AWAY: Bayntun Flowers: Part I

Mind-blowing.

[ Post too long for email, click through for the full experience ]

There are just too many photos. I’ve taken so many, and there’s no way they will all fit into one post. So, instead, here is Part 1 of Polly Nicholson’s amazing garden.

Because I am so far behind my posting both for everyone and for my Paid Pals, this post is free for everyone to read and view. Become a paid subscriber to see the next chapters of this incredible garden!

I invited my new friend, Mini, to come along to Polly’s garden and, guys, if you ever get the chance to go on a road trip with Mini for goodness sake do it. We didn’t draw breath for the entire journey (which was long) and at several points I was so absorbed in our chat that I almost drove into the back of the car in front of me. Death by engrossing conversation. Not once did we need to default to one of the audiobooks / podcasts that I had lined up in case of awkward lulls in conversation.

Mini brought a flask of coffee and two mugs, Mini Eggs, and delicious dates for car snacks. She even brought milk for coffee in one of her daughters’ bottles. I brought Haribo Starmix and just one Diet Coke, for me…

This was my first time attending a garden opened through the National Garden Scheme and I didn’t really know what to expect, save that I had an idea that there might be a Victoria sponge involved. Happily, I was right.

For the uninitiated, the NGS is an extraordinary organisation through which gardens of every shape and size all across the country open their doors to the public. Have a look on the ‘Find a Garden’ map and you’ll see that in every nook and cranny of this garden-mad isle, people are carefully pruning, planting, baking, and sign-making in preparation for the hordes to descend.

Since reading Olivia Laing’s ‘The Garden Against Time: In Search of a Common Paradise’ I have wanted to open my garden. In the final chapters, Laing writes about opening the garden she has spent so long reviving through the NGS. Since then it has seemed to me to be a critical step in becoming a gardener - I garden for myself alone, but then I want to show off the finished product to anyone who is interested. And few of my pre-gardening friends are. Thus, the NGS.

I of course did not get my act together in time this year. But having seen how my London garden looks full of tulips, and with my ‘new’ fruity scheme, by then, entering it’s second year, I am certainly inclined to try next year. Watch this space.

An open garden would seem to me to bring together all that is good about this little isle. I’m no nationalist, and certainly post-Brexit and the rise of Reform UK never felt inclined to patriotism, but around the globe the English garden is recognised for it’s style and form, and the English gardener its organic extension. The NGS brings together all those who love flowers, weak tea, Victoria sponge, and a nosey around other peoples’ property. The best of British.

That said, of course, there are many who travel to England especially for the NGS season. It is a wonderful way to see behind the high walls of private gardens and to catch a glimpse of those grounds so often hidden from prying eyes.

As soon as we walked turned on to Polly’s driveway, I was captivated. Everywhere - everywhere - were the most exquisite tulips. Planted in the grass, in troughs, pots and planters, and when we turned into the garden itself, put together into the most exquisite seasonal, floral displays. I particularly like this cabbage-y green ranunculus. I’ve tried to track it down, but the closest I could find was Ranunculus ‘Pon Pon Igloo’…. The hunt for corms continues.

And then, of course, almost as soon as we entered, there were the historic tulip bulbs. Polly holds the national collection, and goodness me they are exquisite. They had been arranged in what looked like an old, defenestrated cold frame. No wonder the Dutch went potty for them. I did, too. To learn all about them, buy Polly’s book ‘The Tulip Garden’ if you haven’t already.

Being with Mini, we of course had to stop at the tea table before we went through the garden. Mini chose slices of the incredible chocolate cake which reminded me intensely of the chocolate cake my grandmother used to make. The atmosphere was jovial, and - despite being the youngest people there by 20 years - we felt welcomed in. I would have enjoyed my door-stop sized slice of cake more had I not been antsing to get into the garden, and to photograph every inch of the place. Poor Mini. This is why I largely go on garden visits alone - I want to look at, and obsessively document, every single bloom for 20 mins. My eyes were darting around like a madwoman’s, 'oh look’ my constant refrain.

Once I had scoffed my cake (and Mini had sensibly and fastidiously wrapped most of hers in a napkin ‘for later’) we followed the crowd through the gate and into the most exquisite walled garden. And that is where we will pick up in part II!