Exploring France Loire-Atlantique is my latest YouTube vlog exploring France as I can’t travel as I normally do because of the lockdown.
Starting in the town of Clisson, I soon discover the old castle is covered in scaffolding whilst waiting in vain for the light. Moving further westwards, the weather closed in, but the late morning and afternoon had some excellent moments, which you’re going to see during the vlog. The aerial shots are, for me, what makes this latest episode.
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I began my day in Loire-Atlantique in Clisson, one of those towns that makes you slow down as soon as you arrive. Even under a heavy sky, it has character. The light was muted, the buildings sat quietly in the scene, and the cloud cover had enough shape to keep things interesting. For me, clouds with form are always better than a blank grey sheet.
I had around ten possible ideas for my day in Loire-Atlantique, which is often how I work when the forecast looks uncertain. A tight plan can fall apart quickly once rain, tide, or poor light gets involved, so I like having options. One of those options was a sculpture I hoped to shoot at the end of the day. If the weather turned dramatic, it could be brilliant. If I got a clean sunset, even better.
Clisson gave me two compositions straight away, but it also gave me a few headaches.
That kind of frustration comes with photographing historic places in France. Buildings get repaired, repairs take time, and sometimes you arrive in the wrong month or the wrong year. It isn’t ideal, but it is part of working around real places rather than postcard versions of them.
A scene can still be worth photographing when it isn’t perfect. The trick is knowing what to keep and what to work around.
The castle was the main reason I had come to Clisson, so I worked with what I had. I set up with my Canon 24mm TS-E Mark II L, partly because that lens gives me the control I want around architecture and partly because I needed to keep the camera level and the lines clean.
Because of the tree in the river, I had to shift my position and start the composition further across than I first wanted. The branches in the foreground were a nuisance too. They weren’t enough to ruin the image, but they were enough to know I’d be tidying them up later. I also hoped for a break in the eastern cloud, because a little movement or colour in the sky would have helped the frame.
There wasn’t much I could do about the lack of sunlight. The cloud was simply too thick. Still, the soft light suited the stone, and the river gave the scene enough calm to make the stop worthwhile.
My second image in Clisson felt cleaner. Instead of fighting the castle and its scaffolding, I turned towards the old bridge and the church beyond it. That frame was simpler and more about shape than detail, which often makes life easier on a dull day.
For that photograph, I used my Canon 24-70mm F2.8 L Mark II, somewhere around 50mm. I didn’t need any shift this time because the camera was level and the subject sat well in the frame. The church itself was beautiful, a gorgeous Romanesque church that gave the scene a strong focal point without needing dramatic light.
There was also a hint of red building in the cloud to the east. I could see a small patch of colour and hoped it might spread. It never fully arrived, but that didn’t bother me too much. I was out making photographs, and that always beats sitting at home staring at gear.
The rest of the morning in Loire-Atlantique didn’t go to plan. I stopped first at another castle that looked promising, but the rain was too heavy to work in. People often say you can shoot in any weather, and sometimes that’s true, but there is a point where rain stops being atmospheric and simply becomes unusable. This was that point.
After that, I tried an old prehistoric dolmen. It had potential, but the weather had followed me. Once again, the rain won. Rather than force a bad session, I decided to head west and see whether the coast offered something better.
That move changed the day.
I ended up at a coastal spot in Loire-Atlantique that I’d wanted to visit for a while. The tide was out, which wasn’t ideal, but the oyster beds caught my eye. I don’t have any personal interest in fishing or shellfish, but visually, the posts worked. They gave me repetition, rhythm, and enough structure for a more minimal frame.
I leaned into black and white there because the scene didn’t offer much colour. In monochrome, the posts became more graphic and more ordered. I started arranging them in the frame almost as if I were photographing a forest, or rows running away through a vineyard.
A few things made the image work:
For those frames, I used my Canon 100-400mm Mark II L. I also had a polariser on the front to cut reflections, plus a six-stop filter. The label had rubbed off, but the filter did the job. The only real frustration was the tide. With more water in, the scene would have had a stronger base and more separation. Still, the low tide also confirmed something important: by evening, the water level should suit the final location I had in mind.
Later during my day in Loire-Atlantique, I reached Guérande, an area many people know for its salt. If you’ve spent time in France, you’ve almost certainly seen salt from this region on a table or a shop shelf. Standing there on the ground, the light looked hard and unforgiving. Under normal conditions, that would send me looking for softer light or a different subject.
In this case, the harsh light was part of the answer.
The salt marshes were filled with shallow pools, and those pools were catching reflections from the cloud above. Once I sent the drone up, the whole place changed. The horizon stopped mattering. The marshes became patterns, shapes, reflections, and clean blocks of tone. The drone abstracts stole the show.
I had looked at possible locations the day before because the inland forecast looked too wet. I even considered heading back towards another area, but the rain looked persistent there as well. Guérande offered a better chance, and it paid off.
Three things made those images work:
That is one of the useful lessons from this day. Light that feels poor at eye level can become useful from above. The salt marshes didn’t ask for a classic wide-angle treatment. They asked for distance, compression, and a top-down view.
I photographed that section with the DJI Mavic Pro Fly More, and it was the right tool for the place. From the ground, the scene felt descriptive. From the air, it became graphic. That shift made all the difference.
By evening, I reached the last place I had hoped to photograph in Loire-Atlantique, a sea sculpture of a serpent. I had already seen a photograph of it and knew it had potential. With the right tide and the right sky, it could make a striking end to the day.
The problem was that the tide had come in more than I expected.
That made access harder and compressed the amount of time I had to work. At the same time, the rain returned. I could feel myself getting wet as I was setting up, and I knew the journey home was going to be an interesting one. Even so, the subject still had presence. The serpent sculpture looks really cool, especially when the weather turns rough, and the coast starts to feel unsettled.
I had made a few other photographs earlier in the afternoon, but the sculpture was the proper finish to the day, even if the conditions meant I couldn’t stay long. Some locations invite patience. Others give you a short window and ask you to make a decision. This was the second kind.
I packed up quickly, accepted what the weather had given me, and headed off wet but satisfied. Not every ending needs perfect light to feel earned.
Days like this depend on flexibility, and the gear reflected that. I moved from architecture to telephoto details, then from minimalist coast work to aerial abstracts. I didn’t need a huge kit, but I did need the right options.
These were the pieces that mattered most:
Filters helped as well. The polariser was useful on the coast, especially where reflections were distracting rather than helpful. The neutral-density filter gave me the longer shutter speed I wanted for a softer, calmer look in water and foreground detail.
More than anything, the day reminded me that I’d rather be out shooting than stuck at home. Even when a location disappoints, even when the rain gets in the way, the process still teaches me something.
Loire-Atlantique gave me a full day’s worth of problems, and that was part of its appeal. Scaffolding blocked one subject, rain ruined two more, the tide changed the shape of the coast, and hard light forced me to change how I saw the salt marshes. Still, every shift in plan opened another door.
The strongest lesson from this trip was simple. Adaptability matters more than a perfect forecast. A grey morning in Clisson, a minimal coastal study, aerial work over Guérande, and a wet finish beside the serpent sculpture all came from staying flexible.
I share more photographs from days like this on Instagram and Facebook. France always gives me something worth chasing, even when the weather argues back.
