staring at the sea

I was born a beach girl. Westhampton Beach that is. I have always thought of the journey of life as a walk along the beach, the setting and rising sun marking the passing of time. And forever near a beach I would like to remain. Thankfully, my Italian is a boy of the Mediterranean. Very often we travel to his sea. Monterosso al Mare. Incidentally, the only one of the Cinque Terre with beaches.

With the many tourists in town as well as sun-seeking Milanese, safer to hide beneath an unbrella.

These last summer days I am exploring the wild and less inhabited Levanto beaches. Molto bello!

Staring at the sea I reflect upon the many beaches I have walked thus far in my life. And have come up with my top 5. (Not including my local Long Island beach, those of Monterosso, and the turquoise waters of Corsica.)

1. The 17 barely inhabited beaches of Fernando de Noronha, Brazil

2. The many remote beaches of the Fourni Islands, Greece

3. The beach island of Gili Trawangan, Indonesia

4. The elite sands of Jose Ignacio, Uruguay

5. The beaches of Tulum, Mexico

The next 5 remain to be discovered…

Loire by bike

Last weekend we set off to explore the Loire Valley. A regal French landscape rich in history and architectural splendors. What better way to breath the royal air and discover the hidden treasures and grand Châteaux than by bike? Our journey began in Blois, a quick 2 hour TGV ride from Paris. A charming city to call home for a few days. With some of the best French food I have ever tasted. Not to mention how welcoming and friendly the people are. (Note to self: leave Paris more often!)

Our journey began beneath an overcast sky, over the bridge and into the colors of the countryside.

Occasionally we passed a small village with barely a soul in sight.

We continued on the path into the woods… almost 25 kilometers behind us.

And there it was, looming in the distance. One of the grandest structures of all.

The Châteaux de Chambord. This sight alone made the journey by bike worth it.

Here we stayed to explore the interior of this Franco-Italian masterpiece. In awe.

Needless to say (though my untrained muscles were in denial), the journey was only half complete.

We followed the Loire river back. Passing a private châteaux or two along the way.

The late afternoon sun provided strength for the remaining 10 kilometers.

Until the bridge was again in sight. Magnificent in it’s reflection.

A total of 45 kilometers later, we returned to Blois filled with the energy of accomplishment. Deserving of a feast and a glass or two of wine. And ready to plan the bike route for day two…

Click here to plan your own Loire by bike adventure. Enjoy the ride!

for the love of August

August in Paris. It’s the time of year that those who live in this vibrant city come to love, or more commonly, leave. If you are one of the lucky few to experience this annual (and literal) ‘closing shop’ of Paris, give in to the stillness and enjoy. How exactly? Here are a few ideas.

1. Travel by bike. Velibing is one of my favorite modes of transport along Paris’ winding paths. With fewer cars on the roads, have no fear!

2. Now is the perfect time to indulge in a fine dining experience. (Given that your restaurant of choice is open). Here’s a reputable list to try.

3. The famous Paris Plage. (Who needs St Tropez?) Worth at least a stop for a game of Pétanque.

4. If you crave some quality alone time, visit the hidden gardens scattered all around Paris. An ideal place to escape with a good book.

5. August is a perfect time to play the role of tourist, regardless if you live in Paris or not. Hop on the batobus and let the fun begin! You can almost see Paris in a day.

6. Fancy an art fix? You’re in the right city, with over 140 museums. Here’s a list by arrondissement. To avoid long lines, the museum pass is not a bad idea.

7. Have you been craving to explore another neighborhood? Now is the time. (I recommend ‘Little Africa‘ in the 18eme.)

8. For those faced with the challenge of learning French, the city is your school. Particularly in August. Find an open cafe, sit at the bar and the lessons begin!

9. To escape those seldom hot but often overcast nights, the cinema, particularly in mid-August is filled with many a ‘must-see’. If weather permits, the Open Air Cinema at Parc de la Villette is even better. (I plan to be there on the 18th for Woody Allen’s Manhattan.)

10. If you have done all of the above and still crave a little adventure, the TGV trains will not disappoint. For a scenic getaway, take a trip to Honfleur or even closer, the gardens of Giverny. Let’s not forget wine tasting in the Loire Valley (my upcoming August adventure).

Am I missing anything?

The Dream Life of Chloe Lodge

When I first met Chloe Lodge, I sensed a curiosity in her gaze, and a warmth in her demeanor. When I found out she was studying to become a photographer, my interest grew. (Having worked as a Print Producer in the advertising world for over a decade, I grew to know and admire many visual thinkers, and have developed a love for photography.) With undeniable fervor, Chloe told me about the Masters Programme she was completing in Paris, and her final project, documenting ‘Expat Women in a Foreign Land’: Paris. (And would I want to participate? Bien Sur!) So, how did Chloe arrive to pursue her dreams, in Paris? Her path is a unique and well-traveled one.

It still surprises me, how quickly life can change. If a year ago, someone said to me that I would be at the beginning of a new career in photography, having studied in Paris and been exhibited at the Rencontres dʼArles I would never have believed them. I am delighted to say this is exactly what has happened.

Photography has been a passion of mine since I was a little girl. When asked as a child ʻwhat do you want to become?ʼ for me, aged 7, my answer was always ʻI want to be a National Geographic Photographer.ʼ At fifteen I showed my photographs to my art teacher who said ʻthese are nice pictures but they are holiday snaps. To be a photographer you have to make the everyday appear extra-ordinary and more interesting than its perception.ʼ I had little, or no idea what she meant and felt discouraged.

After a brief spell at Art College studying sculpture, I achieved a BA Honours degree in Art History. Not having a clue what to do with a qualification such as this I fell into the city life of London, initially working in Event Management, then momentarily for the big boys at Goldman Sachs on Fleet Street. However, the creative Chloe gasped for breath inside everyday, so when a slightly unusual opportunity presented itself to me, I grabbed it with both hands. Working alongside Bear Grylls was a fascinating and all-encompassing job. Regardless, my role was one I could tweak and mould how I wanted. It was about organisation, PR, event management and with a little design thrown in. During a particularly intense period manning the 24-hour UK base of Bearʼs 2003 Trans-Atlantic Arctic Expedition I realised that it was about time I stopped sitting behind a desk organising adventures for others and see the world for myself.

My London flat went on the market, and I booked myself a round-the-world ticket. I planned on three months away but ended up being away almost three years. In that time I travelled across Russia, Mongolia and China on the Trans-Siberian, I spent four months backpacking in South-East Asia and finally ʻsettledʼ in New Zealand for almost two and a half years.

The back streets of Valletta, Malta. May 2011

The age of digital photography was upon us and, small compact in hand, I rediscovered my love of photography – capturing the beauty in the everyday. The landscape, culture and texture of life in the ʻLand of the Long White Cloudʼ awoke the softly doozing hunger for the photographic image from inside me. Whilst down-under, I not only fell in love with my photography again, I fell in love with the very wonderful James.

This was almost five years ago, and for reasons unknown to us, we then ended up in England. The dream of any little girl came true and James proposed. It was a double whammy because he also agreed to my fantasy of a small, intimate wedding on an Italian hillside, then the intense organisation began. It was all going to plan, until devastation hit. It was a Saturday afternoon, exactly three months to the day before our wedding, that I received the phone call. My dear and much-loved Mum, had died overnight in her sleep. Aged just 58, it was sudden, unexpected and shattered my world from the core.

Unwillingly but essentially I had to shift the wedding plans to funeral plans, desperately trying to ingest the utter shock of what had happened. We had to decide quickly whether to go ahead with our Italian wedding plans, or not. We decided whenever we were to get married after that she wouldnʼt physically be there: getting ready on the day, smiling at me with pride as I said my vows, laughing with me every step of the way. But she had been part of the planning THIS day, so we had to move forward.

Springtime in Paris, the Eiffel Tower. March 2011

Is it possible for light come from the darkness of utter tragedy? Sitting in the shade of a palm tree on our honeymoon, a realisation slowly dawned on me that I might now have the opportunity to follow that childhood dream of mine. I could go back to school to study photography. After much research and a swift application, I received a confirmation from a school in Paris to study Professional Photography starting September 2010.

Still fragile and in shock from the previous six months, I wondered if it was the right timing for me. Being in my mid-thirties, it felt like it was ʻnow or neverʼ. I had visited Paris as an art student, spending many happy hours in the Louvre and Musee DʼOrsay, and knew Iʼd always loved it as a city and so, swallowed hard and took the plunge.

As I began my studies I felt that the studio was where I wanted to be, ʻmakingʼ pictures and not ʻtakingʼ them. However, as my first semester journey of personal and creative exploration ventured on I began feeling more and more that the outside world is where I wanted to be. My interest has always been in people, within the context of their lives. Understanding how things change and evolve for them over time. I consider myself a social observer and a story teller, and it’s for this reason documentary and portrait photography is the area in which I love to work. Photography is not purely the creative action of taking a picture, it’s about people and their stories, their lives.

Kasia Dietz, from the portrait series 'Modern Women at Home in a Foreign Land' April, 2011

Ten challenging, soul-searching but fantastic months later, I have achieved a National Diploma with Honours, and finished the Masters Programme. Following our final diploma show in May, two out of 68 students were selected to be part of the 26 year celebration exhibition of our school at the Rencontres dʼArles… and my work was one of them. It was a complete surprise, but a fantastic honour so soon after graduating. The same exhibition will be shown in November, during Paris Photo Month, at the Speos Gallery, Paris. A city at the nucleus of the photography world. It feels like the beginning of something very wonderful… itʼs not the start of a new chapter, itʼs the start of a whole new book. A book I have always dreamt of starting, and now I am.

The Residence of the US Ambassador to France, Paris. April 2011 (selected for Rencontres d'Arles)

Congratulations and best of luck to you Chloe, as your ‘dream life’ of visual story telling continues!

Chloe Lodge Photography, will be exhibited at the Speos Gallery, 75011 Paris from November 8th – December 31st 2011. You can also follow Chloe Lodge on facebook as her life soon takes her from Paris to Asia. (Once the traveler always the traveler!)

ʻModern Women at Home in a Foreign Landʼ captures todayʼs Anglophone women making lives for themselves in a country where the culture, language and tradition is often very different to their own. Each following their own dream, in so many different ways. Her self- published book is available for viewing via Blurb.com

the smallest island

Our Greek island-hopping adventures began in Santorini, the most touristic (and one of the most beautiful) islands in the Cyclades. From there a quick boat ride to Folegrandros, much less touristic, but not exactly undiscovered. Onwards to the more remote Fourni Islands. Our last stop on what became our gradual ‘escape from civilization’, was the smallest Greek Island. Upon hearing about this unknown island from a well traveled Italian couple, both my Italian and I were intrigued. Several days, three islands and four boats later, we arrived to Marathi.

Could there be a place more removed from the world than Marathi? I imagined not. The population consists of two families who own the three tavernas. We decided to stay in the more upscale of the three, it was our honeymoon after all. Meanwhile, I was determined to find out as much as I could about the life and history of the island. Did I succeed in our three day visit? Not so well. I learned the most from a Polish waitress who worked for the pirate. Yes, there did live a pirate on the island, one of the three inhabitants in the winter season. The secrets of Marathi will remain buried.

In what felt like the middle of nowhere, we were undoubtedly detached from all manners of distractions. Aside from an occasional imposing yacht, an island in itself, docking in the neighboring waters. And then there was one surprising night of Greek music and dancing in our taverna… who knew we were on a private party island? The greatest calm was found at the old settlement, high on a hill above the harbour, once home to a dozen or so inhabitants before WWII.

What went on in this space so many years ago?

Unfortunately the lonely wild goat did not prove a helpful tour guide.

Only the church stands proudly intact at it’s vantage point.

It was here that we watched our last Greek sunset. Perhaps the most magical of all.

Until the next time.

Islands undiscovered

My Italian was eager to explore the great unknown, while I would have been more than happy to remain in the Cyclades. I am not one to stifle anyone’s dreams, so we journeyed onwards. A very rough sea rocked us to Mykonos where we spent the afternoon wandering amidst the white maze, until our early morning boat to the little known archipelago called the Fourni Islands.

Upon reaching this former pirate’s lair we immediately noticed how removed it was from the world. There were only a handful of other tourists, (all of whom we soon met), and complete stillness. With a population of under 1,500, this is considered ‘real Greece’. Certainly life has not changed here in decades. Did this quietude provide the charm? Perhaps. Though I was not yet impressed. We settled into the only ‘luxury’ hotel on the island and soon set out to explore. By foot, taxi (though very often he was nowhere to be found) and motorbike. Car rentals had yet to make their way to the island. What did we find? A landscape so replete with natural beauty that it’s difficult even to describe. This is why the Fourni Islands are considered a gem hidden in the Aegean.

There was barely a soul on the road, the heavy winds, and goats being our only companions.

We made our way from one tranquil beach to another. Days were lost.

Perhaps not so high on the list of honeymoon destinations, Fourni turned out to be undeniably romantic. Secluded beaches, the best (and most inexpensive) seafood, often eaten beneath the shade of a single tree, cooked by a local woman named Maria. (Leave it to my Italian, for this romantic interlude I give him all the credit.)

After exploring as much as was possible, the rough seas subsided, we bid farewell to the locals and fellow pioneers, and set out to continue our journey. In search of islands still more remote…

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