The Village Life

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The bus took it's own sweet time, winding through and around the forested mountain ranges in the eastern part of Honshu island. Through the wide windows, the life and landscape of rural Japan sped by: snow-capped peaks waiting for the summer sun with glacial blue waters heading down from them, terraced farms in every available piece of arable land in the valleys below, and bright green buds of the deciduous woodlands standing side by side with the evergreen conifers in the hills above. And in-between were tiny farmhouses with the vestiges of cherry blossoms, the perfect epitome of village life in Japan.

My destination was the village of Shirakawa-go, an old village in the Gifu Prefecture of Japan, that was so set back in time that it became a UNESCO World Heritage Site, partily due to the unique farmhouse style called the gassho-zukuri. And while the day, with gentle spring sun and mild temperatures, was perfect for visiting a place like this, it also drew in a thousand other tourists who all had the very same idea. I wandered through the village, transported back to a simpler era of feudal farming and sericulture. And were it not for the contrivances of modern civilization, I most certainly would have been. To be fair, that is the main draw of this picturesque village set amidst snow-capped peaks.

Here is a sampling of that beautiful timeless village, replete with cherry blossoms and modern selfie-stick carrying tourists...

Shirakawa-go
Gifu Prefecture, Japan

Morning in the Medina

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The narrow alleyways of the medina, vibrant and full of life the previous night, was now a series of shuttered shops. The street-cleaners were making their way around, sweeping away memories, stories and remnants of the last 12 hours. The loud cries of the daily newspaper delivery crew, echoed through the long hallowed hallways and dark alleys, the only sign heralding the new day.

Here and there, a few shops opened up, the owners still recovering from their sleepy stupor, with some clutching the mass of crumpled newspapers, while others were trying to start their daily routine with morning tea. The air was cool and refreshing, filled with the scent of earthly petrichor, as well as the strong scents of mint tea and spices. The noise levels, quiet at first, rose slowly with the arrival of shoppers and tourists. It was going to be another great day of routine business in the medina of Marrakech.

I spotted these two gentlemen waiting to being their daily routines while still trying to catch up on sleep.

Jemaa el-Fnaa
Marrakech Morocco

Holy Light

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I have been duly impressed by the awe-inspiring cathedrals of continental Europe, with their dazzling architecture inside and out, their intricate inlays, beautiful frescoes and colorful stained-glass windows, and had been hard-pressed to find something equivalent on the other side of the Atlantic. That held true until I visited the beautiful Notre Dame of Montreal.
Ornate documentation and vibrant colors add life to a rectangular floorplan lacking a nave and transept, while complex woodwork in the pulpit and the altar showcase the creative strengths the original designer. It was a memorable experience to wander around the peaceful cathedral, admiring the showmanship of its creators.

Montreal
QC, Canada

Blue Hour at the Blue City

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To visit Morocco is like turning the pages of some illuminated Persian manuscript all embroidered with bright shapes and subtle lines

Edith Wharton

Search for Chefchaouen and you get dazzling imagery of vibrant blue alleys and embroidered doorways framing the everyday life of the local community which thrives there. I got very absorbed exploring the innumerable unnamed streets, staring at artwork in colorful cul-de-sacs, enjoying the local children playing games, eyeing the variety of carpets and spices on sale in the souvenir stores, and catching the odd glimpse of feline denizens who seem to have command of the town with a calm demeanor.

I decided to take a step back to see how it was actually laid out, and until I got to that vista point, I never realized the scale of that town. From high above, the medina was a smorgasbord of "blue"-washed concrete buildings smashed together high up in the up on the hillside, with orange street-lights highlighting the thoroughfares snaking up the hills and highlighting the mosques that acted as focal points for the medina.I tried to imagine how it would have been a few decades ago, a thriving community of traders nestled high in the mountains. And how now, we, as tourists, get the opportunity and resources to visit places like these....

Blue Hour in Colmar

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The aptly named Little Venice in Colmar, was full of surprising delights. Turning around one corner, I found a small garden replete with a period fountain adorned with a statue, crumbling walls covered in vine, and a timber-frame house standing gallantly. Around another street, and I found rows of beautiful historical houses and structures carefully nurtured, a testament to the city council. If those timber-frame houses could speak, they would narrate oodles of tales from its long storied history.

They might have been residences, shops and tanneries during their glory years, but now they have been converted to souvenir shops, cafes, and restaurants, serving the throngs of tourists exploring the heart of the Wine Route. As the sun sets and the light disappears, the tourist crowd dwindles, leaving behind fairly empty streets devoid of the energy and activity of the day. And while this may be forlorn, it is just perfect for photography, especially during the blue hour.

Colmar

Alsace, France

In Search of Peace

The Hiroshima Peace Memorial was one of the saddest places I visited. It recollects the history of the events that transpired on Aug 6 1945 through powerful stories: stories of angst-ridden mothers and father searching for their children, some buried, some burnt, some barely clinging on to life. There were stories of children who, despite knowing they were going to die, were calmly telling their parents that it is going to be ok. All of these stories, and more, were preserved so that the horrors of war can forever be remembered.

Why did I bring it up now? I felt that it was apt given the apathy we seem to have developed towards the loss of human lives. The Peace Memorial showed truly what happened when humanity turned against each other, and yet, countless wars have been fought since. And similarly, the recent (in)actions by our own leaders made me realize that someday in the future, humanity would look back at this day and age, when we seem powerless to stop something as trifling as gun violence, and wonder why we never learnt from history.

The issue (of gun control) may be complex, and may have different meanings for different groups of people, but the consequence is the same: red and black. It is most certainly time to elevate the right to live over the right to bear arms.

During the Hiroshima bombing, a 2 year old girl was exposed to severe radiation, and developed leukemia at the age of 12. She started making these paper cranes hoping it'll help her recover. She made more than a 1000 paper cranes, but recover, she never did. But these cranes (some pictured here) became a symbol of peace

I sincerely hope through these events (the shootings) which have resulted in senseless loss of lives, we can create a symbol that can unite the citizens of this country against gun violence.

Hiroshima
Japan

Portal into a new culture

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As soon as I entered the mausoleum, I was taken aback from the sheer beauty of this place: over a dozen exquisitely designed structures stood shoulder to shoulder along either side of the corridor, each uniquely designed to respect the remains of those buried inside. There were some with harmonious decorations and intricate terracotta tilework adorning the façade highlighting great attention to detail, while others had unique geometric patterns zig-zagging around the doorway, and a few more had their inside domes painted in the serene pastel blue hues.

This was the beautiful necropolis called Shah-i-Zinda in the heart of the Silk Route in Samarkhand, Uzbekistan. I had timed my visit late in the afternoon where the long shadows from the slanted light light made for some unique compositions through the arched doorways along the corridor; I was getting so addicted to the beauty of this place that I had to pry myself out of this very photogenic necropolis.

Here is one of those mausoleums with a series of beautifully decorated arched doorways.

Samarkhand
Uzbekistan

Twilight by the Canal

I was wandering through the narrow alleyways crisscrossed by a multitude of canals. Colorful timber-frame row houses towered on either side,  replete with age-signifying ivy, colorful flowers that adorned the balconies, residences that rubbed shoulders with museums, restaurants, and shops, and thronging crowds of tourists and locals along with cafes where one could grab a coffee and watch the day go by. It was very easy to get lost in the beautiful Petite France historic quarter of Strasbourg, but I much enjoyed the process of discovering hidden surprises in the nooks and crannies of this beautiful city.

France has stayed as the top tourist destination for many years for multiple reasons, Paris notwithstanding. Yet, I find that it is some of the other attractions outside of the capital city that are far more charming. Strasbourg, as the base camp for exploring the Alsace region, proved to be such a worthy city with the rich history it carried. And twilight is an especially great time to photograph this beautiful city.

Strasbourg
Alsace, France

The Blue Hour

Time makes us all a prisoner of the present, forever transitioning from our own past into an unknown future. But photography can make us tunnel through to the past, helping us preserve memories and places. One such place forever etched in my mind was hiking through the beautiful Cinque Terre region. I walked along narrow trails that wound through vineyards, with beautiful views of a sun-drenched coastline and the azure waters of the Mediterranean. I passed by quaint farmhouses, cafes and restaurants, serving both the weary walker and the seasoned travelers thronging the colorful villages. I enjoyed savory Levantine cuisine, local wines, thirst-quenching fruit juices and refreshing gelatos.

I can still remember the sights, sounds and smells: the buzz of bees and the chirp of birds as I wound my way along the rocky cliffs, the sweet smell of summer grapes in the vineyards, the touristy chatter giving away to the sound of crashing waves in the villages, quiet alleyways adorned with beautiful houses  and so much more. But as the memories slowly fade away and the experience becomes less-defined, it is photography that preserves them.

And that is why this scene, the blue hour in Manarola, is so special, as it captures the quintessential beauty of this amazing region

Manarola
Liguria Italy

On Top of Bogota

Rising high above Bogota is the Monserrate, topped by an ancient shrine that atracted many pilgrims for decades. While they had to endure a strenuous climb to the top, a modern tramway whisked me to the top in a few minutes, and the view from above was something else.

On one side of the divide, there lay an endless array of rolling mountains draped with lush forests, with nary a sign of civilization. And on the other, the forests gave way to a concrete jungle - towering skyscrapers, gleaming glassy high-rises, and an endless ocean of humanity. And straddling both of these was the unique environment of the Monserrate

As I lay at the top pondering this juxtaposition, moisture-laden clouds rolled in from the mountains, accompanied by increasing gusts of wind. Crepuscular rays streamed from the sky highlight patches of the cityscape below, while a foreboding grayness took over the rest. I didn't stick around long after, just enough to capture this beautiful scene of the clouds unfolding over the cityscape of Bogota

Monserrate
Bogota Colombia

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