The Beginning

It was a cold winter’s day, the sun barely showing… wait, wait, hold up, wrong story. Truthfully, it was just an ordinary, nothing-special day. I was scrolling on Instagram when I stumbled across a post from Expired Film Club. Nothing unusual, just another sports photography post, except this one was shot on film. Yes, film. That supposedly “outdated” thing you shoved in a shoebox after the millennium. The results stopped me mid-scroll. I was intrigued. Cue my usual research method: a deep dive into YouTube rabbit holes. Not long after, I was watching one of my favourite photographers who had also made the switch to film. Three videos later and with a fresh paycheck burning a hole in my pocket, I was convinced, I needed a film camera. 

I found a UK shop called The Vintage Camera Hut that refurbished and sold cameras as well as film stock. Since I’ve been a Canon shooter from day one, I narrowed my search down to their Canon selection. My checklist? Autofocus, TTL light meter, EF lens compatibility. After a bit of Googling, I landed on my perfect candidate: the Canon 650. Affordable, reliable, and most importantly mine after a quick click of “add to cart.”

To seal the deal, I threw in a couple of  Kodak Gold 200 and Kodak Tri-X 400 rolls and my transformation was complete, or so I thought…

A few weeks later, the package finally arrived. When I unboxed the camera, I couldn’t believe it, this 40-year-old machine looked practically brand new.

My First Roll

Naturally, the first roll I loaded up was the Kodak Gold 200. The location? Mdina, because if you’re going to shoot your first roll, what better place than a mediaeval fortress, right?

It was the 21st of July 2024, and I’ll never forget the sound of the electronic winder as I closed the back of the camera. That was the first moment I realised film makes you slow down. Not because the process itself is slow, but because I was. I refused to press the shutter button unless I was sure about the shot. And that, I think, is the beauty of film.

Those 36 exposures didn’t feel like a limitation. They felt like a gift. In a world where everything is instant, where digital cameras can shoot a thousand photos before breakfast, film forces you to stop, plan, compose and wait. And in that scarcity lies the magic.

My First Mistake

Of course, no film journey is complete without a mistake. Mine came when I sent that roll to the lab. While shooting, I had shot the Kodak Gold 200 at ISO 100 (a pull), which meant the film needed to be developed for less time. Did I tell the lab? Nope. Completely forgot.

They processed it normally, and luckily, I got away with it. The results? Surprisingly great. Beginners’ luck, maybe.

The Results

I’ll never forget the anticipation of waiting for those scans. A week went by, and I was refreshing my inbox more often than I’d like to admit. Finally, the email arrived. I downloaded the scans, opened the folder, and there they were: 36 files, 36 exposures. And honestly? They blew me away. Not just because the photos came out well, but because they had feeling. A warmth and atmosphere that I had never found in digital work. That was the moment I knew, my credit card was doomed. Because I was hooked, and there was no turning back.

Next Time on Inside DarkLab…

I’ll take you through my first steps into the darkroom: what I thought while loading film in total darkness, what went right, what went wrong, and how the process slowly began to evolve into what DarkLab is today.