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So having gone home to pick up the new polariser and the Canon 16-35mm, Matt convinced me to come back out shortly after and meet him at Kimmeridge. I decided to do so as he promised the skies there were unbelievable and that good images were a given. I got there shortly after 1pm and having parked the car, I couldn't find my friend. As I got to the beach, I looked left and right and apart from a guy crouched down in the far distance, I couldn't see anyone. I walked the other way and set up at the foot of the old jetty that sprawls out into the distance and at low tide, acts as a bridge between the shore and the hill. Having taken a few images, I saw Matt trudging his way towards me in the distance.

By the time he got to where I was, I could see he was hobbling slightly and not looking best pleased. "I fell over," he proclaimed, showing me his sore hands and battered tripod. I couldn't help but smile. His flimsy, bamboo tripod had suffered during his slip and one of the straw-like legs had snapped. You could tell he wasn't happy, regaling me with the story of how he placed his foot on a wet rock, went arse over tit and ended up prostrate on the floor. He had heard something seash in his bag and when he opened it up, found it littered with broken glass. Fearing the worse, he rummaged through the back to find that thankfully, nothing of any worth was broken, just his "Sunglasses Ron and Paddy The Greek" £5 Jessop's Special ND filter. The only broken thing of worth was his pride.

It wasn't much later that we moved to the other side of the bay and the phantom pube that has so tormented Matt's sensor made an unwelcome return. Lurking somewhere between the top left and middle of all his images, this "pube" has caused Matt many a sleepless night over the last few days, disappearing and reappearing at will. By this time, we were surrounded by a photography workshop led by some fossil that would likely be dug up and discovered by some geologist if he didn't keep moving. Matt was getting more and more frustrated at this determined pube and the wind was howling around us, making it difficult to hear. Matt asked me if I had one of those air-blowers on me; I hadn't brought it with me. It was at this point that I am certain that I heard Matt say "Im gonna ask one of these photographers for a blow." I told him that he should get to know them first, but my reply was also muffled in the breeze.