We gathered in Edinburgh not knowing quite what to expect – just sketchbooks in hand, and a shared curiosity to see what five days of drawing on location might feel like. What followed was more than just ink and watercolour. It was a lesson in observation, courage, and community – all set against the backdrop of one of the most storied cities in Europe.
Some students had been on several retreats with Ian before. Others were long-time UrbanSketch+ members meeting in person for the first time. And some were brand new to urban sketching – stepping into this creative world with fresh eyes, open minds, and a little bit of nervous excitement.
Day One: Observation Before Perfection
The steps were steep, the view dramatic, and by 10am the sketchbooks were already open. There we were, huddled on the Vennel, gazing up at Edinburgh Castle with pencils poised and nerves twitching. Not the gentlest of starts, but Ian picked that spot for a reason. Not because it was easy – but because it forced us to stop, to look, and to really see.
That’s what sketching on location does: it slows you down just enough to notice what most people rush past. The Vennel’s wonky perspective, the sharp drop of the stairs, the castle looming in the background – it wasn’t about getting it perfect. It was about showing up and having a go.
The first step is always the hardest, and that pencil stage hit everyone a little differently. Some of us worried our buildings looked too squat. Others joked about faking the paving stones. But once those big shapes were down, something shifted. You weren’t frozen anymore – you were sketching. And if you’d got that far by lunchtime, Ian reminded us, you’d already done the hardest part.
When you look at the finished piece, it’s complicated - but breaking it down step by step, that’s what made it possible.
It wasn’t about flawless lines – it was about having a go. Leann’s sketch was a standout: not for being the most polished, but because it was clear and purposeful. Everyone saw something different in that view. Joerg went for the railings – the ones most of us avoided – and Ian gave him a proud nod of recognition. That kind of courage is what Day One was all about.
Day Two: Building Confidence Through Mindful Mark Making
By Day Two, things began to click. The subject was simpler than Day One – a single foreground object with buildings behind – but that gave everyone space to slow down and notice more. The sketching felt calmer, more deliberate. Outlines became more detailed, decisions more thoughtful. We weren’t rushing to finish. We were learning to observe.
There were no stairs, no slopes — just shadows and rooftops. The perspective was easy. We could really focus on colour and shape.
That extra time brought surprising rewards. Some people used negative space consciously for the first time – railings against darker backgrounds suddenly popped into view. We’d chosen a more challenging palette this time, and it paid off – yellows and purples brought energy and expression, pushing people to think more about how colour could support their storytelling. We talked about tonal balance and layering – and how using lighter colours up front gave us more control later.
Perspective was still a puzzle for many, but less intimidating. We were adjusting, experimenting, getting things wrong and trying again. Some parts of the drawings were more successful than others – and that was okay. The important thing was progress, and you could feel it happening.
It wasn’t just the sketches that grew. The community did too. You’d look up and see people offering tips, sharing supplies, pointing out details in each other’s work. The quiet encouragement, the laughs, the moments of “How did you do that?” – those were just as valuable as the progress made.
By the afternoon, the mood had softened. Sketches looked more confident, but more importantly, people looked more confident. That’s what happens when you give yourself time – and permission – to just keep going.
Day Three: The Fountain, the Sun, and the Crowd
Day Three brought us to the Ross Fountain — grand, detailed, and a little bit intimidating. The kind of subject a lot of students would not have felt comfortable to tackle alone. But we tackled it together, and that made all the difference.
The weather was glorious – which meant choice. Some of us perched in full sun; others ducked into the shade of trees or buildings. It was a much busier spot too, so we had to adjust. Tourists walked right through the middle of scenes. Curious passers-by paused to chat. Someone stopped to admire Jean’s sketch, and a student from one of our online courses – Elbereth – recognised Ian and popped over to say hello.
Even with the interruptions, people got stuck in. Confidence was growing. You could see it in the way sketches were laid out – stronger structures, better use of tone, and a clearer sense of what to leave out. Foregrounds felt more intentional. Contrast and composition were being used more deliberately. Sketches were starting to tell a story, not just record a view. The base of the fountain, once a blur of shapes, began to show form and separation.
Not everything was smooth sailing. The trees in the background confused more than a few of us. Some sketches felt a bit too soft overall – strong colour up front, with not enough contrast around it to hold it in place. A few figures got a bit lost in the mix. But we learned. Stronger lines helped with separation. Scaling down helped keep things focused. And tonal layering – starting light and gradually deepening – made a noticeable difference.
Most importantly, we learned that not everything needs to be included. Sometimes leaving a few trees or signs out gives your sketch room to breathe. And if you’re going to make the fountain bold, make sure the background supports it – not competes with it.
By the end of the day, the throwdown told the story. No two sketches were alike – but every single one showed someone who gave the challenge a real go. That’s what mattered most.
By Day Three, I finally felt free with colour. I was afraid of it before - but today, something broke through
Day Four: Honest Reflection And Embracing Imperfections
Day Four dropped us into the middle of another busy location – full of distractions and perspective challenges. The hum of traffic was constant. A loose road grate made a loud clatter every time a lorry drove over it. Some of us were only a few feet from where deliveries were being made. It wasn’t the kind of place you’d expect to find stillness – but we brought our sketchbooks anyway.
And that’s when the real learning happened.
“My windows look like prison cells.” “I think the building shrank.”
They were the kinds of comments that once might have stayed silent. But now, they came with smiles and knowing nods – proof that we were learning to let go of perfection. Because by Day Four, the pressure to get it ‘right’ had started to ease off. People were sketching more freely, more honestly, and with a better understanding of what mattered.
The perspective on this day was particularly tricky. Low viewpoints, unusual angles, and shifting positions all pushed us to adapt – and to accept that the page might not match the photograph in our heads. But with that came creativity. We faked the paving, exaggerated rooflines, and learned how much posture affects what we see. The view wasn’t static, and neither were we.
There were wins: better proportions, improved structure, and more expressive marks. But there were challenges too. Views were blocked, perspectives warped by odd angles, and paving often felt rushed. Still, we showed up, adjusted, and carried on.
Amanda again captured the spirit of the day: “You find a way to get into the zone. You’re not even paying attention to the lorries or the noise. You’re just seeing.”
The throwdown at the end of the day reflected the mix. Some pages were bold and structured. Others were lighter, with space left to breathe. But every sketch showed someone who was thinking, noticing, and sketching with intent. We talked about what we might do differently next time – sit higher, simplify windows, start with a looser grid. And we talked about what we’d learned – that not everything needs a line, and sometimes suggestion says more.
Mistakes weren’t setbacks – they were lessons in motion.
Day Five: A Relaxed Confidence and Community Spirit
By Day Five, something had shifted. The nerves that were palpable on Day One had faded. Sketchbooks were filled with not just drawings, but with memories, connections, and confidence.
The final sketching session felt different – more relaxed, more personal. People found their own space and rhythm more easily. Conversations flowed between sketches, not in place of them. There was no rush to finish, no stress about getting it right – just a sense of being present, being together, and letting the drawing happen.
We sat side by side on benches and kerbs – trading advice, swapping tips, making mistakes, and just keeping going.
Some of our students had never sketched scenes like this before. Some had never sketched on location at all – and wouldn’t have dared to do it alone. But surrounded by community? We did it – together.
There were stories in every sketchbook, yes. But also in every dinner table conversation, every impromptu singalong, every quiet glance of admiration between sketchers. Some left with five completed sketches. Others left with half-finished pages but twice the confidence. Everyone left with something real.
Final Thoughts: Why Retreats Matter
You could call it enhanced learning. Or location-based storytelling. Or mindfulness with a pen. But for most of us, it was simpler than that.
It was a chance to pause, observe, and connect.
As Anya said beautifully, “I don’t usually sketch outside on my own – but on these retreats, I feel safe. Like part of a family.” She’s travelled with some fellow sketchers three or four times, and the familiarity added to the magic. “It’s like coming home.”
If you’ve ever hesitated about joining a retreat, wondering if you’re “ready” – you are. You don’t need perfect drawings. You don’t need to know the names of every building. You just need to show up with a pencil and a bit of curiosity.
And when the lorries start, or someone stops to ask what you’re doing, or the sky goes grey halfway through your sketch – take a breath.
Smile. And sketch anyway.
The beauty of urban sketching isn’t in the perfection. It’s in the doing. And it’s better with company.
Ready to learn more?
If you love the idea of intensive training but can’t make it to one of our in-person retreats, Urban Sketch+ is the next best thing. You’ll get monthly training designed by Ian Fennelly, live workshops, personal feedback, and the same sense of friendship and community that makes our retreats so special – all from the comfort of home.
