Mark Cox of Weston’s Baytree Garden Centre shares tips on how to get rid of slugs and snails

Friday of last week I was asked by Quentin to join him at his estate on Sunday evening for his annual autumnal hunt.

He assured me that no animals would be harmed and that it would all be jolly good fun. Obviously he must have felt that I was now worthy of joining the higher echelons of society.

Soon I’d be rubbing shoulders with Prime Ministers, presidents and celebrities at exclusive galas and events. The present Mrs Cox would woo them and assuredly become the patron of some leading charity.

I hired a red jacket, boots and jodhpurs from Tall Short and Slightly Ugly - my favourite gentleman’s outfitters which I picked up on Saturday afternoon. Mrs Cox said that I was a vision in scarlet and ever so dashing. Having never ridden a horse I decided it best to practice for a few hours on daughter number one’s old rocking horse. I have to admit that for a novice it was no small thing in just a few short hours to get Mabel the unicorn under full control.

On Sunday evening, after a final practice on the aforementioned riding aid, I drove over to Quentin’s estate in a manner befitting a man of my newly found station. To my dismay and upon reflection I should have realised that hunts do not happen in the evening. This fact hit me squarely in the face when I stepped out of my car to find the assembled invitees dressed in wellies, thick coats and head torches.

The hunting party went very quiet before Quentin emerged from the throng and made his way over to me. “Welcome Mark to my annual snail hunt, I’m so glad to see you made it” he said whilst looking me up and down. With that I was served a glass of port and we all headed over into Quentin’s vegetable garden which was about the size of Holbeach.

Slugs and snails to be fair are the biggest enemy to gardening organically. If left un-checked they can do real harm. Gastropods are most active feeding at night and with the damp autumnal air they are out in greater numbers. Many gardeners opt to use chemicals and pellets but this can have adverse consequences on the environment such as Hedgehogs dying from eating the poisoned slugs and snails.

Because Quentin grows organically, a more hands-on approach is required. This was the reason we were all there, to hand pick the slugs and snails from his vegetable beds.

Some wore gloves, other used tongs, since I had neither I had to go au naturel and just use my bare hands. The first dozen or so I picked felt really icky, but after a while I had no problem placing them in the buckets we were all given. At varying points during the evening Bartholomew, Quentin’s butler, provided very welcome glasses of restorative port.

After three hours of picking and now worse for wear due to my consumption of the 50 year old port the time had arrived for the grand weigh in. With 3kg of slimy beasts in my bucket I won by a country mile from my nearest competitor Berty with only 800g.

At the party which followed, Quentin announced that I’d also won the competition for best dressed picker. Accepting my award to join the Snail Hunt at 10 Downing Street which is somewhere in London I believe, I made it clear that I knew all along that it wasn’t a real hunt and I’d spent £100 hiring this outfit just for fun.

The following morning Bartholomew would release the buckets full of slugs and snails several miles away from Quentin’s estate and definitely not on Lord Wilson’s land, Quentin’s organic vegetable-growing arch nemesis.