Author: gracefully1global

Museums and Traveling and What You Could be Missing.

I’ve finally realized that I am addicted to traveling.  Perhaps because I embrace the opportunity to be a fleeting resident in a new place where I am willingly sucked into someone else’s world.  A world where – for the time being – there is no laundry waiting, no dishes to be done, and no bills to be paid.


I want to pretend that this new and exotic world is mine, if only for a few days.  I want it all, actually, because somehow I also want to figure out how to transform my visit from something fleeting and touristy into a long-term, measurable connection.  But how?  Because honestly, as much as we strive to know about these places we visit, how much do we really know?


I find myself wandering tiny streets,  optimistically searching for that café or restaurant where only the locals go so I can somehow meet them and understand their spirit.  And let’s face it – this is not an easy task.  These places are not on google maps.  Or on tripadvisor.


So after many fruitless attempts at this technique, I have gladly settled for the next best thing.  Which is actually not settling at all really.  It has become my favorite activity in every city I go.


The places I go to instead of the elusive “locals only” spots are on google maps.  And they are probably in your travel books too.  I guess it sounds too good to be true.  And maybe it is, because maybe you aren’t going to like my answer.  The place that I go in every new city I visit in order to understand and connect with the city, is the local art museum.


Yes, I get it.  At face value museums can seem uptight, cold, and uninteresting.  Boring perhaps is the best word.  But I beg to differ.  Far from being a victim of bad lighting and boring docent lectures, my museum visits over the last year have often been the highlight of my travels.  Favorites range from Baltimore’s provoking American Visionary Art Museum, to Winslow Homer’s rugged New England beach landscapes at the Portland Museum of Art in Maine, to the overwhelming Monet exhibit at the Musee d’Orsay in Paris, and the passionate permanent collection at the El Museo del Barrio in East Harlem.

Sunset in front of the American Visionary Art Museum


What is most fascinating about these museums, and what subsequently prompted me to write this blog post, is each of them are about as different as you and me.  Why?  Because within their walls rest objects created by people.  These objects each have an individual story to be told.  But the true fascination comes from seeing them grouped together in permanent or temporary exhibits, as the collective story they tell reflects the personality of the city and the individuals that make up the city you are visiting.  Seriously.


On my current tour of the US, I’ve spent my evenings hanging out with friends and loved ones, and my days wandering the halls of my favorite art museums.  I know, I can’t complain.  My trip thus far has included New York, Washington DC, and Chicago.  I return to the museums here over and over again.  They are amazing. But each one is very different, and their differences are related to the cities they call home.  Understanding their differences is about getting to know what makes each of these cities tick.  Here’s why I love each of them.


The Art Institute of Chicago, Chicago
The American Spirit

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Not an inspiring picture, but an inspiring quote.


Chicago is one of my favorite cities in the world, and its museums haven’t let me down.  It is a city that embodies the resilience and graciousness of the American spirit like no other city in America, and these qualities are skillfully mirrored in the permanent collection of the Art Institute of Chicago through combinations of masterpieces like Grant Wood’s American Gothic, Edward Hopper’s Nighthawks, and Mary Cassatt’s The Child’s Bath, among many others.  

All of this amazingness on the backdrop of a beautiful building steps away from fabulous Millennium Park.  It is really no wonder why this museum is one of my favorite museums in the world.


Subsequently, it was quite àpropos that in this museum, wandering the endless maze of Roy Lichtenstein‘s work last Thursday, I had one of those light bulb moments where I finally came to understand a museum’s unique ability to poignantly capture the essence of the city it calls home.  Seeing the Lichtenstein exhibit taught me the importance of comics and comic art in the cultural heritage of Chicago in a way that I never would have understood otherwise.  Hurry up because the exhibit closes soon.


Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York City
Diversity and Humanity

Metropolitan Museum of Art
My favorite museum steps – the Metropolitan Museum of Art


When I realized that Harry and Sally spent an afternoon here in a scene of one of my favorite movies of all time, When Harry Met Sally, it confirmed that I was not alone in my love for this place.   But how could I ever think I would be?  Like the Art Institute of Chicago, a trip to the Metropolitan Museum of Art is an experience both in and out of the building.  There is nothing like approaching the Metropolitan Museum of Art and witnessing hundreds of people treating the steps of this magnificent building like their own front porch.  Sitting outside in the sun, dancing and painting on the sidewalk, entering and exiting the museum in a flurry of positive activity.  People of all shapes and sizes happily co-habiting and epitomizing the je ne sais quoi of New York, where constant wonder shocks you in the realization of the diversity of humanity.  All this on the backdrop of the sheer awe of the scale of the museum building and its collection representing in perfect form the grandeur of New York City.  The museum’s permanent collection of art and artifacts is just as diverse and grand as the outside.  So much so, there is little my words can do to convey the experience.  There is truly something for everybody here – from fashion to Egyptian architecture.  Just like New York City, you can literally find the world in this museum.  You just have to go.


The National Portrait Gallery and the American Art Museum, Washington DC
Stately and democratic

The Portrait Gallery
A cold but lively night in Chinatown in front of the Portrait Gallery


I have never met more new people in one day on vacation than during a day spent at the National Portrait Gallery.  No matter how much I love a museum, no appreciation I have can ever compare to what I feel for this place.  This is, hands down, my favorite museum.


Believe me, the first time I visited this place I was just as surprised by my reaction as you might be.  But the reason is very clear – while the connotation of the word “portrait” might call up ancient images of boring rich people who you have no interest in, this place proves that everything you expected to feel about a portrait is unfounded.  This is a museum whose purpose is understanding people through art.  A docent here once told me that the museum is half art and half history, as understanding each portrait is to enjoy the artistic quality as well as absorb the story behind each of people in the paintings and to understand our own history more succinctly.  Mirroring the role of the city it calls home, this museum truly represents not just the nation’s capital but the United States as a whole.  In a true exercise of cultural democracy, the Portrait Gallery proudly displays portraits from the most stately politicians to your next door neighbor. Here and only here is it possibly for a person like me to meet everyone from George Washington to George Bush to the founder of the Girl Scouts, and finish my visit by strolling through 180 portraits of residents from the Iowa hometown of portrait artist Rose Frantzen.


And it gets better.  The National Portrait Gallery shares space with the American Art Museum.  As you wander the halls of the Portrait Gallery you will find yourself mistakenly wandering into a hallway belonging to the American Art Museum.  Wait, did I say mistake?  I wish I made mistakes like this more often.  After seeing Norman Rockwell at his finest two years ago, I began wondering if I needed to reserve two spots on my number one favorite museums list.  Last week my delight with this museum surpassed everything I’ve ever seen here, with the best collection of photography I have enjoyed in years as part of the African American Art: Harlem Renaissance, Civil Rights Era, and Beyond exhibit.  My suspicions are officially confirmed, and I now have two number one faves.


But my favorite afternoons in Washington, DC are actually spent both inside and outside the museum on its dramatic steps in the center of Chinatown.   Coincidentally – or maybe not so coincidentally – this museum joins the ranks of the Art Institute of Chicago and the Metropolitan Museum of Art with its urban proximity to the spirit of the city.


Gee, what more could I ask for?  Hope you too can find your favorite places in the next city you visit. 

Illustrious Instants: A summer storm in New York

Today I experienced that moment – that unmistakable moment – when my sunny carefree Sunday suddenly got kicked up a notch.  The sky overloaded with giant, moving grey clouds, the wind began to kick my hair around, and that hot, sticky world that normally consumes me the second I leave home or work suddenly went away and what came instead was a chill and an unmistakable sense of foreboding.


But somehow, I didn’t mind.  Just like all the other people at the Boat House restaurant in Ossining, NY, didn’t mind.  Why not?  What is so magical about a summer storm?  The unexpectedness of the experience?  The visual drama?  The weather?

We could barely see through the raindrops on the window to the storm just on the other side.


In my former corner of the world in the south of California, summer storms are nearly non-existent.  So my fond memories of these experiences all come from my summers spent in New York City.  To me, summer rain IS New
York City.  The drama, the smell, and the temporary urgency fleetingly catapult me back in time fifteen years to walking to acting class on the lower west side of Manhattan in July and racing for cover under the nearest overhang, only to discover four construction workers doing the exact same thing who subsequently became my new best friends.


A study in contrasts, a summer storm is all at once overbearingly dramatic, yet not in the slightest bit threatening.  The torrential wind and downpour is dramatic but warm, and somehow, not dangerous.  There is a universal understanding that this storm will be over soon, and life will go on as before.  In fact, life will even be a little more bearable with that slight breeze in the air, a cleaner city, and humidity washed away with the storm.

My aunt, Suzanne DeChillo, snapped this photo of me taking pictures just after the storm.


Today I experienced the magic of the summer storm from a perfect vantage point – front row seats at the picture window facing the Croton Bay at the Boat House restaurant in Ossining, NY.  Guests sitting just outside the window on the patio ran inside for cover in a fit of temporary hysteria – hair flying, makeup running, food drenched.
But my family and I sat inside, dry and entertained, and relished the beauty of the moment.  These moments that I cherish, that I rarely experienced in my life in the west.

The ocean is deceptively calm.


These photos are of the end and the aftermath of the storm.  And what a reward it was to discover the bay like this.  Just a short train ride from Grand Central Station, this place instead feels worlds apart from the bustle of the city.  The perfect place to relish a summer storm.

Illustrious Instants: Taking the Back Road

You know those instants when the beauty of a moment transcends your eyeballs and you are actually viscerally affected by the amazingess?


On this marvelous summer day, driving the Lincoln Highway in Pennsylvania about an hour and a half outside of Pittsburgh, I experienced one of those moments.  And I was so overtaken by the perfection of the world at this moment in time, that I pulled off the road and took a picture.


I only wanted to record the feeling that I was experiencing, somehow, and I was only shooting with my iPhone 3, so I wasn’t expecting anything special from the photos.  I was just optimistically striving to create a visual reminder to help me pull out this memory sometime in the future.


But, I guess the amazingness of the moment not only transcended my eyeballs, but it also transcended my iPhone.  By some miracle, this little butterfly entered my frame at the exact moment the shutter snapped.


I am so grateful that this instant was made immortal by this photo that lingers on in my life.  I love it dearly.  It now proudly represents my many trips up and down the Lincoln Highway, which to this day remains one of my favorite travel memories.


And a lesson learned – who needs the Turnpike?  Slow down and take the back way.  There’s probably a butterfly or two waiting for you…

Jackson Hole: A well-known wonder of the western United States

The love my friend Andrew has for Jackson Hole, Wyoming, is so evident in his photography and in his stories of his adventures there.  He has spent much time throughout his life in Jackson Hole, as his family has a tradition of meeting there during the summer.  I asked him to share some of his photos and some history about Jackson Hole.  I hope you enjoy them as much as I do.
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In the northwest corner of the state of Wyoming (not China), Jackson Hole is a valley nestled in between the Teton Mountain range to the west, Yellowstone National Park to the north, Teton National Forest and the Gros Ventres Wilderness to the East, and the Bridger National Forest to the south. Surrounded by wilderness, humans did not occupy the valley year-round until the 1870’s.
A seemingly remote destination, any way you decide to set forth into Jackson Hole is an experience in itself, largely due to the amazing views and the sense of truly getting into the wild. However, when you touch down at the airport, pull into the cities of Jackson (the only incorporated town in the valley) or Teton Village (the town surrounding Jackson Hole Mountain Resort known for its steep terrain and North America’s Ski Area with the highest vertical drop), you realize there are parts of the valley that are well trodden. In the midst of the summer tourist season it is difficult to find the hidden treasures and get away from the crowds; most treasures were uncovered and marketed to the worldly tourist years ago.
The valley is popular for good reason. The splendor of the indigenous wildlife and the natural scenery is unparalleled, and even led to a conflict over the killing of elk and the use of their teeth for jewelery.  This practice was outlawed  by the state of Wyoming in the early 1890’s for fear of the Elk becoming extinct in the valley, which led to a conflict known as the Bannock war of 1895.  Unfortunately, conflicts in the region of Wyoming were not limited to the Bannock War.  The region has been a battle ground on many occasions due to the conflicting interests of ranchers, hunters and conservationists over the years.
A visit to Jackson Hole without seeing moose, deer, bison and elk is unlikely especially if you time your trip during the late summer and early fall. Bison seem ubiquitous at times; my grandmother even nicked one with her car one summer. The bison was fine. The Toyota needed a new bumper.
In addition to the splendor and largely due to the growing popularity of the area as a tourist destination, the roster of activities is large and growing. One can hike, bike, climb, fish, boat (canoe, sail, kayak, whitewater raft), paddle board, para-glide, camp, and I’ve been told the shopping is quite good if you are so inclined.
A gallery preview of Andrew’s pics of Jackson Hole:

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Jackson Hole, WY, a set on Flickr.

Crossing America – The First Time

There is nothing like a cross-country road-trip to capture the spirit of being an American. While cliché, there is truth to what they say – the freedom of nothing but you, your car, an open road, and infinite possibilities ahead of you somehow defines us as Americans in a way. Our life, our freedom, and a million ways to go. What do we choose?

In this case, I chose to drive from San Diego, CA to Pittsburgh, PA. The road-trip was a cathartic experience, as I left my life in San Diego – family, friends, loved ones – in order to make the transition to Pittsburgh for a graduate program at Carnegie Mellon. With each new day on the road, I slowly but surely lifted out of the funk that had overtaken my life, working in administration in San Diego for years before I made the big decision to plunge into graduate school on the other side of the United States.  The challenge of the logistics on the road and the surprises that seemed to come with every turn were exactly what I needed.  My dad always gently reminded me that change and new environments bring new ideas. Now I finally see what he’s talking about. I guess if you agree that we are all in a constant state of evolution, this trip definitely sped up my process just a tad.

I hope you’ll have a chance to do one of your own, soon…

To help out your planning process, here’s an interactive map of our route complete with photos mapped along the way, as well as a google map with our exact destinations plotted.

ITINERARY
I revolved many of our stops around friends and major landmarks

Day 1: Las Vegas, NV
Day 2: Zion National Park, UT
Day 3: Best Friends Animal SanctuaryKanab, UT
Day 4: Denver and Boulder, CO
Day 5: Rocky National Park – Estes Park, CO
Day 6: Mount Rushmore – Keystone, SD
Day 7: Iowa City, IA
Day 8: Chicago, IL
Day 9: Chicago, IL
Day 10: Pittsburgh, PA

Favorite Day of the Trip: Our day in Denver and Boulder, CO. Both cities were beautiful and dynamic, full of great things to see and explore, great food, great beer, and a nice vibe. I want to go back.

Most Random Experience: On the way out of South Dakota we ran into the Sturgis Festival. I don’t think I will ever see so many motorcycles in one place again.

Favorite State: Utah. Unbelievably beautiful.

Best Meal: Chicago deep dish pizza with my great friend Tracy, of course.

Biggest Surprise: Iowa! Iowa was a really dynamic state, full of universities and cool people. My friends live in Iowa City where we visited them. The city architecture was interesting, the food was great, and we loved our stroll around town with them.

This photo gallery of my fave pics from the trip can be plotted on an interactive map of our route by clicking here.

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Maui, Hawaii

There is really nothing I feel I can say to do justice to a place like Maui.  Being here is like visiting another world that you have always hoped existed.

Somehow, the moment I stepped off the airplane in Maui, an overwhelming feeling of relaxation overcame me.  I don’t know if it is the climate or the beauty or the energy of the area, but this feeling is unmistakable.  That being said, there are many different experiences that can be had on this island, despite it’s small size.  When I visited, I frequented less touristy areas thanks to some friends I was visiting that worked on the island, and this made a huge difference in my experience.  They took me to beaches that had no more than ten people in sight.  This was a huge shock, as being from southern California, I am used to beaches stuffed with people.  We were everywhere on the island, from the endless beaches as far as you can see, to the mountains in the center of the island.  Literally everywhere you turn you find incredible beauty.

That being said, this vacation has it’s limitations.  As a city girl, as much as I love Maui, a two week vacation is a perfect amount of time for me to be in this fairly isolated environment.  Things are pretty expensive here, as most goods have to be shipped to the island.  And this is not a vacation for a foodie.

But, whoever said anyplace is perfect?  Truly, everyone sometime in their lifetime must experience a day on a Maui beach, more beautiful than words can express, and nearly deserted.  My hike with friends here in the bamboo forest remains one of the most memorable travel experiences of my lifetime.
So, in summary, go to Maui.  As soon as possible.

A gallery of my favorite Maui photographs:

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Best of Maui, a set on Flickr.

A day at the sea: Rimini, Italy

Day 20 in a row of temperatures over 80 degrees and no air-conditioner finally got the best of me, so I did what any good Italian would do – I went to the sea.  We truly intended to take it easy and spend a quiet afternoon on the beach and return to Bologna by 7pm.  By now I should have learned that fun, no matter what, takes over as the highest priority in Italy.  So, as you will see through my photo diary, our best laid plans completely went awry, and the day was by no means a simple afternoon in the sun.


A quick train ride from Bologna offers many potential destinations by the sea, but on this adventure, we chose one of the most popular destinations reachable by train.  Rimini is medium-sized city on the north-east coast of Italy in the Emilia-Romagna region.  It has a beautiful city center, as well as a robust coastline full of restaurants, shops, and most importantly, beach.  Nearby Riccione is a famous destination for nightlife, and Ravenna, which I talked about in another post, is also nearby.


Despite plentiful options for fun and sightseeing around Rimini, on this day we intended only to engage in some relaxing on the beach.


After some laying out in the (really) hot sun and getting a bit of color, our hunger pains got the best of us and we headed toward the main drag to find some food.  Of course we encountered a detour.  Here, my friends are playing a little competitive game of bocce (otherwise known as bocci ball).


And then, some jumping.  I had no idea my friend was so athletic.  I don’t think he did either. 


Lunch at the local Irish Pub, Rose & Crown, which is an institution in Rimini.  Believe it or not, eating italian food every day does begin to get boring after a while.


As you can see, some of us ate more than others…


While we were waiting for my friend to finish his three-course meal, we noticed the managers of the pub were busy blowing up balloons.  And lots of them.  We wondered why.  They explained that La Notte Rosa happened to be that night, which I have now learned is one of the biggest entertainment nights in the Emilia-Romagna region during the summer.



The managers gave me a balloon and also an idea.  Why not go back to Bologna on a later train so we can enjoy La Notte Rosa?  After all, it only comes along once per year.


While we were digesting this idea, we left the pub to go back to the beach for a bit more sun.  On the way we witnessed the result of the manager’s balloon handiwork.  Balloons flying high over Rimini.


We went back to the beach for some sun.  Apparently we were not destined to get much sun.  The cloud formations became foreboding and dramatic.


And boy did the storm come.  We ran for cover at the nearest bar with more than a thatched roof for cover.  I was drenched.    The storm seemed more akin to a hurricane.  But I must confess, I loved every moment of it, as being a girl from Southern California, I am not accustomed to dramatic weather.  Somehow, it felt like summer, reminding me of running through the rain in New York during summers spend there in my childhood.


Lucky for my friends, I had my favorite travel accessory with me – my iPad – equipped with Fruit Ninja to help them pass the time while we waited for the storm to pass.


But I was much more interested in making friends.  While they were busy with my iPad, I kept myself occupied by meeting everyone who was also taking refuge at the cafe where we hung out during the storm.  Here I am – the drenched version – with my new friends.


When the storm finally cleared, the whole town immediately came alive for La Notte Rosa.  Even the streetlights were partaking in the fun with their pink light.


We loved the street artist that was creating complex images with spray paint on the ground for us all to watch, using bits of newspaper to create texture on a cityscape of New York.


Finally, it was time to get down to business.  Where’s the party?   My friend wanted to find an old co-worker from Bologna, who was now living in Rimini selling trinkets on the street.  He didn’t have his new phone number, so we began asking every street vendor that we met.  Believe me, there are a lot of street vendors.  I will spare you from all the photos.Of course, we finally found him.  It was a happy reunion.  And he gave us some tips for the rest of the night.


Most importantly, he equipped us with pink hats so we could join in the festivities of the La Notte Rosa crowd.  But of course, our hats didn’t compare to these.  I was jealous.


And then, the fireworks came.  And a few hours later, the end of a night.  We lost one of our friends after he disappeared and fell asleep on the beach, but we made it on the late (early?) train with several hundred other people.  The train arrived in Bologna in time for us to see the sunrise.


I never knew a day at the sea could be so successful.  Thanks Rimini…

Ravenna, Italy

Ravenna is a small, unassuming city in the northeast Emilia-Romagna region of Italy, and is a virtual treasure trove of visual delights. Famous for its mosaics and churches, a day in Ravenna is relaxing adventure back in time, with a fabulous Italian dinner waiting for you to top it off.

Portici in Ravenna, Italy
Portici in Ravenna, Italy

A simple train ride from Bologna, I spent a day here last fall. My roommate Seve comes from a small city near Ravenna, and I was always curious about the city. I was not disappointed. The city is beautiful, easy to navigate, affordable, and who can beat 6th century mosaics?

More mosaics in Ravenna, Italy
More mosaics in Ravenna

For more info, check out Wiki and Wikitravel.
Here are a few of my favorite pics…
Gallery:

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Best of Ravenna, a set on Flickr.

Sun in Santos

Monique is a great friend of mine from San Diego, and also one of the most adventurous people I know.  Every time I talk with her she is on another adventure, whether it be giving up everything she has and moving to Canada, breaking into the theatre scene in Portland, Oregon, or giving screenwriting a try.  When I asked her what her favorite travel memory was for her contribution to our traveler page, this is the memory that she included.  She was so specific with everything she loved about Santos, that I asked her to write a post about it.  Thanks Monique!


This is a story about one of my favorite trips to Santos, Brazil.  Several years ago I played capoeira and my teacher took a few of us to his home town in Santos. We stayed at a cute little hotel run by one of his friends. We got breakfast every morning complete with fresh fruit and juices. It was right around the corner from an arboretom, Orquidário de Santos and a short walk to the beach.


We went to the beach nearly ever day. I’d always have to stop for fresh squeezed sugar cane juice from a vendor parked next to the beach bike path. We felt spoiled laying out in the sun, with vendors getting us anything we needed: food, drinks (alcohol included), umbrellas, and chairs. One of my teacher’s friends was a pro surfer that started the first surf school in Santos. People would donate old equipment so kids could have something to learn on. He also made surf boards at the school. We had a couple of lessons and I learned how to surf for the first time!

The main purpose of the trip was to visit his teacher’s studio as well as a couple of other studios, but we hardly spent any time playing. Instead we were at the beach, shopping, sightseeing and just enjoying the people. My teacher is well-known in his city and we couldn’t go anywhere without someone calling out to say hi to him. That also meant we met a lot of fun people who took care of us and showed us around. I started getting recognized and people would wave hello to me. I was becoming a local.


One Saturday night we went to an amazing fish dinner. We crossed the water in little ferry boats to favelas on an island.  It took place in this large backyard of a family. They sold tickets which included the meal, as well as live music and dancing. In the back were a few vendors selling jewelry. I bought one of my favorite bracelets from a nice lady that made it by hand. The next week I saw her as we came out of a little shopping center in Gonzaga. She greeted me as if I was an old friend she hadn’t seen for a while.


We did quite a bit of sight-seeing, including visiting São Vicente.  We got in an ample amount of dancing, videoke, and live music. On my last night there, we danced the night away at a club on this small island just off the coast. The view was amazing!


The trip was just so much fun. I could easily see myself staying there. Did I mention how beautiful it was and the abundance of fresh fruit? Needless to say I cried when I boarded the bus to come home.

Dublin, Ireland

Not only does Dublin hold a certain intangible magical quality which makes it pretty irresistible, it happens to be the first city outside of the United States that I visited alone. The city overwhelmed my expectations for not only traveling alone but traveling in general. For this, Dublin will always hold a soft spot in my heart.

Dublin is known as a city of ambiance, where you can be content merely wandering the streets or sitting in a pub and taking it all in. But Dublin has a lot more than that going for it – namely, the people there. As a solo traveler, everywhere I went people graciously helped me with whatever I needed, and I never truly felt alone. From a stranger paying for my internet connection at a hotel when I was out of cash and badly needed to send an email, to the groups of young friends I made every evening in the pubs that then took me under their wing to show me their city, to the restaurant and hotel staff everywhere who always wanted to make sure I was ok and to hear about my life in San Diego. I felt like I had old friend around every corner in this wonderful city.

While I didn’t take many photos and the ones I took were only with my iPhone, I hope they give you a bit of a glimpse into Dublin’s allure. Pieces of my trip included the fabulous collections at the Chester Beatty Library, a glimpse of history in the bullet holes on the side of the General Post Office, a night at the famous Abbey Theatre, learning how to pour the perfect pint and then taking in the 360 degree view of Dublin at the bar at the top of the Guinness Storehouse, and last but certainly not least – enjoying a simple pint in a cozy pub.

And P.S. – the food was amazing.

I can’t wait to go back.

Gallery preview of my favorite Dublin photographs:

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Best of Dublin, a set on Flickr.