Southbank Commute with the Leica M

It’s not often I get chance to visit central London, usually only for the occasional work meeting. Not one to miss a chance I stuffed the M in my backpack covered in a silk pouch. Had a lovely walk to the train station from London Bridge to Westminster.

London was basking in the early spring sunshine.

A quick stop by Hayes Galleria then onto the Millennium Bridge directing on to St Paul’s Cathedral.

The more I walked the better the light got.

A walk wouldn’t be complete without stopping to admire the skills of skaters testing their limits at the Southbank center.

Finally onto the London eye and Westminster Bridge where a lovely pair was captured.

First Walkabout with My Leica M: Slowing Down at Hove Marina

There’s something special about a first walk with a new camera. It’s not just about learning the gear—it’s about seeing the world through a new lens, literally and metaphorically. This weekend, I took my Leica M digital rangefinder out for its inaugural walkabout around Hove Marina. No real plan—just the camera, the sea breeze, and the nifty little Voigtländer 35mm f/1.4 Nokton mounted up front.

First self portrait

I’ve shot with DSLRs, mirrorless cameras, even medium format. But the Leica M is a different beast. There’s no autofocus, no flippy screen, and no barrage of buttons begging to be pressed. Just aperture, shutter speed, ISO, and a bright frame-line viewfinder that forces you to engage.

And that’s the beauty of it.

It was midday, and the light was harsh—high sun with deep shadows and strong contrast. Not exactly golden hour, but perfect in its own way. The kind of light that challenges you to work with what you’ve got. I wandered along the marina, eventually looping around the lake and pausing at the skate park. Everything was alive with motion—ripples catching sharp reflections off the water, skaters carving clean lines into concrete, the occasional burst of laughter cutting through the dry air.

That little Voigtländer delivered exactly what I hoped for—character. Wide open, it gave a dreamy softness to backlit scenes, but stopped down a bit, it snapped into this beautifully crisp, punchy rendering that suited the light perfectly. The Leica, as expected, demanded a slower rhythm. I wasn’t firing off frames—I was composing. Waiting. Watching.

The camera felt incredible in hand. Solid brass, minimal but purposeful. Every click of the shutter had that satisfying, confident thunk. People barely noticed it—especially in a place like the skate park, where DSLRs and phones are everywhere. The Leica just quietly did its thing.

I only took about thirty photos in three hours. That’s it. But I can remember nearly all of them.

One frame I keep coming back to: an apprehensive child skater about to take his first drop in off the ramp with vibrant blue sky’s overhead. There’s a tension in the moment, a pause that feels more like sculpture than sport.

Reminded me of my childhood, pushing my skills and pain threshold to the limit.

Thankfully to say his first drop in was a success. That single image made the whole walk worthwhile.

Shooting with the Leica M and the Nokton reminded me why I love photography. Not for the gear, but for the act. The quiet observation. The chase of light. The joy of turning a moment into something tangible

Next onto the wakeboarding and sailing lake to snap a few more frames.

Shooting with the Leica M and the Nokton reminded me why I love photography. Not for the gear, but for the act. The quiet observation. The chase of light. The joy of turning a moment into something tangible.

This was just the first walk. I can’t wait for the next.