LIFESTYLE

Anna Britten discovers the buzz of a hobby that could save the planet.

As an impressionable pre-teen, I once read a book called ‘A Taste of Blackberries’ about a boy whose best friend died of a bee sting. It was scarier than the Cold War, and I have associated the flying nectar junkies with tragedy ever since. Turns out this is not exactly unreasonable but, of course, I’ve got it the wrong way around – it’s bees that are facing their last breaths, not us.

Nobody’s more aware of this than Bristol Beekeepers – a regional wing of the British Beekeepers Association (there are about five such groups in what used to be Avon). From May to September, every other weekend, they run hands-on skills sessions for fledgling and experienced beekeeper-members (as well as those thinking about getting their first hive) in an idyllic orchard-based apiary near Cribbs Causeway.

Such urban beekeeping has taken off considerably in the last five years and I’m here today with new member Carolyn Cross, who has kept bees on her allotment since May. “People have very different reasons for doing it,” she explains. “For me it was a challenge.”

We’re greeted by chairman (“and odd job man”) Garth Chatham, who is leading today’s session about transferring queens from one hive to another. As Carolyn and I pull on our protective suits and veils, his wife Wendy comments that “there’s nothing worse than feeling a bee crawling around in your bra.” I pull my Velcro wristbands extra tight and shudder.

There’s just time, before the members arrive, for Garth to show me the basics of a hive – from the bottom board which keeps out the lethal verroa mite up through the deep super (where the queen lays her eggs and gets waited on – Garth: “typical woman”), the queen excluder (a mesh layer too narrow for her to squeeze through) and the shallow super (where the honey is stored) to the outer cover.

Wendy puffs a smoker into the hive to subdue the insects, and it’s immediately evident the bees have little interest in us. Garth hands me a drone – embarrassingly, it has to be explained to me at least twice that they can’t sting – which walks over my latexed hand and is so relaxed (or scared?) it promptly empties its bowels. I then hold a frame covered in honeycomb, bees, honey and nectar – it weighs a ton. “Hence the condition known as beekeepers’ back,” says Garth. I even see a new bee being born, its black head pushing out of a cell.

The more is explained to me, the greater the unspeakable confusion bubbling in my head. I quickly realise the extent of my ignorance and confide in Carolyn. “You never stop feeling your questions are stupid,” she reassures me. Furthermore “if you ask two beekeepers how to do something, they’ll give you four answers.”

As Garth explains what I’m looking at, I learn that bees have hierarchies and hereditary issues to rival a Tudor court. Virgin queens, failing queens, old queens, attendants… it’s brutal. When a young virgin queen emerges from a queen cell, she will seek out virgin queen rivals and attempt murder. She’ll then fly off, as soon as the weather’s warm enough, and attempt to have sex with as many drones as possible, storing their sperm and then using it to fertilise eggs all through her life. When a new queen is available, the workers will kill the old or diseased reigning queen by “balling” her, i.e. clustering tightly around her until she dies from overheating. Now, is that not an ITV mini-series begging to be made?

When the members assemble for today’s session – a mix of ages and sexes – they strike up conversations about how things are going. “I think I might be queenless,” grimaces one, sadly. “Mine don’t like being smoked,” says another. I talk to Bristol librarian Jane, a beekeeper for the last year. “My grandson is 18 months and I want him to be aware bees are important. Without them we’d be up the creek. At work I email people pictures of bees and think, well, if it teaches them something… “ Does she make honey? “I’m not in it for the honey. Aggressive bees make more honey but mine are nice bees. I talk to them: ‘this is your mother’. I make a few beeswax candles. I was once stung 11 or 12 times on the thigh when my smoker went out. It’s lovely. It makes you feel high.”

Tutor Dave Maslen is protected only a hat and veil safety pinned to his shirt – no gloves. He locates the queen, places a blob of Tippex on her thorax and puts her in a cage. This is kept warm between someone’s hands until she is installed into her new hive. Things are getting pretty technical now, so I slip away, leaving the guardians of the ecosystem to their studies. Without these people, honeybees could die out for good in just a few years. I’m not ready for my own bees just yet, but I vow to plant a few flowers soon for the benefit someone else’s.

BRISTOL BEEKEEPERS RUNS A FULL PROGRAMME OF SOCIAL AND EDUCATIONAL EVENTS FOR BEEKEPERS AND NON-BEEKEEPERS ALIKE, AS WELL AS THE ANNUAL BRISTOL HONEY SHOW & FESTIVAL (SEE PANEL). FFI: WWW.BRISTOLBEEKEEPERS.ORG.UK

Bristol Honey Show & Festival

Room in your life for some buzzy new mates? Then get yourself along to the annual Honey Show at the University of Bristol Botanic Garden on Sat 3-Sun 4 Sept. Entrants to the competition will be aiming to win the prestigious and beautiful Bristol Silver Queen Trophy. This was first awarded in 1929 to Miss A B Flowers, a beekeeper from Salisbury, and beekeepers from as far as Scotland and Cornwall have won the trophy in the past. Prizes will be given in various categories including best light, medium, dark, naturally crystallized, soft set and cut comb honey plus beeswax candles, mead , bee-related artwork and photography, and honey fruitcake.

There will also be live bees in a demonstration hive, showing visitors how a hive works and real bees at work. Anyone thinking of starting out in one of the fastest growing hobbies in the South West will have access to all the information they need, with honey and other products on sale for those with a sweet tooth.

The event runs from 10am-5pm each day. Sunday 4 Sept is also Open Day at the Botanic Gardens – part of the National Gardens Scheme – featuring a garden laid out to tell the story of plant evolution, glasshouse with orchids, carnivorous plants and giant water-lilies.

FFI: WWW.BRISTOLBEEKEEPERS.ORG.UK/HONEYSHOW/BRISTOLHONEYSHOW.HTML

Bee facts

Honeybees have been around for about 25 million years.

There are no longer any wild honeybees in the UK.

Foreign honey can kill colonies – don’t leave unwashed jars outside.

Drones do little other than fly around scouting for queens. There’s been a ‘drone congregation area’ on Hampstead Heath since the 16th century. Yep, that’s young males waiting around for queens. To shag.  On Hampstead Heath.

Rain makes bees arsey.

You don’t need a garden to keep a hive – allotments (if your neighbours approve) and roof gardens are both suitable, or your local beekeeping association can advise on hosting.

Bee poo looks like that runny mustard you get on American hot dogs.

Queen bees can sting repeatedly without dying.

Copyright Anna Britten 2011