The call sheet said 5:30 a.m., which in Saigon means the streets are already half awake and the pho stalls are fully awake. We loaded one motorbike with two tripods, a duffel of clothes and me, which is the standard configuration for a low-budget beach shoot, and pointed it at Vung Tau.
Here is what nobody tells you about riding two hours to a location: you arrive with helmet hair and the best skin of your life, because sea air is cheaper than any facialist. The photographer made me stand next to a wire fence by a field about forty minutes in, because "the light is nice". The light was nice. That frame, taken as a joke while a truck full of dragon fruit rolled past, ended up in the final catalogue edit. The actual beach shots took four more hours. The fence took four minutes. There is a lesson there and I refuse to learn it.
By ten the light went hard and flat and we called it, which meant seafood. If a client is reading this: yes, I will do the sunrise call again. The catalogue sold out the tiered skirt in two weeks, the fence photo is framed in the photographer's hallway, and I still have sand in that duffel bag.
What I learned: pack the film in a cooler bag, agree on the seafood budget before you leave, and never argue with a photographer who says the light is nice at a fence.