THE AUSTRALIAN FELLA

Sticking around Kuta’s streets by night with the « Australian Fella » is quite something!

When he don’t run around naked or sit on the street floor, smocking cigarettes and drinking strong local alcohol with young Balinese fan of Death Metal, this man enjoy pouring alcohol on people’s feet.

I met him while running along the streets, looking for pictures opportunities and he naturally stick out of the box.
When I saw the guy the first time I thought

« -It’s gonna be a great night! »

And indeed it was!

PELLING ZERØ

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June 2011, a bit before midnight, its raining like crazy here. I am in Pelling, a little village in the Est of the Himalayan range, at the bottom of the Kanchenjunga, the 3rd highest mountain in the world. Continuer la lecture de PELLING ZERØ

BALI REVIVAL

Stand Still StanceMiss CallFlight Of The ConchordsSmearmuringISO Crash TestRoll Scrape Sk8

Crazy nights at Ecobeach !

2015 is at its end, suffocating under its own vices, drugs, alcools, heavy music, surf, sk8 and old man’s bitch. Those who know where to go meet at Pretty Poison, the Underground Rendez-vous of Bali.

2016 is about to rise and we kill the previous year the way we can. No Excuse, no Fear and no Limits.

This is it beach! Welcome to Pretty Poison’s Nights

TANAKA

September 2012 Back to south east Asia after a 7 month trip in New Zealand. I settle down at the Thai-Birman border in the little village of Mae Sot. As usual for travelers who wanna stay longer I do visa runs every two weeks. In other word every 12 days when my previous visa expire I go (by bike) to Myawaddy the first birman village after the  customs. Over there I often to the market where I used to buy some cheap cigarette (cheaper than Thai one but much better), drink a Birman tea and come back to the Thai customs were I can got an other 2 weeks visa for free. Usually it takes me few hours, the border itself is not that interesting and appart from what I need shopping in those kind of between-countrys markets is not my fave things to do. But this particular day I meet a Birman man with a great smile while I was taking my tea in one of the very simple cafe at the border. Few wooden boards under a roof and few table to sit was large enough to have what you can call a cafe in south east Asia. This Young Birmese  offers to show me few things around and as I like the personality of the man I accept. My bike was park at the Thai side of the border so I jump in his "Taxi". A 3 wheel bicycle with a sit in the front. We went together in various places, a nearby temple with a huge crocodile statue and a shantytown surround by mud (We were walking in brown water and I was bare foot every day of the year back in this time). In this place he ask me not to take pictures because of the politic of the country. Latter we stop at a small empty restaurant were we eat some rice biryanie and drank some Birman beers. In the entrance came a young kid with some tanaka on his face. I ask if I could take a picture of him and after few shot I got this portrait of him.
September 2012 Back to south east Asia after a 7 month trip in New Zealand. I settle down at the Thai-Birman border in the little village of Mae Sot. As usual for travelers who wanna stay longer I do visa runs every two weeks. In other word every 12 days when my previous visa expire I go (by bike) to Myawaddy the first Birman village after the customs. Over there I often pass by the market where I use to buy some cheap cigarette (cheaper than Thai one but much better), drink a Birman tea and come back to the Thai customs were I can have an other 2 weeks visa for free. Usually it takes me few hours, the border itself is not that interesting and apart from what I need, shopping in those kind of between-country markets is not my fave things to do. But this particular day I meet a Birman man with a great smile while I was taking my tea in one of the very simple cafe at the border. Few wooden boards under a roof and few table to sit was large enough to have what you can call a cafe in south east Asia. This Young Birmese offers to show me few things around and as I like the personality of the man I accept. My bike was park at the Thai side of the border so I jump in his « Taxi ». A 3 wheel bicycle with a sit in the front. We went together in various places, a nearby temple with a huge crocodile statue and a shantytown surround by mud (We were walking in brown water and I was bare foot every day of the year back in this time). In this place he ask me not to take pictures because of the politic of the country. Latter we stop at a small empty restaurant were we ate some rice biryanie and drank some Birman beers. In the entrance came a young kid with some tanaka on his face. I ask if I could take a picture of him and after few shot I got this portrait of him.

HIMALAYAN PORTER

Already high in the middle of the himalaya while trekking around the Annapurna's peaks. On the road, sometimes while climbing a steep slope, a flip flop is laying on the flor. Single, durty and old, it was abandonne here long time ago by who knows who. Few days latter the answer to the question went obvious. We came across a groupe of  porter. Climbing slope at their own rate. For them to stop is unthinkable. They do rest time by time on the border of the road but only when the design of the road permit it. There is not way to stop in a narrow path of the muddy trail you came across most of the time, especialy when there is stairs. Looking at there feet I realise they were the one wearing plastic shoes and flip flop where most of the trekker used to wear montaing shoes, hight and solid. Suddenly a vision came to me. The struggle of a porter carrying his 100 of kilos of unnessesary things tourist may need at the top, struggleling with the steep slope and the stair and loosing one shoes in the mudd, comdamne to keep going with a bare foot. He never went back to take it. Own courageous a person must be to do that. Since that day I never look at a porter the same way
This picture was taken somewhere, deep in Nepal, already high in the middle of the Himalaya while trekking around the Annapurna’s peaks! Few time during the trek I spot flip-flops laying down, dead, on the ground ! Single, dirty and old, it was abandoned here, on a sleep slop, long time ago, by who knows who. Few days latter the answer to the question went obvious. We came across a group of porter. They were climbing slope at their own rate. For them to stop is unthinkable. They do rest, time by time on the border of the road but only when the design of the road permit it. There is not way to stop in a narrow path of the muddy trail you came across most of the time in the Himalaya, especially when there is stairs. Looking at their feet I realize they were the one wearing plastic shoes and flip flop when most of the time, trekkers used to wear mountain shoes, high and solid. Suddenly a vision came to me. The struggle of a porter carrying his 100 of kilos of unnecessary things tourist may need at the top, struggling with the steep slopes and the stairs, loosing one shoes in the mud, condemned to keep going with a bare foot. He never went back to take it. How courageous a person must be to do that. Since that day I never look at a porter the same way.

LA CAGE

Mae Sot, little thai village at the Mayanmar border. Over there on the other side, Myawaddy, first Burmese village. Strange border, cross point of visa runner and refugees! On the way to my guest house, in one of the loony streets of the town, there is this place, a cage. Here burmese refugees catch by the Thai police because they have no papers are waiting to be send back to the contry they just flee. Without  legal right to stay anywhere, those people are constantly between life and death. The thai police have to send them back and , back to burma no one knows what will happen to them. Some time those people never really get back to their contry. Storys of boat full of refugees rescued while drifting oversee claim they have been left for dead on the boat in the middle of the ocean. Sad but true there is no word to discribe the situation of the Burmese refugees. Persecuted wherever they go, from the Bungladesh border where they are no longer accepted to the Thai border, from the North of their own contry to the very south. This picture, is here to remind things like that existe.  Good luck guys
Mae Sot, little thai village at the Mayanmar border. Over there on the other side, Myawaddy, first Burmese village. Strange border, cross point of visa runner and refugees!
On the way to my guest house, in one of the loony streets of the town, there is this place, a cage. Here burmese refugees catch by the Thai police because they have no papers are waiting to be send back to the contry they just flee. Without legal right to stay anywhere, those people are constantly between life and death. The thai police have to send them back and , back to burma no one knows what will happen to them. Some time those people never really get back to their contry. Storys of boat full of refugees rescued while drifting oversee claim they have been left for dead on the boat in the middle of the ocean. Sad but true there is no word to discribe the situation of the Burmese refugees. Persecuted wherever they go, from the Bungladesh border where they are no longer accepted to the Thai border, from the North of their own contry to the very south. This picture, is here to remind things like that existe.
Good luck guys

HOW I MEET LAURA

What is magic in live is the way you get lost. Wherever you go, get lost and you’re sure to find THE way. That’s how we find things in this life.

During our experience on earth the Universe guide us, and sometimes to see the way, you need to follow other than your own path.

Not surprisingly we find the way of the Universe when we lost control of our own way.

No matter how your lost : In your Mind, in your Dream, in your relationship or just in your favourite city.

And so, the last Great time I was lost, without knowing it, I find the way. Cause the last time I went lost I meet Laura.

Continuer la lecture de HOW I MEET LAURA

TALE FOR WOMEN AND MEN

« A woman’s highest calling is to lead a man to his soul; so as to

unite with Source, her lowest calling is to seduce; separate man from soul, and leave him aimlessly wandering.

A man’s highest calling is to protect woman; so she is free to walk the earth unharmed, man’s lowest calling is to ambush and force way into life of woman. »

~ Cherokee Proverb

Continuer la lecture de TALE FOR WOMEN AND MEN