Sunday 31st May 2026

Sunday. And I had friends coming down from Gloucestershire.

For orchids.

Obviously.

The temptation was to scrub phys, but Jools said, correctly, we should still go.

Up at half five, with enough time to feed the cats, test and jab Scully, make and drink coffee. And be ready to rock and roll come ten to seven.

Sundays are always quiet at the sports centre, at least at seven, and most who are there when it opens are going swimming.

We go upstairs to the gym, where there is just one guy in, doing weights. So we climb on the bike and get going.

At least there was The Parallel Universe to listen to, with Marc and Beverly Bob to listen to, from 1986. Or reading from an edition of Sounds from 1986.

Time flew, even though I was hot, and there was enough unplayed to fill Tuesday morning' work out as well.

Yay.

Back home for a brew, then off to Folkestone Services to meet Duncan and his mate, Andrew, for the first of several site visits.

I had enough time to have breakfast of a bacon and egg sarnie and a bottle of banana milkshake, then go outside to wait for them to arrive.

We go to a site where there was much to see. The long walk up the down was filled with Bee orchids just opening, and the occasional butterfly fluttering by.

We reached the site, and filled our boots with two species of orchids, rare variants and hybrids.

What to do with the rest of the day?

I mention Monkton Nature Reserve, and their nearly one thousand spikes of Man orchids. Yellow Man orchids.

It was agreed and we set off across the county, through Barham, Wingham and Preston, avoiding the main roads, until we reach the reserve. And there was plenty of parking too.

They were expecting a small roadside reserve, not a five hectare former quarry with nearly a dozen potential orchid species.

We spent a good two hours wandering around, and they delighted in the yellow Man. We also found a couple of Chalk Fragrant just opening, as well as SMO and CSO.

We stop for a cuppa and some shortbread, catching our breath before the short drive to Cliffsend and their desire to see the white SMO twins.

A cuckoo called from a distance, as we walked over the main road and into the reserve. We cut into the thick vegetation, and I find the two spikes straight away.

But the spikes were already browning off from the bottom of the spikes, a shame, but in these dry conditions, it is to be expected.

Another two minute drive away was Monk's Wall, and after parking I show them the Broomrape and Lizards beside the path, then we cross to the central reservation, where Duncan counted 72 Lizards in under a hundred metres, and many lacking most pigmentation.

I take a shot of them searching the central reservation, before we move on to the final destination.

Which was Sandwich Bay.

Sandwich Bay has usually been the mother lode of Lizards, not only in Kent, but in the UK. But two years of drought have wrought havoc on the site. Last year the hundreds of Lizards were in their tens, and most very small.

Which is when I went to the bypass to snap them, as some more water must have been thrown up from the roads, so the spikes there were normal size. As they are again this year.

So, after arriving at the Observatory, we walk to the meadow, after checking there was no bird ringing going on, so we could look at the SMO and Marsh helleborines.

Of the former there were many, but small spikes in flower, but of the Marsh helleborines, there was no sign, even of to the west of England, some were in flower before the weekend.

Duncan and I walked over the golf course to The Strand to check on the broomrapes, but only found two spikes of Bredstraw that were not totally brown, just the top branch was showing its yellow colour.

Duncan lent down and sniffed. He could just make out the clover scent.

The day was done. It was half five. The shadows lengthening, and they had to get to Gillingham to their hotel, and they were planning on going to Blean for some Heath fritillary action.

I sat and ate the Magnum Duncan had kindly bought, sent two messages to friends, then walked to the car, having done over 21,000 steps in the day, and drove home.

Back through Deal and Walmer, a brass band packing their instruments away at Walmer Bandstand, through the town, out into the countryside to home.

Back home at six, we were both hungry. So, I cook two lots of chicken, some baby new potatoes and do some salad. So in half an hour we sit down to quite the feast, but neither of us had eaten since breakfast.

A quiet evening. A shower and shave, then to bed at half nine, and slept like a log.

That snored.