I am fascinated by low season.

It began when I lived in Europe for two years and got to experience its in-between seasons. Life seemed to begin again when cities and seashores were returned to the locals instead of being under siege by tour groups and cruise ships. Beaches in the fall and winter call to me. They make me breathe deeply, differently. I feel like I can stretch my legs and contemplate without hurry. The waters begin to look more silver than blue, and the light looks a little more ethereal. 

I love Italy every single day of the year, but I do love it (especially northern Italy) in the fall and winter. I love wrapping myself in a cozy (Italian) scarf and enjoying damp, foggy mornings in Milan and Venice. I love the crisp fall air heightened by the lingering scent of roasted chestnuts and cozy evenings in front of a plate of fresh seafood or risotto. Mostly, I like having Italy "all to myself" (well, not quite, but more than in July or August).

This collection is an ode to the northern Italian seaside during low season. First, Liguria and its coveted Italian Riviera, a narrow curve of land bordering France sprawled at the foot of the Mediterranean Sea. Then, my precious Lagoon - Venice and its glorious fog season. Coast to coast, in November, when the sea swells and the light envelopes you. 

These photographs are also meaningful to me because they represent hard physical work. Chasing the Venetian fog meant leaving my apartment at sunrise day after day, the cumulating fatigue only offset by passion and awe. In Cinque Terre, my body (and my heavy camera) had to climb thousands of steep steps in astonishingly hot weather to capture the villages and the sea from above. When I look at these images, I see so much of my personal history with Italy, but also my history with myself -- a decades-long journey of a flourishing mind and an aging body with one timeless constant: my profound love for Italy.

I hope you enjoy the collection as much as I enjoyed capturing these scenes.

Let's connect on Instagram!

On Italy's toe, the rest of the country feels far, far away. Here, the coastline is nicknamed "The Coast of the Gods", and rightfully so. The waters reach blue and turquoise hues that don't even seem possible, every sunset is a symphony, and the old villages seem to be carved out of the very rock they are perched upon. But perhaps what is most dizzying of all is facing the Tyrrhenian Sea and watching the Calabrian coastline taper off in the horizon while Sicily suddenly comes into view. Calabria's Tyrrhenian coastline offers a front-row view of Sicily's three active volcanoes: Etna, Stromboli and Vulcano. They make their presence known throughout the day, spewing and smoking like clockwork, reminding us of the fragility of everything. 

My stay in Calabria bombarded my senses, including my taste buds. The humble yet fiery cuisine is a grateful tribute to the gifts of the land and the sea. While throngs of youth leave the south every year in pursuit of opportunity in the north or abroad, the future of the region is left in the hands of passionate families who find ways to honor ancient traditions while embracing innovation. In the agricultural heart of the region, the plateau of the Monte Poro, I am in awe of the lush vegetation and abundance of olives, figs, bergamot, liquorice, lemon, almond and figs. And cheese. I should have led with that! The Poro is renowned for its pecorino cheese, a strong (even pungent) variety that, like all ingredients here, doesn't go unnoticed on the palette. 

When I think of Calabria, I am instantly pulled back to its colors, flavors and rhythms. The collection is simple, balanced, and dreamy. The photographs are vibrant yet serene. I hope that the pieces in this collection evoke what Calabria stirred in me - a longing to become more mindful and to deeply cherish the resilient yet fragile lands that surround us.

Below are the images from Calabria and Sicily's Aeolian islands that make up the collection. 

When the world changed, almost overnight, in 2020, I found myself craving shelter from all the noise and uncertainty. I needed a reprieve from the what ifs and now whats. I needed to come to terms with the fact that I was (among many other things) a travel photographer who couldn't travel. Everyone around me began to experience what had become second nature to me for years, way before the pandemic hit: working from home, balancing work and mental health, carving out screen-free self-care time, setting boundaries, and finding simple daily joys to ward off anxiety and depression. 

But a new shift also took place. Almost imperceptibly, I started clinging to nature, more than ever before. Desperately, even. As though fresh air and quietude were the perfect antidote to the storm of contradictory feelings within. I wanted to discover new places, however close they were to home, just to see something, feel something. But I also wanted to be still, to replenish and recenter. 

This blog post is an ode to the special (yet so very local) places that my heart and lens have filled up on. I've included the locations in captions, to help you add some refreshing places to your list. You'll also see which photographs have made their way into my art shop...my "Covid Collection", for lack of a better term!

​Looking back now, the seasons were good to me. They held me up with their poetry and life lessons, and I somehow never felt alone. 

Did nature help you recenter during this challenging time? Leave me a comment, I'd love to know. 

Below are the photographs available as prints in a variety of sizes.
​Click on them to learn more. 

Silvestro never stops learning and researching. In his downtime every year, he spends two months travelling the south by bicycle to research southern Italian wine and to learn directly from local producers. It was on those bicycle trips that Silvestro realized that so much of what he wants to teach cannot possibly be summarized on a chalkboard in a class. Instead, he felt inspired to create a television series to bring the intricacies of southern Italy to us, straight into our homes. 

Silvestro's passion for video is not a secret. For years, I've been a fan of his short educational films on different facets of the region. Through Silvestro's creativity and compelling storytelling, I've learned about topics like rosè, baroque architecture, wine tasting, how to read an Italian wine label, how to choose a knife, how to make orecchiette, and how geology influences wine. 

I can't wait to see where his Terronia episodes will take us, how they will enchant us and make us yearn to discover these unique regions in a meaningful, sustainable way.

Silvestro has launched an IndieGoGo campaign to fund part of his ambitious project. I invite you to watch his trailer and read all about his project on his campaign page. If you're passionate about authentic travel and Italian culture, you can back his project and select a "perk" based on the grape that inspires you!

I have no doubt that Silvestro's creativity and multidisciplinary teaching style will leave a lasting impression on anyone who watches his Terronia series.
​Silvestro: I wish you the best in this passionate endeavor!

From my heart to yours,
Kristina

In my last post, I took you with me to beautiful Nice on the French Riviera. I explained why I fled there in mid-October, and shared some fun facts about the city's history, how I felt there and, of course, TONS of photos of its landscapes, local life and inspiring little details.

One of the reasons I was lured to Nice was because it is also the perfect hub to explore other jewels of the Côte d’Azur, many of which can be easily reached by bus, train or car.

When I launch my Côte d’Azur print collection next week, you’ll notice that 4 places on the coast really tugged on my heart among all the towns I had the chance to visit. Places speak to us in unexpected ways sometimes, and so much of our nostalgia depends on our own memories of that day, the light, the people and perhaps whether or not there was ice cream involved.

So, who knows which places on the Riviera will inspire YOU the most! You’ll have to see them all to pick your own favorites.

When I close my eyes and think of Nice, I see her Promenade, the way the Sea changes its blue several times a day, the pizzas and ice creams, the window shutters and markets, the vast squares and narrow lanes, its dialect and busy port. 

As I mentioned ​in my last post, Nice has the perfect mix between old and new, urban and maritime, French and Italian. 

A very short hop away from Nice are 3 beautiful coastal towns worth visiting. Villefranche-sur-Mer is a picturesque town with an old harbor that is considered one of the deepest natural harbors of the Mediterranean, on a bay sheltered from strong winds. Beaulieu-sur-Mer and Cap Ferrat are tranquil resort towns that you can consider retiring in when you've made your first million. 

Spending time in the clifftop village of Èze was like being immersed in storybook pages. A village with ancient roots, it now is an atmospheric maze of shops, galleries and restaurants. Its warm color palette, textured architecture and pretty details suffice to overwhelm the heart from the first few moments of uphill climbing (which impacts the heart as well). 

From the Jardin Exotique (Exotic Garden) designed on the site of the medieval Château d'Èze fortress, you can lose all track of time surrounded by succulents, cacti and plants from all corners of the world, growing and flowering along winding pathways, caves and waterfalls, guarded by graceful statues perched high above the Sea. The views from the garden stretch far into the blue horizon and down below to Èze-bord-de-Mer and its beach. I would certainly go back to Èze and spend a whole day in this garden.  

​If you'd like to walk down to the beach, there is a steep winding path from Èze-Village. The surface of the path (even within the village) is quite slippery, so choose your shoes wisely. ​

Right on the Italian border, Menton feels wonderfully Ligurian in its architecture and, arguably more importantly, its limoncello. The lemon is the symbol of the coastal town, though its gentle micro-climate is also favorable to mandarine and orange groves, which make equally delicious varieties of liquor.

Menton has a charming old town, marina, waterfront promenade, daily market and beaches. The climb up to the top of the Baroque Basilica is well worth the views, both of the town and the Sea. 

Although it was mid-October, I took a deep breath and plunged into the Sea at the city beach just beneath the old town. As a local joked, after the first 30 minutes, the temperature of the water became more bearable. I didn't take pictures while floating on my back, but instead made a vivid memory of the stacked colored houses of the old town and the green hills surrounding it. 

Monaco is a must-see because of its world-renowned Monte-Carlo casino, but also because it is its own country with an interesting history.

It is easy to forget that Monaco is an independent country because France borders it on 3 sides (its fourth side bordered by the Mediterranean Sea) and French is its official language. Although Monaco is not formally part of the EU, there is no official border control when entering Monaco from France, and the euro is the sole currency.

The opening of its Monte Carlo Casino in 1863 made Monaco so wealthy that it no longer needed to charge income tax on its residents. To this day, Monaco continues to be a tax haven and a recreational destination for the wealthy, attracting visitors not only to its Casino but also to its annual Formula One race. 

If monarchies fascinate you, you could make a stop at the Royal Palace to watch the daily changing of the guards. (I found it more amusing to watch the crowds watch the changing of the guards through their devices). 

And, if you're like me and are amused by geography and borders, you can enjoy the fact that, depending on where you stand, you might be able to see 3 countries at once: Monaco, France and Italy. You can also get your passport stamped at the local tourist office!

Cannes is famous for its International Film Festival and its "Promenade de la Croisette" seafront strip of posh hotels, restaurants and shops.

​The Palais des Festivals et des Congrès was closed to the public during my visit, as they were setting up for an upcoming event, but I was able to enjoy a view of it from the long sandy beach. Fun fact: the sandy beach in Cannes is "artificial", in the sense that the city has had the sand brought over to enhance its appeal to visitors. 

Antibes is a chic town with a relaxed ambiance. As a Greek settlement, it was named "Antipolis", meaning "opposite city" because of its location across from Nice. It is known for its Port Vauban marina - the largest in Europe - which harbors both fishing boats and luxury yachts. You can walk the 16th century ramparts and admire the Alps from a distance. In Antibes, you have several choices of museums, notably the Musée Picasso. If the Sea and fresh air have stimulated your appetite, visit the Marché provençal market hall or enjoy a sorbet from one of the many ice cream shops in town. I really (really really) enjoyed my tropézienne sorbet, named after the traditional regional tart made with custard, butter cream, orange blossoms and sugar. Antibes also had lovely little shops to discover, and a charming English bookstore. 

An idyllic medieval village perched above sea level, St-Paul de Vence attracted many artists and writers in the 19th and 20th centuries who were looking for their muse, like Matisse, Chagall, Picasso, James Baldwin, Jacques Prévert and Yves Montand, to name a few. That artistic atmosphere is still alive and well today, as the town's narrow lanes are replete with contemporary art galleries and shops.

In the 14th century, St-Paul de Vence occupied a strategic position as a border city, and city walls were erected in the later half of the 14th century. Those ramparts and two of its original towers still stand today and, from them, you can enjoy sweeping views of the surrounding countryside. 

Now that you've had a glimpse of these coastal cities and perched towns, which do you most feel like visiting? Can you guess which 4 places left me longing to return? 
Leave a comment below and let me know!

Stay tuned for the unveiling of my new Côte d'Azur collection of fine-art prints, postcards and wall art. To get on the VIP list and get a sneak peek of the collection before it's launched, sign up here. 

From my heart to yours!

It's always just a matter of time until my restlessness makes me crave a suitcase, an airplane and a different timezone.

Sometimes, the travel bug is quite satiable by exploring new places close to home, like I did this summer. 

But sometimes, you feel like stretching your legs a little more. 

My favorite way of traveling is - like everything else I tend to do in life - based on feeling. What scenery am I daydreaming of? What would make my mind and body feel refreshed? Which culture is calling me? What kinds of photos do I want to share with you? (Don't underestimate the importance of the last question!)

This October, Nice had all the advantages for an easy, spontaneous getaway. 

For one, I felt an aching longing for Europe, especially Europe in the fall, which was my favorite season when I lived there. Nice was also inviting because it felt so accessible -- a direct flight, one tram-ride away from the airport, lots of accommodation options. It also has my favorite type of "city formula", namely: seafront + port + old town + new town, and it makes a great hub for exploring nearby coastal towns and villages. 

And, something that was particularly tempting: I had never been there. You know I love to return to places, but this time, I was in the mood for something new. 

So I scurried to put my work aside and to block off a week to rest my head, fill up my senses and press pause on "summer palette" for a little while longer, before immersing myself into falling leaves. 
​
​Essentially, Nice called and I went running. 

I immediately noticed how comfortable I was in Nice. It felt as though I had resumed my life in Italy. The architecture, Ligurian rhythm and Italian spoken all around me made me forget that I was in France for long moments at a time. Luckily, there were many fresh baguettes to remind me...

Nice owes its Italian similarities not only to her proximity to the Italian border but also to the fact that Nice went back and forth between belonging to "Italy" (or Savoy which became the Kingdom of Piedmont-Sardinia, which later became part of Italy) and belonging to France. In its complicated history, Nice was besieged and occupied several times by the French in the 17th and 18th centuries, and its ramparts and citadel were destroyed. In 1793, the French wanted to show that they were not annexing Nice against her will; a referendum was held and the people voted in favor of Nice belonging officially to France. 

Back in Italian possession in the 19th century, Nice was ceded to France as a thank you for France's assistance in Italy's war against Austria. A second referendum then confirmed the decision. Soldier and politician Giuseppe Garibaldi, who was born in Nice, opposed the result and argued that the vote had been rigged by the French. At the time, many Italians left Nice and moved down the Ligurian coast, giving rise to the movement of Italian irredentists who campaigned for the reacquisition of their beloved Nissa la Bella. 

The Niçard dialect has strong Italian influences and can still be seen on the street signs in Old Nice. 

So, Nice belonged to both France and Italy. But what do the English have to do with all this, then?!

In the 18th century, the English aristocracy began spending their winters in Nice, lured by the gentler weather. Before the seafront promenade was built, the waterfront areas were home to dockworkers and fishermen, rather than to fancy hotels and residences as we know it today. 

The "Camin dei Inglès" (Promenade des Anglais) walkway is said to have been proposed by the English as a useful urban project for beggars who came looking for shelter from the north during a particularly harsh winter. The wide waterfront promenade dotted with palm trees, beach umbrellas and blue chairs has now become the icon of Nice and its Baie des Anges.

Another symbol of Nice is the luxurious Hotel Negresco, opened in 1913 by Henri Negresco who wanted a sumptuous hotel to attract the wealthiest visitors to the French Riviera. The lavish rococo hotel with its iconic pink dome still maintains an elite bourgeois feel to it today. On the night of the Bastille Day attack on the Promenade in 2016, its famous main hall was used to triage wounded civilians, reminiscent of when the hotel was converted into a hospital during World War I. 

My sea-loving heart was so happy in Nice. I began and ended each day with the Sea. 
In the mornings, I would step out onto my AirBnB's balcony one block up from the Promenade, and try to peak between buildings to see what the Sea looked like, knowing full well that her color would change with every hour of the day. I would walk the pebbly beach after breakfast, taking long pauses between pictures to make sure I would remember the way the light and maritime air felt on my skin. I'd stop to notice the heavy scent of sea salt hanging in the air, and the deafening sound the tide made when it pulled out of the shore with millions of pebbles tumbling like coins in its grasp.

In the afternoon, I would plop myself down in front of the vast horizon, either on the shore or in one of the "chaises bleues", just watching, and being. A couple of times, I ventured into the water at high tide, amazed at how warm it still was in October. 

In the evenings, the Sea would summon me again and accompany me on my stroll back to the apartment. 

​Just for the sea (but for many other reasons), I could have stayed in Nice. 

Nice was also impressive for its many gorgeous squares and green spaces. I never felt rushed, squeezed, pushed or overwhelmed. The whole city had a soothing energy.

I can't say whether it feels like that for the locals, or at busier times of the year, but it definitely felt as though careful planning and restoration had paid off. Everything just made sense, from an urban planning perspective. 

Place Masséna is a sort of converging point between Old Nice and the new town. Walking up from the Promenade, you are blessed with this charming view of Apollo and the four horses on his head.

Place Masséna also leads to the "zone piétonne" (pedestrian street), bustling with restaurants, stores, ice cream shops and inns for every taste. 

You can stroll and sit for a long while in the calming "Promenade du Paillon" green space flanking Old Nice. If you look at a map, you'll notice it looks as sinuous as a river. That's because it was a river (the Paillon), which was covered in the 19th century. The river's terribly low water levels were unimpressive for residents, who mostly used the river to do their laundry. But the danger with the Paillon was that it could flood very quickly if there was a lot of rain in the hills behind Nice, and it did. The Miroir d'eau water jets and the nearby children's playground (featuring giant wood sea animals) were all designed to echo the underlying Paillon river. 

And if you enjoy narrow lanes far more than wide open spaces, then simply venture into the maze of streets of the Vieille Ville and linger there for hours. I promise you there is no shortage of inspiration for your senses. 

One of the aspects I miss most about living in Europe is the delight of market mornings. I would love buying not only produce and local foods from open-air markets, but also art, flowers and clothes. Especially in autumn and spring, I would love to find cozy sweaters and stylish boots, and to bring home art or antiques with a story to tell. 

The daily Marché aux Fleurs in the Cours Saleya square is primarily a flower market, but there are also many produce, food and art vendors. Off the Promenade, the Cours Saleya is behind the Quai des Etats-Unis (where you can see a mini Statue of Liberty). 

If you're a fish-lover like me, the fish market is located in Place St-François, an interesting part of the Old Town closer to Place Garibaldi. My Mom and I always say that I love the scent of fresh fish because she was unknowingly pregnant with me during her trip to southern Spain, where the smell of fish constantly made her nauseous. I like to think of traits that don't change, in a life where almost everything does!

At the heart of the Old Town, you come to the 17th century baroque Cathedral, Sainte-Réparate de Nice. Interestingly, its bell tower almost completely hides its gorgeous tiled cupola, so be sure to step back or climb up the hill to admire it in its entirely. ​

The Cathedral square, Place Rossetti, is also home to Nice's finest gelato shop Fenocchio, which is neither for the faint-hearted nor for the indecisive! Almost 100 flavors await your sampling. I recommend you visit once a day to try as many flavors as humanly possible! (Did I say once a day? I meant twice a day, at least). ​For the curious, my favorites were: meringue, fig, chocolate, nougat, cassis and almond. 

I'm sorry to say that to walk off all of the ice cream and pizza, the Promenade just isn't gonna cut it. Instead, you should climb up the Colline du Château (Castle Hill), take in the sights up top (like the Jewish cemetery, castle ruins and various lookout points) then walk down to visit the Port, and THEN walk all the way back to the new town via the Promenade. 

Then you can have more ice cream. 

The Port of Nice is currently under construction (in 2019) to accommodate a new tram, but the area is still highly enjoyable and picturesque. I love to lose track of time in ports and marinas, watching the comings and goings of boats, and imagining which one I would own. 

If you walk towards the Sea from the Port, you'll reach the Promenade, with the Monuments aux Morts, a tribute to citizens who lost their life in World War I.

Spending time in Nice in mid-October made me curious about how it changes and unwinds in the fall and winter. I am tempted to do as the English aristocrats did and trade my harsh winter for the gentle winter of Côte d'Azur! What do you think?

After all, one gets to know a place not only in its changing lights and tides, but its changing seasons. 

I hope my photos and words have convinced you to visit (or revisit) this precious place!

​Thank you, Nissa bella, for renewing my energy and spirit this fall. Our story's not done, I can tell. 

To read about the coastal towns and medieval villages I visited on the Côte d'Azur during my stay in Nice, check out this blog post: 

Stay tuned for the unveiling of the new Côte d'Azur collection of prints, postcards and wall art! 

Often, the most awe-inspiring places are right in your backyard.

Many of us travel far and wide before we set out to discover the gems that are right nearby. Lately, I have felt compelled to explore the beauty our province of Québec has to offer over the course of its four glorious seasons. You may have already read about my dreamy overnight stay in a historic lighthouse on a tiny island in the middle of the St-Lawrence river. Following those memorable days, I continued my trip inland along the Saguenay fjord, from Baie Sainte-Catherine, through the Saguenay Fjord National Park, to La Baie and Chicoutimi.

There is something about the region that is absolutely breathtaking, a vision that lingers in your mind's eye without fading until you return.

The deep waters are a mysterious mix of salt water and freshwater, their infinite ripples entrancing you in every light, as you watch the fog or rain or the millions of crystals dropped into the water by the Sun. The cliffs look a bit like whale backs, their silhouettes visible from a distance.

​The horizons are expansive, painted in a nameless color mixing blues, grays and greens in random but perfect proportions. And you stand there, feeling tiny, your lungs filled with fresh air and hope. 

La Baie is a borough of the city of Saguenay, the first colony in the Saguenay-Lac-St-Jean region. It is a beautifully scenic spot that is well worth the visit! The Saguenay river splits into a fork at this point, and La Baie is located on the "Baie des Ha! Ha!" (on the Ha! Ha! river). Fun fact: although the name might make you laugh aloud, it apparently either stems from the Algonquin "place where bark is exchanged" or from the French "unexpected obstacle on a path". Linguists always ruin all the fun!

La petite maison blanche (The Little White House) is a symbol of resilience. An ordinary Chicoutimi home built in the 1900s, it survived two major floods caused by the overflowing of the nearby dam. The buildings around it were totally destroyed, but there it firmly stood, against all odds. Today, the Little White House has been converted into a museum commemorating the floods, and surrounding area has been transformed into a lovely park with waterfalls paying tribute to its past. 

Anse de la Tabatière is close to Anse St-Jean and part of the SEPAQ Saguenay Fjord National Park. It boasts breathtaking panoramas over the fjord from several lookout points that are relatively easy to hike to once you leave your car in the parking area and enter the park (a small admission fee applies). 

Here, in contrast to l'Anse de la Tabatière, you are almost at eye-level with the fjord, and you can't help but feel moved by its immensity and beauty. Every angle, every light, every color is inspiring, and you could probably stay here for hours. I know I could! If you can, time your visit with the sunset in the summer months to catch it setting on the water. 

The sandy beach at l'Anse Saint-Etienne was created by the natural emptying of a lake that was once located upstream from the village. The small town was completely razed after a serious fire in 1900, and it is said that, at low tide, remains of the old village can be seen. L'Anse Saint-Etienne attracts thousands of visitors every year because you can see beluga whales from its shore. 
​
For more information on these sites, visit:
SEPAQ Parc National du Fjord-du-Saguenay
Saguenay Lac-St-Jean 
Tourisme Saguenay

Have you been to the Saguenay region? What was your favorite part? Let me know in a comment. I always love to hear from you!

I have not always been a photographer, but I have always been a keen observer of the world around me.

​As a writer, I am attentive to details and how our senses trigger deep emotions. As a scientist, I am curious about how the external world impacts the internal one. As someone with “synesthesia” where the brain innately creates color sensations in response to stimuli like language, movement or music, I have an affinity for vibrant colors. 

​It was my scientific career that led me to photography. I lived abroad for my studies and research. I traveled to several international conferences every year. By practicing photography, I discovered a new form of storytelling that felt like my writing.

When I stop to think about it, there are 3 main themes that underlie my photography. These 3 themes can be found, in obvious or subtle ways, in everything that draws my eye, slows my step and makes me reach for my lens to record the moment.

I think my love for photography blossomed partly a result of my hating endings - photography is a way for me to cheat Time, to keep the sun above the horizon, to keep hot air balloons in the sky, to keep raindrops on the windowpane, and to keep my heart feeling like it did then. 

​Just like my Mom used to encourage me when I was little to "make a memory" with my eyes when I was sad about leaving a beautiful place behind, I have learned to "make a memory" of what I see - and what I feel - through words and photographs.

Has a place ever cast a spell on you?

Places are magical. How do we know deep inside us that we must visit a place long before we even make plans to get there? How do some places pull us back, again and again and again, as though we have left an anchor there? And how to describe that feeling of returning and noticing that a place has changed and we have changed, yet we can somehow feel exactly as we once felt there?

Nostalgia must be one of the most complex and powerful emotions a heart can feel. An aching pull, melancholy and gratitude for a place and a time that mattered. 

It's a feeling that has been present and familiar to me for as long as I can remember - a sort of sixth sense for me. 

“Veni Etiam” is a Latin phrase meaning “come again”. In my photographic work, I celebrate the magical pull of places and the beauty of returning to them.

Out of all the places where I have dropped an anchor, Venice exerts the strongest pull of all. Just when I think that I have photographed Venice enough, she astounds me with a thousand new angles and moods that I see for the first time despite countless returns. 

Have you ever paid attention to where your gaze goes? Is it drawn to details or to the whole?
​
Details are often what make all the difference in a scene, mood or memory. Observing details affords us an opportunity to slow down, to feel something, to remember.

​Photography for me is about noticing, celebrating and remembering not only the grandiose but (especially) the mundane. 

What 3 words would you use to describe the Sea?

The Sea teaches me that I am small, but hopeful. That life has tides, always cyclical and never permanent, sometimes gentle and sometimes fierce, capable of knocking us down or cradling us in its arms. The Sea swells and recedes, floods our senses but erases our footsteps. She teaches us to accept that storms come, but to rejoice that they also do pass. She is wide open yet secretive, romantic yet melancholy, promising yet impossible. We can leave her but never forget her. We surf and float and dock and anchor and sail and sink, in her captive wonder, in the grasp of her tides, winds and motives. ​

Whether you've just discovered my blog and shop, or you've been following me for a while, thank you for being here with me. Thank you for reading my words, for responding to my photographs and, sometimes, for finding a part of yourself in my observations. 

From my heart to yours,
Kristina

Imagine sleeping in a lighthouse on a tiny island where you feel like you are just a dot in the vast world. Imagine your ears being filled all day long with birdsong, wind and the sound of water spilling over mossy rocks. Imagine a day where your conception of time shifts to depend only on the sun and the tide, where the night sky is brighter and where your breaths are deeper than they have been in a long while.

On this little island in the middle of the St-Lawrence river in the Canadian province of Quebec, you'll be charmed by marine life and get a glimpse of what it was like to be a lighthouse keeper in the 19th century.

Across from Rivière-du-Loup, this enchanting archipelago is made up of three small islands: Le Gros Pot, Le Petit Pot and le Pot du Phare. Several other islands can be found nearby, like Hare Island (Ile aux Lièvres). The name for Brandy Pot island comes from sailors who thought the puddles of water pooled in pockets on the island's rocky shores looked like brandy.

Historically, the sailing conditions were challenging in this area of the St-Lawrence river; the currents were strong and the many small islands were difficult to see in the night and thick fog. Shipwrecks were far too common, so the construction of several lighthouses was commissioned. The Brandy Pot lighthouse was built in 1862 on the same rocky promontory where it proudly stands today. For 102 years, six keepers took turns enduring the harsh winters, strong winds and unpredictable weather. They committed their lives to the daily upkeep of the lighthouse, to shining its light through each long night, and guiding ships to safety. What an honor it must have been to be a lighthouse keeper, and what a privilege to have this grandiose view to call home. 

The lighthouse fell into disrepair after it was abandoned in 1964, when its light was automated and later rendered obsolete by a modern steel lighthouse tower built a few meters away. But the island was still rich with marine birds and vegetation, which led a group of biologists to join efforts in its preservation. Together, these biologists founded the non-profit organization Société Duvetnor, which gradually acquired several islands in the lower St-Lawrence and invested in the conservation of these bird sanctuaries.  

The aged Brandy Pot Lighthouse was renovated in 1989 according to its original architectural plans and fitted with a new lantern. What helped raise funds for its restoration was the Duvetnor organization's collection of down from the nests of the island's eider ducks each spring. The coveted down from these nests was exported to Europe where its value soared. To ensure the sustainability of these conservation efforts, the Government of Canada recently acquired the island from Duvetnor, though the non-profit organization continues to receive visitors in the three rooms of the historical lighthouse, as well as on the neighboring Hare Island (Ile aux Lièvres). Duvetnor's excursions and lodging serves their primary goal of wildlife conservation. 

Aboard the small ferry crossing over to the archipelago from Rivière-du-Loup, both the height of the waves and my childish excitement had butterflies fluttering wildly in my stomach. Smiling widely, I gripped the metal bar in front of my seat and watched through the soaked windows as a red and white structure slowly grew into view. I have loved lighthouses for as long as I could remember, and here was my chance to stay in one overnight. Two other couples were aboard the boat - hiking shoes, cameras and wine in tow. 

Before disembarking at the lighthouse, our guide Quentin gave us a tour of the archipelago, recounting historical facts to six faces who listened intently, punctuating some of his sentences with a shutter press to record these unique landscapes we felt so privileged to witness. 

When we docked at the lighthouse island and climbed up the long, steep ramp towards solid ground, my mind did all the photographing. The sun was low in the sky and the lighthouse was towering over us, greeting us as it had greeted countless unknown sailors in the past. To our backs, the river, the coastline far beyond our view. Around us, layers of rocks and trees and purple wildflowers, swaying in the fierce wind as though waving us on. Above us, seagulls making their presence known, taking an opportunity to remind us that they are in command here. 

Our gracious Duvetnor hosts welcomed us warmly and showed us to our cozy rooms, thoughtfully decorated in a way that grounded us in the history of the place. We were given a few minutes to get settled and then taken on a walking tour of the island's trails, which are accessible only after the nesting season ends in July. 

The light was magical and we felt blessed to have a perfect view of the horizon, as it had been extremely foggy the day before. Our guide took us along the paths to different lookouts, pointing out the different vegetation and various mysteries of the island, like a cross planted in the middle of the forest. 

My favorite lookout point was "La Chaloupe", which won my heart in that light and won it over again the next morning shortly after sunrise. 

After our walk, we had free time to walk around, sit on the terrace or climb to the top of the lighthouse tower.

Soon, it came time for dinner to be served. We were spoiled with a four-course meal, each dish prepared with local ingredients and fresh garden herbs (in this case, their "garden" being a whole island!). Warm bread, a charcuterie & cheese board, ginger carrot soup, salmon on a bed of wild rice, and a homemade chocolate cake for dessert. 

As we sat in the dining room, the sky put on a symphony of colors to remind us of how blessed we were, in case we had forgotten. We dined for hours, our cheeks cool from the fresh air, the spice of the meal lingering on our lips, our elbows propped on a table we shared with visitors from across the globe who were strangers just hours ago but now were topping up our glasses of wine as though we were old friends. 

We bundled up in all our layers to brave the wind and stepped onto the terrace. Somewhere between the coffee and the last glass of wine, the island had become draped with the perfect night sky - a speckled dome that made us forget Instagram and work and all the pressures of past and future. 

We fell asleep early, suddenly wiped by the excitement and all that our senses had experienced. I woke up in the middle of the night and smiled when I discovered that the electricity had been turned off (as it is solar-powered). I felt refreshed by the stillness of the night and of my mind.

I woke up to join the seagulls at 5am to welcome the sun. I have only caught a handful of sunrises in my life so far. As I'm not a morning person, witnessing sunsets is a much more realistic goal! But what a treat, a feast for the eyes and ears, as I stood there feeling totally undeserving of that miraculous view, watching as the seagulls loudly celebrated the promise of a brand new day. 

Duvetnor must know that fresh air and early sunrises make you hungry! To remedy this, they serve not one but two breakfasts! A light breakfast of fruits and fresh croissants is served at 6am, followed by a more substantial breakfast with eggs and meats at 8am. In between, and afterwards, you're free to enjoy the paths or laze around the lighthouse. I took the opportunity to return to "La Chaloupe" again, where I sat on the rocks for a while and watched the birds go about their morning. I always love to return to the spots that inspire me to see how they change with the changing light and changing tides, and this little gem of a place was no exception.  

When it came time to leave, to walk down that same ramp and say farewell to those views, I felt a pinch in my heart. I watched as the new set of six visitors disembarked, their faces looking around in awe as we had done. It was like coming out of a movie at the theater, wanting to exclaim, "It was so good!" but refraining so as not to spoil anything for them.

In fact, it may seem like I've shared a lot with you here, but I have been conscious not to spoil anything for you. The truth of the matter is, you must go and see - no, feel - this for yourself. Visit the Duvetnor website for all the information you need on Iles du Pot and Ile aux Lièvres. You can also follow them on Facebook or Instagram for updates.

If you do book a stay on these islands, here are 7 things you may want to pack:
- Your camera
- Your childish enthusiasm
- A battery pack (to charge your phone at night without electricity)
- Something to read 
- Hiking shoes 
- A windbreaker and/or hoodie
- Wine

I hope you enjoyed this virtual tour of a place that truly won my heart!

Have you been here or somewhere similar? Leave a comment! I would love to hear from you. 

Some experiences ​make you feel like a child again. 

Gazing up at the sky in wonder at the International Balloon Festival of St Jean sur Richelieu, I felt like I was six, with cotton candy on my fingers, a clip barely holding my messy sunkissed hair, a wide smile frozen on my face and a giddy fluttering sensation in my belly. What a wondrous thing, to be launched into the sky at dusk with only a general sense of direction, knowing full well that the winds could change at any moment, not knowing at all where or how exactly the landing would take place. 

That is the fate of some hundred hot air balloons of different colors, patterns and shapes that are sent into the sky with their passengers twice a day at this festival, at the mercy of the strength and direction of the winds. As the announcer explained to all of us gathered on site to watch the spectacular launch around 6pm, winds tend to be higher in speed at ground level than at high altitudes, and tend to drop as the sun dips in the sky when it sets. While they can send up balloon probes and measure the winds with fancy instruments, there still remains an element of uncertainty and surprise that the actual hot air balloons can only experience directly once high over our heads. 

It takes great skill and experience to inflate and man these balloons. Some of the special shaped balloons like animals or characters are much thicker in material and trickier to fill. It is astonishing to watch them come to life in a vast field as they slowly grow from folded up parachutes tucked inside little trucks until the flag is finally waved. An orange flag means they are testing the winds and will reach a decision about the flight path soon. A green flag means the balloons are ready for liftoff! The "pursuit" crews climb into their trucks to follow the balloons to wherever they land. And so the balloons are pulled and held and filled and fueled, until suddenly they glide up, up and away gracefully over hundreds of waving hands and shrieking voices aged 6 through 60. 

The announcer animates the take-off, introducing sponsors and presenting facts, all of which makes the experience even more captivating. 

And though you know they are gliding steadily through space, the balloons somehow look suspended in time, hanging like teardrops, like wishes, like dreams about to come true.

You look up, making a memory, recording the perfectly orchestrated scene of balloons, birds and the gentle breeze in the setting sun. You feel connected through an invisible portal to all those who gathered to witness hot air balloon flights in history, going all the way back to Paris in 1783. 

When the balloons are far on the horizon, there is still much fun to be had, with vast fair grounds, virtual reality demonstrations, food trucks, lounge areas and a live concert on a big stage. The park is full without being crowded, and everyone seems happy. I can't think of a better way to spend a mid-August evening. 

International travel is super exciting but also requires some preparation to ensure your experience is safe, hassle-free and inspiring. 

An important aspect of "traveling smart" is to devote some thought to how you will manage your money while you're abroad.

These tips may seem like common sense, but sometimes we get carried away with everything we have to do before our trip, and our departure date sneaks up on us without having had the time to deal with money matters.

Here are 13 money tips for your peace of mind while you travel internationally.

If you have to change money at an airport, it likely means you're rushed, unprepared and desperate. And those are precisely the ingredients that cook up the exorbitant rates that airport exchange offices will "offer" you! 

To understand how far your money will go and how much things actually cost, it helps to familiarize yourself with the local currency in advance. You can also download a quick currency converter app. Look up the exchange rate before you change your money so you know what to expect in return and know to feel alarmed by hidden commissions, transaction fees or wrong calculations. Stress, numbers, jet-leg, crowds and a foreign language can lead you to feel flustered and inattentive, so better to be as prepared as you can be. 

If you are forced to travel with a decent amount of cash, certainly don't carry it all in one place... and certainly not in your back pocket. This would easily be a pickpocket's dream and your nightmare! If traveling with someone, split the money up between you. If you have a secure place to leave it that is not ON you, that is a safer bet. If you have no choice but to carry it on you, be sure to hide it in different secure areas of your backpack, purse and/or on your person, so that it is not vulnerable to loss or theft in one shot. Some nifty items have been invented over the years to hide banknotes, so you can be creative as well as strategic!

Even if your trip is the spontaneous, "go with the flow" kind, be sure to have enough cash on you for your first few days abroad, as well as for emergencies. Research where you can get extra money in advance, but plan for the unexpected. 

When you exchange your money, ask for smaller denominations as a general rule. If you have a few large denominations, break them in reputable places where you are not in a rush or surrounded by a crowd (and be mindful of the change you get back). Smaller banknotes are also a good idea to stash in a safe place in case of emergencies. 

Even if you foresee paying cash almost everywhere you go, it's a good idea to have more than one bank card on you, in case one gets demagnetized, lost, stolen, frozen by your bank or swallowed up by an unfriendly ATM machine. 

Carry your bank cards separately to avoid losing them in one fell swoop if your wallet is lost or stolen. In case you don't have data or internet access, make sure you have the phone numbers of where to report your card lost or stolen, and that you have the information required by your bank to identify yourself and your account. 

Your bank probably charges a fee to withdraw from foreign ATMs. It's a good idea to know any special fees that may be incurred on your account before you travel. If you use your credit card to withdraw cash, note that it will charge you a cash advance fee as well as interest on the amount immediately, until you pay your card's balance in full. 

Notifying your bank / credit card company of your travel prior to your departure is a good idea to avoid their fraud department freezing your card as a precaution when they see frequent or large transactions being made abroad. Notify them of your dates and destinations so they know the irregular activity is not fraudulent. 

If you're planning on withdrawing cash abroad, be smart about when, where and how you do it. Choose an ATM that is not in a sketchy or poorly-lit location. Make sure to be discrete and strategic when divvying up the money you withdraw into your different "stash" areas, and opt for making the withdrawal on your way back to your accommodation rather than on your way out for the day, so that you are not carrying a ton of cash everywhere you go. 

Knowing what the country's banknotes and coins look like will facilitate your life when you're abroad, whether you're about to pay for something in a line-up or whether you want to double-check what you received as change. When money looks foreign to you, it is surprisingly easy to confuse similar-looking banknotes.

Using a secure internet connection (i.e., not the free public WiFi), make a point to periodically check your bank statements online. Create an entry in your calendar to remind yourself when your credit card is due, and take that opportunity to make sure there are no suspicious transactions on your account. Before notifying your bank of what you think might be a fraudulent transaction, take an extra moment to make sure it really was not something you purchased yourself - sometimes establishments come up under a different legal name on your statement. 

It's tempting to always pay with banknotes for the sake of ease and simplicity, especially to avoid counting coins when we're in a rush or in a crowded place. Unfortunately, that might mean you'll end up with a ton of coins that will have no value to you when you return home, because currency exchange places and banks rarely accept coins in return. One strategy would be to count your coins before you leave your accommodation and to organize them so you can easily pay for your coffee or fruit with a chunk of pre-counted change. 

Was this helpful? Got another money tip to share? Leave a comment below.
​I always love to hear from you!

Yearning for a trip to Italy soon?

You may be looking at awe-inspiring destinations like the Italian Riviera, the Amalfi coast or Tuscany, but have you considered a trip to Italy's idyllic heel instead?

In the southern region of Puglia and its Salento peninsula, your senses will be overwhelmed and delighted with sweeping coastlines, stunning beaches, labyrinthian old towns, savory local delicacies and memorable wines. You'll ease into a whole other rhythm of Italian life (forget the bustle of Milano and Rome!) and, if you do it right, you'll discover gems that many Italians have yet to explore. 

Italy's heel has a longer coastline than other regions of Italy's mainland, and is bordered by both the Adriatic Sea and the Ionian Sea. Sure, Puglia is home to well-known destinations like its capital Bari, the baroque city of Lecce nicknamed 'Florence of the South' and to the iconic town of Alberobello known for its conical trulli houses. But what makes the region unforgettable is all the places, treasures and feelings in between... and I am here to tell you about them!

In its whitewashed towns and enchanting countryside dotted with millions of olive trees, I promise you will be tempted to stay... or, at the very least, to make plans (almost immediately) to return. ​

I dare you to go to Polignano and tell me upon your return that this place did not tug on your heart. (Challenge accepted?)

Polignano is only about 30 minutes from Bari and easily reachable by train.
​
Polignano is the perfect setting for slow wandering and sea-gazing. Perched atop limestone cliffs overlooking deep blue waters, Polignano has several beautiful lookout points that will make your heart pound. Certainly don't miss the Balconata sul Mare. The town has a Greek feeling to its architecture and color palette. Take time to find the charming Vicolo della Poesia with a staircase featuring poetry by Bari writer "Guido Il Flâneur". In fact, if you are attentive to your surroundings, you'll find bits of his poetry on doors and walls throughout the old town. 

The beach itself (Cala Porto) is small and pebbly, but picturesque. Float on your back and watch the light change on the stone cliffs and its stacked houses. You can rent a bike from Polignano Made in Love and cycle to other nearby beaches and cute towns like San Vito. 

And, if you really want to make a memory, go for lunch (or a more formal supper) at the Grotta Palazzese - a restaurant tucked in a cave where you have water spilling in on both sides of its terrace. Quick tip: Be sure to dress adequately (no swimsuits) and warmly, as it can be cool and clammy in the cave, especially after you've been in the hot sun. Also be prepared to spend a LOT for the same "simple" (though extremely fresh) food and wine you've been inexpensively savoring all over Puglia. ​

Continuing further down the Adriatic coast, Monopoli is basically teleport distance from Polignano, not even 15 minutes away by train! 

If you love charming fishing towns and rugged beaches, spending time in Monopoli will do you good! In the morning and evening, enjoy the harbor, the small red lighthouse, the winding streets and the medieval walls surrounding the city. In the afternoon, grab your car or bike to explore nearby beaches, some of them more rugged than others: Cala Porta Vecchia, Cala Cozze, Porto Verde, Cala Paradiso, La Scaletta, Tre Buchi or Porto Marzano.

Remember that public beaches allow you to plop down your towel and umbrella freely on the sand or cliffs, whereas private beaches ("lido") will ask you to rent a spot for the day. 

Ostuni is nicknamed "The White City" and is incredibly gorgeous both from afar and within its winding, inclined streets. Stacked upon a hilltop, Ostuni keeps a watchful eye over the Adriatic and the vast olive groves below. If you love narrow alleyways, dead-ends that open up onto secret courtyards and secret gardens, pretty doors and windows, and whitewashed houses that look even paler against the blue of the Sun and Sea, then Ostuni will undoubtedly enchant you. Climb to the top to see the Duomo or head to the lookout on Corso Vittorio Emanuele II for panoramic views of the city.

A UNESCO world heritage site, it would be difficult to complete a Puglia itinerary without a stop in Alberobello. While these cone-shaped limestone "trulli" buildings are scattered throughout the region, the dense cluster of them in Alberobello is what brings visitors to this town. Today, the trulli have been converted into restaurants, souvenir shops and even accommodations. That's right - you can stay in a trullo overnight if that's something on your bucket list! 

Alberobello can feel overwhelmingly touristy, but it is worth seeing as it is quite unique. If you want to step away from the touristic center, explore the Rione Aia Piccola area. From there, you could also enjoy views over Alberobello. 

If you visited Polignano and Ostuni first, you may have given either of them the title of "prettiest town in Puglia". And then you come to Locorotondo, and suddenly you're tempted to reassign the title! 

Quiet and slow, Locorotondo is the perfect place to spend a few hours taking a mindful stroll, taking in the vista of the surrounding countryside, and savoring an outdoor lunch with a glass of their renowned sparking white wine at one of the welcoming trattorie in the old town. 

Larger and busier than its neighboring villages, Martina Franca is another town in the Valle d'Itria that is definitely worth your time. Surrounded by fortifications and several preserved Renaissance and Baroque gates, Martina Franca's elegant architecture, pretty streets and wide squares will inspire you.

​Look up, look around and look back to take in all the beautiful balconies, archways and shutters. Watch and listen to locals as they go about their day. Let your eyes flit over the symphony of Baroque details of the Basilica di S. Martino and the Chiesa di San Domenico. 

Every summer, Martina Franca hosts the Festival della Valle d'Itria opera festival. 

No trip to Puglia is complete without visiting its "big city". Despite its size and elegance, Lecce is laid-back and low-key, perfect for exploring and experiencing at a relaxed pace. Strolling its golden streets, you'll notice that they are plenty of sights to take in, plenty of ornate baroque details to swoon over. You'll encounter several blasts from the past with roman ruins, columns, noteworthy museums and gorgeous city gates around Lecce's old town. Outside the old town's cobblestone lanes, you can unwind in one of the city's spacious parks. There is no shortage of interesting places to eat and drink in Lecce - stay tuned on the blog for a local's recommendations! 

It is easy to fall in love with Otranto and want to extend your stay. The large waterfront piazza is a beautiful place to start and end your day. The main city beach is not far to the left of it, but there is also a wonderful place to swim and sunbathe (if you don't mind putting your towel down on rocks or concrete instead of sand) closer to the port. The irregular-shaped Castello and its moat are worth visiting, and provide stunning views over old seafront town. The Cathedral (Santa Maria Annunziata) is famous for its "Tree of Life" mosaic floor, and the Chiesa di San Pietro is a gorgeous little church with Byzantine frescoes. Climb up for breathtaking views of the sunset before you head for supper. After dark, Otranto comes alive with families strolling the promenade until late. 

A highlight of my Salento trip was the nearby beach "Baia dei Turchi", which I still dream of on long winter days. 

Santa Cesarea is not only a beautiful coastal town but most notably home to large thermal baths with healing waters stemming from four grottoes and drawing visitors from all over Italy and beyond. 

If you love the idea of standing on the southeastern most tip of Italy, where the waters of two seas meet and mingle (Adriatic and Ionian), then a trip down to Santa Maria di Leuca is necessary!

The iconic lighthouse stands next to the Basilica that was built on the site of a Roman temple. 

Driving down the coast (from Lecce or Otranto) to Santa Maria di Leuca gives you the opportunity to stop in picturesque places like Castro, Porto Tricase or Porto Ciolo. On the Ionian coast, don't miss the crystal clear waters of Spiaggia di Pescoluse. 

The name "Gallipoli" originates from the Greek "Kallipolis" for "beautiful city". And, as you will undoubtedly notice immediately upon arrival, the city certainly lives up to its name!

Gallipoli is a perfect base for exploring the western coast of Italy's heel. The city center is atmospheric and authentic, large enough so you can wander quite a while through its narrow streets or along its seafront perimeter. Brace yourself for ferocious winds! Visit the Castle and head to the nearby fresh fish market for scents and tastes that will linger with you long after you've left. 

​Its city beach is beautiful and clean, with a gentle curve that makes you feel as though you've stepped right up to the threshold of a painting hanging framed in front of you. Return at sunset to fall in love with the sky and the tide. 

Gallipoli is also close to other awe-inspiring beaches along the coast, such as Baia Verde or Punta della Suina with its dunes and wild greenery.

West of Lecce, on the Ionian side between Taranto and Gallipoli is a paradise called Porto Cesareo. I hope you're a fan of loose itineraries that leave room for unexpected changes, because the beach may hold you hostage. We extended our stay in Porto Cesareo (as we had also done in Polignano and Otranto) and were put up by a sweet local couple because all the b&bs were already booked for the night!

The long, sandy, shallow beaches with their dunes, islets and reefs are a marine protected area. Head north to Torre Lapillo, a favorite among locals. For more secluded stretches of beach (especially early in the mornings) visit Punta Prosciutto.  

Directly across from Porto Cesareo, you'll find a tiny island called Isola dei Conigli (rabbit island). You can take a boat trip there and explore the island's cypress, pine and acacia trees. There is also a public beach on the island. 

Just south of Porto Cesareo lies the National park of Porto Selvaggio, a jagged stretch of coastline between three towers (Torre dell'Alto, Torre Uluzzo and Torre Inserraglio) and a beach nestled in a rocky cove. The contrast between the vivid green cliffs and deep blue sea is a feast for the eyes. If traveling there by car, you park on the road and walk the rest of the way, through the dense forest. The protected area is home to many wild animals, different species of birds and varieties of trees. Underwater and exposed caves are of archaeological and paleontological importance due to the remains that have been uncovered. If you love nature, plan a daytrip to this stunning area. 

So you've planned your next trip and chosen a destination that calls to you! 

Here are 8 quick travel tips to make it a smooth and enjoyable trip that you'll remember long after you return home. 

Often, the best discoveries are those made when you least expect it (certainly not while you're rushing or stressed).

​It's such a great feeling to skip a massive line!

You'll learn more about local life if you shop and prepare your food rather than always eating out. You'll save some money too!

​If you should ever lose your documents, having a copy can speed up replacing them, especially since we tend not to know our card numbers or other info by heart.

​In case one pair gives your feet a hard time. Painful feet can be a real nuisance when traveling. Love your feet because they take you places!

If your battery dies and you don't have access to a charger on the go, these inexpensive packs can save you and get you to the end of your day.  

​Remember that a place is not your personal playground. Respect the locals, nature, architecture, language, culture and any rules of the place you're visiting. 

I have always loved taking long exploratory walks around urban neighborhoods, no matter whether I have traveled to a faraway place or I am happily acting like a tourist in my own city. I don't necessarily always plan to collect photos, but they seem to be inevitable. The simple act of moving, observing and being in the moment fuels my creativity.

Knowing this, I have gotten into the habit of scheduling a seasonal "staycation" -- a mini vacation (sometimes just a day or two, sometimes a whole week) in my own city of Montreal, where I devote time to exploring different areas and appreciating how they change with the seasons. 

In the mood to stretch my legs and to spend a little time outdoors with my camera, I signed up for one of the Photowalk Montreal group itineraries, organized by graphic artist and photographer Elodie Le Pape.

Every month or so, a new itinerary is proposed to explore a different facet of Montreal. Essentially, you meet up with a group of people on a Saturday and take a leisurely 2-hour walk together, snapping photos of whatever inspires you.

When I met up with about 24 strangers at metro Mont-Royal for that day's "Colors of the Plateau and Village" itinerary, I felt a bit outside my comfort zone. For me, photography is usually a solitary act. It is how I unwind, how I practice mindfulness, how I pay attention to my posture, and how I reflect on my way of seeing and feeling things in this world. When I travel, I usually carve out time to walk around with my camera on my own. If I'm in a group, I make mental notes of where to return to when I have more time to observe and experiment. Being such a solo photographer, I had no idea how it would feel for me to be part of a large group of photography-lovers. Would I keep the pace and find inspiration without feeling pressured? Would there be a lot of discussion and comparison? Would be end up with extremely similar photos?

What I quickly noticed when we set out on our photowalk was that the atmosphere was pleasantly informal and relaxed, such that you could make the experience whatever you wanted it to be. For this group, it doesn't matter if you're a beginner or an expert, if you have a cell phone or fancy gear, or if you simply feel like going for a stroll (thus totally ditching the "photo" part of a "photowalk"). You can take your time (as long as you don't lose the group), and be as talkative or as quietly focused as you wish. ​If city photography is not your thing, you are totally free to take portrait photos with a buddy, while scouting out interesting backdrops for future photoshoots. 

I admit that it was still an odd sight to watch 25 people silently fill a narrow street and spread out into different directions like ants infiltrating a space! Some photographers were much more assertive than I was, climbing residents' staircases for better views, getting really up close and personal with their subjects. 

I stayed true to my usual style -- looking for unique compositions and details that highlight colors, textures and that celebrate the ordinary. I appreciated that there was room for every type of photographer, and that the photos would reflect our individual styles, in the end.

The highlight of the photowalk was to discover a couple of charming streets that I had not yet explored. I was so glad to have done something outside of my creative comfort zone. It was a refreshing exercise to try something new but to still find my unique perspective and style within that new experience. 

Since the photowalk, I have enjoyed a few leisurely walks on the Plateau, Little Italy and around the Parc Olympique, taking in the miracles of spring. It always astonishes me how a little bit of time outside, away from my screen and phone, can refresh my mind and spirit. (Though, between you and me, it can be a little overwhelming to come home to hundreds of new images to sort and process!) 

I am often asked for advice for beginner photographers, and I almost always say this: take long walks and practice. Whether you join an organized photowalk for a structured itinerary, or you just weave in and out of streets on a whim, you are sure to find inspiration if you are open to it. Once something makes you slow your step, capture it in different ways -- different angles and compositions will tell a different story, and different camera settings will teach you about light. Finally, always look with your eyes first. Especially when the goal of the walk is to take pictures, it's easy to become a hurried collector and snap, snap, snap. Slow down, relax your shoulders, look at the scene and pay attention to how it makes you feel. What draws your eye naturally? Try to recreate that with your lens.

But, most of all: have fun. No matter how your photos turn out, at least you've taken a nice walk through town!

This fall, I vowed to go on weekly photo-walks through Montreal neighborhoods to really take in the fiery colors before they faded into a long, unrelenting winter. Despite a very busy schedule, pushing myself to take my camera out for a walk helped renew my energy, creativity and courage (because many of my projects are in uncharted territories for me right now!)

The residential streets in the Plateau Mont-Royal and Hochelaga-Maisonneuve neighborhoods held beautiful treasures, no matter how grey a day it was. 

I never tire of our walk-up staircases, contrasts between adjacent homes, how nature and wrought-iron get tangled into one, and the secret universes tucked away in back alleys. 

On the day I chose to visit Parc Lafontaine, the sun created a symphony of color. The squirrels and ducks seemed lighthearted, basking in light and tapestries of fallen leaves. The main aisle coming in from the entrance on Rachel Street (corner Calixa Lavallée) was almost regal. A quiet weekday mid-morning, only my footsteps could be heard crashing through the ankle-deep row of leaves. Squirrels were pouncing and diving from benches all around me, playful and friendly. Leaves were falling all around me, getting caught in my long hair or on the sleeves of my wooly sweater. It was magical, and before I knew it, I had spent three hours in the park. 

I also took some time to stroll through the campus of my alma mater McGill University. If you step off the main paths, you'll find little pockets of color and peace to read, think or - in my case - take pictures. 

These are just a few of the picturesque corners of Montreal in autumn. Our city boasts a ton of charming areas and cozy cafes to discover. Making it a habit to take a short walk and to notice the beauty of this season does the mind and body good. 

Do you like to take walks in the fall? What is your favorite corner in Montreal?

From my heart to yours.

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