I suspect that all those who have found themselves in Vestrahorn on the Stokksnes peninsula of south east Iceland experienced an initial sensory overload. I certainly did and having been spoilt by my experiences on this planet, it takes quite something to leave me speechless.

The mountain range rises almost vertically from the black beach below and falls away symmetrically on each side creating an astonishing vista. This in an arena where many an Icelandic saga has been played out in the minds of creatives.

The dome like sand dunes nestling below Vestrahorn have been owned by the same Icelandic farming family for several generations. Our production team - the excellent True North - had secured us access both to the land and their Icelandic horses who play out their lives in this most majestic of settings.

The goal was to shoot with snow on the ground and snow on the mountains as I knew this could offer a further sense of mythology. I am always greedy with my visuals and I wanted a sense of the cold.

But the day before the planned shoot, the temperature rose above freezing and my canvas on the ground melted quickly. We went to bed hoping for some luck and whilst it started to snow at dawn, my concern was then that the mountain would not be visible. As we rushed out to the predetermined location, the clouds started to lift and provided the farmer could work his magic with the horse we had identified as our star, there was a chance.

This photograph has a sense of place and that was always my goal in Iceland.My work must play homage to the majesty and rawness of the land. It is a place like no other.