Highlights 2025
On the Road, in Ruins, and Finding Balance
I’m proud of what I managed to achieve this year, particularly the time spent on the road, revisiting familiar places, discovering new locations, and committing more fully to film photography. Despite a slower pace at times, the work continued, the projects evolved, and the archive grew.
January – A Quiet Start
January began quietly, as it often does. I spent most of the month on admin, planning the year, organising calendars, and allowing myself some much-needed downtime.
This January felt different, though slower, heavier somehow, as if my body and mind were asking for a pause.
On a practical note, I had to replace my monitor setup after one of my screens finally gave up, discolouring down one side. Given their age, it felt inevitable. I upgraded to two BenQ 24” monitors mounted on a dual-screen pole stand, which instantly freed up desk space and made the setup far more comfortable to work from.
To break the cabin fever, I managed a short outing to Church Island. I’d always wanted to see the church there, and although it was a cold day, the conditions were perfect for flying the drone. There was no safe route across on foot at this time of year, but summer visits, with lower water levels and firmer ground, should make that possible.
February – Hitting a Wall
February brought the first market of the year at the Titanic Hotel, usually one of my favourites. This time, however, my mental health hit a brick wall. I got through the day, but shortly afterwards, a full health check confirmed what I already suspected: depression, burnout, and a diagnosis of Type 2 diabetes.
That diagnosis explained years of increasingly serious hypoglycemia episodes. It forced me to slow down and rethink everything. I knew I needed to step back from trading for a while and focus on learning how to manage my health properly. For a time, none of my plans for the year made sense.
One thing I never questioned was photography. I wasn’t giving that up. I shot less digital but more film than ever, most of which still needs processing. I continued working with NNCG and helped at markets without trading, including time at the Ballycastle seafront, which felt strangely unfamiliar.
I also started getting out on short day trips again. A return to Clark’s Mill revealed how much had changed—machinery removed, interiors stripped, spaces emptied.
Near the end of the month, Hassie and I headed off on our first long trip of the year: four days in Donegal, timed around my birthday. We explored around the Inishowen peninsula, National Schools, LOP posts, Eire Signs, Cottages, and a Mansion. One night brought an incredible aurora display, though standing still in the freezing cold wasn’t easy—Hassie wasn’t impressed either.
Our final day was spent at Fort Dunree, somewhere I hadn’t visited in years. Much has changed there, and not all of it remains. I spent the entire day shooting digital, film, and drone until the light finally faded.
For my birthday, I treated myself to a Mamiya RB67—a camera that had long been on my list. Finding a good 65mm lens took time, but a Japanese eBay seller delivered a mint example. The RB67 is an absolute beast, and I’m looking forward to many outings with it.
March – Adjustments and Small Wins
March started with a failed attempt at film processing—exhausted chemicals meant everything had to be cleared out and postponed until I could restock properly.
I also made some quick, functional modifications to the back of the van, building a simple shelving cubby. It wasn’t pretty, but it worked—and that was all that mattered.
With the Mamiya now complete, I took it out for a cold but satisfying day photographing a national school and a few cottages. Simple outings like this felt grounding.
April – Back Outside
April finally brought better weather. Martin and I spent a morning wandering the streets of Belfast with cameras in hand, photographing whatever caught our attention. I shot film again, although for now, I only have phone images to share.
Hassie and I were out more often, too, which was good for both of us. Easter brought another four-day trip, this time into Leitrim and Sligo. We visited petrol pumps, national schools, churches, cottages, beaches, and more.
One evening ended with a memorable tick incident in a farmer’s field—an experience I don’t want to repeat. By the end of the month, much of my time was spent attending medical appointments, adjusting to life with diabetes.
May – Markets and Mini Projects
May was busy with work and markets, even though I wasn’t trading myself. I also spent time working on my house while the weather allowed.
A day trip to the Ards Peninsula with Martin took us to shipwrecks, including the Mellifont and SS Empire Tana. We continued one of our long-running mini projects: documenting old red phone boxes and testing whether the phones still rang.
A short video capturing one of the iconic phone boxes as it rings. I tested several of them, but not all were active. Martin is filming the moment, while I’m the one who placed the call to make it ring. You may need to turn up the volume to hear it ring and what I said.
We also visited Woburn House, which is sadly deteriorating fast. Drone footage showed extensive vandalism, with lead stripped from the roof—damage that will only accelerate its decline.
June – On the Road Again
June marked the first week-long trip of the year with my friend Janine. Seven days on the road, wild camping, and exploring. From petrol stations and crypts to peat bog sky trains and asylums, it was a full and varied journey.
Highlights included Ballinasloe Asylum, peaceful forest camps, chance finds, and revisiting locations now drawing more attention from explorers. After parting ways, I spent an extra night alone in the forest with Hassie—something I’ve learned is important after long trips.
A week later, Hassie turned four.
July – The Big Summer Trip
July was the longest and most self-contained journey of the year. Hassie and I spent ten days on the road, crossing multiple counties without a fixed schedule, this year the furthest point was Achill Island. Movement was slow and deliberate, dictated by weather, access, and opportunity.
We visited abandoned national schools, petrol pumps, LOP posts, beaches, and remote forest locations. Some sites were known, others encountered by chance. Two days were spent camped by the sea during a heatwave, with minimal movement and long evenings.
The latter half of the trip brought changing conditions. We walked to restored and abandoned lookout posts and encountered heavy rain and strong winds on Achill Island. One notable discovery was a WWII patrol boat located on the side of an old pier.
The pace remained slow throughout. Time was taken to observe, photograph, and rest. By the end of the trip, the distance covered mattered less than the consistency of the work produced.
August – A Breather
August was busy with work, leaving little time for long trips. I squeezed in forest walks, beach outings with both dogs, and another visit to Clark’s Mill before Lammas Fair rolled around and September arrived quickly.
September — One Last Big Trip
September brought a final extended journey with Janine, lasting seven days. The focus was broad and varied: churches, national schools, petrol pumps, cottages, graveyards, mansions, and loads of unplanned finds.
One abandoned cottage stood out, still containing personal belongings, including framed photographs of JFK. Arundel Disney’s grave was visited (Walt Disney’s great-grandfather), followed by a long-awaited trip to Duckett’s Grove.
As with previous trips, the journey ended with dinner at 3 Amigos Deli (Now unfortunately closed) before returning home.
October – December — Slowing Down
The final months of the year were quieter and more local. Short trips, railway relics, walks in the Sperrins, and the occasional abandoned car filled the gaps between work and rest.
The van entered limp mode briefly due to a blocked DPF, forcing an unscheduled pause. As the year closed, it became clear that both equipment and energy would need attention before the next cycle of travel begins.
Hassie - Along for Every Mile
I wanted to share a few moments of Hassie from throughout the year. She’s been a constant presence on the road and an important part of every trip. Over time, she’s grown noticeably more confident—comfortable off-lead, happy to explore at her own pace, and instinctively aware of when to stay close.
From long stretches on the road and wild camping to quiet walks through ruins, forests, beaches, and open countryside, Hassie has adapted to each place with ease. She’s learned the rhythm of travel, the pauses between locations, and the stillness that comes with stopping for the night. These journeys have become a shared routine, and they wouldn’t feel the same without her alongside me.
Meals on the Road
Here’s a small record of some of the camp dinners from the road this year. Meals were kept simple but dependable: toasties, scrambled eggs, omelettes, steak with mushrooms, and the occasional freeze-dried option when the day ran long, or the weather turned. On some nights, especially after long drives or late finishes, dinner came from a takeaway—eaten back at the van or parked up somewhere quiet before settling in for the night.
Cooking has gradually become part of the routine rather than an afterthought. Each trip has brought small improvements, better timing, fewer compromises, and a growing familiarity with the limits of the camp setup. Preparing food at the end of the day—whether cooked from scratch or picked up along the way—has become a way to slow things down and mark the shift from travel to rest. It’s a quiet, practical ritual, and one I’ve come to value as much as the places themselves.
I shot a lot of film this year—around 50 rolls if I’m honest—though I’m almost afraid to count, knowing they’ll all need processing soon. For my big birthday, I finally added a Mamiya RB67 to the collection, a camera that had been on my list for years. At Christmas, I picked up a 50mm lens for my Hasselblad and managed to snag a Yashica Mat 124G in mint condition. Another long-wanted camera crossed off the list.
Over the past few months, I’ve also been putting real time into this website. I’ve gone back through older articles, rewritten sections, and added more historical depth and context to the places I’ve photographed. I’ve brought some past Highlights back into the fold as well, and they’re well worth revisiting if you haven’t seen them before.
As I seem to say every year, I want to improve my posting—but this time it genuinely feels different. Stepping away from markets and regular social contact made me realise that I haven’t always been telling the full story behind my photographs. The journeys, the moments in between, and the reasons I keep returning to these places matter just as much as the images themselves, and that’s something I’m actively changing.
I’m committing to posting here at least once a month, sharing more of the stories and experiences that happen between the photographs. I’m also planning to introduce a dedicated section for my film photography. Not every frame will become a finished print, but many of them still deserve to be seen, and creating a film gallery feels like the right next step. Alongside that, I want to add a gallery for ongoing projects—a space to document work that’s always evolving and to share progress as these long-term explorations continue.
As for returning to markets, I’m not rushing that decision. When I do, it needs to be with something new—something that genuinely excites me again. Creativity got lost for a while with everything else going on in my life, but taking steps to improve things has allowed that excitement to slowly return, along with, hopefully, the titles for the work too. Stepping back gave me the space to slow down and let the work rebuild in its own time. When it does emerge, it will be honest, considered, and worth the wait.
For now, I want to take a moment to thank every single one of you who follows, comments, likes, shares, leaves Google reviews, and supports my work—whether through words of encouragement or by purchasing a piece in 2025. Your support, in all its forms, truly means the world to me.
I’m also deeply grateful to everyone who has stuck with me for the past 19 years, following along as I continue this journey of ‘Capturing The Lives We’ve Left Behind Before They Disappear’. Your belief in what I do is what keeps me going, and I don’t take that support for granted for a second.
