Shetland December 2014

After rather too long a gap, I did finally get to spend a little bit of time taking pictures on Shetland before the Christmas holidays kicked in.

As you might expect at this time of year Shetland provided every sort of weather.

From snow at the start of the week, just enough to make the wee roads slithery.

Snow at Hays Dock, Lerwick

Big waves mid-week, big enough to make the bays look interesting but not enough to scare the planes.

Sunshine and Waves at Scat Ness
Waves breaking over Runway 09 at Sumburgh Airport
And lots of heavy rain showers later in the week, with the added bonus of lots of rainbows (even some doubles)

Waves and Rainbows - Quendale Bay
Shetland also provided not-much in the way of daylight.  In late December, on Shetland, sunrise is a bit after 9:00 AM, and sunset a bit before 3:00 PM.  Fitting in a morning walk and an afternoon walk (with lunch in between) becomes a bit of a challenge particularly if you’re trying to avoid wandering back along the beach in the afternoon darkness.  One of the bonuses is that in lighting terms (at least between 9 and 3, between the showers), it's always the 'golden hour', the sun never gets far above the horizon so the sunlight is always at a lovely low angle.

Low sunlight on Ocean Endeavour - Victoria Pier, Lerwick
The weather did do a bit to add some variety to the travel schedules.  On a couple of days the north-bound boat from Aberdeen only made it as far as Orkney, and some big thunderstorms (combined with snow – makes the lightning flashes even more dramatic) made landings at Sumburgh Airport a little bit entertaining.  My arriving plane did the fairly normal for Shetland (but still slightly unsettling) sideways approach down the runway, before turning straight just before touchdown to the accompaniment of lightning flashes.  Another plane coming in from Aberdeen was hit by lighting as it approached Sumburgh, and opted to turn round and head back to Aberdeen rather than trying again. This year at least the disruption to the boats wasn’t enough to force the supermarkets to charter cargo flights to provide emergency sprouts and turkeys for the folks of Shetland as has happened in the past.

The one climate-enabled spectacle that didn't put in an appearance while I was there were the Merrie Dancers (the Northern Lights). They did appear 24 hours after I left – maybe I’ll get to see them next month.

There are a few more pictures from this visit to Shetland on Flickr.

What's the Back Story?

One of the talks I give is a 'lottery lecture'.  I ask members of the audience to pick a tag from a bag which corresponds to one of the photographs I have with me.  I then spend a few minutes talking about the image they have picked, and particularly telling the back story of the picture.  In some cases it's about the subject of the picture, or what was involved in taking the picture or getting to the location. In other cases it's about the geography or history of the place, or (given that many of my images are from cold remote places) how those places are changing as the climate changes.

On lots of occasions these back stories are what people seem to take away from the presentation - and the stories do regularly provoke interesting questions and discussions.  One of the reasons that I am so enthusiastic about this sort of presentation is probably related to the fact that the backstory is what I look for when I'm looking at someone else's pictures.

Over the last few days I've had the chance to look at two parts of a fantastic exhibition of the work of Don McCullin, best known as a war photographer.  Before I go any further, I'm absolutely not putting myself anywhere near this league of photographer.  However, as I looked around the images on show in Fallen, I did start to wonder what the back story was to some of the images, and particularly some of the people in the images that McCullin had taken. I found it nearly impossible not to try and speculate about what had happened to the shell-shocked US soldiers in Vietnam or to the Cypriot villagers in the 1960s or (closer to home) the stone-throwing kids in Londonderry/Derry in the early 1970s.   Perhaps that's the power of a really strong people-picture.  It makes you think about what happened to the people both before and after the moment when the shutter was pressed.

If you happen to be on Shetland anytime before 22 February, do find time to get to either the Museum in Lerwick and/or the Bonhoga Gallery at Weisdale where the two parts of the exhibition Fallen are on show.  There's a huge amount to think about.

At the moment I'm trying capture the backstories that go with some of the images I've taken over the last five years. It won't be finished for this Christmas, but it might make it into print for next year.

If you'd like to invite me to give one of my 'Lottery Lectures', do get in touch

Still too Soon?

Oxford - 19th December a few years ago.
So when does Christmas start?

The retailers seem to think it’s shortly after the August Bank Holiday.  In any case, the shops and streets are dripping with Festival Cheer™ from far too early, and I have serious doubts about the ability of even the most heavily genetically-modified pine tree to retain its needles from 1st of December until the 25th.

I know  (my other half has told me)  that throughout December it’s really Advent, which is why we have those calendars with 24 little fragments of chocolate, and that Christmas really starts on the 25th. And I do thoroughly approve of the Danish tradition of putting up the Christmas tree on the 24th and celebrating from then.

However, the reality is that in the UK if you try and wait until the 24th to do the Christmas stuff, there won’t be a tree, mince pie or Brussels sprout  to be found anywhere.  So my suggestion is that we adopt another Scandinavian model  - the Icelandic one – and salute the arrival of the Yule Lads as our Heralds of Christmas.  They start to turn up on 12th December, which seems like a decent compromise.

Until then you can take your Christmas cards and Festive Cheer™ - and stick them up a chimney somewhere.

Humbug. But only until the 12th when I'll be happy to welcome Stekkjarstaur and his pals.

Christmas Artweeks 2014

I'm going to be taking part in Oxfordshire Artweeks next weekend. In November.  This might come as a surprise to you!

As I've been handing out flyers about the event this week I've been surprised that so many people didn't know about Christmas Artweeks.

This is a chance to revisit the artists you went to see in May, and to see what new stuff they've produced since the summer.  Or if you didn't quite get round to doing Artweeks this year, it's a chance to see what the fuss is all about.  And you might well be able to pick up some really special Christmas presents that you just aren't going to be able to find in the supermarkets!

Christmas Artweeks is a one-weekend-only event - this year on the 22nd and 23rd of November.

I'll be open from midday to 6pm on both the Saturday and Sunday, and I'll be showing new pictures from remote Scottish islands, and a selection of images of penguins and polar bears.  As well as mounted and framed prints (ideal Christmas gifts!), I'll also have lots of cards, calendars, mugs, keyrings and notebooks on sale.

I'm at 34 Stile Road, Headington, Oxford, OX3 8AQ.   Hope to see you at the weekend.

There is more information about other Headington artists on the Headington Artweeks website, and about all the Oxfordshire artists involved in Christmas Artweeks on the main Artweeks website.

North South Images Newsletter October 2014

The latest issue of the North South Images newsletter is now available.

This edition has images from my tour of remote Scottish islands during the late summer and early autumn.

This trip allowed me to build on a couple of trips to Fair Isle in the past, and let me spend time on both St Kilda and Foula.  These are two of the most remote islands in the United Kingdom. St Kilda hasn't had a 'real' population since 1930 - it now has an itinerant collection of National Trust for Scotland staff and volunteers and a small military detachment who get to monitor a little radar station.

Foula still has a regular, crofting, population which manages to keep going despite having to fetch all their shopping from the Shetland mainland 20-something miles across a pretty rough stretch of sea.

There is more about the visits to both St Kilda and to Foula elsewhere on the blog.

There is also a small selection of new images from Shetland - the early autumn was a great time for Shetland sunsets!

The newsletter is available either on Slideshare or as a PDF file.

The previous newsletters (from February and July 2014) are also still available

February 2014 - Slideshare - PDF
July 2014 - Slideshare - PDF

If you are interested in hearing more about people, places and wildlife in the far North or the far South, do get in touch.  I'm always happy to talk (and enthuse) about cold places in front of an audience, for more information contact me at

Alternatively, if you want to improve your own photography, I'd be very happy to provide assistance.  I run both 1:1 and small group photography sessions in/around Oxfordshire, or elsewhere by arrangement.

Again contact me on for more details.

Back to the Lakes

About a year ago I posted a blog entry about going back to places, my recent return visit to the Lake District really was taking this to extremes.

I used to visit the Lakes quite regularly when I was a student (and we’re talking 30 years ago).  I've got lots of memories of time spent camping or in youth hostels, and of usually being wet.  And I've got a few recollections of the sun shining and the lakes being mirror-smooth too.

I'm not quite sure why I stopped visiting.

I did get out of the mountains habit for a few years, and later on I got into the Scotland habit. If I was going to travel all the way from southern England, I might as well keep going into ‘real’ mountains.  I did get a bit put off by the images of the wide gravelled Lake District paths (“mountain motorways”?) with crowds of people on them, preferring the more remote (and emptier) mountains further north. Recently I've been re-finding the Lake District and adding some new memories (and better photographs) to the ones from the 1980s.

Despite having returned to both camping and hostels this year, we decided that for a two week visit we needed a self-catering cottage.  We stayed at the lovely Barn at Town Yeat in High Nibthwaite just beside the southern end of Coniston Water, and used that as our base to explore the southern part of the Lake District.

Antony Gormley statue at High Nibthwaite
An autumn essential - at The Barn
We spent lots of time around both Coniston Water and Windermere, along with a reasonable amount of walking often using chunks of the Cumbria Way as a starting point for circular walks.

Lots of Cumbria Way options
One of the pluses of Lakes that I'd forgotten is the sheer number of long-established paths, in the valleys at least its very difficult to get lost, and even if you do miss a turning there will be another one along soon to let you complete your walk without needing to backtrack.

On to Ambleside
As well as the walking we did spend plenty time just hanging about along the lake shores.

Sunny Bank jetty, Coniston Water
Water Park jetty, Coniston Water
We managed to arrange lots of warm sunny weather, and (probably by going in September) also managed to find lots of empty paths too.

Crowds on the paths.
So what is my advice for anyone contemplating a visit to the Lake District at this time of year? It is lovely as the autumn colours develop, but don’t forget your midge remedies (they aren't just north of the border) and take lots and lots of pound coins.  I don’t think there were so many pay-and-display car parks when I was frequenting the Lakes 30 years ago, and the theory of pay-by-card is, given the local mobile phone coverage, seriously dodgy.

Meeting the locals, Ulverston
Will I be heading back to the Lake District soon? Certainly will, it’s almost as good as Scotland and quite a lot closer.

Finding Foula

Foula - from the Shetland mainland
The guide books are quite clear. "There is no shop so enough supplies for your stay must be brought with you." Of course what they ought to add is "and you'd better bring extras 'cos the stay might be longer than you plan".

Travel to many of the wee islands around Scotland's coast is weather dependent, and Foula, about 20 miles off the west coast of Shetland, certainly is - even a short trip in summer runs the risk of starting or ending late.

I'd set myself the target of adding St Kilda and Foula to my remote island list this summer, and having visited St Kilda already, my next target was finding Foula.

The two islands always feel linked in some way, possibly as a result of Michael Powell's film The Edge of the World. When Powell wanted to retell the story of St Kilda's evacuation he asked permission to film there. When this was refused he adopted Foula as his St Kilda. There are parallels, both are way out west - St Kilda west of the Hebrides, Foula west of Shetland - so they get a similar battering from the North Atlantic. They have similar shapes - both have seriously big west facing cliffs and a rather more gentle eastern coastline.  However there are differences. On St Kilda all the houses are clustered together on a still-picturesque little street. On Foula the houses are dotted across the island on each croft, seemingly as far apart as they can be. The other big difference is that Foula still has a 'real' population and a service boat going there rather than tourist boats.

My visit to Foula started on a Saturday afternoon when I made my way to Walls on the west coast of the Shetland mainland. On the pier I met Magnus, who was both part of the boat crew and my landlord for my stay. The New Advance is the islands passenger/supply/mail boat, and at the moment (September 2014), when there are ‘issues’ with the plane service that usually flies to the island, is a critical lifeline.

The boat takes a couple of hours to chug slowly from Walls to Ham, the settlement on the island around the only, slightly sheltered, bay on the island.  The New Advance is a wee boat. It needs to be. After each crossing it gets lifted clear of the water so that it's less exposed to the storms that can sweep across the island. The tradition of hauling boats out of the water is well established around Shetland, lots of islands have traces of the noosts that were used to store boats overnight above the high water mark but not many are as sophisticated as the Foula dock.

New Advance out of the water, Ham Harbour, Foula
Once you get to Foula, you'll typically get a quick orientation. "That's the school, the nurse stays there and the post office is over there, it's open on Monday, in the morning."

While on Foula I was staying in Burns Cottage (just beside Da Crookit Burn - the crooked burn) in the middle of the island, roughly a mile from the northern edge, and two miles from the southern coast.  Magnus told me that he'd grown up in the cottage before moving to his current house overlooking the little harbour at Ham.
Burns Cottage, Foula
There is a road - only one - and the verges are littered with abandoned cars. The isolated nature of islands like Foula and Fair Isle means that there isn't any enforcement of the MOT (the annual inspection that almost all cars in the UK are subject to). These are the islands that adopt cars once they get beyond the ingenuity of mainland Shetland mechanics to nurse them through the annual inspection. And once they get beyond the ingenuity of the Foula folks they just get abandoned or kept as a source of spare parts.

The North Bank, Foula
Along the west coast of Foula are a series of high rounded peaks, at least rounded as seen from the east, but from the side it becomes apparent that they are only half-hills. They stop abruptly at the top, and the backs are completely missing, so if you trek up to the top you are left peering over, in some cases, a 1000 foot vertical drop into the North Atlantic.

In addition to the high cliffs there are lots of interesting geological features around the island. Along the north coast is the lovely Gaada Stack, which is a triangular double arch.  At the south end, Da Noup, and the Sneck o da Smaalie, a 60 m deep cleft in the rocks.

Even if you don’t opt to climb up any of the big peaks on Foula, you should risk life and limb and walk up Da Daal to see the cliff edge and the remarkable Sneck o da Smaalie.  And why “risk life and limb”?  Da Daal is prime breeding territory for both the Arctic and Great Skuas (the bonxies), both of which will defend their nest sites enthusiastically from each other and from anything else daft enough to get too close.

Gaada Stack

Da Sneck o da Smaalie
The bonxies will cheerfully take on any human visitor and swoop past very close to your head. There are several thousand breeding pairs of skuas on Foula, so on a 3 mile long island you’re never very far from a skua nest. There’s a bucket of ‘bonxie sticks’ for hire at the airport – and if you’re not already carrying a stick (or a tripod) to wave above your head, you would be well advised to rent one.

Bonxie Sticks at Foula Airport
I had booked a three night stay at the Burns, but as the winds built up over the third night I was pretty sure that I wasn't going to be heading back to mainland as planned.  This meant that I got a bonus day walking the cliffs of Foula, and the folks coming into the island wouldn't be arriving to evict me from the cottage, so I still had somewhere to sleep.  The New Advance did go on the next day (before my food supplies ran out).

If you want a get-away-from-it-all break and are happy with a little bit of uncertainty in your travel plans, Foula is just the thing.

Going to the Edge of the World

The Outer Hebrides are the islands that protect western Scotland from the North Atlantic.  Barra, the Uists, Benbecula, Harris and Lewis form an almost continuous line of islands separated by the Minch from mainland Scotland. If you look even further out into the North Atlantic (another 40 miles or so beyond the Outer Hebrides), you will see another isolated little group of islands. This is St Kilda.

These islands were occupied by generations of subsistence crofters until 1930, when the falling population finally left the crofters with no option other than to petition to be relocated to the Scottish mainland.

Kilda Cruises, Hirta
The islands are now owned by the National Trust for Scotland.  A number of companies run boat trips to the islands, at least when the weather co-operates. I choose to travel to St Kilda with Kilda Cruises who aim to run boats from Harris three times a week.  My previous attempt to get to St Kilda several years ago got weathered off, so this time I based myself on Harris for several days to try and ensure that I had as good as chance as possible to get to the islands.

As I might have predicted, the first attempt to get to St Kilda (on this visit) got weathered off, with instructions to be at the pier at Leverburgh at 07:45 the following morning, when the weather was expected to be a bit better.

I’ll gloss over the details of the boat trip out – suffice to say that the trip felt much longer than three hours (and I always used to say I was a good sailor).  Once ashore I and my fellow day trippers got to spend about 5 hours wandering pretty much anywhere we wanted on the island of Hirta, the main island in the group.  The most recognisable images of St Kilda are either of Village Bay (on south-east side of Hirta) or of The Street, a string of 19th Century cottages. Many of the cottages have fallen victim to years of weather but six have been restored by the NTS to provide accommodation for researchers and volunteers visiting the islands and to house a museum telling the story of St Kilda.  The other feature of 21st Century St Kilda is the little military base at the northern end of Village Bay. This provides a home for staff supporting the various radar installations on the island.  On my first day on Hirta I opted to spend time around the Street (trying to take pictures without Goretex-clad visitors) and then climbed up to The Gap on the eastern edge of the island to see Boreray and its sea stacks about four miles away.

Village Bay and The Street, Hirta

Village Bay, Hirta

Once we’d been summoned back to the boat, we went out for a closer look at the sea stacks, and the vast gannet colonies on them before heading back towards Harris.

In an ideal world I’d have had a chance to work through the first batch of photographs before a return trip to take more, but North Atlantic weather doesn't often offer ‘ideal’ conditions. So, at 07:45 the next morning I presented myself at the pier again for another St Kilda fix. "I can't remember anyone going twice in a week" was my welcome.

The seas were a bit different for the second day, and I travelled on Kilda Cruises single-hull boat rather than the catamaran I’d used for the first trip.  The second trip was a little bit quicker, felt much like a high-adrenalin fairground ride that the first one had and I was a much happier sailor.  My main target on day two was to climb to the various radar installations on the island and to have a look at the islands of Soay and Dun.

The Street, Hirta, St Kilda
The Street, Hirta, St Kilda
The St Kilda story grabbed my imagination many years ago, and I'm really pleased to have finally been able to see the island myself.  As I was bumping back cross the water at the end of the second day, I was reflecting on the difference that decent communications might have made to the islanders.

In the 1920s postal services were unreliable at best, supply boats regularly didn't get through and any medical services were a complete lottery.  After 25 years of being abandoned, the UK’s need for a missile testing range during the Cold War lead to St Kilda being re-established as a military base in the mid-1950s, from that point on supply boats have been regular enough to support 10-12 service people during the winter, and upwards of 30 during the summer months, and there is even a regular helicopter service between St Kilda and Benbecula. It's not easy to see how the St Kildans would have been supported through the Second World War, but it does seem sad that the long term heritage of the island has been lost. It was particularly touching to walk round the little graveyard on the island and to see from the recent headstones that at least some of the evacuated St Kildans do eventually get to make it back to the island.

The Edge of the World label is from the 1937 Michael Powell film that tells the story of the evacuation of St Kilda - it's worth tracking down.

North by Northwest and 500 Miles.

North by Northwest doesn’t make sense on a compass (and in truth it didn't really make much sense in the film plot either), and it’s just over 500 miles (I'm only planning on walking very limited parts of it) but my next trip is to a remote UK location about 500 miles northwest of Oxford.

I regularly head due north from Oxford for about 500 miles to get to get Shetland, this time I'm going the same distance but heading rather further west to the island of Hirta, more commonly just known as St Kilda.

There are half-a-dozen islands in the St Kilda group, but the only one that was ever regularly inhabited was Hirta.

Hirta was probably continuously occupied for about 5000 years until the summer of 1930 when the remaining residents finally conceded that they weren't going to be able to stay and petitioned to be evacuated. Since then the island has come into the ownership of the National Trust for Scotland, and since 1957 there has also been a military presence on the island. There is a certain irony in the fact that the island was evacuated in 1930 because it wasn't considered practical to establish regular communications to the island, but only a few years later a well-supported base was created on the island (presumably from a different budget!)

St Kilda has been on my visit list for a long time. My last (somewhat) half-hearted attempt to get there was in summer 2006.  I was spending a bit of time in the Outer Hebrides, but on the days I was able to go all the tourist boats to St Kilda were either fully booked or weathered off.  This time St Kilda is the focus of the trip, and I've got several days booked to try and get there.  I've opted to go with Kilda Cruises from Leverburgh at the southern end of Harris in the Outer Hebrides and I’ll be getting there via Skye (and CalMac Ferries).  It’s a long time since I visited Skye, so long ago that I needed to get a ferry there rather than being able to use the bridge!

So what's the attraction. The island is unique in the UK in having UNESCO dual heritage status - for both natural and culture significance. It's also remote and at least a bit difficult to get too - both factor getting points on my list. And I don't know very many people who've been there. 

Hopefully Hurricane Bertha won’t be doing an encore in the UK next week, but I do know from spending lots of time on Shetland that Scottish island weather is an unpredictable at any time of year - particularly on isolated little islands surrounded by ocean - so I won't be crossing St Kilda off the list until I've actually set boot on ground.

Pictures and Stories: 18th October 2014

A date for your diary.

Saturday 18th October 2014, 15:00, The Coach House, Quarry Road, Headington, Oxford OX3 8NU.

I'm going to be talking about, and showing, pictures from the far North and the far South.  If you want to hear about snow, ice and the northern lights, or puffins, penguins and polar bears do come and join me.

Chasing Icebergs in Greenland
Talking with Puffins on Shetland
Making Friends with Penguins in the Falkland Islands
Dining out in Svalbard
And there will be an opportunity to buy prints, cards and calendars.

For more information about 'Pictures and Stories' contact me on or follow me on twitter @northsouthimage

Tents and Cars

The acquisition of a new tent provoked me into digging out images of old tents - and it also turned out be an automative history lesson too.

First Tent. Summer 1966.

I'm claiming this as first tent - and I did spend a few nights sleeping in it mostly in the back garden or alongside my parents caravan.

Wouldn't claim it was very weather-proof - single layer of thin canvas, no ground sheet and wooden poles.  Was more often pressed into service for summer picnics - this particular picnic was somewhere in the Sperrin Mountains in Northern Ireland.

Lovely looking Hillman in the background - my parents first new car.

In case you're wondering, I'm the little chap in the Aran sweater with back to camera.

First Real Tent, Summer 1983

Spending too much time in the mountains as a student meant needing to find a little back-pack-ready tent.  I had (I think) a Pheonix Phantom - it's the brown tent on the right of the image. Storm proof synthetic fabric, proper inner tent, aluminium tube A-frame.

And in the background - somewhere in North Wales, I believe - an array of Ford Fiesta, Ford Capri, Morris Traveller and a Mini. I think I'd arrived in the Fiesta.

[UPDATE] And in breaking news - my brother has just confessed to still having the Phantom - hidden in the cupboard under his stairs.

Latest Tent, Summer 2014

Another generation of tent technology - and I've probably missed a few innovation cycles over the years too. The wee brown one was pretty weather proof, lets see how the new one (a Vango Tempest 300) does. Properly separated inner, curved tensioned poles, wind-proof inner tensioning.   It gets it's first outing in a couple of weeks.


It's the time of year when I replenish the cards and calendars I have in the North South Images online shop.

I've just added a batch of new images from the Lofoten Islands and Shetland to the galleries, and also added new choices to the greetings cards section, and (in response to requests at Artweeks earlier in the year) I've also added a new selection of post cards too.

Do drop by and have a look. 

Oxford: Take Two

You might recall that back in January this year it was a little bit damp in much of south and central England.

At the time I took the opportunity to dodge the showers and take a few pictures of the flood waters around Oxford - some of these appeared in a blog entry at the time.

I thought it would be a good idea to revisit the viewpoints I'd found to see what they looked like when the water had receded.

It's taken me a while to get the chance to do this.

The January images are on the left, the July ones on the right in each pair below.

Oxford University Botanical Gardens

River Thames just below The Head of the River

Abingdon Road, Oxford

River Thames below Sandford Lock

Outside Annie's Tea Room at Thrupp

Bus Stop on the Botley Road, Oxford

Botley Road Allotments

Port Meadow

Port Meadow

North South Images Newsletter July 2014

The latest issue of the North South Images newsletter is now available.

This edition has images from visits to Shetland in March and June, and from a return visit to the Lofoten Islands in May.

I've been on Shetland in the spring numerous times and I know how changeable the weather there can be, ranging from thick mists to bright sunshine and from dead calm to storm-force winds. I was particularly pleased the puffins at Sumburgh Head were quite so cooperative, I hope their cooperation is rewarded by a fantastic breeding season.

Lofoten was a disappointment.  I had gone hoping for at least a glimpse of bleak Arctic weather, and a glimpse of bleak Arctic weather was all I got.

For almost all the time, the sun shone and winds were light.  It's not easy telling a story about the bleak north, when the pictures look more like the Caribbean (albeit without palm trees) than the Arctic.

The newsletter is available either on Slideshare or as a PDF file.

The previous newsletter (Feburary 2014) is also still available on Slideshare or as PDF

If you are interested in hearing more about people, places and wildlife in the far North or the far South, do get in touch.  I'm always happy to talk (and enthuse) about cold places in front of an audience.