The Times reported last month that wild bees are in decline, with many British species under threat. Beekeeping, however, is on the up, particularly in urban areas: the number of apiarists has risen by 25 per cent in the past three years to 10,671, the British Beekeepers Association says. The average age is falling, too.
“Many people are getting into it to boost their green credentials and to get closer to nature,” says John Chapple, the chairman of the London Beekeepers’ Association. But there are other benefits: beekeeping is physical — you have to be strong to harvest a 20lb (9kg) box of honey. And some beekeepers say that bees can help to overcome depression. “Apitherapy” (being deliberately stung by bees) is claimed to help with ailments such as stiff necks.
We talk to five British beekeepers about how their bees have changed their lives.
CRAIG ROBERTS, 37, biology lecturer at Liverpool University, and STEPHANIE COLVAN, 30, academic registrar at Edgehill University, Liverpool
“We were in a farm shop last Christmas. I was thinking about getting some chickens when Steph said you can’t keep chickens but you can have bees. So it was a compromise. I took an introduction course and cajoled Steph into coming along. We would have kept the hive on our inner-city allotment, but we were worried that vandals would burn it down. So we wrote to farmers near the city and eventually found a strawberry farm to host a hive.
“We bought our first nucleus (a starter kit of a queen and a few frames of bees) at an auction and put it in the back of the car. That first journey was nerve-racking; we were dressed in our beekeeping suits driving through the Mersey Tunnel with thousands of bees in the back. We got a lot of stares but only a few escapees.
“We visit the hive once a week to check that the bees aren’t swarming and manage our thousands of “employees”. It’s very exciting seeing the honey glistening in the sun; we dip in our fingers but it’s too daunting to harvest it yet. Hopefully, it will have a hint of strawberry when we do, as the bees collect pollen from the local strawberry plants.
“It’s amazing how heavy the box full of frames is. They say that beekeepers are supposed to have bad backs because of all the lifting but it can be a good workout.
“I think I’ll be doing it for the rest of my life. It certainly changes your attitude to bees — Steph no longer asks me to kill one if it’s buzzing around a beer bottle. Now when we see a bee, we see a friend. She’s not been stung yet.
“Because lots of honey is imported, there’s a massive demand for home-grown honey, so we won’t have to think of Christmas presents ever again.”
CHARLIE MILLER, 41, artist, Kennington, South London
“It seemed a joke doing a beekeeping course when you live in London, but I was completely smitten by it. Some people take time to pluck up the courage and find a site, but I couldn’t wait. That was four years ago and I now keep 12 hives in three different sites: on a church hall roof in Kennington; at the Roots and Shoots project in Vauxhall; and in Lambeth Palace Gardens (the archbishop is a fan, I even made him some honey-wax candles).
“Keeping bees has opened up a whole new nature-scope to me that I never knew existed in cities. The bees help me to feel the seasons. It blends basic practical skills, such as building the hive, with being able to step back and observe in awe as the bees just get on with it.
“Any experienced beekeeper will tell you that they’re learning all the time. Contrary to what many people believe, having bees often nurtures a good relationship with neighbours, but no amount of honey will sweeten a neighbour with a bee phobia.
“Honey is a superfood; we eat it with everything at home. Visiting the hives has been a good bonding experience with my 11-year-old son. In a good year I’ll collect about 80lb (80 jars) of honey per hive; you’d need about 100 hives to make a modest living.
“It no longer seems weird to be making honey in London. Some of the best honey in the country comes from the capital where the season is longer, warmer and there are more types of plants and flowers for pollination. City bees also avoid the deadly effects of pesticides widely used in agriculture. And French research shows bees can filter out exhaust fumes.”
PIERS MOORE EDE, 30, writer, Boston Manor, West London
“I discovered the wonderful world of beekeeping when I moved to an organic farm in Tuscany to recuperate from a serious bike accident I’d had in California in 1999. The first time I put my hand into a hive was the first time I saw a way out from my depression. I subsequently learnt all that I could about beekeeping and set off in search of the world’s great honeys to write a book on the subject.
“When I returned to London in 2003 I bought two hives from a friend and set them up with a swarm of 30,000 at an allotment in Boston Manor, West London, between a Tube line and the M4. I now have 60,000 bees and they feed on blackberry bush blossom in May and produce up to 20 jars of honey a year.
“Beekeeping is almost a spiritual practice. Tending the bees is very peaceful. It gives me an immediate contact with nature that’s missing from urban life. I was staying with a friend in Spain recently who has 800 hives. I’ve always had a problem with a stiff neck so my friend offered me apitherapy. He picked eight bees and stung me on the neck. It hurt, but an hour later I felt better. It was like an anti-inflammatory shot from a doctor. Maybe this is why beekeepers are said to live to a ripe old age.”
Honey and Dust, by Piers Moore Ede (Bloomsbury Books, £8.99), is published on August 21
ANNA SMALES, 35, property lawyer, and her son EDWARD, 7, Altofts, near Wakefield, Yorkshire
“Ever since I’d seen hives in Cornwall as a little girl, I’d wanted to keep bees. A few years ago I saw a honey display at the Yorkshire County Show and found out about a local introduction course to beekeeping. Included in the bargain £30 was a nucleus, which is a queen and five frames of bees, and we bought a hive for £50.
“We now keep two colonies at a local allotment and visit for a few hours once a week. Edward gets suited up and plays a supportive role with a smoke-producing machine that calms the bees. It’s advised that children under 12 should not get involved with beekeeping, but Edward’s not flappable around the bees. He did once find a bee in his hood, which sent out distress signals to other bees who then stung him eight times. But it hasn’t put him off.
“I work five days a week so my time with Edward is precious. The beekeeping makes a healthy change from playing Darth Vader with him on the lawn. It is good for communication between us and gives him a sense of responsibility that makes him feel a bit older. It beats sitting in front of the TV.
“I’m largely indoors in my work, so I love a pursuit that takes me outdoors. You have to shift only a few of the 30lb (14kg) boxes before you start to look like Arnie. And it gives me and my husband something to talk about.”
CERI CRYER, 27, cheesemaker, Brinkworth, North Wiltshire
“Three years ago, when my husband moved on to my farm, we were shopping for a dog bed and came home with bees and two hives instead. My mother said that we could keep bees on the farm only as long as she wasn’t stung. So far, she hasn’t been. We now have more than 50 hives, which we’ve acquired from auctions and forgotten sheds, and we harvest 2.5 tonnes of honey (about 4,000 jars) that we sell at farmers’ markets and farm shops.
“We’re registered with the local police, so whenever there’s a problem swarm that’s looking for a new home we go along like the fourth emergency service to rescue it. Swarm-catching is exciting. You wait for the swarm to settle on the branch of a tree, then, with a cardboard box below the branch, you give it a sharp whack with a stick and the swarm falls off into the box. Close the box quickly and as long as the queen is in there you can carry it off.
“We keep the hives in fields of oil-seed rape and beans, but in the future we’d like to move them on to heather moors to see what happens to the honey. Our Brinkworth honey was voted the tastiest at the county show this year. It has a delicate floral taste. I also make a honey cream cheese.
“It’s an all-consuming hobby. I love the ceremony of putting on all the beekeeper’s kit. It’s a good stress-reliever because you really have to be focused and gentle with the bees. It’s fascinating: a bee can return to the hive and communicate to the other bees exactly which flower to forage two miles away.
“Our honey also helps some customers with hay fever. A teaspoon a day of local honey from February helps the body to get used to the pollen in small doses and reduces the likelihood of such an exaggerated reaction in the summer. The lady down the lane ate our honey for a year and has no hay fever problems.”
It's the bee's knees
For more information visit the British Beekeepers’ Association website: www.bbka.org.uk 
