Local Area is my latest YouTube vlog detailing some of my exploits as I travel to various parts of the world.
I don’t need to drive for hours to feel like I’m on a proper photo trip. Some of my favourite mornings start five minutes from home, with frost on the grass and the Loire slipping past in near silence.
This outing began in my hometown in the Loire Valley, on a clear winter morning at minus 4°C. I had a feeling the dawn might turn pink, and that was enough reason to get out early and work close to home.
I’ve lived in the Loire Valley for about six and a half years now, after moving from the south of England. At first, I lived in the city of Tours, but now I’m in a village just outside the city, which means the countryside is never far away. That changes the way I think about photography.
A lot of travel photographers, me included, can fall into the habit of thinking the best pictures live somewhere else. We picture long drives, flights, maps full of pins, and places with bigger names. Yet some of the strongest local area shoots come from places that sit almost on the doorstep.
The Loire Valley is a good example. The area is often better thought of as the Vale of the Loire, because much of it is fairly flat, but there are still lovely corners tucked away in plain sight. It is also a UNESCO-listed cultural landscape, largely protected because of its historic towns, villages and châteaux. Around Luynes, that rich setting is easy to feel.
The best lesson from this morning was simple, good photographs are often much closer than I first think.
I started down by the river Loire itself, only five minutes from home. The sky was clear, the air had that sharp winter bite, and the river looked calm enough to hold the soft colour of dawn. There were no clouds to add drama, but I didn’t mind that. Clean light can still be beautiful, especially when the day starts cold and still.
One of the reasons I like this spot is the small cluster of wooden boats moored near the bank. They give the scene a sense of place without feeling forced. I’ve seen some lovely sunsets here before, but that morning had more of a dawn feel to it, pale at first and then warmer as the light built.
I set up for the view I wanted and made a picture. It wasn’t perfect, and I knew that at the time, but that almost wasn’t the point. I wanted to show, and remind myself, that a decent image doesn’t need a long journey behind it. Sometimes it only needs a bit of thought, a bit of cold air, and the willingness to stop overlooking what is nearby.
After a couple of frames, I moved on. The next location was barely a minute away.
When I first moved to France, I kept noticing these tree plantations. They have a strong shape and rhythm, but I always found them hard to photograph. Woodland has never been my natural comfort zone, so I tend to work harder in places like this. Still, the light was good, and that made it worth another try.
The low sun had cleared the haze that sat over the river at dawn. By the time I pulled up beside the trees, a clean strip of winter light was hitting the trunks from the side. That side-lighting brought out the spacing, the texture, and the long shadows across the frosty ground.
For the tree plantation shot, I used a simple setup that I trust:
I kept the camera upright because I wanted the lines of the trees to stay clean and controlled. The tilt-shift lens helped with that, and the polariser gave me the contrast I wanted without pushing the scene too far. Once the composition was in place, I took the frame and moved on. The trees had given me what I came for, and the next stop was the one I was most curious about.
The Chateau de Luynes sits high above the village, which makes it visible from several points around the area. I already knew one viewpoint through the vineyards, but it had never quite worked for me. The vines were pleasant enough, and their direction didn’t lead my eye towards the castle. I wanted something more connected, something with a stronger sense of flow.
That matters when I’m trying to previsualise a picture. Before I return to a place in the right conditions, I like to know exactly what I want from it. That means learning the angles, the foregrounds, and the times when sunrise or sunset might pull the whole scene together.
I had spotted a road on Google Earth that looked promising, so I went to check it. On arrival, I found the problem straight away. The route I wanted appeared to edge into private property. I could have ignored the sign and walked on, but I didn’t want to do that. Respecting access matters, especially in rural areas where local goodwill can make a huge difference.
So I tried the public footpath instead. That turned into one of those familiar little detours that doesn’t give the view I hoped for, but does give something else. I ended up chatting to a local man who had lived there for more than 30 years. He told me the viewpoint I wanted was only about 50 metres beyond the sign and suggested a quick wander in and out would probably be fine.
I wouldn’t normally take that route, but I did have a brief look. From there, I could finally see the castle in a way that felt stronger than the vineyard composition. It wasn’t the finished photograph, because the light was too harsh by then, about 10.30 am, but it was a proper recce image, and that had value.
For the castle shot, I switched to the Canon 70-200mm f/4 L with the polariser still in place. I metered the scene and found I didn’t need any ND grads. The polariser was enough. If I get back there on a misty dawn with some colour in the sky, I think the image could be far better.
This morning wasn’t about chasing one perfect frame. It was about paying attention to the places nearest to me and treating them with the same care I’d give a major trip. In the space of a short drive, I worked by the river, photographed winter trees, and found a stronger angle on Chateau de Luynes for another day.
The weather played its part as well. Clear skies meant the dawn stayed simple, the river haze burned off quickly, and the low winter sun gave the trees shape. Later on, the same bright conditions made the castle scene too harsh. That contrast was useful because it told me exactly when not to return.
I also came away reminded of how helpful local knowledge can be. A brief chat changed the whole direction of the castle scout. That sort of thing happens often when I slow down and spend time in my own area.
If anyone wants to see more of my work, I share recent images on Instagram and post other work on Facebook.
The strongest part of this morning wasn’t the distance covered. It was the fact that everything came from my local area, within minutes of home.
That is why I keep returning to places I already know. The pictures get better, the ideas get clearer, and the next good morning is usually much closer than it first seems.
And if you’re interested in discovering the Loire Valley with a camera, then do check out my annual Loire Valley photo tour in May.
