5. Developing at last!

I've finished shooting my first film on my No.1A Autographic Kodak. Finally I'm ready to learn how to develop a film, how exciting!

I decide to buy a cheap 35mm camera (£5 on eBay) because it's easy to obtain a stack of 35mm film to practise with and it's cheaper than the rarer 120 film. After lots of agonising over various options for chemicals and equipment, I invest in a second hand 'darkroom' changing bag , Paterson universal developing tank, a thermometer, film hanging clips and Ilford developer, stop bath, fixer and wetting agent. I don't know if I really need all this stuff, but I have to start somewhere.

After shooting a roll of film I realise that the first problem is going to be how to get the film back out of the 35mm canister. A couple of YouTube videos later and armed with a slip of paper and some double-sided tape, I manage to retrieve the end of the film. It's all a bit of a faff, so I think I'll get a film canister opener, a bit like a bottle opener but 5 times the price!

As I now have a pile of 35mm film, I can afford to sacrifice one to practise the various steps, starting with feeding the film onto the reel to go into the developing tank. This seems pretty straightforward until I try to do it with my eyes shut, as the two sides of the reel twist in opposite directions. But after a few more goes (and maybe a little swearing) I'm ready to do it for real.

The film, developing tank, reel and a pair of scissor to cut the end of the film away from the canister, all go into my changing bag. Zip, velcro, and away we go.

Even after practising in the light and the dark, it's surprising how much more difficult it is to thread the end of the film correctly onto the reel, with your arms stuck into the elasticated sleeves of a 'darkroom' changing bag.

By the time I've successfully cut the film free of the canister, I'm fairly sure that the film is so damaged, any negatives will be useless. But...press on, do the whole job. With the film successfully (or not) on the reel, and the reel in the now light-safe developing tank, I'm ready to move onto the more fun bit. Hooray!

My kitchen is looking like a chemistry lab, with various liquids measured out into a set of plastic jugs from the local pound shop.

I'm trying to work systematically so that I don't get confused and pour the wrong chemical into the developing tank at the wrong time. I've created my own 4-step guide, merging the information in a way which makes sense to me.

The chart in my guide shows a whole load of developing times according to the type of film, dilution of developer and water temperature. After a bit of prevaricating, I make a decision. In goes the developer into the tank and on goes the stopwatch. If anyone phones, messages or rings the door bell now, I'm not at home!

Three more chemicals later and I'm left with the empty tank and a sense of mounting excitement (or maybe anxiety) for the results.

Drum roll please...

LOOK!!

IT WORKED! It actually worked!

I've developed my first ever film and I'm so amazed!

I stare at the little negative pictures, smiling to myself at the 'magic' of it all. What an incredible process to preserve images from the world around us.

How clever were those 19th century inventors who worked all this out. Thank you William Henry Fox Talbot, Louis-Jacques-Mandé Daguerre and Nicéphore Niépce.

I am in awe.