I am writing this because a little under two weeks ago, I went to the site in Kent where the Serapias vomeracea was found two years ago.
Two weeks before that, the three spikes were looking flattened, and so I was concerned that something of great weight had been thrown onto them, this is an area rife with fly tipping, but it seems that it was something more sinsiter, in that possibly, maybe probably, someone has poisoned the plants.
As a friend pointed out, odd that this colony probably the most likely to have arrived in this country by "natural" means.
Other Serapias species have been found in Essex, Sussex and on a green roof in central London, almost certainly those on the green roof and in Suffolk, the seed arrived with soil or other plants.
Earlier this year, Giant Orchid, Himantoglossum robertianum, were found in the Home Counties, offspring of an intorduced plant a decade ago, apparently.
The question arises: "what constitues a natrually occurring intorduction?"
The Giant Orchid has been spreading up the Atlantic and North Sea coasts in France, arriving in the Calais area a few years ago, it seemed only a matter of time before the seeds arrived on warm south-westerly winds.
It is easy now to source plants or seed from the internet for sustainable and not so leagal vendors. These can be planted in the wild, and if the plants or seed take they can be "discovered" and news leaked.
In this, I believe the next such discovery will be Summer Lady's Tresses, which are widely available online, a few planted in a quiet corner of a bog, can be uncovered at some point in the future.
Natural introductions are one thing, but ones which are done by people with good intentions ore not, are done without any considerations for the existing ecosystem. To quote Ian Malcom: "(you) were so preoccupied with whether or not they could, they didn't stop to think if they should.”
Orchidists in general are more interested in the unusual rather than the mundane. Take the hybrid Lady x Monkey at Hartstock. Both parent plants are rare in any other county other that Kent, and yet it is these showy hybrid swarms that most visit the site for. I know I did this year, and yet the hybrids create a swarm that cover the hillside, marginalising both parent plants, we should be protecting the much rarer parents.
Odd then that such hybrids have not been seen at Park Gate Down where both parents are also present.
One final thought, I have been told that some hybrids are being removed upon discovery as it is thought that "natural" cross-pollination between the two species is impossible. I would argue, rare but not impossible, especially where both parent plants grow next to each other. The motif is not to create swarms, but then the family don't create swarms, so there is no worry on that count. It's just keeping pur blood parents. I guess.
Maybe then, after what I said about the hybrid swarms at Hartstock that such a dim view on other hybrids is being taken on other species?
So, in summary, to anyone reading this who is thinking of reintroducing a long-extict UK species, or some fancy European species, I would ask long thought is given as to if this is a good idea, and what might happen to existing plants in that existing ecosystem. News this week of a rampant disease affecting Dactylorhiza species on Teesside. Who knows what disease alien plants or seeds could bring with them.
Might be a long shot, but it is possible.
Thursday, 30 June 2022
Wednesday 29th June 2022
After the exciting day and travel on Tuesday, Wednesday was always going to see more mundane.
However, there was a major windows update coming later in the day, so that was something to look forward to.
It was a cool and breezy day, not really a day for having the back door open. Jools went swimming at ten to six, leaving me to mess around for an hour before logging on for work.
My boss and clleague were out on the second day of a two day road trip to Germany, another was in France still on an audit whle Frank was on a beach somewhere in Greece.
The cats, once fed, went to their various beds and slept through the morning, and I had breakfast and a second coffee.
I completed the first draft of the audit report from last week in Holland, which took up the most of the morning.
And so to the big event, the windows update.
Not quite what I am making out, because when the house was renovated a few years ago, we had new windows put in, but some of the sealed units were not so sealed, and so having been looking and humidity all winter, we decided to get them replaced.
Before the holiday, a man came with a tape measure, to size up each window. And yesterday he and two ladies came to replace the units.
I thought it would take all day, but the truth is they banged out the trup, whipped each window out, put the new ones in, then moved onto the next window. So fast that in less than 50 minutes, they were done and walking back to their van.
Back in the house, the new and clean windows let in so much more light, so much so it seemed very odd. And washing up I was able to keep an eye on Scully stalking the birds on the feeders. Cleo and Poppy were very spooked by the noise and people walking through the house, so they escaped and did not return for a couple of hours, but they soon settled back down and were soon hungry.
Well, that was exciting.
And with that, I put away the work computer and got ready to cook dinner, which was dirty, dirty lamb burgers, the ones bought in Deal at the weekend. And very good they turned out to be. Would have been better had I bbq'd them, but I dry fried them and there were wonderful.
And that was it for the day. We listened to the radio, messed around online, and generally frittered our time away.
However, there was a major windows update coming later in the day, so that was something to look forward to.
It was a cool and breezy day, not really a day for having the back door open. Jools went swimming at ten to six, leaving me to mess around for an hour before logging on for work.
My boss and clleague were out on the second day of a two day road trip to Germany, another was in France still on an audit whle Frank was on a beach somewhere in Greece.
The cats, once fed, went to their various beds and slept through the morning, and I had breakfast and a second coffee.
I completed the first draft of the audit report from last week in Holland, which took up the most of the morning.
And so to the big event, the windows update.
Not quite what I am making out, because when the house was renovated a few years ago, we had new windows put in, but some of the sealed units were not so sealed, and so having been looking and humidity all winter, we decided to get them replaced.
Before the holiday, a man came with a tape measure, to size up each window. And yesterday he and two ladies came to replace the units.
I thought it would take all day, but the truth is they banged out the trup, whipped each window out, put the new ones in, then moved onto the next window. So fast that in less than 50 minutes, they were done and walking back to their van.
Back in the house, the new and clean windows let in so much more light, so much so it seemed very odd. And washing up I was able to keep an eye on Scully stalking the birds on the feeders. Cleo and Poppy were very spooked by the noise and people walking through the house, so they escaped and did not return for a couple of hours, but they soon settled back down and were soon hungry.
Well, that was exciting.
And with that, I put away the work computer and got ready to cook dinner, which was dirty, dirty lamb burgers, the ones bought in Deal at the weekend. And very good they turned out to be. Would have been better had I bbq'd them, but I dry fried them and there were wonderful.
And that was it for the day. We listened to the radio, messed around online, and generally frittered our time away.
Wednesday, 29 June 2022
Tuesday 28th June 2022
There are somewhere between 50 and 60 native orchid species in the UK.
I say it like that because as genetic sequencing is used, what was once a separate species becomes a sub-species of something else.
And then with the availabilty of orchid plants and seeds on the net, the "chance" discovery of more and more exotic species becomes ever more likely.
Of the top of my head, these are the species I have yet to see.
1. Narrow Lipped Helleborine 2. Creeping Lady's Tresses 3. Irish Lady's Tresses 4. Lesser Twayblade 5. Coralroot 6. Bog Orchid 7. Irish Spotted Orchid 8. Small White Orchid 9. Dense Flowered Orchid (though seen on Rhodes) 10. Dune Helleborine (though seen both Tyne and Lindisfarne(though the latter was a separate species in 2014)) 11. Ghost Orchid. (of course) 12. Pugsley's Marsh orchid
And until yesterday, Red Helleborine.
Some are rare due to geographical location limitations, and some are low in actual numbers, some, both. The Ghost I probably won't see, but of the others, the blandly names Small White Orchid might prove to be the most difficut.
The Red Helleborine was never that common, but since the war its best sites have been built on, and what sites are left have at times poorly managed. Most years less than five plants flower, some years just one. So, the chance to see one of the sites, and as it turns out the only one with flowering spikes this (and last) year was too good to turn down, and after the hours put in last week, I thought I would claw some back this week by taking Tuesday off.
It would mean having the car all day, and driving to the Chilterns and back in one day, but what the heck? THe trip was arranged by the Hardy Orchid Society, I put my name down and was accepted.
We were up at five, Jools made drinks and then had a shower, I dragged my body out of bed, got dressed and got all my shit together.
We left at quarter to six, me dropping Jools off on Hythe seafront, and then heading back to the motorway before taking the M25 south round London. I knew it would be tough, but I had four and a half hours for a two and a half hour drive.
Should have been enough.
I won't lie, travelling along the M25 and then round the M25 is not pleasant. Even in glorious sunshine. Traffic was stop/start for over an hour, and then the sat nav declared that the motorway ahead was closed.
I said to the sat nav, if that were true, I'm sure the matrix signs would have mentioned it.
The motorway is cloed, it said.
Again.
So it came to pass that I was travelling at between 60 and 70mph along what the car told me was a closed motorway. So, I had no estimated time for arrival, only that the alternative routes were to take much longer than I had.
So, once the car agreed with me that the motorwa wasn't closed after all, and with the expected delays taken into account, I would still get to the site with an hour to spare.
Good news.
It was great to turn off the M25 at the junction after Heathrow, head to Oxford, but have enough time to be able to stop at High Wycombe services for a comfort break, then call in at Greggs for not one, but two sausage rolls for second breakfast.
I was boosted by their energy for the last half an hour drive to a lay by in a wood, where the warden was already waiting.
As time went on, more and more cars arrived, so soon over a dozen folks had arrived, and at half ten we had our brief and we walked into the woods.
Because there was a clay pigeon shoot on at the landowner's estate, it was like being in a warzone, but walking carefully down the chalk slope through dense woodland, we came to a stockade, and on the other side were two weedy looking spikes with glorious spink flowers.
Red Helleborines.
We took turns to take shots, some took a few, other apparently took hundreds.
I suppose I should mention I was recognised by the organiser, Richard, and a couple who asked: did we meet at Homefield Wood where you pointed out orchids we should look at?
Yes, that was me.
And another couple when I said I bumped into a friend of us both at Goring railway satation on the way to Hartstock, they said they were in the minibus waiting for their driver, Duncan, to take them somewhere else.
Small world.
Is the orchid world.
After 90 minutes we were done, so we walked back to our cars, and with it being after midday, I knew I had to make tracks to head back to Kent.
So, programmed the sat nav for home, and away I zoomed.
I had no idea what the traffic would be, but the matrix signs told me the souther way round would be delayed by an hour at least, so I went clockwise round via the Ma, A1, M11 and A12 to Dartford.
THere were no delays, and arrived at the bridge in good time. So the plan then was to call in at The Larches to check on the Broad Leaved Helleborines. Dashing down the M20 then up Detling Hill, turning off onto Pilgrim's Way, parking at the side of the road.
The site was very dry indeed, and I found just one spike in the whole of the large clearing, none under the two lonely trees at the top, nor between them and the path beside the wood.
Along the path I found maybe a dozen spikes of good size, about two weeks from flowering. PLenty of Ringlets about too, but none settled long enough for me to take shots. So, having looked for the orchids, I walked back to the car, and with over two hours to kill before I had to pick up Jools, I thought I would go to Hothfield to look at the Heath Spotted Orchids again, and at the Keeled Skimmers which I knew now was their only Kent site.
I was hot and hungry, but told myself I would call in at a garage once I had these last shots for some pop and crisps, so was happy to park on the main road, grab the camera and set off through the wood.
Into the fenced off area, and the overgrown birch was even worse than in May when I was here last, though there were a few Heath Spotted spikes, not as numerous as in previous years.
But onto the boardwalk I stood for over half an hour watching the Keeled Skimmers flying, baking, mating, egg laying. It was like an air show, and wonderful.
A lady came to see what I was taking shots off, and she pointed out the orchids gowing in the dried out mud.
I see those too at Blean Woods, she said.
No you didn't, I said as nicely as I could.
I then pointed out the difference between CSO and HSO, the lip shape, patterns and PH of the ground, and she was amazed. As she was at the dragonflies too.
I had my shots of orchids and dragons, so walked back up the hill to the car park, then drove to the main road and down to the garage where I filled the car and bought a bottle of lemon Fanta and two bags of paprika crisps. Which I ate driving into Ashford, then along the M20 driving to Hythe.
I was an hour early, and I had toyed with the idea of going to a pub, but decent ones are thinon the ground in Hythe, so I sat on the prom for half an hour, looking at the sea and the slight waves lapping at the stony beach, while teens swore at each other in what they though was a really funny and grown up way.
I drove to the factory and waited for knocking off time, the hooter went and they all came tumbling out, I picked Jools up, and we drove throught he town and up and over the down to junction onto the motorway, then back home.
Phew, what a long and tiring day.
Home I warm up some pasta sauce, heat some gnochi, and within ten minutes we were sitting down to eat.
Not great, but good enough.
I even resited the lure of wine. Oh no I didn't. I had three glasses. It was the night before I had squash.
I say it like that because as genetic sequencing is used, what was once a separate species becomes a sub-species of something else.
And then with the availabilty of orchid plants and seeds on the net, the "chance" discovery of more and more exotic species becomes ever more likely.
Of the top of my head, these are the species I have yet to see.
1. Narrow Lipped Helleborine 2. Creeping Lady's Tresses 3. Irish Lady's Tresses 4. Lesser Twayblade 5. Coralroot 6. Bog Orchid 7. Irish Spotted Orchid 8. Small White Orchid 9. Dense Flowered Orchid (though seen on Rhodes) 10. Dune Helleborine (though seen both Tyne and Lindisfarne(though the latter was a separate species in 2014)) 11. Ghost Orchid. (of course) 12. Pugsley's Marsh orchid
And until yesterday, Red Helleborine.
Some are rare due to geographical location limitations, and some are low in actual numbers, some, both. The Ghost I probably won't see, but of the others, the blandly names Small White Orchid might prove to be the most difficut.
The Red Helleborine was never that common, but since the war its best sites have been built on, and what sites are left have at times poorly managed. Most years less than five plants flower, some years just one. So, the chance to see one of the sites, and as it turns out the only one with flowering spikes this (and last) year was too good to turn down, and after the hours put in last week, I thought I would claw some back this week by taking Tuesday off.
It would mean having the car all day, and driving to the Chilterns and back in one day, but what the heck? THe trip was arranged by the Hardy Orchid Society, I put my name down and was accepted.
We were up at five, Jools made drinks and then had a shower, I dragged my body out of bed, got dressed and got all my shit together.
We left at quarter to six, me dropping Jools off on Hythe seafront, and then heading back to the motorway before taking the M25 south round London. I knew it would be tough, but I had four and a half hours for a two and a half hour drive.
Should have been enough.
I won't lie, travelling along the M25 and then round the M25 is not pleasant. Even in glorious sunshine. Traffic was stop/start for over an hour, and then the sat nav declared that the motorway ahead was closed.
I said to the sat nav, if that were true, I'm sure the matrix signs would have mentioned it.
The motorway is cloed, it said.
Again.
So it came to pass that I was travelling at between 60 and 70mph along what the car told me was a closed motorway. So, I had no estimated time for arrival, only that the alternative routes were to take much longer than I had.
So, once the car agreed with me that the motorwa wasn't closed after all, and with the expected delays taken into account, I would still get to the site with an hour to spare.
Good news.
It was great to turn off the M25 at the junction after Heathrow, head to Oxford, but have enough time to be able to stop at High Wycombe services for a comfort break, then call in at Greggs for not one, but two sausage rolls for second breakfast.
I was boosted by their energy for the last half an hour drive to a lay by in a wood, where the warden was already waiting.
As time went on, more and more cars arrived, so soon over a dozen folks had arrived, and at half ten we had our brief and we walked into the woods.
Because there was a clay pigeon shoot on at the landowner's estate, it was like being in a warzone, but walking carefully down the chalk slope through dense woodland, we came to a stockade, and on the other side were two weedy looking spikes with glorious spink flowers.
Red Helleborines.
We took turns to take shots, some took a few, other apparently took hundreds.
I suppose I should mention I was recognised by the organiser, Richard, and a couple who asked: did we meet at Homefield Wood where you pointed out orchids we should look at?
Yes, that was me.
And another couple when I said I bumped into a friend of us both at Goring railway satation on the way to Hartstock, they said they were in the minibus waiting for their driver, Duncan, to take them somewhere else.
Small world.
Is the orchid world.
After 90 minutes we were done, so we walked back to our cars, and with it being after midday, I knew I had to make tracks to head back to Kent.
So, programmed the sat nav for home, and away I zoomed.
I had no idea what the traffic would be, but the matrix signs told me the souther way round would be delayed by an hour at least, so I went clockwise round via the Ma, A1, M11 and A12 to Dartford.
THere were no delays, and arrived at the bridge in good time. So the plan then was to call in at The Larches to check on the Broad Leaved Helleborines. Dashing down the M20 then up Detling Hill, turning off onto Pilgrim's Way, parking at the side of the road.
The site was very dry indeed, and I found just one spike in the whole of the large clearing, none under the two lonely trees at the top, nor between them and the path beside the wood.
Along the path I found maybe a dozen spikes of good size, about two weeks from flowering. PLenty of Ringlets about too, but none settled long enough for me to take shots. So, having looked for the orchids, I walked back to the car, and with over two hours to kill before I had to pick up Jools, I thought I would go to Hothfield to look at the Heath Spotted Orchids again, and at the Keeled Skimmers which I knew now was their only Kent site.
I was hot and hungry, but told myself I would call in at a garage once I had these last shots for some pop and crisps, so was happy to park on the main road, grab the camera and set off through the wood.
Into the fenced off area, and the overgrown birch was even worse than in May when I was here last, though there were a few Heath Spotted spikes, not as numerous as in previous years.
But onto the boardwalk I stood for over half an hour watching the Keeled Skimmers flying, baking, mating, egg laying. It was like an air show, and wonderful.
A lady came to see what I was taking shots off, and she pointed out the orchids gowing in the dried out mud.
I see those too at Blean Woods, she said.
No you didn't, I said as nicely as I could.
I then pointed out the difference between CSO and HSO, the lip shape, patterns and PH of the ground, and she was amazed. As she was at the dragonflies too.
I had my shots of orchids and dragons, so walked back up the hill to the car park, then drove to the main road and down to the garage where I filled the car and bought a bottle of lemon Fanta and two bags of paprika crisps. Which I ate driving into Ashford, then along the M20 driving to Hythe.
I was an hour early, and I had toyed with the idea of going to a pub, but decent ones are thinon the ground in Hythe, so I sat on the prom for half an hour, looking at the sea and the slight waves lapping at the stony beach, while teens swore at each other in what they though was a really funny and grown up way.
I drove to the factory and waited for knocking off time, the hooter went and they all came tumbling out, I picked Jools up, and we drove throught he town and up and over the down to junction onto the motorway, then back home.
Phew, what a long and tiring day.
Home I warm up some pasta sauce, heat some gnochi, and within ten minutes we were sitting down to eat.
Not great, but good enough.
I even resited the lure of wine. Oh no I didn't. I had three glasses. It was the night before I had squash.
Our rob or us
Ouroboros.
There is no point in writing about Brexit, as it goes on in an endless loop never ending, never being completed.
We are now back at the point of the UK Government deciding that the border in the Irish Sea is unacceptable.
It was literally their idea.
If not there, it has to be soewhere: across Ireland?
Or will you try to get Ireland to leave the EU too so the border can be around all of the UK and Ireland?
Why should Ireland suffer for our folly?
The situation is so serious that action needs to be taken by the UK Government, passing legislation that will take untl the end of the year to pass through Parliament, but not so serious to actually trigger the A16 process to deal with such situations.
I am fed up writing about their stupidity.
So am stopping.
Until they actually carry out their threat.
Nothing material has actually changed.
We are now back at the point of the UK Government deciding that the border in the Irish Sea is unacceptable.
It was literally their idea.
If not there, it has to be soewhere: across Ireland?
Or will you try to get Ireland to leave the EU too so the border can be around all of the UK and Ireland?
Why should Ireland suffer for our folly?
The situation is so serious that action needs to be taken by the UK Government, passing legislation that will take untl the end of the year to pass through Parliament, but not so serious to actually trigger the A16 process to deal with such situations.
I am fed up writing about their stupidity.
So am stopping.
Until they actually carry out their threat.
Nothing material has actually changed.
Tuesday, 28 June 2022
Monday 27th June 2022
Back to work.
Of course.
The thought of staying in the house, in the living room, anwering mails and calls appeals after a week away, even if it did avoid airports.
Logging off at three after eight hours and having a commute of zero hours is good.
I have worked from home, on and off for eight years now, and for my job, little point in going into an office, even if there was one local to me, which there isn't.
When I got up, Jools was dressed. She had booked a session in the pool at six, so as soon as I was up, she was off. So I drank the coffee she had made, then had a shower and got dressed before making a batch of dough. A double batch, so I would have something to eat for lunch.
In fact, it wasn't warm, so the back door remained closed, and the dough raised in the direct sunlight, and soon I had created a monster!
So I popped it into the oven for 35 minutes, and soon had a loaf too big for its tin, evena after cutting two generous slices for my lunch.
Work is the same, getting in the way of actual work. But in this way the day slips by.
John came round to pich up some bacca which I got him last week. The big news that broke is that Jen has decided against moving to Bury, after looking at several houses during her trip up north. She is to go to Australia for three months over the autumn/winter and see about moving in with one of her sons.
We'd miss her, needless to say, but we want her to be happy more. Which is what I told her.
Lunch is fresh warm bread with butter and apricot jam. So good I have to have a second slice to make sure.
John and I agree that its not warm outsie, so I skip going for a walk, and instead catch up on podcasts and radio shows.
Dinner was fish cakes, stir fry and Moroccan spiced rice. OK, I know it should be cous cous, but the rice was good with chopped apricots and sultanas.
I avoided wine or beer for dinner, and so we ate well.
Not much elese to report, an evening spent listening to the wireless and editing shots.
Of course.
The thought of staying in the house, in the living room, anwering mails and calls appeals after a week away, even if it did avoid airports.
Logging off at three after eight hours and having a commute of zero hours is good.
I have worked from home, on and off for eight years now, and for my job, little point in going into an office, even if there was one local to me, which there isn't.
When I got up, Jools was dressed. She had booked a session in the pool at six, so as soon as I was up, she was off. So I drank the coffee she had made, then had a shower and got dressed before making a batch of dough. A double batch, so I would have something to eat for lunch.
In fact, it wasn't warm, so the back door remained closed, and the dough raised in the direct sunlight, and soon I had created a monster!
So I popped it into the oven for 35 minutes, and soon had a loaf too big for its tin, evena after cutting two generous slices for my lunch.
Work is the same, getting in the way of actual work. But in this way the day slips by.
John came round to pich up some bacca which I got him last week. The big news that broke is that Jen has decided against moving to Bury, after looking at several houses during her trip up north. She is to go to Australia for three months over the autumn/winter and see about moving in with one of her sons.
We'd miss her, needless to say, but we want her to be happy more. Which is what I told her.
Lunch is fresh warm bread with butter and apricot jam. So good I have to have a second slice to make sure.
John and I agree that its not warm outsie, so I skip going for a walk, and instead catch up on podcasts and radio shows.
Dinner was fish cakes, stir fry and Moroccan spiced rice. OK, I know it should be cous cous, but the rice was good with chopped apricots and sultanas.
I avoided wine or beer for dinner, and so we ate well.
Not much elese to report, an evening spent listening to the wireless and editing shots.
Monday, 27 June 2022
Sunday 26th June 2022
Day two of the laid back weekend.
I say laid back as I have been busy, busy, busy. Or felt like it.
So, the only plan was to go to Temple Ewell Down to check on the chalk fragrants and see what elese was about.
So, Jools has discovered she has torn her achilles heel, so has to rest, I would be going on my own.
I arrived at half seven, parked at theedge of the wood, and walked through, then up to the first meadow. It would have been fine except for the endless stream of dogwalkers bringing their pooches to a walk off the lead. Dog owners to all reserves should keep their dogs on a 2m lead. Hardly any do. Many's the time I have been snapping an orchid or butterfly only for some dog come wandering over.
Oh, he's very friendly.
Never mind what I was doing.
And that's nothing when two "friendly" dogs meet and a dogfight breaks out.
If a dog cannot be controlled by vocal command, it should not be off the lead. There should be areas where non-dogowners and nature can be left alone. And what better place than a nature reserve?
That over with, I can report that Chalk Fragrants are now fasing fast, but there were some vivid purple pyramidals showing well, and on top of that there was Dyer's greenweed, Eyebright, Yellow-wort among other plants in flower. But do due to the strong breeze, there were no butterflies, sadly.
I wasn't going to see much more had I have gone further on, and with my back grumbling, I walk back down to the car. No point going to see the Bees at the council offices, as they would be over now. So, I drive home for breakfast and more coffee.
Once we had eaten fruit and yogurt, we went into the garden for some deadheading of flowers that had gone over. That took and hour. We watered some of the beds.
Phew.
So, we had an ice cream sitting on the patio, looking at the magnitude of our works. And it was good.
Lunch was Caprese. Again. What can I say, we loves it. We had beers. Or beer and cider.
So, the afternoon was filled with not falling asleep, or trying not to.
The afternoon passed slowly.
I got a phone call from John saying the former church in Ham had suffered a fire.
First question was to find out if the owner was OK. He was, but the church is badly damaged. I said I would go out to take some shots.
So I did.
The building is now surrounded by chain link fencing, with warning signs saying to stay out. I was asked by the owner of the house next door if he could help. I explained I had shot the building before and was known to the owner. He was happy with that.
But I went back to the car, and then through the maze of narrow lanes headed back home.
Should we have another ice cream?
Maybe not.
We had cheese and the remainder of the bread for supper. And that was your weekend.
Just time to upload shots for #wildflowerhour, then it was time to go bed.
I say laid back as I have been busy, busy, busy. Or felt like it.
So, the only plan was to go to Temple Ewell Down to check on the chalk fragrants and see what elese was about.
So, Jools has discovered she has torn her achilles heel, so has to rest, I would be going on my own.
I arrived at half seven, parked at theedge of the wood, and walked through, then up to the first meadow. It would have been fine except for the endless stream of dogwalkers bringing their pooches to a walk off the lead. Dog owners to all reserves should keep their dogs on a 2m lead. Hardly any do. Many's the time I have been snapping an orchid or butterfly only for some dog come wandering over.
Oh, he's very friendly.
Never mind what I was doing.
And that's nothing when two "friendly" dogs meet and a dogfight breaks out.
If a dog cannot be controlled by vocal command, it should not be off the lead. There should be areas where non-dogowners and nature can be left alone. And what better place than a nature reserve?
That over with, I can report that Chalk Fragrants are now fasing fast, but there were some vivid purple pyramidals showing well, and on top of that there was Dyer's greenweed, Eyebright, Yellow-wort among other plants in flower. But do due to the strong breeze, there were no butterflies, sadly.
I wasn't going to see much more had I have gone further on, and with my back grumbling, I walk back down to the car. No point going to see the Bees at the council offices, as they would be over now. So, I drive home for breakfast and more coffee.
Once we had eaten fruit and yogurt, we went into the garden for some deadheading of flowers that had gone over. That took and hour. We watered some of the beds.
Phew.
So, we had an ice cream sitting on the patio, looking at the magnitude of our works. And it was good.
Lunch was Caprese. Again. What can I say, we loves it. We had beers. Or beer and cider.
So, the afternoon was filled with not falling asleep, or trying not to.
The afternoon passed slowly.
I got a phone call from John saying the former church in Ham had suffered a fire.
First question was to find out if the owner was OK. He was, but the church is badly damaged. I said I would go out to take some shots.
So I did.
The building is now surrounded by chain link fencing, with warning signs saying to stay out. I was asked by the owner of the house next door if he could help. I explained I had shot the building before and was known to the owner. He was happy with that.
But I went back to the car, and then through the maze of narrow lanes headed back home.
Should we have another ice cream?
Maybe not.
We had cheese and the remainder of the bread for supper. And that was your weekend.
Just time to upload shots for #wildflowerhour, then it was time to go bed.
Sunday, 26 June 2022
Saturday 25th June 2022
FIxmas.
Falkland Island Christmas.
Middle of winter in the southern hempisphere, and in RAF mount Pleasant, there will be parties and much, much drinking.
Probably.
Also, six months to Christmas, which means if your sprouts are not on a rolling boil now, how on earth do you think they'll be ready before the big day?
It turned out that five days of travelling, audits and driving four hours each day, at least, meant I was pooped and really wanted to have a weekend doing stuff against the clock.
I just wanted to do one or two things, and then rest of the time, chill out.
I like to have a plan.
The day before, we had munched our way through 80% of the cheese I had bought in Calais, so the first action was to go to No Name Shop in Deal for a re-supply of stinky French cheese.
We had coffee and some fruit, and were out on the road heading into Deal by half eight. Deal is nice, but being seasidy, can get busy. So, best to get there early, do your stuff and leave ASAP.
We parked in the centre of town, walked along Middle Street, cutting down an alley past the Black Pig butchers, where we ended up buying some oak-smoked back bacon and some lamb kebabs.
Then onto the High Street and along to No Name Shop. We go in and buy three random cheeses, no idea what we were buying, but that's more than half the fun.
We walk back to the car, load up and head out of town towards Sandwich.
I had seen shots of Marsh Helleborines in flower, so being a member of the bservatory this year for the first time, entrance onto the estate would be free.
Once we arrived, I checked that there was no bird ringing taking place, so permission to walk to the meadow, and Jools and I set off across the hay meadow which had just be cut, so there were very few orchids and other wild flower, just at the very edges.
We walked throug to the ringing area, and there were butterflies and dragonflies. Everywhere.
The sheer delight of seeing the air and plants full of butterflies: Peacocks, Small Skipeprs, Large Skippers, Small Tortoiseshells, Meadow Browns, Speckled Woods, Small Coppers, Marbled Whites and Coppers. I took twenty minutes to stalk butterflies and take shots, before we entered the orchid meadow.
At first all I could see were spikes of Southern Marsh, already going over and/or going to seed, but looking closer I saw a large number of Marsh Helleborines, some in flower, but many more to come out.
I took some shots, but not too many as I didn't want to step into the clmps of orchids.
Walking on, there were many more Southern Marsh and a few Dacht x grandis too, the hybrid between SMO and Common Spotted Orchids.
I also saw a single Dainty Dameslfly, but it failed to settle, but good to see this very rare species spreading further from their breeding pools.
We walked back to the car, and then drove home. Job done for the day.
Back home I cook the bacon and put the brown and crispy rashers into one of the French baguettes, which worked very well indeed.
And that was that.
We could have watched Glastonbury, but didn't. Mainly due to the fact that it has wiped our usual favourite schedule on 6 Music.
We had the kebabs for dinner, with beer.
In fact, the kebabs were very good, and I simply served them with some asparagus lightly fried in butter.
Jools got a new tablet delivered, so spent the evening setting it up, and I did other stuff. Whatever I did, it took all evening.
Phew.
Falkland Island Christmas.
Middle of winter in the southern hempisphere, and in RAF mount Pleasant, there will be parties and much, much drinking.
Probably.
Also, six months to Christmas, which means if your sprouts are not on a rolling boil now, how on earth do you think they'll be ready before the big day?
It turned out that five days of travelling, audits and driving four hours each day, at least, meant I was pooped and really wanted to have a weekend doing stuff against the clock.
I just wanted to do one or two things, and then rest of the time, chill out.
I like to have a plan.
The day before, we had munched our way through 80% of the cheese I had bought in Calais, so the first action was to go to No Name Shop in Deal for a re-supply of stinky French cheese.
We had coffee and some fruit, and were out on the road heading into Deal by half eight. Deal is nice, but being seasidy, can get busy. So, best to get there early, do your stuff and leave ASAP.
We parked in the centre of town, walked along Middle Street, cutting down an alley past the Black Pig butchers, where we ended up buying some oak-smoked back bacon and some lamb kebabs.
Then onto the High Street and along to No Name Shop. We go in and buy three random cheeses, no idea what we were buying, but that's more than half the fun.
We walk back to the car, load up and head out of town towards Sandwich.
I had seen shots of Marsh Helleborines in flower, so being a member of the bservatory this year for the first time, entrance onto the estate would be free.
Once we arrived, I checked that there was no bird ringing taking place, so permission to walk to the meadow, and Jools and I set off across the hay meadow which had just be cut, so there were very few orchids and other wild flower, just at the very edges.
We walked throug to the ringing area, and there were butterflies and dragonflies. Everywhere.
The sheer delight of seeing the air and plants full of butterflies: Peacocks, Small Skipeprs, Large Skippers, Small Tortoiseshells, Meadow Browns, Speckled Woods, Small Coppers, Marbled Whites and Coppers. I took twenty minutes to stalk butterflies and take shots, before we entered the orchid meadow.
At first all I could see were spikes of Southern Marsh, already going over and/or going to seed, but looking closer I saw a large number of Marsh Helleborines, some in flower, but many more to come out.
I took some shots, but not too many as I didn't want to step into the clmps of orchids.
Walking on, there were many more Southern Marsh and a few Dacht x grandis too, the hybrid between SMO and Common Spotted Orchids.
I also saw a single Dainty Dameslfly, but it failed to settle, but good to see this very rare species spreading further from their breeding pools.
We walked back to the car, and then drove home. Job done for the day.
Back home I cook the bacon and put the brown and crispy rashers into one of the French baguettes, which worked very well indeed.
And that was that.
We could have watched Glastonbury, but didn't. Mainly due to the fact that it has wiped our usual favourite schedule on 6 Music.
We had the kebabs for dinner, with beer.
In fact, the kebabs were very good, and I simply served them with some asparagus lightly fried in butter.
Jools got a new tablet delivered, so spent the evening setting it up, and I did other stuff. Whatever I did, it took all evening.
Phew.
Saturday, 25 June 2022
Friday 24th June 2022
In hindsight, I could have paid my bill the evening before, leaft when I woke up at about half four, and been at Calais by nine in the morning, or something close to that.
But I didn't.
And maybe just as well, as the storms rumbled on for nearly twelve hours, only clearing away just before six in the morning, by which time I had been awake since four.
I decided to stay to have breakfast and travel in daylight. And as I had all day, there was no rush, and if I planned it right, I could drop the hire car off and Jools collect me on her way home from work.
So, at half six I went for breakfast, fruit and yogurt followed by a roll with sprinkles. Gonna miss those!
And three cups of coffee, I was going to need those as I was bleary-eyed after for early mornings.
Back in the room I pack, do one final check to make sure I had left nothing behind, then went to the front desk to pay.
That settled, I loaded the car and programmed the sat nav to the last place in Kent it had been driven to; somewhere in Ashford. I started the car, and the car told me I had nine hours to go, whch I thought was way too long.
Although the thunder had stopped, rain fell down pretty hard and the light, which was on the third day after the longest day, was pretty poor. On top of that, the roads were very wet, so I took my time, driving onto the motorway and then following the directions, heading south and west towards France.
I won't like, there was one time on the way to Eindhoven when I thought the car was taking me to to east Belgium and maybe even Germany, but after a series of junctions the road signs listen Antwerp. I knew I was on the right course.
The rain continued to fall, and I pressed on at or below the speed limit.
The car, a hybrid, didn't quite eat the miles, but was pleasant enough and comfortable to drive, and with the sat nav, I didn't get lost.
By Eindhoven, the rain had stopped just, but I knew there would be traffic here like nowhere else. And some 5 miles from the start of the ringroad, I was in stationary traffic, inching forward, though maybe not as bad as I make it sounds.
Onto the ringroad, and having always suffered traffic here, even in the middle of the night, I was sure it would take half an hour to get to the Kennedy Tunnel and the open road beyond. But in fact, the traffic cleared after the next junction, and soon we were up to 70kmh, and the junctions and interchanges just flew by.
I didn't complain.
Out onto the open road then, down to Brugge, and onto the main road to Calais, I would be at the Tunnel at about eleven, and maybe back in the UK an hour later, or at the same time due to the time difference.
I was cruising now, even as the rain began to fall again, but traffic was so light, and hardly any UK cars on the road. Maybe I passed two in the last hour.
The last hold up was entering France where all traffic is forced through the car park of the old customs post so two bored looking policemen could look at every vehicle as it passed at walking pace. I saw no cars stopped, and was soon roaring back to cruising speed.
A quick stop in Calais for some Belgian beer at Calais Vin, and onto the Tunnel complex, and I found many, many UK registed cars, and cars from all over Europe waiting to get to Folkestone.
I booked in at the first set of barriers, and should have gone straight on, but there was purple markings on the road, the colour of the Flexi plus lane, pointing to the right. I went right.
And joined the back of the queue for all the standard ticket holders waiting to get on a train, and no way out to correct my mistake.
No markings on the road either to say if there were one or two lanes, so we inched our way round the various car parks and up to the French customs post, I got to show my passport and was allowed through, where the six or more lanes from the French side went into three or four for the UK border, with no signage agan to tell people what to do.
It was a mess.
I got into a lane that had fewer cars, and as I got near the front, the Renault at the border had trouble with one of their passports.
Big trouble.
Ten, twenty minutes went by and nothing moved. They sat there and guards came to watch over what was happening. The car between me and the Renault was a brand new black Ferrari, and the gue drapped in gold was very impatient. His hand tapping on the roof of his car. And at one point he got out to complain and was told, in no uncertain terms, to shut up and get back in his car.
I looked in my rear view mirror and the van behind had given up and joined another lane, so I reversed back and did the same.
Mr Ferrari still sat there as the officials dealt with the Renault.
I got through, went to the lounge for a snadwich, crisps, and a couple of drinks, then got back in the car to go to the waiting area, just as the barrier lifted and we were allowed to go to the ramp, and after a short wait, allowed onto the train.
Phew.
I ate the sandwich and crisps, before the train pulled away. I would be back in Folkestone just after one, so I called Jools to pick me up at the car hire place.
All settled.
We arrived back and we are let off very quickly, I take the lane to the A20, while most are heading up the motorway to London and beyond.
I arrived back at the car hire place, unloaded the car so it could be checked over, and all that was done just as Jools pulled in.
It is the weekend.
I put the case and bags into the Audi and Jools took us home, where four hungry cats were waiting for us.
Jools made a brew and we sat on the patio drinking them, the birds were busy in the bushes, taking food from the feeders. And for me there was jobs to do; unpack the case, put the other stuff away.
And for dinner I had bought some stinky cheese from beside the wine shop, and three fresh baguettes from the bakery beside the cheese shop.
I had thought ahead.
We made one of the baguettes disappear and most of the cheese, meaning we would have to go out to buy some more in the morning.
But all jobs done, so we listened to the radio before going to bed at eight. I was back home and it was the weekend.
But I didn't.
And maybe just as well, as the storms rumbled on for nearly twelve hours, only clearing away just before six in the morning, by which time I had been awake since four.
I decided to stay to have breakfast and travel in daylight. And as I had all day, there was no rush, and if I planned it right, I could drop the hire car off and Jools collect me on her way home from work.
So, at half six I went for breakfast, fruit and yogurt followed by a roll with sprinkles. Gonna miss those!
And three cups of coffee, I was going to need those as I was bleary-eyed after for early mornings.
Back in the room I pack, do one final check to make sure I had left nothing behind, then went to the front desk to pay.
That settled, I loaded the car and programmed the sat nav to the last place in Kent it had been driven to; somewhere in Ashford. I started the car, and the car told me I had nine hours to go, whch I thought was way too long.
Although the thunder had stopped, rain fell down pretty hard and the light, which was on the third day after the longest day, was pretty poor. On top of that, the roads were very wet, so I took my time, driving onto the motorway and then following the directions, heading south and west towards France.
I won't like, there was one time on the way to Eindhoven when I thought the car was taking me to to east Belgium and maybe even Germany, but after a series of junctions the road signs listen Antwerp. I knew I was on the right course.
The rain continued to fall, and I pressed on at or below the speed limit.
The car, a hybrid, didn't quite eat the miles, but was pleasant enough and comfortable to drive, and with the sat nav, I didn't get lost.
By Eindhoven, the rain had stopped just, but I knew there would be traffic here like nowhere else. And some 5 miles from the start of the ringroad, I was in stationary traffic, inching forward, though maybe not as bad as I make it sounds.
Onto the ringroad, and having always suffered traffic here, even in the middle of the night, I was sure it would take half an hour to get to the Kennedy Tunnel and the open road beyond. But in fact, the traffic cleared after the next junction, and soon we were up to 70kmh, and the junctions and interchanges just flew by.
I didn't complain.
Out onto the open road then, down to Brugge, and onto the main road to Calais, I would be at the Tunnel at about eleven, and maybe back in the UK an hour later, or at the same time due to the time difference.
I was cruising now, even as the rain began to fall again, but traffic was so light, and hardly any UK cars on the road. Maybe I passed two in the last hour.
The last hold up was entering France where all traffic is forced through the car park of the old customs post so two bored looking policemen could look at every vehicle as it passed at walking pace. I saw no cars stopped, and was soon roaring back to cruising speed.
A quick stop in Calais for some Belgian beer at Calais Vin, and onto the Tunnel complex, and I found many, many UK registed cars, and cars from all over Europe waiting to get to Folkestone.
I booked in at the first set of barriers, and should have gone straight on, but there was purple markings on the road, the colour of the Flexi plus lane, pointing to the right. I went right.
And joined the back of the queue for all the standard ticket holders waiting to get on a train, and no way out to correct my mistake.
No markings on the road either to say if there were one or two lanes, so we inched our way round the various car parks and up to the French customs post, I got to show my passport and was allowed through, where the six or more lanes from the French side went into three or four for the UK border, with no signage agan to tell people what to do.
It was a mess.
I got into a lane that had fewer cars, and as I got near the front, the Renault at the border had trouble with one of their passports.
Big trouble.
Ten, twenty minutes went by and nothing moved. They sat there and guards came to watch over what was happening. The car between me and the Renault was a brand new black Ferrari, and the gue drapped in gold was very impatient. His hand tapping on the roof of his car. And at one point he got out to complain and was told, in no uncertain terms, to shut up and get back in his car.
I looked in my rear view mirror and the van behind had given up and joined another lane, so I reversed back and did the same.
Mr Ferrari still sat there as the officials dealt with the Renault.
I got through, went to the lounge for a snadwich, crisps, and a couple of drinks, then got back in the car to go to the waiting area, just as the barrier lifted and we were allowed to go to the ramp, and after a short wait, allowed onto the train.
Phew.
I ate the sandwich and crisps, before the train pulled away. I would be back in Folkestone just after one, so I called Jools to pick me up at the car hire place.
All settled.
We arrived back and we are let off very quickly, I take the lane to the A20, while most are heading up the motorway to London and beyond.
I arrived back at the car hire place, unloaded the car so it could be checked over, and all that was done just as Jools pulled in.
It is the weekend.
I put the case and bags into the Audi and Jools took us home, where four hungry cats were waiting for us.
Jools made a brew and we sat on the patio drinking them, the birds were busy in the bushes, taking food from the feeders. And for me there was jobs to do; unpack the case, put the other stuff away.
And for dinner I had bought some stinky cheese from beside the wine shop, and three fresh baguettes from the bakery beside the cheese shop.
I had thought ahead.
We made one of the baguettes disappear and most of the cheese, meaning we would have to go out to buy some more in the morning.
But all jobs done, so we listened to the radio before going to bed at eight. I was back home and it was the weekend.
Six wasted years
Six years ago today, the UK voted to leave the EU.
That ended with the Johnson Government enforced just about the hardest form of Brexit on the nation.
That was a political choice.
His ready made deal was somewhat undercooked, and now despite promising in the 2019 Election manifesto that there would be no more Brexit negotiations, the past two and a half years have been full of negotiations and demands for yet more negotiations.
This is not the Brexit that was promised the electorate, it was the one some of us predicted.
And here we are.
Five and a haf years after the referendum, Johnson created the post of Brexit Oportunities Minister for JRM. So far he has asked readers of the Daily Express and has now published a dashboard on a Government website stating the number of EU laws in each department of Government.
My day job is as a management systems auditor, and ket to making decisions is the "plan, do, check, act cycle". And part of that is management review where top or senior management looks back at the data from the previous year before making strategic decisions for the next year. But also the expected outcome of those decisions is clearly stated, and if the outcomes are not as expected then as part of the cycle further changes and decisions can be made.
The point is that five and a half years after the referendum, creating a post to discover how best to make the most of the vote to leave is cack-handed to say the least. And on top fo that, JRM's plain refusal to publish any economic impacts Brexit has had.
You and I know that if the data was positive, he's not shut up about it.
And here we are.
Brexit has happened, there is no going back. But there is normalising relations with the EU, sharing standards in all aspects of trade, but to do that the reality of the disaster that Brexit has brought on the country and economy must be faced. While Brexit is not to blame for a lot of our ills, its made most of them worse, and will continue to do so.
Unfilled jobs are economic activity not undertaken and wealth created either for the individual, business or national economy. Multiply that by the hundreds and hundreds of thousands of unfilled job vacancies, then you will come to realise that the UK is adrift on a sea of stagnation, and that will bring further inflation, reduction in living standards and increase in living costs.
The spiral is ever downwards.
The time and energy the UK and the EU spent on Brexit could have been spent on something that actually made both sides richer, not poorer, but that was a choice the UK forced on the EU and itself.
That ended with the Johnson Government enforced just about the hardest form of Brexit on the nation.
That was a political choice.
His ready made deal was somewhat undercooked, and now despite promising in the 2019 Election manifesto that there would be no more Brexit negotiations, the past two and a half years have been full of negotiations and demands for yet more negotiations.
This is not the Brexit that was promised the electorate, it was the one some of us predicted.
And here we are.
Five and a haf years after the referendum, Johnson created the post of Brexit Oportunities Minister for JRM. So far he has asked readers of the Daily Express and has now published a dashboard on a Government website stating the number of EU laws in each department of Government.
My day job is as a management systems auditor, and ket to making decisions is the "plan, do, check, act cycle". And part of that is management review where top or senior management looks back at the data from the previous year before making strategic decisions for the next year. But also the expected outcome of those decisions is clearly stated, and if the outcomes are not as expected then as part of the cycle further changes and decisions can be made.
The point is that five and a half years after the referendum, creating a post to discover how best to make the most of the vote to leave is cack-handed to say the least. And on top fo that, JRM's plain refusal to publish any economic impacts Brexit has had.
You and I know that if the data was positive, he's not shut up about it.
And here we are.
Brexit has happened, there is no going back. But there is normalising relations with the EU, sharing standards in all aspects of trade, but to do that the reality of the disaster that Brexit has brought on the country and economy must be faced. While Brexit is not to blame for a lot of our ills, its made most of them worse, and will continue to do so.
Unfilled jobs are economic activity not undertaken and wealth created either for the individual, business or national economy. Multiply that by the hundreds and hundreds of thousands of unfilled job vacancies, then you will come to realise that the UK is adrift on a sea of stagnation, and that will bring further inflation, reduction in living standards and increase in living costs.
The spiral is ever downwards.
The time and energy the UK and the EU spent on Brexit could have been spent on something that actually made both sides richer, not poorer, but that was a choice the UK forced on the EU and itself.
Friday, 24 June 2022
Ophrys × albertiana
Last month I went looking for a hybrid orchid.
I had a good idea where to go, it had to be a site with both parent plants, and the hybrid would have traits of both parents.
That was the theory. Anyway.
I also knew which site to go it, and where to look on the site as well, as I have visited twice last year, though too late to see anything of than Bee Orchids.
It was a clear and sunny morning. Also, very early.
The downs were soaked with dew, and I hoped to be unseen. Warning signs had been put up last year, with wording that would tempt any orchidists who might have seen it, but that was now gone.
I walked up the track leading to the down, through light woodland until a small bowl was formed.
I knew where I had seen the Late Spiders last year, so began to look, and first of all, found none. I forgot it was still early in the season, and soon I spotted the pink sepals of an Ophrys, and it was a LSO.
I found several more, then on a ledge above one perfect small spike, then my eye was caught by something to its left.
It looked like a Bee, and yet had the upturned lip of an LSO, the lip markings were of a Bee.
Was this it?
I thought so.
I though half a dozen shots, and abandoned the search, as I didn't want to damage the site and I had found what I was looking for.
I thought.
I have to say, I was so full of joy I had to tell someone. That someone was a guy who had come down from the Midlands to see our star plants.
I told him, and then had to say, but I can't show you.
I wasn't going to tell anyone else, but I knew it had to be verified, so after a couple of days I wrote to the county recorders, and after a couple of mails Alfie confirmed it was the hybrid. I gave them the grid reference and date of discovery, and this will be added to the county records.
So, there we have it.
Amazingly, the other LSO hybrid might have been found this year too, Ophrys x obscura, or the ESO x LSO, this would be a very special find, as it is rarer than the one I found. That yet to be confirmed.
I had a good idea where to go, it had to be a site with both parent plants, and the hybrid would have traits of both parents.
That was the theory. Anyway.
I also knew which site to go it, and where to look on the site as well, as I have visited twice last year, though too late to see anything of than Bee Orchids.
It was a clear and sunny morning. Also, very early.
The downs were soaked with dew, and I hoped to be unseen. Warning signs had been put up last year, with wording that would tempt any orchidists who might have seen it, but that was now gone.
I walked up the track leading to the down, through light woodland until a small bowl was formed.
I knew where I had seen the Late Spiders last year, so began to look, and first of all, found none. I forgot it was still early in the season, and soon I spotted the pink sepals of an Ophrys, and it was a LSO.
I found several more, then on a ledge above one perfect small spike, then my eye was caught by something to its left.
It looked like a Bee, and yet had the upturned lip of an LSO, the lip markings were of a Bee.
Was this it?
I thought so.
I though half a dozen shots, and abandoned the search, as I didn't want to damage the site and I had found what I was looking for.
I thought.
I have to say, I was so full of joy I had to tell someone. That someone was a guy who had come down from the Midlands to see our star plants.
I told him, and then had to say, but I can't show you.
I wasn't going to tell anyone else, but I knew it had to be verified, so after a couple of days I wrote to the county recorders, and after a couple of mails Alfie confirmed it was the hybrid. I gave them the grid reference and date of discovery, and this will be added to the county records.
So, there we have it.
Amazingly, the other LSO hybrid might have been found this year too, Ophrys x obscura, or the ESO x LSO, this would be a very special find, as it is rarer than the one I found. That yet to be confirmed.
Thursday 23rd June 2022
Another day in paradise. Or the Netherlands to give it its proper name.
And it is the Netherlands and not Holland. Holland is, just the most southern provence I believe.
On our two hour plus drive the other side of Rotterdam, Maartin asked me as to why we Brits call his country Holland and not Netherlands.
I had to admit, I did not know.
Nor for that matter, why do we call those from Holland, or the Netherands, Dutch?
I have no idea.
What Maartin had planned for us on Thursday was a trip to a construction site for part of the audit. And due to an outbreak of COVID in the offices, the pool car is quarantined, or something. Or the person who is quarantining has the keys and no one can go and get them. And as I had a car paid by for the company, rather than hire a second car and mine sitting outside the hotel, I would drive.
OK, then.
I made sure that the start was later this day. A start of seven so I could have breakfast before going to the office, if I could remember the way, and from there we would drive to the polders near the coast.
Breakfast is always worth getting up for: two fine granary triangular rolls with butter and sprinkles. I have no idea why it works, but it does, and the rolls warm enough so the sprinkles melted to a goo. Two cups of smooth coffee, and I was ready to go.
The office was just a five minute drive away, it should be so easy to get to. I did have to find my way back to the main road through McDonalds, which should be simple, but a swarm of roadsigns set to confuse. Being early, I went the wrong way down a one way street, did an illegal turn and was on the main road.
Over the bridge once on the motorway, take the next junction, round the huge roundabaout and then take the left hand lane onto the retail park to the offices. Maartin was waiting.
He gets in, programs the sat nav for the nearest twon to the site, and off we set, back to the motorway and heading east and south, the road ran parallel with the new freight line from Rotterdam into Germany, but I saw no trains.
Rotterdam is a major city in the country, and is notorious for jams. We were stuck for half an hour in traffic inching along round the city towards Europort.
Europort is another city, really, mile upon mile of docks, wharfs, refineries and so on and on, with an ever expanding network of motorways that link the various areas of the port together with the city and the rest of Europe.
Maartin told me that Germany doesn't have the capacity for containers on trains, so despite the new freight line running into it's industial heartlands, their freight goes mostly by road. The roads were indeed jammed of truch carrying containers and tanks.
The air was thick with the tang of chemcials, it can't be healthy. And for the most part, this is Europe's port, bringing in goods and materials from around the world, just passing through the Netherands, going elsewhere, and the country has built ports and roads and railways to make it easier for other countries.
Just wen it seems there would be no end to the port, we took a turning off a roundabout, and we were back in farmland.
Towns and villages thinned out, until we took a country track across farmalnd which bordered marshes, and there miles from anywhere a team is erecting over a dozen turbines.
They had no idea what to expect, other than someone from central functions was coming to do a compliance audit. I could see the panic in their eyes.
Except the site manager.
He knew his eggs, and was calm.
We talked and audited for four hours, I found out some stuff, and make notes.
Time was getting on, and I had hoped to do one more session back at the office, so just before midday we set off back to the office on the other side of the country, retracing our steps back through the part and beside the freight railway line.
We stopped off to refuel. I buy two Frikadellen and a drink, which I make disappear. We ate sitting on rubbish-strewn grass verge, traffic roared nearby on the motowat, but on the dyke above, friends talked as they cycled to nowhere in particular.
Back in the car for the last hour to the office, and the last person to be audited was in a meeting and so it never really happened. I could have made a scene, but why make a scene?
I write up my notes, then at four I present my findings, and we talk for an hour.
I had been putting off a trip into Arnham until today, I had brought my camera and was primed. When we walked out of the office, I was confronted by a black sky full of the promise of rain and probably a storm.
Its due to start at six, said Maartin. I looked at my watch, it was twenty past five.
Sigh.
I drove along the main route into the city, following signs to the centraal car park, until the signs vanished.
I drove on, until I came to an interchange. I should have taken the right turn, but went straight on, and by which time the rain started.
It was getting heavier too.
I realised I had no idea how to get back to the hotel. I decided that if I headed north I would come to the motorway and if I turned east I would come to the hotel, or near it.
If I was heading north, of course.
Traffic was jammed heading into the city, but I kept heading north until I came to the motorway, I turned east and hoped it would look familiar in time.
We came to the bridge and I relaxed, I had done it. Only the main three carriageways were separated from the turn off until I was past it, meaning I had to go to the next junction, through two miles of jams and find a way to turn round. This I did and was back in the hotel car park 15 minutes later. The rain hammered down and the thunder and lightning had started. Arnham must be some kind of lightning magnet, as the storm sat over the city for nearly twelve hours, flashing and banging away. I went for dinner and had ribs, which were not the best I have had, but were ok. I lay in bed, listening to the storm and the rain coming down. And fell asleep.
And it is the Netherlands and not Holland. Holland is, just the most southern provence I believe.
On our two hour plus drive the other side of Rotterdam, Maartin asked me as to why we Brits call his country Holland and not Netherlands.
I had to admit, I did not know.
Nor for that matter, why do we call those from Holland, or the Netherands, Dutch?
I have no idea.
What Maartin had planned for us on Thursday was a trip to a construction site for part of the audit. And due to an outbreak of COVID in the offices, the pool car is quarantined, or something. Or the person who is quarantining has the keys and no one can go and get them. And as I had a car paid by for the company, rather than hire a second car and mine sitting outside the hotel, I would drive.
OK, then.
I made sure that the start was later this day. A start of seven so I could have breakfast before going to the office, if I could remember the way, and from there we would drive to the polders near the coast.
Breakfast is always worth getting up for: two fine granary triangular rolls with butter and sprinkles. I have no idea why it works, but it does, and the rolls warm enough so the sprinkles melted to a goo. Two cups of smooth coffee, and I was ready to go.
The office was just a five minute drive away, it should be so easy to get to. I did have to find my way back to the main road through McDonalds, which should be simple, but a swarm of roadsigns set to confuse. Being early, I went the wrong way down a one way street, did an illegal turn and was on the main road.
Over the bridge once on the motorway, take the next junction, round the huge roundabaout and then take the left hand lane onto the retail park to the offices. Maartin was waiting.
He gets in, programs the sat nav for the nearest twon to the site, and off we set, back to the motorway and heading east and south, the road ran parallel with the new freight line from Rotterdam into Germany, but I saw no trains.
Rotterdam is a major city in the country, and is notorious for jams. We were stuck for half an hour in traffic inching along round the city towards Europort.
Europort is another city, really, mile upon mile of docks, wharfs, refineries and so on and on, with an ever expanding network of motorways that link the various areas of the port together with the city and the rest of Europe.
Maartin told me that Germany doesn't have the capacity for containers on trains, so despite the new freight line running into it's industial heartlands, their freight goes mostly by road. The roads were indeed jammed of truch carrying containers and tanks.
The air was thick with the tang of chemcials, it can't be healthy. And for the most part, this is Europe's port, bringing in goods and materials from around the world, just passing through the Netherands, going elsewhere, and the country has built ports and roads and railways to make it easier for other countries.
Just wen it seems there would be no end to the port, we took a turning off a roundabout, and we were back in farmland.
Towns and villages thinned out, until we took a country track across farmalnd which bordered marshes, and there miles from anywhere a team is erecting over a dozen turbines.
They had no idea what to expect, other than someone from central functions was coming to do a compliance audit. I could see the panic in their eyes.
Except the site manager.
He knew his eggs, and was calm.
We talked and audited for four hours, I found out some stuff, and make notes.
Time was getting on, and I had hoped to do one more session back at the office, so just before midday we set off back to the office on the other side of the country, retracing our steps back through the part and beside the freight railway line.
We stopped off to refuel. I buy two Frikadellen and a drink, which I make disappear. We ate sitting on rubbish-strewn grass verge, traffic roared nearby on the motowat, but on the dyke above, friends talked as they cycled to nowhere in particular.
Back in the car for the last hour to the office, and the last person to be audited was in a meeting and so it never really happened. I could have made a scene, but why make a scene?
I write up my notes, then at four I present my findings, and we talk for an hour.
I had been putting off a trip into Arnham until today, I had brought my camera and was primed. When we walked out of the office, I was confronted by a black sky full of the promise of rain and probably a storm.
Its due to start at six, said Maartin. I looked at my watch, it was twenty past five.
Sigh.
I drove along the main route into the city, following signs to the centraal car park, until the signs vanished.
I drove on, until I came to an interchange. I should have taken the right turn, but went straight on, and by which time the rain started.
It was getting heavier too.
I realised I had no idea how to get back to the hotel. I decided that if I headed north I would come to the motorway and if I turned east I would come to the hotel, or near it.
If I was heading north, of course.
Traffic was jammed heading into the city, but I kept heading north until I came to the motorway, I turned east and hoped it would look familiar in time.
We came to the bridge and I relaxed, I had done it. Only the main three carriageways were separated from the turn off until I was past it, meaning I had to go to the next junction, through two miles of jams and find a way to turn round. This I did and was back in the hotel car park 15 minutes later. The rain hammered down and the thunder and lightning had started. Arnham must be some kind of lightning magnet, as the storm sat over the city for nearly twelve hours, flashing and banging away. I went for dinner and had ribs, which were not the best I have had, but were ok. I lay in bed, listening to the storm and the rain coming down. And fell asleep.
Thursday, 23 June 2022
Wednesday 22nd June 2022
Day two of the three day audit, and as a bonus, I had to be up and ready to leave the hotel at half five ready for a two hour plus drive to a warehouse.
This meant missing breakfast. And the early morning kick up the backside of a coffee.
Or two.
So, I set the alarm for five and went to bed early.
And the auditee was to meet my in the hotel car park at half five. Not the kind of meeting I had in mind when I agreed to come to Holland.
But at half five with the sun just rising, Maartin was waiting, so we shook hands and got in my car. We have to fill up first, I says So began the hunt for a petrol station that was open.
Halfway across town we found one that accepted payment at the pumps, so once full, we could set course for north east Netherlands.
Now I have to say at this point, west Ntherlands, around Amsterdam and surrounding areas is an almost total man-made landscape, there is no room for nature. And having worked there for some time, and flown over many times, it was easy to believe all Holland was like that. But on our two hour drive we passed through the national forest, a journey that took half an hour at 60mph. We saw trees, trees and more trees.
Which was nice.
Our eventual destination was the city of Groningen, which I guess is Holland's Norwich, in that its not on the way to anywhere and you don't go here by accident.
It'll be lovely when its finished.
They're building a new motorway through the centre of town, never a good look, and its a long way from being completed. What I saw, the whole town is a building site.
Our destination was a warehouse on a faceless industrial estate, where I met with a service manager and his small team.
We had coffee, talked, had another coffee and talked some more.
The morning passed
Our schedule meant we had to be back in Arnham by two, so we leave the warehouse and climb into the car, which in the hot sunshine was melting.
I was directed through the roadworks in the city centre, and head back down south, past miles of protesting Dutch farmers who were hellbent on blocking roads to protest about something.
Maartin talks all the way. He had talked the two hours in the morning, and he held views on most things, but mostly football. I let him talk about Vitese, his team, and he was happy to do so.
Back in the office for more coffee, only to find that the next suditee had declined the meeting and was nowhere to be found.
And so eneded the second day at three ten hours after it started.
I should have gone into the centre of the city, but was too pooped. I'll go tomorrow once the audit's finsiehed, I said.
Back at the hotel, I go to McDonalds for a Coke as I was very thirty. Can't just have a coke, I says to myself. Have some McNuggets. Six don't sound too many, twelve too much. So I have nine.
They were shit.
It's was I expected.
But the Coke was cold and wet.
Back in my room until seven, then to the restaurant for tomato soup and burgers, and listening to the two German couples on the next table complain.
Not sure if they were complaining, it sounded like it. They might have been telling jokes, who knows.
The burger was average, but the fries and fritsaus was wonderful. As was the double glass of tripel.
Phew.
And up at seven in the morning, for another trip, this time to south west Netherlands, to actual Holland.
This meant missing breakfast. And the early morning kick up the backside of a coffee.
Or two.
So, I set the alarm for five and went to bed early.
And the auditee was to meet my in the hotel car park at half five. Not the kind of meeting I had in mind when I agreed to come to Holland.
But at half five with the sun just rising, Maartin was waiting, so we shook hands and got in my car. We have to fill up first, I says So began the hunt for a petrol station that was open.
Halfway across town we found one that accepted payment at the pumps, so once full, we could set course for north east Netherlands.
Now I have to say at this point, west Ntherlands, around Amsterdam and surrounding areas is an almost total man-made landscape, there is no room for nature. And having worked there for some time, and flown over many times, it was easy to believe all Holland was like that. But on our two hour drive we passed through the national forest, a journey that took half an hour at 60mph. We saw trees, trees and more trees.
Which was nice.
Our eventual destination was the city of Groningen, which I guess is Holland's Norwich, in that its not on the way to anywhere and you don't go here by accident.
It'll be lovely when its finished.
They're building a new motorway through the centre of town, never a good look, and its a long way from being completed. What I saw, the whole town is a building site.
Our destination was a warehouse on a faceless industrial estate, where I met with a service manager and his small team.
We had coffee, talked, had another coffee and talked some more.
The morning passed
Our schedule meant we had to be back in Arnham by two, so we leave the warehouse and climb into the car, which in the hot sunshine was melting.
I was directed through the roadworks in the city centre, and head back down south, past miles of protesting Dutch farmers who were hellbent on blocking roads to protest about something.
Maartin talks all the way. He had talked the two hours in the morning, and he held views on most things, but mostly football. I let him talk about Vitese, his team, and he was happy to do so.
Back in the office for more coffee, only to find that the next suditee had declined the meeting and was nowhere to be found.
And so eneded the second day at three ten hours after it started.
I should have gone into the centre of the city, but was too pooped. I'll go tomorrow once the audit's finsiehed, I said.
Back at the hotel, I go to McDonalds for a Coke as I was very thirty. Can't just have a coke, I says to myself. Have some McNuggets. Six don't sound too many, twelve too much. So I have nine.
They were shit.
It's was I expected.
But the Coke was cold and wet.
Back in my room until seven, then to the restaurant for tomato soup and burgers, and listening to the two German couples on the next table complain.
Not sure if they were complaining, it sounded like it. They might have been telling jokes, who knows.
The burger was average, but the fries and fritsaus was wonderful. As was the double glass of tripel.
Phew.
And up at seven in the morning, for another trip, this time to south west Netherlands, to actual Holland.
Wednesday, 22 June 2022
Tuesday 21st June 2022
Summer solstice.
Darkness is coming.
But not yet.
I awake at half five in my spartan hotel room. Outside the sun is up and already getting warm. I have three hours before I am to be picked up, so I can have a shower, mess around online and gird my loins for the day ahead. I mean, I am supposed to be here for work.
Breakfast is at half six, with the promise of sprinkles. Sprinkles are what we used to call hundreds and thousands, and it is a staple of Dutch breakfasts and snacks. I am glad to report there was sprinkles. And fruit. And coffee.
Decent, smooth coffee.
I am bored by quarter to eight, so go outside where I was sure there would be seating in the sunshine.
There was none.
So I wander around, look at some wildflowers and the traffic going by. It doesn't hold my attention, so go to wait inside.
45 minutes pass.
Maartin arrives in his dusty Renault estate, and takes me and his dust collection over the river to where the office is. Or would have but for the hundreds of yards of solid traffic in the way. We inch down the main road, meaning when we do get through the traffic lights and down to the office, its time to start the day.
I am an auditor, therefore I audit.
I audit for seven straight hours, I am hard. I am auditor.
There is a break for lunch, and I have three sandwiches, a salad and a litre of orange juice to myself. I eat one of the sandwiches, and leave the rest. I was assured once I had left others would finish off the food.
Back to auditing.
I was done at half four, and the final action was to arrange the next day, a visit to a service site which was a two hour drive away. We would go in the hire car, and have to leave at half five.
Eeek.
I was dropped off back at the hotel, I mess around online for an hour or so until it was half six, then go to the restaurant for dinner. A clear soup with tiny meatballs. I mean, I assume they were meatballs. Followed by "devil's soup". Be careful, it's spicy the waiter told me.
I had my doubts.
And I was right. I mean, there was warmth there, but not Madras hot for sure. I ate it all, then had a coffee before going back to my room to get my head down. An early start in the morning.
Darkness is coming.
But not yet.
I awake at half five in my spartan hotel room. Outside the sun is up and already getting warm. I have three hours before I am to be picked up, so I can have a shower, mess around online and gird my loins for the day ahead. I mean, I am supposed to be here for work.
Breakfast is at half six, with the promise of sprinkles. Sprinkles are what we used to call hundreds and thousands, and it is a staple of Dutch breakfasts and snacks. I am glad to report there was sprinkles. And fruit. And coffee.
Decent, smooth coffee.
I am bored by quarter to eight, so go outside where I was sure there would be seating in the sunshine.
There was none.
So I wander around, look at some wildflowers and the traffic going by. It doesn't hold my attention, so go to wait inside.
45 minutes pass.
Maartin arrives in his dusty Renault estate, and takes me and his dust collection over the river to where the office is. Or would have but for the hundreds of yards of solid traffic in the way. We inch down the main road, meaning when we do get through the traffic lights and down to the office, its time to start the day.
I am an auditor, therefore I audit.
I audit for seven straight hours, I am hard. I am auditor.
There is a break for lunch, and I have three sandwiches, a salad and a litre of orange juice to myself. I eat one of the sandwiches, and leave the rest. I was assured once I had left others would finish off the food.
Back to auditing.
I was done at half four, and the final action was to arrange the next day, a visit to a service site which was a two hour drive away. We would go in the hire car, and have to leave at half five.
Eeek.
I was dropped off back at the hotel, I mess around online for an hour or so until it was half six, then go to the restaurant for dinner. A clear soup with tiny meatballs. I mean, I assume they were meatballs. Followed by "devil's soup". Be careful, it's spicy the waiter told me.
I had my doubts.
And I was right. I mean, there was warmth there, but not Madras hot for sure. I ate it all, then had a coffee before going back to my room to get my head down. An early start in the morning.
Tuesday, 21 June 2022
Monday 20th June 2022
On the road again.
Despite being told all my time this year would be spent on the process project, so it came as a surprise to be asked to go to Holland to conduct an audit.
This would mean actual travel, and as it was Holland I felt that I could just about justify driving rather than flying and then driving. It helps living a 15 minute drive from the Tunner, or a five minute drive to the port, of course.
But I have got rather attached and used to working from home, where I do my thing and let my mind wander as it wants, sometimes cokking, sometimes walking, sometimes butterfly chasing in the garden and beyond.
But driving meant no airports, so no delays, and the possibility of duty free to be brought back.
I liked that idea.
This meant packing, and then Jools dropping me in town as she went to work, and me wandering around taking shots.
As usual.
But, I sat on a bench and watched the ferries come and go for half an hour rather than look for things to snap, in fact I just had the compact with me, but the warm sunshine felt good, and a dose of people watching.
The only cloud on the horizon was my credit card; would it be unblocked, and if it hadn't been cleared, what could I do?
So, come eight I walked over Townwall Street to the Enterprise lot, where they were expecting me.
Which is good.
Is the car OK to take out of the country?
No. And the process for that takes three days.
But, I'll make some calls.
And he did.
And got permission.
But the credit card thing would only be resolved once the computer generated the rental agreement.
So, I was shown round the car, told how it started, and once happy and I had signed, was the credit card required.
It went through.
Yay.
I drove back home, where I had breakfast and booked travel across the Channel, the messing around at the car hire place meant I was already behind schedule, so I booked the slightly more expensive flexy ticket, but that meant I could drive onto the next train once at the termimal. That booked and paid for, I did some final packing and loaded the car before driving out and towards Folkestone.
I drove along the A20, taking the back entrance into the terminal, drove to the kiosk and told I had not completed a part that had not been on the e-mail confirmation, so had to go into the terminal building to clear that up, and to buy a UK sticker for the car. I bought a magnetic one, so not to ruin the paint finish if it had to be taken off, only to find that all the bodywork at the back of the car was not metal, or not of anything that a magnet would stick too.
So at the Flexi lounge place, I had to buy a second, sticky one, and would have to hope it peeled off when I got back and left the paint on the car.
I loaded up with supplied for the journey, another bonus for going flexi, had a coffee, by which time it was time to board the next train.
I joined the queue at the barrier, then in 5 minutes, when that lifted, we drove round to the slope leading to the platform to begin boarding. First time I have done this in three years!
I drove on, up to the upper leavel, then along through the train until told to stop by a guy, apply the parking brake and turn the engine off. And once the train was loaded, the doors closed and announcements nearly over, the train began to move, accelerating towards the tunnel and under the cliff and the sea bed.
It never ceases to amaze me that I drove a car onto a train, wich then goes under the sea and all the time I can use my mobile phone. If this isn't the future we were promised, I don't know what is.
We arrived in France to cloudy weather, and the clock having moved on an hour. I had a four hour drive through northern France, Belgium and Holland. I could not program the car sat nav, but managed my phone, so I set off, heading north to Dunkirk and the Belgian border.
I have some hybrid thing to drive, its OK, but sluggish, the petrol engine has little power, but crusies quietly once at the right speed. I know most of the route, the first part to Ostende is what I did when I worked on Nobelwid, then to Brugge and Gent, which is the way I used to drive to and fro when I was posted to Germany.
Next city was Antwerp, with its recreation of the 7th circle of hell, the Ring.
The Ring is a multi lane, multi junction ring road that starts from the Kennedy Tunnel and is always jammed packed with traffic at any hour of the day. Three on a Monday afternoon would be no different. And no way round it, really, just had to inch along until after half an hour, reached the junction and left the Ring, accelerating as I drove through Wommelgem.
Yes, you read that right.
Further on, each town came with its own mini Ring traffic jam, giving me time to admire the wild flowers growing in the central reservations.
I passed into Holland, and I was now less than an hour away from the hotel.
Yay.
I reached the hotel, on the edge of an idustrial estate beside a lazy river, which is overshadowed by a power station that burns rubbish for its energy. The hotel is hidden behind a McDonalds, and from my hotel window thare is a KFC too.
But the hotel is fine, modern, clean and with lots of cold beer on tap. Most of the other guests turned out to be workers away from home too. Not that I am a worker, as such, but away for work.
I have a good dinner, curry soup followed by burger and fries, and with half a litre of silly strong Belgian beer on tap.
Yay.
Somehow, it was nine in the evening, and the much proised review of the agenda for the morning didn't happen. Again. I listened to some radio and went to bed.
Phew.
Despite being told all my time this year would be spent on the process project, so it came as a surprise to be asked to go to Holland to conduct an audit.
This would mean actual travel, and as it was Holland I felt that I could just about justify driving rather than flying and then driving. It helps living a 15 minute drive from the Tunner, or a five minute drive to the port, of course.
But I have got rather attached and used to working from home, where I do my thing and let my mind wander as it wants, sometimes cokking, sometimes walking, sometimes butterfly chasing in the garden and beyond.
But driving meant no airports, so no delays, and the possibility of duty free to be brought back.
I liked that idea.
This meant packing, and then Jools dropping me in town as she went to work, and me wandering around taking shots.
As usual.
But, I sat on a bench and watched the ferries come and go for half an hour rather than look for things to snap, in fact I just had the compact with me, but the warm sunshine felt good, and a dose of people watching.
The only cloud on the horizon was my credit card; would it be unblocked, and if it hadn't been cleared, what could I do?
So, come eight I walked over Townwall Street to the Enterprise lot, where they were expecting me.
Which is good.
Is the car OK to take out of the country?
No. And the process for that takes three days.
But, I'll make some calls.
And he did.
And got permission.
But the credit card thing would only be resolved once the computer generated the rental agreement.
So, I was shown round the car, told how it started, and once happy and I had signed, was the credit card required.
It went through.
Yay.
I drove back home, where I had breakfast and booked travel across the Channel, the messing around at the car hire place meant I was already behind schedule, so I booked the slightly more expensive flexy ticket, but that meant I could drive onto the next train once at the termimal. That booked and paid for, I did some final packing and loaded the car before driving out and towards Folkestone.
I drove along the A20, taking the back entrance into the terminal, drove to the kiosk and told I had not completed a part that had not been on the e-mail confirmation, so had to go into the terminal building to clear that up, and to buy a UK sticker for the car. I bought a magnetic one, so not to ruin the paint finish if it had to be taken off, only to find that all the bodywork at the back of the car was not metal, or not of anything that a magnet would stick too.
So at the Flexi lounge place, I had to buy a second, sticky one, and would have to hope it peeled off when I got back and left the paint on the car.
I loaded up with supplied for the journey, another bonus for going flexi, had a coffee, by which time it was time to board the next train.
I joined the queue at the barrier, then in 5 minutes, when that lifted, we drove round to the slope leading to the platform to begin boarding. First time I have done this in three years!
I drove on, up to the upper leavel, then along through the train until told to stop by a guy, apply the parking brake and turn the engine off. And once the train was loaded, the doors closed and announcements nearly over, the train began to move, accelerating towards the tunnel and under the cliff and the sea bed.
It never ceases to amaze me that I drove a car onto a train, wich then goes under the sea and all the time I can use my mobile phone. If this isn't the future we were promised, I don't know what is.
We arrived in France to cloudy weather, and the clock having moved on an hour. I had a four hour drive through northern France, Belgium and Holland. I could not program the car sat nav, but managed my phone, so I set off, heading north to Dunkirk and the Belgian border.
I have some hybrid thing to drive, its OK, but sluggish, the petrol engine has little power, but crusies quietly once at the right speed. I know most of the route, the first part to Ostende is what I did when I worked on Nobelwid, then to Brugge and Gent, which is the way I used to drive to and fro when I was posted to Germany.
Next city was Antwerp, with its recreation of the 7th circle of hell, the Ring.
The Ring is a multi lane, multi junction ring road that starts from the Kennedy Tunnel and is always jammed packed with traffic at any hour of the day. Three on a Monday afternoon would be no different. And no way round it, really, just had to inch along until after half an hour, reached the junction and left the Ring, accelerating as I drove through Wommelgem.
Yes, you read that right.
Further on, each town came with its own mini Ring traffic jam, giving me time to admire the wild flowers growing in the central reservations.
I passed into Holland, and I was now less than an hour away from the hotel.
Yay.
I reached the hotel, on the edge of an idustrial estate beside a lazy river, which is overshadowed by a power station that burns rubbish for its energy. The hotel is hidden behind a McDonalds, and from my hotel window thare is a KFC too.
But the hotel is fine, modern, clean and with lots of cold beer on tap. Most of the other guests turned out to be workers away from home too. Not that I am a worker, as such, but away for work.
I have a good dinner, curry soup followed by burger and fries, and with half a litre of silly strong Belgian beer on tap.
Yay.
Somehow, it was nine in the evening, and the much proised review of the agenda for the morning didn't happen. Again. I listened to some radio and went to bed.
Phew.
Sunday, 19 June 2022
Sunday 19th June 2022
How quickly the weekend slips through our fingers.
Already it was Sunday, and for the day's thrill I was going to see an extict UK orchid.
Two members of my Kent orchid group on FB also grow their own orchids, and one of them, Graham, said, casually, that his Summer Lady's Tresses was going into flower.
As you can imagine, these are closely related to Autumn Lady's Tresses, though flower earlier in the summer. Sadly, due to drainage of their damp habitats and predation by herbologists fot pressing, the orchid became extict in the UK in about 1959.
I agreed to drive to his house and snap the orchids.
So it was I left the house at eight, drove up the M20 to Leeds, then along through Boughton Monchelsea to his house.
When I left Dover, it was dark and cloudy with drops of rain falling. Thingsimproved as I went north, to the point there was actual sunshine on the outskirts of Maidstone.
I arrived dead on time at nine, knocked on their door, and Graham let me in, he showed me straight into their conservatory, where on the table were three twisted spikes, all in flower.
Summer Lady's Tresses.
Apart from the flowering period being earlier, the other difference with ALT was that the flowers are not twisted round the spike, but in a line straight up.
I took the small pot into the garden to take shots, some came out as if they were in the wild. Others were close ups.
Graham made a brew for us, then we talked orchids.
I said I would take him to see the tongue orchids, so we drove in convoy to the other side of Maidstone where, once parked, we found the spikes in very poor condition. I think they have been poisoned, but as Graham said, if that were the case plants around them would have been affected too, and they're not. One photographer had climbed the fence to get close shots, but they wouldn't have bothered now with the remains of three wilted spikes.
I had chores to run, so had to get back to Dover. I said goodbye and made it back to the motorway, then cruised back down south.
I stopped off at Western Heights to take shots of the CSOs that thrive there. Despite it being only the middle of June, most spikes are now going to seed, turning brown. And because of the cloudy conditions and keen cool breeze, no butterflies were seen.
One final call to B&Q where I had to pick up a new toilet seat and some bird seed, meaning I got back home at midday, four hours after leaving and two hours later than I told Jools I would be.
Mike was here, talking about some ongoing family issues, which I won't go into here, but are quite serious. Talks went on for another hour over brews.
Once Mike left, we had bacon butties for lunch, followed by croissants, as we had missed breakfast two days running.
And that was that.
I am off on my travels next week, so time is ever more precious, but slips by ever quicker.
Dinner was caprese and the leftover bread turned into crispy garlic bread, washed down with more wine.
And the day was nearly over. Just time to post shots of the wild flowers seen during the week on Twitter.
I had managed to sneeze whilst stretching earlier, thus ripping a muscle in my side. I was surprised to find I had any, but any cough or sneeze now was like I had been stabbed in the side.
Sleep would be fun.
Already it was Sunday, and for the day's thrill I was going to see an extict UK orchid.
Two members of my Kent orchid group on FB also grow their own orchids, and one of them, Graham, said, casually, that his Summer Lady's Tresses was going into flower.
As you can imagine, these are closely related to Autumn Lady's Tresses, though flower earlier in the summer. Sadly, due to drainage of their damp habitats and predation by herbologists fot pressing, the orchid became extict in the UK in about 1959.
I agreed to drive to his house and snap the orchids.
So it was I left the house at eight, drove up the M20 to Leeds, then along through Boughton Monchelsea to his house.
When I left Dover, it was dark and cloudy with drops of rain falling. Thingsimproved as I went north, to the point there was actual sunshine on the outskirts of Maidstone.
I arrived dead on time at nine, knocked on their door, and Graham let me in, he showed me straight into their conservatory, where on the table were three twisted spikes, all in flower.
Summer Lady's Tresses.
Apart from the flowering period being earlier, the other difference with ALT was that the flowers are not twisted round the spike, but in a line straight up.
I took the small pot into the garden to take shots, some came out as if they were in the wild. Others were close ups.
Graham made a brew for us, then we talked orchids.
I said I would take him to see the tongue orchids, so we drove in convoy to the other side of Maidstone where, once parked, we found the spikes in very poor condition. I think they have been poisoned, but as Graham said, if that were the case plants around them would have been affected too, and they're not. One photographer had climbed the fence to get close shots, but they wouldn't have bothered now with the remains of three wilted spikes.
I had chores to run, so had to get back to Dover. I said goodbye and made it back to the motorway, then cruised back down south.
I stopped off at Western Heights to take shots of the CSOs that thrive there. Despite it being only the middle of June, most spikes are now going to seed, turning brown. And because of the cloudy conditions and keen cool breeze, no butterflies were seen.
One final call to B&Q where I had to pick up a new toilet seat and some bird seed, meaning I got back home at midday, four hours after leaving and two hours later than I told Jools I would be.
Mike was here, talking about some ongoing family issues, which I won't go into here, but are quite serious. Talks went on for another hour over brews.
Once Mike left, we had bacon butties for lunch, followed by croissants, as we had missed breakfast two days running.
And that was that.
I am off on my travels next week, so time is ever more precious, but slips by ever quicker.
Dinner was caprese and the leftover bread turned into crispy garlic bread, washed down with more wine.
And the day was nearly over. Just time to post shots of the wild flowers seen during the week on Twitter.
I had managed to sneeze whilst stretching earlier, thus ripping a muscle in my side. I was surprised to find I had any, but any cough or sneeze now was like I had been stabbed in the side.
Sleep would be fun.
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