Singing in the rain

Being based in a rural area seems to have it's benefits, rarely, but nevertheless sometimes they occur.
After an email with the details of a press event on the not too distant Stanford Training Area (aka STANTA) I was dispatched by the agency to pop along and take a few pictures. The event itself? First use by British troops of a complex constructed to resemble an Afghan village, complete with actors in residence to add to realism.

As a member of the press, resplendent with tag declaring my agency to the world, I was nudged around three stands demonstrating some of the areas the troops were being trained in. The village itself seemed to project as realistic a picture of daily Afghan life as could be portrayed in the middle of Norfolk, with Afghani actors recruited to play the part of local civilians getting completely into character, even going so far as to set up aspects that were initially missing from the village such as a bread oven (we were lucky enough to sample some of the bread - delicious!) and even a stall furnished with an Argeela being used by two of the actors.

The stands themselves again had an onus on realistic training, during one stand where a platoon was exposed to a suicide bomb attack one of the casualties involved was an amputee (from the agency Amputees in Action with one leg missing above the knee. Given the high rate of military and civilian casualties where traumatic amputation occurs through mine strikes and the like, exposing troops to this level of realism can only pay dividends in the long run (pre-deployment training seems to have come on leaps and bounds since I was in the forces).

Construction of the village was apparently completed in an extremely short time, with contractors and planners being extremely enthusiastic and working around the clock to get the complex open in only a few months.




The last part of the exercise was a stand where troops practised searching a compound suspected of containing explosives and or weapons. To view this we ascended a ladder onto the roof of the compound next door and peered into the area where the action would take place. Lined up and looking down into the compound, it felt slightly as if we were at the zoo, waiting for the appearance of a giant panda from the gate in the corner, this feeling was further backed up when (as with most trips to the zoo) it started to rain...



Various grumbles started to emanate from our little group of journalists as the rain got harder, soaking most to the skin (most, including me were wearing light clothing!). Now as I was shooting with uninsured equipment, after a few minutes I started to fear for my cameras (I'm really not in a position to replace any of my kit just now) even sheltering them in the lea of my body didn't seem to be doing much good so I elected to go below, find somewhere dry and try to keep damp to a minimum.

Putting my kit down inside one of the buildings, I started to dry bits and bobs so I could change a lens and go back up, as I knelt haunched over my equipment one by one people from the roof started to file into the room; shaking themselves off and plonking sodden equipment onto the floor with a cameraman complaining that despite the waterproof cover his video kit had stopped working and followed shortly by a photographer from The Times who found one of his 1D bodies had taken the brunt of the downpour and again ceased to work. Bearing this in mind I made my way back onto the roof with a single body and lens. Finding myself the only person on the roof was quite fun and led to a scene reminiscent of the sand people moment in Star Wars, in fact in my bedraggled state I probably resembled one of the sand people (see end of this clip). Sadly, despite my enthusiasm, good shots were very scarce.

With the exercise drawing to a close, lots of sodden journalists, photographers, camera operators, and the like, all made their way back to the coach to wait for the journey back to their cars.

As I sat there downloading images to my Macbook, as usual I started to rehash the job and work out what I would have done better if I could have a 'do over'. Other than waterproof covers (something I've been meaning to purchase for a while now), the words of the editor on the agency's picture desk kept on bouncing around in my head (not a big place, but there isn't much in there), "you need a longer lens", something I know I've admitted previously in my blog. The longest lenes I currently possess are 105mm, one being a zoom and the other a prime. The prime is one of my favourite lenses with a lovely f2.8 aperture providing a lovely look when wide open. Unfortunately 105 just doesn't cut it, I really need to get my hands on something with at least 200mm at the top end (agency would prefer 300mm).

So... still have my sights set firmly on the 70-200mm f4 L, it seems like the way ahead. Though at the moment I won't be able to afford one till my student grant later this year.

Anyway, I think I've rambled enough, shall probably post on equipment again at some point soon. The bits that I lack are causing me great consternation at the moment, I know in the past I've had access to a lot more and have always been of the opinion that a bad workman always blames his tools, but there's a limit to the amount of times you can chant that mantra before you realise that maybe it's not always right... Despite the problems 8 images went up for sale.

Annoyingly on the waterlogged kit front, I'm still drying cameras and lenses out! End and lens caps are off battery and memory card hatches are open and everything is sat on a towel in the middle of the floor. My camera bag has only just dried out after it sunbathed all afternoon in the garden! Probably pack everything back away tomorrow, scared stiff of mouldy lenses!

This post was written to the tune of many different tunes, but today's blog post tune is...(queue drum roll and profuse apologies for the poor quality):



Call it an indulgence, fancied the pants off Lady Kier as a teenager...