Money tree...

For years people have been hammering coins into a fallen tree near Aira Force in Cumbria. God knows why...

Blencowe Hall...

Just finishing an article about Blencowe Hall, two fortified pele towers linked by a medieval hall, which was "one of the castles that Cromwell knocked about a bit". When the building was renovated, the huge gash in the south tower was kept as a reminder of the hall's turbulent past. The result, in my inexpert opinion: stunning!

Hen harrier at Eycott Hill...

Eycott Hill, soon to be a nature reserve run by the Cumbria Wildlife Trust, is difficult to photograph, but at least the light was good... and Blencathra, in the distance, was topped with cloud.

I saw a silvery-grey bird, with black wing-tips, flying low over the pasture. I had my monocular in my pocket, thankfully, so could tell it was a male hen harrier. It was spectacular! For a few seconds, time stood still...

Castlerigg...

An interesting assortment of people visit the stones at Castlerigg. Families, couples, other bearded photographers... and those who have a particular interest in standing stores and their place in folklore. They like to believe that the stones have special powers... imagining that they crackle with neolithic energy. I've seen coins left at the base of the stones; I'm not sure why. Some people have firm convictions about stone circles, and why they were built, but I'm happy in my unknowing, just enjoying the location and the changing light. The truth may be quite prosaic...

Castlerigg stone circle...

Spent a productive hour or two at the Castlerigg stone circle, near Penrith. OK, it's no Stonehenge, but the location is stunning. The light was very changeable, and clouds clung to the top of Blencathra. I now have 200 shots to delete, whittling them down to the best 20...

Skipton Castle...

This is the courtyard of Skipton Castle in North Yorkshire. What a wonderful space for a theatrical performance 'in the round'. The yew tree was planted in 1659 by Lady Anne Clifford...

Window-painting in Haworth...

A brief visit to Haworth, on a foggy November day, hoping to take some atmospheric shots in the churchyard. They turned out to be gloomy, rather than atmospheric; then I saw this lass painting a shop window with a festive design...

Back in Yorkshire...

After a month down south, I'm back in West Yorkshire. After manicured lawns and picture postcard villages, it looks a bit scruffy, frankly. Just like me. Once I've had a portion of fish & chips - with scraps - I'll feel I'm home again.

A 14th-century carving, under the choir stalls in St Mary's Church, Nantwich, depicting the devil punishing a woman for lying...

The Beauchamp Chapel...

Too wet for outdoor photography today, so I took the advice of Simon Jenkins, in his book The Thousand Best Churches in England (one of the few books that accompany me on my travels), and investigated St Mary's Church in Warwick. The Beauchamp Chapel is amazing: medieval craftsmanship at its finest, and all to glorify one important (self-important?) family.

Life in the slow lane...

The Romahome is easy to drive, more like a car than a motorhome. But it has no four-wheel drive and no off-road capabilities. Wet grass or loose gravel can make the wheels spin, so I stick to the roads. I drive at a steady, stately pace, like minor royalty; cornering at speed is likely to deposit things on the floor. Whenever I feel I’m slowing other people down, I pull over and let the cars go by. I listen to traffic reports on the radio, and my ears prick up whenever there’s advice for “drivers of high-sided vehicles”.

I have heat, light, a two-burner cooker, with grill, and washing facilities. The bed is narrow, but long enough for my six-foot-plus frame. I sleep very well, wherever I happen to be. The occasional bad dreams are all variations on a single theme: losing my camera. Reactions to my nomadic lifestyle range from “you must be mad!” to an envious appreciation. I’ve had a couple of “what the hell have I done?” days, but, on the whole, the first few months have gone very well.

Broadway... in the Cotswolds...

Satnav lady...

A satnav was something I never thought I’d buy. I’d always relied on my innate sense of direction, which meant, of course, that I regularly got lost. The Romahome isn’t much bigger than a regular car, but it’s not as ‘nippy’, and the sightlines are poor. It’s not always easy to stop and check the map, especially in town. So I went to Halfords, took the salesman’s advice and bought a Garmain satnav. For an extra tenner, I got the version pre-loaded with maps of Europe as well as GB. You never know.

Now I’m wondering how I ever managed without it. When I need to get to a photographic location, I tap in a name or a postcode, wait two seconds for the gadget to orientate itself… then set off. The first time I used the satnav, I obeyed every instruction the satnav lady delivered. I was a bit nervous about contradicting her. On the second occasion I disobeyed her every instruction, to see what would happen (this is how most of my relationships end). I half expected her to go into a huff. But no, she just sighed - albeit inaudibly - recalculated, and offered revised instructions.

She’s pretty accurate, though not infallible. In Morecambe she issued four ‘turn left’ instructions in quick succession, which, unsurprisingly, took me in a circle, back to where I’d been two minutes earlier. That’s the effect that Morecambe has on me too.

Wherever I hang my hat...

I’m travelling around in a Romahome 25, a small motorhome which attracts appreciative glances… at least from people who aren’t stuck behind me on some narrow country road. I had months to research the best vehicle for the job of being a travelling writer and photographer. I drew up a list of the amenities I needed, and the Romahome fitted the bill. The front is a Citroen Berlingo, the back is built by Romahome. I can stand up - just - in the back, without having to extend the roof. This is fine… most of the time. I just have to remember that the vehicle is more than 8ft high, which puts multi-storey car parks out of bounds.

What I have, essentially, is an office/bedsit on wheels. With two ‘leisure’ batteries (in addition to the battery under the bonnet) and a solar panel on the roof, I have enough electricity to power my lighting, computer and DAB radio, and re-charge my phone, iPad and camera batteries. I have enough power for a couple of days, if I’m staying in one place; after that I need to either put some miles on the clock (which re-charges all three batteries), stop at a campsite with a hook-up… or hope for sunshine. There’s a dial which tells me how much power I have left, and I try not to cut it too fine.

I have wifi in the vehicle, but it’s not something I can rely on. Fortunately, I don’t need to be online all the time. The main need is for uploading photographs, sending articles to magazines and checking my emails. Before embarking on my nomadic lifestyle I didn’t have much love for MacDonalds ‘restaurants’ or Wetherspoon pubs. Now, though, they’re like branch offices; the availability of free wifi makes these places look much more attractive. On many occasions this is the easiest way to get online. The satnav lady will even locate the nearest MacDonalds.


Stamford at dusk...

Belton House...

Halloween last night, so I kipped in a small village in the Midlands, hoping to avoid being attacked by zombies. My plan worked. The light was good today, so spent a few hours at Belton House, a National Trust property near Grantham. I got some shots of the deer, with the hall behind; they retreated back into the parkland when visitors arrived in numbers…