10 places I would miss if I could no longer see or travel … (2) Spain

Work continues on La Sagrada Família … it is expected to be completed in 2026 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Patrick Comerford

I know I have been moaning about how many of my travel plans have been cancelled for the foreseeable future.

But, if I should face several weeks in self-isolation, I shall spend that time wisely, praying and keeping in touch with people through social media. In addition, there is a lot of books to read, a lot of music to listen to, a lot of games of chess to play, movies to catch up on, and there is a promise to complete some of the writing projects that have been on the ‘back boiler’ for some time.

I shall dream too, and in particular dream of travel.

Matador, the global media travel platform, sent out an encouraging email last week, saying, ‘You may not be traveling now. But you will travel again.’

It went on to say, ‘There are few things that collectively unite the world. Coronavirus has pushed us into one such moment. No one will exit this time period unchanged or unaffected. And we must do our part in this pandemic to prioritise and value our fellow humans around the world.

‘We believe travel is an essential human experience. We believe travel is the ultimate education, with the power to open minds, change perspectives, and defeat ignorance, racism, and prejudice. But we also believe that traveling should be approached responsibly, and we can’t in good faith tell you to go out into the world at this moment.

‘What we can tell you is that the day to venture, explore, and wander will come. We are already hungry for the sights of far-flung destinations, the comforting sound of laughter contrasted by unfamiliar languages, and the weight of a passport in our pocket.

‘This will pass, but we hope your appreciation for people will not. In real-time, we are witnessing the resiliency and strength of the human spirit, from the singing balconies of Italy to the healthcare workers putting the needs of others ahead of their own.

‘For the foreseeable future, we encourage you to do your part. That means distancing yourself from others as much as possible. And in the meantime, we will do our best to inform and entertain you with our most inspiring stories and videos. Our goal over the coming weeks is to connect you to the destinations outside your four walls – because we want to get you back to doing what you love and exploring soon.

‘Travel will be waiting for you: and will welcome you back like the old friend it is.’

In liturgical and preaching resources I posted last week on another site, I looked at last Sunday’s Gospel reading – the story of the man who is blind from birth and who is healed (John 9: 1-41) – and asked readers, ‘What would you miss if you were blind?’

In answer to my own question, in solidarity with people living in countries that are now in total lockdown or facing that prospect, and in tune with the idea that ‘travel is the ultimate education, with the power to open minds, change perspectives, and defeat ignorance, racism, and prejudice,’ I plan over the next few days or weeks to repost photographs of ten favourite places in a variety of countries. I began with Italy last Saturday [21 March 2020], this evening I continue with Spain, and in days or weeks to come I hope to post photographs from Greece, England, Portugal and other places.

In part I have been inspired by a posting last Tuesday from Jewish Heritage Europe (JHE), headed, ‘Social distancing or lockdown got you stuck at home? Take a virtual tour of some of Italy’s gorgeous historic Jewish heritage sites!’

The beach at La Carihuela … but there is more to the Costa del Sol than beach holidays (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

I began on Saturday with ten places in Italy I would miss in Italy if I could no longer travel or see. This evening I turn to Spain, another country in lockdown because of this pandemic.

When I first visited Spain, I had to get over two sets of prejudices: my images of Franco’s fascist Spain, and my own images of package-holiday Spain, created by Monty Python sketches about ‘terrible Torremolinos.’

But those images were taken apart on my first two visits to Spain: May Day in Madrid, and Holy Week and Easter in Málaga and La Carihuela, near Torremolinos.

I have been back to Spain regularly since, and last year I was there three times, including joining part of the pilgrim route to Santiago de Compostela. Click on the images to view them in full-screen mode. If social isolation is extended, I may even broaden my horizons.

1, The Alhambra

The Lion Fountain at the heart of Alhambra (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

2, Barcelona:

La Sagrada Família is Barcelona’s most famous building and Antoni Gaudí’s best-loved work (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

3, Córdoba:

The Mezquita-Catedral or Mosque-Cathedral of Córdoba is one of the most accomplished examples of Moorish architecture in Spain (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

4, Granada:

Flamenco buskers in a square in Granada … Andrés Segovia said Granada is ‘where the Lord put the seed of music in my soul’ (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

5, Málaga:

A fountain in front of the cathedral in Málaga (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2019)

6, Mijas:

Climbing through the whitewashed, cobbled streets of Mijas (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

7, Santiago de Compostella:

The High Altar in the cathedral in Santiago … pilgrims on the Camino and visitors climb behind the altar to embrace the silver mantle of the 13th century statue of Saint James (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

8, Seville:

In Los Baños de Doña María de Padilla in the Alcázar in Seville (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

9, Valencia:

The City of Arts and Sciences, designed by Santiago Calatrava and Félix Candela, is one of the ‘12 Treasures of Spain’ (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2020)

10, Madrid:

Madrid has a rich architectural heritage (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

La Casas de las Juderias in Seville is like no other hotel I have stayed in and is orth returning to for its own sake, no matter where it is. I have been back to Spain again and again in recent years, and have become intrigued too by the Spain that is Sefarád (ספרד).

I have found to my delight that there is more to Spain than a package holiday on the beaches of the Costa del Sol, and I would miss not seeing more of it, as well as revisiting many of the places I now treasure.

I am finding my way along the Sephardic trails and pilgrim routes in Spain (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Next: Portugal.

How a sun holiday in Spain became a challenge to long-held prejudices

There had to be more to Spain than high-rise hotels (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2014)
Patrick Comerford

For all my adult life I resisted the idea of going on a package holiday to Spain. For 40 years or more, I have travelled around the world for work and pleasure. But, apart from a weekend city break in Madrid five years ago – and that hardly counts – I had never been to Spain for a holiday.

You could say I did not know my Málaga from my Marbella, my Frigiliana from my Fuengirola, or the Costa Blanca from the Costa Brava and the Costa del Sol.

I took Spanish at school for five years, motivated perhaps by stories that it was an easier language to learn than French, German or Italian. I had inspiring teachers who introduced me to Spanish literature, from Miguel de Cervantes and Don Quixote to 20th century poets such as Federico García Lorca, and Spanish artists from Velázquez, Murillo and Goya to Miró, Picasso and Dalí.

Why, I even managed to pass Spanish at Intermediate and Leaving Certificate levels, although 45 years later I have managed to forget most of the Spanish I learned at school.

I think my reluctance to go on a package holiday to Spain was partly due to my own snobbery, disguised as political certitude. Spain was the land of Franco, Guernica and the garrotte; Spain was a land of brutality symbolised in the bullfight and the civil war chillingly depicted by George Orwell in Homage to Catalonia; Spain was the land of the Spanish inquisition and the brutal expulsion of Jews and Muslims; Spain, before the package holiday industry boomed, was popular with Irish people whose political sympathies on one hand were with the Blueshirts in the 1930s, or on the other hand with Frank Ryan who had defected to Nazi Germany.

Journalistic colleagues, including Paddy Woodworth, Colm Toibin and the late Jane Walker, chided and upbraided me for my inhibitions. But these prejudices persisted, reinforced by Monty Python sketches about Torremolinos, with half-built, high-rise hotels, Watney’s Red Barrel and pools with no water. Monty Python even reinforced my images with that sketch on the Spanish Inquisition.

Wanting more from holidays

Madrid was fine. I was there for a city break, enjoyed art galleries, museums and stately architecture, and experienced May Day.

But I knew Greek olives and olive oil were superior to Spanish olives and olive oil, and the same could be said about Greek and Spanish wine, coffee, music, poetry, mezzes or tapas, and even beaches. Zorba could out-dance Flamenco any evening. But Costa only meant coffee to me, and I had no intention of taking a Costa holiday. Holidays were not merely about sun, sand, sea and sangria. I wanted the sun, sand and sea, but in measured proportions that also took account of archaeological sites, cathedral architecture and other cultural interests.

Well, that is, until this Easter.

I have already experienced the beauty and rich spirituality of Orthodox Easter in Greece and in Cyprus. This year, Easter fell at the same time in the calendars of the Western and Eastern Churches. Easter in a Greek town or village seemed like a good idea, until we found most of the available flights and packages were priced exorbitantly – after all, every Greek wants to be at home for Easter.

Processing the Crucified Christ though the streets of La Carihuela (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2014)
A second option that came to mind was southern Italy, with the great Holy Week and Easter processions in places like Sicily. Once again, however, it was difficult to put together the right package, at the right time, at the right price.

The travel agent at Rathgar Travel in Dublin asked, ‘Why not Spain?’

‘Spain?’

I explained that this was supposed to be an Easter pilgrimage, with time for prayer, reflection and meditation … even if I did want to combine it with sunshine and time off, I had no intention of spending it in a high-rise, over-crowded sunny version of Blackpool or Clacton.

I recalled the Monty Python sketch and the fear that I might “sit next to a party of people from Rhyl who keep singing ‘Torremolinos, Torremolinos’.”

I was soon convinced of the wrongness of my prejudiced ways. Did I not know about Semana Santa and the processions with crosses and images of the Crucified Christ that take place in most villages and towns, even in the most built-up of areas?

Early on the morning on Maundy Thursday, I was on a flight to Málaga, about to spend a week on the Costa del Sol, in the Torremolinos pilloried over 40 years ago in that Monty Python sketch, staying in the Roc Lago Rojo Hotel in La Carihuela, once a picturesque fishing village on the edge of Torremolinos.

Bringing the sacred into the secular

Bringing the sacred to the secular and inviting the secular into the sacred on the beach in La Carihuela (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2014)
In the narrow streets between the hotel and the beach at La Carihuela, the tiny parish church of Our Lady of Mount Carmel, squeezed in between the bars, the cafés and the souvenir shops, offered a warm welcome, so that most of Maundy Thursday, Good Friday and Easter Day was spent following the local commemorations of Holy Week and Easter.

There was no great street parade there like the famous procession through the streets of Málaga, where confraternities of masked and hooded men carry larger-than-life statues shoulder high in penitence. But the simple foot washing ceremony at the Maundy Eucharist was all the more poignant for involving what may well have been the local butcher, baker and candlestick maker.

On the following morning, local people took it turn to carry the large, life-size image of the Crucified Christ through the streets of La Carihuela, stopping outside bars and cafés or at tiny corners abutted by small hotels and shops, and leading the prayers of the Good Friday Stations of the Cross.

At one stage, the cross was brought down through the sun beds on the beach to the shoreline, where it was raised aloft as the prayers continued. In a simple ceremony with mediaeval roots and modern interpretations, the message of Christ Crucified was being proclaimed to all without discrimination, the sacred was being brought into the secular, and the secular was invited to enter the sacred – an opportunity missed so often in many northern European societies.

The ruins of the Roman amphitheatre are a reminder of Málaga’s classical past (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2014)
Later that afternoon in Málaga, 15 km to the north, we visited the Cathedral, the Roman amphitheatre, the remains of the Moorish Alcazaba or fortress, the Church of Santiago, where Picasso was baptised, and the birthplace of Picasso, which is now a museum and educational foundation, the Fundación Picasso.

Spanish ladies in lace queuing for lunch in Málaga (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2014)
In the cathedral and the churches, many Spanish people were dressed formally as they came to pray quietly. But even the women who dress in formal black, with large, traditional lace headdresses, are “Ladies who Lunch” and they queued for lunch outside the restaurants without any hint of self-consciousness.

‘Music in my soul’

White-washed Mijas is a mountainside village that is like a balcony above the countryside of Andalucía (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2014)
We were reminded that Málaga, which still boasts of its Phoenician and Roman foundations, has roots dating back to classical times, that it was once a central meeting place of the worlds of Islam and Christianity, and that more recently it was the birthplace of one of the greatest figures in the world of Western art.

On Saturday, two of us caught a bus from Torremolinos to Fuengirola, and a second bus up to Mijas, a small town packed each day with day-trippers taking an Easter break from the brash resorts.

Mijas is a white-washed, mountainside village, 30 km south-west of Málaga and about 450 metres (about 1,500 feet) above sea level. The village is like a balcony looking out across the countryside of Andalucía and down onto Fuengirola and the coastal resorts of the Costa del Sol.

Lighting the Paschal Candle in La Carihuela (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2014)
Early on Easter morning, while it was still dark, we left our hotel room and walked through the narrow, silent, deserted streets of La Carihuela to wait on the beach for the sunrise. A few early risers were already jogging along the promenade, and one or two lone shore anglers were walking up and down the shoreline, perhaps hoping to catch some fish for breakfast. But we thought about the women who rose early before dawn to visit the tomb, and the disciples by the shore in Galilee, and how they found that Christ is Risen.

Waiting for the sunrise before dawn on Easter morning (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2014)

In My Fair Lady, Professor Higgins and Colonel Pickering are successful in teaching Eliza Doolittle that “the Rain in Spain stays mainly in the plain.” The truth is, however, very different: Spanish rain falls mainly in the northern mountains. But still, much of our Sunday and all of our Monday were washed out. When we ventured out for a walk on the beach or for a coffee we found how heavy Spanish rain can be, even on the Costa del Sol.

The rain in Spain does not stay mainly in the plain (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2014)
With the Easter celebrations over, we took a two-hour bus journey on Tuesday through the countryside of Andalucía to the foot of the Sierra Nevada mountains to visit Granada and Alhambra.

The Spanish composer Andrés Segovia once described Granada as “a place of dreams where the Lord put the seed of music in my soul.”

The buildings and the gardens of Alhambra are designed to reflect the very beauty of Paradise (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2014)
The Alhambra dates from 889, but it eventually fell into disrepair and was damaged by neglect, plunder, earthquakes and even an attempt by Napoleon’s army to blow the place up. It was almost forgotten until it was romanticised in 1832 by Washington Irving (1783-1859) in his Tales of the Alhambra. The new attention brought restoration, so that today this is one of Spain’s major tourist attractions and a Unesco World Heritage Site.

The Palace of Alhambra is a reminder of almost eight centuries of Islamic presence (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2014)

The Lion Fountain at the heart of Alhambra (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2014)
The buildings and the gardens of Alhambra are designed to reflect the very beauty of Paradise, with gardens, fountains, streams, a palace, and a mosque, all within an imposing fortress wall, flanked by 13 massive towers. We strolled through the gardens, the secluded courtyards, gardens, patios and villas where the sultans of Granada could escape from the place intrigues and politics in their search for tranquility.

The Palace of Alhambra, with its creative architectural combination of space, light, water and decoration, is one of the most intriguing works left behind in Spain after almost eight centuries of Islamic presence in the Iberian Peninsula.

Flamenco buskers in a square in Granada … Andrés Segovia said Granada is “where the Lord put the seed of music in my soul.” (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2014)

Walking through the narrow streets of Granada (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2014)
Later in the week, we experienced another intriguing presence in Spain when we visited Gibraltar. But Gibraltar is a story for another day.

The Spanish countryside below the Sierra Nevada mountains (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2014)
We found plenty of time for walks on the beach, and found it takes little time to learn to enjoy Spanish food and wine. We never got to see Seville or Cordoba, nor did we explore the possibility of crossing to Morocco. But after a week, some of that spoken Spanish I had learned 45 to 50 years ago was beginning to come back ... sometimes at unexpected moments. And I realised there is more to Spain than sun, sand, sea and sangria.

There is more to Spain than sun, sand, sea and sangria (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2014)
Canon Patrick Comerford is Lecturer in Anglicanism, Liturgy and Church History, the Church of Ireland Theological Institute. This essay and these photographs were first published in June 2014 in the Church Review (Dublin and Glendalough) and the Diocesan Magazine (Cashel, Ferns and Ossory).

In the courts of the Gardens of Paradise and in the city of dreams and music

Looking out from a window in Alhambra across the city of Granada (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2014)

Patrick Comerford

One day in mid-week, before dawn broke, I took a two-hour journey by bus from the coast at Torremolios to the foot of the Sierra Nevada mountains, 738 metres above sea level, to see the city of Granada and the Moorish citadel and palace at Alhambra.

The city of Granada was once described by the composer Andrés Segovia as “a place of dreams where the Lord put the seed of music in my soul.”

A Flamenco busker on the Mirador de San Nicolás on hill-top of Albayzin (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2014)

After breakfast along the way, our first stop was at the Mirador de San Nicolás in one of the highest points of the old hill-top quarters of Albayzin, for the spectacular views across the city and the Darro valley, to the Alhambra and the Generalife Gardens to the south, with the Sierra Nevada in the background.

We climbed through the sloping, narrow cobbled streets of the Albayzin, paved with river stones, to the square crammed with tourists catching their first glimpse of Alhambra. There, as we stood and sat in wonder, we were entertained by a pair of busking Andalucían gypsies – a Flamenco guitarist and dancer.

We retuned through the university city of Granada to reach the Alhambra, the Generalife and the Gardens.

The Alhambra has survived neglect, plunder, earthquakes and explosives (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2014

The Alhambra dates from 889, but it was thoroughly rebuilt in the mid-11th century by Mohammed ben Al-Ahmar, the Moorish King of Granada who built the palace and walls. Later it was turned into a royal palace by Yusuf I, Sultan of Granada, in 1333. The palaces were built for the Nasrid dynasty, the last Muslim emirs in Spain, and were finally surrendered to Spain’s “Catholic Monarchs”, Ferdinand and Isabella, in 1492.

The Emperor Charles V built a new palace on the site in 1527, but eventually the whole place fell into disrepair, damaged by neglect, plunder, earthquakes and even an attempt by Napoleon’s army to blow the place up.

The Alhambra was rediscovered in the 19th century by writers and travellers, and was romanticised in 1832 by Washington Irving (1783-1859) in his Tales of the Alhambra – he also wrote The Legend of Sleepy Hollow and Rip van Winkle. The new attention created an interest in restoration, and today this is one of Spain’s major tourist attractions and a Unesco World Heritage Site.

The gardens of Alhambra are designed to reflect the beauty of Paradise (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2014)

Throughout the Alhambra, the buildings and the gardens are designed to reflect the very beauty of Paradise, with gardens, fountains, streams, a palace, and a mosque, all within an imposing fortress wall, flanked by 13 massive towers.

We made our way first through the gardens to the Generalife (Jennat al Arif, “The Garden of Lofty Paradise”), with its secluded courtyards, gardens, patios and villas, protected by towers fortifications, underground cisterns, stables and the former garrison. Here the sultans of Granada could escape from the palace intrigues in the Alhambra and the busy life of the city in their search for tranquillity.

But the main part of the complex is the Palace of Alhambra, with its creative architectural combination of space, light, water and decoration to create one of the most intriguing works left behind in Spain after almost eight centuries of Islamic presence in the Iberian Peninsula.

The palace buildings include the rooms opening onto central courts, squares and rooms connected with each other by smaller chambers, passages, arches and colonnaded and pillared arcades, fountains with running water, pools designed to reflect the buildings, and a creative use of blue, red, and a golden yellow throughout.

The rich arabesque decorations of the interior of the Alhambra (Photograph: Patrock Comerford, 2014)

The buildings are covered with calligraphic inscriptions and sacred arabesque and geometrical patterns, the walls are panelled with painted tiles, and the ceilings are decorated with stalactites.

Alhambra was a castle, a palace and a courtly residence. The royal complex incorporates three main parts: the Mexuar, the Serallo and the Harem. The Mexuar houses the functional areas for business and administration. The ceilings and floors are made of dark wood and are in sharp contrast to the white, plaster walls. The Serallo, built in the 14th century, contains the Patio de los Arrayanes (Court of the Myrtles). The Harem is elaborately decorated and contains the living quarters for the wives and mistresses of the monarchs.

The large Hall of the Ambassadors was the grand reception room with the throne of the sultan. Later, it was here that Christopher Columbus received formal support from Isabel and Ferdinand for his project to sail to the New World.

The Court of the Lions, with the Fountain of Lions at its centre where the alabaster basin is supported by 12 marble whitte lions (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2014)

A low gallery supported on 124 white marble columns surrounds the Court of the Lions. The Fountain of Lions in the centre of the court is an alabaster basin supported by the figures of 12 lions in white marble, representing strength, power, and sovereignty. It is said that each hour, one lion would produce water from its mouth.

Muhammad XII of Granada, known as Boabdil, was the 22nd and last Sultan of Granda. He surrendered of Granada, the last Muslim-ruled city in Spain, in 1492 without the Alhambra itself being attacked, to the forces of the Spain’s “Catholic monarchs,” King Ferdinand II of Aragon and Queen Isabella I of Castile.

When Boabdil burst into tears after his surrender at Santa Fe, burst into tears, his mother reproached him, saying: “You weep like a woman for what you couldst not defend as a man.”

Inside the Palace of Charles V on the slopes of Alhambra (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2014)

The Alhambra reflects the culture of the last centuries of the Moorish rule of al-Andalus, reduced to the tiny Nasrid Emirate of Granada. It is a testament to Moorish culture in Spain and the skills of Muslim, Jewish, and Christian artisans, craftsmen, and builders of the era. It remains a captivating example of Muslim art and architecture in its final European stages, relatively uninfluenced by Byzantine styles.

On the way back down the slopes, we stopped briefly to visit the Palace of Charles V, a 16th century Renaissance palace that was still awaiting completion when it was abandoned.

From the Alhambra we made our way back down to the city of Granada, and as we sat out for lunch in a café in the Plaza Bib-Rambla, we were entertained once again by a busking Flamenco troupe that included a guitarist, a singer and two dancers.

The Royal Chapel was built over the former terrace of Granada’s Grand Mosque (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2014)

From there we walked through the narrow side streets to the Capilla Real or Royal Chapel of Granada. After they had taken Granada, Ferdinand and Isabella chose the city as their burial place, and the Royal Chapel was built over the former terrace of Granada’s Grand Mosque.

Spanish visitors and tourists alike queue to enter the crypt where the Catholic Monarchs, are buried beneath their effigies, alongside their daughter Juana la Loca (“the Mad”) and her husband Felipe el Hermoso (“the Fair”).

Outside the doors of the Royal Chapel, we peered into the Palazzo de la Madraza, originally an Islamic university and now part of the University of Granada.

The lengthy queues precluded a visit to the neighbouring cathedral, built on the very site of the Nasrid Grand Mosque shortly after Granada was taken by Ferdinand and Isabella. But from the plaza in front we admired its architectural styles. The cathedral is modelled in the Gothic style of the Cathedral of Toledo, but was completed in a Renaissance style, with five naves instead of the usual three and later Baroque additions.

We also stepped inside the Ayuntamiento or City Hall facing onto Plaza de Carmen. The first things the visitor sees are large statues of Ferdinand and Isabel. But this building is designed in a distinctively Moorish style, with an elaborately carved entrance, an ornate stairway and a central in Moorish-style courtyard with a fountain.

Flamenco buskers in the Plaza Bib-Rambla (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2014)

There was time for one last double espresso in one of the many cafés on Plaza de Mariana Pineda. This one of Granada’s many pretty squares and is named in honour of Mariana de Pineda y Muñoz (1804-1831), a revolutionary heroine from Granada who is generally known as Mariana Pineda.

Mariana married a revolutionary army officer, but by the age of 18 she was widowed in with two children. In 1828 she aided a jail break by condemned revolutionaries. When a search of her house uncovered a flag emblazoned with the slogan “Equality, Freedom and Law,” Mariana was arrested and charged with conspiracy. After a failed escape attempt, she was publicly executed by the garrotte on 26 May 1831.

The playwright Federico García Lorca based his play Mariana Pineda on her story, and she became a popular figure in the resistance to Franco’s regime.

From this “place of dreams” that could “put the seed of music in [your] soul” we returned through the countryside of Andalucía, beneath the slopes of the Sierra Nevada to the Torremolinos and the beaches of the Costa del Sol.

The countryside in Andalucía on the return journey from Granada and the Alhambra to Torremolinos (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2014)