Some people love travel and adventure from minute one. It has taken me a little longer to get here.
As a kid I got to visit PEI, take long, winding road trips through the Eastern Townships, invariably ending up on some American highway, and spent lazy summers in Vermont, in the dusty attic of our friend’s guesthouse. Those memories smell of wrinkled comic books, old woolen blankets and usually have an Elvis song playing in the background.
As far flung as I got in childhood was a trip to Disneyland…so enjoyed that it cemented the idea of California forever more being the epi-centre of everything cool for me.
But travel? The kind where you learn something other than where the beach is travel? I missed out on that. I vacationed. I didn’t travel. I did not even like airplanes.
Until I was over forty.
Over the last few years, I have been developing a lovely relationship with Kimberly Seldon’s Dabble Magazine. Dabble, marries a love of travel, food and design in a digital magazine, ready to be devoured anywhere you may be. And for the first time in my adult life…I began to travel. By myself.
My first trip abroad ( oh, how lovely that sounds ) with Dabble was a foray across France, from south to north, from sunshine to fog.
While part two of this trip is still underwraps, waiting patiently for the sun, much like the flowers in one infamous garden I luxuriated in, on a small iconic bridge ( hint…hint…), I shared the first part of this experience with Dabble’s tres sympa Victoria, exploring Toulouse, from sunrise to sunset.
From Negril to Oracabessa, we traveled the coast fueled by Red Stripe, roadside BBQ, fantastic Jamaican company and with a healthy dose of luxury ( Goldeneye, I will never forget you ). We also had a good education in the past and future of Jamaica, thanks to our fantastic guides from Paradise Travel and the Jamaica Tourist Board.
And then just a few months ago, I joined Jameson Fink, wine guy and a fine guy, in exploring the neighbourhoods and beaches of San Diego, California. This issue came out in February and allowed me to discover a part of California I had only briefly touched upon previously. Which of course only added fire to my already well fuelled love of all things Californian…
I come back so much richer after every trip, brimming with experiences and photographs. When I edit the images, never knowing which ones will end up published, I always feel sad for the photos left behind. I feel like there are little bits of the story left untold. Little details like how it felt walking through Montmartre, by myself, in the rain, with a baguette and cheese ( no lie, all I ate in Paris ) in my camera bag. How I managed to get lost ( but are you ever really lost in Paris? And even if you were…would that be a bad thing?) but then finally found the view I was hoping for, soaked to the skin but happy. Crazy happy. Like I needed a soundtrack to my moment happy.
Aside from the regular sharing I do for the links to my published images, I am going to start sharing some of my until now unseen favourite places and moments and experiences. Travel is such a personal thing and I hope that some of my photos encourage…nay…propel you to get to traveling yourself. Because on a cold winter day, there really is no better escape than the memories of somewhere else.
Even if it was just a cold rainy afternoon in Montmartre.