For the last three years, I have taken some incredible trips in early fall. In 2006 I toured the Balkans, or what was formerly Yugoslavia. I ended up making my way from the Adriatic to the Black Sea, mostly by train and bus. I had no real plan, other than to see Croatia and Budapest. For six weeks though, I found myself floating around Eastern Europe, and ended up spending a few days in Istanbul after passing through Romania and Bulgaria.

In 2007, I decided to return to the area, and head even further east, this time starting and ending in Tbilisi, Georgia. After spending a week in Georgia, which is filled with the most hospitable people on the planet, I toured Eastern Turkey. I covered a lot of ground, often seeing two cities in a single day. It was tiring, but worth it. Highlights included Kars, the former Armenian capital which is now located just over the border, in Turkey. The day I visited, the grounds were entirely deserted other than a few birds and snoozing guards. I enjoy taking photographs, and then tweaking them on my computer when I return. Below on the left a photo of one of the partially-destroyed churches I passed. It was eerie being alone with ancient ruins, in a deserted field, which were in a continual state of decay. The other highlights were watching sunrise over the strange "chimney" formations in Kapadochia (second photo from the right below) and Mt. Nemrut, where there are giant heads of an ancient king, discovered by a German engineer in 1881 while plotting a highway through central Turkey (third photo from the right, below). I ended up being the only one on top of Mt. Nemrut, and remained alone for quite some time. I took out a notebook and tried to sketch the heads and took a few pictures, but eventually realized none of it could be captured very well and, resigned, lay back until the others from my group arrived. It's not that I am a phenomenal hiker, but more the fact that the others chose to ride slow-moving donkeys that brayed into the high winds to the top. I decided to use my feet, which allowed me to be alone with these massive monuments on the top of a desolate mountain in the middle of Turkey. I felt quite small up there, but was also overwhelmed by the efforts and energy that I imagined must have gone into carving giant faces out of rock on the top of am mountain thousands of years ago.

Last year I returned to Georgia again. I spent almost a month there, really soaking in the culture and checking out places I had not yet been. The highlight again was the mountainous region that borders Russia called Svaneti. When I arrived, the summer war with Russia was still winding down. I was a bit nervous at first, but it turned out to be unfounded. I had a great trip, hosted by the Naveriani family in the mountains who still live almost exactly like their ancestors did 2000 years ago (other than a spotty mobile phone and a tangle of wires that sometimes brings electricity to the house). I also took two weeks to visit Azerbaijan. Baku, the capital, was beautiful, but overflowing with new money, stemming from oil which was over $100 a barrel when I visited. Even the police drove BMWs! The highlight of Azerbaijan for me was a hike from Xinaliq to Laza, deep in the mountains along the border with Dagestan (fourth photo below). I had to hire a guide and horse to carry my bag, which I resisted initially, but was glad I did for four reasons. First, at altitude, my lungs were searing even without a bag almost immediately after we set out from the tiny house where I spent the night, listening to wind enter between the masonry, arriving with a whistle and a moan. Second, I did not know the route and there were no signs whatsoever. Third, when the weather changed - and it snapped quickly - the path along the southern slope of the Nagoya Steppe turned slick and visibility dropped to less than a meter. I was able to follow my guide and his old horse by listening to the horse groan and wheeze. Finally, I was stopped by the border police who were carrying old Soviet machine guns and did not look particularly happy to see an American tourist. They wanted to know why I was there, preparing to cross into Dagestan. I spoke about two words of Azeri, so my guide, a man named "Fig" explained that I was not heading towards Dagestan but, instead, was on my way towards the tiny village of Laza. Not only did the border police let me continue to Laza, but they gave me some crackers for the rest of the walk, which was kind. In Laza, I had the finest meal on the trip at a home stay there with a sweet family of five and have never had a better rest in my entire life, partially from relief of arriving at all, and partially from fatigue. All of this might have been influenced by cloudy, homemade orange wine, and a number of toasts, which I certainly did not understand.

This year, I was planning to travel to Iran or Myanmar. Both countries, though, appear to be growing more restrictive. Instead, I might travel to either Morocco or Mongolia. Part of the fun of a trip is just imagining it, so where I actually end up going this fall is anyone's guess right now.