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Back from a very nice mid October Break from work on a family trip to Northumberland. Being land locked in the middle of the country, I enjoy a break by the seaside and the change of scenery. The only difference being these days that there aren't as many sand castles. Which, being in Northumberland, seemed to be the only type of castle that I didn't actually see. Wake up in the morning - castle. Drive a few miles - castle. Go for a walk - castle. Try to invade another village - castle.

It quickly become apparent that village/castle invading would have to wait until we got around to building the Trebuchet and, as we only had a week, cooking the tea would have to take priority. Plus, space in the car made it hard to carry around the necessary equipment for a long siege. Remember, we were only there for a week. Probably not enough time to starve the castle into submission. No wonder then there are still so many of them around these days.

Of the ones that we did see in non-siege tourist type of capacity, my favourites were Bamburgh Castle, Holy Island Castle and Dunstanburgh Castle. All firmly on a photographers to do list for good reasons. Our base in Warkworth (within view of, you've guessed it, Warkworth Castle) was a good location for this part of the coast and I'd happily stay there again. We went to Alnwick Castle for a tour of all the people dressed as Harry Potter characters. This was made slightly harder by not ever having seen a Harry Potter film. We decided that this must have been anyone who had on some sort of smock. And a hat.
They had a nice talk on medieval armour. My dads favourite helmet was the basinet. My favourite was the maisonette - similar to the basinet, but two up two down.

We also had a trip to Hadrians Wall which was good although, being some 4ft high, I was surprised just how much smaller Scotsman must have been in those days. Presumably, this made the construction of the wall easier but it must have been harder to spot the Scots sneaking up in the long grass.

I was very impressed with Vindolanda Roman Fort and their excellent museum of Roman artefacts. Ground conditions have preserved a vast array of goods and objects of all types - from leather shoes, jewellery, tools, glasses and pottery to the preserved tablets of Roman correspondence detailing all aspects of everyday Roman life. Truly amazing to see the words written in the 1st and 2nd Century AD.

In 2000 years from now I wonder what future archaeologists will make of life today when the find a hard drive full of dancing tiktok cats and You've Been Framed videos. They will probably think its has high class religious status which seem to be the norm when archaeologists have to guess at things.

Anyway, he's a few of the photos from the trip. There may be some castles.


Dunstanburgh Castle - high tide during the afternoon


Holy Island Castle reflected in a rock pool


Pre-dawn on the coast at Craster


Sunset at Low Hauxley


Roughting Linn


High tide at Bamburgh Castle


Sunrise at Dunstanburgh - standing in the sea as usual


Bridges over the River Tyne

Anyone remember snow? White and wet, like a fluffy duvet in the bath. Then brown and wet, like an unwashed duvet in a students room.

Remember the joys of snow - like taking three hours to do a 15 minute drive home assuming you don't have to abandon the car two miles from your house? In Sheffield, the very first flake of snow causes mass hysteria and blind panic to set in as everyone cleverly leaves work at exactly the same time to avoid the traffic (remember having an office to leave?). Everyone that is except council gritting crews. Its official that 1.3mm of snow will cause approximately 5.25 miles of traffic queues within the Sheffield boundary.

I do like snow - it makes for very picturesque landscape scenes - I just hate driving in it. For some reason all the 1970s sci-fi programmes have got it wrong and we still don't have even the most simple basic tech like hover boards or teleporters which would make travelling to take nice wintry scenes so much easier. How on earth do they manage in cold places like Canada or Iceland. Maybe its that they don't have UK Gritting Operations.

So we haven't had snow for a while really so I thought I'd share what passes for winter over the past few years. A bit of frost is what we get if we're lucky, I guess.

This is up on Stanage Edge taking the well known millstones as the subject. I like to arrive well before sunrise when I think the best chance for beautiful colours occurs and here I thought I stay around to see the light appearing as the sun rose higher. The tone and the feel of each shot tells the tale of how nature can provide us with ever changing dynamics where no two days are the same or indeed no two minutes are the same.


About 20 minutes before sunrise taken low down with my wide angle 14mm lens


Sunrise and a change to my 16mm lens which gives better defined starburts


About 20 minutes after sunrise and a step back or two to take in more the the landscape sround the millstones

Every landscape photographer keeps one eye on the weather outside the window, knows the times of sunrise at sunset and keeps a handful of apps on their phones that help predict the cloud cover and the direction of the sun. Every landscape photographer curses the professional forecasters after an hours drive at 4am to a non existent sunrise. Many is the time I've had to stop looking out of the window as a fantastic sunset develops and I'm still stuck at work. The Peak District often taunts us with the single band of cloud at the horizon to obscure the sun as it sets. So sunsets are tricky and the weather often goes against us.

One weather pattern I do like is an intense rainstorm which clears just before sunset. This seems to generate great light as the storm somehow freshens up the atmosphere. To boot, it can create a great contrast between dark lingering storm clouds in one direction and superb bright warm light in the other direction. I love that combination.

So a last minute dash out with my camera was in order when Friday night beers were cancelled and mother nature looked like it would conjure up something special after an afternoon of thunder on a hot summers day. I knew that I couldn't risk driving to far and miss any potential but I have a back up set of trees for just such occasions. Everyone needs a set of back up trees.

The last minute decision proved a good one, and the sunset sky which unfolded was a sight to behold. The set of photos below shows the changes to both the fantastic cloud patterns and the colours that appeared just over one 15 minute period starting at sunset, 9pm, and then as the deeper blue of the sky as the night sky took over.


Sunset and the orange clouds start appearing

The clouds pattern break out and the colours deepen

The sky was so full that a vertical shot is in order

I moved location slightly and waited 5 mins for the blues to take over

Finally, I changed to a long lens to isolate a single tree in the afterglow

Lockdown - you must stay in but you may go out as often as you like to excercise. But no shops are open except the ones who's decided on their own to open. You may play football but only with your own family. Try to give Gran a turn out of goal.

Be Alert. Stay in, never go out. I know we said say stay in but you must get to work if you can't stay in. But don't use a bus.

I gave up. I had a party. No-one arrived by bus.

Do the little things in life pass you by?
If I'm honest, the big things in life seem to pass me by as well but lets concentrate on the small ones for the moment.

Lockdown - stay at home - only go out for essential supplies of crisps and wine. Never say boo to a goose and never put jam on a badger. Did we mention stay at home.
I decided to stay at home.

So the small things. What could our housebound photographer do during lockdown?
Inspired by the helpful guides in the broadsheets and online I sought inspiration. The Times published a helpful guide to 25 species of butterflies I could see in my garden. I looked out the window of my small terraced house wondering whether the 5m of paving slabs had miraculously become a haven for all the myriad of wonderful plants and butterflies the Times told me to expect. It hadn't.

Bird watching - another handy guide to the wonderful types of birds I could see flocking into my yard, sorry 'garden'. In the authors world everyone's garden extended far into the green and rolling fields beyond, not back to the old brick outhouse which I hadn't got around to demolishing yet. I looked to check if the five pigeons that sat and smoked crack on the roof over the road were still there. They were. I suspected that they were finding it harder to find hard drugs these days.

The only bird I have seen in my yard back in the day was, bizarrely a sparrowhawk. The most effective sparrowhawk in the world by the looks of things as it appeared to have destroyed all bird life. Expect pigeons.

So having given up useful garden guides then what could I do?

I do have some bushes in my yard which haven't been trimmed for a while (ooer Mrs lol).
Checking the useful Times guide for the type of bushes, which I had decided looked sort of green and leafy, drew a blank (the guide, pedantically, seemed to want more details) but it got me thinking - the World of Macro Photography. Back to the small things.

The Bank Holiday must have slipped off the God of Weather radar. Staying indoors and nursing his supply of wine and crisps, whilst watching Tiger King on Netflix, had momentarily distracted him and he'd forgotten to make the Bank Holiday weather crap. So I'd give it a go.

Here are the results. So lets all take time to enjoy the small things in life when we can.


Snail shell - there was an unfortunate end to that subject though


Dandelion taken into the sky


Spider alert


Very impressed with the evil mouth and I only noticed what it was hunting after I took the shot


Ladybirds - everyone loves ladybirds

Tenerife: 'Tenareef' or 'Tenor ReeFay'? - clearly Tenareef I would say, literally as it were.
You don't say 'the old trouble and stryFay is in the kitchen'. Not many people say that these days anyway. Haven't listen to any rap but I'm sure they don't use that phrase. Maybe garage rappers do, if the wife is in the garage (I'm out on a limb here not knowing exactly why garages are an integral part of some rapping).

I digress - so I've been back nearly a week now from a workshop in Tenerife. Given the Covid-19 virus issues I diligently kept an eye on the Government advice on travel. I assumed Boris was awake and paying attention. Not having the worlds best sense of direction or ability to remember where places are, I was pretty sure that Tenerife wasn't in China or Iran and so wasn't on the Foreign Office list of places to avoid. All system go I thought. Its in Spain - what could go wrong.

Arrived in Tenerife no problem but dressed like an Englishman abroad. Well, jeans and a jumper which is always the problem. Do you go dressed for UK weather when you leave or Spanish weather when you arrive. In my opinion, men should only ever wear flip flops reluctantly on the beach and never as normal footwear. Young chaps with a penchant for flip flops in the centre of Sheffield might as well just be walking around with underpants on their heads and their arses painted purple as far as I'm concerned. A sturdy pair of trainers will always suffice. So arrival day was Wednesday.

Winding Tenerife hairpin bends took their toll in the back of the almost unairconditioned van and I felt a tad queasy for most of Thursday. Friday I felt better. More air and sat middle of the van. I assume its like being on a boat where either end rocks around more. Unlike being on a ship there are no opportunities for deck quoits in a van. Disappointingly short on space.

That brought us to Saturday when things were beginning to look more serious. Football was cancelled and Boris had woken up and decided that if we all huddled together to catch a bit of the old virus then we'd all be fine. After all, we left Europe so lets do exactly the opposite of what those Johnny Foreigners think is a good idea.

Spain meanwhile had decided to begin a lockdown which, thanks to mobile phones, our intrepid band of photographers had noticed. So Plan A - go to La Palma on a ferry with no guarantee of getting back off the island or Plan B - get out, go home on the next available flight. After a long debate of several seconds we decided to book a new flight home. So again thanks to mobile phones, sitting in a van in a Spanish car park (having moved the deck quoits to one side) I managed to book a BA Club Class trip back to Heathrow via Madrid. Club Class was cheaper than economy by the way. Although when it comes to crisis travel I like to have a free lunch thrown in.
Only problem being that my car was at Gatwick.

Heading off to Tenerife airport after a leisurely morning spent setting fire to trees with twirling wire wool (ok - no woods were damaged) we set off for the airport. Again due to my canny survival instinct having bought a Club class ticket we didn't have any problems with queuing. The Club lounge was full and, although I asked, they did not in fact know who I was, so we didn't get in. After an hour delay, we headed off to Madrid.

Madrid. That was different. Lots more closed shops and officials barking instructions. Stand 1m apart. Get a hair cut etc.

This time the Club lounge was a visible but we had to get past security. As Security didn't speak English, with a bit of shoulder shrugging and pointing we mutually agreed we could take our chances by heading past his zone of responsibility and made it to the lounge. A very nice lounge it was to. I think they could tell I wasn't a regular Club Class passenger but I styled it out well with a single doffing of my cap as all Businessmen probably do.

We sat on the tarmac and were informed the towing tractor has become stuck to the plane. That got fixed. I assume a hammer was involved. We set off to the runway. We came back from the runway. Hitting it with a hammer had set off a warning light of in the cockpit. Engineers were called to turn off the main switch and turn it back on again. The warning light was off - we were go for launch. 4 hours late but hey that was ok.

So I made it back. The moral of the story. The strain in Spain ends mainly on a plane.

What's the best way to spend Xmas? Argue at the in-laws. Visit the panto? Oh no its isn't, I decided to myself.

The idea of another enforced week off work, when the weather is short dark days with no frost, no snow, rain and generally nothing to make a winter break actually wintry, has become increasingly unappetising.

My idea to relocate Xmas to June or July when the weather is decent (probably decent) hasn't really taken off. Given this was generally a campaign of me half heartedly grumbling to mum and dad whenever Xmas was mentioned, I had little hope the government would listen.

So I decided if the mountain wouldn't move then I'd to move the man to the mountain. Literally, given some of the scenery in Fuerteventura. What we needed, I thought, was a good old family get away to the sun.

I couldn't recall the last trip away with the folks. The memory that came back to me was burying my sister in the sand using a metal spade, in the days before plastic was invented. Given this entailed digging out my unfortunate sister out with an implement that, on the face of it, is a metal bladed axe in the hands of a 12 year old, you can imagine the predicable consequence. Luckily the family agreed to a trip away. My sister, on the proviso that I only use a plastic spade.

We headed out to Fuerteventura on Xmas Eve and for the first time in ages I was actually looking forward to the Xmas period. I'd checked out a few photos locations but, for the first holiday in ages, this was just a package trip with the agenda to just chill and relax.

We stayed at the north end of the island, in Corralejo, at a resort on the northern edge of the town. Really enjoyed it - close enough to walk to the centre, far enough for some peace of quiet. Xmas dinner was at the Tantaluna restaurant, which up until Xmas eve I'd been calling the Tarentula. The meal and the atmosphere was excellent. Despite the lack of any spider related flourishes which I'd been looking forward to seeing.
No Xmas day cooking pressures, no EastEnders omnibus, no tidying up. Absolutely brill.

After an early scare that the whole island had run out of hire cars we managed to find the last car that Hertz had. I like to think it was the last car. Makes the trawling about seem even more worth it. Driving honours went to my sister. On the one occasion I drove, at 7am in the dark, it became clear to me that my driving skills are to far to deeply ingrained in left hand drives. Nice to have extras like indicating, using mirrors and changing gear all became secondary to important things like steering and braking. In moments of panic, trying to change gear with my left hand meant grabbing the door handle and don't start me on that stupid electronic handbrake button thing. My dad's not the greatest passenger either. We had to agree that he would be scared on the inside and not act as thought he felt every give way line was in-fact the edge of a 50ft cliff that I hadn't seen.

Fuerteventura was great - the weather was my favourite 22 degrees. Nice and warm but easy to get out and about in. Shorts and t-shirts which is great as I wasn't looking forward to inflicting my beer gut on the world, should the heat mean that a t-shirt removal was in order. Luckily for other holiday makers this wasn't needed.

I was very pleasantly surprised at the landscape and the scenery. Very interesting and varied. One minute dark volcanic rocky beaches, the next moment white sand dunes. Drive a bit further and you're up in the hills with some great views.

All in all, I can recommend getting away from things at Xmas. Give it a go. You'll not regret it.


Holiday pool time, Corralejo


Xmas day sunrise, Corralejo


Xmas dinner. Ok, its not - just a local cactus


El Cotillo on the west coast of Fuertaventura


El Cotillo


Faro del Toston disused lighthouse


The expanse of sand dunes of the Parque Natural de Correjo


Tindaya mountain with the extra elevation using my drone

The thrill of the unknown - life in the wild – untamed nature at its most daunting. One man with just a bagful of enthusiasm and another bagful of crisps. I saddled up (not literally) and set off to Hit the Trail - Ingleton Waterfalls Trail.

What would this adventure demand from me, what would I find out about my inner Bear Grylls, what, ultimately, would this trip to uncharted wilderness cost me? I soon found out. £7 for parking.

I arrived. Without pausing to consider the chances of not returning, I pulled over. Slowly and deliberately I edged alongside the parking attendant. I could see the look a respect in his eye. He knew what I was up against. Man against mountain. Without prompting he let me have it – 'its 16 waterfalls and 1000 steps' he said without flinching. He knew I could take it.

Hahh thought I - '1000 steps – that's nothing'. He didn't know it, but I'd walked 5000 steps to work only last week. Then the true horror dawned. He meant 1000 flights of steps. Upwards and downwards. He didn't specify the ratio of Upwards to Downwards. I assumed the worst.

I had a difficult decision to make. Should I leave the cheese and onion behind?

My training kicked in. I decided swiftly. I knew Mother Nature could damn the unwary and the unprepared. The crisps stayed.

From base camp I offered a silent prayer. I feared most of my fellow expeditioners would fall along the wayside. Despite warnings in the languages likely to be spoken along the trail (Geordie, Yorkshire), supplemented by tongues none but the Classically trained could understand (Scouse) many of them had chosen to ignore advice and had worn Unsuitable Shoes. It would be carnage.

Deep breath. I knew I had to be brave. The bodies would surely have to remain in-situ. Beyond rescue. The last hope of those doomed by their Causal Footwear. I took one last look at my sturdy boots and set off.


Broadwood Falls


Pecca Falls


Thornton Force


Rival Falls

My new PC has arrived. Or a box has arrived at last. Hopefully it contains a desktop computer and I haven't upset someone like the final scene of Se7en. I'm 99% sure it'll be ok. Maybe I should check but its not worth losing my head about.

If it does contain a PC that'll be a relief because 1. It'll replace my old one which has turned into a ZX81 and 2. I'm not sure which recycling bin any body parts should go in.

I'm sure if I wait three months Sheffield Council will be sending me a new 'we think you might need to recycle medical waste' bin to clog up more of the back yard. It'll probably be red.

Bonus points if you remember a ZX81. Kids today eh don't know they're born with their modern iPods and BBC Micros.

I had a long weekend in London to stroll around the city and enjoy the views. Ok, I admit, a lot of the views were of the inside of pubs but there was plenty of walking in between. Omg London prices - when did 3 pints of beer cost £15? - I can buy 10 pints, 3 bags of pork scratching and a whippet for that up north, in Sheffield.

We had a trip booked to enjoy The View From The Shard, which as luck would have it, was at the top of the Shard.

The viewing point is on floor 72, pretty near the top. The lifts are so fast I believe that I may have actually time travelled and ended up a few seconds younger at the top. To be honest, I didn't feel any younger, although an episode of Mary, Mungo and Midge did flash through my mind. This may have been the beer though.

At £25 a go it would cost a lot to reduce your age significantly through the magic of lift travel. Give it a go if you have the spare cash.

When we were waiting in the queue at the bottom to get in the View, a guy actually asked the doorman - 'Excuse me Sir, is there a lift inside?' Honestly?
Imagine that design meeting - "Ok Nige, its over 72 stories high. So lets go over it. Rooms - check. Stairs - check. Hmm, you know what, I still cant help thinking we've forgotten something'.

When we checked into our hotel, the headline in the Greenwich Visitor was '59 days without rain' - so guess what. It rained when were at the top of the Shard. Actually, this made it quite moody and the only problem was avoiding photographing the raindrops on the glass windows. The viewing floor is open at top, which I hadn't realised, so rain gets in. It didn't spoil things.
You can buy ice cream and champagne at the top. I'm not sure which random wheel of catering was used to make that connection. They probably just had a few Cornettos left over from the office party.

So here's a few views of Olde London Towne from above.


The actual view with my widest lens. I had to carry the feet with me up the top which caused a few funny looks.


Tower Bridge and the River Thames, snaking away to the distance


St Paul's Cathedral high above the city

Part two of the photographic tour was the 'blue hour'. Not the hour when the the jokes are just for the grown-ups, (sorry, time travelled again - back to 1975) but the lovely period about 30-40 minutes after sunset, when the sky turns and deep blue and is balanced by the lights of the city. I love taking photos at this time.

During my drunken haze of the daytime I'd found a nice location around the Millennium Bridge and seen some nice compositions. I headed back around 8pm. Having paid just the £6 for a beer (2 whippets plus 2 bags of northern pork scratchings) whilst I waited for the drizzle to stop, I was then ready to spring into action. Giving the barman a last hard stare for overcharging (he shrugged, the kind of shrug that says he could feel my pain), I headed out to photograph the night.


St Paul's and the Millennium Bridge


St Paul's cathedral from the Millennium Bridge (ok, everyone takes this photo)


The city over Southwark Bridge


Panoramic view of the night London skyline from the Millennium Bridge - I thought this was going to be too dark but the long exposure worked well.

Pleased to report that I was Commended by the judge of the Magical Dreamy Atmosphere photo contest.

There were 1240 entries and only 45 with an Expert commendation.

Mine is the lovely morning tree I photographed (which is labelled as 41st from the public votes it also received)

https://www.photocrowd.com/photo-competitions/magicaldreamy-atmosphere-landscape-photo-contest-3641/judge-choices/

I've now added an Option to pay for purchasing 'offline' by using cheques and I've added P&P to cover the additional costs of shipments to Europe and the USA (Worldwide)

I'm back now from a very good week long break to Scotland to photograph the October autumnal colors.
I stayed at the Moness Resort in Aberfeldy which made a very good base for visiting the Loch Lomand and The Trossachs National Park area as well the Glencoe area.
The itinerary had lots of water and woodland to visit including the waterfall at Buachaille Etive More, Glen Etive, The Birks of Aberfeldy and the Falls of Dochart.
The weather was typical for that time of the year and rain was plentiful but this added to the colour and atmosphere and as a photographer I don't mind the drizzle (as long as can wipe my lens fast enough).

Waterfall photos are in this gallery

I headed up to Win Hill in the Dark Peaks area of the Peak District after work one summer evening. That is one of the evenings in the so called summer where it wasn't raining or generally dull. When I was a kid we had proper summers, 6 weeks holidays seemed to last 6 months and ice cream was given out free to school children by scores of successive local government initiatives. Not chocolate ice cream though as budgets could only stretch so far. Definitely no sprinkles.

So after an ice cream treat to remind me of the good old days, I headed off. I always try to arrive at any location about an hour before sunset. Or sunrise if I can, but those early starts are a bit more tricky. And there's usually no time for ice cream.

Experience has taught me that the promising light at sunset can vanish behind the annoying banks of cloud at the horizon who's sole purpose is to watch where I'm going and drift slowly towards the exact spot where the sun sets. I don't know how they do it. I'm assuming the Peak District clouds are in radio contact with the one's closer to my house so they can coordinate their evil plan of blocking out the sun at whatever location I head out to.

Clear blue skies don't do it for me photographically. The clouds know this and their other favorite trick is to not to appear at all. They lurk just out of sight and giggle between themselves, knowing they've ruined another trip out. Clouds have a very warped sense of humour. If they were human, they'd be the ones with the whoopie cushion. Kids, they'll be an app for that I expect. Life was more hands on in my day. Or ar$e on anyway.

Anyway, so when the clouds forget to charge their radio batteries and their coordinated attack on my photographic trip out to the Peaks breaks down, I'm sometimes rewarded with a gap in the clouds at sunset. This is my favorite time as the sunlight usually can cast some beautiful colours onto the clouds.

Having arrived early I thought it might be interesting to show the developing way the the light changes to the point when the sun actually sets. If you're lucky but when it happens its worth the effort.


This was the first photo of the evening and at the time I didn't think that very much was going to later on. A nice summer evening view towards Castleton.


I like sun stars or star burst which my lens makes in camera and I've used the composition ploy of just having it peak out from behind a subject on many occasions.


Oh hello, whats happens here I thought. That gap in the cloud I was hoping wouldn't disappear might actually be in the right place.


Finally, the best of both worlds and to my mind, any scene needs to have the light on the ground. I changed location to try to capture the side light along the edge of the gritstone.


The last image - a very strong afterglow which looks great and the light has now gone again from the foreground.

For want of a change from the normal and with no home game for the promotion chasing Blades, I decided on the spur of the moment that the late March weather forecast was good (for a change) and that I fancied a trip to the coast. I've always had Nash Point in South wales on my 'to do' list so I decided that would suit me just fine.

I booked into the Brentwood Hotel in Porthcawl which was OK for the night but it had its issues. After deciding the Reception was only an elaborate prop, perhaps left over from filming an exciting documentary on Porthcawl hotel life, I thought that I'd try the bar. Success. I received my room key but alas no directions to my room or complimentary beer. Even with my poor sense of direction I did locate the room which was at the top of the building.
It was one of the few hotel I've been in where the TV only received Radio and I couldn't get the WiFi password to work (for which I had to ask an overworked barman). In looking for the customary guide to the hotel and surrounding, usually positioned in a handy location I came across a receipt for pharmaceuticals from 6 months previous. I wondered (1) why hadn't the receipt been cleared away (2) was the receipt some coded reference to the WiFi password (it wasn't) and (3) was the person better now (I'll never know).
Later on I thought that I'd turned on the radio (sorry, TV) by mistake but it was only the occupants of the next room. Luckily all they did was talk and occasionally laugh heartily. At least, I think that was all they did. Top of my list on my travel kit is earplugs and come sleepy time they did the business (maybe next door did the business as well, who knows). Breakfast was very tasty though.

Nash Point was very nice. Smaller than I'd imagined and arriving an hour early for a recce was not really necessary. Had a pleasant chat with another photographer whilst the sun slowly dipped towards the horizon. He didn't know who may have left the receipt but at least the field has been narrowed by one.
When I finished taking photos and looked around I was amazed to see that the beach was like a busy day on the promenade. Photographer watching seemed to be the new thing. I wasn't sure whether to high five everyone on the way back. I didn't.

So here's a couple of shots from the day. Enjoy.

As we get closer to the shortest day I find that one of the drawbacks of winter is that the sun sets way before I can leave work which only leaves the weekend for photographic trips out.
A very mild winter so far with lots of cloudy evenings has meant that Peak District trips have been very unproductive so I've been revisiting the delights of Sheffield which I must admit I've been neglecting for a while. Familiarity breeding contempt I guess is the phrase.
I was motivated to revisit this by some positive comments about good old Sheffield city centre from my family on a recent trip out to celebrate my parents 50th wedding anniversary.
I prefer night photography around 30 minutes after sunset - the so called Blue Hour. I like shooting into lights as well and find that starbursts are a favourite subject of mine - created in camera by my 16-35mm L lens which produces some very crisp stars at f16. The challenge is always the limited time available to capture shots when all the lights in the scene are nicely balanced and before it gets to dark.


Sheffield Tudor Square


Sheffield Lyceum Theater


Sheffield St Paul's Square


Sheffield Train Station


Sheffield Train Station


Sheffield Peace Gardens


Sheffield Cutting Edge off Sheaf Street

I'm back from an enjoyable week on another of Guy's workshop - this one was Poland at the end of September with Shian, John, Pat, Hilary and Maria.

We landed at Krakow airport at Sunday lunchtime which was a bonus as I'd forgotten the break started on Sunday and assumed it was the Monday. I only re-discovered this the week before so it was a bonus days holiday for me!

The first night we headed up the Krakus Mound which had some great views of the city of Krakow which we timed to coincide with sunset to make the most of the city lights as they came on. I've never seen so many wedding photos being taken in one place. All those happy memories of kids and dogs running around, tourist on bikes riding past and slightly bemused English landscape photographers looking on.
Day 2 was an early start (always early starts) to photograph a monastery at sunrise but we fell foul of 'to much mist'. Mist is usually a good thing but we couldn't get high enough to look down onto it.
After Karkow we head off to our base to the southeast which was at the Tajemniczy Ogrod hotel. From here we ventured out over the Slovakian border, into the Tatras mountains and up to Morskie Oko lake via horse and cart. Again, the lake was a popular spot for wedding photos. The brides must have especially enjoyed the one hour walk up to the lake in full white wedding dress regalia in temperatures of 21C. I didn't see one husband offer to carry his bride there. And they say romance is dead.
The food and drink at restaurants where we ate was of high quality and cheap compared with Britain. Polish petrol stations seemed to have 2 small shelves for sundries (but alas no iced coffee) but have 18 shelves of very tasty looking Polish beer. Which is a ratio of shelves I approve of (apart from the lack of iced coffee). After being awake for 6 hours and it only being 10am, iced coffee would have been very nice.
Poland photos are in this gallery. Enjoy them like I enjoyed the trip.

Steve

Had a good trip up the Glencoe and the Isle of Skye with Guy, Richard (Professor Smart) and Aegis in mid-February this year.
The trip got off to a slightly delayed start as Guy's satnav packed in just before he set off to pick us up and he had to use the back up one. The one proved to be one of those satnavs that is interested in just about every route except the most direct one. It got lost a lot. Like me without a satnav.
It did give a chance to watch Dance Mums on a Saturday lunch time which sounds like some sort of speciality video which I understand might be available on the internet (Dance MILFs?). It was in fact an everyday story of mothers who like to argue with the dance instructors, their own children and other mothers whilst the dance instructors generally shout at everybody.
Cutting Dance Mums short we headed up to Glencoe via Glasgow Airport for an overnight stop with Mr Carson, Frank to his friends. Well to us anyway.
The weather forecast was good so we made the most of it by heading out early to photograph the Glencoe favourites of Buachaille Etive Mor and Black Rock cottage which hardly ever get photographed. For a week when the kids were on holiday it wasn't to busy.
After a good day around Glencoe we headed up to our base on the Isle of Skye which was on the outskirts of Portree. Next to the fire station in fact. We were very lucky to find that the fire station crew had recently installed an outside generator and they were seemed to be very proud of it. So proud were they that they played it long and loudly into the night which was not annoying in the slightest. We remarked on many morning how very annoyed we definitely weren't.
I woke on the first morning to find a Euro coin placed centrally on the bath map. All very odd as I don't recall ever wearing the clothes I had on in Euroland. Despite long hours of surveillance and a phone call to Derek Acorah, no progress was made in solving the mystery of how it arrived there.
Given the weather forecast looked like it would stay fine early in the week, we headed out early to photograph the Old Man of Storr. I knew it was a hard walk so I stripped out as much excess kit as possible. This still left enough weight that the average squaddie would have considered to be field punishment No 3.
We covered a lot a ground around the Isle of Skye in a lot a varying weather conditions. Some days were rained off and we sat in the car waiting for a brief break in the weather.
In Elgol, I waited patiently watching a lovely sunset develop behind looming storm clouds. Only at the crucial moment when the sun broke through the rain started exactly on cue and blasted straight into the lens. Impossible to take a shot. How does it know the specific direction to blow?
At Neist Point we risked an evening shoot in 50mph winds. The sea spray was blowing uphill and it was interesting to say the least. I had to spread my legs and bury my stubby 4 inches as deeply as I could into the soft yielding earth. Tripod legs and tripod spikes that it. I was pleased that the shot came out with no camera shake though.

All in all, we gave it our best shot for a week and a great time was had by all.

Scotland photos are in this gallery

I'm off to Scotland soon for a photo trip around the Isle of Skye. I've no idea what to expect at the moment - I'm just wondering what the name of the storm will be. There's bound to be one that will ruin the trip. Will we be up to storm Kevin by then? Can't wait for the T's. I hope they call it Storm Trooper.

No idea if I'll see any snow. I've seen ice twice this year and one of those times was when I left the freezer door open. Hate defrosting the fridge.

I am looking forward though to a side benefit of the trip. Hot water. The old boiler has broken down (insert 1970s joke here) and I'm fed up of wallowing in half an inch of tepid water. Good job my hair isn't as thick and lustrous as in was back in my heyday as the 6th member of Bon Jovi so at least its manageable.

Back to the trip. Looking forward to getting out and about. I've had some great trips up around Skye and Glencoe and we'll get some great shots I'm sure, no matter what the weather.

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Life satisfaction plummets between the ages of 45 and 59, according to a new survey from the Office of National Statistics that the Guardian reported today. Thank God. I'm not alone although I don't recall filling in the questionnaire. Not that I'm paranoid. People say I'm paranoid. Well OK, they don't say I'm paranoid but I know that's what they're thinking.

The bit I recognise was that 'life doesn’t make sense in a world in which David Bowie is no longer alive and pyjamas are OK on the school run'. What is going on. I remember laughing at a story back when I was younger. Just after the war. The Boer War it feels like. Apparently a Judge back in the swinging 60s hadn't even heard of The Beatles. How could the cat be so unhip daddio I thought to myself. Just call me Judge Pricey. I watched an entire advert on the TV device for Capital radio. Lots of fresh face youngsters. It didn't dawn on me till afterward that they were all probably 'someone'. I have no idea who. Maybe Justin Bieber. Is he still alive?

So what to do. I've woken up at the bus station of life and the last bus outta town seems to have rolled out. I'll have to look in the drawers of life (not the frilly type) for any lost property I might recognise (Sony Walkmans, the 2 Ronnie's, hostess trollies) and build a makeshift shelter. I might be here for some time.