Wednesday 25th June 2025

The sun and gentle breezes returned.

Jools had yoga and then a dental appointment, followed by chiropractor appointment later in Canterbury, after dropping her in town at eight, I was free to do what I wanted.

With the main orchid season now coming to a quick end due to the still hot and dry conditions, why not go back up the downs one last time?

Why not indeed.

With Chaplins still closed, I thought breakfast at the greasy spoon on Stone Street would be the next best thing.

A greasy spoon is a food wagon or hut, beside the road offering quite unhealthy, but filling food.

I drove up the A20 to Folkestone, then to Hythe on the motorway before heading up Stone Street, pulling over at the lay by with the wagon.

I ordered jumbo sausage and bacon French stick and a tea, and once cooked sat on the plastic seats to eat and drink, whilst watching the working people go about their chores.

That eaten, I try to get to Hastingleigh, made difficult by multiple road closures for resurfacing.

I make it to the tiny lay by, park, and grabbing my camera and walking pole, climb the stile and clamber through the wood, whilst the ground steeply rose beneath my feet.

The crosswort had gone to seed and was turning brown, but Scabious was everywhere, that and Lady's bedstraw too.

I climbed up and up, my eye caught by a Marbled White hanging from a stem of grass.

She had just emerged from her chrysalis, and was drying her wings having pumped them full of blood.

I got down and got as close to a butterfly as I ever have.

Further up the down, the sward was covered with a carpet of Common centaury, Yellow wort, small-sized Pyramidals, all being buzzed by more Marbled Whites, Meadow Browns among others.

But I only had eyes for the tell tale pink sepals of the Late Spiders. And the end of June is as late as it can get to see Late Spiders, especially after the long dry Spring we had. But hope springs that the rain twelve days ago on the 13th could have triggered new spikes to flower.

I think I saw over 60 spikes, then in two square metres alone, and some of impressive size with eleven flowers, though the lower eight had burned off.

I snapped loads. I won't lie, but then this is the last trip up the downs this year, at least to see this Ophrys species.

90 minutes later, I was done. Hot and bothered.

I didn't need to go to another site, but in the end I did anyway.

I drove back to Stone Street, along a road that coming the other way had road closed signs, but this way didn't.

Readers, I saw no roadworks on that road.

Then along Stone Street before turning off, and a mile further on, parking.

It was now one. The clouds and mist of earlier had cleared, and so was hot, with little in the way of breeze to cool the walker or orchidist.

Its a long haul up the track, climbing all the while, not steep, but steep enough.

On the far side, I began to search the lower slopes, and was rewarded with about ten spikes, including a probable LSO x Bee hybrid, making the trek worthwhile.

A few other spikes were recorded, while overheard a buzzard called to its mate.

I sat down to admire te view, now hazy, but the ground falling away to the coast, just out of sight. I could sit here all day and just take in the sights and sounds of nature.

But I was thirsty.

And there was the possibility of picking up Jools from Canterbury.

I walked back to the car, easier going downhill, turned round, drove back to Stone Street, then up to Lower Hardres for a drink or two at the Granville.

Reception had been impossible on the downs, but from the beer garden with a pint of Coke and a pint of Czech Pilsner, I called Jools to find she was ready.

I downed the Coke, tried with the beer, and got half of it down, before leaving for the car and the short drive to Bridge before taking the road into Canterbury.

And there was Jools walking beside the road, so I went to the park and ride roundabout, doubled back and stopped so she could get in.

Back home then for a relaxing rest of the afternoon and evening.

Back home too for tart and coffee, then to review my shots of the orchids.

Shall we have salad or fish and cips?

Salad.

But now you said fish and chips, I want fish and chips.

So, I went to get the golden fried food just after four when the chippy had just opened. With Dover gridlocked, I went to Walmer, found a parking space.

Crossed the road, into the shop where there was queue.

Large cod. Two jumbo sausages. Large chips. Breaded roll.

A huge order for two people, but we hadn't eaten since breakfast.

Once cooked I rushed home so the batter would still be crispy, which it was.

Along with fresh brews we ate well, but neither could clear our plate. Mulder had the leftover fish, for which he was happy.

We ate early so we could be all done before the England U21s lined up against the Netherlands. Having already dispatched the favourites, Spain, in the last round, England outplayed the new favourites to win 2-1, and to set up the final against Germany who beat France 3-0 in the evening.

An altogether splendid day, ended with a wee dram of fine Irish red Spot whiskey.