Work. That familiar feeling of being a hamster on a never-ending wheel. Emails, passive agressive colleagues, and meetings blurring into one another like the monotonous hum of voices in the office. Sound familiar? Yeah, that was me a few weeks ago. So, what’s a weary soul to do? Employ some sartorial elegance with navy blue chinos, a white button down shirt, my new sungalsses, and my favourite Panama hat, and embark on a spontaneous coastal escape to Vendée!

Now, full disclosure, Vendée isn’t exactly the Caribbean. But for a quick mental recharge, it certainly does the trick. Plus, it was the perfect opportunity to put my Canon 6D Mark II through its paces, specifically the oft-maligned 24-70mm f/4L lens. This trusty workhorse gets a bad rap sometimes, but let me tell you, by the end of this trip, I was a convert.

The Vendée coast is a tapestry of stunning landscapes, each begging to be captured. My first stop was Viellevigne (not strictly the Vendée and just on the other side of the Loire Atlantique border), a charming little town I usually just whiz through on my daily commute. But this time, with a camera in hand and a head full of vacation vibes, I saw it with fresh eyes. I framed the quaint church nestled between two ancient trees, a scene I’d driven past a thousand times without a second glance. The hedgerows, usually just a blur of green, revealed a hidden world of wildflowers and buzzing insects when I switched to the lens’s macro function. Suddenly, the familiar became fascinating.

Next, I cruised down to the grand canal near Fromentine. Now I don’t know if grand means big or grand in this instance. I mean it’s not huge, and the grand canal in Venice is somewhat ore deserving of the title. The sun, a generous giver of both light and good mood, cast a warm glow on the weathered ruins of old houses lining the water. Across the road bridge stood a line of fishing huts, its battered paint a testament to years of battling the elements. The 24-70mm here proved its versatility, letting me capture both the vastness of the canal and the intricate details of the local flora.

As the day wore on, I found myself at Port de Bec, a haven for oyster farmers. Here, the scene was abuzz with activity. Tractors lumbered out of the water, hauling heavy loads of oyster boats ashore. The rickety moorings, weathered and worn, added even more charm. The lens’s sharp autofocus kept pace with the bustling scene, ensuring I didn’t miss a single detail.

Finally, the crown jewel of the trip: the Passage de Gois. This legendary causeway, submerged twice a day by the tide, is a photographer’s playground (just make sure you keep an eye on the water, unlike yours truly who nearly got his sandals swept away!). The tide was rolling in fast, creating a dramatic contrast between the exposed road and the encroaching water. The 24-70mm handled the dynamic light and vastness of the scene beautifully.

But this trip wasn’t just about capturing stunning photos (although, let’s be honest, those were pretty damned cool!). It was a much-needed reminder of the power of stepping off the hamster wheel, even if it’s just for a short while. The fresh air, the sun on my face, the beauty of the Vendée coast – it all conspired to wash away the workaday stress. I came back feeling refreshed, inspired, and with a newfound appreciation for the magic that can be found right on your doorstep, if you just know where to look.

And the 24-70mm? Yeah, it more than held its own. It proved to be a versatile and capable travel companion, capturing everything from sweeping landscapes to macro details. So, next time someone throws shade at this trusty lens, I’ll just point them to my Vendée photo album and let the pictures do the talking.

Until our next adventure my Dear Reader!