On first impression it’s enough to put a nesting Robin off its stride for good and liable to bring other garden creepers into disrepute - but it’s just the English celebrating Spring.

The caption to Toby Melville’s picture informs us, “A costumed festival participant marches in the Jack In The Green procession in Hastings in southern England May 5, 2008. The traditional annual May Day festival has origins at least as far back as the 17th century, with hundreds of costume-clad dancers and musicians - many dressed in green foliage - marching through the coastal town and symbolically slaying a giant Jack at the finale.”.

Some are more ‘out’ than others.

Elsewhere other revellers cover themselves in the remains of dead animals and 

there is evidence that it is something to do with fertility;

also that the Kruegers may have English country cousins.

Having grown up in the ‘Green Belt’ around London believing that ‘rural’ meant nothing to do evenings and weekends, I had always considered myself something of a country boy; however I was completely oblivious to any of this organised ritual fertility business. Of course it may just have been that I never got invited but surely all of us look pretty much alike after a couple of coats of green paint. 

As the song has it, “it’s life Jim but not as we know it“.

I wonder if it works with Magnolia emulsion paint?

Recently I was one of a group of journalists who attended a four-day hostile environment training course in Bangkok. I was unsure just what to expect as I’d been told all sorts of tales - mostly scary - about what sort of things would happen to us.

The group numbered 14; all of us Reuters journalists, including text correspondents, video producers and photographers. There were five of us from Pictures - Seoul staffer Jo Yong-Hak, Chief Photographer Japan Mike Caronna, Amit Guptafrom Jammu in Indian-administered Kashmir, Pichi Chuang from Taipei and Victor Frailefrom Hong Kong. The level of experience in the group varied wildly, from highly experienced correspondents, producers and photographers, to neophytes like me. 

On the first day of the course, our instructors introduced themselves - they were both ex-Australian SAS personnel, with a wealth of experience of operating in dangerous places including East Timor, Iraq and Afghanistan.

One of the most valuable things I took away with me was the First aid. They promised us at the beginning that by the end we would remember every step. I’d learned first aid at school but had forgotten almost everything about it and never had reason to practice it. Before first aid instruction began, we were asked a blunt question, ”I can do something to save each of you, but what can you do to help me?”  It made me feel irresponsible forgetting how to provide help in a medical emergency. This was valuable stuff which everyone needs not just in the field but domestically with colleagues, friends and family.

Over the next few days it was information we would have to apply again and again as we tackled the many scenarios and sure enough, by the end, we were able to remember every step of the process irrespective of how complicated it had seemed on the first day. Practical training began with a demonstration on a dummy and over the next couple of days we practiced CPR techniques on each other.

There were numerous practical exercises. In one, we were herded into a hotel room, where the instructors pointed out security flaws and dangers. Some of us were selected at random and blindfolded, the rest of us watching to make sure they don’t injure themselves as they attempted to find the fire exits while not being able to see anything. It’s scary how few people “made it” - lesson learned: situational awareness, always know where you are, the surroundings and how to get out quickly if you need to.

In another, we walked around the sprawling hotel compound with GPS units, calling in our positions to two journalists regularly who plotted our positions on Google Earth. Lesson learned: communication, call out the numbers in single digits, else you might confuse the person at the other end and he or she may plot 50 instead of 15, and put you somewhere else - a serious error if your safety depends on the information getting out.

In yet another, we were exploring the grounds when we came upon a vehicle accident, injured people in the vehicle and others flung into the surrounding undergrowth.  Lesson learned: know your first aid procedures to keep people alive until help arrives - always make sure you’ve checked the area thoroughly lest you overlook someone injured in the bushes.

For our final and for me most frightening scenario, we were asked to assemble in the hotel lobby one evening. We were split into groups and we sat nervously in a lounge, waiting for a simulated phone call from an unreliable fixer who was going to take us to interview a reclusive southern Thai rebel leader. The phone call came and our group went downstairs to meet this “fixer”. We tried to follow everything we’d been told about letting people know of your movements and security precautions - but its surprising how much of that changes in the heat of the moment. Even though you know this is a simulated scenario, the adrenalin is pumping, things are moving very, very fast, and although you try to apply everything you’ve learned, some things change with the situation. The “fixer” drove us down a dark alley behind the hotel where we’re suddenly ambushed by masked people carrying what look like AK47 rifles, shouting at us and pounding the car with their rifles and fists. My heart was pounding and I began to panic. As our “fixer” disappears in the chaos and opens the doors, we’re dragged out of the vehicle, taken a few steps away and pushed to the ground - phones, gps units, wallets, passports, everything - taken off us. As we knelt in the dirt we learned that the rebel leader we were to have met had been injured in an explosion and we were expected to help - a gun-toting rebel told us, ”he die, you die.” Inside a disused building there are injured people covered in blood and moaning in pain lying on the ground,with  glass and shrapnel everywhere. Time to apply, as best you can, everything you’ve been taught. Lessons learned: Don’t ever talk back to your captors unless you want to be thwacked, follow instructions, don’t try to escape, and try not to freak out or look scared as you attempt to remember what you’re supposed to do in this situation. 

The lessons and scenarios taught us about correct bandaging techniques in case of snake bites, fractures, shrapnel and chest wounds; what to do in case of a vehicle accident - one of the most common ways in which journalists are injured. We were taught about correct procedures for travelling in a convoy, how to read and give GPS coordinates, how to select a hotel room least exposed to dangers such as explosions, flying shrapnel and stray bullets (it’s frightening to be told how far a bullet can silently travel - and how little armour will do for you), how to backtrack out of a minefield and even what you can do to ease your way if you are a journalist embedded with a military unit.

I learned about simple gadgets that can really improve security; for example, $20 door stops that emit a loud alarm if someone tries to break into you room. I learned how to put together a basic med kit; what to keep in a “go-bag” in case I need to move suddenly, and most importantly, how to assess every situation for potential safety threats, letting colleagues you trust know what you’re doing every step of the way.

Everything was backed up by long conversations with much more experienced colleagues, who shared stories from their years on the job. Amit, our photographer from Jammu, was able to tell us first hand about several life-threatening situations he had been in, and how he prepared himself for them and made sure he got out safely. Video producer Madhu Soman from Mumbai and Vietnam Bureau chief Grant McCool also brought with them a wealth of experience which they were able to share in their stories of covering conflict, bomb scares, floods and barely making it through hostile checkpoints.

From my more experienced colleagues, I learnt that situations out there in the real wild world will never be as controlled as the scenarios we were presented with in Bangkok - a really scary thought - but that what we’d been taught here would give us a reference point, something to being with and some basic steps to follow that would help us operate more safely under oppressive conditions. After our final scenario, I also hoped never to be exposed to a situation in which I’d be at the mercy of trigger-happy militants as we had been in the simulation - that it’s better to be safe and not get into something like that in the first place.

All of us learned to look for things we’d never have considered before going on the course, and while some of what was taught might have seemed common sense, the course helped place safety and security right at the front of our minds.

It brought home just how much difference preparation and training can make to anyone working in an unsafe environment. Getting the story and covering it effectively is one thing but we need to do that without jeopardising our safety or that of our colleagues, eliminate completely unnecessary risks always thinking ahead to the next step and the way out. 

Before I start please spare a thought for the thousands who died when Cyclone Nargis hit Myanmar and the thousands more affected by it, who have lost loved ones, their homes and their livelihoods.

For a news pictures editor in charge of Asia yesterday was a tough day. The death toll was rising steadily as the enormity of the tragedy slowly unfolded and we worked hard at getting pictures from staff and stringers. Handout pictures from pressure groups were scrutinized and checked for usage rights usage and potential bias. We had staff waiting at airports to speak to tourists who may have had images of the scene as the cyclone struck.

The day was a stream of planning meetings, coordination with text and TV meetings, safety meetings, negotiations with wide eyed tourists all believing they had shot a million dollar picture, editing and captioning the results, trying to find staff with the requisite experience for the conditions, stroking those who had volunteered but lacked the experience and speaking to the photographers on the ground (compared to whom my day was a walk in the park - no power, no water, no food was the least of their worries).

So what was all this stressing about? The bottom line is to tell the story, honestly, fairly and objectively so the rest of the world can see something of this disaster in one of the most closed and oppressively run countries in the world.

At the end of yesterday I went home believing that a caring world knew about what was going on.

Once at home, after explaining to my 12 year old son why so many had died in a cyclone, I browsed a few of the international news sites to see how the world was reacting to something I felt  was the most important news event of the day.

The first blog I read under a slide show of pictures on a major US news site read (I paraphrase as it has been removed now) “why should we care about this dirty little washed up country and who gives a damn anyway”

This comment on the blog chilled me, not because it was there but because it was supported by many other comments.

But I care and so do the team who will deliver today’s file and tomorrow’s. 

Am I just shouting into the wind? Should we all become wedding photographers?
 

 From Mabvuto Banda, Namitete, Malawi, May 2

 - Bernard Banda makes $5 a day carrying people on his bicycle, good money in a country
where more than half the 13 million people live below a dollar a day.
 
    “I charge MK70 (50 U.S. cents) per trip and on a good day I
make about MK700 ($5) or more,” Bernard says.

 
    Banda is not the only one cashing in on a bicycle transport
industry now booming because of the rising costs of fuel pushed
up by strong global oil prices.
 
    Along Mchinji road — the highway linking Malawi to Zambia’s
eastern province — colourfully decorated bicycles are neatly
parked, waiting to transport students to a nearby government
college, nursing staff to a hospital and visitors around the
area.
 
    The bicycles are remodelled to suit the business. A second
seat is attached to the bicycle behind the driver’s seat. The
passenger seat is finished in colourful but cheap leather,
comfortably sized to accommodate any size of passenger.
 
    Stand by the roadside for just a few minutes and you can see
how important the bicycles are to the area.
 
    Bernard is hired to transport a bag of maize. Another 
driver picks up a new passenger and cycles off.
 
    “To do this you have to be strong because sometimes we ride
uphill carrying a passenger or hired to transport a bag of
maize,” says Langiton Sitima.
 
    This form of transport is fast-becoming a common sight
across Malawi. In each province the bikers are called by
different names.

 
    “This form of transport is our future. I can no longer
afford to pay K150 ($1) a day for a one-way trip using public
transport,” says Maggie Yotamu, a student at the College of
Natural Resources which is along the route the bicycles service.
 
    In the capital Lilongwe and its surrounding districts they
call the bikers “Kabadza”, which means hard worker. In the
Northern Province they call them “Sacramento”, named after the
Brazilian buses that ply the long routes across the country.
 
    To underscore the importance of the bicycle, police have
been organising identity cards for these bikers.
 
    “In most cases police have moved in because we recognise
that they are giving a very important service to the public and
therefore we give them identity cards for security purposes,”
police spokesperson Willie Mwaluka told Reuters.

Pictures by Siphiwe Sibeko

Yesterday May 1 saw voters in England and Wales go to the polls to elect their local authority representatives. Londoners will have to wait until this evening to know who will be their new mayor but it is hard to imagine that it won’t be either the incumbent Labour Party candidate Ken Livingstone or the Conservative challenger Boris Johnson. Whatever the merits or otherwise of the other contenders, this has pretty much been a two horse race almost from the start. 

Some reports have said that Mayor Ken Livingstone has looked rather weary and Stephen Hird’s picture (which appears on the front of  yesterday’s FT), shows him taking a break from the last day of campaigning, at what is colloquially know in this country as a ‘greasy spoon’ cafe. Intended, I suspect, to demonstrate his ‘just-like-us-ness’. It may in fact have succeeded rather too well because he does look just like any other tired old bloke.   

Traditional symbols have been mercilessly exploited. Boris, an old Etonian had as his campaign bus one of the famous old red Routemaster London buses that Ken, as mayor, banished from service (Toby Melville).

On Polling Day Ken donned the traditional Labour politican’s garb of raincoat and Red Rosette (Toby Melville) and Boris seemed to complete the transformation into Winston Churchill that he had shown signs of earlier in the campaign (Darren Staples and Alessia Pierdomenico).

Plus ca change, plus c’est la meme chose.

Day 8 - After travelling 4 days from Lhasa Airport, and spending 4 days at 5200 metres, we are all feeling the effects of altitude but mostly suffering from frustration at the lack of information about the Olympic torch. Mark Chisolm, Reuters Cameraman and Producer, Nick Mulvenney, Reuters Correspondent and myself travelled from Beijing on April 25 to Tibet to cover the Olympic torch’s ascent of Mount Everest.       We are currently at a make-shift press centre located near Everest Base Camp. Facilities consist of an extremely good media centre, with amazingly fast internet, a press conference room, that doesn’t provide the media with any information (but I will get onto that later), small basic cabins that offer fairly comfortable beds but are just plain freezing, a dining room with excellent food, and last but certainly not least, the toilet block. Oh wow!! I cannot even begin the try and find the words… so I will leave it at that.

Mountainmen Chisholm, Gray and Mulvenney.

The altitude is a major factor in everything we do. It affects each person differently. Some have a very low percentage of oxygen in their bloodstream, some have a very high heart-rate, some get high blood pressure, many get severe headaches, others stomach problems. But all get breathless after walking just 20 metres and all are very tired. But the effects of altitude are not consistent, and even somebody who has travelled frequently to and from high altitude react differently each time. So the fact that the three of us have managed to feel ok after our schedule of travelling from Beijing, situated at a height of just 50 metres above sea level, to Everest Base Camp at a height of 5200 metres in just 4 days, does make us feel like we have achieved something, even before we have produced any stories. But this is not to say we are in the clear. Acute altitude sickness can hit anytime, even once you are back at normal levels, so we are extremely wary of this achievement.

The days consist of walking around the 500 metre cordon we seem to have been restricted to. Chinese Border Police keep a watch on our moves from several vantage points along the road and surrounding hills. I like to watch the changing weather patterns on the peak of Everest, but you cannot keep photographing it every hour - the weather might change but its shape doesn’t.

The nights are the toughest. The three of us share a small hut made of what looks like recycled paper shavings. Temperatures drop to around minus five degrees, down to maybe minus 15 with the wind factor, and the paper walls are just not thick enough to keep this cold out. But while I am freezing in my bed, all I can think about is how the teams on Everest must be feeling, camped on what some have called a ‘death zone’.

But the biggest frustration is the lack of information regarding the Olympic torch’s whereabouts. The most basic questions like ‘where is it now’ and even ‘how many people are in the team taking it to the top’ are simply not being answered. The real shame is that all the good work that has been done regarding media facilities, especially the mobile phone coverage and internet, is being undermined by the lack of information.

The lack of information combined with the rigours of the altitude, freezing temperatures, absence of washing facilities and the lack of a confirmed depature date means that frustrations are high.. almost as high as the summit of Everest itself.
     
     

Spring in London has finally sprung. The lid of concrete grey cloud has occasional cracks in it allowing the sun to shine through which completely transforms the appearance of the place.  

The seasonal ’showers’ this year have had a monsoon-like intensity but having suffered the discomfort of long days of rain, Londoners have been rewarded by some wonderfully dramatic sunsets as Toby Melville demonstrates

The rain has transformed London’s parks into an explosion of lush new foliage and sprawling suburbs are transformed by cherry blossom. 

However as Alessia Pierdomenico shows, for those without access to parks and gardens all is not lost, because when the sun sets the Guerilla Gardeners emerge. Working under cover of darkness, armed with seed bombs, chemical weapons and pitchforks they transform urban wasteland. “Their tactics are anarchistic, their attitude revolutionary. Their aim: to beautify.”

And London can be a very beautiful city indeed.

I live close to Richmond Park in South West London, where at dusk a few days ago the sun setting beyond the vast expanse of Heathrow Airport, shone diffused through a rain shower, turning new leaves transluscent and with the herd of deer grazing in the foreground looked just like a scene from Ridley Scott’s Legend.

Unfortunately it was one of those ‘better remembered than photographed’ moments.

For sub-editors on Reuters Singapore Picture Desk, one of this year’s performance targets is a “shooting assignment”. They have to select and plan a valid photographic assignment and then shoot pictures for the wire. The exercise is intended to give them practical insight into the working lives of busy photographers in the field and the decisions and operational challenges they face on a daily basis. 

Shahida Patail is one such sub-editor.

Up until now my picture taking had been limited to holiday snaps and friends’ weddings but the thought of shooting a picture for the Reuters wire was certainly appealing.

In my eagerness I decided to go to Arab Street and on a working day to boot. There was no concrete idea in my head, but I kept thinking of the colourful shop houses and the much-photographed Sultan Mosque and felt confident that I’d be able to find a subject. Luckily, before leaving the office, my boss Pedja Kujundzic suggested a possible angle - old buildings contrasted with new buildings.

Off I went only to find all my enthusiasm melted in the searing heat as I realized I had no idea what to shoot. I ended up taking random images. I couldn’t seem to find the right angle to deliver the shots I had in mind. The shop houses suddenly seemed more dirty than colourful, and every building seemed to be blocked by those blasted trees and lampposts.

And every time I tried to take a photo with people in it, they would quickly turn or walk away. My hopes were raised when I saw one foreign worker sitting in a corner of an old shop house, tiffin carrier in hand as he prepared to eat his lunch. I was already fantasizing  about the wonderful portrait picture it would make, when he saw me and got up rather menacingly. Panicked, I abruptly turned my camera away and pretended to be shooting an adjacent building. When I felt brave enough to look back in his direction again, he was gone.

Memo to self:  

-Plan the assignment properly. Have some idea of what you are looking for - unless you wanna walk around for hours in the heat uselessly lugging heavy equipment!

-Bring a trolley back or backpack - the weight of the equipment is an issue particularly if you are not used to it. 

-Go do the assignment on an off day, not a working day. You need plenty of time and patience to wait for that picture to come, and it’s best to do it while the mind is still fresh.

After my rather unproductive maiden shoot, I was ready for another go. This time, I was better prepared. I picked a day that I wasn’t working, I dressed comfortably, I brought along a lightweight backpack.

Earlier, I had discussed possible ideas with Editor in Charge David Loh, who brought to my attention the railway track running through the Portsdown area. He told me of families living in the nearby HDB estate who had made the area near the track their private little “gardens”, growing food and plants. So my theme for the day would be the railway and its little communities.

My first stop was the railway station in Tanjong Pagar. This is the starting point for trains leaving Singapore. I arrived before 8am, and started taking shots of passengers buying tickets and waiting for the train. When the first train finally pulled into the station at about 8.30am, I followed the hordes of people onto the platform - five minutes later I had been unceremoniously ushered back into the waiting hall by a fierce-looking train conductor. “No photography on the platform,” he said in a booming voice that made nearby heads turn in my direction. At that moment I wished that the 20D (plus grip) was a lot less conspicuous.

So I turned my attention to the station building. It’s a nice building, built in 1932 in a distinctly European style. After taking a few shots there, I took a taxi to Portsdown.

Armed with a street directory, I thought I could easily find the track that runs through the area. I was wrong. The taxi made a few wrong turns, and finally I decided to explore on foot. Kind Mr Taxi Driver agreed to wait for me as I trekked across a field towards the railway track partially hidden by long grass. Yes, there were old HDB buildings across the track, but there was no one and certainly no “gardens”. The whole area was quite desolate. Plus all sorts of insects were having a go at me, so I ran back to the taxi. Luckily, Mr Taxi Driver told me the track ran through the nearby Jalan Hang Jebat, so we went there. This time, access to the track wasn’t hampered by overgrown vegetation or bloodthirsty insects, but there was no sight of the train. After taking a few shots, I slowly walked back to the waiting taxi. I was about 50 metres away from the track when I heard the chugging of the train. I turned and ran back - too late. The train was too fast for me, and by the time I raised my camera the train was gone. Determined to catch the train, I went to Bukit Timah, where there was a small station. I waited for a long time for the train to appear, and finally gave up.

So my rail theme wasn’t working out. I then remembered David mentioning that the high-rise buildings in Telok Blangah offered spectacular views of the port. I tried my luck, but the tiny corridors gave a very restricted view.

Desperate now, I thought hard and decided that Mount Faber would have good views of the port. So I headed there, and realised the hill had decent views of the city and residential skyline. I took some shots, and on my way back took some photos of the cable cars travelling to and from the hill.

It was evening when I got back to our office at Science Park Drive, but the day had been fruitful - 2 pictures were moved to the wire, and 5 others to the RPA archive.

 Memo to self - 2:

- When faced with challenges, improvise! I should have bought a train ticket and hopped onto the train; it would have offered plenty of shots and the conductor would have no reason to chase me away. And I should have knocked on doors at that Telok Blangah flat…

- If there’s time, recce the place you’re intending to shoot. Things change and people move, so a little bit of research beforehand doesn’t hurt.

- Enough trains!

It was third time lucky and thing really started to come together at the day-care centre for elderly folks. It was cramped and messy, and it was a challenge for me to find a suitable place to position myself and take decent shots. But the patients at the centre were all lovely and smiley and really made my shoot worthwhile.

This is my favourite shot - a therapist massaging a patient. When I saw the clean background behind the therapist, I knew immediately I could compose something worthwhile here. What was a bonus for me was that the patient’s face was quite expressive, but I did not notice this when I first took the shot ‘cos it was dark. And of course the camera LCD screen is small. When I opened the picture in Photoshop back in the office, I was pleased with the result. 

I was extremely nervous when taking these shots of the patients undergoing pet therapy. The dogs that were brought in were MASSIVE, and they were barking a lot. Of course they’re harmless but I’ve never been surrounded by so many big dogs in my life. Every time I crouched down to take a picture, I was afraid of accidentally stepping on a dog’s tail, because the space was so tight.

I was assigned at the last minute to go down to the North Korean embassy to doorstop the North Korean envoy once his talks with Christopher Hill ended - an assignment that due to language difficulties turned out to be problematic for text, but provided an out-of-the-blue scoop for pix.

The North Korean embassy was about 10 mins from my home and it was raining dogs and cats, so I thought it would be a better idea to borrow my dad’s car and drive over to stake out the embassy rather than take a cab. When I got home, I decided to bring my Canon S5 along, just in case I got a chance to use it. When I got there, there were no other media there because of the rain, so I just parked by the side of the embassy and waited.

About an hour later, when the rain eased, the Japanese/Korean media started coming back. I got out of the car to join the crowd around the embassy house entrance, armed with my camera and tape recorder. After 30 or 40 minutes a black Mercedes finally appeared and moved towards the entrance of the ambassador’s home, and I got my camera ready. Trying to shoot the envoy thru the windows of the car was really difficult because of the reflection from the windows and the rest of the media jostling with each other to get a clear view.

Most of the other media and cameramen by then were leaning on the sides of the car calling out to the envoy (in Korean) and snapping/filming him inside. After the Mercedes pulled into the compound of the house and drove through the driveway, the media fell back and hung around the gates, still calling out to the envoy. Finally, an aide came out, saying in Korean (which I was told later) that the envoy would come out to make a few comments. One of the Korean reporters collected all our tape recorders, while I squeezed myself between some cameramen and squatted down in front of the gates to await the envoy’s approach.

When he started walking out together with his aide carrying an umbrella (by then it had started to drizzle again), I began clicking away. In hindsight, I should have paused to let the autofocus kick in before pressing the shutter, but I was in a state of panic, trying to get in some good shots as he walked towards us, and I was not thinking very clearly. One amusing element for the picture was the presence of a ginger tabby cat walking out along the driveway of the house in the same direction as the envoy, towards the media melee. I thought it would really be a nice, funny touch to get the cat into the picture, and was able to frame the tabby in a couple of shots with the envoy, but most of them ended up blurred.

When the envoy reached us, he started speaking in Korean, and I continued to snap away, squeezed between the cameramen, hoping that the reporter holding all our taping devices would be able to do a good job. the recording was crucial, since I couldn’t understand a word he said.

Finally, he completed his remarks, and began walking back towards the house. I continued to take shots of his back as he walked away. After retrieving the recorder, I called the buro and told them I needed an interpreter as all his remarks had been in Korean. I was told to try calling a Korean colleague but she was busy at the Christopher Hill briefing. My supervisor suggested to bring the recording down to the hotel where the briefing was taking place in hopes of finding someone who could interpret the contents of the recording - but by the time I arrived at the hotel, Yonhap agency had already sent out their snaps and the desk had picked up their story.

Later, when I got a chance, I downloaded the pix from my camera into my laptop to see how they turned out - some of them were really grainy, and that was when I realised that I had set the ISO speed too high - 1600 rather than 400 or 800. The light was fading and I was afraid that the low lighting conditions would make the pix very blur, so I set a higher ISO as a precaution.

I didn’t realise we had an exclusive until later when we found out that no other international wire had been there to take pix. It was really enjoyable to reverse roles for one evening - to chase after a picture, rather than a quote; to wield a camera, rather than a tape recorder, and thinking in terms of the technical aspects, such as lighting, framing, being able to capture a good shot at a split second’s notice. carrying my camera along on a whim paid off after all, but I still have much to learn about taking decent pix, especially when the action starts. definitely an area to work on in future.

Distance is a bit of an issue in Australia and every year we shoot a number of drought-related features that require us to drive 8, 10 or even 12 hours inland. Out there is where it’s really dry, where some farms haven’t seen rain for five years.
 
Climate change is a big issue in our patch of the planet, which covers Australia, the world’s driest inhabited continent, and some South Pacific nations that are at risk of vanishing because of rising sea levels. Droughts are getting longer and the cyclones that form in the Indian and Pacific Oceans each year keep getting bigger. Reporting on these subjects makes us ever more aware of the damaging effects humans can have on the environment.

 
So we got to thinking: Wouldn’t it be nice to convert our workplace to a warm, fuzzy, green operation and help save the globe? If only we had the money for that…
 
Well, it’s 2008 and things have changed. Reuters Pictures Down Under has charged head first into the Green Era, working hard to save the planet and harder to save money!
 
Of course, we did all the usual things like using less paper, not printing emails unless absolutely necessary and increasing our reliance on digital communication because it means less paper, less ink and less time. The office has also removed nearly all rubbish bins, replacing them with a range of recycling boxes for paper, plastic and so on. Reuters also removed the need for bottled water (which accounts for thousands of tons of plastic and greenhouse gases from transportation, production, etc) by installing chilled water filter outlets in the kitchen.

 
However, our biggest change so far has been road transport. In November one of our car leases came due. We dumped our 6 cylinder gas guzzler for a neat hybrid, which by the way has more cargo space than the previous road warrior. It’s pretty zippy, feels like driving a spaceship and since we took delivery in mid November have used a little over 6 tanks of fuel…
 
It’s warm, it’s fuzzy, but it also makes economic sense. Our annual lease is A$1,000/year less than the larger car and our fuel saving is expected to be around A$1,600/year. Oh, and as a sweetener, pretty much the whole of the first year’s fuel is covered by the manufacturer’s gift of $1000 of worth of free petrol. We have two pix cars in Sydney so as the price of fuel keeps heading up we expect to be saving about A$5,500 a year on cars alone. Think of the extra feature jobs you can do with a saving like that!
 
Get out there. Go Green. Save dough and save the planet!