Matt Snader visits some controversial archaeological sites, some of which are attributed to Vikings.

A compelling argument that connects the lost treasure of the Knights Templar to the mysterious money pit on Oak Island, Nova Scotia, that has baffled treasure hunters for two centuries • Fascinating occult detective work linking the Cathars, the Scottish Masons, and Renne-le-Chateau to the elusive treasure pit on Oak Island • Draws on new evidence recently unearthed in Italy, France, and Scotland to provide a compelling solution to one of the world's most enduring mysteries When the Order of Knights Templar was ruthlessly dissolved in 1307 by King Philip the Fair of France it possessed immense wealth and political power, yet none of the treasure the Templars amassed has ever been found. Their treasure is rumored to contain artifacts of spiritual significance retrieved by the order during the Crusades, including the genealogies of David and Jesus and documents that trace these bloodlines into the royal bloodlines of Merovingian France. Placing a Scottish presence in the New World a century before Columbus, Steven Sora paints a credible scenario that the Sinclair clan of Scotland transported the wealth of the Templars--entrusted to them as the Masonic heirs of the order--to a remote island off the shores of present-day Nova Scotia. The mysterious money pit there is commonly believed to have been built before 1497 and has guarded its secret contents tenaciously despite two centuries of determined efforts to unearth it. All of these efforts (one even financed by American president Franklin Delano Roosevelt) have failed, thanks to an elaborate system of booby traps, false beaches, hidden drains, and other hazards of remarkable ingenuity and technological complexity.

A cache of over 100 gold, silver and other items, the richest collection of rare and unique Viking-age objects ever found in Britain or Ireland, was unearthed by a metal detectorist in 2014. A large fundraising campaign ensured that what has come to be known as 'the Galloway Hoard' was saved for the nation. Having lain undiscovered since the beginning of the 10th century, it now provides an extremely rare opportunity to research and reveal many lost aspects of the Viking Age. There is a chance to see the treasure at the National Museum of Scotland 18 February - 18 October 21. The exhibition will subsequently go on tour to Kirkcudbright, Aberdeen and Dundee.The accompanying book places the hoard in a wider historical context and showcases the conservation and research work currently being undertaken to understand the hoard and its secrets. Exhibition: National Museum of Scotland, Edinburgh, UK (29.05.-12.09.2021) / Kirkcudbright Galleries, UK (10.2021) / Aberdeen Archives, UK (2022).

Ten true treasure hunting stories from around the world -- the book's illustrations incorporate games and activities; facts, jokes and riddles appear on every page and it includes treasure hunting tips and resources.

In Ireland, few figures have generated more hatred than Oliver Cromwell, whose seventeenth-century conquest, massacres, and dispossessions would endure in the social memory for ages to come. The Devil from over the Sea explores the many ways in which Cromwell was remembered and sometimes conveniently 'forgotten' in historical, religious, political, and literary texts, according to the interests of different communities across time. Cromwell's powerful afterlife in Ireland, however, cannot be understood without also investigating his presence in folklore and the landscape, in ruins and curses. Nor can he be separated from the idea of the 'Cromwellian': a term which came to elicit an entire chain of contemptuous associations that would begin after his invasion and assume a wholly new force in the nineteenth century. What emerges from all these memorializing traces is a multitudinous Cromwell who could be represented as brutal, comic, sympathetic, or satanic. He could be discarded also, tellingly, from the accounts of the past, and especially by those which viewed him as an embarrassment or worse. In addition to exploring the many reasons why Cromwell was so vehemently remembered or forgotten in Ireland, Sarah Covington finally uncovers the larger truths conveyed by sometimes fanciful or invented accounts. Contrary to being damaging examples of myth-making, the memorializations contained in martyrologies, folk tales, or newspaper polemics were often productive in cohering communities, or in displaying agency in the form of 'counter-memories' that claimed Cromwell for their own and reshaped Irish history in the process.

Read the Snader's experiences hunting bears, flying airplanes, and helping start a church in Alaska.