L&B Journals

Over the winter of 22/23 we continued on from our original Transient self-documentary project, following our journey from the UK to the Caucasus mountains.

With Transient II we wanted to capture all elements of the journey, from preparation to departure, documenting the challenges of travelling in a 20 year old van and the hardships presented to us by the harsh winter elements. We also set out to capture the dull moments, the everyday duties we must perform with a lack of mod cons available to us, the scenes that have become so natural to us we seldom think to pick up a camera.

While we find our simple way of life unremarkable, growing accustomed to the idiosyncrasies of van living, we are reminded time and again that our lifestyle is in itself iconoclastic, a statement whether intentional or not against the conveyer belt of institution. It is a rejection of the societal principles that value careers and mortgages over happiness and experiences, much like generations of disillusioned travellers before us, such as the hippies and the New Age movement.

Transient is also a deliberate defiance of the age of social media, a time of rapidly accelerated micro-cultures and scroll addiction, wherein the value of an image is decided by the viewer in just 0.25 seconds. ‘Content’ has replaced photography, and The Algorithm, a vacuous coal fire, demands a never-ending amount of it to keep its fire burning. 

Our photographic work is slow and intentional, as is our lifestyle, embracing the slow photography movement in an effort to quell the digital tsunami and produce thoughtful and thought-provoking imagery. These images are untypical of what you might see under hashtags online, but they offer a raw and unflinching look at our lives on the road, stripped back of any romanticism and charade.

Sept. 22

September rolled around full of trepidation; a long journey lay ahead, and there were many preparations to be made. Leaving our families behind and crossing the tunnel is an emotional and tiring experience, as are the late nights and early mornings of filming a documentary television series that leaves little spare time for lavations.

Oct. 22

The fickle October sunshine was warm enough for us to continue living outdoors once we reached Southern Türkiye, passing Hungary, Romania, Serbia and Bulgaria on our route. The threat of breakdowns loomed constantly until we reached our end destination; a total of five set us back by several days, but an impromptu starter motor change in a dusty car park at midnight was a highlight.

Nov. 22

November took with it the last of the sunshine we’d see until spring, and in return deluged us with relentless rain; as is usually the case, we were no drier inside the van than out. Finding shelter was our only respite from the encroaching winter.

Dec. 22

December was a bitter foe, dry and bitingly cold, spent travelling the arid Eastern provinces of Türkiye. As the inside was no warmer than the out, we spent much of our time living outdoors; the frostbite felt all the same. The dangerous icy roads left us tired and worn.

Jan. 23

January was a slow month in a new country, a time for gathering wood, making repairs and making the necessary preparations for the mountains that lay on our journey ahead. Water was scarce in the lowlands of Georgia, as were sheltered camp spots.

Feb. 23

February saw us battling the harsh winter climate of the Caucasus, where the nighttime temperatures froze our diesel and the consistent cold presented daily challenges to us and our poor old van. We, at least, had the comforting heat of a new wood stove.

Mar. 23

March blessed us with the first whisper of warmth we’d felt for months, and with it came the freedom to embrace life outdoors again. The latter half of the month threw challenges our way, as we were reminded of the finite lifespan of our travel vessel once more.

Apr. 23

April watched us travelling at high altitudes through Armenia, a month of whiplash weather that would bestow snow upon us one day and leave us with sunburn the next. The many rivers and springs gave us ample opportunity to bathe and wash our clothes along the way.