Analogs and the Stories Behind Them

This is why we shoot on film.

We just got our first rolls of film developed and wow, what a feeling!

One shot per moment, that’s the rule. Just one chance to capture what was. And that’s exactly what makes it so special (and a little nerve wracking) to see the results.

It’s been refreshing to capture moments without getting lost chasing ´the perfect’ shot or overwhelmed by all the tools digital photography demands. That’s why we brought an analog camera on this trip.

I’m happy to share a few shots with you today. Just a handful, since most are patiently waiting for their moment to shine in a (spoiler alert) book!

So, let’s get into it!

Let’s start off with our best shot and worst story. Brace yourself.

We were in bustling, noisy Hua Hin and quickly realised it wasn’t our kind of place. So we booked the cheapest hotel room we could find (13 euros) and planned to leave the next morning.

Since I tend to get a bit paranoid when riding in hectic cities, we agreed on the following: wake up at 5:00 a.m. and get moving before rush hour hits.

But the next morning, Bernardo had other plans.

Between being tired, struggling with numb hands and not exactly being a morning person, it was a struggle. Long story short: he didn’t get up.

Meanwhile, I had everything ready: bikes packed, bottles filled, route planned.

Bernardo? Still snoozing.

So yeah… my patience ran out. That’s how I woke him. Not my most gentle moment, I’ll admit.

But he got up, and we hit the road.

I rode at a solid pace to make up for lost time, while Bernardo was still stuck in sleep mode. At a red light, I stopped and expected him to pull up next to me.

But…..no signs of Bernardo.

I waited.

And waited.

Then, finally, he appeared, saying: “I just had to take a picture.”

I should have seen that coming.

Honestly? In that moment, I couldn’t care less about that picture. But I can’t deny, this shot, of monks patiently waiting for their breakfast, turned out (annoyingly) beautiful.

So, would we take it again?

Bernardo: Yes.
Jule: No.

But that’s us too.
Not just the photos, but the frictions, the differences and the misaligned mornings.
The messy parts that make the story real.

Time for something warmer.

While riding across Khao Sok National Park, we were stopped by a family offering ice pops. The family members were busy cracking open Areca nuts and peanuts to dry in the sun. They stepped away from their work to offer us the treats. Just a small act of kindness, or so we thought.

Soon, uncles and aunts joined us, their family pig was proudly introduced and we were invited to join them for lunch. So, we sped off to the market, squeezed onto a Saleng (not to be confused with a tuk tuk), clinging to the railings as we bumped along the road. Bernardo tried to vlog the chaos, which you’ll see on the upcoming video :)

As quickly as we had left, we were back with bags full of papaya salad, sticky rice, shrimp paste, sugar mango, chili and soft noodles. A spontaneous feast, assembled by strangers who now felt a bit like family.

But the day held more than food and laughter. In the middle of it all, I learned that the father of a close friend of mine had passed away. That afternoon, I had the chance to attend his funeral online. I hesitated at first, unsure how to ask, but when I explained, the family immediately prepared a quiet corner for me, set up a fan, and offered Wi-Fi so I could join in peace and privacy.

Meanwhile, Bernardo offered to help in the kitchen, asking if he could tidy up or do the dishes, but the family gently declined. It simply wasn’t allowed. Their hospitality was clear and they insisted we rest while they took care of everything.

As he watched, unable to lend a hand, he noticed how beautifully the scene unfolded around him. Prow, one of the daughters, was doing the dishes in soft golden light, completely at ease. It was a quiet, everyday moment that perfectly captured the care and kindness of this family. Bernardo picked up the camera and took the shot. This has become the reminder of the unexpected warmth we found that day.

What started as a quick break in the shade became one of our most memorable experiences so far.

And all because we accepted those ice pops.

This is a shot of the Phraya Nakhon Cave; a hidden temple tucked away in Sam Roi Yot National Park, in Thailand.

Getting there was half the adventure: we cycled to a small village, took a boat to a remote beach, and then hiked another 20 minutes through steep terrain. After such an effort, we expected to have the cave to ourselves, but that was wishful thinking.

Dozens of others had made the trek, all hoping to capture the same shot. It took time to wiggle our way to the front, but yes, it was worth it.

Still, as we walked back out of the cave, we both felt a little empty. Or at least, not as fulfilled as we know we can feel, like after spending time with that local family, for instance.

This temple is a tourist must-see, and we get it. Hidden inside a cave, surrounded by tropical plants, with sunlight streaming in just right. It’s really beautiful.

But beyond the image, there wasn’t much to connect with. No interaction with the place itself, no locals to talk to, no deeper layer.

It’s not that we don’t appreciate the beauty, we do. But beauty alone doesn’t move us. At least, not in the way people, encounters, and shared stories do.

That’s what we’re really searching for: moments that don’t just show us a country, but let us feel it. This shot reminds us of that.

We’re happy to have this memory, of two absolute legends we met on our way to Cameron Highlands, in Malaysia.

We passed them as they walked along the roadside, heavily loaded with gear and proudly waving the Indonesian flag. They had a steady rhythm going.

At first, we just cycled right by. But we couldn’t stop wondering where on earth they were heading, especially in this brutal heat. So we turned around to ask.

Turns out, they were on a pilgrimage.
On their way to Mecca.

They proudly shared their story, along with photos from the road and a glimpse into their rising TikTok career.

Some friends followed in a support vehicle, but these two champions? They were planning to walk all 8000 kilometers.

On Crocs.

Crazy!

This shot shows the calm after the storm, but every time I see it, I’m instantly reminded of that scary night.

The day before, we tried to reach a small village at the foot of the mountains, but due to the heavy rainfall, that wasn't possible. This was the best camp spot we could find. A viewpoint high up in the mountains, overlooking a valley.

A beautiful spot, but in stormy conditions? Not so much. The lightning was fierce, and the thunder answered back with a speed that made our hearts jump.

One, two, three, four, five...
We counted the distance between us and the lightning.

We tried to recall the rule, how do you measure the distance again?
No signal, of course. But we barely made it to three... and that felt frighteningly close.

“Shouldn’t we cycle down? Just to be safe?” we asked each other that question about a dozen times.

The place was surrounded by trees taller than us, so that gave us some comfort. And we were lying on air mattresses, those must insulate, right? (turns out, that was total nonsense). We weren’t sure about any of it, really. We were just trying to reassure ourselves.

But luckily, the seconds between flash and rumble began to stretch.
The lightning backed off and seemed to wish us a quiet goodnight.

I’m grateful for the memory, but even more relieved it remained just that: a memory.

And well, that’s it for now.

These shots don’t just show where we’ve been, they remind us how it felt. And hopefully, a little of that feeling reaches you too :)

Thank you for being part of it!

Jule Noah