Sligachan, Isle of Skye, Scotland, Spring
I have returned from my fifth visit to Skye.
I have returned from my fifth visit to Skye.
God damn I love that island so much.
What definitely helps, apart from the fantastic scenery, is that for entire week of our stay the weather and light conditions were fantastic.
All in all, I returned to Cumbria with 200+ RAW files of epicness. Where does one start?
For me, with one of my favourite places on Skye: Sligachan.
Sligachan is a small settlement on Skye’s eastern coast, somewhat halfway between two of Skye’s major population centres: Portree and Broadford. There’s not much at Sligachan apart from a hotel and a couple of houses. What it does offer is some of the finest views of the Black Cuillins and Red Cuillins on Skye.
In particular, there are a number of small rivers that run from the Cuillins towards Loch Sligachan, and the underlying geology has enabled some fantastic waterfalls. You’ve just gotta be prepared for some boggy hiking.
I’ve played around these waterfalls many a time, always seeking the “one” winning photo from this area. On this occasion, I’ve come closer than ever before of capturing that special photo from this magical place.
All photos taken on my Sony α7ii using my Pentax SMC 28mm F3.5 and Rokinon 14mm f2.8 ED AS IF UMC prime lenses. RAW files developed in Lightroom, edited and finalised in Photoshop.
Sligachan, Isle of Skye, Scotland, Spring by Ian Cylkowski is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 4.0
On our first full day on Skye, we first enjoyed the Scorrybreac circular around Portree. Afterwards, we nipped south to visit Sligachan. Whilst Portree was relatively sunny, conditions at Sligachan were significantly different. Stormy skies and powerful freezing winds made for some awe-inspiring conditions. On this occasion this was the best image I could make on this brief visit, the Red Cuillins topped in snow with storm clouds brewing above.
Returning to Sligachan on another day presented a completely different story, with strong sun bursting through the passing, racing clouds. Our first port of call was getting under the Old Sligachan Bridge for a composition of the Black Cuillins.
Afterwards, we began the hike up alongside one of Sligachan’s many rivers, this one being the Allt Dearg Mòr (“Great Red River”). Numerous waterfalls can be found along the river, this one being one of the bigger ones. My ultra-wide 14mm lens was able to capture not only the entirety of the falls and the snow-capped Black Cuillins, but some of the Red Cuillins too.
Beyond the large waterfall, a wide series of falls presented a beautiful composition involving the Black Cuillins as the clouds sank over the mountains.
Getting closer to the falls as I dared, I faced directly towards the sun and attempted a composition of the falls with one of the Red Cuillins, Marsco (736 m/2,415 ft).
A 3-shot 28mm panorama stack from top to bottom enabled this composition of another waterfall with the snowy Black Cuillins darkening above.
Looking back down the river towards the Red Cuillins saw clearer skies. On the left, the wizard’s hat of a mountain is Glamaig (775 m/2,543 ft), catching the light on its smooth flanks. The other Red Cuillin in the distance is Beinn Dearg Mhòr (731 m/2,398 ft)
Back at the Old Bridge, a classic composition involving the bridge and Glamaig proved impossible to resist. In the late 1800s a Gurkha named Harkabir Tharpa scaled Glamaig, starting and finishing at sea level in the bar of the Sligachan Hotel, in 55 minutes. That’s nuts, especially considering most routes up the mountain involved a steep climb on loose scree.
Did you enjoy these photos?
Isle of Arran, Scotland, Autumn 2017
Here’s one from the archives.
Here’s one from the archives.
Back in September/October 2017, Lisabet and I took a 2-week holiday and split it into two. The first week was spent around the coast of the Scottish Borders, centred around Cove Harbour. The second week we crossed Scotland east to west and took a ferry over to the Isle of Arran.
It was our first, and only, time on this island, and we instantly fell in love.
Arran is often referred to in literature as “Scotland in miniature”, as the island can be split into the lowlands and highlands, much like mainland Scotland.
The Isle of Arran is well-known for many things. Of note, it’s home to one of the most recognisable mountains in Scotland, Cir Mhòr (799 m/2,621 ft, meaning “the big comb”). Arran was also where, in 1787, geologist James Hutton found his first “unconformity”. This provided evidence for his Plutonist geological theories and gave him a better idea about the age of the Earth.
We spent a solid week exploring and getting to know as much of the island as possible. I know personally I’d love to go back.
All photos shot on my camera at the time, which was a Sigma dp0 Quattro with built-in 14mm f/4.0 lens. I utilised a variety of graduated neutral density filters plus a polariser to control exposures. Developed using one of RNI’s Kodachrome film profiles.
On the first afternoon/evening on the island after crossing via the ferry, we went for a wander around Merkland Point, near Corrie on the east coast of Arran. I had previously learned about the weird and wonderful geology and rock formations on this piece of coastline, and I was not disappointed.
I loved the maze of patterns created by the grass and rock pools at Merkland Point. I framed this composition to fully fill up the frame with these patterns, set against Holy Island in the distance. We enjoyed a gentle sunset that evening, full of pastel pinks.
Some of the boulders around Merkland Point were covered in the most vivid moss and lichen I’ve ever seen. Truly otherworldly.
A closer composition of some of the moss and lichen found on the boulders around Merkland Point.
The next day we explored Arran’s southern coastline around Kildonan. This is another area you should check out if you’re into strange rocks (and are a bit of geek, like me). In the distance you can just make out Pladda, an uninhabited island south of Arran with its own automated lighthouse. Even further behind you might barely be able to see the pointy profile of Ailsa Crag, another uninhabited island in the Firth of Clyde.
I remember it was an incredibly blustery day. These were the days when I shot on a tripod all the time, and I remember having to brace myself against the tripod in order to hold it still enough for these exposures.
When we ventured back northwards along the southeastern coast of Arran, we stopped at Whiting Bay. There was a walk we knew of that took you to see a rather splendid waterfall. After a fairly strenuous hike, we finally arrived at the viewing point and were absolutely floored by the sight of one of the largest British waterfalls I’ve ever seen. This is Glenashdale Falls, dropping in two stages by around 140 ft. Even with a 14mm lens, I had to shoot three landscape images and stitch them top to bottom in order to fully show the scale of waterfall. Crazy.
We did have to contend with a full day, maybe two, of non-stop rain. But we ventured whenever we could spot gaps in the downpour. This is a composition from the spit of land that protrudes into Loch Ranza, northwest Arran. The hill featured in the centre is Tòrr Nead an Eoin (325 m/1,066 ft, meaning “crag of birds nests”)
One of the finest compositions I managed to nail in my time on the island. This is North Glen Sannox, looking towards the back of Cir Mhòr and Caisteal Abhail (859 m/2,818 ft, meaning “stronghold of the ptarmigan”). Our hike up this valley was frequently interrupted by passing squalls, but it was so windy that we knew we just had to wait it out and the rain would quickly move on.
Further down the foot of North Glen Sannox I nabbed this simple composition of the cascades of North Sannox Burn, with Sail an Im (508 m/1,666 ft) rising in the distance.
Near the start of the walk I took this composition which showcased some of the cascades and vivid rocks of North Sannox Burn.
Another location on our Arran “bucket list” was the Machrie Moor Stone Circles. These are a collection of six prehistoric stone circles; some made from boulders, others from tall sandstone pillars. They’ve been carbon dated to around 2030 BCE, making them around 4,000-years old.
When we arrived some stormy clouds moved over the moorland in front us. This unfortunately blocked our view of the mountains, but more than made up for it with some incredibly vivid rainbows! I reached an emotional state of 50% panic and 50% ecstasy, running around the stone circles trying to shoot as many meaningful compositions as possible whilst the rainbow was still visible.
One of the last days of our week on Arran, conditions stayed dry enough to attempt a circuit around Glen Rosa, one of the main valleys in Arran. I had researched locations and compositions in this valley for years, looking for shots towards the iconic Cir Mhòr. Ultimately, I didn’t get the actual photos I was after, especially because the valley was ridiculously muddy and difficult to walk. But this photo is OK.
Another attempt at a composition featuring Cir Mhòr and some of the gorgeous cascades and pools of Glenrosa Water.
I consider my work of Arran unfinished, and very much look forward to revisiting the island once again with better eyes, better gear, and a fitter body.
Glencoe, Highlands, Autumn
Glencoe is a place that fills me with total awe every time I visit.
Glencoe is a place that fills me with total awe every time I visit.
Whether we’re heading towards the Isle of Skye or venturing further north towards Torridon and beyond, I always appreciate a “pit stop” around this epic place.
Glen Coe is an east-west valley of volcanic origin and is perhaps world famous for the Three Sisters of Glencoe. These are the three “peaks” that rise suddenly from the valley floor, like giant knuckly fists punching the sky.
In reality, the peaks are actually spurs jutting out from the main mountain range of the area, which is hidden by the Three Sisters: Bidean nam Bian (pronounced BIT-yan nam BEE-an, meaning “peak of the mountains”, 1,150 m/3,770 ft). The Three Sisters in question are, from east to west: Beinn Fhada (692 m/2,270 ft), Gearr Aonach (689 m/2,263 ft), and Aonach Dubh (892 m/2,926 ft).
There’s more to Glencoe than the Three Sisters though. There is, of course, one of Scotland’s most famous sights: the “Buachaille”, or Buachaille Etive Mòr (pronounced BOR-kaleh etiv MOO-or, meaning “The Great Herdsman of Etive”, 1,021 m/3,351 ft). From the east the mountain presents itself as an almost impossibly perfect pyramid and is an arresting sight on the way to Glencoe.
Glencoe and the surrounding area is a challenge to portray its mood and scale accurately. I hope I have achieved some semblance of my autumnal experience here.
All shots taken on my Fujifilm X-T2 using both my Samyang 35mm f/1.2 and Laowa 9mm f/2.8 lenses. Shot using a customised Pro Negative Standard film profile.
After leaving the car and clambering down the valley I found this interesting glacial erratic, which I tried to line up for a composition with two of the Three Sisters: Aonach Dubh (right) and Gearr Aonach (left).
A family play by the calm waters of the River Coe. The giant 10 km ridge in the distance is Aonach Eagach, which rises to 967 m/3,175 ft and borders the northern side of the valley.
It’s possible to clamber right down into the valley bottom of Glencoe, which near its eastern end forms a steep and deep gorge. With my ultra-wide 9mm lens I was able to get a more unusual perspective looking from the gorge towards the top of the Gearr Aonach.
A true autumnal scene of Glencoe, looking westwards with Gearr Aonach and Aonach Dubh on the left and Aonach Eagach on the right.
Trying to capture the mosaic of colours on the valley floor, looking centrally towards Gearr Aonach.
Previously in my photographic exploits I’ve always found it hard to capture all three of the sisters. With my ultrawide 9mm lens, I was astounded to be able to capture this composition.
Heading back out of Glencoe and towards Glen Etive, where the River Coupall joins the River Etive, there are a series of wonderful falls and cascades surrounded by seriously vibrant autumnal foliage. One can nab some particularly delicious compositions involving the Buachaille here.
A tighter composition of the giant pyramidal peak of the Buachaille, featuring some of the wonderful autumnal foliage around the Coupall/Etive river junction.
This peak is Stob a’ Ghlais Choire (995 m/3266ft), which marks the eastern end of Glen Etive.
Trotternish Coast, Isle of Skye, Autumn
Most people focus on the Storr or the Quiraing when it comes to the Trotternish Peninsula.
For obvious reasons most people focus on the Storr or the Quiraing when it comes to the Isle of Skye’s Trotternish Peninsula.
But there is so much more to see.
South of the Quiraing and north of the Storr, there is a stretch of coast on the eastern side of the Trotternish peninsula that drops suddenly into the sea. Not only can one explore some fine cliffs and all the views that come with them, there’s also a surprising number of waterfalls along this section of the Trotternish coastline.
Just south of Staffin one can find the famous Kilt Rock, a cliff named for its patterned resemblance to Scottish kilts (Kilt Rock is made from columns of basalt rock, much like at the Giant’s Causeway in Northern Ireland). A well-known viewing station here allows for a sheer perspective along the cliffs towards Kilt Rock, with a waterfall plunging straight into the sea too, known as Mealt Falls.
Further south of Kilt Rock there’s another series of waterfalls called Lealt Falls, which drop in two main stages from the Trotternish landslip. There are incredible views taking in both waterfalls with the otherworldly forms of the Storr high above in the distance.
Closer to the Storr, you can stop off at Upper Tote for ridiculous views all the way down the Sound of Raasay towards the Red Cuillins, too.
All in all, there’s so much to see around the Trotternish Peninsula alone.
All photos shot on a Fujifilm X-T2 with both my Samyang 35mm f/1.2 and Laowa 9mm f/2.8 lenses. I used a customised Pro Negative Standard film profile.
The clear photo to take at the Kilt Rock Viewing Station is looking north, which features Mealt Falls dropping straight into the sea with Kilt Rock in the distance. It is also, inevitably, busy with people. Instead I made my way to the view south, taking in the wonderful Bhaltos cliff formations.
South of Kilt Rock and Mealt Falls there’s another viewing platform, with ample parking, at Lealt Falls. The weather was extremely changeable that day, and I managed a 35mm shot of the upper waterfall with some brief sunlight on the land and the Trotternish landslip in the distance. The prominent peak featured is Sgùrr a’ Mhadaidh Ruaidh (pronounced SKOOR ah VAT-tee ROO-ah, meaning “Peak of the red fox”).
My lovely Lisabet, taking in the views around Lealt Falls, with some wonderful sandstone geology behind her.
A tighter composition of Lower Lealt Falls, the last of the Lealt Falls before merging into the sea.
And now a much wider composition, which manages to capture both of the Lealt Falls with the Trotternish landslip and Sgùrr a’ Mhadaidh Ruaidh in the distance. A squall was also closing in on the peaks and started to obscure them.
A panoramic view of the gorge that the Lealt Falls have cut, whilst a heavy storm drenches the peaks of the Trotternish landslip.
Later, we stopped off further south for this frankly ridiculous and wonderful vistan from Upper Tote, looking all the way down the Sound of Raasay towards the Red and Black Cuillins.