It always amazes me what people just jump over fences and where they think nobody is looking. It saddens me also.
All of these appliances were dumped in what appears to be a building of potentially historical significance, and right next door to a family holiday park. They were clearly visible to anyone walking to and from the site to the beach via the side pathway, which also gives very popular views of the lighthouse.
It’s always amazing what you can find on a beach. But I can’t help wondering if the whole car might be there somehow, somewhere. If it has, it’s been there a long time and it’s a very old model of car.
(All shots taken at Kingston beach, Moray Firth, NE Scotland)
After 20 years, my love affair with Skye has, I think, now ended. It is not the island, and it is not the people, it is the crowds.
I arrived in pouring rain, which isn’t unusual for anything on the western most side of Scotland, and the next day, with it forecast to be in for the whole day, took a trip into Portree for supplies.
Skye has become a victim of its own success, attracting over 60,000 visitors for the August bank holiday weekend alone (according to a resident). The roads, mainly single track with passing places, just cannot cope. Even if the visitors knew how to drive on them…and too many don’t. Without the docking cruise ships, even with just the coaches, the line for the only ladies toilets stretched for over 60 people and part way around the town. When finally you could get a seat, as it were, the result was barely tolerable, and a long way from pleasant. But at least Portree has toilets…
The third day, my second full day on the island, and looking slightly at slightly more promising weather, I set off the most northerly point on Skye – Rubha Hunish on the Trotternish peninsula. After getting my boots nearly sucked off my feet in the boggy terrain following the lines of walkers to ever nook and cranny, I had wished for my wellies! I also wished it hadn’t rained for days beforehand, and quite a few less people.
The walk is an out and back, which means retracing your steps and trying to keep your boots about you when all about you are losing theirs…
…takes you past a cleared village, and on to meet a sheep sank at the “main” road.
Just along the road a bit further is the Skye Museum of Island Life – a collection of Blackhouses showing the islands way of life through the ages.
I was particularly moved by a series of letters from Johnnie dating back to WWI and on display in the final Blackhouse. There was one about him shipping out with his chums to France, and another thanking his sister for her parcel, which had reached him at the front. He said she could put in some tinned Salmon, or Sardines, next time if she felt inclined.
Sadly, Johnnie would never receive the second parcel as the third piece of paper on show is the notification from Kitchener’s war office. Johnnie had been Killed in Action just three days after writing his letter to his sister.
The next day, the weather forecast was terrible so I decided to explore nearby Camas Mor. Just a few minutes drive from the accommodation it was a lovely bay, small harbour, and was well served by a parking area with bins, two bench seat and tables, and a magnificent view. I would have been perfect it here had been a toilet, but as the residents of Skye will tell you, the Council is not inclined to providing (m)any facilities.
It proved to actually be the best weather day of the entire trip! Sadly, by the time I realised it wasn’t going to get better it was too late.
The day was not wasted, although the birds were nowhere to be seen, and the hoped for wildlife of seals, dolphins, and even whales, never appeared either: Just three Cormorants and a few assorted gulls to show for the hours of patient watching, plus some photos too, of course.
Driving back a slightly different route, following the grid pattern of small roads, took me past a derelict church which still had some sections of plaster and painted murals covering the remains of the walls.
The final day of the trip and I was desperate for a walk which wouldn’t be a quagmire, after the days of continual rain. I headed, along with a hundred or more other people (and I don’t exaggerate here) towards Dunvegan. Passing by the castle I hoped the beaches would be quieter and on arriving there was a space or two in the car park. By the time I had walked the 4 miles to the far end of the bay and back I was nearly boxed in by some bad parking to the front, a tree to the rear, and unable to open the passenger door for the inconsiderate parking of the neighbour. Almost every car in the place had a ’17’ plate and a sticker on the fuel filler cap reminding the driver what to fill it up with. According to the residents I spoke to, almost every car you see between 7am and 7pm is a hire car. Or a camper van…
My dog ran into the waves, got soaked right over, and came out grinning (Staffordshire Bull Terriers not only have the ability to ‘smile’ but also seem to have very good comic timing and a well judged sense of humour. My first one used to go and sit on the lino’ in the hall when he wanted to fart because it made it much louder…no kidding).
When I got my current squeeze, he was terrified of everything and that including the sea. Now, four years later, he can’t wait to get his paws wet. Watching his shear joy and exuberance of running into the waves made the whole trip, and even the bad weather worth it, but I am sure there were less people in Edinburgh during the Fringe than there was on the Isle of Skye last week.
Sitting in a little wooden cabin, back on the Isle of Skye, looking out in the fading evening light towards North Uist and the Isle of Harris. It’s been raining, hard, all day, but there is a chink in the sky. The distant hills and mountains are hiding one minute and revealed the next, albeit, brief interlude in the rain. The wind is picking up and the clouds are rolling like thunder across the sky, it’s hard to see if the water is being picked up off the sea or coming down to rejoin it. But the waves are quiet and the sea gently laps at the shore, the sparkly of light on the sea reflecting the touch of sunlight above. It will be dark soon, the sun setting somewhere behind the clouds….somewhere, out west, where the none to distant shore of Uist meets the unforgiving Atlantic.
Hey there folks, just a little post to let you know I’ve been published on the Olympuspro.com website. Perhaps you might like to check out my post, but also some of the other post on there which you might find interesting.
The Moray Coastal Trail runs from Forres in West to Cullen in the East, and is a long distance trail of around 50 miles, which isn’t a long long distance trail, but its not a day hike either. Although if you look at it in little sections, it provides a convenient path between the coastal towns and villages, an more convenient off-road route for cyclists, and a gentle stroll for those of us who are feeling a bit less committed that the long distance hiker. Being a bit noncommittal after two divorces, I have hiked almost all of it, also twice, because I’ve done it in sections as “there and back” outings.
It’s an ideal stroll as in many sections it uses bit of the old railway track, so it is often fairly level, but there are options to adopt a more robust and strenuous, “walkers only”, path along some sections of the clifftops. These routes drop in and out of many secluded bays, are generally longer, and also provide some wonderful experiences of the local geological features. It is also far easier to have a pee on them if you’re a woman because there are more places to hide your arse. For men, not so much of a problem.
The trail, or individual sections, can of course be walked in either direction, and as I go out and back sometimes I take the photos in the opposite order to the way I write about it because I like to enjoy the walk and then get the shots on the way back. But I am not going to bore you with showing you the same bits twice.
The slide show above features 10 images from the Findochty (pronounced Finichty or Finechty depending on if they come from Buckie or further along the coast) to Cullen section. Cullen is famous as the home of the original Cullen Skink; a rich creamy soup using smoked haddock pieces and potatoes, and comes highly recommended by the author 😉
A little about each picture:
My walk started in Findochty harbour, which is where my post Wee Horses, Wee Boats sort of finished. Although the harbour is now used mainly by leisure craft, there are still some creel pot fishermen as shown in this photo. The bigger trawlers having moved to Buckie in the late 1800’s, where a deeper harbour could accommodate the ever larger vessels.
The Moray Coast interests geologists, with many paying trips to examine the exposed Cullen Quartzite formations. Psammitic beds are interbedded with thinner pelitic beds, and other sedimentary features can also easily be seen right along the coast here. Evidently, we have evidence of crenulations cleavage, and even secondary cleavage (which doesn’t sound flattering to anything other than rocks), as well as garnets in quartzite rocks on sections of the coast near to Cullen itself.
The most famous rock formation on this section of the walk is Bow Fiddle Rock, which has quite frankly been “done to death”.
The weather was glorious the whole way along the coast, with birds singing in the gorse and plenty of birds and boats on the water. I was delighted to see, albeit briefly, a small pod of the Firth’s famous resident Bottlenose Dolphins on the return leg.
The coast always attracts a number of migrant birds during the Spring and Autumn, and it is not unusual for some real rarities to turn up.
Portknockie harbour is a two basin harbour with berthing for up to 50 boats. Now mainly used by pleasure craft and leisure fishermen, there is still a small industry of crab and lobster boats, although most are now part-time. It also boasts a salt water fed open-air swimming pool which can be seen in the left basin in the photo. The town of Portnockie is mainly situated above the harbour, on the cliff top, and overlooks it.
The Fishermen’s Hall (this is the correct title as displayed on the name plaque), is believed to have been built in 1820. It was initially used a coal store by the Society of Fishermen (est. 1819), and started life as single storey with a thatched roof. It gained elevation and a state roof in 1842, and then to two full stories at the turn of the century. It has had a number of uses including hosting some notable local weddings during the mid-late 1800s. By 1994 it was is a poor state of repair, and the then owners Moray Council, put it up for sale. There was little interest until 2002 when it sold and the new owners sort permission to convert it into flats, but this was refused. It has been renovated, but to what end I am not sure. More info here
Not actually sure if this is a garage or a shed, but basing my observation on the fact you could drive into it I’m calling it a garage. The residents of Portknockie are, rightly, proud of their beautiful coastal town, although more of a village, and work very hard to keep up appearances. Evidence of murals to the sea can be found tucked away throughout the town, including this garage, and the community has it’s own website and newsletter, although 2015 seems to be the last available online.
The Zulu design of fishing boat originated in Portknockie, and was the successor of the Fifie. The hull design came from nearby Lossiemouth, and this was developed into the Zulu craft (named after the war raging, at the time, in southern Africa). Over 100 of these boats were built in this small rock cove, and it became a well respected design. Tragedy was often too common to sea faring communities, and a Portknockie boat, The Evangeline, was very sadly one of them.
There are two approaches to Cullen, one on the cycle path which takes you over the famous viaduct, and one which takes you along the cliff top and then down onto the beach. This photo was taken from the cycle path which goes over the viaduct on the old railway line. It was hot, I was lazy.
Cullen Golf Course proudly states it is the ‘Worlds Shortest True Links Course’. Designed by Old Tom Morris as a 9-hole, it was later extended to 18 holes by local architect Charlie Neaves. Although the course is short, nestling alongside the beach between the cliffs and the viaduct, it has 18 challenging 3-par and 4-par holes in the most stunning location imaginable. Immaculately kept greens permit around 3-hours a round.
Due to the weather being so warm (bordering hot), and unusually so for August in Scotland, I didn’t go right the way into Cullen itself as it was becoming a bit too much for my dog. We stopped on top of the famous viaduct a short way on from this last photo for lunch and then turned back. The wonderful things about this part of Scotland are the accessibility of the beaches, the light, and the skies. While I still have a preference for mountains and lochs, the coast doesn’t have the same issues with midges so that’s a definite bonus to time spent here.
All the images were shot with my Cullen Golf Course, after all, that is in the sub-title of this blog site, and using either the Olympus Zuiko M.14-42mm/f3.5-5.6EZ ‘pancake’ lens or the Olympus Zuiko M.9-18mm/f4.0-5.6 lens. Both of these are easily pocket sized, and very light, with surprisingly good optical quality. The 14-42mm ‘kit’ lens often gets a very undeserved bad press and I have found it a surprising pleasure. But don’t take just my word for it; Robin Wong has an excellent article about the lens here.
All the images in this feature are jpegs shot in-camera with some additional cropping in Adobe Lightroom (LR) to give the required emphasis for the story I was creating. I have used the histogram, also in LR, to bring out the full range of tones, as I am still getting used to the customisation features of the PEN-F. As a result of this outing I have now made some further adjustments to the feature in the camera, mainly using the curves in-camera adjustment to increase the range of tones and contrast during future shoots. This shoot was done using the defaults in the Mono 1 creative mode with contrast set to neutral (default), and sharpening to +1. I have also applied a gentle Yellow filter, again in-camera, as a customisable option.
Due to the overall brightness of the shooting period (more on that below), I set the Exposure compensation to -0.3 to ensure the highlights were not blown out. I used Aperture Priority throughout the walk to keep things simple, and for some reason all the images I selected for this blog were shot at f10. This wasn’t deliberate, and I have shots taken at different apertures, the ones I liked most were all f10. Weird…
The camera was set to ISO200, and I didn’t find a need for a tripod even though I carried one. Image stabilisation was turned off throughout. The reason for this is two fold – firstly, I have never been a fan and I have found (previously with Nikon) that you can often get sharper images without it. I prefer to either raise the ISO, or use a tripod, when required. I cannot see how introducing movement, even microscopic movement, can make an image sharper and to me it is only worth using in very low light if you’ve really reached the reasonable limits of handholding/ISO/aperture of lens.
The second reason is that I find that the PEN-F gets notoriously warm with it switched on, especially around the handgrip, and turning it off stops this completely. There is an added bonus in that it also increases battery life. Of course, in the winter I might yet switch it back on and use the camera as a hand warmer….(kidding, fix please Olympus).
All the images in this entry were shot between 12.50 and 15.33 (I can be this exact because it’s in the file data) and on Sunday 27th August, 2017. This period of time is supposed to be the photographic desert period when nobody shoots anything due to the bright, unfavourable, light. The fact it was cloudy allowed some interest in the sky to be maintained, although the cloud was at times rather thin and widespread, but it reduced the need for graduated ND filters to a good degree. When the clouds were more compacted, ‘fluffy’, and therefore more interesting, the difference between the blue sky and the more broken clouds greatly improved the photographic opportunities. As a result, in these images I increased the amount of sky included. Photography is as much about what you leave out as what you include.
My preference for monochromatic images does also allow for more shooting at what is often viewed as a ‘bad’ time of day, but sometimes you just have to get what you can at the time, and I find the Olympus PEN-F allows me to do that. I don’t really think there is a ‘bad’ time for photography, you just have to adapt to the light you’re given or find a way to manipulate or compensate for it.
There are two very famous views of this area; the Cullen viaduct being one, and as I alluded earlier Bow Fiddle Rock being the other, but I have deliberately avoided these because I find they have become cliches. I had a conversation with the director of a local tourist body no so long ago and he said; “oh, god, if I have to see one more picture of Bow Fiddle flipping rock”.
Photographers can copy others, or write their own stories.
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The joy of having a discreet camera cannot be under estimated when you want to shoot in an urban or city surrounding. I found that shooting with the Olympus PEN-F and it’s little pancake Zuiko 14-42mm/f3.5-5.6 EZ lens was just a joy.
Being able to control the output and filtration of the images whilst shooting is a bonus of the customisable options on the PEN-F which meant I was able to adjust each image at the time of shooting without it being a distraction from the image taking process.
I’m still convinced by the output of the in-camera jpegs in quite the same way as I was with the Fujifilm ACROS setting that I wrote about previously, but I think there is more scope of customisation with the Olympus system and so I just have to experiment.
The image quality from the smaller sensor, being micro 4/3rds rather than APS-C does not seem to make any significant difference to the images produced when viewed on my 5K monitor even at 100% and I do not anticipate any issues with printing the images to seriously large sizes. As I have said before, everything has its limitations and you just work around them. I’ve shot and printed from much smaller sensors and with many fewer megapixels in the past.
The PEN-F actively encourages you to go outside of your comfort zone and try new things, and that just has to be good for creativity.
For more images from this visit to Elgin, please visit my dedicated blog site