Thoughts on filming in Scotland

The thought of taking my video camera to the Highlands of Scotland was exciting, being renowned for wonderful scenery and legendary folk lore. So I was determined not to forget anything, such as tripod and spare batteries. And I can’t emphasise enough the importance of deciding on a treatment. It is so easy to get carried away with excitement and forget some vital cutaways. So that when it comes to editing those wonderful shots, it turns out to be rather difficult. It may sound as if I’m trying to teach Granny to suck eggs, but it happens to me only too often and I have to revert to stills to make that smooth transition from one shot to another.

We took Meg the Labrador with us, and as with most dogs the attraction of water is almost irresistible. It seems the Scottish loch water has a special appeal, unless she was looking for the famed monster lurking in the depths! The outcome was camera equipment etc showered with H2O as she shook herself, only to dash in again.

Another problem was the dreaded Highland midge which sneered at any spray or cream repellent and,

in company with thousands of friends, descended on me whenever I stood still with the camera. It needs heroic nerve when filming; next time I’ll take a net with a small hole for the lens to poke through. The results were quite astonishing and showed the lens being dive bombed by black, buzzing monsters.

On a trip to renowned waterfalls, I hoped to record the salmon leaping - a wonderful sight. The suspension bridge was a good vantage point, so I set up and peered through the view finder. As I was about to press the button, a crowd of German tourists arrived and marched across the bridge which bounced up and down so that I felt as if I was on a trampoline. They hung about enjoying themselves. Then more trippers kept coming, so I moved to the next breathtaking view and perched myself in a very stable position on a rock.

As for always using a tripod, I have decided they do have their limitations when on Ben Nevis or any other mountain. Leaning against a rock and holding your breath, (if you have any left
after the climb) works better.
 

Also if unencumbered, you can beat a hasty retreat when confronted by a Highland Hearth rug with sharp horns!

I had been told of a parade of pipers down by the quayside one evening. Eager to record the scene, I found a good position facing the pipers and drummers as they marched towards me, a wonderful sight with swinging kilts and bagpipes at full blast. Within about two seconds they turned and marched off round the corner out of sight. Even the sound was ruined when a loud voice behind me said, "Och, lets get some fish and chips Hamish.”!

On our last evening, we stood on the quayside watching a yellow moon rising over purple mountains. A boat came up the loch with a lone piper on the prow. Magic! But I didn’t have my video with me so I had to make do with my still camera. If only I’d had a pocket video!

Oh well, I’ll no doubt find enough shots to make my holiday film. However, if only my wife had let me stop at the Bagpipe Factory, I might have played my own background music.