Just like last year, Focus on Imaging ended on Wednesday evening, we said our goodbyes, and pausing only to marvel at the hotel being filled with well-groomed dogs and their owners checking in for Crufts, off I headed straight up to Borrowdale. The Lake District may be a magnet for photographers but after 4 days surrounded by 35,000 of them, my brother and his wife's holiday home is the perfect place to which I eagerly escape. The iPhone-toting nephew may disagree here, but I like that it is a decent half an hour's walk up Castle Crag if you have to get a mobile phone signal, and I'm far from convinced getting broadband or the house is such a good thing. Maybe though I'm just jealous that it's faster in that little green valley than here, 3 or 4 densely-wired miles from the buzzing centre of London.

Focus seemed no less busy than last year, but proved a lot more enjoyable. Being a “pod guru” (babe, Sean?) and resolving individuals' specific questions is a lot more rewarding (reassuring?) and less stressful than demonstrating to a crowd and hoping, praying they are indeed interested in black and white conversion technique. And one of the best things about these events is putting a face to a name you've only met online - a pleasure tempered by one's failing to recognise people standing right in front of you (sorry to Duncan and anyone else I blanked). Believe me, I am a serial offender! And while on the subject of forgetfulness, when you're hours away from heading another 150 miles away from home, is there a better place to realise you've forgotten the chargers for your camera batteries than in the middle of a show? I could just imagine the scornful look on John Gravett's face had I turned up at Lakeland Photographic Holidays begging for help (again). I might have been better spending my time walking, or testing local ales. Come to think of it….

As it is, having the internet in the house does have its value. Sure, it does help to have a history degree up your sleeve when some walkers mistake you for a local who might know when these dry stone walls were built. So it's not just BS when, as well as recommending WG Hoskins' classic The Making of the English Landscape, you guess they must date from the enclosure movement, so 16-17th century. But it's nice to bump into them again later and have a bit of web-based knowledge backing up your hunch. After all, in these days when all knowledge is out there, when was the last time someone asked you about something factual, and you didn't ask yourself why they didn't look it up for themselves?