2012: The North Called


At the end of 2011, I was picking my way through the wall of images I’d taken in the South Atlantic in November and December and reflecting on the first half of my ‘temporary escape’ from meetings and daily commuting.  I had three months of clear time before the office called me back – and I could (with a few budgetary constraints) do anything I wanted.

As I sat in Oxford contemplating, I was clear that I didn’t want to jump onto a plane for another long haul flight either back to south America or to Australia or New Zealand anytime soon (both directions had been on my ‘maybe-list’).  That made ground-based stuff look promising, and the observation that I’d not yet managed to get any decent images of the Northern Lights pointed my way North.

Norwegian Coastal Sunrise
The first idea for the next phase was based round boats and trains around Scandinavia – and I was on the point of booking when an email arrived telling me that a collection of old frequent flier miles was about to expire.  I opted to burn these on flights from London to Stockholm at the start of February to start a Scandinavia meander, and back from Copenhagen at the end of February to complete the loop.  Between the two flights I decided to try and fit in city-time in Stockholm, Oslo and Bergen, a trip up the Norwegian Coast to Kirkenes on the Hurtigruten Coastal Steamer, a block of time in the Lofoten Islands and a few days in the Faroe Islands.  Surely by spending that much time up North – and quite a lot of it inside the Arctic Circle I’d get at least one decent look at the Northern Lights.

January 2012
Before heading properly north, I drove up to Shetland – in a car pretty much filled with sofa – to finish working through the southern images.  Shetland offered all the things you would expect in January – big storms, lots of rain, low clouds, not much light.  It also offered things you might hope for, but never expect, such as the Northern Lights. My first really good view of the Northern Lights was from the kitchen window of the Shetland house, and my images from just outside the front door made lots of news websites around the world and was the background image for a Sky News item about how dramatic the aurora had been in late January.

February 2012
Having already ticked off the Northern Lights in Shetland I was able to set off on my Scandinavian Odyssey from a Business Lounge at Heathrow (I had a lot of frequent flier miles to use up!) ready to add to my ice photo collection.  Stockholm delivered on the ice.  Overnight temperatures down around -20C ensured that the harbour froze over – the morning serenade (heard from a water level cabin on a yacht converted to floating hotel) was the harbour ice-breaker grinding through the ice to allow the regular passenger ferries to run.  The always comfortable – and usually on-time - Swedish and Norwegian railway moved me from Stockholm to Oslo to Bergen ensuring that I was able to appreciate snowy landscapes and still have enough time to see at least some of the attractions in each city.  Having stayed on a boat in Stockholm, I made sure I got to the Fram Museum in Oslo to see what life was really like when ice was grinding along the hull of the boat, before heading to Bergen to join my boat heading for the far North.

There are two sorts of boats that Hurtigruten use on their traditional route up the Norwegian Coast.  Most of the boats look like small-scale cruise ships, but a couple of the older boats date from an earlier generation and look much more like ferries of old.  They don’t have things like car decks, and all the cargo needs to be either wheeled up the gangway, or winched on board.  Once I had decided to go up the Norwegian coast I wanted to use a traditional boat.  So in early February I found myself in a little cabin, deep in the Hurtigruten version of steerage ready to go North.  Suffice to say that the boat looked very much the part of the traditional coastal steamer (lots of brass and mahogany), and the engine, just a few feet from cabin, sounded very much like a traditional coastal steamer.    The other observation is that the Hurtigruten is THE way to get a glimpse of Norwegian coastal life – most days the boat stops for long enough to let you get a flavour of the towns, and you always get a full on view of both the Norwegian weather and the dramatic coastal scenery.  The Hurtigruten is also the perfect way to see the Northern Lights – they aren’t guaranteed to put in an appearance, but if they do you’re probably going to get a good view.  The Hurtigruten isn’t, however, a great place to photograph the Lights – a rolling ship and long exposure make for interesting images, but not good representations of the aurora.  The ships timetable does mean that you will wind up having time in some remote places at strange times of the day – just accept these as the opportunity to photograph some great sunrises!

Having chugged (and I use the word advisedly, now being an expert on chugging boat engines) north to Kirkenes, further north than Nuuk in Greenland, and as far East as Cairo. I spent long enough in Kirkenes to realise what -25C feels like, and to discover that there isn’t much to do there other than practice your Russian in the shops, then turned round to go back through a very dramatic winter storm around the North Cape to the Lofoten Islands.  Lofoten had just had its first serious snowfall of the year, and the despite making driving a little bit entertaining did provide some excellent photographic opportunities – snowy landscapes, glimpses of the top of the Lofoten Wall, and another fix of the Northern Lights.

The Faroe Islands was a complete contrast to Lofoten – it’s a bit further south, and a lot further out in the North Atlantic, and it’s been on my “islands to visit” list for many years.  From the geography you might expect the Faroe Islands to be a mix of Iceland and the Scottish Islands.  And you would be exactly right.  From Torshavn, possibly the only capital city with a grass-roofed parliament, a direct flight got me back to Copenhagen to complete my Scandinavia jaunt with a couple of glasses of probably the best beer in the world. Well it tasted good at the time.

March 2012
March was the time to head back to Shetland.  My Scandinavian timing meant that I’d missed the big fire festival in Shetland, so I did make sure I was on Shetland for my local version of Up Helly Aa.  This involves a large number of people dressed (more or less) as they imagine Vikings might be dressed, parading down the main road accompanying a replica Viking longboat which was torched while floating out into one of the local bays.  I didn’t see any evidence of fire festivals anywhere else in Scandinavia on my travels around the north.   The other attraction that Shetland in March provided was several opportunities to both see and photograph the northern lights yet again – not quite as intense as the January offering, but with lots more colours.

April 2012
At the end of March I should have been contemplating a gentle end to my six months away.  I did actually complete the time with not one, but two, trips to Finland (which I had missed out on the main trip).  The first trip was a chance to ski, ice-climb, snow-shoe and particularly to learn to drive a dog-sled (and to see the Northern Lights again).  The second was a rather less frenetic bird-watching trip with the goal of spotting a Great Grey Owl.

Having packed quite so much into the first three-and-a-bit months of the year, the next few months were going to have to work pretty hard to compete.

May 2012
June 2012
I managed a short trip to Denmark for a Confirmation Party in April (Denmark having been short-changed earlier in the year) before resorting to more traditional photography themes in May, June and July.  

May provided unconventional nesting blue tits in Milton Keynes, June snail-racing in Oxford, and July puffin spotting on Shetland. 

July 2012

But just in case my passport started to seize up, I spent a very hot and sticky week in New Orleans – mostly working but just finding enough time for a boat trip along the Mississippi.




August 2012
That was all before the country got submerged in Olympic euphoria during August – and I can’t deny that I got caught up in it too. I’m not sure when I’ll get to take pictures at another UK Olympic Games, so I took plenty at this one.






September 2012
September found me back up on Shetland.  While southern England was busy getting drenched Shetland was seeing what might be called a Viking summer – with clear blue skies and light warm winds.





October 2012
Occasionally the sun did shine in the south too –the biggest bar code in world (photographed in October on the OU campus) always looks better with a spot of blue sky behind it.






November 2012
November was another fix of Shetland – this time with dramatic seas to accompany the sunshine.






December 2012
My final trip for the year was to add another country to the catalog.  I never managed to get to Yugoslavia, but having got to Slovenia a couple of years ago, it was good to add Serbia to the list.  Belgrade is a fun place to spend a weekend – and I hope I’ll get a chance to visit again in the not too distant future.




During 2012 I spent over 50 days outside the UK, although the number of separate trips and different countries I clocked up makes it seem like it should be rather more than this.  I don’t, yet, have a long catalog of trips lined up for 2013, but I do expect to be clocking up a bit more time inside the Arctic Circle (can't ever have too much time up North), and it would be fun to add the Antarctic Circle to the list too.

Travel A to Z


I was challenged to produce a travel A to Z based on places I'd been to.  Here it is - with photographs as evidence.

Alesund,  Norway (2012)








Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan (2009)











Colombo, Sri Lanka (2011)












Delhi, India (2007)





Estoril, Portugal (2010)

Florence, Italy (2004)






























Geiranger, Norway (2004)












Helsinki, Finland (2008)










Istanbul, Turkey (1999)




Jaipur, India (1992)









Kandy, Sri Lanka (2011)


Lerwick, Shetland (2011)

Madrid, Spain (2008)

New Orleans, USA (2012)

Oslo, Norway (2012)
Perth, Australia (2007)














Quendale, Shetland (2010)












Reykjavik, Iceland (2007)












Santiago, Chile (2011)











Torshavn, Faroe Islands (2012)











Utrecht, Netherlands (2011)












Vancouver, Canada (2007)












Warsaw, Poland (1996)


Xinjiang, China (2009)












Yala, Sri Lanka (2011)












Zagori, Greece (1998)

Still Watching the Waves

Last winter, while I was travelling, I did a Saturday post each week to let anyway who was interested find out what I'd been doing when I didn't need to be based in the south of England.  The blog is still there if you want to go and have a look at it.

Having spent a splendid day watching boats and waves around the southern end of Shetland, I felt inclined to  generate another short post about this Saturday - maybe I'm doing this because I had intended to get on with some writing projects this weekend.  I just hadn't reckoned on the weather.

I sat at Aberdeen airport yesterday morning watching the dark clouds overhead, and made the mistake of looking at the weather forecast for Shetland. It assured me that the rain would be starting about the time I was due to get to Shetland, was going to carry on pretty much relentlessly for the next three days.

Remind me to get a better weather forecast next time.

The shone brightly yesterday, and with the exception of one shower last night the skies were clear. Clear enough to remind me just how many stars are visible when you get away from the city lights. This morning the  skies were pretty clear again, a picture from Lerwick harbour is an indication of the cloud cover.


Ocean Researcher in Lerwick Harbour
Scalloway Castle
Having convinced myself that it was sunny in Lerwick I headed from the modern capital of Shetland to the old capital at Scalloway.  Still sunny. Still blue skies.

So back down to the south end of Shetland.  There is a little harbour at Grutness, but there isn't usually anything there - unless the Good Shepherd IV from Fair Isle is around.

What there often is at the south end are great waves.  These can be particularly dramatic when the wind is from the southwest (which it was), and there is bright sunshine around (where there was).

Breaking Waves at Quendale Bay
One of the interesting quirks of travel around Shetland is the runway extension that was built in the late 80s. Not only is there a level-crossing set of gates where the main road crosses the runway, I'm told there is only one other airport in the world that has this.  The other quirk is that when the wind is from the southwest the waves break over the western end of the runway.


Waves breaking over the runway at Sumburgh.

And my one mistake this weekend - other than reading the weather forecast. I really should have realised that I was going to need sunglasses. On Shetland. In November.

BTW. There are a few more pictures from today on Shetland on Flickr

Going to the Dogs


Never agree to be the last sledge out.

They don't tell you this when you sign up for a day driving a team of Siberian huskies.  Huskies are wonderful animals, huge amounts of energy, astonishing stamina and a nature that is remarkably forgiving of the novice sledge driver.  What they don't have is patience.

I was deep in the Finnish wilderness close to the Arctic Circle at a dog farm run by Marika and Lauri Sassali. "I wasn't allowed a dog when I was a boy, so now I've got 60 of them."

The sledges are tied to trees along a lane beside the farm.  Marika, "It's better if she does this, the dogs listen to her" says Lauri, works her way along the sledges attaching a team of dogs to each.  The mushers don't know what's going to happen next, but the dogs do. Their excitement builds. They know they're about to spend the next few hours doing what huskies were bred to do -  running in the snow. 

Once all the teams are harnessed, the farm hand releases the front sledge with Lauri driving. The sledge tears off down the lane, round the corner and disappears from view.  This is too much for the next dog team, they want to go too. They get released. Then sledges three, four and five.  Suddenly my rope is released. The sledge surges forward. I'm standing on the brake and hanging on but we're going faster and faster.  My only printable thought. "No wonder Amundsen got to the Pole first."

After a few minutes my dogs get sight of the teams ahead, and relax from their frantic chase into a long distance trot.

After each stop during the day, my dogs see their companions head off first and they want to go too. Each time, I'm desperately standing on the brake until the sledge ahead is far enough away to give me some running space.

And every now and again when we're running I step back on the brake to let the other sledges pull away into the distance. Confident that my team are going to see this as a challenge and, when I release the brake, put in that extra turn of speed that gives me that little extra adrenalin kick.

As I said, never agree to be last out. You might find that it's addictive.

Hotel Mälardrottningen, Stockholm


"Your room is on the waterline, don't leave the porthole open".  

Not the usual welcome at the check-in desk. However, the Mälardrottningen Hotel in Stockholm isn't your usual city centre hotel.


The hotel, a 90 year old motor yacht once owned by a Woolworth heiress, is now permanently moored in Gamla Stan in the centre of Stockholm and provides about 60 rooms with more character than any of the surrounding traditional hotels.  The rooms, or rather cabins, range from compact "Sailor's" cabins down on the waterline, through to the luxurious "Owner's" and "Captain's" cabins.

As soon as you walk up to reception you know that you are on the water.  The yacht isn't rigidly attached to the dock, so as the tide changes and other boats pass by, the hotel rocks gently on it’s moorings.  Throughout your stay you will expect to hear the sounds of the engines getting underway and of the ropes being cast off.  The maritime feel of the hotel is magnified by the profusion of bright brass and dark mahogany - and the navy blue and gold carpets ensure that you think nautical at all times.

When you check in, particularly if you're down on the waterline make sure you ask for a waterside rather than a dockside cabin. The waterside cabins have views across Riddarfjärden, and in the winter at least provide all the evidence you need that you are in Scandinavia.

In winter, at the Mälardrottningen you don't have the normal city centre noises to keep you awake, instead you get the ever-changing creak and grind of the sea ice in the harbour against the hull of the ship to lull you to sleep.  Your dreams will be of the exploits of Scott, Amundsen and Shackleton and your early morning wake-up call will be the local ice-breaker clearing the way for the harbour passenger ferries. 

The traditional fittings don't get in the way of needs of the modern traveller.  The cabins might shout 1920s, but the Scandinavian en-suite bathroom and the facilities are very 21st Century.  There’s really efficient heating (useful when the temperature outside is -20°C, as it was when I visited in early February), satellite TV and wi-fi. 

And of course, this being Sweden, there's a snug wood-panelled sauna just down the corridor.

Independent Traveller


Travel in India is always a challenge.
The sheer volume of people places huge pressure of every aspect of every journey.  As a western visitor, or as one of India’s growing wealthy classes, it is possible to sidestep some of the crowds, but doing this throughout a visit misses the opportunity to sample real India.
Our opportunity came in the form of an invitation to visit friends in Vellore while staying in Bangalore just over 200 km away. “An easy train journey, just come for the day”.
The first challenge is getting a ticket.  The number of travellers mean that you can’t just turn up and travel, and buying a ticket means you seem to need to talk to most of the 1.4 million people employed by Indian Railways. You need to find the right booking office. You need to pick a train, there a lots of choose from.  You need to pick a class of travel, it’s not just first or second.  You need to decide if you want a confirmed booking or just to be wait-listed.  All these decisions should be easy, but everyone involved in the transaction has an opinion, as do lots of bystanders. “First Class air-con.Very comfortable”.
Eventually we find our way through the station crowds, a mix of travellers and others apparently just milling around watching the travellers, and start to negotiate the complexities of the ticketing scheme.  We identify a train. We decide on “non air-con”, previous experience telling us that air-con means you can’t see out of the windows.  We even get a confirmed ticket for at least part of the journey. Success.
We haven’t got anywhere yet, but we’ve managed the first step of being an independent traveller in India.

Slow in Vardo


It’s four o’clock in the afternoon and it’s already been dark for hours.  Today, as every day at this time, the south-bound Hurtigruten steamer stops briefly in the little Norwegian town of Vardo.
Not much happens in Vardo. Particularly in winter. The temperature is way below zero. The air is cold enough to sting as you breathe in. Everything is quiet.  The layer of snow on the ground deadens all sound.  The gently falling snow keeps everyone inside the brightly lit houses.
Through the treble-glazed windows of the “Nord Pol” bar I can see, but not hear, the locals sipping “Arctic” beer from the Mack brewery.
The only sign of outdoor activity in Vardo is down in the harbour.  A few packages are winched off the steamer and deposited into the snow on the quayside, before being hauled into the warehouse.  Further along the quay, a solitary small fishing boat comes in out of the darkness, and its two man crew unloads the fresh cargo in thickening snow flurries.
After a few minutes, the ship sounds its plaintive warning hooter summoning any stray passengers back aboard.  After another few minutes, the gangway is hauled away and the ship pulls out into the fjord.  The harbour gate clangs shut and lights start to go out. Vardo fades back into silence. The snow continues to fall.

Railway Lunch

Coonoor Station - Nilgiri Mountain Railway

"Would you like to share our lunch?"

We were sitting in an ageing carriage being slowly pulled by a wheezing steam train up the Nilgiri Mountain Railway in southern India. In the time of Empire thousands of colonial families would have used the same railway, and quite possibly the same carriages, to climb from the heat of the Indian Plains, up to the relative coolness of the hill station at Ooty.

We had started our journey from the Plains in a trusty Hindustan Ambassador before joining the train to complete the journey as it would have been done in the past. Our travelling companions were an Indian family escaping the hustle and bustle of city life in Madras to spend a few days in the hills.

The already slow train got slower and slower. After spending many hours on a mainline train before changing to the mountain train, the children were getting restless so their mother announced that it was now lunchtime. We were the only other travellers in the carriage, so the invitation came.

Palm-leaf plates were produced along with rice and an array of home-made pickles and chutneys. "They're not too hot", we were assured.  As the tea plantations slowly passed below the windows we had our first real taste of genuine home-cooked Indian hospitality.

If this scene had appeared in one of Michael Palin travelogues, we'd have been convinced that it was staged. In our travel anecdotes this lunch is now filed under "Palin moments".

Flavour of Svalbard

My trip to Svalbard in summer 2010 provided the opportunity to get really close to some of the polar bears there - I've put together a series of short blog posts about some of pictures I took.

1. Bear One


2. Bear Two


3. Bath Time


4. Being Watched


5. Planning a Picture


And if you want more words there is a blog post from 2010, or more pictures there is a set of images on Flickr.