Last week my friend offered me a ticket to Die Walkure at the Met. While I'm not a fan of the new production, I am a fan of the music and I took the offer. She had never before been to the opera, and she had invited me to be her guide. I told her that I wouldn't necessarily start with a Wagner opera, but the tickets had presented themselves to her and her husband had enjoyed the first two operas of the Ring cycle; she thought she would give it a try. At the very least, I told her, Die Walkure had at least one recognizeable hit tune.

In Venice, I had hoped to catch an opera at the Teatro la Fenice, but none were scheduled on the dates I was there. Instead, I had to content myself with The Barber of Seville at the nearby Teatro Malibran. While opera buffa isn't generally my opera genre of choice, the production was fun and engaging even if I couldn't make out all the intricacies of the plot (the opera was sung in Italian with Italian super titles; during the interval I raced outside to find free wifi so that I could download a synopsis).

Before the opera began, the theater rose as the orchestra played the national anthem; the audience sang to great effect. I remembered the first time I had encountered this.

It was my first solo trip oversesas. I had travelled to Taiwan to participate in the Overseas Compatriot Youth Formosa Study Tour (commonly referred to as "Love Boat") and my cousin had offered to take me to a movie during one of our weekends off. She asked me what I wanted to see and I told her a Chinese movie. She looked disappointed; she had hoped to catch the latest Hollywood blockbuster.

She looked through the paper and we ended up seeing He's a Woman, She's a Man, a romantic comedy starring Leslie Cheung. As the lights went down she bade me stand. I was confused but followed suit as the rest of the audience rose for the national anthem. We then took our seats and the film began.

Prior to arriving in Venice, the only time i had seen gondoliers outside the movies was in Central Park. A lone gondola plies the waters with a lone gondolier, whose name is Andres if the boathouse's website is to be believed.

The first memory I have of seeing a gondola and gondolier was in From Russia, with Love. At the end, James Bond Sean Connery settles in with his leading lady as they drift down the Venetian canals. At least that's how I remember it. I could be wrong.

The movie that first made me long to go to Venice was Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. I remember Harrison Ford walking through a beautiful piazza by the canals, and I wonder now where that is. I haven't seen the movie in a while, and my memory is fuzzy, but it seems like it was an impossible place that they had found, the architecture literally floating out in the bay.

Venice was immediately magical. Stepping off the train, I couldn't believe I had arrived. I stayed on the edge of town, uncertain as to the geography of the place. Now that I know, I would choose another location to stay, and another time to visit. I still long to go in November or December. Maybe next Thanksgiving. It shouldn't be overrun then, should it?

This is an outtake from my Rome to Istanbul series.

Ever since I saw a retrospective of her work at the Guggenheim in New York I have been a fan of Zaha Hadid. One day, I'd love to visit her BMW Central Building. I love how she has the manufacturing line running through the white collar offices, and I love her use of concrete.

When I was in Rome, I was excited to learn that the MAXXI museum had recently opened. It was to be the first Hadid building I was to visit, and it did not disappoint. I loved the interiors and the ways in which her twisted stairways moved through the interior space. The galleries themselves were open and airy and I spent much of the time admiring the building more than the art inside, shooting photos inside and out. I can't wait to visit more of her work.

This is an outtake from a series of photos documenting a trip from Rome to Istanbul.

My first memories of Italy are from Fellini films. I remember watching La Dolce Vita and admiring the look and style of Rome, even as I nodded off now and again. I had seen Roman Holiday, but Fellini's Rome was more visceral than that of William Wyler's, and I finally felt as though I had caught a glimpse of that city. I wanted to follow down the alleys and hang in the piazzas and stay up all night to wake in the center of a traffic circle watching the sun filter through the monuments as it rose.

My first trip to Rome was over ten years ago. I met some friends and spent a few days there before taking an overnight train to Paris. It was a quick trip, and somewhat unplanned. A friend had moved there to teach English and one night we stayed up late in her apartment talking of her new life. She had met a boy that she liked, but she was unsure, and we talked even after putting the light out, our voices traversing the length of her new home.

On this trip, I met the boy, now her husband and their son. We ate at a restaurant near the Spanish Steps that they knew. The sidewalks were empty, a welcome respite from the more touristed areas, and we caught up over a simple shared meal. Afterwards, we lingered over glasses of limoncello. The waiter left the flask on the table, and we served ourselves, pouring out the liquor into our small glasses. Around us, Rome slept.

Happy New Year everyone! I'm finally getting back to posting on this site after a long hiatus. And over the next few days and weeks I'll be posting outtakes of my trip from Rome to Istanbul, starting with this one from Florence.

I chose to undertake this trip after visiting Croatia last year. Towards the end of the trip, I found myself with an extra day I could have spent visiting Montenegro or Bosnia Hercegovina. I chose the former, but remained curious about the latter. As I thought more about it, I became curious about the rest of the former Yugoslavia and its surrounding countries. The Balkan war dominated the news of my youth, and I wanted to visit this region so recently engaged at war with itself.

I also wondered how Christianity would give way to Islam as one travelled east, and so I decided to begin my travels in Rome and end them in Istanbul, the seats of the Holy Roman and Ottoman empires, respectively. What I found was not what I expected, as religious affiliations hop-scotched between the countries, influencing events in subtle and not-so-subtle ways.

When I visited Durban last year, I had yet to have visited Miami; this is the type of hotel architecture I might have assumed would be found there. (I did end up visiting Miami for one night this past February, but that's a story for another time). The hotel rests across the street from the beach, towards the end of the boardwalk. The beach itself is a fine stretch of sand, and while I dipped my toes into the water, I wasn't prepared to swim.

I spent two nights in Durban, the first of which was a question of just getting situated after arriving from Port St. Johns. The less said about the guesthouse in which I stayed, the better; the second night I moved to much better accomodations. I spent the one full day I had walking about the city, through the botanic gardens, past the bus station and markets, en route to the city center and the museums contained therein. In the afternoon I made my way past the Durban soccer stadium to the beach, in time to catch the sunset. The World Cup had ended, and area in front of the stadium had been turned into a staging area as the city prepared to clear out the space.

For dinner, I ate at a delicious Indian restaurant where I met a charming couple who welcomed me to Durban, highlighting its best features. I lamented that I was moving on the next day to Pretoria. They offered to drive me to my guesthouse, but I told them it was just up the hill, a short walk away. They cautioned me to stay safe. We lingered at the front door to take in the night air, a brief respite before we each continued on with our evenings and our lives.

On one of my last days in Cape Town, I wandered northwest of City Bowl to the neighborhood of Bo-Kaap. The area is known for a few blocks of colorfully painted 19th cenutry houses, and a number of mosques sprinkled through the neighborhood. It's a beautiful part of town, with some streets paved in cobblestones.

I never felt unsafe during my time in South Africa, though I was always cautious, given everything I had heard. As I started walking through the area, one of the residents saw me and asked if I were alone. I said I was and he cautioned me against turning to the right. He told me I was fine to walk along the street, but once I reached the end I should turn left and not right. I thanked him and did as he advised (it was the route I had planned given the sights I had wanted to see) but it made me curious what was down the opposite end of the road.

The other time I remember being cautioned was against walking down Adderley Street at night. This was after I had already left Cape Town, and in truth I had for one reason or another ended up walking up Adderley Street most nights en route back to my guesthouse without feeling threatened. In the end, I chalked up the heightened safety to the World Cup. Or the proximity of my guesthouse to its proximity to the houses of Parliament.

For those interested, I've posted a series of photos from South Africa of which this is an outtake.

In 2010, I spent a month in South Africa. I arrived mid-way through the World Cup, and stayed for another two weeks after. It was an amazing time to be in the country, as the excitement of the World Cup gave way to apprehension and then a post-Cup depression as things reverted back to normal. On the day after the Spanish victory, a radio morning show lamented the fact that in one city they were already removing the world flags from the highway leading into the city.

I spent two of my last days in the country at the Madikwe Game Reserve, located on the border with Botswana, a four hour drive from Pretoria. As removed as it sometimes seemed, at night the lights of Gabarone shone on the horizon.

The days and nights I spent there were a highlight of my trip, and I was surprised to be able to see as many animals as we did as close as we did. This photo was from the lodge itself, overlooking a watering hole. One afternoon we watched as the elephants took their time drinking as other animals circled the area, waiting their turn. It was beautiful and fascinating, and I was amazed that it was playing out so close before me.

I've posted a series of photos from South Africa; this is just one of the out-takes. I'll be posting more in the days to come.

Easily one of my favorite cities in Croatia, Rovinj is unfolds as a teardrop spilling into the Adriatic. All roads lead to the Church of S. Eufemia, which watches over the city from its hilltop perch. The cobblestones have all been smoothed by years of foot-traffic, and at night the streets and alleys are given over to the cats which roam its still lanes.

Unfortunately, one of the restaurants I most wanted to sample was closed for the season. It sits just below the church at the end of one of the main streets. I had to make do with some of the other offerings. That said, I had one of the best pizzas I have ever had in a small pizzeria tucked into a bend in the road. The argula was perhaps the freshest I have tasted. And the wine one of the most refreshing.

I could have spent a week just with in the confines of this tiny town, but I had but two weeks to spare for my entire trip. And so I pushed out, out of Istria and on down the coast.

More photos of Croatia can be found here.

Speaking of Montenegro, here's a photo of some of the back streets of Kotor. While visiting Dubrovnik, I took a day trip to Montenegro. I was so close, I just had to step over the border to visit at least a small part of that country. One of the most surprising things about our quick jaunt was the level of Russian investment and involvement in the seaside communitie, highlighted by our guide.

While Kotor is a small city, we weren't allowed enough time to explore it fully. I had wanted to climb the city walls up into the mountains for an overview, but after walking a few hundred meters, I realized that I wouldn't be able to make it back to the bus if I ascended to the ramparts at the crest.

I have plans to return to the Balkans. My taste of Croatia made me curious about the rest of the region. And I want to return to Montenegro to see more of the country at a slightly more leisurely place. We shall see.

Photos of Croatia can be seen on the main site.

I've just posted photos from my trip to Croatia last November, and I've decided to post some outtakes over the next few days as I have time. This is the first, from a day trip I took from Dubrovnik to Montenegro. We arrived at this open area between the mountains to look out over the bay to the Gospa od Škrpjela, an artificial island supporting the Church of Our Lady of the Rocks.

According to legend, the island was created by sailors who vowed to erect a church after an icon of the Madonna and Child was found on a rock in the sea. As the story goes, the icon was brought to shore, but each morning it would disappear, to be found once again in the sea.

We arrived by minivan and paused to take photos from the shore. Unfortunately, a trip to the island itself wasn't in the cards. As we admired the church from the edge of the water, a dog appeared. The dog was particularly enamored with a female member of our group, and she had some difficulty extracting herself from the situation. I shot this photo as we were about to continue on to Kotor.

I've started sorting through my Croatia photos. I'm under the weather this weekend and am trying to use the time home to take care of a lot of things I've let slide. Like email. And editing and posting photos. I still have sets from the Silk Road and South Africa to edit and post. Not to mention the most recent trip to Croatia.

This photo I took early on in my stay on a day trip to Varaždin. The countryside was beautiful, dotted with houses, and with vineyards following the rounded hills. I left Zagreb in the morning to reach Varaždin before noon and connected to a local bus to the castle. The day started cloudy and a light rain fell off and on, but by the afternoon the skies cleared and the castle was perfectly reflected in the pond by which it sits.

Climbing to the top reminded me of another ascent to a castle, Matsuyama-jo (this one in Japan), and of the people I had met along the way. Not so at Trakošćan. I was the lone visitor enjoying the former glory of this 13th century home.

It's not a traditional tea house, per se, but a lovely place for a gathering. It's a tea house off of University Place on the second floor of the establishment. Unfortunately, I forget the name.

Months ago, a friend of mine suggested we meet there with a mutual friend of ours. We hadn't seen each other in quite some time, and I readily agreed. We chatted further on the phone and then made plans. As it happened, I ended up chatting with our mutual friend later in the week before our scheduled appointment and thus managed to catch up with everyone before we met. When we finally found ourselves seated around the table, I had already heard the stories my friends told to each other. It was like watching the movie right after having read the book. Or something.

Speaking of gatherings, it's hard to believe that Christmas is next week. A few weeks ago, it seemed so far away and I was chasing the holiday spirit. Then the spirit found me and Christmas seems almost too soon. Last week it was a series of holiday parties and tree trimmings and cookie bakings. Next week is a little more quiet, but then I'll be travelling to Connecticut to spend the weekend with my parents. My brother and his family are coming by for the first time in a long time, but I'll miss them in Connecticut. We'll be catching up in New York over the New Year's weekend. And then it will be 2011. Crazy.

P.S. I don't know what it is about this photo, but it makes me think of Paris. . . Perhaps a destination next year . . . ?

Last night it snowed, just a dusting. I had seen the flakes swirl as I walked home, but didn't think much of it until this morning when I saw that a thin layer of powder had covered the rooftops.

This past weekend I baked cookies with a friend. She refused to play Christmas music, but a few nights before I had been sated at my friend's tree-trimming party. After looking for the holiday spirit since Thanksgiving, I had managed to find it.

I can't believe that Christmas is next week. Looking back on the year it seems full, and yet it's hard to believe that the time passes as quickly as it does, much as one might want to slow it down (and much as it occasionally seems to be passing interminably slow).

I took this photo while waiting in the lobby of the New York Times building for a friend. I had just returned from Croatia and had made a date with her for lunch. I was early and, as it was raining outside, I ducked into the building to take shelter. Looking back at the pedestrians outside, I dug my camera out of my bag and shot this frame.

I am just returned from a two-and-a-half week trip to Croatia. I decided on the spur of the moment as I had some time between gigs and Croatia seemed like a country in which I could see a reasonable amount in that time. It was a great trip. I was there on the off-season, so the cities and towns were quiet, but I felt that I managed to get a real sense of place without needing to jostle with summer tourists for space. I dropped off my film on Tuesday, so photos should be forthcoming.

Since returning, I'm still wanting to see as much as I can. I've been spending all my free time visiting museums and galleries, heading to the upper east side or Chelsea each Saturday and Sunday. The great thing about visiting other places is the desire to see and experience, and it's fun bringing that back to the city in which you live.

I shot this a while ago while waiting for a friend of mine at the Museum of Natural History. My friend was slightly late or I was early and so I just watched the street. This man was seated on the steps, smoking a cigarette. Pedestrians passed, each minding their own business. I took a moment to take this photograph.