders, confirmed that this is exactly what they do—monologue, monologue, monologue.

@nickthegoalie_1

I COULD’VE DROPPED MY CROISSANT 🥐 #hockey #goalie #nhl #hockeyboys

It's hard not to smile at the the wholesomeness and hilarity of his self-talk. The singing, the squealing, the trash talk to no one in particular—it's all just so delightful.

@nickthegoalie_1

This video is a lot to take in #hockey #goalie #hockeyboys #nhl

Even people who aren't that into ice hockey are commenting with how much they enjoy his videos. As one person wrote, "Ok fine I’ll watch sports if I can get this insider commentary for every game."

So much fun. Recently, Weston has been using his social media fame to raise money for the Canucks Autism Network in addition to sharing the sport he loves. As of 2024, over 1.1 million has been raised.

Keep following Nick the Goalie on TikTok, YouTube, or Instagram.


This article originally appeared three years ago.

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Pets

Man finds a mysterious egg in London, incubates it, and launches a Pixar-worthy journey of love

When Riyadh found an abandoned egg, he had no idea that it would change his life.

Courtesy of Riyadh Khalaf/Instagram (used with permission)

When Riyadh found an egg, he had no idea how much it would change his life.

The story of Riyadh and Spike starts like the opening to a children's book: "One day, a man walking through the city spotted a lone egg where an egg should not have been…" And between that beginning and the story's mostly sweet ending is a beautiful journey of curiosity, care, and connection that has captivated people all over the world.

Irish author Riyadh Khalaf was out walking in London when he came upon an egg. "We just found what we think is a duck egg," Riyadh says in a video showing the milky white egg sitting in a pile of dirt. "Just sitting here on its own. No nest. No other eggs."

Thinking there was no way it was going to survive on its own, Riyadh put the egg in a paper cup cushioned with a napkin and took it home to incubate it. He said he used to breed chickens and pigeons, so he had some experience with birds. Knowing the egg could survive for a while in a dormant state, he ordered an incubator on Amazon, and the journey to see if the egg was viable began.

Even though it was "just an egg," Riyadh quickly became attached, and once it showed signs of life he took on the role of "duck dad." Every day, the egg showed a drastic change in development, and Riyadh's giddy joy at each new discovery—movement, a discernible eye, a beak outline—was palpable. He devoured information on ducks to learn as much as he could about the baby he was (hopefully) about to hatch and care for.

Finally, 28 days later, the shell of the egg began to crack. "I could see this very clear outline of the most gorgeous little round bill," Riyadh said—confirmation that it was, indeed, a duck as he had suspected. But duckling hatching is a process, and one they have to do it on their own. Ducklings instinctively know to turn the egg as it hatches so that the umbilical cord detaches, and the whole process can take up to 48 hours. Riyadh watched and monitored until he finally fell asleep, but at 4:51am, 29 hours after the egg had started to hatch, he awakened to the sound of tweets.

"There was just this little wet alien staring back at me," he said. "It was love at first sight."

Riyadh named his rescue duckling Spike. Once Spike was ready to leave the incubator, he moved into "Duckingham Palace," a setup with all of the things he would need to grow into a healthy, self-sufficient duck—including things that contribute to his mental health. (Apparently ducklings can die from poor mental health, which can happen when they don't have other ducks to interact with—who knew?)

"My son shall not only survive, but he shall thrive!" declared the proud papa.

Riyadh knew it would be impossible for Spike to not imprint on him somewhat, but he didn't want him to see him as his mother. Riyadh set up mirrors so that Spike could see another duckling (even though it was just himself) and used a surrogate stuffed duck to teach him how to do things like eat food with his beak. He used a duck whistle and hid his face from Spike while feeding him, and he played duck sounds on his computer to accustom Spike to the sounds of his species.

"It's just such a fulfilling process to watch a small being learn," said Riyadh.

As Spike grew, Riyadh took him to the park to get him accustomed to the outdoors and gave him opportunities to swim in a small bath. He learned to forage and do all the things a duck needs to do. Throughout, Riyadh made sure that Spike was getting the proper balanced nutrition he needed as well. Check this out:


After 89 days, the day finally came for Spike to leave Riyadh's care and be integrated into a community of his kind "to learn how to properly be a duck." A rehabilitation center welcomed him in and he joined a flock in an open-air facility where he would be able to choose whether to stay or to leave once he became accustomed to flying. Within a few weeks of being at the rehabilitation center, his signature mallard colors developed, marking his transition from adolescence. Spike has been thriving with his flock, and Riyadh was even able to share video of his first flight.

This is the where "And they all lived happily ever after" would be a fitting end to the story, but unfortunately, Spike and his fowl friends are living in trying times. The rehabilitation center was notified by the U.K. government in December of 2024 that the duck flock needed to be kept indoors for the time being to protect them from a bird flu outbreak and keep it from spreading.

Building an entire building for a flock of ducks is not a simple or cheap task, so Riyadh called on his community of "daunties" and "duncles" who had been following Spike's story to help with a fundraiser to build a "Duckingham Palace" for the whole flock. Riyadh's followers quickly raised over £11,000, which made a huge difference for the center's owners to be able to protect Spike and his friends.

All in all, Riyadh and Spike's story is a testament to what can happen when people genuinely care. If Riyadh had left that egg where it was, it may not have made it. If Spike hadn't survived and been moved to the rehab center, the ducks there would be in greater danger of the bird flu due to the costs of building an indoor shelter for them. Despite the ongoing bird flu threat, the story really does have a happy ending.

Thank to Riyadh for sharing Spike's journey with us. (You can follow Riyadh on Instagram here.)


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