And back to work.
Writing this now, Monday seems a lifetime ago, as I have since spent a day orchid hunting, travelled to London and then on to Sweden, did an audit, and then travelled back. All in something like four days.So,Monday, being a normal day at the office, was as normal as it was going to get.
We get up early and have to be out of the house by seven, so Jools can make the bus from B&Q to Canterbury and onto her office. I drive on through the light traffic to Ramsgate and the usual stuff. The monkeys are just leaving to go offshore, but I exchange banter with them, and they seem in good spirits.
I settle down to a day of work, pinging e mails back to the senders and ending up by tackling the travel expenses. With the travelling I am doing now, this is serious and tricky stuff. But then again, its never as bad as you think it is.
I have a doctors appointment late in the day, so I leave the office early and head to St Margaret's to see the quack. I have allergies, nothing more can be done. Get rid of the carpets, and that sort of thing. I pick up my month's supply of drugs and head to Canterbury to collect Jools before heading to Pegwell Bay to check on the Marsh and Bee orchids. Hardly any showing, and certainly no bees, but then it is still early.
I was going to go to the CAMRA meeting, but time slipped away from me, and for Jools too. And in the end I slumped at the table and edited photos. But tomorrow I have the day off and there will be orchids.
Tuesday.
Despite being on holiday, if only for a day, I am up with the larks so to take Jools to the bus stop so she can go to work as normal. I head back home and the plan was for me to pack and get ready for my trip to Sweden, as I would have to leave for London that evening as my flight was early the next morning. However, I am very good at getting diverted, and soon I am lost in my own world of photography and music, and fail to notice the time slipping by.
At the last minute I go to pack my bag and find I cannot find my passport. It's not in its normal place in the drawer, nor is it in the pouch in my work bag.
PANIC!
I rush round looking, checking and swearing, only to find it ten minutes later in a different drawer. By now my brain is fried and I have convinced myself I am going to be late in meeting the others at Sandwich Bay. You see today was the day of the big orchid hunt/safari, and myself and others in our Flickr group were going to go on the grand tour of Kent orchid sites.
Meet at ten.
Only I had convinced myself it was now meeting at nine, so rushed out without making any sandwiches, making a drink. I was a mess. But I did remember my cameras.
When I got to the bird observatory, only Mark was there, so we chatted until the others turned up. Then we had to decide the plan for the day, something which had been missing up to that point. As the weather was supposed to get worse from the west later in the day, best head there first.
However, as the Birds-nests were so close, it was decided to go there as most of the group had never seen those before. So it was a short drive to the triangular wood, we parked in the village and walked up. We were all still thrilled that the meet up had actually happened, and so in good spirits.
Once we got our shots there, it was off to see the famous Kentish Monkeys. I won't go into the detail of the trip, but the four cars sped cross-country, passing picturesque villages and wonderful countryside.
The down is still not at its best, with the Early Purples having almost died out and the Monkeys are still opening up, plus the other mid-season orchids, the Common Spotted and Fragrants are some way off still. So, we snapped a few Monkeys and then headed off to another down, this time to see the Flys.
However, sensing time was short for me, what with travel with work, Mother's birthday and visits from friends, I thought I would head off to see if the Late Spiders were open at a site I know, whilst the others headed to fly country. We were to meet up at another site to see the Ladys and Greater Butterflys, and maybe a Duke or two.
I headed across the country, just a few miles, but by narrow twisty lanes, could I remember where the site was? Well, after one wrong turn, I found myself driving along a familiar lane under the lea of the down, and in a bend in the road, I saw the style over the fence. This is the place.
About seven of the Late Spiders were open, so I snapped each one of them in turn, although the angle of the sun made it difficult, but in the sunshine the colours were just incredible.Having got my shots, I realise I was now hungry, and so headed back to the others via a cheeky little pub I know on Stone Street.
The Granville did not have the home made scotch eggs on the menu, but I have a fine plate of pate and toast, washed down with a pint of Early bird, which was just as good. And I was ready for yet more orchids.
I made my way to the dead-end lane, parked at the end and walked down the path and lane to the top of the bank, dodging the wood ants nest I make my way down to find I am alone. I snap a Duke and then go to check out the greater Butterflys, as I have snapped so many ladys already this season.
As I am snapping away, I hear voices: it is the others arriving. We wander round getting our shots, me helping some of the others find a Duke to snap. As I looked on at the others, the skies darkened and soon enough rain began to fall. We made our way back to the car, and looking at the time I see I have a couple of hours before I have to pick up Jools, so agree to head to the downs near the coast for another of the lte Spider sites.
A quick blast down the old Roman Road, along the motorway, and soon we are climbing the downs on a narrow lane. We park at a place that looks the same as any of the down along the road, stretching for many miles, but the orchids like it here, just along from where we park.
In fact the Late Spiders are restricted to an area about 10m long, and that is it, but as tightly packed. Even in the poor light they look great, and we take many more shots. I look at my watch, it is time to go. I have to collect Jools, we have to have dinner, I have to catch a train and head to the club in London.
I bid my friends farewell, and head back towards Canterbury. I arrive at Jools' office with half an hour to spare in the end, so I wait in the car listening to the radio. Once Jools come out, we head back home, along lanes I quickly learnt like the back of my hand. We call in at the chippy on the way home, and are soon tucking into dinner.
I try to look at my shots from the day, even extend my time at home by an hour, but only get halfway through before time runs out and it is time to go. But little did I know the adventure was just beginning.
Jools dropped me off at the station, I got my ticket and climbed into the waiting train. It pulled away on time and soon we were speeding towards Folkestone. At The Warren there is some work going on, so the trains all slow down there, but suddenly the brakes are applied and we stop suddenly. In a couple of minutes the power is cut and all we have is emergency lighting.
A guy had walked along the tracks from Folkestone Central and was now on the tracks threatning to throw himself under a train. Power had been cut to the rail so he would not electrocute himself, and we would have to wait until he was moved.
Half an hour passed.
An hour passed. I should now be in London.
Another half an hour passed. I should now have been in the club, in e the bar with a pint.
It was decided to reverse the train to Dover and see what would happen then.
Another half an hour passed.
We crawled back to Dover heading on the wrong tracks with no signals with the driver in constant contact with the signalman. Once in Dover it was decided the train would go via Minster on to Ashford and another until should be waiting to take us to London.
And then, as if by magic, the jumper was taken away safely and we could head to London through Folkestone. Two hours late. Which is what happened.
I arrived at Stratford at ten to midnight, I was shattered, but I was already thinking of my trip to Heathrow in the morning, I would have to be up at six. Let me get to the club first. I managed to catch the very last Jubilee Line train out of Stratford, and so emerged at Waterloo at a quarter to one, checked into my room and lumped into bed just before one. I would have to be up in five hours, and my mind was racing.
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