Saturday, 22 January 2022

Five months of satisfaction

It's now five months since I bought my latest camera, Lili - a German-made Leica X-U fitted with a very fine lens; but also ruggedised and waterproof. This is a camera that can get me a great picture on a cold, wet evening. I have to admit that Lili's all-weather ability - her USP - hasn't been much needed in practice, but it's really nice to know that I can walk around in lashing rain on some muddy track and not worry about water or slime getting in, should I slip and flop into the mire. Lili will emerge unblemished: a rinse-off and a wipe are all she needs. 

Truly a go-anywhere companion. And a true companion she has become. I thought my previous camera, the little Leica D-Lux 4, was the photographic love of my life; but my head has been decisively turned by Lili's superior virtues and (after 13,000 photos) her proven worth. Of course the much older little Leica still scores on smallness and lightness, and for having a wider-angle lens. But these advantages, valuable though they are, are eclipsed by Lili's much better sensor, and easy manual control. I get far nicer pictures when the light is in any way difficult. And I find the superior detail captured absolutely seductive. I place great store on being able to see clearly, and Lili's lens and sensor give me all the detail I could reasonably want. With true colours beautifully rendered too. Did I get value for money? Yes! The pictures prove it.

So I'm sold on owning a 'proper' Leica. Sold also on the judgement of their camera and lens designers. And naturally on the quality of the manufactured product. I can't see myself changing brands, now that I'm 'in'. If ever I want to upgrade, it will surely be to another Leica, albeit a second-hand one like Lili was. I will never be able to afford a new Leica camera. Or rather, I will never be able to justify the extraordinary cost. Already the time has come when I ought instead channel funds into adapting my home for senior living, and keeping myself alive and well. 

It may turn out that Lili is the last camera I need to buy, especially if she keeps on taking great shots into the indefinite future, as well she might, being built to last and unlikely to develop a fatal fault. 

There are other things about her too, which make her a bit special. 

Leica X-Us had only a three-year production life, and surely did not sell well. They were simply too posh and expensive to be casually mistreated in the name of outdoor adventure. After the initial production run, not many more could have been made. I may well have snapped up one of the last good Leica X-Us readily available. 

You can still buy them on the Internet, of course, but the choice is now mainly confined to cosmetically-distressed examples under £1,000 that have clearly led a rough life, or mint-condition boxed examples over £2,000 that were never sold in the first place, or if sold hardly ever used. All the X-Us presently on the market must be at least three years old, and possibly (like Lili) as much as six years old. They still command a price because they have the Leica badge and Leica build-quality. 

Why are they being offered at all, considering that the X-U's specification is nothing special by 2022 standards? Well, in my opinion, they are perceived to be 'the poor man's Leica Q2'. An excellent-condition used X-U is less than half the price of a shiny new Q2 costing £4,500. 

If the remaining X-Us (knocked-about or pristine) find buyers and disappear into private hands, never to be seen again, then the model will get rather scarce on the open market. I'm not saying that this will automatically make it sought-after and valuable. And indeed, I don't want to own something that could make me a focus for robbery, should I be engaged in an urban shoot. But it is at least be satisfying to know that not only has my camera got that coveted red dot, but it's genuinely rare and unusual, almost unknown even to Leica enthusiasts, and never normally seen. I've already had an occasional taste of conferred celebrity during my walkabouts, Lili catching several people's eyes. And believe me, I do know when they're looking! Presumably they'd also like to ask me a few questions. One or two actually have. The attention is nice, but on the whole I prefer to be discreet, or be at least a moving target.

Regardless of Lili's future status, I am looking forward to my 2022 outings and holidays, anticipating all kinds of new pictures in new places. Caravan holidays cost so little that it makes little difference if I cancel a week here or a week there in an effort to save money. No amount of holiday pruning in 2022 will fully cover the money lost on the bodywork damage to Fiona. So I might as well take the financial hit in my stride, and holiday on regardless. It does at least give me many opportunities to put Lili through her paces, which will be pleasurable. And considering some of the scenes to be set before me - such as passing the old Man of Hoy on my way to Orkney one day next September, and exploring the Stones of Stenness, or Maeshowe, or Kirkwall Cathedral while there - I will be glad to have her.