Tag Archives: Photography

Day 5 – We See The Light in Petra

Thursday May 19 2022 – We got a lie in – yay! – well, compared to yesterday we did. Alarm call at 0530, hasty breakfast and off we went to Petra with Ali, starting at 0700. There were even fewer people today than yesterday, which meant even less chance of business for the hustlers near the visitor centre to find any marks to offer horse rides to; so their attendance was sparse, too.

Although the weather was similar today to yesterday’s (i.e sunny and eventually hot) the light was surprisingly different, as you’ll see from the myriad photos in today’s entry. Many of them are similar scenes to yesterday, but the light was different; and in Petra, the light can be remarkable. Ali was encouraging us along at a brisk pace, as he wanted us to get to a particular point before the sun got too high. As we walked along the main drag from the Treasury, the stone was positively glowing, presumably because of reflected light from the surroundings; whatever the reason, the effect was striking.

Our objective today was to get to (sigh!) the highest point of the site, the High Place of Sacrifice. The conventional way to do this is (sort of) clockwise, with a steep ascent from just before the Theatre, and a longer but less steep descent bringing you back opposite the Royal Tombs (go and look at the map from yesterday if you haven’t memorised it, and take a black mark). Instead, Ali took us the other way round in order to get the light he wanted us to see. It turns out that he is a professional photographer, which is why he took the light as a priority and why he kept suggesting shots to me yesterday. His instincts were right, and so I continued to let him school me in fruitful angles, as you’ll see as you read on.

We passed some goats.

Nothing unusual in that, you’d (rightly) say. But how the hell did they get up there?

Stay tuned for more goat action, by the way. The track led us past a series of caves – living spaces and tombs – and the colours that today’s light had brought out were marvellous (that’s Ali in the first picture).

One particular space, still in use by someone that Ali knew (actually, he knows everyone) had a particularly vibrant ceiling (he uses it to pen his goats – a sort of 5-star goat-el. Thank you. Thank you for listening to my joke.)

The tombs in the photo above are for middle-class Nabateans; looking across the valley, we could also see more tombs, also for the middle classes.

Between us and the tombs on the far side, you can see a couple of holes in the ground. These mark the area where there were tombs for lower-class Nabateans. Much of them have been covered in sediment that has built up over the centuries; generally speaking, somewhere between one and two metres of sediment has accumulated, which means that the lower or ground-level storeys of many places appear to have low ceilings. Actually, the floor has risen.

Reinforcing the “necropolis” description of Petra from Suhir, our Jerash guide, we passed a further series of living space/tombs, many with names that have nothing to do with their original occupants, but either derive from local legend, or were simply coined more recently to identify them: the “Broken Pediment” tomb;

The “Renaissance” tomb (possibly the dwelling of the High Priest);

and the “Roman Soldiers” Tomb.

The name is a complete misnomer, because not only are the three figures on the face Nabatean rather than Roman, but also it’s not a tomb. It was used as a meeting place for visiting dignitaries and religious high muck-a-mucks before adjourning to eat to the triclinium opposite (from which the above photo is framed); originally the space between the two was a colonnaded garden.

The triclinium itself is remarkably coloured

and shows the eponymous three sides. After this the religious dignitaries would form a procession, eventually to the High Place of Sacrifice but first to a small temple.

I hope the steps they had to climb were wider and better-formed than the ones there today, otherwise a dignified procession, particularly in priest’s robes and assorted paraphernalia, would be very challenging.

Forgive a plenitude of photos, here, but the temple had several features worth remarking on. For example, outside it was a cistern

which was filled by rainwater let out from a 75 cubic metre reservoir above by unplugging a hole (just above centre left) which allowed water into a collector and down a channel which led to the cistern.

Damn’ clever, these Nabateans. The pillars of the temple make a frame in one of my favourite images from today – the open space was once a garden, and at the far side is the tomb of the gardener…

from the temple they continued up to the Lion Fountain

which was itself fed from the same reservoir running water down a channel and out through the lion’s mouth, into a pool where the religious visitors could wash before making their sacrifice (the marks from a stream down the right-hand side is caused by escaping rainwater because the original channels and dams have eroded away). The lion is in Assyrian style. Ascending further gives another view of the Roman Soldiers tomb and a glimpse of the reservoir which fed these ingenious water distribution channels.

Further up, we came across evidence of where stone was quarried,

in this case for a Crusader fortress which was built little higher, but which was destroyed in an earthquake.

The steps in the photo above lead past a pair of obelisks representing the two principal Nabatean gods.

Whilst we were ascending them we heard the music of the rababa, the Arab flute (though distinctly not played by a professional musician). The player turned out to be a Bedouin lady

to whom we donated a couple of Dinars for her musical contribution to our ascent, and who it turned out had quite a substantial retail opportunity up there.

And then having ascended those steps and overall some 185 metres (really? It felt like more) we reached the High Place of Sacrifice.

at the top of the picture is the altar whence the blood would flow through a channel into a reservoir below

(the Nabateans were clearly experts in fluid mechanics). In the middle of the area is the platform on which the giver of the sacrificial animal would stand before the sacrifice was carried out by the high priest

and the blood would flow through a channel across the area to be stored so it could be sprayed around as evidence of a good, old-fashioned and satisfactory slaughter.

No self-respecting High Place of Sacrifice would pass muster without offering the dignitaries a decent view

and we could also see some more goats (see, I told you there would be more goat action)

and we wondered, as before, how the hell they got there.

Shortly after and slightly below the High Place is an excellent tea stop-cum-retail-opportunity and Ali recommended we take advantage of it. Apart from anything else, it offered some precipitous and spectacular views over the main Petra centre.

Some very good, sweet and energising mint tea was served by a young lad who was one of two people who ran the place

As well as a unique viewpoint over the main Petra site, which still showed signs of the glowing light that illuminated it earlier

we could also clearly see the Bedouin village where the government had moved people when they removed them from living on the Petra site itself.

Then it was time to start the descent to Petra, past several notable scenes.

until we got back down to Petra’s main drag. We said farewell to Ali, and thanked him for doing a splendid job of showing us some out-of-the-way places and interesting photo scenes, and headed back (once again under hot sunshine) on the long pull up towards our hotel. I took the opportunity to take a couple of final shots; for example, the light on the Façades was wonderful,

and there was still a glow to the rocks as they reflected light from the paths.

In front of the Treasury was busy and buzzy,

we were passed by a couple of mounted Police, in distinctive pointed hats

and there were by now plenty of hustlers at the top of the path down waiting for marks to come by to try to get them to do a horse ride down to the site.

We’d done about 7.5 miles by this stage and were glad to get back to the hotel. Garmin reckoned we’d ascended a total of some 500 metres as we went down into Petra, up to the High Place, back down into Petra and back to the hotel.

so we felt we’d earned the short sleep we awarded ourselves back at the hotel, along with, of course, a cup of Twining’s finest Earl Grey. After a few hours’ rest, Saeed came and picked us up to take us to a lunch consisting of a traditional Jordanian dish – Maglouba, or “upside down meal”. There’s a particular serving trick of turning the meal over from the pan onto the plate so that the rice is on top of chicken and vegetables; served with salad and yoghurt. En route, he took us to a high viewpoint over Wadi Musa and Petra.

I think you can make out some details of the site, but I’m not sure.

The fissure in the middle is the Siq, and you can make out some other details of tombs, but I can’t be certain of what I’m looking at. Perhaps we’ll revisit the spot tomorrow, when the sun is more favourable, and be able to make out more.

Lunch was in a café/restaurant called TimeOut, in Tourism Street, Wadi Musa. It looks like a rather ordinary café from outside

But behind the café front there’s a rather fine dining room

where we had a rather fine meal. Yes, I have a photo. No you can’t see it.

And that was pretty much it for the day. Tomorrow we leave Petra for one of the other tourist tick boxes in Jordan, Wadi Rum. We’ll be staying in the nearest I will allow myself to approach camping, a geodesic-shaped luxury tent. According to the website, this will let me “wake up in the wild outdoors without compromising an ounce of luxury. Expect the same amenities and facilities as you would have in a top-class hotel.” I shall whinge ceaselessly if this has over-egged my expectations.

However, the luxury doesn’t extend to any form of online access, so I’ll be going radio silent for the next couple of days. However, please keep the faith and come back over the weekend to catch up with whatever adventures have befallen us come our way in our absence from the whirl of the world-wide web.

The role of workshops in developing skills

This post was inspired by Amateur Photographer Magazine, who said, in a Facebook post, “We’re planning a feature about photography workshops and holidays. Have you ever done one, and if so who was it with, where did you go and what did you think of it? Would you do another one, once Covid is gone, and if so what’s on your wishlist?”

Using my phone, I started writing a response, then realised that there had been several workshops which had been not so much valuable as crucial in developing sufficient photo skills to sustain me in a certain amount of paid work – plus one which I was unable to attend for health reasons. So this post is my response in more detail than would have been appropriate for a Facebook stream.

The first workshop lesson: take it seriously (Nikon School)

Having dabbled in both film and digital photography, I screwed my courage to the sticking point and bought a digital SLR, a Nikon D70 (the courage being necessary to explain to the distaff side about the amount I’d spent). I realised quickly that I needed education about how to get the best out of it, and so enrolled on a specialist one-day course with Nikon School designed to bring home to the participants the sort of capabilities the D70 brought to bear. So, although I didn’t technically learn anything that wasn’t in the instruction manual, I picked up a sense of the importance of understanding the kit so that I could use it well. This principle was more important than the actual technical knowledge imparted.

Interim learning – the value of a mentor

Shortly afterwards, my work in PR enabled me to meet a professional photographer, Rob Matthews, who we employed to help us with a couple of PR projects. He was very patient in answering my persistent beginner-type questions and I also learned a huge amount simply by watching him at work and seeing the results he got. Not a formal workshop but an invaluable learning experience which shaped my professional style and, importantly, earning ability.

The second workshop: composition (Light and Land)

My principal (unpaid) photography was based around travelling and I simply made sure that I had a camera with me wherever I went. So when I spied an opportunity to visit the Lake District in a landscape photography workshop, I thought it presented a good chance to help me up my game from simple travel snaps, which is all I had really managed thus far. It was organised by Light and Land and, further, was an opportunity to meet not only Damien Demolder (who will be familiar to any regular Amateur Photographer readers, him being one-time editor and that) but also the great Charlie Waite, who is not only one of the great landscape photographers but is also a gent. I learned huge amounts about how to compose decent images rather than simply capture what’s in front of my eyes at the time.

The best one: Historic Warbirds (Nikon School)

As you can infer, I’m a Nikon user, and have attended various other Nikon workshops, such as a wildlife expedition to the British Wildlife Centre. This was enjoyable and I got some great photos out of it – and Nikon sold me a good lens on the strength of it, so winners all round. But Nikon School really came up trumps with an opportunity to photograph Spitfire and Hurricanes – Historic Warbirds – with the USP of being able to do this from the air. As well as learning the best way to photograph aeroplanes in flight, I and the other participants got the chance to capture some absolutely unique images. A memorable experience indeed.

The one that got away: Printing (Light and Land)

The trouble with Light and Land’s offerings is that they are all so tempting! I managed to resist their blandishments for a while, but then spotted a workshop with Joe Cornish, another great of landscape photography, focussing on preparing and printing images. Sadly, I had to cancel my attendance due to medical reasons, but this is an area where I recognise my own shortcomings and so is likely to be the subject of my next photo workshop.

The value of workshops

There is little substitute, when it comes to learning about something like photography, for just getting out and doing it. The value of a workshop is in shaping the practice – imparting knowledge, giving feedback and enabling the exchange of ideas. You still have to get out and do it, but with the help of workshops you can do this with greater confidence, insight and quality.

Indecision before we even start!

There is a problem with being a professional photographer. It’s a nice one to have, though:

What camera gear do I take with me on holiday?

I can choose from two pro-spec Nikon cameras (one mirrorless), a Panasonic compact travel camera, an Olympus Tough camera, suitable for underwater photography, an Osmo (video on gimbal), a camcorder and a drone. I have gimbal stabilisers for the Nikons and the Panasonic, in case I want to capture video. Oh, and there’s my phone, which has a perfectly decent camera within the limitations of these things and for which I have a gimbal stabiliser.

The holiday covers Barcelona and the Balearics. So, for Barcelona, went my thinking, I need something to capture cityscapes; for the Balearics I need something for landscapes and possible underwater work if we go snorkelling.

  • My general preference would be to use a mirrorless Nikon for high-quality images, but this would require taking two lenses – a 24-70 and 28-300 (with adapter). It would also be a bit heavy and cumbersome for lugging around, and (particularly in Barcelona, given its reputation) a bit of a security risk.
  • I could instead take a Nikon DSLR with a general purpose (18-300) lens (as I did for South America). This is also quite heavy and isn’t so good for video work.
  • For landscapes on the islands, I’d also love to take the drone (a Mavic – foldable and portable).
  • If we go snorkelling in the islands (not my favourite pastime, but a way of getting some nice pictures), I need to take the Olympus.

At one stage, given the bewildering possibilities, I even considered taking nothing but my phone and its mobile gimbal. That would, I though (or rather hoped) cover most stills and video eventualities, although not with the highest quality images, and would give me an excuse not to go snorkelling, thus saving me from having to pack flippers, tube and mask. The main disadvantage is a lack of a decent zoom.

When we booked our time in Barcelona, the original plan was to spend a leisurely few days pottering about marvelling at the modernista architecture and generally go Gaudi hunting. We have a slot booked for entering the Sagrada Familia. Much opportunity for cityscapes, really needing a Nikon, surely? Just have to be careful in crowds. But could try with just the mobile….?

Then serendipity took a hand. I contacted someone with whom I’d worked many years ago and who now lives in Barcelona, with the main idea being to get some restaurant recommendations. She told me that our stay in Barcelona coincided with their major festival, La Mercè. We didn’t realise this at time of booking and it has several implications:

  1. The place will be rammed. This makes it less sensible to be carrying posh camera gear around.
  2. There’s a rather special item in the festival: Castellers, or Human Towers, something we’d seen on TV and really want to see. This will take place in Plaça Sant Jaume, which will be packed. A video-capable camera is going to be essential.
  3. There’s a Costa Coffee on the edge of the square which has an upstairs – perhaps we could get there early enough to be able to watch from (slightly) above? But even so, we’d be distant from the action, so the mobile won’t do (no realistic zoom).
  4. The best compromise here would be the Panasonic on a gimbal.

So I think I’m coming to the conclusion that I should leave the big Nikons at home, and use the smaller cameras and gimbals to capture the various aspects of the holiday; I will almost certainly miss out on some opportunities (e.g. wildlife shots), but I simply can’t carry gear to cover all eventualities. Here’s my probable packing list:

  • Panasonic TZ-100 (travel compact with 1″ sensor and decent zoom)
  • Zhiyun Crane M2 (gimbal for the Panasonic – not a 100% solution, but workable)
  • Olympus TG-5 Tough for underwater photography
  • DJI Mavic Pro drone, with Samsung Galaxy Note 4 phone for control
  • DJI Osmo Mobile 3 gimbal for my phone
  • Two 20,000 mA power banks
  • Spare batteries for all the above plus cables, adapters and card readers.
  • And, of course, the tablet.

Now to go and see if I can fit all that into my backpack!

Well, waddayou know!

There’s even room for a DSLR (if I pack cables and card readers in my hold luggage).

However, with the DSLR I would need to include a laptop as well (for photo editing), which takes the weight of the thing up to 25lb – about 11.5kg in new money.

I might have to think again. Again!