perspective

It is relatively easy to take impressive photographs of landscapes which take the breath away - the monument of the Rocky mountains when the sun and the clouds are just right (see the definition of "awful"), the brilliance of white in the buildings perched high above the cobalt Mediterranean of Rhodos - just point and shoot pretty much anywhere and you're guaranteed to capture something of the grandeur. Anybody can do it, to which travel photo albums around the world can attest. Don't get me wrong, the obvious beauty captured in such photographs has merit, the pleasure of viewing no doubt having some relation to endorphins and the like.

I suppose this is the superficial nature of the iconic - pictures taken by everyone of the visually appealing. The truly brilliant photograph, however, is created by the desire to see beyond the impressive, beyond the grandeur. To distill the image down to some sort of gestalt precisely contained within the edges of the photographic frame. Like taking something apart and reassembling it to the same functionality but with half the moving parts. And this process is not as easy. I can spend hours looking at things just to get the image "just right", only to find upon later inspection that it's "just OK". Happens all the time. That's why you have to have fun in the process, and not merely from the product.

two of the many rocks on Saligo beach, Islay

the Paps of Jura from Bunnahabbhain Distillery, Islay

along the shoreline by Castlebay, Barra

treasure

Dad and I started visiting Scotland together in 2001. I would choose distilleries I thought would be fun to tour, and dad would have fun planning our itinerary. As I've said before, our trips weren't just focussed on whisky, and in 2008 we took the ferry to Lewis, the largest of the Outer Hebrides. Never having been there before, or knowing much about the island, dad chose a B&B on the west coast which sounded remote and kind of cool. It was situated overlooking Tràigh Uig, the Uig Sands, which become an incredibly beautiful and vast beach when the tide goes out. The B&B was called Suainaval. Well, actually, it still is called Suainaval, and you need to stay there if you ever grace the shores of Lewis. And you need to walk on the beach...

In 1831, uncovered by the shifting sands, a collection of chessmen carved from walrus tusk was discovered nearby. They are thought to be Norse in origin from the 12th century. Why they were hidden there is still a mystery. Unexpected treasure.

Along the road to the beach can be found a large carved replica of the king chessman sculpted by Stephen Hayward. Not to be outdone, the kids at Suainaval have created their own homage in stones...

And speaking of unexpected treasure, unbeknownst to us until we got to Suainaval, there just so happens to be a distillery not far down the road. Abhainn Dearg is relatively new, the first distillery on Lewis in almost 170 years. Treasure indeed!

slightly bizarre

Barra, one of the southernmost of the Outer Hebrides of Scotland, has an unusual airport. The landing strip is the beach, so flights can only come and go at low tide. It is the only beach runway in the world which handles scheduled airline traffic. We were lucky enough to catch some spectacular light when this Twin Otter was taking off. I suspect the runway is also the only one in the world where dogs catch frizbees and people fly kites and dig for cockles between flights.

Port Charlotte

I highly recommend the Port Charlotte Youth Hostel should you ever visit Islay, one of the Inner Hebridean islands of western Scotland. The windows of the lounge and kitchen look directly out onto Loch Indaal. This photograph is from the beach just below the hostel during my stay last September. I was lucky enough to catch the rising sun one morning while stumbling to the bathroom and cursing a small bladder (oh, sorry, too much information?).