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Adventures in visiting Airbnb photographers. From the bedroom window I can see her knocking timidly on the wrong door across the street. I go downstairs and lean in the doorway and watch a while. She knocks some more then looks around at me. I grin and wave at her. She looks anxious. She knocks on the door again and then gets out her phone and starts texting someone. It occurs to me at this point that she probably thinks I'm just some random neighbourhood sex pest trying to lure her into my house. Thank god I didn't wear the Jimmy Saville pants. I yell out, 'Hey! Hello!'. She turns round again. I figure she's got it now so I just point into the house and grin. She looks at me blankly. 'It's this one.' I say pointing at the number. She looks suspicious, 'Is it? Airbnb? It's number 17, isn't it?' 'No, no, 14.' 'I'm sure it's 17.' she says and then actually checks her phone to make sure before crossing the road. So, inside the house things go more smoothly, I show her the rooms to be photographed and leave her to it. She calls me as when she's done, and then downstairs says, 'I haven't taken pictures of the yard.' and stares meaningfully out at the yard and then into my eyes, as if I've got some terrible secret hidden out there and she knows about it. 'Okay.' I say. Then she adds quietly, 'Can I just ask,' I lean forward, 'just out of curiosity,' Uh huh, 'If you believe in God?' I stare at her. 'A Hindu god, I mean.' So, I think it all went rather well, can't wait to see the photos, I don't think she rushed things at all.