I kept my fingers firmly crossed that the weather might improve as I drove to the Lakes in torrential rain...

We all met over delicious Glenthorne home-made cakes and started getting to know each other.

Later, after dinner, we talked about cameras, shutter speeds, and how to use equipment to greatest effect before some of us walked to the pub - and others took an early night after their journeys.

It was raining at breakfast but by ten o'clock patches of blue were appearing in the Western sky so we set out for Easedale Tarn in good heart.

Turning off the Easedale Road and up onto the footpath that runs alongside the beck, we spotted a rainbow over the fells.

The sun appeared occasionally from behind the clouds leaving amazing patches of sunlight on the scene.

We came a across some very cuddly-looking sheep one of which did an astonishing impression of a mountain goat by leaping straight over a wall.

We also came upon a herd of cows - and that resulted in ten identical pictures of a dear little calf suckling mum.

As we climbed the path by Sour Milk Gill waterfall it began to rain. (Er, excuse me, the weather report had said it was going to be sunny!)

At Easedale Tarn there were white horses and it was a challenge to stand still enough to take photos. The stepping stones below the tarn were covered by water.

So, after eating our sandwiches in the lee of some rocks we retraced our steps - discretion being the better part of valour.

Naturally the sun came out in the afternoon as we got back to Glenthorne Lodge so we joined the half-term throng in Ambleside to hit the tea-shops. Gosh, those tea-cakes were good!

That evening we downloaded the day's photographs and, without exception everyone had come away with some winning shots in spite of the rain - in fact in some cases the pictures were more dramatic because of it.

Forecast: "Dull with scattered showers," although it was raining outside. Maybe there was dry weather on the way...

Clad in wet weather gear, we set out along Grasmere's western shore - colourful at this time of year with the trees beginning to turn brown, red and gold. There was lots to photograph.

We continued past Grasmere and above Rydal Water to Rydal Caves - which gave us and other walkers some respite from the rain - and more photo opportunities...

My next proposed stopping point - the tea-room at Rydal Hall - proved to be the most welcome suggestion of the day!

After tea, three of the group opted for the road walk back to Grasmere while the rest of us took to the Coffin path - an ancient bridleway undulating gently along the valley side.

The downs were popular but the ups were met with some surprise that there should be hills in the Lake District!

We called in at Dove Cottage on the way back where a fascinating guided tour revealed that Wordsworth's sister Dorothy used to walk the four miles into Ambleside and back sometimes twice a day to see if there had been any post. Sixteen miles a day!

Back at the hotel, there as a general plea to download pictures after tea rather than after dinner so that we could get down to the pub and relax.

More smashing pictures revealed including some really artistic close-ups.

We could all see the stair rods coming down outside window at breakfast so I resisted the temptation to phone the weather line to see if they were predicting a heat-wave.

Instead, I gave the party the choice of going out for a walk or a morning inside doing portraiture. "Hmmm," they said almost as one, "Difficult decision. Do we go out in Hurricane Hellvellin and get soaking wet and muddy or do we stay in a nice warm hotel. Guess what? It was no contest.

Showed the group that if you take portrait shots on a wide angle you can make your victim (me) look like Pinocchio because the perspective becomes exaggerated.

Conversely, take it on a longer lens and the perspective is compressed making for a more flattering shot (Funny…. I still didn't look like Kate Moss).

We also took some group shots where my erratic self-timer caused considerable merriment. Much exchanging of phone numbers and e-mails at the end of the break.

For nine of the ten women, it had been their first Walking Women holiday. And somehow I suspect that it won't be the last.