A Journey Told in Silver Tones
The Philippines is a place of countless stories, where beauty is woven into the landscape and the rhythm of life moves at its own pace. That was the impression I carried with me before I ever set foot there. I had no grand expectations. The trip was booked on a whim, born from a quiet desire for stillness and simplicity.
I longed for a return to the fundamentals. A life where the sun dictated time and the sound of the ocean offered comfort. Where intermittent internet made space for presence. I wasn’t looking for anything in particular. All I knew was that I needed to bring my Hasselblad XPan and a few rolls of film.
When travelling to a country known for lush landscapes, turquoise waters, and postcard beaches, black and white film may seem like an odd choice. But that’s exactly why I chose it. Sometimes I try to look past the obvious. Shooting in black and white allows me to concentrate on light, form, and texture.
The panoramic format of the XPan draws me in. Each frame feels like a cinematic still. When pared back to black and white, the image becomes timeless. The few I captured on this trip, these Hasselblad black and white panoramas, are just that.
Shot on Ilford HP5 plus on the Hasselblad XPan
The Art of Traveling with the analogue film camera the Hasselblad XPan
Travelling with an analogue camera like the XPan is never effortless, especially when heading into remote areas. Don’t expect to stumble across essentials in small village shops. Film, batteries, or accessories may be impossible to find outside the cities. Traveling remote requires certain prep especially when traveling away from bigger cities.
Additionally, the camera is quite simple looking and not that big, therefor you often easily get away with carrying it around on the streets. The brand might attract eyes, if they are familiar with it.
What I love most is how the XPan encourages mindfulness. With a limited number of exposures and no instant feedback, I’m pushed to slow down. Each frame becomes a decision. I see more clearly because I must see with intention. With digital, I tend to shoot without pause or reflection. With film, I release that need to review, to control. I either captured something meaningful or I didn’t and either is okay.
When I ask to photograph someone, they often want to see the result. I explain that it’s not possible with this camera, and from there begins a joyful exchange. Explaining travel photography in black and white wide format to a stranger who speaks little English often becomes one of the best moments of the day.
Shot on Ilford HP5 plus on the Hasselblad XPan
The Kids on the Inflated Tire: Floating Joy
I was on the island of Coron, riding a scooter along backroads. I wanted to get off the beaten path, to find places where life remained simple and close to the land. I search for perspective on these trips — glimpses of a life far removed from mine.
I followed a sandy path, unsure where it would lead, only that I was headed toward something unfamiliar. After a 2 hour drive across this sandy road, I came across a parking lot that felt out of place, but lively. Local vendors were selling food, but no tourist in sight. I pulled in and the sky opened up, I quickly made my way over to a tree with some locals to hide from the heavy rain.
After a brief downpour and random small talk with the locals, I walked further down to the beach. Families were picnicking along the shore. I swam briefly and then sat quietly, just observing. That was when I noticed two children approaching the water, dragging an inflated tire.
The kids played in the water with the tire for a while, until they realised they might be able to get up on top of the tire if they collaborated well. I quickly took out my camera, and walked towards the water, I knew there would be a moment where it would just look great together. A playful, spontaneous and timeless feel. Kids being kids, improvising with whatever they can find to play.
With my 45mm lens attached, I framed the scene to include the sweeping background. The focal length was just wide enough to place the children in their environment without overwhelming the moment. I waited for balance, then pressed the shutter. The moment was vividly captured in my memory and hopefully on my film.
As always with film, there was no way to be certain it had worked. I carried the memory with me, unsure whether the photograph would do the moment justice. Days later, the memory had already begun to fade. Perhaps I had romanticised it. Even with a great memory, I was hoping for a great shot and luckily, after developing the film, it did the memory justice.
Shot on Ilford HP5 plus on the Hasselblad XPan
The Kids in the River: Stillness and Flow
The second image that stays with me was taken later that same day. Although I spent more than two weeks travelling through the Philippines, this one day gave me two images that now feel essential.
After the beach I continued driving down the backroad towards somethingAbout three quarters along the path — though I didn’t yet know it would be my final destination — I passed a cluster of simple homes. I heard children laughing, but saw nothing. I stopped the scooter, killed the engine, and listened. A splash. More laughter. I followed the sound.
As I walk off the road I am greeted by more joyful laughter and find a small river with kids playing in buckets. It was the simplest thing. Water, a bucket and kids surrounded by greenery. I knew I had to photograph it. I positioned myself behind some greenery to capture both the children and the setting, careful to maintain the quiet tone of the scene.
The light was dim beneath the trees, softened by clouds. I waited for a moment of stillness, trusting that the children were in no hurry. In many Filipino communities, rivers serve as more than boundaries. They are places for bathing, washing, and play. These children were simply living.
In colour, the image would have been dominated by green. Bright foliage can easily overpower skin tones. But in black and white, the textures emerged. The skin tones created a natural contrast with the water and vegetation, highlighting form and presence. For panoramic film photography in the Philippines, this image felt essential. Black and white gave the moment its dignity.
Shot on Ilford HP5 plus on the Hasselblad XPan
Final Reflections: What Black and White Taught Me on This Trip
This trip was not meant to be a photography trip, therefore taking the deliberate choice to not push myself to go out and shoot too much. It removed the pressure to create something great. It allowed me to slow down and be intentional. Shooting black and white XPan travel photography became a form of mindfulness.
Choosing restraint isn’t limiting. In fact, it often becomes a tool for clarity. With fewer distractions, I could simply observe. In some cases that means the restraint does not allow you to take photographs. Whilst in some cases, it sparks the imagination. This is why storytelling through black and white film travel photography continues to captivate me. The limitations of film stock and format invite presence. They encourage me to see differently, to wait for meaning rather than chase it.
In hindsight, I returned home with two photographs I consider timeless. They will hang on my walls for years to come. They represent what I was seeking. Distance from the noise, and a return to something essential.
Shot on Ilford HP5 plus on the Hasselblad XPan
