Over the past many months, with much of the world indoors, in an uncertain isolation, the grandeur of life and nature could only be reached in our imagination; in our memory, accessed through images on our walls and screens. Photography has always been our great portal to distant lands, the simplest method of imaginary transport, but, in the time of the pandemic, it is now much more valuable to the travellers among us. In order to celebrate the power of these images – as well as, perhaps, add some new dream material for the memory banks – we asked some of our favourite wanderer-photographers to share an image that they have been returning to in their downtime, a capture of a moment that continues to carry them away.

“Üüreg Lake is a beautiful oasis in the remote western part of Mongolia. A very randomly visited area; it’s difficult to access and until recently the only option to stay was to pitch a tent. This lake is the very first area I visited after the Mongolian capital Ulaanbaatar, when I started to work on my Mongolia book project in 2001. I stayed there for about two weeks, making friends with herders and their families living around the lake. I have been back many times over the years, visiting my friends there, following and documenting their lives. It remains my favourite place to visit in Mongolia for its beauty, immensity and calm. I look forward to going back as soon as possible when all is back to normal.”

“These images encapsulate the feeling of riding on the Shinkansen from Tokyo to Kyoto when, passing Mount Fuji, instantly you start feeling a change of scenery and the culture suddenly becomes more traditional once you come out of the train. You find yourself looking at a very different and fascinating side of Japan, a place where women are dressed in traditional kimonos and people gather around temples and spiritual statues. Time stops and you feel like you are part of an old movie, where heritage and nature are the most valuable.”

“I often think back to the 7.00am starts in Udaipur, overlooking the calm waters of Lake Pichola with a gentle touch of the warm breeze and sweet sounds of birds singing. I visited Udaipur during a chaotic time in my life, but being there helped to clear my mind and centre me, so now when home life gets a little overwhelming, I think back to this moment and all is well again.”

“One of the things I really love in photography is when events conspire to put you in the right place at the right time; it always feels like a gift. In 2016, my wife and I flew to New Delhi. We landed, went to the hotel and quickly left to get something to eat. The restaurant we were going to was on the other side of the Deer Park so we decided to walk through it. As we were walking along, my wife saw a baby monkey sitting on a fence. The baby monkey screamed and all of a sudden I felt a tremendous pressure on my left calf – the baby’s mum was biting my leg. The next day, after the first of five rabies shots, we decided to walk around the park to eat; on the way I saw this amazing moving multicoloured circle. I ran across the traffic, just in time to see this bicycle laden with what seemed like a million balls parked on the street. A gift well worth getting bitten for!”

“I had just finished photographing two new friends in central Dakar when the skies opened up; the fresh rain saturated the ground as we packed ourselves back into the car. The windshield of the car became a canvas of watercolour brush strokes. I reached for my phone to take a photo before Francine (our friend) started the car to wipe away the ephemeral composition. The two women in the photograph emerged into the scene with their brightly coloured garments that just enhanced the special quality of that moment in time. A moment later the women and water droplets on the car were gone.”

“I miss India. The vibrant colours, crowded streets, untouched landscapes and unique culture make it one of my favourite places to photograph. In fact, up until my first trip to India, I mainly shot landscapes. But I found the people there to be so interesting and open to having their portraits taken, the in-between moments of their daily lives, the ones you cannot plan for or anticipate; they have become my favourite images. This photo was taken during Kumbh Mela on our way out to the river early one morning. These were the two gentlemen that rowed us out to sea.”

“I love Egypt, all of it, and have been lucky to see it with expert enthusiasts of everything Egyptian, but to me nothing is as exciting and wonderful than visiting medieval Islamic Cairo – and the mosque of Ibn Tulun is one of its highlights. Ibn Tulun is Africa’s oldest mosque existing in its original design. It dates back to 876 AD, when it was designed by a Christian architect for Ahmad ibn Tulun, the governor of Egypt. It’s built on a small hill where, a local legend says, Noah’s Ark came to rest. The first time we went it was empty, and I had it all to myself for what seemed hours. I love how its buildings are both stark and sensuous and how they replicate the colours of the desert. It is an oasis of calm in the middle of the city. Cairo is one of my favourite cities; so rich in ancient history, so vibrant with today’s hectic pace. There is so much to see.”

“We drove for hours on what felt like the world’s bumpiest dirt road. Climbing up and down and bouncing around complaining like children – “Are we there yet?” Eyes glued to the window, tracing incredible vistas and hillsides partitioned with hand-built stone walls. Locking eyes with an occasional sheep densely matted with fur, grazing on dry grasses. We were going to spend the day on our friend Dimitri’s land, at a small house on the hillside with views of Tinos in the distance. The home has a rich history that includes sheltering Italians during WWII, their initials still carved on the table we were about to dine upon. When we arrived, our friend Allegra dove into the brisk fresh waters and came back with an arm full of sea urchins. We snacked on fresh uni with lemon in our bathing suits, sitting on the warm rocks. When lunch was ready, we climbed the hill to find a beautiful table set of salads, spreads, olives and local cheese made by our English friend Letitia. A local radio station played bouzouki music in the background as we sipped Dimitri’s homemade wine – it was slightly too warm and resembled marsala. The day was perfect.”

“Among the countless things prohibited during quarantine, one of the things I miss the most is wandering around freely with my camera – especially in places like Sicily, where I took this picture a couple of years ago. I was on an assignment for a travel magazine and, while photographing a monastery in the centre of Catania, I hit it off with a wisecracking philosophy student named Daniele, who offered to show me his favourite spots. Pretty soon I was on the back of his scooter, zigzagging up the coast toward the beach town of Aci Trezza, where the harbour is dotted with spiky lava rocks – remnants of an ancient eruption of Mount Etna, which was visibly smouldering that afternoon, a few miles inland. (I only found out later that these huge black stones are allegedly the ones that the Cyclops threw at Odysseus, as recounted by Homer.) Pretty much everything Daniele and I did that day – the beach lounging, the bar-hopping, the local horse-steak sampling, even the scooter sharing – instantly became forbidden in March, when Italy began its lockdown. As of mid-June, Catania’s granita stands and gory fish market are starting to lure Europeans again, but travellers from the US are still not allowed.”

“The Faroe Islands left an impression on me that is hard to shake. I think the key component is that during this time of deep reflection, I have been considering what it means to live in an isolated community for hundreds, if not thousands of years. A lot of us now more than ever are realising how resilient humans are and can be, as we see these attributes in ourselves. The Faroes come to mind as the residents were the most isolated and resilient groups of people I have ever seen. Exploring these 14 jagged islands that were often connected by one lane road, bridge, tunnel, boat or helicopter, made me realise how happy you can really be when you are connected to nature in an environment that inspires you. I guess that is a goal I have been seeking more and more in my life. These images were shot during a two-week trip exploring the islands for its surf potential, but what we left with was a greater appreciation for the raw and wild places on the earth.”

“After decades of travelling, and literally millions of picture frames, I’m on pause. In a world so confused, so heartbroken, so full of fear and uncertainty, I find my memories to be all I have at times. Some are loaded with passion, surfing on adrenaline, the raw, the new, the young. Today, I find myself drifting to the comforting, solid, authentic beauty of another love, Ireland. Though I have never lived in Ireland, I most definitely have a special relationship with it. My first editorial travel assignment, given to me by the gifted and trusting Jennifer Laski, the then-photo editor of Departures magazine, was in the wilds of Connemara. I had ridden a bicycle across the country some 10 years earlier, and had now found my way back. I wish we could wake up there tomorrow. If not tomorrow, then soon, I know Ireland will still be there for me.”