Planning the JourneyThere’s nothing I love more than travelling with my partner in our motorhome, camping under the stars and waking with the dawn. In winter, many grey nomads head north from the southern states. This year, a family wedding in Brisbane became the catalyst for something I’d long dreamed of—capturing a bird’s eye view of the Channel Country in flood.
Spontaneous photography is usually my style: I like reacting to what’s happening in the landscape. But in Birdsville, during peak tourist season, you can’t just turn up and hope for a flight. I booked a half-day tour in advance—an aerial loop over Kati Thanda–Lake Eyre and the Channel Country, with a stop at William Creek. When I booked, the Diamantina Development Road had only just reopened to four-wheel drives. Thankfully, payment wasn’t due until arrival, so committing early made sense.
I usually sketch out a rough route but avoid booking accommodation—our self-contained motorhome gives us that freedom. Outback towns are welcoming, with free camps, dump points and water stations. WikiCamps is my go-to app for finding sites, but we also rely on visitor centres for maps and tips, and on fellow travellers whose stories are often better than any brochure.
Packing the Gear
One of the luxuries of motorhome travel is not having to agonise over which lenses to leave behind. I carry two bodies, a full lens kit, tripod, filters, spare batteries, external drives, laptop, and a DJi Mini 3Pro drone. I also lean on apps—BOM, Windy, Clear Outside, PhotoPills—but often the best forecast comes from poking my head out the window.
One of the luxuries of motorhome travel is not having to agonise over which lenses to leave behind. I carry two bodies, a full lens kit, tripod, filters, spare batteries, external drives, laptop, and a DJi Mini 3Pro drone. I also lean on apps—BOM, Windy, Clear Outside, PhotoPills—but often the best forecast comes from poking my head out the window.
Winter is perfect for spontaneous travel—sunrise happens at a reasonable hour, and the Outback’s 360-degree horizons mean you’re often treated to both sunrise and sunset from the same campsite.
Chasing the Light
Camping outside keeps you attuned to the changing light conditions. Storm fronts, cloud banks, shafts of gold—it all plays out across the flat horizon. After the heavy rains that had preceded us, we found waterholes brimming with birdlife and were lucky enough to see Brolgas dancing at sunrise.
Camping outside keeps you attuned to the changing light conditions. Storm fronts, cloud banks, shafts of gold—it all plays out across the flat horizon. After the heavy rains that had preceded us, we found waterholes brimming with birdlife and were lucky enough to see Brolgas dancing at sunrise.
Station stays are increasingly popular, and apps like HipCamp make it easy to camp on private land. But I’m especially fond of the free waterhole sites, where reflections, birds, and silhouettes against the sky keep my camera busy.
However, winter skies can be relentlessly clear. Without the drama of cloud cover, I look for other ways to use the light. We were travelling in peak Milky Way season, but a bright moon washed out the first half of our night skies, so I put my astro plans on hold and leaned into what the landscape offered. That’s the balance between planning and letting go—structure helps, but spontaneity delivers the surprises.
The Channel Country in Flood
The highlight of this journey was flying over Channel Country. The Channel Country is an intricate network of braided rivers in Queensland’s far southwest, that only flows after heavy rain, transforming the desert into a vast fertile floodplain that stretches for hundreds of kilometres and ultimately feeds into Kati Thanda-Lake Eyre in South Australia.
The highlight of this journey was flying over Channel Country. The Channel Country is an intricate network of braided rivers in Queensland’s far southwest, that only flows after heavy rain, transforming the desert into a vast fertile floodplain that stretches for hundreds of kilometres and ultimately feeds into Kati Thanda-Lake Eyre in South Australia.
I was unusually nervous on the day. Not about the small plane flight but about mucking up my shoot. Aerial photography is where my heart sings and I really wanted to get this right.
I carried two Canon R6 bodies, one with a RF24–105mm lens and the other with a RF70–200mm. I’ve removed all filters and packed spare cards and batteries. I shoot in manual and pre-program my camera. Shutter speed 1/2000s, Aperture f/5.6, auto ISO (capped at 6400), choosing evaluative metering, an expanded auto focus area, and single shot advance. You are shooting from very far away and the country is flat, so depth of field is not an issue. I underexpose by 1/3 of a stop because highlights on water can blow out fast. I kept an eye on the histogram, zooming in now and then to my images to check for sharpness.
Our flight traced Eyre Creek and Goyder Lagoon, followed the Warburton River to Kati-Thanda, then landed in William Creek for a break at its legendary pub. The second leg followed Cooper Creek and more flooded channels before swooping over Big Red at sunset—a photographer’s dream in every direction.
Abstract photographers often seek metaphors in their images. For me, the metaphors emerge later. In that moment, it was all about composition using the colours, textures, form and shape laid out before me.
Festival Photography in the Outback
The Outback is alive with opportunities for photographers and travellers in the winter. Winter out here isn’t just about the landscapes—it’s about community. That’s how we ended up in Boulia for the camel races. The camel racing circuit includes Jundah, Birdsville, Bedourie & Winton pulling together locals and travellers from far and wide in equal measure.
The Outback is alive with opportunities for photographers and travellers in the winter. Winter out here isn’t just about the landscapes—it’s about community. That’s how we ended up in Boulia for the camel races. The camel racing circuit includes Jundah, Birdsville, Bedourie & Winton pulling together locals and travellers from far and wide in equal measure.
I was fortunate to score a media pass as a volunteer photographer which opened up brilliant vantage points. Besides the races, there’s camel tagging, novelty events like the jocks and socks race, live music, kids’ rides and plenty of colour. For a photographer, the combination of dust, motion and character is irresistible.
Our tickets to the races included free camping. An invitation to camp with some friends we had met along the journey was an added highlight. The nights were spent around a shared fire under stars that felt impossibly close.
Reflection—Why the Outback?
This story only scratches the surface of our journey. Along the way we detoured to Lark Quarry to marvel at the only known fossilised dinosaur stampede. We soaked in artesian baths, watched chicken races in Tambo, traced Australia’s political history at Barcaldine, and lingered in Winton where Brolgas danced beside our campsite.
This story only scratches the surface of our journey. Along the way we detoured to Lark Quarry to marvel at the only known fossilised dinosaur stampede. We soaked in artesian baths, watched chicken races in Tambo, traced Australia’s political history at Barcaldine, and lingered in Winton where Brolgas danced beside our campsite.
It is hard to articulate why we love the Outback so much. Perhaps it is the vastness— that endless stretch of red earth beneath a cloudless blue sky. The sense of freedom you feel in this remoteness, where the distances are great and time feels like it moves more slowly, or not at all. It is a stillness that isn’t empty. It is alive with the quiet hum of life that knows how to survive in silence. The land speaks in low, ancient tones, and when you really listen, you feel connected to something much older and deeper than yourself.
Out here, you’re not just away from the world—you’ve entered another one. For a photographer, the challenge is to honour that spirit. To capture not just what it looks like but how it makes you feel.