The Islamic Arts Museum in Kuala Lumpur is one of my favourite museums in the world. I was in KL last year for several weeks in transit to India. Unfortunately, my Indian visa didn’t come through soon enough to enable me to head to Kerala as planned.
My first real contact with Islam came a few years prior during my time working for GOOG launching products in the European and African emerging markets; namely Egypt, Turkey, Dubai and Israel. It’s a faith that revealed itself to me from a multitude of angles. Hotly contested in Jerusalem on the foot of The Dome of the Rock. Hauntingly beautiful in the early morning call for salah in Istanbul. Mysterious and shrouded on the streets of Cairo amongst burqa’d women in the boiling heat.
I can’t ever claim to know everything there is to know about Islam. And I’m hesitant, even, to talk of what I’ve seen and heard during my time in these Muslim countries. What I do know is that it’s a faith surrounded in breathtaking art.
The mosques, the calligraphy, the intricate floral designs – all of it is astoundingly beautiful. You can’t look at Islamic art and deny that it was inspired by man’s personal relationship with the divine.
We camped on the rim of the Ngorogoro crater enroute to our safari in Tanzania. It was the coldest night of the month-long trip. The showers were freezing, the wind was cold and I couldn’t keep warm that entire evening. I was up most of the night shivering into the cold tent, listening to our zebra neighbours munching grass just beside my head. This is wild Africa. No fences, no guards – just open wild beauty. We told stories around the campfire while just a few feet away, the zebras munched away at their dinner. Just amazing.
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A big sky in Tanzania’s Serengeti. In a quiet moment just before darkness, a herd of elephants passes us by. See the large version here.
This was taken from our hotel window in Sienna. We had such luck here. We booked the hotel upon arriving at the train station and realized once we go there that we were staying in the Civetta neighbourhood – the winning contrada of this year’s Palio race. The hotel was old, gorgeous and large – rated 3 stars but priced at 1 (because it didn’t have air-conditioning)! These moments of serendipity happened throughout our time in Italy. More on Sienna in the coming days!
Another shot of Verona. The city of love.
Traveling through Italy in the heat of August may sound crazy to some (heck, most of the locals flee the country during this time) but to me, it was heaven. There is nothing more sensual than walking through ancient villages in the hot humid heat of the Italian summer sun. Your mind turns to mush, your skin moistens with a tanned sweat and the only possible worries that cross your mind are what flavour gelato to eat before lunch and if you should try fig instead of coconut today. If you want to renew your soul and get in touch with the simple abundance of life, go visit Italy in the scorching heat of the summer and see if you don’t come back changed.
It felt like fire in the sky. A July sunset in the middle of the Serengeti. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.
It’s hard to put myself back in the mindset of Africa today. Such a crazy time warp to look back on some of these pictures and remember how life was then. It was such a tough trip. A month-long safari through the African bush was nothing like I’d imagined it would be. It was much, much harder. Up before the crack of dawn to make breakfast, put down the tent and get on the road. Drive for much of the day through really harsh roads in the middle of nowhere East Africa (Zambia, Malawi, Tanzania and Kenya). Find the campsite, pitch the tent, run to the showers in hopes of catching the last bits of warm water before it runs out, dinner, and then bed. By 7pm you are so knackered and cold that all you want to do is crawl into your sleeping bag for the rest of the night. And there is dust and dirt everywhere. White turns brown, fingernails never look clean and clothes never really wash properly. I remember washing my hair and seeing brown run down the drain. So gross.
But, oh, the beauty of the place. So raw and unspoilt. Descending the Ngorongoro crater at the crack of a misty dawn is the closest I’ve felt to God. Honestly. It was breathtaking.
I find it really hard to write about Africa. Even while I was there, no words came to me when I tried. It’s a hard place to describe and is probably one of those places that will remain a very deep and personal memory. And maybe that’s what it’s supposed to be. Sometimes words aren’t necessary.
Wow, do I ever look dark in this photograph. A month in Africa and then a month in Italy will do this to you. I’m finally starting to get around to processing oh, about 1000 or so pictures from the last 4 months of travel. It is hard work and really needs some time.
This photo was taken in Verona, on a very hot August day on our way to one of the most beautifully situated Roman amphitheaters I’ve seen. We walked for miles and saw the city through a local’s eyes. We tried horse in a random cafe for lunch, visited a converted museum and walked in on a rehearsal for a dance recital to Stravinsky’s Puccinella. Mmmmm… Italy, how I love thee.
This was shot just a little over a year ago when Mom and I visited Iguazu falls on the border of Brazil and Argentina. It was a perfect time to go – off season, warm and quiet. There were no crowds and we had nearly the entire park to ourselves. Waterfalls are always difficult to photograph (white spray isn’t really that interesting to begin with) but I find that focusing on the surrounding areas makes for some pretty interesting pictures. This article has some pretty great tips as well. I can’t wait to get back to this place =)
