So, you’re thinking about a photography workshop? Excellent! But are you really ready? Because if you’re picturing serene landscapes and flawless travel shots, let me introduce you to the Laos Photography Workshop. Here, it’s all about the candid, the chaotic, and the gloriously imperfect — the kind of moments you can’t plan for, the kind that leave you laughing, and the kind you’ll never forget.
“Baw Pen Nyang!” (that’s Lao for “No worries!”) isn’t just a saying here, it’s a way of life. It’s the sound you’ll hear after you’ve spilled coffee on your pajamas, fallen into the Mekong, or bruised your derrière on a Hmong Village road.
We started this whole shebang back in 2016 with the intrepid Delphine and her sister, who probably thought they were signing up for tranquil Southeast Asian enlightenment. Little did they know they were pioneers of organized chaos.
Since then, we’ve welcomed many other brave souls — like Valerie in 2019, queen of the Mekong squats — each of them adding their own chapter to this ongoing saga of soggy bottoms and unforgettable pictures.
And then came François — the first of many repeat guests, who carried with him enough humor to turn every disaster into comedy gold. For more than ten years, he was part of this mad family, bringing his unique mix of enthusiasm, bad timing, and brilliant laughter. He’s no longer with us today, and yes, we miss him terribly. But in true François style, I can’t mention him without smiling: if there’s a patron saint of wet pants, coffee-stained pajamas, and heroic photographic dedication, it’s definitely him.
Walking around Luang Prabang today, you can practically feel the echoes of past adventures: the collective soaks, the bruised behinds, the uproarious laughter, and the surprisingly profound moments of reflection (usually after the chaos, of course). Laos has this magical way of slowing you down, forcing you to embrace the absurd, and capturing it all through your lens. Just remember to keep a dry bag handy.
Morning Alms: Pajamas, Batteries & Cold Coffee (François – 2022)
Let’s start with the mornings. Peaceful streets, orange-robed monks, silence, reverence… unless you’re François.
In 2022, he came racing down the street, still in pajamas, clutching a cup of Lao coffee like it was oxygen. The monks were already halfway done. He slid onto the curb beside us, backpack half-zipped, gasping for air. Out came the camera — but no batteries. Still charging back at the hotel.
He froze. His eyes went wide. And then, as if on cue, he tipped his lukewarm coffee all over himself. A second later, without thinking, he sat right back down on it. Pajamas soaked, pride destroyed, ceremony unintentionally comedic.
A local chuckled: “Baw Pen Nyang.” François, dripping caffeine and despair, whispered back, “No worries…” The morning alms went on, serene and eternal, with François radiating damp chaos from the curb.
Photo Tip: Pack the night before. Set two alarms. And for heaven’s sake, don’t sit on your coffee.
Mekong Light Festival: Squats, Reflections & Shore Mishaps (Valerie – 2019)
Back in 2019, during the Mekong Light Festival, the river shimmered with floating lanterns, flickering candles, and a full moon painting ripples across the water.
Every year, I wade into the Mekong to show the group how to capture the perfect moment: people giving offerings to the river, expressions illuminated by candlelight, aligned with the moon for magical reflections. Of course, this involves squatting knee-deep in the water, trying to balance your frame, and yourself. My butt inevitably gets soaked — ironic, isn’t it? I’m teaching elegance and composition while looking like a drenched frog.
Valerie, also determined to get the ultimate shot, leaned a little too far and thud! She landed squarely on the muddy shore, camera heroically raised above her head. She saved her camera, but her derrière was not so lucky. Soaked, muddy, and slightly bruised, she joined the ranks of soggy-bottomed photographers.
The local guide, unfazed by the chaos, chuckled knowingly: “Baw Pen Nyang.” Valerie muttered back, “No worries…” — and somehow, between the bruises, wet pants, and floating lanterns, the photos were worth every soggy second.
Photo Tip: Go barefoot. Practice your squats. Embrace the wetness. And remember: capturing the perfect moon-lit moment sometimes means sacrificing your derrière.
Hmong Village: Bumpy Roads & Bruised Butts (Valerie – 2019)
As if one soaked derrière weren’t enough, the road to the Hmong Village in 2019 made sure Valerie’s bruise became legendary. That “road” is less “road” and more “endurance test.” Rocks, potholes, gravity — all conspiring against your spine.
Every jolt made Valerie wince harder. At one particularly vicious bump, she nearly levitated off the seat, clutching her camera like a life raft. The driver, amused beyond measure, grinned: “Baw Pen Nyang!”
Valerie, butt now officially in open rebellion, could only laugh. Laos was teaching her — one pothole at a time.
Photo Tip: Strap your gear. Brace your behind. And remember: pain makes the story funnier… later.
Waterfalls: Healing Waters for the Battle-Worn (Valerie – 2019, a few days later)
A few days after the Hmong Village, Valerie finally found redemption at the waterfalls. Her derrière had endured more than most. The turquoise pools shimmered like an invitation, and she needed no convincing. Into the water she went, tripod by her side, letting the cool current soothe her battered butt.
She floated there with a sigh, muttering: “Baw Pen Nyang…” Not just a phrase anymore — a mantra for survival, patience, and soaking up the absurdity of Laos.
Photo Tip: Long exposure for silky water. Quick immersion for silky relief.
Conclusion: What Makes This Workshop Different
From Delphine’s pioneering trip in 2016, to Valerie’s muddy backside in 2019, to François’s coffee-soaked pajamas and brilliant idea to add the 2022 workshop — this journey has never been about perfection. It’s about chaos, laughter, resilience, and the kind of moments you’ll never stage but will always remember.
François, our eternal joker, may not be with us anymore, but his humor and ideas linger in every stumble, every bruise, and every “Baw Pen Nyang” that echoes down a Lao road.
And then… the infamous gin and tonic incident of 2022 — but shhh, it’s a secret. Yes, it was François’s bright idea… until we realized we didn’t have nearly enough tonic. The result? A legendary mess, a few flailing gin bottles, and a story that now lives only in whispered memories. Still, I’ll always remember our Australians, Warwick and Janelle, gin in hand, shrugging with a grin and saying in perfect Aussie slang: “No worries, mate! She’ll be right, ay!”
As for me? I’ve just landed in Luang Prabang a few minutes ago for our 2025 Laos Photo Workshop, ready for the next round of bruises, soaked pants, and new stories to unfold. And if you’re wondering — 2026 is already fully booked!