Saturday 24th July 2021

All week the sun has shone down from clear blue skies, little wind had disturbed the long grasses in the formal beds at Chez Jelltex. But sure as Boris Johnson lies when he opens his mouth, once the weekend arrives, the clouds roll in and the sun vanishes.

In fact, the thunderstorm I had watch drift up the coast of Brittany all day on Friday to Jersey, made it to east Kent by dawn, and as we laid in bed, rolls of thnder could be heard.

But, as is the way, conditions that make such storms possible in the souther Channel seem to stop at the Straites of Dover, and the storm fizzled out, and within a couple of hours, blue sky could be seen through the clouds.

That left the question of what to do with the day.

In the far north of the county, there is a single reliabe and easily accessable site for Green Flowered Helleborines. In Kent we are "blessed" with a var that rarely opens as the plants self-pollinate. However, shots from friends this week showed one plant that had a single almost open flower. Its a long way to go, should we drive 75 minutes just to see this?

Silly question, pack your bags.

In fact, to make the trip worthwhile, I had found the location for Dark Green Fritillaries in the area, so if the orchiids disappoint, there was the butterflies. If the weather cleared.

This was the first weekend, the first day in fact, of the school summer holidays, and the radio was full of traffic warnings as families try to go somewhere, anywhere. This would usually mean roads leading to the port being jammed, and workrounds along country lanes needed. As it was there was little traffic, and no ferry had recently docked. But I still chose to drive out along the Alkham Valley so I could check on any possible poppy fields. Sadly, none seen, but the work done on Bushy Ruff, landscaping looks amazing with the large house looking fine now the vegetation obscuring it has been cleared. I just need time to get there to snap it.

Out along the valley, joining the A20 just before the Roundhill Tunnels and beyond the road becomes a motorway.

And still, so little traffic about. In fact, to get to the orchids, we would have to drive almost all the way to the M25 before turning off, this was a drve of about an hour, then another ten minutes or so to reach the lay by. As soon as you turn off the motorway, go down the hill and take the road west, you have left traffic long behind, and the road becomes little more than a wide lane.

Down into the valley created by the River Darrent, where an old pack bridge and a ford beside it carry traffic off the old high road. The church looks on, sadly locked.

We drive through the village, and a couple of miles on, pull into the lay by, and I could see dozens, well, maybe two dozen, spikes of the weedy orchids showing well. It was just a case of finding one with the flower open, or partially open.

I even knew where to look, and I saw the spike with one small flower hanging down, just ablout open, but not visible enough to see the lip. So I asked Jools to lift the flower up so I could snap it.

And this is what we drove 75 minutes for. Stunning, isn't it?

And we were done.

A little further on we turn off and head up the hill in search of the butterflies. But the cloud had rolled in, and there was more than a hint of rain in the air. I could see there was no point in chasing butterflies at that time. Maybe if we found somewhere to eat, by the time we were done, the clouds might have cleared?

It was worth a go, at least.

We return to the main road, and drive back to Eynsford, manage to nab the last parking space, and walk to the cafe to order a coffee and piece of carrot cake from the outside wagon. We wore masks until we were seated, while families came and went, unmasked, like things were back to normal. I mean, I know we were outside, but it felt wrong, saying that, the young lady serving was also unmasked too.

We took our time in drinking coffee and eating the cake, but the weather didn't clear, so we made the decision to go to Detling to check on more orchids, the BLH at The Larches.

Lots more traffic heading for the ports and tunnel this time. I say "ports", I mean Dover, no other ferry ports in Kent now. Anyway, up Detling Hill, turning off onto Pilgrim's Way and the traffic and moden life just melts away. After parking up, I am getting my camera out when a small spaniel trots over to show me the huge stick she had found.

Very impressive.

I have a brief chat with the owner about photoraphy and orchids before I enter the wood to find Jools waiting for me.

Through the wood, looking around for orchids, but mainly butterflies. I see none oe either, until we come to the meadow and cross to the path leading up the sides, where we find planty, including a couple of var. vrindiflora, or spikes lacking pigmantation, these were out, but into the meadow and we couldn't find the two large spikes we saw last time we were here, so walk further on to the area under the trees, and again, not many spikes here, but a few were in partial flower, including the variagted spike which was also infected with a fungal "rust".

That was the only spike in the area that remained out of a good thirty or forty.

Through the gate to the other path, and we find many, many more spikes, with some growing in the middle of the path, but larger numbers, and spikes of impressive size, at the woodland edge.

We walked back to the car, and after a quick drink, head back to the main road and drive up towards the M2, taking the coastbound side back towards Dover. It was busy, but most traffic was heading to Thanet, a day out in Margate, rather than going to the port for some continental sunshine.

We did try to call in and see Jane in her bungalow in hey, nonny, Nonnington, but there was no answer at the door, so we drove back along the narrow country lanes, windows open and the sunshine now having broken through, it was a glorious afternoon.

We arrive home and put on the kettle to make reviving brews to go with the small bars of Marks and Spencer chocolate we would also consume with them.

I review shots, do some writing, and generally allow the Saturday afternoon to slip through my fingers.

We have an early dinner of jumbo-sized lamb samosas, which were rather, if not very good.

Jools does some light gardening, and the afternoon goes into evening, where we listen to Craig on the wireless celebrating the life of Amy Winehouse who has been gone for a decade now.

The planning permission of the coke-snorting ex-mayor of Dover went through last year, and so two caravans have been placed on the once vacant land at the end of our garden. Last night they had a party.

There were screaming children, bouncy castle and a singer.

The singer was quite good, but loud.

He returned to do three more sets, one nearly at midnight. I just about got to sleep thanks to the use of earplugs. But I am noise sensitive, and I have to concentrate hard not to let the anger wind me up so much I can't find sleep on top of the noise.