Butane and Mosquitos...

15th July 2010
Why are mosquitoes? I've often asked - but never more so than one evening last week when I was sitting amongst the reeds on the bank of the River Thurne in the Norfolk Broads. The camera was all set up and ready, the sunset was coming along nicely with lots of colour, little white puffies were skipping about in the sky quite happily and a cup of recently brewed coffee was warming my hands when a sound like South Africa's infernal vuvuzelas spoilt the whole deal. Mosquitoes. Swarms of them. I've always maintained that if theres only one mosquito in the county it'll make a beeline for me, so you can imagine the carnage that ensued that evening. If you did a dot-to-dot drawing on my arms you could come up with a detailed street map of Manchester. I hate them - and its not like they're actually good for anything.
I've bitten the bullet and am trying out the stay-away-from-home-and-do-photography approach. The family had a hearty chuckle when I managed to snag a new tent and some outside gear very cheaply from a Millets closing down sale and declared that I was off to the Great Outdoors. So to prove a point I'm on a campsite in Norfolk, up at 3am and away to exotic locations before the sun comes up and, oddly enough, thoroughly enjoying myself. The little cooking stove sits in the car when I go, along with everything else as tents are not the most secure places to live, so coffee and tea are in plentiful supply when I'm waiting for the sun to kick in. The camp site boasts a swimming pool, its own pub/restaurant and full English breakfasts, so its not like I'm roughing it too much. As for the results, well you can judge for yourself in the Norfolk Gallery. The only tricky decision is where to go next...

Cheers, Graham

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