Garden Squares in London

Anne here. EarlsCourtSquare-main (1)
Ever since my first visit to London as an adult, I've been fascinated by those fabulous English garden squares, like the one Hugh Grant and Julia Roberts's characters broke into in the movie Notting Hill. 

That first visit was long before Notting Hill was released, and I remember being shocked at the time to learn that the elegant cast-iron railings that surrounded the large and beautiful garden over the road from my backpacker's hotel, were not just decorative, and that the garden was locked to keep out riff-raff like me. Or indeed anyone who didn't live in one of the very fine houses that surrounded it.

I'm writing a new series at the moment (first book coming out in September) and I've placed the houses of most of the main characters around a large and beautiful garden square. In mine, however access to the garden is only via the back gates of the houses built around it — the garden is entirely enclosed by houses, and it's barely visible from the street.

It's a bit like these ones, Ladbroke Square Garden in Notting Hill, and Arundel Gardens, though mine is a made-up place. And why a made-up place, you ask?

Ladbroke-Gardens-KF-Image-1024x683Because most of these large, private, hidden-behind-the-houses gardens were constructed after the period of my stories, which are set in the Regency (1811-20). So I'm bending history a bit, and I'm doing it because I want my characters to be able to interact in the garden, in private.

Ladbroke Square Gardens is one of the largest private garden squares in London, at three hectares, and is only accessible to local residents. Originally the site of a racecourse called the Hippodrome, created in 1837, it was turned into a garden in the 1840's after the racecourse failed. The layout of the gardens hasn't changed much since then — an 1849 architect's plan shows the garden plan pretty much the same as now. ArundelGardens1 copy

Arundel Gardens, was a speculative development in the 1860's — yes, there were land developers back then, too — and the houses on both sides backed onto elegant communal gardens which were originally known as "pleasure grounds", or "paddocks."

1920px-Arundel_gardens_1This is all you'll see of Arundel Gardens from the street. It hasn't changed much since it was built.

So it suited me to create my own garden square, and people it with my characters.

The eighteenth and nineteenth century was a real boom time for gardens. A combination of increased prosperity, a growth in scientific knowledge  and a general interest in botany, stimulated by colonial expansion and the "discovery" of many new species meant that gardens became both fashionable and exciting.

Garden designers like "Capability" Brown in the 18th century and Humprhy Repton in the 19th, became hugely popular, and their love of "natural" design led to hundreds of formal more geometric gardens being ripped out and "natural" landscapes replaced them — it was very controversial at the time. Many of their gardens are more or less the same today.

Botany became hugely fashionable. Genteel young ladies collected, pressed and mounted botanical specimens, and painted them in careful watercolors. Scientists as well as ladies and gentlemen of wealth, leisure and vision became interested in the collection, breeding and cross-breeding of plants, coming up with new variations.

Societies were formed. The Royal Horticultural Society in England was established in 1804, and continued to foster the academic interest in landscape and gardening.

Malmaison-3_thumbThe gardens of Empress Josephine Bonaparte's gardens at Malmaison in France has over 2,000 species of plants. From my own corner of the world, Joseph Banks, (1743-1820) the botanist who accompanied Captain Cook on several of his voyages, brought 3,500 different species of plants to the Kew RBG. A wealthy landowner, he was President of the Royal Horticultural Society for forty years. 

In The Book of Trades, Or Library of the Useful Arts..(1806) there is a chapter devoted to the career of a gardener. It distinguished between flower gardens, fruit gardens and kitchen gardens.

"There are several kinds of gardeners: some gain a living by looking after other people's gardens; for which they receive a certain sum per annum, according to the size of the garden. Others live in gentlemen's houses, and, like domestics in general, receive wages for their labour, from twenty to a hundred pounds per annum, according to their merit, or to what may be expected from them. Some gardeners go out to day work and their wages are from three to five shillings a day."

However, fascinating as all this is, sadly, that's not really what my books are about. But because there were so many botanical developments happening at the time, I need to check things all the time. 

My heroine is peeping between the dainty hanging flowers of a fuchsia—wait! Were fuchsias around then? Fuchsia coccinea Aiton

I jump onto the web. The first fuchsia species were introduced into English gardens and glasshouses at the end of the 18th century. Fuchsia coccinea Aiton arrived at Kew Gardens in 1788 to be formally described in 1789. It was apparently shortly followed by Fuchsia magellanica Lam.  (Wikipedia)

Yes!
But would a fuchsia be growing outside in a London garden in 1818?  A lot of the plants we see now in gardens have been bred and hybridized for the climate. 

A little more research throws up this:

Fuchsia coccinea Aiton was shortly followed by Fuchsia magellanica Lam which proved very hardy outdoors and its cultivars soon naturalized in favorable areas of the British Isles. Other species were quickly introduced to greenhouses. 

Phew. My heroine can keep peeping through the fuchsias. I'm not going to explain which variety, but I know it's Fuchsia magellanica Lam. *g* Fuchsia_Magellanica_Tas

The other reason I wanted to set this series around a garden is simply because I love gardens and I wanted my people to have access to a beautiful one.

Cicero said: “If you have a garden and a library, you have everything.

He's right, don't you think? And even if you don't have a garden )or a library) you can always visit one.

For years I've been compiling a list of overseas gardens I hope to visit one day, including Monet's garden in France, and Sissinghurst in the UK. A good friend once took me to the Chelsea Physic garden, which was marvelous. But there are many many more, and here  here's a list of English gardens worth visiting

Do you mind it when authors "bend" history as I'm doing with a garden square before its time?
Do you have a garden of your own, or a favorite flower or a garden you like to visit? Tell us about it.

135 thoughts on “Garden Squares in London”

  1. Lovely post, Anne! I lived in one of those London garden squares for 30 years and at first it was a bit of a shock to learn that one had to apply to the garden committee for a key. It made sense though as a lot of work goes into keeping it neat and tidy (and I think the residents usually pay for that although we were lucky enough to have one very rich gentleman who footed the bill). It was a great place to take the kids on summer afternoons and we had many impromptu picnics with other mums and toddlers. It was a calm oasis in a large city and sitting in there you could forget where you were. I love the sound of your new series and look forward to seeing what your characters get up to in their communal garden!

    Reply
  2. Lovely post, Anne! I lived in one of those London garden squares for 30 years and at first it was a bit of a shock to learn that one had to apply to the garden committee for a key. It made sense though as a lot of work goes into keeping it neat and tidy (and I think the residents usually pay for that although we were lucky enough to have one very rich gentleman who footed the bill). It was a great place to take the kids on summer afternoons and we had many impromptu picnics with other mums and toddlers. It was a calm oasis in a large city and sitting in there you could forget where you were. I love the sound of your new series and look forward to seeing what your characters get up to in their communal garden!

    Reply
  3. Lovely post, Anne! I lived in one of those London garden squares for 30 years and at first it was a bit of a shock to learn that one had to apply to the garden committee for a key. It made sense though as a lot of work goes into keeping it neat and tidy (and I think the residents usually pay for that although we were lucky enough to have one very rich gentleman who footed the bill). It was a great place to take the kids on summer afternoons and we had many impromptu picnics with other mums and toddlers. It was a calm oasis in a large city and sitting in there you could forget where you were. I love the sound of your new series and look forward to seeing what your characters get up to in their communal garden!

    Reply
  4. Lovely post, Anne! I lived in one of those London garden squares for 30 years and at first it was a bit of a shock to learn that one had to apply to the garden committee for a key. It made sense though as a lot of work goes into keeping it neat and tidy (and I think the residents usually pay for that although we were lucky enough to have one very rich gentleman who footed the bill). It was a great place to take the kids on summer afternoons and we had many impromptu picnics with other mums and toddlers. It was a calm oasis in a large city and sitting in there you could forget where you were. I love the sound of your new series and look forward to seeing what your characters get up to in their communal garden!

    Reply
  5. Lovely post, Anne! I lived in one of those London garden squares for 30 years and at first it was a bit of a shock to learn that one had to apply to the garden committee for a key. It made sense though as a lot of work goes into keeping it neat and tidy (and I think the residents usually pay for that although we were lucky enough to have one very rich gentleman who footed the bill). It was a great place to take the kids on summer afternoons and we had many impromptu picnics with other mums and toddlers. It was a calm oasis in a large city and sitting in there you could forget where you were. I love the sound of your new series and look forward to seeing what your characters get up to in their communal garden!

    Reply
  6. Wonderful, Anne! I’ve known about London garden squares and once even visited one because a friend had a basement apartment with access to her garden square. A piece of sanity in the great city! And what a great idea to make one central to your new series! I look forward to reading it.

    Reply
  7. Wonderful, Anne! I’ve known about London garden squares and once even visited one because a friend had a basement apartment with access to her garden square. A piece of sanity in the great city! And what a great idea to make one central to your new series! I look forward to reading it.

    Reply
  8. Wonderful, Anne! I’ve known about London garden squares and once even visited one because a friend had a basement apartment with access to her garden square. A piece of sanity in the great city! And what a great idea to make one central to your new series! I look forward to reading it.

    Reply
  9. Wonderful, Anne! I’ve known about London garden squares and once even visited one because a friend had a basement apartment with access to her garden square. A piece of sanity in the great city! And what a great idea to make one central to your new series! I look forward to reading it.

    Reply
  10. Wonderful, Anne! I’ve known about London garden squares and once even visited one because a friend had a basement apartment with access to her garden square. A piece of sanity in the great city! And what a great idea to make one central to your new series! I look forward to reading it.

    Reply
  11. What an interesting post, Anne! Thank you and best wishes with your garden series.
    I’m decidedly not a gardener, but I’m happy to visit those of others, real or fictional. I don’t mind authors bending the truth, but I certainly appreciate a note from the author stating that she has done so.

    Reply
  12. What an interesting post, Anne! Thank you and best wishes with your garden series.
    I’m decidedly not a gardener, but I’m happy to visit those of others, real or fictional. I don’t mind authors bending the truth, but I certainly appreciate a note from the author stating that she has done so.

    Reply
  13. What an interesting post, Anne! Thank you and best wishes with your garden series.
    I’m decidedly not a gardener, but I’m happy to visit those of others, real or fictional. I don’t mind authors bending the truth, but I certainly appreciate a note from the author stating that she has done so.

    Reply
  14. What an interesting post, Anne! Thank you and best wishes with your garden series.
    I’m decidedly not a gardener, but I’m happy to visit those of others, real or fictional. I don’t mind authors bending the truth, but I certainly appreciate a note from the author stating that she has done so.

    Reply
  15. What an interesting post, Anne! Thank you and best wishes with your garden series.
    I’m decidedly not a gardener, but I’m happy to visit those of others, real or fictional. I don’t mind authors bending the truth, but I certainly appreciate a note from the author stating that she has done so.

    Reply
  16. One of the things advanced age has removed from me is the joy of gardening. Even my houseplants have suffered during the last 18 momths, but I hope to start anew with them.
    But when I was growing up, I was fortunate to live in a city with a marvelous hothouse and a public botanical garden. I have mentioned Missouri Botanical Gardens (better known as Shaw’s Gardens) before, but it’s always worth while to bring them up again. While we were living in the east they made some changes, so some of my favorite places aren’t as much fun for me, but Shaw’s gardenn is always worth a visit.
    Sometime after 1913, the city of St. Louis set up a display hot house to showcase flowers that could survive the smoke and dust of St. Louis. It was just a common brick hot house with no external evidence of the miracles inside. But the floral displays in that hothouse were so stunning that they were compared to jewels, and that common hothouse began to be called the Jewel Box.
    In 1936, the city decided to build a more spectacular display. The internet has a lot of information about this “new” Jewel box, but I found only one mention of the original one, which I fondly remember. I don’t think much of the “new” Jewel Box, as compared to the older one. Set in Forest Park this newer structure is still a treat to visit. And judging from the paucity of information about the first one, I may be one of the very few people living who have memories of the original displays. The Jewel Box is not an outdoors garden such as those Anne has been describing. But hothouses are also part of our stories. I doubt if there were as many display hot houses as there were working ones. We do have such a hothouse in St. Louis.

    Reply
  17. One of the things advanced age has removed from me is the joy of gardening. Even my houseplants have suffered during the last 18 momths, but I hope to start anew with them.
    But when I was growing up, I was fortunate to live in a city with a marvelous hothouse and a public botanical garden. I have mentioned Missouri Botanical Gardens (better known as Shaw’s Gardens) before, but it’s always worth while to bring them up again. While we were living in the east they made some changes, so some of my favorite places aren’t as much fun for me, but Shaw’s gardenn is always worth a visit.
    Sometime after 1913, the city of St. Louis set up a display hot house to showcase flowers that could survive the smoke and dust of St. Louis. It was just a common brick hot house with no external evidence of the miracles inside. But the floral displays in that hothouse were so stunning that they were compared to jewels, and that common hothouse began to be called the Jewel Box.
    In 1936, the city decided to build a more spectacular display. The internet has a lot of information about this “new” Jewel box, but I found only one mention of the original one, which I fondly remember. I don’t think much of the “new” Jewel Box, as compared to the older one. Set in Forest Park this newer structure is still a treat to visit. And judging from the paucity of information about the first one, I may be one of the very few people living who have memories of the original displays. The Jewel Box is not an outdoors garden such as those Anne has been describing. But hothouses are also part of our stories. I doubt if there were as many display hot houses as there were working ones. We do have such a hothouse in St. Louis.

    Reply
  18. One of the things advanced age has removed from me is the joy of gardening. Even my houseplants have suffered during the last 18 momths, but I hope to start anew with them.
    But when I was growing up, I was fortunate to live in a city with a marvelous hothouse and a public botanical garden. I have mentioned Missouri Botanical Gardens (better known as Shaw’s Gardens) before, but it’s always worth while to bring them up again. While we were living in the east they made some changes, so some of my favorite places aren’t as much fun for me, but Shaw’s gardenn is always worth a visit.
    Sometime after 1913, the city of St. Louis set up a display hot house to showcase flowers that could survive the smoke and dust of St. Louis. It was just a common brick hot house with no external evidence of the miracles inside. But the floral displays in that hothouse were so stunning that they were compared to jewels, and that common hothouse began to be called the Jewel Box.
    In 1936, the city decided to build a more spectacular display. The internet has a lot of information about this “new” Jewel box, but I found only one mention of the original one, which I fondly remember. I don’t think much of the “new” Jewel Box, as compared to the older one. Set in Forest Park this newer structure is still a treat to visit. And judging from the paucity of information about the first one, I may be one of the very few people living who have memories of the original displays. The Jewel Box is not an outdoors garden such as those Anne has been describing. But hothouses are also part of our stories. I doubt if there were as many display hot houses as there were working ones. We do have such a hothouse in St. Louis.

    Reply
  19. One of the things advanced age has removed from me is the joy of gardening. Even my houseplants have suffered during the last 18 momths, but I hope to start anew with them.
    But when I was growing up, I was fortunate to live in a city with a marvelous hothouse and a public botanical garden. I have mentioned Missouri Botanical Gardens (better known as Shaw’s Gardens) before, but it’s always worth while to bring them up again. While we were living in the east they made some changes, so some of my favorite places aren’t as much fun for me, but Shaw’s gardenn is always worth a visit.
    Sometime after 1913, the city of St. Louis set up a display hot house to showcase flowers that could survive the smoke and dust of St. Louis. It was just a common brick hot house with no external evidence of the miracles inside. But the floral displays in that hothouse were so stunning that they were compared to jewels, and that common hothouse began to be called the Jewel Box.
    In 1936, the city decided to build a more spectacular display. The internet has a lot of information about this “new” Jewel box, but I found only one mention of the original one, which I fondly remember. I don’t think much of the “new” Jewel Box, as compared to the older one. Set in Forest Park this newer structure is still a treat to visit. And judging from the paucity of information about the first one, I may be one of the very few people living who have memories of the original displays. The Jewel Box is not an outdoors garden such as those Anne has been describing. But hothouses are also part of our stories. I doubt if there were as many display hot houses as there were working ones. We do have such a hothouse in St. Louis.

    Reply
  20. One of the things advanced age has removed from me is the joy of gardening. Even my houseplants have suffered during the last 18 momths, but I hope to start anew with them.
    But when I was growing up, I was fortunate to live in a city with a marvelous hothouse and a public botanical garden. I have mentioned Missouri Botanical Gardens (better known as Shaw’s Gardens) before, but it’s always worth while to bring them up again. While we were living in the east they made some changes, so some of my favorite places aren’t as much fun for me, but Shaw’s gardenn is always worth a visit.
    Sometime after 1913, the city of St. Louis set up a display hot house to showcase flowers that could survive the smoke and dust of St. Louis. It was just a common brick hot house with no external evidence of the miracles inside. But the floral displays in that hothouse were so stunning that they were compared to jewels, and that common hothouse began to be called the Jewel Box.
    In 1936, the city decided to build a more spectacular display. The internet has a lot of information about this “new” Jewel box, but I found only one mention of the original one, which I fondly remember. I don’t think much of the “new” Jewel Box, as compared to the older one. Set in Forest Park this newer structure is still a treat to visit. And judging from the paucity of information about the first one, I may be one of the very few people living who have memories of the original displays. The Jewel Box is not an outdoors garden such as those Anne has been describing. But hothouses are also part of our stories. I doubt if there were as many display hot houses as there were working ones. We do have such a hothouse in St. Louis.

    Reply
  21. During my six student years in London I lived in fairly cheap flats which didn’t have access to garden squares. The public parks and gardens were available however, and I would often visit Kew or relax on Hampstead Heath or enjoy the scent of the rose gardens in Regents Park. Hyde Park was also a short walk from my college (past the Albert Hall and up some steps by the Albert memorial) and I frequently spent a lunch break by the serpentine. I didn’t read romance novels back then but if I retrace my steps someday I might now imagine myself as a young buck on horse back or riding in a carriage through the park!
    Using a garden as the location for a novel sounds a great idea and I don’t mind if historical facts are distorted a little in aid of a good plot. I do have a small garden with a number of fuchias but I am always left with feelings of awe after visiting local show gardens. Hidcote Manor and Kiftsgate are favorites … the Kiftsgate rose would cover my house and is a stunning spectacle when in flower! Hampton Court castle garden also has superb flower gardens and an exciting maze and waterfall that can be walked behind. I had fun taking photos with a high speed shutter to freeze the water droplets. The gothic architecture feels as though it aught to have a ghost as well. It would make a splendid location for a romance and the heroine could peer out through the waterfall instead of fuchsias and rescue the hero from the maze!
    Looking forward to the new series …. hope there will be an audio version.

    Reply
  22. During my six student years in London I lived in fairly cheap flats which didn’t have access to garden squares. The public parks and gardens were available however, and I would often visit Kew or relax on Hampstead Heath or enjoy the scent of the rose gardens in Regents Park. Hyde Park was also a short walk from my college (past the Albert Hall and up some steps by the Albert memorial) and I frequently spent a lunch break by the serpentine. I didn’t read romance novels back then but if I retrace my steps someday I might now imagine myself as a young buck on horse back or riding in a carriage through the park!
    Using a garden as the location for a novel sounds a great idea and I don’t mind if historical facts are distorted a little in aid of a good plot. I do have a small garden with a number of fuchias but I am always left with feelings of awe after visiting local show gardens. Hidcote Manor and Kiftsgate are favorites … the Kiftsgate rose would cover my house and is a stunning spectacle when in flower! Hampton Court castle garden also has superb flower gardens and an exciting maze and waterfall that can be walked behind. I had fun taking photos with a high speed shutter to freeze the water droplets. The gothic architecture feels as though it aught to have a ghost as well. It would make a splendid location for a romance and the heroine could peer out through the waterfall instead of fuchsias and rescue the hero from the maze!
    Looking forward to the new series …. hope there will be an audio version.

    Reply
  23. During my six student years in London I lived in fairly cheap flats which didn’t have access to garden squares. The public parks and gardens were available however, and I would often visit Kew or relax on Hampstead Heath or enjoy the scent of the rose gardens in Regents Park. Hyde Park was also a short walk from my college (past the Albert Hall and up some steps by the Albert memorial) and I frequently spent a lunch break by the serpentine. I didn’t read romance novels back then but if I retrace my steps someday I might now imagine myself as a young buck on horse back or riding in a carriage through the park!
    Using a garden as the location for a novel sounds a great idea and I don’t mind if historical facts are distorted a little in aid of a good plot. I do have a small garden with a number of fuchias but I am always left with feelings of awe after visiting local show gardens. Hidcote Manor and Kiftsgate are favorites … the Kiftsgate rose would cover my house and is a stunning spectacle when in flower! Hampton Court castle garden also has superb flower gardens and an exciting maze and waterfall that can be walked behind. I had fun taking photos with a high speed shutter to freeze the water droplets. The gothic architecture feels as though it aught to have a ghost as well. It would make a splendid location for a romance and the heroine could peer out through the waterfall instead of fuchsias and rescue the hero from the maze!
    Looking forward to the new series …. hope there will be an audio version.

    Reply
  24. During my six student years in London I lived in fairly cheap flats which didn’t have access to garden squares. The public parks and gardens were available however, and I would often visit Kew or relax on Hampstead Heath or enjoy the scent of the rose gardens in Regents Park. Hyde Park was also a short walk from my college (past the Albert Hall and up some steps by the Albert memorial) and I frequently spent a lunch break by the serpentine. I didn’t read romance novels back then but if I retrace my steps someday I might now imagine myself as a young buck on horse back or riding in a carriage through the park!
    Using a garden as the location for a novel sounds a great idea and I don’t mind if historical facts are distorted a little in aid of a good plot. I do have a small garden with a number of fuchias but I am always left with feelings of awe after visiting local show gardens. Hidcote Manor and Kiftsgate are favorites … the Kiftsgate rose would cover my house and is a stunning spectacle when in flower! Hampton Court castle garden also has superb flower gardens and an exciting maze and waterfall that can be walked behind. I had fun taking photos with a high speed shutter to freeze the water droplets. The gothic architecture feels as though it aught to have a ghost as well. It would make a splendid location for a romance and the heroine could peer out through the waterfall instead of fuchsias and rescue the hero from the maze!
    Looking forward to the new series …. hope there will be an audio version.

    Reply
  25. During my six student years in London I lived in fairly cheap flats which didn’t have access to garden squares. The public parks and gardens were available however, and I would often visit Kew or relax on Hampstead Heath or enjoy the scent of the rose gardens in Regents Park. Hyde Park was also a short walk from my college (past the Albert Hall and up some steps by the Albert memorial) and I frequently spent a lunch break by the serpentine. I didn’t read romance novels back then but if I retrace my steps someday I might now imagine myself as a young buck on horse back or riding in a carriage through the park!
    Using a garden as the location for a novel sounds a great idea and I don’t mind if historical facts are distorted a little in aid of a good plot. I do have a small garden with a number of fuchias but I am always left with feelings of awe after visiting local show gardens. Hidcote Manor and Kiftsgate are favorites … the Kiftsgate rose would cover my house and is a stunning spectacle when in flower! Hampton Court castle garden also has superb flower gardens and an exciting maze and waterfall that can be walked behind. I had fun taking photos with a high speed shutter to freeze the water droplets. The gothic architecture feels as though it aught to have a ghost as well. It would make a splendid location for a romance and the heroine could peer out through the waterfall instead of fuchsias and rescue the hero from the maze!
    Looking forward to the new series …. hope there will be an audio version.

    Reply
  26. Thanks, Christina. How lucky were you to have access to one of these gardens – and how fabulous that the rich gentleman footed the bill for you all. I can imagine in a big, busy city it would be perfect for taking small kids, knowing it was a safe place to play. And lovely for relaxing in, as you say.

    Reply
  27. Thanks, Christina. How lucky were you to have access to one of these gardens – and how fabulous that the rich gentleman footed the bill for you all. I can imagine in a big, busy city it would be perfect for taking small kids, knowing it was a safe place to play. And lovely for relaxing in, as you say.

    Reply
  28. Thanks, Christina. How lucky were you to have access to one of these gardens – and how fabulous that the rich gentleman footed the bill for you all. I can imagine in a big, busy city it would be perfect for taking small kids, knowing it was a safe place to play. And lovely for relaxing in, as you say.

    Reply
  29. Thanks, Christina. How lucky were you to have access to one of these gardens – and how fabulous that the rich gentleman footed the bill for you all. I can imagine in a big, busy city it would be perfect for taking small kids, knowing it was a safe place to play. And lovely for relaxing in, as you say.

    Reply
  30. Thanks, Christina. How lucky were you to have access to one of these gardens – and how fabulous that the rich gentleman footed the bill for you all. I can imagine in a big, busy city it would be perfect for taking small kids, knowing it was a safe place to play. And lovely for relaxing in, as you say.

    Reply
  31. Sue, what a lovely post. I’ve never been to St Louis, but if I ever go there, I’ll definitely look up Shaw’s Gardens and the Jewel box. And you’re absolutely right about hot houses — they boomed at this period. I was thinking of including a bit about them, but the post was getting too long so I cut it. Maybe a future post.

    Reply
  32. Sue, what a lovely post. I’ve never been to St Louis, but if I ever go there, I’ll definitely look up Shaw’s Gardens and the Jewel box. And you’re absolutely right about hot houses — they boomed at this period. I was thinking of including a bit about them, but the post was getting too long so I cut it. Maybe a future post.

    Reply
  33. Sue, what a lovely post. I’ve never been to St Louis, but if I ever go there, I’ll definitely look up Shaw’s Gardens and the Jewel box. And you’re absolutely right about hot houses — they boomed at this period. I was thinking of including a bit about them, but the post was getting too long so I cut it. Maybe a future post.

    Reply
  34. Sue, what a lovely post. I’ve never been to St Louis, but if I ever go there, I’ll definitely look up Shaw’s Gardens and the Jewel box. And you’re absolutely right about hot houses — they boomed at this period. I was thinking of including a bit about them, but the post was getting too long so I cut it. Maybe a future post.

    Reply
  35. Sue, what a lovely post. I’ve never been to St Louis, but if I ever go there, I’ll definitely look up Shaw’s Gardens and the Jewel box. And you’re absolutely right about hot houses — they boomed at this period. I was thinking of including a bit about them, but the post was getting too long so I cut it. Maybe a future post.

    Reply
  36. Thanks for the garden suggestions, Quantum — they’re going on the list. As for the maze, I did have a maze in a character’s country property in my “Devil Riders” series and I seem to recall some hanky-panky took place there! I do love mazes – not to be confused with labyrinths, which Mary Jo’s book The Spiral Path hooked me on. But it might be time for another maze. We’ll see.
    As for public gardens, in Melbourne we have some beautiful public gardens, of the botanical sort but also of other kinds. Melbourne was a planned city, and space was laid out for great swathes of green space and gardens. In fact Victoria (my state) is also known as the garden state. I suppose that’s why I was so shocked to learn the gardens behind the railings were private, because ours generally aren’t — even though some are fenced with wrought iron railing.
    And yes, I’m delighted to say the new series will come out in audio, too.

    Reply
  37. Thanks for the garden suggestions, Quantum — they’re going on the list. As for the maze, I did have a maze in a character’s country property in my “Devil Riders” series and I seem to recall some hanky-panky took place there! I do love mazes – not to be confused with labyrinths, which Mary Jo’s book The Spiral Path hooked me on. But it might be time for another maze. We’ll see.
    As for public gardens, in Melbourne we have some beautiful public gardens, of the botanical sort but also of other kinds. Melbourne was a planned city, and space was laid out for great swathes of green space and gardens. In fact Victoria (my state) is also known as the garden state. I suppose that’s why I was so shocked to learn the gardens behind the railings were private, because ours generally aren’t — even though some are fenced with wrought iron railing.
    And yes, I’m delighted to say the new series will come out in audio, too.

    Reply
  38. Thanks for the garden suggestions, Quantum — they’re going on the list. As for the maze, I did have a maze in a character’s country property in my “Devil Riders” series and I seem to recall some hanky-panky took place there! I do love mazes – not to be confused with labyrinths, which Mary Jo’s book The Spiral Path hooked me on. But it might be time for another maze. We’ll see.
    As for public gardens, in Melbourne we have some beautiful public gardens, of the botanical sort but also of other kinds. Melbourne was a planned city, and space was laid out for great swathes of green space and gardens. In fact Victoria (my state) is also known as the garden state. I suppose that’s why I was so shocked to learn the gardens behind the railings were private, because ours generally aren’t — even though some are fenced with wrought iron railing.
    And yes, I’m delighted to say the new series will come out in audio, too.

    Reply
  39. Thanks for the garden suggestions, Quantum — they’re going on the list. As for the maze, I did have a maze in a character’s country property in my “Devil Riders” series and I seem to recall some hanky-panky took place there! I do love mazes – not to be confused with labyrinths, which Mary Jo’s book The Spiral Path hooked me on. But it might be time for another maze. We’ll see.
    As for public gardens, in Melbourne we have some beautiful public gardens, of the botanical sort but also of other kinds. Melbourne was a planned city, and space was laid out for great swathes of green space and gardens. In fact Victoria (my state) is also known as the garden state. I suppose that’s why I was so shocked to learn the gardens behind the railings were private, because ours generally aren’t — even though some are fenced with wrought iron railing.
    And yes, I’m delighted to say the new series will come out in audio, too.

    Reply
  40. Thanks for the garden suggestions, Quantum — they’re going on the list. As for the maze, I did have a maze in a character’s country property in my “Devil Riders” series and I seem to recall some hanky-panky took place there! I do love mazes – not to be confused with labyrinths, which Mary Jo’s book The Spiral Path hooked me on. But it might be time for another maze. We’ll see.
    As for public gardens, in Melbourne we have some beautiful public gardens, of the botanical sort but also of other kinds. Melbourne was a planned city, and space was laid out for great swathes of green space and gardens. In fact Victoria (my state) is also known as the garden state. I suppose that’s why I was so shocked to learn the gardens behind the railings were private, because ours generally aren’t — even though some are fenced with wrought iron railing.
    And yes, I’m delighted to say the new series will come out in audio, too.

    Reply
  41. The things I learn between your posts and checking in Wikipedia.
    I never knew that there is a difference between a maze and a labyrinth, since in my head I translated both into the German word Labyrinth.
    But now that I found out that there is a difference and what the difference is, I checked: Maze could apparently also be translated as Irrgarten. But while that translation keeps the idea of several routes in which you can get lost, it totally loses the scientific aspect.
    What is also interesting: The original labyrinth of the Minotaurus was probably a maze, otherwise the string from Ariadne would not have been needed.
    P.S. Yes, gardens are lovely. But as I’m not a gardening person, I like my gardens near some body of water and preferably with a view. The Island Mainau in the Lake Constance is something I would recommend. Or the Giardino Hanbury on the Italian coast near the French border. Or the gardens in Ravello on the Amalfi coast.

    Reply
  42. The things I learn between your posts and checking in Wikipedia.
    I never knew that there is a difference between a maze and a labyrinth, since in my head I translated both into the German word Labyrinth.
    But now that I found out that there is a difference and what the difference is, I checked: Maze could apparently also be translated as Irrgarten. But while that translation keeps the idea of several routes in which you can get lost, it totally loses the scientific aspect.
    What is also interesting: The original labyrinth of the Minotaurus was probably a maze, otherwise the string from Ariadne would not have been needed.
    P.S. Yes, gardens are lovely. But as I’m not a gardening person, I like my gardens near some body of water and preferably with a view. The Island Mainau in the Lake Constance is something I would recommend. Or the Giardino Hanbury on the Italian coast near the French border. Or the gardens in Ravello on the Amalfi coast.

    Reply
  43. The things I learn between your posts and checking in Wikipedia.
    I never knew that there is a difference between a maze and a labyrinth, since in my head I translated both into the German word Labyrinth.
    But now that I found out that there is a difference and what the difference is, I checked: Maze could apparently also be translated as Irrgarten. But while that translation keeps the idea of several routes in which you can get lost, it totally loses the scientific aspect.
    What is also interesting: The original labyrinth of the Minotaurus was probably a maze, otherwise the string from Ariadne would not have been needed.
    P.S. Yes, gardens are lovely. But as I’m not a gardening person, I like my gardens near some body of water and preferably with a view. The Island Mainau in the Lake Constance is something I would recommend. Or the Giardino Hanbury on the Italian coast near the French border. Or the gardens in Ravello on the Amalfi coast.

    Reply
  44. The things I learn between your posts and checking in Wikipedia.
    I never knew that there is a difference between a maze and a labyrinth, since in my head I translated both into the German word Labyrinth.
    But now that I found out that there is a difference and what the difference is, I checked: Maze could apparently also be translated as Irrgarten. But while that translation keeps the idea of several routes in which you can get lost, it totally loses the scientific aspect.
    What is also interesting: The original labyrinth of the Minotaurus was probably a maze, otherwise the string from Ariadne would not have been needed.
    P.S. Yes, gardens are lovely. But as I’m not a gardening person, I like my gardens near some body of water and preferably with a view. The Island Mainau in the Lake Constance is something I would recommend. Or the Giardino Hanbury on the Italian coast near the French border. Or the gardens in Ravello on the Amalfi coast.

    Reply
  45. The things I learn between your posts and checking in Wikipedia.
    I never knew that there is a difference between a maze and a labyrinth, since in my head I translated both into the German word Labyrinth.
    But now that I found out that there is a difference and what the difference is, I checked: Maze could apparently also be translated as Irrgarten. But while that translation keeps the idea of several routes in which you can get lost, it totally loses the scientific aspect.
    What is also interesting: The original labyrinth of the Minotaurus was probably a maze, otherwise the string from Ariadne would not have been needed.
    P.S. Yes, gardens are lovely. But as I’m not a gardening person, I like my gardens near some body of water and preferably with a view. The Island Mainau in the Lake Constance is something I would recommend. Or the Giardino Hanbury on the Italian coast near the French border. Or the gardens in Ravello on the Amalfi coast.

    Reply
  46. Your series sounds perfect! I just finished watching Monty Don’s four-part series The Secret History of the British Garden. In each episode he covers a century of garden design trends, tools, and the people who literally changed their worlds. It was absolutely fascinating, and not only because we have a foot of snow outside and expect more tomorrow. I am so looking forward to seeing my own little terraced garden someday.
    After visiting Painswick Rococo Gardens in the Cotswolds sort of by accident, I set a book there. It’s a beautiful spot with all the follies and plantings you could hope for. It’s easy to imagine the ladies wandering about in their paniers to take tea in a shady spot. Now I never miss a chance to see a historic garden wherever I am.

    Reply
  47. Your series sounds perfect! I just finished watching Monty Don’s four-part series The Secret History of the British Garden. In each episode he covers a century of garden design trends, tools, and the people who literally changed their worlds. It was absolutely fascinating, and not only because we have a foot of snow outside and expect more tomorrow. I am so looking forward to seeing my own little terraced garden someday.
    After visiting Painswick Rococo Gardens in the Cotswolds sort of by accident, I set a book there. It’s a beautiful spot with all the follies and plantings you could hope for. It’s easy to imagine the ladies wandering about in their paniers to take tea in a shady spot. Now I never miss a chance to see a historic garden wherever I am.

    Reply
  48. Your series sounds perfect! I just finished watching Monty Don’s four-part series The Secret History of the British Garden. In each episode he covers a century of garden design trends, tools, and the people who literally changed their worlds. It was absolutely fascinating, and not only because we have a foot of snow outside and expect more tomorrow. I am so looking forward to seeing my own little terraced garden someday.
    After visiting Painswick Rococo Gardens in the Cotswolds sort of by accident, I set a book there. It’s a beautiful spot with all the follies and plantings you could hope for. It’s easy to imagine the ladies wandering about in their paniers to take tea in a shady spot. Now I never miss a chance to see a historic garden wherever I am.

    Reply
  49. Your series sounds perfect! I just finished watching Monty Don’s four-part series The Secret History of the British Garden. In each episode he covers a century of garden design trends, tools, and the people who literally changed their worlds. It was absolutely fascinating, and not only because we have a foot of snow outside and expect more tomorrow. I am so looking forward to seeing my own little terraced garden someday.
    After visiting Painswick Rococo Gardens in the Cotswolds sort of by accident, I set a book there. It’s a beautiful spot with all the follies and plantings you could hope for. It’s easy to imagine the ladies wandering about in their paniers to take tea in a shady spot. Now I never miss a chance to see a historic garden wherever I am.

    Reply
  50. Your series sounds perfect! I just finished watching Monty Don’s four-part series The Secret History of the British Garden. In each episode he covers a century of garden design trends, tools, and the people who literally changed their worlds. It was absolutely fascinating, and not only because we have a foot of snow outside and expect more tomorrow. I am so looking forward to seeing my own little terraced garden someday.
    After visiting Painswick Rococo Gardens in the Cotswolds sort of by accident, I set a book there. It’s a beautiful spot with all the follies and plantings you could hope for. It’s easy to imagine the ladies wandering about in their paniers to take tea in a shady spot. Now I never miss a chance to see a historic garden wherever I am.

    Reply
  51. Thanks for a lovely post. The gardens look beautiful. And I think the idea of having a place of peace and quiet and beauty should be a requirement for cities everywhere. Gardens are God’s way of saying he/she loves us.
    I have always loved gardens. When I was young, there were 5 of us who would ride out bicycles to a cemetery and have picnics. There were swans and beautiful trees and lots of green grass. It was like those garden squares, except for the headstones and dead bodies.
    Later in life, I had the luxury of being able to create a really amazing garden, if i do say so myself. It was nearly a full time job. I had raised beds, exotic plants and specimen flowers. Then Mr Wonderful had a better plan and I moved into an apartment in a different city. Alas, I lost the garden, but I put a curse on it and everything died. But, I believe things really died cause Mr Wonderful’s new plan did not like to get her hands dirty. That report came from all my friendly former neighbors.
    Now, I have pots with plants. I have experimented. I raised quite a few trees and gave them away so the world would have more trees. Right now, I have a large pot with lots of baby’s breath, until now I had no idea it had a very sweet scent. I have begonias, impatiens, spider plants, Swedish Ivy, and quite a few other things. One of the wonderful things about living in Austin, even winter has flowers blooming on my patio.
    I loved this post, because it reminded me that for quite some time there have been people who recognized the blessings that gardens provided.
    I hope everyone is taking care and staying well.

    Reply
  52. Thanks for a lovely post. The gardens look beautiful. And I think the idea of having a place of peace and quiet and beauty should be a requirement for cities everywhere. Gardens are God’s way of saying he/she loves us.
    I have always loved gardens. When I was young, there were 5 of us who would ride out bicycles to a cemetery and have picnics. There were swans and beautiful trees and lots of green grass. It was like those garden squares, except for the headstones and dead bodies.
    Later in life, I had the luxury of being able to create a really amazing garden, if i do say so myself. It was nearly a full time job. I had raised beds, exotic plants and specimen flowers. Then Mr Wonderful had a better plan and I moved into an apartment in a different city. Alas, I lost the garden, but I put a curse on it and everything died. But, I believe things really died cause Mr Wonderful’s new plan did not like to get her hands dirty. That report came from all my friendly former neighbors.
    Now, I have pots with plants. I have experimented. I raised quite a few trees and gave them away so the world would have more trees. Right now, I have a large pot with lots of baby’s breath, until now I had no idea it had a very sweet scent. I have begonias, impatiens, spider plants, Swedish Ivy, and quite a few other things. One of the wonderful things about living in Austin, even winter has flowers blooming on my patio.
    I loved this post, because it reminded me that for quite some time there have been people who recognized the blessings that gardens provided.
    I hope everyone is taking care and staying well.

    Reply
  53. Thanks for a lovely post. The gardens look beautiful. And I think the idea of having a place of peace and quiet and beauty should be a requirement for cities everywhere. Gardens are God’s way of saying he/she loves us.
    I have always loved gardens. When I was young, there were 5 of us who would ride out bicycles to a cemetery and have picnics. There were swans and beautiful trees and lots of green grass. It was like those garden squares, except for the headstones and dead bodies.
    Later in life, I had the luxury of being able to create a really amazing garden, if i do say so myself. It was nearly a full time job. I had raised beds, exotic plants and specimen flowers. Then Mr Wonderful had a better plan and I moved into an apartment in a different city. Alas, I lost the garden, but I put a curse on it and everything died. But, I believe things really died cause Mr Wonderful’s new plan did not like to get her hands dirty. That report came from all my friendly former neighbors.
    Now, I have pots with plants. I have experimented. I raised quite a few trees and gave them away so the world would have more trees. Right now, I have a large pot with lots of baby’s breath, until now I had no idea it had a very sweet scent. I have begonias, impatiens, spider plants, Swedish Ivy, and quite a few other things. One of the wonderful things about living in Austin, even winter has flowers blooming on my patio.
    I loved this post, because it reminded me that for quite some time there have been people who recognized the blessings that gardens provided.
    I hope everyone is taking care and staying well.

    Reply
  54. Thanks for a lovely post. The gardens look beautiful. And I think the idea of having a place of peace and quiet and beauty should be a requirement for cities everywhere. Gardens are God’s way of saying he/she loves us.
    I have always loved gardens. When I was young, there were 5 of us who would ride out bicycles to a cemetery and have picnics. There were swans and beautiful trees and lots of green grass. It was like those garden squares, except for the headstones and dead bodies.
    Later in life, I had the luxury of being able to create a really amazing garden, if i do say so myself. It was nearly a full time job. I had raised beds, exotic plants and specimen flowers. Then Mr Wonderful had a better plan and I moved into an apartment in a different city. Alas, I lost the garden, but I put a curse on it and everything died. But, I believe things really died cause Mr Wonderful’s new plan did not like to get her hands dirty. That report came from all my friendly former neighbors.
    Now, I have pots with plants. I have experimented. I raised quite a few trees and gave them away so the world would have more trees. Right now, I have a large pot with lots of baby’s breath, until now I had no idea it had a very sweet scent. I have begonias, impatiens, spider plants, Swedish Ivy, and quite a few other things. One of the wonderful things about living in Austin, even winter has flowers blooming on my patio.
    I loved this post, because it reminded me that for quite some time there have been people who recognized the blessings that gardens provided.
    I hope everyone is taking care and staying well.

    Reply
  55. Thanks for a lovely post. The gardens look beautiful. And I think the idea of having a place of peace and quiet and beauty should be a requirement for cities everywhere. Gardens are God’s way of saying he/she loves us.
    I have always loved gardens. When I was young, there were 5 of us who would ride out bicycles to a cemetery and have picnics. There were swans and beautiful trees and lots of green grass. It was like those garden squares, except for the headstones and dead bodies.
    Later in life, I had the luxury of being able to create a really amazing garden, if i do say so myself. It was nearly a full time job. I had raised beds, exotic plants and specimen flowers. Then Mr Wonderful had a better plan and I moved into an apartment in a different city. Alas, I lost the garden, but I put a curse on it and everything died. But, I believe things really died cause Mr Wonderful’s new plan did not like to get her hands dirty. That report came from all my friendly former neighbors.
    Now, I have pots with plants. I have experimented. I raised quite a few trees and gave them away so the world would have more trees. Right now, I have a large pot with lots of baby’s breath, until now I had no idea it had a very sweet scent. I have begonias, impatiens, spider plants, Swedish Ivy, and quite a few other things. One of the wonderful things about living in Austin, even winter has flowers blooming on my patio.
    I loved this post, because it reminded me that for quite some time there have been people who recognized the blessings that gardens provided.
    I hope everyone is taking care and staying well.

    Reply
  56. Hi Maggie. Is the rococo garden book part of your ‘Cotswold Confidential’ series? I last visited when the snowdrops were out …they were beautiful! I imagine that your book would have made good use of some of the charming follies?

    Reply
  57. Hi Maggie. Is the rococo garden book part of your ‘Cotswold Confidential’ series? I last visited when the snowdrops were out …they were beautiful! I imagine that your book would have made good use of some of the charming follies?

    Reply
  58. Hi Maggie. Is the rococo garden book part of your ‘Cotswold Confidential’ series? I last visited when the snowdrops were out …they were beautiful! I imagine that your book would have made good use of some of the charming follies?

    Reply
  59. Hi Maggie. Is the rococo garden book part of your ‘Cotswold Confidential’ series? I last visited when the snowdrops were out …they were beautiful! I imagine that your book would have made good use of some of the charming follies?

    Reply
  60. Hi Maggie. Is the rococo garden book part of your ‘Cotswold Confidential’ series? I last visited when the snowdrops were out …they were beautiful! I imagine that your book would have made good use of some of the charming follies?

    Reply
  61. What a wonderful post to read on a snowy day! Thank you, Anne! I remember the first day I walked around Stourhead in Wiltshire (on the list you provided) as one of the happiest days of my life. There was something new to see around every corner or curve, and for some unfathomable reason on a gorgeous June day, I seemed to be the only person there. Definitely worth a trip out from London for the day.
    My husband is an amateur botanist, so we have visited gardens every time we’ve visited the UK, although he was not with me on that first visit to Stourhead. His favorite by far is Logan Botanical Garden, located in the very most southwestern tip of Scotland. Because that part of Scotland, like Southwest England, sits in the Gulf Stream, many tropical and semi-tropical plants flourish there. Our bathroom is decorated with a photograph I took of a huge wall of deep purple-blue echium nervosum, a plant we’d never seen til then.
    And someone with your talents, Anne, could make a wonderful novel from the history of The Lost Gardens of Heligan, located in Cornwall. Once part of a huge estate, belonging to the same family from the mid-18th century until the 20th, the gardens went into disuse, and then into an almost jungle-like state, after WWI. “Rediscovered” in the 1990s when the new owner was hacking back plants and found a door into the walled garden, it is now a flourishing, beautiful, bountiful glory. One of the saddest things I’ve ever seen is the handwritten log kept by the last head gardener, who noted the date that each young man from the estate left for the war. None of them returned.
    Thank you again; I’ve enjoyed remembering some of my own favorite gardens. By the way, my husband’s next gardening attempt is to grow the NSW Christmas Flower you shared in your Christmas post – wish us luck!

    Reply
  62. What a wonderful post to read on a snowy day! Thank you, Anne! I remember the first day I walked around Stourhead in Wiltshire (on the list you provided) as one of the happiest days of my life. There was something new to see around every corner or curve, and for some unfathomable reason on a gorgeous June day, I seemed to be the only person there. Definitely worth a trip out from London for the day.
    My husband is an amateur botanist, so we have visited gardens every time we’ve visited the UK, although he was not with me on that first visit to Stourhead. His favorite by far is Logan Botanical Garden, located in the very most southwestern tip of Scotland. Because that part of Scotland, like Southwest England, sits in the Gulf Stream, many tropical and semi-tropical plants flourish there. Our bathroom is decorated with a photograph I took of a huge wall of deep purple-blue echium nervosum, a plant we’d never seen til then.
    And someone with your talents, Anne, could make a wonderful novel from the history of The Lost Gardens of Heligan, located in Cornwall. Once part of a huge estate, belonging to the same family from the mid-18th century until the 20th, the gardens went into disuse, and then into an almost jungle-like state, after WWI. “Rediscovered” in the 1990s when the new owner was hacking back plants and found a door into the walled garden, it is now a flourishing, beautiful, bountiful glory. One of the saddest things I’ve ever seen is the handwritten log kept by the last head gardener, who noted the date that each young man from the estate left for the war. None of them returned.
    Thank you again; I’ve enjoyed remembering some of my own favorite gardens. By the way, my husband’s next gardening attempt is to grow the NSW Christmas Flower you shared in your Christmas post – wish us luck!

    Reply
  63. What a wonderful post to read on a snowy day! Thank you, Anne! I remember the first day I walked around Stourhead in Wiltshire (on the list you provided) as one of the happiest days of my life. There was something new to see around every corner or curve, and for some unfathomable reason on a gorgeous June day, I seemed to be the only person there. Definitely worth a trip out from London for the day.
    My husband is an amateur botanist, so we have visited gardens every time we’ve visited the UK, although he was not with me on that first visit to Stourhead. His favorite by far is Logan Botanical Garden, located in the very most southwestern tip of Scotland. Because that part of Scotland, like Southwest England, sits in the Gulf Stream, many tropical and semi-tropical plants flourish there. Our bathroom is decorated with a photograph I took of a huge wall of deep purple-blue echium nervosum, a plant we’d never seen til then.
    And someone with your talents, Anne, could make a wonderful novel from the history of The Lost Gardens of Heligan, located in Cornwall. Once part of a huge estate, belonging to the same family from the mid-18th century until the 20th, the gardens went into disuse, and then into an almost jungle-like state, after WWI. “Rediscovered” in the 1990s when the new owner was hacking back plants and found a door into the walled garden, it is now a flourishing, beautiful, bountiful glory. One of the saddest things I’ve ever seen is the handwritten log kept by the last head gardener, who noted the date that each young man from the estate left for the war. None of them returned.
    Thank you again; I’ve enjoyed remembering some of my own favorite gardens. By the way, my husband’s next gardening attempt is to grow the NSW Christmas Flower you shared in your Christmas post – wish us luck!

    Reply
  64. What a wonderful post to read on a snowy day! Thank you, Anne! I remember the first day I walked around Stourhead in Wiltshire (on the list you provided) as one of the happiest days of my life. There was something new to see around every corner or curve, and for some unfathomable reason on a gorgeous June day, I seemed to be the only person there. Definitely worth a trip out from London for the day.
    My husband is an amateur botanist, so we have visited gardens every time we’ve visited the UK, although he was not with me on that first visit to Stourhead. His favorite by far is Logan Botanical Garden, located in the very most southwestern tip of Scotland. Because that part of Scotland, like Southwest England, sits in the Gulf Stream, many tropical and semi-tropical plants flourish there. Our bathroom is decorated with a photograph I took of a huge wall of deep purple-blue echium nervosum, a plant we’d never seen til then.
    And someone with your talents, Anne, could make a wonderful novel from the history of The Lost Gardens of Heligan, located in Cornwall. Once part of a huge estate, belonging to the same family from the mid-18th century until the 20th, the gardens went into disuse, and then into an almost jungle-like state, after WWI. “Rediscovered” in the 1990s when the new owner was hacking back plants and found a door into the walled garden, it is now a flourishing, beautiful, bountiful glory. One of the saddest things I’ve ever seen is the handwritten log kept by the last head gardener, who noted the date that each young man from the estate left for the war. None of them returned.
    Thank you again; I’ve enjoyed remembering some of my own favorite gardens. By the way, my husband’s next gardening attempt is to grow the NSW Christmas Flower you shared in your Christmas post – wish us luck!

    Reply
  65. What a wonderful post to read on a snowy day! Thank you, Anne! I remember the first day I walked around Stourhead in Wiltshire (on the list you provided) as one of the happiest days of my life. There was something new to see around every corner or curve, and for some unfathomable reason on a gorgeous June day, I seemed to be the only person there. Definitely worth a trip out from London for the day.
    My husband is an amateur botanist, so we have visited gardens every time we’ve visited the UK, although he was not with me on that first visit to Stourhead. His favorite by far is Logan Botanical Garden, located in the very most southwestern tip of Scotland. Because that part of Scotland, like Southwest England, sits in the Gulf Stream, many tropical and semi-tropical plants flourish there. Our bathroom is decorated with a photograph I took of a huge wall of deep purple-blue echium nervosum, a plant we’d never seen til then.
    And someone with your talents, Anne, could make a wonderful novel from the history of The Lost Gardens of Heligan, located in Cornwall. Once part of a huge estate, belonging to the same family from the mid-18th century until the 20th, the gardens went into disuse, and then into an almost jungle-like state, after WWI. “Rediscovered” in the 1990s when the new owner was hacking back plants and found a door into the walled garden, it is now a flourishing, beautiful, bountiful glory. One of the saddest things I’ve ever seen is the handwritten log kept by the last head gardener, who noted the date that each young man from the estate left for the war. None of them returned.
    Thank you again; I’ve enjoyed remembering some of my own favorite gardens. By the way, my husband’s next gardening attempt is to grow the NSW Christmas Flower you shared in your Christmas post – wish us luck!

    Reply
  66. Bend away, Anne! And I’m with Constance: so nice to sink into your descriptions and pictures and forget about the mucky winter outside!
    As to my garden: I set out every spring with high hopes and the best of intentions, and by the time everything is planted, it all looks beautiful! Then despite my frequent (obviously not frequent enough!) half-hearted attempts at weeding and regular watering, everything seems to collapse into chaos by early July. The gardening catalogs have just started arriving in the mail, so my hopes and plans are about to soar once again to unreasonable heights.

    Reply
  67. Bend away, Anne! And I’m with Constance: so nice to sink into your descriptions and pictures and forget about the mucky winter outside!
    As to my garden: I set out every spring with high hopes and the best of intentions, and by the time everything is planted, it all looks beautiful! Then despite my frequent (obviously not frequent enough!) half-hearted attempts at weeding and regular watering, everything seems to collapse into chaos by early July. The gardening catalogs have just started arriving in the mail, so my hopes and plans are about to soar once again to unreasonable heights.

    Reply
  68. Bend away, Anne! And I’m with Constance: so nice to sink into your descriptions and pictures and forget about the mucky winter outside!
    As to my garden: I set out every spring with high hopes and the best of intentions, and by the time everything is planted, it all looks beautiful! Then despite my frequent (obviously not frequent enough!) half-hearted attempts at weeding and regular watering, everything seems to collapse into chaos by early July. The gardening catalogs have just started arriving in the mail, so my hopes and plans are about to soar once again to unreasonable heights.

    Reply
  69. Bend away, Anne! And I’m with Constance: so nice to sink into your descriptions and pictures and forget about the mucky winter outside!
    As to my garden: I set out every spring with high hopes and the best of intentions, and by the time everything is planted, it all looks beautiful! Then despite my frequent (obviously not frequent enough!) half-hearted attempts at weeding and regular watering, everything seems to collapse into chaos by early July. The gardening catalogs have just started arriving in the mail, so my hopes and plans are about to soar once again to unreasonable heights.

    Reply
  70. Bend away, Anne! And I’m with Constance: so nice to sink into your descriptions and pictures and forget about the mucky winter outside!
    As to my garden: I set out every spring with high hopes and the best of intentions, and by the time everything is planted, it all looks beautiful! Then despite my frequent (obviously not frequent enough!) half-hearted attempts at weeding and regular watering, everything seems to collapse into chaos by early July. The gardening catalogs have just started arriving in the mail, so my hopes and plans are about to soar once again to unreasonable heights.

    Reply
  71. Katya, I didn’t know that either, until I read Mary Jo’s contemporary novel, The Spiral Path. That set me on a labyrinth-hunting expedition and found there are more than people realize, tucked away here and there. Mary Jo even took me to one near her place and somewhere I have a photo she took of me walking it.
    “The original labyrinth of the Minotaurus was probably a maze, otherwise the string from Ariadne would not have been needed.”
    Yes, I think that must be so. Maybe those first translators didn’t distinguish between the two.
    Thank you for those garden recommendations. For some reason you’ve made me think of that movie The Garden of the Finzi-Contini.

    Reply
  72. Katya, I didn’t know that either, until I read Mary Jo’s contemporary novel, The Spiral Path. That set me on a labyrinth-hunting expedition and found there are more than people realize, tucked away here and there. Mary Jo even took me to one near her place and somewhere I have a photo she took of me walking it.
    “The original labyrinth of the Minotaurus was probably a maze, otherwise the string from Ariadne would not have been needed.”
    Yes, I think that must be so. Maybe those first translators didn’t distinguish between the two.
    Thank you for those garden recommendations. For some reason you’ve made me think of that movie The Garden of the Finzi-Contini.

    Reply
  73. Katya, I didn’t know that either, until I read Mary Jo’s contemporary novel, The Spiral Path. That set me on a labyrinth-hunting expedition and found there are more than people realize, tucked away here and there. Mary Jo even took me to one near her place and somewhere I have a photo she took of me walking it.
    “The original labyrinth of the Minotaurus was probably a maze, otherwise the string from Ariadne would not have been needed.”
    Yes, I think that must be so. Maybe those first translators didn’t distinguish between the two.
    Thank you for those garden recommendations. For some reason you’ve made me think of that movie The Garden of the Finzi-Contini.

    Reply
  74. Katya, I didn’t know that either, until I read Mary Jo’s contemporary novel, The Spiral Path. That set me on a labyrinth-hunting expedition and found there are more than people realize, tucked away here and there. Mary Jo even took me to one near her place and somewhere I have a photo she took of me walking it.
    “The original labyrinth of the Minotaurus was probably a maze, otherwise the string from Ariadne would not have been needed.”
    Yes, I think that must be so. Maybe those first translators didn’t distinguish between the two.
    Thank you for those garden recommendations. For some reason you’ve made me think of that movie The Garden of the Finzi-Contini.

    Reply
  75. Katya, I didn’t know that either, until I read Mary Jo’s contemporary novel, The Spiral Path. That set me on a labyrinth-hunting expedition and found there are more than people realize, tucked away here and there. Mary Jo even took me to one near her place and somewhere I have a photo she took of me walking it.
    “The original labyrinth of the Minotaurus was probably a maze, otherwise the string from Ariadne would not have been needed.”
    Yes, I think that must be so. Maybe those first translators didn’t distinguish between the two.
    Thank you for those garden recommendations. For some reason you’ve made me think of that movie The Garden of the Finzi-Contini.

    Reply
  76. Hi Maggie, I recently watched Monty Don’s French Garden series, which was fascinating. Can’t wait for the Secret History of the British Garden.
    I just looked up the Painswick Rococo Gardens — they look gorgeous. Quantum mentioned the charming follies there, and I immediately added it to my list. I love follies and quirky little buildings. I have a vague plan to have one in my own little garden — something part quirky folly and part practical garden shed. 🙂 The original dilapidated old shed that had to be pulled down (before it fell down) had a big arched window, which has inspired my current fantasy shed.

    Reply
  77. Hi Maggie, I recently watched Monty Don’s French Garden series, which was fascinating. Can’t wait for the Secret History of the British Garden.
    I just looked up the Painswick Rococo Gardens — they look gorgeous. Quantum mentioned the charming follies there, and I immediately added it to my list. I love follies and quirky little buildings. I have a vague plan to have one in my own little garden — something part quirky folly and part practical garden shed. 🙂 The original dilapidated old shed that had to be pulled down (before it fell down) had a big arched window, which has inspired my current fantasy shed.

    Reply
  78. Hi Maggie, I recently watched Monty Don’s French Garden series, which was fascinating. Can’t wait for the Secret History of the British Garden.
    I just looked up the Painswick Rococo Gardens — they look gorgeous. Quantum mentioned the charming follies there, and I immediately added it to my list. I love follies and quirky little buildings. I have a vague plan to have one in my own little garden — something part quirky folly and part practical garden shed. 🙂 The original dilapidated old shed that had to be pulled down (before it fell down) had a big arched window, which has inspired my current fantasy shed.

    Reply
  79. Hi Maggie, I recently watched Monty Don’s French Garden series, which was fascinating. Can’t wait for the Secret History of the British Garden.
    I just looked up the Painswick Rococo Gardens — they look gorgeous. Quantum mentioned the charming follies there, and I immediately added it to my list. I love follies and quirky little buildings. I have a vague plan to have one in my own little garden — something part quirky folly and part practical garden shed. 🙂 The original dilapidated old shed that had to be pulled down (before it fell down) had a big arched window, which has inspired my current fantasy shed.

    Reply
  80. Hi Maggie, I recently watched Monty Don’s French Garden series, which was fascinating. Can’t wait for the Secret History of the British Garden.
    I just looked up the Painswick Rococo Gardens — they look gorgeous. Quantum mentioned the charming follies there, and I immediately added it to my list. I love follies and quirky little buildings. I have a vague plan to have one in my own little garden — something part quirky folly and part practical garden shed. 🙂 The original dilapidated old shed that had to be pulled down (before it fell down) had a big arched window, which has inspired my current fantasy shed.

    Reply
  81. How interesting that you picnicked in a cemetery, Annette. When I was a student I lived half a block from the Melbourne General cemetery, which is an old historical cemetery full of fascinating headstones and peaceful corners. I used to ride my bike to Uni through it, and also walk my dog there. It certainly taught me that a a cemetery could be a peaceful and lovely place. Also I have Macedonian friends, and have been so a number of funerals, and one of their rituals is to eat together near the grave after the funeral, and on several dates months afterward. Such a friendly thing to do.
    It’s hard to lose a garden you’ve nurtured from the start. A friend of mine has moved into a lovely apartment, but misses her glorious old garden. I’ve also started keeping pot plants again.
    If you ever get to visit Melbourne, you’ll see that the people who planned this city (Victorian era) included plenty of gardens and green space. There’s actually more in the centre of the city than there is in the suburbs, where much of the later development was left to speculators who wanted to sell and build on every spare inch. Short sightedness and greed.

    Reply
  82. How interesting that you picnicked in a cemetery, Annette. When I was a student I lived half a block from the Melbourne General cemetery, which is an old historical cemetery full of fascinating headstones and peaceful corners. I used to ride my bike to Uni through it, and also walk my dog there. It certainly taught me that a a cemetery could be a peaceful and lovely place. Also I have Macedonian friends, and have been so a number of funerals, and one of their rituals is to eat together near the grave after the funeral, and on several dates months afterward. Such a friendly thing to do.
    It’s hard to lose a garden you’ve nurtured from the start. A friend of mine has moved into a lovely apartment, but misses her glorious old garden. I’ve also started keeping pot plants again.
    If you ever get to visit Melbourne, you’ll see that the people who planned this city (Victorian era) included plenty of gardens and green space. There’s actually more in the centre of the city than there is in the suburbs, where much of the later development was left to speculators who wanted to sell and build on every spare inch. Short sightedness and greed.

    Reply
  83. How interesting that you picnicked in a cemetery, Annette. When I was a student I lived half a block from the Melbourne General cemetery, which is an old historical cemetery full of fascinating headstones and peaceful corners. I used to ride my bike to Uni through it, and also walk my dog there. It certainly taught me that a a cemetery could be a peaceful and lovely place. Also I have Macedonian friends, and have been so a number of funerals, and one of their rituals is to eat together near the grave after the funeral, and on several dates months afterward. Such a friendly thing to do.
    It’s hard to lose a garden you’ve nurtured from the start. A friend of mine has moved into a lovely apartment, but misses her glorious old garden. I’ve also started keeping pot plants again.
    If you ever get to visit Melbourne, you’ll see that the people who planned this city (Victorian era) included plenty of gardens and green space. There’s actually more in the centre of the city than there is in the suburbs, where much of the later development was left to speculators who wanted to sell and build on every spare inch. Short sightedness and greed.

    Reply
  84. How interesting that you picnicked in a cemetery, Annette. When I was a student I lived half a block from the Melbourne General cemetery, which is an old historical cemetery full of fascinating headstones and peaceful corners. I used to ride my bike to Uni through it, and also walk my dog there. It certainly taught me that a a cemetery could be a peaceful and lovely place. Also I have Macedonian friends, and have been so a number of funerals, and one of their rituals is to eat together near the grave after the funeral, and on several dates months afterward. Such a friendly thing to do.
    It’s hard to lose a garden you’ve nurtured from the start. A friend of mine has moved into a lovely apartment, but misses her glorious old garden. I’ve also started keeping pot plants again.
    If you ever get to visit Melbourne, you’ll see that the people who planned this city (Victorian era) included plenty of gardens and green space. There’s actually more in the centre of the city than there is in the suburbs, where much of the later development was left to speculators who wanted to sell and build on every spare inch. Short sightedness and greed.

    Reply
  85. How interesting that you picnicked in a cemetery, Annette. When I was a student I lived half a block from the Melbourne General cemetery, which is an old historical cemetery full of fascinating headstones and peaceful corners. I used to ride my bike to Uni through it, and also walk my dog there. It certainly taught me that a a cemetery could be a peaceful and lovely place. Also I have Macedonian friends, and have been so a number of funerals, and one of their rituals is to eat together near the grave after the funeral, and on several dates months afterward. Such a friendly thing to do.
    It’s hard to lose a garden you’ve nurtured from the start. A friend of mine has moved into a lovely apartment, but misses her glorious old garden. I’ve also started keeping pot plants again.
    If you ever get to visit Melbourne, you’ll see that the people who planned this city (Victorian era) included plenty of gardens and green space. There’s actually more in the centre of the city than there is in the suburbs, where much of the later development was left to speculators who wanted to sell and build on every spare inch. Short sightedness and greed.

    Reply
  86. Ooh, Constance, I’m off to research The Lost Gardens of Heligan. Thank you. What a lovely story. And such a sad journal. So many young men lost, and for what?
    There is a novel by Kate Morton called The Forgotten garden, which is a lovely read. I love stories about gardens’ especially secret or lost gardens. Partly that’s because of The Secret Garden, which I read as a child, but also because I had my own secret garden experience when I was a child and went to Scotland for a year. We arrived in the middle of a very bitter winter and the garden of our house was all frozen, hard-packed snow, with a few sad-looking twigs poking out of it. I couldn’t believe anything could survive that. But it did, and it was like a miracle to me, aged 8.
    Best of luck with your NSW Christmas bush. Keep me posted.

    Reply
  87. Ooh, Constance, I’m off to research The Lost Gardens of Heligan. Thank you. What a lovely story. And such a sad journal. So many young men lost, and for what?
    There is a novel by Kate Morton called The Forgotten garden, which is a lovely read. I love stories about gardens’ especially secret or lost gardens. Partly that’s because of The Secret Garden, which I read as a child, but also because I had my own secret garden experience when I was a child and went to Scotland for a year. We arrived in the middle of a very bitter winter and the garden of our house was all frozen, hard-packed snow, with a few sad-looking twigs poking out of it. I couldn’t believe anything could survive that. But it did, and it was like a miracle to me, aged 8.
    Best of luck with your NSW Christmas bush. Keep me posted.

    Reply
  88. Ooh, Constance, I’m off to research The Lost Gardens of Heligan. Thank you. What a lovely story. And such a sad journal. So many young men lost, and for what?
    There is a novel by Kate Morton called The Forgotten garden, which is a lovely read. I love stories about gardens’ especially secret or lost gardens. Partly that’s because of The Secret Garden, which I read as a child, but also because I had my own secret garden experience when I was a child and went to Scotland for a year. We arrived in the middle of a very bitter winter and the garden of our house was all frozen, hard-packed snow, with a few sad-looking twigs poking out of it. I couldn’t believe anything could survive that. But it did, and it was like a miracle to me, aged 8.
    Best of luck with your NSW Christmas bush. Keep me posted.

    Reply
  89. Ooh, Constance, I’m off to research The Lost Gardens of Heligan. Thank you. What a lovely story. And such a sad journal. So many young men lost, and for what?
    There is a novel by Kate Morton called The Forgotten garden, which is a lovely read. I love stories about gardens’ especially secret or lost gardens. Partly that’s because of The Secret Garden, which I read as a child, but also because I had my own secret garden experience when I was a child and went to Scotland for a year. We arrived in the middle of a very bitter winter and the garden of our house was all frozen, hard-packed snow, with a few sad-looking twigs poking out of it. I couldn’t believe anything could survive that. But it did, and it was like a miracle to me, aged 8.
    Best of luck with your NSW Christmas bush. Keep me posted.

    Reply
  90. Ooh, Constance, I’m off to research The Lost Gardens of Heligan. Thank you. What a lovely story. And such a sad journal. So many young men lost, and for what?
    There is a novel by Kate Morton called The Forgotten garden, which is a lovely read. I love stories about gardens’ especially secret or lost gardens. Partly that’s because of The Secret Garden, which I read as a child, but also because I had my own secret garden experience when I was a child and went to Scotland for a year. We arrived in the middle of a very bitter winter and the garden of our house was all frozen, hard-packed snow, with a few sad-looking twigs poking out of it. I couldn’t believe anything could survive that. But it did, and it was like a miracle to me, aged 8.
    Best of luck with your NSW Christmas bush. Keep me posted.

    Reply
  91. Oh Margaret, I hear you on the weeding thing! Watering is fine, but weeding. Mine grow so fast and I’m ashamed to say that I’ve let them go this year, telling myself that it will all be wrecked anyway by my renovations, and I’ll start again.
    I remember when I had a new roof put on, umpteen years ago, and I showed the roofers the plants to be careful of. They assured me they’d take care, and I headed off to work. Got home to find the ladder to the roof had been placed right behind a precious and beloved azalea — which I had showed them! —that was about to bloom. The azalea was now just a trampled mess of sticks and leaves. They’d placed the ladder right where their big builders’ boots would step off it, directly onto my lovely plant. (Hold a grudge still? Me? LOL )

    Reply
  92. Oh Margaret, I hear you on the weeding thing! Watering is fine, but weeding. Mine grow so fast and I’m ashamed to say that I’ve let them go this year, telling myself that it will all be wrecked anyway by my renovations, and I’ll start again.
    I remember when I had a new roof put on, umpteen years ago, and I showed the roofers the plants to be careful of. They assured me they’d take care, and I headed off to work. Got home to find the ladder to the roof had been placed right behind a precious and beloved azalea — which I had showed them! —that was about to bloom. The azalea was now just a trampled mess of sticks and leaves. They’d placed the ladder right where their big builders’ boots would step off it, directly onto my lovely plant. (Hold a grudge still? Me? LOL )

    Reply
  93. Oh Margaret, I hear you on the weeding thing! Watering is fine, but weeding. Mine grow so fast and I’m ashamed to say that I’ve let them go this year, telling myself that it will all be wrecked anyway by my renovations, and I’ll start again.
    I remember when I had a new roof put on, umpteen years ago, and I showed the roofers the plants to be careful of. They assured me they’d take care, and I headed off to work. Got home to find the ladder to the roof had been placed right behind a precious and beloved azalea — which I had showed them! —that was about to bloom. The azalea was now just a trampled mess of sticks and leaves. They’d placed the ladder right where their big builders’ boots would step off it, directly onto my lovely plant. (Hold a grudge still? Me? LOL )

    Reply
  94. Oh Margaret, I hear you on the weeding thing! Watering is fine, but weeding. Mine grow so fast and I’m ashamed to say that I’ve let them go this year, telling myself that it will all be wrecked anyway by my renovations, and I’ll start again.
    I remember when I had a new roof put on, umpteen years ago, and I showed the roofers the plants to be careful of. They assured me they’d take care, and I headed off to work. Got home to find the ladder to the roof had been placed right behind a precious and beloved azalea — which I had showed them! —that was about to bloom. The azalea was now just a trampled mess of sticks and leaves. They’d placed the ladder right where their big builders’ boots would step off it, directly onto my lovely plant. (Hold a grudge still? Me? LOL )

    Reply
  95. Oh Margaret, I hear you on the weeding thing! Watering is fine, but weeding. Mine grow so fast and I’m ashamed to say that I’ve let them go this year, telling myself that it will all be wrecked anyway by my renovations, and I’ll start again.
    I remember when I had a new roof put on, umpteen years ago, and I showed the roofers the plants to be careful of. They assured me they’d take care, and I headed off to work. Got home to find the ladder to the roof had been placed right behind a precious and beloved azalea — which I had showed them! —that was about to bloom. The azalea was now just a trampled mess of sticks and leaves. They’d placed the ladder right where their big builders’ boots would step off it, directly onto my lovely plant. (Hold a grudge still? Me? LOL )

    Reply
  96. Yes, Quantum, Seducing Mr. Sykes. I had the hero live in the Red House, which I’d like to visit again! My heroine couldn’t resist either. 😉 The cottage we rented on that trip had snowdrops everywhere. So lovely.

    Reply
  97. Yes, Quantum, Seducing Mr. Sykes. I had the hero live in the Red House, which I’d like to visit again! My heroine couldn’t resist either. 😉 The cottage we rented on that trip had snowdrops everywhere. So lovely.

    Reply
  98. Yes, Quantum, Seducing Mr. Sykes. I had the hero live in the Red House, which I’d like to visit again! My heroine couldn’t resist either. 😉 The cottage we rented on that trip had snowdrops everywhere. So lovely.

    Reply
  99. Yes, Quantum, Seducing Mr. Sykes. I had the hero live in the Red House, which I’d like to visit again! My heroine couldn’t resist either. 😉 The cottage we rented on that trip had snowdrops everywhere. So lovely.

    Reply
  100. Yes, Quantum, Seducing Mr. Sykes. I had the hero live in the Red House, which I’d like to visit again! My heroine couldn’t resist either. 😉 The cottage we rented on that trip had snowdrops everywhere. So lovely.

    Reply
  101. I’ve watched that too, along with the Italian and Paradise garden shows he’s done. I find him so soothing I can feel my blood pressure lowering, LOL. The British garden series is available on Acorn TV in the US, and covers garden innovations in the 17th, 18th, 19th and 20th centuries. It was produced in 2015 but I had not seen it before. Just fabulous, especially to watch it in winter!

    Reply
  102. I’ve watched that too, along with the Italian and Paradise garden shows he’s done. I find him so soothing I can feel my blood pressure lowering, LOL. The British garden series is available on Acorn TV in the US, and covers garden innovations in the 17th, 18th, 19th and 20th centuries. It was produced in 2015 but I had not seen it before. Just fabulous, especially to watch it in winter!

    Reply
  103. I’ve watched that too, along with the Italian and Paradise garden shows he’s done. I find him so soothing I can feel my blood pressure lowering, LOL. The British garden series is available on Acorn TV in the US, and covers garden innovations in the 17th, 18th, 19th and 20th centuries. It was produced in 2015 but I had not seen it before. Just fabulous, especially to watch it in winter!

    Reply
  104. I’ve watched that too, along with the Italian and Paradise garden shows he’s done. I find him so soothing I can feel my blood pressure lowering, LOL. The British garden series is available on Acorn TV in the US, and covers garden innovations in the 17th, 18th, 19th and 20th centuries. It was produced in 2015 but I had not seen it before. Just fabulous, especially to watch it in winter!

    Reply
  105. I’ve watched that too, along with the Italian and Paradise garden shows he’s done. I find him so soothing I can feel my blood pressure lowering, LOL. The British garden series is available on Acorn TV in the US, and covers garden innovations in the 17th, 18th, 19th and 20th centuries. It was produced in 2015 but I had not seen it before. Just fabulous, especially to watch it in winter!

    Reply
  106. I used to live on Red Lion Street in Holborn, and the garden there was locked at night – and rumoured to be the home of Oliver Cromwell’s ghost! We just used to climb the fence for night-time picnics!
    When I moved to Notting Hill (not long after the movie came out), there were always tourists searching for the places they filmed scenes.

    Reply
  107. I used to live on Red Lion Street in Holborn, and the garden there was locked at night – and rumoured to be the home of Oliver Cromwell’s ghost! We just used to climb the fence for night-time picnics!
    When I moved to Notting Hill (not long after the movie came out), there were always tourists searching for the places they filmed scenes.

    Reply
  108. I used to live on Red Lion Street in Holborn, and the garden there was locked at night – and rumoured to be the home of Oliver Cromwell’s ghost! We just used to climb the fence for night-time picnics!
    When I moved to Notting Hill (not long after the movie came out), there were always tourists searching for the places they filmed scenes.

    Reply
  109. I used to live on Red Lion Street in Holborn, and the garden there was locked at night – and rumoured to be the home of Oliver Cromwell’s ghost! We just used to climb the fence for night-time picnics!
    When I moved to Notting Hill (not long after the movie came out), there were always tourists searching for the places they filmed scenes.

    Reply
  110. I used to live on Red Lion Street in Holborn, and the garden there was locked at night – and rumoured to be the home of Oliver Cromwell’s ghost! We just used to climb the fence for night-time picnics!
    When I moved to Notting Hill (not long after the movie came out), there were always tourists searching for the places they filmed scenes.

    Reply

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