The soaring verticality, energy and colors of this shot are more important than the presence of an historical temple.

Travel and photography are old companions. French photographers with daguerreotypes were roaming the Pacific as early as 1841, and by the 1870' the British photographer and traveler John Thomson had already broadened photography's portfolio to include the documentary study with his books Street Life in London and Illustrations of China and Its People.

The modern photographer has the advantage of being able to travel light without a Victorian checklist that would have included items such as oak tripods and developing buckets. That doesn't mean that travel photography is a pushover. Many people delude themselves into thinking that the journey, if interesting enough, will provide first-rate pictures as a matter of course. Another popular misconception is that by taking 20 or 30 rolls of film with you on a trip you are bound to get good shots, or that by going somewhere like India, a place that seems an instant feast of color and light, you will automatically succeed. Photography doesn't work like that. Nor does the so-called "machine-gun" approach to photography, whereby several pictures are taken in quick succession in the hope that one brilliant image will emerge.

The dynamics of this picture taken during the Corpus Christi festival in Granada spring from the low camera angle and hand gestures.

While there is an element of luck involved in being in the right place at the right time, with the right lens, film speed and light, ultimately the key to getting good travel pictures can be described in one word - composition. Luck might provide you with one exceptional shot but never a body of work. Pretty much any SLR camera (i.e. one where the photographer views the subject through the lens itself) can produce a professional image, but it's more a question of who is in control of this very simple equipment.

Inspired by film, literature and a requisite pair of itchy feet, the psychology of the road, its dangers and graces and its powers to transform, is a strong motivating myth for the travel photographer. In reality its more than just a myth. Jack Kerouac, the century's ultimate road novelist, recognized the link between travel and images when he wrote his introduction to Robert Frank's photo book The Americans. The book, according to Kerouac, was all about "That crazy feeling in America when the sun is hot on the streets and music comes out of the jukebox or from a nearby funeral." That was what Robert Frank had captured in those "tremendous photographs taken as he traveled on the road around practically forty-eight states in an old used car."

What makes people become travel photographers? Every professional will have a different answer to that question. In my case I was inspired to buy a camera the day after seeing a major retrospective in London of monochrome prints by the documentary giant Henri Cartier-Bresson. Once I had a decent portfolio of shots, I was contracted to photograph refugee camps in Lebanon in the hostage-taking mid 1980s, and to cover events in the capital Beirut. Ten years later, here in Japan, with enough writing and photography projects to junket the teaching jobs, I graduated to full-time photo journalism.

All photographers have their own way of working. If I have a modus operandi at all for travel photography it is to read as much about the destination before and during the trip as possible. I carry two heavy duty Nikon F3s, equipped with a standard 50mm, a wide angle 24mm lens, and a 80-200mm zoom. In addition I take along a medium format Mamiya 645 camera fitted out with a standard 80mm lens, the equivalent in the SLR range of a 50mm. For a typical three-week trip I might pack about 15 rolls of film, usually a mix of Kodachrome 64, 25 and Fuji Velvia, a 50 ASA speed film. Weather permitting, I am on the street by 8am or earlier. I rarely take long lunches, preferring to push the day for all it's worth until the light gives out. Back at the hotel, time is spent cleaning equipment, writing up notes and research reading for the remainder of the trip. I don't take days off and rarely get involved in social situations, unless they are relevant to the task at hand, until the end of the trip, by which time I would expect to have collected material for articles on a number of different subjects: travel, food, art, cultural geography and perhaps an interview. During the trip I will have been thinking in a multi-tiered fashion, how material can be applied to articles, a book, postcards, photo libraries or illustrated lectures.

Only by traveling is it possible to get informal portraits like this.

Good travel photos are the result of carefully planned trips. This is not to say that serendipity, a random, unplanned itinerary, cannot provide great photo opportunities, but knowing where you are going and what you want unquestionably helps. People who know that they are going to Bhutan to photograph monasteries, Yunnan for the flora, or Havana for the vintage 1950s cars, usually get what they want. Planning also applies to equipment and materials. Always keep your equipment dust and humidity free by 'opening up' the body and removing the lens at the end of the day for an inspection cleaning. Add a couple of packets of silicon crystal, a bottle of cleaning fluid and a cloth or packet of lens tissue to your camera bag and your gear should be safe.

The choice of which film to take with you is best made before you leave. Film prices in Japan are surprisingly competitive, especially at large chains such as Yodabashi Camera, where buying in bulk with a customer discount card can reduce the cost even further. And you can be guaranteed of quality, an important factor. An air-conditioned photographic store stumbled upon in the daytime can easily become a steamy, moss-breeding jungle by night. Most Asian cities will be able to develop and process your film provided that it is a well known make like Fuji, but may have problems with professional film. There are no developers, for example, of Kodachrome 64 and 25, arguably the best positive (slide) film on the market. This is not a problem in Japan, where even your local photo shop will accept slow film and pass it on to a Kodak lab for quick processing.

Film storage and maintenance are important considerations. Accidents usually occur when film is exposed to excessive heat, continuous warmth - the type you can get if you leave your rolls in a bag sitting over a bus engine or tire well - or sudden changes such as a long hot drive followed by an over-cooled hotel lobby. Most problems with exposed film come from direct contact with warm surfaces, something that can be avoided by providing ventilation like an open window, when travelling.

What is an ordinary, everyday posture to this man with the baby can seem unique to the travel photographer.

Lead-laminated bags, though by no means infallible, are useful as storage containers and also for passing through X-Ray machines. Most airport equipment is said to be film-safe these days but I'm not completely convinced and always insist on passing a tray of film around them for hand inspection. These bags also help to keep film cool and stable. If you are storing your film in a hotel room, check during the day that your air-conditioning or ceiling fan has not been switched off while you were out. Note that keeping film in a fridge is only a good idea if you are transferring it into a cool transitional stage before putting it in for development. If it is going back into a hot, brothy atmosphere, expect trouble. When film gets old it deteriorates which results in, among other things, unwanted graininess, peculiar color shifts, low contrast and color blending. Surprisingly, the expiry date is not something you need to be too exacting about. Unused film, stored and handled properly, should last up to six months beyond the printed date. Film, once in the camera, is far more fragile.

Strategies for taking good travel photographs once you have established that your equipment is up to the task, are legion. A rather calculated way of choosing good subjects for travel shots is to buy postcards of places of interest, main sights and attractions. Most of us prefer a more unscripted approach, but postcards do have their uses. On a recent trip to southern Laos I took a batch of postcards of different hill tribes which proved excellent tools for overcoming the language barrier and getting pointed in the right direction to each ethnic group depicted on the card.

An Ornamented section of a Hani tribal women's headdress, taken in Xishuangbanna, China.

There is no shortage of photo magazines and handbooks to help guide the aspiring travel photographer, but in the final analysis photography is largely a question of intuition. Training the eye by exposure to the best work available in books and exhibitions can help to develop skills, of course. But if you don't intuitively recognize what makes a good image you will never, with the exception of a total fluke, succeed in taking outstanding photos.

Making travel photography your living is a serious business requiring a level of self-exertion and discipline that does not come naturally to most of us. It's something that has to be deliberately cultivated, requiring objectivity that can at times be detached, almost callous. Successful travel photographers are rarely complacent beings, content with a memory of the best shots from their last roll of film. This restlessness, perceived in normal life as a deficiency, a sign of impatience or anxiety, is a source of strength to the photographer, who lives in the fluid world of the unformed, yet-to-be conceived picture. When asked which of her images was her favorite, the American photographer Imogen Cunningham wisely replied, "The one I'm going to take tomorrow."

Stephen Mansfield has had six travel related books published in the last four years. He is currently working as a contributor to the Eyewitness Japan Guide due out next year. His Guide to Yunnan: China's Land Beyond the Clouds (Bradt Publications) will come out in May 2000.