I was going for a thick masking tape primary layer, gauze secondary layer (just in case they nibbled through the tape during the journey) and a tea towel third layer. I thought it an unbeatable entrance and would tide me over until next year when I would get something far more professional.
It was 5.30 a.m. and I was there early with the plan that I could get them into the car quickly, drive to the location, set them up and be back in time for breakfast. As I approached the hive and got it all secured it looked like it was a good possibility. My plan was coming together and my three-layered entrance block looked great and was very secure.
I set off feeling confident and it wasn't long before I was driving in thick woodland close to the tiny turn-off I needed to take. I was heading down a main road towards the Devil's Punch Bowl with my eyes peeled looking for a sign advertising a youth hostel. The only problem I had this morning was that the head warden wasn't home and so if I got lost I was on my own.
Ahead of me I saw it and immediately slowed down. There was a tiny unmade road off to the right-hand side. It was just wide enough for a car, with banks up both sides which prevented me from seeing over them. As I went further down the track and the banks gave way to views of woodland in all directions, it immediately felt remote. I realised it must have been quite damp because I kept seeing mushrooms and the woodland floor was covered with a thick, almost fluorescent green moss. The mushrooms were not just any mushrooms mind you; they were those beautiful ones that look like toadstools and will kill you in an instant should you take a bite.
The head warden had mentioned that it was a little bumpy down the track. You could say that again. As I continued down, his words were ringing in my ears. I had thought I would be fine as I knew our farm track was pretty bad, and I had therefore taken his words with a pinch of salt. I was very glad I'd come in the four-by-four, as at points it felt like I was about to tip over. My main concern was the bees but they seemed fine.
The tiny road kept winding round and round but was dropping in height quite considerably as I went down into the most beautiful valley. It was like a hidden world. I went past a very basic-looking youth hostel where, according to my father, he stayed many years previous, and carried on. The road narrowed further and it all became rather atmospheric with the trees feeling like they were smothering you; everything was almost too green.
I turned a corner and dipped down once again, and up on my right I could make out the most beautiful old house covered in moss, the gardens overgrown in a nice and natural way, and the whole thing looked like something from a fairy tale. This must have been the head warden's house. I stopped the car and looked up at it for a while. It was one of the most unusual houses I have ever seen and given my history as an estate agent, there have been many.
My instructions told me to drive past the house and then park in a little turning bay up ahead, which I found pretty easily and stopped the car. Behind me, over the boundaries of the fence to his garden, were the remnants of some beautiful WBC hives. Obviously they had fallen into disrepair but they looked lovely there, and so fitting of the setting. It answered one question for me: at least my bees wouldn't be fighting with others.
As I stepped out of the car, it was immediately apparent how peaceful it was. Nothing moved around here. It was all still. I did a 360-degree turn taking it all in and that is when I saw the heather heaven that I was looking for. At the end of the road, there was a cattle grid and the valley opened out. In front of me were the rolling hills of the Punch Bowl and all I could see was heather, all in flower, which made these rolling hills look like soft pink blankets. I couldn't help but smile. I only hoped I wasn't too late.
I walked over to the cattle grid and into the valley for a few minutes, taking a closer look at the heather. I had never considered it much before now, but heather on this scale is really quite stunning and I couldn't wait to get the beehive out of the car to let them at it. It struck me again as I excitedly walked back to the car just how quiet it was out here. It was as if the air was still and time had stopped. The heather just stretched for miles.
I found my way through the heather and into a more wooded area, locating the point that the head warden had told me about. What I hadn't really considered in my plan was finding an appropriately flat piece of land. It all seemed so uneven and rough, not exactly perfect for a beehive which you should try to keep level at all times. I hadn't thought to bring a spade to level an area off, or even a paving slab to give some semblance of a sturdy base.
After some searching I found a small area which seemed the best of a bad lot. It was out of the way, so that no walkers to the area would come into direct contact with it, and the hive stand would go either side of an old tyre track, now covered with grass. It was pretty much level, and so I went about my duties.