Devon Gardens...
Lady Anne's Garden
Now I'm staying in Devon for a week, on my own in a Bed'n'Breakfast. Devon is world famous for its gardens, but all I really want to do is fly home and work in my own. Hopeless!
Saturday 12th July
I've been to visit Rosemoor. It was OK - it was quite big, but I seemed to zoom around in no time. Oops. The part called 'Lady Anne's Garden' was nice, with lots of Phormiums, some Cordylines, and Eucalyptus trees (aargh!) in the mixed shrubby borders. Here, celebrated with a plaque, was 'One of the Biggest Specimen Gums in Britain'. It looked smaller than the BIG GUM on my house lawn back home. I'm afraid the mature Cordylines made me really homesick. All I wanted to do is to go home and be in my own garden. Foolish!
Herbaceous Borders
But back to Rosemoor. By the visitor centre there were herbaceous borders and rose beds - and mulch! I saw Lilian Austin next to Abraham Darby next to Mutabilis and these three roses looked groovy together. I could do this in my own garden...
Walled Garden at Rosemoor
Later...
I am the worst navigator. I've just wiggled on for a country drive supposedly to reach Dartmoor, but ending up at Crediton. Then attempting to return to the B'n'B I went round in a circle and found myself back at Crediton. Ha! Crediton sold me crummy strawberries, so I do not wish to return.
Directions!
Sunday 13th July
My host has given me a detailed, hand-drawn roundabouts map - in case I end up in Crediton again - and I've followed it to Marwood Hill. This garden is one I've heard of - perhaps the local gardening magazine back home featured it in an article. It was very 'pondy'.
But - I saw weed-killer circles around the lawn shrubs and trees. Not a good look... And so, perhaps in protest, I don't take any photographs! Very odd...
Later...
Now I've put myself on a local Red Cross Open Gardens tour. So far I've seen a couple of walled kitchen gardens, a couple of croquet lawns, and some cannons. And an old glasshouse, terraced inside, with two of the oldest brick chimneys. Weird!
These wee private gardens are a bit silly, really. There are lots of ladies wearing hats and people in uniform. Anyone who bothers to talk to me thinks I'm Australian...
Later, in Wales...
I've driven like a woman-driver possessed up into Wales. Now I'm starting to seriously miss my family and the animals back home. I've decided from now on to send Daughter of Moosey on any overseas adventures, and retire into being an armchair traveller.
Head Gardener in Wales
Train Trips...
I've made a few train trips, but - oh dear. 'The magic is lost and I'd rather be at home' is the forlorn comment I've written in my travelling notebook, in the tiniest letters. While train-travelling I've been reading a huge book called 'The Culture of the English People', which apparently explains (among other things) the importance of chests and fireplaces, though I probably won't ever remember these details. A fairly heavy holiday read, I'm thinking...
English Slugs! Aargh!
I've experienced some real English gardening at my last stop, a cottage in Bromyard. I wasn't wearing gardening gloves (the feel of the soil between my fingers, so natural) and suddenly met some huge black English slugs. Aargh! So big, and slightly daunting in their sliminess...
There's just one more garden I'm going to visit when I drive back to Heathrow, London, tomorrow. It's called Hestercombe, in Somerset, and things I've read about it have taken my fancy. Hope I like it.