Sunday 15th July 2018

World Cup Final day.

Yes, after today, Europe will wake up in the morning with no games to watch, incidents to discuss, and find that no house work has been done, the rubbish not taken out, and the dog has been crapping behind the sofa.

Saying that, I am going to ask a question, could there be too much sport on TV? Wimbledon, The World Cup, Le Tour, Grand Prix, One Day Internationals?

And it is still damn hot. So hot that to do any required getting up just after dawn to walk in the woods looking for botanical oddities.

Yes, I had been given rough directions to where something I have wanted to see for a few years now; Yellow Birdsnest. But not an orchid, but looks similar, hence the name, and very rare in Kent. I had a rough idea and looked for it on Saturday, but now a map had sown a better location, we were back to the wooded down in mid-Kent to look.

We have a coffee and are on our way, just after seven we are on the road, all windows open and still warm.

The roads were empty, and we powered up the M20 like a car driven by a botany mad fat bloke only can.

We park at the side entrance to the wood and I begin looking. I was expecting to walk into the wood and see the pipes, but no. I search and search and see nothing. An hour of searching brough no joy. In the end I gave in, but the morning wasn't lost as there was the Violet Helleborines to look for.

We drive back to the coast and turn off just through Canterbury and go down narrow lanes until we reach the parking space. I sling the camera round my neck, and carry my hefty tripod, we set off down the path the other side of the road, gently climbing the wooded down.

As the path turns north, there was the first clump; still just unfurling spikes, meaning none of the others would be out either, but hey, would be maybe a week. I search for more spikes, and whereas last year I found over 60, this year just 12.

We walk back to the car and go home. It was too hot for anything else, as one last try of finding a Yellow BirdNest, I act on a tip I received two months ago, walk down a path leading down the down, and at the crossroads turn left, and look: nothing.

I was hot and bothered, and in no mood to do any more walking, just wanting to get home and have lunch and a cold shower.

And that was that, home for eleven, we have some iced squash and chill in the cool of the house until we felt normal again.

All that was left was to do stuff until the football started, having a lunch of insalata and a beer.

The football was great; end to end stuff, exciting, no fouls or play acting. It was a wonderful game, coming at the end of a wonderful tournament. France lead at half time thanks to an own goal and dogy penalty. But stepped up in the 2nd and score two more to be on the brink of the trophy. A mistake by Lloris gave Croatia hope, but it was too little too late.

Victoir La France!

Now what?

Dinner.

A phone call to Mum, more of that another day.

The climax of The Bridge, then sit in the daren under darkening skies sipping the new whisky I bought the day before.