Only about 200 metres from the hotel, I discovered a working fish market on the beach. Round basket boats were bringing in the night’s catch while fishermen pulled them onto the sand. Women gathered around baskets of fresh fish and seafood, sorting, weighing and selling it as the city began to wake.
We arrived in Da Nang late after a delayed flight from Saigon. By the time we reached the hotel, it was dark, and there was little to see beyond the lights outside.
At around 5:30 the next morning, I woke and looked through my hotel window. Small fishing boats were moving across the water as the sky slowly changed from deep blue to gold.
Anyone who knows me knows that I am curious—probably borderline ADHD—and always observing what is happening around me. I couldn’t simply admire the view and go back to bed. I wanted to know where those boats were going and what was happening below.
So, naturally, I grabbed my camera and went downstairs.
Nothing was staged. This was simply everyday life in Da Nang.
People photography has always been one of my greatest loves. I enjoy observing people, but I am also comfortable talking to almost anyone. That ability often breaks down the barrier between photographer and subject, allowing something more honest to happen.
While I photographed the people at the market, some of the locals began photographing me. For a moment, the camera was pointing both ways. We may not have shared much language, but curiosity and a smile were enough.
From my hotel window, the fishing boats had appeared small and distant. By following them down to the beach, I discovered the people, traditions and working life behind that view.
This is what Beyond the Hotel means to me.
The hotel may be where the journey begins, but the real story is often waiting just outside—sometimes only 200 metres away.
