The Oysterbox Hotel down in Umhlanga is not the kind of place that you would expect an Icelandic boy to be marrying his Greek princess, but these two brought the rock star swagger on a whole new level to their photography. Stefan had torn his achilles tendon and was being wheeled around in a wheelchair, he’d also just had a throat op and was still sounding a little Billy Holiday’ish. I would have been filled with painkillers, whiskey and ennui, not necessarily in that order. Not these two, sometimes the adrenaline and endorphins of being in love and being bound together for eternity kick in and … well, rock start swagger, killer bee photographs and serious weather. My best part of the evening was the Icelandic four liner poem, no translation necessary.

Its been a long three weeks. We got a nice mention on the My Eco Wedding in Africa blog. We also won a Profoto award in the Fine Art category (its a long story) and the pics will be featured in a photography book.
Don’t you hate it when magazines contact you and want to interview you, but only if you take out a full page ad?
If you’re looking to tempt, cajole, thank or bribe me – I’m currently very fond of this.

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On my way back from a very crazy cool wedding in New Zealand – Frodo must have frozen his ass off out here. Give me a day or two to recover from jet lag and I’ll start replying to the emails.

or Karen and Duncan (+70 friends) take over a small town.

This weekend is kind of hazy for me, and not just because it was almost three weeks ago, so please excuse the fragmented post.

I remember it was a long weekend and we were going to stay over for two nights. So we’d left early on the Saturday, on the highway headed east, dodging people who had gotten their licenses in Narnia, and those that were in a hurry to get to their holiday destination or meet their maker (they didn’t seem able to make up their minds). Trying to squeeze past aficionados of deep fried fat and all things greasy on our way to the next cup of caffeine at various petrol stations. Showing teeth while double-o super sexy made its very slow way up the hills.

Finally at Kaapsche Hoop, Karen hops into super sexy and shows us to our accommodation. We pass a small bar with a bright sign on the outside. She says, “That’s Salvadore’s everyone was there last night”, her tone seems to suggest that they may not have put it back together yet.

Our accommodation, Long Creek Lodge, rocks. Its clean, has beautifulI views, and it even has monogramed lamp shades – not my initials, but cool nonetheless.

I remember the wedding day being a riot of color, sound, glitter, lots and lots of confetti, mist, disco balls, magic, strange people in elvis outfits, mist, a man dressed as a reindeer, Dr Quinn medicine woman, jaeger bombs, men in kilts, and lots and lots of mist. I remember eating roast chicken off a Springbok Hit Parade (vol 4 I think?) record, and not recognizing a single name on the record label. There were also some dreadlocked horses and really huge pancakes filled with milk tart for breakfast. It was chaos, the good kind, the kind that you talk about for years, the kind that the locals talk about for years.

We snuck out early on the Monday, being very mindful of the fact that most people had still been awake a couple of hours earlier, and that hangovers were probably just starting to kick in, there was mist everywhere, the streets were strewn with confetti, I suspect that we will still be finding confetti in various parts of our camera bags for years to come.

We kind of think of Dunc and Punk as friends, so it seems a bit odd saying that they were cool to hang out with and we had an incredible time, and that we will be talking about this one for a while. Start a party indeed.

ok, so you want to see some pics, yeah?

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I’m finally back from Zanzibar, which was beautiful and exotic and all the things you expect from a tropical island on the edge of Africa. Give me a couple of hours to unpack my bags, answer the 212 emails in my mailbox, and get the beach sand out of my camera bag and I’ll tell you all about Cindi and Paul’s wedding on Kwale Island. Until then, I did manage to do some work on the flight back. No, my fear of flying hasn’t gone away and yes I still fly tranquilized, but for some reason the tranquilizers weren’t working on the way back, so I edited photos.

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