Buna-Monowitz-Auschwitz III Memorial at Père Lachaise
I think these photos, which I’m posting today in honour of the 70th anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz, pretty much speak for themselves.

I took them in December 2010 at Père Lachaise Cemetery in Paris. There are almost a dozen Holocaust memorials in Père Lachaise, each of them as moving and sombre as this one, which is dedicated to Buna-Monowitz, also known as Auschwitz III.

Built to house slave labour for the Buna Works industrial complex, Buna-Monowitz was part of the Auschwitz series of camps and, like Auschwitz-Birkenau, was liberated 70 years ago today.
Through My Lens: Empire State Building
At a dinner party I was at last night, the conversation around the table turned to upcoming travel plans, both for work and for pleasure. For a small group, the list was impressive: Cuba … Jerusalem … Vietnam … Hawaii … Rwanda and Uganda … Scotland … a Rhine cruise.
And New York. One couple is headed to New York this week. As I was looking for a photo to post today, I was shocked to discover it’s been almost two years since my last post about New York.
That’s far too long. And so, here’s a view of the Empire State Building taken from Greenwich Village.

Gastown Steam Clock

The Gastown Steam Clock is one of those attractions that visitors to Vancouver love to seek out. Tourists all want their photos taken in front of the whistling clock ― it’s hard to think of Gastown without it.
So imagine my surprise last month when I was wandering around Gastown and discovered the steam clock has gone walkabout. Turns out it’s in the shop for repairs and maintenance. In its place stands a cardboard replica ― which, sadly, doesn’t do it justice.
Why the love affair with the iconic steam clock?

Although designed to blend in with the Victorian architecture that surrounds it (it’s modelled after an 1875 English clock design), Gastown’s Steam Clock was built much more recently ― in 1977. The largest of its five steam whistles comes from the retired CPR steam tug SS Naramata.
The clock serves a more utilitarian purpose than merely decorative, though. It was built to cover a steam vent on the northwest corner of Cambie and Water. (An aside: did you know that a large section of downtown Vancouver, including BC Place, Rogers Arena, the Pacific Centre Mall, and the Vancouver Central Library, is heated by steam? I did not. The things I learn doing research for this blog.)

Gastown’s Steam Clock sounds the Westminster Chimes on the quarter-hour, so I guess you could say it is Vancouver’s Big Ben. That’s probably stretching it a tad, but the clock is beloved by tourists and locals alike.
Repairs are due to be completed sometime this month. When the steam clock is once again back in its place, all will be right in Gastown’s world.
Liberté, Égalité, Fraternité
To know Paris is to know a great deal. What eloquent surprises at every turn of the street. To get lost here is an adventure extraordinary. The streets sing, the stones talk. The houses drip history, glory, romance. — Henry Miller
I’ve been struggling to write this post all week long. I wasn’t sure what to say (if anything) and I wrote (and discarded) multiple drafts (all of them in my head).
Then I saw the pictures of the millions of Parisians gathered today in the streets of Paris. Once I saw those photos, I knew which of the thousands of photos I had taken in Paris I should post.
And once I had a photo, I had the words.
Paris is close to my heart. I’ve had the privilege to visit this beautiful, amazing, perplexing, and frustrating city five times over three decades. My first visit lasted less than 24 hours; my last, just shy of three months. After Vancouver, it is my favourite place in the world.
But it wasn’t always.
I remember the exact moment I fell in love with Paris ― ironically, it was in Place de la République, the square where thousands of Parisians have gathered throughout this awful week. I was eating dinner with my father on a raised terrace overlooking the square. We had arrived in Paris just that afternoon after travelling by Eurail throughout Germany. Earlier in the week, we had had a conversation about which European city each of us could see ourselves living in. I couldn’t choose ― not one said “home” to me in the way I wanted it to.
Until that moment. As I gazed out at the trees along the boulevard, I thought to myself, “I can see myself living here” ― and before the thought had fully formed in my brain, my dad said it out loud for me. “You’d like to live here, wouldn’t you?” To my knowledge, he’s never read my mind before (or since), but he did that summer evening.
I’ve been in love with Paris ever since.
This week, my heart has been aching for Paris while I struggled to find the words to express my feelings and thoughts.
Today, Parisians took to their city’s streets in unprecedented numbers. The first reports described it as the largest demonstration since Paris’s liberation from Nazi Germany in August 1944. By the end of the day, the news media described the rally as the largest demonstration ever in French history. Ever. That is indeed unprecedented.
Tomorrow, Paris will begin to redefine itself, as it has so many times before after so many other violent, horrific events in its long and storied history. We don’t ― none of us ― have the distance and perspective necessary to understand what this week has done to the city. That will come, in time.
And so, for now, all I have is this photo, which I took on Armistice Day, 2010.

Saint Augustine
The world is a book and those who do not travel read only one page. ― Saint Augustine
Ko Samet
It’s that time of year when people tend to go all reflective and pensive and (maybe) make a resolution or two. With this year being the tenth anniversary of the Boxing Day Tsunami, my pensivity has turned to Ko Samet, an island in the Gulf of Thailand where my sister and I spent New Year’s Eve 2000.

Ko Samet was not directly affected by the tsunami, but the time we spent there made it just a tiny bit possible for me to imagine what it must have been like to witness such a horrific event.

As far as Thai islands go, Ko Samet is a quiet one, and my sister and I rented a bungalow on the beach at its quieter end. As far as New Year’s Eves go, it was probably one of the most relaxing ones I’ve ever had.

We had a spectacular view of the beach from our verandah ― a beach with the whitest sand and bluest water I have ever seen ― and we spent most of our days lying on that beach.

I also spent a lot of time reading or writing on our verandah.

Every time I looked up, there was something to see. Which, naturally, made me start playing with my camera.

What we didn’t know until we arrived on Ko Samet is that the island is equally, if not more so, as popular with Thai holiday-goers as it is with foreign tourists. That made for a much more authentic Thai island holiday than I could ever have hoped for.
I have no idea how much Ko Samet has changed in the decade and a half since we were there, but I hope not too much.
Because it was perfect.
Merry Christmas!

Morton Park, English Bay, Vancouver
Through My Lens: Kensington Place

Just in case I am giving you the impression that only Europe knows how to dress for Christmas, here is a photo I took yesterday. This apartment building was built in 1912 and is a lovely piece of the West End’s historic past.
Through My Lens: Puerta del Sol

Just in case I am giving you the impression that only Paris knows how to dress for Christmas, here is a photo I took in Madrid’s Puerta del Sol in November 2010. This is the famous Tio Pepe neon sign framed by a towering Christmas tree of lights.
Les Fenêtres de Printemps

One thing the spectacular Parisian department stores do spectacularly well are its Christmas windows. They are so popular that the crowds in front of them extend from window to curb.
Which means it takes a great deal of patience to see them properly. After rather a lot of waiting and a little bit of clever maneuvering, I was able to get in close enough to take these photos of the Printemps department store windows on Boulevard Haussmann during the 2010 Christmas season.

Often the Parisian department store windows have holiday themes related to Broadway musicals or animated films. (Yes, Disney has taken hold of Paris, too. I hear the windows of Galeries Lafayette are filled with, um, monsters this year.)
But these Printemps windows, not so much. I liked them especially because they were so quintessentially French. Created in collaboration with the Lanvin fashion house, the theme was Noël au Château (Christmas at the castle). Each window represented a different room in the château, lavishly decorated in that way the French do best and transporting me back to another century.
Which century? Why, the eighteenth, of course. When fashion was at its most opulent and France’s Ancien Régime was in its dying days.
Un noël XVIIIe siècle. Now there’s a theme I can get into.

