As per my last article, I have taken the decision to step away from the gear treadmill and focus on photography again. So what will that entail?

Well, I’ll still be publishing to the website regularly but it will be as someone getting out and discovering life here on the edge of the Scottish Highlands with my camera. I’ll be posting more photos, updates on the projects that I’m working on, talking more about the art of photography , my workflow, challenges and more. Basically, the entire journey.

Once Sofia is back at school next week, I will commit to producing more Youtube videos alongside this website. The videos will not be about gear, will not be tutorials but will simply be quiet videos amongst the beautiful scenery and landscape here in Scotland while I am out photographing work for my projects.

As for this week, I’ve been minimising my time connected to the internet and just focusing on being in the garden, on walks with Sofia and just getting on with simple tasks at home. More and more I find that I long for less time online as it seems to largely have a negative impact on my state of mind.

I’ve been out with my camera too, again, just on some local walks and spending time with Sofia. Since Izzy left, I’ve found myself gravitating towards black and white photography much more, whether that’s an aesthetic choice or simply a reflection of the darkness I’ve felt since she left, I’ll leave that for those smarter than me to decide and instead leave you with some images that I took this week.

The reality is that this website and writing gear articles has allowed me to continue with—and in fact has motivated me to get out and explore—my passion for photography again. After years of thinking it was a distant pipedream that a father of two girls couldn’t possibly pursue (“the income isn’t there, it’s too risky, I should face facts that my time to dream has passed and just get a job”), I kept going.

The problem is that I don’t just like taking photos. It’s rooted deep within me to question the world, what’s happening, to ask questions and find answers, and photography is my way of doing that. So I can’t just shake it off. I can’t brush it under the carpet and simply get a job.

But here’s the issue: I love sharing what I know with others in the hope that it may help someone on a similar path discover their passion for photography. I have 20 years of mistakes that I can call on and share so that perhaps it can stop the next photographer from making those same mistakes.

However, I am, ultimately, anti-consumerist.

As I approach 45 years old, I look around at the world and I hold a certain level of disillusionment for the materialistic, self-indulgent culture that we seem to have created around us. Us photographers have always been somewhat geeky, outside the norm. I still remember my college photography lecturer being nicknamed by students and teachers alike ‘Darkroom Dave’, with its slightly sinister connotations.

But since the advent of smartphones, Instagram, and social media, photography has become hip, cool, and popular. Usually, though, the camera is pointed in the opposite direction to how I learned. My face is too tired, currently too hairy, and too self-deprecating to think that 1,000 selfies of me in different locations would interest anyone other than a psychiatrist.

The flipside to that is this has vastly increased the popularity of gear, as a flow of phone photographers look to move up to proper cameras to improve their photos. Which is great. But actually, as I’ve looked more and more into it, it’s not photography that has become popular so much as being seen in the performance of photography. Having the right camera, image, and being seen in the right place is still a thing. I am in no position to criticise it or think I’m above it, but I don’t enjoy it, and I don’t want to be part of it.

As someone who is naturally introverted, with a preference for eating camping food over Michelin-star cuisine, drawing attention to myself is not something that comes naturally. Even in my family albums, I notice that I’m often missing because I’m behind the camera—exactly where I’d prefer to be. I’m not shy, and I’m not socially awkward; I’ve just got to the age where I am very selective about who and what I spend my time on. And time is the one thing that I simply can’t make more of.

That’s why, over the coming months and years, I will be transitioning the website to be much more photography-focused. I will be getting out with my camera as I did all those years ago in the Outer Hebrides and simply being a photographer again, not a reviewer.

The Gear and How it Came to be

Because of this realisation about where I want to head, I’ve been looking at my bloated shelf full of gear, all picked for a purpose, yet somewhere along the way, the financial pressure to provide for everyone meant losing sight of that purpose. This website started out as a way to record my thoughts about gear and share them—starting at a time when I had stopped earning my living from selling landscape photography (somewhere around 2013-14) and felt somewhat lost, but knew I wanted to still have a camera in my hand.

Over the next decade, I occasionally added an article, but it slowly faded. Then, last year, I got a notification that the website had been hacked. It was riddled with malware, and GoDaddy wouldn’t help, demanding I pay to fix it. I had to make a decision: let this old friend of a website take its natural course and die, or actually do something with it.

I chose the latter. And since June 2025 until now, it’s grown beyond what I thought possible. I’m genuinely grateful that so many of you took the time to read my articles, opinions, and personal story along the way. Some of the comments and emails that I have received in the last year have genuinely restored my faith in humanity.

But this is not what I dreamt of the website becoming: talking endlessly about gear, being at the mercy of Google and trends, and part of the marketing machine (even if honestly and unwillingly) that in the rest of my life, I am trying to move away from. I don’t believe in endless gear upgrades. I don’t believe in covering every single camera or lens release just for content. To continue this website and keep it competitive and actually earning money in that way would require me to do exactly that, and it would be disingenuous.

So how did I end up with so much gear? Well, if I’m brutally honest it was a combination of factors. I still dreamt of being a photographer again but was stuck in a job I hated simply to pay the bills and fund my children. Every next camera purchase would be the one that got me out, made the difference, made me finally realise my dream. Secondly, I will be honest and say that the last decade has personally been very difficult for reasons I wont go in to here but I guess I was still looking for something in life, happiness is the crux of it. Like many people, I got a short burst of happiness when I added another camera or lens to the collection.

When I re-started this website, I found myself in the position of having so much gear it was enough to create years worth of reviews, comparisons and the like. And as it started to become sucessful, It became self fulfilling. I could now justify yet another camera purchase as it was for the website. But this last 3 months changed everything, I want to step off the gear hamster wheel for the final time.

The amount of gear I have sitting next to me right now not only clutters my room, it clutters my mind. Instead of thinking about what I want to photograph today, I’m left thinking about what camera and lens to choose or what part of the site needs new content. That combined with deeply stressful family issues has left me very low on inspiration, creative energy and motivation for the last 3 months.

The move to Scotland started out incredibly positively, I was motivated, excited and content. It slowly became a nightmare but I am determined to resurect the initial feelings because I know I am so fortunate to be living in a place of such natural beauty, to have Sofia (my eldest duaghter) with me, thriving with a great future ahead of her. It’s just going to take a while for this numb, flat feeling to leave me after Izzy (my youngest daughter) left. Clearing out my gear, focusing on what I actually want and enjoy, and using what I do have to the fullest is part of that process.

I genuinely believe we have reached the stage—or at least I have—where I could pick any of my system cameras and use them for the next 10 years and be perfectly happy with the results, as long as I simply ignore the constant upgrade/release cycle.

Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate a good camera as much as the next photographer. But I want to use my camera to create, to get out and see, to capture life’s moments, places, and meaning in my photos. And so, that is what I plan to do, and that’s the direction this website (and my personal one) will be heading.

Less gear, more photography.

So in the last month or so, I’ve been looking to cull my now extensive gear collection down to what I actually need and enjoy using. Bearing in mind I’m now living in Scotland, the weather is unpredictable (well, we’re sure of lots of rain), and I hike in the mountains, glens, and rivers a lot. My passion is for nature photography, with interesting people and stories too.

I’ve made my final decision as to which gear I am going to keep: just two systems, both ideal for the type of photography and environment here.

I’m often asked which camera I would choose if I could only have one, and the answer is always the same: the Nikon Z8, which I’m pairing with the Z6III.

For times when I want to be more discreet, carry less, yet still shoot with something very capable and a joy to use, I’m keeping the camera system that I’ve never been able to quite shake—the one that nags at me if I don’t own it: OM System, with the OM-1 Mark II and OM-3.

The rest will be leaving next week, off to MPB, and a new chapter for me and this website will start. I’ll still occasionally talk about gear, but it will be after serious use and won’t be as frequent, because I’ll actually be out shooting for projects and for a living.

I’ve spent a lot of time trying to see if this is even viable in this day and age of AI creation, but ultimately, if I don’t try, then I will never know.

So how do I plan to do this?

Well, firstly by being me. Now, people who know me may advise against that, but I think genuinely being yourself, documenting your process, your progress, and your struggles is infinitely more interesting than projecting perfection. Through a combination of articles on this website, YouTube videos focusing on the experience out in the field here in Scotland (once Sofia is back at school after her summer holidays), and my personal website showcasing the images that I make, I hope that some of you will come along for whatever the next chapter in my life has in store for me.

Last week, I wrote about dealing with a creative rut—something most creatives have to deal with at some point or another. In that piece, I touched on how using smaller cameras often helps me push through those stagnant patches. They act as a mental crutch to relieve self-induced pressure, encourage me to simply get outside, and offer a vast array of computational modes to make experimenting with photography much easier.

This weekend gave me a chance to put that exact philosophy into practice, using the OM System OM-1 Mark II on a routine evening walk.

Low-Friction Wandering

Right next to where we live in Perthshire, we’ve gotten into a wonderful habit of taking our elderly neighbours’ dogs out. It’s a beautiful little walk on the local country estate, it helps out people who can no longer take their dogs for anything more than a quick toilet break outside, and it provides a completely low-friction way for me to get out with a camera.

This time, I decided to pair the OM-1 Mark II with the OM System 25mm f/1.2 PRO lens. When I am in a creative rut, using a zoom lens gives me far too many options and quickly overwhelms my brain. The simplicity of a prime—and specifically one of my all-time favourites across any system—was designed to remove that friction and get my creative juices flowing. I keep my setup as simple as possible and only add a few essential accessories which I went through in another article.

It was early evening with the sun dropping low in the sky. As we picked up Teddy and Poppy, my mum and my eldest daughter Sofia took the dogs ahead, while I wandered slowly down the estate’s path with the camera in hand.

Working the Path

As patches of light began breaking through the huge Scots pine trees lining either side of the path, I raised the camera and fired off a few test frames. A few observations immediately stood out:

• Speed & Computational Power: I played around with the OM-1 Mark II’s handheld High-Res mode, which is dramatically more usable than on the Mark I thanks to its much faster processing speeds.
• Depth & Sharpness: Thanks to the Micro Four Thirds sensor naturally yielding a deeper depth of field for a given aperture, I was happy shooting anywhere from wide-open at f/1.2 down to f/5.6, consistently getting tack-sharp photos with plenty of depth.
• Ergonomics & Viewfinder: The camera is exceptionally quick to operate and comfortable in my hands. In the high-contrast, bright patches of the evening, the 5.6-million-dot viewfinder made composition effortless.
• IBIS Confidence: In the dimmer sections of the path sandwiched between towering trees, I reminded myself of the camera’s brilliant image stabilization. It allowed me to consciously drop the ISO to base level, shooting at slow shutter speeds that would be impossible on most other systems.

I didn’t get any keepers along that initial stretch of the path, but the strict constraints of the prime lens combined with the lightweight, intuitive nature of the OM-1 Mark II did their job. I started feeling comfortable enough to actually look and see potential images again.

The Shot Through the Trees

As we walked further in, the path opened up to fields on both sides—tonight filled with sheep and their rather large lambs bleating away after some had been separated to have their coats sheared. The light was now raking across the landscape beautifully.

That’s when I spotted a stunning view: looking through the last couple of trees out to the fields beyond, with evening light casting long shadows, the hazy mountains of the lower Scottish Highlands in the distance, and crepuscular rays piercing through the sky.

I set up the composition to create a sense of depth, using the closest trees to frame the shot and create the feeling of peering through to witness the landscape beyond. Deciding this view was worthy of the camera’s High-Res mode, I grabbed a handheld 50-megapixel file before hurrying along to catch up with Sofia, Mum, and the dogs.

Walking toward the lake, I felt a little lighter than I have lately. The fresh air, gorgeous light, and seeing Sofia in good spirits playing with Poppy and Teddy were the perfect antidote to the stress occupying my mind. We sat for a little while to enjoy the warm evening and give the dogs a few treats before heading back up the path, returning the dogs, and heading home.

Bringing It Together in Lightroom

Back at home, I uploaded the photos to my iPad—which has become my preferred editing tool, as the Apple Pencil makes working in Lightroom incredibly intuitive. I waited until the next day to look through them.

Most were average at best, but one stood out: the shot through the trees.

It wasn’t quite right straight out of the camera. I cropped it into a 16:9 aspect ratio to remove a fence at the bottom of the image. The fence added nothing; in fact, it acted as a visual barrier, stopping you from immersing yourself in the scene.

Interestingly, I had been shooting the previous night almost exclusively in black and white—largely because I’ve been so impressed with the OM-3’s monochrome output and wanted to keep things simple. While the black-and-white SOOC jpeg was genuinely lovely with great contrast and atmosphere, the warm colors of the evening demanded a color edit using the parallel RAW file.

To get it looking how the landscape actually felt:

• I gently reduced the saturation of the green channel (as OM System files can sometimes make greens a bit too garish for my taste).
• I slightly increased the orange channel and generally warmed the image up.
• I pulled down the highlights in the sky to reveal subtle detail without killing the scene’s brightness.
• I used local masks for dodging and burning to build contrast in the foreground and deepen the sense of spatial depth.

I am genuinely happy with the result. It’s the first photo in a while that made me wish I had a printer set up. (My Canon PRO-4100 was one of the casualties of our move back from the Philippines, but if I ever get another large-format printer, this on a fine cotton rag paper will look fantastic.)

Seeing Light at the End of the Tunnel

The OM-1 Mark II didn’t just help me capture a shot I felt good about; it helped me push through a creative rut by removing friction from the process.

I could easily have sat at home, letting the recent dark clouds completely take over. But by stripping away complexity, getting outside, and observing the world again with a camera that doesn’t demand a fight, I finally found some light at the end of the tunnel.

Tonight, Sofia and I are travelling 2 hours to go and view some puppies, as she has been longing for a little furry friend for some time now. If we end up bringing one home with us soon, he or she will be coming out on a lot of adventures with us, and no doubt, will inspire me to continue getting outside and taking more photos.

Since October of last year, her well-being has dominated a huge part of my mind. We worried she showed signs of autism—there, I said it, I’m no longer skirting around it with vagueries like developmental concerns. That was our worry. The signs were all there, so we planned to move back to the UK where the healthcare and support networks are in place for children like Izzy. We sold all our belongings, I spent all my savings, and we moved halfway around the world.

I then spent the next several months setting up doctor appointments, health visitor assessments, and audiology assessments, and pushing my finances to the limit paying for a nursery placement to ensure Izzy got the structure that all the professionals—and my own sister, who has worked in childcare for over 25 years—said was essential.

Slowly, we started to see improvements: less tantrums, more interaction, more confidence. All that effort, all that sacrifice, and ultimately, it has been futile for reasons I can’t go into here.

So, in the last two weeks, I’ve really been struggling to produce any content for the website, or even pick up a camera with any meaning or intention. I’ll just be honest: I feel pretty flat and numb. Sofia is still here with me, and I know that I need to work, so after multiple attempts to get out with various cameras, I turned to the ones I often do when I hit creative ruts.

The Small-Camera Crutch

You see, it’s the smaller cameras—the ones that aren’t meant to be professional-level gear—that I tend to turn to when I want to remove all pressure to produce images of any note. My OM-3 is the epitome of this: it’s beautiful, small, lightweight, and still highly capable, but I can give myself the excuse that if I don’t produce anything decent, it wasn’t me, it’s partly the camera.

I know for a fact it is absolutely not the camera, but it’s a small mental crutch that often alleviates any sense of pressure and allows me to break out of creative ruts. It works either by simply relieving my own self-inflicted pressure to perform, or by having features like computational modes that spur me on to try shots I otherwise wouldn’t with heavier systems.

This week, I’ve been out with a camera several times. On Monday, I managed to get one shot that I had the confidence in to publish in my OM-3 and Nikon Zf article comparing the black-and-white modes.

Then on Wednesday, I went out with that same mindset for a walk in a beautiful location with my mum and the OM-1 Mark II: just enjoy the walk, the scenery, and the fresh air, and if you get any shots, great.

I failed miserably.

I had the 12-40mm f/2.8 II lens mounted—a good lens, still lightweight, so easy to carry. I was actively looking for shots, playing with the built-in ND filter mode, and yet, when I came home and looked at the photos, I honestly thought: I’m not publishing those, they’re rubbish.

Sitting Under the Dark Cloud

It’s now Friday, and unfortunately, my brain has completely failed me—not only in producing any photos, but even in thinking of a topic I can muster the interest to write about. A pretty heavy dark cloud is currently sitting over me in terms of inspiration and motivation to get out and work.

But I’m not going to let that stop me.

After years of pretty consistent stress, maybe I just need a bit of time to process everything, get used to the new circumstances, and let the creative process and inspiration slowly come back to me. If I keep getting out there, keep taking a camera through habit, and just keep looking, seeing, and pressing the shutter button, it will return.

Why am I writing this article now? Because it’s the most honest thing that I have to say right now. Out there, maybe some of you also deal with creative ruts, and perhaps by sharing this, it will help someone push through just as I have done in the past.

This one may take a bit more effort to come out the other side of, but I will. And when I do, I’ll be waiting here in Scotland, with Sofia, building something safe, secure, and welcoming for the day that Izzy returns.

And here are some of the photos I took this week. I guess it’s good to show them just to fight against the perfection we see projected everywhere these days. Failing is part of succeeding, and I definitely failed this week.

Update: I’m still trying to push through this period and got an image that I was happy with in a recent article.

Then I check my bank balance, look at Sofia on her Summer break and realise that for me and likely a lot of other photographers, these epic locations are beyond our reach, our budget and our time constraints.

In all honesty, I no longer feel the pull of these Instagram worthy locations. I feel that they’re overdone, overshot and overcrowded. By staying close to home, I gain something that no amount of travel can give me: familiarity, repeatability, and consistency.

I’m fortunate that I’ve travelled quite a lot in my life and perhaps that is partly why I get a much warmer, more comfortable feeling from staying near to home. Perhaps that’s why I appreciate the Scottish countryside so much and find beauty everywhere I look here.

Even if you haven’t travelled much, I’d still argue that some of the best photos that you could make are sat waiting, right on your doorstep. Maybe it’s a local park, woodland or river, perhaps it’s the daily goings on in your particular street, the development in your local town. Whatever it is, the fact that you can access it repeatedly gives you a huge advantage and a perspective that no visitor to your area will ever be able to recreate. It’s unique to you and your location and it gives you the opportunity to make photos that say something about a place, over time—something that can’t be captured from a week’s ‘epic trip’ and some one-off ‘banger’ shots.

But Summertime is a bad time of year for photography, isn’t it?

I tend to agree that Summertime doesn’t always offer the best light. A lot of the day consists of harsh, direct sun that can create high-contrast or washed-out scenes. Sunrises are early and sunsets, particularly here in Scotland, are well beyond my bedtime. But that doesn’t mean we should skip it altogether.

There are some simple ways to still get out and make photos, even in summer. Basic ideas such as trying to photograph in the shade, doing macro photography, or focusing on small details are often heard for good reason—they allow you to work within a small area where the light isn’t at its harshest. You could take up photographing birds and wildlife as they’re busy fattening themselves and their offspring up to prepare for winter.

However, all of these suggestions require a change in subject matter which you may not wish to pursue.

For me, I’m not going to suddenly become obsessed with macro photography for one season; it doesn’t evolve my photography and the work doesn’t fit with the projects I’m working on. Instead, I find ways to incorporate the harsh light of summer into my photos, using the various tools we have as photographers to make the light and the scene work. If you can master the techniques we practise all year round and combine them with a mindset of just getting out and shooting, there are still great photos to be made, whatever the season and whatever the light.

I talk more about my process for creating photos with atmosphere in any light over on my personal site—you can read the full breakdown in The Architecture of Atmosphere: How I Construct an Image.

But more than that, I’ve found myself thinking about what photography actually means to me.

It may sound a little self-indulgent, but bear with me.

Google’s latest update has just shaved roughly 40% off my traffic and, in turn, a significant chunk of my income almost overnight. It’s reminded me just how fragile a website can be when so much depends on decisions made by a company on the other side of the world.

More importantly, it’s forced me to stop and think.

Not just about traffic.

Not just about income.

But about what I actually want from photography.

Where do I see myself in ten years?

What kind of photographer do I want to become?

How do I balance the desire to create meaningful work with the responsibility of paying the bills and giving my daughters the life I want for them?

Those aren’t easy questions to answer.

And if I’m honest, I’m not entirely sure I’ve found the answers yet.

The answer used to be much simpler.

I started photography because I enjoyed it.

Then it became a creative outlet.

Then it became a career.

Then it became a way of preserving memories.

Today it’s all of those things at once, and if I’m honest, those different reasons don’t always sit comfortably together.

Part of me wants to spend my time exploring emotions, thoughts and places through photography. To work on projects like Witness, The Land and As We Grow. To make photographs that say something about how I see the world and what matters to me.

But the reality is that photography is also how I pay my bills.

Photography isn’t just my passion. It’s also my business.

And that creates a tension that I suspect many photographers understand but don’t often talk about.

Because if I could choose purely with my heart, I’d spend more time thinking about ideas.

I’d spend more time making photographs.

I’d spend more time exploring the things I find meaningful.

The problem, of course, is that meaningful work doesn’t automatically pay the nursery fees or Sofia’s horse-riding lessons.

And if I’m completely honest, money isn’t the only thing holding me back.

Like a lot of creative people, I carry around an enormous amount of self-doubt.

Is my photography actually good enough?

Do people care enough to follow along?

Is there really an audience for the kind of work I want to create?

I’m quite a boring person, at least in the way the internet seems to value people these days.

I enjoy peace and quiet.

I enjoy walking in nature.

Nothing about my life really screams for attention.

In social situations I’m usually the person happy to let someone else lead the conversation. Not because I’m shy or socially awkward, but because I’ve never been particularly comfortable being the centre of attention.

Which makes the whole idea of inviting people to follow my journey feel slightly absurd.

Why would anyone want to watch my videos, read my essays or follow my projects?

I’m not travelling to exotic destinations every week.

I’m not climbing mountains.

I’m not chasing dramatic adventures.

Most days I’m simply walking through the countryside with a camera, watching wildlife, observing the landscape and trying to make sense of the world around me.

And yet, despite all of those doubts, there is another part of me that feels increasingly drawn in that direction.

Not towards fame.

Not towards followers.

Not towards another camera.

But towards work that feels meaningful.

The problem is that I don’t yet know whether meaningful work and financial security can coexist.

A few weeks ago I thought I was building something reasonably secure. Not wealthy. Not extravagant. Just a business that would allow me to support my family, pay my way in life and slowly build a better future for Sofia and Isabelle.

Then, almost overnight, 40% of my traffic disappeared.

The bills didn’t fall by 40%.

The nursery fees didn’t fall by 40%.

The responsibilities didn’t fall by 40%.

That’s the reality of building a life around something you don’t fully control.

And when you’re responsible for children, those worries become very real.

A large proportion of my income currently goes towards nursery fees for Isabelle.

Not because childcare is convenient.

Not because it’s what everyone does.

Because I genuinely believe it is important for her development and long-term outcome.

In fact, concerns about Isabelle’s development were one of the main reasons I sold virtually everything I owned in the Philippines and moved back to the UK.

It wasn’t a decision I took lightly.

It meant leaving behind a life we’d spent years building, but I believed it gave her the best possible chance of accessing the support, education and opportunities she might need.

So when I pay those nursery fees each month, I don’t really see them as optional, they’re essential.

At the same time, I’m trying to navigate a difficult relationship between Sofia and her mother.

I’m trying to make the right decisions for two children.

I’m trying to build a stable future.

And like most parents, I spend a fair amount of time wondering whether I’m getting any of it right.

The funny thing is that when life becomes more complicated, I find myself becoming more attached to photography rather than less.

Not because I need more content.

Not because I need another camera.

Not because I need another photograph.

But because photography gives me something that becomes increasingly valuable when life feels overwhelming.

It gives me permission to leave the house.

A three-hour walk can feel difficult to justify.

There are always things that need doing.

Articles that need writing.

Emails that need answering.

Problems that need solving.

But somehow a three-hour walk with a camera feels acceptable.

It feels like it has purpose.

Even if I come home without a single image worth keeping.

I’ve dealt with anxiety and depression before.

Back in the late 2000s they became overwhelming for a few years.

Like many people who have experienced those things, I learned that they never completely disappear.

You learn how to manage them.

You learn what helps.

You learn what doesn’t.

For me, one of the things that helps is getting outside.

Particularly here in Scotland.

The forests.

The rivers.

The weather.

The changing seasons.

The feeling of being surrounded by something much larger than myself.

It’s where I feel most at home.

Photography simply gives me a reason to spend more time there.

What I’ve realised over the years is that photography doesn’t solve my problems.

The traffic is still down when I get home.

The nursery fees still need paying.

The difficult conversations still need to be had.

The uncertainty about the future is still there.

But for a few hours, my mind gets a break from carrying all of it.

Instead of worrying about next month, next year or the next problem that needs solving, I start looking at what’s directly in front of me.

The light.

The trees.

The shape of a river.

The way mist hangs over a field.

The relationship between different elements in a frame.

My attention moves away from the future and back to the present.

And that’s a powerful thing.

I think that’s why photography has remained such an important part of my life.

Not because of the cameras.

Not because of the gear.

Not even because of the photographs.

The photographs are often just the excuse.

The real value is what happens while I’m making them.

These days there are many reasons I carry a camera.

To preserve memories of my daughters.

To support my family.

To create something meaningful.

To work on long-term projects.

To satisfy a creative itch that never seems to go away.

All of those things are true.

But if I’m being completely honest, there is another reason.

Sometimes I carry a camera because I need it.

Not for the photograph.

For myself.

Because for a few hours it gives me permission to slow down, pay attention to the world around me and remember that despite all the worries, pressures and responsibilities, there is still beauty here.

Perhaps that’s what I’ve really been trying to figure out since Google’s latest update.

Not whether I should continue taking photographs.

I already know the answer to that.

The real question is what I want photography to become over the next decade.

I think I want to spend less time worrying about cameras and more time exploring ideas.

Less time thinking about equipment and more time thinking about people, places, memories and the things that give life meaning.

I want to spend more time working on projects.

Witness, a project exploring time and mortality through the huge trees in my local area that will no doubt outlast me.

As We Grow, a documentary project recording my daughters as they grow up, preserving moments that already seem to be slipping away faster than I’d like.

The Land, a long-term project documenting rural Perthshire, its agriculture, traditions and wild spaces.

And one other project that is deeply personal to me, one that I’m not ready to talk about publicly yet. Perhaps one day. For now, it remains private.

Most of all, I want to find out whether it’s possible to build something around work like that.

Not a huge audience.

Not fame.

Not millions of followers.

Just enough people who genuinely care about the photographs, the stories behind them and the journey of creating them.

I don’t know if that’s possible.

The truth is, much of this article has been an admission that I don’t know what the future looks like.

I don’t know what photography will mean to me in ten years.

I don’t know whether these projects will lead anywhere.

I don’t know whether the path I’m considering is sensible or foolish.

What I do know is that despite everything that has changed in my life over the last twenty years, photography remains the thing I keep coming back to.

Not because it’s easy.

Not because it’s profitable.

Not because I’m particularly good at it.

But because it helps me understand the world around me and, perhaps more importantly, my place within it.

And right now, that’s reason enough to keep carrying a camera.

Where I’m Heading Next

If you’ve followed this website for a while, you’ll know most of my writing has focused on cameras, lenses and photography advice.

That isn’t going to stop.

But alongside that, I’m increasingly drawn towards longer-term photographic projects and essays exploring photography beyond the equipment itself.

Projects such as:

• Witness — exploring time and mortality through the ancient trees of Perthshire.
• As We Grow — documenting my daughters as they grow up.
• The Land — exploring the agriculture, traditions and wild spaces of rural Perthshire.

I’ll be documenting those projects, along with the thoughts, successes and failures behind them, over at DavidJFleet.com.

You hear people talking about ND filters, graduated filters, polarising filters… and before long, it feels like you need a whole bag of them just to take a decent photo.

I went through that phase myself.

This article contains affiliate links. If you purchase through these links, I may earn a small commission at no extra cost to you. I only recommend products I use and trust.

Why I Don’t Use Graduated ND Filters Anymore

Back when I was working as a professional landscape photographer, I carried a full Lee Filters system — graduated ND filters (both soft and hard edge), ND filters of different strengths, and a polariser that rarely left my lens.

But things have changed.

Dynamic range has improved, and bracketing is now faster and far easier to use in the field. The way I shoot has become much simpler as a result. Most cameras that I now use – from my Nikon Z6III to the Fuji X-T5 have pretty well-implemented bracketing options.

These days, there’s only one filter I consider essential — and even that depends on the situation. There’s another I still use occasionally. Everything else? Either replaceable, or unnecessary.

When I was shooting with the Canon 5D Mark II, bracketing was far more limited than it is today — just three exposures. If I wanted more flexibility, I had to do it manually, which slowed everything down.

Because of that, I relied heavily on my Lee Filters system.

That meant attaching the filter holder, choosing the right strength, and deciding between hard or soft graduated ND filters depending on the scene — hard edge for flat horizons, soft edge for a more gradual transition. More often than not, it involved trial and error. I’d take a shot, adjust, swap filters, and try again.

It worked, but it wasn’t quick.

At the time, the limited dynamic range of cameras and the more awkward HDR workflows pushed me toward using physical filters in the field. It was the most reliable way to get a balanced exposure.

Now, that’s changed.

Bracketing on modern cameras — whether it’s the Nikon Z system or Fuji X-series — is faster, more flexible, and something I actually use without thinking. Combined with how much quicker and cleaner editing has become, the whole process is far simpler than it used to be.

The One Essential Filter for Photography

There’s only one filter I consider essential today — and even then, it’s not something I use on every shot. The reason it stands apart is simple: its effect can’t be properly replicated in post. That filter is a circular polariser.

Why a Circular Polariser?

It does two things exceptionally well.

First, when the sun is off to your side, it boosts saturation and gives your images more punch — deeper blue skies, richer greens, and better overall contrast in your landscape shots.

But the more important reason is this: it cuts reflections.

When you shoot water without a polariser, reflections dominate. You lose detail and colour beneath the surface, and highlights can become harsh and distracting. Add a polariser, and you can rotate it to control those reflections — reducing glare, revealing what’s underneath, and bringing back colour and detail in submerged rocks and textures.

Below are two examples taken moments apart — one with a polariser, one without. Both were processed in exactly the same way.

The difference between them says far more than I can.

And that’s the key point: you can’t recover that information later. If it’s hidden by reflections at the time of shooting, it’s gone.

This isn’t just about water.

A polariser cuts reflections anywhere — windows, shiny surfaces, wet objects — and that makes it useful in far more situations than most people realise.

I use it a lot when photographing plants and flowers after heavy rainfall. That’s when they look their best, but it’s also when reflections can wash out colour and detail. A polariser lets you control that, bringing back richer tones and reducing glare on the surface.

Extra Benefit: Slower Shutter Speeds

Polarising filters typically reduce light by around a stop compared to shooting without one. That might not sound like much, but it can be useful when you want to slow your shutter speed slightly — for example, softening moving water without needing a full ND filter.

In some situations, that small reduction is enough to get the look you want without adding extra filters.

A Small Drawback to Be Aware Of

One thing to watch out for is using a polariser with ultra-wide lenses, like the Nikon Z 14–30mm f/4 S.

Because of the wide field of view, the polarising effect isn’t even across the frame. You can end up with one part of the sky looking much darker than the rest, which can feel unnatural if you’re not careful.

It’s not a deal-breaker — just something to be aware of when composing your shot.

Choosing the Right Polariser

This is one area where quality matters.

I’ve used cheap filters in the past, and they tend to introduce colour casts, uneven results, and — most frustratingly — they’re incredibly difficult to clean properly once they get dirty.

For years, I’ve used Hoya HD filters, after much trial and error with other brands and even different models from Hoya. They strike a good balance between quality and price — no colour issues, easy to clean, and solid build quality thanks to hardened glass. I specifically avoided their Pro1 range, as I found them harder to keep clean in real-world use.

They’re also slim enough to avoid vignetting, where the filter frame starts to creep into the edges of the image.

My Setup (Keep It Simple)

I used to carry multiple filters in different sizes. Now, I keep it simple:

• 82mm for my wide-angle setup
• 77mm for everything else

If I need to use them on smaller lenses, I just use a set of step-down rings. It’s a cheap, simple solution and avoids buying the same filter multiple times.

ND Filters — Useful, But Not Essential

So what about ND filters?

I’ll be straight — for video, they’re essential. For photography, it depends on how you shoot.

If you enjoy long exposures — waterfalls, rivers, the sea — then ND filters make life easier. They let you achieve that smooth, silky look regardless of how bright it is. For that reason alone, I’d say they’re worth having if those kinds of subjects appeal to you.

But I don’t consider them essential.

In my experience, these scenes often look best on overcast days anyway. Light levels are lower, reflections are reduced, and conditions are naturally better suited to longer exposures. In those situations, simply stopping your lens down to something like f/11–f/16 (or further if needed) is often enough to get a slower shutter speed and introduce motion into the water — no ND filter required.

Would the result be cleaner with an ND filter? Probably.
But it’s entirely possible to achieve the look without one.

Modern stabilisation has also changed things. With effective IBIS in today’s cameras, handheld shots at 1/4 to 1 second are realistic, which means you don’t always need a tripod either.

When ND Filters Become Necessary

Where ND filters do become essential is at the extreme end.

If you regularly shoot long exposures — several seconds or even minutes — then you’ll need something like the Lee Big Stopper or an equivalent 6–10 stop filter.

That kind of effect simply isn’t possible without one.

My Experience Using ND Filters

ND filters come in a variety of styles from fixed filtration rectangular filters that need adapters to circular screw on variable strength designs.

I do own a Big Stopper, but I rarely use it.

Partly because of the extra setup — filter holders, adapters, and the whole system — but also because I’ve often found stronger ND filters introduce colour casts that aren’t always easy to correct in post.

These days, if I use ND filters, I tend to stick with lighter-strength, variable ND filters and adjust my shutter speed and aperture to get the result I want. You have to choose your variable ND filter wisely as some designs introduce an un-sightly X shaped pattern in to your images as you increase the strength of the filtration. I now use Freewell variable ND filters which don’t have this issue and are reasonably priced.

It’s a simpler way of working — and for me, it fits better with how I shoot now. However with cameras such as the OM System OM-3, they now have built in computational modes that replicate the effect of an ND filter and even graduated ND filters.

Black Mist Filters — Fun, Not Essential

More recently, I’ve been experimenting with black mist filters on my Fujifilm X100VI.

These have become incredibly popular with photographers chasing a less clinical, more “film-like” look. What they do is fairly simple — they diffuse light slightly, lower contrast, and add a subtle glow (or halation) around bright light sources.

It’s a very distinctive look, and right now, it’s everywhere.

And to be fair — it can be fun.

On a camera like the X100VI with its small 49mm filter size, they’re relatively inexpensive, so it’s easy to pick one up and experiment. I’ve used both 1/4 and 1/8 strength filters, depending on how subtle I want the effect to be.

But I’m going to be straight here.

If you’re new to photography and wondering whether a black mist filter is going to take your images from good to great — it won’t.

This is a creative tool for achieving a specific look, not something that improves your photography in a fundamental way.

The effect itself is also quite subtle. You’ll notice it most in scenes with strong light sources — street lights, headlights, or backlit subjects — and occasionally in how it softens skin tones. In many situations, you may barely notice it at all.

Would I recommend buying one?

Generally, no.

But if you shoot a lot at night, particularly in cities, or you’re drawn to that retro, cinematic look, then at the price, it can be worth trying.

Just don’t feel like you need one.

I’ve seen trends come and go over the years, and while black mist filters are very popular right now, I’d expect that to shift over time.

Do You Need UV or Protection Filters?

I used to buy UV or protection filters for every lens I owned.

These days, I don’t.

I came to the conclusion that putting a £100–£200 piece of glass in front of lenses worth thousands probably isn’t doing image quality any favours. Instead, I leave the lens hood attached and take care of my gear.

That’s been more than enough.

As for UV filters specifically, they’re really a holdover from the film days. Back then, they served a purpose — cutting ultraviolet light hitting the film stock.

With digital cameras, that simply isn’t needed.

The only time I would actively advise putting protection filters on your lenses is in particularly harsh environments — for example, if you’re shooting seascapes and want to protect your lens from salt spray. A good protection filter is also easier to clean than a front element, and far less worrying to scratch.

Conclusion

If I was starting again today, I’d buy one filter — a circular polariser — and spend the rest of my time learning how light behaves.

If I was regularly shooting seascapes or long exposures, I’d add a variable ND filter for that extra control over shutter speed. Beyond that, I wouldn’t feel like I was missing anything.

That’s really the takeaway.

You don’t need a bag full of filters to take great photos — just a couple of high-quality options for specific situations. Beyond that, learning to see and work with light will do the rest.

I’m going to cut straight to the chase here as I’ve recently been using beginner cameras to see how they have come on since I started my own photography journey way back in 2008.

The best overall beginner camera is the Nikon Z50II. I’ve been shooting with it recently and it has plenty of beginner friendly modes such as auto modes and quick access to changing color profiles via a dedicated button on top of the camera. It’s small and light but really comfortable which means you will carry it all day and enjoy using it. The 16-50mm kit lens it is often bundled with is incredibly compact and sharp enough and you have access to Nikon’s full lineup of excellent Z lenses.

Its APS-C sized sensor gives excellent image quality thats easily good enough for professional work and printing large prints.

What’s best about the Nikon Z50II is that although it’s a beginner camera, it basically feels like a shrunk down professional Z6III or Z8 which means it has the same Expeed 7 processor, similar autofocus performance including eye detection which easily keeps up with kids and family.

You can customise the camera’s buttons to have quick access to everything that you need and it can shoot quickly so it can be used for every genre of photography from landscapes to wildlife which means that if you suddenly decide you want to try a different type of photography, the Z50II will be able to handle it. In my opinion, its the single best camera for beginners who don’t want to spend a fortune but want a camera that’s easy to use and capable of growing with you.

Other notable features include USB-C charging, bluetooth connectivity to the Nikon Snapbridge app for quick sharing of photos, Geo location for your images (great for vacation photos) and the app also allows you to download ideal settings to your camera for various shooting scenarios like protraits, kids etc so you don’t need to learn every camera setting to take great photos.

I’ve written a setup guide for the Nikon Z50II which will take you from receiving your camera all the way up to taking photos with the right settings.

I bought mine from Amazon. You can see the latest price for the NIkon Z50II here

This article contains affiliate links. If you buy through them, I may earn a small commission at no extra cost to you. I only recommend cameras and books that I believe are genuinely worth considering.

I actually avoided writing a “best cameras for beginners” article for a long time. Most guides push beginners toward expensive cameras they simply don’t need yet. That often leads to people spending too much money, feeling overwhelmed by complicated gear, or giving up on photography entirely.

This guide takes a different approach. Instead of encouraging beginners to buy the most advanced camera possible, it focuses on choosing a simple camera that helps you learn photography properly.

In fact, I’d go so far as to say that for someone who genuinely wants to learn photography, a used entry-level DSLR combined with a kit lens and a cheap 50mm f/1.8 lens would probably be the ideal starting point.

That’s how I started. I picked up a Canon 450D (called the Canon EOS Rebel XSi in the United States). It wasn’t fancy, but it did everything I needed at the time. It allowed me to learn about exposure, practise using manual controls and, most importantly, simply spend time taking photographs. However, if you want new camera recommendations, then I give those below.

Why Your First Camera Doesn’t Need to Be Expensive

Buying your first camera is a bit like learning to drive.

When someone starts driving, they don’t usually begin in a high-performance sports car. They start with something simple, affordable and forgiving. The goal isn’t to impress anyone — it’s to learn the fundamentals.

Photography works in exactly the same way.

A beginner photographer doesn’t need the latest $2000 camera with dozens of advanced features. In fact, starting with a simpler camera can actually make learning easier because you focus on the important things: light, composition, timing and understanding how your camera works.

Those skills are what make great photographs.

Once you understand them, almost any camera can produce excellent images. But without them, even the most expensive camera in the world won’t magically improve your photos.

That’s why your first camera doesn’t need to be perfect. It simply needs to give you the tools to practise and learn.

And that’s also why many beginners make the mistake of worrying about things like sensor size, megapixels or whether they should buy a full-frame camera. In reality, none of those things matter very much when you’re just starting out.

What matters most is getting a camera in your hands and using it regularly.

Not All Beginners Are the Same

One thing most “best beginner camera” guides overlook is that not all beginners are the same.

Some people simply want a camera that takes better photos than their phone. Others discover that they enjoy photography and want to explore it more deeply as a hobby.

Those two situations are slightly different, and the advice that works best for each group is also different.

Understanding which type of beginner you are will help you make much better decisions about your first camera.

Beginner Type 1: Moving Up From a Phone

For many people, the goal of buying a camera is simple: they want better photos of everyday life.

Family moments, holidays, walks, pets, children growing up — the kinds of moments that phones sometimes struggle to capture well, especially in low light or when you want a more natural background blur.

For this type of photographer, a simple two-lens setup is often ideal.

A versatile kit zoom lens can handle most everyday situations, while a small and affordable 50mm f/1.8 lens allows you to take photos with stronger subject separation and more visual impact.

For many people, that combination will cover everything they ever need.

Photography becomes a way to capture memories rather than a technical hobby, and a small camera kit can do that beautifully.

Beginner Type 2: Learning Photography as a Hobby

The second type of beginner is someone who catches the photography bug.

They want to learn how to take better photos and need a camera that will help that learning process without hindering them.

For this type of photographer, the best approach is often surprisingly simple.

Instead of buying several lenses straight away, it’s often better to start with just one lens and use it for a few months.

Working with a single lens teaches you a lot about photography. You begin to notice how light behaves, how changing your position affects composition, and how your camera responds in different situations.

It also helps you discover what kind of photography you enjoy most — whether that’s portraits, landscapes, travel, wildlife or street photography.

Once you know that, choosing your next lens becomes much easier.

Many beginners make the mistake of buying too many lenses too quickly, only to discover that several of them end up sitting unused in a drawer.

Spend Less on Gear, More on Learning

If you’re serious about learning photography, one of the best investments you can make isn’t a more expensive camera — it’s education.

Understanding light, composition and storytelling will improve your photography far more than upgrading to a newer camera body.

In fact, the best money many beginners can spend when starting out is often on a few well-chosen photography books.

A good book can teach you how experienced photographers think about images, how they use light and how they build stronger compositions.

Those lessons stay with you no matter what camera you use in the future.

Here are a few books that are especially helpful when you’re just starting out.

The Best Cameras for Beginners

With all of that in mind, let’s look at some of the other best cameras for beginners.

Each of the cameras below offers a great balance of image quality, ease of use and room to grow as your skills improve. They are also reasonably affordable, which is important when you’re just starting out.

In most cases, spending around $1000 or preferably less on your first camera is more than enough. What matters far more than buying the most advanced model is choosing a camera that encourages you to get out and practise.

All of the cameras below are capable of producing excellent images and, importantly, they are cameras that you won’t outgrow too quickly as your photography improves.

Nikon Z fc — Best Looking Camera

The Nikon Z fc is an APS-C mirrorless camera that looks beautiful. But it’s not just about the looks.

The Z fc offers dedicated physical dials for both ISO and shutter speed, which can really help beginners see the effect that changes to these settings have on their photos. Being able to adjust those controls directly on the camera makes it much easier to understand how exposure works. That said, if that sounds complicated at first, don’t worry — the Z fc also includes the full suite of automatic shooting modes so you can simply start taking photos straight away.

Image quality is excellent thanks to the 20-megapixel APS-C sensor, which is easily capable of producing professional-level photos. Build quality is very good, the 2.36-million-dot electronic viewfinder is decent (not the highest specification but more than capable), and the fully articulating 1.04-million-dot rear LCD screen makes the camera flexible for photos, video and even selfies.

Importantly, the Z fc also gives you access to the entire Nikon Z lens range, which includes everything from small kit lenses to professional-grade glass. That means it’s a great camera to get started with while still allowing you to invest in a system that you can grow with over time.

I own and shoot with the Z fc’s bigger full-frame sibling, the Nikon Zf, and one thing that stands out is just how flexible the system is. It’s particularly good for family photography thanks to the fast autofocus that can keep up with kids running around. At the same time, the retro styling tends to feel less intimidating when you point the camera at children compared to a large modern camera. The same holds true for the Z fc.

See the latest price for the Nikon Z-fc here.

Fujifilm X-T30 III — Best for Beginners Who Don’t Want to Edit Photos

The Fujifilm X-T30 III is a compact APS-C mirrorless camera that offers excellent image quality and very solid build quality in a small, stylish body.

Like many Fujifilm cameras, it uses physical controls for things like shutter speed and exposure compensation. These controls make it easier to understand how photography works because you can see and adjust key settings directly on the camera. If that sounds intimidating at first though, don’t worry — the X-T30 III also includes a fully automatic Auto mode that can recognise scenes and choose the appropriate settings so you can simply start taking photos.

Where the X-T30 III really stands out is in the way it renders images straight out of the camera, just like the Fuji X-T5 and X100VI that I shoot with regularly.

Fujifilm cameras are famous for their Film Simulation modes, and the X-T30 III includes 20 different film simulations designed to recreate the look of classic photographic films. These profiles produce beautiful colours, pleasing contrast and attractive skin tones without requiring any editing.

For beginners who don’t want to spend time learning photo editing software, this can be a huge advantage. You can simply take photos and enjoy the results straight out of the camera.

Like the Nikon Z fc, the X-T30 III also gives you access to a large ecosystem of lenses. Fujifilm’s X-mount system is one of the most complete APS-C lens lineups available, offering everything from small everyday lenses to high-end professional optics.

That makes the X-T30 III a great camera to start with while still leaving plenty of room to grow as your photography develops.

Are there any downsides to the X-T30 III?

For people who mainly want to capture moments of their children as they grow up, the autofocus isn’t quite as strong as the Nikon Z fc. It’s still perfectly capable, but you may end up with a few more out-of-focus shots when kids are running around at full speed. The Nikon simply tracks moving subjects a little more confidently in those situations.

See the latest price for the Fujifilm X-T30 here

Canon R100 — Best Value Beginner Camera

The Canon R100 is currently one of the most affordable mirrorless cameras available, which makes it an excellent option for beginners who want a proper camera without spending a lot of money.

I began my own photography journey with an entry-level Canon DSLR paired with a kit lens, and that simple setup took me from complete beginner to working professional while teaching me the fundamentals of cameras and photography.

Despite the low price, the R100 still uses a 24-megapixel APS-C sensor, which delivers a noticeable improvement in image quality compared to a smartphone. Photos have more detail, better contrast and a more natural background blur when paired with a good lens.

Canon has also always been very good at making cameras that are easy to use, and the R100 continues that tradition. The menus are straightforward, the ergonomics are comfortable and the camera includes a full range of automatic shooting modes that allow beginners to simply start taking photos without worrying about complex settings.

Autofocus performance is also very good for a camera at this price. Canon’s Dual Pixel autofocus system includes face detection, which helps keep people in focus when taking portraits or capturing everyday family moments.

Like the other cameras on this list, the R100 also gives you access to a growing lens system. Canon’s RF mount includes everything from simple kit lenses to high-end professional lenses, meaning the camera can grow with you if your interest in photography develops further.

The main compromise with the R100 is that it’s a fairly simple camera. The rear screen doesn’t articulate and it lacks some of the more advanced features found on more expensive models. However, if your goal is simply to get started with photography at the lowest possible price, the R100 offers excellent value.

One thing to bear in mind if you’re planning to stay with the system long term is that Canon tends to split its RF lens lineup between very affordable entry-level lenses and more expensive professional-grade options, with fewer mid-range choices than some other systems.

That isn’t necessarily a problem — the cheaper lenses can still produce very good results — but it’s worth being aware of if you expect to expand your lens collection later on.

See the latest price for the Canon R100 here

Ricoh GR IIIx — Best Pocketable Camera for Beginners

The Ricoh GR IIIx is quite different from the other cameras on this list. Instead of interchangeable lenses, it uses a fixed lens, which means the lens cannot be changed.

At first that might sound like a limitation, but for beginners it can actually be a big advantage.

Because the focal length never changes, you quickly learn how scenes will look before you even raise the camera. Over time this helps you pre-visualise photographs and understand composition much more quickly than constantly switching between different lenses.

Despite its tiny size, the GR IIIx uses a large APS-C sensor, the same sensor size used in many much larger mirrorless cameras. That allows it to produce excellent image quality with plenty of detail and natural-looking colours.

The lens itself is also very good. It offers a 40mm equivalent focal length, which is widely considered one of the most versatile focal lengths for everyday photography. It’s wide enough to capture scenes if you take a step back, but also long enough to create very natural-looking portraits of people.

The lens is also relatively bright, which helps when shooting in low light and makes it easier to create pleasant out-of-focus backgrounds when photographing people.

One of the biggest strengths of the GR IIIx is simply how small it is. The camera is truly pocketable — in fact it’s smaller than many smartphones — which means you’re far more likely to take it with you when you leave the house. And in photography, the best camera is often the one you actually have with you.

The camera offers full manual controls, which makes it a great tool for learning photography, but it also includes automatic shooting modes if you simply want to capture moments quickly without worrying about settings.

It’s actually the camera I bought for my eldest daughter Sofia. Because it’s so small and easy to carry, she enjoys bringing it with her and using it, which is exactly what you want from a first camera.

Another advantage of the GR IIIx is that the JPEG images straight out of the camera already look very good, so you don’t necessarily need to spend time editing your photos. There is also a strong community of Ricoh users online who share custom colour profiles. Websites like ricohrecipes.com offer a wide range of looks that can be added to the camera if you want to experiment with different styles.

The main compromises with the GR IIIx are battery life and autofocus performance. Battery life is fairly short compared to larger cameras, so it’s a good idea to buy a spare battery. Autofocus is perfectly capable for everyday photography, but it’s not designed for fast-moving subjects, so photographing children running around or sports can be more challenging than with the other cameras on this list.

However, if your goal is simply to carry a camera everywhere and capture everyday life, the GR IIIx is one of the best cameras available.

If the idea of a small fixed-lens camera appeals to you, it’s also worth taking a look at my full Ricoh GR III review, as the two cameras share many similarities in terms of design, controls and image quality.

Ricoh has also recently released the Ricoh GR IV, which offers more modern autofocus performance. It’s the better camera technically, but it is also significantly more expensive than the GR IIIx.

And if you like the idea of a compact camera with a fixed lens but want to explore more options, I’ve also put together a guide to the best compact cameras currently available.

See the latest price for the Ricoh GRIIIx here

Final Thoughts

All of the cameras in this list are more than capable of helping you improve your photography and take better photos.

The key is not to overthink your first camera purchase. It really is just the springboard and first step on what will hopefully become a lifelong hobby.

Spend most of your time practising and learning. As you gain experience, you’ll begin to understand the type of photography you enjoy most, which will naturally help you decide whether you eventually want a better camera, a new lens, or if you already have everything you need.

Taking this approach will help you avoid wasted money and expensive mistakes along the way.

But most of all, welcome to what I think is one of the most enjoyable hobbies you can do.

Now the only thing left to do is pick a camera and start taking photos.

I had never been to this particular area before, so moving here was a bit of a leap of faith. But everything so far has been better than we could have hoped for. It’s a lovely area with incredibly friendly people and stunning nature and wildlife right on our doorstep.

Sofia has settled into her new school really well and came back with more friends after her first day than I have in total.

I’ve managed to get out a couple of times a week to explore the local area, which has a lovely mixture of soft rolling countryside and woodland, as well as the harsher landscapes on the edge of the Scottish Highlands.

I’ve been taking a camera with me on all my outings — ranging from the X100VI and OM-3 to my OM-1 Mark II and Nikon Z8.

I’m still struggling a little bit to find my feet photographically. I’m increasingly pulled towards nature photography and trying to improve my wildlife photography, which takes time, patience and practice. Not to mention that I’m having to re-learn the local species after having lived abroad for over a decade. My memory and recall of various birds is not what it used to be.

Still, I’m finding that just being amongst nature is like medicine to me. I feel calm, relaxed, and am thoroughly enjoying the time I get outside — even when, as on Tuesday, I come back with no real shots to speak of.

I’m also struggling to focus a little at the moment. The plan had been for the three of us to come here and spend five weeks setting up the new home before my wife and youngest daughter joined us next week. We usually fly with Emirates from Cebu to the UK via Dubai.

Those plans have now gone out of the window due to the conflict currently unfolding in the Middle East. I’ve been preoccupied searching for alternative routes and then dismissing them due to logistics. So it looks like I’ll be watching the situation closely and waiting to determine a safe time for them to travel.

Let’s just hope the whole situation resolves itself as quickly as possible.

In the meantime I have bought in some new lenses which I’m very excited to get out and use: the Fujifilm 16-55mm f/2.8 II as a genral purpose lens so I can still shoot high quality photos but avoid having to swap lenses out in the middle of a Scottish glen in bad weather, as well as the Nikon Z 14-30mm f/4 for landscapes, the Nikon Z 400mm f/4.5 and the 180-600mm as well as the OM System 100-400mm II for wildlife.

I was surprised how light the 400mm in particular was, but also pleasantly surprised by the 180-600mm.

I worked through a bit of a dilemma as to which way to go with my wildlife photography and in the end decided that a combination of using the OM-1 Mark II with the 100-400mm II for casual and walk-around wildlife and nature photography, combined with the Nikon lenses for more purposeful wildlife outings, made the most sense.

Over the coming weeks and months I’ll be getting out more with those lenses for wildlife trips, which I hope will help me start improving my shots slowly. The plan is that come the Autumn, I’ll be much better than I am now, just in time for the Red deer rutting season.

I’ll also be heading out on some proper landscape trips where I will not only shoot but occasionally put various cameras up against each other in the hope that those articles will give some insight into the actual differences between systems.

Sadly, among the things I had to leave behind in the Philippines was my main tripod, so I’m also considering whether to get another — and if so, what to go for.

I’ve also spent a bit of time working out the various bits of kit I need to be comfortable in the Scottish mountains and glens — from waterproof jackets, boots and gloves to rucksacks, camera bags and so on. I now literally have more outdoor gear than everyday clothes, although that probably says more about the state of my normal wardrobe than anything else.

No one needs more than two sets of underwear, right?

After a month or so, and with various trial runs out in the hills, I’ve started to narrow down the kit that actually works here.

After so long abroad — and if I’m honest, after leading a fairly sedentary lifestyle — I’m also really enjoying the process of getting my fitness back to where I want and need it to be.

I’ve found myself pushing uphill faster than I expected and having a little more endurance than I imagined. Of course, that could just be my mental stubbornness and refusal to admit my age rather than any real physical attributes showing.

In the meantime, here are a few articles that I’ve written recently that you might enjoy.

It’s been exactly one week since we finally touched down in Scotland.

All those weeks and months of preparation didn’t really take the stress out of the move, nor the 28-hour journey back. We’ve left a lot of things in the Philippines — some not important, others more sentimental in value. Despite my best efforts, I couldn’t ship everything to the UK that we wanted to keep. We had to make a lot of choices and, in the end, Sofia, my mum and I arrived in Scotland with just four suitcases, three camera bags and two laptops to our name.

We’ve been sleeping on the floor while we wait for beds to be delivered — in fact I still am — but after one week we are slowly getting there. Furniture is ordered and starting to arrive, Sofia’s new toys to replace those she left behind turned up today, and today is actually the first day I’ve even had a moment to consider getting outside and taking a proper look at the area we’ve moved to.

Our first outing at Macrosty Park

It was raining, of course, but Sofia — armed with her new warm and waterproof gear — was more than up for a bit of exploration. This little outing was more about seeing our local area than getting great photos, but I wanted to take a camera along with me.

One of the only things I managed to successfully negotiate on our transcontinental journey was bringing all of my cameras and lenses, split into three camera bags, while wearing my Nikon Z8 around my neck with my heaviest lens attached. That was about 30kg of gear in total, and I felt every bit of that weight in the aches and stiffness in my muscles for a few days after we arrived.

Why I reached for the X100VI

Constant decisions and compromises have been the core of my life in the last few months, so naturally I gravitated toward grabbing my Fujifilm X100VI — a camera that removes many of a photographer’s indecisions about focal length.

A fixed-lens camera with a wide 35mm equivalent field of view is incredibly versatile; it can handle everything from landscapes to portraits, and with its 40-megapixel APS-C sensor I knew it would give me some nice files if any opportunities appeared.

The light was incredibly flat when we arrived at our local park and a fine rain was drifting down — very much like I remember from my time in the Outer Hebrides. With the X100VI worn casually around my neck, we got out of the car and ventured into a beautiful local park that sits on the banks of the River Earn.

As the rain got heavier, I did briefly question the weather sealing on the X100VI. The thought crossed my mind that it would be a bad omen if the weather broke my camera on my very first outing here — but I needn’t have worried. The Fuji performed flawlessly, which is more than I can say for me. To ensure your X100VI is fully weather sealed like mine, see my Fuji X100VI accessories post.

Shaking off the rust

I haven’t really picked up a camera for at least six weeks and it took me a little time to get back into the swing of things.

My eye was slow to spot compositions, I fumbled slightly with the controls because my hands aren’t used to the cold anymore, and I pushed the limits of Fuji’s IBIS further than I should have with shutter speeds I remember being able to handhold years ago but perhaps can’t any longer.

But what stood out to me wasn’t the photos I took — it was the absolute contentment I felt simply walking again, camera in hand, my daughter by my side, and the sounds of nature all around us.

Realising we now live here

This move from the Philippines has been one of the most stressful experiences of my life. I’ve been juggling things that I simply can’t write about here.

But in those moments by the River Earn — watching the water thunder downstream while Sofia threw pine cones in and raced them along — it really dawned on me for the first time since landing that we now live here, in this beautiful country, and that this is where our future will be.

Why the X100VI mattered today

The X100VI was the perfect camera for today.

It gets out of your way when you just want to be immersed in your surroundings, yet still lets you take photographs when the moment appears. No swapping lenses, no agonising over focal lengths — just you, the camera, and the world in front of you.

That’s why it was the first camera I picked up, and why I’ll continue using it for a long time.

Looking ahead

In the coming weeks and months I’ll gradually start getting out more with various cameras.

But a recurring theme in my life is that when I simply want to capture moments — without being burdened by choice — the X100VI is the tool I reach for. Whether documenting places my dad loved in Devon, or Sofia and my new life here on the edge of the Scottish Highlands, the X100VI has been a dependable companion that just gets out of the way.