Reaching this area was no mean feat, thanks to Bruce Percy of "The Art of Adventure" and Haukur and Skuli from "Nature Explore".

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My Love Affair with Iceland

 

 My first visit to Iceland was in September 2014 and it has been a sort of annual pilgrimage for me ever since and I’ve recently been going on ‘photographic adventures’ with landscape photographer, Bruce Percy, to some of the lesser known locations around the island. The objective of these adventures has been to get to interesting places at the times of day when the light is at it’s best.

This has suited me just right and after many visits, I can honestly say that no superlatives could possibly describe the beauty of the landscape I have seen. I feel drawn back to it the minute my plane touches down in the UK.

  I remember feeling quite overwhelmed by the amount of photo opportunities that presented themselves to me, especially during those first couple of trips. Being in that environment caused a me a great deal of anxiety, as I found myself trying to cram everything into one image as I endeavoured to capture all the big vistas. Now looking back on those early trips I see some fundamental flaws in a number of my photographs. Despite that I still like many of the images that I took, albeit I don’t see the connection with the landscape that I feel has recently developed in my work.

  I have come to realise that developing a connection with one’s surroundings is fundamental to landscape photography. Being in a place for a short amount of time does not serve me well, as I need time. That is a reason I return every year and now I feel it is starting to pay off. I see the benefits of becoming familiar with a place. You develop a relationship with the environment, you deepen your emotional connection and your photography takes on a new direction.         

 

  When I received Bruce’s invitation to his last expedition in February 2017, I asked why he had invited me; thinking he liked my work. He said, “Because you used to be a Fireman and you can look after yourself”. This is typical of his humour, which made me laugh and brought me back down to earth. Naturally I accepted.

Including Bruce, we were a group of six photographers plus two skilled guides who accompanied us and drove the two 4X4 super trucks rigged with all the food and equipment needed to withstand the depths of winter in Fjallabak, in the Central Highlands.

  The plan was to go where no one had been before. During the summer months, vehicles are not allowed off the dirt tracks due to soil erosion protocols and heavy fines are imposed on those who do. They don’t even want footprints as it take thousands of years for them to erode. During the winter months, these areas are covered in several metres of snow. So, all we needed was a vehicle that could get us there and back. We had that, so it was agreed why not try.

 

  Our destination was a cabin in Dalakoffin, deep in the Fjallabak region. This is located in the south, normally a summer camping place for hikers, now a welcoming refuge for us. There was no guarantee we would get there due to the severe weather conditions and terrain. Nevertheless, after a long day negotiating snow bridges over rivers we arrived in one piece. We knew we were the first (besides the locals) to have ever been there in winter, as one of our guides runs the cabin in the summer months and he assured us that there had never been any previous attempts to get photographers like us there. For safety reasons, two vehicles are required, which makes it hugely expensive for the average photographic party. We were blessed to have this experience of a lifetime.

 

After the first day’s shooting, we started to venture further afield into what could only be described as ‘an extreme minimalist wilderness.’ It took a while to become accustomed to the lack of detail in the surrounding snow covered environment. However as we continued and became acclimatised, the compositions became clearer.

 

   The lack of detail was quite exciting as interesting graphical features began to imerge from the snowscape. On many occasions when we stopped, everybody would jump out and point their cameras in completely different directions, which just goes to show not everyone sees the same.

Snow blowing off the black volcanic ridges and mountains left a white landscape surrounding them and when combined with the white-out conditions, made them look as if they were hovering in mid air. This landscape put me in mind of an artist’s brush strokes across a white canvas and when I look at the images I took there, I am reminded of that feeling and how it impacted upon what I chose to capture.

 For most of the trip, the weather kept us from seeing further than a few hundred metres. I think this was the turning point, which allowed me to really engage with this environment.   

 

 Soon it was time to return to civilisation and just to remind us of how far we were off the beaten track, the snow bridges over the river had collapsed and once again, we had to dig out ramps in the embankments to get the vehicles across. As we ventured south, the weather began to clear and the volcano’s Krafla, Hekla and the infamous Eyjafjallajokull began to appear. Travelling over the dirt tracks took several hours to reach the main roads, but these three giants always remained in our view.

 

Hekla frequently had cloud formations above it and looked like it was threatening to erupt. However, our guides reassured us if it were active, we would not have been there. Standing 4,882 ft, it is one Iceland’s most active volcanos. Apparently, it has erupted every 10 years since 1970, last erupting in 2000 and is now thought to be overdue.

  We had wanted to stop and photograph this area but had hot showers awaiting us in our hotel in Reykjavik, followed by planes to catch. On the return journey the temperature had climbed from well below zero in Fjallabak to a balmy 7°C in the capitol and it felt like an almost tropical way to end our trip.  

 

On my return home, I took my time processing my images and was struck by the progression I could see from previous years through to the present day. I believe Iceland has really helped me evolve as a photographer. Before travelling through this extraordinary landscape, I was always looking for the big picture and often missing the smaller details. Now when I have a camera in my hand, I am much more aware of shapes, curves, textures and the importance of tones. It has been a steep learning curve, one that I have thoroughly enjoyed and so it will come as no surprise to hear I will be back there later this year, in order to continue my pilgrimage.