My time in Ireland this year developed in me a love for the Irish that will never go away. Of the many qualities I fell in love with about the Irish is their love of music, poetry, and performance. This was the connection to my family heritage that I subconsciously sought after. My grandpa was a first-generation Irish-American and a paid actor in FDR’s Works Progress Administration. This video prompted my dad to tell me for the first time that my grandpa had also been a singing waiter in Brooklyn. The pieces of family history are slowly but surely coming together, and I thank my time in Ireland for a lot of that.
Since leaving Ireland, I’ve told so many stories of the special nights in the Irish pubs with locals singing and dancing, that I drove up a bit of demand for sharing the beautiful music and performance that I experienced. So, I decided to make my next vlog be a focus on the music I experienced during my trip. This is my edit of the sounds from a few of my favorite performances I witnessed, which I paired with video I took on my phone of some of Ireland’s beautiful landscapes. I hope you enjoy, and I hope you make it to Ireland soon.
Oh, and don’t forget to turn your sound up! 🙂
Editor’s note: This column is written by my father, Rich Ryan, who I’ve invited to be a frequent contributor to Gracefully Global as “Dad’s Guest Blog,” as he calls it. He’s a retired professor, and he keeps himself busy with frequent traveling and writing a column in the local newspaper of my hometown, the Imperial Valley Press. This particular adventure we shared together along with my stepmom, Estela. This is the second post in the series, and the first post was written about Salvation Mountain, which you can read by clicking here. The photos are by me.
To the southwest of Niland’s Salvation Mountain is the Sonny Bono Salton Sea National Wildlife Refuge. Entry is free.
The Salton Sea which straddles northern Imperial County and southern Riverside County is an inland saltwater lake that is a stopover for seasonal bird migrations. The Refuge, a sanctuary and breeding ground for birds, is over 37,000 acres. The area is huge.
The Sonny Bono visitors’ center is easily accessible from California Highway 111. It is approximately a twenty-minute drive from Salvation Mountain to the Wildlife Refuge and less than two hours from Palm Springs. Driving south on California Highway 111, turn west on Sinclair Road which will bring you directly to the center’s entrance.
You will pass a series of huge geothermal plants that run along both sides of Sinclair. Signage is minimal so be alert. The visitors’ center is not fancy but possesses the basics: parking, a gift shop, informed docents, restrooms, and shaded picnic tables.
Next to the center is a large, unshaded viewing platform from which to observe flocks of migrating birds such as white phase snow geese feeding in an irrigated field. Bring binoculars. Migrating is the key word. These birds are not permanent residents so check the website for migrating bird information.
Why should you visit the Refuge? The Refuge is situated within the Pacific Flyway. If you enjoy the outdoors and watching wildlife in their natural state, this is the place to be.
Birds from all over the western states, northern Mexico and Canada winter over here. Even during a brief visit, we saw dozens of pelican formations flying over and landing on the artificial islands established in the Refuge’s lakes.
Thousands of shore birds line the Salton Sea which is about a half mile walk from the visitor’s center. I was lucky on my first visit to startle a blue heron as I approached on a canal bank road. A great blue heron taking off is a majestic sight.
Do be weather-wise when visiting Imperial Valley. This is low desert, and from late spring to early fall temperatures will usually exceed 100 degrees Fahrenheit. It’s best to visit during the mild winter, late fall, or early spring. A sun hat and water are must haves. Enjoy your visit.
– Richard Ryan, Guest contributor
Instagram: @desert_rich
It is hard to imagine that two artists alone could make an indelible mark on a city that would sustain for decades, a century, or more. Yet Diego Rivera and Frida Kahlo’s legacy in Mexico City – the fifth largest city in the world – is still very real and tangible. As a photographer, theatre artist, and arts advocate, I feel at home in cities that embrace art, and Mexico City is no exception. I relished every opportunity on my recent trip to experience the Mexico that Rivera and Kahlo knew and loved, taking in their art and visiting their homes and haunts.
In fact, I dedicated an entire day-and-a-half of my Mexico City vacation to my immersion into the world of Diego and Frida. Here’s where I went:
Museo Estudio Diego Rivera y Frida Kahlo
Calle Diego Rivera 2, Álvaro Obregón, San Angel Inn, 01060
+52 55 8647 5470
The home and studio of Diego Rivera where Frida Kahlo also lived and worked for many years, famous for its incredible architecture by Juan O’Gorman.
Time needed: 1 to 2 hours
San Ángel Inn
Calle Diego Rivera 50, Álvaro Obregón, San Ángel Inn, 01060
+52 55 5616 1402
Across the street from Diego Rivera’s home and studio, the pair were known regulars at the bar in this gorgeous inn.
Time needed: 1 to 2 hours
Museo Frida Kahlo
Londres 247, Del Carmen, Coyoacán, 04100
+52 55 5554 5999
La Casa Azul, Frida’s childhood home and where she lived for much of her adult life, made famous by the film, Frida.
Time needed: 2 to 3 hours
Tip: Reserve your visit online in advance! Otherwise, there is a good chance you won’t get in.
Leon Trotsky Museum
Rio Churubusco 410, Coyoacán, Del Carmen, 04100
+52 55 5658 8732
Trotsky, a Soviet Marxist revolutionary, was granted political asylum in Mexico in 1936 due to his fans, Frida and Diego, urging the president of Mexico to do so. He and his wife lived at Casa Azul until his affair with Frida made things dicey, at which time he bought his own house just a short walk from Casa Azul, which is now a museum.
Time needed: 1 to 2 hours
Palacio Nacional
Plaza de la Constitución S/N, Centro, Cuauhtémoc, 06066
+52 55 3688 1255
The seat of the federal executive in Mexico, this gorgeous federal complex is worth a long visit. Part of the visit will be to take in Diego Rivera’s famous murals adorning the exterior walls of a major stairwell and several hallways.
Time needed: 2 to 3 hours
Tip: Allow extra time to check in with security. They require a picture ID. It would be a good idea to combine this visit with your visit to the historic center, zócalo, and cathedral.
If you are interested in seeing more of Diego’s artwork, this blogger outlines where to find other Rivera murals in the city. Another museum to check out is the Anahuacalli Museum, built after Rivera’s death to house his huge art collection.
Stay tuned for blog posts outlining each of my experiences. I’ll be starting with the moments of my adventures that stood out the most at Diego and Frida’s home and studio.
As the host of the oldest university in the western world, Bologna has been a second home for young people from across Europe for centuries. And with the saturation of young people comes the inevitable nightlife of those who don’t have morning meetings and people depending on them to make breakfast.
I’m one of those students that made my pilgrimage to Bologna, only to be charmed by the nighttime energy of this city. Only in Bologna does coming home at 3am on a Saturday night feel early. After five years of this, I’ve finally learned to prioritize my favorite places, and cut my nights short so I actually come home before sunrise. Sometimes.
The energy of the city is visceral, and therefore photographable. Instead of always wasting my nights away in laughter and Italian wine, I’ve started shooting instead. Or at least, taking a few minutes to shoot on my way home, ha! My new lens is a f/1.8, and the results have been fantastic. I hope you enjoy my meanderings through the streets of Bologna, seen below. And stay tuned for a vlog coming soon, featuring interviews with Bologna’s best bartenders!
There’s nothing like spending a little quality time with someone who just “gets” you. Double that pleasure when you can spend time with them on the backdrop of one of the most intriguing cities in the world.
That golden opportunity came to me in the form of a surprising Facebook message from my American friend Clint in February. Simply put, his message went something like this. “Peggy, me and a friend are meeting in Rome for a vacation in March. Want to join us?”
Well geez, he didn’t have to ask me twice. I booked my train ticket to Rome immediately. I couldn’t wait.
Clint is one of the few people in my life that has seen nearly all the homes I’ve had as an adult. A feat in itself, he’s joined in my adventures coast to coast in the US, and even across the pond in Italy. He meandered into my life ten years ago carrying homemade banana bread, and the rest was history. He had just moved to San Diego and wanted to get involved in the arts, so he signed up to volunteer in the marketing department of the Old Globe, where I worked. After a significant amount of homemade baked goods, he had permanently won a spot in my heart as a wonderful friend. We share a love of art and people and traveling, and are somewhat of a pair of lost souls. So naturally, an invitation to travel with Clint couldn’t be turned down.
I arranged my schedule to spend the weekend with Clint, and on Sunday his friend would join us after his flight arrived.
I was thrilled to have a sleepy but happy Clint all to myself on that rainy Saturday we spent meandering around the center of Rome with no particular agenda,
interspersing glimpses of architectural wonders and warming up over tea and wine (in no particular order, depending on how the mood struck us).
Clint has a way of truly savoring the moment, and when I spend time with him, wherever we are, he always manages to get me to look at things differently.
He spotted a balloon horse stuck in the ceiling of the Pantheon, which we stood and giggled at for what seemed like an eternity.
And despite myself, he managed to convince me to take a silly picture with Pinocchio (photo not included, sorry guys 😉 )
We proudly relished our tourist status that night when we went to Ristorante Alfredo for dinner (the home of the “American” pasta dish, Alfredo), which was actually on the recommendation of my student, who grew up in Rome. It was delicious.
The next day David woke us up upon his arrival from the Rome airport after his red-eye from Denver. David is a history buff (although the term doesn’t do his knowledge justice) who can’t get enough of historical cities, and our first introduction was that sleepy Sunday morning in the hotel in my pajamas. I had no idea what to expect from a day with David and Clint. Despite his long flight, David was already ready to start exploring. Poor guy, it was no easy task to get me and Clint dressed and out the door.
Being quite the gentleman he is, David deferred to my wishes for the day, knowing I had a shorter time to explore than he did. I was armed with a little wish list for sight-seeing in Rome, a list that I owed to an improvised english lesson with a student brimming with excitement about her recent weekend in Rome spent with her sister, a local. I was thrilled I had managed to find the list and had such a supportive crew with me with which to enjoy it.
We started out the day in classic Clint/Peggy fashion, just meandering.
But now we had David, the perfect addition, who was able to legitimize our disorganized approach by explaining the history behind every random architectural ruin we stumbled upon in our meandering.
Which, in Rome, are about a dime a dozen. In between our history lessons and my photo ops, David managed to charm me with the sweetness that he is.
After a long trek to Piazza Santa Maria in Trastevere, highly recommended by my student, we needed to rest and eat a bit. David was more than content to stop and enjoy the area a bit longer, announcing it was his favorite neighborhood in Rome. Clint wasn’t in the mood for eating, but David enthusiastically copied my order for a Roman specialty (the dish even inspired him to learn how to make pasta by hand back home in Denver!), cacio e pepe with a splash of pistachio. Heaven. Over devouring each of our plates, I discovered how much we have in common, from blogging to traveling to friendships, David was one of us. A lover of people and places, and definitely someone I would make room in my heart for.
After an unexpected and truly impressive stop at St Maria in Trastevere Basilica,
we continued on foot to a less widely known tourist destination called Piazza dei Cavalieri di Malta. I knew nothing but what I had heard from several students: you go there, you look through a key hole, and you see the best view in Rome. Sounded promising.
Amidst more history lessons and lots of laughs, we made our way to the Piazza dei Cavalieri di Malta,
which we found at the top of a hill in the center of an entourage of churches and gardens with seemingly limitless exploration potential.
But where was the keyhole?
The keyhole was at the front of the long line of people. Why is it that the most obvious of things are sometimes the most evasive? We got in line and waited about five minutes (there were no other Americans in line), and sure enough. The view from the keyhole was beautiful.
But so was just about everywhere on this beautiful hill…each garden, church, and view seemed to surpass the last. And we even caught the sunset. It was the perfect way to end the day.
My train departure was impending, unfortunately. We grabbed a cab, enjoyed a whirlwind tour of the city amongst the craziness that is Roman traffic,
and ended up back at our hotel in time to enjoy a drink at the rooftop bar. If it is possible, Rome at night is even more impressive. The city was like a sparkling wonder…
I hugged the guys a hurried goodbye and ran to the station. It should have been a somber train ride home, but my disappointment over my short visit was quickly overridden by my giddiness over acquiring a fabulous new friend, seeing Clint again, and, well, being in Rome. Enough said.
I recently spent a weekend in Kufstein, Austria. Which is a pretty small town. According to recently garnered information, it is located between South Tyrol in Italy and Bavaria in Germany, and is right around the corner from SkiWelt Wilder Kaiser – Brixental, which is Austria’s largest interconnected ski area. I don’t ski. And I didn’t study geography in school (unfortunately). So when I went, I really had little to no idea where I was actually going. My goal was simple: I was going to meet some old friends. The actual location of my friends was just a minor detail. I had a feeling we would have fun wherever we were. And thankfully, I really turned out to be right.
My great friend Timo, a fellow arts management nerd and a friend I made while studying at Carnegie Mellon in Pittsburgh, PA, has a teaching gig at a university in Kufstein and invited me out for the weekend. I am always looking for an excuse to travel, and I had never been to Austria, so why not? And to make matters better, a wonderful mutual friend of ours was working in Munich, only an hour train ride away. Two countries and two friends to explore with promised to be a fantastic weekend
Now, an important side note. I had no idea how to track down the train to get to Austria from where I live in Bologna, so I asked my friend Timo to do the research. By going directly to the Austrian ÖBB train website he was able to find me a round trip fare (not listed on the Italian train site) for a mere 60 euro. The train ride was not only totally economical, but it ended up being one of the highlights of the trip. Riding through the Italian Alps defines the term “eye candy.” Views rivaling Yosemite or Rocky Mountain National Park are just whizzing by like, no biggie.
But as wonderful as the train ride was, the real highlight was the hospitality of my friends. As the true gentlemen that they are, they had every moment planned, and still managed to let me pick my favorite parts of the trip. Timo met me at the train station, gave me a whirlwind tour of Kufstein, and brought me home to drop off my bags and to have a relaxed at-home happy hour.
Then on to an amazing Austrian meal complete with a character of a waitress and a huge fireplace in the middle of the restaurant, and not a tourist in sight. Nothing better than an Austrian salad and some potatoes and cheese. Yes, I’m easy to please.
The next day involved a superb Austrian brunch with endless scrumptious bread and cheese, a tour of his university, and a hike that straddled the border of Austria and Germany (he was looking forward to making free calls to Germany when we got to that part of the hike).
And a giant lake. It was overwhelmingly beautiful. In my life, not a typical day. But the Austrians seemed pretty nonchalant about all the grandeur and such.
We topped off the awesome day with a sushi dinner of all things at a boisterous local hangout. I was thrilled.
Last but not least. Our day in Germany. After a train we nearly missed (running after trains is not sexy, I really need to start planning more appropriately), we met our friend Thomas for lunch in Munich at Prinz Myshkin, a restaurant they let me choose in the historic Altstadt neighborhood. And the restaurant was vegetarian, no less. What more could I ask for? Then, as the arts management nerds we all are, our next stop was the modern art museum, Pinakothek der Moderne. We sauntered our way to the museum after lunch with a brief delay by the Carnival parade that intercepted our walk.
Adults dressed as jungle animals? I was interested.
Once in the museum, I managed to set off several alarms in my picture-taking gusto as we casually took in the spectacular architecture of the museum, and the awesome Jeff Wall exhibit.
Followed by a great coffee break at the bar and a late Indian dinner when we got back to Austria. It was a successful day, I would say.
I left the next morning, and my disappointment about my short stay in beautiful Kufstein was short-lived, as once again the spectacular scenery of the ride through the Alps captured my devotion for a few short hours.
Back at home in Bologna, I was newly enlivened with the spirit of my awesome weekend, thanks to the amazing gentlemen hosts. The first of a series of smashing successes with friend related traveling. I highly recommend it.
Yes, I’ve cried on friends’ shoulders, shared laughs, graduated, shopped, worked, participated in weddings…the normal life stuff. But ten years ago I never would have anticipated that I would be crossing Europe with my friends, and it would be thanks to them that I can experience Europe in a way that far and away surpasses your average tourist experience.
I’ve lived in Bologna, Italy, for three years, which is a big university town. Here I have been lucky to meet people from all over the world. Among my best friends are a Russian and a Serbian, and between the two of them we have heard a lot of Cold War and Bill Clinton jokes, which I am more than willing to suffer in exchange for the unique opportunity to see the world through their eyes once in a while. And even the Italians that I am drawn to seem to have the traveling spirit and have spread all over Europe.
So, luckily, I seem to have a friend wherever I want to go. And my mission is to take advantage of this as much as possible. In the last month I have been to Austria, Germany, and within Italy I have visited Venice, Treviso, Cassano D’Adda, Dozza, and Rome. Exhausting, but awesome.
My friends have brought me to these cities in different capacities – as tourists themselves, companions, hosts…and each trip was a pleasure. I have the karma gods to thank for this, because, well, let’s face it. Traveling with friends can be overwhelmingly awful as often as it can be wonderful. I’ve had my share of the awful – from my friend loosing his pre-paid credit card on the way to our vacation in Stockholm, leaving me to underwrite his trip. Or the evening a friend and I chose different adventures for the night, and thinking he would get home before me, he took the keys to our shared apartment from my purse without telling me, and never arrived at home, leaving me to search for an available hotel room in the wee hours of the night on foot in Hamburg, Germany.
But, despite my past challenges, I can still whole-heartedly recommend traveling with friends. The lighthearted, more outward focused energy between friends usually leaves us more emotionally open to meeting people during our adventures, which I believe is the true spirit of traveling. Traveling with friends can be a nice break from traveling with your family or significant other in that it allows you to escape the normal role you play within your family unit. And when you visit friends in their cities, you couldn’t ask for a better way to experience a new city.
I only hope you can learn from my utter failures and keep in mind a few of my tips: Try to travel with friends that have at least an equal amount of travel experience as you, and friends that you have traveled with before (at least a little bit) – i.e. don’t go to East Africa with someone you’ve never even left your own city with. The more they love to travel, the better. And if you aren’t completely flexible in every way along with your friend(s), the more you have in common economically, habitually, and with your goals/interests, the less conflicts you will have. Which, in the end, I guess is just basic logic.
Logic?? What’s that???
Stay tuned for my series of posts about my trips this month with my fabu friends. And the pics!! Oh, the pics. Several thousand of them. But don’t worry, they’ll be edited. 🙂
A presto!
Living far away from home isn’t always easy. But this sunset view of St. Peter’s Basilica just off of the Piazza dei Cavalieri di Malta in Rome has a way of melting away all of my homesickness. Just one gentle sweep of my eyes across the Roman rooftops and all my worries are gone…
A country as beloved by Americans as Italy means there are a lot of tourists here. And while there’s technically nothing wrong with lots of tourists, the general consensus would be that high ratios of tourists greatly diminish the potential for experiencing a country as we dream of, stepping out of the predictability of our lives into a temporary, magical world where everything is different and fascinating. I’ll never forget the American woman who unknowingly cut into all of our “magical” experiences when she loudly announced at a restaurant in Venice, “Hey, y’all got somethin’ ta eat ’round here?”
I can’t tell you how many times I have been to Florence or Venice or Cinque Terre and felt sorry for some of the tourists. Now, don’t get me wrong – a trip to Florence is amazing no matter what. But an Italian vacation hitting only the most famous cities means never truly touching the spirit of the Italian lifestyle, which, technically, is what brings us here to begin with, right? Instead, I recommend with gusto – even if your next vacation outside of your country is short – scheduling in some time in a city off the beaten path, no matter how small and insignificant that city may seem. These are the places that incubate those travelling moments you’ll never forget.
Take Treviso for instance. With a mere 20 minute time investment on a train leaving from Venice every half hour or so, you’ll be so far from the crowds of tourists that you’ll think your train crossed you into some sort of other dimension instead of just transporting you 25 miles away. Impeccably maintained with remains of frescos adorning many buildings,
and lazy art-filled canals cutting through the center of town, dotted by chic cafes and high quality osterias,
surprisingly even many other Italians don’t give this beautiful city its due credit.
My conversation announcing my trip to Treviso to my Bolognese English students went something like this:
“I’m going to Treviso Sunday!”
“Treviso? Why??”
“Because I want to go someplace new!”
“There’s nothing in Treviso. Don’t go there.”
But still itching to get out of Bologna and not wanting to spend a lot of money, I went anyway, inspired by the advice I found in the blog, Around and About Treviso. But because of my friends’ bad advice, I was so disillusioned about Treviso’s potential before I even arrived that I only scheduled about five hours of time to explore the city, thinking that would be more than enough time. Fortunately, I was quite mistaken.
Instead, what I found in Treviso was an afternoon of nothing but pleasure. The center of the relaxed city is mostly closed to traffic. I let out a sigh of relief as I slowed my normal pace to stroll Treviso’s clean streets under the mini porticos, enjoying the beautiful architectural touches of the thoughtfully updated medieval buildings.
And most of my day continued like that. I followed all the instructions on the blog except taking advantage of the nature trail because I ran out of time. I went by the three beautiful churches. I had the best tiramisu I’ve ever eaten at Antica Pasticceria Nascimben, which is only fitting, being that Treviso is considered to be the home of tiramisu.
I checked out the exhibit at Ca’ dei Carraresi, beautifully positioned with picture windows along one of the main canals. But the most important “attraction” in Treviso is that the city shines so much with the beauty of the unmistakable care that it has been given over the years, and I was content just to spend the day walking the streets and people watching.
No travel guide would ever put this on the list of “must-dos” in a city, but in Treviso there’s nothing better than an afternoon of petting happy dogs (and children dressed as dogs!) on walks with their families,
resting a moment on a park bench to enjoy an outdoor sculpture bathed in nature, or buying a two euro glass of local prosecco to sit and enjoy the beautiful canal view for just a bit longer.
I hope to go back soon, this time for a weekend. And in the meantime Treviso stands tall and proud among my memories of my Italian adventures. In my opinion, we spend too much time focusing on seeing “the sights.” We are determined to have the best vacations, and I guess that’s the simplest strategy to achieve this. But to have the opportunity to be a quiet guest in a foreign, beautiful world and just to watch, and to learn, those people’s lives…that, I think, is the best. I hope you can someday make it to Treviso, and if not, that you find your own Treviso soon. There’s probably one closer than you think.
I live in Bologna, Italy, a mere five and a half-hour drive from Basel, Switzerland, which hosts one of the most important annual modern and contemporary art shows in the world, Art Basel. In my two years of living in Bologna, did it ever occur to me to make a trip to Basel? No. Why not? Good question. Laziness…money…ignorance perhaps…I guess it gets the best of us sometimes. Our own backyards are sometimes the last place we explore. In this case, I was lucky enough that my friend Zong rescued me from my remiss by inviting me to meet him at his gallery’s exhibition this year at Art Basel.
Having virtually no visual arts education and not being a fan of fairs and trade shows in general, my decision to go was in the spirit of adventure, friendship, and trust in Art Basel’s excellent reputation. And, well, why not? The exhibition spanned a full week in Basel, with about 300 galleries exhibiting, strictly chosen from a group of 2,000 applicants. It sounded promising.
Simply put, Art Basel wholly lived up to its reputation and in scale, was truly the most impressive collection of modern and contemporary art I have seen in my life. And I really can’t stress this enough – you don’t need to know anything about art to enjoy an exhibition like this. From all-star artists like Picasso and Warhol, furniture and design displays, photography, and installation art, there is something for everyone. And don’t even try looking at everything – there’s no time. Just stop and look at what really gets you.
Statistically speaking, there is something for everyone, and because this is not your average art show, that something is likely to be, well, amazing. I will never forget the moment I walked into one of the exhibit halls at Art Basel, roughly the size of a football field, and realized the entire hall was dedicated to installation art. This is not the sort of thing you find every day. I suddenly felt like an eight-year-old that just walked into Disneyland. I spent the afternoon weaving my way between larger than life paintings with their own soundtracks (think Moby Dick dressed in costume complete with whale sounds and a recorded reading), huge sculptures, through installed walls of fictional deserted businesses on an urban street, and into countless dark rooms with video projects, each one like a treasure waiting to be pulled out of a grab bag. By the end of the day, my mind was soaring from all the stimulation from so many visual delights. I was thrilled. I even managed to convince my athletic and left-brained travel companion, David, to come. He found solace in the visual mind tricks from architecturally inspired installations.
And the cherry on top of the fabulousness that was Art Basel was the beautiful, accessible, and relaxed city of Basel. While the city was packed with people attending the exhibition, there was plenty of room for everyone (aside from the steep hotel prices – book in advance). I spent a relaxing evening enjoying a stroll along the River Rhine, soaking in the beautiful architecture and the wonderfully relaxed vibe. My friend David spent the day hiking along the river, which he filled me in on with his iPhone photos when we met later for dinner at a local favorite for beer, The Fischerstube.
Reuniting with Zong in what really did turn out to be a mecca of modern and contemporary art, I really started kicking myself for not being more proactive with my travel adventure research and coming to Art Basel sooner. How many other amazing places are there to explore and things to do in the world am I missing because, well, no one has invited me? I’ve really got to get on this…Next year, Venice Biennale, here I come!
Here’s a slide show of my favorite photos from Basel:
Art Basel 2013, a set on Flickr.