Confessions of an arachnophile

I am a self-confessed arachnophile.

I don’t know if the word actually exists, but I am using the logic that if putting “-phile” instead of “-phobe” means the opposite, then it is correct.

I am fascinated by spiders. I think they are some of the most beautiful creatures on the planet.

Rather than fear them, I welcome them into my home, and allow them to run around freely. I would never dream of harming one.

I think my love of all things eight-legged (four and six-legged come to that) comes from my childhood.

My mother, like me, is an animal lover, so rather than being conditioned to recoil in horror and kill anything that wandered into the house, I have always looked on the visit of a silver fish, moth, or spider as a privilege.

A tiny creature going about its business while giving me the treat of sharing a moment of nature’s wonder as it creeps through the house.

Spiders are my favourite, and I always feel a surge of irritation when I hear people flapping and whining and begging for someone to “kill it, kill it” when one pays a visit.

Frankly I’d rather throw a slipper at you than the industrious little fellow marching across the carpet looking for his lunch.

I was not aware we had dangerous spiders in the UK until today.

I knew there is a type of funnel web that has snuck through UK immigration and set up home close to our ports, but it is not as fearful or lethal as the mighty Austrailian Sydney Funnel Web.

But apparently we have 10 species of poisonous spider in Britain, a fact Chris Galton discovered to his misfortune this week.

The father-of-one collapsed suddenly before it emerged he had been bitten ten times by a false widow (right) - a distant and relatively harmless relative of the deadly black widow.

The bites were enough to warrant medical treatment and the 31-year-old was rushed to hospital where doctors discovered a series of 50 pence-sized red welts on his neck and back.

He suffered no further reaction and was given painkillers before being released.

The spider, whose body is just  bigger than a five pence coin, is thought to have dropped into Mr Galton’s hooded top from shrubs close to his home.

Paramedics gave him oxygen and he was taken to Southampton General Hospital where doctors identified the spider as a false widow. 

I think this forms part of my fascination with spiders, their ability to literally deliver a kiss of death.

I have always had a huge respect for them, because I am acutely aware some are quite capable of killing me, in minutes.

On a recent trip to Australia I looked forward to having the chance to see some of their many ferocious species.

The beautiful redback (above), for example, with its jet black body and hour-glass crimson splatter down its back warning predators - don’t mess with me.

Its bite results in excruciating pain, palpitations, feelings of euphoria as its venom attacks the nervous system and even death, although fatal bites are very rare thanks to anti-venom.

The Sydney Funnel Web (left) - this one will rear up on sight and display its flick-knife fangs before lunging to deliver a bite, which can pierce leather.

It too can be fatal but rarely, again, thanks to anti-venom.

Despite hunting around in bushes and looking under rubbish bin lids, where I was assured these guys hang out, I didn’t see one.

I was disappointed I didn’t get to see a real live redback or brown recluse, but maybe that is because they probably prefer to mind their own business.

But I did get to almost shake hands with one of Oz’s infamous arachno-monsters.

This chap gave me a cheeky grin as I closed the door to a toilet cubical near Sydney, with just me and him inside.

Apparently he is a huntsman, and although massive, relatively harmless.

That didn’t stop me leaving the building at top speed.