Bad Rabbit Studio (2025)

14/04/2025

I've just returned from a week in the mountain kingdom of Lesotho, where I had the privilege of documenting the transformative work that IFAD is doing with local sheep farmers.

For six days, I traveled across rugged highlands and remote villages, capturing the stories of resilience, innovation, and hope that are woven - quite literally - into the fabric of Lesotho’s wool industry. I met farmers who wake before dawn and walk for miles in freezing conditions to care for their flocks. People who face limited infrastructure and market access issues with unwavering determination and quiet strength. It was humbling, and it reminded me of the power of storytelling to bridge worlds and amplify voices that too often go unheard.

I'm incredibly grateful to have had the opportunity to help capture these stories - stories of endurance, ingenuity, and community - with a wider audience.

📷: Gaelle Legroux, Linda Odhiambo and Barry Christianson

30/01/2025

I have just wrapped up filming an elephant collaring operation in Matusadona National Park - my first project of 2025. I was documenting the work Matusadona is doing to gather data that will be instrumental in making conservation decisions for the Park and surrounding areas in the years to come. While the final video won't be ready until March (we've still got two more elephants to collar in March), I can't wait to show you the conservation work happening here. Speaking of Matusadona, if you're planning a trip to a National Park, this Park is worth your time. The newly renovated cottages at Tashinga offer fantastic comfort without breaking the bank - think the comforts of home while still feeling connected to the wilderness. It's the perfect base to enjoy spending time in the bush. Next up is back to Harare to eat some fresh veg!

11/01/2025

Jo and I hit the reset button after a pretty crazy year with a 3-week Christmas getaway to Cape Town. The Mother City worked its magic on us with its natural beauty - we spent our days jumping into the ocean for morning swims, hiking Table Mountain's trails, and pushing ourselves at City Rock. And of course, Cape Town's food scene lived up to the hype.

But as amazing as Cape Town was, coming back to Harare felt just right - there's really no place like home. As we kick off 2025, Jo and I kept up our tradition of picking words to guide us through the year. I chose "presence" - something I want to focus on during what's shaping up to be a different kind of year. With no ultra-marathons or big expeditions planned, I'm feeling drawn to just being fully in the moment. There's this feeling that change is coming, but instead of racing toward it, I'm learning to be patient and mindful.

Being back in Zimbabwe has got us fired up about the work ahead. Jo's growing in her role at Matusadona National Park, diving deep into important conservation projects. As for me, I'm working on some exciting projects that have me really pumped about what's coming up. I'll keep you posted as things develop - thanks as always for being part of this journey.

Here's to 2025 - hoping it brings lots of discoveries, meaningful conservation work, and wins we can celebrate together. Wishing you a year filled with just as much fulfilment and joy.

06/12/2024

It has been a while and an update is due.

Life has been a whirlwind of adventures and milestones since my last update here. The past few months have been a blend of professional commitments and personal celebrations that have taken me across some of southern Africa's most amazing landscapes.

My work over the last few months has led me through Zimbabwe and South Africa. I've traveled quite extensively, capturing the wild beauty of Hwange National Park, exploring the thundering majesty of Victoria Falls, documenting pangolins in the rugged landscapes of Matusadona, and discovering the historical richness of Matobo National Park. Each destination offered its own unique experiences - this country is remarkable! One particularly memorable day was spent filming in Mbare, a chaotic but vibrant suburb of Harare, for the Oxford University.

Amidst our work schedule and travels, we've still found time to enjoy trail runs in the hills around our home base just outside of Harare. A highlight has been visiting Mazoe Dam for open water swims. Despite all the assurances that there will not be a croc lumbering up from the deep, it is equal parts terrifying and rejuvenating. In other news, Jo and I reached a personal milestone. After 15 years of ‘dating’, we decided to formalise our commitment with a celebration under some trees and a whole bunch of family and friends. Our wedding was a joyful, relaxed lunch that celebrated not just our union, but the journey we've shared together - and a really great day out!

While these experiences have been incredibly rewarding, they've also been physically and mentally demanding. The constant travel and creative work have left me feeling a little exhausted, with a substantial backlog of editing awaiting my attention. However, the promise of respite is on the horizon so onwards I go! Later this month, Jo and I will pack our bags for Cape Town—a destination that never fails to fill us up in all the best ways. Our holiday plans are simple: sunrise ocean swims, challenging rock climbing sessions, trail runs through the Table Mountain National Park, and, of course, a proper good meal or two.

Thanks for reading and for supporting Bad Rabbit Studio through another year, it is very much appreciated. Have a fantastic festive season. Cape Town, here we come!

20/09/2024

It’s hard to put into words what it felt like to run 100km through the vast, unforgiving desert of Iona National Park this past weekend. Now that it’s behind me, I realise that some things can only be fully understood by living through them—sorry everyone, but no words, especially mine, can truly capture it. That said, I’ll still try to share a few thoughts, even though I know I’m only scratching the surface. This is one of those moments where I really wish Jo still worked at Bad Rabbit—her words could have done this experience the justice it deserves.

First and foremost, I am deeply grateful to African Parks for giving me the chance to be part of something so unique and life-changing. It was more than just a race; it was a rare privilege, and it’s something I’ll carry with me for the rest of my life. Thank you!

A little background: African Parks hosts an annual run in one of the parks they manage. Rangers from each of the 22 parks across Africa that fall under their care take part in the event, with two representatives from each park. The run is also open to African Parks staff who want to push their own boundaries and join the adventure. I was fortunate enough to be invited this year, thanks to Jo’s role with African Parks, and of course, I jumped at the chance.

Running 100km through the desert is exactly as brutal as it sounds. The heat, the endless stretches of sand that make each step feel like a battle, the aching muscles, and the mental endurance required to keep going when every part of you is screaming to stop—it’s a trial. You will suffer, that’s a guarantee. It pushes you to your absolute limits, physically and mentally. So why would anyone sign up for this kind of suffering?

After the race, someone asked me why I would do this, and why I’d spend time and money on something that didn’t sound fun at all. My answer came without hesitation: I work and make money so I can do things like this. For me, that’s 100% true. These experiences are what keep me going. They’re what I want to spend my time, energy, and resources on. The thrill of pushing my limits, of seeing how far I can go, is what drives me. If working and earning didn’t allow me to pursue these kinds of challenges, I wouldn’t bother with either. I’d probably just be wandering around looking for the next meal.

In many ways, running through that desert stripped everything down to the basics. It wasn’t about pace or position, but about grit—just putting one foot in front of the other and not giving up, no matter how tough things got. There’s something pure in that struggle, something that strips away the noise of everyday life and reveals what really matters. Finishing that race felt like unlocking a part of myself I didn’t know was there—a part that could withstand more, endure more, and feel deeper gratitude for simply being able to take the next step.

In summary, being surrounded by Rangers and African Parks staff was incredibly inspiring. Completing the run, pushing through all the pain and difficulties—it was inspiring. Watching others help fellow runners and overcome their own doubts and struggles was equally inspiring. The entire experience was just so inspiring. I’m not sure what else to say, other than that I feel deeply inspired and profoundly grateful.

I apologise if I haven’t captured the experience as well as I’d like—writing isn’t my strong suit—but I hope the images below from the weekend give you a sense of just how incredible it was. In some small way, I hope that someone reading this will feel inspired to pursue their own enormous challenge. I hope they take the plunge, push through the doubts and difficulties, and discover that they’re capable of far more than they ever imagined. I wholeheartedly believe that doing this has made me a better person—not just in terms of strength or endurance, but in how I approach life. It’s made me more appreciative of what I have and what I’m capable of, and I know that anyone else who takes on something similar would experience the same.

It feels like this is more than just a personal achievement—it’s a message I’m meant to pass on. A reminder that, at the end of the day, it’s the challenges we embrace that shape us into who we’re meant to be. If this message can inspire even one person to take on something they’ve been afraid to pursue, then maybe, in some small way, we can make the world a better place—one person, one step, at a time.

17/09/2024

100km run through the desert…. it was certainly Ultra everything. African Parks Ultra in Iona National Park completed ✔️

Buck finished in 19 hours 40mins and Jo finished in 27 hours. It was an unbelievable privilege and experience and will take us a while to unpack. Full blog post to follow in the next few days once we’ve had time to digest the experience… but very grateful and proud.

10/09/2024

Hello tiny tent, we meet again! This week, I've enjoyed the simplicity of wilderness adventure in Matusadona once more - cooking over a fire, bathing in a river, and sharing our tiny tent. When Jo declared "No space" for the blow-up mattress, we surrendered to a night on the hard ground. Yet, as the hyenas' calls filled the night air, we slept surprisingly soundly, the hard ground and tight quarters forgotten. Our trusty old tent and the vast African sky, as always, proved to be a winning combination. Next stop, we're off to Angola this weekend to tackle the African Parks Iona Ultra Trail. We'll keep you posted.

28/06/2024

🌍✨ It's been a whirlwind few weeks 🇿🇼

Now that I'm officially a one-person production team, I can confirm with you that it is not easy and I do face ‘obstacles’ (more on this later), but it's definitely possible for the Bad Rabbit Studio show to go on - I’m managing the workload and honestly I think I'm actually thriving as a one man band. Back on home soil in Zimbabwe after traveling to Angola and South Africa, I have hit the ground running. Over the past few weeks, I’ve collaborated with the Australian Embassy in Zimbabwe, capturing stories of how Australian Aid is bolstering climate change resilience here. It has been interesting and enjoyable work.

OK! back to these ‘obstacles' I mentioned earlier. During my travels with the Aussies I've been reading Ryan Holiday's book, 'The Obstacle Is the Way'. The book basically delves into Stoic philosophy, advocating that obstacles in life aren't barriers to avoid, but rather opportunities for growth, learning, and ultimately achieving true happiness and reaching your fullest potential. I am going to go all in on this philosophy not only here at Bad Rabbit Studio, but also in life generally. So despite the challenges of working solo, I am telling myself that it’s not something that is hindering me but actually it is the opposite, it is growing me and its something for me to embrace and seek out - I do feel that I'm evolving and improving as a filmmaker and storyteller as a result of it. I'm developing a unique skill set - able to execute high-quality Conservation/NGO work in remote, challenging environments across Southern Africa, handling entire projects independently which minimises administrative hassle and costs for clients. Moreover, in the often skeptical rural communities of Southern Africa, I can seamlessly blend in with a small mirrorless camera, getting the job done without unnecessary attention. I don’t think there are many of us out there who have these skills and experience, people who can do an entire project from pre production, to production, to post production as just one individual and do it all to a fairly decent standard. So yes I do suppose I offer something unique and that can only be a good thing for Bad Rabbit Studio right? Who knows but honestly I am going to continue just winging it and seeing where this all goes - when I started Bad Rabbit Studio 10 years ago I had never studied or had any experience whatsoever in the photography/videography service that I was offering - I truly was learning on the job (my apologies to the first 100 or so clients) and I’ve made it this far so why not just keep it up? Let's be honest, everyone from the President of the United States, to me and everyone in-between are all completely winging it and hoping for the best. Thats life!

Right! I have reached a point in this write up where I can’t even remember why I started writing it? Winging it again! I did warn you that my writing would not match Jo’s. Lets just say I wanted to give you and update on Bad Rabbit work and as a bonus I threw in a book recommendation. Thanks to the Australian Embassy for the opportunity.

Chat soon, Buck

28/05/2024

I’d lost Buck in his pea green shirt right at the very start of the run and hoped I might get lucky and see him at the first aid station, stuffing his run vest with the free race nutrition just as I had, like the good and proper Zimbabwean I am. Who lets an opportunity like this go by and not take advantage of all the sweetened/ salty available calories? But, now two hours further into the race (party pace for me thank you very much) and about five hours down altogether, in the middle of yet another climb, with the Craddock Valley, its wines, its prize, fat, fluffy rams, and the last aid station, far off down below, I was ready to empty my run pack pockets, peel of my socks and pack it in.

“What goes up” I was unnecessarily
reminded by the crew of young Afrikaans bros in matching run kit and flash socks, must by the natural order of things, “go down”. This, as we faced yet another muddy, tricky, and rather precarious step over a water course falling into steep nothingness for long as my mind would allow me to imagine. “You just take your time”, a friendly woman, also Afrikaans, also with flash socks, but not with the bros smiled, “last year - right at this place - we saw a man slip and fall all the way down the mountain”. Why, why, why, do I do this? I’m not agile, or fast, or elegant. I am extremely slow on the descent, extra careful with each and every foot placement, and STILL kick a root or chose a loose rock on which to place my future and as yet untarnished full set of teeth. Why? And then I thought of Admire.

About a decade ago, Admire Muzopambwa (Adie Athlete) was asked by his employer if he’d like to join him running in Joburg the mornings before work? Admire, a Zimbabwean trying to make a living far from his home and loved ones - like so many of Zimbabwe’s best and brightest people - said yes he would, thank you. His employer presented a pair of trainers, socks and some kit to run in, and the rest, I hope, will become UTMB history.

At this point in real race time, Admire, a MUT 60km race favourite (just a mere three weeks after his first place podium finish at the 160km Ultra Trail Drakensburg) was just over an hour from the finish line. Unlike me, people like Admire, and fellow country woman Emily Hawgood, don’t scramble on all fours when the going gets a bit tough, or scuttle down, like I was right at that moment, like an upended beetle with limbs staining for purchase on something firm and solid, my sense of self preservation causing a bottle neck of equally gormless humans in this forested gully. No, Admire and Emily are rare. They are the people for which Hoka, this races’ sponsor, wrote the tagline “Fly human, fly”. For a split second or two, between footfalls they do; they fly. Not only do they fly, the grave in which they do makes us believe we might be able to too.

Admire ran the 160kms of the Ultra Trail Drakensburg race in 21 hours and 1 min. He’s fast. I would eventually cross this finish line for the MUT 45kms race in 8 and a half hours, Admire ran 58km on the same mountains in 6 hours 20 mins. He’s fast and he’s obviously a natural talent, but it’s not a given. Admire has worked for this. And he loves it, he genuinely loves it - and you believe him. With his mega watt smile he tells you how much his legs hurt now, how trail running brings him closer to himself, to the big wide world, and how he wants to bring that, that feeling of being able to do something with one’s life to other Zimbabweans who, like him, may have the gift of speed and the necessary dose of grit and hunger, that, with a bit of luck and the right people to help them along, can achieve the miracle of flight too.

So, I suck up the dark thoughts, think of Buck further down the trail and the cold beer and hot shower at its end, and although I am far from flight, I continue to move, one foot in front of the other.

~
Admire is a man on a mission. He came in tied second in the MUT, qualifying for an elite athlete spot in the peak of trail running, the World Cup if you will, the UTMB in Chamonix, France. Zimbabwe, here is a man to get behind and support. Let’s help him get there.

19/05/2024

I have just returned from a week spent camping on an Angolan minefield as part of a project I am shooting for Halo Trust. Now settled in at a guest house in Libito, I have got showered and clean and feel like a new person. The drinks here are refreshing, the air con is cold, the coastal views are nice. The contrast between this and the reality of living in rural Angola this past week have been humbling. Living in a tent, bathing from a bucket, and being absolutely annihilated by mosquitos (Angolan mosquitos are in a league of their own) was a reminder of the luxury I often take for granted back home. While my writing definitely will not match Jo's, I want to attempt to share this insight with you: never underestimate your privilege. It's easy to overlook it amidst life’s routines and performing the daily grind, but it likely surrounds you in abundance. Simple conveniences, like a stocked fridge, clean running water and indoor plumbing are markers of extraordinary privilege. Despite its difficulties, my journey into rural Angola wasn't a bleak one at all; it was enlightening. The people I encountered have a genuine happiness despite facing hardships way beyond their control. Their resilience and satisfaction with life were inspiring. They reminded me to embrace each day with gratitude and to find joy in every moment. Angola, thank you for the reminder to make the most of my opportunities and to appreciate life’s blessings. Thank you for reminding me of how lucky I am and thank you for reminding me that I have an opportunity to use my privilege to contribute positively to the world and to try leave it a better place than I found it - all I have to do is make that choice. How lucky am I.

12/05/2024

The sun was just rising over the last somewhat undeveloped vlei that defines the final approach to Harare’s International Airport. Buck’s kit bag, camera box and tripod slipped along the back seat behind us as we dodged a pot hole. My ten-days’ worth of groceries, camping kit and duffel bag in the back of the cab lurched to the left with the effort.

Moving along eerily-quiet traffic-free roads, we were on route to drop off Buck for the first in what is a slew of Bad Rabbit assignments, first in Angola, and then Bulawayo, Beitbridge, Gonarezhou and, well, by then two months will have passed and who knows where Buck will find himself off to next?

“This is what the roads were like when we were teenagers… easy, quick.” How much has changed since then? Harare is almost indistinguishable from the empty-shelved, police dominated streets of the early 2000s.
“But somethings, like the pot holes remain the same”, I responded just as we pulled into the airport.

I, thanks to PTSD from the 2010s, I did a quick scan for any fluorescently-bibbed, clamp-wielding men, before jumping out of the passenger seat to grab a trolley.

Keeping my eye on a completely disinterested Airports of Zimbabwe staff member, we hug. He goes. I watch, waving, as Buck disappears into the newly finished, very shiny International Departures.

As I drive under the concrete-ribbon of the Independence Archway and into the awaking, albeit Sunday-sleepy City, it hits me: This is where Buck and I part.

For the first time since 2016, Buck will be doing all this forthcoming work alone. It feels a little sad - and I am very envious of the adventure ahead of Buck in the Benguela Province of Angola with the Halo Trust - but like the City that has shaped us, there are new roads to take and new opportunities to explore, and in this chapter of our lives, that means striking it out alone, individually.
Hold onto your Brahmins Billy Mitchell, we’re not separating romantically, just professionally.

I’ve been offered, and have accepted a job with African Parks, working with a phenomenal group of people to rebuild and secure Zimbabwe’s Matusadona National Park. It is a fantastic opportunity and an incredible privilege to do something that’s bigger than myself, working towards safeguarding a precious, precarious wilderness in this beautiful, perplexing country I call home.

Buck and I will keep on exploring together, and will keep on sharing those experiences here (and occasionally on YouTube), but I’ll keep returning to the same remote corner of Mashonaland West while Buck will be zig-zagging all over the continent. I’ll keep writing and Buck will keep making images and film. Bad Rabbit Studio is continuing and we are adapting.

As the greatly overused voice of Alan Watt’s intones on top of an electronic banger while I wait at the Samora Michel lights “the only way you can make sense of change is to plunge into it, and join the dance”. The lights go green, Bagga’s Gevha melodic track starts. I press down on the accelerator in my company car (whoop whoop!) and the road to Matusadona opens before me.

30/04/2024

“Woah!” Buck turned and looked at me with what can only be described as a nervous smile, “We will be running up that tomorrow… and the next day, and the day after that”. A few moans and ‘ouches’, and ‘oh my goodness’s’ followed from our fellow passengers. We were all here to run in the inaugural RunChimanimani race, a three-day mountain trail run in one of Zimbabwe’s least visited, most remote, and in my opinion, most awesome (in the old sense of the word) national parks. I shrank down lower in my seat to try and get a look at the scale of what was looming over us as the car pulled into the Outward Bound entrance. Anxious and more than a little cowed by the size and breadth of the Chimanimani’s, we got out of the car and lifted our eyes up and up and up. The mountain kept rising.
Ryan, the race organiser, grinned at the group of runners who moments before had been chomping down on a dinner of chicken and rice, our knives and forks now suspended above the hot meal, jaws dropped. “Ya, I’ll be at the waterpoint mid climb. You can swear at me if you need to but know there is much worse to come.” Ryan’s index finger traced the upward angle of Day One’s ascent, and kept going up and up. “And then you’ll have a nice long traverse across the plateau, cross the river, climb this little peak, swing down here – watch out for the caution sign, you’d don’t want to fall off the cliff face – and keep going all the way down until you pop out back here. There is a chopper on stand-by, but that’s for emergencies only. If you twist your ankle, strap it up and suck it up. There shouldn’t be any snakes, but keep a look out. The Sweeps will be behind you if you need anything and you can phone me if you run into any trouble. Make sure you’ve got my number saved.” Someone at the back of the room let out a nervous laugh and then the questions began.

Day One, 20kms: Clear skies; a big, long, exhausting climb; a couple of river crossings, a sweet drink and a bite to eat at the Mountain Hut; two spectacular forests on the decent, one thick and deep and full of eerie stillness, the other a Msasa forest draped in Old Man’s Beards swinging in the breeze; a socks and shorts tan. Everyone was home and dry six hours after starting. The afternoon was spent drying shoes, swimming in the world’s best swimming spot and restocking running packs with trail snacks.

Day Two. 30 kms. A spitting wet start and an immediate mossy upward climb, just the medicine for tired legs I’m told; a quick drop onto and across the grassy plateau to check in at the Mountain Hut (thank you to the volunteers from Mountain club Zimbabwe); howling winds, driving rain; a technical navigation of slippery rocks pursuing the Bungwe River’s flow into the Southern Lakes, past white sand beaches and wide deep pools, the impressive monolithic rising mountain carving its easterly course; up a long, gradual grassy slope with dancing, myriad species of grasses, fat, black, hairy caterpillars and calling raptors, past grey towers of rocky skyward reaching fingertips smattered amongst grasslands; finally cow bells and the Banana Grove; a steep climb through thick forest and out of the national park; one last halting run/ hobble / shuffling walk along a descending dirt track under the alternating hot sun and cold clouds and over the finish line.

Day Three. 10 kms. Grey skies, cold rain, slippery mud underfoot. A sharp climb to start, mist swallowing what must have been specular scenery below; up and along and over a peak; a turn and the quick, slippery decent. I, sheepish and sore from the standard undertrained ITB agony, sipped hot tea under the cover of the start tent as wet, mud splattered and surprisingly looser for it, runners crossed the third and final finish line, Rave Anthems of the 90s echoing through the valley, welcoming them home.

There is nothing like the majesty of a big, old spectre of a mountain to remind a human just how much more there is than us and our internal lives. There is nothing like the raw, uncontrolled elements to remind us just how alive we are; and there is nothing more affirming that a weekend with like minded people to remind ourselves that we are not alone.
Buck, to his surprise and great delight took home 2nd overall – well done Buck! The weekend was a great success and we are so grateful for it.

Thank you to all who made this weekend as special as it was. We will certainly be back.

Bad Rabbit Studio