Tent Ridge, Kananaskis.

Every week in summer had me asking the same question: “which trail should I try this weekend?”. Cue messaging all my friends to see who was free to join, and behold, a plan would emerge. Tent Ridge in Kananaskis Country will forever remain one of the best hikes I've ever done. At first, you're taken through the forest before the trail opens up into a lush valley, where the green contrasts with stone and stubborn patches of remaining snow. Look up and ahead and you're surrounded by what's to come: a wall of rock that is the ridge you'll be traversing.

I love trails that have a variety of scenery, some scrambling, and just enough ascending to make you work for it, but not so much that you are simply miserable. On this hike, there are three “peaks” to ascend and descend, providing you worthy points at which you can stop to enjoy the view, admiring the valley below you before you work to make it to the next peak. It was truly rewarding, and I look forward to doing this again next season.

Two days in Paris.

Ordinarily, I like to steer well clear of travelling in big cities. The beeping of car horns and obnoxious blaring of stereos (what do you have to prove?); stressed, tense faces on the sidewalk; shiny shopping centres set against monotonous clumps of office buildings; the smell of rubbish, cigarette smoke and goodness-knows-what-else—if you already live in a city, it makes you wonder why you left the hustle and bustle of your own life simply to contemplate your existence in a similarly drab atmosphere somewhere else.

However—there are some cities in the world I know I definitely want to see before I fall asleep forever, and Paris is one of those. Paris was one of the first cities I had been excited to go to when I was younger, and French is the language I was drawn to learn in high school (for reasons I couldn't and still cannot explain).

So, when I received my original flight itinerary from LUX* Resorts and saw that I was scheduled for a 6 hour layover in Paris (departing Mauritius on the way back to Canada), I couldn't help but ask to be put on a different flight for two days later. I then planned to meet up with my friend Ashleigh, who I hadn't seen in over a year since she moved to Amsterdam from Brisbane. I knew that I wasn't ever going to be able to see all of Paris in two days, so I concentrated simply on doing less with intention. All I wanted was to roam our neighbourhood; sit in the Champs du Mars with a small picnic of croissants or a baguette, strawberries, cheese and a small bottle of wine; visit just one art gallery, and the rest we'd leave to unfold on its own. And unfold it did. We visited a market just down our street and marvelled at old photographs; came across a beautiful and kind stranger who let me take her photograph; spontaneously decided to see the sunrise over the Canal St. Martin; stumbled into a free live music concert in the middle of the street when walking home on our last night. I left Paris tired, but content, knowing there would be plenty left to explore whenever I return.

LUX* Saint Gilles, La Réunion.

My final trip with LUX* Resorts was at LUX* Saint Gilles, Île-de-La-Reunion. Unlike Mauritius, where the official language is English but the locals also speak French and Mauritian Creole, Réunion is one of France's “overseas departments”, therefore making their official language French, with the locals also speaking Réunion Creole. It was the 3 days I spent on this little island where I was able to truly had to exercise what little French I knew/could remember from school.

LUX* Le Morne, Mauritius.

After the Maldives, I travelled to Mauritius, running my workshops at Belle Mare & Le Morne. LUX* Le Morne was the last of the two resorts I visited, and was a beautiful way to end my stay in the country. In the car from the island's north-east to south-west, I was captivated by the changing landscape as we drove closer and closer to the mountains. This is what makes LUX* Le Morne unique—it's a resort that sits by the sea whilst having a mountain as its backdrop. Le Morne Brabant is a baby in comparison to the mountains of the Rockies, with its summit being 556m, but it certainly has a backstory (and is also a UNESCO World Heritage Site):

The peninsula was notorious in the early 19th century as a refuge for runaway slaves. After the abolition of slavery in Mauritius, on 1 February 1835 a police expedition was despatched there ostensibly to inform the slaves that they had been freed. At the time the slaves had been using Le Morne summit for many years as a look-out point to spot military despatches from Port Louis being sent to re-capture them. On previous occasions when these attempts had been carried out they had been spotted by the look-outs, the warning issued to the rest of the slaves who chose to leap to their deaths from the rock, (into the area now known as 'The Valley of Bones'), rather than be recaptured back into slavery.—Le Morne Brabant, Wikipedia

The warmer weather here in comparison to the north of the island meant I felt more inclined to be outside. There was so much to do, and none of it was anything I'd be able to do in the Rockies. So I snorkelled amongst coral and tropical fish, learnt to sail (and sailed poorly, but there's a first time for everything), kayaked across crystal clear water, and most memorable of all—I swam with dolphins for the first time. I look forward to the day being waterproof is just a standard feature of DSLRs, because using a GoPro simply didn't do it justice for me.

Beyond being a collection of new experiences, there were new connections to treasure as well. Conversations on sand after snorkelling and exploring the local reef. Photographing new friends as they taste freshly caught sea urchin (but none for this vegetarian, thanks). Walking by floating bonfires and listening to live saxophone. Sitting on a beanbag on the sand while enjoying the Mauritian version of a mulled wine while a woman sings and plays acoustic guitar. Talking about our lives back home and people-watching. What better way to form new friendships than in a setting where you're experiencing something new?

As always, more imagery below.

LUX* South Ari Atoll, Maldives.

You know that giddy, electrifying feeling when you're aware you're about to have a life-defining moment? This was one of those times.

Let's backtrack a little: in the year before I left Australia, I pursued my love of teaching and my love of photography, running photography workshops in South Brisbane with Workshop Brisbane/Workshop Australia. Although I've always been naturally drawn to any form of teaching, I'm often shy to start—perhaps because, like many creatives, I suffer from a severe case of impostor syndrome, and that I can't possibly be good enough in anything to be teaching it to somebody else. I doubt there's ever going to be a piece of paper, milestone or accolade that will make me feel as if I am, but strangely, that seems to keep me going.

In December—in the car on the way to dinner with my fellow yoga teachers, frustrated with an ankle still healing from surgery, and on crutches, no less—I got the call about this: the opportunity to run my photography workshops at LUX* Resorts in the Maldives, Mauritius and Reunion Island.

Four lakes in a day.

The week before I left for my trip to the Indian Ocean for LUX* Resorts (more on that soon) was an...interesting one. We moved from our house, our first home in Canmore where we made many a great friend, to a condo deeper into the forests and mountains, further from town, but closer to the wild and the wildlife. A day later, Martin's sister and her boyfriend Andy came to visit, and so, as all good tourists do in the Canadian summer, we took them to Banff & Lake Louise.

First, we visited Moraine Lake—early—to avoid the seas of people that would inevitably arrive. Then we headed over to Lake Louise to do the Lake Agnes Teahouse Trail. Including passing by Mirror Lake, we managed to see four beautiful Canadian lakes in a day. Lake Agnes was still in the process of thawing completely, but that's not so surprising for the start of the season...

Winter in Maligne Canyon, Jasper National Park.

An extension of our epic winter roadtrip story, here's a dedicated photo story from Maligne Canyon, Jasper National Park. We decided to visit Maligne after winter highway closures changed our plans while we were on the road to Canmore, and we had absolutely no regrets. The canyon was like something out of Frozen—the waterfalls, creeks and riverbeds were solid and glass-like, and the rocks and trees were covered in fluffy, untouched snow. We even got to see a few ice-climbing groups (definitely on my to-do list for while I'm in Canada!).

We took ourselves on a self-guided tour (read: not on a marked trail with an experienced guide) into the canyon, and although we made it in and out just fine, I think next time we'll pack a pair of ice cleats, microspikes or crampons. Walking on ice even in decent winter hiking boots was treacherous at times and we went at a snail's pace. Given my ankle injury, my cousin and Martin suggested that I shouldn't enter the main canyon, as the surface leading to it was pure ice. Nevertheless, I got some great photos from where I was standing. I found taking photos to be quite challenging that day, as the white balance (the colour temperature of light) changed all the time depending on where I was in the canyon (thank goodness for editing). Now that I know what to expect, I look forward to returning, this time with those ice cleats, a tripod and maybe some hand-warmers.

An epic winter roadtrip story: Vancouver to Jasper to Canmore.

It's been three weeks since our first Canadian roadtrip and our journey from Vancouver. Even crazier still, it's been almost 3 exact months since we left Australia. The day-to-day looks and feels and smells so different, but better yet, it feels like home. Everything about it sits right with us.

As you may have read from my earlier blog posts, we got hit with some wild winter weather in Vancouver, with some serious and unexpected snowmageddon hitting British Columbia & Alberta the week before we moved to Canmore. What was meant to be a simple, scenic roadtrip to the Rockies turned into a pretty eventful journey.

Bowen Lookout: Cypress Mountain.

This is definitely one of my favourite experiences in Vancouver to date: backcountry hiking in Cypress Mountain. Martin, my cousin Julien and I had made a plan to visit Cypress after a week of good weather and our trip to Grouse. Unfortunately at the last minute Martin came down with a cold after weeks of us feeling rundown and exhausted, so Julien and I went alone.

The drive to Cypress takes about 40 minutes from where we are in the greater Vancouver area. It wasn't a particularly sunny day at the start, but as you'll see in the photos, that certainly changed (and with a maximum of 11ºC that day, it truly was a pleasant day for it).

Hiking in snow is unfamiliar terrain for my feet as it is let alone with my recent ankle surgery, so Julien picked an easy, but no less beautiful track: the Bowen Lookout trail. A relatively easy 5km return, the Bowen Lookout trail rewarded us with stunning, clear views of Howe Sound, Bowen Island & the Gulf Islands, not to mention boundless beauty along the way. I can just imagine having a little picnic at the lookout during the summer (although you'll see the snow certainly didn't deter a group of four from sitting down to share some Earl Grey tea during theirs, I overheard).

Capilano Suspension Bridge.

From a grey and rainy day, two weeks ago at Capilano Suspension Bridge. It was beautiful being amongst the treetops, although I will admit the main bridge was sometimes too crowded for my liking. Even for a rainy day many were out to marvel at the scenery (with good reason), but it meant that walking was slow and taking photos was difficult at times, especially as the bridge sways. Nonetheless, Capilano is worth the trip. I have yet to visit its sister, the Lynn Canyon Suspension Bridge, which is meant to be quieter and far less “touristy” (perhaps not any more after one too many blog posts from people like me!).

Grouse Mountain.

Vancouver welcomed us with day-after-day-after-day of rain in our first week here (just standard west coast life I guess). Just as I thought it would never end, on the Friday of that week we were gifted with a beautifully sunny day to break up the grey. We spontaneously decided to head to the mountains to make the most of it, and paid our first visit to Grouse Mountain.

Keeping in theme with our week of firsts, we hired out snowshoes to explore the trails. As both of us have leg injuries, we can't ski, snowboard or ice skate, so snowshoeing or hiking will be the way for us to explore the mountains. On Grouse, we spent most of our time on the Light Walk, which was a pretty easy and short circuit, but one that took us about an hour simply because I kept stopping to take photos. As the name suggests, this trail was full of light displays (and was probably meant for a romantic evening walk/first date material). It made us feel like we were in a fairytale, but you'll note I haven't put too many photos of the lights here seeing as they were harder to capture in the daytime. Perhaps next time we'll stay for dusk to truly enjoy the Light Walk, and maybe even do some tobogganing or explore the longer trails.

In the summer, when all this snow melts, some people do the Grouse Grind. With a 2.9-km (1.8-mile) ascent and an elevation gain of 853 metres (2,800 feet), it's not for the faint-hearted (and I don't just mean metaphorically-speaking).

Moments from: Vancouver, British Columbia.

Some highlights from the first two-and-a-half weeks in our new home city of Vancouver. For the first 10 days, we stayed at a lovely Airbnb in Strathcona. It helped us ease into Canadian life and really sink into the rhythm of the city. We took our first week “off”, exploring the neighbourhood together, ignoring our phones, avoiding turning on our laptops, and reclaiming a lot of lost time. The last 8 months leading up to this move felt like were definitely absolute turmoil, with many an unexpected change and challenge, and it took its toll on our relationship. We were not in the best place when we left, and it made us both really question whether we were making the “right” choice.

Upon arriving, we left that stress behind us and took some time to soak in the reality of what we'd done. Together, we had made a conscious choice to leave our life as we knew it behind, and leap into a couple of years of adventure. To live with a bit more intention, observing all the while what works for us and what doesn't; what aligns with us and what doesn't. It's liberating to have been able to do this, but as you can imagine, difficult, and I'm sure this road is paved with more challenges (what would life be without them?).

Next Friday, life changes once again, as we embark on a small road-trip to our new home in the Canadian Rockies. We're excited about the stories we have yet to tell, and the stories we'll walk away with. Keep an eye on my Instagram/Instagram story for updates along the way.

Sydney, August 2016.

Last week I was in Sydney once more. I helped my sister move house, met up with friends, and did a lot of shooting, both for work and for pleasure. Since I've transitioned to full-time freelancing, I've fallen in love with photography again. I've never hated photography, but something feels different now. Sure, being in a different city helps with that excitement and novelty, but I've been to Sydney many times before and it wasn't until this year that I've really felt that spark for photography return. I'm excited about where my photography is taking me—I'm not sure where exactly that is, and I can't really describe it or put a name to it, I just know it's taking me somewhere. I love that I'm exploring within my photography again, and these days instead of only ever taking the camera out to shoot for clients or for “work”, I have it with me more often and it's reminded me how I came to be here in the first place. This is how my relationship with photography began: snapping things that pique my interest, even if those things may seem totally mundane to others. It's nice to be back here, to feel giddy like how I did when all this started.

The cute little lady in the photos below is my talented friend and fellow Brisbane lens wrangler, Annie, who happened to be in Sydney at the same time I did and spent lots of time adventuring and photo-ing with me.

Places featured in the photos below: Edition Coffee Roasters, Darlinghurst; Bondi Beach; Bills, Darlinghurst; Royal Botanic Gardens; Sydney Opera House; Kürtősh, Darlinghurst; Bills, Surry Hills; Citta Design, Surry Hills.

Oh, Canada.

Oh, Canada. The land of “sorry”, Justin Trudeau, maple syrup, ice hockey and fresh alpine air. Home to some of the world's cleanest and greenest cities, and soon, home to us, because next year, Martin & I are waving goodbye to the Land Down Under and saying hello to the Great White North.

We’ll be in Australia until January, but the next few months will fly! Come November, I will be strictly limiting my intake of new freelance work to maximise time with family & friends. Workshops will still be running through December, but I have very few weekend shooting spots left between now and then, so if you wanted to shoot together, now is the time—message me asap to organise. You can write to me at: hello@camillenathania.com.au.

Winter in Byron Bay, July 2016.

When my brother was enjoying spring on the other side of the world in Montréal, I promised him I'd take him to my favourite spots in Byron Bay when he returned to Australia. The advantage of being my own boss is that I don't have to wait for the right weekend to do this—so last Tuesday, in his last week of uni holidays, we ventured down the coast and past the border into beloved Byron Bay. It was an unseasonably warm week even for us in south-east Queensland/northern New South Wales, reaching anywhere between 25ºC-30ºC on most days. Don't let my turtleneck in these photos fool you—I had put it on in the morning thinking it might be quite windy by the water, but I was way too warm in it.

It's often the case that the people we spend the most time with are the people we photograph the least. Not because we don't appreciate or care for their presence, but more because we know we will see them again. With January and my move to Canada with Martin fast-approaching, I can see myself spending more days like this. Leaving more room for spontaneity and the people I love, knowing that it will be a while before I see them again, and taking as many photos as possible of all these everyday moments.

Photos of me below taken by my dear little brother, Carl.

Milk Beach.

During my solo weekend in Sydney I spent an afternoon with my cousin and his friends, bidding farewell to Jon, who was returning to America the next day. We had a little picnic, played guitar, did some yoga, danced and laughed as the sun went down and winter's evening chill set in. I formed a bond instantly with this affectionate, warm and welcoming group of people. It was as if I'd known them all my life. Group situations can be hard for me due to anxiety, so being totally comfortable around a group of people I've never met before means so much to me. I'm happy to say we've continued to stay in touch since, and I'll be seeing them again very soon.

Surry Hills.

Last month I was back in Sydney, but through a series of unfortunate—but actually, fortunate—events I found myself in this big city all on my own. I've been visiting Sydney a few times yearly ever since my sister moved down there, but she ended up having to go to Melbourne during the last weekend I was down, leaving me to explore all on my own.

The Friday I arrived I took myself on a date around Surry Hills. At St. Jude's I enjoyed an omelette, my soy latté and a book I started at the beginning of the year but still haven't finished; after a while, I wandered down to Bourke St. Bakery and got myself a seeded sourdough loaf—yes, the hype over their bread is real, and worth the wait; then I explored Crown St. for hours, letting my curious eyes take everything in. This is how my journey in photography began: shooting whatever piqued my interest, for no reason other than it was interesting. There doesn't always have to be a point, and if shooting anything and everything is still as enjoyable to me as it was a decade ago, well...I guess this is what I'm meant to do. Photography has allowed me to see magic in the most everyday of things, and it's the gift that keeps on giving.

I set myself a challenge that weekend to bring my least used lens—so everything in this post was shot with my 85mm f/1.8. I forgot how enjoyable it was to shoot with a prime (a fixed-length lens, meaning there's no zooming in or out). You're forced to move to adjust your composition and in most cases it asks you to see things in a totally different way. I can't remember the last time I was able to shoot for myself, by myself, but I can't wait to do it all again.

Canada: Stanley Park, Vancouver.

My Canada recap ends at Stanley Park. Here, I'm going to let the photos do the rest of my talking. I leave you with an excerpt taken from my January Head/Heart, on one of my simplest, fondest memories that took place right here:

On our very last day in Vancouver, Martin and I walked around Stanley Park, Vancouver's giant, beautiful park sitting right at the edge of a bay, in the heart of the city. As the sun set, we decided to stop by a park bench and sit there awhile, underneath a great big tree that had long lost its leaves to winter. There we sat in a comfortable silence, perhaps the most comfortable silence I've ever known; even my heart and my mind were still, something that, for me, is rare. So relaxed I was, nestled in the arm of this man who takes care of me in more ways than he knows, that I fell asleep right there, to the sound of the gently lapping waves; the cyclists, the runners, and the conversations of passersby; the many birds, the light breeze through the many trees around us, and the low hum of city life. All the world fell away and became quiet, and I was safe, even from myself. That half hour, a seemingly ordinary and mundane way to spend the last few moments in a foreign city, is a half hour I will cherish forever. It's these little things that make life.

Canada: Whistler, British Columbia.

Our last week in Canada was spent back on the west coast. We took a bus straight to Whistler after landing in Vancouver. I had every intention of taking photos in the bus while we were on the scenic Sea-to-Sky Highway, but I fell asleep for most of the ride, and upon waking, opted to enjoy the view with my own eyes instead of trying to capture it through highly reflective glass.

We arrived late in the afternoon, and by the time we put our bags in our room, had a small rest and made rough plans for the evening it was close to sunset. We headed straight for the tube park, spending a couple of hours sliding with incredible velocity down a bumpy, snowy hill then climbing all the way back up to do it all over again. I was giddy from the entire experience, an amazing way to start our next two days at Whistler. The next day we would zip-line in the mountains shortly after sunrise, flying airborne through the trees, breathing in the fresh alpine air (sadly couldn't bring my DSLR, although I did take a couple of iPhone shots here and here); in the afternoon we snowmobiled in the backcountry, stopping at a cabin for hot apple cider and freshly baked cookies.

Canada: Montréal, Quebec.

This is a selection of photos taken during our last day and last morning in Montréal. Martin and I spent most of our last day walking around the city. My brother had his uni orientation so wouldn't be spending the day with us. We ate breakfast with him at Café Martin (chosen for both the name and the good reviews), then left him at the campus. It was grey and rainy and it already felt like goodbye, which led to a deep pit of sadness lingering in me all day. I barely took any photos.

Although I knew we'd be seeing each other for dinner and a bit of TV back at our apartment before he walked back to his dorm later that night, my insides felt heavy knowing we'd have to part ways—for 6 months—in the morning. That had been our routine for the last three days: we'd all have dinner together, watch Netflix at our Airbnb, and I'd make sure my brother left our apartment no later than 9:45pm to walk back to his dorm, which, thankfully, was only 10 minutes away. We avoided telling our mother that he walked back to his place in the dark, on his own, in the snow until he had already done it several times and it could be proven that nothing terrible would happen to him.