Lost in my thoughts I somehow took a detour off the main path and rapidly started to find myself on an increasingly overgrown path.

Reaching the crest of a slight rise I stopped suddenly, frozen in amazement at the sight in front of me.

I had stumbled upon a naughty beach.

Regaining my senses I ducked down to hide behind the vegetation.

I don’t know why but I instinctively reached for my camera bag, fitting my longest lens, and then trying to focus on any particularly attractive women I could find below.

It was just as I realized that my lens just wasn’t long enough that I heard a twig snap behind me.

In a panic, I looked behind to see who it was and was shocked to see a police constable.

I started trembling with fear; authority figures had always filled me with dread, always making me feel guilty even if I had done nothing wrong, but this time I had.

“And what do you think you are doing?”

I guessed the question was probably rhetorical, I couldn’t think of anything to say anyhow.

“Hmm, stand up young man!”

I got to my feet, clutching my camera tightly.

I was sure that my fear was written right across my face, I was never much good at hiding my feelings.

“Are you local or a visitor?”

“Visitor sir.”

“Where are you staying?”

“Mrs Hargreaves’s Bed and Breakfast.”

“Good, she’ll do nicely.

Right young man I am going to give you a choice, you may spend the night in the cells, or you can let Mrs Hargreaves deal with you as she sees fit.”

A night in the cells sounded more than I could bear;

there could be only one choice, even if I wasn’t sure what it meant.