Fototripper Tried to Poison Me

Imagine this: the day after an epic, leg-busting hike in Donegal with my buddy Gavin Hardcastle, we embarked on another adventure, dragging our tired, wobbly legs along the cliffside. Our mission was to capture a stunning cliff peak, but little did we know that this journey would involve an unexpected comedy of errors, starring yours truly and a bag of pork scratchings.

As we trudged along the cliff's edge, our eyes were firmly fixed on our mission. We were determined to reach the jaw-dropping cliff peak that had been calling our names. But, as any photographer knows, distractions are par for the course. And our distraction that day? The mesmerizing seastacks below us.

The seastacks were like nature's skyscrapers, defying gravity and logic. Each one stood as tall as a tree, and it was clear that these colossal rock formations deserved their own photo session. Gavin, with his unwavering passion for photography, promptly set up his gear while I eagerly scouted for the perfect angle.

Now, let's get to the humorous twist in our adventure – the infamous pork scratchings incident.

With the salty sea breeze filling the air, Gavin reached into his backpack and pulled out a seemingly innocent bag of pork scratchings. These little crispy delights are known for their acquired taste – which I, had not yet acquired.

Gavin, however, was determined to convert me into a pork scratchings enthusiast. He offered me a handful, assuring me they were the ultimate snack for photographers in the wild. As I sceptically took a bite, it became clear that I was in way over my head.

The crunchiness and sheer saltiness of the snack activated my gag reflex like a cranky fire alarm. I tried to remain stoic and act as if I was savouring the taste, but it was more of a dramatic performance than anything else. Gavin, witnessing this culinary disaster unfold before him, burst into uncontrollable laughter. He couldn't contain his amusement at my expense.

With the pork scratching taste still clinging on to my tastebuds, it was time for the main event – the golden hour. The sun began its descent, painting the sky with strokes of gold, pink, and fiery red. Our eyes widened in awe as the cliffs and the distant headland were bathed in a celestial, luminous glow.

As we snapped away with our cameras, we couldn't help but revel in the enchanting beauty around us. The picturesque seastacks, kissed by the setting sun, created a visual masterpiece. Our tired legs were forgotten, and the pork scratchings debacle was left in the dust. We were in photography heaven.

The magic didn't stop there. As the golden hour faded, the blue hour descended upon us like a calm, serene blanket. The cliffs and seastacks took on a whole new character, with the tranquil evening adding a layer of serenity to the scene.

We couldn't resist staying for the encore. With every click of the camera, we captured the essence of this serene time. The blue hour marked the perfect, laugh-filled conclusion to a day of the unexpected and the unforgettable.

Our photography adventure in Donegal with Gavin Hardcastle was supposed to be about cliffs, but it became a hilarious tale of seastacks, a snack attack, and incredible light. As we look back on that day, we can't help but laugh at the absurdity of it all.

Photography adventures, like life itself, are often filled with unexpected twists and turns. They remind us to roll with the punches and to find humor in the most unlikely places – even in the face of pork scratchings. In the end, our cliffside escapade was a symphony of laughter, stunning landscapes, and enduring friendship. And that, my friends, is what makes every adventure truly epic.