Some Lofoten classics from Moskenesøy island. You could point your camera in every direction, and there’s busloads of photographers who are, and so it’s now time to get off the beaten track …
Shots taken with a variety of Sigma cameras, some on a tripod, some not, all ISO100, all post processed in Lightroom. The shot of Hamnoy is a Lightroom HDR of 4 shots.
The biggest challenge of photography in Lofoten is avoiding the hoards of other photographers, nice enough individually, on mass the devil incarnate! Transported around the islands by a high powered fleet of mini-buses, camera’s primed, they’re ever ready to jump out like shock troops and trample a scene to death. The day before the above shot of Ramberg beach was taken it was snowing as we approached, promising pristine conditions, but pulling into the parking area two mini-vans of shock troops arrived, piled out and immediately trampled the snow; a perfect scene ruined! Later that day on Uttakliev beach I counted 23,734 tripods before becoming bored and walking around the cliffs and away. I understand why people run these tours, and why people come, but part of Lofoten’s (and landscape photography’s) charm is its isolation and these trips will soon ruin it as a destination. It’s Greenland next 🙂
Inspired by finding the 2011 shot of Spurn Point (the subject of the last post), and realising it had been nearly five (eventful) years since I last visited, on Sunday I plugged the Point’s co-ordinates into the Sat Nav, turned on the engine, and headed due East.
Two hours in, and five minutes before it was deemed too dangerous to cross, I was stumbling across the sand, silt and mud of the breach that at high tide turns the Point into Yorkshire’s only island. I was now trapped! … at least for the next hour and a half.
Heading down the three miles to the end of the Point my motivation and inspiration were low, the tide too high, the wind too strong, my patience non-existent; I wished I’d headed up the coast, to Scarborough, or to Robin Hood’s bay, but I was stuck!
Rounding the tip of the Point I watched the boats go past, taking their cargo up the Humber, and then began the slow slog back to the car.
Stopping to take some shots of the old water tower, I noticed the sky taking on a pink tinge, but it did nothing to lift the mood.
But as I marched up the sands, the tide was literally turning, the spit widening, the sky becoming more interesting …
… and the last 30 minutes I found myself, as I often do, lost in the moment.
All good things come to those that wait!
Sigma Quattro DP0 & Sigma Merrill DP3, ISO 100, all using the obligatory tripod, all post processed using SPP and Lightroom.
A couple of weeks ago I bought a drone – the latest big thing – at the camera show in Birmingham. A two hour flight and one hour drive to Bohinj, in Slovenia, later I securely attached the Sigma DP3 Merrill to the drone ship, powered her up, and set her off in the general direction of up. At a height of one thousand metres, avoiding golden eagles and military jets, the crux of the flight, a careful manoeuvre to dock the Sigma with the Mefroto tripod – no point taking a chance with camera shake – and then rotate in 3D space to get into position. One click of the wireless, fly by wire, remote shutter and job done, the only thing left was to get her home safely!
Inspired by the work of Nick Brandt I wandered around Whipsnade Zoo (where my partner, little Polly, was a zoo keeper for the day) in a doomed effort to find angles that would transform Bedfordshire into the Masai Mara.
The Sigma Merrill is not the fastest camera in the world … luckily the animals were equally lazy … but the detail the Foveon sensor captures continues to amaze.
All photos taken with a Sigma Merrill DP3, post-processed using Sigma Photo Pro to generate tiff files and finished off in Lightroom.
The Oxford English Dictionary defines a mountain as: “a natural elevation of the earth surface rising more or less abruptly from the surrounding level and attaining an altitude which, relatively to the adjacent elevation, is impressive or notable”.
At only 360m high and prominence of 35m, Parkhouse Hill doesn’t register on the scale … but if we twist our man made rules, and allow shape, and form, and beauty to count, surely this small hill in the Derbyshire Peak District would be one of the best of the lot!!
This mountain in miniature, and it’s neighbour Chrome Hill, are not listed in any of my guide books and thus remained a secret, hidden from me, until a chance encounter, searching for landscapes to photograph closer to home. Now discovered, I can’t wait to return.