I have divided this Blog into 5 sections, after initially setting the scene of the trip. Click on the section(s) below which you would like to read. If you prefer not to read any text, simply click on the first Bergen image and all the images contained in my blog will be available to view.
Reuniting with a photographer friend
In 2000 I was based in the south of Lofoten, while Eva was in a more central spot. We were eager to find a location that would allow us the opportunity to explore in all directions. Accommodation beside the sea and with mountains behind on the east coast of the island was chosen. Our choice was a "Rorbuer", a traditional, bright red Norwegian house previously used as temporary housing for fishermen during the fishing season.
A hire car was booked and we started to make lists of places to where we wanted to travel during the 10 days we would be staying on the island. Instead of flying straight to Lofoten, we were going to travel on the "post" ship, MS Polarlys. Over the course of three nights, we would journey by sea to our destination, departing from Bergen on February 27th. By arrriving in Bergen a few days before the ship's departure we would have the chance to meet with photographer friends who had also been in Lofoten around the same time 5 years previously.
A stopover in Oslo was the final part of the plan. We could explore this city rather than simply pass through as we had previously. We were full of anticipation and dreams of what might await.
1. Bergen, Norway
The anticipation had been building for weeks. Finally, I was touching down in Bergen, Norway, ready for an adventure with Eva. While her flight had arrived a few hours earlier, the slight delay only amplified the excitement for what lay ahead. As soon as we were reunited, our Norwegian journey officially began.
Our home for the next couple of nights was a modern apartment on the sixth floor. The real selling point? Its prime location right next to Puddefjorden leading to the centre of Bergen.
It was late by the time we’d arrived, the Norwegian twilight already painting the sky in hues of deep blue and indigo. But there was no thought of rest. Even from the living room, glimpses of the shimmering water and the surrounding mountains were enough to ignite our photographic passion. Armed with our cameras and tripods, we wanted to capture the beauty of Bergen at night. Unpacking was a quick affair, driven by the urgency to witness the city from a higher vantage point.
Without hesitation, we ascended to the rooftop terrace on the 15th floor eager to see what awaited us. As the elevator doors opened, we were greeted by a breathtaking panorama.
The city lights twinkled against the backdrop of the inky fjord as clouds scudded by. The distant mountains, silhouetted against the lingering twilight and the striking light of the ski resort, added a sense of dramatic scale. It was a photographer's dream.
That first night on the roof terrace was a perfect introduction to Bergen. It was a promise of the adventures to come, a glimpse into the wonders that Norway had to offer. It was a reminder that sometimes, the best experiences are the unplanned ones, the moments seized from the tail end of the day, driven by a shared passion and the irresistible lure of the perfect light. As we stood there, looking out at the soft glow of Bergen at night, we knew this trip was going to be something truly special.
The next morning we'd arranged to meet with Åse one of our Norwegian photographer friends. Åse was going to show us areas in Bergen which were apparently not well known even to all the locals.
To see a place through the eyes of a local is a privilege. It was a dull, rainy day, exploring with Åse however, created a brightness making everything and much more enjoyable. We climbed through woods, saw waterfalls, plenty of reflections and areas so typical of traditional Bergen. Åse dropped us off back at our apartment and we arranged to meet the next day for a guided tour of Bergen city centre and waterside. To complete the end to another great day, we were even treated to a beautiful rainbow right in front of us as we entered our apartment.
The next day, we were set for another dull and rainy day, it seemed. Then Åse arrived, a beacon of light and enthusiasm ready to transform the mundane into an adventure. We piled into the car, our destination: the heart of the city, for exploration even under a weeping sky.
The puddles weren't just reflecting light; they were reflecting the city's soul, illuminated by Åse's insightful commentary. She transformed a simple walkabout into an engaging history lesson, a captivating urban exploration, and a reminder that even the most ordinary days can be extraordinary when viewed through the right lens.
We joined forces later in the evening for a pizza when Merete, another photographer friend joined us. Our original plan – a scenic train ride to a high vantage point overlooking Bergen – seemed increasingly unlikely. We chatted about photography, travel, and the simple joys of good company. The pizzas vanished, plates were cleared and we reluctantly made our way outside to brave the weather. And that’s when a bit of magic happened. Stepping outside, we were greeted by a sight that lifted our spirits further: the rain had stopped! Seizing the moment, we made a quick dash to the Fløibanen funicular, the train that would whisk us up the mountainside. The anticipation was palpable as we boarded, the carriage steadily climbing, offering glimpses of the city below. From the viewing point, Bergen unfolded before us – a tapestry of colour, glistening harbor waters, and dramatic mountain peaks. The rain-washed air felt crisp and clean, offering a clarity that heightened the beauty of the scene. Embracing the moment had led to a perfect ending to an unforgettable day. The photo that Merete took of three of us taking photos at the view point was featured on Norway's "Good morning Norway" TV2 television programme. She'd made us celebrities!!
We weren't due to check in for our cruise ship until mid-afternoon and while we had to say a sad farewell to Åse the previous evening, Merete and her husband, Odd Eivind, weren't quite ready to let us go. They had a surprise planned: a trip to the stunning Steinsdalsfossen Waterfall just outside Bergen about an hour's drive away. It was raining as we left the car park and walked towards the waterfall. The roar of the cascading water grew louder as we approached, a symphony of nature's power and beauty.
And then we saw it.
We stood there, mesmerised by the spectacle. The spray from the falls reached our faces and the sound was both deafening and extraordinary. We took photos, of course, but no picture could truly capture the raw power and breathtaking beauty of the scene. We walked up a path to reach the closest point next to the waterfall. The path behind the waterfall was closed, however the inability to walk behind the waterfall did little to diminish the overall experience. Seeing the sheer scale and raw power from our vantage point was enough. We were close enough to feel the vibrations in the ground.
Heading back towards Bergen there was another stop at the "Bride's Veil" waterfall. As we approached the waterfall, snow began to fall. At first, it was just a subtle sprinkle, however as the car came to a halt, the snowfall intensified dramatically.
Stepping out of the vehicle was like entering a completely different world. Huge, fluffy snowflakes descended with surprising speed, blanketing everything in a pristine layer of white. The air was filled with a hushed stillness, punctuated only by the rush of the waterfall and our laughter as we watched the snow fall around and on us. It was truly magical and seemed like the final gift on this leg of our Norwegian tour.
Bidding farewell to Merete and Odd Eivind at the port we were so grateful for their generosity. They had gone above and beyond to make our trip to Norway unforgettable and this final adventure, this chasing waterfalls before setting sail, solidified their place in our hearts alongside that of Åse. Our Norwegian friends had given us unforgetable memories which would long remain with us.
2. Polarlys: A Maritime Adventure
27th March - 2nd April, 2025
I couldn't believe at first that I had signed up for a trip on a cruise ship; I'd understood that it was a post ship and had a vision of a working boat with a few berths for paying passengers! I was wrong! We checked in, found our cabin and sorted ourselves out. The ship set sail at 20.30. As we watched we recognised some of the landmarks we'd visited in Bergen slowly disappear into the night. We retreated to our cabin and settled in for our first night aboard.. The gentle rhythm of the ship was the perfect lullaby, quickly ushering us into a deep and restful sleep.
A few short stops at Florø, Måløy and Torvik in the night hadn't disturbed us. The next morning, a veil of low clouds hung heavy over a churning sea. As day slowly broke, the gloom began to lift, revealing magnificent mountainous scenery that seemed to rise directly from the water.
We were headed into Alesund, a town that held the promise of new adventures. We were excited as we anticipated meeting Rune, a Norwegian photographer friend who had generously offered to be our guide. As our ship docked, there he was, a smiling face in a new landscape. Rune greeted us with the reassuring words that he had the day completely sorted, ready to share the best of his hometown with us. Rune truly immersed us in the local culture. Our adventure was a whirlwind tour, encompassing everything from an historically rich Viking village to the rugged beauty of a remote coastal area. He led us to a breathtaking viewing point perched high above the town, offering panoramic vistas we won't soon forget. And after all that exploring, we gratefully settled into a small, welcoming bar/restaurant where the simple pleasure of fish and chips was the perfect meal. Exploration of the harbour area followed and revealed fascinating details, like the curious warmed seating areas, a communal spot equally appreciated by locals and the ever-present pigeons. By the time we made our way back to the ship, we were undoubtedly a tired but satisfied group, bidding farewell to Rune with heartfelt gratitude for his friendship and company as well as an insightful and comprehensive tour.
After the all day stop in Alesund, there were short stops during the night at Molde and Kristiansund. Seas were rough as the ship negotiated inland waterways. We passed the impressive Kjeungskjær Lighthouse, a testament to maritime history. Constructed in 1880 and only automated in 1987, this lighthouse served as a crucial source of guidance in this challenging stretch of the Norwegian coast. Our arrival in Trondheim granted us a three-hour window to explore the city, however we opted to remain aboard, content to capture the picturesque scenes unfolding from the ship's deck through the lens of our cameras.
Brief night stops at Rørvik, Brønnøysund, Sandnessjøen and Nesna barely registered, our sleep remaining undisturbed through the night. However the quiet routine was broken just after 7:30am as we crossed the invisible threshold of the Arctic Circle. Eager to witness the event, I had been on deck watching the day unfold and the moment of crossing draw near. The globe-shaped monument on Vikingen Island, a marker of the 66°33'N latitude, stood as a silent sentinel to this significant passage. A Norwegian gentleman raised his glass as a toast to the crossing and happily shared the moment with me and my camera! Fortunately, the clouds had also parted, allowing me to capture my first Arctic sunrise of the trip, a vibrant welcome to this northern land.
After the excitement of crossing into the Arctic Circle a baptism ceremony was held for those people wishing to participate. A gleeful, if slightly sadistic energy filled the air as those daring (or perhaps foolish) enough to accept the icy challenge gathered. The ritual involved a generous dousing of ice water and ice cubes ladled down the back by the ship's captain. With a firm resolve to remain warm and dry, I opted to watch and record events with my camera!
Following the crossing ceremony the journey continued with a brief stop at Ørnes before we set course for Bodø. I stayed on the upper deck and enjoyed watching as the landscape transformed, becoming more and more dramatic. The Arctic light, with its subtle and ethereal hues, painted the sky and sea in a breathtaking display. As we neared Bodø, I noticed a plane ascending from the airport, a seemingly insignificant detail at the time. Little did I know that I, too, would be soaring into the sky from that very airfield when our Lofoten adventure drew to a close.
Despite being scheduled to disembark in Svolvær, a twist of fate allowed us to reach our Lofoten haven sooner than expected. The Polarlys, our Hurtigruten ship, made a stop at Stamsund prior to Svolvær. Stamsund is a port conveniently located just a short 20-minute taxi ride from our reserved accommodation. Seizing the opportunity, we pre-arranged a taxi to meet us at the harbour, bid farewell to the ship as it continued its journey and embarked on a quick ride to our destination. The early arrival was a welcome surprise, filling us with anticipation as we realised: we had finally arrived in the breathtaking Lofoten Islands!
3. Lofoten
2nd March, 2025
The soft, inviting lights within the traditional Rorbeur beckoned us inside from the crisp Norwegian air, promising shelter and comfort for the next ten days. More than just illumination, the gentle glow seemed to emanate a sense of history and belonging and we felt immediately comfortable within its walls. The warmth of the wooden structure radiated beyond mere heating; it was palpable, a silent testament to the life lived within its walls. We understood immediately that this was no mere rental, but a cherished home, entrusted to our care. A responsibility settled upon us, a commitment to respect both the physical space and the unseen echoes of the family who had woven their lives into its very fabric. We would tread lightly, mindful of the memories held within, and ensure that we returned it with the same love and respect with which it had welcomed us.
3rd March, 2025
The next morning dawned bright but blustery and we were both awake before sunrise, eager to explore our new home. Large picture windows framed breathtaking views, a panorama of rugged land meeting the sea. A strong wind caused the house to rattle and shake in protest. Underneath the house, waves lapped and surged. After four days of movement on the ship, the feeling of being adrift at sea lingered, a curious and slightly unsettling reminder of our recent journey. Even on solid ground, the sea's rhythm resonated within us.
We had been offered a lift into nearby Leknes to collect our hire car. Formalities complete and shopping chores done, we were finally ready to adventure out, the landscapes and soft light of Lofoten beckoning us – camera in hand, eager to capture the raw beauty that awaited.
The small fishing port of Mortsund was our first stop, a humble cluster of brightly colored buildings clinging to the rugged coastline. Not far from our base, it felt like a gentle introduction, a scenic appetizer before the main course. It gave us our first taste of what awaited us as we sought to use our photographic skills to capture the beauty of Lofoten.
Also here was another photographer and his partner. After commenting on the beautiful light we went our separate ways. Later, as we walked behind the couple, the man suddenly bent over and gave out a heartfelt roar. Asking if we could help elicited an abrupt "no" and they walked on in animated discussion. The only thing I could think of to cause such pain, was that there was a realisation that after a morning photographing, the SD card was missing from the camera!
The wind abated and the sun appeared. Seizing the opportunity afforded by this sudden shift in weather, we resolved to make the most of our first full day. The destination? Ballstad a large fishing village, said to be even more picturesque than our current location, beckoned with the promise of new sights and experiences not least a huge mural of a cat.
The sun was lowering in the sky as we arrived at Ballstad. Initially, I struggled to pinpoint the perfect subject for my photos. The port was picturesque although very much a working zone. Wooden structures lined with drying fish catching the last rays of sunlight were testament to the hard work of the fishermen. Then, my gaze drifted to the still waters of the harbor, where the world was mirrored in perfect clarity. As the sun dipped further below the horizon, casting long shadows, the true beauty of Ballstad began to emerge, a serene and captivating spectacle that afforded many photographic opportunities.
4th March, 2025
The world had undergone a silent transformation overnight. We woke the next morning to a changed vista; a blanket of snow had fallen, draping everything in a pristine, white hush. I instinctively grabbed my camera, eager to capture this new, beautiful landscape. Stepping out onto the untouched snow felt like entering a dream, the crunch underfoot the only sound breaking the stillness. I wandered, searching for the perfect perspective to showcase this transformed reality, a world suddenly softened and cleansed. The snow ploughs had yet to pass and I watched as a car slowly came by making tracks in the snow to add to my footsteps. The spell broke, it was time to be practical. The car had to be prepared to venture into this new white world! With a sense of anticipation brimming, we set off towards Nusfjord, another of Lofoten's charming fishing villages, eager to see how the snow had painted this unique corner of the island.
En route, we pulled over at a secluded beach, eager to immerse ourselves in its different type of beauty. We explored the shoreline looking for details to enhance our images. Our tranquility however, was short-lived. The arrival of mini buses, each disgorging hordes of tourists, signaled our cue to depart.
We pressed on, eventually reaching Nusfjord. However, disappointment awaited us at the village entrance. Five years had passed since my last visit and a significant change had occurred: an entrance fee was now required to enter the village. The reason for this new policy remained unclear, but I couldn't shake the feeling that it was a detrimental step. Reluctant to pay, I decided to seek out photographic opportunities from the periphery, hoping to capture the essence of Nusfjord without crossing the newly established threshold.
Leaving Nusfjord, we retraced our route, now determined to find the elusive iconic road that snaked into the mountains. We'd somehow missed it on our initial journey, but this time, we were successful. We captured the images we envisioned, the road a dramatic scar on the landscape, before continuing our coastal exploration. The rugged shoreline captivated us, with waves relentlessly crashing against the rocks and scattered puddles offering serene reflections of the dramatic Lofoten sky and mountains.
As we approached the turnoff for Ballstad, a sense of unfinished business pulled us back. We felt we hadn't fully explored its southern reaches and decided to revisit, hoping to uncover hidden gems and finally reach the southernmost point to complete our exploration of the area. I also flew my drone for the first time away from our own haven. Almost home again and a final stop at a place I'd named "the inlet". It had always caught my eye in passing, however this time we stopped and I took a photo as the light, snow and water made a perfect picture.
5th March, 2025
Daylight came and gave the landscape a cold, crisp vision, the stark beauty of winter undeniable. As we discussed the day's itinerary, fat snowflakes began to fall, transforming the scene into a picturesque snow globe. We watched for a while as we waited to see the impact on the roads outside. Fortunately, the roads remained passable and we headed out for our planned excursion to Henningsvaer. The drive itself was a reward for having decided to go. The views were breathtaking as we navigated the winding roads, eventually stopping to fly my drone and capture the majesty of two impressive bridges arching gracefully over the water. The wind began to increase as we neared our destination, whipping the sea into a frenzy, sending waves crashing against the jagged rocks.
We found the football pitch, the focal point of our destination. Seeking out higher ground in order to capture its essence and a panoramic view, the wind hit us with force. It was a stunning vista, but not ideal for drone photography. Reluctantly, I decided to keep my drone grounded, the blustery conditions a significant deterrent. Whispers of a local resident, a watchful guardian of the airspace above her home, further cemented my decision. Best to respect her peace and avoid any unwanted confrontations.
We wandered the town itself enjoying watching the activity at the small harbour instead, until large groups of sightseers were bussed in and became difficult to avoid.
Our hopes were high as we steered towards the Isle of Gimsøy and the promise of a stunning sunset photography session. Time, however, was against us and the daylight was quickly fading upon our arrival. While the sunset itself didn't deliver the dramatic explosion of colour we'd envisioned, the ethereal light palette that unfolded as the sun dipped below the horizon more than compensated. Delicate snow showers began to drift our way, adding a magical, almost painterly quality to the landscape. The subtle hues and the soft falling snow created an atmosphere of serene beauty, transforming our almost-missed sunset into a truly memorable experience.
We headed towards a lighthouse on a rocky outcrop inaccessible from land. I flew my drone close enough to identify objects next to the lighthouse, one of which was allegedly the skeleton of a whale.
As we continued to navigate the island's singular road a lake shimmered into view, its surface a mirror reflecting the fading light with breathtaking clarity. Drawn in, I picked my way through an expanse of heather, conscious of the unseen water lurking beneath. Reaching as far as I could go, although the vantage point was not ideal, it was still spectacular. I decided to launch my drone for a higher perspective, however as it ascended, a sudden snow shower came in swallowing the scene in a flurry of white. Disappointed, we remembered the Butterfly House, a missed landmark and turned back, hoping to find it before darkness completely consumed the landscape. We located it, but it was now in the shadow of the mountain behind. Using the car headlights for some illumination, we were able to take photos although the harsh glare destroyed any sense of the soft atmosphere that surely graced the building in better light.
Having closely monitored the Aurora forecast throughout our stay in Lofoten, a weak Aurora was expected. We didn't hold out much expectation although a sense of hope filled the air and we kept a close watch on the night sky. The moment a delicate green hue appeared we sprang into action, hurrying outside to position our cameras. Our chosen location was perfect; framed by majestic mountains and dotted with small cabins, it offered the ideal foreground to compose a truly captivating Aurora display. We held our breathe, ready to capture the magical dance we hoped would soon unfold before us. We weren't disappointed and the Green Lady held us captive, a flickering world so vibrant and enthralling that time ceased to exist. However, even the most captivating spell eventually breaks. We watched until we could watch no more, our senses overloaded, our emotions wrung dry. Satiated, yet weary, we crept to bed well after midnight. The real world felt strangely muted after the extraordinary journey we'd just taken together.
6th March, 2025
We shook off the remnants of a late night and geared up to explore the southern areas of Lofoten. Our mission was to capture the magic of iconic locations bathed in the glow of the blue hour. We anticipated a few stops en route and culminating in a late-night return, driven by the promise of unforgettable images painted across the Arctic sky. The allure of Lofoten's beauty, especially when draped in the indigo hues of twilight, was a more than worthy trade for a few hours of sleep.
There was only one other car at the church at Flakstad and it soon left. I seized the opportunity to fly my drone, hoping to capture an aerial perspective and gain a better sense of the dramatic surrounds. Before long, however, the tranquil isolation was broken as more vehicles began to arrive. We continued our journey along the winding coastal road, the majestic, snow-laden mountains forming a breathtaking panorama. Stopping briefly at Ramberg Beach, the sun came out and provided the opportunity to capture mountain reflections in the wet sand.
I tried to capture different angles of the iconic scene from Hamnøy Bridge and thought about flying my drone. The wind was strong however and I didn't want an image sufficiently badly to take a risk. Continuing our journey, we headed towards Sakrisøy, a place etched in my memory from a past incident involving a wet boot! Unfortunately, snowfall hampered our plans and with parking impossible, we pressed on to Reine, hoping for different conditions. We were met with sweeping snow showers instead and turned to head back towards our base. The setting sun offered a fleeting, vibrant display before vanishing, leaving us with a final, memorable glimpse of the day's beauty.
Although disappointed not to be able to photograph in the blue hour, mother nature had another trick up her sleeve! As if to compensate for the earlier missed opportunity, she unveiled a different kind of magic. The Green Lady, in all her ethereal glory, graced the skies with her presence. While the display was fleeting, a mere whisper compared to previous encounters, we stood in awe, grateful for this unexpected spectacle, a reminder that even in the absence of one dream, another can take its place, equally captivating and unforgettable.
I wanted to see how my drone performed when it's dark. I knew some of its functions wouldn't work, however wanted to give it a go. The control panel offered little assistance, and despite my best efforts to adjust the settings, the live feed seemed to indicate a complete failure. Disheartened, I packed up, assuming the experiment hadn't worked. However, the next morning, as I began editing my Aurora images, a pleasant surprise awaited. There were workable shots captured by the drone, proving that even in the face of apparent failure, a glimmer of success can emerge. I had even captured a slight hint of the Aurora, invisible to the naked eye!
7th March, 2025
We awoke to a stunning sunrise. I flew my drone to try and capture more of the beauty opened up before us. What a way to start a day!
After the previous long day we decided to not venture too far and opted to head for Uttakleiv Beach. I'd been here previously and waited in turn to take a photo of the famous "Viking Eye". I wasn't impressed then and I was even less impressed as we drove up to the unmanned entrance and tried to use the unfathomable ticket machine. We could only get a ticket which would give us 5 mins of parking time! When we saw people standing in a queue ahead, we decided it was a photo opportunity we could do without. Instead we stopped at the nearby Haukland Beach (which was free!) and played around with images of sand and water. There was a cold wind blowing across the beach and we felt our time could be spent keeping warm as well as exploring potential areas for night photography and the possible appearance of the Aurora. Heading back to our home base, we stopped off at Mortsund to assess Aurora potential. I took the opportunity to fly my drone as well! The last stop was at a Ure, a small village located opposite from our home base
8th March, 2025
With strong winds and plenty of clouds, we headed out early to see if we could make some long exposures at sunrise. Our hope was to capture the drama of the sunrise with long exposures, but the conditions proved too chaotic. Disappointed, we retreated back to our temporary haven and breakfast. Back inside, I browsed over maps and articles, searching for a new adventure. My eyes landed on a peculiar landmark: a metal sculpture mounted on the side of a mountain. The image sparked our curiosity and with the photography outlook bleak, we decided on a new mission of "chasing the light" both literally and metaphorically. The sculpture itself was intriguing, but the unexpected bonus was the discovery of plenty more beautiful areas for potentially amazing photographs in differing light.
In the evening the weather brightened and we headed to the opposite side of the bay from our home base. We were hopeful of the Aurora appearing, however breaks in the cloud cover were sporadic. The village of Ure was only a ten minute drive away and we arrived just before the blue hour to choose our spot for later.
We were not disappointed as the Green Lady began to slowly show herself. Cries of "yes" rang out as she became bolder and started to dance. She was fickle however and had us rushing to the various spots we'd previously noted as she disappeared and reappeared elsewhere, a fleeting vision against the vast, star-strewn sky.
After another unforgettable display of the Aurora, we headed back to our home base. I didn't immediately take my camera inside as there were still some night shots I wanted. Apparently, the Aurora wasn't the only thing dazzling that night though, because when I finally went inside, I realised my camera pack, complete with personal documentation, was missing. Cue a frantic search! After quick look outside, we were on our way back to Ure to revisit our photoshoot positions. No sign of my backpack. Of course. It was back to our base, thoroughly convinced I was losing my mind. I took another look at the back of the house and there it was – my backpack, neatly sitting on a bench out of the snow. Clearly, the Aurora had scrambled my brain cells more than I thought!
9th March, 2025
The stress of the previous night was completely forgotten the next morning when we awoke to a blanket of snow covering everything. It was magical. The world was hushed, muffled by the thick layer of white. After taking photos with my camera, I flew my drone. The beauty from on high was simply breathtaking. Snow showers were sweeping in, however they cleared and the sun came out. The car was soon packed and we were off on the snow covered roads heading for Fredvang and the area we had discovered the previous day. We had a full day trying to capture the beauty through our images because it's all but impossible to describe with words. Everywhere was so still in the bright sunshine and we were often reluctant to move on to another spot. Each bend in the road opened up another vista and we continually stopped both to take photos and fly my drone.
We found a great spot in Fredvang where I could finally take images with snow covered grass tufts providing a beautiful foreground. They'd been elusive up until now, never quite reaching the vision I had in mind!
Night had fallen by the time we headed back to our home base. However before we reached our haven, we stopped at the highest point on our route to take a night panorama of the lake below.
Eva also persuaded me to have a try at creating a face sculpture in the snow. Suffice it to say that although it was a lot of fun, my attempt was nowhere near as successful as the rest of the day had been!
As we headed down the mountain and neared our home base, we decided that as the day had worked out so well, we were sure to see the Green Lady dancing again. Heading to Ure again, we picked our spot and waited. It didn't look as if we'd be in luck and so I started to photograph the area around where we had parked the car. It seemed our luck had run out for the day, however the short drive back to our home base made all the difference, we could see the Green Lady had come out to play again. She must've been tired as we were by then, because although we could see hints of her, she never fully came out again.
10th March, 2025 It was another beautiful morning to welcome us. I flew my drone because I wanted to fly as far away as I could to get our home base within as much surrounding scenery as possible. As I flew, so I saw a fantastic group of clouds carrying snow, developing on the horizon. The sun behind created a compelling image.
The weather forecast wasn't good, however we decided to gamble and just go; we could always turn back if bad weather came in. We were off to Solvaer, the place where Eva and I had first met all those years ago. Taking the scenic route we stopped to enjoy clear views and lower temperatures meant there was now more ice forming. I was able to find some lovely patterns flying with my drone. Enjoying the scenery and watching the weather we stopped to take photos of reflections. Shining in the distance was a structure which was definitely not natural. Apparently we had stumbled upon the Lyngvær Mirror. It's a large concave mirror and from behind it is transparent. In other viewing directions the surrounding landscapes are reflected. We had a lot of fun trying to capture ourselves in the reflections. The weather started to close in whilst we were in Slovaer and we decided to start our return journey. We stopped at a small port where Eva knew there would be a chance for reflections. We made a stop at the Lofoten Aquarium at Kabelvag and although it was closed, there was still access to the grounds where I made conversation with an otter! Heading home the snow fell thick and fast. It made for some beautiful sights as the sun started to go down. When we reached the high point before our run downhill and back to our base home, we were just in time to catch the last rays of the sun as it disappeared behind the mountains.
11th March, 2025
We hadn't made any photography plans for the day; we needed to get the house and ourselves ready for an early morning departure the following day. We awoke to ice flows forming in front of our accommodation! After a while indoors however, I felt the pull of the outside and went walking with my camera. I wanted to try and imprint everything in my mind
A weak Aurora was just visible on our last night. We have been treated to a fantastic display and I like the comment someone made that, the Green Lady is fading as she shares our sense of sadness at leaving this beautiful part of the world.
4. Oslo
12th March, 2025
A last look out of the picture window and a photo taken before my camera gear was stowed away and we headed for the airport.
The plane was a small propellor type and although we could see it through the window, it didn't stop me taking photos with my iphone en route!
With a 35 minute stop at Bodø en route we completed our flight to Oslo by midday. After a taxi to our central area apartment we were ready to unpack our cameras and go and explore. It meant a switch of thinking from magnificent pristine landscapes to solid, concrete structures.
13th March, 2025
We were out bright and early to wander again, our eyes scanning for the next captivating image. The sun felt deliciously warm on our faces, a welcome contrast to the persistent Arctic wind that whipped off the fjord. We'd booked a tour on one of the large sailing ships, long past its heyday and claimed a table and bench seats on the aft high deck. There were blankets placed on the seats giving an idea of what to expect!
After the fjord tour, the promise of warmth led us first back to the apartment and then to a cozy Thai restaurant where we enjoyed authentic food. When we left the restaurant the sun was setting, lighting up riverside housing. Alongside the water, inviting plumes of steam billowed from the numerous saunas. The plunge into freezing Norwegian water didn't deter the locals! We watched, mesmerized, as one hardy soul emerged from the fiery interior and climbed into the icy water. His splashing feet sent pieces of ice swirling around him. It made me shiver just to watch! Later, the moon hung like a golden coin as we looked out from our apartment balcony. A partial eclipse was due in the pre-dawn hours; I only briefly thought about getting up to take photographs! Our last view of Oslo's skyline was from the apartment's upper terrace. Even the towering cranes, symbols of urban industry, contributed to the night scene. Their numerous bright red lights blinked in a rhythmic sequence, creating an odd, industrial ballet against the backdrop of the dark fjord.
14th March, 2025
It was time for Eva and me to go our separate ways. A taxi booked to the train station, was rerouted to the airport as neither of us was really looking forward to negotiating people and trains with all our luggage.
Once checked in and free of our largest cases, we sat for a while and then said our goodbyes. We headed to our different gates, separate in body, however still very much together in mind as we looked forward to getting back home and going through our photos from a truly memorable trip.
5. Drone Photography
I wanted a dedicated section for my drone photography because the images are easily lost in the numerous photos taken with my camera and iPhone. I also wanted to assess the impact of aerial images and how I might organise myself for future trips.
I have all the necessary licences to fly my drones and I had familiarised myself with local regulations and prohibited flying zones before I left for Lofoten. I'd also perfected the technique of hand taking off and landing to negate the need to locate flat, dry surfaces.
The day of our arrival on Lofoten, it was wet and windy. The following morning however, it was clear and without too much wind. I sent my drone off to have a look at our accommodation and surrounds from the sea perspective.
4th March, 2025: The following morning and the arrival of snow saw me out early to capture the changed vista, including the sunrise. I can tell from similar images how I was getting more confident about flying my drone higher and further away over the water .
That same day, we were at Ballstad and I flew my drone to get a better feel for the port area and surrounds.
5th March, 2025. A trip to Henningsvaer and en route we at a layby to take photos of an impressive bridge across the water. I decided to launch my drone from the road side, confident in my ability to launch and land by hand!
Buoyed by my success, I flew again at another point beside a much larger bridge and again by the side of the road to try to capture waves pounding against rocks. One of the drone images I'd hoped to capture was a football pitch at Henningsvaer. The backdrop to the pitch is stunning and flying the drone high would've created a memorable panorama. It wasn't to be though. The wind was strong and there were too many people milling around for me to be able to get the 50m away from them that is required by my drone weight. I did fly up to about 30 feet before more people intruded.
The visit to Gimsøy island was more fruitful! Eva had asked if I could take a close up of a small lighthouse, inaccessible by land. The light was beginning to fade, however I launched my drone and flew across the bay. Then I became bolder and managed the close up that Eva had wanted. Aparently the white item next to the lighthouse is the skeleton of a whale. Making our way off the island we spotted a beautiful reflection. I tried to photograph it with my camera, however needed more height. I flew my drone just as a snow shower came in. I quickly took a photo and brought in my drone. The water had been disturbed however and the reflections had disappeared.
6th March, 2025
As we intended leaving a little later, I flew my drone from our accommodation wanting to capture the colours and shaps of the bay. On the road and heading south I flew over Flaxstad Church and captured the coastal road around the mountains. I'd fogotten that I had flown my drone to photo the two iconic bridges which provide the route to Fredvang; it had been one of those images I'd wanted to capture too!
7th March, 2025
I had tried flying my drone at night, however several functions don't work when there's little light. I was not only happy that I gave it a go, I was also really pleased to see that editing brought out features that the drone had captured. No such problem the following morning as daylight came. There was a beautiful sunrise and soon the colours in the bay appeared. We stopped at Mortsund to look for possible Aurora spots and I flew the drone whilst there.
8th March, 2025
The day was cloudy and miserable and there was to be no drone flying!
9th March, 2025
An overnight fall of snow had me out early flying my drone. I made the most of my time in the air before we headed out to different areas.
Not being able to fly my drone the previous day was more than made up for with the amount of time I was able to fly my drone in such stunning landscapes.
10th March, 2025
The forecast wasn't good for later in the day. I wanted to get the furthest I could out to sea with my drone in order to look back and take another photo of our accommodation. I just loved the colours highlighted by the shadow of the mountain in front of where we were staying. I also saw a bank of cloud laden with snow headed towards us and quickly took a photo before bringing my drone back in.
Taking a back route to our destination, I was able to fly my drone over some frozen waterways. I'd like to do more of this type of drone photography in the future.
Final Thoughts
Our trip had been everything and more that we'd hoped for. The German saying "when angels travel the sun shines" seemed pertinent although describing ourselves as angels might be a step too far!
We'd spent 10 days and made use of every minute of the day and it still isn't enough. Lofoten has a piece of my heart and I will gladly revisit if an opportunity arises. It has to be a winter visit though, I can't image this beautiful place without its wonderful coat of snow.
Comments