The Quest (part 1)

The quest began on 22nd April 2012, when after a Google search I found that Early Spider Orchids were best found at Samphire Hoe. Here's what I wrote at the time:

"The plan on Sunday was to head to the cliffs to look for some orchids; Early Spider Orchids in particular. I Googled for the orchids before leaving the house and it seemed that Samphire Hoe was the best location in the country. So, a change of plan and we headed out through Dover to the Hoe.

As we parked up, another photographer was just returning to his car, and we passed the time of day, and he said where to go to see the orchids. He also told us of a site up the Elham Valley where more orchids can be found. We stored that information up, maybe for a bit of a mystery trip later.

We bumped into another photographer friend as he was getting out of his car, and we walked and talked as we headed to where the orchids were. Despite there being fine rolling grass covered hillocks, the orchids seemed to prefer to grow on the side of a track beside the railway line, and so we saw the occasional flash of pink and purple as the orchids had begun to bloom.

I guess the orchids were less than 3 inches high, and if you did not know they were there, you would just pass them; but through the viewfinder of a camera, the blooms are sensationally beautiful, looking like a small insect. I snapped them plenty, and once we had reached the slope leading to the beach at the foot of the cliffs, we headed back to the car to consult our large scale map to try and find the place the photographer mentioned.

Thankfully, we knew the area quite well, and with the map we thought we know where the meadow was. And we set off. Once in the Elham Valley we turned off after we passed through Elham, and took a right turn, then a left. And once the narrow lane had passed through a small wood, there was the lay-by, and a sign marking the site could be seen in the hedgerow.

We parked up, and headed out onto the meadow, being attracted by any flash of colour other than that of the grass. Most of the colour was from violets, bluebells, cowslips or primroses. Thinking that we would not find anything, I was distracted by a bee-fly which I wanted to snap as it settled. As Jools watched me, she noticed some pink in the brass around our feet. And as we inspected, we saw about half a dozen small orchids, each one forming a small pink pyramid. We laid down in the grass and snapped them, happy to have found the Early Purples."

Later that season we reurned to see the Monkeys, also saw Lady, Greater Butterfly and Man Orchids.

I bought a book, Harrap's Guide to the Orchids of UK and Ireland, and was fascinated by the sheer number of species. But for the first two seasons, we satyed in Kent and ticked off most of the species, mainly thanks to an "Orchid Safari" lead by a friend who lives near Sandwich.

I quickly learned that one Kent species I would be unlikely to find, and that was the Burnt Tip, which had not been seen for some years, and those who had seen it kept their mouths closed. So, in 2014, I decided we would go to Sussex, thus leaving the county, to see Burnt Tips on Mount Cabourne.

"Saturday.

It is half five in the morning, the sun has already risen although is hidden behind a veil of cloud. A family of starlings that has taken up residence in the hedge outside the bedroom window are making one heck of a noise, generally asking where the hell their breakfast is. We lay in bed until six then climb out, get dressed, feed the cat and get our stuff together.

Although Kent is a wonderful place for orchids, not all British orchids grow here, and some have become extinct. One Kentish orchid that is now extinct in the county is the Burnt Tip, which is found in small colonies in neighbouring East Sussex. I had asked one of my Flickr friends for directions to the biggest of these, and so we decided to set off for the 90 mile drive into Sussex and hunt for the orchids.

The roads were empty, and the cloudy and cool morning meant we made good time and fairly relaxed even on the M25 where the roadworks have now been completed and traffic flowed smoothly in the four lanes. A quick blast down the M23 to Burgess Hill, through the places where my ancestor’s grew up: Cowfold, Warninglid and Burgess Hill, places I knew from my childhood, but now are expensive places to live deep in the commuter belt.

Onwards to Brighton and then onto Lewes. At least with the sat nav we found Glynde very easily, found the parking area next to the village cricket green and the railway station. We got out, stretched and consulted the directions and map we have. At first it seemed simple enough, past the playing area, left past the post office and up the path.

Up being the operative word. Above us the South Downs towered. Well, I say towered, several hundred feet of chalk upland, dotted with sheep and it looked like birdmen. But it turned out to be paragliders who were throwing themselves off the down in the hope they did not crash to the ground. So, we tightened our belts and set off scattering shepp in our way.

Through the first gate and in front up us the path went in a straight line up the down. If that makes sense. We took our time, and in time we climbed up through the fields until we reached the second gate, beside which was a fine looking bench. Needless to say we had a sit down and surveyed the scene below us, and very fine it looked, even though the sun had not yet broken through.

Ahead of us now was the summit of the down, a huge round dome covered with sheep. OK, not covered but scattered. We sighed and set off, but taking regular stops to ‘admire the view’ below.

I should explain that what happened next was all our fault, and our inability to read the contours on a map. Anyway, on a small map supplied by my friend was an arrow as to where the orchids could be found, the fences marking the nature reserve seemed to match the area on the map, so the orchids should be a few hundred yards along the crest of the down, away from the iron age fort and paragliders. When in fact the orchids were down below, in the ‘bottom’. Anyway, at some point we would realise our mistake, no?

Well, at least the views were splendid down onto the river valley below, the railway tracks and the occasional train. And over the other side of the hill, the town of Lewes nestled looking all busy buy far enough away.

We found no orchids, but in fact the who nature reserve did not feel right for orchids, as it had been recently grazed as there was sheep and cow poo everywhere, even on the soles of our shoes! I tried the other side of the fence, balancing on the edge of the drop into the bottom below. After an hour I found a few Heath and Common Spotted spikes, but nothing like a small Lady.

It was nearing midday. I went to find Jools who had left me to it. We looked at the map again, and the directions. The I saw that the orchids were on the steep part of the hill in the bottom not on the main part of the down. In order not to miss them, I walked in a straight line down the down and back up the other side of the bottom, whilst Jools took the level but longer route around the top of the bottom.

I had given up all hope if truth be known, and by now the sun had come out so it was getting warm if not hot. And we had not brought our water with us. Silly us. At that point I saw many more orchid spikes, but still just Heath and Common Spotted. And then, I saw something different. And sure enough, standing alone on the side of the down was a single tiny orchid. A single spike which around the top was surrounded by people-shaped blooms which were almost white and the unopened ones which were dark purple, from which the orchid takes its name.

I snapped it from all angles, then moved on. Jools thought she had found one, but that turned out to be a false alarm. But then I saw another. And another. So did Jools. And around us were hundreds of the tiny orchids. We both took many, many shots, and we stunned how an orchid so small, well compared to the related Lady Orchid, could be so wonderful. Anyway, after half an hour and the time edging towards one, we were hot and very thirsty.

In the next post, we will head north and east, for a species that no longer exists.