Sunday 26th July 2015

Saturday

And the weekend rolls round, with my head full of things to do, if only my back would let me do so. The upside being that it seemed to settle down when I stood up or walked about. So, let us plan for a full day and see what happens?

As usual, the first order of the day was to go to Tesco as we were out of most stuff except sausages, and man and wife cannot live on sausage alone. We thought nothing of the short drive to Whitfield, we put on our shoes, put the bags in the car and set off down the hill, past Walletts Court and onto the Deal Road, at which point we saw the traffic on the A2. Solid and not moving.

Late Friday night the wind picked up, and so it seemed that the ferries did not start running until later than normal, coupled with the strike action in Calais and the migrant activity, it means chaos here in Kent, and in Dover where the A2 and A20 meet at the bottom of Jubilee Way.

We get to the roundabout, and are able to weave a path round up to Whitfield, but we would have to go back of course.

But a whizz round Tesco, load the car up, and then some creative driving: we go to Church Whitfield, then take a narrow lane across the down to Guston and then up to the Deal road and home. Nother dramatic, but it tripled the time it took to get home, but we did get home.

We have breakfast, then think about the next order of business: the Fan Bay Deep Shelter.

During the war, the cliffs were home to thousands of troops, operating guns, lookouts or radar towers, it must have been a sight. These lasted until the 70s, when Dover District Council classed the structures as eyesores and had them demolished or buried.

One of these was a shelter built to billet and protect soldiers who manned some 9 and 15 inch batteries from 1940. Tons of earth and rubble were piled on top of the entrance and sound mirrors, and they were lost. Until the NT bought the land in 2012 and set about recovering them, and now they have been repaired, and are safe enough, tours are available. So, with the national news coverage stiff fresh, we had places booked on Saturday's half ten tour: we just had to get there.

Thankfully, there is a back road, Reach Road, which goes all the way into Dover, over Jubilee Way, so we could do it.

However, the rules of the visit stated, that even though we already had tickets for the tour, we had to go by the NT's building at the White Cliffs to check in, and from there it was a mile and a half walk down to the shelter. Jools dropped me off at the NT's place then drove back up Reach Road to a much closer parking spot, and one which being free, was £3.50 cheaper than the NT's. I presented our tickets, a tick was put on a sheet of paper, and then I had to walk to the shelter. All seemed a bit un-necessary to me, but hey.

I doubled back so I could take the less-used track down to the Cliff Road, the trackbed of an old engineering railway, then back up to Langdon Hole, all the way along I could have fine views down onto the ferry terminal below. The sun was out, and in the lea of the cliffs, there was little wind, I even managed to bag a shot of a basking Chalkhill Blue, which saved the trip to the cliffs on Sunday. Although Jools did not know of that plan.

Up across Langdon Bay, and as I made the last few steps of the climb to the top of the cliff, the shelter of the cliffs behind me ended, and i was buffeted by the strong breeze. And Jools who had watched me walk across the bay, came to join me and so we walked the final few hundred yards to the shelter together.

The shelter is down 125 steps cut into the chalk, and at the bottom there are extensive shelters, tunnels and would even have been a mess. We were decked out with hard hats complete with head torches, and at half ten, we began the walk down.

Once down there is just the tunnels to see, but these have been pretty much untouched since the war, except for some graffiti added by urban explorers in recent years. We were given a good talk about the shelters and their re-discovery before being taken back outside to look at the two sound mirrors before going back inside again, then climbing back up the steps.

From there it was a ten minute walk up the old military road to the car, but others in the group were following us, thinking we were going back to the NT's place and the main car park. Excuse me, are you going to the main car park the Mother asked? We had to explain that we were not, but showed them a gate and how to pick up the main path, and they left us to the cliffs, wind and skylarks.

We drive back home and have an early lunch. As I had more plans for the afternoon.

Go to the butcher in Preston, then check on the Violet Helleborines near to Canterbury: and avoiding the traffic. And getting back of course.

Getting to Preston was easy: drive to Deal, then across to Sandwich (without going into the town), then take the Canterbury road, turning off for Nash and into Preston. The boys are in good spirits, and well on the way to selling out of stuff: but I get a couple of good steaks, a beef joint for Sunday and a few other things to pop in the freezer for later. It is the first time we have seen each other since the play offs, and they wish me and City well for the new season (just 13 days away now!).

Now, how to get to the orchid site? Well, take the road to Wingham, up the A2 to Canterbury and then the Ashford road, turning off under the railway, along ever-narrowing lanes until I arrive at the tiny church. And it is quiet. Also the sunny intervals of the morning have gone, but the wind has calmed down a bit, so, might get shots.

It is a pleasant walk along the track over the fields to the wood. The hedges are full of butterflues, mostly Gatekeepers, but some Large Whites and Peacocks mixed in. In the wood I begin searching, but on the first walk along the path, I find nothing: not one spike. On the way back, I finally see one unfurling spike, no flowers open. It is something, but not the dozen or so spikes we usually see here. Maybe I'm losing my touch? I get a couple of shots, then decide not to look again, if they were there, I think I would have seen them: maybe return in a couple of weeks. Or not

. Now then, how to get back home? I turn on BBC Kent radio and hear there is a big accident on the motorway at Faversham, which means that I might be lucky, so I decide to try the A2 until I sense a jam. In thew end I get to Shepherdswell, but I knew there were queues still in Whitfield, so I turn down Lydden Hill, through Buckland and then upto the castle and along Reach Road and home. No queues at all, and home in about half the time I thought.

Steak and chips for dinner, which I prepare in about an hour, so by six we are sitting down to a fine meal: I open one of the few bottles of wine we have left to drink with mine; Jools has cider. Both work.