Batu Caves
I travelled to Malaysia, Kuala Lumpur just for one day and decided to visit Batu Caves just one more time cause last time the weather was dull and cloudy and I was hoping that I got sun this time (spoiler: I did).
I travelled to Malaysia, Kuala Lumpur just for one day and decided to visit Batu Caves just one more time cause last time the weather was dull and cloudy and I was hoping that I got sun this time (spoiler: I did).
Early got up, around 6am, shower, hotel breakfast, taxi and I’m at Batu Caves. There is a quit long and high stairs to get to the main cave. But this time it was quit easy for me, maybe because I didn’t focus on it and mostly focused on taking pictures.
Anyway during my climbing to the top I didn’t shot anything useful, just couple of warm up shots.
I used Leica MP with 35mm Summilux and boy I love internal light meter. Previously I used only cameras without light meter so I need to meter fist and then adjust everything on the camera but now I did not need to do it and it was such a relief. I explain why. Conditions outside the cave and inside the cave are obviously different but also the weather was cloudy and different shadows so I needed to adjust camera settings quit a lot and this little indicator in the viewfinder helped a lot to not fucked up.
So I finally was inside the cave and man it’s huge, I was there before, but now with this light and shadows it looked so epic.
Monkeys were everywhere but they were not aggressive, did’t try to steel anything from anyone, they just bagged for food. But anyway I hided all the stuff I had so they could not steel something they somehow like.
Firstly I did far away shots, I mean far away from monkeys but quickly understood that they are not interested at all in my photography and besides they let me come very close while I was looking in the viewfinder, hiding besides the camera. Shutter is also very silent so it did not frighten them.
I’ve spent two hours in the cave tried to make some monkey portraits, sometimes got lucky. And time to time observed the continuous conflict between monks and monkeys who tried to steel some bananas and other fruits that belonged to monks and laid on the altar.
Afterwards I went down the stairs and this time I was more lucky and brave to take pictures of the monkeys in close distance.
At the foot is a large square and lots of people feed pigeons and also monkeys. I drank some water and found myself in the middle of the square, shooting all this mess.
Finally the time was up and I need to went back to the hotel and move to the airport.
Need to mention that I almost missed my flight that day, luckily it was delayed and also my camera couldn’t resist all this sweat from my hands and got rust on the lens release button but I would know about it later after returning back to Vietnam.
Pagoda
The sun hung high in the sky, casting golden light over the city as I stepped out, camera in hand. It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon—one of those slow-moving days when Vietnam breathes at a different rhythm. Sunday is family time here. Fewer shops open, fewer people rush, and instead, parks and temples fill with laughter, quiet conversations, and the scent of burning incense.
The sun hung high in the sky, casting golden light over the city as I stepped out, camera in hand. It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon—one of those slow-moving days when Vietnam breathes at a different rhythm. Sunday is family time here. Fewer shops open, fewer people rush, and instead, parks and temples fill with laughter, quiet conversations, and the scent of burning incense.
This time, I set my path towards something new—a Buddhist temple, a place untouched by my lens before. As I approached, the air shifted. The world outside faded, replaced by the hypnotic sounds flowing from within. The deep hum of monks chanting prayers, rhythmic and steady. The gong’s solemn echo dividing verses. A moment suspended between the physical and the spiritual.
The temple was alive, yet serene. Tet had just ended, and families who had returned from their hometowns gathered here, their prayers rising with the smoke of burning incense.
I watched as they lit sticks one after another, eyes closed, whispering words known only to them and the heavens above. Some prayed in silence, others captured the moment, preserving it in photographs just as I did, though for different reasons.
I moved carefully, blending into the space, never wanting to disturb. My lens sought faces lost in devotion, hands pressed together, flickering candlelight reflecting in their eyes. Each frame a quiet story.
Monks walked the temple grounds, their pace unhurried, their expressions neither inviting nor dismissive. Life carried on here in its own time.
Beyond the main hall, in the open courtyard, a towering Buddha stood watch. People knelt before it, arms stretched out, offerings of flowers and incense placed at its feet. The scent of burning wood filled the air, thick and sweet, as a temple worker moved between the crowds, gently clearing away the overflowing tributes, dousing embers before they could turn to flame.
And then, the sun began its slow descent. Shadows stretched, the golden hue softened, and with it, the music of the prayers faded into silence. The monks, their duty done, disappeared into the halls for their evening meal. Yet people still arrived, still knelt, still prayed. Their faith unshaken by time.
I lingered, hoping for one last sacred frame, but my film rolls had run their course—just as I had. With the final shot taken, I let the temple go. A taxi waited beyond the gates, the city’s rhythm calling me back.
And so, I left. But the scent of incense stayed with me.
Hundred Flowers
March 8th, 6:00 AM, the morning was rough—only three hours of sleep. A quick shower, a few rolls of HP5 tossed into my bag, and my small flash, just in case. I grabbed my Leica MP, picked up an energy drink from a corner store, and set off toward the city center.
March 8th, 6:00 AM, the morning was rough—only three hours of sleep. A quick shower, a few rolls of HP5 tossed into my bag, and my small flash, just in case. I grabbed my Leica MP, picked up an energy drink from a corner store, and set off toward the city center.
The Grab driver dropped me near the Saigon Opera House. The parade routes were already closed off, the streets buzzing with anticipation. It was 7:45 AM, and the morning light was still kind—long shadows stretched across the pavement, buildings shielding the crowds from the rising sun. People stood in clusters, dressed in vibrant costumes, their faces painted with precision, ready to bring the day to life.
I started shooting. The hats, the backlit faces—it was tricky. I reached for my flash, not just to lift the shadows but also to experiment: ISO 400, harsh daylight, and artificial light—how would it play out?
Then, the parade began. Movement unfolded in waves, each group marching forward, pausing for photos, careful not to overlap their own procession. I started at a distance, counting my flash cycles, gauging its reach. Then, step by step, I moved in closer.
At first, the formations felt rigid, predictable. Lines of marchers, orderly and rehearsed—not quite what I was searching for. The colours were undoubtedly dazzling, the makeup striking, but I was shooting in black and white. I needed character.
Then, as the procession ended, the atmosphere shifted. The performers relaxed, the staged grandeur melting into something more raw and spontaneous. This was it. I got closer. Closer. Adjusted the flash. Click. Adjusted again. Click.
An hour in, I noticed the flash losing power. I ducked into the nearest store for AAA batteries—one of the perks of this tiny Godox im30 flash, running on everyday power sources.
By the time I'd burned through a couple of rolls, the sun was directly overhead. Noon. Time for a cold drink, a quiet corner, and a moment in the shade. I exhaled. The chase was over.
Saigon Post Office
As always, I've ventured to a new place. This time it was the Saigon Post Office—a major tourist attraction that still serves its original purpose. The beautiful French architectural building, filled with tourists, offered great opportunities for different scenario shots. With my new Leica MP equipped with a Summilux 35mm Steel Rim reissue (which I'm still getting acquainted with) and a bunch of Ilford HP5, I felt like a kid in a candy shop searching for the best treats.
As always, I've ventured to a new place. This time it was the Saigon Post Office—a major tourist attraction that still serves its original purpose. The beautiful French architectural building, filled with tourists, offered great opportunities for different scenario shots. With my new Leica MP equipped with a Summilux 35mm Steel Rim reissue (which I'm still getting acquainted with) and a bunch of Ilford HP5, I felt like a kid in a candy shop searching for the best treats.
And I’ve ruined so many shots because liked how they looked closer in my mind, maybe worked with 50mm but too far for 35mm. Fortunately time to time I’ve remembered that I use 35mm and composed better.
Need to mention that I can’t be more lucky of using such a wonderful camera and lens!
Internal light meter and f1.4 helps a lot. It’s mentioned so many times by different photographers that f1.4 is for special occasions only and should be more thoughtfully used but I didn’t care and used it as much as I could during my photo journey.
I was sneaking behind people, almost invisible, taking photos with such a silent shutter, getting closer and closer, sometimes not in my comfort zone, but for the best shots. After a while, I started hunting for some people, trying to take the best shots, calming myself down so as not to distract people too much. But at the end of the day, I realised that no one cares, even if I was too close, taking a photo, everyone was in their own world, thinking about what to write on their postcards and how to make a quest to send these cards to their loved ones.
I hunted all day until almost closing time. And as the crowds became fewer and fewer, the beauty of the place became undeniable. The small shops still distracted from the view a little, but it was better than nothing.
I finished the last roll and headed home, eager to quickly develop and scan all these photos, as always, by myself.