Blog #8 - Portugal, Photographs, and Plenty of Lessons

I didn’t post a blog last week, and for once, it wasn’t because I got distracted by a vintage lens rabbit hole or forgot what day it was. It was because we were on our family holiday to Portugal, me, Emma, Bow, and my parents, and for the first time in ages, I actually let myself take a proper break. Well, as much of a break as you can take when you’ve got a camera strap permanently round your neck and a stuffed Baby Yoda (Yes I know its name is Grogu) riding shotgun in every beach bag.

We stayed in Armação de Pêra, a fairly laid-back spot on the southern coast that felt just busy enough to entertain Bow but without tipping into full-blown Benidorm-esque chaos. The resort was all-inclusive, so we were well fed and watered, and there was a good balance of downtime and little adventures. It gave me a proper chance to just enjoy being away with the family. And now that we’re back, I’ve been reflecting, not just on the photos, but the whole experience.

Film Waits and the Case for Doing It Yourself

Before I even get into talking about the trip itself, I’m still waiting on two rolls of 120 film from the lab. It’s been nearly two weeks now, which I know isn’t unheard of, but it still tests your patience. One roll was from the Zeiss Ikon 6x6 bellows camera, and the other was from the Voigtländer TLR I wrote about in a previous blog, the one I’d spent time cleaning up and fiddling with, convinced I’d got it working again. I’m hoping I’ve done enough, but I won’t know until I see those scans. That’s the beauty and the curse of film. You never know whether you nailed it or wasted a tenner until someone else emails you a Dropbox link.

Delays like this always stir up that itch to start home developing. I’ve read plenty, watched all the tutorials, priced up the chemicals and gear. At one point I even tried to convince myself we had a “dedicated sink area,” which we don’t. There’s a utility corner at best, shared by Bow’s art supplies and a leaky mop bucket. Still, I’ve been tempted. But every time I get close, there’s a quiet voice, Emma, who asks, quite reasonably, “And where exactly are you going to pour chemicals without wrecking the house?” It’s a fair question. So for now, I wait.

The Culling: From 2,000 to 150, and Why It Hurts

Once we were back, and the sand had been shaken out of every shoe, sock, and SD card slot, I finally sat down to sort through the digital images. I took just over 2,000 shots over the week. That sounds excessive, and it probably is, but with photography I’ve learned that shooting a lot doesn’t guarantee quality. It just guarantees more disappointment to wade through.

The culling process is always a bit brutal. At first, you go through quickly, deleting the obvious throwaways. Blinks, blurs, unintentional Dutch angles. Then you go slower. You start second-guessing yourself. You remember taking a shot and thinking it looked amazing on the screen, but now it looks cluttered or flat or oddly cropped. You zoom in to check sharpness, only to realise you missed focus by a hair. You click through five near-identical frames of the same moment, unsure which one feels right, before deleting all of them out of frustration.

It's sobering because it forces you to confront your bad habits in bulk. Forgetting to check the background, overexposing in bright conditions, relying too much on the EVF instead of your instincts. You start to notice patterns. My composition slips when I rush. I ignore the corners of my frame. I keep shooting just after the moment has peaked rather than during it. I sat with a cup of tea and got ruthless. By the end, I was down to about 150 images that I’d consider showing anyone. And even then, that number felt generous.

Albufeira

Lens Choices and Mixed Results

I brought a few lenses with me, but the one that stayed on the camera most was the 24–270mm. It’s convenient and versatile, and in theory perfect for a trip like this where you’re juggling landscapes, street shots, zoo animals, and whatever Bow decides is important enough to photograph. Usually bins or seagulls.

But the results didn’t quite land. The lens is fine, but the photos felt generic. The kind of shots you might see on a stock site under "holiday in Europe." I think the light played a big part. Portugal was bright, more than I’m used to. Proper high sun, harsh shadows, reflective stone everywhere. I’ve mostly shot in softer UK conditions or during golden hour, and this was a different beast. I had ND filters with me, even a polariser, but I didn’t use them enough. Mostly I was moving quickly, or just plain forgot. A lot of the shots ended up looking washed out or just not what I hoped for.

I also brought the 85mm f/1.4, and it delivered probably the best results of the trip. Sharp, clean, beautifully compressed backgrounds, especially in the softer evening light. But nearly all those shots were of Bow, and we keep those private. Which is a shame from a sharing point of view, but it was a quiet reminder that some of the best photography is just for us, and that’s okay.

85mm prime

Street Photography, Ethics, and a €10 Hat

I tried to do some street photography too, mostly in Albufeira. It’s a lively, sometimes chaotic place. Families, tourists, locals, buskers, shopkeepers, all moving through the same narrow streets. One man in particular caught my eye. He was sitting still just off the main road, dressed plainly, legs crossed, a hat laid out in front of him. I took a few discreet shots, quick, handheld, nothing flashy.

Later, talking to my mum, I mentioned that out of the thousands of people we saw that day, he was the most interesting. The tourists all start to blur into one. Sun hats, matching shirts, novelty bags. But this man had presence. And I couldn’t stop thinking about the ethics of photographing him. Technically, yes, under EU law, you can take photographs in public places. But legality doesn’t always equal morality. I wasn’t mocking or exploiting, but still, I questioned it.

I ended up going back and dropping a €10 note into his hat. It didn’t erase the discomfort, but it felt like the right thing to do in that moment. Photography makes you think sometimes. Not just about composition, but about people, intention, and power. And maybe that’s a good thing.

My favourite photo of that day, but with the above mentioned ethical dilemmas.

Tropical Plants and ACAB Walls

Closer to the resort, there was one shot I still can’t believe I found. Along the edge of our hotel’s manicured garden, a neat row of palms, flowerbeds, and decorative rocks, was a massive 4x2 metre graffiti tag on the opposite wall: ACAB. For those unfamiliar, that stands for "All Cops Are Bastards," a phrase often seen in protest graffiti, usually tied to anti-authoritarian or anarchist messages.

I’ve never seen it so prominently or so repeatedly as I did in Portugal. It was everywhere. On bins, on bus shelters, etched into benches. But this wall was something else. A giant ACAB scrawl in black spray paint staring straight at the sun loungers and cocktail menus. The contrast was jarring. Carefully tended tropical plants in the hotel garden in front, and this bold piece of protest graffiti right behind.

Now, I say this as someone who used to be a police officer. I’ve been on that side of things. And honestly, I find the whole ACAB slogan a bit ridiculous. It’s a sweeping, lazy generalisation that doesn't reflect reality, and I can’t help but think the people who are quickest to scrawl it on a wall or shout it in a crowd are probably the same ones who’d still call 999 the moment something goes wrong. That contradiction always sticks out to me. But photography-wise, the shot worked. Tension, contrast, irony. It told a story, whether you agreed with the message or not.

ACAB apparently.

Adventures by Boat and the Osmo Saves the Day

We also did a speedboat tour of the caves and algars. Just me, Bow, and Dad. Emma and Mum opted out. The boat wasn’t docked. You had to walk into the sea and climb on, which instantly ruled out taking the Sony. Instead, I brought the Osmo Action 5 Pro. It shoots RAW, is waterproof, windproof, small enough to clip to a bag strap. Perfect for this kind of thing.

And honestly, I was impressed with the results. Yes, it’s a small sensor. Yes, you don’t get the same kind of depth and detail. But when you're bouncing across the Atlantic spray with a four-year-old on your lap and your dad beside you, you’re not thinking about bokeh. You’re thinking about keeping the camera from flying into the sea and not missing the shot.

I got some great images. Rock arches, sunlit water, Bow waving at seagulls. Not portfolio work, but memories captured well. And that’s enough. Dad didn’t say much, but I think he really enjoyed it. He’s 68 now, and I’m glad we got to share that moment together. Just us and Bow, bouncing across the water, making a memory.

Benagil Caves, taken on the Osmo Action 5 Pro

Sony Scares and SD Card Chaos

Of course, no trip would be complete without something going wrong. Toward the end of the holiday, the Sony A7III started acting up. I turned it on and the screen was just black. Not off, just nothing showing. I figured it was a dead battery, swapped it out, same issue. Took the battery out and back in again, and it fired up. Crisis over, or so I thought.

Later I realised none of the photos from that session had saved to the SD cards. Cue panic. I swapped out both cards, reformatted, and things seemed to go back to normal. But it was a bit of a scare. I’ve never had that happen before. It’s made me appreciate those dual card slots even more. And it’s reminded me to carry more than one set of good quality SD cards, not just whatever was cheapest last Black Friday.

A Gifted Fujica and a Roll of Kodak

Lastly, I brought along my dad’s Fujica ST901. He’d tried to get it going again after more than 25 years and eventually handed it over to me. The repair shop said the electronics were fried, but manual mode still worked fine. My dad used to shoot on it back in the day, mostly on auto, so he wasn’t keen to mess about with f-stops and shutter speeds now.

I loaded a roll of Kodak Gold 200 and told him we’d shoot a few frames together, maybe do a mini photo walk. But he didn’t really take to it. Old muscle memory maybe, or maybe photography just means something different to him now. I took a few frames anyway. Portraits, a few street bits, and a quick mirror selfie with the Fujica in hand. I’m curious to see how it turns out.

Final Thoughts

So, a mixed bag. Some wins, some losses, some hard lessons in light management and lens limitations. I came home a little frustrated with the results, if I’m honest. But also glad I took the shots, tried new things, and captured moments I know I’ll come back to.

Photography on holiday is a weird mix of wanting to document and trying not to miss the actual experience. You want the memories, but you don’t want to see everything through a viewfinder. I definitely swung too far into document mode at times and not enough into observe. But that’s something I’m working on.

And as always, Bow was the highlight of every day, whether I had a camera in my hand or not.