Last week, I found myself at the Twenty-Four Hours of Daytona not as an assignment, not on deadline—but simply there to experience it. Invited by my friend Mark Morgan, a fellow photographer and longtime workshop participant, we spent our time doing exactly what felt right in the moment. Sometimes that meant picking up the camera, sometimes it meant watching the race unfold, and sometimes it meant just standing there talking cars and soaking it all in. With no pressure and no expectations, the event became less about results and more about connection—to the energy of the race, to the people around us, and to the simple joy of being present. I shared more reflections from the weekend on the blog—come take a look.

Every photograph has a story, but the real magic happens in the moments in front of the lens. In my recent webinar, we journeyed through Northern Vietnam, capturing the lives of people from the bustling streets of Hanoi and Na Trang to the quiet villages tucked in the northern mountains. Along the way, the local cuisine—steaming bowls of Pho, fresh Banh Mi sandwiches, and savory seafood Bun dishes—was as much a part of the adventure as the photography, offering glimpses into daily life and culture. These experiences reminded me that travel and photography are inseparable: it’s about slowing down, connecting, and seeing the world with fresh eyes.

I’m always working to design photography workshops that feel intentional, meaningful, and truly worth the investment of time and travel. That means thinking beyond great locations and asking deeper questions about learning opportunities, logistics, and what actually makes an experience compelling enough to commit to.

Lately, I’ve been reflecting on how workshops come together—and where great ideas meet real-world decisions. It’s a thoughtful process, and one where your perspective matters more than you might think.

Every great photo tells a story — but it’s the experiences behind the lens that make those stories truly memorable. Each Hunt’s Photo Adventure, independent photography workshop, and my own personal workshops is a chance to slow down, connect, and see the world through a fresh perspective.

Some participants came for the vibrant streets of New Orleans — the music, color, and character of the French Quarter. Others were drawn to the quiet reflections and raw beauty of the Louisiana bayou. The magic happens when you bring both together.

Some participants came for the vibrant streets of New Orleans — the music, color, and character of the French Quarter. Others were drawn to the quiet reflections and raw beauty of the Louisiana bayou. The magic happens when you bring both together.

When people sign up for one of my workshops, they usually come expecting to learn from me—how to simplify their camera settings, adapt when the light changes, or capture fast-paced action like the white horses of Camargue. And yes, teaching those things is a big part of why I’m there.

When people sign up for one of my workshops, they usually come expecting to learn from me—how to simplify their camera settings, adapt when the light changes, or capture fast-paced action like the white horses of Camargue. And yes, teaching those things is a big part of why I’m there.

Travel photography is about timing, storytelling, and connection—not obsessing over camera settings.
Yet, whether it’s in the temples of Bali, the markets of the South of France, the waterfalls of Iceland, or the streets of Vietnam, I see photographers fall into the same trap: overthinking their settings and missing the moment

This Wednesday, I’m heading back to a place that left a lasting impression on me: the South of France. Last summer, before heading to Paris to cover the Olympics, I spent a week exploring Provence. I barely scratched the surface — but even that brief taste was enough to know I’d be coming back. There’s something about the golden light, the timeless villages, the relaxed rhythm of the region that stays with you. It did with me.

If you know me, you know I’m a notorious over-packer. I tend to agonize over what to bring on every trip, trying to prepare for every possible scenario — and every trip is different.

Winter photography travel brings the stress of heavy clothing: bulky layers, gloves, hats, and the gear needed to stay warm and dry. Summer, on the other hand, means managing heat, but there’s always that one day when cooler temps or unexpected rain rolls in — and you’re wishing you had packed smarter.

Have you ever dreamed about traveling to a beautiful place — camera in hand — and returning home not just with great photos, but with new skills, new friends, and a renewed sense of creative purpose? If that idea lights you up, but you’ve never been on a photography workshop before, I’d like to share a few thoughts — and some encouragement.