In the first week of November, a small remote island on the west coast of Scotland prepares for winter lockdown. Tourists flee and sea mist covers the land in shadows. All that’s left is deserted roads curling through rough landscapes dotted with thousands of sheep. Not the best season to visit Scotland, or so you might think. But on an island where history has been dominated by myths and legends, you might be rewarded if you put your trust in the hands of the Gods.
For two weeks, I drove around the Isle of Skye in a campervan with my good friend and journalist, Hans Roozekrans. We drove, hiked, and camped all day, every day, experiencing all the magic the small island had to offer.
I’d heard many things about Scottish weather, but shiny, calm, and sunny weren’t any of them, especially about the fall season. We got lucky. We opened the door of the campervan each morning and found ourselves deserted under a perfect, blue Scottish sky, looking out at spectacular cliffs of lush green valleys. Each morning was a gift. The landmarks on our map of Skye had names like “The Fairy Pools,” “The Fairy Bridge,” and “The Old Man of Storr.” It was easy to imagine that, on this little island, fairy tales could be real.
I’m always on the hunt for the most rugged and remote landscapes to travel and photograph. One of the things I love about photography is that it allows me to get outside so often. My two weeks in Skye were filled with long hikes, sleeping under the stars, and walking for days without seeing another soul.
I love the independence that photography gives me. I love that there’s no right or wrong way. I love being able to walk outside and photograph whatever I want. For me, travel photography is about wandering and observing. There are just as many unique ways to look at things as there are unique things to look at.