Search Results

“Seriously man, what are you wearing?” My friend Fernando was jacket shaming me in the Valencia arrivals hall, not-so-subtly pointing out how hot it was. “What is wrong with you?!” With mock indignation I removed my jacket – and then proceeded to sweat profusely anyway. < Back Viva Valencia Sunday Star-Times 29 Nov 2025 “Seriously man, what are you wearing?” My friend Fernando was jacket shaming me in the Valencia arrivals hall, not-so-subtly pointing out how hot it was. “What is wrong with you?!” With mock indignation I removed my jacket – and then proceeded to sweat profusely anyway. It’s been nearly 20 years since 25,000 New Zealanders came through the same arrivals hall, enduring the Valencian humidity during the 2007 Americas Cup. After the cup moved on most Kiwis didn’t hear much about Valencia – that is, until last October’s devastating flood. In a city that has over 300 days of sunshine a year the speed of the rising floodwaters came as a shock, leaving over 230 dead and billions of euros worth of damage. It wasn’t the first time either: in 1957 the Turia River flooded so badly that the Franco government permanently rerouted the river three kilometres away from its original course. The Turia’s old riverbed was the starting point for my exploration. Now a sunken verdant park in the centre of the city, the 9km long Jardín del Turia is full of trees, running tracks, fountains, a football pitch and – most impressively – an oversized climbing structure that when viewed from above is a giant Gulliver pinned to the ground, sword and hat beside him, with Lilliputians (actually, humans) climbing all over him. Jardín del Turia is not only a living breathing artery, it’s also a direct path to Valencia’s top attraction: Ciutat de les Arts i les Ciències (City of Arts and Sciences). Designed by Valencian architect Santiago Calatrava the stunning futuristic complex is considered one of the 12 Treasures of Spain, up there with La Sagrada Família and the Guggenheim Museum Bilbao. Fernando looked at me looking in awe as we walked through the whale-like spine of the interactive Museu de les Ciències, while behind us stood L'Oceanogràfic, the largest aquarium in Europe. The star of the complex is without a doubt the spectacular L'Hemisfèric – a building ‘made whole’ as a huge human eye when reflected in its surrounding pond. I half expected to see Westworld’s Charlotte Hale step out of the Delos headquarters (IYKYK). My modernist bucket filled, we made our way back to the Juliet balconies and ornate doors of the old town, Ciutat Vella. In medieval times it was surrounded by the Muralla Cristiana (the Christian Wall) and only two of the original 14th century gates still stand, one being Torres de Serranos. Initially built to defend Valencia from siege, over the years it has been a prison for knights and nobles, hosted official ceremonies for Kings, and even protected artworks during the Spanish Civil War. I paid the princely sum of €2 and climbed to the parapets for a panoramic view of the Valencia’s Gothic, Romanesque and Neoclassical architecture. The old town’s one-way streets below were extremely walkable if somewhat deceptive. “If it’s big enough for a car, expect a car,” advised my friend Sarah, as we shared what looked like wide footpaths with e-scooters, Segways, and electric Peugeots. “Look, see that?” she said, pointing to a manhole cover. “There, above the crown…”. The shape of a bat, wings spread, sat atop Valencia’s coat of arms, stamped into the cast iron cover. Legend has it that in 1238 a noisy bat awoke King Juame 1, warning him of a surprise enemy attack and giving him time to defeat the Moorish invaders. Despite the interesting history lesson it was the odour emanating from below that caught my attention. My hosts, both in olfactory denial, had obviously got used to Valencia’s sewerage smell long ago, but ‘Spain drain’ is real and the city’s antiquated pipes are particularly pungent during humid weather. Not that it was putting off any tourists; the clacking of suitcases across cobblestones only stopped when visitors paused to admire the street art in front of them. An urban canvas of walls, shutters and roller doors, Valencia’s El Carmen neighbourhood is an eclectic mix of graffiti by taggers such as Deih, Hyuro and Xelon. David de Limón’s masked ninja peaks out from behind lamp posts, while Disneylexya’s large scale Latin-American illustrations cover entire walls. Urban art is such an integral part of the city that the contemporary gallery Centre del Carme is holding an exhibition on its origins. Art has long been part of Valencia and nowhere more so than Iglesia de San Nicolás de Bari y San Pedro Mártir de Valencia, or San Nicolás for short. Having pre-purchased tickets to this 750-year-old church we didn’t have to wait long before picking up our audio guides. And then we looked up. Nicknamed the ‘Sistine Chapel of Valencia’, San Nicolás’ ribbed-vault ceiling is simply magnificent. Painted in Baroque frescoes that stretch all the way from the altar to the baptismal font, depictions of archangels, saints, apostles, and cherubs look down upon the headphone-wearing visitors below. Like many a historic site San Nicolás is using 21 st technology to introduce a new generation to its attractions. We stayed for La Luz de San Nicolás, an immersive video show that transforms the Gothic architecture with beams of light, projects heavenly flowers across the frescoes, and fills the nave with divine ethereal music. Impressive as it was, Fernando wasn’t sure that the already beautiful church needed it. Three short blocks away was a more traditional slice of Valencia, the Mercat Central. Like Barcelona, Valencia has its own language – Valencian – and here a market is not a ‘mercado’ but a ‘mercat’ and there is none bigger than the Mercat Central. Pescaderos (fish mongers), fruiters (green grocers), and pastissers (sweet sellers) all have their sections but it is the charcutiers who are the busiest. Under hanging legs of jamón ibérico, Jose Vicente was handing over prime cuts accompanied by local cheeses, catering to customers ducking in during the siesta. Ahhh the siesta. Valencia still honours the afternoon rest period although not for sleeping these days, with the majority of small-to-mid-size shops closing between 2-5pm then reopening until 8pm. Even the shops that don’t have split shifts remain open late, before the al fresco restaurants start filling up quickly for dinner. As you’d expect for the birthplace of paella, food holds a special place here – Valencians eat five times a day – so it was only right that we went to one of Fernando’s favourite eateries, Kiosko La Pérgola. Perched up on barstools we ordered two large bocadillos, half and half sandwiches of beef tenderloin, ham, cheese, tomato, bacon and salsa verde, which were promptly cut in half again giving us eight minis. Eating over the hum of the kitchen, we watched servers enthusiastically leaning out to talk to locals and visitors alike. Unlike other Spanish destinations, visitors are welcome here (side eye emoji to Barcelona), and although Valencia is the country’s third biggest city at no stage did it feel overcrowded with tourists. Even the Line 3 metro back to the Aeroporto was busy but not packed with travellers. In the departures hall I hugged my tour guide farewell, thanking him for showing me the best of Valencia. It was time to put on my jacket again. Original publication: The Post < Previous Next >

"Um, aren’t we a little low?!” shouted my fellow passenger over the Cessna’s engine. She was right of course, we were only 50 metres above the ground and below us impala were scattering everywhere. “No, of course not,” I reassured her while secretly enjoying a personal ‘Out of Africa’ moment as she gripped the armrest. < Back Kenya's Lion Warriors New Zealand Herald 11 Dec 2018 "Um, aren’t we a little low?!” shouted my fellow passenger over the Cessna’s engine. She was right of course, we were only 50 metres above the ground and below us impala were scattering everywhere. “No, of course not,” I reassured her while secretly enjoying a personal ‘Out of Africa’ moment as she gripped the armrest. We were half an hour out from Samburu airstrip in central Kenya, a wee spot on the map just inches above the equator, and the entry point to Samburu National Reserve. The landing wasn’t pleasant. My fellow passenger gave me a pained smile as she mumbled off the plane. Unlike her, I wasn’t there to go on safari; it was the guardians of the animals who interested me. “Super!” came the crisp New England welcome from behind a beige Land Rover. Strolling towards me was Tina Ramme, a Professor in Biology who tracks nomadic male lions for six months of the year and lectures at Harvard the other six. (I later learned she was actually saying ‘ su pa ’ which is ‘hi’ in Samburu language, as opposed to being really happy to meet me). Strapping myself in, we bumped our way across the east African wilderness, passing through the reserve – an unexpected safari of elephants, giraffes, baboons and ostriches. Exiting the park, a small plaque caught my eye: “In memory of Elsa, who helped safeguard this game reserve”. “You’ve heard of Elsa, right?” Tina asked. Elsa the Lioness was a young orphaned cub, adopted as a pet by game warden George Adamson and his wife Joy in the 1950s. They released her into the wild and their story, Born Free, went on to sell 5 million books and was turned into an Academy Award-winning film. I nodded affirmatively. Years on from Elsa, the presence of lions is still a hot topic. While the park is a guarded national reserve, the massive area around it is untamed land where lions and humans have co-existed for centuries, sometimes not so peacefully. Which is where Tina came in. “No lions have been killed by a Samburu since 2006,” she said proudly. Working with the Lion Conservation Fund for the best part of a decade now, her specialty is lions who are expelled from a pride – when they threaten the leader – and then become nomadic. But researching nomadic lions is, unsurprisingly, no easy thing. She realised early on that she needed the help of the moran (warriors) of the Samburu tribe, known for their tracking abilities. The moran (pron. mo-rahn) are the fearsome face of the Samburu, still traditionally dressed and armed with spears, and now with cell phones. The Lion Warrior project they are part of not only empowers them to track lions, but also helps educate their communities about the wider role conservation has to play in today’s Kenya. “It’s interesting,” she mused, “The moran have so many parallels to nomadic lions. They both are kicked out of families early in life and can’t return for a number of years.” I looked puzzled so she explained. The moran are the second stage of life for the Samburu male – after childhood and before ‘elder’ – that begins when the young male is 12 to 14. At that age they are circumcised (women are still circumcised too) and must leave home and join other moran in fending for themselves. Over the next 15 years they learn to hunt, kill, protect and live in the bush, and only after that period are they allowed to return to their boma (village), having shown that they are responsible enough to marry and raise a family. “You’ll get to meet them soon.” Sure enough, as we arrived at Sabache Eco-Lodge at the foot of the mountain O’Lolokwe, I was introduced to my helper, a young moran named Dickson. The lodge, run by the Samburu community, was far from what I expected. Described as a ‘traditional African bush camp’, my room came complete with hand-crafted furniture, stone ensuite, solar power and sundowners whenever I wanted them. Mornings started with watching elephants rummage in the riverbed below; days were spent chilling on my own private veranda; and in the evenings the campfire beckoned as dinner was shared with other guests – rock climbers, film crews, tourists and families. Over the next 15 years they learn to hunt, kill, protect and live in the bush, and only after that period are they allowed to return to their boma (village). “Do you want to meet the warriors?” asked Dickson with a wry smile.The moran were returning to camp having tracked lions over the previous few days. Once pawprints or other signs are spotted, they can identify the size and age of the animal they’re following. When they see the lions, they keep a healthy distance and report their observations to Tina once back at camp. I took the opportunity to ask them, through Dickson, what their day had involved. Suddenly, these serious young men become animated, pointing and gesturing down the valley towards the mountain. Dickson explained that three of the nomadic lions had banded together and were hunting in a mini-pack. Seeing this sort of activity in person was very rare and the moran were obviously proud. I was invited to join them for a meal. “Ohhhh, a goat! Now that’s something special,” said Tina knowingly, when I told her where I was off to. I arrived just as ‘lunch’ was being unloaded from the back of a motorbike. Held down by four warriors the animal bleated into submission, its body still. One of the moran put a knife to the goat’s throat, slowly, shallowly, slicing down the skin to part its coat under the neck. A quick nick, and then blood started flowing into the pocket of skin that had been created. One by one the moran put their lips to the pool of blood, sucking in the rich redness as the goat slowly died. The sacrifice wasn’t just because of lunch; the moran were contributing to a celebration that was being held that night. The entrails and liver were carefully wrapped and taken to the entrance of the nearby boma. “We are not allowed to eat with our family,” explained Titus, another moran, “so this is the closest we get.” My timing could not have been better. 29 days before I arrived there had been a blood moon eclipse where the moon ‘disappeared’. In the customs of the Samburu, the only way to guarantee its return is sing at it to bring it back. Tonight was the first full moon since the lunar eclipse and I was about to attend “The Moon is Back” party. The colourful Samburu women were gathered in a group in front of me, their bright beads bouncing upwards as they jumped and sang to welcome the Moon back. Nearby, elders drank tea while keeping an eye on the excitable children. Knowing I was a photographer, the women each lined up to have their picture taken. After seeing her portrait, one of them said something in Samburu to the group which got them all laughing. “What did she say?” I asked worryingly. “Don’t worry,” I was told,” She just said that you’d whispered that she was the most beautiful!” The eating started and the celebrations got under way. Taking my leave before it got too late, I crossed the riverbed on the way back to the lodge. Under the trees I could make out the Lion Warriors sitting around a fire, finishing off the remains of the goat. Away from their family, living the traditions that has kept the Samburu strong, and having their last meal before preparing to track the lions one more time. The Moon was indeed back. Details Fly: From Nairobi, depart Wilson Airport on Safari Air / Air Kenya to Samburu Visit: Samburu National Reserve www.samburu.net USD70 entry fee Activities: Samburu safari, village visits, camping, bush walks, rock climbing, birding Stay: Sabache Eco-lodge sabachecamp.com Visa: eVisa required www.evisa.go.ke USD50, valid 3months before travel Travel tip: Check the luggage allowance of any small planes you’re travelling on. Most have a 15kg maximum allowance including hand luggage, all to be in soft bags. Original publication: New Zealand Herald < Previous Next >

Guy Needham's People of The Balkans exhibition is having its second showing, this time at the Dalmatian Cultural Society's Open Day in September 2014. < Back Dalmatian Cultural Society's Open Day 1 Jul 2014 Guy Needham's People of The Balkans exhibition is having its second showing, this time at the Dalmatian Cultural Society's Open Day in September 2014. The collection documents a two month journey and the resulting portraits are of a proud people who have gone through much in the last 20 years. < Previous Next >

I first saw it through a 1973 Holden Belmont station wagon’s smoke-stained window. Staring back at 11-year-old me was a blue and yellow sign: ‘Pig Dog Training School / Bookbinder’. Located just outside of Torere, Joshua Kauta’s iconic landmark still stands, symbolising the next 300 kilometres. Known yet mysterious, friendly yet wary, this is the East Coast. < Back Cruising down the Highway 35 New Zealand Herald 5 Mar 2024 I first saw it through a 1973 Holden Belmont station wagon’s smoke-stained window. Staring back at 11-year-old me was a blue and yellow sign: ‘Pig Dog Training School / Bookbinder’. Located just outside of Torere, Joshua Kauta’s iconic landmark still stands, symbolising the next 300 kilometres. Known yet mysterious, friendly yet wary, this is the East Coast. State Highway 35 is its vein, an artery of townships that have risen and fallen with the tide of resources, people and politics. And yet this narrow, storm-beaten road attracts more passion than perhaps any other. ‘35’ logos proudly sit across low-hanging trackies, XXL tees and well-worn bucket hats. 35, the TikTok sensation by the 24-rangatahi choir Ka Hao and Rob Ruha has over 5 million views on YouTube. Driving the road you can see why. Honour guards of rata canopy across the sticky tarmac while almighty ponga stand sentinel over isolated coves. Beehives and bulls fall into the rear vision mirror, as a new Haere Mai approaches. Each township has its own unique ways. Te Kaha is home to the strikingly carved wharenui Tūkākī, next to a memorial dedicated to the Māori Battalion's C Company. Just before it is the Te Kaha Beach Resort complete with swimming pool, sea views, restaurant and event facilities. The Coast, authentic yet polished. As the road curves a bright star appears on the isthmus. Raukokore’s church, its external beams glistening, is as picturesque as it is isolated. The Pacific laps metres away as a stallion nonchalantly looks up. A single ute’s exhaust splutters and then the quiet returns once again. Further on the gears shift down, as does the pace. Fans of Taika Waititi pay homage to Boy’s Michael Jackson moves in front of the Waihau Bay Post Office, as kuia roll their eyes and chuckle. Fisherman patiently wait their turn to use the popular boat ramp as the sea begins to settle. After Hicks Bay the first straight heads towards Te Araroa and a carpet of needles under Te Waha o Rerekohu, the largest Pohutukawa in New Zealand. I played on it as a kid; there’s now a sign politely asking you not to. The most easterly point of State Highway 35 is at Tikitiki. Atop its hill sits the historic St Marys, widely considered to be the most beautiful Māori church in New Zealand. Sunlight strikes the stained glass window depicting two soldiers kneeling at the feet of Christ, below them sit glowing pews. Kowhaiwhai and tukutuku panels bathe in the light, embracing the intricately carved pulpit. The church, which was built as a memorial to Ngati Porou who sacrificed their lives in the Great War, has been lovingly restored over the last two decades. State Highway 35 is its vein, an artery of townships that have risen and fallen with the tide of resources, people and politics. Under the watch of the maunga Hikurangi, the first place to see the Sun, lies Ruatoria. Home of Pa War s - officially the Ngati Porou inter-marae challenge – every year over 20 marae come together for a day of competing fun. As varied as the Coast’s landscape the battles range from sprints to karaoke to euchre. A chorus of ‘chur bro’ sings out as kids collapse over the finish line into the embrace of cheering whanau. Pa Wars is a welcome respite from a tough 18 months on the Coast. Floods, road closures, and of course, COVID-19 restrictions have all affected it. Erosion is no stranger to State Highway 35 either; the roads can be as uneven as the weather. Following another vehicle on the Coast forges an anonymous bond, a shared sense of navigating dips and swerving rocks, until they break away for their own journey as the road winds on. The gastronomical pull of Tokomaru Bay is too strong to drive by. Served fresh and creamy, Café 35’s famous Paua Pies fuel locals and tourists alike. Heads turn as trays breeze past, the waft of hot flaky pastry delivered with a knowing smile, making the wait worth it. The pies travel well, making their half-eaten way to nearby ‘secret’ Anaura Bay. This stunning bay embodies ‘getting away from it all’, its long sandy beach bookended by DOC and commercial camping grounds. The biggest township on the East Coast happens to have the longest wharf in New Zealand. Buttressed by easterly swells the Tolaga Bay wharf can be a stirring sight; a reminder of the respect Tangaroa commands. Light-coloured driftwood touched by fingers of ocean tentatively rests as the tide comes in one more time. A determined father with stroller heads towards the end of the pier, hair askew and hands clasped tightly. Waiting for him when he gets back are Broad Bills’ cheesy wheezies curly fries, a just reward for such a long walk. Beyond Tolaga Bay the road straightens as it makes its way to Gisborne. Behind it is a unique unspoiled land, threaded with a living, breathing highway. The Coast, like State Highway 35 itself, is still a little rough around the edges, but nothing a 1973 Holden Belmont station wagon can’t handle. Details Getting there: Self-drive from Opotiki to Gisborne or vice-versa. 4WD is best. Accommodation: Te Kaha Beach Resort, Hicks Bay Motor Lodge, Freedom camping Stop at: Te Kaha, Waihau Bay, Te Araroa, Tikitiki, Tokomaru Bay, Anaura Bay, Tolaga Bay Web: tairawhitigisborne.co.nz/see-and-do/statehighway35/ Original publication: New Zealand Herald < Previous Next >

Articles ARTICLES 20 Jun 2026 From Shame to Bond New Zealand Herald “Is this the square?” “Si.” The couple sitting next to me were taking in Piazza San Giovanni, picturing James Bond in his DB5, machine guns blazing as his steely blue resolve and bullet-proof glass got him out of another sticky situation... Read More 20 Jun 2026 Salve Procida New Zealand Herald In one swift motion the taxi driver heaved my suitcase into the boot. “Do not worry, I am strong!” she laughed, flexing her biceps. Sabrina was my unofficial welcomer to Isola di Procida, a 4km2 speck of land in the Gulf of Naples. Read More 19 Mar 2024 Why Bluff is the New Hotspot you must Visit New Zealand Herald The town known for those fat juicy you-know-whats, and the place where every New Zealand fundraising ride / walk / tour seems to end, is having a modern-day renaissance. Bluff is one of the oldest settlements in New Zealand but rather than resting on its oyster laurels its quickly becoming a destination of its own. Read More 5 Mar 2024 Cruising down the Highway 35 New Zealand Herald I first saw it through a 1973 Holden Belmont station wagon’s smoke-stained window. Staring back at 11-year-old me was a blue and yellow sign: ‘Pig Dog Training School / Bookbinder’. Located just outside of Torere, Joshua Kauta’s iconic landmark still stands, symbolising the next 300 kilometres. Known yet mysterious, friendly yet wary, this is the East Coast. Read More 8 Nov 2023 A Spell in Salem New Zealand Herald “Salem has 400 years of history, yet all people want to talk about was the single worst year we ever had”. Our gregarious Witch City Walking Tour guide, Sean, with tongue firmly planted in cheek, introduced us to what put this Massachusetts town on the map – the Salem Witch Trials. Read More 25 Oct 2023 Falling for New England New Zealand Herald As the road softly curved under a canopy of maples, rusty reds and golden yellows tumbled to the ground. A solitary man, belt braces strapped over his checked shirt, stood out against the wall of crimson trees. Tailgate down on his Chevy pickup, twin American flags bookending his sign, his bottles of homemade liquid sweetness magnified the sun’s rays. Read More 9 Aug 2023 Hidden Gisborne New Zealand Herald The runway was approaching and we still didn’t have clearance. We’d reduced speed but the control tower was looming closer. Suddenly we got the green light. “There it is,” pointed Geoff, “Up in the tower”. Sure enough, a green light beamed back at us, permission to continue on the railway that cuts through Gisborne’s airport. Read More 13 Oct 2019 Barcelona Nights New Zealand Herald “Li-ber-tat! Li-ber-tat!” The chant was sweeping across the square like a Catalan wave. The crowd ignored the soaring heat to remind the world that their pro-independence leaders were still in exile or jail. “Libertat-del-presos-politics!!” Read More 21 Aug 2019 Disappointing a Nun New Zealand Herald Vasillia gently touched my arm and leant in. “You are an Orthodox at heart,” she whispered, her eyes lighting up. “Yes, yes, I can see it inside you!” For the first time in my life I had to disappoint a nun. Read More 11 Dec 2018 Kenya's Lion Warriors New Zealand Herald "Um, aren’t we a little low?!” shouted my fellow passenger over the Cessna’s engine. She was right of course, we were only 50 metres above the ground and below us impala were scattering everywhere. “No, of course not,” I reassured her while secretly enjoying a personal ‘Out of Africa’ moment as she gripped the armrest. Read More 24 Oct 2017 The Mentawai of Indonesia New Zealand Herald “Hold on, I just need to scrape something off…” My guide had removed his gumboot and was reaching for a knife. Slowly he sliced the blade down his leg to remove the blood sucking leech that had attached itself to him. “Welcome to Mentawai!” he said with a broad grin. Read More 12 Jun 2017 Guiding Principles New Zealand Herald Even the most ardent solo traveller at some stage will need a guide - someone who knows their cantons from their arrondissements better than you do. I’ve used more than 20 guides around the world, from well-known tour companies to random taxi drivers, so here are a few simple tips that might help you out. Read More 2 May 2017 Where the Ocean meets the Sky New Zealand Herald “In the olden days,” began Apinelu, a tone of longing in his voice, “it was never this hot. Never. Now everything has changed, not just the sea.” It was a very still 33° and my earlobes were sweating. Welcome to the small island nation of Tuvalu. Read More 3 May 2016 Deep in the Heart of Texas New Zealand Herald Y’all not from round here, are ya? Ain’t nobody drinks Budddd. This is Shiner Bock country, sir.” And with that the barman passed over a golden-labelled bottle of ale. I was in Luckenbach, Texas, population 3, a small town in the Hill Country west of San Antonio. Read More 12 Jan 2016 Better than a Band Aid New Zealand Herald “Don’t worry ‘bout a thing, cause every little thing, gonna be al-riiight…” It seemed only appropriate that Bob Marley blared out the front of the pick-up as we bounced along the dirt road. After all, this was the country of Emperor Haile Selassie, recognised by Rastafarians as the Massiah of African Redemption and head of their religion. Read More 5 Feb 2015 Off-grid Ocean Journey New Zealand Herald “When the alarm goes you grab this,” Officer Cadet Dusan said as he pointed to my lifejacket. “And this.” An orange survival suit. “We muster on C Deck, starboard side.” I didn’t know if it was a good or bad thing that my welcome was bringing up Titanic-like thoughts. Read More 14 Apr 2009 Morocco in Focus New Zealand Herald When you're in Morocco colour is inescapable. The contrasts, hues and shades that make up this North African country are evident from the moment you land. Travelling through the country is an unbelievably vivid experience, an intoxicating blend of colours, photo opportunities mixed with spicy smells and the strange sounds of a foreign land. Read More see tear sheets >

TRAVEL Carnaval de Negros y Blancos Global El Carnaval de Negros y Blancos (Black and Whites' Carnaval), a five day party held in January, is the world’s biggest foam fight. The Carnaval is the loudest, longest and messiest festival in southern Colombia. The pinnacle of the Carnaval is the Grand Parade that falls on Dia de Blancos (The Day of the Whites) - but not before the celebration with flour bombs and talcum powder. Previous Next

TRAVEL Timor-Leste Dili, Timor-Leste The history of Timor-Leste (pron. less-tay) is a long and bloody one. After 400 years as a Portuguese colony, a coup in Lisbon encouraged the East Timorese to declare independence in 1975. While the suffering of the past is never far from the country’s collective memory, these days Timor-Leste is on friendly terms with its neighbours, is eager to prosper, and keen to show the world what it has to offer. Previous Next

Two of Guy Needham's images from his Mentawai tribal series will be part of the inaugural Chania International Photography festival in Crete. < Back Chania International Photography Festival 25 Jun 2018 Two of Guy Needham's images from his Mentawai tribal series will be part of the inaugural Chania International Photography festival in Crete. The two images, Aman Teutagougou and Iman Ipai, were taken in 2017 in the rainforests of Indonesia. They'll be on show from 28 August to 5th September at the Grand Arsenali in the old town of Chania. < Previous Next >

Goroka Boy, an image taken in the central Highlands of Papua New Guinea, has been selected for Praxis Gallery's international juried Portraits exhibition. < Back Goroka Boy goes to the United States 14 Apr 2020 Goroka Boy, an image taken in the central Highlands of Papua New Guinea, has been selected for Praxis Gallery's international juried Portraits exhibition. The exhibition "celebrates the aesthetic and conceptual considerations involved in the creation of the portrait: revealing personal narratives or new anthologies through the artistic representation of the subject" and will run from 22 May - 15 June in Minneapolis. < Previous Next >

Lokop Mabel, one of the elders of the Dani tribe in Papua's Anemoigi village, features in NZ Camera 2023. < Back NZ Camera 2023 10 Nov 2023 Lokop Mabel, one of the elders of the Dani tribe in Papua's Anemoigi village, features in NZ Camera 2023. The intimate, relaxed portrait of him has been selected for New Zealand Camera 2023 - a collection of outstanding photographic images from all genres . The hard cover, full colour coffee table book is the Photographic Society of New Zealand's flagship publication and you can purchase a copy here . < Previous Next >

Guy Needham and a number of photographers worldwide have joined together to raise funds for UNICEF Ukraine via Portugal's Incubator Gallery. < Back Photographers for Ukraine 9 Mar 2023 Guy Needham and a number of photographers worldwide have joined together to raise funds for UNICEF Ukraine via Portugal's Incubator Gallery. Sales from the images donated , like this one of a Hadzabe leader, will go towards life-saving support for children and their families who are suffering as a result of the Russian invasion. Images will be on show in Lisbon for all of March plus available online to purchase at < Previous Next >

A monochromatic portrait of Aman Ipai, one of the Mentawai of Indonesia, has been selected for the Vienna International Photo Awards. < Back Aman Ipai honoured in Vienna 11 Sept 2022 A monochromatic portrait of Aman Ipai, one of the Mentawai of Indonesia, has been selected for the Vienna International Photo Awards. The image, which captures his unique body art and trusting presence, has been awarded an Honorary Mention in the People & Portrait Photography category. Playing on contrast in a wider sense, it was taken in his uma (longhouse) using only natural light to frame his generous pose. < Previous Next >