Together, these pictures formed a rich description of a distinctly personal travel experience. They also demonstrated the limitations of a cheap camera and a clueless approach to composition, but at least the subject matter was improving.

The obsessive amateur
I started posting travel journals on IgoUgo (at http://www.igougo.com), a travel community, some 2.5 years ago. I wanted to illustrate what I'd written with images that were emblematic, yet original.

I began to look more closely at the pictures in travel supplements and magazines (Global and Wanderlust were two of my favorites) and read how-to books like Richard I'Anson's excellent Travel Photography, A Guide to Taking Better Pictures). I even invested in a Nikon Coolpix Digital camera (since upgraded to a rather special Panasonic DMC-FZ5).

The very fact that I was putting these pictures on display and that they had a purpose -- to illustrate my journal and create a sense of place -- encouraged a keener eye and more frequent experimentation. Of course, this meant pulling out the camera anywhere and everywhere, not just shooting scenery but also filling the frame with close-ups of architectural details and street life.

Luckily, my wife has the patience of a saint, although I am accumulating an ever-growing number of pictures in a folder marked "Wife and Buggy Disappearing into the Distance."

My wife and I share a passion for France, Provence in particular, where villages seem to have grown right out of the hills. I love walking the twisting lanes and exploring the colorful markets. The ancient streets and squares are a photographer's dream -- their distinctive monochrome lends the scenes a timeless quality. Close-ups of market produce -- glistening olives, mounds of herbs -- arouse the senses and demand to be photographed.

I can't walk past a tatty, care-worn cafe with a faded sign and peeling shutters without trying to capture a new angle -- a new, more personal take on a popular image. Of course, I don't necessarily have to stop for a pastis at every single one, but it's all part of the experience.

My inner photojournalist
My family and I have long been joined on our travels by my inner photojournalist, and now my IgoUgo friends have joined the party as well. I don't regard them as demanding companions, but my wife may beg to differ. Restaurants can be particularly testing. A digital camera and small notebook have begun appearing at the table to document the ambience, surliness of service, and my wife's choice of food ("It's nice, okay? Can I finish it now?").

This level of civility is not always maintained until dessert, and certainly not if the camera comes out too often. Prepping to photograph the food invariably initiates a sharp exit to the bathroom for my easily embarrassed wife, but even she can't deny the improved service a well-directed lens and a little note taking can bring.

There's a danger in getting a little obsessive, I guess. I haven't yet written to a Spanish town council and demanded to know the purpose of the television mast on top of their 15th-century castle, but I suspect it's only a matter of time. I do show mild irritation when my trip coincides with what appears to be the annual "Cover Every Building with Scaffolding" festival, but I'll just have to check my calendar more carefully.