But, I digress.
I went into the Euros having very low expectations for England, and the draw with France proved just one thing; that the manager knows his tactics, when he knows his team is not as good as the opposition, defend in depth and with discipline. Against Sweden, England had Andy Carrol playing up front, and he did score a fine headed goal. But other than that, the first half was pretty even, and then in the second half, England just left their concentration in the dressing room and were soon 2-1 down thanks to two particular pieces of dreadful defending. And then, Theo came on, swung his boot and scored a fluked deflected goal, and finally Danny Welbeck scored a stunning winner with the sole of his boot to win the game for England. For each goal I said the same thing: “Where did that come from?” as I could not see England scoring. Shows what I know.
So, instead of watching the final part of BBC4’s story of punk, we taped it to watch another day. Ah yes, punk. As it was 35 years since ‘God Save the Queen’ did, or did not hit number 1, what better time to reflect on what punk left us. And it was fun I have to say. Late, middle aged men, and women, talking about events that few attended, but many claimed to have been there. Events that few outside their circle felt and yet did change the way the record industry operated. How to form a band when you couldn’t play; how to release your own records and get someone else to sell then in a shop and sing about your, and the audience’s situation rather than about ‘love.
’ Thankfully, much film has survived, and it was good to see how punk began with its roots in the pub rock scene, how little difference there was from the raw R&B of Dr Feelgood to the anger of the Pistols. The only complaint was the rush through the second part which went from the first Damned, and punk, release to the end of the Pistols in 78. So much happened, and changed, that I feel some more could be said. But then the last part showed what happened after punk; post punk. And once again it was glorious stuff; Wire, Magazine, PIL, etc. What to do with Friday nights from now on? Oh year, football. At least for two more weeks…….
Saturday morning, after a lazy breakfast of two pots of coffee and two huge croissants. Dunked into the coffee of course. And then we went out looking for trains.
Again.
We headed to Chartham to see a railrour pass through. Yes, more trains. This time it was not a steam tour, but two class 20s. Class 20s are nicknamed wardrobes for their boxiness, and it is well earned; but then it was the first time a tour hauled by them had been into Kent. So, there we both were along with three other photographers waiting on a bridge in a rainstorm. Well, it rained a bit, but the clouds were waiting to deposit more on us later.
br /> After the 20 minute wait, the tour passed in what, 20 seconds? And then we got back into the car and headed to the woods. Denge Woods.
We were off to hunt for an even rarer butterfly than we saw last week. The Duke of Burgundy Fritillary is a tiny but incredibly rare UK butterfly, and is found in two locations deep in Denge Wood. I got directions to one of them, and so on Saturday afternoon we parked beside a very minor b road and after unpacking the camera, we set off along a track into the trees.
Sadly, the wind was blowing, and blowing hard enough to make the trees deep in the woods sway. And so the chances of seeing any butterflies would be remote, let alone see the DoB. However, once we got along the track, the floor of the woods were covered in orchids. There is nothing quite like an orchid, and to see so many is wonderful. The closer we looked, the more different varieties we saw. I guess it was six or seven, and I snapped at least four of them, if not five: Common Spotted, Lady, Greater Butterfly and a few Chalk Fragrant Orchids were scene. I know there were Pyramidal, and some white ones that may be another species again.
We had got soaked walking along the path, but soon enough the sun came out and we dried off, and the sun shone down through the canopy of leaves. It was wonderful. I know that’s a word I use often, but something as simple of that can be enjoyable.
It was nearly six by the time we got home, time enough to make dinner and sit down to watch the football; the final round of group games in each group now take place at the same time thus freeing up two hours of each evening!
Sunday morning, and Jools had to go to Folkestone to take part in a charity run in aid of cancer research. I took her and two of her friends in the car, dropped them off and then headed up on the downs to look down over the Channel Tunnel and maybe see some more orchids and maybe an adder.
However, before then there was the mystery of the bird.
Or was it a mouse?
Well, we woke up to see the kittens looking at the cooker. So, they had brought in something and it had escaped, but what to do? Wait. I heard scratching, and a pointed nose with whiskers was looking for a way out via the back grille of the cooker.A mouse then?
A few moments later it made a dash; it was a rat. And pissed off, squeaking for all its might. It ran back to the cooker. Ten minutes later, lots more squeaking from the utility room, and upon investigating I see two fascinated cats looking at a rat, on its back lets jumping and squeaking. I looked for a towel to throw over it, but it ran back to the cooker.
In the end, Jools left the back door open and it ran out; followed by Scully. We didn't see it again, but there was some intestine left by the dining room table later.
After parking the car and walking along the path, I saw more orchids. Not next to the path, but down on steep escarpments falling away down to the tunnel below. I saw several Been Orchids, and so I had to snap them, and climbed down a few metres, got onto my belly and took my shots. And it was worth it; by, was it worth it! I walked further round and saw more Pyramidals and Common Spotted, but what really took my eye was the view. I watched as the shadows from the clouds ran across the land and up to me, trains came and went to France below, and traffic roared up and down the motorway and into the tunnels into Round Hill. I sat down and watched the scene below for a while, until I saw a Eurostar come heading into view in the far distance, and then get ever closer before disappearing into the tunnel way below me.
I went back to the car and went into the centre of town to wait for Jools and her friends to finish the run. And then we headed back to Dover and then to home.
We had decided to go back to Denge in the afternoon, but as it would have taken four hours out of the day, and so we chose to relax, and I spent the afternoon listening to Danny Baker and editing photographs; not a bad idea.
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