Princess Kate made her way through the ranks of the royal family, quickly transforming from a commoner into the future Queen Consort of England.

The Princess of Wales met her future husband, Prince William, in college, and the couple married in 2011 after nearly a decade together. They then welcomed son Prince George, daughter Princess Charlotte and son Prince Louis.

Since joining the royal family, Kate has developed into an activist and caring mother. Although the Prince of Wales is first in line for the throne, Kate has already started preparing for when the couple will ascend as king and queen.

‘Kate has taken on new responsibilities little by little in recent years, so it won’t be a shock when the time comes,’ royal expert Rebecca Lang told We weekly exclusively in April 2019. “William and Kate have been the favorite royals to take the crown for many generations, so the people of Great Britain are very excited about it.”

Scroll to relive highlights from Princess Kate’s life:

It sank in the North Sea almost 700 years ago, ravaged by rough weather.

But scientists are searching for what’s left of Ravenser Odd, a short-lived medieval town on an island in the Humber estuary.

Described as ‘Yorkshire’s Atlantis’, the important coastal town – which is the subject of a new exhibition in Hull – flourished in the late 13th century.

It lay just west of Spurn Point, the very tip of the sinuous peninsula that separates the North Sea and the Humber Estuary.

Since 2021, two Hull academics have been conducting research into the city’s remains on the seabed using high-resolution seabed mapping equipment.

One of them is Dr Steve Simmons, a lecturer in energy and environment at the University of Hull, who said Ravenser Odd was once a ‘prosperous settlement’.

They hope to recover any remnants of the city, such as the foundations of the sea wall and the harbour, but so far they have had no success.

“Despite its relative importance in 1299, Ravenser Odd is largely forgotten today – because it disappeared, swallowed up by the North Sea,” said Dr. Simmons in an article for The conversation.

“Conditions in the estuary make it difficult to search for traces of the lost city.”

Both Ravenser Odd and its neighbor, Hull, received their charters from Edward I on the same day: April 1, 1299.

The charter made Ravenser Odd a recognized municipality and exempted merchants from certain taxes.

This allowed the city to build its own court, prison and chapel.

At its peak it had around 100 houses and a thriving market – and was an even more important port than Hull further up the Humber.

Within about half a century, the city’s fortunes faded.

‘By the mid-14th century, the storms and strong tidal currents of the North Sea began to take their toll on the settlement,’ said Dr Simmons.

‘A devastating blow was dealt in 1362 by the storm surge of the Sint-Marcellus flood, after which the city began to be abandoned.’

A historical map shows that other islands west of the Spurn Peninsula were also lost, with names such as Orwithfleet and Sunthorpe, but Ravenser Odd was the largest.

As a result of coastal erosion, it is not likely that entire islands will be weakened and lost over time, Dr. Simmons warns.

The Holderness coastline, north of the Spurn Peninsula, is the fastest eroding coastline in Europe.

The crumbling cliffs of soft boulder clay are retreating at an average rate of 2 meters per year.

Ravenser Odd is the subject of a new exhibition at the Hull History Center running until Thursday 30 May.

It contains important documents, including maps of medieval Hull and the original charters of Hull and Ravenser Odd, borrowed from the National Archives.

“Despite its proximity to Hull, the story of Ravenser Odd is relatively unknown,” says councilor Rob Pritchard, portfolio holder for Leisure and Culture.

‘An understanding of the Ravenser story and its implications for the wider Humber will enable Hull people to reflect on their own 800 years of maritime history and the opportunities to explore themes around Hull’s own development.

‘This exhibition will tell the story in many different ways and capture the imagination of residents, children and young people.’

While there is little doubt based on contemporary evidence that Ravenser Odd existed, the same cannot be said about Atlantis to which it is being compared.

It is said that the so-called ancient city was destroyed and submerged under the Atlantic Ocean, but that is not the case it is generally believed to have been invented by the Greek philosopher Plato.

Last year, another research team revealed that they had found the German equivalent of Atlantis: the city of Rungholt, which was sunk by a storm in 1362.

By Savanna Young for Daily Mail Australia

Published: 00:37 EDT, March 22, 2024 | Updated: 00:37 EDT, March 22, 2024

Zoë Foster Blake has broken her silence on buying back her stake in her skincare brand Go-To after beauty company BWX went bankrupt.

The Australian author, 43, sold her 51.5 percent stake in her beauty brand to the ASX-listed beauty conglomerate for $89 million for the first time in 2021.

But just two years later, Zoë and Go-To co-founder Paul Bates bought back their controlling stake in the company for a fraction of the $21.8 million price, after BWX went into administration in April 2023.

Reflecting on the turbulent time, Zoë admitted she felt ‘way out of her depth’ with the deal as there is no ‘handbook’ for finding the perfect business partner and investor.

“How did you know when it was the right time? How did you know they were the right partner? Because there is no manual,” she told the newspaper Financial Overview. ‘

The wife of comedian Hamish Blake said she felt “motherly” towards Go-To and did everything she could to save the company after the BWX deal unraveled.

‘There’s nothing like seeing your baby in trouble to get you started. I thought, ‘I’m here, I’m going to protect my baby at all costs.’ I felt very motherly, nothing has strengthened me as much as this,” she said.

‘I thought I might leave the company next year [as per the original BWX deal] is unfathomable now, I’m swinging all the way back in,” she added.

Zoe also discussed her blossoming career as a businesswoman and admitted that she was never a child with big business ambitions and that she is the advertisement for learning as she discussed how to overcome recent hurdles.

She said she put everything into her decision to buy back her shares to ensure she was doing the right thing for her brand, admitting: ‘I couldn’t live with myself if I messed up.’

Despite the turbulent times, Zoë is celebrating Go-To’s tenth anniversary this year and organized a party last weekend to commemorate the incredible achievement.

In an Instagram post, Zoë spoke about her brand’s “brilliant team” as she celebrated ten years of her “thriving” business with a low-key at-home party.

‘It is a real pleasure and a privilege to take care of your skin. I love this company, this community and this adventure. Here’s cheers to ten years,” she wrote.

For the drinks reception, which she hosted at her home, she cut a glamorous figure in a beautiful peach satin dress as she pulled out all the stops for the party.

Last year, Zoë bought back her stake in Go-To Skincare for $21.8 million, after selling it to BWX for $89 million two years earlier.

“This is an incredible brand and company, with a very passionate team and an incredibly loyal and supportive customer,” she said The Australian Financial Review at the time it buys back its shares.

“It is my joy and privilege to give both my full focus and attention [to Go-To].’

Zoë, who founded the brand in 2014, continued as Chief Creative Officer and Director of Go-To after initially selling her shares to BWX, and is now back at full speed running her business.

BWX suffered a $335 million loss in the 2021-2022 financial year, with mining magnate Andrew Forrest stepping in to save the company.

Go-To had distanced itself from BWX, saying it is operationally independent, despite BWX owning 51 percent of the shares.

BWX revealed in February 2023 that it had lost another $100 million in the first half of the fiscal year when the company’s CEO Rory Gration resigned.

In April, BWX was admitted voluntarily. KPMG was appointed to deal with its collapse.

Handing back the clementine tart to my dinner party hostess, I tell her I want a bigger slice. Hardly polite behaviour, especially as I’ve just told her that when we first met, I thought she was a b***h. But after six glasses of wine, I don’t care.

Alcohol has freed me from my responsibilities as a friend, mother, daughter and wife so that I’m guffawing at my own wisecracks, impervious to the feelings of others. In my drunken parallel world, I am attractive, I am witty, I am charming… but my husband Chris looks confused as I make heart shapes across the table at him with my fingers like a teenager.

Six hours later, I am staring into my bloodshot eyes as I rest my forehead against the cool glass of my bathroom mirror. Reminded of the last time I had a hangover of this magnitude, back in December 2021, I am overcome with a familiar sense of shame and nausea.

For more than two years, not so much as a drop of alcohol touched my lips. After nearly three decades of regular, enthusiastic and at times heavy drinking, I credited sobriety with newfound clarity, increased confidence and a stable mood.

The more I learned about the damage alcohol does physically, psychologically and societally, the more determined I was to avoid it. And I’d found it easier than I’d thought.

Having embarked on a new sober life at the start of 2022, I lasted until January 20 this year, when, after 750 alcohol-free days, I became a drinker again. I have drunk six times since then, to varying degrees, of which last weekend’s display was by far the most extreme — a deliberate, if destructive, attempt to see if I still enjoyed the sensation of getting drunk.

I didn’t make the decision to drink again lightly. Most of us are aware of the dangers of alcohol, but I’d reached the disappointing conclusion that it seemed integral to my social life and sense of belonging. Unlike so many other sober people I admire, in a society still obsessed with alcohol, I am too weak to go against the grain.

On top of that, increasingly sobriety had come to feel like another form of perfectionism, a way of proving my worth, a stick to beat myself with — less an achievement than a millstone around my neck. The longer I abstained, the further I had to fall from the pedestal on which I’d put myself. I knew drinking again would trigger complex feelings of guilt and relief, shame and liberation, but I was intrigued to see whether it would prove worth it in the long run.

For much of my adult life, alcohol has been part of my identity, turning me into ‘fun Toni’ at parties and helping me switch off after a stressful day.

Two pregnancies and five Dry Januarys notwithstanding, I had drunk alcohol every week since I was a teenager. I could stop at one glass, but usually wanted more.

As a mother of two children, now aged 13 and 11, I saw wine as an essential antidote to the hard graft of parenting — often drinking half a bottle after a hard day. During lockdown, my drinking increased to the extent that I even taught my then 11-year-old daughter how to make my daiquiris.

I drank more than the recommended 14 units a week, but, I reassured myself, no more than many fortysomething women. Though aspects of my drinking were problematic I did not, as far as every popular metric around drinking was concerned, have a problem.

Increasingly, however, hangovers left me racked with anxiety over what I might have said or done wrong. After a particularly boozy Christmas in 2021, I wondered if life would feel easier without alcohol.

Halfway through Dry January 2022, I decided to quit for longer, signing up to Monument, an online sobriety school. Unlike AA, which maintains alcoholism is a disease that can never be cured, Monument believes alcohol abuse is a spectrum and that alcohol — addictive to everyone — is the culprit, rather than the person drinking it.

As months passed, I saw alcohol in an increasingly sinister light. Yes, much of my drinking had seemed harmless, but it had also been behind every traumatic event in my life: from fracturing my wrist as a student to getting sacked from my first job during work drinks. It had also stopped me developing healthy coping strategies for difficult situations. Meeting new friends or dating? The easy, instant solution became drink.

Yet stopping was easier than I expected, even at events — birthdays, a wedding, two funerals — where our instinctive reaction is often to drink.

Sober, I read voraciously, my productivity soared and my skin glowed. I felt braver, kinder, capable of making small talk at parties without the social lubrication of alcohol.

My husband, who has always been a moderate drinker who can take or leave alcohol, was pleased — he’d always thought I was happier not drinking — and my children happy they had more of my attention.

Yet privately, a part of me also felt embarrassed. I hadn’t hit rock bottom, crashed my car or streaked naked while drunk. I was just a midlife mum who liked wine a bit too much. Was stopping drinking entirely a tad melodramatic? An attention-seeking ploy?

My friends, most of them enthusiastic drinkers, were supportive but surprised by my all-or-nothing drinking strategy. Yet as an all-or-nothing person, I was convinced if I had one glass, I’d want another — and I’d soon be back to a life where weekends without wine seemed inconceivable.

I marked a year alcohol-free with mixed emotions — making a big deal out of it felt fraudulent.

To stay motivated, I knew I needed further goals to aspire to. Yet, slowly, my good intentions unravelled.

I signed up to a novel-writing course but dropped out halfway through. I couldn’t conquer the wine-avoiding chocolate habit that had seen me gain half a stone. Meanwhile, my social media use soared as I tried to get the missing dopamine hit from likes and comments. Instead, constantly comparing myself to others made me feel anxious and depleted.

In short, sobriety no longer seemed transformational — after gaining in confidence during the first year, the benefits had plateaued and I began to feel bored.

Towards the end of last year, I admitted to myself I missed drinking. Not for its stress-relieving properties — I’d learned that if you simply sit with difficult emotions, they will pass. What I lacked was alcohol’s licence for stupidity and relief in a serious adult world.

Nobody had treated me like an outsider but, increasingly, I felt like one.

Sobriety influencers suggest we ditch heavy-drinking friends and seek support networks among non-drinkers. But I loved my friends, and at 45 had neither the time nor energy to find new ones.

I struggled to shake a gnawing sense of otherness: on the sidelines of my son’s football match as parents anticipated their lunchtime pint; at the mulled wine table outside the school Christingle service; and when a friend’s face dropped when she realised the bottle of Prosecco I’d turned up with was non-alcoholic.

So in early January, ahead of a reunion, I told my three university friends that I would be drinking. They said they loved me drunk or sober but jumped to get a second bottle of Prosecco when I arrived.

Chris was apprehensive. He had supported me more than anyone in my decision not to drink. But my heart hammered with excitement and trepidation.

I expected the Prosecco to taste disgusting — as alcohol does to a teenager — but the bubbles sparkled deliciously on my tongue. I felt overwhelmed and tearful that, at least, I had finally made my decision.

A few sips later and I felt a familiar sense of giddiness. I had planned to stop after one glass — a new ground rule, along with not drinking at home or in response to stress. But the detachment from being slightly drunk, and delight at being with friends, rendered rules ridiculous. I drank another glass and a half of white wine over lunch.

For a few hours, I felt blissfully removed from the outside world. It was only as the effects wore off that I wondered what alcohol actually contributed to the occasion. An illusion of joy, undoubtedly. But were my conversations more meaningful as a result? Was my laughter more heartfelt?

I wasn’t sure.

My husband was relieved I seemed lucid on my return. But I woke at 5am with a dry mouth and sense of unidentified panic — a reaction to the alcohol, undoubtedly, but perhaps guilt at starting drinking again, too.

I’d forgotten how deeply unpleasant I am with a hangover. Groggy and irritated, I snapped at my daughter for making a mess icing cakes and couldn’t muster enthusiasm for my son’s football match. The children didn’t say anything, but I felt a terrible mother.

Alcohol can be detected on the breath for up to 14 hours after a drink, but I believe it affected me for the rest of the week.

Seven days later, friends were incredulous when I said I was still too hungover to drink again. While the effects may have been psychological, research shows that after a long period of abstinence, our functional tolerance (the ability to withstand impairments such as slurred speech) and metabolic tolerance (the rate at which the liver eliminates alcohol from the body) reduces.

My children had been so proud of me for not drinking that I was too ashamed to tell them I’d started again. They found out a fortnight later, through my daughter’s friend, after I wrote about it on Instagram. Yet I was surprised by their mostly sympathetic reaction.

‘I just don’t think after two years you’re going to get drunk any more,’ my daughter reassured me — and I realised she might be right. It was the permission I had given myself to drink, more than the drink itself, that I had found liberating.

It was nearly a month before I drank again at a pub with friends. As soon as the Sauvignon Blanc hit my empty stomach, my inhibitions were lowered, conversations seemed less guarded, more intimate… and, in truth, more fun. When my glass was finished (we were all driving), I felt a tangible sense of loss.

One glass, I realised, would probably never feel enough. Yet it was enough to make me wake at 5am, feeling miserable. I also believe alcohol made me more emotional and less resilient that week. I flew off the handle when Chris forgot to get the firewood and cried during an episode of Friends.

I wondered if, for moderate drinkers, a long period of abstinence could act as a circuit-breaker — rewiring the brain to consume less. If so, it was a huge relief I appeared to be one of them.

Yet even drinking a glass or two sporadically over a period of weeks, I noticed my skin looked more lined, spots appeared around my nose and chin, and my sleep, even on nights I wasn’t drinking, was disrupted. To assuage my guilt, I exercised harder, braved howling gales to run when injury allowed and spent 45 minutes instead of 30 on my exercise bike. I turned down crisps to compensate for the calories in wine and ate less chocolate. I lost 5lb, but it was a pyrrhic victory.

But I was also curious to know if the sense of abandon being drunk once provided, and that I used to crave, still held the same appeal. Hence this weekend’s dinner party. ‘I might start swearing,’ I warned the other guests.

‘I haven’t seen drunk Toni for so long,’ one friend said excitedly; another told me I was ‘sparkling’. Though I wanted my sober self to be enough, I was quietly thrilled by the compliment.

My memories began to blur after four glasses of champagne, and by 9pm, when I had moved on to Sancerre, I was slurring my words. My husband says I’m more interesting sober, ‘because you’re repeating yourself endlessly when drunk’. Nevertheless, I was overcome with affection for him — hence the out-of-character hearts across the table.

The freedom from the pandemonium of my midlife thoughts — work, children, chores, repeat — is welcome.

Of course, it comes at a cost. By the taxi ride home I was hiccupping, and I woke with a jolt at 4.27am, with a sense of self-loathing that lingered 48 hours on.

As I type, I’m wondering whether my behaviour towards my hostess warrants an apology, and vow not to get that drunk again.

‘So, was it worth it?’ a fellow guest WhatsApps me.

To which I say, I just don’t know. While I don’t think I’ll ever get that drunk again, an all-out ban isn’t on the cards either. A life of total sobriety no longer appeals.

SHE once took ‘naughty’ slimming pills to keep her weight off – but Helen Lederer thinks she has finally learned to accept her body as it is.

The veteran comedian and actress, who joins Coronation Street as Ken Barlow’s latest love interest next one week, says: “It’s crazy what I would put up with just to lose some weight.

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“But you just have to forget about it and move on.”

Helen, 69, who rose to fame as a comic in the early 1980s and later starred in the TV sitcom Absolutely Fabulous, admits that if, as an emerging actress, she had been given trendy slimming tricks Wegovy or Ozempic, she would have jumped at the chance to try them out. to take.

“The shots sound like a dream come true,” she says of the diabetes medication that has helped celebrities like Sharon Osbourne and Oprah Winfrey lose weight.

‘If only they had had that when I was young…’ . .

I haven’t had the figure of a model, or the type of attractive actress, so I’ve experimented with dieting all my life, limiting myself to 400 calories a day.

“And if skinny shots help people be healthy, then that’s great.

“Plus, it’s prescribed by professionals, unlike the naughty diet pills I used.”

Weight loss medications are big now newsMorgan Stanley Research expects the market for obesity drugs to rise to £60 billion by 2030.

And Helen can understand the call well.

She says, “In life you always think, ‘Oh, if only I had perfect legs.’ . . ‘You always just want the perfect body, so it makes sense why these have become popular.

“I haven’t had the figure of a model, or the type of attractive actress, so all my life I’ve experimented with dieting, including limiting myself to 400 calories a day.”

The mother-of-one, who grew up in Eltham, south-east London, added: “I was no stranger to trying anything when I needed to lose weight, it didn’t matter how I did it.

“I managed to get slim, but then I got tired of it, so I gained weight.

“It had a lot of ups and downs.

“If I had gotten the skinny shot when I was younger, who knows? Maybe it would have helped me.

“It’s great that it works for people and it’s amazing how far science has come.”

Helen, who will appear in Corrie next Wednesday and catches the eye of Ken Barlow on a stag night, says she loved starring opposite William Roache, 91, the Street’s longest serving actor.

‘It’s a burden to be different’

“Bill was such a charming, lovely man,” says Helen, who admits she “dropped everything” when she was offered the role.

But while Helen may feel better about herself these days, she has struggled with her body image for decades.

At 6ft 4in, she has yo-yoed from a size 10 to a size 16 throughout her career and admits she starved herself to stay thin.

“I’ve been in different phases of my body my whole life,” she says.

“For years I had phases where I had to switch on and off diet pills.

‘When they worked I thought they were great, but it wouldn’t take long for your heart to start racing.

“I remember there was a comedy series I was in Scotland and I don’t think I ever ate anything while I was taking it – I just drank a lot of wine.

“Now I look back and think, ‘How?’ But then people just did this and got on with it.

“It really was like living the Ab Fab life: ‘I’m the muggins that really do it’.”

Helen started her career as a stand-up comedian at London’s Comedy Store, and quickly became one of the country’s most popular TV personalities, working with acts such as French & Saunders, Rik Mayall and Harry Enfield.

I didn’t look particularly conventional and it’s a bit difficult to be different

But it wasn’t easy being a young woman in the male-dominated comedy world and Helen remembers how she had to develop a thick skin.

“It used to be that a funny woman who didn’t look normal or average was someone to avoid,” says Helen, who releases her memoir Not That I’m Bitter on April 11.

She adds: “I didn’t have the look of it, so I don’t think I was necessarily that accepted through any group because I didn’t fit into any category.

“I didn’t look particularly conventional and it’s a bit difficult to be different.

“But I guess as you get older you just have to come to terms with it.

“If I can make people laugh, I just have to try where I can.”

Devastated by insecurities about her body, Helen says she would cover up in clothes that distracted from her physique.

“I would dress functionally and not wear clothes where someone could see my bosom, or mine, you know what,” says Helen, who has a daughter named Hannah, 33, with her first husband Roger Alton, a former newspaper editor . married 1989-1991.

She says, “You don’t want people to watch it, especially if you’re trying to be funny.

“People can’t help but make comments.”

‘I was that big person… who was funny’

Despite setbacks in her career, Helen is happily married GP Chris Browne has persevered for 25 years since 1999, landing a semi-regular role at ratings giant Ab Fab as idiot magazine contributor Catriona.

“I always wanted to work in comedy and I must have been so determined that no one would stop me from doing that,” she says.

“I’m not saying it all went smoothly.

“It’s a competitive world and society was different then.

“I was the big person in the class who was funny, so I played on that, which I thought worked.

“I didn’t wear glamorous clothes and I never tried to. I understood that look was not for me.

“I wore pants instead of skirts and made sure I had things that covered my crotch.”

One thing Helen has always resisted is the urge to have cosmetic surgery.

“If people want to make adjustments, that’s fine, but personally it’s not for me,” says the star, who also appeared in the series Celebrity Big Brother in 2017.

‘I don’t agree with some people’s choices about what they do with their faces, but that’s to each their own, right?

“I stay away from judgment. It’s not up to me to do that.

“People who have had all this dental work done now look more uniform.

“We used to be a rough old mix – we were probably quite ugly.

‘It sounds terrible, just like in the war, but that’s because we didn’t have the opportunity to change ourselves. We just kept going.

“But I think all those things, like cosmetic surgery, are great – if they work.

“On the other hand, for me there are areas that I have left untouched – probably too untouched.

“I don’t know if I should try it, maybe?

“I think that might become something else to worry about.”

After four decades in showbiz, the actress, who also starred on TV in medical soap Doctors and drama series Midsomer Murders, shows no signs of slowing down.

She says: “I’m still going to continue wherever life takes me.

“I like to have a party and I certainly won’t stop that.

“My motto in life now is just keep going, and maybe gain more self-confidence.”

Helen works with the liqueur Warnincks Original Advocaat

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THE football world held its breath ahead of tonight’s big international clash as San Marino attempted to end their two-decade wait for victory.

However, the microstate in northeastern Italy will have to wait and see after missing a golden opportunity for a golden win.

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San Marino is ranked as the worst national team according to the FIFA rankings, having lost 192 of the 201 matches it had contested before tonight.

It is the fifth smallest country in the world with a landmass of 61 km2 – about half the size of Manchester – and a population of just 33,000.

Yet goals in each of their last three matches – including against Denmark, who were until recently ranked in the top 20 countries in the world – appeared to show an upturn in their fortunes.

And a match against Caribbean side Saint Kitts and Nevis – ranked 63 places above San Marino at 210th in the FIFA rankings – presented a great opportunity to finally get a win on the board after twenty years.

San Marino was sensationally the bookmakers’ favorites to win the match in Serravalle.

Things started well when Filippo Berardi scored a penalty after 21 minutes to give the hosts a 1-0 lead.

It led to a fan, who goes by ‘San Marino fan account’ on social media and started a campaign to have Jose Mourinho rule the nation, saying: ‘BERARDI YOU SEXY SEXY SUN OF A BEACH.’

The cheers didn’t last long, however, as Tyquan Terrell evened the score in the 31st minute.

CASINO SPECIAL – BEST CASINO WELCOME OFFERS

Things got worse on the stroke of half-time when Andre Burley scored a second for the visitors after the home side failed to clear their lines from a corner.

Any hopes of San Marino mounting a comeback were crushed shortly after the break when Harry Panayiotou scored a third in the 49th minute.

The match would end 3-1, meaning San Marino is now without a win in 137 games.

And it means Liechtenstein and Anguilla can both breathe a sigh of relief that their own joint record of 35 games without a win would not become the new holder.

Liechtenstein is the only team to beat San Marino in its history, with a 1-0 win in 2004 thanks to a goal from Andy Selva, the country’s all-time top scorer with eight goals.

San Marino captain Matteo Vitaioli made his debut some 17 years ago but is yet to win.

However, all is not lost.

The match will be repeated on Sunday, which means Vitaioli and Co will have the chance to make amends.

As quoted by the BBC ahead of the first match of the double-header on the possibility of a victory, the 34-year-old said: “It would mean that I am part of the history of the national team of my home country, so it is final goal.

“It represents an opportunity to leave a mark, something that cannot be lost. It would be something that would be remembered in 2050 and beyond because there have been so few victories.”

BEAUTIFUL ancient carvings of celestial bodies and animals have been discovered on cliffs in Brazil.

They are said to be 2,000 years old and depict a variety of things including celestial figures, wild boars and footprints.

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The discovery was made according to Brazil’s Jalapão State Park Living Science.

During the three expeditions, researchers from Brazil’s National Institute of Historical and Artistic Heritage found 16 sites.

“This proximity suggests a possible link between the sites and clarifies the settlement patterns of the ancient communities that inhabited the region,” lead archaeologist Rômulo Macêdo told us. Living Science.

The paintings therefore helped researchers understand the layout of the ancient community.

Red paintings have also been found at the site, but they are said to be older than the carvings.

This could possibly mean that they were painted by a different cultural group.

It is thought that the pre-colonial indigenous peoples of Jalapão created the carvings.

According to Live Science, no engravings from this group have been found so far.

This makes the discovery extremely important to learn more about this lesser-known culture.

It is thought that stone tools and ceramic artefacts found at the site were used to create the carvings.

What the rock art means is still a mystery, but researchers think it may have a spiritual meaning.

“Further analysis of petroglyphs and archaeological excavations at the sites will provide new information about the way of life and spirituality of these indigenous groups,” Macêdo told LiveScience.

Despite its rare rock art, Jalapão State Park is threatened by vandalism, deforestation and erosion.

The National Institute for Historical and Artistic Heritage would work with research institutions to protect the area.

By Sarah Rainey

Published: 4:31 PM EDT, March 20, 2024 | Updated: 4:44 PM EDT, March 20, 2024