Late December and early January in Saigon. Looking at these pictures again, I wish – not for the first time – that my Vietnamese was better, so that I could write a little about these people and their stories.
Twinkle
The number 8
Cafe culture
…
The boys in blue
Driving lessons
Cigarette break
Dapper gent
Sandwich lady
Afternoon sun
A bit of a blur
The bamboo bridge in Kompong Cham only exists for half the year. In the wet season it’s destroyed by the rising waters of the Mekong, and then built again from scratch once the rains have stopped in December. This happens every year. I’m going to have to go back to Kompong Cham one December, just so that I can see it being built. The bridge stretches from the town, on the west bank of the Mekong, to the island of Koh Paen in the middle of the river. It’s completely dwarfed by, and rendered almost ludicrous by, the massive new road bridge that arcs over the river’s entire width.
The strangest thing about the bamboo bridge is that you can hear it from a distance. The bamboo poles rattle and creak as pedestrians, bicycles, motorbikes, cars and – alarmingly – great big SUVs travel over it. I chose to cycle over, which was fine so long as I didn’t look left or right, or stop to consider what the hell I was doing. The sound of the bridge is even louder once you are actually on it of course, and you can also feel it moving underneath your wheels, especially when being overtaken by a great big SUV. These vehicles are almost as wide as the bridge itself and, as in all countries of the world, are driven by those blissfully unaware of the existence of other people, so you have to be careful as they pass not to topple over into the water, or impale yourself on bamboo.
Cycling over the bamboo bridge is the sort of experience that I might have avoided in the past, due to my esssential wussiness, but I’m very glad I did it. My only regret is that I made the return journey too soon, and was in the wrong place for sunset. That picture will have to wait for my next visit, but here are some others to be going on with, starting with some morning silhouettes.
After a week in the Mekong Delta in the south of Vietnam, I crossed the border into Cambodia for a slightly different taste of Mekong life, in the riverside towns of Kompong Cham and Kratie, north east of Phnom Penh. One day, I want to travel the length of the Mekong, from southern China all the way down to the delta, with unlimited time and unlimited memory cards. One day. In the meantime, I’ll have to content myself with occasional short trips like this one, in January this year.
Looking at these pictures again today has made me recall some of the other sensations and impressions of the trip that I couldn’t capture on camera: being sunburnt enough to feel a tingle but not so much to hurt; the smell of tobacco plants producing puzzling nostalgic cigarette cravings; long, uncomfortable, oddly enjoyable bus journeys with Khmer pop drowning out the music from my iPod; the pleasant ache in limbs unaccustomed to cycling; happily cancelling out the benefits of said cycling with giant bottles of Angkor beer; confirming my belief that three days in one place is far better than two; unwittingly providing the entertainment by losing my footing in a fishmarket.
Sunday evening was my first time out shooting with a tripod, and my first attempt at long-exposure photography. I mostly shoot on the streets and in markets, often in quite tight spaces where a tripod would weigh me down and get in the way. I like to be able to react quickly and be mobile when I’m out with my camera, so I normally just carry a small shoulder bag containing a DSLR, one or two lenses and a good book. For the kind of shots I usually take, if there is not much available light, I’ll crank up the ISO and/or use my 50mm or 85mm prime lens at a wide aperture, so that I can still hand-hold the camera.
I like to think that I can be spontaneous when I’m taking pictures, but I also recognise that there are times when I need to be more considered, think more and shoot less. And this is why using a tripod was great practice for me. It made me slow down and really think about composition and camera settings for each shot. I didn’t always get it right, but the thinking part was important. Thinking is good.
Overall, I’m quite happy with my first attempts at night-time shooting, though I still have a lot to learn, particularly about getting my focus right. I’m fairly sure that people pictures will remain my favourite kind of photography, and I certainly won’t be taking my tripod with me everywhere I go, but it’s always good to try something new. It’s got me thinking about photography in a slightly different way, so I think it was 800,000 dong well-spent.
The shot above was a 30 second exposure, taken at 6.30, about half an hour after sunset.
Many thanks to my student and new photography buddy Son for his local knowledge and his wheels.
Binh Tay market, Cholon, Saigon.
I’ve not taken many pictures lately – I’ve been lacking inspiration since coming back from my Mekong / Cambodia trip in January. I felt like I was on a roll while I was away, but I seem to have hit a slump since getting back to Saigon. Consequently, I’m a bit behind with my Pictures of the Week – this one’s from the week before last.
With apologies for the terrible pun.
(Vung Tau, 15th Feb)
Water isn’t really my element – I can barely swim – but there’s no getting away from the stuff in the Mekong Delta. I went on a few boat trips during my week there, but taking pictures from a moving boat isn’t easy, especially if you’re a big wuss who’s worried about falling in. The problem with water, a wise man once said, is that it’s wet and it moves around.
The area might be best known for its floating markets, but back on dry land there are plenty of street markets to visit. Wandering around the market in Chau Doc early one morning, I thought to myself, “I could spend all day taking pictures here.” So I did.
My trip coincided with the build-up to the Tet holiday (the Lunar new year, which is the most important holiday in the calendar for Vietnamese people). With two weeks off work, I spent one week travelling through the delta, before taking a boat upriver from Chau Doc into Cambodia for another week. Although I was out of Vietnam for the holiday itself, for weeks before the streets were full of symbols of Tet; red and gold decorations, yellow and orange flowers, and kumquat trees were everywhere.
When I first saw this picture, I thought that a pesky cyclist had ruined a good panning shot. When I saw it again on the big screen, I decided I quite liked it. I’ll just have to pretend that I had it all planned.
Rush hour in Chau Doc is a little quieter than what I’ve become used to in Saigon.
And to finish, a sunset.
(Coming soon: a post or two on Cambodia.)
A week in the Mekong Delta in the build-up to the Tet holiday. A week of friendly people, fresh seafood, very few cars, floating markets and flower-lined streets. A week that wasn’t long enough.
Sunflowers in front of Notre Dame cathedral in central Saigon.
Phnom Penh was the last stop on my Mekong trip. I didn’t take that many pictures on this visit; I was only there for a couple of nights, and I wasn’t quite in the mood for a big city, having spent the previous two weeks in quieter, more relaxing surroundings.
Wat Langka, however, is one of the more tranquil spots in Phnom Penh. It’s not the most spectacular temple in Cambodia, but I like its calm, welcoming atmosphere. It’s hard to tell where the surrounding alleyways end and the temple complex begins. This young monk was standing inside one of the side doors to the main temple, and was perfectly, indirectly lit by the morning sunshine outside.
Without an H 