Sunday 28th May 2023

Up at six for the second and final day of the tour. Again, too early for breakfast, but I had a tea in the room, before packing.

I was staying in the island of Walney, the other side of the river from Barrow. I was happy in that one of our windfarms was named after the island, though I was careful to point this out to people, it wasn't me who named the farm or put up the WTG. However, the owner of the hotel didn't seem to mind.

Talking of the hotel, it was in a converted church, just over 100 years, and so was perfect. Only they didn't do food, and as I said the previous night, I couldn't be arsed to get anything for supper as the shops were a walk away and frankly, I was shattered.

I packed, and went to the car. And down at the end of the road, the views along the river were so good I just had to stop to take a shot.

I drove to the meeting point, and from there we drove in convoy eastwards, to the hills and a high pass over the Pennines.

In a village tucked into the fold of the fells, we took a narrow lane up.

Up and up it went, passing small meadows and limestone pavements, scattered with folks camping, or early walkers out with their dogs or just backpacks.

I know hills and mountains in the UK are mere bumps compared to most around the world, but at the highest point it felt like we were on the roof of the world, with views all round to the ends of the earth.

Or Leeds.

And on a south facing slope, we saw what we had come to see, hundreds of Early Purple Orchids, all at their peak, stretching from the road to the crest of the fell.

We got our cameras out and made hay, or taking hundreds of shots, anyway.

Weather and light was perfect, which is what you want on a tour like this.

We get back in the car and drive eastwards, into Yorkshire.

The pass sent downwards, hemmed in on both sides by drystone walls, it was narrow and twisty, but we met no other traffic except a couple of cyclists, in low gears, grinding their way to the summit.

Further down, we came to a picturesque town, and already visitor's cars lined the narrow streets, making progress tricky as more and more cars were arriving.

Through there, then turning to the south, we turned to Grassington, another tourist trap, but we were going somewhere close, a place that has the rarest of UK orchids, the Lady's Slipper.

If only the sat nav would work, we'd get there.

Our destination was a country park, family focussed one, with a nature trail. But also is where the best reintroduction program is for the ultra-rare Lady's Slipper Orchid.

At the booth, we talked to the guy and he said it was OK to take shots, and go under the rope to get closer looks, and shots.

We walk up a steep path, beside a bog meadow that is wonderful, packed full of plants you would normally have to walk miles over fells and bogs to see, and here they're right beside the path. But halfway up was the first of the Lady's Slippers, out in the sun, was already going over, but along the treeline there were more plants.

We went in and got close up shots of a plant with a single flower, but elsewhere there were young plants that were growing bind this season, but right at the back was a monster plant with 22 flowers, protected by a wire cage, to protect it from people like, me, photographers.

After getting our shots, we walk down to the restaurant, where I have a cream tea for breakfast, which we eat sitting outside on a picnic table.

It was half eleven, and time for me to go.

I bid farewell, and walked to the car, programmed the sat nav for Dover, 320 miles away.

Hit it!

The sat nav suggested I would be home at quarter past five, I thought that optimistic, but we shall see. The roads started narrow and twisting, but as time went on, wider and straighter until I reached Harrogate, where traffic slowed me down, and again to Knaresborough where there was more traffic.

But in the end to the A1, and I could put the hammer down to head south and to home.

Not much to report, traffic mostly light, so I could cruise at 70, stopping at Newark for a sandwich and dreadful hot dog. I didn't know it was dreadful, but it was. By the time I found out, I was back on the road.

And so without incident through Nottinghamshire, Rutland into Cambridgeshire, where I turned to Cambridge, then down the M11.

I had the final games of the season on the radio, all kicked off at half four, with only one out of Everton, Leicester and Leeds would stay up. Personally, I don't think any of them were good enough to stay up.

Finally onto the M25, round to Dartford and back in Kent, but with the M20 closed due to an accident, I went down the A2, but again, despite being a sunny Bank Holiday weekend, traffic was light, maybe because it was late afternoon.

I got back to Dover at half five, Jools came to collect me from the car hire office, and was back by six, in time to hear the last half hour of the football, where Everton survived.