The Opening of the Film Archives: An October Saturday in Town with Killian, 2016


Welcome back to another look at the film archives. This time, I’m sharing a few black-and-white street shots from an October Saturday in Nantes, likely taken with the Praktica MTL3 and HP5 Plus film. These outings with my son Killian, which we called ‘Ian and Killian days,’ became a cherished routine, a time for us to reconnect amidst the busyness of life.

He was 17 then, a weekly boarder at his lycée in La Roche sur Yon. On the weekends, we’d often head into Nantes, following the same familiar programme: a visit to the barbershop, a meal at the Sugar Blue café, and finally, a drink at the John Mc Byrne Irish Pub. In the photo, that handsome chap in the barber’s seat is Killian—a little reminder that it wasn’t always Kate joining me on these trips. These outings were a way to stay connected, despite his growing independence. Even with him being only 17, I still felt that sense of responsibility. Once a Dad, always a Dad.

As we went through our usual routine, I found myself facing the familiar challenge of capturing these moments on film. The low light inside the barbershop always made me second-guess whether I could get a decent shot without using a flash. But over time, I learned to trust the Praktica and the HP5 Plus film. There’s a rawness to film photography, especially with Ilford’s HP5. It adds a certain grit and texture to the image, something that digital just can’t replicate.

That’s what I love about film—the imperfections. The grain gives it character, a certain honesty that smooth, polished digital photos lack. It’s not about creating something flawless but about preserving the authenticity of the moment. This shot of Killian in the barbershop, for example, may not be technically perfect, but it’s real. It’s us, it’s Nantes, it’s one of those ‘Ian and Killian days.’

Looking back at these photos, I’m reminded that sometimes, it’s the imperfections that make an image truly memorable. Quite the day, right?

The Opening of the Film Archives – Noirmoutier September 2016


Welcome back, dear reader, to another delve into the Film Archive from before this wonderful blog that I know you enjoy reading so much. I appreciate being able to share these photos with you in the hope that they may not only please you but also offer insight into an older form of photography, one where concerns about overheating or battery life were minimal. I want to demonstrate how it is still possible to achieve great results with any camera and that the main quality in your photography comes from you, the photographer.

Earlier this year, I was there with my Canon 6D Mark II, but today, we’re revisiting my visit from September 2016. At that time, I didn’t have my Canon, but I did have the Olympus Trip 35 with HP5 Plus film from Ilford. I used that camera quite a lot that summer and continued to use it in September. I might just have to dig it out of my camera cupboard and use it again. Constraints and minimal kit often lead to more creative decisions—just think back to my UK trip, where I only had my X100F with me.

Let’s start with the camera. It’s a small but gorgeous camera designed for the mass market in the 1960s and was still being produced in the 1980s, which attests to its appeal among casual photographers. With relatively few controls, it’s pretty foolproof. I can adjust the film ASA setting, and the selenium cell housed with the lens takes care of the rest, whether it’s aperture or shutter speed. The famous red flag appears in the viewfinder when the camera senses insufficient light. All I need to do is set the focus zone.

I must have bought mine around 2015 or 2016, and it was quite affordable at the time—no more than 50€. It was an iconic camera then and still is today, but as the supply of these cameras dwindles, prices have increased. You can now expect to pay 100€ or more, with some models even reaching nearly 200€. It remains a great camera but might be a victim of its own success, along with sellers’ optimism and greed. Buyer beware—shop around, and you might still find more accessible prices.

As for film, prices have also risen, especially for Kodak film, but Ilford remains affordable, as do Kentmere, Fomapan, and Rollei.

I’ve travelled the same road numerous times, and it always brings me a certain sense of peace. I tend to stop off at familiar spots along the way, and those of you with an eagle eye will recognise some of these locations from other photos in this blog.

But why go to Noirmoutier? Firstly, why not? It’s just over an hour’s drive from my home and is a popular destination for many locals from the Vendée. The island now suffers from overtourism, which has certainly changed its character since 2016. Efforts have been made to manage the flow of tourists, with improvements such as parking, pedestrian zones, clearly marked hiking trails, and numerous bike lanes. It’s a beautiful part of the world, so typical of the Vendée Coast with its pinède and long beaches. However, not everything is about tourism. The island is also renowned for its salted butter made with salt from local salt marshes and the famous potatoes from Noirmoutier. Additionally, there’s a small fishing fleet, as well as the fleet from Le Port du Bec in the neighbouring Beauvoir-sur-Mer.

The Opening of the Film Archives – Saint Cado, Belz, Morbihan


Welcome back to the film archives, and welcome back to Brittany, that gorgeous corner of France where my in-laws live. I think I might have let it be known that my French family love camping. Yes, they’re so in tents… I’ll just let that joke sink in for a couple of seconds. In 2016 I had begun “collecting” cameras. The photos from this Breton outing in Saint Cado were taken with the Kodak Retinette 1B, a little gem of a camera from the 1960s, and HP5 Plus film.

We’ll start with Saint Cado. It’s one of those picture-perfect postcard places. It’s not easy to take a bad photo of the place. It’s photogenic. It’s quaint. It has all the clichés of a small Brittany island in the Ria d’Etel, which is an inland sea connected to the Atlantic at the Barre d’Etel… I’m thinking lobster pots, oyster beds, black and white houses with slate roofs, a local Saint, a chapel to this local saint, who was actually from Wales of all places, and a miraculous fountain that fills up with every incoming tide. Yes, it’s one of those places… Did I mention that the bridge that links the island to the mainland is a Devil’s bridge? It is said that the devil demanded the soul of the first creature to cross it. The story relates that Saint-Cado, who was a shrewd fellow, put a cat on it! It is just gorgeous!

Let’s talk about the Kodak Retinette 1B. As I said in the introduction, it is a camera from the 1960s that uses zone focusing, and the 1B as opposed to the 1A has a selenium light meter that works a treat. Zone focusing is where you focus by zones. Mind-blowing, right? If I look at my lens, I will see a distance measurement that I will use as a guesstimate. I will move my aperture dial and let’s say I’m at F8, well everything from one F8 to the other F8 will be in focus. A lot of cameras from this period used this system, and it works. If you want to open right up to F2.8, then there are little rangefinders that you can put on the hot shoe mount and there you will be able to get an exact reading for the distance from your subject. Up to you…

Why use a camera that is over 60 years old?  First of all, why not?  It works.  It’s simple to use.  It doesn’t need a battery.  You load your film and Bob’s your Uncle!  Off you go to shoot your 36 exposures.  It also looks pretty damned sexy hanging around your neck too…  It actually looks so sexy that my son nicked mine, and I had to go and get another one.  At the time of purchase I must have paid no more than £15, and even now it will cost you less than £50.  

So there you have it – a charming little island, a vintage camera, and a roll of trusty HP5 Plus. This trip to Saint Cado was a reminder that sometimes, the best photos come from the simplest tools and the most unexpected places. And who knows, maybe those old film cameras aren’t just gathering dust in the attic – they might just be waiting to capture your next adventure. (But if you happen to see my son with a Kodak Retinette slung around his neck, please tell him to bring it back!)