Fuji GFX50R

Mudgee NSW With The Fuji GFX50R

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I’ve been busy this month tidying up the website and preparing images for print sales when I came across this series I took on a break to Mudgee, NSW my wife and I took last year. This will be a short post, but I thought it was worth sharing some images.

There’s an interesting duality here that sums up modern-day Mudgee: a combination of old and new, of history and modernity.

Mudgee itself, like a lot of regional towns in Australia, has changed a lot in the last ten or so years I was last there. Nearby mining has brought new wealth into the town, which is reflected not only in the housing pricing, but also the abundance of restaurants and eateries. The town itself has also pushed tourism heavily in the last few years, making Mudgee something of a must-eat foodie destination in NSW. The town has not lost its old-school charm, though, and remains the perfect place for a little relaxation.

While that looks like a moon, it was actually a water droplet on the lens of my camera.

Come the weekend, there are always some wonderful classic cars around the town. This GTO was in great condition.

The food. Oh, the food. We ate at the very popular Pipeclay Pumphouse with views of the Robert Stein vineyard. As expected, the food was wonderful with a distinct Australian flavour. Also impressive was the Zin House. Here, everything is sourced from the restaurant garden, which you are invited to walk through with a glass and view. It kind of makes you never want to go back to Sydney.

I should really do a series of all these theatres in regional towns around Australia. The Regent in Mudgee is especially photogenic.

So there you have it. Looking for a break from the big smoke? Mudgee is well worth the trip, especially if you’re looking for a decent feed. Just don’t forget your wallet. More images below.

Regional Queensland With The GFX50R

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Although I haven’t pulled the camera out a great deal this year, an impromptu trip to Queensland with my daughter offered up the opportunity to hit the road. Over three days we drove from the Gold Coast to Toowoomba, cutting across to Kingaroy and back via the coast. While I wasn’t expecting much in the way of images, I was happy with a few and thought it might be nice to talk a little about composition.

I love this image because it sums up Queensland so perfectly. You have the big, blue sky, the same green of the bush and hinterland, and the yellow of the beaches/lifesavers, with a cheeky nod to the more adult activities on the Gold Coast and, of course, Queensland’s fave beer (highly debatable).

As you can see above, I rarely take just one composition of a scene, usually aiming for at least a horizontal and vertical. It can take a while to find the right composition. I’ll often be torn between which to upload to the website, but I think here the landscape orientation works a little better.

My daughter is starting to get into photography, so it’s wonderful to be able to shoot with her and talk the talk, so to speak. She’s becoming quite a good photographer in her own right. We took a few photos around Toowoomba. Having near been there before, I was surprised by the size of the town but also at the beauty of the architecture, especially the famous Empire Theatre.

The Empire Theatre, Toowoomba. Here I was drawn to the shadows at the front of the theatre and particularly liked the way the light was creeping up the bollard at the front. And hey, what’s a theatre without a bit of mystery?

And here is a quite different composition shown in the a window reflection showing a mirror image of the theatre and signage across the street. As always, it’s putting these elements together in a compositionally pleasing way that is the challenge.

Above you can see how I was drawn to these three buildings each built in a different time period. On the right is what I’m thinking in my head putting together the composition in my head, which is for all intents and purposes the rule of thirds. What’s interesting is how it’s not symmetrical. I believe this is because I wanted more highlights on the left to balance the darker tones of the right.

Right next door to the Empire Theatre is the equally beautiful Masonic Hall - a common fixture of most regional towns.

From Toowoomba we headed to Crows Nest, a popular stop given the now famous patisserie, which was sadly closed when we arrived. I did manage to score a variety of rather interesting flavours of soda at the Crows Nest soda shop (musk, anyone?), also taking a moment to check out the local art collective.

It’s a fairly nondescript drive following this to get to Kingaroy, a regional town largely famous for its peanut production. Naturally, we couldn’t resist stopping by the peanut van in town for some salted caramel peanuts, though they have bacon and a ton of other unusual flavours if that’s more your vibe.

I had fallen in love with this parking lot for the town cinema at Kingaroy on Google Maps. Blue skies and the right lighting made it perfect. There’s just something so wonderfully retro about it.

But again, which composition works best? I suppose when I’m composing in camera, I’m always imagining these images printed large and hanging on someone’s wall, which is where I think all the negative space comes into it.

Right in the middle of town are the peanut silos and factory. There’s a golden tower there of some description. I have no idea of its actual function, but I loved the look of it. Even with the right light, however, I could not find a composition that worked, as you can see below (the best I could muster). And sometimes that’s simply the way it goes.

Peanut production, Kingaroy.

Above is another scene I found walking around town. I’m constantly drawn to bright colours and scenes I think sum up towns in a way. Which composition of the three do you prefer?

Or how about this town bakery? Is the composition better with or without the classic green canopy on the right?

How about the scene above? And yes, I know it’s more retro signage, but I cannot resist. To me, while the image on the right has a more simplified geometric feel to it, there’s more compositional complexity on the image on the left thanks to the mirroring shadow at the bottom of the frame. I also think the addition of the tree in the top left is interesting.

Of course, everyone sees things differently, and it’s been fun seeing what my daughter has been able to come up with viewing the same places. There is something about a child’s eyes that is imbued with a natural curiosity and willingness to explore composition that is perhaps lost the older we get and the more visual stimulus we’ve churned through in life.

As for the trip, if you live in Queensland I’d highly suggest hitting the road and exploring some of these regional towns if only to escape the hustle and bustle of the big cities (and that god-awful M1). Thanks for viewing.

South-East Asia With The Fuji GFX50R

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It’s been a long time since I travelled overseas so extensively. Perhaps it was almost fifteen years ago when my wife and I did a whirlwind tour of Europe. There was the pandemic messing with things, sure, and trips to New Zealand and Fiji, but nothing substantial. So it was over Xmas the family and in-laws embarked on a four-week tour of south-east Asia.

A image from the Sanctuary of Truth in Pattaya, Thailand. It’s not a temple per se, but a collaborative ongoing work that is incredible to see just in terms of sheer detail, but it was this gold-leaf tree outside that caught my eye.

Coming into this trip, I was not expecting much in the way of photography. Bar a singular exception, all my photography is shoehorned into family vacations. There’s none of this carefully planning locations and returning multiple times for the perfect light and conditions—not with kids. No, what I do these days is more of a photojournalistic take on things where you simply shoot in the moment with whatever light you have. And make no mistake, there are quality photos to be made in every kind of light and of almost any subject matter.

How do you take an original photo of such an iconic location? That became the ongoing challenge of this trip. This was the exterior of one of the famous Singapore ‘domes’ with the Singapore flyer in the background.

So it is when I’m taking photos on trips like this where we are rushing around and fighting crowds in touristy areas, it can be difficult, but I tried my best to make it work and actually came away quite liking some of these images.

We started with a few days in Singapore, which was hot, of course, and humid, of course, but also rather interesting from a visual standpoint with its mix of Asian and western influences. I personally found getting out to Little India and the old quarter more interesting than Orchard Rd, but Santosa Island was nice and I think the city as a whole definitely warrants further exploration in the future.

Above are images of the Former House of Tan Teng Niah in Little India, Singapore, or simply known on Google Maps as ‘Instagram Location’. I loved this building, especially the image on the far left that looks like it was taken against a green screen. My son also managed to get a very stylish haircut nearby.

Following Singapore we had a two-week cruise around Thailand and Vietnam. We were unable to tender in Koh Samui, which was a bit of a letdown, but we did get off in Pattaya to see the very impressive Sanctuary of Truth, the floating market and so on. Next time, I will remember the golden rule that cash is still king in SE Asia.

I really loved Vietnam—the culture, the food, the myriad of colours… Hoi An in particular, which we only had an hour at, mind, was just a photography dream with its yellow buildings and colourful merchandise. Halong Bay was also extraordinary and definitely gave me flashbacks to James Bond’s The Man With Golden Gun, which I watched endlessly as a kid. Cruising around the bay on a junk was perfection.

As many a frustrated phone user will tell you, it’s very, very hard to get good photos on the popular Singapore Night Zoo tour owing to the very low light. I cranked the GFX up to 6400iso and managed this shot, which reminds of a classical painting.

The old quarter in Hoi An was packed with tourists, but I loved the colours and mix of historic and kitschy new, especially all the plastic that seems so prevalent in Vietnam. The image on the far right is a personal favourite.

We finished up the trip with a few days in Honkers (Hong Kong). My wife and I spent some time in Hong Kong for our honeymoon many years ago, and it was interesting seeing how the city has changed. There’s still a lot of older buildings and traditional Hong Kong fare in Kowloon, but there’s also a lot of modernity and change as well.

Usually I take my camera with me everywhere, but I decided on our daytrip to Hong Kong Disneyland to leave it at home and just enjoy the moment with the kids. I’m glad I did. It would have been a nightmare figuring out what to do with the camera bag all day.

While everyone was busy shooting out over at the city at The Peak in Hong Kong, I turned my camera in the opposite direction. I suppose it was also something of a dynamic-range test.

When our ship docked early in the morning at Hong Kong there was this lingering fog and a sole building lit up for NYE. It had a very Bladerunner-like feel to it.

I still love shooting with the Fuji GFX50R and my staple now of the 45-100mm F4. I actually ran a quick test in Camera RAW that determined my most used focal length on the last few trips I’ve done is actually 100mm, which in 35mm terms is around 80mm, so slightly telephoto. I suppose I do tend to zoom in to subjects to eliminate clutter and narrow down a composition, but it was an interesting discovery. In fact, 95% of my shots were at this focal length. The remaining 5% were almost exclusively shot at the other end, wide. I had been hoping this conclusion might have led me to a lighter prime lens in the GF lineup, but alas, there’s nothing light about tele primes, so the zoom will remain.

While I was in Hoi An in Vietnam I actually bumped into a photographer shooting with a Mamiya RB67 on a tripod, also with his family. Hats off to him. He must have an awfully patient wife, but it did get me thinking about pulling out the Mamiya again and giving it another go.

As for the title of this series, we had a tour guide in Vietnam (Phat) who called himself ‘Sticky Rice’. This made it easy for him to collect his group because he simply had to shout ‘Sticky rice!’, ‘Sticky rice!’ and everyone in the group would follow, sticking close, so to speak. He was so enthusiastic, so generous, particularly with my son (who can be a lot ), that If I remember nothing else, I’ll always remember Sticky Rice.

My favoruite image from the trip was taken just after sunrise looking out our Hong Kong hotel window over Kowloon. There was this soft light over the city, but it was hitting the material covering this building beatifully. It was kind of floating and shifting in this light and breeze, and looked so completely peaceful and organic in the otherwise squared and angular constraints of the city I had to take a shot or two. It still amazes me they use bamboo as scaffolding for skyscrapers like this, but sometimes natural really is best.

After all of it, I was thankful to touch down back home in Sydney, Australia. As to where my next photo excursion will be, I have no idea. I think I’m all travelled out for a while, so perhaps something closer to home. I would love to get to Karijini, even Iceland, so let’s see, but in a sense I think I also need some distance from photography for a while.

As always, thank you for reading my drivel. You can check out the full gallery of images here, or scroll down for the images that didn’t make it. There are a few. Cheers.

Skiing At Charlotte's Pass With The Fuji GFX50R

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It’s a bit of a family tradition on my wife’s side of the family to journey to Charlotte’s Pass every year. Located in the alpine region of New South Wales, Charlotte’s Pass is Australia’s highest ski resort, a small village that is snowbound during winter. Finally, with COVID well in the rear-view now, we headed down to check it out.

A ICM image of snow drifts coming through looking over the valley towards Australia’s highest ‘mountain’, Mt Kosciusko. I like the painterly quality here and sense of movement.

I knew from the outset this would be a challenging trip photographically. The village of Charlotte’s Pass is very small, every building a muted shade of brown, green or grey, with not much colour to be found. But there’s also fun in the challenge, and once again, light hunting became my go-to.

Many ski resorts in Australia closed early this season because of a lack of snow (a lot of people are amazed we do, in fact, have ski resorts at all), but we were lucky to receive a good dumping of white stuff before we arrived, which lasted out the week.

Above are a series of images of trail markers used to show where obstacles lie on ski runs. I became a bit obsessed with the way they contrasted with the blanketed snow around them. They became a fixture of my more minimal images.

Likewise, I had hoped to get some images on the way to the village via oversnow transport. However, it was sleeting/windy and the cat itself was moving faster than I had anticipated. Still, I took this rapid-fire series of shots below hoping to get the right amount of movement and really emphasize the conditions. You can see this creek became increasingly clearer as we got closer, but I prefer the original image with movement and blur.

We stayed at TarGanGil Lodge in Charlotte’s Pass. I’d highly recommend it, not only because it’s the closest lodge to the charlift, but the food was nothing short of amazing. And I’m a pretty harsh critic. The kids also had a blast with the lodge guests and the fact you never really had to queue to get on a chairlift or T-bar, as Charlotte’s only allows a fixed number of visitors at any one time.

The two images below were taken in our room at the lodge. It had the most beautiful morning and afternoon light. I’m sure most Australians my age are familiar with the blanket on the left. They were a permanent fixture of every grandmother’s house in the seventies and eighties, horribly scratchy but always warm. They also remind me of childhood ski trips, of escapism. The way the light cut across the quilt was perfection—or at least to me.

This image was taken at the ski-tube trerminal at Perisher Valley. There is, and always has been, something kitsch about ski resorts in Australia. They feel like a time capsule of sorts, perpetually stuck in the past. I thought the colours and poster here perfectlly summed that up.

As always, I found myself smiling looking over the RAW files out of the GFX50R. I’ve had it a long time now and it has never disappointed. It’s that bridge between film and digital I’ve always been looking for. It simply works. One of the images I’ve posted was actually taken with my old Samsung S20 and upsized in Photoshop using Super Enhance, as I couldn’t let it pass.

Next year is shaping up to be very interesting photographically. I’m looking to knock off two of my bucket list destinations: Iceland and Karijini National Park, as well as keep my ICM series of Sydney going. I’ll also be working on creating a print shop for people to purchase my work, as I believe so many images here would make excellent wall art, especially the more minimally inclined.

All in all, it was a successful trip, though I’m not sure my body agrees. Skiing doesn’t seem as easy these days. Head here for the full gallery, or check out some of shots that didn’t make it below.

Ghostland: New Zealand's North Island With The Fuji GFX50R

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Three years ago my friend and I planned a trip to do the Tongariro Crossing on New Zealand’s North Island. Often hailed as one of the best day walks in the world, this had been on my bucket list for a long time. I’d seen photos of the Emerald lakes and ‘Mt Doom’, wanted nothing more than to do a bit of hiking and capture some creative images of this unique environ.

I’ve had this image of Mount Ngauruhoe in my mind’s eye for a long time. It was nice to finally tick it off on the Tongariro Crossing.

We were packing, getting ready to go and… COVID. Right before we were about to leave, the world went into lockdown. So it is we finally got to make the trip, cutting it down to just the North Island for a span of a week, moving from the Tongariro National Park to Napier and then down to Wellington and Cape Palliser.

I’ve titled this series of images ‘Ghostland’. Walking around New Zealand I was struck by the prevalence of vaping. You’d be walking along a city street and these puffs of vape would cloud out into the sky from a car window or a walker-by. ‘It’s like a land of ghosts’, I thought to myself. This is something that became true in more ways than one as I both took photos and visited these locations I’d so longed for in my head.

The moonlike landscape of the Tongariro Crossing in New Zealand’s North Island. We couldn’t have asked for better weather.

Mead’s Wall via Whakapapa Village.

This also marks the first time I see a real narrative or theme in my images. There’s a sense of isolation in them, of an alien world, of the ‘other’. New Zealand is the land of the long white cloud, and it’s this constant shifting cloud in the sky, the moving mists and waters, that remind of me of my birthplace.

But there are also ghosts of a symbolic kind at work, of ancestors and broken ties between the natural and urban world, on the effects of climate change and the pandemic on the country. We drove through parts of New Zealand that were only weeks prior ravaged by flooding and landslides, homes upturned and rail lines twisted as if chicken wire.

The Emerald Lakes on the Tongariro Crossing. It’s not the image I had in mind, but I’m happy with it nonetheless.

The focal point of this trip was the Tongariro National Park, located a couple of hours from Auckland and about as picturesque a place as you could imagine. The peaks of Mt Ruapehu and co were obscured in cloud when we arrived and remained that way for our three days in the park, finally showing themselves the morning we departed.

We stayed at Tongariro Discovery Lodge. I’d originally chosen the Discovery Lodge as they offered the first shuttle of the day to the crossing, which allows for you to walk as the sun’s coming up and, more importantly, beat the crowds. The accommodation itself was great, the staff friendly—couldn’t have asked for more.

The same goes for the day of the crossing. We really got absolutely ideal conditions for the Tongariro Crossing itself, with temperate weather, low winds and little cloud. Given the next day was a complete wash-out of driving rain and wind, I’m lucky we opted for the day we did.

Hiking up in twilight, with the moon rising, was the perfect way to do the crossing.

I like negative space, apparently, and like most areas of my photography in recent years, I’ve come to embrace it.

The walk really lives up to its reputation. You start off in scrubby lowland and make your way past the twin peaks of Mt. Tongariro and Mt. Ngauruhoe. Starting in darkness meant the landscape was slowly revealed as we moved along, the moon setting as we made our way up the ridge towards the topmost point of the crossing looking down over the famous Emerald Lakes.

We reached this point at sunrise. The clouds were inverted and the lakes gleaming—It was quite the sight, though I did struggle finding any kind of meaningful composition. In fact, it wasn’t the lakes that ended up being the highlight but the barren, alien landscape before and after. We actually came up with this fictional character while walking we named ‘volcano man’ who creeps out from under the cover of darkness to snatch away stray hikers. Sadly, I don’t think it’s going to be a Hollywood blockbuster anytime soon.

After a dicey descent we dubbed ‘the slide’, we made it across to Blue Lake, which actually reminded me a lot the Blue Lake of the same name on the Main Range walk in Kosciusko National Park we did a year ago. We had lunch here and I was pretty taken by the absolute silence of the place. It was so calm—just the odd bit of breeze moving across the lake’s surface.

What follows from here is the long, long, long descent to the end of the crossing. I knew this was coming, but it did seem rather never-ending. It was a strange sensation descending slowly through the cloud back down to earth, so to speak.

Snow-making machines at Whakapapa Ski Resort.

In Tongariro we also spent some time heading up to Mead’s Wall via the Whakapapa ski resort. I believe this was one of the filming locations for Lord of the Rings. The ski resort was completely empty. It was so eerie seeing all this new equipment, this entire village and yet no one around. There were no cars, no nothing. This was another ghost-town moment, echoed by the fact so many restaurants, cafes and shops I’d noted down in the original itinerary hadn’t survived COVID. Even the mighty Chateau Tongariro has shut up shop, now bordered up and inaccessible.

What we did get up there was this spectacular sunset with the mist sweeping past us. We actually returned the day after the crossing when it was raining. You’ll notice a few shots of these snow canons used by the resort for snowmaking. They were all lined up in places and looking so alien and abstract I had to shoot them. When the rain became too heavy, I’d shoot through the windscreen once more channeling Todd Hido. As I mentioned, it doesn’t matter what the weather is, photos can be made.

Above are images from a nearby caravan park we drove through. I love these images because they incorporate so many quintessentially New Zealand elements, from the colored clothes pegs to the hills in the background, the long clouds, even the color of the grass.

From Tongariro we headed across to Napier. This coastal city is big on art deco. You might say it’s Napier’s ‘thing’. There were two cruise ships in when we arrived, which created a nice buzz in town. Until recently the flooding and general devastation had put a stop to tourism, so I’m sure the locals were excited to see things slowly getting back to normal.

We had a fantastic meal at Craggy Range Restaurant and journeyed out a bit for New Zealand’s best chocolate éclair (read: pretty much the size of my head) at Ohakune. We had intended to walk the coast to Cape Kidnappers, famous for its garnet colony, but couldn’t get the timing with the tides right. It wasn’t to be.

Napier, New Zealand. It pays to be ready for moments like this. It took some scrambling on the sidewalk, but I managed to place myself just in time to get this ‘cloud flag’ image of one of Napier’s many art deco buildings.

An abstract of a popular pagoda-type installation near the Napier shoreline. I only took a few frames, but I like the way the angles and shadows have worked in balance in this one.

We arrived in Wellington the following day and had another wonderful meal, this time at Rita. We both remarked how much the city of Wellington at large reminded us of San Francisco. The area we were staying in, Breaker Bay, was beautiful and just far enough from the city itself to feel like you were somewhere else entirely. I enjoyed a productive morning getting up for sunrise and copping one of New Zealand’s classic eye-poppers lighting up the sky, as seen below. I think this was the only time I used the tripod on the entire trip.

The day before we were due to leave we made the one-and-a-half hour (quite scenic) drive to Cape Palliser from Wellington. We had obligations back in Wellington, so we were never going to have long at the Cape per se. We jumped out of the car, I snapped a few frames and we made our way up the 258-odd steps to the top and back in the space of ten minutes. After the Tongariro Crossing and our crisscrossing of hilly Te Mata Peak back in Hastings, it didn’t seem that taxing. I had hoped for some interesting compositions of the famous tractors on the beach at Ngawi, but walking around them it wasn’t at all what I expected. I was a little disheartened on the way back we’d made this big drive for essentially nothing photographic, but going through the shots at home, one stood out…

I only took a few frames of the Cape Palliser lighthouse, but I like the way the cloud sits low and to the left here. Together with the staircase, it adds a nice sense of scale. It might feel criminal to convert this to black and white given the lighthouse’s patent white-and-red striping, but sometimes you have to go against what might be considered traditionally correct.

Once again, working with the Fuji GFX50R was wonderful. I was watching a video by Kyle McDougall recently where he talked about his decision to go with the GFX50R, and so much of it mirrored my own choice. I think it’s that perfect film-to-digital bridge. As Kyle shows, you can get very, very close results between the two, but for me it’s the ease of use, the deep editing latitude in the files and that medium-format (kind of) X-factor that makes even the mundane scenes I love so much come to life.

I used the GF45-100mm F4L OIS exclusively for this trip. It covers the exact focal range I need, from wide to slightly tele. Do I wish it was more compact? Sure. In fact, I’ve been eyeing off the 50mm pancake lens for a trip later this year where weight might be a concern, so we shall see.

These are the shots I seek out now. I’m looking for quirks of light, little pockets of it that raise questions. I can’t recall whether the shadow was a friend or a passer-by, and I like the mystery this adds.

Another example of how my photography has changed. This imported van, a common sight in New Zealand with that particular tint, was obscured by the bushes, but the camera’s gaze is voyeuristic too. You wonder what is past the van, what are they doing? The unseen.

When I arrived home, I wasn’t sure I had ‘gold’, so to speak, with these images. But once I started editing, I started to appreciate the darker side of some of these scenes, leaning into the low light or extreme minimalism.

I started to realize I’ve come a long way. Once upon a time, I would have used a tripod for every shot, matched levels perfectly in Photoshop to ensure nothing was too dark or underexposed. Now I process for mood rather than what is technically correct. I’m no longer scared of odd lighting conditions. In fact, I actively seek them out.

I also seek out compositions and subjects I know will not appeal to the masses. That might be rain crossing a car window or a blurry hill, but they speak to me. In doing so, I know they will speak to others, that my photography will find a place. Not everyone has to enjoy or ‘get’ it.

There is also duality in some of these images, like those pictured above of the two trees outside our accommodation near Hastings. This is an aspect of my photography I’m going to continue to push in coming trips.

Looking through these images, I’m pleased they raise questions. I want them to make people think and scratch their heads a little. There are photos here shot simply for the sake of composition, sure, but I hope you might see the deeper narrative at play.

Enough of this arty jibber-jabber then. Enjoy the photos. You can find the full gallery here or scroll down for the shots that didn’t make it.

Road Trip To Tumut: Regional NSW Landscape Photography With The Fuji GFX50R

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Recently, we headed away on a family road trip through regional NSW to the snowy mountains town of Tumut in New South Wales (In truth I was on a hunt for cherry pie…). At first it seemed the extensive flooding would put a dampener on plans, but we ended up with all kinds of weather. As is typical for these family trips, sometimes photography has to take a back seat, but I did come away with some interesting images.

It’s always best to take the scenic route to a destination, even if it adds an hour or so. I’m not sure if we were too late or too early for canola season, but I actually like the way it turned this field into a gradient owing to the patchy light.

Once again I used the Fuji GFX50R medium-format camera and the GF45-100 f4 OIS lens, a combo that has been serving me well. I used the GFX earlier this year for two weddings, and apart from a bit of sluggish AF on occasion, it worked perfectly well. In fact, looking at the files side by side with my friend’s full-frame Sony, which was also used on the day, the GFX files had so much more character and depth to them.

This was also a good test for the ruggedness of the GFX. At one stage I had it out in torrential rain, through caves, rivers, hiking up a cliff… It’s nice to know it can stand up to that kind of treatment (abuse?).

The night comes in at Blowering Dam about 15 minutes drive from Tumut. The dam was actually spilling, which I’m told is fairly rare, but we’ve had extraordinary amounts of rain this year in NSW. I was drawn to the clouds here.

We really packed it into this trip. We hiked to the thermal pool at Yarangobilly Caves, a pleasant 28 degrees Celsius. My son (8) and I also made the walk up to Blowering Cliffs, the waterfall pumping after all the rain we’ve had. We had an amazing meal at Three Blue Ducks Nimbo Fork, where my son told the chef it was the best meal he’d ever had. We checked out Batlow and came away with apples the size of mini bowling balls. We walked, drove, ate… There’s so much to do in an area most people simply pass through on their way to the ski fields.

This is a lamp reflecting light on a bedroom wall at our Airbnb. I’ve spoken about how I’ve become obsessed with minimalism and light. I look for it everywhere, even in the least-obvious places. I like the way the light made the wall look almost 3D, as if something was pressing it out like fabric.

I’ve really started to establish a common theme in my work. I know what I’m looking for these days, which is usually a combination of light, visual interest or minimalism. I tend to mix this with interesting skies I see, but what I’m really looking for is something out of the ordinary, be it some link to Australian nostalgia, or an interesting play of light on a common subject. People often think I’m crazy when they see what I’m shooting, but I am doing so with purpose. I usually start off a trip like this is a nervous state until I take my first shot or keeper. Once I have a couple in the bag, I tend to relax. Once my bag is full, so to speak, I get lazy. So it goes.

I had a strange hankering for cherry pie—strange given I don’t actually like cherries. So, we drove through the town of Young, which is the cherry capital of Australia. I finally got my pie at Wilders Bakery and it did not disappoint.

Something else I’ve started to do in these towns is head out for a long, extended walk during the early morning or late afternoon. I had not considered how hilly the town of Tumut is, so it made for quite the workout. The GFX handled the wide dynamic range at this time extremely well. You can lift shadows from near pure darkness if needs be. It’s a great way to explore a town and more or less have it all to yourself.

Heading into 2023, I’m excited about some potential photo trips now COVID is waning. Already on the cards is a long-anticipated trip back to New Zealand, another to the deep ski fields of Australia, as well as a trip to the US and also Karijini, deep within Western Australia. Keep an eye on the blog for everything. You can see the full gallery from the Tumut road trip by clicking here.

From an early morning walk near the river in Tumut. I just love the way the light was working with this particular house.

We had to polish off the trip with a stop at the Long Track Pantry in Jugiong for a cheese toastie. I couldn’t resist this shot of the rooster, the jet trail and this lone bird.

Uluru & The Red Centre With The Fuji GFX50R

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For a very, very long time I’ve been meaning to get out to Uluru, the red heart of Australia, for photography. Prior to this trip the closest I’d been to the Outback was Silverton, which any real Australian will tell you is not the real Outback at all.

Although I generally steer towards more abstract imagery these days, I couldn’t resist this famous view. It really is a sight to watch the Rock glow at sunset. This was from Uluru Lookout not far from Yulara.

The first thing that strikes you is the rich, ochre red colour of the earth. It’s quite remarkable and alien at the same time. The two big attractions are, of course, Uluru itself, or Ayers Rock, and Kata-Tjuta. Apart from the resort town of Yulara, where we were based… that’s about it out there unless you want to venture to Kings Canyon or further afield.

Rich in iron, the soil and colours around Kata-Tjuta, here at Walpa Gorge, are incredible and completely alien.

I also spent a while walking around our resort looking for shapes and colours, anything of interest. I was really drawn to this simple scene and it has become of my personal faves from the trip.

Apart from photography, I’d booked a bunch of tours for the family, and we spent a lot of time at the free activities offered by the resort (Sails In The Desert). The kids picked up a lot of information, as did I, and we found the resort a great place to be in general, with great food and facilities.

Unable to hire a car, owing to myself not realizing how damn busy the place gets, I had to work my photography around bus tours, which actually worked out well. What I hadn’t planned on was rain and cold, which is what we got the first day at Walpa Gorge, but it actually made for very abstract photos where I could blow out the sky and concentrate on the rock formations much like I did many years ago at the Remarkables on Kangaroo Island.

Closed for a few years now, you can still clearly see evidence of the walking trail to the top of Uluru on the rockface.

Throughout the trip I was conscious of the sacred areas of the Anangu people where photography is discouraged. This includes the whole back side of Uluru and the entire Valley of the Winds walk, which I did with my eight-year-old son later in the week. That said, there is no shortage of compositions, though I found I did have to look harder than I normally would to find something unique in a place that has been photographed perhaps millions of times.

After a few days of rain and cold, it was great to see the sun come out at Uluru. These days I pay much more attention to shadow, giving it equal importance. Here, the light cuts the frame into three distinct sections.

I love to find images that blend man-made with the natural world these days, whether they’re working for or against. This a very Aussie pairing.

As I do, I also spent some time wandering around the resort looking for interesting light and shapes, and these were actually among some of my favourites. I’ve also become increasingly interested in the relationship between man and nature, and Uluru is a perfect example of these two working at times both for and against one another.

Once again the GF50R made life very easy. I generally left it on Auto ISO and actually shot a wedding with the camera prior to this trip, which confirms it’s a camera that really can do it all. I only took one lens, the GF45-100mm F4, which is all I really needed, offering both a wide and slight tele when required. The files have come out rich and full of detail, most of which is sadly lost in web viewing.

I’ve been eyeing off this weathered tree in Walpa Gorge for years. It was great to finally tick this shot off my bucket list.

Uluru really changes depending on the time of day and lighting. Here you can see the sun is just starting to emerge.

This waterhole is a popular tourist site, but it’s also oddly meditative, as is most of Uluru.

If you are looking for something different, I highly recommend a trip out to the Northern Territory. Five days is about perfect to see everything, with flights running from most major cities daily. I was also lucky enough to do some aerial photography over Lake Amadeus while we were there. You can read all about that here.

For the full gallery of Uluru images, head here.

The sun almost setting on an Australian icon. But five minutes later…

…the sky had turned into this. It was a wonderful end to a eventful trip, even with kids.