A Scottish Fling

Every now and then, a workshop comes along that reminds me why I love doing what I do. My recent five-day, four-night one-on-one photography workshop in Glencoe with Mike was exactly that — a journey through one of Scotland’s most dramatic landscapes, filled with adventure, learning, and some truly unforgettable moments.

Mike came to this workshop looking for more than just technical instruction. He wanted a real experience — to get off the beaten path, connect with the raw beauty of the Highlands, and come away not just with stronger images, but with a deeper understanding of his craft. That’s the beauty of a one-on-one workshop: it’s shaped entirely around the person, the conditions, and the energy of the place.

We kicked things off photographing ancient castles, wrapped in soft mist and early morning light. There’s something powerful about shooting these time-worn structures — the way the atmosphere clings to the stone, the sense of history in every frame. It was the perfect way to ease into the trip: working on composition, light, and building a visual narrative.

From there, the pace picked up. We found ourselves tracking red deer through quiet glens, carefully positioning ourselves to capture those fleeting, intimate moments without disturbing them. Wildlife photography is always a balance of patience and presence — and Mike handled it like a pro. One moment we were crouched in the heather, cameras at the ready; the next, we were chasing the light over distant ridges, always hunting the next shot.

One night, the aurora made an unexpected appearance. We were out late, staring into a cloud-streaked sky, when a subtle green glow began to build over the peaks. It was faint but magical — and we scrambled to get cameras set, fine-tune our exposures, and just soak in the quiet electricity of the moment. It’s those surprises that make landscape photography so addictive.

As the days passed, we pushed further into Glencoe’s hidden corners. We discovered waterfalls off the tourist trail, where moss-covered stones and diffused light created perfect conditions for slower, more intimate compositions. We experimented with long exposures, explored leading lines, and leaned into the quiet — those small scenes that often say more than the big, dramatic vistas.

What stood out most about Mike was his energy. Whether it was hiking through boggy trails, waking up before sunrise, or staying out late for just one more shot, he brought the kind of spirit that turns a good workshop into a great one. It didn’t feel like work — it felt like two friends chasing light and stories with cameras in hand.

And behind it all, there was the journey itself — and the gear, the planning, and everything that goes into making it all happen. I picked Mike up in Manchester in my van, and from there we headed north through the Highlands. It’s a long drive, but the kind that sets the tone: plenty of time to talk photography, swap stories, and slowly leave the noise of everyday life behind.

Mike shoots with a Canon R6, and had a great setup with him — a 24–70mm for versatility and a 70–200mm for the longer shots. We shared filters, tripods, and ideas along the way, always adjusting based on the light and terrain. Each day started early, with coffee in hand and boots still drying from the day before. We’d check the weather, review locations, and head out — rain or shine. Cameras were cleaned on the dashboard, batteries charged from the van, and plenty of meals were eaten with gloves still on.

There was one moment — somewhere between two waterfalls and a herd of deer — where we both ended up knee-deep in a peat bog, cameras hoisted above our heads, laughing like idiots. It’s those kinds of memories that stick, just as much as the photos.

By the end of the trip, Mike wasn’t just shooting better — he was seeing differently. And for me, that’s always the goal. Glencoe gave us everything: mood, drama, stillness, and space to grow. And Mike brought the rest.

It was a brilliant week — one I won’t forget any time soon.