Ah, travel photography. The pursuit of capturing stunning sunsets, majestic landscapes, and that perfect Instagrammable moment. But let’s be honest, it’s not all glamorous locations and envy-inducing feeds. Sometimes, travel photography involves a healthy dose of self-deprecation and the occasional misplaced (or should I say, lost?) piece of equipment.

Here’s a glimpse into my personal hall of shame, a collection of the most ridiculous photography gear I’ve managed to lose while jet-setting around the globe, or even just driving across the country.

Crikey! Where’d the Dundee Go? (Far North Queensland)

Ah, the thrill of wildlife photography! The adrenaline rush of capturing a predator in its natural habitat. Well, that was the plan, at least. This time, however, my FNQ adventure turned into a classic case of digital disaster.

Imagine the scene: I’m on the edge of my seat, heart pounding, camera gripped in sweaty hands. There he is – a magnificent crocodile, and a croc handler, a true “Dundee” in the making, lumbering from the water. This is IT – the shot I’ve been waiting for! I slam my finger down on the shutter button, unleashing a burst mode frenzy worthy of a paparazzi pit. Hundreds of frames captured, perfectly documenting the croc’s every menacing move.

Except… in my excitement (and maybe a touch of heatstroke), I make a rookie mistake. Instead of waiting to turn my camera off before it finished writing to the card, to quickly change an almost dead battery. I mean I didn’t want to miss any of the action. The camera clicks ominously, the red light blinks mockingly, and my heart sinks faster than a stone in a croc-infested billabong. None of those shots saved properly!!!

Did I just dump the digital equivalent of Steve Irwin wrangling a grumpy saltie? You bet I did. Hundreds of action shots, gone. Poof. Vanished into the digital abyss. Thankfully I threw in a spare SD Card (and a fresh battery) and kept shooting, But I had already lost those first killer shots.

The Great Lens Cap Caper (Willunga Beach, South Australia)

Gorgeous beach at sunset? Check. Even a romantic stroll along the water’s edge? Check. Lens cap mysteriously MIA? Double check. Apparently, my lens cap needed a permanent beach vacation. I’m sure it’s buried in the sand there somewhere. I also lost the fallen key from my tripod there too. I hope the fallen key and ens cap will be very happy there. It is a beautiful spot.

The Disappearing Drone Debacle (Port Arthur, Tasmania)

Imagine soaring over the breathtaking coast of Tasmania, capturing the dramatic landscapes from a bird’s-eye view. Except, my drone control skills resembled that of a drunken bumblebee. I didn’t know that the cliffs were made of some mineral that interfered with Wi-Fi signals. One wrong nudge on the joystick, and poof – drone went rogue, disappearing into the vast southern ocean. It would probably still be circling somewhere over the Bass Strait if an errant buffeting breeze blew it far enough out to see to get signal back. I flew it up high and over the cliffs to bring it back in. But it was close!

Lessons Learned (Maybe)

These travel photography mishaps have certainly taught me a valuable lesson (or two). Triple-check your memory cards and don’t turn the camera off before it’s finished writing the images. Lens caps and fallen keys are not optional (and have a tendency to wander). And maybe, just maybe, leave the drone piloting to the professionals.

So, the next time you see a travel photographer looking slightly bewildered, don’t judge. They might just be reminiscing about the time their camera equipment went on an unplanned adventure of its own. Because hey, at least the travel stories are unforgettable, even if the photos aren’t.

Designer Sukhchain Singh Sohal’s legendary parties – which aim to be halfway between ‘a wedding and a club’ – are celebrated in a new photo book

A photography exhibit featuring portraits of Indigenous people will be on display outside Toronto City Hall for the next two months.

Nadya Kwandibens, who is Toronto’s photo laureate, recently had portraits from her Red Chair Sessions series installed at Nathan Phillips Square as part of both the Contact photography festival and Doors Open Toronto. 

Kwandibens is Anishinaabe (Ojibway) from Animakee Wa Zhing #37 First Nation (formerly Northwest Angle) in northwestern Ontario. 

The installation features nine 2.3-metre tall portraits photographed in and around Toronto. 

“Some of the portraits, they really do look like they’re larger than life,” she said.

Her Red Chair Sessions series featured 35 prominent Indigenous community members, including journalist and author Tanya Talaga and fashion designer Sage Paul. 

She said she felt it resonated with people.

“Red chair, to me, represents Indigenous peoples’ connection to the land, where we come from, the places and different nations that we visit,” Kwandibens said. 

“That red, that blood colour, a connection to our ancestors.”

She said she thinks of the sessions as visiting with people and getting to know them, thereby creating a safe space for her subjects to relax and be themselves.

Talaga said Kwandibens has taken one of her favourite headshots which she’ll be using on the jacket of her next book.

“She’s a master of what she does and the stories she tells with her photographs are so incredible and beautiful,” said Talaga.

“I think it’s important to have, especially, you know an Anishinaabe woman, she sees you for who you are.”

She recalled Kwandibens brought the red chair to her home in the east end in an Uber and then they carted it to the beach. 

“My daughter had to come along as well and help us carry the chair to the water,” she said. 

Having lived in the area for over 25 years, Talaga said Lake Ontario is a special place for her.  

Hidden histories theme

Doors Open is an annual event where buildings of architectural, historic, cultural, and social significance — including some that may not otherwise be open to the public — offer free access.

Jeanne Holmes, Toronto’s manager of programming for city cultural events, said this year’s Doors Open theme is Hidden Histories, which encompasses the stories that aren’t told or widely known about the city.

For example, the area that’s now Nathan Phillips Square, she said, was a neighbourhood that was a receiving point for new immigrants from the 1890s through to the 1950s. The land was then expropriated to build the new City Hall and Nathan Phillips Square. 

“So we’re doing site walks that sort of talk about the different elements of the square and give people like a little bit of insider knowledge about things that they might not necessarily know, literally are happening under their feet,” said Holmes.

Liz Zeppa, who works with Doors Open, said Kwandibens’s body of work not only aligns with the theme of Hidden Histories, but advances the discourse of reconciliation and Indigenous people as stewards of our lands.

“I’m just happy to move forward with it because it’s just such a beautiful body of work to present,” she said.

Kwandibens’s portraits will be on display at Nathan Phillips Square until June 25. They will also be highlighted during City Hall’s participation in Doors Open May 25-26.