Iceland – fifty shades of grey.

If you’ve found this blog post and are expecting comment on an Icelandic translation of an erotic novel by E.L. James, I’m sorry to disappoint and, if you’re looking for that form of escapism, I’m not sure this post about nature photography will quite do it for you. Thanks anyway for dropping by.

If I was asked for just one word that summed up our recent Iceland tour, that word would have to be Grey. Grey, grey and more grey. Fifty or more shades of it. It can work, grey, but it’s hard work. It’s even harder however, to be angry with Iceland, a place that delivers a constant soundtrack of drumming snipe, bugling swans and piping waders. And big skies of course. Grey but big.

Our recent photo tour kicked off in the south where black sand beaches with troll-like outcrops are caressed by aquamarine waters, where icebergs centuries old calve into lagoons and where on the black lava plateaux, ptarmigan, skuas and golden plover raise their young in the brief window of summer. With almost 24-hr. daylight, we were up early and out late but with just a handful of exceptions, had to make the most of indifferent weather.

Heading west we enjoyed a single sun-kissed evening photographing red-throated divers, that most primeval of all birds and a real symbol of the north. With a confiding pair with well-grown chicks, accompanied by omnipresent phalaropes, our group could indulge their passion for bird photography that would be nigh on possible to replicate elsewhere. The nearby river and waterfalls offered opportunities with whooper swans, fulmars and harlequin ducks, the latter being responsible for a severe drenching of some of our group.

Our final port of call was Iceland’s west coast where we spent a long day on the remote island of Flatey, home to tame redshanks, terns, black guillemots and the ever-present red-necked phalaropes. Thankfully the weather held when it needed to but again, failed to excel itself. The Fish and Chips on the ferry were decent though.

Iceland is one of the most dynamic and fascinating landscapes of the north but it’s charms need to be teased out, it’s secrets are not easily given up. And of course, it’s become a hotspot for nature photographers all attempting to put their own spin on well-visited locations. The bar then, is high before you even start. 10 days, 10 weeks, 10 years – it’s not enough to tell Iceland’s story and so I’ll be back. You’d think there was only so much grey anyone can take? Nah, bring it on.

Thanks as ever to our spirited group and to my co-guide Mark Hamblin who needs to invest in a proper razor (beard trimmers are just plain wrong). As usual we shared ups, downs and lots of stuff in between. If we ever find out who nicked Sue’s sandwich, there’ll be trouble!


Iceland 2012

1 x obliterated 5d; 1 x smashed polariser; 2 x heavily bruised knees after a spectacular tumble and several severely furrowed brows and glazed eyes. I should also mention bruised buttocks from bumping around in the back of our minibus (that’s a different story though). This was the collective toll on our group following a recent trip to Iceland which coincided with 24hr daylight and a subsequent requirement to ignore the time and live by the light.

I love Iceland because I love drama. Skies full of threat, beaches full of nothing and birds everywhere – not a massive range but in massive numbers. Working at this time of year however, is demanding and there’s no doubt it’s tough on the body clock. But hey, you only live once.

Iceland has become THE destination for photo-tour groups in recent years. It wasn’t so much a secret before, it just didn’t seem to catch people’s attention. The eruption of Eyjafjallajokull a few years back changed all that and brought Iceland global attention. And rightly so – it’s a photographer’s nirvana.

I’m not going to give you a blow-by-blow account of where we went and what we shot but the images here should give you an idea of the variety on offer. Once again, we enjoyed the company of a great group of guests so my thanks (in no particular order) to Pauline & Chris, Cynthia and Wojciech, Ann and Helen, Melanie, Adrian, Richard and Cheryl for their good humour and for being in the Little Green Bus Gang. My thanks also to my co-pilot on this tour Mark Hamblin who in his maturing years, seems to have developed a talent for impersonating fast-moving locomotives in his sleep. Over the years I’ve shared endless rooms with the Snorer From Hell but this trip reached new heights.

We’ll be doing it all over again next year so if you want to join us, drop us a line.


It’s all over.

Tardy blog updates mean two things:

1. No new pictures to show.
2. No new pictures to show because I’ve not left the office.

Actually that’s not completely true but as cold air wafts through the office window, I reluctantly conclude that summer has passed me by and a new season is beckoning. To be fair August is a dreadful month in my book. Often wet, always midgy and little in the way of inspiration. So summer might have been a non-event but the wonderful hues of autumn are not far away – bring it on!