If ever there was a Garden of Eden, then the RHS (Royal Horticultural Society) Garden at Wisley is a wonderful exemplar. In April, the garden is a feast for the eyes, with a riot of colours, spectacular blooms, and many enchanting orchids in the Glasshouse. It was a wondrous afternoon, the warmth of spring bursting through the blue sky, and birdsong playing nature's orchestra in the background. Here, a few images speak for themselves.
One of the most popular starters was the Meat Fruit, a mandarin orange casing containing chicken liver pate. The mandarin orange casing looked almost like the real thing, although it was made of mandarin jelly. The liver pate was rich beyond imagination, the sort of food that would give you gout.... 
The roads were surprisingly free of traffic on a bank holiday Monday, and there were a lot less foot traffic passing the doors of some historical places.
Goodwood House, still in private hands and lived in by the Marches, appeared austere from the front, although the flint stones were beautifully set; once inside, the opulence and the aristocratic luxury was breathtaking: the magnificent collection of mainly 17th century paintings and portraits, the priceless Gobelin tapestries commissioned by Louis XV, the Sevres porcelain depicting exotic birds made exclusively to order, and some exquisite French furniture. All the wealth came from the first and second Dukes of Richmond, who accumulated a fortune by the tax levied on sea coal that was shipped via Newcastle, without ever spilling a drop of sweat.
Once the home of Thomas Cranmer, Knole was surrendered to Henry VIII who took a shine to this sprawling mass of sombre greyness. Even on a bright early summer day, the blue sky and the emerald grass could not hide the severity of the Kentish ragstones. Much has been written about the Sackville family who has owned this place since the 17th century -the thirteen staterooms opened to the public displayed an endlessly tedious array of medieval (painted) mugshots of the Sackvilles, mixed with portraits of kings, princes, and movers and shakers of the day. Inside the house, the greyness was further heightened by the almost jet-black oak panels, giving the place an uneasy sense of foreboding.
A grand house with a superb collection of paintings, including the works of JWM Turner, Petworth House offers a unique combination of fine English architecture and impressive gardens. As you look into the woodland garden at the back of the house, you see the man made lake shimmering in the summer sunlight, and the country side at its most tempting. Outside, the bright and brilliant blue sky beckons....
Right underneath the flight path approaching Heathrow Airport lies Osterley House and Park, a Tudor mansion restyled as a neo-classical villa by no less than Robert Adams, master of Palladian architecture. On a hot summer day, the grounds were mostly packed with families from the Indian subcontinent, who came laden with all manners of food, drink and collateral for the extended family.
Had lunch at the Aviator Hotel, Farnborough, and was captivated by the shell of the building and the statement staircase.
The Clore Gallery at Tate Britain, home to the Turner Bequest, always has a special place in my heart. It was here that I first encountered the brilliance and genius of JWM Turner. I fell in love with his paintings immediately. Today, the Turners are still as soul stirring, atmospheric and romantic, but Tate Britain seemed to have turned threadbare compared to European heavyweights such as the Prado.
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| Turner's Snow Storm |
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| Turner's Heidelberg |
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View of Vauxhall from Millbank |
A fun and funky concept to sell frozen yoghurt: the decor was wacky, the lighting vibrant, and the young crew chosen for their looks. Their tag line is "You'll never forget your first Snog". How right they are. The yoghurt comes in three flavours: plain, tea and chocolate, and the toppings include fruit, seeds and nuts, and naughty bits like brownies, chocolate buttons, mochis. Yummy-licious. It was a perfect dessert on a Saturday evening, before fighting our way through the crowd to the theatre.
It's been over a year since we last went to Launceston Place for one of those long, lazy Sunday lunches. This one star Michelin restaurant, tucked away behind the busy streets of High Street Kensington, still does not disappoint: succulent scallops, melt-in-the-mouth apple tart, and crisp service. In this part of W8, the carefully tended townhouses sport some spectacular cherry blossoms, twigs fully laden with an abudance of pink and white flowers.
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| Cherry blossoms etched against a beautiful blue sky, so blue, so dreamy |
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| Irises, my favourite flower, in the garden of Christ Church, on Victoria Road W8 |
Spring seemed to have gone into hiding today; it was as if the time had advanced to autumn, with the chill, the wind and the grey sky once again upon us. At Hyde Park, the early signs of spring bravely bore witness to the new season. I miss the blue sky and the warmth of the spring sun, signs that life has embarked on a new cycle....
A person slumped under a tree, seeking sanctuary from the passing foot traffic, noisy families, children on scooters; but he could not escape the nosy pigeons. Maybe he was sleeping from the previous night's excesses....
A glorious magnolia lines the footpath to Kensington. At this corner of Hyde Park, the area was ablaze with magnolias and camelias, and some people left their wristbands on the twigs, amongst the flowers, wishes that would perish with the fall of petals.
The Albert Memorial at the Kensington end of Hyde Park, a reminder that he was Queen Victoria's consort and as such made it into history. The gilded opulence and the over-the-top Victoria Gothic style spoke of an age when GB had an empire.
So many people - men and women - were buying flowers for Mothering Sunday tomorrow. Among the familiar pinks, whites and yellows are two exotic colours that no one seems to have touched.
Once, when I lived in the north, across the trans Pennine M62, lies Manchester, a wet, grey and grimy city. Almost ten years later, passing this city, the railway stations struck me as bright, clean, and modern. Perhaps I saw the city with a different pair of lens, or perhaps the public places have been spruced up?
Even the venerable institution British Library has caught up with SMS in one of its billboards on an evolving language.... It is inevitable that one day electronic reading devices will dominate. But for now, the building along Euston Road, London remains a sanctuary for free knowledge.
