Sunday 11th July 2021

Whatever we did on Sunday, it would be nothing but a precursor to the game kicking off at eight in the evening.

The weather, at least wasn't going to be too bad, and there was the possibility of chasing White Litter Hairstreaks down on The Marsh, but even for us in Dover, it would would be a 40 minute or so run, and no guarantee of seeing or any other butterfly, as the weather could be worse, or better, there.

Julie didn't want to go out anyway; she works away from the house five days a week, at least this week, and after most of Saturday being spent away, she had hoped to spend some time in the garden, but she also likes walking down there too. So, what to do?

I get a message. From an old friend, the person who showed me many of the little-known sites which I still visit to this day, seeking out orchids. Could I show him the Tongue Orchid?

I wrestled with the question. I propmised not to reveal the location to anyone, and I have been true to my word, and yet I felt I owed him. I said I would supply the grid reference, but he wasn't sure how to convert that into usable location to find the orchids.

Jools said, why not take him?

Hmmm, so I said I would, he would pick me up, and we would go out for most of the day. I was happy, Jools was happy and he was happy.

So it was that after breakfast and with the weather bring quite bright, his car rolled up and I climbed in, clutching my camera and dinner money.

We drove for 45 minutes up the motorway, the turn off and head down a maze of lanes before we arrive at a verge that looks like any other, but behind some long grass, there is an area of flattened grass, and to one side a spike. Two spikes. He gets his shots and I will wrestle with my concience later.

I asked him if he had seen Yellow Birds Nest before; he thought it an orchid. So I explained and that it was close, so we drove back to the motorway and along before turning off once again, and up another narrow lane we park, and through a gate is a path, and we were confronted by ladies riding eight huge horses. The one in front was startled, so I say we will stay still, and walk to the pine tree, under which about a dozen curved yellow stems were emerging.

He got his shots there too.

I had snapped them the day before, so decided not to get down among the mouldy leaf litter.

From there it was a half hour run to see our local Musk Orchids. Musks are our smallest Kent Orchid, and are green in colour, and rarely get taller than the surround vegetation. They are localised at the site, and don't often grow out of a 5m square. Once you know where to look and when and what to look for, you can spot them. For the newbies, and sometimes for us old lags, it can be a problem.

But this late in the season they are as tall as they can get, some four or five inches tall, and so easy spot, easier thanks to the flattened area round them.

Once we arrive at the reserve, he treats me to coffee and digestives, which was very nice indeed. He had rbough a family pack, so he knows me well. I turn down a third and finish my coffee, then we set out.

In May there is usually a few groups of people looking at the various orchids found here. Later in the season, once the Fragrants and CSOs start to fade there are botanic delights to find, if you know where to look and on top of that there are butterflies and other insects to see.

We walk to the third paddock and up and along. A lady was walking along the top path and sees where we are and guesses what we had come to see. She introduced herself as a former site recorder who cannot stop now she is retired, so counts the various orchid species. She tells us she has found 14 spikes.

We take shots, then look around and we find at least another six spikes, so not a bad total, really. She is happy, as are we.

We walk back to the car and head to a site I had been to a few weeks before, seeing another population of Late Spiders. It was a short drive, then a hard slog up the down to the bank, and I searched and searched, but could find no sign of any ophrys, though I did not go to the top of the down to look for Bees, as the next call, a couple of miles away promised more of those.

In the shadow of another down, we parked and went though a gate, where I saw fresh cattle tracks in the mud, and high on the down above, the cattle themselves, doing their job now the orchid and song bird nesting season was over, keeping the vegetation down. There would be no orchids left, and even as we stood on the track a few cattle eyed us, and I didn't fancy having to run, so we walked back to the car.

And that was it. By now it was two, and as I have forgotten my nasal spay, I said that I had better be heading back home. So we drove to the motorway and back to the coast, I was dropped at the end of the street and walked home. Jools was still working in the garden, and the garden looks good, though the rain has caused everything to grow and grow, meaning the grass, which should be dry is still growing and now so tall it cannot support itself, and is now flattened.

I make a brew and have a slice of pork pie, as Jools had already eaten.

And after checking the shots I had taken, I retire to the sofa with Scully to watch the closing 60km of Le Tour, which went up and up, down a bit, up and up and up before going down to the finish. Its all mad, but enthralling, and is a spectacle, as always.

Jools goes swimming, and once the cycling had finished, I make dinner which was the healthly choice of cheese and crackers. And beer.

It seems if I am sensible (!), I can now drink with litte ill effect.

Yay.

Steve next door had supplied me with three bottles of Westmalle dubbel, which I slurp down, by which time it was half seven and nearly time for the game.

England didn't play badly. In fact they played well for the first half an hour, and scored in under two minutes, but then failed to build on that and Italy grew in confidence and began to pass the ball about. They dominated the second half, and it was just a matter of time before the scored. They did, then England came back into it a bit. But after 90 minutes it was all square.

Both teams had chances, but neither scored, so it was penalties.

And you know what happened then.

Sigh.

But I am not upset about it, the team and manager did wonderfully well, and proved a point to the racists and the Government.

Maybe Southgate needs to be PM?