After a terrible December and January (photography-wise) I was stood on the side of a mountain on Achill Island getting battered by strong winds and I was absolutely loving it. I'd first hiked up this mountain side a few years previous on a recce. I'd gone up there to take a look at a neolithic tomb and when I turned round I saw an amazing view of Keel Beach and beyond. This time it was so windy that I had to wedge my tripod legs into the tomb and wrap any cords or straps up tightly. I had to put one foot on the tomb in order to put my eye to the camera's viewfinder and more than once a

  I suppose you wouldn't think of how physically gruelling it is to be a landscape photographer unless you are one (or maybe if you live with one). I forget myself, of course, and keep planning ever more ambitious distances and locations. I'd been wanting to photograph the above view of Achill Island for some time, had attempted it once of twice and gotten nothing but disappointment. I made a 5am start so as to have enough time to get to the location and set up in time for sunrise. I hadn't slept for long enough and the almost 2 hour drive was taxing. Conveniently there's a road

I started doing this whole landscape photography thing properly when I moved to Galway, which next month will be 4 years ago. In that time I've been photographing locations within a certain radius of my house. The radius being the length of time it takes to drive there, and ergo the time I have to get out of bed. That radius has been steadily expanding. At the start I thought an hours pre-dawn drive was long, but pretty soon a 2 hour drive wasn't uncommon. But it was fine as it was all still manageable. On turning my attention to Achill Island I understood that I was at the limits of