“Very fine rocky shores are the target on this wild stretch of coast, where vile weather can actually make the whole experience more romantic. The quay is a pretty little spot, with Hartland Abbey behind dating back to 1157 and noisy with peacocks. Then it’s all up and down along a three-mile switchback to the lighthouse at Hartland Point. The big grey lump out to sea is Lundy Island. You can wend back inland via Titchberry, Hartland village and other sources of cream-teas.”

for more info see southwestcoastpath.com

In childhood, we had the essential Box Brownie. It had a superb facility for taking landscape and portrait photographs…….. a double prism. This comprised of two minute pieces of bottle glass set on opposing faces near the front of the camera. Landscape meant you turn the camera on its side. And you’ve guessed, portrait gave you the opportunity through manual dexterity of the pinkies to hold the camera upright. Parallax never entered our heads, nor did the fact that the third piece of bottle glass stuffed into the front of the box should have been given the occasional boogie out with a wet piece of cloth. Or emery paper.

In the summer holidays. Unlike most parents nowadays, who would never dare to let their children out of sight, we were barred from coming home until sunset. Indeed, if you did make the mistake of arriving home early. You were found jobs to do, and even today, if you ask any pre-teenage boy, his preferences would not by any quirk of the imagination include jobs.
So, given a few Bob, a pack of crazily cut unbuttered bread, complete with the essential, curly edged, pink spam, and, as a family unit, with my big sister and two older brothers, sans parents, we descended on our local swimming pool. As an additional privilege for this expedition, my parents let us loose with our family heirloom, a decrepit Box Brownie camera, complete with film, in the vague understanding that we would have some summer holiday pictures to show to our seemingly endless parade of ageing Aunts and various Uncles who descended on us when the weather suited them, or someone had died.
The results were museum pieces. We ended up with a series of 2 x 2 grainy pictures with very vague indistinct groups of headless individuals leaning at an angle of 30°, looking as if they were appearing out of a London smog. Oh, I could add one blessing, the camera floated.
This additional previously unknown function of the camera was proved by my brother, when, stepping back to get us all in focus, decided to go for a swim instead. Joined as you can gather by the camera. At least the lens got a clean after all. And the camera was not the worse for its swim.
My next camera given to me by my Aunt Lily was a Polaroid instamatic. I think she won it in a raffle. And my uncle Sid being a skilled photographer, in his own right, decided it should be given away to someone who had no knowledge of cameras, me! It was a subtle choice and cured me of owning a camera for several years. I swear, I still have some of the caustic burns on my fingers to show for my efforts born of trying to peel the backs of those smelly images.
Volunteering and joining the Royal Navy did not change my eventual passion for cameras. Travelling to far-flung places put me into contact with all sorts of exotic and cheap cameras, and I have owned many of them. And lost most.
Whilst in the Persian Gulf, (It was once called that you know) I parted with some hard earned cash and bought a Rolliflex. Known as the look down to look forward camera. This camera travelled with me everywhere and I took some quite notable photographs throughout the Middle East. And, owing to the fact that I only kept contact with my mother every six months… she at least had some pictures to look at. If not of me, she could at least identify the ships cat.
This process worked fine and partially kept the peace until we got back to the historic port of Aden. There we decided to expand our porfolio and pictures from an Eastern place..
My friend, Mike Jones, (a Yorkshire mining lad who had an acquired taste for all that came from hops) and I, were inspecting the inside of a local oasis. Loosely interpreted from the Arabic… it’s a bar. After checking and rechecking the contents of several glasses. We decided to take some photographs for the book.
The “Oasis” was bedecked with coloured flags of several nationalities; probably finger selected carefully by the landlord from the boats in the port at the time. We thought, not wanting to walk too far in the heat that this “Oasis” would make a good starting point for our travel log. Now if any of you knew this area, as was, you’ll know that you are always pestered by guides. Genial little lads who could procure anything for you from a Camel to a Karsy, without so much as a whimper. And show you the Port into the bargain. As we had no need for a Camel, and the Karsy was not on our itinery, it seemed a good idea to ask one of these “guides” to photograph the pair of us in the entrance to the pub.
By slowly, cautiously punctuated, inebriate agreement coupled to lots of pigden English and hand shaking and pointing we asked one of the older boys to take our picture for a bob or two. We showed him how the camera (My beloved Rolliflex) worked and what to press.
He took the camera carefully turning it over to face the lens towards us, grinning as he did so. Then he stepped back several feet, framed us in the viewfinder experimentally, stopped and asked, pointing behind us as he did so “Do you want to include your friend in the picture?” we both looked round searchingly at the curiously empty doorway of the pub behind us, turned back with that stupid question on our lips “Who?” to find the lad had legged it with the camera! Clever lad. He’s probably a multimillionaire by now.

Which is now, why , in later years, we tour the West Country. No, not to get my camera back, but because of the need to take quality pictures. Life’s University is a long
Alma Mater. The knowledge that we began with in that Brownie Box camera grows at each and every turn and we hope sincerely the beautiful images that we produce to inspire you shows that we have learned a little on the way. It’s all at www.rjsw.co.uk.

Mike Tyrrell

The 11 miles walk starts at Porthotham, 5 miles south of Padstow and heads south finishing on the outskirts of Newquay via Trenance and St Mawgan.

See the National Trust site for more details of Carnewas and Bedruthan
Click here to see map (more…)

Okay, I hear you say to yourself, what is he on about now. In defence, I will give you a little example or two.
A close friend of ours, who prides himself on the fact that he has a 200,000 mm lens attached to his camera, a Russian Zenith complete with Blue Label Vodka bottle attached, (Here, I exaggerate slightly), grabbed his camera from its case in our back garden to photograph a few goldfinches who work their way round to our bird feeders. That is after they have noshed on Brian’s (Our neighbour who lives next-door) posh nosh feeders. (My friend lives in Basingstoke, where the birds cough from the motorway fumes to announce their presence) I digress. The look of amazement on my friends face as his camera detached itself from his grasp and went one way, whilst he followed his chosen path and went the other. It was a worthy picture in the making.
The autopsy revealed, over the years that he has had the camera, he had never ever checked that the neck strap was firmly attached. As a consequence, the strap and the camera parted company and camera became spatially aware (A sort of detached branch of Aeroflot in the making) and it took flying lessons. Fortunately no harm was done. As, being a keen gardener our grass had not been cut for a least a week, (or may be a tad more) and it had a soft landing. Lesson learned. Now the straps are “tacked” under the buckle with a bit of blue tack. Unobtrusive, but effective. And not a drop of Vodka spilt.

In addition, a short while ago. Suitably dressed up to the gills against the cold, I heaved a camera into the car and dragged it off down to St Just, in Cornwall. “Just to pop a few pictures into the bag on some Mine workings.” Like all “experts”, (working from the book) I set the camera up beautifully to the correct exposure, then decided to add a filter……… and took a series of posed hopefully “artistic” pictures. I was doing the posing not the camera. One likes to play to one’s audience.
All good clean fun. And, to drag in or out, that terrible old clichéd, panacea for all writers, it was “in the bag.”……. Except, it wasn’t. When, after driving back seventy odd miles, I ran them back into the computer. I realised I had something disgusting, green, and almost invisible, stuck onto the filter. And it showed. (This was probably part and parcel of the joys of showing the filter to our five-year-old granddaughter) Uch! So, you have probably guessed my blog for this occasion. If you really want to know how to waste a day. This is just how you do it. Don’t check your equipment. To add to this mess. I later realised the spare camera battery was also flat. As I always try to rotate the spare battery with its counterpart. I can only assume I had forgot to tag it for charging. Doh! There is a case here, as my Old dad would say. “He who hastens too fast for the brain often becomes a soil analytical expert!”

Now I know this sounds a bit like preaching to the converted, but, lesson learnt. I now, every so often, pull all the equipment out of the bag and check it all through, thoroughly. Taking time to clean both ends of all lenses, and snot covered filters. Also to wash and thoroughly dry the lens cleaning brushes. And, because we live in a less than friendly environment, camera lenses I am not using immediately I pack away in a bag with silica gel.

Which neatly leads me into my next bit of verbally written rubbish. I expect you all know about silica gel. You do? Good! For those of you who hesitated there for a nano second. It is one of those chemical composition materials that apparently have no real magical properties. Except the Chinese and the Japanese and virtually everybody else pack little bags of it in all electrical equipment. For those of you who pull all the wrapping off in a hurry to get to the goodies, that’s the little bag that always falls on the floor as you unpack from whatever it is that you bought and the dog tries and succeeds to groffle it; being sick all over your new carpet in the process.
But, as they say in all the better mags, if used properly and fit for purpose, it can be a tremendous asset to any person who has a camera.
Bob, a friend and customer of mine (Just the one?) who lives in Tavistock, recently explained to me that he had gained a slight amount of moisture inside one of his most favourite telephoto lenses. Traveling to Plymouth to trawl round the various camera fixers, and having been quoted silly money to solve the problem; and, on advice, he locked the lens into a box with a bag of silica gel. Ureka, or some other such nonsensical words in a foreign language, within two weeks of enclosure the moisture had gone. That’s using you nod to save money. Oh, and a simple foot note here. Like most of those in the know, he regenerates his gel in a hot oven. Not with the camera, I hasten to add.
Now onto the more serious stuff.
Next time

See yah out there on your Rainbow Journey.

Mike Tyrrell

Why do we visit on a fairly regular basis? For a beginning Lady Molesworth, is always a very pleasant person to meet. Her experience and cordiality abounds and although she must have several thousand visitors a year passing round the gardens and through the house, she always greets us as if it were only yesterday that we were last here. Which looking at our records of visits is not too far from the truth. But that does not answer the question of why so often. Hm, deep thinking here. It’s probably over ten years ago that we made our first visits. The gardens were then going through stages of metamorphosis. (Being turned from a sows ear to a silk purse. Does no one think of the poor sow in that very old saying……… How unkind.) Anyway to continue. The American Gardens were then a bit of a shambles and the lake was full of silt and mud. Even the tadpoles were using satellite navigational aids and maneuvering at periscope depth instead of doing what tadpoles do. In fact a close friend of ours, Sue from a very posh school in Cheltenham, commented at the time. ” If I wanted to plough fields I could have stayed in Cheltenham on the farm.” Poor girl, turned up dressed for a stroll in the park, not dressed for a roll in the mud for a lark! And it rained! To give Sue the benefit of being a traditionalist and blue knickered; or is that blue stockinged, into the bargain. She followed us down there over a year later and agreed that the Rhodi’s were magnificent and the cream teas from the Cafe yummy! Which they both are.

Driving from a main road, a euphemistic name for the road that runs past the entrance, you travel down nearly a mile of carriageway through a series of rhododendron and azalea bushes that flank you either side of the road. Forming a Cathedral of colour over you head. Usually, by April, they are in their prime. Great splashes of colour that take your breath away for the maturity and proliferation of flower heads. And this year my feelings are, owing to the very mild winter everything will have moved forward a month and will begin to see this incredible display towards the end of February and into the middle of March.

Now, if you have looked at some of our earlier Pencarrow pictures, you will notice one where the trees stand like grey sentinels and are quite ghostly in appearance. This is an area where they found Ancient, early Brits settlements. (we were originally told Iron Age, but if you look in all the later guidebooks, it just refers to an ancient settlement.) Looking carefully you will see a raised mound which was part of the fortified ring used to protect their homesteads. All quite clever really.

What really intrigues us as photographers is the massive collection of flora and fauna and arboreal specimens that have been grown on this estate, to bring these gardens to maturity.
When we were kids, (Good memory required here!) in what was the Garden of England, then known as Kent. (Now, I believe, a suburb of the big smoke, London.) We used to go to a Avery Hill Park. The park and was full of majestic Oak and Sycamore trees some of them, we were told, dating back 150 to 200 years. So it is little wonder that we apply the same fascination to these magnificent gardens. Their maturity and coming of age very apparent.

Just a short distance from Pencarrow house is Bodmin. It’s one of those places that, like Topsy, has grown over the years. Originally quite a small market town, with a picturesque main street. Nowadays it has become a merry-go-round for traffic. It seems to be used as a shortcut by every one. Sited as it is between several major roads. But the most notable feature in the town, is, I am told from those with more experience than I, the Gaol! Now it is a museum but was once a guest house for the unfortunate. A place of confinement that struck fear into the minds of many honest local citizens. In times past, it took little effort to end up as an inmate, incarcerated deep within this austere building. Here you could moulder in your cell for several months before the local judge came round on his circuit. If the Gaol records are correct it took little effort to offend the local gentry to be deported or hung. This year, in keeping with a request from my other reader. We hope to include Bodmin, Gaol and one or two of Henry VIII castles that are not too far distance from this area.

Where ever you walk. Be friendly…

Mike Tyrrell

In some ways we are spoiled for choice. As the heading says “The Road goes forever on!
In the North of Devon and Cornwall we have rugged cliffs, craggy coves, and some incredibly deserted beaches. In the South subtle differences; tighter bays, and more people.

I suppose one of the benefits of living in this most beautiful area is to have the playground to ourselves, once the tourists have gone, so to speak. And out of season we do.

To park a car; releasing the dogs from their temporary captivity, watching them do a lightning recce of the area. then walking down to a deserted beach is magic even if it is raining, it is exhilarating.
To see the same when the sun tinges the top of the steep cliffs with shades of purple before flooding the beach with its soft diffused light is pure magic. Then the bonus. To follow the seasonal ebb and flow of the tides, watching the magical effects on the sand as the sea sculpts it on a whim, is the cream on the cake. I call these sea effect shots, “sand sprites”..
Everything can be done by the sea, from full blown emotive sculpting to twirling nodules of sand; to placing a ripple effect across a sand bar that would have taken us hours, as humans, to perform. Even down to minuscule detail like grading the colour in the sand. And whilst we ar eon that subject.

A colleague of mine, recently down from the big smoke, London, spent a little time down at St Ives. He wasn’t staying with us at the time and was using the time-honoured method travelers use of lodging in B&Bs. On his way back home to the big smoke he dropped in for coffee and a chat. It would be less than honest to say that the topic of conversation did not get round to photography. It did.
In previous years when Mike has made his passing visit, he was convinced that every photograph that we had taken was being computer tweaked for effect. On this visit, he had been enlightened and his tune was different.
Let me explain. Over the winter months because of the Atlantic air, which as you know is very pure, we are blessed with days where, in reminiscence of my being at sea many years ago, we would say “look at that, you can see forever”. And you can!
Mike had just experienced one of these days down at St Ives. He commented to me “The effect was unbelievable, everything was so clear. Now I see what you mean about the light down here. No wonder there are so many painters pursuing their art in various studios dotted all round St Ives”.
Eureka! I would’ve cried. But in my new role of being the more serious studious type, my comments were more mundane, something on the lines of “Smirk, smirk, now you see it, now you don’t”. So……… I am sure you don’t need me to tell you that many of the pictures, in fact most of the pictures you see on our site, are first Prints. That is, not tweaked at all. Not none, no how!

Yesterday, I was at a meeting in Launceston. I won’t tell you what the locals call it as it is nearly impossible to put it into print. Even D’rectly, that lovely Devonian saying when they are not sure when a job should start, means possibly a year later that Manyana. Anyway as I was saying.
My meeting was with a very professional photographer and friend. The well recognised and locally known, Philip Glew. Phil’s speciality is Bridal Art. Some people take photographs at weddings. Phil’s work behind the lens, leaves the family and the happy couple in total bliss, reminiscing for ages over the wonder and splendor on how a camera can produce such beautiful picture. Anyway, again I digress. Where was I! Oh yes.
It was no surprise, the conversation got round to talking about cameras and photography. Just to fill you in on a little bit of the background detail involved with this, I have to tell you that four years of controversy between the “Professionals” has surrounded the method of storing pictures on your camera’s memory prior to bring it back to base for studio work. Some people prefer RAW photography. Others JPEG. So, what’s the difference I hear you say? Well, tis easy. Pictures captured in raw store a huge amount of detail about the picture you have just taken but do not use any specific colour setting, contrast, or white balance correction. Leaving it to the professionals to load it into Photoshop, or one of the other professional programs, to do the business of twiddling the knobs, making a photograph look like a photograph etc Bells, whistles and all.
No, no we said! If you understand your camera, and most of us who use them in the field try to. We would take time to set the camera up to take the photograph correctly in the first place. After all, short of there being a complete change of weather within a few hours of leaving base and arriving at the shoot. There should be no need to tweak the camera to make it do the things that the camera is supposed to do.
Now the purists will climb out of the woodwork at this remark and baffle you with arguments about lossy files and so on. My only comment. As often put by a good friend of mine when he knew I was wrong was “I’m sure you are right.” But if you doubt oh faint and feeble reader, look at the A0 pictures that we produce from our prints. They are mind blowing. You will catch your breath. You will, you will!! They are really stunning. (Trumpet blowing done by author)
So, to continue. Arriving on site, my only interest is what the subject is, and whether to use depth of field focusing, to enhance or deny the background.
And for those of you who are caught out there with the same dilemma. Our advice for what it’s worth. If, you are unsure whether you want to shoot in RAW or J PEG. Take a positive decision initially………… and do both. In all probability, and speaking from our experience, you will probably dump the RAW within short while. The least point of the argument is RAW settings chew up disk space. And, anyway, most cameras today will do bracketing for you. (That’s where the camera would take three photographs in rapid succession. One on the setting you’ve given it, one under, and one over.)
If that doesn’t give you a good result there is always E-Bay.

More soon. Be Happy!

Mike Tyrrell for Rainbow Journeys South West

People often say to me. Have you always taken photographs? I suppose in a way I have. But badly. I joke. I don’t think that I took bad photographs really. I think that sending then off to “Photoosit Prints Guaranteed” or whatever, was the mistake. In photography I use light, colour, and shape, shutter and aperture. And none of these “flash my photograph” company’s really cared about my creativity. It was in the bath, out the bath, in the bath, out the bath, fix, print, and bugger! My film came back with one of those red stickers that said..”We regret to advise you that next doors cat must have peed on your film. Or you used it to take photographs not in keeping with the camera being fully on automatic. It failed.
Being disappointed at the outcome didn’t help and not having a dark room of my own was a drawback. I knew nothing of the skills and culture of developing that could have turned at least one percent of my pictures into something viewable!!
So picture taking from my first Box Brownie up to the horizon of digital was a series of snap it and scrap it processes. In the passing I owned some good cameras. But today, it’s a living and a hobby.

The stupid thing is about the history of photographs; my photographs, is that I have recently recovered some of these failures from the mouldering suitcase in the loft and being of a mean mind that hates waste scanned them digitally. The results show that I was, plausibly, always a photographer. I just did not have the dedication or skills that some of the members of our Phoenix Camera Club, Holsworthy, show when it comes to developing film.
Now digital? Perhaps, what may have something to do with that is I grew up, in my formative years, within the computer industry. And if I may be so bold from my experience let me advise you. Computers are almost human. If you upset them they sulk!! No question about it. If you really upset your computer, you may as well have stuck you neck to the chopping block and told your wife that the dress she is wearing makes her look frumpy. You can hear the bell toll!!
And of course cameras, bless, are small computers. Even those with film in them. That is unless you are really older that me. and are still using the Kodak Box Browney.

More soon.
Mike Tyrrell for Rainbow Journey’s www.rjsw.co.uk

The camera you had almost got hold of will dissappear like a ferret after a rabbit back into it’s box. The manual, still in it little plastic wrapper, will get stuffed in after it. The lid forced down.

“Hmyer hm yer..notyet….nextholiday….when Mabel and I go to France.” He will splurt. Then change the subject “Did I tell you we got a Bargain deal on e-bay. Family of four an six kids and the budgie all in one hotel room for £800,00. If you do manage to get the subject back to the camera he will add. “I promised to get Mabel one too. One of those submarine cameras that will work hung upside down from a balloon suspended in a bucket of water with interchangeable lenses and a stabiliser. Young Robert want one too, he loves the camera and I’ve promised that he can take a few snaps. When we are away”

Now, let me ask you, but you can probably guess, why did I put the word “Photographers” in brackets?

OK, to answer that let’s get into this week’s subject. If you have been following our previous bloggs you will gather that we have a certain level of ongoing interests in what we do. And we take the odd picture in the process. In the last year this runs to about 1,500 plus pictures. That’s not many really when you think about it. Three rolls of film make over a hundred. About 10 to fifteen shoots if you are practical. And a lot of experimentation. So, that still doesn’t explain, why did I use the the brackets?

OK so its a fair cop govenor. Let me come clean. In my opinion, if you spend a lot of money on a beautiful precision made piece of machinery called a camera you should use it. Frisking it out of it’s box occasionally to show your friends that you have a camera: “I’ll show you mine as you have shown me yours” is a waste of talent.
The camera’s and yours. A total waste of the camera’s ability to take pictures and of your own skills to use the camera. You cannot perfect a style if you are pulling a camera out of it’s box only on special occasions! And you did buy a camera to take photographs, didn’t you?

Let me side track you. slightly. Cos there is another type of Photographer. He’ll start usually when you are trying to do some work, by chucking hundreds of minute postcard size pictures on the table in front of you. He will then pretend that he isn’t interested in the outcome of his efforts. That is, until you pick one up! Then he will shift up a gear, move into overdrive, plant his bum firmly on the corner of your desk and you get the life history of the pictures origin and nextdoors’ cats as well.
All good clean fun. Not one of the opictures has been planned. Please note I said planned. Not posed. (That’s another subject) And the pictures………………….are a mess of over and underexposed, out of focus, badly framed images that encompass all the no, noes of photography. This is one of the worst type of photgraphers as he has the kit, very expensive kit at that, but does not want to learn any of the basic rules that make a picture interesting.

Mercifully, for him, (And it could be a her,) Coronations are far apart. And for them there are no profits in Weddings/Funerals Christenings, unless they do them on a weekly basis for charity and free. How many people do you know like this? And what’s the point I hear you ask?

The point is.. (Deep breath here) a camera is a chameleon of devices, an intricate box of hidden skills. A Kalaidocscope of an ingenious magicianOs craft that bends profiles, subverts or enhances colours and uses light to make images that make others go wow! (Look at the Crackington Haven pictures on www.rjsw.co.uk) Yup, really go WOW!
We’ve proved it. By trial and torture. When we enlarge a picture up to A0 size for exhibitions. (That’s over a metre of picture.) It stops crowds. It does………we’ve done it. They all bump into each other going “sorry, sorry”. Jaws slack.
It also reduces footbools hooligans to daisy picking and zips the mouths of politicians. (Doesn’t do any thing for estate agents though. Sorry for that ommission we will try to do better!)
In a word. Or several as you have just read. The impact of a good photograph is magic in the making.

So what is it that makes this transformation? What is it that takes your camera and ability away from the the jaded yesteryear image from just a bit of kit that you show to you friends, to blag the fact that your kit is bigger, better, larger, than their kit, to become a useful item that you’d be proud of.

It’s simple really. It’s…..frequent unabashed use! Don’t be shy. Carry it in your car. In your bag or popcket. When you see something that you like. Think about it, study it, and them record it for later. Your capturing history. Then look at what you have done and look at other professional work that others can do. You don’t need a judge. Your not an idiot. You can see your faults. If you can’t…………. e-bays good!

Yup, that’s it use believe me so use it. You may even enjoy and get to like the idea of becoming a recorder of history and keeping images that you like.

Now take Shirley and Tony. (Don’t go there. Big lad is our Tony. Not to forget Patch the dog. Big smile for his friends. Gnashers for those that aren’t!) T & S are super couple who could not stand being neighbours of ours so they absconded to Spain! Before they went. Boo Hoo! Big party lots of incaholic drunks etc…….cries of kleep in touch ans..sho…on… Shirley looked at one of my camera’s. Poked it at a bowl of fruit (as you do) and took a photograph. Not just producing photograph but a really nice photograph. I still have it.

Now things for T & S, have deteriorated from then. The suns got to them. Gorn down hill, and now they have the bug for using their cameras big style. They now travel all over the remaining parts of the world sending back parcels of incredible picture to the annoyance of our Postman.

So what’s the point? The point is, Shirley, bless her, (Bright for a girl) saw the potential of the camera and learned how to us it. All I can add, and say is; from the results: Natiional Geographical, watch out.

So learn what you camera can do. It’s silly not to, now that digital is here. You can take a hundred shots…………… and scrap the lot if you like! You can set you camera for any setting that you choose and view the results. What does it cost………. a little bit of time. And believe me you will gain experience. You will, you will, you will.

And the bonus. The next time that someone drags their camera out on a………. “You show me yours” basis. You produce your album or CD/DVD of really stunning pictures. Then watch their jaw drop. Let them bump into other people..Hah. You win!

Bye now…More soon

Mike T

Even Greg, who has a skill well beyond being a “Git Biker” (His words not mine) excels. His Hartland Abbey shots are stunning. George too, just to show that Cameras aren’t just the province of the young, has developed his interest into new digital fields having been a stolid film user for many years. He’s a tad over 80 is our George and a more popular well liked person you’d have a problem to find. Then, I could not help but mention Richard. He too works hard for his pictures, winning competition after competition by sheer hard work and his attention to detail.

It is also interesting to see what other, better, photographers can do with portraits. I escape from being criticised here as we, as a Rainbow Team, do not do portraits. No special reasons other than our, joint, liking for the great outdoors. And a love for what nature can do to give us, as Rainbow Journey men/woman, new material each time we venture forth.
And for those of you who don’t understand our love affair with Devon and Cornwall let me explain. Peasants! (I jest)

Recently, at the request of one of our Daughters we went North. Oop North! (Big family do for Christenings etc.)
You know the kind of thing. Tons of posh nosh and clever drinkies with your pinky sticking out. (No Madam,… I did say Pinky) And a load of people who hadn’t met each other for years, living as they do so far Oop Country. So we did it big style. (Give another Kipper to the cat, etc!)
But before we left there was Money changing, passports and border controls, all to be considered. A trip to the Doctors to check that we had had our black water, and Yellow fever jabs. Packed the mosquito nets and malaria tablets and “girding our loins” (That really is a stupid saying) set off. Or is it orf. One can never tell nowadays.
Now at the risk of upsetting those of you that live there, I am sure that Lancashire is a beautiful County. And the Lake district more so. And, after the Christening, that took place with a very very nice service supervised by Punk Vicar in St-Annes-on-Sea, we decided, as Rainbow explorers, that we should go Oop to the Lakes. Now this is rare. I do’t have a particular head for heights and this was seriously North. But we went anyway. Who dares sins and all that old clap trap.
But, be warned, we are time served adopted Devonians on loan from Devon. And Devon is a hard act to follow. And I hate to say it, in Lancahire and the Lakes we were like Turtles on the beach without our shells. Nice area but…………………….
“Hm, I here you say. What does that mean. Lytham is wonderful. Look at the golf course. Are you blind, those Lakes are magnificent?”
OK, ok, so I agree. But…………, but its difficult to put it together in words, unless you have been living down here in Devon and Cornwall for as long as our Rainbow Team. We have talked about this belonging, in other bloggs, and I can explain it best by telling you that we are a multi cultural society in Devon and Cornwall.
Oh yes we are. (And, yes we do let the Welsh live here. They are nice people. Honest)
Remember………..Devon and Cornwall has always soaked up people from all popints in history, and supplied in return a wonderful ambience for living.
If you need more food for thought, remember, that over the centuries you can take a serious look at the number of wrecks that floundered on the craggy rocks of these magnificent coast lines. Wrecks that have spewed forth survivors who staggered up through the surf, arriving wet and bedraggled into the clutches of our local village communities; first to be searched for any wealth or contraband whilst they were still groggy, then to be gleefully grabbed, greedily, by the local village maidens, marched backwards to the local church. (Whilst still groggy) Taught to say “I do” by a big brother. Adding to, in their turn, intelligent multi talented, (Most important) imported, breeding stock.
All of which was a direct challenge to the other available bachelors,…….. the village idiots. Now these poor souls were the end result of too much inbreeding by the original Landed gentry. And, in the face of this challenge from the sea they would have left the community hot foot to get away from these virile mariners by going into the big city. Which is probably now the reason why we have so many mealy mouthed politicians feeding off us in Parliament. (Ooh did I say that. How naughty! Slap wrist.

So in a nut shell. Devon and Cornwall, steeps itself into your soul and you cannot think of living anywhere else. Every one you ask, from no matter where in the country, who has come to live in the South West, all say the same thing. They would not go back.

So Devon and Cornwall hold onto our hearts and minds. And I will give you an example of what I mean. (”Oh no not again.” I hear you cry.) When we go out all kitted up to do a shoot there are sheer volumes of wonderful places to go see and digitally record. So many beautiful places to choose that leave us with problems the night before; poring over maps and routes to decide where and by what road we intend to approach the chosen area. If you have read my previous Bloggs you will understand. It’s all to do with photographic light and time of day. And time of year. After all is said, these are Rainbow Journeys. A quick dash to a spot on the map followed by a scrabble for pictures is not our style.
In our travels we choose carefully, trying to keep a reasonable balance between the places we have travelled to before, and the type of images we have used on our site.

You can see the results and remember we always welcome your input if you think that we have missed something important to do with these beautiful counties or to your area.

More soon

Mike Tyrrell for Rainbow Journeys