Travel Memoir. Wales.

A Couple of Days in Wales with my Seven-Year-Old

Des making new friends in St. Asaph — Credit: Author

August 11–13, 2017

St. Asaph — The City That Assumed It Was

I wasn’t going to write much about St. Asaph because even though I’d been going there for about fifteen years, I’d completely taken its quaintness and beauty for granted. However, it’s a charming little place with an extraordinary history and deserves more than just a passing mention.

Travel Memoir

The Journey to Wales

Desmond — Credit: Author

August 10, 2017

“Des is sick.”

My heart sank as I hung up the call with his mom.

Des, my son, had a fever and spent part of the night huddled around the toilet. I called American Airlines as soon as I knew, but, as you’d expect the only options they gave were ones I couldn’t afford. The airline would happily re-book us the following day for the princely sum of $7,004, and that’s not an exaggeration. The rep went out of his way to remind me that we should have bought flexible tickets. I went out of my way to remind him…

Life Lessons

The day I moved to the United States

This is not Hassan. (Photo by Bambi Corro on Unsplash)

The exact moment when I realized I wasn’t dressed to match the moment isn’t clear to me now, but it was somewhere over the Atlantic, probably a couple of hundred miles south of Greenland.

My neighboring passenger, Hassan, from Tripoli (the one in Lebanon, not Libya), was a happy, kind, and enthusiastic gentleman. He was middle eastern, probably about my age — mid-twenties, shaven, and neat, very well dressed and was super excited about beginning his new life in the United States. I knew he was excited because he couldn’t stop talking about it. Hassan made the effort, a giant…

AT&T Park (Now Oracle Park), San Francisco, CA (Photo Credit: Mark Ainscow)

Photo Credit: Author

Photos That Take Me Back To Childhood Dreams

I’ve Not Written or Photographed In A While

Dennisport Beach, MA (Photo credit: Author)

It has been a chore to write and photograph for about the last ten months. The pandemic, the social unrest, the unprecedented (and I use that word purposefully) historical era in which we find ourselves, all combined and colluded to stifle what little creative instinct I had left. My wife was concerned because I’d not been out with my camera since this all started — it just sat in the corner of my office lobbing torpedoes of guilt every time I looked over. But just a couple of weeks ago, the tween looked antsy and I persuaded him to come…

Mark Ainscow

Dad/Husband/UXer/Photographer/Brit/Yank/BWFC/Red Sox — Taker of photos and writer of a few words to surround them.

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