My Adventures – Knightshoots Landscape Photography

St Cuthbert Cross, Berwick Upon Tweed and Bamburgh Castle

Northumberland 2021: Part One

26 May 2021

So, a job in Northumberland meant that I had a new county to explore! I drove up the day before (leaving less than an hour after my second covid injection) as the agent had very kindly arranged a covid test first thing for me, parked up in a nearby layby to get some sleep after the long drive and was at the testing site first thing. Fortunately for me, one of the crew signing us in and guiding us on where to go, happened to be a local. As we got chatting, he suggested several locations that were worth going to, and I left aiming for the closest, St Cuthberts Cross and Church Island in Alnmouth. The car park he directed me to was no longer available, as the road to it has now been blocked off, but I found a nearby spot and started the hike down to church hill. The weather wasn’t particularly promising, but it actually suited the shot I hoped for with the Cross, so I wasn’t put off just yet. I pushed on past the little derelict chapel I noted at the bottom of the hill, aiming to get that as I came back, and breached the top of the hill at a fairly windy and cloudy moment. My intention to try and get a shot of a moody cloud streaking across the sky towards the cross, but I haven’t actually worked out how to get a shot like that. Seems wind/cloud direction and speed are a big factor! I tried several shots, most didn’t give it the bleak, lonely feel I wanted, because the background looked full and populated, but I finally found a spot I liked and ending up squatting down in a grassy part down the side of the hill. Several people passed through on daytime walks with their dogs, but everyone was lovely, and they all moved out of my shot really quickly. I guess this is obviously a popular spot! It also seems most photographers get nice sunsise or sunset shots from here, but where its up high and alone, I wanted a shot with a colder, empty, lonely feel to it. Although close to what I envisioned, my shot wasn’t quite what I hoped for a) because the clouds were blowing across the scene rather than into it and b) they were moving so slowly despite the wind, that I simply couldn’t get the effect no matter how hard I tried! I decided that I would have to retry another time but for now I was getting battered a bit by the winds where I was so exposed, so I decided I would try the little church lower down.

This little hill by the way is called Church Hill, and the cross is believed to mark the spot where in 684, the former monk and prior, Cuthbert, agreed to leave his life as a solitary hermit, and to become the bishop of Lindesfarne after King Ecgfrith of Deria and Northumberland petitioned him in person. He died a few years later in March 687, and was subsequently venerated to become Saint Cuthbert, one of the most popular saints in medieval England. I have no idea when this cross was first placed here, but this particular one certainly didn’t look ancient. If they are always made of wood they must eventually rot being exposed like this, so, I guess, must also need regular replacement. Its a nice spot to visit though, being high up on its own little hill, and surrounded by wetlands, with views across the river and coast that are well worth exploring.

Down this hill a little, near the bottom, are the ruins of a small mortuary chapel built around 1870. In the grey weather, I tried a couple of different positions, but the scene was a little flat no matter where I stood. As I contemplated what I could do here, two elderly gents passed by and got chatting with me. ‘Where is your accent from?’ asked one eventually. I have never been asked where I was from like that before, and for a brief second I stopped to wonder what accent (!!) We chatted for ages, and the men offered several other location ideas that I could visit, most already on my list, but it was good to hear confirmations on them, and recommendations for new ones! They went on their way, (actually inside the ruins) to have their lunch, and I noted a glimmer of sunlight trying to poke through onto my scene. This showed that the side I stood on was all in shadow, so I moved round and took a photo from the other side, which caught another, smaller, glimmer of light, and this time a hint of some moving cloud. The sun didn’t reappear again but I could see that above the low cloud, there were patches of blue coming. I waited for a while, but sunshine clearly wasn’t going to happen anytime soon here, and I ended up feeling that this whole location might actually be better at a high tide, with a nice warm morning or evening sun anyway. So I ended here and headed back to the camper for some lunch.

The small derelict chapel at the bottom of Church Hill.

As I sat in the camper making lunch and thinking of where to go, I decided that as I had a few days, maybe I should just start at the top, and work my way down, simply exploring and working out locations for now. Once I finished eating, I looked at my map, and headed up to the top of Northumberland and to Berwick upon Tweed in particular.

The drive up was really easy – one road pretty much! As I drove, the dark sky was to my left and lighter blue was coming through to my right. At one point I passed a sight that I have ever since kicked myself for not stopping at. Not that I could have done so easily from the dual carriageway I was driving on. It was the striking sight of a very dark sky, with the sun shining brightly on 3 white windfarm windmills, and lighting up the grassy hill in front into a lush green colour. It was a surprisingly beautiful and simple sight of something I would never consider photographing… but alas, it disappeared into the distance in my rear view mirror as I sped away at 60 mph. Its still in my head though, and I remember where it was – so should I ever get lucky and spot that sight again, I will make sure I stop!

As my drive on continued, I altered my course slightly. Before I hit Berwick, I decided to drive on another 5 minutes to just step (literally) into Scotland, simply because I randomly fancied getting as far north of England as I possibly could, and solely for s**ts and giggles – well since it was so close, why on earth not eh?! (is this work or a holiday? – does it actually matter?!!) I sent photos to the family of my feet in both countries, looked at the little bit of wall there, and tried to follow the route it would have taken with my eyes, since we are not able to follow it with our feet. There really wasn’t much else there to mark this otherwise important position, so the stop didn’t last much more than 5 Minutes itself. Childish giggles for myself over, I drove down to find my location.

Berwick Upon Tweed was on my list because I had seen a boat sculpture, a viaduct and a bit of the old castle all fairly close to each other and I hoped to find them to see if I could get them to work in one shot. I parked up and went on a reccie trip, leaving all my kit in the camper (I suspected this site would look best at sunset.. which was still several hours away) I travelled through a really lovely park bit that was beautifully set out and very peaceful, and found the three elements for my hoped for composition very easily. I explored what I could, taking photos with my mobile but I couldn’t find a way to get all 3 elements in the shot together in a pleasing way (to my eye), so I just sat on the boat and relaxed instead. If only I were a few feet taller! This area was just SO peaceful though. Despite being in a big town, I could only hear birds and the tide lapping at the shore – it was an incredibly beautiful spot. The sun finally made a stronger appearance, and I found myself here for over an hour just taking in the calm and warm sunshine. I reminded myself that I was just 24 hours after the jab, so was mindful not to overdo anything -this weather and location being perfect to help encourage me to take things easy.

Awww… If only I was a few feet taller so I could seperate the boat from the bridge!

As I sat I realised the tide was actually going out, and that by the time sunset would be here, the view might largely be mud rather than a nice reflective water. Since I hadn’t brought down my kit anyway I decided to just rack this one up as a place ‘yet to do’, and I picked another location for the evening. As the sky had mostly cleared, I thought there might be a chance for a nice sunset, so picked a location I thought might work perfectly, and one I had been dying to see in person. Bamburgh Castle – a castle photographed a huge number of times and one that was sure to look great regardless of what happened with the weather. I hoped this would be as equal a corker location for me, as it clearly had been for all the other photographers whose pictures I had admired. The drive was very easy (as were all the locations along this coastline I found!) and the walk to the beach was equally so. I was standing in position within a few minutes of parking and taking in the wonderous sight that was reflected perfectly in the wet sand where the tide was on its way out.

I wasn’t alone either, there was another couple here, both with their tripods out, Peter and Caroline, and we happily got chatting about the view, our experiences, locations we had visited and our kits. (Peter had the most awesome lightweight tripod, Caroline had the same Benro geared head on hers as I had!) They had been here a number of times before, coming up to Northumberland from Cornwall regularly to tour and get photos of areas they loved. They suggested a number of further sights for me to try, most, again, on my list, and a couple that weren’t. The longer we waited for the sunset though, the quicker the cloud in the sky disipated sadly, until we were left with a clear blue sky and nothing to reflect the sunset colour. We all tried what we could however, and even though it was disappointing, at least we had a beautiful warm colour on the castle itself, and I had already manage a lovely reflection shot with some interesting cloud, when I’d first arrived.

Mildly disappointed it wasn’t looking like I would get a colourful sunset cloud, I looked behind me to see where the sun was in relation to the horizon (would there be enough time for any cloud to form?!!) and was in awe of the sight. It was just dipping behind the little lighthouse here, throwing the evening sky and sand into deep oranges over to the west, and silhouetting another photographer standing right behind me, that I hadn’t noticed turn up. She was a younger woman, very much focussed on what she was doing, chatting quietly with a man who was with her, so I didn’t distract her with conversation of my own (I tend to talk a lot sometimes!!) She was photographing the view I was looking at, and definately had the right idea though, so I swung my camera around to capture this sight instead, photographing them in the scene (see header pic). I then stepped to her side and photographed the lighthouse as well. Seconds later the sun was gone, and the colour immediately dimmed with it.

I messaged a friend who told me that there was going to be a supermoon that night, and when I excitedly brought up my Photopils app, it looked like the moon may well come up behind the castle at around 1am!! Exhilarated at the prospect of a nice moon and castle shot, I decided to stay put with the camper and come out a little later. Within the hour however, there was heavy cloud on the horizon and by midnight the sky was covered… this wiped away any chance of seeing any stars and definately not a supermoon. 🙁

The sun setting behind Bamburgh Lighthouse

With my options stripped, I just went to sleep where the camper was. Perhaps by dawn the sky might be clear….

Corpach Boat and Lighthouse and Back to Glasgow

Scotlands Highlands 2020: Part Twenty Six

17 & 18 August 2020

So my last location was finally here!

After I ate my food, and checked the weather, I looked out to see big looming clouds building. It didn’t bode well, but at the same time, the sun was still trying to flick in and out. I ended up having a massive debate with myself… Should I try the boat shot after all – or not. I really don’t want to – but this might be your last chance – but I am SOOO tired! – but you might regret it if you don’t, but … and on and on it went for about 10 minutes… full on arguing with myself (!!!) and then, as if some unseen spirit took over my body, I just grabbed my bag and left the camper. Once out I felt the full power of the exhaustion, but told myself that it was just a 5 minute walk, and at least I would have tried to get a classic shot off the bucket list.. even if I didn’t find boats exciting to photograph. The walk wasn’t hard, but I found myself plodding laboriously through the tiredness, and when I got to the boat, I took position and framed up without much enthusiasm. Then suddenly, out of the grim clouds, one beam of light broke through and hit just the boat, nothing else! I couldn’t believe my eyes at the sight. Something boring and drab, suddenly looked magical! I took the shot instantly, and a second, by the third the light was noticeably less, and by the 4th it was gone.

The Corpach Boat. Often photographed, and a definite bucket shot collectors piece for me

At the same time, rather randomly, thoughts of my dad jumped into my head, which I felt very comforted by. Part of me felt he was giving me this – having been a sailor he would have loved this place. Yes I know, that’s probably just me being an emotional softie, looking for meaning in unusual moments, but I have to say, the whole thing suddenly energised me, and I was able to continue working the scene for another hour without any problems… well, that’s not quite true…

The light may have gone, but there was still a great, moody feel about the scene, which I loved. As the clouds behind the boat split further, revealing more of the mountain (which incidently is Ben Nevis), I got all excited and fired off several shots before realising that there was a large family of people that had walked into the scene. I stopped and waited, hoping they would leave quickly, as the higher clouds were beginning to go a gorgeous peachy colour.. ‘this might just kick off!’ I quietly thought/hoped. Half the group split off and climbed onto the boat, and for the next 20 minutes the family took their time venturing all over it (with torches at some points) and all over the shore, while the cloud was doing beautiful things around the mountain. When the party on the boat finally climbed down, I noticed the cloud really picking up colour, glowing incredibly, with the lower cloud staying grey. It looked amazing, but wait… Now the group is posing in front of the boat for photos, this way, that way, and another… lets all look at the photos… lets take some more… this way, that way… and again, and again… I nearly cried as I watched the amazing colour start to fade away, and decided to fire a shot anyway, and just prayed that I could remove each person in the editing stage. The light finally went altogether, and the group left the beach… but wait… what’s that?!! 2 of the group gave me a hearty wave showing me they knew I was there all along…(#@$&#!!!) At the time, I was so frustrated at the inconsiderate way they had just stayed there (when they could have stepped aside while checking their photos at least)… but they had every right to be there of course, and in all honesty, they probably had NO idea that the sky was doing something stunning that I had been desperate to capture. It was one of those great frustrations you occasionally experience being a photographer.

Corpach Boat, just as the colour in the sky was fading.

Shortly after, I too left, as now the light was ebbing away quickly into blackness with the mix of night and building clouds. The promised storm however, never happened thankfully, and I ended up with a really pleasant light rain on the camper for the large part of the night.

The next morning I was up bright and early for the dawn, with my fingers crossed that the tide was high, and the water still. The rain had stopped, the worst of the cloud cover had passed, and it no longer looked angry. There was cloud, but it didn’t heavily blanket the sky any more, so I felt hopeful that I might be a bit lucky. When I turned up, the water was the perfect height, and although not perfectly still, there were continuing moments when calm just crept over the surface in patches. It was fascinating watching this happen, it was almost as if it had a life of its own, breathing in and out across the water. I stood embodying the full levels of emotions in this scene, hope rising and falling with the growing stillness, breathing when a breeze shattered it, holding my breath when the still patches grew, and suddenly, there it was… the scene still and beautiful, and by some miracle it coincided with a glow in the sky and my pressing the trigger on the camera.

Corpach Marina. This was my one and only chance to get this shot. The amazing view doesn’t exist now!

Much as this looked beautiful, I felt a little heartbroken that it wasn’t perfect. (don’t want much do I?!! LOL) There were mounds of soil spoiling it, metal fencing, bright orange diggers and cones all well within the shot. I didn’t have a clue as to what was going on there. I initially thought they were doing some repair work, but I looked it up yesterday, and have seen that they have built a whole new marina here. The only photo I have seen to date, is an aerial one, so I am not totally sure what it might look like now, from the position that I had used. From the air though it looks like the reflection of the two buildings has now been obliterated, as the new bit of marina seems to come out as far as those. That’s not to say it won’t be a beautiful view when they are done – I understand they hope to build a cafe and marina facilities building, which may, or may not, make an awesome reflection for future photographic ventures. As it stands though, this does mean that I will never be able to capture this shot looking like this ever again… and nor will anyone else.

*update… apparently the bit I have seen online, is just phase one… the car park and shop part… they have yet to build a further floating section for up to 45 boats, which, looking at the diagrams, will cover this entire area.

Photo done, this morning left me feeling extremely satisfied and that my journey for this trip, was complete.

I left and drove back to my daughter in Glasgow. I bought a takeaway for us all with the £20 note I had found outside on the very first day, and we chatted about the adventure. We looked River over and found one singular tic on her, which we gently removed, but other than that she had fared extremely well I felt. I enjoyed my first full bath, slept in a real bed and drove home the next day fully rested and ready for home, singing happy songs pretty much all the way.

Buachaille Etive Mor, Ralston’s Cairn, Glencoe Lochan and Kinlochleven

Scotlands Highlands 2020: Part Twenty Five

17 August 2020

This morning I hoped to get a very well known shot, that I had already tried in January. To be fair the January shot was really nice and moody, but I wanted a day where there was a full mountain and sun shining on the waterfall in front of it, and indeed, hopefully on the mountain itself. I wanted a happy and cheerful version of the photo instead… Today I was aiming to get the Buachaille Etive Mor waterfall shot I had been dreaming of.

When I awoke, the sun was flicking in and out of the clouds and I felt content that this would be perfect for what I hoped. I gently sorted myself out, had a bit of breakfast, a cup of tea, and left to finally get my shot just before 9. River and I made our way over to the prime shooting spot, and as I approached, I was rather surprised to see that it was photographer free – well that’s a real rarity – but it would mean I would have the place to myself and I would be able to move around freely! Then I looked up skywards, and noticed that the cloud had started to build. I might have been just that little bit too slow getting here, I sadly realised… but the sun did keep trying behind me, and I could see the mountain was clear at least. I wasn’t going to give up hope just yet! – until I got closer however, when I was totally surprised at the sight… there was no water at all!!! I laughed, and looked at River ‘well that explains the lack of photographers here doesn’t it?!’ As if the sun heard me, and wanted to stick its tongue out, it then bathed the Buachaille in beautiful swathes of dappled light. Well you can’t have everything, right? I took those pictures just to remind myself that the sun does shine here, and packed everything back up. I sense that Glencoe will be having a trip entitled ‘take 3’! Lol.

A very moody Buachaille Etive Mor in Jan 2020…

…today though, there was no water in the falls!

I didn’t think much further here, and just went back to the camper. Had I of really thought about it, I could have followed the river along a little, and maybe gotten an entirely different shot. Although I didn’t quite see it from my vantage point, the water hadn’t gone entirely, and I could hear the river flowing in the distance. Oh well, hindsight is a wonderful thing and all that…

Yesterday was about finding a thing I missed on my January visit. Another location I’d missed, was Ralston’s Cairn. It wasn’t too far from here, and after the January trip I had researched its location better, and a parking spot for it, for the future. So today, since the falls had been a bust, I decided that the future was here, and that I would go take a hike to find it. I pulled up at the singular parking spot, which, thankfully, was empty, and readied myself for an uphill hike. I used Google maps to try and find the exact position of the cairn, since it was on there with one of their markers, although I knew from other photos online roughly where it was. I hiked up, following Google until I saw a small building. It had marked this as the cairn, but it definitely wasn’t here. I had a little explore instead, then wandered around a slightly wider area in an attempt to find it. Using a photo I had on my phone, I tried to line up landmarks and wandered up and down in the area for a bit, until I nearly gave up – then I saw it. It was lower than I was, lower than the building marked, and a bit further down than the map had indicated. In fact, it wasn’t far from the start and I had overshot it by quite a bit! I went over and sat down nearby resting and just taking the view from here in thoroughly. On any other day it might have been an absolutely stunning view, but for me right now the cloud had taken root, and there was no sunlight picking out the scenery in front of me. That doesn’t mean to say that it wasn’t still breathtaking however!

View of the Glencoe valley from Ralston’s Cairn

Because the scenery was pretty flat, I thought I would just try to blur it out a little and get the cairn in crisp focus so that it was clearly the point of the image. I thought I would at least try and be a bit creative and deliberate in my shot(!) This wasn’t something I had really tried before, but I wanted the view to still be there, just not as the main subject. It would have been very easy for me to snap a photo taking the whole view in, and if it had been dappled in patches of sunlight I probably would have done that. For now however, I put my aperture onto the widest open that I could (f2.8 on this lens) and took this shot. I can see that it hasn’t blurred the background as much as I hoped though. For those not camera techy, setting the aperture to the smallest number will ‘open’ the lens up to its fullest. This does two things – it lets in a lot more light (so you have to adjust other settings to ensure its not too bright) and it restricts the area of focus. (also called the depth of field) Now, I really struggle to understand the camera settings, and no matter how many times I think I get it, I forget it all very quickly – but this effect almost worked – so maybe some is slowly sinking in after all! I suspect it wasn’t quite as blurry as I hoped in the distance because the subject that I was using to focus on (the cairn) wasn’t as close to the lens as it needed to be for a stronger effect on the deeper background. But if I had been right up close to the cairn, the balance of the photo wouldn’t have been what I wanted either, so this may have to do I think. Of course I may be totally wrong about all this… an experiment trying other ideas will show me otherwise I guess… (or someone advising me of course!)

Ralstons cairn, by the way, is a fairly new one. Its in memory of Ralston Claud Muir, who died suddenly, aged just 32, on 10 January 2000 from a rare form of leukaemia that he didn’t know he had. He loved to climb in the Glen, and his family and friends decided to have his ashes remain here forever, so he would never be far from the area he loved so much. On the marker it says “These are my mountains and I have come home. Ralston” The number of photos taken here, at this exact spot, are a reminder of why he loved this place so much, and will keep both this love and his memory very much alive. I was so very pleased to have finally found it, and sat having a short chat with him before finally making my way back down to Fred – a walk which revealed just how much closer to the start point it actually was.

It was 1.30 by now, so I wondered what I should consider doing next… I had visited Glencoe Lochen in January, but they had drained it at the time to do some urgent repair works. I wasn’t sure if they had finished it (as I couldn’t remember what their timescale was), but I assumed it would be a long job. I decided to go and visit here anyway, just to take a look, and started the drive. Somehow I took a wrong turn and was driving for over half an hour simply enjoying the views over what I now realise was Loch Leven, before I spotted my mistake. I turned back, found the parking spot I had hoped for and went for a gentle stroll around the circuit with River. After the woodland segment of the walk, I reached the lochen to realise that the water had been completely filled again, that it was looking stunning, and that even this late in the day, the water was incredibly still. The cloud had lifted a little in the hour I had been driving, and I was blessed with the odd burst of light across the whole scene. (see header photo) Agh!! I didn’t have my kit with me!! I pondered for a few minutes, but I really couldn’t be bothered to go all the way back for my camera, so I took out my mobile and settled on shots with that instead. The view from a little jetty looked particularly gorgeous this afternoon, and at least I now knew that the work here was all finished and that it would be good for next time right…?

Glencoe Lochen. Fully filled, and looking stunning. A huge difference to January

This was about the walk Sandy… just the calm, peaceful walk… don’t look at it all too closely… enjoy the WALK!!! I was actually fuming with myself that I hadn’t brought my full kit, despite the pep talk – but looking skyward, it was clear that the break in the cloud was only ever going to be fleeting. By the time I had gotten all the way to the camper, and then back here again, this would surely not look like this. Or so I told myself anyway… I don’t know it convinced me however. The walk was wonderful, and despite my frustrations with myself, It was lovely to walk around somewhere beautiful without the weight on my back.

When I left here, it was to go to my final overnight spot, and to be in position for my last morning shot. I had plenty of time now, because I was just thinking of simply going back to park up ready, and relaxing for the evening. As I had the extra time on my hands, I decided to follow the pretty view I had mistakenly taken just before getting here. I paused for a quick stop in Kinlochleven, the village at the top of Loch Leven, when I saw what I thought were big gushing falls into the river that led into the Loch. As I explored I realised it wasn’t a waterfall, but a man made structure, releasing water from something being used much further upstream. I found a board that told about there being a dam further into the hills at Loch Eilde Mor. It said that the demand for Aluminium had grown so rapidly during the first world war that 1200 German POW’s and 500 British soldiers were brought in to build a pipeline from the dam to another – the Blackwater Dam, 5 miles away – to help increase water to the hydro scheme. I wonder if this is the run off from anything to do with that or the Aluminium smelter?

I tried to get closer to see if there was a shot here, but realised fairly quickly that I needed to plan this in properly to be able to work the scene. The flow out was quite chaotic, and the little spur of pebbled bank didn’t really lend itself to a nice enough foreground to balance the power of the gushing water. I went from there to the main bridge, and noticed that behind the commercial wastewater (??) there was the possibility of another shot with a little wooden foot bridge, a small weir (?) and some very gently flowing river. I was feeling too tired to go back and explore further though, so I snapped a photo on my phone, and left it there for today. This tiredness had been building clearly, as it was twice now that I had not bothered this afternoon. The ‘not bothered’ mood struck again very shortly afterwards, when I spotted a small sign pointing the way to a waterfall near where I had parked up. The Grey Mare’s waterfall was somewhere nearby clearly, although I couldn’t hear it from here, and I had no idea how far a hike might take me. Did I want to investigate… did I?…did I? I knew it wasn’t on my map as I had never heard of this one and I pondered it for a bit I wont lie, but was I feeling quite exhausted, so took a photo of the sign to remind me to look it up… and I left it for now instead.

Water at Kinlochleven. Run off from of the hydroelectric scheme?

As I drove towards Corpach, I suddenly realised how hungry I was too, (had I eaten anything since my light breakfast??) so I stopped off for something at the Fort William MacDonald’s drive through. I am not usually a fan of burgers, but I was so hungry I realised I actually wanted ANYTHING… no, I wanted EVERYTHING!!! LOL!!! The girl at the window was really helpful, and made sure I had enough of the sauces as I suddenly remembered extras to my order that I had forgotten, and I left salivating at the thought of tucking into it. Me, salivating at the thought (and smell) of a McD… that’s got to be a first!

As I drove through the north part of Fort William, a sign flashed up that there was a yellow weather warning for the area, and that heavy rains were expected. I feared the worst thinking that tomorrow may well be a bust – but I was here now, so I may as well stay, just in case. I pulled up at my stop for the night, ravenously devoured my food, and checked the weather. Yep. bad weather was definitely on its way looking at this…

Glen Nevis, Steall Falls and Torren Lochan

Scotlands Highlands 2020: Part Twenty Four

16 August 2020

Well, I have two days free, what shall I do with them?

That question went round in my head for the night and into the morning, and eventually I settled on going back to Glencoe to re-do some of the areas that I had tried back in January. Everything back then went so badly, I literally haven’t written or thought much about the trip, although I guess I shouldn’t dismiss it entirely – I did get a couple of nice photos out of it, and it was, ultimately, a really good recce trip. It gave me a good idea on the layout of locations in the glen, as well as which sights I wanted to revisit, the conditions I hoped to try them in, and better than these, some spots that I had yet to find. One on the ‘yet to find’ list really struck me. ‘How on earth did I miss this one?!!’ was the question I asked myself when I found out about Steall Falls. Its only the second highest falls in the whole of Scotland (!) really picturesque, and a reasonable hike away that shouldn’t take a whole day… Today I decided that, as I now had the opportunity to find them for myself, this should be the location for my next exploration! Settled on this plan, I drove on over.

The route from Corpach was easy, and 45 minutes after leaving I found myself driving through beautiful hills where the cloud moved in the breeze, leaving dapples of sunlight dancing across the scene everywhere. Eventually I found a car parking spot and ran up a small mound to capture this:

I didn’t realise it at the time, but I was driving through Glen Nevis, and wow, what a beautiful Glen! I continued to follow the road through here, absolutely loving the views with every turn of the road, and I found myself at a car park near a waterfall on the river that wound through here. I got out to have a quick look and saw that this wasn’t the Steall falls I was looking for, but the ‘lower falls’ on the Waters of Nevis, a much smaller one. I noted the price of the car park and the waterfall for future, got back in the camper, and continued following the road. It had started getting more forestry now, and as I passed a second car park (smaller this time) I thought that I might be getting near. The road carried on still further though, and then I started noticing cars parked up all along the roadside. Shortly after I found myself in another car park, that was crammed, and the road ended in the middle of it. This one was the Upper Glen Nevis car park. It looked to hold about 30 vehicles, and, as luck would have it, just as I debated how on earth I was going to turn round, someone behind me signalled that he was about to leave. Lucky me! I basically had the last spare spot, and rather pleasantly, this one was free parking as well! I sorted myself out and eagerly left for the hike that I understood would be through a gorge to the waterfall itself.

It was not the easiest hike – some points involved clambering over large boulders, a few were very slippery as some of the surfaces were largely scree or wet from trickles of water, many areas nearer water were heavily infested with midges, but I actually found myself managing all this pretty easily. At one point I over took a group of 5 Indian men who were huffing and puffing at a slower pace than mine. Clearly my fitness over these last few weeks had improved dramatically, and I wished I had thought of a better route for this whole road trip that’d maybe had the harder, more monro/mountain hikes, towards this point of it. I probably would have managed to have gotten one in after all had I have jigged the locations more considerately… Oh well, I might rethink other trips now I realised this. After a hike of about 45 minutes I started passing several people on their way back towards me. I also passed a deep bit of the gorge where I could hear water falling, but there was no way I could see the falls there… they sounded substantial though! Then the valley opened up properly, and as I turned round a bend I could see the falls in all their glory.

WHAT a place this was!! It was totally secluded here, and a large open grassy plain lay in front of me, with a gentle river flowing through it from where the water fell from the waterfall. As I walked along the side of the hill where the path still followed, I noticed that there was another river coming from further to the left and that the meadow opened further and continued on round that way. This to me would have been a perfect place to hide out from a threatening enemy. The mountains around the sides offered perfect cover, and as the sun beamed down, I could feel barely any breeze, which I assume would mean this place may have its own microclimate of more placid weather. Back then, without an obvious, well trodden tourist path, it would have been harder to find an obvious way in, but the open plain, fresh water, and lush carpet of grass may have been a perfect safe haven for a few hideaway huts or cottages. There was no evidence of any of this however, no ruins that I could see, and no big information board with a history telling of any of this, so I wonder if anyone ever lived here at all. For me today however, it looked incredibly peaceful, and although there was a steady stream of tourists milling around the area, I can’t say it was heaving.

I walked over to the Water of Nevis in front of me, and crossed over, realising that the ground was quite boggy in places, and then I had to cross again closer to the falls where the stream from those cut across the meadow. Further down, after the two waters joined, there is a rope bridge, but that was not possible for me to use with a dog, so I had walked on to find to find the shallowest bits of river. Today that wasn’t really too hard, the water maybe got as high as half way up my wellies… but I am not sure how easy this might be at wetter times of the year! (Having said that, there are no formal wooden or stone bridges here, so maybe its never been an issue…?) I took photos of the falls from every angle I could, from one side, from the other, and from the bottom where you can actually climb over big boulders to stand right by the base of the falling water. Here I sat for ages just taking in the sound of these stunning falls. As I sat here, I watched as a number of tourists made their way from one side of the falls to the other over these huge stones and through the pools of water that the falls made in between them all. Some were clearly having an absolute ball, but I was quite sad to watch one man pretty much bullying his partner through them. She was quite clearly feeling highly unsure of the jumps across and the steps down into unknown depths, but I could see from the gestures he was making, that he had no patience for her fear and was pretty much forcing her to go across with him. It really left a mark on me watching her trying so hard to please him, but him being totally ignorant to her needs. She was clearly terrified as she paced each rock, or sat on them, trying to stretch her legs across enough to just touch the next boulder, before working out enough courage to either jump or slide over. It brought back some bad memories and feelings I didn’t want to remember…

Once they disappeared out of view behind the trees and bushes in the middle, I decided to get myself a little closer and to try a selfie. I don’t generally do these, but I wanted something that would help show the height of these falls when you were at the bottom. My phone didn’t do the height any justice sadly, but cropped, it made a nice shot for the header of this blog…

I was here for several hours, partly because I just felt so at home here, and partly because many of my shots were hampered by visitations from my favourite (!!) pest. I would set up and either tolerate their tickles, or move around until they had cleared and then went back to the camera to quickly snap a few shots. Eventually though, I had captured much of what I could, and I had to leave this beautiful place. River and I walked back this side of the falls, and found ourselves by the rope bridge. Well, I obviously couldn’t use it to get across the river, so I decided that I would simply have to walk across. It was deeper here, and wider than the river closer to the falls, as it was two streams of water merged into one by this point, but some of the rocks on the riverbed helped form a sort of stepping stones across. Halfway I met another woman coming the other way, a lovely big black lady with a fantastic accent from somewhere I couldn’t pinpoint, and a glorious laugh. For a few moments we actually had to hold onto each other for balance in the middle of the stream! We laughed as we paused to regain ourselves and she explained that she couldn’t do the rope bridge because, unlike her boys, she felt it was way too scary. I think she was partially regretting that decision now though! I nodded towards River happily paddling across and we laughed at how easy she was making it look. Once balanced, we let go of each other, made sure each other were OK, and continued on our ways.

Steall falls, as I left the valley – with the rope bridge showing down to the bottom right.

As the walk progressed through the gorge, I stopped at a beautiful viewpoint and wondered about taking a photo of River and I together. I wasn’t sure how I could set it up, and take it without her not sitting ready, as the moment I moved to the camera to take a timed shot, she would surely come over with me. As I mused over the sight, pondering ideas, I was stopped by a couple who asked if I could take their photo with that view behind. I happily obliged, as they were so nice about it. I often get asked, as (I assume) they think I might be very capable of taking a nice shot (having a full kit gives that impression!) I am not sure where they were from, but although neither were British (judging from their accents), I didn’t think they had the same birthplace either. He looked Scandinavian, and she oriental. (I am not a good judge of accents, but they spoke differently too) As a couple they were really beautiful together, but she, especially, was a beauty I was happy to photograph. It struck me by now, that nearly every interaction I had been having here, and indeed many throughout the whole road trip, were with people non native to UK soil. As this was still in the midst of Covid restrictions, I became most curious as to how each of them had ended up here, in this country, at this particular moment…

After I gave her phone back she asked something no-one has ever asked me before. ‘Do you want me to take your picture?’ I was most taken aback… no-one has EVER asked ME before, most people just say thank you and go on their merry way. I obviously answered in the affirmative, but explained that I didn’t want to just stand there looking at the camera, would she mind taking a photo of me and River looking out at the view?? She happily did as I asked, firing several pictures off on my phone, and commenting on how beautiful it looked like that. After taking my shots, she moved her partner into a similar position, and took his photo too. When I saw the photos on my phone, I fully agreed, and I absolutely loved them – she did such an awesome job framing them up!

Chatting to River about the view looking over Glen Nevis

After this I was left with a bit of time. Evening was definitely creeping on, but it wasn’t so late that I couldn’t look for somewhere else to visit. I thought back to January, and remembered that one loch, in particular, was nice and quiet, but hadn’t produced a photo I wanted because of the low cloud that had obliterated all the mountains. This was Torren Lochan, so I decided that I would drop past there to check it out, before I headed off to my planned stop for the night. I turned up and happy that the mountains behind the lochen were visible, trotted over to the waters edge on a little island in the middle. Sadly there were less chances of reflections than there were in January, but I just sat for a while taking in the calm, watching as the water tried its best to smooth out (it genuinely seemed to be trying to comply with my hopes!) There is something about this particular place that really grounds me, and I can’t put my finger on it. I could sit on the little island for hours given a chance!! Maybe its because its small, almost private, maybe because its not a particularly huge tourist draw, being so dwarfed by the many other sights of Glencoe – but no matter what the reason I felt so good here was due to, the spell was broken a few minutes later when a big group of people entered the water with paddle boards. Any chance of the water calming was totally gone, as was the peace. So, for now, I have to settle with my reminder photo from January to keep me encouraged to try here again a third time. I suspect very early morning would be my best chance for super still water… and looking online, this may well be my dream reflection spot too, as the Black Hills behind are very picturesque… normally (!!)

Mobile photo of Torren Lochan as it was in January,

Glenfinnan, Castle Stalker and Corpach

Scotlands Highlands 2020: Part Twenty Three

14 & 15 August 2020

The drive to Glenfinnan took just an hour, which was really pleasant, and the whole way I was excited to see this highly iconic location, made famous by the Harry Potter films. This is SO well photographed here, that I wasn’t expecting any original shots, but I did hope I might be able to at least capture the gorgeous steam train, the Jacobite, for myself.

I started off parking in the National Trust car park and had a look around for any pay and display signs, only to discover there was no overnight parking allowed. This was going to cause me an issue. I wanted an evening and morning shot if I could, but if I couldn’t stay here, I needed another plan. I got back into Fred and drove up and down the road for a bit but no other possible parking spots caught my eye. There was literally nowhere to park BUT the NT car park! Then I noticed a car driving into an open bit of land next to it, and followed to investigate. Here I found some rough land where there were a couple of campers and several other cars parked up. I looked around and saw a sign asking for donations to stay here. I was happy to pay a bit to these people because this was far more suited to my needs. I believe they were hoping to build a car park with the funds… if so, I can only hope that they are going to allow overnight stops in an Aire fashion, because that’s what is needed here.

Glenfinnan Viaduct from the path up to the viewpoint

After I was parked up, I decided to go for a wander, and headed towards the viaduct. As I began my walk the first thing I saw was the Jacobite steaming across it in the distance! It looked fabulous, so I excitedly followed the pathway closer. As I got to the bottom I took a few photos of the viaduct itself -built in 1897/98 by Robert McAlpine & Sons and carrying the railway line from Fort William to Mallaig – and then I headed up to the viewpoint.

Here I sat with a bunch of people for the next hour or so, waiting to see if the train might return. It didn’t, but I learned that it passes through here only 4 times a day, once in each direction in the morning, and then again 4 hours later in the afternoon. It clearly is more of a tourist trip than a regular train ride with a frequent timetable as I originally thought. Once I knew the times however, I planned to be back here first thing, to hopefully get the iconic picture I dreamed of! I went back to the camper for some dinner, and then took a short walk to the Glenfinnan Monument that is also near this location. The light was failing by now, with no strong colour in the sky, so I just planned a position to take some photos for tomorrow, and went back to the camper to settle down for the night.

In the morning I was up bright and early, and took the hike back to the viewpoint. I was one of the first here, and there was at least an hour to go, but the area started to fill really quickly. As more people arrived, so did the heat for the day, and we were all plagued horribly by hungry midges. None of us wanted to move though, steadfastly hanging onto our precious spots that clearly became more precious as each minute passed. Eventually we were rewarded with the sound of a steam train chuffing in the distance… and then it appeared! It looked awesome from this spot, but to my disappointment, the daytime heat meant that the beautiful plume of smoke I hoped for, wasn’t visible. I snapped a constant stream of pictures anyway (see header pic) just so that I could at least get something that reminded me of this magical moment. The train slowed and tooted, released a big bit of (invisible) steam, and the driver and fireman both gave us all a big hearty wave before the Jacobite picked up speed again and chuffed off on its way to Mallaig. Something about all of this was highly magical despite the pictures not being perfect. If you are ever here in the summer months, (the train runs from April to October) I highly recommend coming just for this!

Glenfinnan and Loch Shiel from further up the path from the viewpoint

Everyone began to wander away, and I headed up further on the path, finding a fantastic view of the whole valley with Loch Shiel in the distance. There is another viewpoint, that goes up from the National trust car park (I think you need to pay to go on this walk though), but I didn’t take that today, and will try that one next time I am here. I suspect it’s better for photography than this one, with the monument and the loch more central to the view, but I was happy with this sight for today. As I stood taking in the view, I considered what I wanted to do with the rest of the day. I was disappointed in there not being any smoke, so it seemed a good idea to try again a bit later, but maybe from the other side – and so, as I had about 4 hours to kill, I decided to have a casual walk all around, and to go and see the monument in more detail.

The Glenfinnan Monument, erected in 1815, commemorates all those that died during the Jacobite rising in Scotland in 1745. The rebellion started here with a gathering of the first clansmen who awaited the arrival of (‘Bonnie’) Prince Charles Edward Stuart and raised their standards in support of his claim to the Scottish throne. The figure on top of the monument is of a generic Scottish clansman, representing all who joined in support, and was added a little later in 1835.

Monument to the Clansmen who died in the Jacobite uprising of 1745

You can visit, and climb to the top apparently, even standing next to the clansman, but as we were still in the midst of the Covid pandemic, it was closed to the public today. For me, this was probably a bonus, as getting this photo tourist free might be a much greater challenge normally. I preferred the morning light on the monument too, as the sun was now shining on the clansman’s face rather than on his back. With the hills behind in contrasting lights behind him, this was a much better photo for me than the snap I had taken the night before. I took River for a casual paddle in Loch Shiel and then gently wandered back to Fred for a spot of lunch.

After this I made my way back to my second viewpoint, and fell in love with the view from this position. It looked incredibly beautiful from this side of the glen, with more of the mountains visible from this side, and the viaduct setting clearly visible and aesthetically pleasing to the eye. I could see all the crowds beginning to gather in the spot I was at this morning, and was quite amazed at just how many people the spot attracted. As I waited the familiar sound of a chuffing steam train approached, and I relished the fact that I was here all on my own on this side. I think I am much happier with the shot from here too, although as the train slowed to toot its horn, the steam at that point evaporated to nothing very quickly. The best steam came before it slowed I feel.

The Glenfinnan Viaduct in its full setting

Once the train left, the crowds on the other side started to leave, but I waited… and sure enough, 10 minutes later, this mornings train came through on its return journey. I took a few photos of this one too, until I realised the locomotive was back to front. I hadn’t realised steam trains did that!

Once this train left, I made my way back down and looked at leaving myself. I really liked Glenfinnan, and I am sure there was a lot more to explore here, but for now, I was just playing tourist. Next time, I will plan on stopping longer if I can, and to really have a deep look into the area. I really hope this car park is still here when I do! I looked at my map, and realised that most of this section of my tour was pretty complete, so I decided to see if I could take a leisurely drive down to Castle stalker, and see if I can get an evening or dawn shot of that.

I did the drive, taking a thoroughly enjoyable 2 and a half hours getting to Portnacroish at 6pm, but I really struggled on where to park. I found ‘Castle Stalker View’ on the hill before the road wound down closer to the castle. It had a view overlooking the loch alright, but it was too high for what I hoped for. I drove to a lower spot, but there was nowhere to pull over, except at ‘The Old Inn’, which had a tiny car park for patrons only. Beyond that it looked to be a private road to some cottages. After I drove up and down for a little bit, I didn’t know where to go, and in the end, feeling a little frustrated, I just left! I wasn’t sure WHAT I could do! If anyone knows where to park for a photo lower down, please let me know!

With only Corpach still on my list to do, I drove back there in the hope that I could at least get the shots here that I wanted. It took another hour of driving and I got there just as the sun was setting. I grabbed my camera and headed to the canal lock quickly, realising when I got there, that I had mere seconds before the sun would be gone, I didn’t try to get any closer to the boat because of this, and instead grabbed the only shot that I could, without loosing this light. It looked SOOOO beautiful with all the colours tonight, but it was already fading!

Corpach Basin on Loch Linnhe looking at Ben Nevis

…and then it was gone. I considered going to the boat and taking the shot there, but the light looked flat already, and I was very uninspired. Did I want to try the lighthouse shot… well, no, not really. The water wasn’t smooth because of the ripples here tonight and nowhere near reflective enough for the shot I had in mind there, so I left that too. I went back to the camper realising suddenly how tired I was now, and decided that I would simply have some tea and check out the next highest tide for the dawn shot. It looked like the best time for this was actually going to be in 2 days… so I stopped here for the night and planned a different location for tomorrow instead.

Glen Affric, Fort Augustus, Bridge of Oich and Invergarry…

Scotlands Highlands 2020: Part Twenty Two

14 August 2020

I awoke in the morning to mist, but readied myself anyway and headed off to find the spot to photograph this morning. I found a nice picnic area just at the top of Loch Beinn a’ Mheadhoin, and spotted through the trees, what appeared to be, a glass like, still water. I parked up quickly, grabbed my kit and ran to the waters edge full of such excitement that I was like a small child! I have wanted a water like this for SOOOO long!!! This view was stunning, and incredibly peaceful. The trees to the other side of the loch were hazy due to the lifting mist, but the trees nearer were now clear. Everything looked perfect. This wasn’t the snowy tipped mountain reflection I always dreamed of – but oh my wasn’t this pretty! I had the tripod in my hand already, and set it up quickly whilst being tickled in the face as I did… ah… yes… here were our friends coming to check out their breakfast… I tried. I tried really hard… but within seconds of stopping moving, and trying to set the camera up, I was swamped. The midges were on my face, in my ears, up my nose, and one in my eye, and it just got a bit too much… no amount of flailing would dissuade them, and eventually I ran away… I kept coming back, and doing the next bit of the camera set up, and finally managed a couple of photos before I remembered that a few days back, I had purchased a midge head net. I ran back to the camper, and picked it up clearing my head area completely of the biteys before throwing it on… and… there it was… a moment of total bliss this morning…

I tried to continue, but then struggled to manually focus through the netting so had to keep lifting it. (guess which daft idjit forgot there’s such a thing as AUTOFOCUS – duh!!!) This of course let the biteys in. And so the battle continued for an hour like this. Eventually a breeze began to flutter across the surface of the loch, and the glass reflection was no longer there, so I packed up and left, with around 10 photos for my mornings efforts.. I caught it though, and an really pleased to have this as a reminder of how peaceful it actually was at the start…

Glen Affric reflection. What a beautiful peaceful place.

Once safe in the camper I decided to leave Glen Affric for another (midge free) time. I left and looked at touring round some of the other Loch Ness sites, before heading out further west. My first stop was Fort Augustus, and I wont lie, its not quite for me. It didn’t help having a really unpleasant experience at the Monster Fish and Chip shop as I drove through on my very first day. Less said about that the better, but needless to say I wont ever visit that chip shop again, and I think that, sadly, it tainted this whole town for me. I did stop off for about an hour despite my negativity about the place, but although the view of the Caledonian Canal locks might have been nice on another occasion, today, with a now harsh sunlight and no water pouring gracefully over them, the view was severely lacking. I left and moved on completely uninspired, but pleased I had at least taken a look.

I started the drive towards Invergarry castle, but 10 minutes into it realised I was both hungry and thirsty, so pulled over at a spot where I noticed people having a picnic. As I enjoyed a quick snack, I saw I was in a central point (island area?) over the Caledonian Canal, but not yet over the river Oich. It was really pretty here with lovely open views of Loch Oich. Next to me was an older bridge built in 1854 spanning just the river section (now only for foot traffic) It was built after floods swept the old stone bridge away some 5 years earlier. I didn’t explore too much, but grabbed a picture on my phone to mark in my diary for reference. I think in a less harsh light this might be a really nice spot. I noted it for the future, and took a quick walk across, just to have done it. A nicer photographic position might have been from the opposing side, down on the bank, because as I continued my drive, it actually looked really nice seeing the whole span in one.

I moved on to find Invergarry castle. I didn’t really know much about this one, but had randomly saved a picture of an old painting showing it from the waters edge. When I arrived at where google maps told me it was, I found myself pulling into a drive of what looked like a big country mansion. This left me feeling a little odd, and like I was trespassing, but the castle is near the entrance, so I don’t think this was a problem. When I saw the castle, I realised this visit might be another bust. I couldn’t find a way down to the waters edge, not that there would have been much of a view I suspect, as all the back between the castle and the water was heavily overgrown. The castle ruins only had a bit of a square tower left, and what was here was surrounded by trees and bushes on 3 sides, so it was very hard to get an interesting view sadly. Instead I grabbed one shot on my phone as best as I could, and had to leave here. There wasn’t much else I could do, as there were no information boards, and no other viewpoints. My stop had barely been a 10 minute one… I was quite sad.

So, What now? It was only 2.50, and with so much of today failing me, I had to look at my map for another location to try! I had Loch Morar on there, but it was a bit of a distance away. I considered it further however – maybe an evening shoot, an overnight and a dawn shot of, hopefully, another still loch…? (yes, I know – in the beautiful full sun of today I totally forgot that the midges would also be there!) It seemed like a good idea, and the few photos I had seen showed a pretty and tranquil loch, so I decided that I would simply enjoy a nice casual drive, and try this one. At 3pm I left Invergarry castle and headed off, following the sat nav along the A82 and then the A830. An hour and a quarter later and I pulled over in a long layby to visit the loo. Another car had pulled over here and the driver was snapping some photos of the view. We were high up overlooking Loch Eilt here, and the view had a small island smack in the middle of some trees. It looked nice from the van, but I continued the drive, as I had no idea how much further I had to go.

I followed the road round until I came to Mallaig, and here the road seemed to just stop. Confused I pulled over and re checked the route, and to my disappointment, I had completely misread the instructions… from here it seemed I was supposed to take a ferry round a head point to Tarbet! I was gutted – there didn’t appear to be a road around the loch at all! I had just driven for 2 and a half hours for nothing! I allowed a few minutes for the disappointment to set in, then realised that I had actually fully enjoyed the stress free drive itself, so didn’t punish myself any further. Instead I briefly checked the map again to be sure I hadn’t misunderstood, and simply considered my next options. The day was glorious, the views gorgeous, and the pace of the drive had been super chilled and relaxed, would I enjoy it as much as I retraced all the route back? Of course I would, and on the way, I vowed to snap my own photo of the spot I had stopped at.

When I arrived back there, I decided this might make a nicer view at some other time. For now, the sun only hit the hills behind so it was putting the main focal point into shadow, making an image that was lacking in any real interest to me right now. (I should have jumped out earlier!) A phone photo was fine for now though, and again, this was going to be a record for a later addition to the map. It felt like today was very much a recce day so far!

It was nearly 6pm, so I wanted somewhere else to view, and hopefully stop the night. The closest to me here, was one I had planned to spend a day at anyway. Glenfinnan. So off I went, hoping that getting there early wouldn’t be a problem…

Suidhe Viewpoint, Invermoriston, Falls of Divach and Plodda Falls.

Scotlands Highlands 2020: Part Twenty One

13 August 2020

Today was a real pendulum, swinging from low to high!

In the morning I awoke looking forward to the shoot at at the Suidhe viewpoint, but to my utter disappointment I found nothing but mist outside the van. Instead, I slept in further and woke up a few hours later. It was still very flat, although the fog had mostly gone, so I debated whether I should stay put or move on. I had no set plans for today, but I really didn’t fancy just sitting here, so I pulled up my ‘My Maps’ and had a look to see what was nearby. I was just south of Loch Ness, but almost directly over the other side of the loch, was Invermoriston. This looked promising for a grey day, so I sorted myself out with breakfast etc., and took a casual drive round to there. I drove through Fort Augustus, and round the bottom of the famous Loch, trying to keep my eyes open for anything that looked interesting. Loch Ness is a really big loch, so big that the grey sky just made it look like a boring mass of featureless water. From this side, it didn’t really have anything to make it look stunning as I might have hoped – no mountainous backdrop, or small islands to break the water up. I am sure there might be a way to capture this loch, but I suspect it would be with smaller features rather than a great big vista. I kept my eyes peeled as I drove around the waters edge. Urquhart castle might have worked, I considered that as I drove past there before, but there was no where to pull over (a problem I noted most of the drive up from Fort Augustus) except for their own car park… and I wasn’t sure if that was for visitors only, and if I had to pay an entry fee for that privilege (I didn’t want to go into the castle…). With the traffic fairly busy on this stretch of road, I couldn’t stop and dither, so I had just kept going. I didn’t get as far as Urquhart on this drive, but I did try and keep extra vigilant for any other sight that might work for me. None leapt out.

At 10.30 I rolled into Invermoriston’s generously sized car park. Right next to this was a bridge and a forest walk, so I took a quick explore here. I walked first to the bridge, and although the road was fairly busy this morning, I stood and looked first one side, then the other, immediately warming to this location. One side had a gorgeous looking stone summer house overlooking the river and some small falls, and the other had an old double arched bridge, built by Thomas Telford (the third bridge I have come across built by him!) with some further small falls beyond. Excited by these two views, I took River back to the woodland walk, and started towards the summer house first. The forest floor itself was beautiful here, full of rust coloured pine needles, and very soft underfoot, and the gentle trek to the summerhouse took no time at all. This was built as a folly by an old laird of Glenmoriston, who built this as a viewpoint for his guests to watch the salmon on their annual migration up river. The view from here was gorgeous, so I took my camera out and shot the scene through one of the windows towards the two bridges. Although it was cloudy for me today, I imagine this view would look amazing with dappled sunlight dripping through the trees…

From here I walked down the path a little, just following the river, then after practising videoing some vlog ‘b’roll (you never know, I might actually make a proper video for all of you of all these visits!) I went back to the road, crossed over and explored the old Telford bridge. I took a photo of the Summerhouse from here (header pic) and turned my camera to the waterfall that flowed the other side. It looked wonderful, but again, I really wished a little light had fallen on it so it would really come alive. Even in grey light though, this location didn’t fail to impress.

Invermoriston Falls upstream from the Telford Bridge

From here I noticed that there were some other falls nearby that were on my list, so once I was finished with these areas I packed everything up, and decided that I might try and find Divach falls. I started off taking a wrong turn somewhere, then re routed myself, and ended up driving up some tight hairpin turns to the road where the very small car park was. It was a little tricky in places, I won’t lie, but it was also strangely fun to have to keep holding my breath and squeeze through tight spaces with the (thankfully occasional) oncoming vehicles. Once parked up however, I was highly relieved, and left the van with River feeling in desperate need for some fresh air. The walk was fairly quick, but very pleasant, the falls were… well… quite frankly… not worth it. I was really disappointed to realise that the summer trees blocked most of the view, and although there was a really nice small area to sit and take in the sight, the view of the waterfall was minimal and didn’t grab me in the slightest… and I truly LOVE a waterfall. I didn’t even bother to take the camera bag off my back, it was that uninspiring – however I did take one photo with my phone just for reference to myself. What I had hoped for, was a way down to the bottom of the falls to get a better, unobscured view. Up here there was a fence blocking any chance of that, and they hadn’t carved any steps down from here to help.

I walked a little of the way back, and noticed a lightly worn path going down to the left. Maybe this was the route to the bottom I wondered, deciding to follow along. It wasn’t long before the path disappeared however, and I ended up battling bushes and branches, getting into several tight areas that all just led to a steep drop. It was a hopeless experience, and I resigned myself to having to head back up to the main path… IF I could find it again…!! I had no idea where I was!! Lost, I basically headed in an upwards direction until I heard voices. Then I followed the sound as much as I could, crawling under one especially big branch, and getting my camera bag snagged most of the rest of the route. Eventually I found a path and hoped it was the correct one! I followed it left and after a few minutes passed a couple heading towards me. I asked if this was the way back to the car park, and on their confused ‘yesss…?’ thanked them and trotted on my way. I didn’t fancy explaining that I had just gone on an embarrassing off trail route into the woods, getting lost for a pointless cause…

Falls of Divach. These had such a restricted view 🙁

As I had no other serious plans, and I was already on the Invernessshire leg of my trip I decided that before I went much further, I really should change my portaloo cassette and grey water before I continued, so I went on a long leisurely drive back to Highland Campervans. I didn’t know anywhere near Loch Ness where I could do a service stop, and at least I knew what the deal was with these guys. At Highland Campervans, I had a chap explain the water release cap. I had battled with this for an eternity… ending up regularly wedging it off with a screwdriver where I couldn’t remove it, and I have been snapping the lock-in lugs in the process. Turns out you put the key in, hold the cap while turning the key, THEN turn the cap, and out it comes… who knew?!!! Apparently if it keeps spinning, you haven’t unlocked it – Ohhhhhhh…… (yes, I felt totally stupid… but there we go… that’s pretty par for the course for me really!)

While in the car park, I went back to my map to try and work out a route for the rest of Inverness-shire, and closest to me that I fancied right now was Glen Affric. There were a couple of spots I wanted to see, but mostly I was most curious about Plodda Falls. Another waterfall… I really hoped the view here was a better one…(!!) I went on another leisurely drive and found myself driving up a long forestry commission road to the car park near the falls. Excited for this one, I parked up, looked at the map on the board, spotted a sign that said ‘to the falls’ and walked in that direction… and walked…. and walked. Eventually I had to stop and listen, and I realised that I couldn’t even hear the river any more. I realised I must have gone wrong somewhere, so had to trudge all the way back up the hill I had hiked down. In the corner of my eye I spotted a figure that made me jump for a second, and when I turned I spotted this:

Horseman of the apocalypse roaming the woods of Glen Affric

Looking to all intents and purpose like a wild horseman of the apocalypse, I had to stop and take a picture. It didn’t look like it was a sculpture, or even a deliberate gathering of dead wood and twigs, but the grasses and moss couldn’t have been growing any more perfectly to give this creepy image!

When I was most of the way back up the hill (!!) I spotted a small red arrow on a tiny post and decided that I would follow this. I checked on google maps, and it did seem to indicate that I was standing at a path that was going to lead to the falls, so off I went. I got to a T junction, turned right, and ended up going downhill again… I found a viewing point at least, but what it was a view of, was beyond me, as I couldn’t see anything specific (trees..?) I was at the river at least, so decided to follow the route back again and see where the left turn of the T junction might lead me. This time I was successful, and I found myself at the top of some fall. I was very confused though, as these were definitely not the ones in pictures I had seen online. I decided to pause here for a bit to let River have a paddle in the waters, and to take a photo here, before following the path further. This lead to a viewing platform, so I very gingerly started across it, before I realised a) how high it overhung the falls and b) how far it jutted out away from the path. This was the falls alright, but could I get to the end of the viewing platform? Nope.. Nope… NOPE!!! My brain screamed in terror and I had to gently walk backwards to solid ground and wait there for a bit for my heart to return to a sensible beat.

The path continued straight on. or, as I saw, to the left – so I followed that one, and found myself going downhill. It was very steep, but the route was pretty clear, and before I knew it I was at the waters edge sharing the space with several tourists. A young couple were just leaving, and I spotted another couple coming towards me across the river, carefully stepping on some large stones that made a good route across. Once they were my side I decided to go the same way over, but I found myself really struggling with some of the larger steps across. I couldn’t quite work out why, but I battled to balance properly on these rocks. Eventually I had so much trouble, I literally couldn’t get the last quarter of the way over. I was stuck. Standing uncertainly and wobbling fearfully on a stone in the middle of the fast flowing river, I felt lost, confused and really embarrassed. A French family on the other side saw my struggle, and bless him, a man in the group made his way across with a big stick, offering it to me so that I could balance easier. This was such a massive help! I made it the rest of the way, and thanked him profusely. The family left shortly after, and I was really pleased to find I had the place entirely to myself. I made my way to the bottom of the falls and my breath was taken away with the sight.

A huge fall (over 150 feet if I am reading things correctly online) left the cliff in one long stream of water to a deep pool (I assume, as I couldn’t see from where I was standing here) then spilled out to some stunning smaller falls that lead to the river I had just crossed. The view was incredible. It took me a few minutes to just gaze at the sight before I became quickly aware that the light was beginning to go. It was 7.30pm.. and I had very little time to get this shot and get back out safely. I spent the next 45 minutes quickly grabbing shots, being pestered continually by midges. (Damn.. forgot these little sods!) In the end the midges and the light (or lack of) started to get to be too much to work with, and I packed up. There were other shots I wished I had gotten, but this was definitely a place I wanted to come back to, so I was content with the shots I had, and didn’t worry about the short time I had spent here.

Once moving the midges left me alone, and I very, very carefully made my way back across the river. Again, my balance was terrible, and I have since looked into this. It appears it’s a hazard many photographers face… and it is of course due to the unusual weight we carry on our backs to locations we aim to photograph. On flat even ground where we get a solid footfall, we don’t notice it, but on uneven terrain, where fine balance is necessary, it throws us off. I was so relieved to find it wasn’t just me getting too old for all this! Though I struggled to cross back, the stick proved to be a huge help again, and even after it snapped I continued using it as I clambered back up the steep slope. Its still in Fred to this day. Too short now to be of any further help, it serves as a reminder of the kindness of others, and the wonderful support you occasionally get from random strangers.

Carrbridge, Foyers Falls, and Suidhe Viewpoint

Scotlands Highlands 2020: Part Twenty

12 August 2020

This morning I left Moray. I didn’t bother revisiting the beach, but neither did I leave at the crack of dawn running away… I took my time, had breakfast, went for a short walk with River around the car park and then readied myself, leaving at 9.30. The relief I felt was surprisingly high, but I was a little more positive about my visit here. Moray will be on my list again, and next time, I would be better prepared. The drive in the bright sunshine was really pleasant and I took my time, enjoying the views, and rolling into my first location of the day, Carrbridge, a very comfortable hour later.

Carrbridge was on my list because it’s a nice bucket shot location with a really lovely and characterful old packhorse bridge. It was built in 1717, and is considered the oldest known stone bridge in the Highlands. It suffered severe damage in floods in 1839 but remained standing (just) when many others were washed away, and it now has barriers stopping people crossing because it’s not safe (not that it stops the determined!!) However, with a well positioned viewing point, and a perfect view from the modern bridge, it remains very photogenic from a number of positions. This is one visit I had really been looking forward to.

Carrbridge Packhorse bridge from the viewpoint.

When I left Fred with River to come and photograph here, I crossed a small park, chatted to a lady with her dog, and noted that even at this time of day, Carrbridge wasn’t heaving with tourists. The village didn’t seem very big, with a few shops, and a couple of coffee shops, only one of which was open. Perhaps it was still early for some, or maybe the lockdowns had still kept many people home… Either way, it meant that I had the bridge all to myself. 😀 The sun was really harsh, and the water very, very calm, so the pictures I took can, very easily, be improved on at some other time. With the river cutting through some trees in the background, I wondered how this might look in Autumn, with a greater water flow… I bet it’ll be gorgeous at that time of year! I took some pictures from the view point…(well OK… I might have hopped the barrier and sat by the waters edge for a few shots) and some from the modern bridge. I felt the best shots came from here, as the view of the tumbling waters were lovely from this angle, but not quite so obvious from lower down. Both were lovely spots to take in this gorgeous structure however.

From the road, you can see the tumbling waters much better.

Looking at the height of the bridge, one wonders on the levels of the flood waters that damaged it back in 1839. They must have been quite horrific to the villagers here at the time! With my musings and photos done, I went to the only coffee shop open, and had a quiet coffee while River lapped at a bowl of water they gave her. I then peacefully returned to Fred, and drove onto my next destination. In all, this very gentle and casual visit took just 2 hours, and River was being a very good girl today, so my stress levels were returning to normal.

My next stop was Foyers falls. It rang a bell with me, and didn’t at the same time. I assumed this was because of the amount of research I had done for this trip. However, when I arrived, I recognised it instantly. I had visited here in 2012 with the children! At the same time, it confused me a little. The picture I was hoping to recreate was that of a bridge over a nice big fall (see header pic) I didn’t remember seeing a bridge here though… I parked up down the road as the car park was full, and walked back up to where the short but steep hike started. As I arrived back to the car park, I saw a stream of cars parked inconsiderately in the road letting their passengers out. They were clearly one big group, but the cars were struggling to park anywhere sensible, so basically just stopped in the road, blocking all the traffic behind them, as oncoming cars tried to navigate around the sudden influx of pedestrians. This is where tourism gets a bad name… behaviour like that. It wouldn’t have taken the drivers much effort to find a safe spot to park up a little further up or down the road like I did, or to have unloaded passengers in the car park before leaving to find somewhere else to park. I silently rolled my eyes and kept my thoughts to myself, as I started the walk down to the viewing point.

Down here the Falls looked very impressive, but there’s really only one good spot to take a photo. I took it of course, but definitely couldn’t see the bridge over the falls at the top. The original old photo I hoped to re create , taken (as I now now know) in the 1880’s by photographer George Washington Wilson, must have been taken somewhere else along here… so I decided to go on a hunt.

I hiked down as far as the lowest view point, just in case it was an optical illusion, and the bridge was lower down… nope… definitely not here. So I hiked back up and decided to try and follow the river along to see if there was an ‘upper falls’. When I think of it now, for a ‘non explorer’, this certainly was exploring wasn’t it?! (Woo – go me doing the thing!) I ended up walking a distance but finding nothing. The best I found was a bridge over a drop, but the water was little more than a dribble, and there didn’t seem any way to get down the sides, which were heavily overgrown, to get to the base of the dribble. Confused, I went back to the camper, dropped River and my camera bag inside, and decided to ask in the tourist shop to see if they knew the spot in the photo. After looking at it while, the older man did. Then he told me a brief history of this location, telling me all about the Hydro electric scheme that had taken water from the falls to supply electricity. It dropped the strength of the water to the falls, he told me… so the waters rarely ran that strong any more – which in turn meant the upper falls were really small, almost non existent sometimes. It turns out that the bridge I stood on WAS in fact, the bridge in the old photo, and the dribble… well that was the result of the electric board’s re routing. This actually made me feel really sad. Progression has a painful price sometimes, but at least they left enough to keep the lower falls looking magnificent. I did wonder though – how awesome must Foyers lower falls have looked at full strength?!

This photo betrays the full size of these falls – this is actually a huge 140ft drop!

After my disappointment at the falls here, it seemed a little pointless to keep pursuing the hunt so I decided to leave here and travel to my next location.

This one was a little vague to me as I drove, but when I arrived at the rough spot on the B862 I spotted clear areas to park in a nice long layby, and a well worn path to the viewpoint. I parked up happily (in a large puddle!) and took River, and all my kit, for the hour and a half trek – it didn’t feel remotely like I walked for that length of time however, as it was a most enjoyable hike! This was the first vista sight I had actually visited, with my fitness level denying me the choice of high mountain hikes, and I was not at all disappointed… well, I was, but not with the view, which was absolutely gorgeous. Sadly the sun was glaring right in my face so all the photos I took had ugly sunspots all over them, and only one that I took with my mobile actually proved save able. This was a morning shot for sure I felt, so I planned to stay the night here, and re hike up for dawn. I imagined that the light coming from the other side would light up the mountains perfectly, which was more the view I hoped for. After I sat for a while taking the whole vista in, I ambled back to the camper, and at the roadside bumped into an older chap on a motorcycle. We stood and chatted for ages where he was so incredibly fascinating. He told me all about his worldwide travels on his motorbike, and how he had lived a free life for many years that way. He met his wife abroad and they continued travelling together for years before she departed this world, and he has now, only recently, settled in Scotland. He still yearned for the road however, and as we discussed my camper-life, I could see he had many fond memories of the freedom it brought.

View of Loch Tarff from Suidhe viewpoint.

After he left, I repositioned Fred for the night, and cooked myself some dinner. As I did, I spotted a number of wild deer wandering around the field near me. This felt so perfect here…

Lossiemouth, Duffus Castle, and Findhorn

Scotlands Highlands 2020: Part Nineteen

10 and 11 August 2020

I was a real grump bag today.

No idea why. I slept really well, although I woke up several times, finally waking at 4am and looking out to see the sky was full of cloud. Dawn wasn’t worth getting up for this morning, and I went back to sleep for a few more hours. Maybe it was the broken sleep, maybe I had physically done enough, but everything was getting really hard. Bending/crouching was really hard, just getting motivated was hard, my back ached, my foot hurt, and I really couldn’t focus properly. I felt like both my body and brain were ceasing up.

Saying all that, I started off chill and just taking my time cleaning up, doing some laundry and so on, so I wasn’t feeling particularly stressed. Once ready, Lossiemouth and Duffus castle were on my list for today, and I hoped to end at Findhorn for the evening, so I headed off feeling fairly good. I arrived at Lossiemouth and started off by taking River for a long walk near the harbour, and onto a beach there (East Beach) It was quite pretty here and I devoted all my time to her, rather than to some photography, although in hindsight I wish I had gone back with my camera, as the view was nice enough to get some shots I think. (Phone snap in header) Once River had enjoyed a good walk, I popped into a few shops, got a few gifts, treated myself to an ice cream, (Yum!) and then went back to the camper to continue my day. From here things seemed to start deviating from the plan… and a debilitating downward turn soon took hold.

I hoped to find some awesome looking caves that photographer Kim Grant had mentioned in her video https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2sCLEkupBrI&t=563s&ab_channel=KimGrant (8.40 minutes in) and I think near there were also some stunning rock formations that I had seen in some photos (possibly from above the cave section). This should have been quite lovely, but no matter how I tried, I just couldn’t find the caves I liked, nor the rock formations. All I found was one long sandy beach. This left me very disappointed and confused. I tried to park at the lighthouse to get a shot of that at least, but their car park was closed off today and nearby land was owned by the RAF and a touring park, so I struggled to find anywhere else to park. Instead, I went back to Lossiemouth and decided to walk to the Lighthouse from there, to check out the caves that were apparently underneath it. I had the gut feeling they weren’t the ones I wanted, so I left all my kit behind and just walked the route. I am so glad I did because not only were they NOT the ones I hoped for, with all the beautiful colours and lines in the varying rock shapes, but the walk took over an hour. Just there. And the same back. Don’t get me wrong, this beach was great for holidaymakers, absolutely beautiful. There were no rocks to hurt feet, its a huge expanse of gorgeous gentle sand, and the water was lapping so gently in the sun, it was a perfect holiday day out. There was little to my eye to photograph though, although I did find a curious looking purple jellyfish just at the waters edge. I sent a snap to the family WhatsApp group, because I had only ever seen clear jelly fish before and I thought this one looked really pretty!

My grand daughter replied with one she found on google, a Pelagia noctiluca, also known as mauve stinger purple stinger, purple people eater or nightlight jellyfish. (On reading ‘Purple People eater’, I confess I did step back a little…LOL!!!) I looked it up myself later and this is more likely to be a Cyanea Lamarckii or ‘Blue jellyfish’ which likes the colder waters off the Scottish coasts apparently. Although I confess, the idea of a jellyfish that glows in the dark sounded absolutely beautiful so maybe its a shame it wasn’t the purple people eater! With little else to see or do for the two hour walk, all I could do was think – which in part was nice, but it also gave me far too much time to mull over the frustrations I had struggled with today. By the time I got back to Fred, I had lost all my focus, and had no clue where to look or go to next. I tried to think of a different location to get me excited but none took my fancy. So, I went back to my original plan, settled back on Duffus Castle and full of disappointment, completely gave up on Lossiemouth.

The drive was quick, the location easy to get to, free to enter and open for anyone to go in, any time of day. This all picked me up a little bit. It was so nice to visit a complication free location today! From the car park, it looked really nice with the sun now out, and beaming on one side. I took a walk around with River, and found several boards telling me all about it, and some of its history that was so interesting I sent a video back to the kids to watch. It was the first motte and bailey castle I had seen, having learned about them from when my children were young and having to make multiple models for their homeworks.

River, however, was being very badly behaved and was extremely distracting. I got highly irritated by her constant barking at other people, and especially, other dogs, and where there were quite a few visitors here today, it got to be a little too much! Eventually I snapped and left her in the camper where she would offend no one. This time out, I took the camera. There was one spot in particular that I really hoped to get a photo from. One of the first images I saw of this location, was actually a painting, with the Castle in the back, and a small bridge in the foreground. I found the spot, but the moat was so overgrown with huge reeds and algae, that it was totally impossible to capture a photograph from the same position. That was disappointing enough, but when trying to take an image from the cobbled hump of the bridge instead, a whole bunch of people turned up and just kept getting into my shots. Eventually I gave up there, frustrated with my efforts. The sky wasn’t very pleasing anyway, with the sun directly in my eyes, just to add more agitation to the situation. I continued wandering around the edge of the moat where I captured a token image that, at the time, didn’t particularly excite me. (no idea why to be fair, I quite like the image now!) Seconds later, even that view was crawling with the bus load of visitors. In a completely disheartened mood by now, I just gave up and went back to the camper, trying to work out what was going wrong with me today. As I sat there I suddenly felt exhausted, and I decided that it might be best if I didn’t push it. I would see if I could go out for a nice sunset shot here, and perhaps just stay the night. After I settled on that plan, I completely flaked out.

Duffus Castle. My mood at the time left me dissatisfied with this shot, but I am not unhappy with it now.

When I awoke an hour or so later it felt quiet enough for River to come out, and I thought I might retry the cobbled bridge with a possible sunset. Unfortunately as each negative thing happened today, I’d felt more and more beaten, and even as I was setting up, I couldn’t get things to go right. The castle was still in a warm evening sunlight, but the sky was just really bland, with just a flat blue cloudless view. The sunset was clearly just going to be a pink strip on the horizon, as there were no clouds for it to bounce off. In my head all I could hear was ‘Why am I even bothering with this?!!’ A family appeared, walking with their two dogs, and River kept barking every time she caught sight of them. It was really hard to work with her constantly trying to run at them. Then, just as I was nearing the end of my tether, she decided that a dip in the stinky moat would be a good idea, and just wouldn’t listen when I called her to stop. Frustrated with everything, I was feeling like I was about to snap, so I packed everything away, hauled her out and made my way back to the camper totally dejected with today. When we got back, I was just packing the camera bag inside, when she barked nastily and went to lunge at a little kiddie on a scooter. She had NEVER behaved like that before, and in a mix of complete horror and despair, I grabbed her and threw her into the camper, shut the door behind us, and burst into tears. This had been the final straw today, and I was totally confused as to what was wrong with me, and everything.

I didn’t set foot outside again until long into the next day.

11 August 2020

I woke up this morning totally without aim. Thinking proved to be the most difficult thing, so I did what I needed to do. Absolutely nothing. The sky was a flat cloud, so there was no chance of a sunrise or dramatic shot here. When I looked at the map, nothing excited or drew me. So I left it all, and just chilled in Fred. I looked up why dogs bark in the way that River was, and read how to help control it. I then decided that today I would simply try to practice the techniques they suggested, and maybe try a simple shot at Findhorn later. Nothing more than that. I knew I needed a high tide for the shot I wanted of the tidal breaker – water moving around it, a long exposure, and a minimalist shot. Nothing too hard, a photo that had been done numerous times before, by other photographers, but a good practice for me for the minimal technique that I so loved. At 3, I left Duffus without having touched my camera, and by 4.30 I was parked up at Findhorn beach, having had a quick stop off at a small local store for a couple of supplies. High tide was in an hour, so I explored the beach a little and practiced the dog training ideas I had read, with River. If I saw a dog, I simply stood between her and the other dog, made her sit, and made her look at me until the other dog had passed. When she did as she was told, she got a treat. We did this continually with every dog, for the hour and she gradually got the hang of it, and stopped barking. By 6, she happily walked by the other dogs, with barely a sniff in their direction! (YAY!! Progress!) At high tide, I got myself back on the beach, and my heart sank yet again. The water was so low it didn’t even reach the wave breaker that I had come to photograph. (So much for ‘high‘ tide!) I snapped the pitiful scene with my phone, feeling complete and utter resignation. ‘Yep, that’s about right!’ I thought.

The final finger up from Fate on this day. High tide barely even touched the breaker, never mind cover it!

I turned around and walked right back to the camper. This was my only photo at Findhorn.

Bow Fiddle Rock, Craigmin Bridge, Craigellachie Bridge and Linn…

Scotlands Highlands 2020: Part Eighteen

9 August 2020

I awoke to the sound of a slamming door.

It was 4am, and time to take some pictures! I bounced out of bed (yes, I bounced! – and yes I know it was 4am… but that’s how dawn photography gets me sometimes…don’t judge!) I left River to sleep, and made my way down to the little cove to find the tide was 3/4 of the way in – or rather, as it transpired, a quarter of the way out. There were 5 other men on the beach with their cameras and tripods, including Older Gent, Camper Guy, and one that seemed to be a Pro. I wont lie, I felt I was a little late to the party! The sky was totally clear without a single cloud, so I found a spot in the middle of everyone, and took a few pre dawn photos. None of the guys were talking, and me being me, I tried to spark up light conversation by casually remarking that I felt a few clouds in the sky would have really made this shot, especially if the early sun could have caught them. The Pro immediately snapped back ” You don’t want much do you?!!”. I was a bit taken aback by this response, and several of the other guys threw him a sharp look to demonstrate their shock at the harsh retort. I remained silent after that – maybe this was why everyone was so quiet!!! As one fella moved his tripod behind me, he spoke kindly, and told me that the sun was due to rise in the arch of the Rock this morning, and we discussed how hard it was going to be to predict exactly where we needed to be standing to capture it in the right position. A little to the left… a little to the right…?! I was totally surprised, and excited, not least because of all the mornings I rock up – this is the one I pick! No wonder there were several of us here… but I was even more amazed to realise that this was the second time I had, by pure chance, turned up at a location where both the sun and the sky were perfect for a rarer dawn shot. (the first time was at Durdle Door in 2019). When the sun did appear, I was the lucky photographer in the perfect spot… however, despite the growing anticipation as the minutes to sunrise approached, I found myself quite decidedly underwhelmed. As it emerged over the horizon it looked a bit, well… pants if I was honest! On top of this, all my shots suffered from ugly lens flare spots, and the tide was well on its way out. This morning didn’t seem to be panning out as I hoped and I was terribly confused as to why it wasn’t working for me. I looked at Pro – but didn’t dare ask for his advice (!!) He snapped a few pictures, then spotted a girl coming down the beach, who, from what I could gather from their loud conversation, had previously been on a workshop run by him. He quickly finished up, and after chatting for a while, left with her. The rest of us tried several shots in a few positions around the small beach, but one by one, as the sun rose above the Rock, everyone drifted off, happy, I assume, with their shots. I kept trying, but no matter what I did, I ended up chronically frustrated and disappointed. The pre dawn shot was definitely my favourite.

I loved this early morning shot… SO much nicer than the actual moment of sunrise one for me.I finally left here and tried to find an interesting looking derelict cottage overlooking the ocean that I had seen in another snap by someone else. I drove up and down roads in the area but couldn’t pinpoint it, and ended up instead at Findlater castle a little further along the coast. I parked up in a small car park, and decided to simply take River for a nice walk in the sunshine to help rid me of the mornings stress so far. This location was really nice, the walk being both beautiful and peaceful. When I got to it, the castle looked like it had disappeared into the rocky outcrop where it had become so derelict. it lacked any drama or real photographic interest from up here on the cliff, however, I suspect that a shot looking up from the beach (if it’s possible to get down to the little bay there) would really help make it look a little more imposing. The sun right now was very harsh though, and I just felt like a gentle explore from up here before I left to get to my next location, so I didn’t venture down there to check. Another mental note for a future visit was plotted in instead…

Next stop was Craigmin Bridge. Now here was a bridge I was excited to see in person. It looked to me like two bridges built one on top of the other, but there’s no recorded history so it’s unknown whether this was the case or whether it was built all at once with this unusual design. Parking proved a little difficult here since my sat nav kept trying to get me onto private land, but I found a spot and walked back to the beginning of an adorable woodland walk. The first bit had lots of really cute fairy houses dotted along the edges of the path, some obvious, many secret and hidden. It was great fun trying to spot them! The bridge was a bit further along from here, and you can cross it without even realising what you are standing on. I suspect many do! Just over the bridge there were small worn footpaths, one off to the left, and one to the right, so I explored the left one first. It took me down alongside the top tier of the bridge, and you can actually climb onto, and walk under, the twin arches of the upper level. I found a small room (no idea what that might have been used for!) and a small ‘corridor’ through the central column to the area under the second arch. I really wished I knew why it had been built in this fashion – it had me most curious! I couldn’t get down to the river from here so I headed back up and followed the right footpath down instead. This was a much nicer position, but disappointment hit again when I realised that much of the bridge was hidden by the trees, and the bit that was visible, was being whited out by the bright sun shining on it from this side. I tried anyway…

Craigmin Bridge. Not a great shot and it took a fair bit of editing to even out the light, but a fascinating shape to this bridge nonetheless.

I also wondered if this might be a better Autumn/Winter shot… do the leaves drop revealing more of the bridge?? – so this was also marked in my diary for a return visit alongside those marked so far on this trip (this list is growing quite extensively!!) I tried what I could anyway, finished the first side, re crossed the bridge, and dropped down a much steeper slope to try the other side. Once finished I returned to Fred and decided that I would now try a second attempt at the Cullen Skink. So far this morning hadn’t been particularly fulfilling, so I hoped a bit of food would help.

One of the things I really hoped to try in my travels, were some local dishes and treats. Cullen Skink had come recommended, and it peaked my curiosity, so it had been added to my list of things to try! I drove back to Cullen, and was really pleased to find a parking spot right outside Lily’s Kitchen Cafe… the spot in Cullen which came highly recommended by folks on the NC500 Facebook group as being the best, (award winning, no less) Cullen Skink. Well I was about to find out for myself – and wow – just WOW! In case you didn’t know Cullen Skink is a delicious creamy fish and potato soup, traditionally served with Scottish Oat Cakes (or you can have a bread roll if you prefer) and it was developed right here in Cullen in the North East Scottish coast. I had it as traditional as possible of course, with the oak cakes complimenting the soup perfectly – and I wont lie – it was gone in minutes and I was incredibly tempted to walk right back in and get a second helping! Fish worries me because of the bones, but there were none, and the smoky haddock complimented all the other flavours so perfectly, that I wished these guys were more local to me in Kent! I must work out how to make this for myself I think!

Lunch happily consumed, I decided to travel onto Craigellachie Bridge. The weather was glorious, beaming sunshine, not a cloud in the sky, and hot – boy was it HOT – so much so, the camper was turning into an oven!!! On arrival I found myself a parking spot, and tucked Fred under some trees in the vain attempt that the shade would cool the camper down, and I just took River out for a walk for a quick explore. This bridge was a single span cast iron one, built between 1812 and 1814, and was (at the time) a revolutionary design by the famous engineer Thomas Telford. It crossed the River Spey at a rather odd point where on the northern side, a rocky cliff forces a very tight turn. Lorries occasionally hit the striking mock medieval stonework it was so tight, but now, its just a pedestrian bridge and icon. (I read a rumour that the funding ran out, and so this was as far up the river as they could afford to take it!!) When I got down to the beach area, I found it packed with people, and even a few tents, which sadly turned it into a bit of an eyesore. A shot here right now would clearly be very complicated, so I just left it for now. River loved her paddle in the Spey however. The flowing water was gentle and she had no issues going for a long dip in the cooling stream. When she got bored of it, we went back to the camper and had a nap. The early start, the food and the hot sun had all taken their toll. I was asleep in seconds and out for nearly 2 hours. By the time I awoke, it was 5pm, the crowd had thinned and I decided I might try some shots anyway.

View from Cragellachie Bridge back towards the road.

Sadly, the sun was still harsh and the shadows cast, really unpleasant. After a few feeble efforts at pictures, I really wasn’t feeling it any more, so I gave up and decided to try a waterfall nearby instead. These bridges were proving far too frustrating today.Not too far away was Linn Waterfall, and as there were still a few hours of daylight left, I thought I would give this a try instead – after all, as a woodland location, this may be easier to photograph today with less sun over the scene, and more shade to keep us cooler. The walk to the falls was really lovely, and no-one was around. By the time I got to them there was just a touch of sunshine on the top bit, delicately lighting the view really beautifully, and magnifying the charm of the whole scene. It took me mere minutes to set up and start capturing this beautiful sight in front of me. As I concentrated on what I was doing, I suddenly realised that River was being terribly quiet, so I turned to see what she was up to – to see her intently watching what I was doing. I hadn’t seen her look at me like that before, and as I giggled at her expression, I quickly snapped a photo of her (header pic) before going over to pet her, and tell her what a good girl she was being. Maybe that was a bit premature – as I focussed on a new position a few minutes later, she suddenly dashed off into the woods barking madly as she ‘chased off’ another couple and their dogs (to my loud apologies!!)

Linn falls late into the evening as the last bit of sunlight filtered through the trees. A pure and blissful time spent here.

I finished there with just under an hour before the sun was due to go down – should I try another sunset at Bow Fiddle I wondered?? I hiked back to Fred at pace, drove back to the same spot as I stayed last night, and hotfooted it down to the beach. I didn’t notice any sunset as I drove, but I think I may have missed it by the time I got to the waters edge, as the sky had started to go a shade of blue I recognised as ‘Earth Shadow Blue’. I know this as a darker blue strip of sky on the eastern horizon – just under the pinkish section of a sunset (if the pink is present). If you have ever noticed that lovely rich, dark blue sky on a clear summers day, this is much flatter shade of colour than that, and this was the colour I saw on the horizon tonight. There were two other photographers here tonight, and though pretty sure I had missed the light, I still got my camera out just in case. The male photographer there wondered aloud whether we had missed the sunset, and I suggested that perhaps we had. The girl there however loudly declared that we hadn’t because the sky on the horizon was still blue, I didn’t contradict her since she seemed so sure, and I wasn’t 100% myself at that point. I did explain to the fella that I felt it was the ‘wrong’ blue (I forgot the correct term) and ten minutes later he left… I guess he agreed with me. I too packed my kit away, but sat for a while just soaking up the peaceful atmosphere, and watching the girl take her camera all over the scene. She was still there when I eventually left to go back to the camper. By then it had become clear to me that I had actually managed to read the conditions correctly, and that the sun had indeed, set. An absolute bonus I felt, because it meant I was actually learning and something had settled into this old noggin of mine!