Vietnam, June. I barely took any pictures then — the heat didn't care whether I felt like shooting or not. But in Nha Trang I hired a boat to the islands, and the sea breeze finally made me pick up the camera. After all, that's what I enjoy most about travelling: just catching moments around me.
Don't judge the quality too harshly. Most shots were taken handheld on a 300mm lens (no lightweight), while standing on the deck of a tourist boat.
At first I shot the coastal landscapes. They really were impressive. But soon my eye caught the structures right on the water. Fishermen's houses.
Then I noticed their boats.
They were everywhere.
The houses themselves looked doubtful at first glance. In terms of reliability. When you build a home from whatever's at hand, be prepared for half of it to drift one way and the rest the other.
The rainy season was approaching, and I wondered whether these constructions could withstand downpours and storms. But judging by how relaxed the owners looked, they clearly could.
Though that kid clung to a pile like it was a lifebuoy. Storms, apparently, had taught him well.
A sailboat catamaran appeared on the horizon. Nha Trang is a resort town, after all.
And there were countless tourist boats packed with people, darting between the islands.
Some zipped dangerously close.
And then there was the ghost boat. I called it that because no matter how hard I looked, I couldn't spot a single soul on board: no tourists, no crew, nobody. It felt a bit eerie. Though maybe I just imagined it.
Anyway, the moment my boat dropped me off on an island with snow-white sand, I shoved the camera into my bag and forgot all about the short sea trip. Hardly anything beats diving into the water after a couple of hours in brutal heat.
One thing I learned for sure: I'd better avoid Vietnam in June. Because the heat doesn't ask anything. It simply kills every desire in you except one: to sit neck-deep in the sea.
Thank you for stopping by!
One thing I learned for sure: I'd better avoid Vietnam in June. Because the heat doesn't ask anything. It simply kills every desire in you except one: to sit neck-deep in the sea.
Thank you for stopping by!
