I had expected to be confronted by an anally retentive bearded fellow — all telephoto lenses, nylon bags and Velcro-fastening combats — blinding me with jargon.

In fact our three tutors, Henry, James Lockett and Selwyn Leamy, were young, fun and friendly. Dressed like members of an indie rock band, they were all trained, accomplished photographers (Selwyn, the most garrulous and eccentric of the three, is also a landscape painter).

Henry led the tutorials and explained the rules of composition. We learnt about leading lines, which draw you into the picture, from the images of Ansel Adams and the principle of a frame within a frame, which emphasises a focal point, through Henri Cartier-Bresson.

After our first lesson, we drove to Pescocostanzo, a small town with a fine basilica, ornate façades and patterned brickwork, where we were told to set our cameras on automatic, and concentrate on composition. I had no idea what I would photograph, and lacked confidence. I slouched off down some back alleys where no one could see me.

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Remembering Henry’s words, I looked hard to find my subjects, and bent and crouched to change perspective. I found myself drawn to banal details such as rags tied to railings, peeling wall surfaces, broken doors.

Later in the morning, Henry caught up with me and flicked through my images on screen. My stomach churned. “Hmm. Do you know the work of Richard Wentworth? You’d like his stuff. This is good, Kate — all beautifully composed. You’re very into detail and textures.”

Was Henry just being nice? My confidence ballooned from that point. The rest of the group — at least half of them complete beginners — were similarly inspired. Photography became a bonding point — we made friends with one another effortlessly as we compared our shots.

Our days followed a pattern: tutorial in the morning, excursions to take photos, an activity such as pasta-making or truffle hunting, a group discussion of our work in the evening, and usually a late-night impromptu party. If that sounds hectic, it didn’t seem so. We were never expected to get up early, or to study for too long. Eating, drinking and idling were an important part of the itinerary.

None of us was prepared for the intense verdant beauty of Abruzzo. In our two minibuses, we sped along empty roads, gaping at the landscape: snow-capped mountains, forested valleys, villages carved into the hillsides, fields of soft barley and meadows erupting with wild flowers.

Off the tourist trail, life in Abruzzo seems intensely Italian. There are breathtaking castles such as Roccascalegna, and stunning abandoned hilltop villages like Gessopalena, but many of the towns have a modest, traditional charm.

Elderly women dress in black with crucifixes at their necks, men play cards in the street, and a single bar stays open with a TV on and a dog snoozing outside.

Our last photographic project at the Masciarelli Palace was the trickiest. We had learnt the technical stuff — aperture, ISO settings, shutter speeds — but I struggled in the dim light of the house, and the results, bar two or three shots, were bad — too dark, too light, too shaky.

That evening Henry and James took us, one by one, through our images. We had to pick four to put forward for discussion (and a public vote) after dinner. When it came to my turn, Henry politely said that I hadn’t “mastered the technical aspects” but reassured me.

“Anyone can learn to operate a camera. We get people on these courses with all the gear, all the technical knowledge, but they still can’t take good pictures, because they don’t know where to look. That isn’t a problem with you. Keep taking pictures of the things that interest you. When you get home, buy yourself a decent SLR and pursue it.”

Henry made my day, and I will pursue it. I won’t compete with Cartier-Bresson, but half the fun of photography is learning how to look more critically at the world around you, and what that reveals about yourself. It’s a short-cut into your pysche, showing you what you are drawn to, visually and emotionally.

How to take top pictures

1 Hunt hard for your subject and spend a lot of time just looking at things. The very last stage of the process is raising the camera to take the picture.

2 Look for your focal point. Tell the viewer what you want them to look at.

3 Avoid taking pictures in a standing position. Everyone sees things at eye level all the time. Look for intriguing new perspectives by crouching or standing on something.

4 Don’t be nervous of empty, or “negative”, space in a picture. This can be used to great effect.

5 Most importantly, how do you feel about your subject matter? Think about how you can communicate that to a viewer.

Need to know

Getting there A five-day photography holiday in Abruzzo with Frui (020-7241 5006, www.frui.co.uk) costs £899pp, full board, excluding flights. The next holidays are Jul 9-13 and Sep 9-13. Digital SLR cameras can be hired for £15 a day.

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