Field Report from the 2026 Dolomites Immersive Photography Workshop
From September 13–20, 2026, Sabrina and I shared eight days in the Dolomites with six photographers for our first Immersive workshop. We’d designed this edition around two overnight stays in some of the Dolomites’ most iconic mountain huts.
Staying up there gave us time to enjoy life in the mountains together: sharing dinner, stepping outside with our cameras as evening fell, and waking up with the peaks right outside the door.
First, though, we had to get everyone there. A delayed flight made our meeting at Venice Airport a little more complicated than planned. We then headed to our hotel, where another participant joined us after driving down from Germany.
By late afternoon, all six photographers were together, bags dropped and cameras ready. We headed out to Passo Giau for our first sunset.
Until then, we’d been names in emails, flight times, and travel plans. Now we were all here, with eight days ahead and the Dolomites right in front of us.
Trip at a Glance
- Guides in the field
- 2
- Photographers per group
- 6
- Workshop length
- 8 Days
- My camera system
- Fujifilm
- Dolomites transport
- 9-Seat Van
- Dates coming soon
- 2027
Locations
Gear Used
Camera Bodies
- Fujifilm X-T4
- Fujifilm X-T30
Lenses
- Fujinon XF 10–24mm F4 R OIS
- Fujinon XF 50–140mm F2.8 R LM OIS WR
Getting to Know the Mountains and Each Other
Our first sunset at Passo Giau gave everyone time to start getting to know one another and start exploring the landscape with their cameras. The light was fairly flat, although it had enough direction to give us some interesting moments to photograph. There was no spectacular sunset to send everyone scrambling. As a first session, it worked well: a chance to talk, begin making photographs, and settle into the week.
The next morning, near Passo Falzarego, the sunlight took a while to reach us. Low clouds to the east were blocking its path, while farther northeast, fast-moving clouds and rain in the distance gave us something else to look at.
We worked with telephoto lenses, finding smaller compositions in the distant weather.
Later, when the sun had been up for a while, side light reached the south face of the Tofane. We turned toward the mountain, using longer lenses to pick out smaller scenes in the sunlit rock.
I love my 50–140mm, but every now and then I find a detail that makes me wish for another 50 or 100mm of reach. Turning the zoom ring harder doesn’t help. I’ve checked. Beside me, Katherine had her Fujifilm 70–300mm and was having a lovely time teasing me about it. I was happy for her. Mostly.
By then, the usual sunrise hour was well behind us, but the light on the Tofane was giving us a reason to stay.
Cadini di Misurina: Taking Time on the Way Up
The walk toward Cadini di Misurina asked a little more of some participants. The steeper ground, altitude, and a few sections that needed extra care meant we took our time. We stopped several times to catch our breath and take photographs along the way.
We reached our location during the afternoon, leaving time before sunset to explore. There wasn’t much happening in the sky, but we had beautiful evening light on the Cadini peaks. Turning north gave us another view, toward Tre Cime di Lavaredo behind us.
I love this area for the sense of freedom in those views. You can keep turning and keep finding something worth looking at. Even a full panorama feels like it leaves too much out.
We’d taken the time we needed on the climb, and now we could enjoy being there.
I’ve been coming to these mountains for four decades, and the recent crowds have been difficult to get used to.
Around Cadini, a viewpoint made popular by Instagram and TikTok now draws queues of people waiting for the same photograph.
I understand why people want that photograph. But there’s so much to notice before you even reach the viewpoint. As a guide, I want to share some of the history of these mountains too.
Knowing more about a place can change what catches our eye and what we choose to photograph.
A Night at Tre Cime: From Sunset to the Milky Way
Our first mountain hut stay came next. We left in the early afternoon from the rifugio near the Tre Cime parking area and began our walk toward Rifugio Locatelli.
I’ve never enjoyed rushing people through a place they’ve never visited just to reach a viewpoint in time for the “right light.” I want them to have time to look around on the way.
Sunrise and sunset get plenty of praise in photography. Fair enough. But the landscape doesn’t stop offering photographs once breakfast is over. I don’t think there’s one best light for everything. Soft light reveals some things; hard light brings out others. I’d rather look at what the light is doing and find a subject that works with it.
That starts with taking time to explore. Getting to know the landscape is part of making photographs that come from your own experience of it.
We stopped at Forcella Lavaredo, but the light wasn’t helping with the view into the valley to the north. From there, we continued toward Locatelli with fewer stops, arriving with time for that well-earned beer and to settle into our rooms.
That beer with the group remains one of my clearest memories of the week. We’d finished the walk, settled in, and still had the afternoon and evening ahead of us. There were photographs to be found in every direction, and we had time to enjoy the company too.
Thanks for treating us to the beers, Abel!
We worked with all kinds of compositions around the rifugio: panoramas, wide-angle views, and details picked out with longer lenses.
That night, the conditions were unusually comfortable for mid-September. The sky was exceptionally clear, there was no wind, and the temperature was mild. Above Tre Cime, the Milky Way rose almost straight up, clearly visible to the naked eye. Just looking up was a thrill.
I don’t do much night photography. Other subjects and times of day tend to hold my attention more, but that evening I was very happy to make an exception.
I helped some of the group with camera settings and manual focus. Even with headlamps, finding a button or checking focus takes a little more care in the dark. The mild weather made it easy to take our time, work through questions, and keep shooting.
We stayed out well into the night.
Sunrise by the Lakes: A New Frame in a Familiar Place
A few hours later, some of us headed down to the nearby lakes before sunrise. The sky was still clear, and it was warm enough that I had to take off a layer.
We’d scouted some compositions the previous afternoon, but small ripples were breaking up the reflections we’d hoped for. We worked on those frames and looked for others. It was completely quiet, with no other photographers around us.
After sunrise, the breeze eased. For a while, the water was perfectly still, giving us clear reflections of the mountains. I spent most of that morning at the widest end of my Fujifilm 10–24mm, exploring the view and its reflection.
Clients often ask if I ever get tired of photographing places I’ve visited dozens of times.
No. Have you seen this place?
I love the Dolomites. Even without a camera, I’d want to spend time here. And I love sharing these mountains with people who are seeing them for the first time. A view I know well can be a whole new world to someone standing beside me. I love being there for that.
Coming back also gives me a challenge: finding something I haven’t seen before. And when I do, I get excited. What else have I walked past without seeing? That thought keeps me looking. The more I look, the more I notice, and the more I trust my eye.
The photograph below came from that approach. I’d never seen this composition in photographs of the area, and finding it that morning made a place I knew well feel new again.
Then it was time to return to the rifugio for breakfast and plenty of coffee.
“One of the highlights for me was staying in the two refugios. Having the opportunity to step outside the door at night and photograph the Milky Way, then wake up early and capture the sunrise over the Dolomite mountains, was an incredible experience. Being so close to these spectacular landscapes allowed us to photograph them in conditions that would have been much more difficult to experience on a typical photography trip.”
— Greg Zanoni, USA
Cinque Torri: Looking Beyond the View
We arrived at Cinque Torri on a beautiful, warm afternoon, with clouds above the peaks. It’s a place I always enjoy sharing with the group, both for the photography and for its history. The open-air museum tells part of the story of the First World War in these mountains, giving us more to consider as we explored the landscape with our cameras.
We stayed out photographing until sunset, enjoying the warm evening. The following day, we would head higher for our second night in a rifugio, this time with a very different view outside.
Lagazuoi: When Clouds Changed Our Plans
At roughly 2,800 meters, Lagazuoi gave us a very different welcome.
Clouds surrounded us, and visibility was limited at times. Looking south, we could see nothing of the panorama. It stayed hidden throughout the afternoon, so we turned our attention north and northeast.
Mountains and rocks appeared among moving clouds. We spent the afternoon searching for compositions as clouds moved between the peaks, from medium telephoto views to tight frames with my Fujifilm 50–140mm.
These are some of my favorite conditions. I call it “landscape action.” You spot a peak through the clouds, find a frame, and catch it before it’s gone. Then something else grabs your eye. It feels like a game, and I can happily spend hours playing—finding photographs I couldn’t have planned.
We spent around three hours watching clouds move through the mountains, trying different frames as the view changed.
Even after making a few photographs I liked, I wanted to keep looking. That’s something I often encourage during our workshops: making room for your own choices, even when you’re standing in a place you’ve seen in thousands of photographs.
I know some photographers come with a clear picture in mind. Others trust me to help them find the famous views, and I understand that too. There’s nothing wrong with wanting a photograph of a place you’ve long hoped to visit. But I’ve found that holding too tightly to one image can make it hard to enjoy what’s right in front of you. You can spend a whole session waiting for something else.
Up there, the clouds hid part of the view and gave us something else to explore. That’s what I love about working this way, and what I want to share with the group: time to look, freedom to try, and support as you find your own photographs. The famous views have their place. So does leaving room for a picture you never planned to make.
I’m lucky that the photographers who join our workshops tend to share that open mind, and this year’s group was no exception. They were willing to try, keep looking, and see where the changing conditions might lead. I’m grateful for the trust they put in me and Sabrina, especially when the day takes us somewhere different from what they had in mind.
After our session, we headed back into the rifugio for a Spritz and a dinner of local food. Staying up there meant we could enjoy the evening together, then wake up with the mountains right outside.
By the next morning, the clouds had cleared. Pelmo, Averau, Croda da Lago and Marmolada were now in view.
Our cameras turned mostly south, toward Pelmo and Antelao, and southwest toward the Marmolada. After an afternoon of photographing one side of the landscape, we could finally work with the mountains that had stayed hidden.
Another generous breakfast followed before we prepared to descend and continue toward Alpe di Siusi.
Alpe di Siusi: Waiting for Mist, Finding the Light
We left the high mountain views for rolling meadows, scattered wooden cabins, and more distant peaks. The weather in South Tyrol, however, gave us little reason to expect sunset light.
It was still early afternoon, so we watched how the conditions developed before heading out around midafternoon toward the Sciliar. We used the time to explore and find compositions that suited the light.
There was no real sunset. We worked with the softer light, trying compositions that were less immediately obvious. After the vast mountain views at Lagazuoi, this afternoon gave us time to look more closely at the elements of a different landscape.
For the next morning, I was watching for something more specific: mist in the valley.
Some forecast models weren’t giving it much chance. What I could see, along with what I knew about the area, suggested otherwise. The decision was whether to try this location now or leave it for the next morning. I decided to give it a go.
About forty-five minutes before sunrise, we reached the valley. There was the mist I’d been hoping for, among the cabins and fields. We still had time to begin photographing before the sunlight reached it.
Small cabins were scattered among the rolling fields and pines, with Sassopiatto and Sassolungo beyond. In the soft light, the valley felt wonderfully peaceful.
Then the sun cleared the Sella, and its rays reached the mist.
Light and shadow moved through the valley, changing the scene as we photographed. We worked with telephoto lenses on more intimate compositions, finding different frames within the same landscape. The group was delighted, and the variety of photographs made that morning one of the highlights of the week.
Our Final Session: Photographs, Shared Ideas, and Dinner Together
That afternoon, the week came back to us through the participants’ photographs.
Over coffee and cappuccinos, we looked through some of their strongest work in our photo review. We talked about what each photographer had noticed, which choices worked, and what they could try next. I saw photographs of things I hadn’t paid enough attention to myself.
Our photo editing sessions during the week had given us plenty to discuss too. In one of them, Olof suggested that I edit one of his photographs so we could compare my version with his. The same starting image took two different directions.
That gave us plenty to talk about. Editing is where we decide how we want a photograph to feel and what we want someone to notice. “Too bright” or “too much color” only tells part of the story. What matters is what those choices do to the image. Does it still feel like the place you remember? Does it express what drew you to the scene?
Seeing both versions side by side made that clear: the same photograph can say different things through the choices we make. Editing is a big part of finding your own voice, and those choices often start with a feeling we then work out how to express.
I’d spent the week helping people with their photographs; now their images and ideas were giving me something to think about too. We had plenty to discuss before heading out together one last time.
“One of the things I learned was how to explore the whole view and feel of a place, rather than simply being taken to a location and left to shoot the one classic view.”
— Katherine Wells, UK
For our last sunset, we returned to an area not far from that morning’s location. We worked with wide panoramic views this time, opening out from the smaller compositions we’d made with our telephoto lenses at dawn. It was a lovely evening to finish with.
Back at the hotel, we ended the day with amazing local food, stories, and conversations about the week we’d shared.
Throughout the week, Sabrina took care of where we stayed, how we got around, and the daily plans. That gave the group more time to enjoy the mountains and their photography. So much of what made the week work came from her work behind the scenes.
The next morning, we sat down to one last generous breakfast. We’d burned plenty of calories during the week, so replacing a few more seemed reasonable. Besides, we were in Italy. Food deserves to be taken seriously.
Then we loaded the bags and camera backpacks and set off for Venice Airport, where it was time to say goodbye.
Thank you to The North Face, Nutripure, AllTrails, DxO, and IneditoLab for supporting this edition.
Join the 2027 Dolomites Immersive Priority List
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Our 2026 Dolomites Immersive Workshop group
What’s it like to join our Dolomites Immersive Photography Workshop? Follow our 2026 group through eight days in the Italian Dolomites. Mountain hut stays, shared meals, time to learn, and days spent making photographs with people who love it as much as you do.