This weekend, we explored the Point Reyes peninsula, about thirty miles northwest of San Francisco — paddling in bioluminescent Tomales Bay, eating oysters in Marshall, and wandering in Point Reyes Station.
If art is trash, then what is street art? I’ve found that the art on the street is charged, all over the world. Not necessarily politically, though often so, but with emotion. Or hope. And despair. And sometimes, the most mundane piece of street art — that bit of color splattered on the corner in an alley — can offer an unexpected moment of light.
Whether on foot, in a kayak, or on a train, we can document our lives easily. More than ever, the moments of our in-betweens are photo-worthy and shareable. From my photo challenge, “On the Move”
Need destination guide copy?
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My favorite kind of “travel writing” — or I suppose writing about place — embarks on an inner journey, and uses a physical location as a diving board into one’s depths, into their mind.
I recently had a long layover in Seoul and took the train into the city to wander for the day. With twelve hours, I did what I love most: explored a new city on my own, wandered down alleyways, hunted for street art, and got lost.
I returned to Hanoi and Halong Bay, both in the north of Vietnam. As you linger in Hanoi, you become one with it — the pulse of the street, the ebb and flow of traffic.
I remember then feeling I had to rise against it, that Hanoi was something to be conquered. Maybe I wasn’t in the right place; maybe it wasn’t the right time. You never really know with cities. They’re like people, and you don’t always hit it off.
Clockwise, starting from top left: Las Vegas Springs Preserve, Nevada; Shoreditch in London, England; Pismo Beach Pier, California; and the Madrid International Airport, Spain.