The alarm rang at 6:00am. I had set it the previous evening with the intention of capturing the early morning life through Porto’s streets. What was the beginning of a new day for me was for others the last remaining moments of an evening out on the town.I rolled out of bed, wandered to the window and looked down upon the University bar which was still busy with patrons finishing off their last drinks and conversations. I laboured to put on my clothes, all the time muttering that this is the life of a photographer. I glanced at Dalene and how comfortable she was and considered crawling back into bed and getting a few more moments of sleep.

But I chose otherwise, grabbed a pastel de nata I had purchased the day before, threw on my shoes and hoodie and went off to work. I kicked my way through a few empty beer cans that lined the street. It was still dark out but I knew I had to pick up my pace in order to capture the first light.

My stride quickened and my energy level rose. I thought to myself how my photography passion was invigorated by this new city. Coming from New Zealand I had started to lose some of that passion, which is strange as it is such a photogenic place. But I just wasn’t feeling it there. Maybe it was the familiarity of the country and that nothing really seemed new. Or maybe it was the negative energy that surrounded us. Regardless, from the moment we landed in Portugal and started to discover Porto, any misgivings I had about my chosen work quickly disappeared.