Thursday 16th July 2026

The weeks still rattle by, and make it even more manic, we are going away in four days.

Although most preparations are done, there will be the great cat round up on Monday morning before we can load up the car and leave.

It would be easy to let phys slip this week, what with it being so hot and humid. I feel bad enough not doing a full forty minutes, doing just thirty five these days.

But upon our return, we shall get back on the straight and narrow, and do even more than before.

And this day came after England's exit from the World Cup. As always with England, the media and fans, expectations were high, too high to be met. And in the final quarter on Wednesday, England were just outplayed and too passive.

But the sun rose still Thursday morning, and life is still good.

I did not want to get up at five to go to the gym, but did. Cats were fed, coffee made, and we were five minutes late leaving the house, so that the centre was open when we arrived. We went up to the gym and got to work on the bikes.

The air con in the gym is great, except in the corners, which is where the two bikes are, so it is warm even before you begin to turn the peddles.

We stood outside for ten minutes to cool down, then drove to Tesco for a few things and to fill up the car. Back home for a brew and breakfast.

Time for a shower, shave and change of clothes, before out again, this time to Deal to get some medical supplies for the trip, then at midday go to the chippy for lunch.

We will be away for nearly four weeks, so need stuff to cover all bases, including factor 50 sun block as we'll be at over 2,000m at times, then in Spain which could be hotter than the surface of the sun.

In a break from the usual, I have cod instead of skate, which is what I fancied for a change.

The shop soon filled up, but we had our table in the corner so we could people watch both inside and out.

The town was filling up, as to be expected for a seasidey town in July, so we walk back to the car and drive home. Skipping an ice cream.

Just be coincidence, Le Tour started a few minutes before we got home, so with a fresh brew I sat down to watch, and try to stay awake.

Another lightning quick stage, with a bunch finish and a huge crash in the last 500m.

Phew.

For the evening, we had tickets for a show: Arthur Smith and Phil Nice at the Aster.

It was a pleasant evening for a drive along to coast through Walmer and into Deal. The Just Reproach was full, so we skip a swifter and walk round to the theatre, and after showing our tickets, we go to the bar for a quick drink.

Arthur and Phil were of the generation before the 80s alternative comedy, so started in a review when there wasn't really a Fringe", they then formed a double act, had a couple of TV series where they did spoof travel and history shows, decades ahead of the curve, then split up at the end of the 80s.

The show was a muse on age and growing old. rowing old in an ever changing world, and the difficulties in maintaining friendships. It was pretty good.

But the air con had been switched off, so that by the interval it was like a swamp, so I stood outside and watched the boy-racers tear up and down the short street, impressing the nesting pigeons.

There was a brief Q&A, then all over, we walked back to the car and home.

Time for a night cap, and then to bed.

Thomas Tuchel: what now

Do I think Thomas Tuchel should be replaced?

If the answer is yes, then the next question would be, who would you put in his place?

There is a certain Pep who has no job at the moment, though he may want some time off after his decade at Citeh.

As I have remarked before, its not as though England appoint the same kind of manager. Over the years they have tried just about everything, and the one who worked was the guy promoted from coaching the U21 side.

Thomas Tuchel had a different approach to Southgate, with the expectations that the German's approach would result in England being able to cope with the pressures of leading big games and seeing them out to win.

That did not happen.

I guess my point is that although results have improved, and England in most tournaments get at least to the quarter finals, what they do when they get there ends up with the same results: play well then retreat further and further back.

And furthermore, Tuchel seems to be suggesting that the players didn't follow his game plan. And yet it was Tuchel who made those poorly thought out substitutions, which meant England would really struggle to mount attacks if Argentina levelled in the closing stages.

There is to be a review, and the BBC is reporting that players are unhappy with the negative tactics Tuchel employed. So it is possible that a few months after signing a contract extension, he may be gone.

Or not.

Of Thomas Tuchel and bitter disappointment

Last night, England conceded two goals in the final ten minutes of their game with Angentina, to crash out again at the semi-final stage.

Tuchel was employed to win the 2026 World Cup, and to ensure, in exactly this kind of situation, being a goal up in the latter stages of a game, being abler to close out the result at win.

He failed to do that.

In fact, his England side bottled it even more than those under Southgate. Falling back to defend deeper and deeper.

Like they did against Mexico and Norway.

England hung on in those two games, but to defend half an hour, an Argentine side looking to win back to back cups, was always going to be a tall order.

On those final twenty minutes, Argentina scored twice, hot the post twice, and Pickford saved two headers on the line. It could and should have been a heavier defeat.

In the 35 minutes between England scoring and the end of the game, England enjoyed just 19% possession.

Tuchel's substitutions were defensive players replacing attacking ones, so that when Argentina did level, there wasn't the players on the pitch for England to fight back.

Tuchel had one job: not to repeat Southgate's mistakes. But he did, and more.

Better to live one day as a lion, than a life as a mouse.

Argentina wanted to win from the start, I heard to described as they went into the game prepared for a knife fight, while England saw it as a step to the final. A friendly referee didn't punish repeated fouls on England, so they were emboldened. Breaking up England's play, so it became a battle, one that meant England tired.

But they did score. A fine goal, but then sat on it, invited pressure. Invisted Messi to play by ceeding space and time for him to pick out passes.

And punish.

Harry Kane will be 36 at the next tournament, and he has hinted he would be too old. What will England do without him?

Wednesday 15th July 2026

There are some 28 native Kent orchid species that in most years you can see. If you know where to go and when.

There are orchids for most habitats: down, meadow, dunes, fields, and woods. Many are showy, others less so, but even the tiny Musk has a certain charm. If you get close enough.

But there is one that disappoints almost every time. Doubly so it is found only in at one site in north Kent, and as it has learned to self-pollenate, its flowers rarely ever open.

It is small, straggly, usually covered by ants, and is found now at just one location, in a lay by on a minor A-road between two picturesque villages.

Epipactis phyllanthes, aka The Green-flowered helleborine, aka the Green-flowered disappointment.

And I had not made the trip since 2021, and vowed not to go again.

There are, however, other things of interest in the area: the lavender fields, Dark Green fritillary butterfly, and Lullingstone church perhaps.

And on the way we go go to The Larches for some BLH action, and maybe Yellow birdsnests too.

So, I got the gang together, and all was set for Wednesday morning.

I dropped Jools off in town for her class, then scuttled back home for breakfast and tidy up. Iain arrived at ten past nine, then on route to collect Fran from the station, we picked up Jools.

So by half nine we were heading up Old Folkestone Road to join the A20, thus missing out the port and any possible delays.

Then it was a cruise up through Folkestone and Ashford, through Operation Brock contraflow, before finally turning up Detling Hill, and easing onto Pilgrim's Way, where we stop by the reserve entrance.

The Larches is well known, I guess, but for the first time visitor, the large sign for it is now hidden behind vegetation, so would be difficult.

Then along the path beside the road for five minutes, no real indication that there would be any open space, until you reach a crossing of paths, and in front is the meadow-cum-clearing.

Our first task was to turn left to look for the Yellow birdsnest under the canopy of some large trees, and in deep leaf litter we find three emerging spikes, in no better condition that the ones we found at Barham earlier in the week.

After snapping those, we turn round and walked back to the clearing, taking the side track to the upper gate, and from there I could see an amazing almost yellow BLH spike.

BLH are a variable species, with size, spike density, flower colour and so on differs from plant to plant, but here there are almost green ones all the way through to dark flowered spikes, almost chocolate-coloured.

Fran spots and snaps her first Chalkhill blue of the year, but it flies away when it sees my DSLR, as they always seem to do.

Then walk to the first of the orchids, getting some fine close ups with spikes covered in ants, and some with drunken wasps crawling among the flowers, their heads overed in pollen.

Huge amounts of St John's Wort covered the ground, and elsewhere, Ploughman's spikenard was coming into flower, though plants less vigorous than in previous years.

By the trees, there were many more BLH spikes, including the fine spike with Variegated basal leaves.

Finally, to the other path running along the bottom of the meadow, where there were dozens more spikes of BLH, some chocolate brown, and some green, many between the two.

An amazing visit.

We walk back to the car, then out back onto Detling Hill, turning down towards Maidstone, then back onto the motorway towards London.

We turn off just before it joins the M25, and turn back down the hill, across two roundabout before taking the turning to Eynsford.

Through the village, which is clogged with traffic caused by delivery vehicles, delivering. But out the other side, we pull up at the lay by.

On the left hand side, there were perhaps a dozen small plants, some with malformed spikes, those with normal flowers were closed tightly shut.

We take pictures, then I go to explore the bank to see if the colony had spread. I do find two spikes of a helleborine, but think they were of a BLH. Apparently there were more plants there, but I was away of Jools, Fran and Iain waiting on the road below, so I walk back.

From there it's a short drive to the next lay by, where from the opposite verge you can get a free view of the lavender fields.

The field has several people in, enjoying the scent and sight of the huge field. We take shots then get back in the car and drive to the country park.

Living here, on a bank beside a golf fairway is a large colony of butterflies, Dark green fritillaries, as species I have seen in Northumberland, but not in Kent.

From the café, it is a long walk up the down, through the wood, then along one fairway before crossing it by the tee, then if clear, across the second fairway to the bank.

The clouds of earlier had cleared, and it was now hot, so we sweated our way to the bank, and began to look.

Out target is a large orange butterfly, and should have been obvious, and in good numbers. But we see none. Nor do we see any Marbled whites either, just lots of Meadow browns and Gatekeepers, with a few newly emerged Common blues being very active.

We also come across a damselfly, a Wite-legged damsel, right on top of the down, a mile from the stream far below. We get shots.

We looked for an hour, then with time ebbing away, we walk back to the café, where we buy drinks and sit in the shade.

It was by now three, and the visit to the church was scrubbed, as the gates to the castle were locked. Although as we drove through Eynsford, I saw a sign over the old packhorse bridge and ford pointing the way to it.

I was set for home, however, and we made good time back to the motorway, where we could have turned onto the M25 in either direction, or back down to M20 to home.

We went south.

On the way we dropped Fran off at Faversham, then down the A2 in light traffic to Dover and home.

11,000 steps done, and hot and bothered. And hungry.

I cook breaded chicken, lentils, and peas & sweetcorn, rustled up in half an hour.

And then, eyes down for the big game, which kicked off at eight: England v Argentina.

Tuesday 14th July 2026

Tuesday again.

And as usual, it is up with the larks to go to the gym sharpish.

This was made easier as my stupid brain woke me up at three, and did not want to let me go back to sleep.

So I was first up, so test and jab Scully, then feed her and the rest, before filling and boiling the kettle for that first coffee of the day.

Always the best.

Off to the gym, and it was packed, at least waiting to go in as there were parents and kids waiting to get into the pool, they went right to the changing rooms, and we went left and up the stairs.

I get my favourite machine, set up a podcast and began to peddle.

Although it seemed to be cool outside, it was humid enough inside, and soon it was uncomfortable. So I did thirty five minutes again, which I decide was close enough.

Back down to the car, drive home. I sat outside to cool down, and Jools brought me a fresh brew to enjoy in the cool of the morning.

Jools was gone at seven, as the car needed an oil change, so it told us, so she dropped the car off then walked to the centre for her class.

I would stay home and chill, have a shower and shave.

And was human again.

With the wind set in the north-east, clouds remained all day, so was cool and pleasant, which was very nice.

At midday, eyes down for the depart of Le Tour, a monster stage over the Massif Central, with hardly any flat ground all 180 km.

Phew, I worn out watching it, so how they felt in that is another matter.

And then, to the World Cup.

Spain v France, and what should have been a classic, two evenly matched teams.

But was transpired was Spain not letting France getting into their stride, closing down players, and scoring goals.

Scoring goals wins games.

Spain cantered to a 2-0 win, and France lost, on Bastille Day as well.

Monday 13th July 2026

Monday rolls round again.

And as ever, my brain has me awake before five, though I lay back down after checking the time, and fall back to sleep.

A nice quiet morning in which to wake up, drink coffee, before being dropped off in Deal by Jools at half seven, as I had an appointment with the pediatrist.

So, with fifty minutes to kill, Jools dropped me off near to where The Berry used to be, so I could cut across the grass to the promenade, and walk towards the pier, looking for botanical delights to snap.

Most people out at that time are dogwalkers and joggers.

And me.

I am careful when I cross the cycle-lane to check both ways lest be run down or be shouted at by some lycra-clad buffoon.

But nothing exciting happened to recount.

I walked to the castle, past the fishing fleet grounded on the shingle beach before turning inland towards the clinic.

My feet were checked, nails cut and the rest, while I talk about moths to the nurse.

Jools had suggested I might like to catch the bus home rather than wait for her, as she had to take Cleo and Poppy to the vets for their six-monthly check-up.

I said I'd think about it.

But needed a hair cut, as our trip to southern Europe is a week away, and I didn't want to be wearing a bearskin in forty degree heat.

The first barber I came to had a seat free, so I go in, tell him to make it short, and he gets to work with his shears.

Not as meticulous as the one in Dover or Folkestone I go to normally, but the aim was to be shorn, and shorn short.

C/out satis.

I went to Greggs to get something for lunch: a four pack of sausage rolls would do, then wander to the small bus station.

I say bus station, its a double long bus stop, that clearly used to be busier, but now just has services to Dover or Sandwich, and buses to St Maggies leave hourly, or is it two-hourly?

Anyway, it was due to leave at ten.

It pulled in a two minutes to ten, and five of us got on it, costing me three pounds, for which I got a mystery tour round the housing estates of Walmer.

Which was nice.

Back home for a late breakfast and a fresh hot brew, and then time for some light orchiding.

The season is drawing to an end, but with four more species, possibly, to see, we would be heading back to Barham.

First of all, we stop at Hearts Delight Lane, and walk up hoping to see some Broad-leaved helleborines. There used to be dozens here, but we found just one in flower, with several blind spikes in the undergrowth.

But no Yellow birdsnests.

Further along we stop at the dog-walker's wood, and after some searching find about eight Yellow birdsnest spikes, though most were already going brown soon after emerging.

Then to our favourite wood, and the long walk up the path up the down, with gnarled old trees on the left, and majestic beech trees reaching for the sky on the other.

One last push up the steep slope, then began the hunt, using coordinates from previous years after not finding any, I do find three spikes near to where they had been previously.

Further searching revealed three more clumps, the last one with an upright spike with flowers just beginning to open.

We drive back home, getting back at just after one. But what is this? No cycling or football?

Le Tour is on a rest day, and the semi-finals of the World Cup begin on Tuesday.

Outside the wind turned to the north east, clouds rolled in, and it got almost chilly. Doors were closed and thoughts about putting a jumper on.

We had a snack for tea, and to be honest, I was pretty tired. So at eight went for a shower and so went to bed.

It was dark by quarter to nine, and I was asleep soon after.

Sunday 12th July 2026

Due to the late night previously, caused by football, I skipped phys this Sunday.

The plan had been to lay in.

I heard Jools get up at half five to feed the cats, would I go back to sleep?

Yes I would.

In fact I slept until quarter to nine.

Almost tea time!

And then lay in bed until my woolly head cleared.

No much to fill the day with, just go to see Jen as we had not seen her since she came back from Sylv's last weekend, mainly because she's been watching Wimbledon, and I have been watching Le Tour.

She was finishing painting her dining room, after the wallpaper didn't look good.

So, it smelt of wet paint as there was wet paint. Makes sense.

We talk, have a brew and so catch up.

But time was getting on. The depart was at half twelve, and we had to get back to have lunch and then retire to the sofa to enjoy a 185km race across the Massive Centrale. Up and down all afternoon long.

After the end of the stage, I went to the end of our road and to the bottom of Station Road to snap a fine clump of Common ragwort, which had caught my eye earlier.

That done we could think about supper of party food and tapas. And a beer, before weariness overcame us and we went to bed at half eight.

What would we do on Monday without football or Le Tour as it was the first rest day?