When I recently visited Bahrain, the TSA agent reviewing my passport looked at me curiously and asked me, "Why did you visit Bahrain?" Simple answer: The Kingdom of Bahrain is a great extension to a Dubai or an Abu Dhabi trip. The flights are inexpensive and under an hour.
In the eager pool of morning light there rises The Rock. It is perhaps the most iconic symbol of the implacable indifferences of inhospitable landscapes, its dimensions timeless, unsummarized. And I want to climb it.
When you travel, it is important to time and adapt your itinerary to light and place, emphasizing more on the right kind of photography in a specific place at the right time of day than on simply layering photography as a pastime over a standard tour.
North America has beavers. Europe and Asia have beavers. Britain should have them too, but we killed the last one a few centuries ago. But now they have turned up on a river in southern England. No one knows how they got there, but the official reaction is that they must be captured.
When I booked my trip to Morocco, I had only a few notions in mind: good surf, good food and a drastic cultural change from my humdrum winter in England. It was a bonus that what I came to discover during my 12-day trip was far more than what I expected.
Names of cities are not just collections of letters. When you read "Rome" or hear "Hanoi" you get a firecracker flash. A row of mental lightbulbs pops on, you see a private marquee picture of the place, and then, when you think of something else, it's gone.