Friday 4th July 2025

(Formally Independence Day (USA))

I have nightmares still of school trips to the Norfolk Show in the 1970s, mud, rain, tractors. So, when Jools said she and her sister were going to the Kent show, I bailed.

Which meant I would have the day, and car, to myself, once she left at nine.

It is only the bin day that makes us keep track of days now. Friday is bin day, and yoga day for Jools. I woke hearing her drive off in the car, so I get up, get dressed and go down to put the bins out. We were pretty much last to do this in the street, but still in plenty of time.

When Jools comes back from yoga, we have breakfast, and then she is getting ready and gone to wait at the end of the street for Cath to pick her up.

I do the washing up, and then ponder how to spend the day.

Orchids for sure, but then there are few in flower now. So, a return to Sandwich Bay to see the Marsh helleborines at their peak seemed perfect.

A pleasant drive along the Sandwich Road, round Eastry and into Sandwich, taking the road through the estate out to Sandwich Bay, finding a parking spot at the observatory.

Would I do just orchids, or wander to the dragonfly ponds as well?

We shall see.

I passed the bird ringers crossing the meadow that is yet to be harvested for hay. They seemed to be in good spirits and we passed the time of day with a smile.

I entered the meadow by the proper gate, and first of all thought all the orchids had gone over. But soon saw over by the far fence a show of creamy white where the thickest groups of Marsh Helleborines.

So I go over.

Mainly checking for any pale of green spikes, showing those lacking colour, but almost all were of uniform colour, if not size and spike density.

I snap an Essex skipper feeding on one spike, and on another a Common Soldier beetles was climbing over the flowers.

I snap them both.

Then round the corner for the Yellow Bartisia, which are now in full flower and looking glorious. I also find for Helleborines that have spread too.

There is a folk and ale fair on in Sandwich, staring on the 4th, so I thought I would try to find a parking space and get some early beers and ales to take home.

Before I left, I went into the observatory for an ice cream, and was sitting outside finishing it off when the lady on the desk came out with a young man trailing:

"You know about plants, this gentleman is asking where the Marsh helleborines are".

I offered to show him. I mean you can never have enough orchids, can you?

I began to talk to Steve, and turns out he reads the blog: always amazes me when I find new people who do, but there you go. And he had read my last account of my visit here, and thought he would try to find them.

So, we walked back over the road, through the meadow and past the ringing cages to the meadow, where I got his shots, and we shared some information.

Which was very much appreciated.

Sharing the knowledge, where possible, and passion is what had re-enthused me with orchids and makes all the admin on the FB group worthwhile.

We walk back to the observatory, and I climb into the car after we had shook hands, I drove to the Quayside, where there was a surprising number of free parking spaces.

I walk into the centre of town, and get talking to an old boy who had a t shirt on for the festival. I ask if there is anything open, or stalls to buy stuff.

No, they're setting up the stage in front of the Guildhall, and it all begins at six.

Bugger.

At least that explains the free parking spaces.

I walk round the town, nothing I really need, and our friend and Tiger trip arranger, John, wasn't in his shop either.

So I walk back to the Quay via a narrow alley way, taking shots of course. Then I remember the chippy and how fine they frying fish and chips smelt.

So, I order a portion of chips, shake on lots of salt and vinegar, then sit outside to enjoy them with a can of pop, and watch the word go by.

That's living alright.

I walk to the car, then drive home, taking my time, as I had all day, getting back just before two.

I had put away the washing up and fed Scully when Jools arrived back, carrying twelve bottles of cider.

We had a brew.

Then relaxed as the afternoon turned to evening. I did the music quiz and came 9th, only ten of us got the right answer, so happy with that.

And as soon as that was done, back into the car to go out.

We had tickets for the Dover Proms, and we were to meet Sean and Ange in the Hoptomist for a swifter before.

It is hard to explain what the Proms, or Promenade Concerts (to give them their proper name), is a series of concerts for the masses that take place at the Royal Albert Hall, culminating with the "Last Night of the Proms", which used to take place the same week as my parent's wedding anniversary in September.

Its all flag-waving and singing along. Used to like it, then didn't for a while. Liked it after the London Olympics, but the jingoism after the Brexit vote makes it unbearable.

At least one woman in the choir waved an EU flag as well as an Union Jack.

I assumed that we had assigned seats: we didn't, so we were scatted all around the Hall as we arrived quite late. Sean and Ang did get to sit together, and Jools and I were on the same row, though five seats apart.

Maison Dieu has just been renovated. Or at least the main hall is complete, all newly painted and cleaned, fitted with new lights.

It looked wonderful

It was a good, local concert, one of the brass section of the orchestra was struggling with the high notes, which did jar somewhat, but he did his best and hopefully will get better.

Most of the players were in their 60s, 70s or 80s, so what happens to such events when they get too old. And my four tuba lessons won't stand me in any great stead.

It all wrapped up at ten with Land of Hope and Glory, aka Pomp and Circumstance Number One in D. Flags waved, people swayed. Huge applause at the end and we could leave.

Ten in the evening in towns is an odd time, at least it wasn't quite dark, but a band in the Prince Albert was having a stab at The Cranberries "Zombie".

I'm pretty sure its dead now.

Down by the Market Square, a couple of new bars were doing good business, but 'Spoons, people were raucous and quite drunk.

But happy enough. We walked back to the car, and I drove us home. Where Scully was still hungry.