Sunday 24th March 2019

The weekend, but another one cut short because I have to travel to be in place to start work at eight Monday morning.

There is a load of things to do, or things I want to do, before I leave in the afternoon.

Two of which are orchid related, the other to meet an old friend.

First up was a stop off at Samphire Hoe, famous for being made from spoil from the Channel Tunnel and for being home to the country's largest colony of Early Spiders. And it was for the spiders we were, or I, were going to see.

Down on the Hoe before eight, Jools set off down the sea wall, and I ambled down the track beside the railway, looking down for any sign of orchids.

I walked slowly, like I was marching at the funeral, and saw little sign of a single rosette, at a site where in a good year 25,000 spikes can be seen. It is cold and windy down there, but there should have been signs, especially as in Dorset the first flowering spike was seen last week.

I find three large rosettes, with spikes, in the coach park, but being between the visitor centre and the path, all were badly trodden.

Jools reported there were no spikes in the shadow of the cliff, so no need for me to wander there, so we decide to go to Folkestone to while away some time before meeting our friend.

We end up parking on Wear Bay, in the shadow of the Martello Tower, looking back towards Dover. It was still cool, but warming up all the time.

Come half nine, we texted Mary we were running early, so she would come and meet us at the top of the Old High Street.

We wait for Mary to arrive, then after warm greetings we go to a coffee shop to talk. We had not met for some three or so years, so good to catch up with our and her news. One coffee stretched to two, and we sat for over an hour just chatting before I realised time was slipping away.

So, we had to part but will meet again next time I need a hair cut, Jools and I walk back to the car, then take the road to the motorway, and then up Stone Street to Yocklett's.

But now it was downright warm, warm enough to go without coat, and it turned out we had the whole reserve to ourselves.

We parked in the usual place and walked to the lower meadow, amazed at how far most plants were advanced.

And in the air, dozens of butterflies wheeled; Brimstone, Comma, Peacock and a single Small Tortoiseshell. I even get shots of a Brimstone and Comma, so happy with that.

In the upper meadow, much to be seen, but no orchids in flower.

We sit in the warm sunshine and just take in the sights and smells of spring in the Kentish countryside, and it was good.

But time was slipping away, it was quarter to two, so we return to the car and drive back home, back along the A2 to home. I review my shots, then cook dinner before packing, and like that, at nearly 5, was time to leave.

I always seem to be coming or going.

I load the car up, program in the post code and set off, up the M20 now converted to be the longest lorry park in the world, 25 miles at 50mph, crawling along because people don't like to hear Polish on the bus.

Anyway.

The M25 was packed. I mean like a bank holiday packed, so the journey round took half an hour longer than usual, by which time darkness had fallen.

As I went south on the M3, traffic got lighter and lighter and going got easier and easier.

The last part of the trip was over moorland of the New Forest, taking care not to drive into a pony, donkey or deer.

I am at the hotel just before eight, just enough time to dump by bags in the room before going to the restaurant for a starter and cheeseboard before the kitchen closed.

Phew.

A heck of a day, ending up in the New Forest.