Day Three - England: Coronaries and Xanadu

First, you wake up realizing that you've already spent 1/7th of your vacation.  Now, the trade off would be that you've gotten 1/7th worth of your total vacation's enjoyment at this point.  We decided that we were way ahead.

This day was Peter's work day.  Did I mention that Peter is a loan shark?  But let's set the record straight.  He's not one of those knee-breaking, knuckle-crunchers that Americans envision.  In fact, one of his loan collectors was an 80-year old granny who used to drive to clients' homes and collect the weekly payments.  (She later went on to take a job with the National Trust as a stately homes policeman). 

Peter is more like your friendly neighborhood moneylender who lends money to people who wouldn't get diddly squat from a bank.  It's a bona fide business and his clients love him and are quite happy to pay his interest rates.  In fact, one client loves him so much he always gives Peter a bag of candy along with his payment.  Which is then (candy not payment) passed on to Pauline, the village postmistress, because Pauline likes that candy and Peter does not.  Which, Peter shouldn't even be *eating* candy, but I digress.

Anyway - Peter's work day so Draw and I set off on our own.  We decided to visit more gardens - ones we hadn't seen yet.

The day before, on our trip into town, we stopped at Waterstone's in search of a book for one of Draw's coworkers (Come on.  You mean to tell me that you can't find the book on Amazon for half the price?) and ended up buying a couple of touring books of the Cotswolds and a big fat book of all the gardens we absolutely need to see before we kick the bucket.

The day was glorious so it was perfect for looking at a couple of those need-to-see gardens.

First stop; Wakehurst.

I would dub Wakehurst as more an arboretum than a garden.  The place was freaking huge - almost gave me a heart attack, and all the while we were wandering I was thinking that my epitaph would read "She saw 1/2 of one of the thousand and one gardens she was supposed to see".

We definitely scratched Wakehurst off our list of recommended gardens for Draw's parents.  The Drawbridge's like gardens that have lots of little resting places in between the sights.  It was clear to me that Wakehurst was for the hardy few who never thought to liberally pepper their meanderings with quiet moments of reflection on a comfortable bench.

(Not a lot of these at Wakehurst)

I snapped a few photos as did Draw (www.phillipdrawbridge.com), we (I) stumbled back to the gift shop/tea room, had a bite to eat and took stock of our (my) condition and whether or not we (I) were physically able to walk to the car and drive to Nyman's - garden number two of the 1001 gardens we needed to see before we (I) croaked.

Wakehurst view that reminds me of a Monet painting...

I'm glad Draw twisted my arm as Nyman's was absolutely wonderful.

It started with the tea room.  Not a traditional-style but more like a garden restaurant that offered al fresco dining.  The menu was right up my alley: steaming bowl of asparagus and stilton soup, a chunk of crusty bread, a lovely lavender & shortbread cookie and some bubbly gourmet soda seasoned with ginger.  Let's not talk price of the meal - let's just savor the moment of the sun beating down on our shoulders and the smell of asparagus and stilton wafting through the soft breeze.

Portions of the garden were still being planted but there was an air about Nyman's that made it rather magical for me.  I loved the topiaries and the wild flowers.  I loved the different garden "rooms".  I loved the kind of shabby chic feel to the place even thought I hate the term "shabby chic".

There is a house on the grounds and part of it is open to the public.  Because it's owned by the National Trust it's teeming with old people who follow you around like your maiden aunt or granny making sure you don't snap any photos or touch any of the knicknacks.

There is only one entrance into the house which is at the side.  The front door was being guarded by a snoring elderly gentleman.  We were snapping photos of the courtyard for a good 15 minutes with the guard never so much as moving.  At one point I did wonder if he was even alive.  But then we heard a snort and, relieved, went back to snapping photos.

At the side entrance, the octagenarian bouncer who greeted us at the door "suggested" that Draw remove his "rucksack" so's not to demolish anything as, clearly, Draw was capable of running through the house like a bull in a china shop.  Draw was, rightly so, annoyed but complied since he's English.  We dedicated a good minute to each of the three rooms that were open for display, and left.

By this time, the snoring guard was waking up.  I asked if he'd had a good nap and he nodded, got up and wandered off.

The best part of Nyman's was the part we saw when we walked to the side entrance of the home to go inside. 

It was like something out of Xanadu.

In the early 40's (19 not 18) a portion of the house burned.  Apparently, the family who owned the home decided not to repair it, moved out and bequeathed it to the National Trust.  Absolutely makes sense to me.

Kudos to the National Trust for being such skinflints and not having the house repaired.  The burned part of this old home is absolutely the best part.

I snapped scores of photos hoping that just a few would be in focus.  I held my breath so much while shooting, I thought I'd pass out. 

We walked around the house and gardens for a good hour or two, attempting to find the one spot of the burned out shell that was, perhaps, guarded by another snoring guard.  But to no avail.  Even at that, it was a wonderful garden with two thumbs up and a hearty recommendation to Draw's parents whom had never visited but had thought to.

The day ended with the traditional fish and chips (correction: CHIPS and fish) from a take out in Paddock Wood, and me revelling in the knowledge that I could cross off two whole gardens from that list of 1001 and I lived to tell the tale.

Day Four soon...

Comments

[Draw]

I did actually mention to the relic of a guard that I would probably do more damage if I carried my bag by my side. I wonder if I had walked in carrying it, if he would have asked me to put it on. Maybe I should have handed it to him and asked him to follow us. But anyway, it does keep the old biddies off the streets.

Lovely post baby. Keep them coming since I feel I'm still on vacation.