“Many moons ago, the gorges of the Kimberley in the North of Western Australia were formed. Create that time in your imagination with a canoe trip down the Ord River! Best of all, you don’t need a guide. You can determine your own pace following the river as it flows downstream.”

Paddling the mighty Ord River

Many moons ago, the gorges of the Kimberley in the North of Western Australia were formed. Create that time in your imagination with a canoe trip down the Ord River!

Starting at the dam wall at Lake Argyle 70km from the town of Kununurra, you can paddle and drift through ancient gorges; be deafened by the calls of birds and smelly bats; experience the magic of tropical forests; paddle down little sun dappled creeks and visit a river crocodile basking in the sun; plus, catch all the fish you need for dinner. Best of all, you don’t need a guide. You can determine your own pace following the river as it flows downstream.

This trip is suitable for the novice canoeist, although a certain degree of physical fitness is needed. The standard trip is three days, paddling about 22km on days one and three. On day two it’s only eight km. There are three campsite options for overnighting. Each is a basic bush camp with sleeping platforms, picnic table, fireplace, BBQ and drop toilet. Maka at Go Wild Adventures supplies the canoe and associated equipment.

Every day is predictably unpredictable and just drifts away as we fish and paddle and relax. We must catch fish for dinner as we only bring fruit and vegetables with us. Thus, fishing is our major activity. With one of us alternately paddling and the other trawling, we have our daily exercise. We catch catfish and sooty grunters. In the heat of the afternoon, we laze around camp reading a real book. Since it is dark at 5:15pm, in the late afternoon we create a recipe for that night’s fish and prepare our dinner. We burn tealight candles that we bring from home and in the resultant soft glow we listen to the wildlife settling for the evening as we enjoy our fish. We congratulate ourselves on how fortunate we are to be here.

Why we return each year

Our first Kimberley adventure was in 2008, trekking in the Admiralty Gulf. The guide mentioned the three day Go Wild canoe trip, so off paddling we went. Our reaction - great adventure, too short. We have come back every year since, doing ten days instead of the advertised three. Ten days is the perfect timing for us.

We return each August because, essentially, the experience of isolation has not changed much in 13 years. It is still warm in Kununurra and cold in the South. The camps are a little more comfortable and we still meet eclectic canoers who arrive late in the day and set off early next morning. We love catching, preparing and eating fish, and the catfish and sooty grunters are as plentiful as ever.

After so many years, we know the river and its moods. Each year we delight in rounding the bend into Carlton Gorge. We are nearly at Coolimon Camp where our first day’s paddle will end. Around 4.15pm, the last hour of daylight, the sun begins to sink lower and lower and the far hills become a lilac colour. The cliff above Pelican Rock goes golden and glows in the fading sunlight. With the late afternoon sun tinging the rocky outcrops orange above the gorge, the contours look three dimensional and could be mistaken for man-made castle ruins.

The dawn chorus begins about 5.30am, just as there is a touch of light in the sky. Lying in our mossie dome, we can see the sun coming over the horizon and colouring the cliffs. Screeching cockatoos fly over.

For the past three years, at the very far end of Coolimon Creek, amongst the sticks and reeds and waterlilies where only a canoe can pass, there lives a one and a half metre freshwater croc. He lies with his body on a little mud bank and his chin in the sun. We can almost touch him. He doesn’t respond to us at all – he has few visitors. For these experiences, we return again and again to this river we love.

Our changing view of Kununurra town

Initially, we’d arrive in Kununurra town the night before our canoe trip, and we’d fly out the morning we returned. In those days our holidays were limited so we chose to maximise our time up river. Nevertheless, as we met people out on the river who live and work in Kununurra, we began to learn about the joys and the challenges facing people who live in the town. Eventually, we made local friends and were able to holiday more and work less. Last year we bought a houseboat business with Maka and Carol from Go Wild. The houseboat is called “Kimberley Dreaming”. Now, after ‘roughing it’ for ten days, we can enjoy the 5-star luxury of our houseboat.

The upper reaches of the Ord River are so special. However you choose to travel it, you will have a wonderful experience.

A FAVOURITE CATFISH RECIPE

Thai Green Curried Catfish Parcel

For two packets

*Jacqui is a passionate seafood cook and is the author of 'Hooked on Herring'*

• Cook ½ cup of rice (more if hungry)

• Skin a catfish and cut into 8cm lengths

• Prepare 2 alfoil envelopes with a large piece of foil folded and folded tightly on 2 sides

• Open out the envelope and spoon rice onto the bottom

• Place fish fillets on top of rice

• Mix together a small can coconut milk, 2+ tablespoons of Thai green curry paste, a tablespoon of water, a squirt of lime and a bit of fish sauce

• Spoon the mix into each packet. Make sure there is enough liquid as it will be turned into steam as it cooks. You may need to add more water

• Seal up the parcel tightly and place on the coals of your campfire or on the BBQ

• Cook for 15 minutes

“I’d seen rosella jam for sale at the markets before, but never considered making it myself. I didn’t realise how simple it was to make. So when Andrea, a friend in Kununurra, told me about a patch of rosellas in bloom and a simple recipe to make jam, I couldn’t resist giving it a go.” Melissa Thimios, Slow Travel editor.

Collecting wild rosella and making jam

Also known as the bush hibiscus (hibiscus sabdariffa), rosella grows wild around Kununurra and the Kimberley in well drained soil. It’s considered an environmental weed because it’s not native to the Kimberley, having possibly come over from Africa or Sri Lanka.

Apart from being gorgeous to look at, it’s also edible and high in vitamin c and antioxidants.

Thanks to my friend, Andrea, I recently found myself wandering amongst a large patch of ripe rosella, ready to be picked and turned into jam. I was joined by friends Louella and Katrina, plus Katrina’s three sweet daughters Sophine, Annabelle and Georgia. Beth was on hand to take photos and video (thanks Beth!) See below for Katrina’s simple rosella jam recipe!

4 INGREDIENT SIMPLE ROSELLA JAM

Wash fruit and pull off petals

• First, fill your sink with water and soak the rosella fruit. Give the fruit a good wash to remove any bugs.

• Next, we need to separate the red calyx from the seedpod. You can pick the red petals off one by one, or use an apple corer. After you’ve done this, give the petals a good rinse again for any final bugs.

Boil seedpods

• Put all the green seedpods in a saucepan and cover them with water. During this process, the pods will release something called pectin, which is natural and eliminates the need for a setting agent.

• Bring to boil and cook covered, for 30 minutes.

• Strain and reserve the juice in a second saucepan. You can now throw out the seedpods.

Boil the calyxes (red petals)

• To the seedpod juice, add the red petals and boil for 20 minutes until a ‘pulp’ is formed.

• Measure the volume of cooked pulp and return to pan. (measurement is needed for step 9)

Add butter, lemon and sugar. Enjoy your jam!

• Add one good teaspoon of butter and the juice of one lemon.

• Add an equal amount of sugar to the pulp. So, add 1 cup of sugar to each cup of pulp, stirring well till all the sugar is completely dissolved.

• Boil quickly uncovered for 20 minutes or until jam falls thickly from a spoon when tested.

Name: Boab

Scientific Classification: Adansonia Gregorii

Alternative Names: Australian baobab, bottle tree, gouty stem tree

Boab Smoothie Bowl

Click here to read our article about boab trees and their fruit. Here’s a snippet:

Boabs are endemic to Western Australia’s Kimberley region and the Victoria River region of the Northern Territory.

The Miriwoong people traditionally used boabs (Gerdewoon) for food, water, medicine and shelter. Their fruit is edible and, in fact, it’s really high in Vitamin C. Though, it’s unlikely that you’ll see boab on many mainstream menus anytime soon, as there is only a small commercial industry for them.

Boab fruit has six times more vitamin C than an orange and it’s rich in other vitamins like Vitamin A, B1 and B2. It contains minerals like zinc, magnesium, iron and potassium and it’s got twice as much calcium as milk.

Ingredients and method

• 1 banana, frozen

• Half a mango, frozen

• 1 tablespoon boab

• 1 tablespoon honey

• 1 date

• 2x almonds

• A pinch of cinnamon

• ¼ cup water

• ¼ cup almond milk

Begin by grinding the boab nut (remove seeds and grind down into powder form in food processer or blender.

Place all ingredients into blender and blend until smooth. If you want it thicker, add more frozen banana and mango.

Transfer into a bowl and decorate with your favourite toppings. We love granola, bananas and fresh berries.

Name: Boab

Scientific Classification: Adansonia Gregorii

Alternative Names: Australian baobab, bottle tree, gouty stem tree

Going nuts for boabs

Could there be a tree that better represents the character of the Kimberley than the boab? Scattered throughout the savannah or neatly landscaped into gardens and streetscapes, the boab has a commanding presence wherever it grows.

Like many long-term local residents of the Kimberley, boabs are resilient. Deciduous by nature, they survive prolonged periods of heat and humidity and they adapt to many months without rain, storing water in their fibrous trunks. In the Kimberley, only the tough survive and there’s no tolerance for ego or pride. Ancient Aboriginal Dreamtime stories tell of how the boab was once arrogant and proud so the spirits plucked it from the earth and re-planted it upside-down. Indeed, a boab tree in the middle of the Dry Season, parched and naked of leaf, does look a bit like an upside-down tree; it’s spindly fingers resembling tree roots reaching into the space beyond.

Boabs are endemic to Western Australia’s Kimberley region and the Victoria River region of the Northern Territory. Despite their prolific numbers in the Kimberley, and their iconic appearance, many Aussies have no idea what a boab is, or that they grow right here in Australia. On a few occasions I’ve had friends from the eastern states visit and they’ve been completely mystified upon seeing their first boab, staring in wonder or mistakenly calling them baobabs.

The boab is treasured for its many practical uses, and revered for its almost-spiritual presence. Anyone who has ever slept in a swag beneath a boab can testify to this. One of the Kimberley’s greatest vistas is a boab silhouetted against the evening sky. Boabs at night, an astrophotographer’s delight! They come in many shapes and sizes; some fat, some tall, some with branches reaching up to heaven and some with heavy, bulbous limbs drooping to the ground. Growing to 1500 years and older, they are Australia’s oldest living beings.

The Miriwoong people traditionally used boabs (Gerdewoon) for food, water, medicine and shelter. Their fruit is edible and, in fact, it’s really high in Vitamin C. Though, it’s unlikely that you’ll see boab on many mainstream menus anytime soon, as there is only a small commercial industry for them. Despite their superfood qualities, most Aussies are more likely to eat an acai berry that’s travelled thousands of kilometres from Brazil than boab fruit that grows right here in the Australian bush. Boab fruit has six times more vitamin C than an orange and it’s rich in other vitamins like Vitamin A, B1 and B2. It contains minerals like zinc, magnesium, iron and potassium and it’s got twice as much calcium as milk.

The easiest way to sample boab fruit is just to pluck a nut straight from the tree and crack it open (if there’s a branch hanging low enough to grab one, that is). Otherwise, pick up a freshly fallen nut from the ground. The powdery pith has a slight tangy flavour and an interesting texture. Mum loves to add it into her scone mix. You can also eat baby boab ‘tubers’, the tap root of the tree when it’s a seedling. They are harvested at around 6-8 weeks old. Peel them back and then eat them like you’d eat a carrot. You can eat the whole tuber, including the leaves. Why not add one into your salad? They taste sweet and they’re crunchy and crisp like a water chestnut.

Beyond food, the boab has been utilised for many purposes including making ropes and baskets from the fibrous bark; extracting red dye from the tree roots; providing shelter and boab nut carving, which is a popular local artform and a great souvenir. In the Eastern Kimberley, a boab tree 6km south of Derby is famously known as the ‘prison boab’ due to stories that it was once used as a temporary holding cell for indigenous prisoners. Indeed, the sometimes-hollow trunks of mature boabs can accommodate several people inside them. The Derby prison boab tree and the lesser-known Wyndham boab tree have become popular stops for tourists travelling the Kimberley. In Kununurra, the boab at the beginning of Packsaddle Road near the Victorian Highway is also hollow. You’ll often see cars parked with tourists taking photos and some bravely scrambling inside. I say ‘brave enough’ because the trunks are often inhabited by creepy crawlies.

Boabs truly are sentinent beings. It’s impossible not to form a deep admiration for them. They have the familiar presence of an old friend, or a grandparent (in the case of the more mature trees). Indeed, there is no tree that better represents the character of the Kimberley than the boab.

On the 10th of September 1960, Abebe Bikila became the first person from sub-Saharan Africa to win an Olympic gold medal. He’d purchased a brand new pair of shoes for the event, but they gave him blisters. So Abede ran the marathon barefoot. And he won.

Here in Western Australia’s Kimberley region, the landscape bares a strong likeness to that of the sub-Saharan Africa that Abebe grew up in. A sunburnt country, where warm oranges melt into purple-black shadows cast upon jagged rock formations. In both places, the traditional peoples maintain a deep, reverent connection with their country.

I’m walking down the main street of Kununurra and I’ve forgotten to put on shoes ... again. It’s a habit I’ve grown up with, having been born and raised in the coastal ‘hippie’ town of Byron Bay. After travelling a lot over the past few years, my focus has now subtly shifted from ‘seeing it all’ in a whirlwind trip, to slowing down and moving at the pace of the culture that I am immersing in. Here in the Eastern Kimberley, Kununurra ticks along on Kimberley time. There’s no rush.

There are stories here; stories of connection to country. Walkabout is not asking ‘are we there yet?’ or ‘how much longer until we arrive?’ You see, we are already there. We are always there. In every moment, the journey IS the destination.

Taking off my shoes (or forgetting to ever put them on) helps me to slow down. Being barefoot acknowledges the landscape beneath you. Getting to know a place involves a lot more than ticking off icons on a sightseeing list. Knowing country is more. It’s the feeling of connectedness.

Today, the ancient practice of walking barefoot has been given trendy labels like ‘earthing’ and ‘grounding’. It’s believed that walking barefoot normalises the body’s biological rhythms. Aboriginal people experience this as being in tune with nature. In the East Kimberley, the lifestyle of the Miriwoong people traditionally centres around their connection with the earth and living in harmony with it.

If connection to country helps us to tune in with nature, it quickly becomes evident why the world sometimes echoes a somber symphony; half of the orchestra is out of tune! When you believe that walking barefoot connects you to a place, then being in nature becomes a spiritual experience.

In a town or a city, however, barefootedness can connect you to the downtrodden state of the world. I find that walking barefoot is not a sign of poverty and uncleanliness, but rather the state of the surrounding environment that might make it seem that way. When I walk the street barefoot, I am hyperaware of broken glass, needles and diseases. It’s sad that we could miss out on this experience of connection because we feel unsafe.

On the edge of town on a walk through Mirima National Park, aka the ‘mini Bungles’, I hear the crisp crunch of booted feet in swift momentum. The lizard that I was curiously watching has darted for cover. The insects are quiet. On one hand, I respect that the hikers have chosen to wear protective footwear so that can comfortably navigate this foreign landscape. However, I am suggesting that the comfort and ease of wearing this footwear is facilitating their rush to get to the scenic lookout above. I feel sad that they may miss out on the small treasures to be seen along the way.

A local Elder told me about a most beautiful tradition; Miriwoong babies are washed in water from the river along with wattle leaves. This introduces the child to country and is believed to allow the country to recognise that child. Miriwoong children then grow up with country.

Words in this post are by Grace Hamill, all images are by Renae Saxby.

Name: Boab

Scientific Classification: Adansonia Gregorii

Alternative Names: Australian baobab, bottle tree, gouty stem tree

Mum’s Boab Scones

Click here to read our article about boab trees and their fruit. Here’s a snippet:

Boabs are endemic to Western Australia’s Kimberley region and the Victoria River region of the Northern Territory.

The Miriwoong people traditionally used boabs (Gerdewoon) for food, water, medicine and shelter. Their fruit is edible and, in fact, it’s really high in Vitamin C. Though, it’s unlikely that you’ll see boab on many mainstream menus anytime soon, as there is only a small commercial industry for them.

Boab fruit has six times more vitamin C than an orange and it’s rich in other vitamins like Vitamin A, B1 and B2. It contains minerals like zinc, magnesium, iron and potassium and it’s got twice as much calcium as milk.

Ingredients

Makes 15 scones

• 3 cups self raising flour

• A few spoons of cream

• 1 cup milk

• 1-2 cups water, as needed

• A few tablespoons of ground boab nut (remove seeds and grind down into powder form in food processer or blender)

Method

Makes 15 scones

• Turn fan forced oven onto 200 degrees

• Mix together all ingredients

• Dust large chopping board with flour

• Knead scone mix together on the chopping board

• Avoid handling the mix too much. Once it’s formed one big lump, cut out scones with a round glass

• Put each scone onto oven tray that has been dusted with flour

• Bake for 12 minutes, then check inside one scone to ensure it’s cooked through (may need another minute or two)

The rivers and tributaries of the Kimberley offer many challenges and mysteries. Within their ecosystems you’ll find giants of many kinds, from colossal rock formations and sky-high waterfalls to enormous crocodiles, all making their presence known, albeit reticently. For the keen angler, these waterways offer the promise of landing ‘the big one’.

Barra Hook and Cook in the eastern Kimberley

In water-plenty towns like Kununurra, you’ll likely find many conversations about the elusive barramundi: a tasty fish that mirrors the challenging temperament of the country here.

Heading westward to Kununurra, I made it known to any avid fishermen around that I would be travelling to the Kimberley and catching a ‘metre’ barra (a milestone in the Australian fishing world) and there was no doubt about it. As an overconfident fisherwoman with (admittedly) minimal-to-no real fishing experience, my no-doubt-attitude gave giggle to some locals who had spent years trying, and failing, to join the ‘metre club’.

But then, there were the locals who would tell me the rivers here are “full of ‘em!”. And as they say, locals knows best. So, I became hopeful I could convince one of them with the latter opinion to take me fishing. A true Australian Cowboy and ringer, Navarone Salerno took the bait, agreeing to give me a lesson in “Barra Fishing: for Dummies”. I, the dummy, was pretty stoked to have him on board my mission. Quite the master of bush survival, Nav has spent most of his life on the land in and around Kununurra, mustering cattle and doing whatever else cowboys do.

I’ve often found myself drawn to people like Nav who are living off the land in different ways. As Miriwoong Elder Ben Ward recently told me, “Food is for free" (see full interview page…). Certainly, fishing sustainably for the purpose of putting food on the table is an idea I’m hooked on.

On the drive to our fishing spot, I’m fascinated as he points out the characteristics of country he is so familiar with. Nav thrives off the land here, stopping along the way to pick bush foods to snack on. He points out that there are many fantastic fishing spots in and around Kununurra including Ivanhoe Crossing and the Lower Ord (downstream of the diversion dam). Even the freshwater Upper Ord is abundant, since 200,000 baby barra were released in 2019 as part of Lake Kununurra’s Barramundi Restocking Programme.

We arrive at the Pentecost River at first light, where it’s low tide and still. I’m very aware this window of opportunity won’t last long. Once the river wakes up the tide will run back in like a torrent. I pause for a moment to take it in. “Every tide is different,” Nav says. “You’re never going to see this one again”.

Like myself, Nav likes to keep things simple. We’re not using top of the line reels or fancy lures that claim to be “Barramundi’s favourite”. We have a hand-line each plus one more for good luck, a net for baitfish and a knife.

I’m up to my knees in mud playing the waiting game. I only hope that the crocodiles here aren’t playing the same game. The Cockburn Ranges are silhouetted like huge waves against the horizon and black cockatoos are singing their first song.

Casting out, Nav passes on some local knowledge, “The Aboriginal mob here taught me: put your energy into the place and the place will give energy back to you.”

All but 15 minutes pass and the slack in one of the lines starts running out into the river. I know it’s best to let this fish tire itself out before bringing it in. Barramundi are infamous acrobats, so letting them run stops them from spitting the hook. Pulling the line in I am excited to land my first Barra - a perfect 73cm for the table. I’m one happy girl covered in mud. It’s not long before another is on.

As I find out, big fish can be lazy and occasionally a large Barramundi will not run at all after being hooked. Nav’s off wading in the mud to net some more baitfish when I notice one of our lines slowly lose the slack in it, almost gently, nothing like the fish before. Checking the line I’m surprised by the weight on the end and I assume it couldn't be anything but a snag. Holding onto the taught reel I call Nav back to”un-snag me” from whatever I’m caught on, which ends up being…. a 112cm Barramundi! Now, I’m not fishing for compliments here but that’s a BIG fish! At 80cm saltwater Barramundi mature to become female and must be released to breed. So, this 112cm giant is a big mama. We snap a picture and set her free.

Now, it’s time for a feed on the fish we did keep. We gather wood from the gumtrees and light a fire on the banks under a big old boab. Placing the fish on hot coals we sit to watch the landscape change as the tide rushes in and birds of prey hunt from the same river that we’ve just fished.

When cooked over the coals the skin falls right off the bones. With some chilli, lime, salt and pepper there’s no better way to enjoy fresh fish. This conservation of taste is something I’ve learned from the philosophy of the Slow Food movement. You can easily ruin a good fish and lose the flavour of a fresh catch by overcomplicating things.

It’s the epitome of a perfect morning on the land here in the Eastern Kimberley. Whether this was all down to a game of chance; the lucky socks I was wearing or having the right company (thanks Nav), I’m happy to say that my first Barra fishing experience here blew my expectations right out of the water.

NAVS TOP 4 BARRA CATCHING TIPS

• Fish at sunrise or sunset, as a rule of thumb.

• Change up your bait; they’re moody eaters. Sometimes all they are biting are lures, other days live bait, others it’s dead bait. Give it all a go to see what works on the day!

• Know where they hang (local knowledge helps a great deal).

• Practice patience and enjoy the scenery (and your company)!

Ella Doonan was the General Manager at Mowanjum Aboriginal Art and Culture Centre and is now a freelance writer, project manager and business consultant within the creative industries sector. All words in this article are by Ella and images are credited to the individual photographers.

Kimberley indigenous art centres, with Ella Doonan

From crystal coastlines to purple-hued ranges and sweeping savannah lands, the Kimberley has it all. But it’s not just the landscapes that keep you guessing; Aboriginal art across the Kimberley is unbelievably diverse.

While artists previously took to caves to preserve stories and culture, now Indigenous art centres are the creative hubs where modern incarnations of ancient artforms are continued today. Added to the mix are stories from the old station days and colourful abstracted influences from the nearby Tanami desert.

When I moved to the Kimberley to work at Mowanjum Aboriginal Art and Culture Centre, I was excited to work amongst some of Australia’s most recognised living artists. I was not expecting to be so blown away by the ‘side projects’ art centres do beyond making and selling art. From preserving language and culture for future generations, to providing economic independence for so many artists and offering local, culture-based employment for Traditional Owners in a place where job opportunities are limited.

Art centres also offer a solution to the common dilemma many visitors have of how to buy Aboriginal art ethically. Sometimes it is difficult to know which dealers are ethical, or whether it is okay to buy directly from the artist. It is always best to buy from a dealer that is a member of the Indigenous Art Code. They will be able to provide provenance documentation and a certificate of authenticity to ensure transparency and accountability.

Nagula Jarndu Designs

Starting in Broome, the land of the saltwater woman, or “Nagula Jarndu” in the local Yawuru language. Nagula Jarndu Designs started in 1987 to preserve Yaruwu language and culture. Over the years it evolved to become a social enterprise specialising in high quality textiles that reflect the distinctive natural environment around Broome. Visit the centre to watch the textile artists at work, have a chat and browse the beautiful fabrics available.

www.nagulajarndu.com.au

Short St. Gallery

Short St. Gallery is a private gallery owned by Emily Rohr, a woman who has worked with Indigenous artists particularly in the Broome area for more than two decades. Short St. has two locations in Broome: the gallery on Short Street in a beautifully restored heritage building where regular exhibitions are held; and ‘The Bungalow’ on a backstreet near Town Beach where you can flick through incredible artwork from all over Australia. The friendly and professional staff really know their stuff, so ask them anything!

www.shortstgallery.com.au

Mowanjum Arts

Mowanjum Arts is located 220 kilometres from Broome via sealed road. Mowanjum Arts is the centre of Wandjina art, so much so that if you are lucky enough to view the building from above, you will see that it is in the shape of a Wandjina head!

What is a Wandjina? It is a supreme creation spirit that is revered by the Ngarinyin, Worrorra and Wunambal people of the North West Kimberley. This mystical being is often misunderstood, but Mowanjum Arts does a great job of explaining the meaning and significance of the Wandjina through an engaging 20 minute video. It will come in handy if you plan to head out onto the Gibb River Road, where you will find Wandjina cave paintings scattered from Mt Barnett to Mitchell Falls.

And of course, don't miss Mowanjum Festival, held around July each year.

www.mowanjumarts.com/

Mangkaja Arts Resource Agency

Another 2.5 hours down the sealed highway takes you to Mangkaja Arts in Fitzroy Crossing, where you are greeted by fairy floss colours that reflect desert landscapes. Representing five language groups that were gathered together on the Fitzroy River during colonisation, Mangkaja Arts is renowned for its bright colour palette and unconventional materials including Perspex, tin and even cow hides!

www.mangkaja.com

Marnin Studio

Just five minutes down the road is Marnin Studio, which is the social enterprise arm of the Marninwarntikura Women’s Resource Centre. A healing space for women to create, relax and learn, Marnin Studio provides a pathway to financial independence for its incredible artists. Known for its pastel hues and contemporary designs, Marnin Studio produces beautiful hand painted boab nuts, naturally dyed silk scarves and block-printed textiles that speak to the local environment and culture.

www.marninstudio.com.au

Warmun Art Centre

Warmun Art Centre is a veritable who’s who of the contemporary arts world, with so many big names emerging from this community including Paddy Bedford, Mabel Juli, Patrick Mung Mung, Lena Nyadbi, Rusty Peters and Shirley Purdie. Warmun itself is little more than a roadhouse, but the surrounding landscape is jaw dropping as is the art. The Warmun style is instantly recognisable – think coarsely crushed ochre on large canvases, limited colour palettes and uncluttered compositions. Warmun is a collector’s paradise, with artists having strong representation in all major galleries and museums across the country.

www.warmunart.com.au

Waringarri Aboriginal Arts

Located at the base of Kelly’s Knob in Kununurra, Waringarri Aboriginal Arts is the longest-running art centre in the Kimberley. As well as maintaining a beautiful gallery space, Waringarri Aboriginal Arts also offers a range of cultural tours encompassing art, music, bush tucker and even walks on country.

www.waringarriarts.com.au

Kira Kiro Art Centre

Finally, if you make it as far as Kalumburu, be sure to stop by Kira Kiro Arts. Kira Kiro is the local word for ‘Bradshaw’ figures or gyorn gyorns, which dominate cave sites in the local region, and is the dominant iconography of contemporary art coming from Kalumburu. Artists such as Betty Bundamurra mainly use ochre pigment on either paper or canvas to capture the crowded compositions of the rock art of their ancestors.

www.facebook.com/kirokiroartists/

Thanks for reading! Drop back from time-to-time and please - if any of the information has changed - leave a comment below :)

“The butanding bring our village employment and prosperity. 20 years ago, there were no tourists.” Marilyn, the owner of Aguluz Homestay in Donsol.

Words by Melissa Connell, pics by Grace Picot.

“Driving through this countryside, I finally understand what it must have been like for mum to grow up here,” remarked Grace, speaking of her mother’s childhood in a rural village of The Philippines.

When I invited Grace to join me on a trip to The Philippines, she jumped at the opportunity to reconnect with her family and to explore more of the island where her mother grew up.

After an eight hour flight from Sydney we arrived into Manila for a brief layover before boarding a 1 hour flight to Legazpi, in the Bicol region. Bicol is located in the southern-most tip of Luzon Island, the largest of the Philippines’ 7,107 islands. Our destination was the little seaside village of Donsol, a 1.5 hour drive from Legazpi city.

Exiting the city, Mayon Volcano loomed ominously in the distance, its majestic, almost perfectly symmetrical contour giving the countryside a balanced and peaceful ambience. But don’t be fooled, Mayon is the most active volcano in the Philippines having erupted more than 40 times in the past 400 years.

We navigated past rice fields, coconut plantations and acres of vegetation before winding up a misty mountain to bathe in the cool waters of Vera Falls - a stunning, cascading waterfall that we had all to ourselves.

The ocean was calling so we headed southwest to the coastline where Mark dropped us off at Donsol, formerly a sleepy fishing village that now has a thriving tourism industry due to the presence of ‘butanding’; whale sharks.

“The butanding bring our village employment and prosperity” explained Marilyn, the owner of Aguluz Homestay in Donsol, “20 years ago, there were no tourists.”

It’s true. Until whale sharks put the town on the tourist map, Donsol was an obscure, remote fishing village. In December 1997, a local diver shot a video of the whale sharks and a newspaper carried a story about Donsol’s gentle butanding. By March 1998, Donsol had became a world class eco-tourism destination.

Thankfully, the World Wildlife Fund were quick to move in on the scene and establish regulations and guidelines for shark interactions, including limiting the number of swimmers per boat to six and remaining 3+ metres from the sharks.

Whilst interactions in other regions have been criticised for attracting the butanding by feeding them - which interrupts their natural feeding cycle - the whale sharks of Donsol come of their own volition every December-May, when warm streams bring plankton close to the shore.

The Elysia Beach Resort website indicated that 8-12 sharks were being spotted per day and, upon entering the water, we were not disappointed. Our guide led us across to a small stirring in the water and we peered through our masks into the cloudy blue abyss. For a few moments there was nothing, then suddenly a large shadow drifted beneath us, its gigantic mouth gaping open whilst its tail gently swished from side to side. I was mesmerised.

Growing to lengths of up to 40 feet, the whale shark is the biggest fish and shark in the world. Observing a whale shark in its natural environment is a relaxing experience. I found myself consistently drifting closer and then having to remind myself that they are wild animals; it’s important to give them their space.

Apart from their distinct shape, whale sharks are easily recognisable by the markings on their bodies. Their beautiful 'checkerboard' pattern of light stripes and spots against a dark background are as unique as human fingerprints.

Sadly, whale sharks are currently on the WWF’s ‘vulnerable to extinction’ list due to demand for their meat, fins and oil. But, as tourism continues to grow and benefit local communities, fishermen are getting in on the action as whale shark ‘spotters’ instead of whale shark ‘hunters’.

I fell in love with the community of Donsol over the course of our time there. While I was initially drawn to the village by the whale sharks, it was the community that made the experience enriching. Strolling the dusty streets in the tropical, summer heat, locals waved to us and children smiled and said hello. Everyone was out and about each evening, socialising and sharing meals together. Depsite being a foreigner, I really felt like I was part of the local atmosphere and I genuinely felt welcome among this simple living, ocean loving community.

2 organisations that are doing some great work to assist in whale shark conservation:

LAMAVE (Large Marine Vertebrates Project)

Researchers and volunteers work closely with local governments, communities, businesses and tourists to ensure the conservation of large marine animals through science, education, and advocacy. You can donate to LAMAVE or join them as a volunteer, becoming part of a conservation project actively working within the local community. Apply via http://www.lamave.org/

WWF Philippines (World Wildlife Fund)

WWF experts continue to study shark habits and gather information in the Coral Triangle on individual sharks by using satellite tags, sonar devices and digital cameras. The information is used to create further protections for whale sharks.

WHEN IN DONSOL

1. Eat as the locals do

Well known for dishes cooked in "gata" or coconut cream, Bicolano delicacies are plentiful in Donsol, both in the resorts and on the street. A famous dish is "laing" or "gabi", which is dried taro leaves cooked in coconut cream with cuts of meat or fish. Another delicious Bicolano dish is "Bicol Express" - stir fried pork with shrimp paste, heavy coconut cream and green chillies. It’s a spicy dish that is best eaten with hot, steamed rice. Be sure to keep some water nearby.

2. BYO cash

Bring enough cash to Donsol as many establishments accept cash only.

3. Whale sharks are not guaranteed

While there is a good chance that you will see whale sharks during the peak months of December-May, remember that they are wild animals and sightings are not guaranteed. Allow yourself enough time to go on a few boat trips to increase your chances, but prepare to participate in other local activities if there are no whale sharks around.

4. Getting there and away

As I found out the hard way, if you leave your flight bookings to the last minute you can pay hundreds of dollars more than you should. Book early! Most accommodation offers van transfers from Legaspi airport to Donsol.

5. Getting around

The tricycle is a motorbike with a sidecar / passenger cabin on an attached third wheel. This popular local form of transport is both cheap and fun. 50 pesos for 3-4 km's is the standard rate. When bargaining, remember that a small amount to a foreigner can go a long way to help, so don’t be too aggressive. Smile, agree on an amount, then enjoy the ride!

6. Learning the language

“Kamusta ka”. Say it out loud a few times. There you go, you just learnt how to ask “how are you?” in Tagalog. Tagalog is a dialect widely spoken and understood throughout the Philippines. Spend an hour familiarising yourself with 5-10 phrases and then enjoy the feeling of speaking to locals in their own language.

7. Accommodation

“Aguluz is a combination of my parents’ names. My father was Augustus and my mother was Luz. After our family moved away from the area, I turned the house into a guest-house,” explained Marilyn, owner of the Donsol guesthouse that we stayed in. Marilyn invited us to share meals with the family and the children practiced their English with us. Staying with a local family really added to our travel experience.

What to pack

Essential travel items include:

• Snorkelling gear - If you’re a water baby, at some point you’re best off investing in a good snorkel and mask.

• Suncream – I’ve found that suncream in Australia is usually about half the price than it is to purchase overseas.

• Hammock – I took my lightweight parachute hammock on the journey and used it constantly.

• Tagalog phrasebook

• 2 pairs of flip-flops. These are the only shoes that I packed.

• A reusable water bottle

• Swimwear and a towel

• Poncho – a very versatile item which can be used to wrap around you and keep you warm, or to sit on

• A sense of humour. This will get you a long way in the Philippines.

“(Surfing) unifies and bridges cultures, beliefs and all ages. To be able to share that joy in nature is pure magic and I think surfing is a beautiful way to play and be connected simultaneously. I’ve made friendships all around the world through surfing and I feel like many of them have become extended family… it’s truly magical.” Pacha Light, professional surfer and environmental activist.

First up, Pacha, what does your name mean? Does it reflect your heritage at all?

Pacha: Yes it does! The name Pacha comes from the Quechua culture in South America, where I was born at home in a small village in the Ecuadorian Andes. My mother was working with the local indigenous Mayor on eco/community projects and learned that the Quechua word for Mother Earth is ‘Pacha mama’ – that seemed right!

Please tell us a little about your upbringing, including the Japanese Sloth Club.

Pacha: My Mum is an environmental activist who has campaigned and supported projects all around the world. That’s how she ended up in the cloud forests of Ecuador, working with local communities to protect their forest – even setting up a permaculture lifestyle project where I spent part of my childhood, living an hour’s walk by dirt road, with no electricity. I remember helping wash my little brother Yani’s cloth nappies by the side of the roaring river and hanging them out on a long line, flapping in the breeze!

Mum went to Japan in the late 1980s to try to save Borneo’s rainforests (that were being used in Japan for things like single use concrete formwork). After about 10 years of frontline campaigning, she rescued a Sloth in Ecuador and shared the story about her encounter. She reflected on why, as humans, we seemed to be so destructive and cruel, while the Sloth was so gentle and harmless – a permanent smile on its face.

Keibo Oiwa (a renowned cultural anthropologist, author and environmentalist) was touched by the story and realised that, even as activists we had the tendency to be so fast and aggressive – easy to burn out – it’s so off-putting (especially) to young people. He came up with the idea of starting a Sloth Club and, along with key anti-nuclear leader, Ryuichi Nakamura – the group was born in 1999. Surprisingly, it became pretty popular.

The Sloth Club in Japan actually led the Slow movement there, with a network of ‘Cafe Slows’ popping up around the country, networking and promoting positive ideas of deep ecology, permaculture, voluntary simplicity and localisation. It was/is a lifestyle shift that people seemed yearning for.

So when I came into the world, my mum was travelling between Ecuador, Japan and Australia, singing and producing music and running projects with international volunteers. I got to meet and be around incredible people and mentors since I was a baby. It has been pretty unconventional – living alone with next to nothing in the forest, to intense tours in concrete jungles like Tokyo with huge, crowded cities – falling asleep to our mother singing every night. We (kind of) settled down in a small beachside town on Australia’s east coast, and my brother and I fell in love with surfing, feeling closer to Mother Earth than ever.

Your surfing career has taken you to some amazing places. Has surfing opened you up to any special encounters with local people?

Pacha: I’m still processing the past 4 years of travelling around the world, meeting inspiring people and beautiful locations, united by the sea and waves. The moments I hold closest to my heart would be learning about the Ama and Haenyeo women divers in Japan and South Korea who have this incredible strength and passion, but also, a love and vulnerability. Most of them still dive well into their 80’s! I got to dive with them and seek wisdom from their hundreds of (collective) years in the sea.

Do you like to try local foods when you’re travelling?

Pacha: For sure! I think eating local foods, especially fermented, not only helps you adjust, but builds your palette and bacteria in your gut. We grew up with the phrase ‘try something 7 times’ before you decide if you don’t like it and I think that’s why Japanese ‘Natto’ (fermented soybeans) are among the favourite food of my brother and I! Being more local wherever you are is better for the environment and the community; knowing where your food comes from and creating more connections and supporting smaller businesses.

Do you feel that surfing allows you to immerse into a local culture?

Pacha: I really think it unifies and bridges cultures, beliefs and all ages. To be able to share that joy in nature is pure magic and I think surfing is a beautiful way to play and be connected simultaneously. I’ve made friendships all around the world through surfing and I feel like many of them have become extended family… it’s truly magical.

Where possible I’ve always tried to ‘give back’ to the places I visit – like bringing extra boards to gift to local communities – that not only supports local kids loving their oceans, but nurtures lifelong connections.

How do you personally feel that surfers could travel better, to be more mindful of local cultures?

Pacha: I think the whole surf world can sometimes become stuck in its little bubble. It’s an incredible sport that the vast majority of people may never get to experience, so to step outside of our own comfort zone and try to travel with an open mind, no expectations, so you can appreciate these special places. It’s those moments where you have to trust in another person and are unsure of what’s going to happen, or when you can’t speak the language – it’s all about being kind and positive and it’s amazing to see the result!

What does slow living (and slow travel) mean to you?

Pacha: It’s pretty crazy to think about because all my life we have been living very simply, moving slowly and really appreciating the small things. However, the past 4 years travelling on the World Qualifying Series and being in a competitive mindset was a whirlwind! I’ve finally been able to stay in one place and have the chance to reflect and begin to transition into a more peaceful state; more time for growing our own food, surfing for the joy and even working out – it’s become my own meditation… to see slow growth and results in contrast of this instant gratification I had gotten used to over the years. I still work as much as I can, but I now have this mellow energy instead of a loud buzz zooming in my head.

Thank you so much for your time and thoughtful responses, Pacha. It’s been a joy to chat with you and to learn more about your upbringing and also your own slow philosophy. You are a remarkable woman!

You can follow Pacha on instagram by clicking here or her Youtube channel (which includes video logs from her Japan journeys) by clicking here.

“My passion for travel is cultivated by experiences. I’m not that interested in visiting a tropical paradise or somewhere steeped in history without aiming to become part of the community. Ideally, I’m there for long enough for the market vendors or the kids kicking a soccer ball at the park to know my story and for me to know theirs.” Luke Della Santa, owner Piece Collectors.

Tell us a little about yourself - the way you travel etc.

LDS: My passion for travel is cultivated by experiences. I’m not that interested in visiting a tropical paradise or somewhere steeped in history without aiming to become part of the community. Ideally, I’m there for long enough for the market vendors or the kids kicking a soccer ball at the park to know my story and for me to know theirs.

I’ve been drawn to the idea of travel and different cultures since I was a about 10 years old. I have two older sisters and a friend of theirs brought back a photo of a Sahdu from India. I remember being so in awe of him, covered in white chalk with hair flowing down to his feet. That led to pouring over the pages of National Geographic, which incidentally sparked my love for photography.

Around the same time as that picture influenced me, my sisters left home to be van-vagabonds. Travel was in our blood. 10 years later, as soon as I finished school, I borrowed their van and travelled the east coast of Australia. Since then, my curiosity for new places, people and cultures has never left.

What does slow travel mean to you?

LDS: I tend to travel long term, 6-12 months at a time, moving slowly through places, spending a minimum of a few weeks or a month in each area. But 'slow travel' doesn’t have to be that. I think it’s possible to take a two week holiday and still travel slowly. It starts with a state of mind, being aware of the place you’re in and making an effort to understand and know the people and culture. To value the conversation with your taxi driver as much as the attraction they’re taking to you. It’s important to have days with nothing planned where you can wander aimlessly, meet people and let those experiences guide your time.

Tell us about your business, Piece Collectors

LDS: Piece Collectors began a year into our travels back in 2014. Em (Luke's partner) and I decided to base ourselves in a small village in Guatemala, to catch our breath after six months of intense backpacking, and simply to slow down, learn Spanish and just be still.

There are so many amazing traditional crafts in Guatemala, and we quickly built strong relationships with many of the local artisans. Getting to know the stories of the artisans, we also came to know their hardships, and so grew a desire not only to share their incredible work back home in Australia but also hopefully provide them with financial support. And so, Piece Collectors was born.

Even when travelling slowly and spending extended time in places, you are still an observer and I have always wanted to be more connected to remote communities. Piece Collectors allows us to break down more barriers being involved in the community and valued as a part of it.

What began as a way to fund our travels has become a fully-fledged business. Last year we based ourselves in Oaxaca, Mexico working on a bespoke collection, combining our own unique designs with traditional craftsmanship. It has been a long journey, but we’re aiming to relaunch the business later this year with an e-commerce store too. We’re passionate about connecting people with the makers of these pieces, because we believe that connection equals value.

Tell us a little about your trip to Chiapas

LDS: A few years ago, one of the ladies who was working for us in Guatemala had mentioned that she could no longer weave due to her bad eyesight, and it sparked an idea. Emily, my amazing partner is an eyewear designer (amongst other things) and reached out to her previous employer who generously donated the reading glasses. We carried these around with us across Mexico and to Guatemala, aligning with various groups to help us distribute them.

Weaving is such a big part of their culture and often a substantial source of income for the women, and it’s crazy to think that something we take for granted, readily available at a newsagent or airport, could impact communities and their ability to work.

The older ladies would put on the glasses upside-down (not knowing how they worked) and all their kids and grandkids would burst out in laughter.

In Chiapas, we are working with a close friend and textile producer. He works with over 120 weavers in villages around San Cristobal de las Casas. We visited each village, starting with one family and always ending the day with half the village turning up to see what the crazy gringos were doing. It was a great experience! I fumbled through my broken Spanish doing small presentations and explaining the testing process. A really beautiful moment that kept repeating itself in each village was when the older ladies would put on the glasses upside-down (not knowing how they worked) and all their kids and grandkids would burst out in laughter. You can read more about it here.

How do you feel that this trip enriched you as a traveller? (Compared to going on a typical tourist holiday to Mexico, drinking margaritas by the pool etc).

LDS: Firstly, I’m a big fan of margaritas. Ha ha!

I think the travel I do allows me to be a sort of anthropologist; I can leave a place and still have those joyfully typical holiday memories we all share of swimming at a beautiful beach or visiting the sites, but I also take away a deeper perspective about how different cultures live day to day and I ultimately realise that people are pretty similar.

Did you learn some Spanish before (or during) your Mexico trip?

LDS: When I left Australia I embarked on 5 weeks of intensive Spanish lessons in Argentina. I was living with a local guy who didn’t speak any English, which was hard because I’m a super social person and rely on my outgoing personality a lot. I kinda became an accidental introvert, changing my perspective of the world as someone who couldn’t confidently communicate. I have continued learning from audiotapes, but mostly chatting with people along the way at every chance I get.

Do you like to sample local food?

LDS: I feel like ALL of my travel is based around food. If someone asks what a place is like, I immediately talk about the food! We are always searching for the best local foods; I try to be as open and adventurous as possible. I can spend entire days wandering food markets sampling each and every stall. I collect herbs and spices as I go and always leave with recipes from local families.

Please share some photos captured during your trips, which have special meaning to you.

LDS:

Armanda making my hat: I am obsessed with hats! I have been since I was a kid. I met Armando working at one of the local markets and we got to talking. He is a third-generation hat maker. The photo was taken after many visits to his stand chatting about hats, food and different cultures. Armando is very inquisitive; he loves hearing about Australia. His wife is a wildlife fanatic and wants to know about all our “crazy” animals and why they’re so dangerous.

After a while, I decided I wanted to learn how to make a hat and Armando invited me to his house to create it. I designed a shape and we decided on materials and then began searching through the piles of felt until I had decided on my colours. It was just such a genuine experience; I went back a few times learning about his artform and family history and came away with a hat that I’ll pass down to my kids one day.

Kids make a camera: During our time in Guatemala, Em and I volunteered at a nutrition centre, Konojel, that provided 60 meals a day to the towns most at risk (7 out of ten children in Guatemala are malnourished).

Quite early on, a position opened up as the Enrichment Program Co-ordinators (basically after-school activities) and they approached us to take over. With limited Spanish and no educational experience, we immersed ourselves into the role, having so much fun coming up with activities for the kids.

This picture was of one of the projects where we collected re-purposed craft supplies from around town and turned them into cameras, coinciding with a photography project I was building. This period of our lives was probably the slowest travel experience we had and remains one of the most important periods of my life.

Thanks, Luke, for your time and thoughtful responses. It's been so great to chat and to learn more about Piece Collectors and also your own style of slow travel and trade.

Follow Luke's personal photography on instagram by clicking here or follow Piece Collectors on insta here (their feed of images is absolutely beautiful), facebook here or check out their website here. And for more about Slow Travel, check out our latest blog posts or subscribe to our newsletter.

I first encountered Joni Sternbach’s work via our mutual friend, Al Mackinnon. I immediately connected with Joni’s portraits, which reflected the vibe of a bygone era; an era that I thought was all but lost in the current age of digital imagery.

What I love the most about Joni’s tintype photography is the amount of time it takes to capture just one image. From setting up her equipment, to capturing the image … and then waiting for it to process, there’s maximum opportunity for Joni to connect with her subject in a way that very few photographers do, these days.

Joni holds a BFA in Photography from the School of Visual Arts and an MA from New York University/International Center of Photography. Her work is included in many public collections. She is the recipient of several grants and prizes including the Clarence John Laughlin award, NYFA and 2nd prize winner in the Taylor Wessing Portrait Prize competition. To see more of Joni’s work, please visit her website.

THANKS FOR YOUR TIME, JONI. PLEASE TELL US A LITTLE ABOUT TINTYPE PHOTOGRAPHY

Tintypes are made with wet plate collodion, one of the earliest photographic methods. Its heyday ran for about 20 years (think digital will last that long?) from 1850-1870 and made the medium reproducible from a negative for the first time. Shooting on tin (direct positive) rather than glass for a negative gave the photographer a couple of advantages. One is that exposure times were shorter (than negatives), making it easier to capture a sharp image, and second was the ability to view the image right after it was shot.

Tintypes are unique, so once washed, dried and varnished, they are complete. Wet plate means everything stays wet from the time the plate is poured, to sensitizing it, to exposure, to development, fix and rinse. If you are shooting outdoors, it’s all done with a portable dark box.

WHAT DREW YOU TO THIS STYLE OF PHOTOGRAPHY?

Wet plate collodion is such a beautiful technique. It’s magical. I first encountered tintypes in 1999, when I took a workshop in upstate NY with John Coffer. John lives a 19th century lifestyle. He built his own cabin and outhouse; he grows his own food on his farm and makes most everything there from scratch. Just taking his workshop is a transformation. You are immediately drawn into the idea of how to be in time in a different way.

However, I loved what John was doing, and the idea of making my own photographs from scratch was something I could relate very well to. I had spent my first year of college in Vermont spinning my own wool, weaving my own cloth and sewing my own clothes. The whole product, from start to finish, made by my own hand. Wet plate was no different. You are immediately drawn into the idea of how to be in time in a different way.

PLEASE SELECT ONE OF YOUR FAVOURITE IMAGES AND TELL US ABOUT IT.

The triptych I shot at Ditch Plains in Montauk has got to be one of my favourites, and one of my hardest! It is difficult enough to create a nearly seamless triptych in photography, and using this process presented a near impossible challenge. The changing light, the models, the environment, and the exposure all move in very different ways, so to get everything to work together perfectly felt fantastic.

HOW LONG DOES IT TAKE TO CAPTURE A PHOTO, FROM THE INITIAL CONCEPT UNTIL THE FINISHED RESULT?

The wet plate process is immediate, like the Polaroid of yesteryear. It is time-consuming, slow photography. The subject is asked to remain in position while I coat the plate and sensitize it (usually about 5 minutes). Once I am ready to shoot, they must remain still in order to be sharp for their long-ish exposure. The entire process is very methodical – from coating the plates to sensitizing them.

HOW DOES TINTYPE CAUSE YOU TO VIEW YOUR SUBJECT DIFFERENTLY THAN IF YOU WERE USING A DIGITAL CAMERA?

In the beginning, I didn’t really choose my subjects, I let them choose me. I set up my camera and my dark box, brought my lunch and sat and waited for something to happen, mostly because I was shy or intimidated. After a while, a surfer came up the beach and asked about my camera. We began to talk, and I asked him if I could photograph him for a project I was working on. I didn’t tell him the project consisted of one photograph. We went in the water, tripod and all. He asked me how he should hold his board and so I suggested some position and he bluntly told me that, “surfers don’t hold their boards that way,”and he proceeded to instruct me on how to photograph a surfer. That was my first lesson in how to take a picture of a surfer and how to let the subject guide our interaction.

WHAT DO YOU LOVE MOST ABOUT TINTYPE PHOTOGRAPHY?

I love the immediacy of the process and the way it messes with time. And the incredibly special people I have encountered along the way.

WHERE CAN PEOPLE PURCHASE / VIEW YOUR WORK?

On my website or instagram, or at Von Lintel Gallery in Los Angeles.

I first encountered Al’s work on instagram, though he was around long before social media, pioneering the cold water surf photography scene. His work has been seen on the covers of numerous high end surf magazines (aka The Surfers Journal, White Horses et al) along with other newspapers and magazines. He’s worked with brands such as Patagonia and Canon, and he was the winner of the XXL Big Wave Award in 2007 for his photograph of Greg Long surfing Dungeons in South Africa. Beyond photography, Al is also a wordsmith and a philosopher. Here, Al shares his thoughts on the state of the photographic world today, including the crossover from film to digital and how slow photography informs his craft.

Thanks for your time, Al. First up; what gear do you like to shoot with?

I believe in the maxim 'the best camera is the one you have on you’ and I try to always have something to hand. My current quiver includes a variety of film and digital cameras and lenses from Canon, Hasselblad medium format film and Leica rangefinders.

All my commissioned work is done on Canon DLSRs and their superb range of lenses. If you want to get the job done there’s no substitute for the Canon 1Dx MK II, it is an exceptionally versatile camera; the build quality, dynamic range, colour depth, ISO, speed, ergonomics and so on enable me to bring my ideas to life. I’m also a big fan of the 7D MK II, it’s like a mini 1DX and the crop sensor is handy for telephoto shots.

I use Aquatech housings in the water, for both film and digital, to my mind they are the best surface (rated to 30ft) housings available; there is no substitute for the level of control the Elite housings offer.

I’ve used Manfrotto and Gitzo gear from day one, Gitzo tripods are peerless. Have just taken delivery of the Gitzo GT2543L legs and GH3382QD head and I already know they will perform without fault in any conditions. First test is Bastille Day in Paris tomorrow. I have also just started using Manfrotto bags and filters too.

For medium format/film I use Sekonic meters and Hi Tech filters and for lighting I use Profoto and Lasolite.

What do you want to express in your photographs?

I suppose photography is a form of communication. I would like to think the viewer gets to see something of me, particularly my enduring love affair, respect and fascination for the world around us. That, in most cases, it is through time spent immersed that one truly sees a place or it inhabitants. Nothing good should ever be rushed, deffo stop to smell the roses, that’s where the magic happens. It would be nice to think that it was all expressed with a little skill and creativity, too.

How do you feel that digital has changed photography?

I think digital has had a mixed influence. It’s made photography far more accessible. I read an article in 2015 that mentioned there were more pictures taken that year (digitally) than in the entire history of photographing on light sensitive substrates. If that is true - and I believe it is - then it is a staggering statistic! The feedback from digital is instantaneous, so learning is expedited and far cheaper than it was with film.

That said, there is a downside: I sense the duality of the internet and digital photography has cheapened the art form somewhat - and fed into this odious instant gratification culture.

The silver lining: digital has enabled me to get pictures I simply wouldn’t have got on film. It’s constantly pushing the boundaries of possibility - and I love the fact that when I’m doing watershots in the depths of winter, water temp 5°c, wind chill -10°c, I no longer have to swim in, pull down the wetsuit, towel myself and housing off, and change film after 36 shots, before getting back out there!

Which photographers have influenced you?

I’ve always admired Ansel Adams’ technical skill and desire for wilderness. Some years ago - when I was printing all my own black and white work - a photographer friend of mine, Simon Horton (keep an eye out for his street photography over the coming years, trust me!) gave me Adam’s technical trilogy ‘The Camera’, ‘The Negative’ and ‘The Print’. I pored over those books for weeks; they helped me better understand the alchemy of silver halide.

Have long LOVED the work of Mary Ellen Mark, Sebastiao Salgado, Yousuf Karsh, Guy Bourdin, Don McCullin, Wayne Levin and latterly Joni Sternbach. In terms of surf photographers, I always admired Ted Grambeau’s varied folio, Jon Franks’s eye and Scott Aichner’s water work was exceptional.

If you could be a photographer in any era, which would it be?

The period of really involved journalism, where photographers could be embedded for months, years even, to produce something really involved and meaningful. I’m thinking about the golden eras of Life, Time and National Geographic; would be good to go back a few years to a time when surfing was less widespread, too!

I have to say, though, that I feel blessed to do what I do now. We are still pioneering surf spots; I’ve named a handful of breaks in the last ten or so years in colder climes, and I’m very fortunate to work with such incredible, environmentally and ethically responsible brands such as Patagonia. Of course, being able to change ISO and shoot both colour and black and white in camera is pretty incredible, I doubt William Henry Fox Talbot or Louis-Jacques-Mandé Daguerre could’ve envisioned that!

Finish this sentence. “If I wasn't a photographer I would be …”

Destitute. Ha ha. Possibly a marine biologist or a florist.

More of Al

Check out Al’s instagram here or facebook here. Thanks for chatting with us, Al!

The goal is for private and public buildings which are no longer used to be transformed into facilities for pilgrims, hikers, tourists, and cyclists.

Italy's department of Infrastructure and transport is giving away 103 run-down castles, farmhouses in remote areas and historic sites, in the hopes of attracting overseas visitors and tourists.

Want to get your hands on one? Here’s the catch: You will need to commit to restoring or renovating the property and turning it into a tourism facility. The incentive is aimed at decentralising tourist overcrowding at popular spots such as Venice, Florence and Rome, Venice and Florence, and promoting regional tourism.

"The project will promote and support the development of the slow tourism sector," Roberto Reggi from the State Property Agency told The Local Italy. "The goal is for private and public buildings which are no longer used to be transformed into facilities for pilgrims, hikers, tourists, and cyclists."

The initiative calls on applicants to submit a proposal outlining how they intend to transform their preferred building into a tourist attraction. Successful applications will then be awarded rights to the property for nine years, with the option to extend for an additional nine years.

There are plans to add another 200 buildings and sites to the list in the next few years.

For more info, check out their Facebook page.

Yasmin Mund is a multiple award-winning photographer and image-maker based in the Eastern Suburbs of Sydney, Australia. She has a background in design and visual communications and calls her work ‘travel art’. She likes to use her work as signifiers of a place – instead of depicting the obvious ‘travel photos’, she wants to remind people of the connection and feelings that they experienced when they were there as well as inspiring people to go somewhere they haven’t been.

Prints are available for purchase via Yasmin’s website or click here to follow Yasmin’s Instagram.

Casablanca, Morocco

SPECS: Canon 6D, 24-70mm 2.8f.
YASMIN SAYS: “I was advised to skip Casablanca as there was ‘nothing to see’. I spent a day here and I do not regret that. It’s such a cosmopolitan city and watching the locals jump off the wall of the Hassan II Mosque is an experience; they put on quite a show. The swell was pumping and these guys were body surfing the waves in after jumping off the wall.”

Marrakesh, Morocco

SPECS: Portra 400, Nikon FM2.
YASMIN SAYS: “I took this on my first day in Marrakesh. The city is, at first, very overwhelming and busy, but soon after that you will be charmed.”

Essaouira, Morocco

SPECS: Canon 6D, 24-70mm 2.8f.
YASMIN SAYS: “As we were walking past, this guy called out to us. He was on the roof of this big factory. As I took his photo, he put his hands out like this!”

Fez, Morocco

SPECS: Canon 6D, 24-70mm 2.8f.
YASMIN SAYS: “This was one of the most memorable meals I had in Morocco. We found a back alley with no tourist restaurants and asked the waiter to bring us what was good today. Here you see all vegetarian dips and lentils and a salad with fresh bread.”

Marrakesh, Morocco

SPECS: Canon 6D, 24-70mm 2.8f.
YASMIN SAYS: “This signage and typography (of these toilets) grabbed me as I walked past – I loved the fact that these guys happened to be hanging by the pay phone.”

Marrakesh, Morocco

SPECS: Canon 6D, 24-70mm 2.8f.
YASMIN SAYS: “This man’s blue eyes caught my attention. It’s something you don’t see often with Moroccan people. He asked me to take his picture and then asked for a kiss afterwards.”

Essaouira, Morocco

SPECS: Canon 6D, 24-70mm 2.8f.
YASMIN SAYS: “This is the local market on a usual day of hustle and bustle. Essaouria is such a great coastal town, filled with life and culture and it still has a great, local feel.”

Lagzira Arch, Sidi Ifni, Morocco

SPECS: Digital Canon 6D.
YASMIN SAYS: “This arch is worth the 3 hour walk from Sidi Ifni. You must go at low tide, but the scenery and treasures you find along the way (and the destination) are totally worth it. We caught a local bus back.”

Sidi Ifni, Morocco

SPECS: Canon 6D, 24-70mm 2.8f.
YASMIN SAYS: “Sidi Ifni is a tiny Spanish colonial town on the coast in south Morocco. It is absolutely gorgeous, painted mostly blue and white. There is one hostel which has been owned by a family for many years. They also have a surf school where you can rent surfboards. This was a photo I saw as I was walking the streets. It was an absolutely picturesque seaside town.”

Chefchaouen, Morocco

SPECS: Canon 6D, 24-70mm 2.8f.
YASMIN SAYS: “Chefchaouen was the reason I visited Morocco. As a photographer, a city in the mountains that was painted entirely blue (my favourite colour) could not be missed. It did not disappoint. Its other name is ‘city in the clouds’, and the reason it’s painted blue is not just because it’s ‘in the sky’, but also to repel mosquitos! If you are in Morocco make an effort to get up to the mountains and visit this small town.”

The Río Guadalquivir in Spain’s south is the artery that flows through the corazón (heart) of Andalucía, ebbing through Córdoba and Sevilla before spilling out into the lungs of the Doñana wetlands. At the river’s mouth lies Sanlúcar de la Barrameda, a town famed for its manzanilla wining and its seafood dining. Wanting to experience these two essential ingredients of Sanlúcar, I went to the source of it all: the marinero district of Bonanza, home of men who spend more time at sea than at land.

The Río Guadalquivir in Spain’s south is the artery that flows through the corazón (heart) of Andalucía, ebbing through Córdoba and Sevilla before spilling out into the lungs of the Doñana wetlands. At the river’s mouth lies Sanlúcar de la Barrameda, a town famed for its manzanilla wining and its seafood dining. Wanting to experience these two essential ingredients of Sanlúcar, I went to the source of it all: the marinero district of Bonanza, home of men who spend more time at sea than at land.

The rederos, too, are at work on the fishing nets, fixing holes and picking out sticks while the boats are out at sea or out of action. Their work is slow in the sun; the men sit down in their net and work hole-by-hole with a little knife through the enormous nets. One of them, Manuel, has been sewing these nets for over thirteen years. Now fifty-seven, Manuel is ready to put down his pocket knife for good, but he worries that, as older folks leave the trade, less and less young ones will fill their holes. “Cada vez hay menos” he repeats – there’s less and less each year in this generational craft. He explains that young kids have a hard time learning the trade. “It’s a shame”, he says, “because this is an art that you can never perfect: there’s always something new to find”. The sun begins to incline and I wander on while the rederos remain seated. So long as they remain, their profession stays alive.

Outside the port’s gates there is a place called La Campana, which proudly (but realistically) claims it is “probably one of the best kitchens in the province”. After enjoying a grilled tuna steak with almond sauce, some pepper merluza and choco al pan frito, I concur that La Campana may very well be one of the best restaurants in town. Sanlúcar, without this rich culinary culture, would be both financially and spiritually poorer.

The plethora of seafood restaurants bring in countless tourists each year from all over Spain, most of them wanting to sample the langostinos, a type of prawn with vivid blue streaks fanning out in its tail.

The langostinos can earn fishermen up to thirty-five euros a kilo, but the value added to the town through tourism and trade is incalculable. The Fishermen’s Guild estimates that for every off-shore job in the fishing industry, another three are generated on terra firma.

When these riches are brought to shore, the port becomes the nucleus of energy in the Bonanza barrio. I stand on the cantil (the unloading platform) as the boats return. Tobacco smoke stings my eyes and gasoline fills my nose as tray-upon-tray of catch is handed over by the fishermen to the port workers.

The men sit and watch, waiting to catch a bargain or a select kilo of the finest. When what they want appears on the conveyor belt and on the screen, they click a little button and the goods are theirs to take. The next day, Sanlúcar will once again enjoy fried pescaito frito with a bottle of manzanilla, brought to them on ice, fresh from the auction.

Tourists who pass through the town and sample its cuisine in some sunny plaza may not appreciate the immense industry invested and effort expended behind-the-scenes.

If you take the time to talk to those who work there, and manage to get a behind-the-scenes look at the trades that sustain the life of the town– be it fishing, viticulture, husbandry or artistry – you will learn far more than you could otherwise.

I learnt that few ordinary men would freely elect to go into the fishing game. As a fisherman named José Antonio told me, a fisherman is born into his profession. And if he is not born into it, he is only there out of sheer necessity. Forty-two years on the water has made José Antonio a peaceful man. His face, framed with a thick set of glasses and a flat cap, is not as weather-beaten as you might expect. Supervising the unloading of the day’s haul he tells me that, despite the intense working conditions and long hours (fifteen-nineteen hours at sea every day – an improvement on the one hundred and twenty hours that used to be spent at sea every week) he has always loved fishing.

My original objective was to board a fishing boat, but because of a public holiday I could not do this. Depsite this, my journey was successful because I achieved what I had really come here to achieve; to talk, listen, observe and learn a little about the lives of these local fishermen. And as any good fisherman will tell you:

Thanks for your time, Tim!

If you’d like to see more of Tim’s work, please click here.

After completing a Masters in Media Arts and Production, Ashley Beer continued to expand her perspective as a travelling film-maker documenting the extraordinary lives of everyday people and places around the world. Trying to keep things minimal, her work is often inspired by nature, human movement and simple yet functional designs. For more of Ashley’s work check out her Instagram.

Cliffs of Moher, County Clare

The magical view of the Atlantic Ocean and the breathtaking Cliffs of Moher will be enough to capture your heart. While most people stand at the top of the open cliffs holding on for dear life, local surfers follow a goat track down to the bottom or travel by jetski from Doolin to meet the wave at the bottom of the cliff. Putting on a spectacular show, they surf waves breaking over 35ft high.

Doolin Cliffs, County Clare

The high wind and small summer swell meant there were no waves to surf. Instead we spent the afternoon adventuring the Doolin cliffs, making the most of the sunshine and jumping into natural rock pools along the fresh Atlantic coast.

Moy Hill, County Clare

Summer showers are always followed by the most magical rainbows. After a day’s hard work in the field, local surfer/farmer and father, Fergal Smith enjoys a moment with his daughter Sunshine up at the country farmhouse on top of the hill.

Moy Hill Community Garden, Country Clare

Moy Hill community garden can be found along the country road behind the small coastal town of Lahinch. The garden is creating a space for people to come and spend time, educating the community on organic growing and sustainable living whilst also offering Friday afternoon cook-ups and small community events for everyone to get involved.

Moy Hill Farm, County Clare, Ireland

Moy Hill farm delivers boxes filled with seasonal vegetables to the local community after the early Friday morning harvest. Every Tuesday, the gates are open and old techniques are used to grow organic produce, to teach people how to do it for themselves and to feed locals with the fresh produce they need.

Lahinch, County Clare

Friendly neighbours enjoying prime real estate where the land meets the sea, living on fields of green with priceless ocean views.

Ennistymon, County Clare

Ennistymon is a small country market town. The local farmers markets are set up on the side of the main street every Saturday morning. The Moy Hill crew can always be found trading goods and chatting to local consumers face-to-face.

The Burren, County Clare

Walking through the karst landscape known as the Burren, Sophie enjoys an afternoon with Conrad, exploring the cracked limestone and diverse rock formations. They complete a two hour walk and visit a local goat farm where doors are wide open serving homemade tea, coffee, scones, goat-cheesecake and more, all by donation only.

Moy Hill, County Clare

Back at the farmhouse we bake a fresh loaf of bread and wait patiently for the freshly picked herbs and teas to dry in the sun room, ready to drink.

Doolin, County Clare

Architecture is one of the most visible features along the Irish countryside. Doonagore Castle is a 16th century tower house overlooking Doolin Point where we spent the windy summer afternoon walking along the cliff and swimming in protected rock pools.

Ester Keate is a Swedish-British photographer born and raised in London. She enjoys nothing more than photographing people whether that is at home, in the studio or while exploring some far flung corner of the earth. As long as she has a camera and someone to point it at she is happy.

Check out more of Ester’s work here: Website Instagram

Yasmin Mund is a multiple award-winning photographer and image-maker based in the Eastern Suburbs of Sydney, Australia. She has a background in design and visual communications and calls her work ‘travel art’. She likes to use her work as signifiers of a place – instead of depicting the obvious ‘travel photos’, she wants to remind people of the connection and feelings that they experienced when they were there as well as inspiring people to go somewhere they haven’t been.

Prints are available for purchase via Yasmin’s website or click here to follow Yasmin’s Instagram.

Taj Mahal, Agra, India

Specs: Kodak 400, Nikon FM2
Yasmin says: “The Taj Mahal is one of the most amazing things I have seen. I lost my shit, shot 6 rolls of film and probably walked around with my mouth open the whole time.”

On the road in Rajasthan, India

Specs: Kodak 400, Nikon FM2
Yasmin says: “We had stopped on the side of the road for fuel or cigarettes for our driver. These two were so eager to talk to us. I asked if I could take their picture and, all of a sudden, she was so serious and her brother became shy.”

Amer, Rajastan, India

Specs: Kodak 400, Nikon FM2
Yasmin says: “An alternative form of transport seen on the roads on India.”

Hampi, Karnataka, India

Specs: Canon 6D, 24-70mm 2.8f
Yasmin says: “Hampi is a place like no other in India and, indeed, the world. It has a landscape of rocky boulders that go for miles in between green vegetation and a lot of temples like this one. It is said to be the inspiration for ‘The Jungle Book’. When you are there, you can just imagine Mowgli swinging from the trees.”

Hampi, Karnataka, India

Specs: Fuji 200, Nikon FM2
Yasmin says: “These antique coins were being sold roadside in Hampi, India.”

Rishikesh, Uttarakhand, India

Specs: Canon 6D, 24-70mm 2.8f
Yasmin says: “This man was one of the most charismatic people I met in India. So loud and hospitable when welcoming people into his temple. I asked to take his photo and he did this pose for me.”

Golconda Fort, Hyderabad, India

Specs: Canon 6D, 24-70mm 2.8f
Yasmin says: “When I look back at the photographs I took at Golconda Fort, they all are archways and doorways. The way the light bounced through made them even more beautiful.”

Palolem Beach, South Goa, India

Specs: Fuji 200, Nikon FM2
Yasmin says: “I saw this photograph happen and was glad I had my camera there to capture it. There are so many dogs on the beach at Palolem, as well as cows and birds. And they all co-exist and sometimes cuddle up together.”

Kurseong, Darjeeling, India

Specs: Canon 6D, 24-70mm 2.8f
Yasmin says: “Heading north east in India was such a different experience. Up in the mountains, everything is green and lush, tall and beautiful. This is in a park at the top of the little hill station town of Kurseong. This gate made me think of the Chronicles of Narnia; a little magical. Kurseong is famous for producing the best tea in the world, the tea that the Queen of England exclusively buys.”

Varanasi, Uttar Pradesh, India

Specs: Canon 6D, 24-70mm 2.8f
Yasmin says: “Everything is done in the holy river Ganges. You pray by it, you wash yourself in it, you play and swim in it, you sail in it, you drink it, you sell your wares by it. If you have buffalo, you also bathe them in it. It is said that scientists are still baffled by how ‘clean’ the water is, considering the amount of pollution that is put into it. After all, it is holy water.”

Yasmin Mund is a multiple award-winning photographer and image-maker based in the Eastern Suburbs of Sydney, Australia. She has a background in design and visual communications and calls her work ‘travel art’. She likes to use her work as signifiers of a place – instead of depicting the obvious ‘travel photos’, she wants to remind people of the connection and feelings that they experienced when they were there as well as inspiring people to go somewhere they haven’t been.

Prints are available for purchase via Yasmin’s website or click here to follow Yasmin’s Instagram.

Cairo Bazaar, Egypt

Specs: Canon 6D, 24-70mm 2.8f
Yasmin says: “These two asked me to take their photograph, so I did. I don’t normally take pictures of people unless they ask. I asked them if they had an email address so I could send it to them, they didn’t.”

Pyramids of Giza, Egypt

Specs: Film: Portra 400, shot on Nikon FM2
Yasmin says: “I could not be happier with how my film shots turned out from Egypt. The colours on the film are superb, it sets it apart from most ‘travel pics’ you see of Egypt. Can you spot the camel?”

Somewhere on the Nile, the world’s longest river

Specs: Canon 6D, 24-70mm 2.8f
Yasmin says: “Floating down the Nile on a felucca was an escape from the dusty hustle and bustle of the cities in Egypt (which I also loved). This was taken at sunset”.

Aswan, Egypt

Specs: Canon 6D, 24-70mm 2.8f
Yasmin says: “A general store, roadside in Aswan, selling dates 5 ways, nuts and spices!”

Cairo Bazaar, Egypt

Specs: Canon 6D, 24-70mm 2.8f
Yasmin says: “Typical Egyptian architecture, complimented by the moon and some afternoon shadows.”

Specs: Canon 6D, 24-70mm 2.8f
Yasmin says: “When I look at this I see what it actually is, the surface of the largest pyramid in Giza – the Pyramid of Khufu. But most people see some type of rocky landscape. I love that. Spot birds? Evidence says the pyramids used to be rendered smooth but now all that is left is this rocky surface.”

Aswan, Egypt

Specs: Canon 6D, 24-70mm 2.8f
Yasmin says: “A little bit of modern Egypt. In summer it gets very hot, so air conditioning is popular.”

Somewhere in the desert between Abu Simbel and Aswan

Specs: Canon 6D, 24-70mm 2.8f
Yasmin says: “Power line towers, looking more like robots that come to life when it’s dark than non-moving towers!”

Cairo Bazaar, Egypt

Specs: Canon 6D, 24-70mm 2.8f
Yasmin says: “Cats in Egypt look like Egyptian Cats.”

The Temple of Isis from Philae (at its current location on Agilkia Island in Lake Nasser).

Specs: Film: Portra 400, shot on Nikon FM2
Yasmin says: “One of my favourite temples I visited in Egypt, it is incredible to be surrounded by such old relics and inscriptions from such an ancient time.”