What Came Back from Dungeness

The first Saturday of 2026 took me back down to Dungeness, often described as the UK’s only desert. While not a desert in the traditional sense, it’s a vast shingle landscape on the Kent coast, shaped by wind, sea, and time. Sparse, exposed, and strangely quiet, it feels more like a place at the edge of the country than part of it.

I had with me my RealitySoSubtle 6×17 pinhole camera loaded with Kodak Gold 200, alongside my Fujifilm X-T1 digital camera. Two very different ways of working, but both well suited to a place that encourages you to slow down and look more carefully.

The morning was bitterly cold, with clear skies and not a cloud in sight. The bright winter light was crisp, though I couldn’t help imagining how different the photographs might feel under heavy clouds or a stormy sky.

The beach itself is scattered with old, derelict boats and abandoned equipment, much of it left to weather and decay. Among them are still-working, beach-launched fishing boats — reminders that despite its desolate appearance, Dungeness remains a working landscape as well as a photographic one.

Let's start with the Digital 

Most were made using the TTArtisan 25mm f/2, a lens I’m absolutely loving at the moment and one I found myself reaching for again and again throughout the morning. Its field of view felt just right for the openness of Dungeness, allowing me to frame the boats and shoreline without overthinking things.

I also had the Fujifilm 10–24mm and 55–200mm with me, giving me the option to go wider or isolate details when needed, but the 25mm quickly became the lens that defined the feel of this shoot.

These next few were made using the FujiFilm XF 55-200mm

Switching back to the TTArtisan 25mm f/2,

Alongside the digital work, I spent the morning exposing a few frames with the RealitySoSubtle 6×17 pinhole camera. It’s a slow and deliberate way of working, especially knowing that each roll only allows for four images, and it felt well suited to the stillness of Dungeness.

I did have some concerns going in. I hadn’t shot colour film for a few months, and I knew my C-41 chemicals were likely past their best. Colour chemistry doesn’t have a particularly long shelf life once mixed, and mine had first been used back in July 2025. I was aware the results might not be perfect — but I hadn’t realised just how far the chemicals had deteriorated.

What came back from the tank wasn’t what I’d hoped for, but it was still a result. These images are part of that process — imperfect, unpredictable, and very much tied to the experience of the morning itself.

The film photos

The negatives were hardly visible on the film, so the scanner did a good job bringing out something from this.

Is There a YouTube Video?

For those who usually follow my work, you’ll know I often put together a YouTube video alongside these shoots. I did film this trip with the intention of doing the same, but I’ve since lost the enthusiasm for video editing and haven’t even looked back at the footage.

For now, this one is staying as a blog post. And honestly, that feels okay — the photographs stand on their own, without the need to turn the experience into anything more.

Conclusion 

Looking back through the images, both digital and film, the morning at Dungeness feels less about results and more about the act of going. The cold, the limited frames, and even the failed chemistry are all part of the story. Not everything needs to work perfectly to be worth doing.