Sometimes I think given half the chance I would simply hang out in the fresh markets of South East Asia and let my photography focus on the details. You may recall that I touched on this topic before when I visited Cambodia last year in the post Finding Beauty in Detail. Alas, magazine editors seem less enthusiastic about an old rice sack covered in fish heads than they should be. But what the hell.

This handful of images is from my recent visit to Myanmar. Wandering around the street markets in Yangon is like walking into a painting, a canvas brushed with colours from Gauguin’s palette and more than a touch of Dali’s surrealism.

Speaking of Cambodia, following the succes of ‘Enchanting Cambodia’ it seems like a second book on the country is in the pipeline. This time, with a more comphrensive text and more photos so I expect to be spending a considerable amount of time there this year.

Inle Lake has long been on the itinerary of adventurous travellers and those who quite rightly ignored the calls to stay away from Myanmar. Now of course, with a thaw in international relations, it is one of the country’s top 5 destinations and has quickly seen an increase in visitor numbers. As with all tourism this is of course good and bad but I’m not going to touch on those issues here. This is a primarily photo-blog after all.

As numbers on the lake increase, it’s a must for photographers to rise early – but then when hasn’t that been the key to better photography. As the British landscape photographer David Noton says, ‘the great thing about photography is that it forces you to be in the best place at the best time of day.’ On Inle Lake this is the crack of dawn when locals head to the market which moves from village to village on a 5 day cycle. Fortunately most tour groups prefer a leisurely breakfast and don’t get out and about until the best light has faded, leaving the markets free of the hoards during the early hours. It’s just me, the market traders…and other photographers ignoring my smile and morning greetings. But you know how most of them are…I must have interupted their Myanmar moment.

Inle Lake is ringed by mountains inhabited by several different hill tribe groups who come down to the markets to buy and sell. With their chequered headscarves, the beautiful Pa O girls are easy to identify and add flashes of colour to an already vibrant market scene.

It’s a curious thing but Westerners and others living in a media-merchandised world, who by their very nature are vocal about the rights of the individual and self-expression, are intrigued by the group identity and strong sense of community of hill tribes. Spend any time around ethnic minorities and it’s easy to feel that in our self-obsessed lives we have lost a great deal.

The markets are actually quite difficult to shoot as they a extremely busy and with a lot of contrast with people sitting half in shade and half in full sunlight. Nevertheless, there are opportunities for some good portraits. I’m already looking forward to a return visit.

The website has been dormant for far too long. Current projects are taking up most of my time, leaving little to spare on these pages. Enlivened by the discovery of Marston’s Pedigree in a Bangkok supermarket, I feel inspired to enjoy a glass of the amber nectar while posting a few shots taken in southern Laos.

During a recent motorcycle trip in the south, I spent a few days in Pakse. Vietnam lies just a few hours east of the bustling town, a fact that is immediately evident if you take a walk around the huge morning market.

A fabulous discovery on the way out of town was the Vietnamese pig market on the banks of the Mekong. Chatting to the delightful traders while they enjoyed their morning bowl of pho noodle soup, prodded, poked, and bartered for pigs was hugely entertaining – for all but the pigs.

The sellers gather in the early hours and it’s all done and dusted by midday. Deals settled, the pigs are dropped into rice sacks, loaded into motorcycle sidecars, and onto trucks. It’s coming across unexpected events like the pig market that make traveling in Laos such a pleasure. It’s as mad as a bag of snakes – or a sidecar full of pigs – with never a dull moment.

This Vietnamese girl in the main market was selling lizards to grill and serve with a mango salad. I wonder if that would go ok with a pint of Pedigree?

Whenever I am travelling in Laos, or any country in Asia for that matter, my morning ritual is a leisurely stroll around a fresh market chatting to the ladies selling produce, grazing on a couple of local snacks, and taking pictures.

Up north, markets are particularly colourful due to the presence of many different ethnic groups such as the Tai Dam lady above.

Sellers have a particular way of arranging their produce in small sized heaps or freshly cooked food in portion sized  bowls, ready to tip into a bag when you make a purchase.

 The ladies  take great care with their beautiful displays, bunching salad vegetables together and threading them on strips of bamboo, and arranging small river fish nicely. It’s a visual feast.

Next on my morning itinerary is a warming bowl of fur, a hearty noodle soup and the staple dish of Laos. Most markets have an area with several fur stalls, each beautifully laid out with baskets of fresh herbs and condiments to enliven your soup. The stock is cooked on a charcoal brazier and ladled over a handful of noodles and your choice of meat. 

The most common in Laos in beef or buffalo but pork and chicken are also available. Tear in a handful of mint, basil, pea shoots, a squeeze of lime and a dollop of roasted chilli paste and there’s no better start to the day. Add a Lao coffee with sweet condensed milk and kanom jap gluay, a Chinese style doughnut to dip in it and you have the breakfast of champions.

More pictures can be seen in the Laos gallery.

City, town, or village, one of the first things I do when I arrive is find out the location of the fresh markets. Most places will have one in the morning and evening. These can be held at the same site or different parts of the town. Typically, morning markets open at before daybreak and fizzle out about 10 a.m. Evening markets kick off about 4 p.m. and often trade until late at night but in smaller towns and villages they wind down after dark.

Wholesale markets such as Talad Pak Klong in Bangkok are open 24 hours a day. Some, like a small Laotian market in a rural village have little to offer but are still fertile ground for the photographer.

In Phnom Penh there are many sprawling markets to explore. Colourful, chaotic and not for the squeamish, they are the heart of the city. In Khmer, the word for market is phsar.

If you are in Phnom Penh check out the old market, Phsar Chas, which is open throughout the day and in the evening, and Phsar Kandal which is great in the morning. Head over Monivong Bridge and you’ll discover the wonderful Phsar Chhbar Ampoeu.

I’ve been based in Thailand for the past 13 years and have travelled extensively in the neighbouring countries of Cambodia, Laos, Myanmar, and Malaysia. There are many similarities in culture, cuisine and lifestyle. And, of course, to someone has lived in and explored the region for so long, it has all become extremely commonplace. Don’t get me wrong, the colour and chaos still excites and inspires, and is fertile ground for a photographer but it seldom surprises any more. 

As a writer and a visual artist, I often find myself focusing on detail – picking up on small differences in what is a strikingly familiar environment.  On the surface, a walk through a market in Cambodia has much in common with a market in Laos.

Look closer, however, and the details surface; the way in which Khmer women selling startling red chillies bind them together in small bunches, how they tend to carry a wad of cash in their hand rather than in a purse, or place an offering of a lotus flower and a crisp bill in the hands of a Buddha image at the temple.

The technique for counting money can also vary from country to country. It’s the idiosyncrasies – the subtle cultural accent – that enliven my day as I amble through a market or explore a temple.

 You can find a few more images in the Cambodia Gallery.

Here’re a few shots taken in the markets showing women and children with the distinctive tanaka face powder.

Burmese people are some of the most welcoming and friendly you could ever hope to meet. Wander around the vibrant markets and every glance or tentative inquiry is greeted with a capacious smile and a handful of playful words shared with neighbours.

In the early morning and late afternoon, side streets are transformed into a canvas brushed with strokes of violent colour reminiscent of Gauguin’s palette. Squatting among nests of verdant green produce traders draw customers as eager for gossip as they are for fresh produce and a good deal. The atmosphere of markets in Myanmar is intoxicating. The lips of young girls offer thick smoky smiles whilst gently holding slender green cheroots and old ladies dispense ‘cure all’ herbal remedies. 

A raucous laugh may reveal a flash of gold proving that in Yangon it really does pay to put your money where your mouth is, or  betel stained teeth from years of habitual chewing.

Each woman’s face, cheeks washed with pale yellow powder extracted from the bark of the tanaka tree, exerts a mesmerising glow – smears of light illuminating sun-blessed skin. The markets of Myanmar are a sight for sore eyes; crowded and chaotic but never claustrophobic.

Tanaka wood is sold in the markets. It is rubbed on a grinding stone with a little water to extract it and then brushed on the cheeks, neck and arms.

Tanaka is used a beauty product but also as a sunscreen and skin softener. These days blocks of pre-ground powder and soaps are also available.

I’ll post some shots of markets at a later date.