Like most photographers, I go to the library and take out books and magazines about the place to get a basic understanding of the geography and demographics, the industries—all the things that make a place tick. But I find that there’s nothing better than research on the spot.

When I teach photography workshops, the first thing I tell my students is to get rid of 90 percent of the equipment they carry around. I tell them the job’s really about getting the picture, not about carrying a lot of lenses. Occasionally you might need a wide lens for a museum interior, or a long lens for a shore bird. But about 95 percent of what I do can be done with a normal or a 35-mm lens. My approach has always been to use one type of film, one camera, one lens, and to spend my time thinking about the picture situation. It’s very easy to get bogged down in equipment.

Yes, this entire job was shot on Provia. Sometimes, when the light is getting low, I’ll push it one stop to ISO 200. It’s a very easy film to push.

I actually carry two on the street—one body with a 35-mm lens out and ready, and another body with a 28-mm in the bag, or perhaps a 50-mm. I may take an SLR [single-lens reflex] with a long lens, but I hardly ever use it.

That’s right. For some reason, that’s advice that most people don’t like. My workshop students hope to learn some kind of hardware secret for taking pictures, not that it’s all in your head. The look that comes over their faces is usually disappointment. One student told me it was like hearing that he had to win the Indianapolis 500 with an old Chevy.

Right. He missed my point. During one workshop in Santa Fe, I saw one of my students trying to photograph at a market with two big motor-driven cameras, their lenses sticking out on both sides of him, big backpack, bumping into people, knocking things down. There was no chance that this guy was going to do anything but call attention to himself. This kind of thing can also violate the other precept I have about travel photography, and that is to respect the culture and people you’re photographing. Know the local taboos so that you don’t accidentally offend someone. If wearing a hat indoors or wearing red socks is considered rude, then you should know enough about the place beforehand not to do that.

I do, and it helps.

Well, I like the look of it. Most color photographers I know prefer to work in early or late light, because colors are more saturated and the mood is usually better. But twilight is also when a lot of things happen, especially in the tropics. A lot of festivals occur then because nobody wants to be out in the midday heat.

Yes. I use a very small, simple flash unit, a Vivitar 2800 with a little warming gel, in the hot shoe of the camera. I mix the ambient light with the flash by using a slow shutter speed to record the ambient light. You couldn’t get this picture without a little flash to light the foreground.

That was shot from my hotel room. I always ask for a room with a view. And of course they tell you they don’t have one. So I explain that I’m a photographer and that the city is so beautiful—I just love that church, that firehouse—and I’d do anything to get a good picture of them at night. The next thing you know, they’ve found a room. People will respond to your interest.

Here’s a case where I invested a lot of time in the picture. It’s a very straightforward picture, but I got up before dawn to go out with these fishermen. By the time they’re bringing in their catch, I’m their buddy, because we’ve spent four hours making small talk. Most of the pictures I’ve published that I consider good usually involve hours or even days. A lot of boring hours, actually, waiting for something to happen, always wondering whether it will. In this case, they had a good catch, but I had invested hours in this situation, shooting various pictures before this one.

Yes, because some of my best pictures happen before or after the event. I always hang around until the last person leaves. These horseback riders [left], for example, I photographed after a parade, when the riders were just milling around. I like the multiple layers of the composition—they make the picture intriguing.

A grab shot. I had stopped to check out the view of the city, and I happened to have my camera in hand when he approached me. I literally got off one frame after greeting him. Goes to show that you have to be prepared. I never leave the camera behind.

Not at all. I was out on Palomino Island, part of the El Conquistador resort, when I saw that palm tree. Now when you’re a photographer, you not only have to see the big scene, you’ve also got to isolate one little part of it. It’s easy to be like a kid in a candy store in these exotic places, shooting everything, but you’ve got to calm down and find something emblematic of the whole. I shot people walking past this tree and then suddenly came a group of riders. I shot them and then asked this one girl to ride back and forth, because I thought it might be a cover possibility.

No, it’s a 35-mm lens; the flowers were right in front of me. Bright colors stand out on overcast days like that one. Even when it’s not a pretty day, you can always try to find some little angle. Most people wouldn’t think of shooting on a day like that, but if you’re not out there, you’re not going to find the pictures.

This is interesting, because I’d driven by that spot on a previous assignment, and I never gave it another look. This time I passed it one afternoon—the light was flat then—but I thought, you know, in the morning this will probably look pretty good. The next morning the light was beautiful. Light is everything.

I found out it had been a family-run restaurant for a long time, and that was the most interesting aspect. I mean, some of the waiters had been there for 45 years! If I can turn something into a people picture, I will, even if it’s a posed people picture.

That’s right. Even in travel photography, which calls for a lot of landscapes or scenics, I usually get people in there somehow.

Well, a waterfall is much more interesting if you have a person in there for scale. Otherwise you can’t tell how tall the falls are. A figure gives a sense of moment, too.

Approach people with humility and respect, taking time to get involved with them. Then—like the sneaker ad says—just do it!