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A pencil case, keeper of memories and three-way pens, lives in that no-mans-land of utilitarian nostalga and scholastic glory. In Lisbon, a city known for its leatherwork, a pencil case is much more than a convenient carrier; it’s a culmination of artisanal training, pre-cut patterns and naked flame. < Back The making of a pencil case Substack 10 Oct 2025 A pencil case, keeper of memories and three-way pens, lives in that no-mans-land of utilitarian nostalga and scholastic glory. In Lisbon, a city known for its leatherwork, a pencil case is much more than a convenient carrier; it’s a culmination of artisanal training, pre-cut patterns and naked flame. Half-way up the cobblestoned Rua Arco de Graca, behind the fresh façade of Di Zocco sits Leonardo di Croce, bent over his vintage Pfaff sewing machine, heel-toe technique on full display as the needle pumps furiously. An Argentine native who began leathercrafting with his brother in Buenos Aires, di Croce loosely follows in the footsteps of his cobbler grandfather and leathersmith uncle. Now plying his trade in Portugal, his unfussy shop-cum-studio welcomes visitors with purposely placed samples lining wooden shelves. Out the back, an old fan unevenly oscillates, wafting the soft, homely aroma emanating from a mélange of offcuts. Choosing a piece of leather, di Croce tugs at it tenderly to check for blemishes. Taking a blade to the Portuguese cow hide he traces around a well-worn pattern, carefully pushing against the metal workbench. The outline for the pencil case is deceptively simple – two shapes – versus the more complex ‘Jimmy’ messenger or ‘Sam’ backpack (each bag is named after its first customer). He precisely threads the leather through a thinning skiver, pushing out a smooth bevelled edge on the other side. Transferring glue from large jar to small, he fastidously wipes his hands on his denim apron, before patting down the adhesive using a fine brush. There are no plastic caps or excessive cloth inserts here; Di Croce follows a maxim passed on by another old hand, ‘If it is leather, show the leather.’ Concentration on his face, tongue between his lips, he expertly guides the Gutermann polyester thread along the zip line. Cigarette lighter and micro scissors in hand, di Croce snips and sears off the final loose threads before turning it all inside out. A smooth, rich dark brown, hand-crafted pencil case is revealed, ready to sit on the shelf and be named after the next customer. < Previous Next >

If you want to read about why I disappointed a Nun while gazing out from ancient monasteries perched atop towering pinnacles of rock in Meteora, Greece, pick up a copy of this Tuesday's New Zealand Herald. < Back Castles in the Sky 18 Aug 2019 If you want to read about why I disappointed a Nun while gazing out from ancient monasteries perched atop towering pinnacles of rock in Meteora, Greece, pick up a copy of this Tuesday's New Zealand Herald. In the cover story of Travel you'll also find out how these amazing monasteries were built, and the best way to get to this UNESCO World Heritage attraction. < 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 >

TRAVEL Wayang Kulit Yogyakarta, Indonesia Wayang kulit is Indonesia’s centuries-old shadow puppet tradition, dating back to 800AD when puppets were used to worship ancestors. In 2003 UNESCO named wayang kulit as a Masterpiece of the Oral and Intangible Heritage of Humanity, and today the shadow puppets are produced on demand for dalang (puppet masters) and collectors who spend tens of thousands of rupiah to expand their collection. Previous Next

We’d been in the village for less than half an hour before we were propositioned. Usually, I’m a little wary of strangers inviting me to their house but the tall man in the grey hoodie insisted. “It’s only three minutes away,” he said with a straight face and slight accent. “You should come.” So we slowly followed him down the road. < Back Magical Māpua The Press 29 Sept 2025 We’d been in the village for less than half an hour before we were propositioned. Usually, I’m a little wary of strangers inviting me to their house but the tall man in the grey hoodie insisted. “It’s only three minutes away,” he said with a straight face and slight accent. “You should come.” So we slowly followed him down the road. Not that there was anything to worry about. The inviting local was one of the Māpua’s many talented craftspeople, industrial designer Sebastian Roccatagliata. In the workshop below his house, he pointed to thin boards of rimu, matai, and rewarewa, ready to be crafted into lamps for his Studio Deco Design showroom. Sebastian, like many of Māpua’s residents, had moved here for the lifestyle and natural beauty. The name says it all: Māpua means ‘a place of abundance’ in Māori. Only 30 minutes from Nelson, the township is best known for the historic and revitalised Māpua Wharf – an eclectic mix of boutiques, restaurants, bars, galleries, and a bike hire shop. “You want a step thru? A hardtail?” Establishing that I was a novice, the staff at Kiwi Journeys carefully wheeled out my first e-bike. “Go round to the left, between the buildings, down the ramp, onto the sand, we’ll meet you there. We drive the ferry too.” The flat-bottomed Māpua Ferry is the cycle-friendly link to nearby Rabbit Island and the only ferry crossing on New Zealand’s cycle trail. It took a whole five minutes to get to the other side. “See you in a few hours” came the cheery wave and off we went, doing a majestic 20kph with the help of eco and sport modes, peddling the coast track before heading towards the beach. Beyond the protected bird nests lay total solitude, undisturbed sand as far as the eye could see. Further inland we doubled back though the pine forest, navigating pinecones and debris before taking on the Conifer Park Track. Along the way we came across other cyclists who were doing the Great Taste Trail, one of the Ngā Haerenga Great Rides of New Zealand. Once back in Māpua it was time to eat, and The Jellyfish’s sun deck was calling. Located in a prime position on the wharf this well-regarded restaurant was bustling despite the chilly spring day. I rued not choosing the BBQ brisket dripping in caramelised onion that she-who-doesn’t-like-to-share ordered. Oh well, there was always Hamish the heron to watch on the pier (spoiler alert: it took me a while to figure out Hamish is not a real bird). Not far from the restaurant are the old apple coolstores, now converted into an art lover’s paradise. Where once 100,000 cases of Granny Smiths and Galas sat ready to be exported, today it is pīwakawaka sculptures of recycled spoons (Forest Fusion), hand-painted scarfs (The Mapua Collective), and mini terracotta vases (Coolstore Gallery) that take pride of place. But it was a pop of fuchsia nearby that caught my eye. The brightly painted beacon that is Kandē was a magnet to my oh-so-sweet tooth . Seated behind the smallest counter in the world was college student Aidan Porch, purveying jars of Grow Some Balls and Stop the Whining Gums . “How would I describe this shop? Small!” he laughed, going on to explain that the candy store was a family affair - built by him and his dad, with mum doing the ordering – giving him the flexibility to work when he can. Like many seaside towns, opening hours in Māpua vary by season : the Golden Bear Brewing Company was still ‘hibernating’ in early September; the ferry timetable was operating on winter hours (weekends / school holidays); and many of the pop-up shops hadn’t popped-up yet. Thankfully this wasn’t the case everywhere. “Open every day but Christmas,” shouted Tim over the Wega coffee machine at Java Hut, a little further up Aranui Road. Complete with self-identifying grumpy old men sitting out front and an overflowing tippo-potamus, it was obvious that Java Hut is a local’s local. “I love it when we get visitors, but there’s more to Māpua than just the wharf.” He wasn’t wrong. Staying in a converted warehouse apartment at Pohutukawa Farm, with its expansive views of tidal Waimea Inlet framed by the distant snowy ranges, it was easy to forget how much the wider area had to offer. In a region renowned for its wines we headed to Moutere Hills Restaurant & Cellar Door in search of lunch. Mistake #1 : not making a booking during a potentially busy period (I’m looking at you, Fathers’ Day). Mistake #2 : not giving ourselves enough time to take in the surrounds. We laser focused in on deserts. Dark Chocolate Ganache Tart? Yes please. Orange Cake, Safron Gel and Aquafaba Meringue? We’ll have that too. A trio of Feijoa Cake Limoncello, Tiramisu, and Ginger Loaf Icecream? Go on then. It’s fair to say that we didn’t have dinner. We had one last stop though: Brook Waimārama Sanctuary, a shortish drive away. The South Island’s biggest predator-free sanctuary is home to 65 tuatara and 41 kiwi pukupuku (Little Spotted Kiwi), as well as the critically endangered kākāriki-karaka (orange-fronted parakeet). We were warmly welcomed to the visitor centre by Chris McCormack, CEO, enthusiastic conservationist, and our tour guide for the night. Red-light head torches on, puffers zipped up, we headed through the double doors into the forest valley. A few hundred metres in Chris froze. “Hear that?” he urgently whispered, “It’s a male.” A high-pitched whistle. A pause, and then another one. “No, he’s a different male.” Then a lower call, slower, a short of trill. “Wow, she’s responding! That’s two kiwi males and a female you’ve just heard”. This was going to be hard to beat. We followed the path through the sanctuary, Chris shining an infrared light to bring the hidden glowworms alive, stopping occasionally to open a wooden ‘weta hotel’ (it’s OK, they’re in cases). This time there was a sharp “Shhh”. Leaves rustled to our right. Then suddenly, out popped a kiwi pukupuku metres from us and shot up the side of the path, it’s powerful legs too quick for us to get a photo, its soft shaggy feathers shining in the full moonlight. We were stunned. To see this taonga in its natural habitat really did feel like an honour. “That has never happened on a tour,” Chris said, when we all got our breath back. The wide smiles continued all the way back to Māpua. The next morning, still excited about our kiwi encounter, we coffee’d in Māpua one last time. As we left the wharf we passed Sebastian’s lighting showroom, his whale-shaped lights still on, grateful that this stranger had taken the time to proposition us. Original publication: The Press < Previous Next >

Fresh off winning the Portrait award for Shoot The Frame, and ashowing at the Indian Photography Festival, this image of Yunita Mabel has just won Bronze at the Budapest International Foto Awards. < Back Yunita Mabel wins Bronze 30 Nov 2022 Fresh off winning the Portrait award for Shoot The Frame, and ashowing at the Indian Photography Festival, this image of Yunita Mabel has just won Bronze at the Budapest International Foto Awards. The strong portrait which has echoes of the Mona Lisa was taken in Anemoigi village in West Papua, Indonesia, and will be on display in Hungary in 2023. Like other Dani women, Yunita plays the traditional role expected of females in the tribe - cooking, cleaning, and looking after the children - and lives separately from the men in the village. < 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 >

The lion was just metres away now. “Look, he’s trying to find some shade so the meat doesn’t rot quickly,” whispered my guide, Nicholas. In the big cat’s mouth was a Maasai calf, being unceremoniously dragged across the plain towards a desert date tree. It was nature at its primeval best in Kenya’s most famous game park. < Back On Safari in the Masaii Mara Sunday Star-Times 2 Feb 2016 The lion was just metres away now. “Look, he’s trying to find some shade so the meat doesn’t rot quickly,” whispered my guide, Nicholas. In the big cat’s mouth was a Maasai calf, being unceremoniously dragged across the plain towards a desert date tree. It was nature at its primeval best in Kenya’s most famous game park. I was in the Maasai Mara in Africa’s Great Rift Valley, my first stop on a quest to see the Big Five. Not content with going to just one reserve, I’d also committed to the Mara’s lesser-known siblings: Nakuru National Park, Samburu National Reserve and Aberdare National Park. Nicholas was both my guide and driver, working for the safari company Seven by Far, and right now he was about as excited as I was. “Whatever you do, don’t open the door,” he added with a grin. The CB radio crackled softly as he spoke in Swahili to the other drivers. A gaggle of Land Cruisers gathered. Our shutters clicked, our mouths gaped. The lion glared back, baring his fangs, not impressed at all. Picking up the calf by what was left of its bloody neck, he dragged it further away through the long grass. One by one the Land Cruisers left. Then suddenly the radio was active again. A leopard had been spotted darting into a croton bush as a vehicle approached. By the time we joined the scene some of the drivers had been waiting for half an hour for it to emerge. Sure enough, the leopard – one of Africa’s most elusive predators – slunk its way out of the bush to the nearby waterhole before disappearing again. But the great Mara wasn’t finished with us just yet. There’d been one more sighting, so I held on tightly, standing under the popped roof as we raced back the way we’d come. A Thompson’s Gazelle had had the unfortunate pleasure of being hunted down by a coalition of cheetahs. The mother and her two camouflaged sons were only visible when they poked their heads above the dense foliage. As dusk approached the evening show ended and it was time to make our way back to the lodge. After spending a month in African huts with no electricity, no running water and no phone coverage, I’d decided to treat myself and stay at top-end accommodation. First up, the Sarova Mara Game Camp, winner of the World’s Top Luxury Safari Camp 2015. “Whatever you do, don’t open the door,” he added with a grin. “Karibu!” My host Nancy was all smiles. “Welcome, we’ll show you to your tent.” Huh, a tent? What the hell? OK, so I have to admit this wasn’t the “we’re-all-going-camping-whether-you-kids-like-it-or-not” type of tent. It was more of a bure complete with outside deck, wooden flooring, ensuite, bath, writing desk, complimentary toiletries, safe, wardrobe and all-important water. At night it even got ‘turned down’ with mosquito nets dropped, soft lighting switched on, and a hot water bottle left in my bed (yes, I know, in Kenya!) It made continuing my journey very difficult. While the Maasai Mara was great savannahs speckled with trees, Nakuru was the complete opposite: a forested reserve encompassing a lake. Hidden within the park itself was the aptly named Sarova Lion Hill Game Lodge, where I was welcomed with a refreshing face cloth and glass of fresh juice. Game drives in Kenya are usually early in the morning and then again late in the afternoon – the best times to catch the wildlife feeding and moving. This time however, the safari didn’t start so well. An Africanized Honey Bee took to me and Nicholas spent a good few minutes removing the venom stinger from my back. “If you thought that sting was a shock,” he said, trying to cheer me up, “wait ‘til you see this.” I really wasn’t in a cheering up mood. We drove past some impala. “There, look up.” High in front of us was the reason why so many tourists come to Nakuru. A lioness was casually stretched out on branch, paws dangling in the air (like she just didn’t care), oblivious to all who had stopped below her. Unique to this park in Kenya, Nakuru is one of the few places in the world where lions have learnt to climb trees. After about 30 minutes of her semi-dozing we moved on to Nakuru’s other rockstars – the black rhinoceros. Notoriously shy, and for good reason, we only got to see the rhinos from a distance but watched for long enough to appreciate their grazing ways. They were under the vigilant eye of the Kenyan Wildlife Service, whose armed wardens we encountered throughout the park, ready to fight poachers who would kill these animals for their horns. Kenya’s most famous game warden was Baba ya Simba (Father of Lions), known to us as George Adamson. George and his wife Joy adopted a young orphaned lioness that they named Elsa, who they later released into the wild. Joy’s book about their story, Born Free, went on to sell 5 million copies, was turned into an Academy Award-winning film, and won a Grammy for its eponymous theme song. I was headed to where it all started, Samburu National Park, and to get there I needed to cross the Equator. “Do you want to see the water demonstration?” asked the young man with the patter of someone who had done this before. “We are on the Equator now. 20 metres north you will see the water swirls through the hole in this bowl one way, and 20 metres south of this sign, the opposite way.” Sure enough, just metres into the Northern Hemisphere the water was draining clockwise. Down south it swirled anti-clockwise. On the Equator it went straight down. “Would you like to see my friend’s shop?” came the not unexpected follow-up. For probably more than I should have paid, I bought a carved stone memento. We were on our way north again through the cool highlands and lush farms dotting the landscape. Samburu is one of a troika of parks that includes Shaba and Buffalo Springs National Reserves. Best known for its giraffes and elephants, it also has the Ewaso Ng'iro River with its many and large crocodiles. A lioness was casually stretched out on branch, paws dangling in the air (like she just didn’t care). “Jambo! Welcome to the Sarova Shaba, home of Born Free. If you like you can view the crocodiles later from your window. But first, some lunch.” I’ve got to say, Kenya’s safari lodges really have their hospitality down pat. There is so much food on offer – Western, Kenyan, Indian – with three all-inclusive meals every day that you have to make sure you don’t go home with ‘excess luggage’. It was in Samburu‘s bush land that we had our closest encounter with elephants. We weren’t very far down a lesser-used track when a matriarch appeared – elephant families are lead by an older female – to assess the situation. One by one the other family members came out, the mother putting herself between us and her calf. She was smart, not wanting to challenge us but slowly moving into position to ensure we had to reverse. To see these remarkable, beasts so close, and to have them walk past just metres from you gives you a sense of what giants they are in the wild. The most graceful animals we encounted in Samburu were the giraffes. Gentle, pensive, deliberate, they loped into view reaching up to branches with their foot long black tongue. To hear them chewing softly with nothing else around was mesmerising. I was suddenly divided about whether zoos were a good idea or not. There was one more game park to visit. We headed back towards Nairobi, into the hills again and then out the other side, coffee plantations replacing fields of grain. As we rounded Mt Kenya the roads became smoother and busier, the shops more western and larger. Our next destination was Treetops Lodge in Aberdare National Park. “We did have you down for Room 19, but have upgraded you to the room next door. You may have heard of it, the Princess Elizabeth Suite.” I was shown to the exact same room a young princess was staying in when she found out that, due to the passing of her father, she was now Queen Elizabeth II. I wondered if Her Majesty looked out onto the same scene I was witnessing now. Like guests checking in, the elephants and buffalo arrived at 6pm on the dot, circling the watering hole in front of the hotel. Not that I needed to worry about missing them; the hotel has an ‘alarm’ system: one buzz for hyenas, two for a leopard, three for rhinos and four for elephants. At one stage I counted over 60 elephants in 5 different families rutting up the dirt with their trunks to lick the salt. For the first time in my life I went to bed with the sound of elephants snorting and roaring outside my window. Did touring the different game reserves work out for me? Yes, I got to see the Big Five – the African Lion, Leopard, Buffalo, Elephant and the Rhino – plus cheetahs, giraffes, zebras, hippos, baboons, monkeys, gazelles, dik diks and onyx. As Nicholas dropped me off in the leafy suburbs of Nairobi I felt a little sadness that the safari was all over. For the last time I got out of what had been my daytime home away from home. Nicholas smiled as we firmly shook hands, knowing that I had just experienced the greatest wildlife destination on the planet. Details Emirates flies from Auckland to Nairobi, via Australia and Dubai (24 hours). Most safari tours start in Nairobi but you can take domestic flights to get to your destination quicker. Roads in Kenya are good until you get near the parks themselves, where they change to unsealed. There are a variety of options available depending upon your budget and needs. For the discerning traveller, the Sarova Group offers award-winning game camp and lodge accommodation throughout Kenya. These include full board with all meals, premium rooms and cultural and game drive offerings (www.sarovahotels.com). Treetops Lodge in Aberdare National Park is the only lodge of its type in Kenya (www.aberdaresafarihotels.co.ke/treetops). Self-drive is not recommended due to the state of the roads, and you’ll miss out on the wisdom of guides. Safaribookings.com is the best place to start planning your trip, with over 1600 operators listed. Seven by Far (www.sevenbyfartourskenya.com) offers tours from 4 to 14 days, including the parks mentioned in this article. Most of the day will be spent in your 4x4, so don’t forget to put on insect repellent and have spare memory cards and batteries. Before you finish your trip take home a piece of Kenya with you – be it an ebony carving or a hand made silk scarf. While high-end lodges do take MasterCard and Visa, cash is still king. Tipping is expected, prepare to give 100 Kenyan Shillings per bag ported (approximately NZ$1.30). Make sure you have enough small notes with you. Usually the only additional costs you will have to pay for are drinks and other extras such as massages and washing. It is rare to find ATMs outside of the major cities. More Information: www.magicalkenya.com. Original publication: Sunday Star-Times < Previous Next >

On RNZ National Guy Needham joins Colin Peacock to discuss his work and the intimate portraits he created of the Samburu tribe in northern Kenya. < Back The Samburu on RNZ National 3 Oct 2020 On RNZ National Guy Needham joins Colin Peacock to discuss his work and the intimate portraits he created of the Samburu tribe in northern Kenya. The interview covers off everything from photographing indigenous peoples to some of the unique rituals he has observed to the planning that goes into getting to extremely hard-to-reach peoples. The Samburu of Kenya exhibition is part of Auckland Artwork 2020 and the interview can be heard here . < Previous Next >

This week The Press featured my article on Māpua, a pocket of paradise on the Waimea Inlet 30 minutes from Nelson, that blends natural encounters with artisan flair and friendly style. < Back Māpua Magic 28 Sept 2025 This week The Press featured my article on Māpua, a pocket of paradise on the Waimea Inlet 30 minutes from Nelson, that blends natural encounters with artisan flair and friendly style. From being propositioned not long after we arrived, to taking an e-bike on the only ferry crossing on the New Zealand's cycle trail, you can read all about how this historic and revitalised township is punching above its tourism weight, in The Press here or on my website here . < Previous Next >

Aman Ipai, also known as 'The Mentawai Smoker' is being shown as part of the Florida Museum of Photographic Arts' exhibition this month. < Back Aman Ipai overlooks Florida 2 Oct 2020 Aman Ipai, also known as 'The Mentawai Smoker' is being shown as part of the Florida Museum of Photographic Arts' exhibition this month. Taken in the doorway of his uma using only natural light to frame his presence, the portrait captures the unique body art of the Mentawai. It will be on display on the external digital billboard screen of the FMOPA's Tampa gallery. < Previous Next >

TRAVEL Torajaland Sulawesi, Indonesia For the Toraja of southern Sulawesi, death is very much a part of life and their elaborate funeral rites are renowned throughout Indonesia. Previous Next