Three Rolls, Cold Air, Old Friends — Notes from Western Sichuan
Some trips feel like a continuation of a story we’ve been writing for years.
This one started after Chiang Mai — a simple “let’s plan something next year” among friends who’ve known each other for almost a decade.
No pressure, no big agenda… just a promise to travel together again.
And so we did:
Western Sichuan in winter — cold air, silly spicy food, highland roads, and the kind of company that makes even the long drives feel short.
I brought my Leica M3 with the Simera 50mm f/1.4,
three rolls of film — two Kodacolor 200 (first time testing the new one) and one Ultramax 400—
and my usual digital setup.
But honestly, I didn’t shoot much.
Maybe I didn’t want to.
Maybe the laughter was more important this time.
Unexpected Mishaps (Which Somehow Made the Trip Better)
Every journey has its stories.
Ours came early:
I dropped my 12–100mm f/4 — gone, broken.
My friend smashed his drone into a hill — also gone.
Half the group got hit by highland altitude sickness
The weather decided to remind us we were absolutely not built for the cold.
But none of it ruined anything.
If anything, it made the trip funnier, more memorable, more “us.”
There’s something about traveling with old friends —
accidents turn into stories,
problems turn into jokes,
and the journey becomes lighter than it should be.
Shooting Less, Feeling More
With only three rolls of film,
every frame felt intentional… but also relaxed.
No rush, no need to “produce,” no pressure to come home with masterpieces.
I shot what felt honest —
snow hanging off tree branches,
mountain villages wrapped in morning fog,
children playing,
small quiet scenes along the road.
Sometimes the Leica stayed in my bag for hours
because the conversations were better than the scenery.
It felt good.
Simple.
Human.
This trip reminded me that photography doesn’t always need to lead the journey.
Sometimes it just records the rhythm of good company.
The Vibe That Stayed With Me
Western Sichuan is beautiful in a quiet, unpolished way.
The cold bites but never pushes you away.
The food is spicy enough to make you question your life choices,
yet somehow you keep eating.
The roads are long,
the air thin,
the mountains patient.
You move slower because the place invites it.
But what stayed with me wasn’t the landscape —
it was the feeling of being with people
who’ve walked different paths in life
but still choose to travel together after all these years.
Old friends.
Warm laughter.
Cold air.
And three rolls of film that captured just enough.
A Trip Meant to Be Remembered Slowly
I didn’t come back with thousands of images.
I came back with a few frames,
a broken lens,
some funny altitude sickness stories,
a lost drone,
and a heart that felt lighter.
Maybe that’s what Western Sichuan wanted to give me.
A reminder that not every trip needs to be a photography mission.
Some trips are meant for slowing down,
shooting less,
laughing more,
and remembering that good company
can be the best scenery of all.
