Friday 11th June 2021

Time to go home.

I was up at half four and on the road by five. The roads were empty, of course, and so I made good time out of the town and drove down to join the A19, which would in turn join the A1 and so the journey south had begun.

There is no other feeling, really, that the wide open road at the start of a long journey, the radio played loudly, and I put my foot down, and the car barely went any faster. Still, I was going home.

The car sat nav said I had 4 hours 55 minutes to go.

Easy.

As I drove towards Leeds, I remembered the long lines of trucks clogging up the A1, and I thought I knew better than the sat nav, and would go down the three lane M1 rather than the two lanes on the A1. Mostly.

The car kept telling me to turn round, or go through Batley to rejoin the A1, but I pressed on. Traffic was building in Leeds, and twenty miles further south was worse in Sheffield, with coming on, leaving generally getting in my way.

The car told me that it would now take half an hour longer than its suggestion.

Oh well.

It was cloudy in Durham and Teeside, but got ever brighter as I went south. Yorkshire turned into Derbysire which turned into Nottinghamshire which became Lincolnshire which became Cambridgeshire. I was cruising at seventy, and the miles slipped by.

The car had now dicided I was heading in the right direction, and as I cam to where the M1 and M6 met, I took the slip road along the A14, which the car, almost laughing, told me another half hour had been added to the journey.

I stop off at a garage, buy a sandwich, pork pie and some crisps, filled the car and off I went again.

The M11 started at Cambridge, and as it mostly goes through Essex is something to be endured rather than be enjoyed. I mean, there are nice bits of Essex, but the roads are ruled by boy racers in souped up motorised roller skates, hootling along at warp factor 6, Mr Warf.

At lunchtime i crossed the Thames into Kent, and now came the change of plan. With the pitstop came the chance to catch up on messages, and I had one: could I show some folks some orchids that afternoon?

I called Jools to explain, she was happy with that,other than I had to get the hire car back, so I said I would meet her on Townwall Street at half four, giving me three hours to take the folks round. At least I had all my gear in the back of the car.

I met them at Hythe Services, and after greetings, we set off in a mini-convoy up Stone Street and through Hastingleigh to the secret Late Spider site.

Most people want to see the rare species, but they were more than happy to see ANY orchids. That these were the rare Late Spiders was special to me. So I tell them of the plant's backgrounds, how they reproduce, and so on and on.

We go to Park Gate Down to see the Monkeys.

Everyone loves a Monkey.

So, I show them a Monkey. And they were happy. I pointed out other Monkeys, but no, they had seen those.

So:

Chalk Fragrant.

Common Spotted.

Twayblade.

Into the third paddock:

Fly.

Greater Butterfly.

Early Purple.

I made it quite clear, but being polite, that I was now going to look for the Musk, and they were welcome to stay, but would be bored.

A couple who were also looking for Musks and, they told me, were members of two Kent Orchid groups. Well, I says, I run a Kent Orchid group.

What's your name?

Bishop Brian Jones, I says.

Oh wow, we finally get to meet you!

Fame at last.

Or infamy, infamy, they've all go it infamy.

They can't stay, so head off.

And I was joined by a guy from Cambridgeshire. He'd never seen a Musk he told me.

If I find one, I'll shout "eureka"!

Have you seen any Fly I ask him.

No.

Well, there loads of spikes along the down from here. He went off to look for them, but never reached the spot as....

EUREKA!

As Jools rang on my mobile, I had spotted one of the tiny spikes. Yes, half four I say. See you there, I say.

Now, just to find the tiny orchid again. It took 5 minutes, but there it was, just bigger than a 20pence piece. And no flowers out, yet.

But no doubt.

The guy came over: oh wow, that's a lifer for me, he says. Amazing that something so tiny could give him such a big smile.

I'm now off to look at some Brids Nests, about a ten minute drive.

I'm in a campervan, he said, let me turn it round. Which was easier said than done.

So we drove to Woolage, he trying to keep up with me in the Corsa, and he trying to explain why he was following this stranger.

No mistake once we reached the wood, and entered, as the woodland floor was covered with spikes of White Helleborine, and on the other side, over a dozen Birds Nests too, with one in sunshine too.

But I had run out of time, so I had to say goodbye and hotfoot it to the car so to be back in Dover before the car hire place closed. And I had to fill up on the way. I let the firm pay for an ice cream too.

I battle through the traffic along London Road, past the Market Place and onto Townwall Street, just pulling into the forecorst two minutes late.

Nothing wrong wit the car, so we leave, Jools drove us back up Jubilee Way to home, and the week was over. The cats were waiting, but first I had to check on our garden orchid, just about ready to open up.

Lovely.

And. Relax.

I unpack, then quickly rustle up a bumper pan of chorizo hash, just in time so I can take part in the music quiz at six.

Its all go.

Just time for a shower before the start of the Euros: a routine 3-0 win for Italy over Turkey. And it was ten o'clcok, I was pooped, but home.

Huzzah!