GR8 2CU BCN: Honk if you love Jesus!

To me, one unique selling point for Christianity has got to be the promise of free wine at every service (or, if you're a hardline Protestant, some grape juice to wash down that stale cracker). Can you think of any other religions where refreshments come as standard, and gratis ones at that?

Queue up with the tourist crowds during the day for a look inside Barcelona's cathedral however and you'll be stung with a €5 cover charge. Although a bit cheaper than Sagrada Familia (which despite its prominence on the city's skyline isn't a cathedral), it is still rather a lot for entering a house of God. Take a tip and save your money for some cold cava instead (it's what Jesus would do, remember his first miracle?). Then, come back later in the early evening when the cathedral is free.

The particular evening we called into the cathedral was after sharing a bottle of cava at a tapas bar around the corner; to be honest the last thing we needed was more wine, so if the chalice came our way, we'd have to make excuses. Besides, maybe our Spanish friend José was right and we were heavy drinkers, why else would we be hallucinating about the gaggle of geese we thought we saw as soon as we stepped inside?

Actually, it's no illusion: for many centuries the cathedral cloister has been home to a gaggle of thirteen white geese. By one account this represents the age of Saint Eulalia at whose execution a sudden snowfall concealed her nakedness; the unfazed Romans proceeded regardless by nailing her inside a barrel, sticking knives in the side and rolling the barrel down the street (if you think they exaggerate the violence in Spartacus, read the history books sometime). Another tradition says this was only one of thirteen tortures the saint was subjected to, hence the number of geese kept inside the cathedral. And why geese? Who the heck knows. Blame it on too much cava.

Visiting at night not only means the cathedral is free to enter, but it is also lit mostly by candles and spotlights. The low lighting made it quite atmospheric, but photography was tricky.

As regular readers know, I am a big fan of kinetic or intentional movement photography, where the point is not to achieve pin-sharp results, but rather to take advantage of dim conditions by moving the camera and seeing what results from happy experimentation. It's remarkable what results can be achieved from focusing on the same subject in different ways.

Or blame it on too much cava!

I did manage some straightforward shots of the many highly decorated side chapels, some of which hold the tombs of medieval princes.

Click back again soon and we'll explore another of Barcelona's magnificent treasurehouses of religious artworks.

What about Whitby? 11

In Yorkshire you will often see references to 'Whitby jet', but it's not an aeroplane that you'll see at the airport. Instead, jet is a semi-precious stone found here in abundance which has been mined for thousands of years. The Romans thought Whitby jet had magical powers and Pliny the Elder said it could be used to drive off snakes.

Whitby jet's popularity most recently peaked in Victorian times when the newly-widowed Queen Victoria began wearing black jewellery made from it in mourning. Decades later and we still say something is 'jet-black' when it is especially dark, the blackest black possible.

Even on a jet-black night there are ample possibilities for taking photos, made all the more fun if you take a creative approach and avoid attempting to achieve pin-sharp results. As I've mentioned before, I'm a big fan of 'intentional  movement photography' where little or no effort is made trying to hold the camera stock-still.

Another climb up the 199 Steps from the harbour and to the graveyard, where St Mary's Church was bathed in a floodlight. It was still early evening and a couple of children were amusing themselves by making enormous shadows on the side of the clock tower. 'That was like the most fun...ever,' one of them announced after their parents were finally able to tear them away.

Naturally, I had to have a go myself!

Even at night the churchyard and steps were quite busy, mainly because there is a YHA hostel in the grounds of Whitby Abbey. Here are some hostellers staggering back uphill, the bright lights of Whitby behind him.

And here's the landmark lamppost lighting the stairs, looking more like a flaming torch.

For such a vast structure, the ruins of Whitby Abbey are concealed behind a high wall, all the better for English Heritage. I had to climb onto a rubbish bin which was a bit slick from the salty sea air and hold the camera fairly still during a 10-second or so exposure for this image of the floodlit abbey.

Whitby has only a modest funfair and seaside promenade with the usual amusement arcades, but at night they light up the waters of the harbour.

I thought this light trail looked like a running man. Running from what??

Walking along the cobbles...

...and more opportunities to move the camera during long exposures to catch the limited available light and produce impressionistic images.

After several days of stalking around town on my photo walks, I thought I had covered every inch of Whitby. This particular night while on my own I decided to take a shortcut to the B&B which sits on the cliffs opposite the abbey. Instead of taking the switchback road up to the top, I chose a street at random and began climbing the series of stairs and alleys running between the houses on the hillside. At each bend I kept climbing up, leaving behind the chippies and holiday flats. After turning one corner, the street light disappeared behind me, the ivy crowded overhead and the path became noticeably more narrow. I had to step carefully as the steps were thick with leaves and litter.

At one landing the path levelled off, going past the black windows of an empty cottage. Here the path ended, right at the door of what was clearly an abandoned cottage...with a wide-open door. In the half light after sunset all I could see inside were piles of bags, the ones used by builders to haul around sand and rubble. I was certain these particular bags though contained body parts, so I turned around sharpish. Only a couple minutes later I was back to civilisation, behind the tat shops, only a few feet off the seafront yet who knows how close to my DOOM?!

An unexpected shock ending to an otherwise lovely holiday in a beautiful place. That wraps up Whitby, but I'll be back with some more photos to share before moving on to a quick look at Middlesbrough and York.

What about Whitby? 10

For all the fuss made over sunsets and the 'golden hours' when the sun is low in the sky and producing abundant raking light, there are plenty of photo opportunities after sunset. A 'blue hour' often follows between sunset and dusk, topped off by the occasional 'indigo flash' when  (right before turning black) the sky is at its deepest blue. And then of course there is the challenge of taking photos in darkness, when light is at its most scarce.

When faced with difficult lighting conditions, most photographers put all their effort into producing pin-sharp images. This requires sturdy tripods, remote control shutter release mechanisms or at the very least the camera's timer delay to minimise any movement during long exposures.

One evening in Whitby after sunset I climbed the 199 steps towards the abbey ruins and passed another photographer who was packing away his tripod, content with making what could very well have been the world's one-millionth sunset shot taken that day alone. Yes, every sunset is different, but there are endless possibilities for taking photos in very low (or even non-existent) light, with no special equipment at all.

There are fancy names for this type of image making, like kinetic photography or intentional camera movement photography. Me, I just call it fun.

Why not try one of these techniques yourself next time? For instance, if you're using a zoom lens, you could try twisting the zoom ring during an exposure, which makes the image look as though it is radiating from a central point.

Be sure to try both zooming in and out during exposures as the effects are slightly different. 

Another thing I often do in low light conditions (and which attracts plenty of odd looks) is to twist the camera quickly while the shutter is open for a swirly effect.

That, or moving the camera from one side to the next.

Or jerk the camera downward. This turned the streetlamp and railings along the 199 Steps into jagged spikes.

I'm not able to rub my tummy and pat my head at the same time, but sometimes I twist the camera AND adjust the zoom at the same time.

All of these photos were taken in the half hour or so after sunset, if not later, but the long exposures make some of the photos seem as bright as day.

So what if my fellow photographer who had already packed his tripod had made it to the pub by now? Wait until you see the photos taken well after dark, when Whitby is at its spookiest!

What about Whitby? 9

Whitby is one of the few places in Britain where the sun rises and sets at sea, doubling the opportunity for lots of lovely low light landscape shots.

Unfortunately, I'm not a fan of early starts: Dracula is a morning person compared to me. So instead, here are some of my sunsets!

Playing with the 'soft focus' setting.

Lots of gulls swooping about.

I've used a version of this as the cover for my Whitby book of souvenir photos.

You can just make out the steeple of the church in Lythe.

I was upset by the number of airplane contrails this particular evening, but the lighthouse made an excellent silhouette.

Rule number one of sunset shots: always take a look behind you!

Again with the contrails!

Again with a quick look over my shoulder!

And again with the soft focus!

Now compare the soft focus effect above to the much warmer automatic 'sunset' setting below.

Just about managed to disguise the contrail in this one. Some lovely clouds that evening.

Click back next time for photos I took after the sun went down.