Somebody has been a cheeky monkey.

As you may be able to tell, the gentleman behind the camera in the purple fleece is yours truly. To my left, in his running gear (I left mine at home), is fellow journalist Richard. In front of us is the centenarian marathon runner I wrote about here.

Behind us, as has now become apparent, was a man with a digital camera. And he is now selling photos of the event (including some much better than the above, of our marathon runner in front of Big Ben) via the website Scoopt.

Scoopt - tagline "Sell your pictures to the press" - is a picture agency promising to take pictures from members of the public and flog them to newspapers and websites. It is a front for market leading photo agency Getty Images, and most of the good Scoopt photos end up on Getty's pages. (Several of the photos of our marathon runner are now available via Getty.)

I now find that the best I can do is download a photo of myself, taken without my permission, with a bloody Scoopt watermark all over it. Oh, the harsh trappings of fame.

It is difficult to preach from any kind of moral or logical high ground about privacy when one is one half of a camera crew, standing on the banks of the Thames opposite the Houses of Parliament, filming in broad daylight.

But is it any wonder people sometimes get a little narked by photographers? This gentleman must have sidled on up unannounced, taken a load of photos, then nipped off to try to flog them to anyone who cares.

On the Scoopt website these are listed as shots from a "photocall" with the marathon runner. Photocall, my posterior. It was a BBC filming session and nobody else had any sort of call about it, photo or otherwise. Clearly there is no box to tick for "opportunistic click-and-run operation".

This only adds to the surreal episode on the banks of the Thames, which had us as the primary film crew, a pair of Swedish cameramen filming us filming, and a photographer with his wits about him, capturing us filming on film.

At least the photographer's keenness to get the shots indicates my plan to film in front of Parliament did indeed offer some arresting visuals. Obviously taking photos of something like this is really incredibly harmless... but I can start to appreciate how lurking photographers could quickly get annoying.

Our finished video piece is now available online, by the way. You can watch it here. I have been asked to point out that the horrendous pun with which the piece finishes is entirely my responsibility. You can read Richard's written piece about the day here.