Weekly Travel Theme – Motion

(Racing by a show-stopping Santa Barbara sunset on the Amtrak Coast Starlight)

The back-to-back, Monday-Tuesday, one-two photo challenge punch continues with this week’s Travel Theme of “Motion” from Where’s My Backpack. It is a counter-intuitive concept, to capture motion in a snapshot – I thought Ailsa picked the perfect quote to reflect this:

“The aim of every artist is to arrest motion, which is life, by artificial means and hold it fixed so that a hundred years later, when a stranger looks at it, it moves again since it is life.” – William Faulkner

And, with that, here are a few glimpses of motion I have captured both here and abroad.

(Dolphins playing alongside our whale watching trip in San Diego)

(Young rhesus macaques playing with prayer flags – and visitors – at Swayambhunath – The Monkey Temple – in Kathmandu, Nepal)

(Watching the last wave of the evening, and resting after a long day in the sun and sea – Playa Dominica, Costa Rica)

(The Peloton entering Place de Concorde in the final stage of the Tour de France – Paris, France)

(The slow meander of The Nile on a clear night – Cairo, Egypt)

(And, of course, no “Motion” post would be complete in my world without featuring my niece and nephew (both newly) in motion – thrilled with their mobility and clearly on a mission to tackle my camera.)

Weekly Photo Challenge – Nostalgic

The Weekly Photo Challenge theme over at The Daily Post is “Nostalgic” – these books, and their story below, are my take.

One of the few perks of being a child of divorce is the acquisition of additional grandparents. I was extremely lucky in this regard; my step-grandparents lovingly embraced me as one of their own from the very beginning. Following the death of my step-grandfather, my step-grandmother (whom we all called Nani – her spelling) moved to our sleepy coastal California town from her home in Rhode Island. I was thirteen. My brother and I would spend long afternoons at her house watching Rogers and Hammerstein musicals, playing chopsticks on the piano, learning to needlepoint (that was just me) and snatching up warm cookies right out of the oven, or snooping around the kitchen when we could smell her chili bubbling on the stove. Nani’s meals – served on sick days taken off from school, Saturday evenings when our parents were out being adults (every once in a while) and most every holiday – tasted like home. She clipped recipes of interest every month from her Bon Appetit and Gourmet subscriptions and sorted them into the collection of small, well-worn three-ring binders above. Once she tried them, she would rate her success with gold star stickers (one for ‘good’; two stars for ‘great’), and include notes of what to do or not to do, the next time around. Interspersed with those clipped magazine pages are her own recipes – tried and true family classics like her mother’s Danish Twist pastries that we all looked forward to on Christmas Morning, or the melty, gooey marshmallow rolls from her mother-in-law that Thanksgiving was never without. When Nani passed away in 2002, I had already transplanted myself to Boston for graduate school. One of the few things I asked be set aside for me were her ‘cookbooks’. Despite the 11 years it has taken me to return to California, my step-father continued to hold onto these precious collections for when I was ready and, once I settled into my home here, happily passed them along. His only request? Twists on Christmas.

Weekly Travel Theme – Flow

When I saw that Ailsa posted “Flow” as this week’s travel theme at Where’s My Backpack, my stomach sank a bit. As far as I could recall, I has used my favorite photos of rivers and beaches for last week’s “Peaceful” challenge. It took some time for memories of a day spent exploring the Plitvice Lakes National Park in Croatia, to rise to the surface of my mind.

I spent eleven long days training at the Faculty of Medicine in Reijka, Croatia as part of an international workshop in viral immunology; on the twelfth day, our hard work was rewarded when we were treated to a hiking tour of the most stunning lake country I have ever seen. The color of the many linked pools seemed almost  an opaque turquoise from afar, in the sunlight. But once near the shore or on the water itself, I realized it was crystal clear  (filled with fish) and that the hue seen from a distance was a trick of the limestone and chalk basins.

A UNESCO World Heritage Site, Plitvice Lakes are comprised of >16 lakes, separated by natural dams but connected by waterfalls of all sizes. Our small group had the privilege of a guided tour from one end of the valley, winding around (and through!) the lakes and making our way through the surrounding forests to an overlook at the other end.

Each corner of the path brought with it new surprises – towering waterfalls, quiet, still pools, fallen trees reclaimed by the waters, and dark caves leading into the surrounding mountains. Although our group was only a small fraction of the total people in the park that day, the valley was mostly silent, minus the roar of the surrounding falls. There was a visible sense of awe and wonder in each face and very little was said,out of respect for the grandiose, sacred beauty that surrounded us. When we did speak, the words almost always emerged as a whisper.

I learned later that the precipitation and deposition of calcium carbonate via the flow of the falls and rivers moving through the valley resulted in the eventual natural damming of the lakes and establishment of this extremely unique geological formation. The power of flow to both build and erode was abundantly clear throughout our exploration of the park.

Yet, as with last week, I found these waters to also be peaceful – not only the calm aquamarine pools of the upper valley, but also the thundering cascades. Something about that power, pounding (virtually) throughout eternity reminded me how insignificant my current worries were, how little impact the flow of my life has on the bigger picture – that nature has been carving out these hidden jewels long before I entered the world, and will continue long after I leave.  What a wonderful thought.

Weekly Photo Challenge – Curves

This past weekend I joined friends (and Walker, of knit hat fame) to participate in the San Diego Farm Bureau’s Farm Tour Day 2013. We were guided through the grounds and operations of three local agricultural giants, specializing in flowers and succulents, avocados and seasonal, organic produce. I had checked the Weekly Photo Challenge before leaving the house early that morning, and spent the day looking out for images that evoked this week’s theme of “Curves”. I thought this photo of almost-ripe avocados did the trick. The fruit hung heavy on the thin branches, while the leaves provided a dappled shadow to protect them from the intense heat of the direct, summer sunlight. The dark, rough, pebbled curve of their outer shell belied the creamy, rich sweetness of the fragile flesh within. They were dipping low enough that I was tempted to grab and pull – but I resisted the urge and was rewarded with a ripe avocado souvenir at the end of the tour. It was a perfect way to spend a sunny Saturday.

Weekly Travel Theme – Peaceful

(From Amtrak Coast Starlight, looking out at the Pacific Ocean, north of Santa Barbara, CA)

I am most at peace around flowing water. I do have to wonder if this evolved from being brought up in a beachside community or, possibly, being raised by an avid surfer. Either way, I can sit alongside a river or overlooking a beach, and watch the water for hours on end. When things are particularly tense in the rest of my life, watching (meditating along with?) this continuous, repetitive, unaltered ebb and flow allows me to truly exhale and let the stress go.

(The Grand Canal, Venice, Italy)

If I had my way, I would never again live more than 15 miles from the Pacific Ocean – inhaling the salt air deeply and listening to the waves pound endlessly against the shore is rejuvenating  Something about that power, the wind in my hair, and the wild, untamed beauty of the Pacific always sets things right.

(Private beach front, Coco Palm, Maldives)

Yet, after several years living alongside rivers, I have also come to appreciate the quiet solitude that can be found watching life flow by. The river always provides a cool breeze to soothe one’s brow on a hot day and a stopping place alongside to take in the view (or a jog) downstream or to set up an impromptu picnic at dusk.

(Harbor-side dinner at dusk, Honfleur, France)

When Ailsa posed her Weekly Travel Theme of “Peaceful”, bodies of water on (around/in) which I have traveled – in all moods – and found peace came to mind. Here are some of my favorites.

(Overlooking the Côte d’Azur while driving from Nice to Monaco)

(Windmill spotting while on a small canal outside of Amsterdam, Netherlands)

(Sunset at Playa Hermosa, Costa Rica)

(Dusk settles over the Tiber River, Rome, Italy)

(Contemplating freedom while looking across the English Channel – on Omaha Beach, Normandy, France)

 

(Notre Dame Cathedral and Ile de la Cité as seen from a Seine river cruise, Paris, France)

 

(Bixby bridge, driving southbound on California Highway 1 through Big Sur)

Weekly Photo Challenge – Fleeting

Although it has been more than six months since I returned from Paris to San Diego, on lazy Sunday afternoons my mind turns to long, winding, warm Parisian evenings with friends – enjoying aperitifs on terraces and picnics in parks. For much of my time there, my camera was my constant companion – to ensure that I would capturing everything that I could miss from the other side of the world. In an odd twist of fate, so much of my time was spent behind that lens that, often, I don’t have actual memories – only a series of mental snapshots that recall particular occasions. Bastille Day 2011 was one of those. I vividly recall laughing with friends while sprawled on the Champs de Mars, dancing the can-can at sunset and the “superheroes” that joined us. The fireworks, however? Luckily I have the photos, which captured each fleeting, vibrant burst of color as the explosion lit up the Eiffel Tower and the night sky in front of me.

This week’s photo challenge, “Fleeting” was prompted by The Daily Post. 

Weekly Photo Challenge – Pattern

(Kelp Forest)

After my work trip up in the San Francisco Bay Area ended a few weeks ago, The Bat and I decided to make a road trip out of the return. Rather than hop on a commuter flight and zoom back to San Diego, he and his brother journeyed north, picked me up, and we spent the next four days working our way down the state, seeing the sites, friends and family along the way.(Leopard shark – a common sight in several tanks – and aptly named)

Our first stop was Monterey – only a few hours out of SF – and home to one of the best aquariums in the world (not to mention some amazing food and a great Comfort Inn). Photos from the Monterey Bay Aquarium seemed a fitting submission to this Week’s Photo Challenge from The Daily Post.

This week the theme is “Pattern” and nowhere is the effect and functionality of patterns more apparent then when seeing animals in their (semi-) natural habitat. Patterns can act as camouflage, to attract mates or distract predators. Only in the extraordinarily unique environment of an aquarium can we see those patterns that set apart the creatures of the sea.

Eels: There were several species of eel on display, all of which were blatantly patterned – better to hide within the rocky nooks and crannies, I suppose.  

Sea Dragons: There was an extensive seahorse/sea dragon exhibit. The sea dragons in particular captured my attention and imagination. Covered in fins and protrusions that looked more like kelp than animal, they were mesmerizing to watch.

Jellies: My favorite exhibit, without a doubt, was “The Jellies Experience”, which was one of the most complete jelly collections I have seen, all set to some pretty rad disco funk. I could honestly watch jellyfish for hours – moving at different speeds, in haphazard directions. Several species were heavily dotted or striped, I would guess to mimic the reflection of the sun. Seeing all these creatures close up really drives home how nature finds a way to fend for herself, often in beautiful and unpredictable ways. 

French Friday – Bateaux Mouches

Clichés do not become such without reflecting some truth, right? This is certainly the case when it comes to seeing the sights in Paris. It may be exhausting to wait in line and wade through crowds, but can you really say you have ‘done’ Paris if you skip out on the Louvre, Notre Dame or the Eiffel Tower? There are just some places and views that need to be seen for oneself. (Grand Palais and Pont Alexandre III)

I had always taken the “eh, it’s for tourists” attitude when it came to the Seine river cruises. These barges boats, filled with hundreds of tourists, zoom up and down the river day and night, dodging bridges, commercial vessels and lighting up the city with megawatt spotlights after the sun goes down (never stare directly into the light – trust me). Several of the companies even offered multi-course dinner cruises for (what I considered) extortionate prices – not only had I heard that the food was utterly mediocre, but I also couldn’t fathom sitting inside a boat, facing a table full of food when the perfectly lit skyline of Paris zoomed by alongside you. (Pont Alexandre III, from below)

However, as my time in Paris was growing short this summer and I was deciding what things I could not miss before leaving, several friends reassured me that taking one of these rides – either at dusk or after the sun went down – was a must-do. It is such a different perspective, they told me, to see the city from the river – to view it as a bustling port of sorts – and realize how central the Seine is to the identity and function of the city itself. (Houseboats moored on the Seine)

I had my chance when family came to visit in late July. After (too) many hours standing in line for the Eiffel Tower (something else left for those last days), it was wonderful to get on our barge-like motorboat, soak in the last rays of late-afternoon sun and see the city as I never had before. We chose to stay away from any variety of dinner cruise (because of the aforementioned price and distraction) and decided on the Bateaux Mouches based on personal recommendations. We were not disappointed – it truly was a different, even more beautiful city when seen from the Seine. Especially as the sun dipped deeper into the sky and the clouds spread out around us. (Assemblee Nationale)

For a fun Friday frolic, I’m including an armchair tour here. Enjoy! (Musée d’Orsay)

(Louvre spotting)

(Waving from the tip of Ile de la Cité)

(Pont Neuf, from below)

(Notre Dame, from the front…)

(…and from the rear)

(Paris quai-front housing)

(Dancers practicing river-side)

(Hôtel de Ville)

(Late afternoon Paris Plages – the summertime ‘beach’ next to the Seine)

(We are not alone – a passing Bateaux Mouches in front of Pont des Arts)

(Sun setting as Les Invalides peeks over the railing)

(And, of course, we end with the monument to rule them all – the Eiffel Tower)

Weekly Travel Theme – Dance

Besides dancing it out in my own living room after an exceptionally good day, there is not much dance in my everyday life. So, when Ailsa challenged her readers with this week’s travel theme of “Dance”, I was genuinely stuck for a moment. My first reaction was to lament that I’d not reviewed the theme over the weekend, so I could have gone out and found dancers (taking new photos based on these weekly themes, rather than digging through the archives is the next step in this process of bettering my photography). My second impulse was to wish my nieces and nephews were just a bit older, because there is nothing more fun than crazy toddler dancing. Then I started digging – turns out the archives are not as dry as once thought… Let’s Dance:

My time in Nepal was full of dancing – from this father-daughter dance at the reception of the wedding I was attending (isn’t the bride’s sari amazing?!), to these children dancing in the streets to the sounds of another wedding party walking to the bride’s home in the traditional ceremony of Janti.

Weddings are great venues to catch dancing, in general. These are photos of the first dance from two friends’ weddings I attended recently – the first in Dade City, Florida; the other in Washington, D.C (look at her shoes! I’m still in awe).

There is nothing more French than doing the Can-Can under the Eiffel Tower on Bastille Day – right? 

And no one, given the chance, would turn down the opportunity to dance with Dropkick Murphys on stage at L’Olympia in Paris…

Lastly, there’s this guy. Dancing solo while a clarinet busker tries to make the most of his day in the Montmartre neighborhood of Paris. He doesn’t appear to care about anyone else (especially the stranger with a camera) – he just needs to dance. 

Weekly Photo Challenge: From Above

This week’s Photo Challenge from The Daily Post is “From Above”.  The moderators suggest taking photos looking straight down to as a way to change  perspective for common sights, objects or situations.  Rather than look at something familiar from a different angle, in considering my entry I recalled an occasion in which I had to get above in order to actually see the view in its entirety. In May 2011 (almost exactly 2 years ago), I had the great fortune to travel to Kathmandu for a friend’s wedding. The week that I spent there is truly beyond description, but on one of the few mornings without a scheduled event, our small group of American friends took the opportunity to get above the city and into the mountains.Our evental goal was Mount Everest, but along the way we would be taken past 14 of the highest peaks of the Nepalese Himilayas. Here are just a few of the photos I took that day, glued against my tiny, fogged up porthole in the 19-seat Buddha Air flight.One of the most stunning vistas were those seen when the clouds parted just enough to see the mountains rise all the way from the surface. Usually a river or lush valley ran between green, rugged peaks that rose, continuously, through the sparse clouds and emerged in the blue sky, jagged and snow-capped. One by one, we were all invited to unbuckle our seat belts and join the pilots in the cockpit of our small plane. The view afforded through their windshield was stunning, clear and almost panoramic in scope. My timing was impeccable. As I stepped in between the two pilots, craning my neck forward, Everest came into clear view (that’s it there, the tallest peak on the left). At first, I was somewhat surprised – it didn’t seem so impressive, surrounded by its mountainous brothers and sisters. We flew closer, could see vague outlines at base camp and then it struck me, how far above the Earth and how far away from my everyday reality we were. I felt so small, but my mind and perceptions were open incredibly wide. The whole world was laid out below me, the view was heart-achingly beautiful and none of this could have ever been seen any other way than flying above.