A week’s enjoyment of a slight easing

Tags

Covid-19, European Movement, Lockdown, Museum of Gardening, Snakes' head fritillary, Star Magnolia, The Newt in Somerset

Firstly, a note for non-England* readers. Since early January we have been in lockdown, which has meant we have had to stay at home other than for: work, where it cannot be done from home; essential shopping; local exercise, by household/’bubble’, or with one person from one other household maximum; and medical appointments. From 8th March: the outdoors meet-ups as described could include sitting down for, say, coffee or a picnic; schools have been back (though are now on holiday); and those in care homes can receive one named visitor.

*For non-UK readers: Scotland, Northern Ireland and Wales all have their own regulations, but some English live in those countries, so I couldn’t write ‘non-English’.

As of last Monday, 29th March we have been able to meet up outdoors in groups of up to six (or more, as long as this only includes two households) and outdoor sport has been allowed. The definition of ‘local’ has now explicitly been left to discretion. I have had a happily rich week as a result of these small relaxations, (though some of the ‘activities’ would have been permissible earlier, including, obviously, those happening on Zoom.)

Much of last weekend was spent assembling four garden dining chairs, in time for Wednesday. Given that the instructions came entirely with illustrations, and no words, they were not too difficult to understand. The quality of the chairs was good, all the parts were there (with four Allen keys because the lot was of four chairs!), but assembly was very fiddly, and it took me a long time and some sore fingers.

Monday evening I attended a Zoom meeting of the local (Mendip) branch of the European Movement. These have been monthly for some while. Not much campaigning is possible at present, but it is good to be in touch.

It had been lovely weather all day, and a friend, Linda, had told me during an afternoon phone call that she and her husband had just been to The Newt In Somerset, and among other things had much enjoyed the Snakes’ head fritillaries (of which there is one stray in my garden!). On an impulse late that night, I ordered myself a picnic lunch from The Newt for the next day, and, once my organic fruit and veg box had arrived in the morning, I made my way there, not having visited since October.

As I start writing this, it is my intention to write one consolidated blog post for the entire week, but I have so many reasonably decent photos that this may not be possible. Anyway, here are some of those I took at The Newt.

Lesser celandine bank on the way to the entrance

The nearest I got to the farm shop was to one of its windows.

A path I had not taken before, near the mound

I picked up my pre-ordered lunch from the Cyder Bar, and moved to avoid the crowds around and at the tables nearby. I was pleased to see that there was plenty of empty seating in the Parabola, looking bare at present as its hundreds of apple trees are not yet in blossom.

The vegan spring vegetable pasty was divine. Really. I have never had pastry like it, and the copious filling, of which I could just identify the spinach, was delicious. I can really recommend the apple juice as well, a blend of James Grieve apples and another I can’t remember.

I did not linger, but moved on to an area that was inaccessible the last time I was there, next to the Garden Café.

It overlooks the Kitchen Garden. I wonder what is being developed beyond.

Then I went in search of the Snakes’ head fritillaries, which come in mauve,

white,

and in-between.

The app which holds my ticket to The Newt tells me that this is Star Magnolia.

Shut now for Covid reasons, this is normally a coffee bar.

I then went a bit mad taking photographs of reflections of trees in various watery areas.

An early bluebell

I can’t wait for the Museum of Gardening to be allowed to open. I’m told it’s good for a two-hour visit.

I strolled into the Deer Park, but sadly saw no deer, unlike Linda and her husband the day before, who saw both roe and fallow deer.

I had not been able to venture down this slope previously as it had been shut off as too muddy and dangerous. There is now an easy, sandy, gravelled pathway – I’m sure there’s a technical name for the substance.

Plenty of quirky seating.

Oops, another one.

I felt I deserved an ice cream after all that exercise.

I limited myself to one scoop of the lemon curd flavour, enjoying it on the way back to my car.

And on the way home took care to avoid this leaping horse. I’m sure that wasn’t there before the pandemic…

Hmm, I can see this is going to be a bit long. Part 2 will follow…

Happy Easter!

The Newt in Somerset – October

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

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, May, with a friend this time

Tags

bridge, Coronavirus, Covid-19, Haynes international motor museum, Morocco, Museum of Gardening, Social distancing, Sweet Track, The Newt in Somerset

I wasn’t planning to visit The Newt in Somerset again this month, but the meet-up rules had been relaxed, and I was due to pass over my previous camera to my bridge partner, Daphne. It had been she who had told me about The Newt when it opened in 2019, but my one planned visit there in August had been thwarted by bad weather (which led to my London friend Mary and I going to the nearby Haynes International Motor Museum instead).

Daphne and I had not seen each other since 5th March, the last bridge club meeting before my Morocco trip. Greeting each other with a socially distanced hug, we exchanged carrier bags via the boot of my car, and started up the entrance path.

The Newt is now charging again, but Daphne and I were already members, so we were able to bypass the ticket building to get in.

Near the top of the path to the ‘Threshing Barn’, it was sad to see that a magnificent beech tree was being removed. It was diseased on the inside apparently.

There is still a theoretical one-way system, and we were channelled through the barn.

Along withe the charges have been restored the gift shop, and the ability to buy beverages and ice-cream.

We partook of neither, and indeed our intention was to avoid the most frequented parts of the gardens. We turned off left therefore to the Marl Pit and the Marl Pit Copse.

I have just realised. This is built to the same design as the neolithic Sweet Track, dated very precisely by dendrochronology to 3807 BC, and situated perhaps 20 miles away on the Avalon Marshes/Somerset Levels.

On a day that was to become very hot indeed, it was wonderfully fresh, with the sunlight trickling down through the trees. I hadn’t explored this area on my two previous visits.

We continued into the deer park with no real expectation of seeing any deer, but we did just get a glimpse.

We went on to the walkway to Museum of Gardening, itself closed of course. In any case I’m told you must allow at least two hours to do the museum justice. It has a refreshment area to keep you going.

Looking down from the walkway…

… which Daphne is doing.

It sinews around.

From the museum, we walked to the end of the grounds of the Newt, though beyond is still part of the whole estate. I do not recall this dovecot (if that is what it is) beyond the boundary being there in January. It is built in the same style, stone and roofing as the rest of the new build at the Newt.

We ambled back. (Ambling is now allowed as ‘The Rules’ no longer require that you be outdoors only for essential shopping, and exercise.)

Until I saw this photo, taken, obviously, by Daphne, I thought my hair must need cutting.

The Kitchen garden, the almost invisible so-called Bathing Pond (that is apparently what it was used for, but not now), the Long Walk, and Hapsden House, now a luxury hotel.

Returned from the Deer Park, we ventured a little into the more crowded ‘pretty’ areas, but did not plunge in.

This was filled with tulips on my last visit, three weeks previously. I wonder what will be there on my next visit.

We stayed at the top…

… and walked along this people-less path …

… to the Cottage Garden.

Once through the arch I looked back

Finally there was the ‘Woodland Walks and Mound ‘ area, which I had not seen on previous visits.

I almost got my ducks in a row.

We climbed The Mound, of which I forgot to take a photo. It’s basically an upside-down pudding bowl with a gentle spiral path to get to the top.

But the top was a little crowded so we didn’t stay long.

It was time to go – once I had bought my Newt in Somerset cyder (sic) – leaving by the one way system exit, which meant passing the diseased beech on its other side. It had lost a few more branches, which were being removed one by one. No ‘Timber….!!!!’ was to follow i was told when I asked. It might have been worth staying to watch if so!

Daphne and I had had much digital and telephone contact in the twelve weeks since we had seen each other, but there is nothing like actually being with a friend and together doing something you both like. And now restrictions are to be relaxed further as from tomorrow, another bridge friend is immediately taking advantage of that and has invited three of us round to her garden, not of course for bridge – which would not be within guidelines, sensible, or practical – but for a good old chinwag, socially distanced of course. We will even each take our own beverages.

Permitted Walk 5/The Newt in Somerset – May

Tags

Broad-bodied chaser, Coronavirus, Cyder, Gilles Guillot, Patrice Taravella, The Newt in Somerset, VE 75

When I bought my season ticket for The Newt in Somerset late in January, I had intended to go every month or so to see how things changed through the seasons. The month of May should have brought me to my third or fourth visit. However, in present circumstances, I had just assumed that it was not open now.  But a few days ago, something prompted me to look at their website. To my delight, I found that the gardens were open, but not the house. (Given that the house is a luxury hotel, charging at least £450 a night, this would be no great hardship to me.) No other buildings, including the gardening museum, were open either, except the farm shop. And the website informed me that they were limiting numbers of visitors.

Imagining, with a lessening of lockdown in the air, that shortly the place would become very popular, especially as they were not charging for entrance, and that I might have to queue unless I arrived early, I decided to be at the gate at opening time the very next morning. And so I did, after a bit of a drive, (permitted under the police guidance given a week or so previously that any driving for a walk must be less than the time taken walking). At 10 a.m. there were just 5 other cars in the car park and I had the vast place almost to myself for a while.

These trees were of course bare in January. The path from the car park leads up to the entrance

The temporary one-way system leads you through the barn-like entrance, whose glass sliding doors were fixed open both sides for maximum air circulation.

The meeter-and-greeter explained that they were (able to?) open because of the farm shop, so I felt obliged to patronise it (no hardship, wonderful stuff). Because she had said there was a one-way system, I bought things at the beginning of my walk, which put me under some pressure for the rest of my time there because I had bought some soft cheese. Having suffered food-poisoning a long time ago through something not being adequately refrigerated, I have been acutely concerned ever since not to repeat that experience. As a result, I did not spend as much time in the gardens as I would like, anxious to get my cheese home and into the fridge! (In the event it was still nicely chilled when it found its chilly refuge.)

Having shopped, I took a peek into the cactus house whose outsize plants had inspired me at the beginning of the year to compose – with the help of the expert who sold its elements to me and planted them – my own little windowsill cactus garden. (I knew that old unused casserole would come in useful sometime.)

Photo taken about a month ago

The cottage garden

As I stepped through the gap in the hedge into the Victorian Fragrance Garden – and I know these are emotional times – my eyes welled up at the sight before them. Hitherto, the supermarket had been the furthest I had ventured from home.

Seeing a socially distanced staff meeting going on brought amusement and dried my eyes. The woman is holding a laptop and apparently explaining things.

I didn’t go into the kitchen garden. I think I may have been being obsessively cautious, but it would have meant touching the gate catch. Which I could easily have done without risk, as I had my surgical spirit with me.

Wildlife area

Red campion

I next entered the vast Parabola, devoted to the apple, which alone contains 240 varieties, and there are more elsewhere.

Most of the blossom, as in my own garden, had disappeared, with some exceptions.

Water welling up constantly

Each area is named for a British (English? I must check next time) county. Decades ago I lived in a Somerset Walk, in Berkshire. Now I live in Somerset.

It was another French gardener, Patrice Taravella, who designed these gardens on behalf of the South African billionaire who bought Hapsden House (the hotel) and its grounds in 2013. Here is an informative 2019 article from the Financial Times.

I am not displeased with this photo of an immature male Broad-bodied chaser.

The café is shut of course.

I do hope that it is not just other priorities which have left this pretty intruder on the steps.

I assumed the drinking fountain had been turned off, though I would not have been tempted in present circumstances to accept the invitation to ‘Buvez-moi’

But no, it was foot pressure which activated it.

I left the Parabola (named for the shape of the walled apple garden) and found myself back near the entrance. But I did not want to leave before 11.00.

Shop staff and a couple of visitors awaiting the start of the two-minute silence for VE 75 Day. I was pleased to be in (very socially-distanced) company at that hour.

There is much, much more to see at The Newt. The parkland has yet to be opened at all, scheduled for ‘the summer’ but who knows now. There are other parts of the gardens and woodland I have not yet seen, and I hope that it will not be too long before the History of Gardening museum is re-opened, though it may be a while before, whatever the regulations at the time, I feel confident enough to go into any building unnecessarily. Perhaps that’s a pleasure for next year.

They had set up a temporary alternative exit to maintain the one-way system, which seemed to involve walking down the tradesmen’s drive. I diverted to take a peek at just a little woodland first.

The old marl pit.

Not a bad tradesman’s entrance/exit

Reminded me of the pencil gate at Millfield pre-prep that I had seen the day before.

The one-way system in action, as fresh visitors arrive on the parallel path in the distance.

That permitted walk really did my soul good! Back in a month or so’s time, all being well, and perhaps then I’ll buy some Newt cyder (sic) – but at the end of my walk.