On occasion, I write about travel related products that I use, but there’s another whole side of my life that I rarely talk about – the equipment needed to publish this blog. As most of my readers will know, photography is a big part of what I do, and the possibility of losing photos from a trip causes me to lose sleep. At the end of each day, I transfer my photos from the camera’s SD card to my laptop, but that’s only a temporary fix. The storage capacity of my laptop is much too small to hold all my work, so I always travel with an external hard drive, where I keep a backup copy of the more than 100,000+ photos I’ve taken.
Recently, I was contacted by a representative from WD, who offered me the opportunity to test their new WD My Passport Wireless drive. I’ve been using My Passport drives for a number of years and they have always performed perfectly, however this new wireless drive has an SD card slot, so I would be able to eliminate backing up to the laptop entirely. And with its wireless capacity, I would also be able to upload photos from my iPhone to the drive on the fly. I eagerly accepted their offer to try it out. Read More
During my Viking River Waterway of the Tsars cruise down the Volga-Baltic Waterway between Moscow and St. Petersburg, I captured these panoramic photos of Russia, showing four of the most iconic views in the country. They are not my usual quality, since I shot them with my iPhone, but they do capture a great view of the sweeping public spaces that seemed so prevalent in Russia’s two most important cities. Click on each of the thumbnails to see a larger view:
On any other day, I would have passed by the spartan, crumbling building without a glance. On this day, however, Viking River Cruises had invited me to visit a Kommunalka, a communal living arrangement that is still practiced by a large percentage of residents in St. Petersburg, Russia.
Across the interior courtyard, a heavy metal door opened onto a gloomy corridor where we groped our way up granite steps chipped and worn from decades of use. At the top, a long, mustard-colored hallway was crammed with makeshift storage cupboards, footlockers, and discarded furniture. We walked single file to the end, which opened onto an L-shaped kitchen and two bathrooms that are shared by residents of the eight apartments on the second floor. Read More
“You’re going to Saint Petersburg? It’s such a beautiful city.”
Everyone I knew who had visited Russia’s second largest city shared this sentiment, and after a few days of wandering the manicured avenues and placid canals, I agreed. Seeking a port and access to European trade, Tsar Peter the Great founded the city in 1703 on a low-lying piece of land at the confluence of the River Neva and the Gulf of Finland. Drawing on city-building techniques he learned during travels in the Netherlands and England, he drained the swamplands by digging a series of concentric canals and raising the elevation of the land on what would eventually become the historic enter of the city. Today, the 18th and 19th century Baroque and neoclassical buildings that line the banks of the canals have earned the city both the nickname “Venice of the North” and designation as a UNESCO World Heritage Site.
Freezing rain splashed off the massive stone walls of Belozersky Monastery, pelted my face, and trickled down my neck. I pulled my hood closer and surveyed the leaden surroundings. On my left, the monastery loomed dense and gray, threatening to tip the earth. Ahead of me lay a gray corpse of a lake. The only relief from the monotonous landscape was a stand of birch trees to my right, rising white and stately from a luxurious patch of grass.
“Beautiful, are they not?” remarked my tour guide. “Every spring and summer, we tap the trees for their sap, which is used to make a drink that has curative properties. Some of the sap is even frozen, so we have a supply throughout the winter.”
I had seen dense stands of white Birch trees earlier on my voyage down the Volga-Baltic waterway between Moscow and St. Petersburg. At one point I braved teeth-chattering temperatures to capture photos of flame tipped birches in the setting autumn sun. But as I would discover, to Russians, birches are more than just a pretty picture. Read More
I have come full circle. At the tender age of 17, I fled from my parents house, determined to make my way in the world according to my own rules. Now, 45 years later, I am back home again.
Eight years ago I took a tremendous leap of faith and left my corporate life behind to travel the world and recreate myself as a writer and photographer. I was successful for many reasons. I believe I can do whatever I set out to do, I am fearless, and I have a high tolerance for risk. But undoubtedly what has served me best is the concept of impermanence.
I realize that no two seconds are the same. No two experiences are the same. The molecule that touches my skin one second is a different size, shape, and chemical makeup from the next molecule. Sunshine falling across my face changes according to time and weather. I can never step into the same stream twice, as the volume, currents, and eddies of water change from moment to moment. Indeed, change is the only permanent thing in the universe.
And so, I was prepared for the change when it came. Long ago, I promised my father that I would come back home should he ever need me. That time is now. At 88, his health is declining. With the exception of a few brief trips, I have been living with him in the Chicagoland area for most of this year. Read More