Our location was near a geographical feature that I know rather well. Being stationary afforded me the chance to photograph it. Over twenty five years ago I was travelling with a friend in his ancient Mini. We were heading for London to meet up with others for a trip to Paris. The Mini only made it to Swindon. Something to do with torrential rain and dodgy electrics. But that's another story. As we passed this hill my friend made a detailed comparison of it to an ex-girlfriend. There's a woman called Joanne out there who doesn't know that I am intimate with the anatomy of her chest.
Red Mel phoned. 'Where are you?' she asked. 'Near Tit Hill'. I replied. I haven't a clue what it's proper name is. But it was okay She knew just where I meant!