In February of 2026, I ran an all-new Wild Nature Photo Travel 14-day workshop for birds in the Andes Mountain range of Colombia. This intensive bird photography workshop ran from February 10th until February 24th, 2026 and took us across a vast region of the Colombian Andes. We began in the city of Cali on the 10th and finished in the city of Medellin on the 24th of February. Like my Pallas Cat of Eastern Mongolia Report, this trip report will be a little different to the norm and includes a number of behind-the-scenes photographs from the field. Due to my heavy travel schedule, I will come back later in the year and update this post with additional still photographs from the trip as time permits.

Colombia is renowned as one of the best countries on earth for birds, boasting more than 1,950 species, which accounts for almost 20% of the world’s total. This remarkable diversity is due to its tropical climate and varied elevation changes thanks to the Andes and its location between the Pacific and Caribbean coasts. Devout birders have long sought out Colombia as a hot birding destination, but it is only in recent years that photographers have started to seriously get in on the action. This was our first workshop in Colombia, but as you will read below, it most definitely will not be our last.

The KM 18 and San Antonio Cloud Forest areas offer an excellent introduction to bird photography in the Colombian Andes and were our first stops. Within an hour of our accommodation, we found some of Colombia’s best bird feeder setups, each with unique perches and various birds. This area of the western Andes boasts well-preserved habitats for those who enjoy photographing in natural environments. At feeder sites, this workshop targeted species such as the endemics Multicoloured Tanager and Colombian Chachalaca, as well as near-endemics like Scrub, Flame-rumped, Golden-naped, Saffron-crowned, and Rufous-throated Tanagers. In terms of hummingbirds, over 20 species frequent the feeders, including Blue-headed Sapphire, Purple-throated Woodstar, Long-tailed Sylph, Black-throated Mango, Green Hermit, Booted Rackettail, and many more. This was intensive bird photography of many incredible species, offering opportunities from wide-angle to super telephoto.

Our workshop then ascended to the central Andean range, visiting the world-renowned Rio Blanco and Tinamu Reserves near Manizales. Here, we had excellent chances for photographing antpittas, tanagers, and hummingbirds at the feeders, along with many other cloud forest and mountain birds.

After further ascending, we focused on species adapted to high elevations in Los Nevados National Park, with the beautiful Nevado del Ruiz as a backdrop. We spent a day at Hacienda EL Bosque, where the stars of the show are Grey-breasted Mountain-Toucan and Crescent-faced Antpitta. We also visited El Color de Mi Reves, one of the newer sites in the area. We then headed to the quaint village of Jardin to experience the Andean Cock-of-the-rock lek, where it is common to have more than ten individuals posing for the cameras. Although it was incredible to see this amazing bird, the photography was difficult in the dark forest.

Our accommodation for this workshop included a range of high-quality resort-style accommodations with either shared or private rooms, depending on participant preference. In general, we avoided large hotels and instead focused on smaller, boutique-style accommodations close to our shooting locations. We had meals either at our accommodation or on location, where breakfast and lunch were often provided.

Over the course of the 14-day workshop, we observed and/or photographed more than 200 species! (Our final total for the trip was a whopping 204!) This was an absolutely fantastic result that exceeded expectations for all participants. With 204 species observed over 14 days, we saw on average 14.57 new species every day or more than one species every waking hour! Prior the trip I had not thought we would crack 150 species so exceeding 200 was a complete surprise. A complete list of species is included below by clicking on the download link.

Many of the locations we visited throughout this workshop were specifically set up for birders and bird photographers with individual local guides who specialised in each location. Feeder stations were set up for Hummingbirds at most of the locations we visited, as well as suitably appointed shooting locations for larger species. We photographed far too many species to list them all in the report one by one, but each presented its own opportunities and challenges. The antpittas, in particular, are a real challenge in the dark jungle forests of Colombia. Other species, such as the hummingbirds, present different opportunities and challenges. I frequently struggled with backgrounds in several locations in the dark forest, but was always able to find an angle that worked for me.

This was an intensive workshop with early starts (often around 5:30am) and full days of photography. We based ourselves in multiple locations in order to give ourselves the best possible opportunities for different species. Over the course of the 14-day workshop, we stayed in four different locations, plus one night at each end of the trip (in Cali and Medellin). The included map below illustrates our main target locations.

In equipment terms, big glass was the order of the trip, and I predominantly shot the RF 600mm f4L IS on the EOS R1; occasionally switching out to the RF 100-300mm f2.8L IS for larger, closer subjects. I did miss my RF 400mm f2.8L IS on several occasions, but the thought of schlepping a third ‘big-white’ through the airports deterred me from packing it. I did use my RF 1.4 TC on several occasions on the 600mm for an effective focal length of 840mm and lamented leaving the RF 2X TC at home for some of the very small, distant birds. I took my Sachtler Carbon tripod and ACE fluid head and used these at every single location to help support the 600mm lens. In hindsight, I would pack the 400mm f2.8L IS in lieu of the 100-300mm f2.8 as I generally have a preference for more (rather than less) telephoto compression.

Other than the small snippet of video above, I shot at 100FPS on the Canon EOS R1; I focused (pardon the pun) entirely on stills for the duration of the workshop. My own personal shot count for the trip was well over 30,000 RAW captures (Canon EOS R1 with pre-capture on High Speed + at 40 FPS!), and culling and editing are going to take quite some time. Many of the participants were well north of my own shot count! Pre-capture proved decisive on this workshop and enabled me to capture images of Hummingbirds that would have otherwise been impossible. Likewise, the auto focus system on the EOS R1 proved up to the task and consistently nailed focus on the fast-moving birds. Just as an aside, I am currently in the market for new CF Express Type B cards V4 – if anyone has a recommendation please let me know.

In terms of additional equipment I did not take with me: I will on the next trip pack both a small silver reflector to throw some additional light on the small hummingbirds in overcast conditions, and a small portable backdrop I can set up for the more difficult forest birds. It is certainly possible to use flash at many locations, but I generally prefer natural light photography. I may pack a small modelling light for the very dark forest birds.

The Andes (which runs the spine of South America) is a significant mountain range by global standards, and during the workshop, we ascended to a maximum altitude of 4125 metres (13,460 feet) in pursuit of the Buffy Helmetcrested Hummingbird (amongst other species). The Buffy Helmetcrested Hummingbird is specialised in high-altitude ecosystems, endemic to Colombia and found only in one very small part of Colombia. These small hummingbirds are characterised by a prominent crest and facial plumes that make them unique and highly sought after by birders (and very photogenic). This was a species I did not personally photograph, but very much enjoyed seeing in the wild as it flitted around the high-altitude flowers and plants.

We also photographed six different species of Antipa, a whopping 41 different Hummingbird species, five species of Woodpecker, Hawks, Kites, and so many more different species over the fourteen days we were in the field. For the full list, please check out the e-bird PDF linked above.

Personally, I most enjoyed the Tanigers, Hummingbirds, Toucans and Wrens. All of which we had multiple opportunities to photograph throughout the trip. The swordbill and Long-Tailed Nymph Hummingbirds proved a favourite amongst all of the group for their incredible bill and tail. In terms of the one that got away, it was for me the aptly-named ‘group’ dubbed ‘Bumblebee Hummingbird’. A tiny Hummingbird about an inch long that had amazing character and reminded me very much of the fat dragon with small wings from the film How to Train Your Dragon. This is a species I will try and capture on the next trip with the 600mm lens and 2x Teleconverter.

Temperatures varied considerably throughout the trip, depending on our location. High in the Andes mountains, temperatures were in the low single digits Celsius on several occasions, necessitating warmer layers and even a hat and gloves on occasion. Whereas lower lying areas saw temperatures in the high 20’s and low 30’s Celsius, where it was light shirts, hats and sunscreen. Although we had some rain on ocassion (as expected in the cloud forest areas) we were never prevented from photographing. In fact, the cloud and mist often added to the experience and photographs. The small raindrops on the Hummingbirds added a wonderful additional element on several occasions. Rain will always draw me out to photograph wildlife. The additional element of water always adds a more evocative and emotive feel to a photograph.

On our last day of travel back to Medellin, we made a wonderful three-hour stop at a small bespoke coffee plantation for a deep dive behind-the-scenes tour on all things coffee. The tour took us from the initial planting and cultivation to the finished product. And of course, an opportunity to pick some berries and an extensive tasting! This was a little added bonus for the group that was thoroughly enjoyed and a wonderful way to wrap up our workshop. On our return to Medellin, we farewelled over dinner before our onward flights the following day.

My sincere thanks to all of the participants who took part in this workshop and who placed their trust and faith in my company, Wild Nature Photo Travel to organise first class logistics and shooting locations. My thanks and heartfelt gratitude also to Jose and John, who provided us with brilliant first-class local guiding and driving throughout our trip – thank you. Jose, in particular, deserves special credit for his seemingly endless knowledge of birds and ability to identify a species even from the vaguest of descriptions. Credit to my partner Susanne Ribberheim for the portrait above.

In February of 2028, I will be offering this workshop again for a small group of just six photographers. This workshop is for passionate and keen photographers who want to undertake a deep immersion in bird photography at one of the best places on earth, with the highest number of species. Full details are on my website at www.jholko.com/workshops. Some places are already spoken for so please do not delay to avoid disappointment.

Travelling on this bird photography workshop to Colombia is about far more than simply adding species to a list. It is about immersing yourself in one of the most biodiverse countries on Earth with purpose, patience, and photographic intent. Colombia is a kaleidoscope of colour and sound, home to an astonishing variety of hummingbirds, tanagers, toucans, antpittas and endemic species found nowhere else. This is a workshop where you will develop your ability to read the light, improve composition, and storytelling. This is about going beyond opportunistic snapshots and moving toward crafting powerful, considered images that truly reflect the vibrancy and intimacy of these birds in their environment. Please contact me for further details.

In late August 2025, I was invited to Spain by my friend Craig from Canon Rumours to try to photograph the rare and endangered Iberian Lynx. When the invitation arrived, despite knowing embarrassingly little about the Iberian Lynx, I did not have to think long. A chance to photograph one of the world’s most endangered cats? I was in.

When I boarded the flight from Stockholm to Madrid, I knew two things: Summer in Spain is brutally hot and that the Iberian Lynx, one of the rarest wild cats on the planet, would prove a serious photographic challenge. As a photographer drawn to clean, monochromatic Polar palettes, the thought of sitting in dusty hides in circa 40 °C heat was not exactly thrilling. Still, the opportunity to capture this rare feline in its mysterious, sun-baked territory outweighed almost every misgiving. I took a deep breath and plunged into the heat….

The heat hit me like a sledgehammer the moment I stepped off the plane in Spain. A visceral wave of silent oppressive heat —immobile, thick and heavy. The summer heat of Spain is a different kind of quiet from the cryogenic Arctic silence I’m so used to. The hides we would use to try and photograph the Iberian Lynx are located roughly two hours’ drive from Madrid, so after picking up a rental car, we made our way through Spanish traffic in the witching hour to our remote countryside hotel. 

On our first visit to the Mediterranean scrubland, we were greeted by a dusty yellow and ochre savanna of golden grasses and parched scrubland. I knew, from the monochromatic environment, that there was fantastic potential to make a great photograph. The ever-present question was whether the Lynx would show itself? These are knife-edge moments for a wildlife photographer. Recognising the potential for a great photograph which fate then fails to deliver is far more painful than failing to ever see the opportunity in the first place.

Once on location in the first hide, I was struck by how the simple palette resonated with me: ochres, muted ambers, and sandy yellow browns. Though far from the polar monotones I love, this warmth held its own poetry. The canvas spoke of simplicity, a pared-back approach to composition focused on form, light, and the delicate tension of a wild cat’s movement in a monochromatic environment.

Over the next several days and nights, I found myself trapped in a hazy, hot loop of the good, the bad, and the ugly:
• The Good: Quiet cool mornings when a Lynx would gently pad into frame mid-stride. I’d catch that ghost-like elegance in the yellow light, the quiet puff of dust beneath its paws, eyes locked on something off-scene. Those frames, where all the elements converged—Lynx, environment, light—are, for me, the essence of pure wildlife photography. These moments don’t just create photos; they are narrative fragments of a moment impossible to stage.
• The Bad: That infernal heat. The hide, far from insulated (and without air-conditioning), became a furnace by midday. My skin glistened with a sheen of sweat; my gear felt hotter than freshly forged steel. I wondered, not for the first time, if my love for Arctic minimalism made me a masochist in deserts. I learned quickly to guard against overheating and to keep water nearby, yet the scent of dust and sun-baked earth permeated everything.
• The Ugly: The waiting (in combination with the heat) was often brutal. For every brief, but sublime encounter, there were hours of nothing. Empty frames. Moments when I thought I’d made a mistake, dragging a heat-stricken body into a setting so foreign. But then, a whispered movement, a ghost emerging from the heat haze and scrub at the edge of the long lens, and all doubts evaporated.

As the heat roiled and baked the landscape into silence. I was dozing in a stupor of dehydration and sweat when I saw a Lynx approaching the watering hole: I lifted the camera as a juvenile Lynx, golden-spotted, ghosted through the frame. Its stride kicked up a whisper of dust, matching the dry hues of the ground. In that split second, everything came alive, and I arrived at my destination.

The animal paused, ears perked, body taut, before pausing to drink. I reviewed the frame on the back of the camera, and felt the familiar – yet rare – click of alignment: subject, environment, dynamics, story. It was that single mid-stride shot that would later feature as my Photograph of the Month for September: the monochromatic palette, the poised motion, the swirl of dust embodying primal drama.   

What struck me most was how much this experience echoed my love for the polar environment, despite being so juxtaposed. In both cases, simplicity reigns. The Iberian landscape, in its parched austerity, offers the same clarity of tone I see in snow: minimal distractions, a palette narrowed, subtle tonal relationships bold yet understated. The Lynx, defined sharply against the sombre background, becomes a living shape, a typographic form in motion.

The muted yellows and browns required that I look for contrast not in colour but in texture and light. The yellow and oranges of the dust, the ridges of dried grasses, the Lynx’s fur catching the slanting sun—these become the tools to create something magical. The challenge was to stay patient and observant, to wait for that perfect convergence. Moments with the Lynx in front of the camera are fleeting and rare. A 5-hour hide session may result in just a few seconds with a Lynx as it passes by, or pauses at the watering hole to drink, or it may result in nothing more than lost sweat and patience in the oppressive heat.

This trip reaffirmed something I often say: that wildlife photography, at its core, is simplicity and emotion. It is about telling a story without clutter—just animal and environment, moment and mood. Here, the Iberian Lynx told its story in pauses, in dust kicking beneath silent paws in the harsh Spanish summer environment. It was not explosive behaviours—but rather subtle, refined, ghostly poetry. Of course, the opportunity for dramatic behaviour is always there, but this requires serendipity, and with just three full days in the hides, the odds were not stacked in our favour to witness or capture dramatic interactions. We came close, one afternoon, when seven Lynx approached the hide simultaneously from the scrub only to have one of them suddenly spook and within a flash all seven vanished into the haze and dust not to be seen again. These are the trials and tribulations of being a wildlife photographer. Sometimes the most potent and evocative shot is snatched from your grasp when you can almost taste it. Yet that’s wildlife photography. Joy and frustration, woven together. And when nature finally offers a glimpse—however fleeting—it feels earned and profound.

I’m grateful I pushed through the summer discomfort. This trip was not just about ticking a species off a list; it was about learning the language of a new landscape, discovering a different form of beauty, and testing myself outside my comfort zone. It was also about determining the best time to visit and how the experience could be improved for future visits and workshops. The primary reason I have consistently advocated for scouting trips like this is to identify potential problems or issues and resolve them before an organised trip.

Encountering and photographing the Iberian Lynx has left an imprint. It’s a reminder that wildlife photography is both about what you endure—and what you learn to see. In the dust we often call ugly, there lies possibility. In the patience we endure, there lies a reward.

To those who ask if I’d sit in a hide at 40 °C for these photos: yes—because when that Lynx steps into frame, all the heat, all the waiting, all the effort fades. What remains is the photograph, and afterwards, the memory it carries. We also have to remind ourselves that it is the journey that matters and that the destination only arrives when the hard work is accomplished.

Will I return to Spain? The answer is ‘Yes’ – but on very different terms. Or, better said, on terms I can dictate and where I can ensure the right experience for all. If you have listened to my recent podcast (number 130) on this experience, then you already know the issues I had with this particular trip. However, I have been discussing and working through these problems in detail with the owners, and we are planning to run a future trip where we (Wild Nature Photo Travel) will take over the entire hides for a period of five days in December. This time of year is renowned for having the most Lynx activity, as the young Lynx are being kicked out by their parents. Additionally, the Lynx are in their thicker winter coat and at their most photogenic. Perhaps best of all, temperatures are far more temperate. With a complete takeover of the hides on the cards for a completely private experience, we know we can offer the best possible experience. We will have more details soon (and you can reach out if you wish to pre-register). Until then, the experience and memory of Spain serves as a not-so-gentle reminder that sometimes we need to suffer for art – so that our art can suffer for us.

A few days ago, I received exactly this question via email: ‘What, in your opinion, Josh, is the best workshop for Mammals that doesn’t necessitate a boat? I get tragically sea sick when I even look at the ocean and can’t even entertain the idea of getting on any boat. I know it’s a stupid fear, but I can’t join anything that needs a boat or ship.’ Before we get to my answer, I did seek the author’s permission to write about this, which they kindly agreed to:

With apologies to the author for my brief chuckle at their thalassophobia, I did not have to stop and think about this for very long. My immediate answer is the Arctic Fox workshop we offer in Iceland in Winter. However, this requires a boat ride (albeit a very short one) and thus takes this workshop out of contention. I realised on a second reading that the question also contained the plural of the word ‘mammal’, and that changes the game further. For others, my answer remains the same, though. If you are happy to target one species specifically and put all your effort and focus (pardon the pun) on that critter, then the Arctic Fox workshop in Hornstrandir Nature Reserve is unmatched for encounters that will leave you breathless and your memory cards full.

However, if you can’t even look at the ocean without getting nauseous and want the opportunity to photograph multiple large carnivore mammals in a stunning Autumn setting, then the Wolves and Bears of Finland are equally unmatched. This is a workshop that will see you depart with memory cards full of keeper images of Wolves and Bears, an ear-to-ear grin and a vastly more profound understanding of wildlife photography. I still hold to this day that Finland (along with Mongolia) is one of the most underrated destinations on earth for wildlife. From the private hides we use, it is common to see and photograph Wild Wolves, Brown Bears and Wolverine – all close up and not at a significant distance. While many hold Yellowstone in the USA as the mecca for Wolves, I can assure you from much first-hand experience that it isn’t a patch on Finland’s offering of these incredible canines.

Northern Finland is the only location I have ever photographed Wolves from, where I came away from a single week-long trip with enough photographs for an entire book – Never Cry Wolf (and yes, I have been to Yellowstone and photographed Wolves there). This is not an isolated incident. Every autumn visit has yielded both incredible opportunities and powerful photographs. In addition to the mammals in Finland, we often photograph both White-tailed and Golden Eagles – all from the exact location. There is also a plethora of smaller forest birds, including such species as the Crested Tit and the Great Spotted Woodpecker. I have even photographed the European Pygmy owl in this region. You can check out the full portfolio for Finland HERE. And, It isn’t just the photography that makes this Finland workshop so special. It is a combination of the ease of access (there is minimal walking required as we drive to the hides – the walk is less than 100m), the homely and cozy log cabin we use as a base and the incredible surroundings of the Boreal forest. Not to mention the breathtaking landscapes around the many lakes in this location. This is a workshop that invites and offers the photographer the opportunity to deep dive into their mammal photography in a location unmatched anywhere on earth, in my experience. Capturing a stunning portfolio is only the beginning. Expect to come away with not only powerful and evocative images, but a deeper appreciation of Nature and a better understanding of what it takes to create emotive images.

It is for these many reasons that I have engaged my friend Chris from White Space Films for the second time in the same year to join us this September to make a short film about what it is like to photograph wild Wolves (along with the Brown Bears) in this part of Finland. We start shooting next month and hope to wrap our field shooting toward the end of September with a release of the film before Christmas. Our September workshop this year is long sold out – but we have now opened bookings for our August 2026 Workshop. Details are online HERE. Please get in touch with us if you would like the opportunity to photograph these apex predators in a stunning Autumn setting.

I can hear the question now – What about Winter in Finland? Yes, Winter is possible, and the snow-covered ground and frozen Taiga forest, in combination with the low angle of the sun, can serve as the perfect winter setting and backdrop. This combination alone has fueled my creative imagination and lured me back for repeat Winter visits. However, this time of the year, the bears are hibernating and the wolves are notoriously difficult to see and photograph during the short daylight hours – preferring to visit the hides at night under the cloak of darkness. Over the years, I have tried on several occasions to photograph Wolves in the depths of winter (December / January) in Finland with little to no success. I have seen their tracks and heard their howls on the wind, but that magical image of a wolf softly padding through deep, fresh snow against a frozen forest wall under golden winter light has eluded me to date. Whilst the allure of a soft white canvas, illuminated by winter’s glow, continues to draw me back, it is essential to temper expectations that a winter trip for Wolves can be an exercise in frustration. It is not uncommon to enter the hides at first light, surrounded by recent wolf tracks in deep, fresh snow, only to watch the short golden hours tick past before darkness again envelopes the Boreal forest – without so much as a Raven for company to pass the time.

Autumn, on the other hand, offers not only an explosion of fiery forest colour, but the chance to photograph these predators in the first snows of winter. On several Autumn trips, we have been blessed with snow, and all of the images in the Finland Winter Portfolio HERE of Wolves were made at this time. Autumn is brief this far north in Finland, and the seasonal line is frequently blurred between Autumn and Winter, providing opportunities to photograph in snow when the weather turns toward Winter.

If you are a frequent traveller to this Scandinavian part of the world and looking to expand your portfolio, then you may wish to roll the dice and try in Winter. We will be offering a future Winter trip to Finland to try for Wolves again, but recommend this only to those frequent travellers willing to invest the time and effort, and who understand that failure is a distinct possibility. If it is your first visit (or even second or third) to Finland for Wolves and Bears, then I strongly recommend Autumn as the perfect time to visit for all those reasons listed above. Of course, nothing is guaranteed in Wildlife photography, but you do significantly stack the deck in your favour for both sightings and photographs at this time of the year.

Regardless of when you choose to travel to Finland, the experience of photographing Wolves in the Boreal Taiga forest remains one of the most underrated and rewarding experiences a wildlife photographer can have. There is something very primal about Wolves, and the eerie, haunting echoes of their howls stay with you long after you leave their forest home. This is a workshop I wholeheartedly recommend to anyone wanting to photograph mammals (and specifically carnivores) who doesn’t want to get on a boat. And even those who will happily embark on an ocean-going vessel for their next photograph will find this an experience not to be missed.