Here are a few half tongue-in-cheek pointers on travel photography from my trip:

1. If the weather is lousy, your photos might be lousy -- but something is better than nothing (especially if you're on an expensive trip).

I know enough about travel photography to know that the best images always seem to be taken early in the morning or late in the afternoon. There is something about the angled light at these times that has a pleasing modeled effect, plus you can capture those deep yellows and burnished orange tints that add drama to virtually any subject. My goal is to arrange my day for early and late shooting, but like most of us, my record for honoring resolutions is spotty -- at best.

On this trip the weather simply did not cooperate, even if I had had enough pertinacity to honor my resolutions. Scotland was beautiful -- if you like wind and rain, and as I lugged my Contax ST around, usually mounted with the 35-70mm Vario-Sonnar f3.4, which I always like to plug, and looking for opportunities for the kind of travel work I like, I only got wetter and wetter. True I played some golf, hoping to bring back photos of classic Scottish links style courses (seaside courses laid out through almost treeless, gorse covered sand dunes and rolling hillocks), and we did travel through picturesque East Lothian towns, but the continual gloomy weather was my enemy. It did not impede my golf, for we only walked off a course once -- when it started to hail as we began to play the famous #1 Course at North Berwick. But by the time we left for Ireland, I only had one image that was a keeper, the obligatory shot of the 18th fairway of St. Andrew's Old Course and the club house of the majestic Royal and Ancient Golf Club of St. Andrew's and the neighboring Rusak's Hotel.

For golfers this shot is a must. I knew that I was only re- taking a cliche, but I felt that I had to bring back from a photo excursion to Scotland this familiar shot. Of course the day was grey. It had been raining on and off, and I had my Contax ST around my neck as I pulled my golf bag on what the Scotch call a "trolley." After I walked off the tee on the final hole at golf's Mecca, I fired away, making sure I included the winding Swilken Burn, the charming brook that runs through the first and eighteenth fairways, in the foreground, and the famous buildings on the horizon.

Yes, a sunny day would have been better, but I was wet and weary, tired of hauling my bag and my camera, dismayed by the blind shots and unseen hazards of the most famous golf course in the world. But, I too had done what so many had done before me: I had photographed this classic St. Andrew's scene and, of course, three- putted the final green for a bogey.

2. If you can't find an interesting subject, settle for an interesting color combination.

By the time I boarded the ferry to travel from Cairnryan on Scotland's west coast to Larne, Ireland I had pushed half a dozen rolls of Kodak's Lumiere 100 through my Contax ST, but I knew that there was nothing I had taken that would be good enough for this newsletter. My shutter release finger was getting itchy, so I walked around the waiting area planning to take some shots of the huge ferry that was boarding cars. Perhaps the ferry was secretly a military vessel, for an official ran over and directed me in clear terms that no photography of the ferry was allowed.

With my frustration increasing, I was determined to use my Contax ST and the trusty 35-70mm Vario-Sonnar on the first sunny day in a week, so I shot the fuel drums. The colors were stunning, even though the image was admittedly static.

A few days later I had a similar experience in Limerick. I strolled through much of the downtown of this down-at-the-heels Irish town that had the familiar urban landscape one sees in almost every country -- a combination of vacant stores and boarded up windows just a few blocks from recently gentrified storefronts and pedestrian malls. My eye caught the facade of three imaginatively painted

storefronts. I waited a minute or so in the hope that an interesting pedestrian would come into view, and my patience was rewarded by the appearance of a jaunty young mother pushing stroller who formed a nice juxtaposition with the colorful facade. Her sunglasses were a fortuitous touch that set off the incongruity of the bright facades.

3. It is never too late to become independent: forget castles (they're boring).

Almost every time I go to Europe I end up being dragged to look at another castle. While I don't claim that every castle looks like another, I do think that Americans are unduly fascinated by castles, whether they're in London, Versailles, or Heidelberg. It is probably because castles are so un-American, so foreign to us, that bringing home a photo of a castle broadcasts to our friends and relatives proves that we really have been away.

On this trip I decided to strike a blow for my own independence from having to prove to myself or to anyone else that I really was on a trip to a faraway land. I declined to visit Edinburgh castle, choosing instead to stroll through downtown to get the "feel" of the city, and I resisted a guided tour of Malahide Castle, in suburban Dublin. It was far better ambling through the stately gardens of Malahide Castle, taking people photos and playing with my Contax lenses, then viewing another tapestry, another aristocratic gilded bedroom set, or another overdone 16th century painting of unruly centaurs carrying off virgins in flowing while gowns.

4. Use the right lens for the job
(not the right toy).

I took along my Zeiss 200mm Tele-Tessar f4 because I was determined to try it out, and the results were good news and bad news. Unaccustomed as I am to any telephoto lens other that a Leica 90mm telephoto, I was unprepared for how carefully I had to focus the 200mm Tele-Tessar in order to get acceptable results.

One of the few sunny days we had was when we went exploring Dublin. After a splendid Irish stew at a downtown bar, along with two pints of Harp's lager, I strolled through the city to check out the camera stores for used Leica gear and to try out the 200mm Tele-Tessar f4 on as many subjects as possible. Frankly, the photo of the street mime performer was the only one worth printing, and even it is not as sharp as it should be. It just takes more care to use a longer lens than I am used to in my travel work. The perspective is so cramped, and the depth of field so shallow, that an old Leica rangefinder devotee like I am needs practice in focusing and composing with longer lenses.

On the other hand, I took my golfing friend's portrait because his expressive, whiskery visage is engaging. It's one of a number of shots I brought back that were much easier for me to make due to the shorter focal length. The Zeiss 85mm Sonnar f2.8 performed beautifully, and I felt perfectly at home with what I call the "head and shoulders" portrait lens. The lesson is, I think, that the long 200mm lens was, for me, a toy, while the 85mm Sonnar was a focal length with which I was familiar, a lens I could trust.

5. If your trip is to Ireland, remember the color green.

I am not crazy about landscape pictures, but I knew before I left for Scotland and Ireland that I would be in seaside locales that would offer spectacular scenery, views of wild beaches, scenic cliffs above the ocean, and grass-strewn sand dunes. I expected to take some shots of the Irish countryside too, but all in all the weather did not cooperate except for two afternoons in Dublin and Limerick. I only had one opportunity to ensure that I returned with a photo of Irish green, and that came in Shannon. Would it be cheating, I thought, to bring home a photo showing lush Irish greenery taken at the sort of artificial setting of the Shannon Golf Club? Frankly, I liked the fact that this beautiful pond was right in the middle of the Shannon International Airport! As we played a round of golf, and as I fired away on my Contax ST, huge jets were continually taking off and landing. It was definitely not the kind of idyllic view of Ireland's countryside with which most of us are familiar.

6. Always ask permission (if you want to be polite).

I must admit that I often fail to ask permission before I photograph strangers. Here I am, a more less mature grown-up of 53, and I am still reticent about approaching total strangers. Lately, however, I have been able to be more courageous and to do the polite thing and ask. One reason is that I have learned that the results can be surprising. Here are two examples, and both turned out tolerably well.

Walking down Grafton Street through the center of Dublin I saw some wonderful yellow pears that glittered in the morning sunlight. Always interested in food in all its manifold variety -- whether in a shop window, on a menu, on my plate, or nestled in a street vendor's cart -- I politely asked permission to take a photo of the sullen vendor and her wares. She didn't say yes, but she didn't say no, so I went ahead even after she turned her head. In a way, the photo is more successful than another straight ahead shot might have been. Her shyness, the yellow of the pears and the white of the newspaper kiosk behind her, and the tattoo on her arm summed up for me her individuality.

Another example of what can happen when ask you permission is the photo of the two caddies at Lahinch Golf Club, an old course on Ireland's western coast. I asked them if they minded my photographing them as they paused for lunch. The fellow on the right asked me whether he would get paid, and when I said that he wouldn't, he tucked into his sandwich with disdain and would not look up. The other caddy, who had carried my bag that morning, was friendlier and stared right into the camera, giving me a scene of two young fellows whose reactions to me and my photography were diametrically opposed. I am glad I asked, and I am glad that one refused. It gave me a much more interesting shot.

Well, that's my primer. I make no claim for the sagacity of my advice, nor for the quality of my photography. I can say, however, it was fun to give myself the photo assignment of making a few shots I could write about here. I only wish the beauty of my golf swing had one thousandth the beauty of Scotland and Ireland -- rain and wind included!