From The Sunday Times Travel Magazine

Despite what you might think, travel photography isn't always the most glamorous of jobs. I've had to wade through bat droppings in flip-flops, brave barracuda and dodge angry bulls in the hunt for a perfect picture. But I can't complain - I've had some pretty incredible assignments. Take the story I was covering on beautiful Lankayan island (picture 1 in the slideshow, below left) - a tiny speck in the Sulu Sea off the coast of Malaysian Borneo.

The two people silhouetted by the setting sun are sitting on a helipad that belongs to the army base there. On the left-hand side of the shot you can just see part of a sunken wreck, which is a great spot for snorkelling. As I was taking this shot the wind picked up enough to get the flag fluttering - I set a slow shutter speed to capture the movement of the flag while keeping the background nice and crisp.

I shot that picture on film - I use digital too but it's more expensive as you have to upgrade cameras every two years to keep up with the technology. With film, you only change cameras every 10 to 15 years. If you do choose digital, my number-one tip is to use the viewfinder as you would with a normal camera. If you rely on the LCD screen, you often miss something important.

I was on another Malaysian island, Langkawi, when I took the next picture (picture 2). I'd only just arrived at the Tanjung Rhu resort but the evening light was gorgeous, so I rushed down to the pool.Photographers often say the best light is at dawn or just before sunset, but you can shoot great pictures in the middle of the day, too. In Asia, the midday light can be a little grey though, so you'll need a warming filter, which you can buy in any camera shop.

After that shot, I wandered down to the beach bar for a jetlagged drink, which is where I snapped these musicians (picture 3). It was a perfect moment. The band was playing, I had a G&T in my hand and the sun was setting over a deserted beach.

The school of glinting silver fish (picture 4) was swimming (along with a scary barracuda) around the wreck you can see from the helipad on Lankayan. I used Ewa Marine housing to keep my camera dry - it allows me to free-dive to about five metres. The trickiest underwater shots are when the lens is half in, half out of the water. The housing has a glass port for the lens to look through - the problem is that water beads on the port and gets in the way. But rubbing an apple core on the glass stops the droplets from forming - sounds odd but it works.

I had challenges of a different kind when I travelled to Tudela, south of Pamplona in Spain, to shoot the festival of Santa Anna. They have a running of the bulls, like in Pamplona but less touristy. In the evening there is bullfighting in the main ring. I've seen people get gored, but luckily the guy in the blue shirt (picture 5) escaped unharmed.

Shooting the Petronas Towers in Kuala Lumpur (picture 6) was a more serene experience: it was a drizzly night and they were glowing. I didn't have a tripod so it was a hand-held shot. When you're shooting in low light and need to keep your hands steady, take a deep breath, then take the shot as you breathe out slowly.

The light was just as moody when I snapped the mariachi player with his trumpet (picture 7). I was in a cafe in a small Mexican town near Manzanillo; there had been a thunderstorm and the light was beautiful, glinting on the trumpet. I paid him to play me a few songs, and persuaded him to let me take his picture.

It didn't take much persuading to get the writer I was travelling with to jump overboard into the water off Kota Kinabalu, Malaysia (picture 8). He looks like a sea creature emerging from the deep. I used Fuji's Velvia film to capture the intense blues - it's very good for colour.

It was less idyllic taking the shot of the man outside the Gomantong caves in Borneo (picture 9). The caves are home to swifts' nests, used to make bird's-nest soup - a delicacy in China. This man is carrying a sack full of nests, probably worth at least £15,000. Inside the caves you have to wade through knee-high guano. The smell is terrible - a blend of ammonia and sulphur. We came across all sorts of unidentifiable creepy-crawlies, not to mention a seething wall of cockroaches. My guide blew on them and they started flying all around us - not as pleasant as shooting on a white-sand beach, but every bit as memorable.

Website: www.karljkaul.com

Interview by Josephine Davies

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