By Aida Edemariam
The group has been foraging for about an hour when Brigitte Tee-Hillman strikes gold. She bends down and pushes away an overhanging fern, gently lifts away some leaf mould and with a brisk, practised pinch, claims her prize, leaving the roots behind.
The unusually large brown chanterelles have pale frilled edges and undersides like pleated skirts in mid-pirouette. She fits them together into a bouquet in her hands and holds them up. "Look!" Her face suffuses with light that has nothing to do with the sunshine dappling fitfully through the tall trees. "They are like flowers. Aren't they lovely? Now you see why I get excited."