Those images are not for release yet, but here’s a few behind the scenes moments from our days on the road around this amazing country.

Today we were shown new developments in the capital, and views across the hills of the neighbourhooods that stretch across the slopes here. Then suddenly we stumbled into a Catholic church meet, where the choir was warming up outside the entrance. Within minutes we’d stumbled onto another congregation, a Pentecostal one this time. These guys and girls really know how to party! Drumming, singing, hands in the air, waving their bibles and babies about. We all ended up getting into the beats too!

Then a quick lap round the local fruit and veg market. I’ve learnt something today – people in SE Asia are so much easier to photograph! For whatever reason, there you have it. People here watch me warily, then put up a hand and say ‘no photo’ or ask for money upfront. It takes a long time to flatter the ladies into letting me get a photo of them. But I got away with it a few times. A lot harder work than in Asia

We finished up with a sobering and moving visit to the genocide museum in Kigali. Please take some time to read up on how these events came about. I’d prefer not to delve into it here. Too much to say in order to deal with the topic fully.

This afternoon we hit the road for Ruhengeri, the base for trekking to visit the famed Silverback Gorillas. Which I should have photos of by tomorrow night!

To be continued…
Visit slideshow here:
Rwanda road-trip – Images by Peter Stuckings

Here’s a slideshow of highlights from the first few days on the road. They include Sunshine Coast surfing, beaches, a shipwreck, and the hinterland, where only minutes from the coast you can see misty mountain scenes and villages. Then there’s Brisbane, with all its colonial architecture, bridges, war memorials (Aussies have done more than their fair share of pitching in where help is needed), spectacular twilights, and gardens. I have to admit – after years of leaving this city behind, it’s surprising to find how liveable and enjoyable it’s become.


Queensland highlights - Images by Peter Stuckings

So enough about work – how about a few quick tips on travel photography in case you’re into getting the best shots of the destinations you visit when you’re traveling?

1. Preparation: is there anything that doesn’t benefit from being prepared? In travel photo terms, this means online research (such as Google images, to see what things look like, and what’s worth your time), figuring out where the sun will be throughout the day (check out iPhone app ‘Focalware’ – brilliantly handy for predicting sunrise/set and moonrise/set anywhere in the world), scoping out the locations if you have time, getting permission if necessary (the more advanced the country, the more permissions needed, usually), and of course all the usual preparations like packing your gear the night before, ensuring batteries are charged, cards are cleared, and you get a good night’s sleep. Which leads to the most important bit…

2. Up early: I’m not a morning person, so I totally sympathise with anyone who has trouble with this part. Here’s a trick: when that alarm goes off in the pre-dawn darkness, promise yourself a catch-up nap at lunchtime. It works for me . But seriously, when photographers talk about the quality of the light, there’s nothing quite like the first light of the morning and the last light of the afternoon. So what exactly do we mean about quality of light? I’m guessing there’s as many answers to that as there are photographers. But to me, it has a lot to do with the angle and the colour temperature. A low-light angle means the facades of buildings are fully lit, less obscuring shadows, and at the right angle, the light skims across facades and features, giving more depth and definition. Put simply, the light just kind of gets in under and around things. Once the sun has risen to mid-morning, through to mid-afternoon, the angle is too high and the landscape begins to look ‘flat’ and hazy. Also, building facades and people’s faces become shrouded in shadows. Then there’s the colour temperature. Depending on your location, dawn and sunset light can be warm and orangey, whereas in other locations, dawn can be cool and blue-ish. Then noontime sunlight tends to become colourless and featureless. If this doesn’t make sense, shoot some RAW files and then play with the colour temperature settings in your RAW converter. And if you’re still unsure, email me!

3. Gear: the eternal question for budding photogs is ‘What’s the best camera/lens/kit/bag/tripod/etc?’ There is no easy answer and the more you discuss it, the less likely you are to find an answer, but I find the best attitude is ‘Whatever you’ve got on you.’ It’s easy when starting out to gather so much gear that you’ve got more than you can carry or use at any given time. I’ve found that photography gear usage becomes a bell-curve over time. You start simple, but then the lens-envy and gear-obsession sets in. But if you really discover what’s best for your photography outcomes, you start to leave certain things at home, until eventually you’re going out with only one body and, at most, 2-3 lenses, maybe even downscaling to a couple of prime lenses to keep it as pure and simple as possible. Hell, you don’t even need a flash or tripod 95% of the time so why drag all that stuff around?! And in the end, your results are so much better for being light and mobile. And having less things to fiddle with and agonise over, you tend to respond more to what’s happening around you than treating it all like a theory exercise. So my advice is, take your most versatile 2-3 lenses in the most compact method (belt pouches seem to work best), put away your lens cap, and leave the camera switched on all the time in the most responsive mode you know. Then see what happens!

4. Make a plan, then throw it away: As odd as it sounds, this always works for me. Put simply, travel photography shouldn’t be overly structured. To really capture the visual essence of a place, its history, its people and its daily life, you need to wander, respond, and take some chances. But on the other hand, when you have a whole city / province / region to photograph in a matter of days, you can’t just wander aimlessly. So you need a plan. But just don’t follow it too closely or you might miss that astounding ‘unguarded moment’ (to borrow the title of Steve McCurry’s 2009 book and the Church’s 1981 classic song), which afterwards is what really makes the trip worthwhile.

Ok, best of luck with your photos. Email me anytime if you have any questions, or start a discussion with the Comments below. I’m off to photograph weekend markets, an art gallery, and maybe Koalas, if I can find them. Avagreatweekend!

And as a photographer, I’m struggling to capture it all. There’s the fact that I have to keep my head down – the organisers only just let me get beyond the barrier and up to the ropes anyway. So I’m trying not to get in the way. Then there’s the lights from all directions, some of them usually shining into the lens. Then the guys flying all over the ring, doing their utmost to smash each other’s ribs and teeth, with no consideration for how I might like them to stand for the shot . And finally there’s the fact it all happens so quickly. Forget checking what you’re getting on the screen – you’re missing half the fight!

I don’t recall the last time I got cramps in my hands from shooting so intensely, but it happened a lot tonight.


Kickboxing in Bangkok - Images by Peter Stuckings

But what I really enjoyed was the ceremony of it all. The guys climb into the ring, shed their cloaks and go through a dance, while a crazy little band plays freaky pipes and drums to one side. They warm up by hugging the corner pads, kneeling and praying, and generally dancing round. Then the bell rings and they get into it. But slowly at first. A few tentative punches and kicks. By the second round, however, they’ve gotten over the initial shocks and they let loose. The feet start flying at head height, the grappling turns into knees in ribs, and every round or so, one of them goes down, to roars from the crowd.

Anyway, you’ll see it all in the photos. And at the end, the victor celebrates on his own, almost abandoned, while the vanquished is carried off and fretted over by his team. And in the background, shady looking guys exchange wads of money and disappear into the dark street…

I’ll definitely be back!

Anyway, how to photograph a war cemetery? Only days ago, I met a New Zealand photographer in Calcutta who has a very odd job – to photograph the war cemeteries throughout the world that contain NZ remains, for the War Graves Trust in NZ. The photos end up in museums and history books. He described the challenges, and triumphs. Like in any photographic project, they go hand in hand.

I arrived at the cemetery in downtown Kanchanaburi only a half hour or so before the sun was due to sink below the trees. A great time for light glancing across the headstones, passing through the flowers, casting long shadows through the trees. There’s something poetic about the whole notion of ‘sunset’. You’ve only to capture one in a photo and it evokes emotions – which emotions I guess vary among viewers.

Sooner or later the ethical question of whether to show names and dates comes into it. But instead I decided to go ultra-wide. I can’t help feeling that with war cemeteries the central issue is the overwhelming number of lost lives. Going in close on one stone doesn’t bring home the message that many thousands of men lost their lives in the struggle.

Of course, an entirely different message could be taken from going in close. An individual, a name, a birthdate, a message or token left by loved ones, evokes thoughts of an individual one-off unique life lost, and the stones in the background help to expand that message out to the reality of the many other thousands who also suffered.

I’ve visited many war cemeteries before, being an Aussie who grew up with stories of heroism and ‘baptisms of fire’ everywhere from Turkey to north Africa to Belgium to New Guinea. I wanted to see the remnants, to breathe the air in those locales, to walk the ground, to indulge in some imaginings of what those days were like and what those people went through. But I have to admit – war cemeteries always leave me confused. Sure, they’re deeply and painfully poignant reminders of the cost of war – that’s undeniable. But if they really had any meaningful impact on the people who viewed them, how could we ever justify war again? (Warning: pacifist on a rant!) If lessons were ever learned from these monuments and memorials, our leaders would be ousted the very moment they raised the possibility of risking lives again and again in the name of geo-political/economic influence. But perhaps that gets us to the point – somehow we DO believe the loss of life is worth it. (Of course, the situation in WWII was very different to the dirty little wars that go on nowadays in the name of oil and influence – I’m not comparing them.) My point is: if we really believed – knew in our bones – that war really was the last resort, as we always say it should be, then we would have nothing to do with the war-mongering lies of Bush, Blair and Howard. We would have marched on Canberra, removed that sinister moral midget from office, and seen to it that our military insignia will not grace any more sad and lonely memorials around the world.

But no, the wars go on, the lies and made-up justifications go on, and the war cemeteries continue to spring up or grow. While walking those rows of stones, I often dream of a day when war will finally universally be held in such horror, that the prospect of volunteering lives for the senseless ambitions of self-centred leaders is so abhorrent, that we will take any and all measures to stop it. I’ve heard the word ‘naive’ bandied about when someone makes such remarks, but those who think this kind of talk is naive are often the same who can express sorrow at the sight of a war grave, and then express anger and hatred towards people they perceive as the modern day threat – those with cone hats or red flags or turbans, depending on their bent. Again, I contend that war itself – like hatred – can and must be defeated.

Then dusk – the most enjoyable light of all – was spent at the River Kwai Bridge, the symbol of the railway that cost so many allied and local lives. Long exposures of this kind demand a tripod, but I didn’t bring one on this trip since I would only need it a couple of times in several weeks. Instead, I used a method I invented some time ago. I’ll reveal it one day when I’ve taken a patent out on it

Wat Phra Si Sanphet in the Historical Park, Ayuthaya

Yesterday it was Chiang Rai, today I’m in Chiang Mai. In a day or two it’ll be Bangkok and then on and on.

I’m currently working on photos for Insight Guides, the guidebook publisher from the UK. If you’re not familiar with the books, check out any major bookstore where you should find a rack or section of Insight’s titles. Stacks of them. More titles than Lonely Planet, so they tell me!

Thailand is now the 4th country I’ve photographed for their books, and Queensland in Australia will soon be the 5th. As I travel round, inevitably I get chatting with a lot of people (of course the locals, but apart from them) – backpackers, tourists, expats. When we get around to discussing what I’m doing here, their eyes light up as if in envy. And it makes me feel odd – at once proud to be doing something seen to be fun or glamorous or adventurous, but also surprised that they would think what I struggle through to make a crust is actually enviable!

So let me tell you a little about working on a travel photography gig.

Contrary to popular belief, a travel photographer doesn’t necessarily wander about exotic places snapping away freely, giving vent to their artistic passions day in and day out, just happening to wander into a town when that awesome festival is taking place, just happening to be there at that bridge at dawn when the people with cone hats cycle by, then publishing books and getting famous, and finally retiring to a picturesque villa in Bali or Thailand (pity!). Instead, there’s a lot of groundwork, research, planning and finally, execution. Not to mention the endless days of pre-dawn starts that end at dusk, totally exhausted, filthy dirty and dripping with sweat! And there are weeks and weeks on the road when you never see a familiar face, when you get up early day after day only to find bad weather, when you have more misses than hits, and so it goes on.

There’s also usually a strict framework – a story, a topic, an outline – to be adhered to. And then there’s the deadline – the part that can take all of the fun out of the job if you let it!

Since late September, I’ve been based in one hotel or another in Bangkok or Chiang Mai, working through a photo list for Insight Guides. This work always revolves around “The List”. The publisher and I agree on a detailed, itemised list of all the things, places, people and scenes they want to

use in their upcoming editions. Based on this, we agree a lump sum fee, half is paid upfront, and then I hit the road.

It’s best this way because it would be a nightmare to gather receipts and claim for expenses. And besides, it leaves me in a good position to reduce my costs wherever possible, to leave more money in my pocket at the end. And the more you travel in a country, the more you learn, and the more you learn, the less money you need to get things done.

But back to The List.

It governs my work and therefore my life for months at a stretch, so I try to make it run in a logical sequence, to clarify spellings (not easy in some countries where there are a myriad ways to write names in the Roman alphabet), and cut out anything that’s not going to be feasible (e.g. a far-away little-visited museum that I happen to know looks crap in photos). I can order the items by geography (listed by town/province/region) or by topic (food, museums, architecture, people, etc). But in the end, I have to get out there, find the things on the list, track them down, book them in, and get them photographed.

On the up side, the majority of photography decisions are left up to me. So it might be several temples today, so I check the locations on a map, figure out the best time of day for each place, turn up, and wander round to find ways to make it look interestingly different from the two dozen or so other temples in the city. So mostly it’s fun to try out ways to capture the atmosphere, design and worshippers.

The tricky part is when The List springs a surprise like – “Early morning misty scene with bicycles in XYZ village”. Then I have to get to that village, get an early night, up at pre-dawn and out on a rented motorbike to go find bicycles in the mist. But what if that morning there’s no mist?! Or no bicycles?! Or the people on bicycles see the sneaky photographer lurking in the bushes by the side of the road and so they look away as they ride by, ruining the shot? Well, that’s all part of the job and the tyranny of The List! And it happens a lot. So that’s where I believe the real skill of this job lies. Not in getting nice photos of temples – there’s a lot of people out there who can do that these days. And not in traveling about taking random or artistic photos of everything I see – there’s a lot of people doing that all the time. The real skill is in finding efficient solutions in a place I’m not overly familiar with, don’t speak much of the language, and have extremely limited time, no matter how impossible or how difficult that might seem.

As a Magnum photographer once said, “We are in the business of making photographs, not excuses.” That’s a rule I try to live by. More on this when I get the time…