All | Rat and Dragon | Film and Photography Production

Catching a life wish

The last two months have been the first in 2 years of Rat & Dragon we’ve spent in one place. Shacked up in our little cabin on the NSW coast, 5 hours drive from the nearest Apple Store, our world view has gone from regularly covering thousands of travel miles capturing this planets wonders on film, to working, living, sleeping and breathing the same 300m x 300m square day in day out. Our Rat’s rural work has taken her out of camp a few times, but the furthest has been 10 minutes down the road to Red Rock, where she’s helping construct Loka’s riverside camp, by definition in the middle of nowhere.

The last two months have nevertheless been some one of the most tumultuous times in our recent history. We had just competed our cinematographic journey through Stray’s entire Southeast Asia network, hard drives and minds jam packed with 5 countries worth of wonders. Our Mighty Australia road trip was on the brink of being published and we found ourselves on opposite sides of the planet as Rat continued her stint in construction and Dragon flew the flag high in corporate London. Returning to Oz Dragon got his teeth into overhauling Mojo’s entire video marketing portfolio, aided by the occasional dip in the tantalisingly close ocean.

With our heads for the first time in what would resemble a ‘normal routine’ (we have access to our own fridge!!), the crazy digital nomad lifestyle got mingled up with the office worker’s concept of sitting still in the same chair day in day out, for 10 hours at a time, face in a screen, mind oblivious to body. Chasing all those deadlines all at once, forgetting to eat lunch. Then one of our Dragon’s oldest friends did what he’d always done best. With complete disregard for what society expects, he shook things up in a big way. Unfortunately it was not a happy occasion, as 5 years after being diagnosed with a brain tumour, battling through cancer treatment and building up his life after nearly losing everything, Sir Chafe-a lot (as he was called by his friends) passed away unexpectedly in his sleep.

Through the mist of disbelief and the intensely emotional process of bringing friends up to speed with funeral arrangements, we found ourselves in a mindset, which was both draining and elating at the same time. Where our brains had previously been overpowering our bodies in order to pool all resources into a) just getting through this heavy day shovelling gravel on site or b) getting as much editing done as possible before collapsing into bed, Chaffie’s death pulled us away from the little ant hill we’d had our head stuck in to the view an elephant on a mountain would enjoy on a sunny Friday afternoon. Deadlines were still very important, getting days on site ticked off and films uploaded was still happening big time, but the perspective this slap in the face by life itself supplied, expanded our minds that they could suddenly fit all this other stuff in it in parallel. We saw our beautiful surroundings, took notice of the strangely wonderful people and creatures around us and felt like we’d just dipped in to visit some far away country.

Most people go travelling to get out of their normal lives for a bit, to stretch their emotional muscle, to get their focus out of a single end-of-month-target spreadsheet by experiencing different people’s attitudes, food, sleeping arrangements and outlooks on the world. Going to exotic places opens your mind, puts your own life into perspective and allows you to experience wonder. Especially in poorer countries, travellers tend to enjoy the lack of rules and regulations that usually govern their lives. How exciting is it being allowed to sit on the roof of that truck whilst it’s driving through the North Burmese Landscape – you’d never get to do that in Australia. How awesome was that bamboo raft our truck used to cross that raging river on the way to that secret cliff jump that would be totally fenced off in the UK. Man, we drank this homemade whiskey with that incredible food a little old lady made sitting in the gutter. No Food Standards Agency to mess with our authentic experience. Safety laws in our own countries are there for a very good reason, so why do we get such a kick out of exploring somewhere that doesn’t have them? Why are people drawn to Bungee Jumping, Skydiving, Shark Cage diving, fast motorbikes and tripping out on Ayahuasca in the middle of the snake and piranha filled Amazon rainforest? Some may say these thrill seekers have a death wish. But is it actually the opposite?

If what we are seeking when going off to the other side of the world engaging in activities that would shock your Health & Safety officer is expanding our mind and thus to ‘live more fully’, then paradoxically, we live more by living a little bit more dangerously sometimes. One of our Rat’s university friends was hit by a car whilst crossing a bustling suburban London street at 2pm on a sunny day. The little green man had been green for her, but an impatient driver had taken a small risk drivers take every day. She was hit on the head, died on the spot, but as an organ donor saved 8 people’s lives. One of the first things our Rat did was get her motorcycle license. This tragic accident in such ordinary circumstances had brought home our own mortality, and rather than make us more scared of what could happen in our lives, made us stop faffing and go for it. Motorbikes are dangerous things, but if you could die anyway, why not do the things you love? Less like a death wish, more like a LIFE wish.

It’s a very western notion, that if we can only put ageing and death out of our minds, we will live happy, successful lives. In Bhutan, people make themselves aware of their own mortality 5 times a day, which helps them live happier lives. “Everything that kills me, makes me feel alive,” sing One Republic in ‘Couting Stars’. In a way, confronting yourself with the fact that nothing is certain can be very liberating, and recognizing the genuine emotion that ties us together in the wake of someone leaving us is a re-affirmation of the human spirit. So we hope you take our experience from the last few weeks on board and pick up something you’ve been putting off. Go on, get that ticket and lose yourself to end up seeing yourself a little bit better.

Sh*t to say to backpackers

All, Learn

6:30 pm. The hostel kitchen is teaming with 18-34 year olds in city print singlets and elephant pants. You’ve scored the only clean-ish chopping board in the place and are waiting patiently for a free hob ring whilst an overenthusiastic Berliner called Timo tells his new dorm mate off for attempting to put olive oil in their 5 person spaghetti pot. Your gas ring becomes available just as the quiet vegan girl in the corner drops her knife narrowly missing emo-dude’s pasty bare toes.

Half an hour later you emerge from what resembles the Titanic’s engine room with your one-pot dinner of spaghetti bolognese to try and find somewhere to sit on the cramped balcony at dinnertime. A minivan load of Swedes has taken over the back benches, saying the word ‘faaaaaahn’ a lot. Someone is arm wrestling a dude for his skateboard on the next table but at the far left there is what looks like a nice group who seem approachable and not likely to break out into a spontaneous food fight any time soon. “Hi guys, can I sit here?” are your first words. “Sure thing!” *munch munch munch*… *slightly awkward smiles*… “What’s your name?”… *(how do you spell that, I’m sorry I’ve already forgotten your name)*… “Where are you guys from?”…

DOOM. You have just entered the dreaded Groundhog-Day zone of backpacker small talk. Every day, every night, you meet countless new faces, some more, some less eager to meet new people but everyone open and interested in their surroundings and exploring new things. Yet, like some weird joke, even this most open-minded subculture can’t seem to get beyond the simplest of conversation topics. Where are you from, cause I’m no way gonna remember your name. I meet dozens of people every day, who often disappear just as fast as they came into my life, so names don’t mean much as they’re not descriptive and I don’t know how to pronounce half of them. I’ll just call you Denmark. Not much point asking what you do at home, cause you’re most likely a student or unemployed, or you’re on holiday and want to forget about your life at home for a bit. And finally, what’s your route, so I can ask you for tips and most importantly give you tips (whether you want them or not) and talk about myself and the places I’ve been (that will definitely have been way cooler when I went than when you’re planning to go.).

Hang on a second. Weren’t we so fed up with meeting people at social gatherings back home and only being able to talk about what we did for work and whether we have a mortgage yet and how it compares to renting, that we wanted to escape to the global adventure that is backpacking? Why do we find ourselves, on the other side of the planet, in a bastardized version of the same conversation? It is true that it’s hard to start up deep and meaningful relationships with people who we’ll only ever meet for a couple of hours in our lives. It’s also true that travelling is tiring, sharing space can be exhausting and sometimes we just can’t be bothered to make an effort to even keep quiet despite the awkwardness whilst sharing a table.

We’ve been doing this for such a long time though that we’re bored of it too, but more importantly have had some really surprising conversations with people that simply came out of twisting the starting topic ever so slightly. As these conversations were some of the most cherished travel moments we have, we brainstormed and want to share some inspiration with you, dear readers, so you can reach beyond standard travel talk and really find out about people and places. Next time you’re at a table, start some conversations based on these premises.

Leapfrog expected answers. If someone asks you if you’ve been to Latin America, don’t say ‘yes, it was great’. Say ‘apparently, in Peru, they eat raw Llama. That is if Llamas aren’t just made up animals, like drop bears’.

You’re setting up a new government for this revolution-torn place (especially good topic for politically unstable destinations like East Timor). What expertise can everyone at the table bring to your political party? What people studied is a good starting point, but other skills are desperately needed. Chief Llama wrangler is only one of the positions to be filled.

You’re an undercover high-flying Hollywood director who’s shooting his new movie starring Johnny Depp and everyone at the table. What’s the story, what characters are they going to be cast as and if they’re camera shy, what roles on set are they responsible/irresponsible enough to fill. Who will be chief assistant to Mr Depp’s hair artist, who’s bulky enough to be promoted to key grip and who’s looking after all the friggin Llamas.

Tell two truths and a lie about yourself. My name is Brunthilde, I have 5 cats and my grandmother flew around Europe in a Llama shaped hot air balloon. Have everyone guess which is the lie. Don’t cheat, don’t be boring. Take turns.

The table is a Zoo. Which animal would everyone be and why? Who picks the Llama first.

You’re in the Big Brother house. Identify all the different teams at the other tables, what their gameplan is and how you as a group are going to win anyway. The Swedes plan to kill everyone in their sleep so you need someone to take shifts staying up. Do so in the least suspicious way possible, the Llama at the corner table may already be on to you. Be provocative. Absurdity is underrated.

It you’re lazy, get this page on your phone and follow the instructions. No Llamas needed for this one.

Congratulations, by now you’re probably the hero of the table by having turned the conversation round. And it doesn’t stop there. What is your new president going to do as his or her first action in office? Re-naming cities, joining Eurovision or have a big gold statue of themselves erected? Go crazy, you’re all in safe hands. And that’s how you really get to know people.

The Whispered Secret of Transformation That is Spot X

All, Destinations

Warning – the following contains information about a place so beautiful that the prose that follows sometimes collapses into poetry. We’re not hippies or anything, but there will be mention of dolphins and flowers too. Sorry. Somewhere between Byron Bay and Sydney, there’s a flawless white sand beach. Southern Pacific Ocean swells wrap around a rocky headland before peeling off into perfect waves that crank left and right along the beach’s vast length. Two small, clear creeks ripple and wind through national parks and meet as new mates, right there on the beach, their babbling waters like voices coming together to speak to the sea with one mouth. If you were to stand exactly there on the sand where the creeks mingle, you’d taste salt air, stare into 27 shades of blue and be entirely satisfied that you’d found a little chunk of Aussie paradise. You’ll also have discovered a secret. You’d be standing at Spot X – possibly the best learn-to-surf secret on the planet.

Spot X is a surf school and camp owned and run by one of Rat & Dragon’s all-time favourite clients – MojoSurf. We’ve filmed their awesomeness in Bali, Lombok, Java and Byron Bay, and now we’re installed in a little surf cabin right on the water at Spot X. We call it the RaD Shack. We are, as always, working hard but true to the nature of Rat & Dragon, we’ve also found a little time to surf and smell the roses. There are no actual roses here but plenty of red or yellow hibiscus flowers. (They don’t smell at all, but you can eat them, which is even better) Metaphoric roses that can be figuratively smelled, however, include the pods of dolphins that leap and play within arms reach while you’re bobbing around on your surfboard. The creeks are full of fish, and feathered and fuzzy Australian bush characters weave themselves through the story – particularly at lunchtime when Kookaburras eye off your barbequed sausages, or at dinner when possums blink at you from among the gum trees to a backdrop of the clear, bright Milky Way.

It’s not just the creeks and creatures that come together here. Spot X is a meeting point for people from all over the world. In Europe and the Americas, whispered stories of a perfect beach are peddled by tanned youngsters that have just returned to their homes so much cooler than when they left. Conversations go like this:

Old School friend: “Sven, why are you so tanned and cool now?”

Sven: “I learned to surf and got laid on a beach.”

Old School friend: “ Damn! I’m going to Australia. ‘Spot X’ you say..?”

If you ever discover Spot X for yourself, you’d probably be joined in the surf by Sven’s old school mate. He’ll be somewhere partway between pale-to-sunburn-red awkward Euro backpacker and cool bronze surfer dude (like Sven). And that’s partly what MojoSurf does really, even though they don’t mean to. If they do actively set out to change people at all, it’s through their surf academy here at Spot X, where they train neophytes to become surfers or train surfers to become qualified surf instructors. But their main goal isn’t really to transform people. The transformation is more of a by-product. What MojoSurf does do with great purpose is to provide and facilitate the kind of travel experiences that are so enjoyable, so extreme, so far outside what many would call their regular routine, that they might just change your life.

And this is why we like working for them. The team genuinely care about surfing – they are all hardcore swell-chasers. They love the lifestyle and want to introduce it to everyone, whilst being able to run an office and health and safety and all that. As film-makers, we run around chasing people’s first moments standing up on a board, or career through crystal clear Indonesian waters chasing that shot straight down the barrel. On this stint, our Dragon is editing all this glorious footage犀利士
n> to overhaul Mojo’s visual content, whilst our Rat is learning how important triangles are as she helps construct a nearby river camp. And what better place to be – we’re surrounded by frothers.

Back in Sweden, Sven was a geeky kid who didn’t really know what he wanted to do in life. He was thinking of studying economics. He took a year out to go travelling. All of the travel experiences enriched him, and his time at Spot X was a huge part of that. He gained a new ability. He became confident in the water and unearthed a raging, life-long passion for the sea that never even existed before. He even got laid. He might still study economics of course, but he’ll hold surfing, and this hidden, whispered, secret beach in his very soul until he dies. And where might that take him?

We can’t tell you exactly how to get to Spot X, but in the days of the internet, here’s a digital clue. See you there.

5 Things To Do When You’re Jetlagged

All, Learn

So you’ve just arrived on the other side of the earth. Your eyeballs are almost hanging out of your head, you’re that damn tired, but it’s only mid-afternoon, so you can’t go to sleep now. You’ve got to power through to a reasonable local bedtime so you get a decent, timezone-adjusted sleep tonight. Then you’ll be fine, right?

You’re forgetting the fact that you are in the mighty clutches of the modern jetsetters evil Chucky. Terrorizing businessmen, flight attendants and supermodels around the world, he is such a little ass that he even got onto our time-zone-crossing train last year. We sh*t you not. Like us, hurtling through the darkness of the -30 degrees Siberian night still firmly stuck on Moscow time, you too will soon find your hopes of slumber shattered by all kinds of wrong. You went to bed at 10pm but now it’s 3:30am and you’re wide awake, fighting to go back to sleep but struggling to make sense of life, yourself and the world in general.

Bad news. You’re jetlagged, my friend. You may have prepped by adjusting to your destination time zone as soon as you get on the plane, eating just yoghurt and quinoa 3 days before travelling and tracking your light exposure through your freshly downloaded Entrain app. But after walking out of the arrivals gate, blinking at the California sun or bright lights of Picadilly Circus in the rain you may still be off your flamin’ chops. And after making it through a whole day of zombiedom, not being able to fall asleep when everyone else has conked out will seem like the worst irony in the world you’ve just partially circumnavigated.

Just imagine what those NASA space-dudes in their little toothpaste tube in outer orbit must feel like. All. The. Time. Studies on mice have shown that switching Mickey’s sunlight bulbs and food deliveries on 6 hours ahead of time activated a huge amount of little mouse-genes. Then this tiny protein aptly named ‘SIK1’ went around their little bodies switching all the genes off again. Whilst SIK1 helps mouse and human body clocks stay stable despite artificial light and full moons, it also ends up causing confusion and jetlag. Good news? You’re not a NASA space-monkey or an albino cheese eater. You have the benefit of gravity and a whole new world to explore. Get up! There’s plenty of stuff you can do to keep your sanity intact and maybe even feel a little productive. I mean, you’re already having a chuckle at this awesome post, right?

Check out our suggestions and don’t worry. Everything is going to be amazing.

Porn. Ok, this one is not productive at all but might just help you wipe away the stresses of travel with one fell stroke. Well, maybe a few strokes. Boy or girl, go on; try it. You’re online, after all. Unless you’re in a dorm room, in which case, don’t even think about it. Stop it. Just no!

Find something fascinating to read or listen to. Heard of the ‘Serial’ podcasts? Have you read Shantaram? Seen our latest piece of Rat & Dragon pondering? Of course we’re going to say that, but truly, since travel is obviously your thing, and you’re awake anyway – take a look at the World Wide Web BEYOND Buzzfeed. There’s some really pretty good stuff out there. You might even discover something amazing about your current location, or read something that will inspire your next journey. Go!

Write your own blog post. Don’t have a blog? Start one! Actually, you don’t even need to blog it, just write about something that you found interesting recently. You needn’t be an expert on the subject, you could just conjecture and write about what you think of it. It’s quite satisfying to read it back to yourself, and who knows, there might be some other nutjobs out there that your post really resonates with. If you like it, get a free wordpress blog and upload your new masterpiece. Congrats! You now have a blog following.

Make a list. Shopping list? Yawn. To Do list? You should already have one of those. How about a Bucket List? Get inspired and write down all the things you’d like to experience or achieve before you die. Write your own superstar obituary. Don’t worry about figuring out how/if you can actually do it. First just make the list. If you already have a bucket list, just list random stuff: people at work you’d secretly love to shag, vegetables you’d happily never eat again, all the assholes you went to high-school with, all the stuff you love/hate about your girlfriend/boyfriend/pet/children…. The list goes on. Read it in the morning and decide whether to stick it on the fridge or burn it.

Have a drink and get some air. Put some clothes on and go to the balcony, an open window or the front door. Destroy that dehydration like Mr T destroys snickers bars. Become a midnight Ninja and take a hyper real look at your slumbering surroundings.

If you’re home after a big trip, just breathe the familiar air deeply and reflect on how it all looks a bit different since the mind-bending experiences you’ve just had in your life on the road. Does your familiar old street somehow seem smaller now? Safer? More restrictive? Or do you feel more free? If you find yourself on the far side of the planet, savour the different flavours and smells in the air – the different temperature and humidity. Listen for sounds of unknown nocturnal street life. Watch the rats and stray cats and night-urchins in the alley. Observe different constellations in the sky. If you stay up long enough, this may be the only sunrise in your fresh travel destination you’ll be up early enough to enjoy.

Exploring the world when everyone else is asleep, nodding knowingly at a passing cat at 3am pretending to be batman makes you feel like you’re in some sort of exclusive super villain club. And when you’re far away from everyone you know, you get the unique chance see a different side to the traveller’s destinations your fellow adventurers only see during civilised hours. Watch bakers set up at 4am and harbour hands get ready for a day’s fishing. You’re on the other side of the world, goddamnit. It’s chock-full of new and wondrous experiences. Don’t waste a moment!

All in all, we find jetlag can be quite fun. The detached zombie-like state during daytime is a little bit like a drug hit without the potential criminality or embarrassment of scoring Miau Miau off left-wing uni students. It also comes with a bit of a drunkard’s ‘don’t give a sh*t’ attitude, a sense of not quite being in your own body, coupled with finding everything randomly hilarious. And nighttimes are just magical, especially when something biological forces you out of your 9-5 routine and makes you see a moment for what it is – a moment in itself, without being swallowed up by your daily humdrum life (who’s the real zombie here?). Embrace jetlag and make it work to your advantage. You’ll soon see how much fun you can have.

Why photos look different when you travel

All, Learn

The first glimpse of our newest destination lay ahead of us, just a small sheet of plastic window between our noses and the vast expanse of South East Asia’s biggest country. We were hurtling through the skies at ‘one tea with milk and a coffee please’ speeds in our little Air Asia capsule eagerly awaiting our arrival in Myanmar. Dramatic cloud formations caused some turbulence, but despite our prime position at the front of the wing, there was surprisingly little to see. An all-encompassing pastel-ochre haze stretched as far as the eye could reach in between big fluffy white clouds, teasing our curiosity to breaking point.

On the bus from the airport we saw what was going on. One hour of dusty scorched and empty rice paddies rolled past our window, baring witness to the final stage of Asia’s cyclical life-supporting rice agriculture: the epic burn off. All around Asia farmers had been harvesting rice, then torching fields to break down nutrients in preparation for the next season’s rice sewing, creating the world’s biggest haze cloud. During our 3-week journey from Mandalay to Yangon we witnessed entire hillsides ablaze with slow, controlled fires, which were especially impressive at night and most awe inspiring at our homestay monastery near Kalaw. In the pitch black, silhouettes of the monks paced through the flaming, smoking fractures in the otherwise impenetrable rural darkness, patiently tending to the little streams of yellow-red fires.

There are many factors apart from your equipment and settings (ISO, Aperture, Shutterspeed, Sensor and Lenses – here’s a great tutorial) that play a part in the photography you create. The burn off colour hues and blood-red sunsets brought a distinct atmosphere to our trip through Myanmar, which would have been completely different story at another time of year. But what causes the red-tinge everywhere? Well, dear reader, welcome to the phenomena of lighting and colour. Anyone who’s seen Pink Floyd’s album cover to ‘The Dark Side of the Moon’ in their dad’s (or own – good on ya!) record collection will know that daylight is white but made up of a whole colour spectrum. This straight rainbow emerging from the backside of a prism is actually only an 80^th of the whole measurable light spectrum – depending on how you calculate, this is the most generous estimate. The spectrum includes all sorts of fancy things such as UV rays, microwaves, radio and X rays, which are invisible to humans – but not to bees. Clever bees. Weather, the atmosphere, water, big bulky buildings standing in between you and the sun all have an effect on how light and thus colour enters your lens and hits your sensor. And just like for next month’s successful rice planting session, the burnoff is a great place to start.

Natural or ambient light comes from the sun and is measured in energy. Bright white sunlight is measured with an energy level of around 5500 Kelvin, blue light at around 7500 kelvin, then yellow orange and red (3200, 2500 and 1500 k respectively). The higher the number, the shorter the wavelength and more powerful the light is. Just to give you an idea, lasers are artificially created to have very directional light waves amplified to hit a very small area and are energetic enough to melt metal and blow up James Bond’s crotch. It’s important at this stage to not confuse energetic value with physical temperature. The higher the Kelvin, the bluer and whiter the light gets, which is counter to our emotional perception of ‘warm’ colours like red and yellow being, well, full of energy and… warmer. Lasers aren’t hot themselves; they merely have the energy to displace molecules in James’ crotch (which get hot when they’re displaced).

Our burnoff did two things. Firstly, all the little particles in the air acted as a bit of a filter, which made the light coming from the sun a lot less directional and harsh. Imagine a nice, translucent curtain blocking some of the sunlight coming through your window and making your breakfast a lot more pleasant. This meant that Myanmar didn’t look like a stark, contrasty scene in the Nevada desert, but an evenly lit, vibrant summer’s afternoon. Shadow edges were less pronounced and there was a lot more detail in the highlights and darker areas, which would have been completely blown out (white) with pitch-black shadows in our Nevada example. The second thing the burn off did is really interesting. When white sunlight hits the atmosphere, around 15% of it bounces off, is absorbed by particles or changes course slightly but continues through to the ground. Blue light has a high energetic value and short wavelength (lots of ups and downs in a short space of time) and is scattered a lot more when it hits the atmosphere than other colours. That’s why, on a clear, sunny day, the sky looks blue. It’s all those little blue wavelengths being knocked about by oxygen and nitrogen particles, like a fishing net that only catches hyper fish but lets the relaxed ones through. Red light, that has a much longer wavelength, gets through the atmosphere a lot easier, and is also better at slipping past the burn off particles, meaning more of it gets to where we’re standing on the ground. Et voila, Myanmar has a red tinge.

This stuff is also happening every day, in your back garden, as the scattering of blue wavelengths is particularly prominent at sunset. During the day, the sun has a relatively straightforward layer of atmosphere to shoot its rays through, as we and the part of land we stand on are straight down through the atmosphere. But at sunset, the light travels from the sun at a low angle, and has a lot more atmosphere to go through before it reaches us. The same beam of light that leaves the sun and travels at a 90-degree angle through the atmosphere and hits Dragon in the face in Spain at midday needs to travel at a 45-degree angle through a cross section of atmosphere to hit Rat in the retina at 6pm in Kazakhstan. That’s a lot more gas molecules to get in the way of blue wavelengths, so Rat sees only leftover red where Dragon still sees blue, green, yellow, orange and red (=white).

Sunset and sunrise times are so prized by photographers and cinematographers that this part of day is referred to as the ‘golden hour’. Light is refracted, so everything looks really well lit and soft, the yellow-red tinge ads approachable warmth (psychological, not Kelvin) and romantic mood. Get this: during golden hour, the sun isn’t your only significant light source. And we’re not talking about big city lights. The fact is, there’s not just direct light coming from the sun, but indirect light coming from everything around you, most importantly the huge umbrella straight above your head – the sky. During daytime, the sun’s direct light dominates all other indirect light, but in the golden hour, the sun’s direct light takes a step back and lets the colours coming down from the sky have fun at the party too. For you photographers, the lighting ration between your key light (the sun) and your fill light (the indirect sunlight coming down from the sky) is low, meaning less contrast and richer colours resulting from a fuller dynamic range.

Whilst chasing golden hour is every photographer’s prerogative, bare in mind it means getting up really early and getting to bed pretty late. ‘Hour’ is also misleading, as the time it takes for the sun to rise or set varies dramatically depending on seasons and how close you are to the equator. Shooting significant footage at golden hour may be doable in Iceland, but you’ll get approximately 37 seconds in Kenya. On top of that, the closer to the equator you are the higher display of colour ranges you get. Wondered why your pics from India look so much more vibrant than the ones back home? This isn’t just the holiday cocktails talking. Scientifically, you’re onto something as the higher your latitude, the higher the Kelvin value of your dominant colour spectrum is. We’re desperately researching why this is, but no one seems to know. If you have pointers, shout. This means that if you take exactly the same red coat and photograph it in Sweden and Sri Lanka, it will look like it’s a richer tone of red in Sri Lanka, as opposed to a more blue-tinted red in Sweden.

All fascinating stuff. But what do we hear you say? When you went scuba diving that time, everything came out really blue ‘cause the red was filtered out first? Well, congratulations, you are 100% right. Show off that PADI certificate proudly to family, friends and random people in your close vicinity. Hold your horses though, as we have a surprise. Water acts differently to air. Yup, crazy stuff.

Whilst the blue wavelengths are scattered by gas molecules in the atmosphere, they are actually quite good at keeping on going through denser water. When blue scatters in the sky, it doesn’t disappear. It paints the whole sky blue by whizzing around from molecule to molecule like a tiny pod-race. In water it whizzes down into the depths for a lot longer than low energy red wavelengths. Red gets absorbed relatively soon after entering through the water’s surface and colliding with H₂0 molecules, making them vibrate and thus heating the upper layers of your kid’s paddling pool. So in the sky, blue light keeps whizzing around like the Stig, and red light meanders through the atmosphere. But in water, blue light ambitiously aims for the depths, and red light turns into heat close to the surface.

In all of these examples, the lighting conditions aren’t meant to be a hindrance. Different environments create different moods and you can get some stunningly atmospheric shots on cloudy, rainy days, in the shade, haze and blearing, direct sunlight. It’s a good idea though to capture as much colour information as possible, so you can chose later which bits to keep and which ones to tone down. When you’re scubadiving, consider a red filter that puts red back into the picture. Or take a torch. When you’re somewhere with a lot of glare, use a polarizer. And in general, take whatever conditions you find travelling as an opportunity to create unexpected moments caught for the world to enjoy.

Myanmar swaps surnames for an 8th weekday

All, Inspire

We’re not usually one to dabble with mysticism, the occult or superstition. We have had to deal with quite a fair share of “yeah man, don’t worry, your bus will arrive at around mid day” prompting a 4 hour wait at the side of the road. But on the whole, we like to know that the bus we booked does actually exist. “Jah will provide” doesn’t work well when you’re running a business and Jah has obviously never heard of a functioning internet connection. However, there was something about our recent trip to Myanmar that tickled our fancy. Not that it applied to us any more than our very Chinese “lucky match” in our company name (in fact, it did less so), but by the way Myanmar’s 8-day week completely and utterly dominates people’s lives. If you’re not that into star signs, then see this as a quirky piece of anthropology. If you are into star signs, well, then put down that Heat Magazine, sister, ‘cause in Myanmar it gets really interesting.

Whilst around 90% of people in Myanmar follow Theravada Buddhism, that believes karma is the main source of influence in a person’s life, most Burmese Buddhists are strong believers of the Hindi Brahman idea that astrology determines your fate in life, love, business, school, travel and knitting competitions. They divide the week into 8 days (yes, 8! we’ll explain…) and each day is assigned a planet, a direction, an animal sign and interestingly the first letter of a name (more on that later). This all seems relatively straightforward until we look at our schedule. Where does this extra day come from? Well, our wonderful guide Kay explained in the car as we sped through busy Yangon: “Wednesday afternoon is it’s own day called Yarhu. It’s not considered as a significant day of week and not printed in calendars.” It seems the sun doesn’t take that much notice either. No spontaneous mid-day setting and rising going on here. And as if that wasn’t complicated enough, traditional western zodiac applies as well as 27 lunar stages (one for each day of the lunar month, which is 27.3 days long). Cosmo, eat your heart out.

Rat & Dragon. If you’ve read our first ever blog post, you’ll know where we got the inspiration for our name. Luckily for us, the Chinese Zodiac combination of our birth years is one of the strongest out there. We don’t mind either way, but the positive vibe our combination emits has been quite an asset when we’ve been doing projects in Asia. Now we find out that we have yet another animal to add to the mix. Our Dragon, being born on a Sunday, is now also a garuda (a mythical bird-man creature) and our Saturday’s Rat, well, ironically, she’s also a dragon. If you’re Monday, you’re a tiger, Tuesday’s a lion (possibility of ligers here, Napoleon), Wednesday morning a tusked elephant, Wednesday afternoon a tuskless elephant, Thursday’s a rat and Friday’s… well…. Friday’s a guinea pig.

For good measure, there’s also an animal called a Ketu, that’s made up of the antlers of a deer, the tusks and trunk of an elephant, the mane of a lion, the body of a naga serpent/dragon and the tail of a fish. It sits and watches over all the other animals, but has no astronomical necessity. It does happen to fit quite nicely in the middle of this handy diagram, as well as be aligned with the animist ‘Ceremony of the nine Gods’, that is usually held in Myanmar when someone in your household is ill or doesn’t want to go to gym class. Complete coincidence we’re sure.

A handy diagram

Then there are the directions. When you look closely at Burmese Pagodas, you’ll find each one has 8 cardinal points. Look up your direction, find it and light some incense. You may (as many Burmese) have recently visited an astrologer, fortune-teller or Buddhist monk in preparation for your upcoming major life event of buying a car, or deciding what colour to paint your house. The astrologer/hippy/monk may have determined you are under the evil influence of another sign that must first be appeased. Go light some incense at that sign too. The planetary posts of Saturn (Saturday’s dragon) and Rahu (Wednesday afternoon’s tuskless elephant) are usually more crowded, as they are notoriously mischievous planets and greatly feared.

Compared by some to a westerner’s trip to a councillor, your mental well-being will be nourished as you do good deeds like meditating, offering flowers and incense, donating money and striking the big bells around the pagoda to share the merit you have gained by living with your fellow creatures great and small on the thirty-one planes of existence. We’d love to go into these planes, but one blog post can only be so long. Secondly, as you’re meditating away, you are wooing your birth-day’s corresponding guardian spirit, or appeasing the spirit dominating you with bad luck. Pour some cups of water (equivalent to your age, if you are systematically inclined), on the planetary post concerned. After these rituals, Kay assures us, we feel better and go home in a happier frame of mind. Burmese people work very hard, many live in poverty and some in appalling conditions. In this case, not having the western outlook of blaming yourself for your circumstances, but knowing you’ll be looked after if you perform very simple and set rituals is a way of keeping going in the face of adversity. It’s way cheaper than Harley Street Shrinks Ltd. and there’s practical things you can do to improve your Karma, like being nice to strangers. In addition, there’s the very Burmese concept of ‘Cetana’, being nice for the sake of being nice, for which the only acceptable payment is gratitude. Maybe this is why we were so enchanted with this country.

Apart from various vague characteristics attributed to birth-days (Monday = jealous, Tuesday = honest, Wednesday morning = short tempered but soon calm again, Wednesday afternoon = the same but more intense, Thursday = mild, Friday = talkative, Saturday = hot tempered, Sunday = miserly), which we couldn’t confirm personally (we are all of these, any days of the week), there was a final massive influence of this belief system on Burmese people. When a child is born, an astrologer will create a Zar Tar, an inscribed palm leaf book, declaring the child’s astrological calculations of the location of stars and the sun, as well as the date and time of birth and, most importantly, the fresh-baked sprog’s name. And this is the really cool part. Not only is the day of your birth vitally important when working out your love life, your possible success in a maths test and the luck you’ll have with your new scooter. But how do you find out if you and your partner’s astrological pre-determination are compatible? Is your first question on a date not “so what do you do?” but “so what day did you pop into this world”? Luckily, there’s a quick way to tell, as the week-day you were born on determines your name.

Unlike pretty much most parts of the rest of the world, Burmese don’t have surnames. Nope. None. Nada. Niete. Nasdarovie. Burmese naming is done via, you guessed it, astrology. Monday’s names start with K, HK, G and Ng (such as Khin or Khine). Tuesdays with Sa and Za (San or Zaw), Wednesday’s with Ya, Ra, La and Wa (Yamin or Rarzar), Thursday’s with Pa, Hpa, Ba and Ma (Myo, Poe or Ba), Friday’s with Tha and Ha (Thiha, Thura or Han), Saturday’s with T, Ht, D and Na (Tun, Htoo, Dwae or Nandar) and Sundays with vowels (such as Aye, Ei or Oo). Our guide Kay was a Monday child. Our nice receptionist Thet Wai was born on Friday. Going by this system, our Dragon and Rat should have been born on a Tuesday.

This makes it way easier to determine a good match, providing your love isn’t lying to you on Myanmarlove.com. The unusual naming system means that children have names that can bear no relation to their parent’s names. They are usually made up of one, two, three or even four syllables, with one syllable names (Ba, Mya, Hla) found in some older people but generally outdated and impractical in a nation of 53 million inhabitants. Middle aged people generally hold two syllable names (Zaw Moe, K

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