Imagine this. You were born by the shores of the Mediterranean. Your childhood summers were hot and your winters temperate. But now you are grown, and you are a soldier, posted to the furthest reaches of the Empire where icy winds blow down from the north and snow falls in the winter months.
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The Hoh rainforest is an ancient, almost enchanted place, green and mysterious. Some of its trees have stood here for over a thousand years, long before European explorers came to this continent. Draped with mosses and ferns they seem to stand outside time; a haven of stillness in an ever-shifting world.
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If you call a place ‘Paradise’ it had better be somewhere special! Luckily this area of Mount Rainier National Park really does live up to the name bestowed on it by Virinda Longmire in 1885. When she first saw this spot, carpeted with wildflowers, she is said to have exclaimed, ‘Oh, what a paradise!’
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For those who like a coastline to be photogenic rather than picturesque, and who are more interested in exploring than lying on a beach, Dungeness is close to perfect. But don’t come here expecting to swim, to eat ice cream and to make sandcastles. Dungeness is for fishermen, walkers, photographers and lovers of the wild and windswept. Oh, and it just happens to be Britain’s only desert.
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When I was about ten I was given my first camera, a Kodak Brownie. And my father, himself quite a keen photographer, taught me a few of the basic rules of photography. The most important of these was, you must always have the sun behind you when you shoot. Sorry, Dad, but that’s just not true!
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The indigenous name for Victoria Falls is Mosi-oa-Tunya or The Smoke that Thunders, and it is a fitting name. The constant spray is as thick as smoke, and the roar of the water is indeed like thunder.
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Is there a traveller or photographer anywhere who doesn’t dream of one day seeing the Aurora? It may be a scientific phenomenon, but the artistry of those beautiful glowing colours that seem to appear almost mysteriously in the sky can’t fail to induce awe in anyone who sees them.
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‘Everybody knows the moon is made of cheese...’ Wallace in ‘A Grand Day Out’
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On a recent visit to Swaledale I became obsessed with capturing the patterns created by the drystone walls dissecting the fields above the valley and the stone barns scattered across the green landscape.
