The Garden of England

And now it's off to Little Chart in Kent before I'm tempted to tell you about my Stratford-Upon-Avon day or the day the steam train didn't go to Cheltenham because of a landslide. Then there was the beautiful Hidcote Garden; Blenheim Palace; Winston Churchill's beloved Chartwell. Oh I could go on and on! But no, the Kentish Wealds are calling and where better to experience the Garden of England, as Kent is so engagingly named, than with a visit to the romantic and beautiful garden at Sissinghurst Castle.

A man's home is his castle according to common wisdom and this is indeed literally true for some unfortunate souls lumbered with the ancestral pile.

What do you do if you inherit a property like Sissinghurst for instance, without a vast fortune to support its upkeep?

Enter the National Trust, rescuer of Lords and Ladies in distress who are reluctant to sell off the family seat to some Johnny-come-lately from the music industry. The idea is that you hand over the property to the National Trust along with whatever cash you can scrape together, and you, depending on the deal you cut, get to live there for free as do your heirs in perpetuity.

Sounds good? Well, yes it is really, as long as you're not fussed about 150,000 people turning up at your place on an annual basis. And of course you don't get to live in the best rooms any more, but then neither do you have to clean them.

The National Trust are a bossy lot and won't tolerate your kids leaving their bikes on the lawn, or trying out their pea-shooters on the visitors. But in the long run, handing over the mansion to the NT forms yet another firm bond between the cash strapped upper classes. I'm sure they derive endless hours of entertainment discussing the latest outrageous demands and restrictions imposed on them by the all powerful Trust.

We visitors to the land of the Stately Mansion are the real winners in this arrangement, enjoying, as we do, visiting some of the country's finest real estate. Some properties even accept paying guests.

All UK bound Aussies must surely know by now that if you join the National Trust of Australia before you depart you can visit NT properties in the UK for nix. This reciprocal arrangement has the potential to save the history buff and garden lover a very tidy sum.

And so it is with my NT card in hand that I head for the most famous garden in the world, Sissinghurst Castle Garden.

For those of you who have been living on some other planet for the last 40 odd years, Sissinghurst was the creation of the fascinating Vita Sackville-West, and her equally intriguing husband, Harold Nicholson.

The story of their unusual relationship makes riveting reading in itself, and heaven knows their son Nigel milked that little cash cow dry in the 1980s or there-abouts.

It is the garden we have come to see today, but also to peek into the romantic Elizabethan Tower where Vita wrote her poetry and her gardening articles, in a room overlooking the wonderful garden she created from a derelict ruin.

Harold can take credit for the layout of the garden which employs the concept of the 'garden room', where each area is visually separated from the next by, now mature, Yew hedges or old brick walls, so a surprise awaits at every turn.

Vita planted the garden in a romantic blowsy style with flower colours echoing the colours of the mellow old walls, and designed beds or, in the case of the White Garden, a whole garden, on a particular colour theme.

The White Garden is revered and copied the world over, sometimes as an exact replica.

Roses were the flowers that Vita loved and used extensively in all the gardens, so the spring and early summer provide the very best viewing. But a visit in the autumn does not go unrewarded as the autumn perennials are at their peak in every garden. I'll resist the temptation to bore you with botanical lists.

My particular favourite is the Cottage Garden which was Harold's domain. He planted it in all the warm colours of red, yellow and orange. Adding immensely to this garden's charm is South Cottage with its diamond paned windows and mellow brick walls covered with climbing roses, giving the feel that it is just a picturesque house in a flowery garden rather than part of a much larger whole.

Having wandered at length in the garden I stroll past the moat and on towards the lakes some distance from the garden proper. As I am returning from a circumnavigation of the two peaceful lakes I spy coming towards me, with two dogs at heel, Adam Nicholson, the grandson of the famous Vita, who, with his family, is the current incumbent.

I have seen him this very year at the Adelaide Writer's Week, where he was promoting his book about his past and present involvement with Sissinghurst. I bought a copy at the time and the reading of it gave me much enjoyment.

Concious that the poor fellow is probably constantly accosted by old birds like me who have been at one of his lectures, I none-the-less am bold enough to say, 'Now didn't I see you in Adelaide this year?'

When I mention Adelaide the lights go on! He has had a wonderful time on that trip, and we are instantly the best of friends. He had not previously been to Australia and was much taken with the whole experience. He went to Kangaroo Island, which he loved, and hopes he will return to see more of the country one day.

He asks my opinion on the garden, and I say I'm impressed with the standard of maintenance and we discuss whether it is overly trim. I don't think so, he's not so sure. I know his grandmother liked the yew hedges to be a little 'fluffy', but I personally like a tight hedge, and am more than happy when I spot the gardeners using a spirit level as they clip the tall Yews. A section of the hedge has died in recent years as a result of wet feet, and he tells me the details of the restoration programme.

We eventually bid each other farewell and he continues on his walk, and I return for one last look at the Cottage Garden, marvelling at the fact that I've just been chatting with the grandson of its creator.