Our recent trip back to England was a whistle-stop tour. We had so much we wanted and needed to cram into one week, and I shot lots of film and wrote pages and pages.
One of the places we stopped was the beautiful North Norfolk coast, where we used to live. I have a tendency to bang on somewhat about how much I miss living by the sea. We stayed in a caravan right on the cliff top, uninterrupted views and the only noise was the crashing sea and the seagulls.
You know that thing where you are being cocky and asking for trouble? On the way down to the beach one of them is complaining that the lens won’t open on their little point and shoot; another is struggling to get their custom white balance right and another is swearing because their memory card is full and they have to now delete some images. Haha, you lot, says I. You should all be shooting film like me then you wouldn’t have these problems. Then I tripped over a rock in the sand, dropped my camera and the back fell open, letting in light, sand and salt water and ruining several photographs completely. On the plus side, I salvaged these 5.
(Olympus XA1/Ferrania Solaris 400)