Richard Stupart

Its a funny thing. Tripping down to Cape Town and booking into the Carnival Court backpackers (a fantastic little place if you are ever in the area and have need of a backpackers) and noticed a possible trend here. In Bangkok, those who have been will know about Khaosan Road – that noisy, messy, party filled wonderland of food and clubs and backpackers, spilling hippies and adventurers onto the road until the wee hours of the morning. Equally, in Vietnam, it was Pham Ngu Lao – the backpacker ghetto where all of the wealth of the world’s travellers condense into a humid, vietnamese mess of bars and buying and weird and wonderful guest houses crammed thick on the roadside.

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“Beauty is fleeting and arrives on its own terms always.

Holding onto it is little more than caging the wind.”

At long last, I have finally gotten around to framing the pics from the South East Asian adventure. Not all of them, mind you, as 12Gb of printed photos would probably pave a road from here to Krugersdorp (yes, that is how much footage we managed to take off our four or so cameras). As someone who has framed less pictures than he would have fingers left after a horrific machinery accident, a great deal of thought has gone into the enterprise. My general attitude towards framing pictures was that it is little more than a desperate attempt to fill empty space with sickening pictures of chubby nephews and baby photos. Which I would love to record with the same zest and vigour as high resolution images of athlete’s foot.

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