Tag Archives: travel

Airline Cabin Baggage: A Photographer’s Minefield

Jul

2016

by Dave | 6 Comments

As a photographer every international destination always brings its own unique logistical challenges, but one constant amongst them all is the dread of being forced to check my cabin baggage full of valuable and delicate camera gear into the hold.

Like many photographers I carry my camera gear in my cabin baggage or, more accurately, my cabin luggage is a camera bag with a minority of essentials, such as passport, ear plugs, eye mask and overnight toiletries. It represents not only a sizeable financial investment but also is the very reason I travel. It would not matter whether it was lost, damaged or stolen; all would have a disastrous impact on my trip. So it stays with me, come what may. But as any airline traveller will tell you, assuring that your cabin baggage does not get checked into the hold is a bit of a black art. But why?

Double Standards

For as long as I can remember the cabin baggage size allowance was set at 56 x 45 x 25cm. This size was suggested by IATA, the International Air Transport Association – an association comprising the majority of the world’s commercial airlines. This was not a requirement; it was a recommendation and an effort to clarify for all parties what was permissible cabin baggage. Airlines were ultimately free to choose a maximum size allowance and whilst some did, many simply adopted the IATA recommendation. An industry for cabin baggage grew up around this recommendation including camera bags and many camera bag manufacturers help by clearly stating whether the bag meets the IATA recommendation, such as the example from Lowepro’s site below.

Many manufacturers provide helpful guidance on cabin compatibility but beware, they may not be using the same standard size as your airline.

The rapid rise of the “no frills” airlines – the ones that charge you for every extra, such as hold luggage – led to a rise in passengers trying to cram everything in their cabin allowance. The result was increased abuse of the cabin baggage allowance, overcrowding of the storage bins, passengers increasingly being told to check their baggage into the hold, arguments, fights and most importantly of all to the airline, delayed flights. Airlines increasingly began to impose their own, more restrictive cabin allowance resulting in cabin-compatible luggage suddenly not being as compatible as it once was.

In order to bring some order to this chaos in 2015 IATA introduced an initiative (http://www.iata.org/pressroom/pr/Pages/2015-06-09-02.aspx) which initially found acceptance with airline companies to standardise a new cabin baggage size that would, at least in theory, guarantee that cabin baggage would not become hold baggage. The size, 55 x 35 x 20cm was important for two reasons. First, it meant that on aircraft with 120 seats or more every passenger could fit their cabin baggage in the overhead bins. Second, it was smaller than most airlines’ maximum cabin baggage allowance and so was pretty easy for airlines to implement. Unfortunately, the rollout of the initiative was suspended a few months later after concerns from North American airlines about it being too restrictive. Quite how they came to that conclusion is a mystery as I’ve read the initiative and it is very clear that it in no way defines a recommended maximum size – it defines a size at which a passenger could expect that, in an overcrowded aircraft their bag would not be checked into the hold, whereas a larger one might. In any event, the initiative was suspended but not before some airlines adopted it as a new maximum; again not really understanding the point that IATA was trying to address.

If this were not already complex enough the US Federal Aviation Authority (FAA) have their own recommendation – 55.8cm x 36.8cm x 22.9cm and US manufacturers of cabin compliant luggage are likely to adhere to this standard before IATA.

So, why is this relevant to me now? Well at least that has a simple answer: An upcoming trip sees me make part of the journey on regional ATR42 twin propeller aircraft that is going to be a lot more restrictive on cabin baggage than the international Qatar flight on the first leg of my journey. In the past I have always had a bit of stress regarding the size of my current camera backpack, but the regional flight is a clear case of having it checked into the hold. Something had to be done.

Old, Not Obsolete

Like many photographers I’ve had my fair share of camera bags. For years I was a Lowepro user and I’ve worked my way through a number of their backpacks as my kit and travel patterns changed. But more than once I have returned from a week-long trip with aching shoulders after hefting my gear around all day, every day. It seems a common problem – for me at least – with Lowepro backpacks and so it was time to change brands.

Then I discovered the Think Tank Airport Accelerator v2.0 (https://www.thinktankphoto.com/) and fell in love. Capacious to the point of decadence but still within the FAA and IATA (original) recommendations at 35.6 × 52.1 × 22cm. I’ve used it for a couple of years now and find it to be extremely comfortable when hiking for long periods, even with 12kg of camera gear. The backpack straps are very well padded, the zips rugged and lockable and Think Tank’s customer service is unfailingly good.

But it isn’t the perfect bag. It almost is, and maybe it once was, but as I travel to ever more remote places and airlines continue to clamp down on passengers abusing cabin baggage limits I am finding it more difficult to have that guarantee – that peace-of-mind – that I won’t be asked to check my camera gear into the hold. For although it fits within FAA and the original IATA guidelines it (1) only does so when empty and (2) they’re only guidelines, which airlines are increasingly ignoring.

The Think Tank Airport Accelerator may have a depth of the FAA recommended 22.9cm but that is without the anything in the front pockets. Adding another 2-3cm for a laptop makes this bag much less cabin-friendly.

So began a search for a travel backpack and as I was playing ‘fantasy camera bag’ I might as well assemble my dream team of features!

It had to meet IATA’s 2015 size recommendation of 55 x 35 x 20cm as this would meet pretty much any airline’s cabin baggage allowance.
It had to accommodate two DSLRs each with a lens attached, specifically a D810 with 24-70 f/2.8 and a D750 with 70-200 f/4. My photography is increasingly in hostile environments – saltwater, deserts, volcanoes and snow – and changing lenses is to be avoided wherever possible. So I need to be able to swap between wide and zoom without exposing the camera sensor to contaminants.
It had to be a backpack. Most of the things I photograph require a bit of a trek to get to and I want the gear strapped to my back in comfort, leaving both hands free to clamber up rocky paths and over uneven ground.
It had to allow easy and fast access to all of my gear. Landscapes tend not to move that fast but in hostile environments, conditions do. The ability to pack up quickly is an important as unpacking.

Think Tank were my first choice but whilst they have a smaller camera backpack that satisfies requirement (1), it definitely wasn’t not going to accommodate requirement (2). I looked at other brands – Lowepro, Gura Gear, F-stop, Tenba, Manfrotto etc. – but nothing that met my needs. Things were not looking good.

Then during one of my Google searches I found the Think Tank Airport Antidote v2.0. Not listed on their web site it appears that this is an older model in their Airport series but one that showed promise. With nothing else presenting a viable option I took a gamble on a second-hand one.

The difference between the Think Tank Airport Accelerator and Airport Antidote v2.0 is immediate and noticeable.

The size difference is obvious. At 43 x 30 x 18 cm its external dimensions are smaller than even the most punitive airline restrictions and it even fits inside the Airport Accelerator. So, it meets requirements (1), (3) and (4) but what about the all-important requirement (2)?

“Old, not obsolete.” Despite its diminutive size the Think Tank Airport Antidote v2.0 manages to fit a in impressive amount of gear without comprising ease of access.

Yes, although tight I can get two DSLRs with lenses attached in the bag, along with a full complement of filters, two additional lenses, batteries and cleaning gear. Had I needed a longer zoom lens then this have been an issue but (my) photography rarely needs much above 200mm.

A Crash Diet

Of course, size is only one issue when to comes to cabin baggage; the weight allowance is the other and, as any photographer will attest, your camera gear always weighs more than the allowance. I’m planning on handling this in a couple of ways.

First, simple psychology. People assume that small bags are lighter than big bags so the mere fact that the Airport Antidote v2.0 is quite compact gives it a perception of lightness, especially if it looks less like a camera backpack and more like a day backpack. Coupled with the time-honoured technique of casually carrying it on only one shoulder and it shouldn’t invite a check-in or gate assistant to look more closely.

There is always a chance that it might get weighed and at that point you’re pretty much stuck. One tactic is to keep an eye on the check-in queue ahead of you and, if you see cabin baggage being weight-checked it may be time to discretely get out of the queue and move to plan B. There are plenty of photographer gilets that provide innumerable pockets but they are almost universally expensive. A fisherman’s gilet will do exactly the same thing (and be much cheaper) or camera belt can be used to carry enough extra gear to get the cabin bag down to the right weight – at least until you’re sure it won’t be checked into the hold (i.e., when you’re on board the plane). Of course being discrete is the key here and so wearing it under a fleece or – in hot climates – a somewhat oversized shirt can go a long way to not bring attention to your sudden gain in weight.

Including laptop, my Airport Antidote is 11.5kg against Qatar’s 7kg allowance so I potentially need to shift 4.5kg to my person. Tough, but just about possible. Yes, it is a pain to have to go through this, but there are not really many options.

The other thing is to keep the weight of the hold luggage down below the maximum allowed. I’ve been stopped at check-in in the past, but as the hold luggage was under the 23kg maximum the additional weight of the cabin baggage was tolerated.

So, here are some guidelines for maximising your chances of getting your beloved camera gear in the cabin with you:

Aim for a size of 55 x 35 x 20cm or less.
Aim for a weight of 7kg and, if you can’t, have a plan B for how to deal with the excess weight as you pass through check-in.
Do not blindly believe the manufacturers “cabin friendly” label on their web site. It may be an old or different definition to the one your airline uses.

In the end there will never really be a guarantee that a cabin bag won’t be checked, but keeping it as small and light as possible certainly helps. For photographer’s the challenge is finding that balance between size, weight and usability. Hopefully this article shows that it is possible to get a significant amount of camera gear into a lowest common denominator size allowance of 55 x 35 x 20cm; that such camera bags do exist and that there are creative options for making cabin baggage temporarily lighter than they actually are.

Good luck!

Posted in Travel Also tagged gear, trip planning |

The Iceland Trip’s “Worst Case Scenario”

Aug

2015

by Dave | 0 Comments

With the trip to Iceland being tomorrow and packing essentially complete I’m now at the point where I’m actually beginning to get excited. In fact there are only a few items left to deal with, including buying a few of those “meals in a bag” for the middle of the trip when I’m up in the Icelandic highlands and nowhere near a supermarket. That’s the double-edged nature of Iceland: It’s a truly breath-taking country but it favours the prepared.

Now, I do consider myself a reasonably prepared traveller, including the steps I take to stay out of trouble. But a recent post by a regular contributor over on the Trip Advisor Iceland forum did stop me in my tracks. In it she suggested that the profile for those travellers to Iceland that end up never leaving (alive) is male, a solo traveller, hiking and often with some experience. I fit 100% into that profile and whatever the source of this statistic I found myself double-checking my preparations for a “worst-case scenario”.

Risk analysts with tell you that there are three ways to deal with risk: Accept it and carry on (assume the risk), take steps to reduce the risk (mitigate the risk) or get someone else to handle the risk (transfer the risk). Depending upon the situation each option can be a valid approach, but in the case of my time in Iceland’s highland interior as the predictably unpredictable weather continues to worsen, option one would be plain, flat-out, stupid and option three (in this case meaning going on an organised trip) would be too expensive – if possible at all – and so inflexible as to render the reason for being there not worthwhile. So it was time to take the middle ground.

It is worth pointing out that there are usually three potential sources of danger in a given environment: From other humans, from animals and from nature itself. In Iceland you can disregard the first two completely. If anything is going to cause you problems, it will be the weather.

Staying on the Grid

The first thing to mention is telecommunication. Iceland has excellent mobile phone coverage from a number of operators. For example, take a look at Vodafone Iceland’s GSM coverage:

Everybody love 4G but despite being “so last century” GSM is your new best friend in Iceland.

Everybody loves 4G but despite being “so last century” GSM is your new best friend in Iceland.

So, should the worst happen I’m more than likely going to have access to the outside world, but who am I going to call?

Perhaps the obvious would be friends or family back home. If I had no other alternative then, well, I have no other alternative but I’m not going to be calling for a chat – I’m going to be having an emergency. If you’ve ever tried it trying to organise a rescue for someone from another country it is very difficult and as time is the enemy here, I really I don’t want to be in that position. So I’m making sure that I have the phone numbers for my accommodation in Iceland and confirming my arrival with each of them on the morning of arrival.

An example of why making sure that the accommodation knows you’re definitely arriving is useful happened to me back in 2010. We were taking a 4WD from the village of San Pedro de Atacama in northern Chile to the town of Uyuni in southern Bolivia. It’s a route taking three days and involves travelling through the northern Andes at an altitude of 4,500 metres. It’s a barren, unending wilderness where the temperature drops to -15°C or below once the sun goes down.

It is official – the fuel pump is dead. At 4,500 metres altitude that’s not what you want to hear…

Due to contaminated fuel the fuel pump died stranding us on the second day. Despite having been told otherwise there was no radio to call for help – and mobile phones were definitely out – and it was only because we were on a route that other 4WD vehicles used that we were able to ask a passing driver to let people know we needed help once he arrived back in civilisation. Which he didn’t do.

Luckily the accommodation we were staying in that evening were expecting us and when we didn’t show up they contacted the company who had organised our arrival and help was sent overnight to look for us. It was an uncomfortable evening – and we missed out on seeing some spectacular sights due to the delay – but we were rescued because of the accommodation raising the alarm.

In Iceland you have other tools at your disposal. The completely free 112 app from safetravel.is and available for iOS, Android and Windows mobile devices allows you to keep in contact by letting the emergency services know your location. It’s simple to use and works by sending a SMS text message so doesn’t need 3G or 4G to operate, hence why I showed the GSM coverage map above – it’s all the app needs to work.

Free, easy to use and could possibly save your life. What’s not to like?

How you use it is up to you this but I just set my watch to remind me every 30 minutes to check-in. That way if the worst were to happen then the emergency services know my approximate location.

So, letting people know is very, very important and Iceland makes it so easy to do that there is no excuse not to do so. It is a zero-cost option for having someone looking out for me. I’d be stupid not to use it.

Of course, should I find myself needing assistance I’m likely going to have to wait until help arrives. For my trip I’ve considered three scenarios when travelling by myself: (1) The 4WD breaks down (2) I’m out hiking and the weather unexpectedly turns for the worse and I end up in a biting cold storm with very low visibility or (3) I sprain an ankle. Each of these conditions is quite possible and can be life-threatening if not prepared.

The “Car Breaks Down” Scenario

The ‘car breaks down’ scenario is a relatively easy one to deal with: Phone the car hire company. However, it may be that they cannot rescue me quickly and so I have to spend the night in the car. That’s where my trusty Alpkit SkyeHigh 600 sleeping back comes in. Rated down to -5°C it means that an evening stuck inside the car out of the wind and rain inside will also be a warm one and a break-down becomes an annoyance rather than dangerous.

The “Bad Weather” Scenario

Due to its geography and location the weather in Iceland can change exceptionally quickly, especially in the highlands, and so the best course of action is to assume the worst. For me this entails being out hiking in the highlands of Kerlingarfjoll and a sudden snow or rain storm comes in and reduces visibility to near zero.

Cold! The red rectangle shows the highland area that I’ll be hiking in.

The first common-sense thing to do is check the weather forecast. It’s not accuracy that I’m after but rather a general idea and as can be seen in the above image from vedur.is – Iceland’s meteorological office – Kerlingarfjoll is going to be reaching sub-zero temperatures and so I need to ensure that I can keep warm and dry when out-and-about.

The easiest way to dress for the occasion is to use the layering principle of clothing (if you’ve not come across this then Google ‘layering principle clothing’). This is a tried-and-tested method of ensuring that your clothing suits your environment and in the highlands the outer waterproof and windproof layer is as important as the warmth-providing base and mid layers. Easy things to forget are gloves and some kind of hat.

I am pretty confident in my clothing and I’m happy that it will cope with the extremes of Iceland’s weather that I’ll be facing – it better as 66 North is an Icelandic outdoor brand – but I’m definitely following the advice of many experts who recommend avoiding jeans and cotton as, when wet, they don’t dry quickly and in a cold environment they can accelerate the cooling of your body and speed up the onset of hypothermia.

So, should the weather turn nasty, it won’t present an immediate danger and I’ll be warm and dry enough to get back to camp. Assuming I can find camp!

GPS used to be the tool of the seasoned outdoor adventurer but smart phones have put this powerful navigational tool into the hands of just about everybody. GPS apps are available for all brands of smart phone and, given that the software is cheap – and you can have a lot of fun later by downloading the data to your PC and showing your friends and family exactly where you hiked on Google Maps – it makes sense to invest in the app.

The display may look a little unfriendly but there are also options to download Google Maps data and use if when away from 3G/4G mobile coverage. You can then watch your route unfold as you walk.

I use an old iPhone 4S with no SIM card and running a dedicated GPS app – in this case GPS Kit. Other than the obvious ability to pinpoint my location it also has a tracking option that will allow me to backtrack without having to rely on visible clues such as path markers should I need to. The phone is in a rugged, waterproof case (by Lifeproof) that I picked up second-hand on eBay so there is no worry about using it in rain or snow. I’ve actually tested the waterproof nature having been diving with it to a depth of 12 metres so it doesn’t matter how bad the rain gets, it won’t be worse than that! I’ve also got a portable USB battery pack that is small enough to be easy to carry but can charge the iPhone twice over.

The “Injured” Scenario

The most likely form of injury when out hiking is a sprained ankle, especially when walking over uneven ground. Anyone who has had a sprained ankle will tell you how painful it can be, but when out-and-about by yourself it can be deadly. Back in 2008, when I was preparing to walk the wild section of the Great Wall of China, I relied a lot on the local knowledge of a photographer based out there and his advice as simple: Do not walk it alone. People have died after an injury and not being found for a couple of weeks. The good news is that in Iceland’s highlands you wouldn’t have to suffer that long – a night would probably be enough to finish you off.

There’s a reason that the “Wild Wall of China” is closed to hikers. This was a complete section until someone walked on it…

The single best piece of advice I have been given for hiking is to wear properly fitted walking boots that support your ankle. This does not necessarily mean the most expensive walking boots you can find – my current boots were significantly cheaper than all the others I was considering but they hold my feet securely. Looking where you are going and not rushing is good advice too. As my clothing is going to keep me warm and dry, I have no need to rush and anyway, having 10kg of camera gear to carry always slows you down.

No, should the weather turn nasty and visibility fail, the only thing that will likely kill me is panic.

But should it happen there are a number of tips for dealing with a sprained ankle and whilst I have a plan the simple fact of the matter is that the injury scenario is really one of those where my best hope of survival is the steps I will have already taken that day and outlined above. In the case of my stay at Kerlingarfjoll in the highlands my plan is simple:

Each morning tell hotel the route I’m taking, when I expect to be back and that I will check in with reception on my return.
I’ll also double-check the weather that day – local knowledge is always good.
Use the 112 app.
Use the GPS app to plot my route.
Don’t rush and watch where I’m going.

Of course, I have my Icelandic “worst-case scenario” kit-bag (which is really just my usual travel kit with a dramatic name) which contains a few, cheap, lightweight items – along with a couple of larger items I use in photography.

Strong painkillers
Sprain bandage
Spare bootlaces (handy for so many things, including boots!)
Emergency stitches (also called suture strips)
Liquid plaster (a paint-on anti-sceptic plaster)
Plasters
Compede (a UK brand of blister plaster)
Scissors
Tweezers
Survival blanket
Gaffer tape (carried due to its use for photography, but handy for splints)
GPS
USB power brick
LED Torch (again, used for light painting in photography but has a 20 hour charge)
Swiss Army Penknife (well, it’s not proper hiking without one!)

Despite seeming a large and costly list, the medical bits all fit into sunglasses case so really easy to carry around in a pocket or backpack.

At the end of the day you can never plan for every eventuality. What you can do is identify the potential dangers and plan as best you can around them. That’s usually the difference between trips that have “moments” that to tell your friends about for years afterwards and those trips that are your last.

Posted in Travel, Trip Planning, Uncategorized Also tagged Europe, Iceland, trip planning |

What’s the Rush?

Jul

2015

by Dave | 1 Comment

As a result of not spending so much time diving on the forthcoming trip to Iceland (see last post for the “why”) I now have an extra day or two spare. But whilst having some slack time in the schedule is always a good thing, I’ve already planned “quiet” days and so don’t really need any more. For some destinations it might be a struggle to fill these extra days, but not so with Iceland – it has the opposite problem: What to leave out.

I’ve been driving to a customer site the past couple of days and so had plenty of time to mull the various options over in my mind and I have decided to take my usual “quality over quantity” approach – after all Iceland is notorious for its unpredictable weather and all the images I have planned have specific moods that would easily ruined by the wrong weather. But whilst this approach makes sense to me, others do not seem to share my opinion. I spend a fair bit of time over on the Trip Advisor Iceland forum and not a day goes by without someone asking something along the lines of “Here’s my seven-day itinerary to see the whole of Iceland – what do you think?” I do understand that people have limited time for travel, but seriously, what kind of experience are you going to have rushing around trying to cram everything in? Surely it would be much better to pick a few highlights and explore them a bit more?

A classic example of this is Seljalandsfoss, one of the most popular tourist destinations in Iceland.

Seljalandsfoss is extremely popular due to its close proximity to Reykjavik and the fact that you can walk behind it. Oh, and it’s a waterfall – everybody loves a waterfall… [Click to enlarge!]

Seljalandsfoss sees tourists arrive by the coachload – thousands of them every day during the summer months – and it is easy to understand why. It is an easy day trip from Reykjavik, it is impressively big and easy to approach – you can even walk behind it along a path. The chances are good that you’ll even get to see a rainbow due to the water vapour in the air. So, if you’re looking to see Iceland’s top attractions, you’ll end up here. On my last trip I visited Seljalandsfoss a few times hoping to get an image I was happy with and spent quite a bit of time watching the tourists arrive and depart like waves breaking on the shore. And virtually all of them followed the same pattern: arrive, follow the path to the waterfall, take some pictures, then either return to the car or coach or continue along the path and walk behind the falls and then return to the car or coach. And if you’re on a tight time schedule that’s your total experience of Seljalandsfoss – you’re already off to ‘bag’ the next tourist hotspot. What almost none of them did was take time to look around but had they done so they would have had a bit of a surprise as there are actually two waterfalls. A short walk past Seljalandsfoss is Glufrafoss. Unlike its more popular brother Glufrafoss is hidden from view – in fact you have to walk through a crevice in the cliff face in the above image.

Glufrafoss is only a short walk from Seljalandsfoss but for the number of tourists it sees, it could be a million miles away… [Click to enlarge!]

As a picturesque setting there may be better waterfalls, but as a private table for two having a picnic it will be an experience few others will have had. [Click to enlarge!]

But when you do you have the falls all to yourself as you stand in a 6 metre wide opening with the rock face towering above you on all sides. It’s loud and you can feel the refreshing effects of the ionised air and you’ll probably want to stay a while – luckily there is a handy rock to sit upon. The brave could even stop for a picnic – just bring your waterproofs as it does get wet!

The other advantage of the “quality over quantity” approach is that you get to have different experiences of the same place. Skogafoss, another extremely popular tourist stop – and usually on the same tour as Seljalandsfoss – is a great example of this. Here’s what Skogafoss looks like to most tourists:

Skogafoss, a truly magnificent sight by any standards, is usually hidden by a mass of tourists. [Click to enlarge!]

And here’s what looks like to those who take more time:

With plenty of slack in the schedule you can afford to wait until you are, quite literally, alone with nature. [Click to enlarge!]

I know which experience I prefer.

So, that is a very long-winded way of saying that, now that I have more time to explore the Thingvellir region of Iceland, I’m not adding any additional sights to visit and instead am going to concentrate on those already on the itinerary: The geyser Stokkur, Gulfoss and the enigmatic Bruarfoss. I may revisit Skogafoss as, although it is 100km out of my way, I still feel a photograph is waiting for me there.

Posted in Travel Also tagged Europe, Iceland, trip planning |

Iceland 2015: The Itinerary

May

2015

by Dave | 0 Comments

In the last post I mentioned that I’m returning to Iceland as the ‘reward’ for learning to dive. Of course there’s no point in travelling to what is a photographic dream of a country and not spending a bit of time exploring, especially as I have seen so little of it, and so the past few weeks have seen me spending hours hunched over maps and making good use of Google and the Trip Advisor Iceland forum. And finally I have what I believe to be a workable outline for the 14 day trip.

The trip in 2014 concentrated on a section of the southern coast between the Reykjanes peninsula and Jokulsarlon. Despite being such a small section of the country there is an incredible amount to see – a testament to how much Iceland has to offer – and I left feeling that I had spent my time well and not regretting the decision to limit myself.

Much like the trip in 2014, for this trip I’ve picked just three bases to work from in the centre and west of the country: Thingvellir National Park, Kerlingarfjoll and Grundarfjordur.

As good as Google Maps is, I recommend that you invest in the Ferdakort 1:250,000 touring map for the area that you are visiting. They’re clear, detailed and full of highly useful information such as locations of petrol stations, camping sites, accommodation and, for those venturing onto the highland roads, where you will have to drive through rivers. For my 2015 trip I only need to take Map 2, covering the south west. They are perfect for driving but if you’re considering hiking, you may want to invest in some higher scale maps, such as the Serkort 1:50,000 maps.

A good map can make all the difference when on a self-drive or hiking trip.

Thingvellir

Arriving on the evening of day 1, the first base is just south of Thingvellir National Park. Thingvellir is a popular tourist stop for its historical and geological significance although for me it is the latter that draws me there. Whilst the immense North American and Eurasian tectonic plates are separating along their entire length at a rate of approx. 2cm per year, only in Iceland can you see the result of this on land. In dramatic terms, Iceland is literally being torn, very slowly, in half although it would be more accurate to say that, due to the resulting magma rising up to fill the void, Iceland is very slowly getting bigger. Whilst most visitors view the geologic transformation from above, it is here that you find Silfra, a lake formed by glacial runoff filtered through volcanic rock. The resulting waters are crystal clear and said to offer some of the best diving visibility on the planet. It is also jolly cold.

Being under no illusions as to my lack of underwater skill I have allowed for two days diving, each day consisting of a morning and afternoon dive. I’ve also left a spare day just in case I need it. I’ve checked and they dive even if there is only a single participant although I hope I’m not the only one as a lot of the shots I have in my head require more people.

The remaining day – or two if a third day of diving is not needed – is spent visiting Gulfoss and Geysir and the national park itself. I’m not planning on spending too much time at these two sites as they are very touristy and anyway, you don’t go to visit Geysir but rather its little brother Strokkur – Geysir rarely erupts these days but Strokkur repeats approximately every six minutes.

The second half of day 5 has been reserved for one of the sights worth visiting although it has turned into something akin to my own Moby Dick: Bruarfoss, a picturesque waterfall with wonderfully vivid blue waters. However, the more I read about this waterfall the more I become confused as to whether it is easily accessible or not. After three evenings of reading trip reviews, blogs and going over Google Maps inch-by-inch I’ve ended up with a definite “maybe”.

The issue isn’t its location – it is on the map and I have GPS co-ordinates – the issue is how to get there. From what I have been able to piece together it is behind a summer home area with three access roads. Two of these have already had barrier access erected and the third is an unknown. The next issue that reports from those who have been there recently suggest that you then have to pass through a hole in a fence which may, or may not, still be there when I arrive. However I have a plan B that entails parking along route 35 at a safe place and hiking for about 90 minutes along the Bruar river. I’d prefer to get the car as close as possible as I’m after dusk shots and so the thought of hiking back along the river in pitch black isn’t enticing. Last time I was in a similar situation was on the Falkland Islands and the only person at Cape Pembroke. There were only three kilometres between me and any form of civilisation but it was all marshland and I discovered the hard way that hiking on boggy ground in the dark not only wasn’t fun, it bordered on dangerous. I want to avoid the same in Iceland if I can…

As pretty as Cape Pembroke was at sunset, hiking back wasn’t a fun experience. [Click to enlarge!]

But, the main reason to be here is really the diving.

The Highlands and Kerlingarfjoll

On day six I head out from Thingvellir and head north into the highlands. I’ve left a whole day travel time to get to the hot spring at Hveravellir, in part because I know that I’ll be stopping every so often to marvel at some new landscape, but also because most of the journey is on route F35, a notorious, pothole-filled highland road. Accommodation is (hopefully) at the hot-springs although they haven’t confirmed yet. Well, they had confirmed but it went into my SPAM folder and so I only found it a week later. So I have confirmed their confirmation, but I may be too late. But if there are problems I am not really too worried as it is only for a single night and so if the worst happens I can simply sleep in the 4WD. In some ways I’m hoping they don’t confirm as it adds to the adventure. Ah, well its time to live up to my words: They don’t have a room anymore for that evening so it looks like sleeping in the 4WD is the plan! I’m pretty sure that the back seats fold down flat and I will have a sleeping mat and sleeping bag. The Alpkit sleeping bag is a serious bit of kit which I really want to try ‘in-the-field’, and throw in a couple of beers, pasta cooked the night before and I’ll not only be OK, I’ll have a ball!

Much of the day will be spent on the highland road F35 – not something you would want to attempt without a 4WD. [Click to enlarge!]

On day seventh I have a dawn shoot planned at one of the hot springs after which I travel back down the F35 from Hveravellir about 35km to Kerlingarfjoll. This leg of the journey takes me past Gígjarfoss, a waterfall that I discovered during the original trip planning in 2013, and so I’m keen to see it this time around. To be honest the entire day is quite relaxed. Whether I spend the day at the waterfall and arrive late afternoon, or arrive early afternoon and go on a recon mission into the Kerlingarfjoll mountains I don’t know, however the main focus is to arrive at the second base at Kerlingarfjoll at some point.

Kerlingarfjoll offers some stunning landscapes; the lights hues of the rhyolite mountains sandwiched between two vast glacial caps. Peppered around the area are hot springs and fumaroles. There are a number of marked hiking paths in the area of differing lengths and difficulties and with two days to explore I’m going to get see a fair bit. The only thing to watch – as is always the case in Iceland, but particularly in the highlands – is the weather. It can turn from sun to blizzard in a very short period of time.

It is also in Kerlingarfjoll I get to try the Serkort 1:50,000 scale maps. A scale of 1:250,000 is perfect for driving – and you’d have to prise the Ferdakort out of my cold, dead, hands – but for hiking I wanted a lot more detail. Ferdakort do have higher scale maps, but not that I could find in the UK so the Serkort maps are about to get chance.

On day 10, I have a full day of travel as I travel back south along the F35 again before turning west and out to the Snaefellsnes peninsula. The original plan was to turn on to the F338 as this is what Google Maps’ directions option suggested. But while examining both the Ferdakort and Serkort maps I noticed a discrepancy: On the Ferdakort map it lists both the F35 and F338 as gravel roads, but on the Serkort it lists the F338 as a track. A small difference but one that had me asking about the F338 on the Trip Advisor Iceland forum. And, just as well I did as the F338 is apparently a power line service track and one that not only passes through several rivers but it may already be impassable in early September! So, as good as Google is, always double-check your sources!

Luckily with the entire day set aside for travel the error has not put me in a difficult situation and is another reason that travelling in Iceland is best done with plenty of ‘slack’. In this case allowing a whole day for travel had meant the new, significantly longer, path F35 – 37 – 365 – 36 – 48 – 47 not only doesn’t cause a problem it allows me to travel the coastal road around Hvalfjordur and see the fjords there. The real delay will be the innumerable stops I’ll be making.

Google Maps chose the blue line as the 'best' route between Kerlingarfjoll and Grundarfjordur, but best for whom? Reseach and local knowledge suggests the longer, but safer route in blue/white. [Click to enlarge!]

Google Maps chose the shorter blue line as the ‘best’ route between Kerlingarfjoll and Grundarfjordur, but best for whom? Research and local knowledge suggests the longer, but safer, route in blue/white. [Click to enlarge!]

Snaefellsnes Peninsula

From day 11 I’m at my final base of the trip, Grundarfjordur, a small town conveniently located halfway along the peninsula’s northern coastline where I have easy access to many of the locations I want to visit. The Snaefellsnes peninsula is often said to have some of the best landscapes Iceland has to offer including the distinctive Kirkjufell mountain and the Snaefellsjokull glacier made famous by Jules Verne’s Journey to the Centre of the Earth.

Again I’m hoping that the 1:25,000 Serkort maps prove their worth as a lot of the trip here is on foot along the countless hiking paths that criss-cross the peninsula.

The day-to-day plans are much more loosely defined at this point and the only reason that I’ve been so specific for the first two-thirds of the trip is necessity – rapid changes in accommodation and trying to be in places at specific time dictating the schedule. Once on Snaefellsnes I can relax a bit more.

The trip ends on day with a leisurely drive back to Keflavik airport for a late afternoon flight. Even if I err on the side of caution and allow four hours for the journey that still leaves me half the morning to sort out any last minute shots.

Snaefellsnes may be a relatively small peninsula but it offers a wide range of landscapes to photograph. I struggled to limit myself to the dozen points of interest above. [Click to enlarge!]

Planning a photographic trip takes a lot more effort than normal – in large part because everything is so time-dependent. But after a few weeks of planning and a few major changes to the schedule I’m now happy that I have a workable itinerary. I’m confident in the time I have allowed at various places and also in knowing what to expect when travelling (no dubious power line tracks, for example). Importantly I also know where and when to stock up on food and fuel. All I need now is to turn up. Oh, and learn to dive…

Posted in Travel Also tagged diving, Europe, Iceland, trip planning |

The Diving Gift Horse

May

2015

by Dave | 0 Comments

Years ago I subscribed to the UK travel magazine Wanderlust for a short while. It is a magazine that styles itself as one for “adventurous” travellers, eager to go beyond tourism.

One of the first editions I received had an article on Iceland and its lead image, a full page shot, showed a diver in the crystal clear glacial waters of Silfra with arms extended. To their right they touched the vast North American continental plate; to their left the touched the equally gargantuan Eurasian plate. A lone human between trillion tonne lumps of rock.

I can’t dive, but it stuck I in my mind and a few years later in 2013 I found myself planning a trip to Iceland. I made the classic mistake of “doing Iceland” in 14 days although Iceland is in part to blame as it offers those who dare an easy round-the-country path in the form of the oval route 1. After a few weeks of planning I realised that, as someone interested in trying to capture the essence of what they see in a photographic image, this was a foolish idea. Being so close to the departure date meant that I couldn’t change accommodation and so the trip was scrapped.

In 2014 the trip was reborn as a 15 day trip covering a route along the southern coast. It was a good trip with just me and the rental car and three bases to work from. I fell I love with the solitude that Iceland offered me and left with images I felt proud of.

Like most offices across the globe in ours there are always several lines of conversation going on about peoples’ interests and hobbies and you learn to tune out one that you are not particularly interested in. One of the guys at our place is a keen diver – passionate about it – and spends as much free time as he can pursuing his dream. Maybe it was the recent return from Iceland and the remembered full-page image in Wanderlust, or his utter enthusiasm, but I began paying more attention. I put learning to dive on the 2014 list of things to achieve, but then the trip to Ethiopia suddenly appeared and sucked up a lot of time and money. By the end of 2014 I still hadn’t learnt to dive.

But the return from Ethiopia brought two things: First it was the start of a new year – the time at which I set my yearly goals. Second, Ethiopia had cemented in my mind something that had been troubling me for some time – a lack of photographic direction. After witnessing one of the more extreme environments nature has to offer I had a direction. There are many extreme environments on the planet, but the one underwater remains one of the most enigmatic.

So learning to dive is an aim for 2015, but it is nice to have a specific goal to aim for and mine is to dive at Silfra in Iceland. I’ve set an aggressive target; Aiming to get my PADI Open Water certificate in early July, then the PADI Advanced soon after, followed by diving at Silfra in early September. In between there’ll have to be plenty of practice dives too.

I’m under no illusion just how difficult this will be; diving is difficult enough but trying to photograph under water – and in temperatures of 2°C – adds a layer of complexity on top of that where even something as simple on land as standing still becomes a battle underwater. Plus trying to operate a camera with 7mm thick neoprene gloves is an acquired skill. Frankly, right now, I don’t even know how you focus a camera underwater. It is going to be a very steep learning curve and one where the chance of not being good enough to take the images I have in my head is easily 50% and likely much higher.

But if you don’t try you don’t know. If nothing else I’ll be able to learn from the mistakes making the next attempt easier. And anyway, it is a little early for me to be talking about failure. I’m very lucky. I know a passionate diver very willing to give advice and help with any questions and less than an hour’s drive away is a place where I can go and practise diving on a Tuesday evening – which is a traditionally dead evening for me. And as for the expensive underwater camera gear needed, well, I have the loan of that too. At any other point in my life, learning to dive would have a number of challenges to overcome but right now I’m being given this opportunity on a plate.

And, as the saying goes, never look a gift horse in the mouth.

Posted in Travel Also tagged diving, Europe, Iceland, trip planning |

The Danakil Depression: Trip Review Part 5

Mar

2015

by Dave | 0 Comments

Today’s post is the fifth and final part of my review of the photographic expedition to the Danakil Depression. Towards the end I talk about my thoughts on what worked and what did not but let’s start by looking at days 10 through 13: The Tigray Highlands. One confusing fact to bear in mind: As we had gained a day by making an early ascent at Erta Ale, our day 10 may well be your day 11. It is hard to know if your trip will also ascend early – I cannot see why not as we weren’t rushing – and so I’ll stick to our itinerary.

Oh, you may also want to see part 1 (travel & Awash National Park), part 2 (Logia & Lake Afdera), part 3 (Erta Ale) and part 4 (Dalol).

Day 10

Today will be your last sunrise in the Danakil Depression and the stark beauty of the barren landscape. After breakfast and once the 4WD vehicles are packed, you’ll say goodbye to the military and police escorts as they’ll no longer be needed. It also marks the return to tarmac roads courtesy of a foreign mining operation that is has set up outside Hamed Ale. Whilst making the journey smoother, it does serve as a reminder that this once remote and untouched land is no longer quite so remote, or untouched. Given that the Afar people here derive their income from two sources – the salt mining caravan trade and tourism – it is difficult to see how the new-found accessibility will be a good thing for the local ppoulation. It makes the transport required for commercial mining far, far easier which has two critical effects: (1) Make the traditional method of mining little more than a side-show and (2) it will complete the process of killing the wonderful Dalol geysers.

Shortly after leaving Hamed Ale you’ll stop to look at a geologic curiosity – fossils of coral and other marine life. In what is most definitely a dry and arid wilderness this gives a fascinating insight into the land upon which you are now standing. If I understood correctly the coral that you see is three million years old, although there have been many incursions of the Red sea both before and since. It also lends more evidence as to why the salt flats are here: Geologic activity causes the land wall separating the Danakil Depression from the Red Sea to sink, the sea rushes in and then the same geologic activity causes the land wall to rise, stranding an inland sea that evaporates leaving marine life and salt. Repeat the process over a few tens of millions of years and, well, you just spent a few days seeing the result.

A lump of three million year-old coral – one among many just found lying around the landscape. [Click to enlarge!]

You’ll then set off again and begin the climb into the Tigray Highlands. Aside from a couple of short stops there isn’t a lot to do. You’ll stop at Berhale, the terminus of the camel train that you saw at the salt flats. Whilst the isn’t a lot in the way of landscape here, a couple of things did strike me. First you’re beginning to see the life of the salt industry from birth to death and if story-telling photography is your interest, this is a wonderful opportunity, not least as it may be gone in a few years time. Second, you’re leaving the nomadic Afar behind as the makeshift tent-like structures are replaced with brick and concrete buildings.

At the end of the two-day camel caravan is Berhale, a town whose growth is due to the traditional salt industry. Here the salt is loaded onto trucks for country-wide distribution. [Click to enlarge!]

Concrete and stone buildings replace the nomadic Afar’s tent-like structures. [Click to enlarge!]

Chances are that you’ll stop at Berhale for lunch which for us was somewhat bittersweet as we said goodbye to the marvellous cook Muscara. Over that past few days we had all experienced living well outside our comfort zone but the good food (and good coffee!) definitely took the edge off the discomfort.

After lunch you’ll continue the ascent heading toward your destination, Wukro. Again there are a few stops to look at some more geologic curiosities – more marine fossils albeit this time at 2,000 metres up in the mountains – and you do begin to get a sense of how high you’ve climbed throughout the day.

The iPhone 6 made taking panoramic shots so easy that I never used the panoramic head on my tripod. [Click to enlarge!]

Whilst there is a stark contrast between the dry and barren landscape at Dalol and green and farmed landscape of Tigray, the people are an equally stark contrast. As we approached Wukro, a place that can best be described as a large town, we saw an increase in activity: land being farmed, livestock being herded and children going to school. There were definite signs of a recognisable, familiar societal structure and as we arrived in Wukro we could see schools, hospitals, shops and hotels appear. Also in evidence were signs of electricity and sanitation infrastructures. In short, the “roughing it” phase of the trip was over – a fact made all the more real by finally arriving at our hotel.

The rest of the afternoon was spent as free time. For many of us the time was spent re-acquainting ourselves with all the luxuries that a bathroom offers and having the first proper wash in a week! I managed to gain access to the roof – not so hard as I only had to ask – and set up the solar panel. Whilst I had started the journey with a camera battery charger that could work off either mains electricity or solar panel, the rather cheap construction had seen it fail at Erta Ale. I had also forgotten to bring a mains charger for my MacBook Air and so was reliant on the battery pack that came with the solar kit to keep my laptop alive so I could begin key-wording photographs.

After dinner, most of us headed off to bed – after several days of pre-dawn mornings and variable sleeping conditions, the thought of a linen-covered bed was too enticing to ignore.

Day 11

After the first non-dawn start in over a week and a leisurely breakfast you’ll be off out into the Tigray highlands. At an altitude of 2,400 metres the difference in temperature is obvious and during the day you’ll not have to endure anything above 30°C which means you’ll not have to worry about taking the electrolytes any more. Also gone are the wide panoramic vistas, replaced with an undulating hill-scape.

One of the oldest of the Tigray rock-hewn churches is Abrahat Atsebah. [Click to enlarge!]

One of the most visited sights in the area – and one you’ll almost definitely see – are the centuries-old rock churches, so called as they are quite literally caved into the mountain side. Unlike the Muslim Danakil region, Tigray is predominantly orthodox Christian. Those interested in architectural photography will have fun trying to capture the essence of the churches and if people are more your interest then there is plenty of opportunity for portrait/candid work.

A priest at the Wukro Cherkos rock church. [Click to enlarge!]

A priest at one of the Tigray rock churches. [Click to enlarge!]

After the church we went for a drive. For those into portrait work one of the nice things about Tigray over Danakil is that there are always people out-and-about tending to some task. As we drove we stopped a couple of times as the mood took us. One stop was to look for some geologic curiosity – more fossils – although most of us were more interested in the farmer coming up the road with cattle and donkeys. We were spotted by some school children and so there was lots of activity and posing for photos. Further on we stopped to watch some farmers thrashing hay although I was distracted by feeling increasingly ill. Next we stopped at a town although, by this point, I was really feeling awful (the cause later tracked down to a combination of high altitude and alcohol!) and so had to return to the hotel early.

The signs of agriculture can be seen everywhere in Tigray. [Click to enlarge!]

It is hard not to take portraits when there are so many eager volunteers! [Click to enlarge!]

Talking to the others later on, there was a general feeling that more could have been done with the day – a feeling I shared at the time. The reality is that it was still a four or five hour day and more had been planned – another rock church – but we were ahead of schedule by a day so I’m guessing that some of the activities had to be moved to give us something to do on the spare day. Thinking of it that way you can’t really blame the organisers – I would imagine that under normal circumstances it would be hard to organise outings for a group of people at short notice – and we had not been in normal circumstances.

But if you do find yourself at a loose end then a couple of the group paid one of the drivers a little extra to head back out to go and see more of the area. The expedition lead apparently wasn’t too impressed once he found out, but Tigray is far safer than Danakil – not needing a military escort was evidence of that – and it kept (the paying) clients happy. I would certainly have gone had I not been ill and so suggest that, if you do find yourself bored – and Wukro doesn’t have a lot to offer – it could be worth trying to organise a side-trip.

Day 12

Due to the earlier change in schedule today turned out to be a spare day for us – if your expedition keeps to schedule than everything we did yesterday and today will be condensed into a single, busy day for you.

After a very leisurely start we headed out to the second of the rock churches, Wukro Cherkos. Whilst it was interesting I was more interested in trying to cover some portrait work – something I tried in Israel – so I stayed outside for most of it trying to capture some candids.

Waiting. And watching. [Click to enlarge!]

After the church we returned to Wukro to visit the local market. It was good fun and certainly gives plenty of opportunity to take portrait/candid shots as well as pick up some souvenirs. You’ll also see the final stage of the salt industry you saw started in Danakil as most of the stalls are selling spices and, of course, salt.

A stall at the Wukro market selling spices and, of course, salt. [Click to enlarge!]

After the market you’ll make the relatively short journey to Me’kele – Tigray’s capital city – in time for lunch. To all intents the expedition is now over and you’re going to be left to your own devices for the remainder of the time. I did struggle to get anything worthwhile (photographically) out of the afternoon as there’s not a landscape in sight, but if you’re interested in portrait or urban work the you’ll have busy afternoon.

The markings of an Orthodox Christain women. [Click to enlarge!]

Day 13

In the morning you’ll take a domestic flight back to the capital Addis (by now you’ll have dropped the Ababa part) and back to the hotel you started from almost two weeks earlier. As everyone’s international flight leave at different times you’ll also be saying a lot of goodbyes.

Depending upon when you leave – mine was a 2AM flight the following morning – and you’re tolerance for boredom you likely be out in the capital for at least part of the afternoon. As a city there is plenty of opportunity for portrait and urban shots.

=-=-=-=

So, that is it: An overview of the only expedition to the Danakil Depression that concentrates on photography and currently the only one that spends a significant time at the Erta Ale volcano. At approx. £5,000 including flights it is certainly not cheap, and conditions for the most part are basic to say the least, so the most important question is: Do I recommend it?

The short answer is: It depends.

Before I give my views it is worth pointing out the expedition type is described by VolcanoDiscovery (the organisers) as “active volcanoes, photography, adventure” with a character that is “long, bumpy 4×4 transfers, possibly extremely hot temperatures in the desert, intense exposure to sand, salt and dust, very basic sleeping and washing conditions while outside established towns”. This, in my mind, is an accurate description of what I experienced.

Whether I recommend this trip depends on one important element: You.

Over the previous four parts of the review I have described the accommodation and the sanitary facilities at each stage of the trip and, if you haven’t already done so, I strongly urge you read these as, for some of you, it will be enough to persuade you that you’ll have a horrible time. For half the trip there are no toilets, no washing basins, no soap and certainly no showers. For most people it will be the sanitary conditions that dissuade them. The sleeping conditions are also, for half the trip basic – sleeping in rock huts on volcanic ash covered ground, for example. Even when in hotels bear in mind that this is Africa. For me, the rooms were great – clean and comfortable – but I know people who would have been shocked.

Most people who embark on a expedition like this are going to be outside of their comfort zone and so more stressed than usual. You’ll need to take a sense of purpose with you. I didn’t travel because I was half-way curious about volcanoes; I travelled because I really, really wanted to get some landscape shots of this stunning place. Others travelled because that’s what they do – travel to volcanoes around the World. Having a strong purpose for going overrode the discomfort. A sense of humour helps too: We had a great group of people who all seemed to focus on the positive aspects and were willing to make the most of the situation they were in. People like that make a big difference.

So, to summarise:

Reasons to consider this trip:

Excellent landscape photography.
You have a (more than passing) interest in volcanism or plate geology.

Reason to not consider this trip:

Wildlife, urban or architectural photography.
Portrait photography – as there are better opportunities elsewhere.
You simply want to see a volcano.
You struggle under adverse conditions.
You like comfort.

The highlight of the expedition, by far is the time spent at the Erta Ale volcano and lava lake. I thought Antarctica was stunning and could not be surpassed for raw, ethereal, beauty, but standing at the edge of a lake of boiling lava is an event I will carry with me for ever.

After the lava lake the next most impressive location is Dalol which is, from what we were told, in the process of disappearing due to the underground volcanic fissures that drive the geothermal activity being damaged by a potash mining operation in the area. As striking as Dalol hot springs are they are not a compelling ‘headline’ destination in their own right (at least in their current state), although there is an argument that the fact that they, and the local salt mining using traditional methods, are both under threat from extinction make them worth seeing as soon as possible.

In my opinion, the other sights we saw are ‘add-ons’, convenient sights along the way. It would have been nice to have more time at Lake Afdera, simply to get some varied landscape shots, but again, it is a stopping point en route to the main attraction.

The weakest part of the trip for me was the time spent in Tigray. Some of this may be due to the fact that we had just spent several days looking at some stunning landscapes, but still, I just didn’t find it engaging.

Aside from the locations it is worth mentioning some other aspects of the trip’s organisation.

What worked:

Small group.
Geologist guide.
Good drivers.
Good cook.

What didn’t work:

No generator.
Time spent in Tigray.
Lack of mineral export licenses (but you may be lucky and sneak some pieces through upon exit).

What’s essential to take:

Good hiking boots.
Electrolytes – water alone will be dangerous.
More camera batteries/cards than you think you’ll need.
Mosquito Repellent.
Toilet tissue/wet wipes/alcohol-based sanitiser.
Gas mask.
Wide-angle lens – 17mm on a full-frame body is perfect.

All of the trips I undertake get rated in an essentially simple fashion: Knowing what I now after returning, and assuming that nothing could be changed, would I spend the same money again to go a second time? Erta Ale alone makes the answer ‘yes’. Is that a recommendation?

Posted in Destinations Also tagged Africa, Danakil Depression, disappearing world, Erta Ale, Ethiopia, Landscape, volcano |

The Danakil Depression: Trip Review Part 4

Feb

2015

by Dave | 2 Comments

The fourth and penultimate part of the trip report looks at, what for me, was the second reason for coming to the Danakil Depression: Dallol. But before you read on, you may also be interested in part 1, part 2 and part 3.

Day 7

By now it will be no surprise that it is another early start although alas not to head out to the lava lake. The aim will be to get back down to the base camp in time for breakfast which, depending upon how fast your gear is packed on the camel and how fast you walk, will take about three hours.

The journey back down Erta Ale is pretty easy going and there will be plenty of opportunities for shooting despite setting off in pitch darkness. Sunrise will occur about an hour or so into the descent although aside from the occasional water stop you probably won’t have many – or any – extended breaks. The last time you were here was during the ascent in pitch black so it is interesting to see how various plants have found the ability to survive in the volcanic landscape. There are lots of opportunity for shooting the contrast of the green against the volcanic rock and also the volcanic ash plains that can easily be mistaken for sand. Whether you can make use of the landscape really depends upon your ability to shoot ‘on-the-go’.

Dawn approaches as we descend from Erta Ale. [Click to enlarge!]

I had a lot more success with the camels and, despite having no interest in wildlife photography managed, after a few attempts, to get some reasonable results of them in silhouette against the rising sun.

Once back at the base camp, you’ll likely have a couple of hours before setting off for Dalol. Aside from breakfast, which has to be prepared and then everything cleaned and repacked, the camels have to be unloaded and everything packed back in the 4WD vehicles. This will be your first chance to recharge the camera batteries (unless you packed a solar charger as I did) so make good use of it although as you can probably imagine, everyone will be in the same predicament as you.

Camels are a critical part of the Afar way of life and so get treated with love and care. [Click to enlarge!]

After the vehicles are packed it will be time to head further north and up to the very top of the Danakil Depression. The journey continues along the ash plains and so expect a lot of dust. This is a dry land although surprisingly there are a lot of low bushes managing to eek out an existence here.

Despite not having to cover a lot of distance the journey is slow work; even in 4WD vehicles with skilled drivers it is not a journey to take lightly: Out here in the intense heat a flat tyre will be a real irritation; two of them begins to be a problem. We stopped to help one of the Afar locals and his family after we found their vehicle broken down, after all one day it could be one of the expedition vehicles.

Lunch time is spent at a palm oasis although it is far removed from the idealised ones you’ll see advertising tropical islands. Now that you’re back at 130 metres below sea level and in the basin (the name Danakil Depression is literally from the fact that there is a depression in the ground at Danakil) at midday the sun is really making itself felt. Most people, somewhat sensibly stayed under the cover of the palms, but I had a mission based on a mini-project of capturing the four elements: Fire, water, air and earth. I felt that, after two days at Erta Ale, I had probably captured the ‘fire’ image, and ‘water’ was covered from when I was in Iceland. ‘Earth’ was more tricky as it can be interpreted somewhat broadly but, in keeping with the extreme nature of my fire and water images, I was after an equally extreme earth shot – and the heat-seared, cracked surface I was seeing here may just work. So off I went in search of inspiration.

The sun literally bakes the ground. [Click to enlarge!]

I also re-learnt a valuable lesson. I had asked earlier if there would be an opportunity to see a big area of heat-cracked ground as I was initially thinking of a nice big landscape shot with cracked ground as far as the eye could see. Apparently there was “a really nice one” coming up after lunch and so, laying prostrate on the unsurprisingly very hot ground in the noon-day sun, I was really quite tempted to give up and wait for the better opportunity coming up. But I didn’t, mainly as there was nothing else to do and I do get bored easily, so I carried on shooting a series, one of which is above. It is just as well I persevered as the “really nice one” really wasn’t and I had been very close to giving up an opportunity. So my lessons for the day were (1) always make use of the opportunities you are given even if a better one is on the horizon and (2) don’t take photographic advice from a geologist.

Ash, as far as the eye can see [Click to enlarge!]

After lunch the 4WD journey continues although as the terrain changes you’ll pick up speed. By mid afternoon you’ll arrive at Hamed Ale, what best can be described as a shanty town whose sole existence is to act as a stop for the camel trains that loop between the Danakil salt flats and the town of Berhale on the Tigray lowlands. After spending a few nights on the ash floors of the shacks at Erta Ale, accommodation is a definite improvement being a bedframe out under the stars. As basic as it sounds it was comfortable and I think most of us slept well. The sanitary conditions also improve, although marginally: we now have a hole in the ground almost surrounded by corrugated iron.

Luxury is relative. After four days without a toilet the sanitary facilities at Hamed Ale were a step up. Toilet is on the left; bucket-shower on the right. [Click to enlarge!]

Yes, a few days ago at Lake Afdera we were horrified at the prospect and yet now we were thankful: It’s amazing how easily your expectations can change when you’ve experienced the alternatives. As a bonus the corrugated iron toilet is one half of a structure, the other half being an equally-sized shower area. By shower I mean a bucket of water, but after three days of having to use chemical wipes to get the dirt and dust off my face, that bucket was heaven.

The rest of the afternoon is spent relaxing and heading out a short distance to watch the camel trains arrive from the salt plains loaded with their cargo. You’ll probably still be looking to charge the camera batteries – there is bound to have been a queue for in-car charging – but unless your expedition has a generator you’ll be out of luck. I simply set my solar charger up on the roof of a building we were using as a kitchen and for luggage storage and let nature work her magic. Honestly, I really recommend taking a good solar charger.

En route from the salt plains to Berhale [Click to enlarge!]

Our temporary home at Hamed Ale and a testament to the fact that travelling with the right people makes everything fun! [Click to enlarge!]

To be honest Hamed Ale is not particularly outstanding; it is a village of the same semi-permanent structures used by the Afar everywhere. They look, frankly, messy, but the Afar are a nomadic people – building permanent structures is not only pointless but would be time-consuming and costly. There is a military base here, larger than the one at the Erta Ale base camp and on the military compound is a bar with cold drinks, including beer. Indulging in a bed, rudimentary sanitary facilities and a cold drink after the past few days is guaranteed to make you smile.

It will be another early night, but falling asleep whilst looking up at the stars is a wonderful way to nod off…

Day 8

It will be another pre-dawn rise today in order to go and see the second main site that the area has to offer: The hot springs at Dallol. The area is accessible at any time but the idea is to beat the midday heat – a taste of which you had yesterday at the oasis yesterday. It is worth making sure that you have (at least) two litres of water with you: When we leaving the area we heard that a lady in another group had just collapsed, presumably a combination of dehydration and poor choice of clothes from what we saw later. This is another of the “fly-by” stops that the shorter trips visit and so, as they usually don’t camp in the area, an early start also means that you’ll avoid a lot of the other groups.

Dallol was once described by National Geographic as being one of the most remote places on Earth. [Click to enlarge!]

The hot springs are in the caldera of the Dallol volcano and although nowhere near as active as Erta Ale – Dallol last erupted in 1926 and now displays no fluid magma – it has its own very unique appeal.

A bizarre landscape that is sadly now but a shadow of what it once was. [Click to enlarge!]

You would easily be forgiven for thinking that someone had been at work in Photoshop when looking at photographs of the area: There is an other-worldly mix of blues, greens, yellows, whites and purples. Although it has been nearly 90 years since the last eruption the area is a fracture in the Earth’s crust and a number of geysers vent here. You should heed the warnings given as although not explosive geysers such as seen in El Tatio or Yellowstone, what they lack in power they make up in substance, the pools of liquid you see around the area are high-molar mineral acid measuring less than 1.0 on the pH scale.

You’ll get a few hours at Dalol and despite that fact that the heat will likely have passed the 40°C mark by 10AM it is worth making the effort to stay. A few years ago the area was much larger – and all the more impressive – but a Canadian potash mining operation about 30km distant is disrupting the underground fissures that make up the plumbing system of the area and causing significant damage to the landscape in front of you. The result is a drab brown crust that is slowly replacing the fantastic multi-coloured vents and ground. Talking to the geologist with us it is quite possible that within five years this place will either be gone completely or so compromised that it won’t classify as being an ‘area’ at all.

This is what the stunning, other-worldly landscape of Dallol is becoming due to potash mining. [Click to enlarge!]

The other thing that may be of interest here is the ghost town left after an Italian mining company deserted the area in the 1960s. There is not much of it left – the salt and acid rich environment likely having something to do with that, but it is a curiousity. Still scattered around the remaining furnaces are lumps of refined sulphur as a testament to the fact that the mineral-rich area is being exploited by everyone except the Ethiopians.

The area was once a riot of vivid yellows, green, blues and white. buy nearby potash mining has had a devastating effect. [Click to enlarge!]

The area was once a riot of vivid yellows, green, blues and white. but nearby potash mining has had a devastating effect. [Click to enlarge!]

The most disappointing aspect of the day was that it was so short. After leaving the bizarre landscape we returned back to the camp for lunch and then just stayed there which was more than a little frustrating from a landscape photography point-of-view simply as there is not a lot to work with, certainly in the afternoon sun. There is a lot more opportunity for portraits and candids, however, so if this is something that you are interested in then you’ll easily while away the afternoon. Some of us used the time to sort though the images from the past few days and some used the time to catch up on sleep, but I and the other photographers would much rather have been out again. The afternoon turned uneventfully into evening and then night.

Day 9

Like yesterday you’ll be up for dawn and heading out before the sun realises you’ve gone. We followed the same track out to the hot springs which again took us past the camel train heading out to the salt flats to pick up their cargo. You’ll almost definitely make a stop to watch them although whether you stop today or the previous day may be open for debate.

The daily camel train heading out to the salt flats to pick up their cargo of white gold. [Click to enlarge!]

The camel train is a centuries-old and fundamental part of the Afar culture in Dallol. The salt still being mined on these flats was once the only form of currency and although money is now the preferred method of payment the Afar still make their living off the mining and transport of salt – or white gold as it is called. What you’ll see in the morning is the daily camel train heading out to pick up their cargo – salt blocks – before heading back to Hamed Ale for the evening. Any photographic opportunities here will be constantly in motion so, despite the heat, you may be rushing around a fair bit.

Where you actually head after that I’m not too sure; I thought that we were heading back to the hot springs, but we actually took a turn and headed off into a salt canyon. From a landscape point-of-view there’s a lot on offer here and in many ways resembles a limestone canyon with deep crevasses and odd-shaped sculptures resulting from erosion. I would like to have had more time here and so it may be worth asking ahead of time if you can – we were back at the camp by lunchtime and so the day isn’t a busy one.

Cliffs of salt dominate the landscape and provide some excellent landscape to work with. [Click to enlarge!]

From the canyon we headed out towards the salt plains stopping to look at more evidence of the fragile nature of the landscape here. The African continent is being ripped apart by geologic forces resulting in the tectonic plate upon which the African continent sits being split in two. This process is happening along the boundary of the African plate and the Arabian place and hence the geologic fault being called the Afar Triple Junction. The process is slow by human standards – approximately 100 million years – but eventually this entire region will be the seabed of a new sea.

More evidence of the destruction of a continent. This fault has only appeared in the last year and mirrors the 6500km fault that is pushing eastern Africa away from the rest of the continent. [Click to enlarge!]

More evidence of the destruction of a continent. This fault has only appeared in the last year and mirrors fault system that is pushing eastern Africa away from the rest of the continent. [Click to enlarge!]

From here you’ll head off to the salt plains, stopping at more hot springs along the way.

The salt plains are an interesting place and offer excellent opportunities for portrait and candid photography. Although not really my area of interest, it is hard not to be captivated in the centuries-old techniques of mining salt that you’ll see here. It is truly back-breaking hard labour under the unrelenting sun and the workers get paid a pittance for each block of salt that they carve from the ground. Most of the workers are not actually the Afar, but rather Tigrayans who leave the highlands to come and earn money working six hours a day, six days a week, up to ten months a year. Working in small teams and using only basic tools – pick axes and wooden poles to crack open the surface and a small, bladed, hand tool – they carve up the salt crust and shape the large fragments into small, rectangular blocks approximately 35cm long and weighting 4kg.

Getting ready to load the camel for the two-day journey back to Berhale. [Click to enlarge!]

The resulting salt blocks are then stacked, tied together and loaded onto camels and donkeys for the 50km, two-day journey to Berhale where from where they will be distributed across Ethiopia.

As with the hot springs that you saw yesterday, the salt miners that you see today are living on borrowed time: A new tarmac road – the first of its kind in the area – has just been completed in December 2014 – and with it the ability to get large-scale commercial transport into the area. Given that salt mining is a lucrative business it won’t be long before a commercial mining operation is set up at which point the centuries-old tradition that you see now will all but fade away.

After visiting the salt plains we returned back to the camp for lunch and more ‘free time’ which was more than a little disappointing given the opportunities that were available but needed a 4WD to get to. It may be possible – and I didn’t even think to ask at the time – to pay a bit extra and head back out, although you’ll have to pay for a military and police escort as well as the driver’s time. However, I suspect that you won’t be the only one willing to pay for the opportunity.

Today is also the last day that you are in the Danakil region and among the Afar people so if you are interested in cultural or portrait work this will be your last time to interact with these proud people.

In the fifth and final part I’ll look at the time spent in the Tigray highlands and discuss the expedition’s strengths and weaknesses.

Some more images…

Descending from Erta Ale. [Click to enlarge!]

An Afar military guard watches the only road in to the area. [Click to enlarge!]

Life survives in even the harshest environment. [Click to enlarge!]

Dunes of volcanic ash [Click to enlarge!]

Years of use has produced a polished salt track across the land. [Click to enlarge!]

Posted in Destinations Also tagged Africa, Danakil Depression, disappearing world, Ethiopia, Landscape, volcano |

The Danakil Depression: Trip Review Part 1

Jan

2015

by Dave | 0 Comments

Back in the middle of last year, once I had begun take the idea of going to Ethiopia seriously I started to read around on what options I had. I knew that I wanted to see the Erta Ale volcano and the bizarre landscape at Dallol – both conveniently close to each other in the Danakil Depression – but, other than that, I was open to suggestions.

There were many options for four and five day trips that covered the Danakil region but I just knew that, from a photographic standpoint, these were going to be too rushed. There was one trip I found that was 13 days in length and, more importantly, billed as a photographic expedition, but I could find very little independent review on this. To be honest, there wasn’t really too much more describing the shorter trips either.

One of the main reasons that I was more keen than usual to read the experiences of other travellers was that the Danakil region is listed by the UK government as being an area to which you should not travel for any reason, a fact that makes it very difficult to get any form of travel insurance from a UK company. I did ask for advice on one of the photography forums explaining that I couldn’t find much about these trips on the web to which the replies were generally unhelpful stating “that should tell me something”. So in the end my trip was really a result of a bit of a leap of faith. Because of my inability to find anything useful to help me know what to expect – both as photographer and simply as a curious traveller – I have decided to describe the trip I took – in general and its usefulness to photographers – in the hope that, if you too are thinking of going, I can answer some of your questions.

Before continuing I just want to clear up a few of so-called “facts” that you’ll see mentioned time and again as you read various web sites:

“The Danakil Depression is the hottest place on the planet.” No, it is not. It currently has the title of ‘place with the highest average temperature’ which is not the same thing. In fact the measurements upon which this record is based were taken at the (now) ghost town of Dalol (often written Dallol) back in the 1960s. It does get hot of course, but when I was there in December the temperature really only reaches the early 40’s centigrade. The thing that you’ll notice is that even once the sun goes down, the temperature remains in the high 20’s throughout the night. Keep covered up and drink plenty of water mixed with rehydration salts.
“It is a seriously dangerous region for tourists.” At the most northerly point of where you’ll travel you’ll be very close – about 8km – from the highly disputed border with Eritrea. The short story is that Ethiopia tried to annex Eritrea in the 1960’s which lead to the 30 year Eritrean War of Independence that Eritrea finally ‘won’ in 1991. Since then relations have been cool, but with the exception of a couple of clashes – the 1998 – 2000 Ethiopian/Eritrean War being the most notable – the border is generally stable.
“There is a risk from terrorism.” Well, yes. But there is in most major western cities too. What this refers to is the 2012 attack at Erta Ale that killed five tourists, injured two and kidnapped four (later released). The attack was carried out by the Afar Revolutionary Democratic Unity Front, the Afar being the nomadic tribes that live in the Danakil region. There was also a kidnap in 2007 with an attempted one in 2008. So yes, there is a risk that you have to consider. However, the Ethiopian government, and perhaps more importantly, the Afar themselves, understand just how much money tourism brings in to the region and they have moved a long way to providing security for guests. Both Erta Ale and Dalol have military bases and you have military and police escorts from when you enter the region until when you leave.
“The Afar are known to castrate foreigners”. Oh please. Yes, back in the 1930s there was custom that, as a rite of passage into manhood, a boy had to castrate a member of a neighbouring tribe. But that over 80 years ago. Women had barely been given the right to vote in the UK at that point, we’ve had World War 2, nearly had World War 3 and the word ‘minging’ regrettably has entered the Oxford English dictionary. A lot has changed since the 1930s and the Afar have too. So, don’t worry; you’re going to leave Ethiopia with all the bits you arrived with.

The reason I want to highlight – and rebuff – these oft made comments is that they can cause people to not travel to one of the most stunning places on Earth. It is OK if you decide not to travel, but it is important to do it based on facts.

Trip Options

Most of the shorter trips start and end in the Tigray capital town of Mek’ele. This has the benefit of being significantly closer to the Danakil Depression – and where you really want to be – but it does mean that international visitors will need to factor in time to get from the international airport in Addis Ababa to Mek’ele – this most likely being via an internal flight. At around US $600 the shorter trips are a lot cheaper but, from a photography perspective, pretty much pointless. Whilst some will likely disagree, the whole point for me was to spend time at the lava lake at Erta Ale and walk away with images I was happy with. Looking at the itineraries of all the four-to-five day trips I could find and they all had the same basic approach: Begin the three-hour ascent to the lava lake in the early evening, head over to the lava lake and then descend in the early morning. So all you get is a few hours in the dark at the lava lake. For this reason alone, I would not recommend them, but there are other reasons I’ll cover in the later posts looking at days 4 to 6.

At the time of looking at my options there were really only two other choice available. The first would have been to arrange a custom tour, but given the complex geography, harsh climate and political instability (both with neighbouring Eritrea and within the Afar clans themselves) this would have resulted in a serious financial outlay. The second option was the 13-day trip offered by the German company Volcano Discovery. As it turns out the actual trip is handled by Addis-based Origins Ethiopia and it is they that provided the vehicles and drivers, the cook, and the guide as well as organising the police and military escorts required in parts of the Danakil Depression. You will pay a lot more than $600 – it was $4700 in 2014 – but if you are travelling with the aim of landscape photography, or even just to understand the region a bit more then the shorter trips are really going to leave you disappointed. That said, I am not saying that the trip I took was perfect and I’ll cover the strengths and weaknesses (for me) in a later blog entry.

An overview of the route taken on the 13 trip.

An overview of the route taken on the 13 day trip. The lines in blue show the sections where you’re mostly sitting in the 4WD vehicles. The real fun happens between evenings 3 and 9…

Despite the trip being advertised as a 13 day tour of the Danakil Depression you are not going to be spend 13 days behind the camera. This is in no way a criticism of the tour’s itinerary but it does reflect the fact that it is a big country and it takes time to get from one location to the next, especially as Erta Ale and Dallol have been described by National Geographic as being in one of the most remote places on Earth. In the end you will have about five days of solid landscape photography time, quite a few 30 minute blocks when you stop at some of the other points of interest (such as the rock churches in Tigray) and lots of quick five minute stops. You’ll probably be shooting a lot from a moving vehicle too.

One of the many short stops you’ll make over the next 13 days. The trip is all about volcanoes and geology and with a trained geologist for a guide you’ll certainly learn about geology… [Click to enlarge!]

I’ll divide the review into several parts over the next couple of weeks simply because the overall thing is quite large. I’ve written this is referring to “you” an awful lot so I better explain why. Simply I am working on the basis that, if you do decide to travel to the region, you’ll bypass the shorter trips and opt for the longer one – of which Volcano Discover/Origins Ethiopia seem to be the only one who really focus on Erta Ale. As this is an expedition they have run a number of times now it is pretty much a set schedule and the trip I had will most likely be the one you have. I do refer to “I” every so often – usually to voice some personal feeling, or simply because I forgot to say “you”!

Day 1

The first day’s travel was along route 4 to Awash National Park covering a stretch of approximately 200km… [Click to enlarge!]

Depending upon how you organise your international flights you’ll likely arrive early morning on a red-eye flight. The international airport is surprisingly close to the heart of Addis and so this gives you a couple of hours to have breakfast at the hotel, freshen up and, in my case, transfer everything I needed from a suitcase to a backpack before the expedition officially begins. You spend the rest of the day driving the 200km to Awash National Park where the first night is spent. How much photography you get done is largely dependent upon your interests – and your ability to shoot from a moving vehicle. There are stops, of course, for lunch and a couple of volcanic craters, but it could be difficult to get a decent composition from them given the short time you stop at them. As there are few stops I did end up shooting from the 4WD as it made its way across the landscape but I’m not a “shoot from the hip” photographer. One of the other guys produced some great shots this way so you may be lucky and is something I would definitely practise before you arrive as you will pass some interesting sights. Perhaps of more interest would be the frequent road-side villages that have developed that you see as you drive. You will only get to see these villages today and tomorrow as they are a result of being on the main route (routes 4, 18 and 2) between Addis and the port cities in neighbouring Djibouti and so there’s a lot -and I mean a LOT – of transportation along the route.

On the first day of driving we saw in the region of 20 overturned trucks. [Click to enlarge!]

And another one… [Click to enlarge!]

Speaking of the transportation another thing you’ll see is a lot of accidents. It is hard to give an exact figure – simply as we didn’t start counting until after we had seen the first few – but a good guesstimate would be around 20. That is 20 articulated lorries – some with the 40 foot freight containers on them. As grim as it sounds, one of the first we saw still had blood dripping out of the crushed cabin. It is a long road from Djibouti to Addis and there are no maximum hours for driving.

At the lodge in the national park there may be some time before darkness completely takes hold to make the easy three minute trek to the Awash waterfalls. The waterfall is certainly worth taking the time photograph – what will be against you is the fact that you arrive late in the afternoon. The light likely will not be ideal, but you can get creative with some light painting.

: The light was fading even as we arrived, but a handy torch always comes in useful! [Click to enlarge]

The evening was spent in comfort. The food was good and the beds comfortable. Mosquitoes are a problem here – you are close to water after all – and so make sure you are protected. You will also get to bathe properly as the huts have a toilet and shower, albeit the water is not that warm and has a distinct odour to it. Still enjoy it a few days from now you’ll give anything for a cold, odd-smelling shower. The other thing you will get to experience, which for a town-dweller like myself was breath-taking – is the night sky. Before coming to Ethiopia, read up on how to photograph the night sky – you won’t regret it!

Day 2

Day two is more time in the 4WD vehicles covering distance… [Click to enlarge!]

The day starts reasonably late at about 7AM with breakfast although you may be up about an hour earlier if you’re hoping to find a good angle for sunrise. There is an argument that a dawn start at Awash is worthwhile but the most impressive sight there is the waterfall which is largely cast in deep shadow even after sunrise due to the high cliff face immediately opposite.

If you’re looking to get some quality wildlife photography this may not be the trip for you. We spent a couple of hours in Awash National Park and saw relatively few animals… [Click to enlarge!]

You also get to experience the very flexible notion of time that will be the norm for the rest of the trip – the 8AM start is more like 9AM before everyone is ready and the 4WDs area packed. The day starts with a couple of hours in the national park itself day although – and please remember that I am not interested in wildlife photography – it is not that spectacular.

The remainder of the day is spent driving a further 360km north to Logia – what is possibly best described as a truck-stop town. Again there are a few token stops and you may be able to get a good composition from them. You’ll likely stop for lunch in one of the many road-side town that you have been passing through since starting yesterday and it is really you’re first opportunity to see how rural Ethiopians live up close.

Today you’ll get to stop in one of the road-side towns that have grown around the busy transport link between Addis and Djibouti [Click to enlarge!]

One of the things you will also begin to notice is the panoramic vistas. This is a big country with big stretches of nothingness – it is a land of unbroken horizons.

The second day begins to show just how empty Ethiopia can be… [Click to enlarge!]

Again the accommodation was fine – a basic hotel, but clean and there was a toilet, shower (again cool) and electricity. Now would be a good time to make sure that all your batteries are charged as from here on in, with the exception of the cigarette lighters, there is no electricity and with everyone wanting to charge phones and cameras, there’s guaranteed to be a queue. Or you could do what I did and take a solar charger.

Here we were also introduced to the cook Muscara who would be preparing us food for the next few days and had just prepared dinner. There is a saying that ‘an army marches upon it’s stomach’. How true this is I do not know, but I do know that a person can forgive a lot of discomfort when they are happily fed. At the end of the trip when we were all discussing what we had experienced, we all agreed that the high quality of food made a lot of what we had been through bearable. Whilst this may seem a little melodramatic, it is worth remembering that at this point we are still in relative civilisation.

Speaking of which enjoy the sleep you get tonight as it will be your last in civilisation for a while…

Posted in Destinations, Travel, Uncategorized Also tagged Africa, Dallol, Danakil Depression, Erta Ale, Ethiopia, Landscape, volcano |

Voltaic Systems’ 17W Solar Charger Field Review

Jan

2015

by Dave | 1 Comment

Back in November I gave my initial impressions of the Voltaic Systems solar charging kit and its applicability to photographers in the field. At the time I also mentioned that, as with many things, the real test would be in an actual field trial. Well, after two weeks on location in northern Ethiopia it is safe to say that it has been put through its paces and its strengths and weaknesses revealed.

The kit I took to Ethiopia consisting of the panel (top), the red cable connecting the panel and V72 battery, the black cable to connect the V72 to the camera charger and the white/black cable to connect to my MacBook Air. The car charger (bottom) also came in useful. The camera charger is not shown as it did not survive… [Click to enlarge]

The kit in question is the 17W single-panel kit consisting of the panel, the V72 20,000mAh lithium polymer battery and a number of connecting cables and adapters. In addition to the base kit I ordered the Canon LP-E6 battery charger and an Apple MagSafe power adapter for a 2011 model MacBook Air. It is hard to tell whether the panel and V72 are designed by Voltaic or merely off-the-shelf items but the advantage to me as a photographer was that I didn’t have to spent inordinate amounts of time trying to work out which items were required, which were not and whether they would work together. The Canon battery charger was definitely a third-party item (more on that later) whilst the MagSafe adapter was definitely hand-crafted by Voltaic.

PREPARING FOR THE TRIP

Before heading out I knew that, given our location, there would be no chance of a power source during critical parts of the journey. There are some stunning landscapes in the north of the country, but they are far from civilisation. So, whatever power requirements I had needed to be met by the kit that I carried. In the original article I outlined what I considered to be fairly simple needs: I needed a means to charge the LP-E6 batteries for the 5D Mk II and 7D bodies and also my MacBook Air that would be used for the end-of-day review and image backup. It was a simple requirement and one that the Voltaic web site suggested fell well within the capabilities of the kit.

I had also given a fair amount of consideration to how – and when – I would need to charge my equipment and I anticipated two basic scenarios. First, when moving between locations in the 4WD vehicles. Second, when on location. In the first scenario, we’d be spending a lot of time sitting around and not doing much shooting. According to the itinerary, these would be long days driving and arriving at the destination after sunset. In the second scenario, we’d be out-and-about but with a fixed camp to return to at the end of the day.

The issue that I could see, however, was that there was no easy way to attach the solar panel to the vehicle. Voltaic Systems had very kindly included a set of plastic attachments that would allow the panel to be tied to something (for example with velcro or cable ties), but they weren’t too much use on a vehicle. Luckily a good friend of mine has a mechanical aptitude and a comprehensive workshop, after a few conversations, he created a magnetic mounting kit for the panel. Now I could attach the panel to any magnetic surface – such as the roof of a 4WD – and simply run the connecting cable to the V72 safely inside the cabin. So now I was ready: I could mount the panel on a vehicle, a camel or any other fixed structure.

Although not part of the provided system the magnetic mount really made a huge difference – and one I recommend Voltaic Systems consider adding… [Click to enlarge]

A close-up of the panel on the 4WD showing the (home-made) silver metal magnetic mounts and the (provided) plastic loops in each corner for cable-tie mounting. The panel happily survived repeated bumps and knocks as well as being covered in dust and volcanic ash… [Click to enlarge]

One of the nice things about the V72 battery is that you do not have to use the solar panel to charge it. The recommended input is a 14-20V DC input and the kit came with an appropriate mains adapter for this purpose. Initial tests in the UK (and shown in the original article) also showed the solar panel happily generated around the 20V mark. Voltaic also include a cigarette lighter lead suggesting that even a 12V DC supply can charge the battery. This was especially convenient as, for the first few days as we covered the 700km from the capital to the north of the Rift Valley, we would have access to cigarette lighters in the 4WD vehicles. Once at the Erta Ale base camp however, where we swapped transport to camels, we would be on our own.

One of the things that separates Voltaic’s solar kit apart from the other ones I researched is the capacity of the V72. At 20,000mAh it has, in theory, enough reserve for ten of Canon’s 1,800mAh LP-E6 batteries although Voltaic’s web site suggests a more conservative 3.5 times reserve. Voltaic also suggested that a single, full, charge of the V72 would be enough to replenish the Air’s own internal cells.

Using the ten foot cable I had a lot of flexibility as to where I put the V72 in the 4WD. All I then had to do was wait for the sun to work its magic… [Click to enlarge]

The charging process can work in one of two ways, depending upon what you are charging. Voltaic’s web site suggests that camera batteries can be charged directly from the panel, presumably relying on the battery charger’s regulation circuitry to ensure the battery is not over-cooked. However, smart phone and laptop charging should be performed via the V72 battery. In the end everything was charged via the V72 battery although it was here that I hit a bit of an inconvenience. Voltaic offer two cables (the red cables in the photographs) to connect the panel to the V72, one at 4 feet and one at 10 feet in length. In both cases they are terminated in a 3.5mm male DC plug. This is fine for the camera charger but for the V72 – which takes a 5.5mm input – a small (provided) adapter had to be used. One thing I have learnt is that when moving about at some point during the various unpackings and repackings, you lose small stuff. It is inevitable. Given that Voltaic only recommend direct charging for camera batteries, this seems an odd choice of connector. In the end I replaced the provided 3.5mm plug with a 5.5mm plug before heading out.

The other reason that I ended up always charging the V72 is one of convenience. At 12° north of the equator we were still in winter and so daylight hours were limited. Sunrise was around 6:30AM and sunset around 6:30PM. The activities of the day meant that direct charging was almost always impractical until we came to a halt in the evening.

IN USE

The first few days were spent covering distance as we moved up country. Long hours in the 4WD interspersed with stops to examine some interesting geologic phenomenon. It was a light draw upon the camera batteries but in the evening it was still worth topping them up from the V72. An unexpected power drain, however, was the iPhone 6. Quite by accident I began to use it to record video clips and take those panoramas that didn’t quite seem worth setting up the panoramic tripod head for. The iPhone turns out some quite reasonable results, but its video capabilities have a heavy drain on the battery.

With the added load of the iPhone battery using the long hours of driving to keep the V72 fully charged turned out to be very useful. Even so, the first few days were a gentle introduction for the charging kit.

Home at Erta Ale. “A compact, fully air-conditioned, one bedroom apartment backing on to a stunning panoramic landscape.” it said in the brochure. It even came with free mice… [Click to enlarge]

Once we arrived at the Erta Ale base camp and headed up the volcano, the solar charging kit panel took a more fundamental role. A few of the other travellers also had Canon 5D MkII and/or 7D bodies, one had a quadracopter and the rest had their own cameras form different manufacturers. With three days at the edge of a lava lake we all became a little shutter-happy. I managed, with no real effort, to take over a 1000 shots as well as a large number of video clips and I was not alone. The quadracopter was set free and captured some stunning footage although you could literally watch the batteries drain. The problem was that we had zero access to power. The 4WD vehicles were three hours away and as the journey would require a military escort to be organised, short of a medical emergency, we weren’t going to be making it. Only one other person had a solar kit – a $60 affair off eBay – and that was so ineffective as to be useless. Suddenly I had become a popular guy to know.

We relied on the Voltaic charger. Several Canons, a Fuji, two iPhones and even the quadracopter were all kept alive by the solar charger… [Click to enlarge]

Due to the number of videos I was taking and a lot of use of image stabilisation I was getting through around two of the Canon LP-E6 batteries a day, some of the other serious photogs were too. The iPhone battery also required daily attention and the end-of-day upload to Adobe Lightroom on the Air drained its battery at an unholy rate. A queue formed. The Voltaic charger simply could not keep up with it all. This is in no way a criticism: It is intended vey much as a personal charging solution and we were asking it to keep up with four people each placing a heavy demand upon it. In truth it actually coped better than I expected and the ability of the V72 to output as USB and simultaneously one of 12,16 or 19V really shone; there were a couple of instances where charging the iPhone and a camera battery simultaneously was a real benefit.

It was whilst camped up on the crater of Erta Ale that the provided ‘tie-attachments’ came in useful as they allowed me to cable tie the panel to the wooden branches of the hut I was it. It was unlikely to be stolen, but we were exposed and the wind did pick up every now and then. As my hut backed on to a sheer drop to the old, razor-sharp lava, caldera floor, had the wind decided to get too playful then panel would have met a very quick end.

The provided plastic attachments allowed the panel to be cable-tied to the shack and the cable fed inside via one of the many, many holes. The next nearest source of power was a 4WD somewhere in the distance… [Click to enlarge]

Disaster almost struck. The Canon battery charger provided by Voltaic broke. After disassembling it I discovered that the DC input socket had a snapped solder joint and had lifted the solder tracks off the circuit board. In other words it was definitely not repairable in the field. Had it not been for one of the guys having a USB Canon charger I, and the other Canon users would have been in dire straits. It is worth pointing out that I was not trying to be overly rough with any part of the provided kit, but I was in the field. Things do get knocked about, repeatedly plugged and unplugged otherwise moved and I would expect the elements of the charging kit to withstand this level of abuse. If I am blunt about it, the supplied battery charger is (or rather was) a rather cheap-and-cheerful piece of kit. But to balance that negative, the solar panel and V72 stood up to field work admirably. The V72 may have a few scratches now and a dent or two, but it continues to be rock-solid. The panel itself has a few surface scratches but these have no effect upon its operation. The only let-down is the provided third-party battery charger.

By day three the lack of camera battery charger would have been catastrophic to the shoot and shots like this would have been missed… [Click to enlarge]

After descending from Erta Ale we moved further north to Dalol (or Dallol, depending upon which map you read) and close to the DMZ between Ethiopia and Ertitrea. Here the accommodation improved as we swapped the crude huts with volcanic ash floors and mice for crude beds under the stars. We did have one structure available to use and this doubled as a kitchen and storage area for our bags. It’s roof also server as a convenient high place to mount the panel out of the reach of the local children. Whilst we again had access to the 4WD vehicle as so everyone returned to charging their batteries that way, continuing to use the panel meant that I did not have to wait in line – and took some strain off the vehicles.

Eventually we returned to civilisation and for the last couple of days found ourselves in hotel rooms. Aside from the joy of now actually having toilets and showers, everyone rejoiced in the concept of electricity that came from sockets in the walls! Except me. I had left all my mains chargers back in the UK and so I still relied on the solar kit to provide me with power. In the first hotel $5 bought me access to the roof; in the second there was a rooftop bar.

CONCLUSION

So, the bottom line is whether I can recommend the Voltaic offering or not. The answer is an almost definite yes but I would like to suggest to Voltaic Systems the following changes:

Include a magnetic mounting system for vehicles.
Change, or at least offer an alternative cable to connect the panel to the V72 battery terminating in a 5.5mm DC plug thereby removing the need for an adapter.
Offer a more resilient camera battery charger.

In addition to the suggestions to Voltaic Systems I recommend having a second V72 to hand. I’m not totally sure how keeping two charged would work given that the panel couldn’t charge a single V72 in one day, but heading out to location with two fully charged 20,000mAh batteries certainly would not hurt.

In spite of these suggestions, and even without my modifications, the bottom line is that the kit not only worked, it worked well. Despite being asked to perform far beyond it’s intended use it helped all of us keep power to our cameras and get shots from a location we’ll likely never see again. And since that was the whole point of having a solar charging kit in the first place, I can only say that it was well worth the price of purchase and import costs to the UK, the extra luggage weight and the need for me to modify it. Next time I head out to a location where power will be scarce, it is definitely on my packing list.

UPDATE: 30 JAN 2015

After posting this review Jeff over at Voltaic responded pretty much immediately (which seems to be normal for their customer service) to the points I raised. I’ve then sat on the interesting replies until now (although in my defence I have been busy).

Voltaic now link to an US-based web site that provide off-the-shelf magnets that can be purchased and fit directly to the panel’s threads. For USA customers this is a great solution although I would just point out that (1) shipping to the UK (and presumably anywhere else outside of the US) was prohibitively expensive when I sent Voltaic the link last year, and (2) the magnets have no protection and so may scratch the surface they are attached to.

Not mentioned elsewhere on their site but they have now changed the style of adapter that I was so concerned over losing (as it would prevent solar charging) that I discarded it and soldered on my own connector. Apparently Voltaic now provide an adaptor that clips over the cable coming from the solar panel. If this is anything like the one they already use on the red connecting cable then you’re probably not going to lose it – it needed a serious amount of pulling to detach the cable from the panel.

As for the failed battery charger, right now it seems that they are still being sold and I guess that my experience was not-so-common. Voltaic are interested in alternatives and I’m testing a German-made one right now. But my advice would be to take at least one spare charger – they’re critical yet very lightweight and only a few dollars.

Voltaic have posted highlights of my review on their web site here.

Posted in Travel Also tagged Africa, Danakil Depression, Ethiopia, gear, review |

Ethiopia: Dreaming of a White (and Black and Red) Christmas

Dec

2014

by Dave | 0 Comments

Well, with just twelve days until I leave for Ethiopia and after spending the bulk of yesterday picking and ordering the last of the clothing and equipment, most of the shopping is now complete. All that remains is the medical kit, a plastic funnel for transferring water between containers, some coloured pens and pencils and a few inflatable globes. So with all of that now done I have finally started thinking about the thing that made me want to travel to the remote Danakil Depression in the first place: Landscape photography.

Starting in Addis Ababa we’ll head east to Awash National Park before heading north and entering “No Man’s Land”

It is going to be a packed two weeks as we travel northwards from the capital of Addis Ababa up to the very top of the country and then back again along a loosely counter-clockwise route. As we travel everything will change around us: the landscape, the climate, the wildlife, the people, even the predominant religion will alter as we descend from Addis Ababa at an altitude of 2300 meters to Dallol with an altitude of -130 meters, one of the lowest points on the Earth’s surface.

For me the highlights of the expedition are the three days spent at the Erta Ale shield volcano and the time spent at Dallol. There are many descriptions of Dallol but Wikipedia probably best describes it:

Dallol features an extreme version of hot desert climate (Köppen climate classification BWh) typical of the Danakil Desert. Dallol is the hottest place year-round on the planet and currently holds the record high average temperature for an inhabited location on Earth, where an average annual temperature of 34.5 °C (94.1 °F) was recorded between the years 1960 and 1966. The annual average high temperature is 41 °C (105 °F) and the hottest month has an average high of 46.7 °C (116.1 °F). Dallol is also one of the most remote places on Earth. In addition to be extremely hot, the climate of the lowlands of the Danakil Depression is also extremely dry and hyper-arid in terms of annual average rainy days as only a few days record measurable precipitation. The hot desert climate of Dallol is particular due to the proximity with the equator, the very low seasonality impact, the constance of the heat and the lack of efficient nighttime cooling.

For someone who is as fond of cold weather climates as I am, it will be interesting to see how well I cope with such opposite conditions. The temperature will be further exacerbated by the heat coming off the lava lake at Erte Ale whose surface temperature is a mere 1200 °C

Whilst we spend three days at Erta Ale it is, for all intents and purposes, a single environment. At an altitude of 600 metres there is little else other than the lava lake itself and the black balsaltic lava ground. Getting a good series of photographs here is likely to be as much luck as skill as we will be at the mercy of just how active the volcano is at the time, but I have a series of photographs in my head that I want to try and capture in the limited colour palette of volcanic black and lava red.

Once we descend from Erta Ale and head towards Dallol the pace will pick up dramatically and photography is going to be more of a challenge as the area offers several different landscapes with only approximately two days to capture something decent. One of the big landscapes is a salt flat much like the Salar de Uyuni in Bolivia although much smaller at only approximately 200 square kilometres. Here I’ll hopefully have a number of opportunities – from the wide vistas of the salt flats themselves to the Afar miners who extract the salt with picks, to the camel trains that take the salt to market. I may even get a chance to try my hand at salt mining in what can only be described as intensely harsh conditions.

The Salar de Uyuni salt flat in Bolivia. A similar white Christmas awaits me in Ethiopia.

The volcanic area of Dallol is a sight that still causes me wonder at just how such a place can exist. It is a landscape that would look at home in an old science fiction movie where they have pumped the colours to the maximum and day-glo blues, greens, pinks and yellows all mix together. Lighting here will be a key factor – it has to be right first time as there will be no chance for a revisit.

Another thing that I want to try whilst in the Afar region, and particularly the Danakil Depression itself, is astrophotography. It is not a style of photography I have any experience of and involves its own set of rules and techniques that I know very little about. But the one thing that every astrophotography web site and blog I have visited agree upon is that astrophotography works best when there is no light pollution to obscure the incredibly faint light from distant stars.

Yellow is light pollution and blue is darkness: Jazan on the top border is typical of towns and cities. In the northwest of Ethiopia we’ll have no problems with light. The only light sources are from lava.

Yellow is light pollution and blue is darkness: Jazan on the top border is typical of towns and cities. In the northeast of Ethiopia we’ll have no problems with light. The only light sources are from lava.

Looking at the above image from blue-marble.de – a web site that shows satellite imagery of light pollution across the planet – it is easy to see why the one thing I can guarantee is that – in what Wikipedia and National Geographic call one of the most remote places on Earth – light pollution will not be a problem.

So I have given myself a crash course in astrophotography which in turn has led to having to learn the basics of how to locate and identify the constellations and navigation by the stars. I am hopelessly under-prepared but there is not much I can do now other than make use of the location and hope that what little I have learned will help me produce something I like. Unfortunately however, whilst I would love to take a photograph showing the Milky Way galaxy in the night sky, I believe I’ll be there at the wrong time of year. On the plus side however, to capture some really rich star field images, even the moon can be a problem and most recommendations suggest shooting on nights leading up to and immediately after a new moon. As I start the expedition on the 21st December – the day of the new moon, I’ll have ideal conditions to shoot the night sky – assuming it is not cloudy, that is.

Posted in Destinations, Trip Planning Also tagged Danakil Depression, Ethiopia, Landscape, trip planning |

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Ethiopia: Dreaming of a White (and Black and Red) Christmas

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