The Newt in Somerset, April 2023 – twice

Tags

Arthur Cole, bee skep, cowslip, dog;s mercury, fallow deer, Hadspen House, hoop petticoat daffodil, Roman Villa, Snakes' head fritillary, Sweet Track, The Newt in Somerset, thrush, Turkish tulip, violet

Ten days or so ago, I took my friend Helen for her first visit to The Newt in Somerset. As ever, I took lots of photos, but I have posted on the subject many times before (search on ‘Newt’) so here are just a selected few taken on that occasion, followed by more on yesterday’s visit.

Helen particularly hoped to see deer. We did.

The Roman Villa from the dovecot. Just see those rows of vines, the pattern of which may be explained later in this post, though I didn’t know it at the time.

Violets,

cowslips, and

dog’s mercury, which I learnt on this visit.

The earliest of apple blossom

Another new plant on me, Hoop petticoat daffodils – thank you Candide app. And I have been thrilled to be reminded, on reviewing my Morocco posts just this morning, that we saw white ones in that country!

Does anyone not love snakeshead fritillaries?

Helen walks The Newt’s tribute to the Sweet Track

My most recent visit, yesterday, was very different, a dawn walk. This meant getting up at 5.00 a.m. When I left home, with just a small glass of orange juice inside me, my car told me it was 6.5 degrees C. When I got to the Newt, it said 4 degrees. On the way, I had been driving almost eastwards for most of the time, and had been enjoying pre-dawn skies, with their pink, pale blue, and mauve hues, frustrated that the roads did not permit me to stop and take photos. (Get a dash-cam for the purpose I have since been advised!). By the time I got to the car park, the sun was just over the horizon.

I made my way to the Cyder Bar, and saw a few people there. The coffee-making machinery was covered, but there was a man behind the bar and about four other people assembled. I called out as I approached, with not much hope, ‘Are you selling coffee?’ Arthur, who turned out to be our leader, replied, ‘Not selling it’. But he was preparing cafetieres of said beverage for all his clients, of whom there would be eight, including me. Two were guests at the hotel, Hadspen House.

While we took our coffee I was delighted to see a thrush on the lawn nearby. Difficult to see at this angle, but I think it’s a song thrush

Arthur Cole*, Head of Programmes, turned out to be a man who knew everything about everything, all things vegetation, gardening, geology, history, everything. And incredibly enthusiastic about all those everythings. You couldn’t ask for a better guide. He took us first to the marl pits area. I wish I could remember even a tenth of what he told us during the couple of hours we were with him.

*(I confess to just having found this hour-long programme, but I shall be watching it soonest.)

Bee skeps, not a couple of hundred years old but created in 2018

The original, Turkish, tulips, from which all others have come. They would open more during the day.

I had never noticed these fossils before. They had been on the sea-bed, in tropical seas near the equator, a couple of hundred years previously.

Arthur checks out that we understand why brick was used on the 17th century south-facing Parabola wall. It is because it holds the heat longer than the stone facing on the other side of the wall.

The Newt holds the National Collection of Apples by County.

This label says: Malus domesticus, ‘Beauty of Bath’, SOMERSET. I wonder why he stopped us there…

Privet flowers are one of the most dangerous to those suffering from hay fever. The smaller the flower, the worse the effect apparently.

‘Mary, Mary, quite contrary, how does your garden grow?’ ‘With silver bells, and cockle shells, and pretty maids all in a row.’ And where is one of our major cockle-producing areas? In Morecambe Bay in Lancashire, calling to mind the disaster of 2004.

In the kitchen garden, tulips replace temporarily the brassicas grown until very recently in these beds, while they await their new edible crop.

That lovely low sunlight

From the kitchen garden

Arthur invites us to pick a flower of the plant I know as Water hawthorn, Aponogeton distachyos. Interesting, and not unpleasant taste, but one rather to be acquired.

In another pond, Great crested newts, which as I understand it, delayed the development of the property for a year or so, so protected are they. And thus the name of the attraction. I’d never seen one before – but then I’d never looked for them in these ponds.

The battery in my camera gave out, and I only thought to get my phone out – I rarely use it for photos – a while later. We were led to a parkland area not usually accessible to day visitors. We stood on the grass helipad, erstwhile rounders pitch for staff as they developed the land in the second decade of this century.

Here are the young orchards, destined to provide The Newt with its cider, sorry cyder, and apple juice in years to come, but not yet ready. Arthur told us the rows had been carefully lined up to provide aesthetically pleasing vistas from a distance, which I had certainly noticed when walking to and from the Roman Villa.

The nearest goose was particularly vocal as he menaced us. At least one of its friends is brooding an egg, as can be seen.

Don’t have bright idea, you may be stuck with it. One year someone had an idea in connection with Apple Day to carve the outline of apples in the bank. The founder liked it – and now it must remain.

Back through the kitchen garden, with Hadspen House at the end.

A familiar view of the Parabola from the Garden Café – where our visit ended with a copious and delicious breakfast – but never before seen by me under this early morning light.

It was 10 o’clock when I left, and it was already getting busy, on this the penultimate day of the Easter holidays.

Another very familiar view, of the way back to the car park, but so unfamiliar with the sun full on it from behind me.

The Newt in Somerset is ever being added to. We were informed that there is another exciting development to open in the coming months, which will increase in attractiveness over the years. I can’t wait!

The Newt in Somerset, Roman Villa – August 2022

Tags

dovecot, gourd, Hadspen House, Karen Roos, Koos Bekker, Roman Villa, The Farmyard, The Newt in Somerset, Villa Ventorum, Wyvern

Time for another visit to The Newt in Somerset. I’d done the Cyder [sic] Tour there a month previous, and had come away with samples. I’d then taken the opportunity to walk down to have a quick look at the exterior of the new Roman Villa Experience (they’re all ‘experiences’ these days, aren’t they?) and back along a vast new area that the enterprise had opened up.

A few days ago, I met Mary off her – delayed – train at Castle Cary station. Arrived at The Newt, we started with the obligatory coffee, and did a bit of setting the world to rights – it’s a big job these days.

This merged seamlessly into lunch.

We were booked in to the Roman Villa for 3p.m., so set off an hour earlier to make our way there via the newly opened area. This involved setting off from the pergola and its many different members of the gourd family.

Going ‘the long way round’ it was about a mile to the Villa, but there was plenty to entertain us on the way, including The Grotto with its Wyvern. The difference between a dragon and a wyvern?

First of all, dragons have four legs, while wyverns have only two. Their front legs are fused to their wings, so they cannot move their wings as easily as dragons. Dragons are also a lot larger than wyverns, and they are believed to be the most powerful creatures in the world. Indeed, it’s very impressive: dragons are very hard to kill and, unless they are killed, they will live for thousands of years.

Still, wyverns, who are considered to be one of the breeds of dragons, can’t be called harmless in any way. Though smaller, easier to attack, and with fewer powers, wyverns can move around a lot faster than dragons, thus making them a big advantage. So, you can never underestimate a wyvern: due to the fact that it’s so swift, it might attack and kill even more efficiently and effectively than a dragon.

When I’d visited in July I had heeded the advice below. I really am too literal-minded – children were actually being encouraged to be disobedient, when they would have had a flaming surprise!

Sadly, by the time of this visit, the Wyvern had no head – some children had been too violent. Safety, electric wires and all that, had led the management to remove it entirely. (It is to be replaced.) But here’s a picture I had taken of it on my previous visit.

We moved on, and were amused by these parallel sheep, all moving towards our right.

Even on my first visit to The Newt, in January 2020, I had seen, in the inaccessible distance and from another angle, what looked like a dovecot. Now we were able not only to approach it but to go inside.

Through the, evidently unglazed, windows, were several views, including this one of the Roman Villa for which we were heading.

Reception and the museum

The Newt’s website said to allow 90 to 120 minutes for the tour of museum and villa. Reception said not to linger too long in the former, as the house alone would need at least an hour to be appreciated. We only had two hours before they would close – and we had ordered Roman food for the end.

We were issued with GPS-guided headphones. In the museum, one pressed a lit ring by an exhibit to learn more. In the house, commentary was stimulated by proximity to any given area. I love audioguides – but there is a huge disadvantage in that you have to rely on your memory a few days later … So there are many lacunas now …

The reconstructed Roman villa is by the site of a real one, burnt down in the 4th century, and first re-discovered in the 19th. Part of it is incorporated into the museum and part of it has been returned to the ground.

More historical information is here and here. The latest archaeological excavations took place after Koos Bekker, the South African billionaire owner of The Newt in Somerset, had acquired the property in 2013.

I was frustrated not to be able to tell which exhibits were originals and which reproductions. (But these surely were all the latter.) Only on examining some of my pictures have I realised – I think – that there were symbols by the captions which would have told me. (Next time – which is soon.)

The villa, seen from the museum

This was the spa/bathing area.

These light fittings are made up of small shards found on the site.

From the games exhibits

Part of the food and cooking exhibit

More time would have allowed a more in depth perusal of the exhibits, (and outside the holidays would have perhaps avoided some rather noisy children, but they were having enormous fun). We moved on to the villa, through vineyard and orchard.

We were welcomed to the ‘Villa Ventorum’ by Diana, in Roman dress. She explained that this room is the furthest most visitors would have been allowed, a place where business transactions would have taken place. From then on our visit was led by the audioguides.

They told us the route to take. There were no stewards, no barriers, no ‘do not touch’s (though our headphone commentary made that polite request) and no – conspicuous anyway – CCTV. And I should mention that the visit is entirely free once entry to The Newt is paid, either by annual membership, or as a guest of a member.

I wondered whether a 21st century person had modelled for this portrait. Indeed, could it be Karen Roos, joint owner of The Newt?

Recognisably the British Isles, though Scotland’s round the bend.

No detail has been missed in the development. The Villa has only been open to the public for a couple of months. My assumption would be therefore that this scorched effect has been added artificially.

We met this cheery fellow in the peaceful rear garden.

A child’s bedroom, and a child’s collection

Parents’ bedroom, and parents’ jewellery

The ‘bibliotheca’ was always in a mess, we were told through our headphones.

The route from Villa Ventorum to London and beyond

Next, to the linked music and entertaining rooms

I cannot imagine how one could eat recumbent, propped up on one arm.

Round to the front of the villa again, and down to the lower courtyard to be served our Roman street food.

This young man told us that the stall was totally authentic, apart from the stainless steel serving pots. We each had what could be described in modern terms as a vegetarian wrap – containing broad beans, asparagus, coriander and a few other lovely things – delicious. I had cider with mine and Mary a sort of cold mulled red wine, the name of which I couldn’t retain.

View from the room in which we ate

We walked back the direct way to the hub of The Newt, still about a kilometre, wondering whether we would see any of the deer.

We certainly did, and they seemed, untypically, to be herded to an area which was inaccessible to the public (possibly because the rutting season is coming up?).

I had never seen so many of them together.

This beech tree fell during Storm Eunice on 18th February this year. As the panel beside it says, it is being left there to become a home for fungi, beetles, and bugs, and, in due course, to become compost. Such shallow roots for such a tall tree!

We had some time before Mary’s train back to London, and, since all refreshment facilities had by now closed, we sat for a short while on a conveniently placed bench, with Newt Lake and the young apple orchards ahead of us, and Hadspen House, the Long Walk and the kitchen garden at 2 o’clock.

In due course we made our way back to the car park.

Just yesterday, when a friend called to offer me some plums from her garden, I was telling her about the Villa. We have arranged to go together in about a month’s time, when I will hope to fill in some of those lacunas, and indeed to observe more.

Footnote: Never – £500, £600, £700 and rising per night! – will I be in a position to take photographs of those parts of The Newt reserved to guests in its hotels, Hadspen House and The Farmyard. But here is a short article by those involved in the interior design, which will show a little of how the Other Half lives!

The Newt in Somerset – October 2021

Tags

curcurbit, fallow deer, Hadspen House, Shaggy Inkcap, Southwest Early Music Forum, The Newt in Somerset

A couple of weeks ago, I took another friend to visit The Newt in Somerset. Peter was down from Manchester to lead a singing workshop, which I was organising for the South West Early Music Forum the following day. Three times postponed because of you-know-what, initially from April 2020, but that’s a whole other story.

Apples are always the principal theme at The Newt, but especially so at this time of year, as the display in the Threshing Barn illustrated.

They featured in the window of the farm shop as well. Their apple juice is delicious.

(Given that I have already posted so many pictures taken at The Newt in Somerset, I have limited the number posted here.)

We learned that the Japanese Garden would be opening a week later.

Next we walked up the Mound, where we saw a few Shaggy Inkcaps.

The Cottage Garden

Still plenty of colour, though we’re well into the autumn.

Peter noticed the curious ‘steps’ in the chimney stack.

Into the Scented Garden.

The mischievous frogs were disappointed that there were no small children around to squirt water at, though clearly some adults have been by, setting off the sensors.

Access to the (very) luxury hotel, Hadspen House, is prevented by the gate out of sight below this image. Actually they’ve just opened another luxury hotel, called The Farmyard, adjacent.

The Kitchen Garden

We were impressed by the great variety of cucurbits growing in their tunnel. Over the year, I have seen these grow from tiny unidentifiable plants, into large flowering ones, and now fruiting ones.

I wonder if the tunnel will be used for the same purpose next year, or for something different.

Inside The Parabola, the main feature of which is hundreds of varieties of apple trees.

After an excellent meal in the Garden Café, we walked though the Deer Park.

As ever, the walkway’s supports look as if they are suspended in mid-air, but in fact they are very firmly attached to the ground. I love walking up there among the trees but that is not to everyone’s inclination.

At the far end of the deer park is this ancient stile, blocked off now to visitors. The hole may perhaps be for a foot, since it is too small to allow anything larger than a hedgehog through.

Walking back through the woodland, we did get a fleeting glimpse of a couple of fallow deer. This is the best I could do, photo-wise.

Back to the entrance/exit via the old Marl Pits.

Another happy visit to The Newt in Somerset. We had to leave – we had things to do relating to the following day, written up here for those interested.

Cousins’ meet-up in Somerset

Tags

Charlemagne, Covid, Eden Project, Hadspen House, Tesremosnitweneht, The Newt in Somerset, The Story of Gardening

The Newt in Somerset, to be precise. I hadn’t seen my cousin Mary, who lives in Croydon, for several years, so her love of gardens and gardening, along with the fact that I had a garment to hand over that I had knitted for her, gave the perfect pretext for us to get together last Friday, 20th August, in one of my favourite local places.

South West Trains brought her in perfectly on time to Templecombe Station, which is about 15 minutes’ drive from The Newt (also served by GWR to Castle Cary, just five minutes’ away). We started with the obligatory coffee, bought from the Cyder Bar, and studied the plan of the grounds.

By then, we had just 30 minutes or so before our lunch reservation at the Garden Café, and Mary opted to visit The Parabola, which features hundreds of varieties of apples, and I suggested that the kitchen garden would nicely fill the rest of the time.

(I covet Mary’s bag, which she told me she found in a charity shop.)

Not only apples are grown in The Parabola, so named for its shape.

To get to the kitchen garden, you go past the huge wildflower area,

and through a tunnel, which I’ve seen develop from not there, to there but plantless, to supporting small nameless plants,

to producing many different varieties of gourds.

The kitchen garden goes in for a lot of companion planting.

The view from our lunch table, showing well the parabolic shape

It was time to make our way to The Story of Gardening. No time to wait for this deer to lift its head.

We could have just walked down the slope to the entrance, but instead went the slightly longer way round on the slightly vibrating walkway,

from which we saw these deer.

I think this selection of photographs does not too much replicate the visit I made with my friend Mary four weeks previously!

We are not holding mobile phones, but the gadget with its white aerial, which knew exactly where we were and therefore which commentaries to offer us, and from which we could choose using the little shovel-shaped labels.

Interactive panels about famous gardeners abounded. Who knew that Charlemagne was among them?

Mary was very envious of the Victorians for their greenhouses.

I have a booking for the Eden Project in three weeks’ time.

Four weeks ago, I assumed that these smell horns would not (because of Covid) be working. This time they certainly were.

On the long Tool Wall, I was attracted to these many balls of string, all apparently made by the same company.

It was time to move back to real plants, mainly flowers, once we had visited the cactus house.

The Cottage Garden

The Victorian Fragrance Garden

Mary pointed out toxic Monk’s Hood to me.

Part of the White Garden, near to the Red and Blue Gardens

The beginning of The Cascade

Hadspen House, now a luxury hotel

The view from the same spot 180 degrees round. The far pool retains its historic name of the Bathing Pool, though I think paddling would be all it enables, now anyway.

The Fowl House, within the Lower Egg

Back through The Parabola,

where Mary got the joke before I did.

After a visit to the farm shop, where we bought freshly ground coffee, and bottles of the pink cyder of which we had been given small samples at lunch, we made our way to the Cyder Bar, where we enjoyed glasses of The Newt’s delicious chilled fresh lemonade.

A final look round the tropical greenhouse, and it was time to take Mary to my place, from where her brother (a third first cousin – I only have five! – met within 11 days!) picked her up from her to spend the night of his and his partner’s house.

The Newt in Somerset – July 2021 (2) The Story of Gardening

Tags

Hadspen House, Penelope Hobhouse, The Newt in Somerset, The Story of Gardening

The celebrated garden writer and designer, Penelope Hobhouse, (b. 1929), at one time married into the family and having had a great influence on the restoration of Hadspen House’s gardens in the 1960s, wrote a book called ‘The Story of Gardening‘. Was it in tribute to her, in ignorance, or for some other reason that the museum in the grounds of what is now called The Newt in Somerset bears the same name?

Last Friday, my friend Mary and I, as part of our visit to The Newt (see previous post), spent the best part of an hour looking round this museum. Its external setting is well described here. Inside it consists, on the left-hand side, of a long, very wide corridor, with a wall of tools and including central island exhibits, and on the right-hand side a series of nine rooms, with a further, much narrower corridor, fully glazed, beyond them on the right, so that you have access to the rooms from both sides.

When you arrive you are given an audioguide, for one ear only. It works on the same principle as a satnav/GPS system, except that it’s a Building Positioning System. It knows where you are and offers you various options to learn more, relevant to that very point, referenced by the little numbered trowel indicators that are discreetly everywhere. If you listened to all of them you’d be there for hours, and I fully intend to do just that (well, perhaps not all of them) before too long.

Here are some of the pictures I took, in order. You start in the entrance hall, and we missed the commentary on the short initial film because we hadn’t quite twigged at the very outset, despite being told by reception, how the audioguide worked.

The first room is behind the green ‘hedge’

The first island is about various soils.

There were inserts like this outside every room

The (his)story started with classical times,

and moved through the time and geography.

This island was about scent. In normal times you would put your nose up to the cone, and squeeze the puffer. I didn’t try it, and my assumption in any case was that it would not be in operation in present circumstances.

This island was about animals.

Great gardeners were celebrated.

This island, the theme of which was ‘colour’ was a real curiosity. This is roughly how the human eye saw it, all the time.

But as I was taking my eye away from the viewfinder of my camera, which showed the picture I had just taken, I noticed that the image captured was this:

So I took another…

And another…

Only on my fourth essay did my camera faithfully reflect what my eye saw, and shown first here. I expect there’s some scientific explanation about white light being made up of the spectrum of colours, but I’m intrigued.

The last area in the museum concerned modern gardens and gardening, and featured what is going on in Singapore a lot.

It was time to return to the entrance, taking the long, wide corridor, passing its islands on the left this time.

I shall return – and spend a lot more time there!

The Newt in Somerset – July 2021 (1)

Tags

Hadspen House, Hobhouse, roe deer, Story of Gardening, The Newt in Somerset

It is nearly two years since my London friend, Mary, and I tried to visit The Newt in Somerset together, but in August 2019 the weather was so awful that we diverted to the Haynes International Motor Museum nearby instead. And, as I vaguely recall, that itself had been a second attempt. Then of course along came you-know-what.

Last Friday was the first time I had seen Mary since February 2018, when, given the time of year, our estate visit had been to see the daffodils of Stourhead, (National Trust). So at last we made it to the Newt last Friday.

The timing of Mary’s train was such that we had only time to check in and brush up before the very early lunch I had had to book, all later times having been taken. As we stood on the terrace of the Garden Café,

we noticed a helicopter parked in the field.

(Clip from previous photo)

My guess is that this belonged to a guest at the very up-market hotel that is now Hadspen House, former seat of the Hobhouse family. Or possibly the billionaire South African recent purchaser of the estate, who has turned it into the present attraction, was visiting.

Lunch was delicious. The cuisine is superb. This is just our starters – Mary has yet to pour the cucumber soup into her bowl.

It was a long time before we emerged and started to explore how The New expressed itself in July. As ever, I took an enormous number of photos, of which this is a small selection.

The Cottage Garden

The marigolds were blinding in real life.

Hadspen House, now a luxury hotel, in the background

We had a reservation for the recently opened ‘Story of Gardening’ for 2.40, so started making our way towards the deer park where it is situated. This involved going past this wildflower bank (and picnic area), which is very new. I had not seen it in flower before.

One of the entrances to The Parabola, home to hundreds of apple trees.

We were nearing the deer park, when I heard my name called from behind me. It was Daphne, my bridge partner, and her husband, Andy. I was thrilled to be able to introduce my friends to each other, and to stop for a short chat.

We did not take the high walkway through the trees to get to the museum entrance, but a short cut down the mound

Here is the other end of The Viper, as I now know the walkway is known, for its sinuous shape.

One side of the museum is glazed, the other set into the steep bank, so windowless.

The Story of Gardening needs a whole post to itself, so that will follow. Mary and I spent the best part of an hour there, and then made our way back to the entrance area.

En route we saw two roe deer. There are two herds of deer in the grounds, and it is a treat to see any of them. These two individuals were quite unperturbed to have visitors walking close by.

To think they grow and lose those antlers afresh each year!

A little sit down in a woodland area …

… was followed by a long sit-down over glasses of iced coffee as we continued putting the world to rights, (though perhaps a more accurate description might be marvelling at the stupidity of those whose task it is to do so). We heard a noisy noise. I leapt up to see:

The helicopter we had seen earlier had been joined by a second, but was leaving alone.

We had another 30 minutes or so before throwing out time. Mary wandered off at one point to take some more photographs, while I ventured into the greenhouse, which was also a coffee bar the first time I had visited, and then sat watching human and avian life go by.

What a lovely day!

The Newt in Somerset – October 2020

Tags

Hadspen House, The Newt in Somerset

It’s nice to do something special on a birthday, and it had been a while since I had been to The Newt in Somerset. Even booking eight days in advance, it had only been possible to get a table for lunch in the Garden Cafe for 2 o’clock, so I decided to get me and my camera to the gardens an hour earlier.

The car park was alarmingly full when I arrived. But it was a Saturday, with lovely bright sun, even if it was accompanied by a chill wind. (I put gloves on for the first time this autumn, but then I do feel the cold.) The familiar boardwalk up to the entrance had a distinct autumnal feel to it.

Once through the Threshing (= entrance) Barn, with the Cyder Bar to my right, I was again alarmed by the number of people, but I soon realised they were queuing (sort-of) to pick up their picnics. The Newt does not allow people to consume their own picnics there. It was interesting to see washed apples emerging from underground on a conveyor belt. I look forward to the day when it is possible to observe the full workings of ‘cyder’ production there.

The farm shop and coffee bar areas also looked quite busy.

But past there, as I walked into and around the Woodland area, there were few people.

The roof of Hadspen House, in the hands of the Hobhouse family from 1785 to 2013, and now a luxury hotel

Large ducks, hunkered down against the wind, and almost too bright in the sun for the camera.

Back from the Woodland, I took a new (for me) way into the cottage garden…

… of and from which I took the following and many more pictures.

Into the Victorian Fragrance Garden (not much going on here at this time) and the Cascade, the bottom of which attracts children young and old, even though they know they will have water squirted on their ankles, in this chilly weather, randomly by frogs of various sizes.

I didn’t join them, for more than one reason.

Instead I went down another way to the kitchen garden.

The parkland remains sadly inaccessible for now.

Now into the Parabola, an interesting, probably unique, designed orchard, and its literally hundreds of apple species. In the main, only crab-apples now remain on the trees.

Two o’clock approached, and I had a rendez-vous to meet with two friends who were joining me for a delicious lunch, served in impeccably Covid-sure conditions, in the Garden Café. All photography was forgotten from then on!

The Newt in Somerset – August 2020

Tags

Eat Out to Help Out, Hadspen House, Patrice Taravella, The Newt in Somerset

No, this is not a newt, nor a toad, but a small frog. It’s what greeted my bridge partner, Daphne, and me as we walked up the boardwalk to the entry of The Newt in Somerset a week back. We stood still until it had leapt off the side of the boardwalk, to spare it from the clomping feet of the people behind us.

Daphne and I, having met up in the car park, were planning to be very brave. We were going to take advantage of the August ‘Eat Out to Help Out’ scheme, (subsidised of course by the taxpayer, not the Chancellor of the Exchequer), and have a meal in the Garden Café of The Newt, this my fourth visit this year to the gardens. The bravery was that for both of us it was to be the first time that either of us had been nearer than two metres to anyone for more than a fleeting few seconds since lockdown (with the exception of her husband in Daphne’s case.) For me that last time had been breakfast in the Premier Inn at Gatwick Airport on my way back from Morocco, on 15th March.

It was very, very hot, and we had asked to sit outside in recognition of our nervousness. Sadly the area in the shade of the building was not being used as it was part of the café’s one-way exit system. So we got very hot indeed, as there was no shade. (I have suggested they provide table umbrellas in my review of an otherwise really excellent experience.)

They went out of their way to meet Daphne’s dietary needs, and we both very much enjoyed our meals, the ingredients of which were largely grown not far from where we sat. I particularly enjoyed the beetroot and dill butter which formed part of my starter, though it’s invidious to pick anything out.

Daphne, suffering from sciatica, was not in a position to go round the gardens afterwards, but she lives only a few minutes away so can visit any time she likes. We arranged to meet up in her own garden a little later, with another bridge friend.

Here is the view, left to right (a panoramic photo didn’t do it justice,) from the terrace on which we ate.

This edge to a step caught my eye as I left the café.

I walked round the Parabola with its countless varieties of apples.

And left the Parabola though this gateway.

Two visits ago this was a mass of tulips. Last visit it was bare soil.

I love grasses, whether informally placed or formally.

I now went into parts of the garden I had not previously explored.

Hadspen House, the luxury hotel, at the end.

I was too hot to wait for the visitor to leave the view, but am happy to include the lawn mower, who merges into the landscape much better.

Now I walked though the red, white and blue gardens. Or should I say blue, white and red, in a nod to the national flag of Patrice Taravella, the French designer of these gardens? What was his intention? Whichever, I don’t seem to have a representative set of pictures!

I wanted to visit the cottage garden before I left, and to do so had to skirt round this area clockwise, in order to avoid not only getting too close to the children, but also displeasing the stone frogs, large and small, who squirt water at the unsuspecting passer-by. I thought I had succeeded, but a tiny one got my left ankle. In that temperature, that was most welcome.

A look back at part of the Parabola and the Garden Café.

Past the Threshing Barn on the way out,

whose big window was too tempting. Explanation: there is a matching high window the other end, doors at either side, and waving strip lighting in the roof. All the rest is reflection.

Next visit perhaps in September…

“The Newt in Somerset” – January 2020

Tags

Cyder, Hadspen House, Hobhouse, Karen Roos, Koos Bekker, Museum of Gardening, Newt in Somerset, red deer, Stourhead, Tony Irons Cacti

Last November/October, when my friend Mary came down from London for the day, we had planned to visit The Newt in Somerset, but the weather was so appalling that we went to the Haynes International Motor Museum instead, and a fine time we had there too. This Sunday, the forecast being reasonable, I decided to try again, and take advantage of a promotion whereby I could get a year’s pass for the price of one entry.

Hadspen House (back history here, but not updated since 2007) was the home of the Hobhouse family from 1785 until recently. In 2013, South African billionaire, Koos Bekker and his wife Karen Roos bought the place, including its very extensive grounds, and reportedly spent £50 million pounds on refurbishing it. The complex now comprises a hotel (£350 B and B a night) the Gardens, a small farm, and a cyder (sic) plant. (The Newt’s website does not give the story of the conversion as such, but its The Press gives links to many articles, the most informative, in my view, being those of the Telegraph and the Financial Times. The other accounts seem destined more at those, including the international market, who might be interested in staying at the hotel.)

Having bought my ticket near the car park,

I was directed to the Threshing Barn for further information and the ticket’s conversion into ‘membership’. I saw a modern building, but am now confused as to whether this has just been modernised out of all recognition, or is indeed brand new. The same goes for some of the other buildings.

Looking back at Cyder Cellar, Cyder Bar, Threshing Barn, Shop

Coffee was the first requirement, being served in the Greenhouse, it being too chilly for the Cyder Bar to be open.

When I saw this, I was reminded of an idea I had had of putting together a bowl of cacti and succulents to go on my front and very sunny window ledge. I have realised that very thing today, with the help of a grower living near Bristol. I hope the tiny plants do not grow this big!

Over coffee I looked at the plan, and decided to look at the gardens, nearby, before lunch, then take a walk in the more extensive grounds afterwards.

But first a peek at the Mushroom room.

Began my stroll.

Cottage garden

Through to the Victorian Fragrance Garden

Apparently the squirts of water from fish to toad are set off by movement sensors. I didn’t know this, and nearly got a shower on my calf from a small toadlet on a stone by my left ankle as I moved off! So that’s what the blurb meant by, ‘be[ing] careful not to approach the Giant Toad and her children: they have vile tempers!’

Over to the Colour Garden, to be explored at a more colourful time

Hadspen House, via the Long Walk

The Kitchen Garden in January

Interesting to see Aponogeton (water hawthorn) in bloom. Mine hasn’t shown the slightest leaf yet.

And a water lily thinking about waking up.

There were many labels around the place, always in English, sometimes accompanied by translations into what seemed like random other languages.

Dog kennels turned chicken house

For all their splendour, tiny bantams both

The Garden Café, see through a corner of the Parabola, which contains most of the 500-odd apple varieties grown on the estate.

A few counties were set in stone. Good to see my own, Middlesex, which disappeared in the London government reorganisation of 1965.

Time for lunch. All the dishes, whether vegetarian or not, are named for one of the vegetables grown in the gardens. I had ‘Kale’.

And two kinds of bread and two kinds of butter

The view, through glass, from my seat. Far too cold to eat outside.

I finished with jasmine tea.

A heavy shower followed my lunch, and I thought I would soon be headed home, especially as every gate out to the parkland I had seen in the morning had been locked, and displayed a notice, ‘Parkland walks will be opening in the summer.’ But the rain stopped quickly and I found that a walk into the deer park, near the café, was open.

I soon came to this. Despite appearances to the contrary, the supports are firmly planted in the ground.

At the end of the walkway came this.

To begin with I thought, enviously, that it might be someone’s home. The building was on the plan, but without a label. A young employee emerged, so I asked him. It was the just-opened Museum of Gardening. And here was its door, just round the corner.

The young man asked if I’d seen the deer. I’d forgotten I might. He said I was unlikely now, as they would have departed way over there from their morning hangout near here.

The Museum is to be investigated another time. I went on.

The ball had hundreds of holes drilled, for bees I imagine.

Beyond here was a big gate, with some machinery beyond. I wasn’t sure that I was allowed, or indeed wanted to go on this time. A woman, of about my own age, was approaching from the other side. Did I want to come through? She could let me. I said I was not sure, was thinking of turning round at this point anyway. We chatted, as she clearly knew a lot about the estate. She also asked if I’d seen the deer. There were two herds, red and fallow, the latter very shy indeed. I was bold in my questioning, and found that she was a Hobhouse. My departing ‘Really lovely to have met you’ was heartfelt!

WAY over on the horizon is King Alfred’s Tower, part of the Stourhead estate.

Nearly back at the beginning of my walk, I saw this. On the way out I had assumed it was a bit of fencing due to be placed somewhere. But I now realised it was the top of the Museum of Gardening, a safety precaution!

Evidence I was in a deer park

I looked up, and was surprised to see these does springing up the bank.

They were joined by a buck.

And then by a big buck!

Who wanted me to see his antlers in all their glory!

I took a slightly different route, through some woodland, back to the courtyard.

The Marl Pit

The Cyder Cellar was not open, but I looked in.

The farm shop definitely was open, and I bought bread, tomatoes and beans.

I shall be returning before long, and plan to follow the gardens and grounds through the seasons. Next time I will get there by 10.30, so that I can do the Garden tour, and have some more questions answered. Another time I will do the Cyder tour.