Photographs from two days in Macau.
Images from the past several days on Hong Kong Island, from Sheung Wan to Victoria Peak.
I was drawn to Valletta’s most accessible bits: sloping streets, bright doors, old letterboxes, and red pillar boxes.
When I travel, I confront my past selves: the curious and idealistic, the wistful and unhappy versions of me.
The street colors of Vittoriosa, an old fortified city in Malta.
Some snapshots from the old town of Valletta, Malta.
I love this part of Northern California, from the Mendocino coast to Anderson Valley: a more remote, untamed version of Sonoma County. We’re now considering the area for our future tiny house location.
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.
Need destination guide copy?
In her essay about life on tour with a rock band, Claire L. Evans says that travel teaches her more about time than it does about place. I agree. 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. On a recent plane ride, I read a lovely piece called “Seeds” by Thao Thai about her grandfather and his garden, growing up, and Vietnam. The post isn’t about “travel,” and yet the journey the writer takes me on is…