I have now traveled to the tropics many, many times. I have lived in sub tropical Hong Kong for a total of five years. And yet, I never tire of the still exotic and irresistible landscapes. From the moment I step off the plane and my nostrils are enveloped with the now familiar smells, I am in heaven.
Mind you, these smells are not always represented by fragrant flowers and exotic cooking spices. Usually, the first scent I meet when disembarking from a plane and entering the airport is a sour, mildewy smell, reminding one of the inherent dampness of the equatorial zone.
A walk in the tropics brings to mind the houseplants of my youth. I’ll never forget a trip to Africa one spring when the poinsettia trees were in full bloom. The large bushes of familiar red flowers were breathtaking. I tried to capture their beauty on film but it proved elusive. I am still thrilled to see leaves the size of people, enormous jack fruit testing the strength of their branches, and some of the sights featured above from Bali. I now live in the north, but the pull of all things tropical remains strong.