Inverness has that slightly odd ‘Am I a big town or a small city?’ thing going on. The streets, houses and shops all seem to have that local town feel, but the public buildings, the churches, museums and the castle make it seem so much more like an important city.

I guess that makes sense, as Inverness is the major administrative centre for the highlands, yet still has a relatively small population. Similar to many towns and cities in Britain, much of the new development, the supermarkets and retail outlets, has been made on the outskirts of the town. This leaves the old centre of the town relatively unspoiled, but there are fewer people about than perhaps the small shops and cafés need. No doubt the steady flow of tourists like ourselves helps this greatly.

We grab a quick lunch at one of these small cafés and then Evan needs to go back to work for a little while. We take some more footage as we walk along the banks of the river Ness, somehow wider and more impressive than I expected it to be. Evan has clearly prepared his lines for this part in advance and gives a quick visual tour of the main landmarks as I sweep the camera around as needed.

I’m really starting to get confident with his setup now, coming to terms with the speed of the autofocus and learning to trust the exposure enough to not feel like I should interfere.

“That’s enough for one day,” Evan tells me after about an hour of steady work. “Now it’s your turn. Is there anything you want to see?”

“Nothing in particular. Let’s just walk back along the river and I’ll take some photos as we go.” We pack most of the stuff away in our backpacks and I’m left with just my camera around my neck and a fairly wide-angle lens.

The clouds seem to have broken up quite a bit and the sky is now mostly blue, giving my photos a nice bright, busy feel to them. We wander across the river on the northern suspension bridge and slowly make our way south to let me get some good shots of the castle from across the river.

Evan slips comfortably into a position at my side, arm protectively around my back, hand resting lightly on my hip. He’s keen to point out possible shots for me and somewhat confused sometimes by my unusual angles and strange composition.

“You have an eye,” he mutters as I check the latest image on the camera screen.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask him, ready to be offended if he has anything to say that I don’t like.

“No, not bad, just quirky, unusual?”

“I just take whatever I see.”

“Yes, but you see something different to most other people. I like what you see. Have you ever had an exhibition?”

“What? Show my photographs to people. Not a chance.”

“Then,” he pauses for a moment before continuing, “If you don’t mind me asking, what do you take all these photographs for exactly?”

I stop in my tracks, causing Evan to have to halt as well. This is a bit deep, isn’t it. I’ve never really thought about it, but Evan has a point. Why do I take all these photos of landscapes and cityscapes. The wildlife photographs from Africa are easy to explain, but this is something different.

I think Evan can see the emotions flickering across my features because he takes hold of my hand and interlocks our fingers.

“I’ve never thought about it until right now.” I tell him at last. “I enjoy doing it, of course, but I think that I find it therapeutic.”

“Therapeutic? In what way?”

“It’s an escape and an outlet for my emotions. That’s why I have this particular style, I think. I’m exploring myself by taking photographs of the world as I see it, not as others do. Does that even make any sense?”

“Yes, actually, I think it does. I gave up a boring office job to start doing my YouTube channel because working in a stressful environment was making me ill. I needed to get away from it all and video was my escape. You doing something similar with your photographs actually fits totally with that sort of self-help therapy.”

“Oh. I guess I just really didn’t think about it consciously. I’d always taken photographs, right from the start of the digital image era. I even had a tiny little digital camera as a twelve-year-old. Looking back on that now, even that was an escape. I was already being troubled a bit about my sexuality and kept to myself.”

“Were you being bullied?”

“No, I didn’t come out until I was fifteen. It was just all the negativity that seems so common amongst pre-pubescent boys and doesn’t go away when we turn into teenagers.”

“Yes. That seems to be pretty universal. We’re all horrible when we’re that age.”

“When my few friends were constantly talking about girls and what they would do if they were alone with one, I was quietly feeling a little disgusted by the thought. I was more interested in knowing if other boys looked like me and got hard like I did.”

“Yes, it’s often an odd awakening, isn’t it?”

“I saw a bit of a re-run of Queer as Folk when I was thirteen. I knew then that I was gay, but it took me another couple of years to be confident enough to admit it. By then, I wasn’t the only gay kid in my year at school and it was much easier than I feared it would be.”

“I told my dad when I was eleven,” Evan says. “He simply asked me if I needed to talk to anyone about it, or if I wanted to talk to him about anything I was unsure of.”

“Evan, you never talk about your mum?”

“No, I don’t really ever mention her. She left when I was seven. She found someone else and moved to America. I do talk to her occasionally, but we just don’t really get on. She seemed unsure about custody and I preferred being with Dad anyway.”

“I lost my dad when he was fifty, nine years ago.” I tell him. “He had a massive heart attack at the office. Mum and I were pretty devastated, but it gets a little easier with time. I had him there beside me all through my childhood and he was always very supportive.”

We walk along in silence, back across the river and then north again towards the castle.

“Do we need to be heading back to the coaches?”

I glance at my watch and nod. “Yes, it’ll be time to go in about twenty minutes.”

“Back to the ship. Half way through the cruise.”

“Don’t. I don’t want to count the days we have left.”

“Why not?”

“Evan? What happens at the end of the cruise?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, do we get off the ship, say farewell and then never see each other again?”

“Not if I can help it. I don’t know what happens next, but I really like you and don’t want this to be a holiday fling.”

Sliding my camera to one side, I crush myself against him and throw my arms around his neck to draw him into a deep, passionate kiss that makes my knees wobble. “I don’t want it to end either.” I whisper.

We’ve agreed to just meet at the restaurant for dinner, as we both feel in need of a little bit of a break after a long day of working and talking. I get a shower, get dressed and check my phone. Evan has posted on Instagram as promised and had more than 100,000 likes within a couple of hours. My first thought is that I’m going to bloody kill him.

I think the thunderous look that I give him when I walk towards our table is obvious to all those around us, but particularly to Evan. He holds his hands up in surrender as I approach and drop into the chair opposite him.

“Really?” I ask him.

“Really what?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“Well, maybe. Is this anything to do with Instagram?”

“Yes, it bloody-well is!” I’m almost shouting, but trying to not make a scene. “What do you mean by calling me the cute cameraman?”

“Oh Adam, I love you when you’re pretending to be angry.”

“I’m not pretending. Wait, what did you say?”

“I said I love you.”

“When I’m angry?”

“Well, yes, but also no. I love you all the time.”

“Bastard…” I mutter. “How am I meant to stay angry with you now?”

“You’re not. How about just leaning over this way and kissing me.”

“I love you too,” I tell him as I lean across the table to comply with his request for a kiss. “But you really need to warn me before you make crazy posts about us on Instagram or anywhere else for that matter.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“You’re sleeping in your own cabin tonight.”

“Okay. I ordered you a G&T already. Was that what you wanted?”

“Not a very subtle change of subject, but I’m going to have a drink and let it slide for now. Thank you.”

“Did you get a chance to look through your photos from today?” he asks as we wait for our starters.

“Yes, I’m pretty happy with them. Inverness is quite a photogenic town and the shots from the castle are suitably moody and atmospheric. How about the video footage we shot?”

“You’re really good at it. The first couple of shots were maybe a little uncertain, but from the reshoot at the castle onwards, you seemed to slip right into the groove. The videos are going to be amazing. I was right about the different dimension that the moving camera lends.”

“You sound really enthusiastic.”

“Well, we seem to make a great team. Will you be able to help again tomorrow?”

“Lerwick? There’s not so much to see in the Shetlands. I’m happy to help again though. What did you have in mind?”

“Mostly just a look at the town, maybe try and see some Viking stuff. As you say, there’s not a lot of video opportunities, but I need to include something.”

“Well, let’s give it a go. I did enjoy helping out today. We seemed to get a good balance that still gave me time to do my own thing. I’m not used to having company when I’m taking photographs. That was very nice.”

“Aren’t you with others when you go on safari?” he asks me.

“Yes, but that somehow seems different. I guess I just know I advance that, on safari, I’ll be sharing a vehicle sometimes. When I’m at home, I tend to be out on my own with the camera.”