Retro Reworking: Pembrokeshire & Brecon Beacons, South Wales, Autumn, 2018
I think we’re due a break after the year we’ve had.
I think we’re due a break after the year we’ve had.
Happily Lisabet and I was able to book our usual two-week September/October break. Where to go this year?
We felt that Scotland, as much as we dearly love the country, would prove too costly with 2022 petrol prices. What about Wales? It’s been a good while since we’ve visited, moreso since we’ve been to South Wales in particular.
South Wales it is, then!
Until that glorious day, I decided to see if I could:
Find my old South Wales photos from 2018, and;
Convert and/or reprocess them.
Point 1 was a success, and I was able to retrieve them from one of my old external hard drives. The issue? This was the period when I was shooting with the beautiful Sigma dp0 Quattro, which produces RAW files (X3F and X3I) that barely any software can read. On the machine I use these days, a 4th-gen 12.9” iPad Pro, I quickly suspected there’d be no way I could read these files.
Thankfully, I wasn’t quite right.
It’s true I can’t read X3I files on an iPad. These RAW files are made using Sigma’s SFD (Super Fine Detail) mode, where the camera automatically exposes seven frames and merges them into a single super high quality RAW file. Only Sigma Photo Pro can read these files, on Mac and Windows.
However, the frankly fantastic Affinity Photo for iPad can read Sigma’s normal X3F files. During my 2018 exploration around South Wales I, unfortunately, shot mostly in SFD mode (X3I files), as I was still very much at the tail end of my HDR phase.
I do still have some singular X3F files, though, and these I’ve been able to convert in Affinity Photo for iPad and go through my current workflow.
So… until I’m in glorious South Wales again, enjoy these reworked photos from my 2018 trip! They were all shot using my camera at the time, a Sigma dp0 Quattro with a fixed 14mm f/4.0 lens. Converted in Affinity Photo for iPad, developed in RNI Films, and finished off again in Affinity.
See my 2018 HDR-esque Pembrokeshire work on Unsplash.
Pembrokeshire National Park
Brecon Beacons National Park
Did you like 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.
Retro Reworking: Watlowes Dry Valley, Yorkshire Dales, Winter 2017
I’ve only been to the Watlowes Dry Valley once, back in February 2017, but it was an experience I’ll never forget. I need to get back here again.
The Watlowes Dry Valley, once the site of a huge waterfall.
I’ve only been to the Watlowes Dry Valley once, back in February 2017, but it was an experience I’ll never forget. I need to get back here again.
You can find this place in Malhamdale, one of the more popular areas of the Yorkshire Dales National Park. Most people head to Malhamdale to experience the Big 3 of the area: Malham Cove (a curved sheer cliff), Gordale Scar (a deep ravine), and Janet’s Foss (a pretty waterfall). But above and beyond both Goredale Scar and Malham Cove lies the Watlowes Dry Valley, once the site of one of Britain’s largest waterfalls.
This valley was carved out from the glacial overspill of Malham Tarn, tens of thousands of years ago. Over time the ice melted and a raging waterfall formed and shaped the incredible landscape you now see. At some point in the distant past, the outflow from Malham Tarn that ran into Watlowes found a more efficient route, and now drops down into the maze-like limestone caves underneath Watlowes. As a result, Watlowes dried up and what you see now is the result. The area where Malham Beck now drops into the caves underneath the Yorkshire Dales is called—appropriately—Water Sinks, as the beck appears to magically disappear into the ground just a few hundred metres from Malham Tarn.
A took a solo hike around this area back in February 2017. I had earmarked the Watlowes Dry Valley for a hike because I was insanely attracted to the idea of exploring an extinct waterfall. The place did not disappoint.
A vertical composition of the Watlowes Dry Valley, clearly showing the route the old river used to take before it would fall over Malham Cove as Britain’s largest waterfall.
Another vertical composition highlighting some of the limestone glacial erratics you can find on the slopes of the Watlowes Dry Valley.
A rather lovely chunk of crag I framed into this composition whilst I also got some nice side lighting.
Retro Reworking: Brimham Rocks, North Yorkshire, Summer 2017
Brimham Rocks features a wide variety of rock formations crafted into otherworldly and fantastical shapes for thousands of years..
Honestly there are so many named rock formations in Brimham Rocks that I’ve long lost track of which is which. Nevertheless, enjoy this composition and gorgeous light I managed to nab.
Brimham Rocks is one of my most treasured locations in England.
You can find it on Brimham Moor, appropriately, in the Nidderdale Area of Outstanding Beauty, west of the Yorkshire Dales. The area features a wide variety of rock formations crafted into otherworldly and fantastical shapes for thousands of years.
The original rock here was laid down about 300+ million years ago, but much of the carving of these rocks occurred within the last 100,000 years. They bear beautifully poetic names, such as The Druid’s Idol, Lover’s Leap, The Wishing Stone, The Anvil, and lots more.
I shot these photographs in the late summer of 2017, when we were housesitting a friend’s place near Harrogate. Back then I was shooting on a Sigma dp0 Quattro with a built-in 14mm f/4.0 lens.
I hope you enjoy this short series of weird rocks.
This formation might be called The Baboon’s Head, but I couldn’t be certain.
The formation on the right could be called The Smartie Tube… maybe. One of the nice things about photographing the moors of Yorkshire in late summer is all the brilliant pink and purple heather everywhere.
There’s a few reasons why this composition captivated me. Firstly, all the gorgeous heather. Secondly, I like the way rocks all seem to be pointing towards each other.
I’m fairly sure the formations centre and left are called The Wishing Stone and Pulpit.
Honestly I could spend years hovering around Brimham Rocks with my camera.
Retro Reworking: Mull of Galloway, Scotland, Winter 2018
Welcome to Retro Reworking, otherwise known as “the country’s on lockdown due to a global pandemic so I have a lot more time on my hands also I’m better at editing nowadays”.
Killantringan Lighthouse, north of Portpatrick. Its name comes from the Scottish Gaelic Cill shaint Ringain, meaning “St. Ringan's chapel”. The lighthouse came into life at the start of the 20th century, and was automated in 1988.
Welcome to Retro Reworking, otherwise known as “the country’s on lockdown due to a global pandemic so I have a lot more time on my hands also I’m better at editing nowadays”.
Back in the tail end of winter 2018 Lisabet and I took a short break to the Rhins of Galloway. This is a long north-south peninsula that ends in the south at the Mull of Galloway, the southernmost tip of Scotland. We’d never been here before; our closest venture would’ve been Galloway Forest Park, 30-odd miles east inland.
Despite hiking in winter we were treated to clear blue skies and endless views. We spent most of our time scanning the western coast of the peninsula, ducking in and out of various bays, and hiking along the tops of cliffs. The Mull of Galloway, in particular, provided epic views from its cliffs.
All photographs shot with my camera at the time, which was a Sigma dp0 Quattro with a built-in 14mm f/4.0 lens. ND grads and polarisers were used in-field to balance exposures. Editing and colour grading done manually myself.
Port Mora, one of the numerous little bays one can explore when hiking north from Portpatrick towards Killantringan Bay.
The sweeping views towards the sheer cliffs of the Mull of Galloway. I primarily shot this photograph because I liked the way the ripples in the grass served as repeating leading lines towards the cliffs. Yes, it was bloody windy.
The sheer cliffs of the Mull of Galloway. This was shot from the top of Lythe Mead towards McTaggart’s Rock. I recall seeing a fox corpse further down the cliff here; probably lost a chase against the resident sheep population.
Getting amongst the craggy rocks and sea stacks of Port Logan Bay, looking towards the Mull of Logan.
Staffin, Isle of Skye, Scotland: A Trio
A small trio of images from around Staffin on the Isle of Skye, Scotland.
A small trio of images from around Staffin on the Isle of Skye, Scotland. Specifically, these photos were taken from a small chunk of coastline east of Staffin village called An Corran, which became rather well-known from 2002 onwards for the Jurassic-era dinosaur footprints discovered there.
Photos taken with my previous camera before I accidentally destroyed it: the Sigma dp0 Quattro.