A spontaneous solo walk, on a day at the beach with friends, led to seeing this alien outline silhouetting the arching dunes protecting the village below. It made no sense until I got much closer and grabbed this shot before climbing up to say hi.

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Those three seconds after "and the winner is..." can feel like an eternity when your name is in the running.

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Look out in any direction from Fort Dauphin, Madagascar, and the Indian Ocean will be dotted with hand-carved wooden pirogues. Fishing is a dominant way of life in the city and most fishermen are line-fishing, three to a boat, whatever the weather or sea conditions.

Physically, goalkeeping. Mentally, elsewhere. Yes, his team lost.

Groups of high schoolers unveiled choreographed routines they'd been honing for weeks as National schools day took place across Madagascar. Visiting dignitries and teachers could tip particularly good performances, or vote for the winner.

With our bush taxi broken down and no knowledge of when or if a replacement would arrive, we piled out, with the other long distance commuters, into the small, dusty town of Ankilizato.

Our lack of preference in destination and timing meant only a single hotely was serving food, and its two tables were taken. We retreated to the shelter of a nearby shop that provided seats and refreshments. Sticking out like a sore thumb, we became the curiosity for two kids who remained glued to the street side of our bench wall.

Fishermen and sailing boats retreat for the day, watching the sun do the same.

Ramena's a sleepy harbour village to the east of Diego Suarez, and the popular departure point to sail to la Mer d'Emeraude.

I'd been perched over the edge of the stubby concrete pier, enjoying the unfolding view and decided to jump in the water to get closer to the boats and catch this moment. Swirls of fish, their nestled cover in the sandy floor now blown, darted for new frontiers as I waded over.

Morning light at outdoor maternal meetings was often generous to a photographer there to document.

Bevava beach has a particular dune which is immensely satisfying to climb, dwarfing everything around and just about to tall enough to deserve being called a hill. I've featured it many times in photos as I revisited it a lot. As mentioned elsewhere, the beach is particularly exposed to winds and yet, right behind it is a small village of wooden houses, sheltered beautifully by the enormity of this dune.

Here, a woman has left the village, scaled the dune and strides down the beach-side of it to use water from the ocean.

We had been tipped off by a fabric-focused friend, on a small Betsiliko town that was worth a detour through some rugged backroads if we were in the central highlands and had a 4x4. There, we were told, we would find a womens union, formed to bring back traditional silk weaving that had fallen out of favour.

Intrigued and with decent directions involving broken bridges, we arrived with a parde of kids running alongside the car and pulled up to where we were told the union operated from. Panic. Sprinting. Until word reached us that impromptu arrivals were not the norm and nobody was ready.

Another moment from a maternity meeting. A few mothers gathered to have a community nurse weigh and advice on the health of newborns. These two spent most of the time giggling by the stairs, eavesdropping on the conversations, and ended up making it into the final shots.

I'm usually fine for directions but I got lost finding my way through a labyrinth of small, sandy back lanes, to document a gathering of mothers who were to discuss maternal health matters with an elected community official.

Their patience in waiting the extra ten minutes was enough time to build up a party atmosphere usually found on a night out. And I arrived just in time to be the punchline of each sentence, from the moment I got to the door of the small house, crammed with about fifteen comediennes.

Deserved, for keeping them waiting, and it was all in good fun. The only difficulty was trying to get a moment where everyone was paying attention to something other than me.