The One-Camera, One-Lens Travel Experiment: Was It Worth the Risk?

The idea of traveling with just one camera and one lens wasn’t something I decided on a whim for my most recent trip to Hong Kong. If I am being honest, it was mainly inspired by Leica’s design philosophy, Das Wesentliche, or "the essentials," when I read about it a few months back.

Leica cameras have long embraced minimalism, removing distractions for a pure, intuitive shooting experience. I had always used this as an excuse to justify the hefty cost of owning one, yet I never truly practiced it. When I was planning for this family trip to Hong Kong, it struck me as a perfect opportunity to force myself to walk the talk, especially when I was away from all my camera collections and in the land of street photography. The real test was whether I could truly embrace simplicity, resisting the urge to bring multiple lenses and trusting a single focal length to capture an entire trip. With that in mind, I embarked on this experiment, armed only with one camera and one 28mm equivalent lens, to see if less really could be more. Most importantly, to see if it was worth the risk to bring only one lens to Hong Kong.

Leica cameras are built around minimalism—removing distractions for a pure, intuitive shooting experience. I had always used this as an excuse to justify the hefty cost of owning one, yet I never truly practiced it.

The Logic Behind This Experiment and This Setup

As someone who doesn’t get to travel very often, each trip presents a rare opportunity to shoot in a fresh environment. The idea of traveling and being in an unfamiliar location with just one camera and one lens is nerve-wracking, yet airline weight restrictions screamed to me as the perfect opportunity for this personal experiment. After weighing the risks, I accepted the reality that I would inevitably miss some shots. But that was the point: to streamline my gear, focus on the essentials, and fully embrace the Leica philosophy.

As this entire experiment was me paying homage to Leica's philosophy, it was only logical that I chose a Leica setup. In this case, I chose the Leica CL as the main camera, paired with the Leica 18mm f/2.8 TL—the only Leica camera and the smallest autofocus Leica lens that I currently own. Simplicity was the goal: no cumbersome lens changes, no unnecessary distractions, just me and my camera reacting to the scenes before me, resulting in efficiency in shooting and borderless observation.

The Leica CL’s minimalistic design and small size made the camera the perfect choice, as it was very easy to deploy and carry around. Suffice it to say, you will not find extraneous buttons and switches on the CL that hinder your fluidity in operating the camera. Personally, it was very intuitive for me and my shooting style, as it allowed me to focus entirely on the shoot rather than fiddling with buttons and getting obsessed with the settings. After all, this was the purpose of the entire experiment: to embrace only the essentials.

As for the lens choice, I naturally gravitated toward the Leica 18mm f/2.8 TL not just because it has a Leica badge on it but more likely because it has an approximate 28mm full frame equivalent focal length, which is my favorite focal length for everyday documentary and street shooting. There was another lens I considered that could have potentially worked well with the setup but didn’t go with it in the end. It was the Leica 23mm f/2 TL—an approximate 35mm full frame equivalent focal length—simply because I personally never clicked with it. Personally, 35mm feels neither dramatic enough nor isolating enough. The 28mm, on the other hand, provides a more immersive perspective when used carefully, allowing for dynamic compositions while still maintaining a sense of realism without perspective distortion.

Besides, the Leica 18mm also has a specialized coating on the front element that is designed so it can be used without a lens hood, making it even more compact, less intrusive, and less intimidating if I were to approach a subject with a close-up shot. This was particularly useful in Hong Kong, where people are known for being rather grumpy. The ability to blend in as a passive observer also allowed me to shoot more candidly without influencing the scene, which again perfectly suited my style.

My only complaint about this setup is the camera and lens color. It is pretty bright and does not help at all in making me approach my subject discreetly. If anything, it attracts people’s attention and is often a conversation starter. So, armed with a single camera and lens, I set out to see if the compromise was worth it, despite knowing minimalism in photography has its advantages.

The Execution and Lesson Learned: Shooting With a Fixed Setup

With a family trip being the main priority of this trip, my shooting time was limited. The only way to balance family time and photography was to wake up an hour earlier. Exploring the city before dawn not only gave me uninterrupted shooting time but also revealed a different side of Hong Kong. In my opinion, urban locations have a distinct photographic mood before dawn. If anything, exploring the city in the dark also increases the chances of yielding images that are different and interesting to other audiences, since most of them are unlikely to have been seen.

Therefore, I had no issue exploring it before the sun rose, despite having to deal with its own set of challenges, including jet lag and security concerns. Do be extra vigilant of your surroundings if you are visiting a less safe area. It is surely risky to be in a foreign city early in the morning, but those quiet moments before the city sprang to life allowed me to experience and see the city in a different light (no pun intended). I have been so used to doing this back in my hometown that I sometimes forget life doesn’t begin when the sun comes up.

Other than dealing with shooting time constraints, using this single camera-lens setup also forced me to be more intentional with my compositions throughout my observations during the day. I would even go as far as to say the focal length is perfect for daily documentation, and I had to be at peace with the fact that I was going to miss certain shots, especially those that required a longer focal length. Rather than feeling restricted, toward the end of it, I found this limitation to be liberating as I grew to understand the setup inside and out. I was no longer second-guessing myself about whether I should switch lenses or hoping to get the shot that was out of my reach. The focus was solely on making the best of what I had, and I made the most of it.

The gallery attached below is a small part of the entire series that I shot while keeping the genre fluid. With zero expectations and no list of “must-get shots,” I found myself seeing things through my own eyes with minimal influence, which explains how this entire series is so transparent, reflecting my experience. The result is a series that is messy and cannot be defined with a single definition unless curated. They stand as a timeless collection of vignettes and observations of the repeated, mundane life at that particular moment. Who would know if these activities and buildings will still exist decades from now?

Final Thoughts

The experiment was a success in many ways. I gained a deeper understanding of my all-time favorite setup in terms of the 28mm focal length and perspective compression, how the setup reacts to the surroundings, and—most importantly—how understanding all of this helped me refine my compositions to work within its constraints. The process was immersive, and I enjoyed the freedom of traveling light without being bogged down by gear.

Additionally, I concluded my own hypothesis: if you only have one lens to shoot with, then by all means go with the wider perspective. The main reason being that it is easier to use in a tight environment to create an impression of distance between the photographer and subject. This indirectly translates into the ability to create a sense of involvement and immediacy for the viewers. However, do keep in mind that the wider the lens, the more careful you need to be with leveling and geometric distortion.

But here’s the twist: me being the joker, I did, in fact, bring a second camera body attached to a telephoto lens. Because let’s be honest, how could any photographer—especially one who rarely gets to travel—completely forgo the opportunity to capture shots that might be out of reach just because of a cult experiment? However, the telephoto setup was there for specific purposes at a specific location, and I still approached the trip with a one-camera, one-lens mindset. The primary focus remained on the experiment, and the results spoke for themselves. So, was it worth the risk? Absolutely. But would I ever leave my telephoto lens at home? Perhaps when I’m bored of traveling to the same location.

Would you ever attempt a one-camera, one-lens travel challenge, or do you prefer the flexibility of multiple focal lengths?