Saturday 26th May 2018

About a month ago, I mooted the possibility of a Burnt Tip Orchid hunt, yes we're still still talking about that, and some people said they could make it on a mid-week, and others said they could only make weekends. So, in order to make everyone happy, I said I would have two hunts. I say hunts, as never in my wildest dreams thought that would actually go and find one.

So, come Thursday evening, I was getting lots of messages asking where the little fiery topped spike could be found, I began to worry about what would happen in 30 or more people turned up. Or more?

Looking at the event I had created on FB, only three had confirmed, a forth confirmed that morning, so maybe not too busy. But still, more could turn up, there could be quite a crowd walking up the down, making it obvious where we were going.

No time to back out now, just turn up and see who came.

And with the outrageously late night on Friday, we laid in bed until seven, or just after, meaning I had an hour to get ready, but before then we had to sort out the hire car, as when Jools dropped it off the day before, but Jools had forgotten to refill it. We got a call, if we didn't return to fill the car, we would have to pay for them to do it, and they charged £2.50 a litre. So, we had to be at the docks at eight, Jools would then take the car to refill, and I would wait for her to come back, then run her back to the office so we were not billed.

THe port was busy, so after Jools had driven off, I watched the cars and lorries were arriving to depart for France. A constant stream of traffic was arriving, always something to look at, not least the six charity bike riders waiting for their support vehicle to arrive. They were getting excited as each Ford Transit pulled into the port, but it wasn't theirs.

Jools came back just as their van arrived, which probably meant a change of clothes.

We went to the office, dropped the keys off, and we were free. We went straight to Temple Ewell where two people were already waiting with more than half an hour before the "hunt" was due to start.

In the next half an hour more came until we had about ten people, not as bad as I had feared. I gave the "we have a great responsibility" speech in regard to ensure that the orchid gets to set seed and maybe create a new generation. They all nodded along.

Just after nine once the last person who said they were coming, had arrived, we set off up the first set of steps into the wood. For the next half hour it was uphill all the way.

The sun was breaking through, and all around us butterflies were waking up and basking, and starting the serious business of finding a lady butterfly to spend a few minutes with.

We trod on.

Up and up we went, the village below us getting lost on the mist. Trains rattled by, and all the time we talked orchids.

And once we reached the top of the down, it was a gentle slope down to the spike.

Are we there yet?

I was asked after five more minutes, 50 yards to go I says. And after surveying the slope I pointed to the tiny spike and said, there it is.

I can imagine the effect was something similar to those who go on pilgrimages, as there was a gasp, and one by one, the others knelt down and extended arms and hands, clutching cameras, to take a record shot of the moment. Then one by one they get their moment with the orchid, shots taken from a distance, close up and inbetween.

I wait some distance away, then other recall where they had seen similar spikes, nearby and some much further afield. So, if nothing else i now have four different locations to scour each spring, not just this one, and any one of them could come up trumps.

We look at some of the places nearer, then one by one people drift away, as I do. I have an hour to get back to the car park where Jools would pick me up at half eleven, but on Thursday we had found two new colonies of Early Spider, and I had to snap those.

I was on my own agan, walking down the slope beside a fence line, and about 50 yards down I came upon two spikes, one with a faded flower, possibly a var/ flavecens. I was the only one to see this, so I take a shot, and walk back down where Jools was waiting, and she had bought sausage rolls and strawberry milkshake for me to feast on, as in my panic that morning I had not had breakfast.

I wave goodbye to those orchidists still there just loading up their cars. And we tore off home, my poor legs were aching, but I had done it, walked up and down the downs three days in a row, and this time the aches were less than on Thursday.

We go home and warm sausage rolls and Cornish pasties in the oven. I way Cornish, they were steak and ale, not a traditional recipe for sure, but tasted wonderful.

It was something of a given that even without taking any booze passed between my lips, my brain told me to lay on the sofa, and I dozed on and off until about three, when I made brews so Jools and I could have those with ice cream out in the garden.

That's living alright.

The rest of the day was given over to football: first of all listening to the Championship Play Off Final between Fulham and Villa. Not a bad game, but just the one goal that saw Fulham promoted back to the Prem. At the same time I was cooking chorizo hash too, and I had just about remembered to put a bottle of the pink fizz in the fridge so we could toast our good fortune before we ate.

Then at half seven, on wth youtube to watch the BY Sports feed of the Champion's League Final. Ended in a 3-1 for Real over Liverpool, and all I am going to say is that Liverpool still don't have a decent goalkeeper.