A day for being a tourist! Our hosts insisted on loaning us their National Trust tickets and we drove to nearby Polesden Lacey. A country “house” as the aristocracy or monied people called it. The Queen Mother had her honeymoon there. But it’s really a mansion.

I feel quite ambivalent about the whole thing.  On the one hand I can appreciate the magnificence of the building and grounds. But I also abhor the human cost it took to build and maintain such a structure and lifestyle.

It’s a yellow mansion with wonderful views across the rolling Surrey Hills and acres of countryside around it.  Its most famous owner was at the turn of the twnetieth century and was a lady called Mrs Greville who was the illegitimate daughter of a distillery owner. She inherited great wealth, married into the right circles, and was a shrewd business woman who increased her wealth. She entertained royalty and celebrities and maharajahs on a grand scale. The thought occurred to me that she was working very, very hard to prove something to herself and her world. To be admired and accepted by the upper echelons.

I looked through a bit of the house. All to display wealth and thereby receive power. But it’s too much for me. And I went on a walk outside for a few hours. Looked through the rose garden that wasn’t very good. And then walked through the nearby woodlands and paddocks of the nearby tenanted farms. While I was doing that, Philip continued to look through the house and feast on all the history there. There’s never too much history for Philip to abosrb! So we both had a happy time.

Had a nice lunch in the cafe there.  Philip had his favourite of scones, jam and clotted cream.

Then we drove off to spend the afternoon at Wisley Gardens that’s run by the Royal Horticultural Scoeity since the late 1800s.

The biggest, most magnificent gardens I have ever seen. Or could even imagine! I could bore you silly with descriptions and photos! I didn’t get to see it all despite wandering around it for nearly two hours. All sorts of gardens. The most magnificent borders. Great swathes of colours, some of which I would never put together.Other drifts of flower colour palettes were highly original and inspiring.

 

Huge orchards of old and new fruit of all sorts.

Apples, pears,cherries,plums, soft fruits. Even found an old lichened mulberry tree that was dropping its fruit on the ground. So I helped to lighten its load.

Philip’s idea of fun in a garden was this! 

But I did manage to persuade him to look at the rose garden which was fabulous. 

I loved it all. It was so inspiring. A big majority of the plants I’ve never seen before. Most of this plantings would never work in Perth. So I just enjoyed it all, knowing there was not much I could practically use. Art for art’s sake!

When it was time to come home, GPS got sulky and refussed to work. Philip freaked out and thought we’d be stuck there at the gardens for ever. But I found in the car a 15 year old paper map that a friend had loaned me. And guess what? We found our way back to the house without mishap!

When we got back to the house, our hosts were quite concerned at the Heatwave that England has been having and were we utterly exhausted? England has been on Amber Alert. Well, it did get to 27 degrees today. And I wore my hat so I wouldn’t get sunburnt. Philip got a little warmer than me because he’s wearing thick jeans. He forgot to bring anything lighter. But it wasn’t exactly what I would call a Proper Heatwave!

In gratitude we took our hosts out for dinner that evening. To a wonderful old pub they knew and that we reached through narrow winding country lanes. Called The Drummond Arms. We sat outside in the garden and at the bottom of the garden was a little stream flowing by. We had another great meal.

But sitting there, I thought to myself, as I looked out at the huge overhanging trees and the little stream gurgling by, “It’s almost like a memory. That I’ve been here before.”  And I’m sure that it’s all those English books I’ve read down through the years. From Enid Blyton to Jane Austen.