Nov

Webcam Wanderlust

by Meredith Mullins on November 10, 2015

A show that’s hard to beat: the sparkling lights of the Eiffel Tower
© Meredith Mullins

Virtual Journeys: Seeing . . . and Being Seen

Have you been waiting for the hourly light show at the Eiffel Tower?
Are you ready for a stopover in Sydney?
Do you want to see if the sun is sparkling over Niagara Falls?
Can you make time for a peek at the vivid autumn colors of New England?
Are you up for a climb to Machu Picchu?
Do you crave the energy of Times Square in New York?

All it takes is a click on a webcam link, and you are there.

Niagara Falls webcam fuels virtual wanderlust. (Image courtesy of Earthcam.)

A virtual journey to Niagara Falls via webcam.
Courtesy of Earthcam.

In the wonderful world of webcam wanderlust, you can visit places around the world whenever you want, without leaving your computer chair. There are webcams everywhere.

Real Places, Real Time, Real People

You can see the Northern Lights flash, watch pandas mate, hear the wind in the mist of thundering falls, check out gondola traffic on a Venice canal, or assess surf conditions at a Mexican beach.

Venice Grand Canal webcam inspires virtual wanderlust. (Image courtesy of Skyline Webcams.)

Feel as if you’re floating on the Grand Canal in Venice via webcam.
Courtesy of Skyline Webcams.

Of course, a virtual journey lacks the vibrancy of being there, where all your senses come alive. And webcam resolution is not the best. You are sometimes looking through raindrops, suffering from shaky camerawork as winds rock the camera, or peering through the graininess of night.

But, at least, you can see, in real time, what’s happening in the world (even if you have to wade through a few ads to get there).

Times Square at night via webcam inspires virtual wanderlust. (Image courtesy of Earthcam.)

The energy of Times Square via webcam.
Courtesy of Earthcam.

What makes the webcam scenes especially interesting are the humans who enter the stage (often quite unknowingly). I wanted to be one of these webcam stars.

Star Power

Perhaps it was all those childhood hours practicing musical numbers in the living room after my parents went to bed. Perhaps it was the fact that I had little history of being on camera—there were no home movies in my family. Perhaps it was just an obsession with fame.

My “Oh, I see” moment was clear. I wanted to appear on webcams—as many as I could find. I wanted not only to see, but to be seen.

Turning the Webcam Tide

My first audition was in St Malo, France, during one of the “high tides of the century.” One webcam there faces the sea. You can watch the tides race in, faster than a galloping horse (well, a strolling horse). And you can appear on the boardwalk, with the ebbing and flowing tide as background.

Virtual wanderlust via the St Malo webcam. (Image courtesy of city of St Malo.)

Watching the St Malo tide roll in via webcam.
Courtesy of the city of St Malo.

I alerted a friend 6,000 miles away (nine hours difference in time) that I would make my debut on webcam at a certain time. Shortly before the appointed time, the wind was howling and the waves were crashing over the boardwalk. I sent a “postponement” text and opted for the warmth and safety of my hotel room.

My friend didn’t get my text message right away and watched the fuzzy webcam image vigilantly, thinking every bundled up figure might be me. When he found out my webcam premier appearance had been postponed, he created his own imaginative reality.

Wave crashing over Meredith Mullins in St Malo, virtual wanderlust inspired by a webcam. (Image © DMT.)

Creating a webcam reality
© DMT

Messing Around in Metz

I vowed to keep my next webcam appointment no matter what the challenges. The Hôtel de Ville (City Hall) in Metz, France, provided the perfect opportunity. The webcam pointed at a large statue in the Place d’Armes. It would not be hard to position myself to be seen, and it would be easy for my viewer to see me.

Place d'Armes in Metz, virtual wanderlust inspired by webcam. (Image courtesy of the city of Metz.)

The Place d’Armes in Metz, a perfect place for a webcam debut
Courtesy of the city of Metz.

At the appointed time, I lifted my arms toward the camera. The visiting school group around me quickly backed away (as in “Step away from the madwomen.”). I held my pose and waited to be sure I was recorded.

Although I was just a fuzzy black speck on the webcam image, my moment had arrived. I was a part of webcam history. A successful (potentially award-winning?) premier.

Small black figure in the Place d'Armes in Metz, virtual wanderlust via webcam. (Image courtesy of the city of Metz.)

My webcam debut. I’m the black speck with arms raised.
Courtesy of the city of Metz and DMT.

In Pursuit of a Dream

I will continue my quest to appear on the webcams of the world. Wanderlust of the best kind.

Will I see the Big 5 on safari in Africa?

Virtual wanderlust via Tembe Elephant Park webcam. (Image courtesy of Earthcam.)

The cast of characters at the Tembe Elephant Park in southern Africa (via webcam)
Courtesy of Earthcam.

Should I toast my Irish heritage at a Dublin bar?

Virtual wanderlust via webcam of a Dublin bar. (Image courtesy of Earthcam.)

Dublin in the rain via webcam.
Courtesy of Earthcam.

Will I vacation near an azure sea on the beach at St Bart’s?

Virtual wanderlust via the St Bart's Island webcam. (Image courtesy of Earthcam.)

A dream vacation via webcam, with white sand and turquoise sea
Courtesy of Earthcam.

I hope so. But, in the meantime, I can make a virtual visit any time.

And I will caution those who may be unwitting characters in a webcam drama. Be aware. A webcam may be focused on you anywhere, anytime. The whole world could be watching.

Thank you to Earthcam, Skyline Webcams, and Africam, as well as the cities of St Malo and Metz.

Comment on this post below, or inspire insight with your own OIC Moment here.

Meredith Mullins Comments

Art of Travel/Worldwide Sites

Nov

Survival Essentials for Adventure Cycling

by Eva Boynton on November 2, 2015

Biker riding with hands in the air, demonstrating the appreciation of living only with the survival essentials during adventure cycling along Mexican toll roads. (Image © Eva Boynton)

Living off the bare necessities and feeling on top of the world.
© Eva Boynton

How Mexican Toll Roads Change Perspective

There are two main roads weaving through Mexico: the calle libre (free road) and the autopista (toll road). When four friends and I, all engaged in adventure cycling, biked through Mexico, our choice in road shaped the future.

We chose the toll road. Not only did it develop our appreciation of the survival essentials, but it also irrevocably changed our perspective.

A toll road for cars with rain clouds above, illustrating the survival essentials for bikers engaged in adventure cycling along Mexican toll roads. (Image © iStock / aidaricci)

.A toll road has different meaning to a car driver than to an adventure cyclist.
© iStock / aidaricci

Toll roads are government-owned roads that require payment (free for bicycles!) for maintenance efforts. They are:

a direct path from one big city to another
time-savers—15 to 30 miles shorter than free roads
built to offer beautiful views from bridges, smoother pavement, and a spacious shoulder for cycling

But beware! With these welcoming attributes comes a set of challenges for the adventure cyclist. The fast track means a lack of off ramps and, therefore, a lack of resources.

Signs for upcoming cities and a place to find resources, illustrating the survival essentials for bikers engaged in adventure cycling on toll roads (Image © Eva Boynton).

Few and far between are signs of places to find water and food on the toll road.
© Eva Boynton

Toll roads, by design, bypass the smaller towns along free roads where food, water, and shelter are plentiful. They teach, through trial and error, the three survival essentials of choosing to travel on the toll road.

Survival Essential #1: Water

The first question for survival on a bicycle is: “How much water can you carry?”

Water bottles strapped onto a bicycle, showing a survival essential for adventure cycling along the toll roads of Mexico. (Image © Eva Boynton).

We may crawl like snails, but carrying an extra liter or two is worth the weight.
© Eva Boynton

Our team of cyclists learned the answer the hard way.

After a 4-hour-climb in the mountains of Guerrero, Mexico, our crew stopped to fix a flat tube. When we reached for water to hydrate, we realized our bottles were empty. The midday heat was kicking in, and there was no water resource in sight.

While most of us morosely shook the last drops of water onto our tongues, my friend grabbed his empty bottles and started waving them like a madman at cars zooming by.

An 18-wheeler truck driving on the highway, illustrating how adventure cycling on Mexican toll roads changes perspectives (Image © iStock/vitpho).

Although big trucks are normally intimidating with their size and roar,
this 18-wheeler became our best friend.
© iStock / vitpho

In an act of both desperation and creativity, we followed his lead. After many cars zoomed by, our 18-wheeler salvation arrived. A cargo truck rumbled toward us and slowed with a crunch-screech of breaks.

Catching up with our empty bottles in hand, we jogged underneath the passenger’s window. A pair of hands tossed out a gallon of water. We shrieked, “Muchas gracias!”, and the anonymous driver and truck rolled into the distance.

Woman hugging a gallon of water, showing the appreciation of a survival essential during adventure cycling on Mexican toll roads. (Image © Eva Boynton)

Pure joy and appreciation for a garrafón de agua
© Eva Boynton

Although water may be an obvious survival essential, our toll road environment changed our perspective. Water became a precious commodity due to rare access and the physical need from cycling for 6 or 7 hours a day.

When we were gifted water from a truck driver or passerby, we became giddy children opening presents on Christmas day. The value of things we carried changed. Excess items (like clothes, even electronics) were left behind and replaced with the weight of water.

Survival Essential #2: Shade

We found ourselves in a desert of sun, and shade became an essential during the hottest hours of the day.

At the mercy of the weather and climate, we began to form a daily routine, where the break in the middle of the day was the perfect time to find our shade “oasis”:

8:00 am: Hit the road
2:00 pm: Find shade
4:00 pm: Continue cycling
6:00 or 7:00 pm: Look for a place to camp

What was our cue to look for shade? When we heard the sizzle of our backs frying like eggs or felt the salty sweat roll down our faces.

Three cyclists resting in the shade during an adventure cycling tour along Mexican toll roads, showing that shade is a survival essential. (Image © Eva Boynton)

The first of many naps in the shade on our toll road adventures
© Eva Boynton

Sometimes, we began to see mirages. The shadow of a small tree became an umbrella planted in the white sand with a beach chair awaiting beneath. We stopped there.

A group of bicycles parked in the shade of a tree, showing a survival essential during adventure cycling on Mexican toll roads (Image © Eva Boynton)

We were not particular, learning to love shade in all its shapes and sizes.
© Eva Boynton

While resting near an overpass, I looked over to see our teammate Gaby fast asleep on a comfortable bed of cement. A memory foam mattress would not have given her better sleep or a softer surface.

A girl sleeping on the side of the road during adventure cycling along Mexican toll roads, showing how shade is a survival essential. (Image © Eva Boynton).

Shade can make even the hardest surface seem soft.
© Eva Boynton

Our second survival essential was surely shade. We took it wherever we could find it. At midday, drivers looking out their car windows spotted five cyclists curled up in the toll road’s shady places and knew not to disturb.

Survival Essential #3: A Place to Camp

As the sun began to sink behind the mountains, exhaustion crept into our legs. We kept our eyes peeled for a place to stop, cook, and sleep.

People setting up camp under a tree during adventure cycling along Mexican toll roads, showing how a place to camp is a survival essential. (Image © Eva Boynton).

Luxurious toll road camping: finding shelter underneath a tree and out of sight from the highway.
© Eva Boynton

We began to have an eye for finding the “perfect” place to camp. A space with flat ground, enough room for three tents and perhaps a tree for rain cover. For an extra 10 points, the perfect spot was hidden from the view of traffic (avoiding car lights and any interested passersby).

Simple, but perfect for us.

Three tents set up on a space on the side of a highway, illustrating how a good place to camp is a survival essential during adventure cycling along Mexican toll roads. (Image © Gabriela Díaz Cortez).

Our horizons of mobility were widened as camping on the side of the autopista became routine.
© Gabriela Díaz Cortez

Our perspective on the perfect place to sleep changed when towns and hostels were nowhere in sight. Along the Mexican toll roads, a dirt turnout was often the only option for setting up camp. But because we carried our homes with us, the perfect place to sleep became less about the amenities and more about the freedom to stop and sleep anywhere we chose.

Appreciating the Small Things

Our time on the toll road was full of challenges that developed an appreciation for the smallest things. “Mi amor!” (My love!), I would shout in excitement for a patch of shade, a forgotten bottle of water, the beginning of a downhill, or a surprise snack at the bottom of my front basket.

A travel bicycle parked on the side of a Mexican toll road during an adventure cycling experience, showing the how the simple things are the survival essentials. (Image © Eva Boynton)

The small things became essential items of value.
© Eva Boynton

Oh, I see how traveling by bicycle on Mexican toll roads changed my view of what is essential—a cell phone or computer could not provide us the shade, a place to camp, or water to drink, the things that really mattered.

Things we took for granted, seemingly small, were now at the forefront of our attention. They were not only survival essentials, but the simple essentials.

A Mexican toll road at sunset, illustrating how the survival essentials during adventure cycling can change perspective (Image © Gabriela Díaz Cortez)

The toll road may offer challenges, but the change in perspective is worth the ride.
© Gabriela Díaz Cortez

In the end, when pedaling up to a fork in the road, a decision arises: autopista or calle libre? For adventure cycling, I recommend trying the autopista (toll road) at least once for the experience of learning your own survival essentials and perhaps a change in perspective.

Comment on this post below, or inspire insight with your own OIC Moment here.

Eva Boynton 3 Comments

Adventure Travel/Mexico

Aug

Travel Inspiration from Pencil Lead Art

by Meredith Mullins on August 31, 2015

Pencil lead art of the Eiffel Tower by Salivat Fidai providing travel inspiration for world landmarks. (Image © Salivat Fidai.)

Russian Artist’s Tiny Carvings Get Right to the Point

Good travelers seek out adventures and stories—as well as classic world landmarks.

France’s Eiffel Tower. England’s Big Ben. Italy’s Colosseum.

These are not just icons of their countries. These structures offer travel inspiration, whether we are standing in front of one for the first time, passing by one for the hundredth time and seeing it in a new way, or studying a photograph or painting on a virtual journey.

We are so familiar with these monuments that they often seem larger than life . . . except, perhaps, when we find them on the point of a pencil.

Pencil lead art of Big Ben by Salivat Fidai providing travel inspiration for world landmarks. (Image © Salivat Fidai.)

Small is Beautiful

Russian artist Salavat Fidai offers us the world in miniature. When looking at his creations, it is easy to imagine an “Oh, I see” moment of small is beautiful.

Salavat’s dedication to bringing his sculptures to perfection makes each of his pencil lead carvings even more incredible than simply a tiny world in graphite. “Each piece is a part of my soul,” he says.

Pencil lead art of the Burj Al Arab in Dubai by Salivat Fidai providing travel inspiration for world landmarks. (Image © Salivat Fidai.)

Practically speaking, his petite sculptures are a large part of his soul. He spends many night-owl hours (after his family has gone to bed) with his magnifying glass, X-acto knife, and a carefully selected thick-leaded art pencil just right for the carving.

What’s needed? A steady hand, an eye for detail, and patience.

“I experiment with different tools,” Salavat says, “But I think I would be happy creating art out of anything.”

Matchbox of Van Gogh's Portrait of Dr. Gachet by Salivat Fidai providing travel inspiration for impressionist art. (Image © Salivat Fidai.)

Fidai’s matchbox masterpiece pays tribute to Van Gogh’s Dr. Gachet.

He creates many types of miniatures, including paintings on matchboxes and pumpkin seeds, as well as larger canvases with oils. But it is the pencil carvings that give him the greatest pleasure.

Pencil lead art of the Colosseum by Salivat Fidai providing travel inspiration for world landmarks. (Image © Salivat Fidai.)

The Challenge of Graphite

The pencil lead creative process is a meditation, he explains. It is also a lesson in precision and perseverance.

He must calculate just how much pressure the lead can bear. “Will I be able to make a micro sculpture and not break the fragile graphite?” is a question he asks himself each time.

He often masters the required balance the hard way, with broken pencils and lost hours. He defends his mis-steps poetically. “Shit happens.”

Before he perfected one of his favorite character carvings—Darth Vadar—six pencil tips bit the dust, often near the end of hours of work. The investment of hours and the intricacy of the subject make the final sculpture even more appreciated.

He keeps things interesting with a wide range of subjects, from world landmarks to pop culture personalities to a freedom fist in honor of the Charlie Hebdo cartoonists.

He interacts often with his followers on social media, appreciating all comments—from the simple “OMG” and “Awesome” to the more concerned, “Why do you keep doing this when you could die from lung cancer?”

Pencil lead art of the Burj Khalifa in Dubai by Salivat Fidai providing travel inspiration for world landmarks. (Image © Salivat Fidai.)

A Deep-Rooted Love of Art

Salavat began this new profession last year after he was laid off from a law practice in Ufa, Russia. Rather than pursuing his law career in another firm, he decided to experiment with an old passion.

Both his parents are art teachers, so the love of art was already deeply rooted in his life. He studied the work of pencil lead artist Dalton Ghetti and is continually inspired by the impressionists, especially Vincent Van Gogh.

Salavat Fidai in his studio, working on pencil lead art and miniatures that provide travel inspiration for his fans. (Image courtesy of Salivat Fidai.)

The night owl, Salavat Fidai, in his studio/workshop
Photo courtesy of Salavat Fidai

Just as he was influenced by his parents, so too does he motivate his own children. They are drawn to the artistic life.

“They need to find their own unique style and purpose,” he says.

He offers to them the advice he lives by himself. “Experiment . . . and don’t be afraid to make a mistake.”

Even if it means a pile of broken pencils.

It’s worth it. Salavat’s pencil lead art takes us on an amazing world tour. Travel inspiration of the best kind—a journey of imagination.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sdx3B6ewFX0

If video does not display, watch it here.