It was the second time that I'd ventured to the United Kingdom so I decided to take a different route than normal. The plan was simple. Meet up with my group in Birmingham, spend a month there and then go solo to London. I booked a cheap flight on Air Canada from Houston to Heathrow through Toronto, in hopes of watching the USA take on England at Wembley, which didn't happen. Instead, I took a quick coach ride up to Brum. I'd never flown Air Canada before so I didn't really have any expectations. As long as I could take my pills and fall asleep fast, everything was gonna be alright. That was not the case.

The Beginning

When I boarded I made my way to what was the very last seat in the back of the airplane, you know, the one where you can sit and chat with the stewards and stewardess' the whole flight. I would say I wasn't thrilled but for the price that I got the ticket I should have expected something like this. Determined to make the best, I quickly introduced myself to Paul the Steward and asked if I could have an early bag of peanuts before the plane took off.

As I was munching on my five unsalted peanuts a young girl came and sat down in the window seat next to me. She was about 5' 9" and had gorgeous blond hair down the back of her neck. Suddenly the trip began to look more bearable. She introduced herself as Ivana, a twenty-something that had been studying in Toronto and was on her way back to her native Czech Republic. Her English was a bit hard to understand, but at least she was pleasant.

As we took off I slid my headphones over my ears and waited for my Dramamine to kick in. After a short time of sleeping I felt a gentle touch on my arm and awoke to find Ivana staring at me. She had pulled a book out of her bag and was eager to show me some different pictures and facts about the Czech Republic.

The Middle (Where I'm Usually Asleep)

I feel I should tell you my routine before long flights. Basically, I deprive myself of sleep for at least 24-30 hours, sit down in my assigned seat and crash into slumber until I arrive. Theoretically, this approach should work perfectly but has only been executed to perfection once. So when I step onto an airplane I'm usually completely exhausted and excited.

So as Ivana opened her book and began to show me some of the beautiful sights from Prague and the surrounding countryside, I was less than amused. I could barely understand what she was saying to begin with. Even though the pictures were intriguing, I just wasn't in the mood for story time.  After paying attention for way too long, our food came and was a welcome distraction. The next couple hours passed smoothly with little interruption but just as I began to doze off again I could hear Ivana's voice calling my name. I tried desperately to ignore it but I'm just not that rude of a person. As I looked over toward her I could tell she was staring intently out the little window. I leaned over to see just what she was so interested in.

Glaciers. Ice. Frozen Beauty.

I had always flown the southerly route from Newark to the UK and had never seen the vast expanse of ice and glaciers in the Northern Atlantic. I imagine what I was looking at was part of the edge of Greenland and, eventually, the area around Iceland. It was truly astounding and I couldn't stop looking out the little piece of glass that we were stuck behind.

The End

The rest of the trip went rather quickly with just a handful of words spoken between Ivana and I but I can't help but think of what I would have missed if I would have kept pretending to sleep.

Once we got to Heathrow, I walked with Ivana into the main terminal where we talked for a little bit until she had to catch her connecting flight. We shared a quick hug and I wished her good luck and safety as she flew on. She smiled and strolled off quickly with her little picture book in hand.

I wish I had that kind of enthusiasm for where I'm from. She was so proud of the Czech Republic that she kept a piece of it with her in her carry-on, a little reminder of who she was.

I hope she remembers sitting next to some punk American kid and staring out a little window at ice as much as I remember her telling me stories about her homeland. Turns out that Ivana means "God is gracious" and that's exactly what I remember when I think about flying from Toronto to London.

Part of me remembers Paris in a strictly romantic sense. Memories of walking along the Seine at 4 a.m., seeing the hulking mass of the Eiffel Tower unlit and wrapped in the cold of February's arms. Watching the sunlight slowly engulf the spires of Notre Dame as couples held hands and took in the beauty. Still, part of me remembers Paris the way it really was. Gypsies crowded around the Eiffel Tower and rats freely roaming the plaza in front of Notre Dame, looking to feast on leftovers from Asian tourists. Fights in the Metro and endless transit strikes making the morning commute nothing short of a disaster.

Somehow, both of these are correct.

I talk about Paris a lot these days. It shows up in random conversations and then slowly takes over my thoughts for the rest of the day. I can't escape my time in the City of Love.

Winter Arrival

I first came to Paris in the winter of 2009. Novelist and playwright Irwin Shaw once said "Paris in the winter is for connoisseurs of melancholy", and I'd tend to agree. The city was gray and full of unease as I rode my first metro into the heart of Montparnasse to meet the people I would be staying with. I had never endured a winter overseas before. My trips to England had been summer excursions when tourists are in full force and the rain merely washed off the streets from the constant parades and celebrations in the city. But this was different. There was sorrow and hesitance hanging in the air. It was as if someone I didn't know died each and every morning. The tourists, those who couldn't afford Paris in the spring or summer, huddled in lines, a clever ploy to keep warm and ward off the gypsies as they waited for elevators up to the Tower's observation deck.

This melancholy that Irwin talks about gripped me too. I had just left behind someone that I cared about, only to find myself enveloped in a cold and blustery facade of what I had expected. Sure, I was excited to be there and to experience a new culture, but a part of me knew I had done the wrong thing. Did the cold last forever?

As the months went on, my situation began to mirror the weather. An inordinate amount of snow blanketed the city on more than one occasion only to be followed by a day of sunshine. The city was a yo-yo in the hands of a 5-year old. I lost weight due to stress and walking around 5-7 miles a day. My hair grew out to its longest point in my life. I was a person that I didn't even recognize. The letters that I had received once a week since my arrival had stopped sometime in March. My connection to home was slim and mostly through a girl that would break my heart exactly 2 years later. I was living in the greatest city in the world and slowly fading into an apparition.

Paris, My Lament

My time in Paris ruined me physically, mentally and spiritually. The thing is, I wouldn't trade that time for anything. Every morning the city tore me to shreds, punching holes into my tiny frame and inserting its philosophy, humor and heartache in small doses. Each day was a struggle to keep my head above water and paint a smile on my face. But then, drained of everything but existence, I would turn a corner and see the sun reflecting off the face of a girl reading a book in a cafe in Montmartre, or birds skimming the Seine as lovers embraced on Pont Neuf. The city forced its brilliance on me like a mother giving medicine to her child. It was worth it for these moments.

I remember Paris for a lot of things; romance, heartache, contradictions, sentiment. But most of all, I remember Paris because I have to. I am Paris, in all it's gritty glory. Beautiful, reckless and misunderstood.

*A version of this post was previously published in 2014.

The How To Make A Travel Video series looks at the different aspects of capturing travel memories on film. You’ll see great examples to inspire and learn about the gear and techniques that help make great travel videos better. You can find the rest of the series here. With powerful camera technology packed into our phones and cameras, creating beautiful videos is now as easy for the amateur as it is for the professional. Just pull out your camera, capture some moments and weave it together to show the world the amazing adventure you just had. Now that everyone can make these videos, if you want yours to stand out online, it has to be a really compelling story or something that is technically well done. My favorite way for travel videos to stand out from the crowd is by using mood.

Carpathians by Boroda Cinema

In this travel video by Boroda Cinema we see a group of people hiking the Carpathians in Eastern Europe. It's pretty straightforward story wise, just friends enjoying a holiday, but what makes it stand out is its use of color, light (or the lack of light) and sound to create a coherent mood throughout. The lush greens of the mountains are obscured by fog and rain creating an immediate tension in frame. the grayness of the opening shots, juxtaposed with the green fauna immediately sets a calm, almost still vibe. Even though the light changes and we see more bright colors, this imagery can be felt all the way through the video.

Sound As Setting

From the opening shot we hear rain and wind, adding to the grayness and seamlessly intertwining with the opening notes of "Stay Alive" by José Gonzalez. Not only does the song match the gray and green tones in its somber composition, it helps push the frames forward. The one thing that stands out the most about the sound in this video is the use of natural sounds in certain moments to help layer and give a human quality to the film. After all, these are people on an adventure and the intermittent laughing, the sound of cars and boots slogging through mud really reminds us of that.

Using natural sound in video helps draw the viewer in and make them a part of the setting.

Intentional Framing

The rule of thirds is undoubtedly something that should be followed in film and photography, but when shooting handheld travel video, don't be afraid to mix up the framing for interesting shots. In Carpathinas you'll see a mix of people walking center frame, leading the camera forward and then quick cuts to people middle-left or middle-right, this intentional mix of framing keeps the viewers eyes on the screen because the action is not clearly focused in one spot. A balance of shots in the center, middle-left and middle-right can make even the most mundane video easy on the eyes.

Oh That Glorious Light

What I love about travel photography and video is that you normally don't have a light setup with you and you're at the mercy of the sun. It's a humbling place to be if you're used to studio work and can really create some beautiful images. As I touched on before, the opening shots of Carpathians use the lack of direct light to create a calming mood. When you're traveling, don't be afraid to play around with under or over-exposing your images, as long as you can weave together a balanced  mood throughout. Even though we have a mix of gray and bright images in the video above, the filmmakers helped bridge the two light sources by gradually bringing in the light. There's no jarring black to white jumps, but a casual stroll into the light. Use different light sources to your advantage to create a journey.

Creating a travel video is about capturing memories and helping draw others in your adventure. Using light, sound, framing and color you can really pull viewers into the world you just experienced, possibly sparking their interest in visiting the same place. Regardless of the quality of your equipment, Boroda Cinema used a Sony A7s II, these simple storytelling techniques can make your travel video stand out from all the rest.

Travel is intensified living … and one of the last great sources of legal adventure. - Rick Steves

After living for one year with only the minimum amount of lightbulbs in my bathroom, I finally procured two new bulbs to complete the set. When I turned on the light, I was greeted with lines and grey hairs that I didn’t know existed. They had always been there, I just was willingly living in a semi-dark world that hid them from my eyes.

The act of travel is like changing lightbulbs inside of your own mind. Getting outside of your comfort zone opens your eyes and mind to things that you would never see. You begin to see qualities in yourself that you’d either buried or just hadn’t discovered yet. It’s like a divining rod for wants and desires.

Broad, wholesome, charitable views of men and things cannot be acquired by vegetating in one little corner of the earth all of one’s lifetime. – Mark Twain

Travel, Walking and Education

The best way to learn about a city is to walk it. I like to forgo public transit unless something is just really far so that I can see the everyday people at play. Mothers walking their kids to school. Vendors opening up shop before the tourists are awake. Men in suits acting mostly self-important in the grand scheme of things. Walking lets you breathe in the intricacies and feel the bumps in the road that tour buses, trams and Metros just don’t afford. It’s a cut-rate education in culture.

Walking is also one of the best ways to learn about yourself. Roads must be navigated, feelings searched, opinions formed. The sounds of the city can really hone in your thoughts, calming the brain into pondering all the newness.

Traveling tends to magnify all human emotions. — Peter Hoeg

Walking in Amsterdam led me to watching a soccer match with a group of middle-aged Scottish men in an Irish pub. It also led me to running into that same group of men two days later as they shopped for gifts for their wives, all who were on a different holiday on an island somewhere. They were boisterous, loud and welcoming to a person that they initially had nothing in common with.

Like changing a lightbulb in a bathroom, travel can be the illumination you need to jumpstart your life. Quit an unhappy job. Be more charitable. Reconnect with loved ones. Start better habits. It's a big world out there. Let it permeate your skin. Learn from it and be a better person.

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Death Cab for Cutie's "Kintsugi" album was on constant repeat as I walked the streets of Amsterdam. This track in particular is haunting, lovely and has an amazing dynamic payoff. 

I miss Paris and Amsterdam. The end of a trip is always hard, especially when you'd much rather be living in the place that you just came from. Also, it's like the surface of the sun in Houston right now and it was a lovely 65-70 degrees in France and The Netherlands, so that isn't helping. I know there's always an end, but I reserve the right to not like it. Here's a quick taste of my time there over the past few weeks. You'll hear more about the specifics soon. Everything was shot on my Nikon D750 using a 50mm 1.8g lens. Only having the 50mm option to choose from made me really think about how the shots were framed and just how up close and personal I got to my subject. You'll also find that I really like to take pictures of people taking pictures of themselves. It's a type of meta-photography that is a smidge intrusive and usually comes out blurry since you have to take it super fast. I'm not a creeper, just interested.

Paris & Amsterdam

Lens

Camera

Nikon D750 FX-format Digital SLR Camera Body Buy on Amazon

Nikon AF FX NIKKOR 50mm f/1.8D prime lens with manual aperture control Buy on Amazon