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Sitting at the flower market in Jaipur, India It is 5:30 AM, and I am in the back of an Uber in Jaipur, India. We have left the main road and are working our way through the neighborhoods. My eyes are wide open as I soak it all in, and I am on high alert as I travel this morning alone. The car pulls to a stop, and it is pitch black. Although I have been tracking our route on Google Maps as we go along the way, I get out of the car and really can't see anything. I can hear the unmistakable sound of the Muslim call to prayer in the early morning and catch a glimpse of bicycles in the distance. "Ok, I see bikes," I think to myself. I must be in the right place. A man approaches me, introduces himself as Khushal, and welcomes me over. He brings me a folding chair and asks me to sit as he continues to get ready. I look around the desolate and dark street and ask myself, "What on Earth am I doing? Am I too adventurous of a traveler for my own good?" As an avid fan of bike tours, I have enjoyed them worldwide. From Tokyo to Montreal, Paris to Mexico City, I find that a bike tour is the best way to see a city. This particular morning, I am doing a bike tour of Jaipur, India. I expect it to be a typical bike tour: I will visit the landmarks and hear the history and stories behind the location, all while pedaling through the city. A trio of Japanese women join me, and I am relieved to have company in the dark hour of the early morning. After testing our bikes, we illuminate the handlebar lights and start. I really can't see anything, and I have no idea what the pavement looks like to navigate rocks, pebbles, or other hazards. I decided to stick to my guide, Himmat, like glue, and I was immediately behind him. I can use him to determine where to go if he isn't hitting anything. We first stop to feed local cows. In the Hindu culture, cows are considered sacred. We learn that every part of the cow is used for society, including the urine to cure a fever and the dung to plaster and insulate the walls. We continue to Hawa Mahal, the Wind Palace, and the bridge that terminates at the Prince Albert Hall Museum. The bridge is closed to vehicular traffic in the early morning hours for recreation, and we can ride freely without navigating the chaotic traffic scene of Jaipur. I always say that the best way to understand a community is to find and visit a market. We parked our bikes and walked through two food markets, where primarily women sell vegetables from the rural countryside. We also visited the flower market. This was fascinating because men and women were seated on the ground, creating incredibly gorgeous wedding floral arrangements. If you have seen any media about Indian weddings, you will know they are quite an event. Brides go to the floral market with their pictures and Pinterest boards and place orders for the workers seated on the ground. I was able to sit with the flowers in the market, and getting such an authentic insight into the daily life of a community was indeed an unbelievable experience. However, I would say that the highlight of the bike tour was biking at Govind Dev Ji Temple. This Hindu temple is considered the most significant and sacred to its devotees. Each morning, people congregate for a morning prayer of ritual and chanting. I couldn't believe we were encouraged and embraced to join this daily ritual. The energy was indescribable, and although I didn't necessarily understand what they were praying to or for, the beautiful nature of the moment is one I will always cherish. This wasn't just any bike tour. We were getting an up-close and personal experience of the daily life of a Jaipur citizen. The quest to 100 countries is entirely about exploring the globe, meeting new people, and understanding a culture different from my own. I was disappointed to leave the morning ritual so soon, but this is a short, high-energy, early morning event. The attendees needed to start their day. The bike tour ended with breakfast at some local street food stalls. After my experience in Stone Town, Zanzibar, I had sworn off all street food for all eternity. My tour companions were three Japanese women currently living in Chennai, India. When our exceptional guide, Himmat, shared that we would enjoy samosa kachori and jalebi, the three women were excitedly smiling and cheering. I determined that if, as non-locals, they were willing to indulge, then I could do it. I can't say enough about Himmat, Shivani, Himanshu, and Aman with Le Tour de India . Their pride in Jaipur was infectious. Despite the intense, chaotic scenes of the roads in Jaipur, I surprisingly felt extremely safe riding a bike across the city. When I first went down that dark and desolate road, I thought I was embarking on a bike tour that was typical around the world. Instead, I was treated to an incredibly authentic cultural experience that offered a glimpse into the daily life of a person living in Jaipur. That kind of experience is priceless. My mission to find the positive stories in India was successful!

A woman bathes in the Ganges at dawn, her lit floating candle a prayer to the river. Varanasi – Captivating Chaos “Varanasi is older than history, older than tradition, even older than legend, and looks twice as old as all of them put together.” —Mark Twain Planning an itinerary for India is daunting. The country is vast—more like a continent than a nation—where each state could be its own country, with its own food, customs, and identity. The options are overwhelming, and narrowing down where to go felt impossible. But the moment I read about Varanasi, I knew. For me, travel isn’t about chasing luxury or glamour, although who are we kidding? Of course I do appreciate it!  It’s about immersing myself in the raw, the real—the places where culture is authentic, where life unfolds unfiltered. And Varanasi, the sacred city on the banks of the Ganges, promised just that. Varanasi is to Hindus what Mecca is to Muslims. The locals claim it to be the oldest living city in the world. A bit of fact checking denounced this claim, but it certainly is in the conversation as one of the world's oldest communities.   Regardless, its history is ancient, its spiritual significance undeniable. Pilgrims come seeking enlightenment, hoping to break free from the cycle of reincarnation. Here, the faithful bathe in the Ganges at dawn, light floating candles as prayer offerings to the river, and cremate their loved ones along its banks, scattering their ashes into the sacred waters. It is mesmerizing. I didn’t understand everything I witnessed, and I can attest I didn't agree with much.  I absolutely loved it yet didn't like it --- if that is possible to even make sense. Each morning, just before sunrise, the ritual of Subah-e-Banaras unfolds at Assi Ghat. This aarti, is a spiritual gathering including Vedic chanting and soulful devotional music. It is a sight to behold and incredible to experience. Yet, as if Varanasi weren’t intense enough on its own, my visit coincided with Mahakumbh 2025 . Held every twelve years, this was the first in 144 years of its kind, a 12 squared if you will.  It is one of the largest spiritual gatherings on the planet. Millions arrived in search of divine connection, some seeking moksha—ultimate liberation. The ghats were lined with sadhus , the holy men of India, their naked bodies covered in ash. They sit for days, burning incense, some smoking hash, and offer prayers for anyone needing guidance. It was a spectacle of faith and frenzy, a collision of devotion and disorder. Millions of people, gathering and submerging in the shallow banks of the sacred Ganges.  There are hands gathered together, raised in prayer and of course snapping selfies to capture this auspicious moment.  It is a display of faith one can't quite describe, and the smell of smoke, frying samosas and human excrement chokes you. This city—this festival—was captivating chaos. The Ganges carries it all away: sins, prayers, plastic vessels with candles and flowers. The thought of what this sacred devotion is doing to our planet haunts me. Mahakumbh is part pilgrimage, part festival, and entirely unlike anything I will ever experience. I’m still processing everything I saw—the poverty, the nakedness, the globe harming pollution. But beyond the extremes, what lingers most is the unshakable conviction of the people who come here. The sheer, unwavering belief in their religion and in one another is beautiful. Despite the crowds and differences in culture, I not only felt completely safe, but oddly welcomed to observe, witness, and photograph their spirituality.  My curiousity in their society was matched with the same curiosity with me.  I felt, at times, like a bit of an Indian sensation as people would line up to take a photo with me.  This mutual curiousity supports my belief that people around the world are inherently good and want the best. My visit to Varanasi, observing a sunrise aarti, and seeing the chaos of Mahakumbh made it one of the most unforgettable experiences of my journey to 100 countries.  I may not return to India, but India will stay with me.

Golden hour at the Taj Mahal—simply breathtaking. ✨🕌 Ordinarily, when I start my travel adventures before sunrise, I find myself completely alone. But on this particular morning, as I waited in the lobby of my hotel in Agra, India, I was surrounded by a very different scene. Tour groups, easily identifiable by their name badges, gathered in clusters, making polite small talk before boarding their coach buses—ready to experience the Taj Mahal en masse. For my trip to India, I planned everything independently. No buses, no tour groups—just my own schedule, my own pace. To be perfectly honest, I was quite proud of this accomplishment, given that India is notoriously challenging to navigate as an independent traveler. From securing an e-visa to booking train tickets, planning this trip was no small feat. That morning, as I watched large groups shuffle about, I felt immense gratitude for my freedom. I was headed to the Taj Mahal entirely on my own terms. However, traveling independently doesn’t mean traveling in isolation. As a photographer, I knew that experiencing the Taj Mahal at sunrise was non-negotiable. To make the most of it, I arranged for a local photographer, Shana Akhtar, to be my guide. Right on schedule, Shana met me in the hotel lobby, and off we went. There are many destinations where I can confidently venture out alone. But as a solo female traveler heading to one of the world’s most famous landmarks before dawn, I knew having a local companion was the right call. Beyond his photographic expertise, Shana provided valuable insight and a reassuring presence. As much as I’d love to say that sunrise at the Taj Mahal is a hidden gem, the reality is well documented: it’s the best time to witness the monument’s ethereal beauty. In the early morning light, the marble seems to change color before your eyes. We arrived before sunrise, along with several thousand other international visitors. True to Indian security protocols, men and women queued separately, and though I had just met Shana, I was relieved to reunite with him once we passed through security. There’s no way to adequately describe the moment you turn the corner from the west gate, step through the grand Darwaza-i-Rouza, and see the Taj Mahal for the first time. It is simply majestic. People—myself included—stop dead in their tracks, instinctively raising their cameras to capture the awe-inspiring view. The cell phone in the bottom right says it all—people freeze, mid-step, caught between disbelief and wonder. I did, too. As a solo female traveler, having Shana as a guide was a godsend. As a photographer, it was a brilliant decision. Despite the thousands of visitors clamoring for the perfect sunrise shot, Shana expertly navigated me to key vantage points before the crowds descended. While I love capturing the world through my lens, I despise having random tourists cluttering my shots. Sure, artificial intelligence can now remove unwanted objects (read: unknown people) from photos, but I prefer to get the shot right from the start. Beyond photography, my time with Shana enriched my understanding of the Taj Mahal’s history and significance. His expertise and kindness made the experience unforgettable. When I returned later that afternoon, I explored the grounds with newfound confidence—like a pro. Heading to The Taj Mahal, and want to connect with Shana Akhtar? You can find him on Instagram @magico_shaan.

Travel is addictive—the more I explore, the more I crave new destinations. Every journey imprints itself on my perspective, shaping my understanding of the world and fueling my desire to see more. The faithful bathe in the Ganges at dawn Travel goes beyond simply visiting new places—it reshapes who you are. Every journey reveals new facets of your identity and creates bonds with others through shared experiences. In essence, travel broadens your horizons, sparks creativity, and transforms each individual into a storyteller whose unique narrative enriches human life's diverse, global tapestry. Nothing supports this more than my recent trip to India.  It was a fantastic experience where I was welcomed to join morning prayer at the Govind Dev Ji Hindu temple, sit among the flowers at Jaipur's famed flower market, gaze at men and women taking a sacred dip in the Ganges River, and watch the Holy Men, the sadhus, at Mahakumbh offer guidance to the devoted as they sit naked along the banks of the Ganges. Although it may sound voyeuristic, the Hindus I met were delighted to welcome me to observe and photograph their rituals.  They are proud of their lives and spirituality, guiding them on their pilgrimage to the holiest of cities, Varanasi. However, visiting developing countries is challenging and not for the faint of heart.  Not every moment was beautiful, and my camera did not capture the most haunting images I saw. Before arriving in Varanasi, I received an email that the hotel I was staying at would arrange a water taxi for arrival.  The cost was roughly 50 USD.  50 dollars?  I can certainly get to the hotel from the train station for less than 50 dollars!  One of the benefits of exploring developing nations is that most costs are substantially less. Departing the train station, I hired a taxi to take me to the Brij Rama Hotel.  This was one of the only times I encountered someone who couldn't understand English.  I showed him the location on a map, and I could tell by his body language that he didn't know where it was.  Always grateful for Google Translate, he indicated he could take me to a specific point but no farther as his taxi couldn't travel past a certain location.  However, he would be able to arrange travel farther.  Perfect!  I jumped into the cab, and off we went. Varanasi had the same level of frenetic pace as Jaipur and Agra.  It is a chaotic symphony of motion, where the blare of horns replaces turn signals, and right-of-way is determined more by confidence and less by convention. I traveled with motorcycles, rickshaws, automobiles, cows, pushcarts, and monkeys.  Always monkeys.  It is an indescribable fluid and unspoken choreography where quick reflexes reign supreme. We traveled to the perimeter of where motor vehicles could go, and my driver jumped out of the taxi, leaving me in the car.  He motioned towards me through the dirt-stained windshield as his hands wildly accentuated his story. He returned to the cab and invited me to join the man he spoke with.  This gentleman could take me closer to the hotel, and I would have to walk the remaining distance. My new transportation isn't a taxi, though. It wasn't an auto rickshaw or tuk tuk, either, which are pervasive throughout India.  It was a bicycle rickshaw!  Bicycle rickshaws are equipped to take passengers short distances and are not designed to transport luggage.  I climbed on the only possible seat on the back of the bicycle.  Clinging to my suitcase and backpack with every ounce of strength, simultaneously questioning all my life choices.  The man struggled to pedal, as my luggage, backpack, and wine-loving physique were far more than his slight frame was used to.  He powered through with all his might and stopped when the road became narrow gaps between timeworn buildings.  I had to walk from this point forward.  Although not far from my hotel, the walk meant meandering through narrow alleys, pulling my wheelerboard suitcase adjacent to enormous piles of trash and human excrement.   I shudder to think what my suitcase traveled across.    I learned that afternoon that when a hotel inquires if you would like to arrange a water taxi for your arrival, for the love of Pete, just say yes. Channeling my inner Anthony Bourdain There are several ways to really understand a community, and one is to have a drink where the locals do.  Channeling my inner Anthony Bourdain, I walked from the Darbhanga Ghat in Old City to the more modern section.  I found a walk-up bar and ordered a beer.  A man came over to ask where I was from.  After I mentioned the United States, he asked for a more specific answer, so I told him Las Vegas.  Hearing the name Las Vegas, his eyes widened, and he gasped.  He continued to say, "You are a very strange one.  You left Sin City to come to the holiest city in the world!  Why would you come here?"  Not convinced by my answer that I wanted to learn about cultures different than my own, he quickly finished his beer and left, rather bothered by me.  I realized that here I am, a woman, wearing jeans and drinking a beer from a can on a city street.  It was not my best move -- I will need to channel my inner Anthony Bourdain elsewhere, I suppose. I was leaving Varanasi by taxi, and we were in the middle of the city.  We had stopped at a red light, and I looked out to my right and saw a beautiful, young woman sitting on the dirt ground in the median that separates traffic.  She had a child about two years old crying on her lap.  As I continued to study the scene, I couldn't help but notice her blank, empty stare of despondence.  She wasn't trying to console or engage with the child.    She looked numb and helpless as if she had stopped trying to problem-solve.  Immediately to her right was a man, lying face first, motionless on the ground.  Another child was climbing all over the man like a jungle gym.  Feeling helpless as I continued to study the scene, I continued looking at this dusty median strip alongside the road, and what I saw next stopped my heart.  An infant, no more than three months old, lying on a scrap of fabric, not large enough to be described as a blanket.  The dust, pollution, and exhaust are inescapable from their developing lungs.  There is no human contact or comfort; it is just an infant lying on the ground exposed to all the elements Varanasi, India, offers. I continued to survey the scene and counted that she had a total of five children, all existing on this swath of land between two directions of traffic.  Were they able to survive on handouts from stopped motorists?  Were they moving and needed a spot to rest?  What will become of the baby?  How will he or she develop?  Can the baby overcome?  What about the other siblings? What would their life be like if they were born elsewhere? As much as I love capturing the world on my camera, some scenes can't be, nor should they be. My dad wrote reflections about his travels; I guess you could consider him an OG travel blogger! Recently,  I came across what he wrote about his visit to India in the late 1960s. "Of all the places I have visited, India seems to have made its own deep impression.  In spite of all its charm, fascination and exoticness, the bottom line for me was a feeling of utter depression and despondency.  This feeling haunts me even today.  I still wonder if they can ever solve the horrendous problems facing them -- abject poverty, overpopulation, starvation, flooding, droughts, political instability, religious and ethnic intolerance, and on and on..." He wrote that in the early 1990s about his visit to India in the late 1960s, and I feel like I could write so much of that sentiment in 2025. If I could ask him today, I wonder if he would be surprised that his words capturing a visit to India in the late 1960s still resonate. By the time I reached New Dehli at the end of my trip, the cacophony of horns seemed less harsh and jarring.  Riding in a tuk-tuk entirely on the wrong side of traffic, with hundreds of vehicles approaching somehow, was less frightening.  However, it did make me realize every time you get in a vehicle with someone, either in an Uber in the United States or halfway around the world in the Global South, the amount of blind trust you are placing with an absolute stranger is astounding. India was exhilarating -- chaotic and captivating, yet heartbreaking as well.  Though I may never return,  a part of me will always miss it. And yes, I took the water taxi from the hotel to depart!

Rome—a city that seems to call to everyone, whether you're a seasoned traveler or planning that one big international trip of a lifetime. With its centuries-old architecture, ruins of the Roman Empire, and plates of fresh pasta that seem almost too good to be true, Rome is a dream come alive. One of the best glimpses into Ancient Roman life is the Roman Forum But let's face it—everyone knows how incredible Rome is. And if you've been there recently, you know it's not exactly a secret. Tourists are everywhere, especially around the city's most iconic spots. As a photographer, I love exploring the world with my camera, but I HATE  it when my shots are filled with random strangers. If they're not friends or family, I don't want them in my photos. I want my pictures to capture the place, not the people passing through. So, how do you photograph a city as popular as Rome without capturing the crowds? It is simple: get up early . The Magic of Mornings Most travelers aren't morning people, which means the early hours are yours for the taking. Rome before breakfast is like a completely different city—quiet, calm, and even more beautiful than you imagined. The cobblestones are empty, the piazzas are peaceful, and places like the Roman Forum or the Pantheon feel like they belong to you. 7:30 AM in front of the Pantheon, and we had the entire place to ourselves! With travelers recording record passport demand, visa applications, and airport attendance, this will become increasingly important. And with 2025 marking a Jubilee year, Rome is bracing for even larger crowds than usual. A Look Back When I visited Rome in the summer of 2018, AI photo tools weren't around to remove people from images. What you see in these photos is exactly what I saw: quiet streets and landmarks free of tour groups and selfie sticks. They're not masterpieces by any stretch, but they all share one thing: no crowds.  And it all came down to one simple habit: setting an alarm. So, if you're planning a trip to Rome—whether for the Jubilee or just to finally check it off your bucket list—don't miss out on the magic of early mornings. Rome rewards those who show up before the rest of the world. Trust me, it's worth every yawn. An empty Vatican City? Yes! Just arrive shortly after sunrise. This was taken at 5:39 AM. At dawn, Castel Sant'Angelo was serene and empty Other Tips to Capture The Eternal City The Aventine Keyhole was surprisingly challenging to capture. The lens on my Canon 60D was too large; therefore, my old iPhone 8 Plus did the trick. The Spanish Steps with only two visitors -- unheard of! Don't let rain ruin your perspective! Look for puddles to capture interesting reflections! If you still can't get a shot of the entire perspective, go for sections of a scene or building to tell the story. You can easily grab these shots of the Colosseum on a crowded day. A corner of the Pantheon is a good idea if people crowd the shot. Of course, keep an eye out for unique moments that tell a story. As of January of 2025, the procedures to see the Trevi Fountain have changed. As of January 2025, the procedures to see the Trevi Fountain have changed. No more rocking up at your whim. A temporary walkway, online booking, and entry fee, as well as visitor capacity, are new for enjoying this iconic Roman site. The tradition of tossing a coin into the fountain remains, although in an adjacent makeshift pool. Are these changes improvements or a sign of the negative consequences of over-tourism? Change your vantage point. It is easy to always capture what you see eye-level from a standing perspective. Try different perspectives, from looking up to getting low to the ground. The changes in the foreground may enhance the image. Change your vantage point. Try not to take every shot eye-level. Inside the Pantheon beneath the oculus We found ourselves inside the Pantheon mid-afternoon. It was as crowded as a college bar: shoulder-to-shoulder. How could we capture visiting the Pantheon without 1,000 others who weren't part of our travel squad? Using the timer on an iPhone, we stood beneath the oculus and placed the phone on the floor looking up. The bright light of the mid-afternoon sun shining through the oculus and the dark interior created havoc on exposure-- especially when the shot has to be incredibly quick. In a crowded setting like a summer afternoon in The Pantheon, you must move quickly and take one shot. Converting any image that the exposure isn't correct into black and white can save the shot from being deleted. Will this win any photographic competitions? Hell, no! But it did capture the family inside one of Rome's most beloved Catholic churches. Again, these are not noteworthy images but ones that show Rome without the hordes of tourists. On your next visit to Rome or any travel destination, try some of these tips and tricks. You may be pleasantly surprised with your efforts. Enjoy every moment of your adventure to Rome 🇮🇹🍕 If you use these tips from A Photographer’s Guide to Capturing Rome, remember to tag me on Instagram @globetrotting_addicts  📷💫 — I’d love to see your photos! 🧳🌸

There's a city on the Mediterranean Sea that doesn't just welcome travelers—it seduces them. Barcelona, with its rebellious Catalan spirit and fierce independence, is more than a must-visit; it's a city that demands to be felt, explored, and captured. Sure, you can Google the best places to visit—Sagrada Família, Park Güell, the usual suspects. Every travel blog out there will tell you where to go. But how do you see Barcelona? How do you photograph its essence —the pulse of its streets, the clash of old and new, the defiant beauty that makes it unlike anywhere else? As with most destinations, the first rule is you have to get up early. I know, I know, you are thinking, "Hey, this is vacation. I am sleeping in." I hear you, but Barcelona isn't exactly the world's best-kept secret. By 10 a.m., you will be surrounded by hundreds of your not-so-closest friends. Trust me, get up early—you can always take a siesta later.   Sagrada Família  -   Three distinct ways to capture Antoni Gaudi's unfinished masterpiece.  1. From the inside, fill the frame with a stained glass window that shows the sun coming through.  They are all beautiful, so select a side where the sun illuminates the ombre colors. 2. I see visitors trying to get a photo in front of the cathedral with the classic "Look, we were here!" shot.  Sagrada Família is far too tall to do this from the front.  Sure, you can use the Pano feature on your phone and possibly get it, but if you capture your family in the picture, it will probably distort them.  A better idea, go to Plaza de Gaudi.  This park, located at 41.40451° N, 2.17579° E, is the perfect place to photograph Sagrada Família.  It also has a small pond to capture the reflection of Sagrada Família, as well as foliage for nice foreground shots.  3. The rooftop at Terrazzo del Sercotel Rosellón is located at 41.40476° N, 2.17304° E inside the Hotel Sercotel Rosellón.  Sometimes, the rooftop bar is only open to hotel guests.  The hotel is a lovely boutique hotel with small but comfortable rooms.  The views are the chef's kiss regarding seeing the Sagrada Família. Parc Güell  - The iconic shot is from the top of the dragon staircase, also known as El Drac.   Since it is the shot you see everywhere, be prepared for it to be crowded.  You can get a timed entry ticket for when Parc Güell opens and go immediately to the staircase to try and beat the crowds.  If it is super crowded, take close-up shots of the mosaics, as the mosaic tiles, or more specifically, the trencadís, are the hallmarks of Gaudi's work. You can also take a close-up of the dragon as a shot for Escalier du Dragon. Take a photo in the laundry room portico from one end, and try to capture it without anyone in the shot, or maybe just a loved one.   Palau de la Musica Catalana  - This gorgeous music hall is said to be Gaudi's inspiration for his artistic masterpieces.  Buy a ticket to enter and climb a flight of stairs to the concert hall.  If you are lucky, you might see the orchestra practicing.  After soaking in the music, head to the balcony. The balcony has numerous striking mosaic inlaid columns.  Although you can easily see them from the street (I actually looked up, saw them, and said to myself, "I need to get up there!"), you can't quite capture street-level photos of the columns as the road is too narrow.   The Gothic Quarter  - I think I could spend months ambling through the centuries-old streets.  You can stumble upon Roman Ruins among quaint shops with artisan shopkeepers sitting at sewing machines making inventory to sell.  Musicians who play on the street in the shadow of Catedral de Barcelona are a common sight.  It is a dream.  Specifically, in the Gothic Quarter, photograph the following: 1. Pont del Bisbe.  Located around the corner from the cathedral, the Neo-Gothic bridge that connects two government buildings is incredible to capture early in the morning or late in the evening.  2. A city shot from the balcony of the Catedral de Barcelona.  The plaza in front of the cathedral is exceptionally crowded, mostly with tour groups following guides holding flags and speaking into a microphone transmitted to earpieces. It seems that going inside the cathedral would be mobbed; however, the entry ticket is about 18 Euros, so most walk by, or it isn't included in their flag-led tour group.  I bought a ticket, and fewer than 10 other visitors were inside!  3. The Kiss Mural, entitled The World Begins with Every Kiss , is located within walking distance of the Catedral de Barcelona. It is worth seeing because, from a distance, it shows a close-up of the lips of two lovers kissing. However, when you get closer, you will see that the mural is made of 4,000 ceramic tiles featuring photos of love and freedom.  4. The rooftop bar at Terraza del Hotel Colón at Hotel Colón located at 41.38496° N, 2.17570° E . The views from the rooftop are incredible, and the sangria is superb.  Unfortunately, this photo spot isn't a secret anymore. I went by a few times recently, and the line was down the street, mainly with US college coeds looking for the perfect Instagram shot.  However, I returned in the rain and sat underneath an umbrella with only one other table willing to sit in the rain.  Perfecto!  Other shots to capture in The Gothic Quarter are the narrow alleys.  Aim your camera up to the sky to capture the narrow nature of the alleys and the unique character of the balconies.  If it rains, try to capture these same scenes in the reflections from the puddles on the ground.   The best dinner place in the Gothic Quarter is La Alcoba Azul Gótico.  Reservations are not accepted, but it is truly a unique and delectable place to enjoy a great meal or snack. La Boqueria —If you want to understand a community while traveling, go find a market. La Boqueria is the gold standard for markets and is a must-see. Located right off La Rambla, this market is an explosion of colors and textures. Close-up shots of fruits, vegetables, jamón ibérico, queso manchego, and botifarres make this a photography and culinary must-stop. La Boqueria is also a phenomenal spot for street photography as the patrons and vendors add to the colorful and busy aisles.  Banksy Museum  - The elusive street artist from Bristol, England, has a museum showcasing his iconic work in Barcelona.  Located at Carrer de Trafalgar, 34, 08010, Barcelona, this museum highlights about 130 pieces of Banksy's work.  Lovers of street photography naturally enjoy Banksy's work.  His political commentary through graffiti and street art is analogous to Bono's political statements in U2's lyrics. Parc dels Til-lers —Located at 41.39374° N, 2.18396° E, this park is popular with locals. It is situated near Parc de la Ciutadella and the Arc de Triomf. The park's unique tile pyramid structure offers unique shots in addition to its street photography options.   Arenas de Barcelona -  Located at Plaça d'Espanya, 41.37607° N, 2.14928° E, the Arenas is a local shopping mall in a repurposed former bullring.  It has a rooftop terrace that has superb panoramic views of the city.  From the rooftop terrace, capture a bird's eye view of the traffic using a long exposure with a view of Palau Nacional in the background.  However, from the mall's interior, you can get a unique view of people at play on a futuristic ball pool.  Presented by Ikono Barcelona, this immersive experience is incredible to photograph from a few stories up looking straight down.   El Born Centre de Cultura I Memòria - Located at Plaça Comercial, 12, Ciutat Vella, 08003, is the epitome of old meets new.  It is a free location with excavated city ruins and an archeological site and cultural center.  Capture interesting angles, shadows, backlit scenes, and modern architecture next to ruins.  While in the neighborhood of El Born, take photos of the narrow alleyways and scenes of daily life in Barcelona. The architecture and vibe are similar to the alleys of The Gothic Quarter; however, this section of the city is primarily where locals live. Therefore, it certainly is an authentic view of how Barceloneses live. Basilica of Santa Maria del Pi - 41.38208° N, 2.17404° E . This stunning Gothic church dates to the early 1300s.  Photograph the rose window, one of Europe's largest stained glass windows. Capture the candles lit in the church with close-up shots and wide apertures that suggest a beautiful background.    Escorted groups are taken to the bell tower that offers panoramic views of Barcelona; inquire about times at the ticket counter.  When photographing in churches, always be respectful.  Avoid parishioners who are praying.  Donate at the primary collection in the front and any collection boxes before lighting a candle for a prayer.  As for the basilica's exterior, try a wide-angle lens to capture the entire building, or use the Pano feature on your iPhone and create a vertical panorama (street to the top of the basilica).   Culinary Delights— After all the walking and creative pursuits Barcelona offers, you will certainly work up quite an appetite. Don't forget to capture pictures of the sangria, cava, and croquetas de jamón y queso you will enjoy! If you are using an iPhone and taking a photo of a scrumptious serving of paella, stand above the dish you photograph. Position the floating crosshair over the fixed one at the center of the screen to level your photo.   Enjoy every moment of your Barcelona adventure! 🌟🏰 If you use these tips from my Photographer's Guide to Barcelona, remember to tag me on Instagram @globetrotting_addicts 📸✨—I’d love to see your photos! 🌍 . © Globe-Trotting Addicts 2025. All photos property of Joelle Massari and may not be used without permission.

What Is Happening Now? Two nights. Two long-haul, overnight flights. Barely a moment of real sleep on the flight from London to Dehli. By the time we land in Delhi, exhaustion has settled deep into our bones. But adrenaline kicks in. We have arrived in country #30, India! Determined to start our adventure, we make our way to passport control as fast as our travel-worn bodies will allow. The line is long —longer than anyone would want after two nights of upright, restless sleep. It crawls forward at a pace so slow it feels like a test of patience. Every passport, every visa, every Arrival/Disembarkation Card must be scrutinized. And in a place where over 160 nationalities require a visa to enter, this takes time. I glance around at the collection of printed eVisas, amused by the irony of their existence in an era where everything is digital. I printed our e-visa, and am amused that so many other passengers did the same. Around us, travelers shift on their feet, sigh, and check the time. I tried to think ahead of how we would feel after 36 hours of travel. Based on this, I pre-booked a private car service to Jaipur, the Pink City, because I knew we wouldn’t be thinking clearly after all this travel. A suited driver with my name on a sign would be waiting for us in the arrivals hall. No stress, no haggling for taxis—just straight into a comfortable SUV. At least, that was the plan. While waiting in the unmoving line at Passport Control, I discreetly message the car company. Stuck in a long immigration line. Just wanted to check if the driver is there. A reply comes almost instantly: “Yes, ma’am. Driver is waiting.” Relieved, I focus on getting through passport control. By the time we make it into the arrivals hall, a sea of men stands before us, each holding signs with passenger names or names of specific organized tours. I scan the signs. Walk up and down. Then again. Huh. I don’t see my name. I call the driver. “I’m here,” he assures me. “I’m coming.” “Do you have the sign?” I ask, wanting to be absolutely certain before getting into a stranger’s car. The hesitation in his voice is unmistakable. “Sign?” he repeats, as if hearing the word for the first time. A pit forms in my stomach. He has no idea what I’m talking about. For the next hour—yes, an entire hour—we play a game of wait and call, call and wait. He sends his location and I send mine. Mike FaceTimes him. The driver is actively driving somewhere. He says he’s coming back. Coming back? We landed early, but where did he go? Finally, we give up. Mike walks off and returns with another driver. No suited chauffeur, no SUV—just a tiny four-door sedan. So tiny, our luggage has to ride shotgun. Fine. Whatever. Let’s just go. Delhi reveals itself immediately: the chaos, the honking, the ever-present thick pollution. Google Maps tells us the 3.5-hour journey is now four hours . A few miles from the airport, we come to a standstill in traffic. We are seeing first hand what we anticipated—Delhi traffic is notorious. But then something very strange happens. Our driver stops the car on the side of the road.  Mike asks firmly, "What are you doing? Why did you stop?" The driver explains that he is waiting for our car. Mike’s voice sharpens. “Our car? We’re already in a car.” The driver looks ahead. “I can’t take you to Jaipur, but someone else can.” And that’s when it clicks. Our car is geographically limited to where it can go, and we need to ride in a city-to-city vehicle. We’re on the side of a Delhi road, two Westerners with all our belongings, realizing the driver wasn't transparent or clear about the process. Whispering, we try to figure out what to do next. Mike starts using his phone. Can we order an Uber? Maybe we can just get out and wait on the side of the road.  This is unfathomable that we think this is an actionable idea but given the circumstances was an option we had to consider. The driver suddenly understands a lot more English than he did before an must have heard our conversation about an Uber. He suddenly starts driving again. We demand to know what’s happening. He insists we’re just going to meet the “real” driver. Narrow streets, trash piles everywhere, not a tourist in sight. Now, we feel trapped—we’re being taken somewhere we didn’t agree to go. Mike looks at me. “This is about to go Delco bad.” You can take the boy out of Philly, but you never take Philly out of the boy. We are in a nondescript yet undesirable part of Dehli, moving at a relatively slow speed for traffic. Mike notices two taxis parked nearby. “We can get out here,” he whispers. "There are two taxis, plus I bet we can call an Uber from here, too.” I agree, and am in complete disbelief that this is our best option. We need to be fast. I see the word Bar in English on a nearby building, next to what looks like a budget hotel. We need to do so in a frenetic and chaotic manner that prevents him from taking off with our things. The driver is irate and shouting at us. We practically ran into this hotel, which is a beacon of safety and civility. It's ironic because we never would have thought of it that way if we were looking for a place to stay. The driver is shouting. He is absolutely furious.   Mike turns to him as we enter the hotel lobby and says loudly, "Look man, you weren't honest and you know it.  We are out." Sitting in the lobby, we decide we need to recollect ourself. What should we do?  Return to the airport? Looking  at the Uber app, we see that there are drivers nearby and we decide to order an Uber . But here’s the thing—every driver that accepts the ride immediately cancels when they see our destination. Jaipur is 170 miles away. After several failed attempts, one Uber driver finally accepts. We load our belongings in and settle into the car. It was hardly the experience I wanted,  one with plenty of space, air con, and a relaxing vibe, but it was certainly better than the scam we were part of. Adrenalin is running high, and we are looking out the window. We see cows, monkeys, and trucks moving with one another. Lane markers are only a suggestion, and the chaos and frenetic motion are indescribable. The constant horn honking assaults our senses. We are now in Gurugram, a major business hub just southwest of Dehli. We are continuing to drive, and suddenly Mike says, “What is happening now?” I look up. A man is standing in the middle of the highway. Our driver pulls over . I squint through the bright light and dirty windshield to see the word police on the man's vest. We were pulled over -- not by a patrol car -- but by a man standing in the middle of the highway just motioning with his hand. Our driver gets out to speak to the officer.  The language barrier prevents us from knowing the issue, but we can ascertain it is quite the disagreement . Mike asks what’s going on. The driver mutters something about a dress code. A dress code? What does that even mean? We may never know. We continue moving, and now we seem to be in fight or flight mode, with our attention on high alert. We continue to watch the Indian landscape pass us by. What we thought would be an excellent opportunity to see the country was a nightmare.  What we see can only be considered chaos. Mike nods off, and I am left on watch. Despite the intense jet lag that is setting in, my eyes are wide open as I watch for any more challenges or danger. Just when things seem to be settling down, we  pull off the highway again, and I think to myself, "Now, what is happening?" I am referencing our route against Google Maps, and I hadn't anticipated an exit. The slowing of the vehicle wakes Mike, and he looks at me to say, "What is happening now?" We realize that we are stopping for gas. I am not sure what kind of petrol is used, but the pump had two parts and we had to vacate the car as it isn't safe to be in the car while pumping the gas . As I was standing on the dusty Indian ground, I am looking at the car with my things, most importantly thinking how my passport is in the car and I don't want it exploding because I want to make it home at some point. At this point, Mike is on watch and on high alert, and the jet lag is too much for me, and I can't keep my eyes open. I awaken to realize we were within the city limits of Jaipur. Remember, throughout all this, we thought that everything would be okay once we got to Jaipur. Jaipur is on almost every Indian itinerary -- from the most opulent experiences to budget ones. All my research indicated that all visits to India must include Jaipur. We are about 3 miles from the hotel when we say, "What is happening now?" You guessed it. Another man in the middle of the road is pulling us over with the wave of a finger. This time, our driver hops out and massively argues with the policeman. The officer won't have it and is arguing back. Listening to the shouts in Hindi and using frustrated body language is all we have, but we can tell it isn't going well. What is happening? I do my best to look pleadingly at the officer, as I don't understand why we are pulled over. Will he come and ask if I am okay? Will he determine if I am safe? Will he call another ride for us? He is not interested in speaking to us, conversing with us, or determining whether we need help. The argument continues, and our driver throws his hands up in disgust, walks over to an adjacent food cart, and scans a QR code. He returns to the officer and shows him his phone, presumably proving that he was successful with the QR code on the food truck. Was this a shakedown? Did the policeman demand his dinner be paid for? What is happening here? We finally arrived at our hotel 8 hours after landing in Dehli. We are greeted with heavy security, including putting an object under the car. Mike, at this point, shouts, "Oh My God, they are scanning for car bombs. " Yep, as a loyal IHG member, we were greeted with a car bomb sweep. Exhausted, horrified, and grateful to be in the lobby, we check in and go to our room. We unpack and want to explore to stay awake and acclimate to the time difference. I had read about these bazaars that are a must to amble through, and we decided to head there, anxious for this day to redeem itself. We get to the Johri Bazaar and are accosted by aggressive sellers hawking their items. Trash is everywhere, and the merchants are so aggressively selling their items that we aren't even remotely comfortable with shopping. We decide that we are  just spent. Lacking any sense of adventure, we decide that trying to find a restaurant is entirely outside our abilities as exhaustion sets in. We choose to return to the hotel to eat at the hotel restaurant, a lovely Chinese restaurant. Defeated, we retreat to eat Chinese and lament that, of course, we would want to travel to India to eat Chinese food. Sigh. No, not at all. Sitting at the restaurant, trying to keep my eyes open, I seek the positive. There has to be positivity in India, and the good in people has to be found. It certainly couldn't all be bad. I firmly believe that travel shows you that people are inherently good and want to do the best for themselves, their family and loved ones. I decide I need to find this in India. I am on a mission now.

Goodsprings, Nevada. For most, it’s nothing more than an exit sign off I-15 on the way to California—right next to what might be the largest gas station you’ve ever seen. But have you ever stopped to explore? With a population of roughly 150-200, Goodsprings feels like a forgotten Wild West ghost town, yet people still call it home. The local school, which currently has just four students, can never be shut down—it’s a registered historic site. Here, tumbleweeds, coyotes, and rattlesnakes far outnumber residents. And yet, beneath its weathered exterior, Goodsprings has a distinct character that makes you stop and take it all in. At the heart of town, The Pioneer Saloon draws a loyal crowd. On this warm February afternoon, bikers and travelers lounged outside, soaking in the desert sun as a local band played. I had heard whispers of this place years ago, and the stories were true—it’s a bar with a cult following, its location almost a well-kept secret among those “in the know.” Beyond the saloon, Goodsprings has another hidden gem: a small museum showcasing relics from its mining boom days. The curator, a spirited woman in her mid-sixties, eagerly shared the town’s history. It was clear she could talk about Goodsprings for hours, and as she spoke, her love for this quiet desert enclave was undeniable. “It’s peaceful,” she said simply. I glanced around, taking in the dusty roads and abandoned buildings. It struck me how easy it is to judge a place from the highway—without ever truly seeing it. But travel, even just a short detour, reminds us to look closer. Every town, no matter how small or overlooked, has a story worth hearing.

Setting out to visit 100 countries and all seven continents isn’t just a bucket list item — it is a bold commitment and unique lifestyle.  The planning and sometimes sacrifices made are tenable yet can intimidate even the most seasoned wanderer. However, for some, myself included, it is a calling, and I am proud to consider myself a lifelong box-checker.  Proof that I’ve been a lifelong box-checker: In May 1981, I stood at Four Corners, thrilled to be in four states at once! On the surface, it can seem quite glamorous and appear like "You are always on vacation." However, are all trips a vacation?   I would argue, rather vehemently, that not all travel is a vacation.  To see the world and to have a goal to reach 100 countries means to experience and learn about cultures, especially ones that are different from our own. As a self-proclaimed box checker, I know it isn’t just about collecting passport stamps. Travel is about meeting new people and understanding that human nature is the same across the globe despite how differently we may look or live.  People are inherently good and want the best for themselves and their loved ones.  As human beings, we are fundamentally all the same.  Travel is the lens that teaches this impor tance. To   keep feeding the globe-trotting addiction of visiting a new location involves long hours, sleeping upright on planes, sometimes for two consecutive nights, only to arrive on chaotic streets and struggle to overcome language barriers.  It is indulging in mouthwatering street food one moment and battling lower GI illness the next.   The exhaustion from jet lag can take away from any excitement of an exploration.  But learning about new cultures, meeting new people, and seeing new places are the ultimate traveling experiences.  Nothing beats the thrill of walking through a village and witnessing daily life, whether in affluence or poverty.  It is a raw and real education you can't gain from reading a book, blog, or watching any YouTube video. As an explorer of the world, I find the local markets I visit to be the true heartbeat of a community.  To explore the world is transformative. You will no longer be the same.    Now, a vacation? That is something completely different. A vacation is when someone offers you a third margarita, assures you it will make you look thin and sexy, and delivers it straight to your poolside lounge. A vacation involves sitting, relaxing, and unwinding. Vacations involve lovers applying sunscreen on sun-kissed beaches and napping on a whim.   Traveling is the very opposite of this. It is exploration. It’s hot, sweaty, and exhausting. It is exhilarating, eye-opening,  and invigorating. Sometimes, the location, or even you, won’t smell great, but it is what makes you feel most alive.  Craig Storti puts it perfectly in Why Travel Matters : "Tourism is largely escape from, whereas true travel is arriving at. Tourism is mainly recreational, whereas travel is primarily educational."   Or, as Hans Christian Andersen so poetically wrote: "To move, to breathe, to fly, to float, To gain all while you give, To roam the roads of lands remote, To travel is to live." When you embark on such a quest to visit 100 countries and all seven continents, ask yourself, will you take on the role of a tourist, content to relax and have a nice time? Or will you embrace the deeper role as a traveler, ready for the world to change you?   The answer seems simple, doesn't it?

Early morning at St. Peter's Basilica is the best time to see it without the crowds It was an early morning in Rome, the summer of 2018. We awoke early and visited the Piazza Office to meet our guide, a Vatican priest. We anxiously waited at the Swiss Guard Station, waiting for Father to greet us. At about 7:50, he arrived in a gray Fiat, introduced us to the guards, and briskly walked us onto Vatican grounds. No security check, no metal detector—just right in. Soon, we found ourselves in the sacristy of St. Peter's Basilica. The priest handed my husband the missal, and my love began to sweat profusely. He said, "I think this is a private Mass, and I don't know what to do." At this point, I gave him a quick nine-second tutorial on the Catholic faith. In our nearly (then) 23 years of marriage, I don't think he’s ever listened to me so intently! Once our guide was ready, he led us to a small chapel on the lower level of St. Peter's. Sure enough, it was a private Mass! My husband did the First Reading eloquently and articulated well, despite beads of sweat dripping down as he navigated unfamiliar Biblical names. Our older daughter stepped up for the Responsorial Psalm and Alleluia, delivering it like a pro. Meanwhile, Father didn’t hesitate to step in with corrections when necessary, turning the experience into part sacred liturgy, part impromptu seminar. After the Gospel, he delivered a homily tailored to our family, weaving in the 1 October mass shooting in Las Vegas and the importance of looking up. He spoke about how easy it is to focus on the minutiae of life but reminded us that even with faith as small as a mustard seed, looking up and keeping faith alive will strengthen and propel us for all eternity. Needless to say, I cried through the entire homily. During the consecration, he invited us to encircle the altar—a moment so profound it defies words. But let’s just say the tears continued. After the Mass, we returned to the sacristy with full hearts. Our guide said he needed to go but escorted us to Pope John Paul II's tomb, a restricted area. After praying, we walked through St. Peter's Basilica, taking photos and admiring Michelangelo's Pieta before heading out for breakfast. At 3:15, we returned to the Swiss Guard entrance, where Father greeted us again. This time, we all piled into his Fiat, which he jokingly called the "Rolls Royce of Fiats" because it had four doors! He drove us across the Vatican, passing Pope Francis' residence. A Swiss Guard and Gendarme stood posted, signaling that the Pope was home. At various checkpoints, we’d hear him switch seamlessly between fluent Italian and humorous remarks like "Viva Las Vegas," which never failed to amuse the guards and grant us instant access. He took us to a room of ancient tombs adorned with hieroglyphics, some predating Christ. In this stifling space, the story of Christianity unfolded before us. From there, we saw a model of the ancient St. Peter's Basilica, a column from the original structure, and visited the Pope’s tomb area, where we even saw the prepared marble coffin for either Pope Benedict or Pope Francis. (Since our visit, Pope Benedict has passed.) Our guide, a Vatican clergyman, informed us that photography was strictly forbidden. He also said, "You only live once!" and captured the moment for us. Later, seated in a restricted area, we saw tourists walking by with envious expressions. I’m sure they were thinking, "We didn’t see this on the tour website!" I wish I could have told them that neither did we! Then, Father asked if we wanted to see St. Peter's tomb. Of course, we eagerly said YES! Staying close as instructed, we walked in tight formation beneath the altar of St. Peter's Basilica to the tomb of St. Peter himself—THE Rock, the foundation of the Catholic Church! We admired the solid gold artwork, sculptures, and even the circular opening that connected us to the altar above. It was utterly surreal being beneath the altar. Afterward, he took us to another restricted area where we could see into St. Peter’s tomb. No photos were allowed, so the scene remains etched in my memory. Finally, we climbed back into the Fiat and drove through Vatican City, passing the post office, gardens, and papal residences. When I asked about Pope Francis’ choice to forgo the traditional papal palace, our guide paused and said, “Well… that’s not exactly how it happened. But he’s my boss, so I probably shouldn’t share!” A Vatican priest told us, "You Only Live Once!"

The gorgeous approach to Lovers Beach via water taxi Lovers Beach in Cabo San Lucas, Mexico, is one of those spots that feels like a secret treasure, at least as much as one can be in an Instagram era. Tucked between dramatic rock formations and the clear, turquoise waters of the Sea of Cortez, it's the kind of beach you'll never forget. Whether you're after a peaceful escape or just some killer photos, Lovers Beach delivers on both fronts. Getting to Lovers Beach is part of the fun! You need to take a water taxi from the Cabo San Lucas marina to reach the beach. This is easily arranged by walking through the marina and hiring one of the many captains to take you.  The ride itself is a great experience, offering fantastic views of the coastline and the famous Arch of Cabo San Lucas (El Arco). The water taxi drivers are friendly, El Arco is the must-see icon of Cabo San Lucas, Mexico. knowledgeable, and speak English. They'll arrange a return pick-up time that works for you, so you don't have to worry about being stranded. It's a quick, scenic, and convenient way to get to this somewhat hidden gem. When you first step onto Lovers Beach, you'll quickly see why it's such a special place. The soft golden sand and crystal-clear water are picture-perfect, and the beach is surrounded by towering rocks that create a peaceful, almost private vibe. If you get there early—before 9 am—you might even have the whole beach to yourself, making it feel even more like your secret hideaway. I was there on a gorgeous, sunny spring day in May of 2024. Although I only spent about 90 minutes there, it was one of those moments that became etched into my highlight reel.   But a heads-up: While the beach is beautiful, I thought the water on the Sea of Cortez side was rough. The currents can be strong, and though there's a designated swimming area, it didn't seem like the safest spot to swim. The Pacific side, Divorce Beach, is even more intense, with powerful waves; therefore, I recommend taking photos rather than getting in the water. I imagine that weather conditions and tide schedules sometimes make access to the beach impossible. Therefore, consult a weather and tide map before your venture to avoid disappointment.   One of the cool things about Lovers Beach is that it's a very short walk from Divorce Beach on the Pacific Ocean side is breathtaking. Divorce Beach (Playa del Divorcio) sits on the Pacific Ocean side. (If you are a fellow geography nerd, you are walking from the Sea of Cortez to the Pacific Ocean in mere minutes.) Divorce Beach is stunning, but I would say it is definitely not a place for swimming—those strong waves and currents can be dangerous. However, it's the perfect spot for fun family photos, with the powerful surf crashing against the rocks. Since Lovers Beach doesn't have any facilities (restrooms, food stands, or shade), make sure you come prepared. Bring plenty of water, snacks, sunscreen, and anything else you'll need to stay comfortable. That way, you can relax and enjoy the beauty of the place without worrying about needing something. I will absolutely return on my next trip to Cabo! Lovers Beach is a must-see in Cabo San Lucas, especially if you are returning to Cabo and feel like you have "done Cabo" already. The natural beauty, the peaceful vibe, and the sense of adventure you get from getting there make it an unforgettable experience. Whether you're soaking in the views, snapping some photos, or just lounging on the sand, it's one of those places you'll want to return to again and again.

I’ve wanted to go to Rio de Janeiro since I was about 14 or 15. I still vividly remember my mom asking me where I wanted to go for a summer trip. She probably expected me to say Hilton Head or Key West (both solid choices, don’t get me wrong). Instead, I emphatically said, “Rio.” Her response? A mix of disbelief and regret. “You’re out of your mind,” she said, and instantly wished she’d never asked. Every time I think of that I can't help but smile. Fast forward a few  years, and I finally made it to Rio in 2023. Let me tell you, Rio is everything I dreamed of and more. It’s electric, alive, and drop-dead gorgeous. I’ve officially crowned it one of my new favorite places. During our visit to The Magnificent City, we hit all the must-sees, including Sugarloaf Mountain. Let me just say, the views are breathtaking. My husband, always the adventurer, had been tossing around the idea of a helicopter tour because, as he quickly realized, “You haven’t really seen  Rio until you’ve seen it from the sky.” At the first peak of Sugarloaf, Morro da Urca, we spotted a helicopter company right there, complete with a helipad and a cozy little office. My husband went inside and started inquiring with the tour operator—where does the helicopter go? How long is the flight? And, most importantly, how much does it cost? And here’s where he became an absolute legend. Standing next to him was a Brazilian couple having a similar conversation, entirely in Portuguese. Now, my husband doesn’t speak Portuguese, but he’s got a knack for reading a room (or in this case, a tiny helicopter office). With a brilliant idea, he turned to the tour operator and pitched his suggestion. “If this couple is interested,” he said, “can we split the cost and go together? We’ll pay half, and they’ll pay half.” The operator translated his pitch in Portuguese, and the couple’s faces lit up like Christmas morning. Excited nods, smiles, and some joyful nonverbal exchanges later, we had a deal. Everyone booked on the spot. Captivating views about Rio de Janeiro. Thirty minutes later, we were soaring over Rio in a helicopter, circling Christ the Redeemer with our new Brazilian friends. We taught them how to say “Wow” in English, and soon, all four of us were saying it in unison, like some kind of impromptu international choir. Sometimes the most unforgettable travel memories are the unplanned moments that unfold like magic before your eyes. Sometimes the most unforgettable travel memories are the unplanned moments that unfold like magic before your eyes.