Saturday 1st August 2026

Time to move on.

Again.

As the crow, or chough flies, it was 19km to our next hotel, though that would be over Alpine peaks, our route was 80km, down the valley, then along some, then up to Val d'Isère.

On the way we would do some light orchiding. Visit another Ghost site, look for some Summer Lady’s Tresses before heading down the valley.

We had to pack of course, then load the car. And although I have only bought four bottles, our stuff now fills the boot and the back seats.

We have breakfast. Again with limited bread served to each of us in a small basket, though there is also fruit and coffee.

The first site, down a dusty track was bone dry, so there were no orchids, Ghost or otherwise.

Shame.

Then up a long and winding narrow lane to an Alpine meadow, where after parking we cross the footbridge and see the Creeping Lady’s Tresses and Broad Leaved Helleborines.

On the meadow the other side of the stream, in the hot sunshine, there were many, many butterflies, so I chased them with my camera with little success.

All back in the wagons, and down the track, steep and with hairpin bends, until we reach the main road, then it was all systems go.

And then we reached the town of Bourg-Saint-Maurice, very busy on a Saturday morning. |But it was from there that the climb, some 30km up to Val-d'Isère, from 200m to 1500m or so, or 500 feet to 6060.

Steep climbs, hairpin bends, villages perched on hillsides, and mad motorcycles overtaking us wherever they felt it right to, even when there was no space to pull in.

We stopped for lunch beside a dam, a concrete overlook, where a road crossed the dam to the town of Tignes.

Then up to Val-d'Isère where, of course, there was a festival, and the road through to our hotel was closed. There were diversions, across fields and down narrow streets, until we arrived.

Then we had to unload the car, and I find a place to park. The central car park is free in summer, and they claimed to have 113 free spaces.

I followed the diversions, past the bbq and beer stalls, bands playing oompah music, until I reached the entrance. The first two levels were full, or spaces that were there we too small because of piss-poor parking by SUV owners.

I found a space on the lowest level, then walked up, and had to walk back to the hotel, quickly, as the next tour of the day was to start at two.

I made it, and Jools had got our bags and stuff into our modern room, but it was time to leave again.

So back down to the street, into thebuses, and upwards to the orchid meadows.

The Col de l’Iseran climbs out of the town, continuing on from the one we had already travelled, until it reaches the top of the pass at 2,500m.

It is fairly narrow, lots of hairpins, and views down into the valley that get ever more alarming as you go higher and higher. And there’s no barriers, and one mistake could see you falling hundreds of metres.

At the top, it felt like we were on the roof of the world, and the car park at the top was full of bikers, mostly Belgians.

We carried on, and about two hundred metres down the other side, we pulled off and parked before the Bridge of Snow.

We had three hours to explore the meadow, and hiding in it were possibly dozens of orchids of several species, as well as other Alpine plants.

It was boggy too, and steep, but the hot weather had dried it out, and soon we got into the swing of it.

Orchids were found. So-called Vanilla ones, and Frog orchids too, but lots of other plants, some Alpine variations of stuff we know from home, or other more exotic ones.

I found a pure white variant of a Field gentian, a rare find indeed, and later would have to show jOn and the others where it was.

Also seen where Moonwort, and oh so many wonderful things, and butterflies too.

At half five we packed up and got back on the van, then began the 19km steep descent into the town.

We arrived safe and sound, then having 45 minutes before dinner on the 4th floor.

Friday 31st July 2026

Our hotel was a little idiosyncratic, the toilet had a device for mixing material up, and had just two plug sockets, so recharging batteries was difficult.

But the staff, for the most part were friendly, even if the owner was a bully to her staff, we appreciated the laughs we had.

The plan for the day was to take the chairlift to the top of the gorger, then walk up the trail to the glacial lake, then wander down looking at and snapping the flora in the verdant valley.

Only, no one told Mother nature of our plans.

We had breakfast, and were ready to go at nine. A drive to the base of the chairlift, then a ten minute ride up through the trees and fields to the base of the trail.

It was warm and the sun shone. We snapped butterflies and flowers, and it was cool enough not to need frequent water stops.

Then we began the walk up, through a trail marked by dry stone walls, and getting steeper.

After twenty minutes the first rain fell. I stopped, packed the camera away and put my rain jacket on.

I got hot, but stayed dry.

The trail got steeper, and I was left behind by the rest of the group.

The rain stopped. I took off my jacket and got out my camera.

I carried on climbing.

Then it rained again, so I stopped once more to put my jacket on, and carried on climbing, though the trail had stones, which the rain made slippery. I could others from the group at the top of the trail, it seemed I would never catch up.

I did some 4,000 steps, the rain was coming down harder, and I thought with each step up, meant there would be another back down.

I sighed, and began to walk down.

Hard at first, but the trail levelled out, and in half an hour I was back at the top of the chairlift where there was a cafe. I went in and ordered a coffee and a Coke.

A familiar figure was approaching. Jools.

I went out and greeted her, “Mon cherie!”

She joined me in a drink and a slice of walnut and syrup flan.

Others came in out of the rain to have a drink and shelter some.

The rain stopped and the sun came out. Jools went down to the village, and I went butterfly hunting, though over the mountains I could see storm clouds gathering, and we were told if there was a storm, the lift would be closed, so I went down too.

And met Jools at the bottom where we waited for the free bus back into the centre of town.

Jools went off exploring, while I found a place to sit and eat my snap.

Then back to the hotel where I wrote, listened to a pod, then had a shower.

So the afternoon passed.

We met for evening debrief and drinks, then went to dinner where wine and laughs flowed.

Thursday 30th July 2026

For all UK and most European orchidists, there is one species that stands head and shoulders above all others, and that is the Ghost.

Since 2008, just two plants have are known to have been seen in the UK, one in 2008, just after the plant was declared extinct, and the second and most recent in 2024 by a friend, Richard. Who just happens to be a tour co-leader on this tour.

In mainland Europe, populations of Ghosts are more stable, and so with some knowledge and luck you can see some. But this is 2026, the year of the drought, record temperatures through Spring and into summer. Wildfires are sweeping the continent from the highlands of Scotland, through Suffolk, Kent and onto mainland Europe through France, Spain and Italy.

Europe is burning.

And for Ghosts which like damp, moist ground to grow from, this is a problem, meaning that the still hyper-rare plant will be more elusive for us.

We began the day in a hotel at Lyon Airport. We had slept well thanks to the best air conditioning I have known, so were well rested.

We met with the rest at breakfast, then loaded the car, and they loaded the two vans.

Their first call was to see the epipacticis fibri, and as I had my shots, it was suggested we met at a town in The Alps, we could take our time, have lunch and/or a coffee. So, we programmed the village in, and set off, some two hours drive away.

All on motorways, and in glorious hot sunshine. It was already twenty five at nine in the morning, and even as the roads began to climb, it got warmer and warmer.

As we headed further east, the ground rose, and hills melted into the distance, each layer getting higher and higher.

We turned off the motorway, but continued along a valley, until we reach a large industrial town of Les Chavonnes, from there the road climbed in a proper Le Tour Col de something, into the foothills and crashing through the three thousand feet mark.

We stopped in Bozel, to stretch our legs and to get a drink. It was thirty degrees, the sun beat down in a way that made just standing still sweaty.

We had a cold drink in a cafe, watched the world go by.

A struggle up the hill to the parish church revealed a heavily painted interior, all saints and cherubs. It was most surprising in what seemed like a modest church. We rested in the cool interior until midday when the lights came on and mass was to begin.

We got news of our meeting point, we headed back down the valley, the way we came for ten miles, then turned south up a narrow twisty lane which took us over four thousand feet. It was wooded, heavily shaded.

At a lay by on a long straight road, some thirty miles from Bozel, we found the two buses, and we walked with our friends up into the woods.

In a shaded spot, hundreds of yards from the road was a banks, trees grew at the top, and the bank was covered in moss. Saplings covered much in shade, and in the deepest shade was a single Ghost.

We took turns to snap the small plant, and its three flowers. It was in good condition.

And so the quest ended in a wood, miles away from the modern world.

Afterwards we hugged and shook hands with each other, for most this was the first, and probably only time we would see one.

We walked back to the vehicles, then drove an hour to our hotel for the next two nights, me finding the last parking space in the small car park.

It was a chalet style building. Old and full of character, but the demands of the modern world and en-suite rooms meant that each room was small, but ours had a balcony overlooking the town, with the backdrop of the High Alps in the background.

For a leg-stretcher, we went up a high pass to an Alpine meadow which was full of butterflies and plants, so we wandered for a couple of hours, up the waterfall that tumbled down from the high cliffs hundred of metres above.

A small building did drinks, so we stopped for liquid refreshments. I had a 50cl beer, and in the hot late afternoon sunshine, it was delicious.

Back to the hotel for a debrief at seven, and then dinner at half past, which took the best part of three hours to complete, but was washed down with more cold beer and a half bottle of Beaujolais.

Wednesday 29th July 2026

Some of us are born delicious.

That's a fact.

And its fair to say that the flies and mosquitoes at the mill found both Jools and I delicious.

More bites showed themselves during the night, so that by morning it looked like we both had measels.

And the bites itched to buggary.

I slept poorly, a combination of the bites, and I think the litre of builder's coffee I had for breakfast.

But no matter, we only had 30 miles to drive this day, and we could take our time to check out, as the possibly planned trip to Lyon Cathedral was scrubbed due to the high temperatures of about 38 degrees forecasted.

We showered, treated the bites, then packed. Out of the window there was a modern boulangerie, so after loading the car, we walked through the security gate instead of the plastic food on offer at the hotel, and found they sold the best baguettes in the WORLD. I had a ham and cheese one, Jools had creamy chicken, and both too big for us to finish, though we did find room for a madeine.

We decided to drive to the hotel airport, we we were to meet the group for the orchid tour.

We had hoped to see something interesting on the way, somewhere where we might want to spend an hour or so.

But there was nowhere, other than to sit at a service station to eat an ice cream and listen to a podcast, until it became too hot.

I programmed our hotel into the car sat nav, and it took us there, to the small regional one. The international one was twenty minutes away, but it whiles away another forty minutes.

We arrived at the airport, and found the hotel. We were the first to arrive, we checked in, but our room wasn't ready, so we sat down to look out of the window and surf the net on our phones.

One by one tour members and guides arrived, acquaintances renewed, and new ones forged.

We had beers, tales were swapped, and life was even better.

For us early arrivals, the chance to begin the tour a day early, with a bus trip out to a small reserve beside a freight railway beside the river, half an hour's drive away.

It was hot and humid. We walked down the track, and after half an hour's searching, two weedy plants of a hugely rare endemic orchid to the valley were found, recorded and enjoyed.

Then back to the hotel via a busy motorway, traffic jams and bad driving.

To the hotel where all of the members of the tour had arrived, we met in the bar for a drink, and after introductions, we sat down for dinner.

Let the madness begin!

Tuesday 28th July 2026

It was time to leave the mill and our collection of flies and other assorted biting insects.

At least the flies slept when it was dark, as did we, but the bitey buggers didn't.

Once light, we and the flies woke up, so we went to sit by the mill pond to take in the already warm sunlight.

Over the pond, the two white horses knew breakfast was coming, and so stamped about in frustration that it was taking so long.

As ever, it was a photographic oportunity.

At eight we went for breakfast. More bread and preserves, and builder's coffee.

We paid the food and bar tab, packed the last of our stuff, cleaned our teeth and chased the last of the flies out of our cases before loading the car.

And away.

The countryside is a contrast between the lush green of the trees and hedgerows and the burnt browns of the fields and gardens, as the hot hummer has killed most plants off.

In fact it is hotting up again, 33 degrees on Tuesday, and four degrees warmer on Wednesday, but we will be off into the foothills, where it will be ten degrees cooler.

We drove to the motorway, along a secondary highway, mostly dual carriageway. Once on the motorway we filled up, then into Villefranche-sur-Saône, where our next hotel was, and where we hoped to get some washing done.

I found a place near the station, and had parking nearby. So, once parked, we walked the few yards in humid temperatures to the launderette, filled a machine, then worked out how to pay and make it work.

All simple, really.

That washing, I wandered to the station to see if there were any trains going by, not many. But snapped a couple before walking back to meet with Jools, and transfer the washing into the tumble dryer.

The only choice for parking was for seven hours, so we wandered into town to look for the cathedral.

It was a ten minute walk away, down a shopping street, its spiky west tower making where it was hiding.

Inside, it was all a bit disappointing, poor glass and few memorials, in fact it seemed mostly 19th century. I took a few shots and we went looking for somewhere for lunch.

We found a place on the side of a leafy square, took a seat under the awning and we both ordered burger, and for a me, a beer.

The food was excellent, as was the people watching, but it was hot.

We huffed and puffed our way up the hill to the station, and found inside it was like an oven.

The hotel was a short drive away, a modern place that runs with minimal staff.

We check in via a machine, to find our room was possibly still occupied.

I went back to the machine, and pressed the intercom which linked me to an office probably in Paris.

After explaining the situation, I was told the manger would be informed. And in ten seconds the manager was beside me.

He went to his office, allocated us a new room with access code, and that was that.

The hotel is in the middle of an industrial estate, there are no places to eat or drink, and the hotel only has a vending machine.

But the air con is good.

Monday 27th July

We are staying in a 16th century former water mill. Most of the ground floor is now a tack room for the riding school, but most of the gubbins is still in, among the saddles and balnkets.

We have a room and bathroom off the tack room, is is basic, but fine.

But there are flies everywhere, probabl from the horse egss that twenty or so horses produce daily.

In some ways, I'll be glad to leave.

But the host is great, the food is good and half litre of vin de table is €5.

Day eight of the road trip, though not much travel today, as have a day with nothing planned.

We lay in bed until gone seven, then up for a shower and get dressed, before crossing the courtyard to the main building for breakfast.

Breakfast was bread and preserves, and what could be best described as builder's coffee. Strong enough to stand your spoon up in!

At ten we went out, taking the paved lane to the main road, then west to see where it would take us: maybe to a wood which we could explore or take things easy and read in.

We drove for about half an hour until we came to the banks of the Loire. Sadly, the bridge was closed for repairs, but on the walk to it I saw and snapped several familiar wild flowers, and on the river bank saw and tried to snap White-legged and Blue-tailed damsels.

We walked back up the lane, in what was now quite heavy rain.

Yes, you heard that right, so heavy we took shelter halfway up the lane.

A little further along was a larger town, with an open bridge over the river.

Beside the river was a restaurant, which, after a search online was Michelin, and courses cost over €300.

We drove on.

On the way back to the farmhouse we stopped off at a supermarket and bought supplies. Chocolate covered waffles only came in packs of eight, so I guess that was four each.

Finally we saw the tower of an interesting church, D'Anzy-le-Duc, so stopped of.

And in doing so came across one of the most amazing Burgundian Romanesque churches in France. I only had my mobile, but the shots came out fine I believe.

We lazed around the mill, eat lunch, read some and watch wildlife in the mill pond. I saw four kingfishers, and Jools saw a grass snake swimming.

We ate on the terrace, sipping cheap wine poured from a jug, and ate creamy chicken and garlictomatoes, while abovw,swallows and swifts wheeled and clicked for our entertainment, and in the distance a Turtle dove purred.

Sunday 26th July 2026

Time to move on.

Again.

Seventh day of the road trip, so we load the car before breakfast, then into the bar for coffee and baguette with preserves.

The bar is full, and alive with conversation.

One last look in our room, and pack the remaining stuff, get in and set course back to the motorway.

I had noticed signs for a town on the way back south, calling Beaune, the "city of wine".

I'll be the judge of that, but as we had until four when we had to be at the next place, a detour there, a wander round, buy wine, have lunch, should do the trick.

It was a nice seventeen degrees when we left, but the temperatures soon rose into the low then mid twenties.

Traffic was heavy too, but we had all day, so cruised again at seventy, over the rolling countryside that looked lowland, but at times climbed to 1,600 feet.

We turned off towards Beaune, a series of roundabouts surrounded by modern buildings.

Into the centre and we were bouncing down cobbled streets, with all on street parking taken. Jools sees a sign for a garage, we go there, and nab a space. And it was just a ten minute walk from the centre.

Another ancient walled town, all narrow lanes, streets, timber-framed houses, and a cathedral. Though we didn't go it being Sunday.

We had a coffee, then checked out one dozens of wine shops. Burgundy is one of the world's great wines, but what I know won't fit on the back of a matchbox. I check online to see that 2022 was a great vintage, so bought a bottle for £28, and three people wrapped it, put it in a cardboard tube, then in a bag.

At midday we took seats on the street at a nice looking restaurant. We both have beuf bourguignon.

It came with noodles and a rich red wine sauce, and was delicious.

We had agreed not to have a dessert, but my mouth said crème brûlée.

And it was delicious.

Back to the car, as the town was filling up with people of one of them Viking river cruises, all following someone with an umbrella or something.

Back to the car, paid €6.00, and left. Out along cobbled alleys, then out into the suburbs, over roundabout after roundabout until we reached the motorway, and turned back south.

Nothing much exciting happened until we turned off heading west.

Along 45km of dual carriageway, then off that into the rolling farmland. Down ever narrower lanes, until we had to turn down an unpaved lane.

The track was very rough and steep downhill. The car's sat nav showed us to be well of any roads, but Google Maps showed the track. I was worried about getting another puncture like I did in Spain two years back.

That ended up at a ford, with no way of knowing how deep it was, we tried to go round, but the sat nav brought us back to the same spot.

Jools walked over to see how deep it was, then I drove over quickly, and arrived the other side safe and sound.

A mile further along was the mill, which is mainly a horseriding centre, and does B&B as a sideline.

Our host speaks no English, we only fractured French, but we made ourselves understood, and was shown to our room, through the tack room.

Dinner of cold cuts and cheese is for eight. I sat for an hour watching the river drift by, and dragons and damsels floating by in breathless air.