The Icelandic prints are now on sale. by Neil Alexander

I have finally finished the pushing and pulling of sliders, the captioning and keywording for the IPTC Photo Metadata and am very proud to say that they're up online now ready for you to purchase here.

I'll shortly be releasing some of these as signed small limited edition batches too but as it's half-term and I'm overrun with boisterous children with far too much energy and a Halloween party for about 30 people to prepare for, I'm afraid this is all I have time for this week. 

Don't get spooked.


Did I mention that I'd been to Iceland? by Neil Alexander

Voices Inside My Head. Jökulsárlón, Iceland.

You may have read that I was planning on going to Iceland. I may have mentioned it once or twice. I was very excited just prior to the trip to say the least, and I'm glad I can report that it far exceeded my expectations.

First of all, I did not go alone. While I’m happy to drive from Manchester to the Lakes, Skye or even Ibiza on my own, renting a 4x4 and getting lost on my lonesome half way up a glacier was not top of my list to do. So when I saw that Ken Kaminesky was leading a photo tour round the joint, I jumped at the chance. There was Ken, Patrick di Fruscia and Elia & Naomi Locardi leading the tour, all of whom are awesome photographers, along with myself and nine other photographers from all over the globe hungry for some Icelandic action. Poor Rochelle had even flown for 48 hours from Australia! 

So I viewed this trip in two ways: first and foremost it was a fantastic opportunity to mix with some like-minded folk, see some amazing shit and make some photographs worth selling on my return. And secondly, in case the weather was not on our side, also as a scouting mission should I ever decide that I would like to go back again. That decision was made within minutes of checking into my hotel in Reykjavik and spending a few minutes wandering round the city. Never have I felt less apprehensive walking round a strange land. In fact I felt more comfortable meandering around downtown Reykjavik than I do vast swathes of Manchester. Lovely place. Bet it’s great for a city break weekend. The flight from Manchester is only 2 ½ hours you know.

Driven To Tears.

Hrauneyjafoss, Iceland.

Anyway, I digress. The trip. I really ought to have taken more notes, or even some notes but I relied primarily on GPS to allow me to search place names and background information on my return but in spite of this, there’s some I really can’t caption. The mapping software places the coordinates on the middle of a nameless hill. We had an extremely knowledgeable local guide, Sig from Iceland Is Hot with us the whole time so it was stupid not to have made notes of some kind. That’s me told off.

The scenery around the island is absolutely spectacular and there are more waterfalls than you can shake a stick at. As a famous photographer once said (I forget who. It might’ve been Jim Richardson) “If you want to take better pictures, stand in front of better stuff”. So here I was in front of some jaw-droppingly beautiful stuff and snapping away to my heart’s content. Happy as a pig in shit.

And then I think it must have been the fifth night, the first time I really took a minute to look at the images I'd shot so far. The days had been so action packed that the end of each day had been a case of arrive at hotel after dark, quickly put batteries on to charge, start memory cards downloading and dash off to dinner. On returning from dinner were all so knackered and had such early starts ahead of us that we just crashed. Now bearing in mind that for the previous five days we hadn’t really seen anything other than grey and overcast skies. When I went through my photographs in Lightroom that night I was somewhat disappointed with what I’d amassed. I’ve been at this photography malarkey long enough to know that in spite of the poor light, it is possible to make great images. But I hadn’t. Not even close. To make matters worse I had the opportunity to see what some of the other guys had managed to capture. Several of them had managed to make really great photographs at exactly the same locations I had been,  under the same crap light. I felt low. I had a real “Crap man, I suck!” moment. I felt lower than low. 

Giant Steps Are What You Take....

On the road to Landmannalaugar, Western Iceland.

So I took the plunge. I decided to seek help. I felt like I was drowning under my own negativity, and rather fortunately the very amiable Patrick di Fruscia threw me a life jacket and hauled me back on board. Myself, Jim and Patrick then talked shop until far too late and I crashed into my pit feeling rather more positive, though that may partly have been a result of a few extra Icelandic pale ales (They’re very nice but at £5 a pop, not cheap).

"The afternoon has gently passed me by
The evening spreads its sail against the sky
Waiting for tomorrow
Just another day
God bid yesterday goodbye."

Jökulsárlón, Iceland

The highlights for me were definitely the glacial lagoon at Jökulsárlón and the waterfalls at Hrauneyjafoss. That’s primarily because they’re where I feel I made the best photographs. But to be honest there were so many highlights. We had such a blast. I made friends with people from all over the place and whilst they say that relationships that are formed under extreme circumstances are doomed to failure, I do hope I manage to stay in touch with them all. 


The bloody rain and wind. I don’t mind rain. Nor do I mind wind either. Together, they don’t make it easy to produce good photographs. The first problem is keeping the tripod with camera on top from blowing over. Then there’s the rain. The first time out for my newly acquired (specifically for this trip )  AquaTech SS-200 Sport Shield performed admirably though the clear plastic that’s supposed to sit over the LCD has separated from the cover already. I hoped it would be better made than that but with some carefully applied duct tape, the gap was temporarily repaired. Which was just as well because at Seljalandsfoss  & Skógafoss in particular, I got absolutely soaked to the skin. You just try keeping the front element of your lens dry and make a photograph without splodges of water all over it. It was nigh on impossible.  
And then there was the endless fogging. I found out very quickly that the hotel rooms were so hot that the transition between hot indoors and cold outdoors was a major problem. On early mornings, I often found that my wide-angle lens and the displays on one of my bodies would be completely fogged up no matter what I did. The only solution was to remove the memory cards and batteries on arrival at a hotel and leave the camera bag on the bus where it would stay relatively cool overnight. 

"The young man agreed
He would satisfy their need
So they danced for his pleasure
With a joy you could not measure.
They would wait for him here
The same place every year.
Beneath the sheltering sky
Across the desert he would fly."

Brunnhorn & Vesturhorn, Iceland.

To conclude, Iceland is quite simply a spectacular country and it’s inhabitants a very friendly bunch indeed. I will most certainly be returning in the not too distant future to make those photographs I missed now that I’m a little more knowledgeable as to what I should expect and where I can go. And I wouldn’t hesitate to recommend the guys over at Blame The Monkey if you were thinking of joining them for a photo tour. There wasn’t a dull moment! They have trips planned for next year to visit Italy in May, Bolivia & Chile in August, and possibly a return to Iceland too I heard on the QT.

Note: Some of these images and possibly a few more from the trip will be appearing in my print store pretty soon. Sign up for my newsletter and be the first to know.

Scotland - the best landscape photography in the world? by Neil Alexander

I made these images the other week up in my homeland, Scotland. We parted ways when I was a mere whippersnapper, but I always feel at home here and will always call myself a Scot even though I don't have the broad Glaswegian twang anymore and there are still plenty of places that I have yet to visit. In fact, I feel that the Highlands and Islands of Scotland have some of the most majestic scenery in the world to photograph and with the right conditions there is no other place on the globe like it.

On this trip, I wanted to get some night photographs of the city of Edinburgh and also some sunrise images of the Forth bridges amongst others.

Forth Road and Railway Bridges, Fife, Scotland

The climb to Ben A'an 

I am also scheduled to lead a trip for M&M Photo Tours in April of next year and there were a few spots on the proposed itinerary that I was unfamiliar with. I decided that I would try and kill 3 birds with one stone; get the images I wanted, scope out parts of M&M's proposed route, and see if there was anything that they had omitted that could be squeezed in and would be of value to their clients.

Weekdays are so hectic at the moment that this was going to have to be a weekend trip, so straight after devouring pizza with the kids on Friday evening I jumped in the car and headed North. As I approached the top end of the M6, the clouds parted and I could see tell-tale  pink and orange wisps beginning to form in the sky. Frustratingly though up this end of the motorway, the junctions are miles and miles apart. I came off at the very first opportunity and found myself at the smallest motorway roundabout I have ever seen. After frantically racing around trying to find a suitable foreground element to use in a photograph I stumbled across an old Land Rover in a field, but by this time there were only the remnants of the sunset in the sky and the photograph was not what I had hoped. Ho Hum. Back in the car and continue the schlep up North.

Now normally on a trip like this I'd either camp or kip in the car to keep costs down, but having spent quite a bit of the summer under canvas and stumbling across a rather nice hotel at a bargain price on, I thought I'd treat myself. I eventually arrived at my digs for the weekend around 10, knackered. I checked in, dumped my overnight bag and forced myself to head back out again to recce my plans for dawn.

View of Loch Katrine from Ben A'an

Yours truly atop Ben A'an

 Saturday began with a leisurely start at 5am heading down to a spot that I recce'd the previous evening by the waterside between the two Forth bridges for dawn which was great. Lovely colour in the sky just before dawn itself. Nailed it and back to the hotel for breakfast. I then jumped back in the car for the drive to the car park at the foot of Ben A'an, parked up, grabbed a lightweight pack and began the ascent. It was tough going for a grossly unfit specimen as myself, but the views at the top were stunning. There was a great deal of cloud in the sky, but here and there the sun was doing it's darndest to peek through and it was windy as hell. By the time I'd made my photographs of Loch Katrine and was set to do a 360 pano, there were hoards of people streaming up the hillside. I was astonished. Babies in backpacks, elderly couples, puppies and a coach load of school kids. The numbers very quickly put paid to my pano plans. I'd arrived around 30 minutes too late and the weather was very quickly on the turn. The wind picked up, the sun disappeared completely and the drizzle began. I figured I had enough time for a quick selfie and it was time to get back down the track before the coach parties and rain turned it into an hour long muddy slide. 

Derelict Garage, Lochearnhead

Loch Earn with Meall a' Mhadaidh in the background

 From there I took a rather circuitous route to Oban which is where we will be getting the ferry from over to the Isle of Kerrera and then onto Mull, Iona and Staffa. I found a few interesting bits and pieces on my travels though I'm afraid to say that Oban itself wasn't really one of them.

Next week, I'll be divulging the full details of next April's tour along with some more photographs, so don't forget to swing by next week. Alternatively, subscribe to the RSS feed here, or get posts as they happen in your inbox here