An Analog Journey to Vlissingen

Some road trips are measured in miles, while others are measured by the quality of light captured on film. Two weekends ago, I set off in the Pangea Green Defender 110 towards the coast. While the Land Rover remained in the background, acting as my reliable mechanical companion, I was entirely focused on the world through the lens of my Leica M-A.

A Tale of Two Harbours: Framing Scale

Entering Vlissingen provides the rangefinder with a striking visual contrast. On one side is the raw, industrial power of the working docks. The mighty yachts still in their cradles towered over the landscape like steel cathedrals, which was breathtaking to see.

I reached for the 24 mm f/2.8 Elmarit lens to fully appreciate the scale. The wide-angle perspective enabled me to draw a diagonal line from the massive hulls to the industrial geometry of the docks, creating a composition that emphasised both height and depth. Looking to the other side, the scene shifted to the new little harbour. Here, the 24 mm lens captured the city’s fresh, refined side — clean lines and sleek boathouses contrasting sharply with the grit of the shipyard.

The Concrete Edge: 50mm Perspectives

Before heading into the heart of the city, we pulled over and parked right next to the beach. In Vlissingen, the transition from land to sea is famously abrupt — there are no dunes, just the heavy, weathered concrete of the sea wall.

Standing on that stone edge and finally seeing the North Sea, I switched to the 50 mm Summicron. While the 24 mm lens captures the ‘where’, the 50 mm lens captures the ‘feeling’. I used it to isolate the silver line of the horizon against the hard, textured lines of the boulevard. The sharp, salty breeze hitting the concrete added an extra sensory dimension to the shoot that I hope the Kodak Portra 400 will capture with its signature warmth.

 

Midday Metering: Bellamypark

Bellamypark, in the city centre, offered a masterclass in high-contrast light. While enjoying a traditional Dutch ‘uitsmijter’ on a sun-drenched terrace, I studied the statue of Michiel de Ruyter.

Since the Leica M-A is purely mechanical, I relied on my Sekonic L-858D light meter. Using the 1° spot meter, I took a reading of the deep shadows in the bronze textures, ensuring that the brilliant midday highlights didn’t clip. My goal was to capture the spirit of the city through a balanced, cinematic exposure.

The Masterpiece: 90 mm Compression and Dark Skies

The highlight of the return journey was the picturesque route alongside the Scheldt River. As we approached the harbour in Antwerp, the atmosphere changed. It wasn’t just the light that dropped; the sky turned heavy and dark, creating a moody, high-contrast backdrop that suited the industrial skyline perfectly.

This was the moment for the 90 mm f/2.4 lens. Some enormous container ships were passing straight in front of me, heading into the port. Against that darker sky, the 90 mm lens allowed me to compress the scene, bringing the immense size of these vessels closer to the industrial horizon of Antwerp. On film, these giants appeared imposing and powerful — a true photographic masterpiece defined by low-light precision and telephoto compression.

The Slow Road: Finding the Anchor

We took the ‘slow road’ home, passing through the Kempen and the Kalmthoutse Heide. I didn’t take any photographs; I simply enjoyed the view as the landscape rolled past the windows.

I love my green Defender; it always calms me down. In a world that often moves too fast, the Defender is my anchor. It provides a sanctuary where I can find stillness and unwind after the intensity of a shoot. Sitting in the cabin as we move quietly through the heathland allows me to process the images in my mind and feel grateful before I even reach the darkroom.

A New Chapter is coming in the Doka

The journey ended at the Doka, where the hum of the Jobo CPA2 provided the weekend’s final soundtrack. This was a poignant moment — the last piece of work to be performed on this machine. It was deeply satisfying to let the Jobo process these industrial Vlissingen negatives as its final act.

As I hung the negatives out to dry, I felt a renewed energy for the craft. Change is part of the journey, and I’m looking forward to taking the next step in my pursuit of the perfect print.

Thank you

 

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Next up: My transition to the Heiland Electronic TAS Film Processor. I will be sharing how this precision machine is opening a new chapter in my development process. Stay tuned for the first results!

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Technical Setup