I have never been someone who is comfortable with words, that's why I’m a photographer trying to tell stories with pictures. Leaving enough of story to be told within an image but leaving just enough to be pieced together by the viewer.
This trip to Scotland was cathartic in many ways, from coming out the other side of a horrible break up and beginning to tackle a new life as a full time self employed photographer. A good excuse to blow off the cobwebs in the highlands with what was originally two strangers from the internet brought together by cameras and instagram. Haha!
We were lucky enough to begin the trip with a 4x4 fully equipped with a roof tent ready for any situation. This opened up so many more doors for us on this trip, being able to pull over and sleep where we please.
Waking up down Glen Etive was the baptism of fire we needed for the rest of the week. This is Scotland, put your sunsets and clear skies to one side, this was all about rain, mist and the cold. And to be honest I wouldn’t have had it any other way.
We had no real route in mind, just a list of places and a tank of fuel. Go to the place and photograph the thing. Rinse, repeat. Except it wasn’t like that. It's hard to fight every cliche and say it's not about the destination, it's about the journey. But it really is, I’ve done a few trips now with these guys and it's about spending time with each other, getting into fights about driving at 2am and sharing stories and I hope we can do it again, and again.
One thing that made this trip unforgettable for me was seeing the northern lights. This was one of the most unexpected spoils of our spontaneity. We decided that evening that instead of setting up camp further down the coast, we would make the four hour drive up to Durness where we could wake up closer to our destination for the next day.
We cooked crappy burgers on the portable stove we had, cranked Fleetwood Mac and put our collective foot down across the Scottish moors. This was one of the eerier experiences, single track roads going on for hundreds of miles at a time with nothing to see except for the faintly backlit mountains covered with mist.
We were slamming on the breaks every 10 minutes for a passing deer or rabbit. Long drives, no stops and stupid arguments all the way to the north coast. When we pulled up to where we decided would be a good place to camp, the skies opened up with the brightest of greens and blues casting all across the ocean.
We had about 2 minutes of the lights before they faded back into the ocean mist. Back to the tent for arguments and awkward silences. I didn’t care. I was stoked.