Today I’m off on another Nature quest. There’s an area outside of central London called Richmond, and in it is a very famous park called Kew Gardens. It’s in all the guidebooks and on every “Must do in London” site. I’ve got a full day with no plans, so I’ve decided it’s Kew Gardens day.
It takes a bit of research to figure out which Tube line will go there, as the one headed in that direction splits off, with one line heading to Richmond and one line heading elsewhere. But I think I’ve got it down. Sadly, it’s a day of low, gray clouds. I hope it doesn’t rain, but I dress for it just in case. The train is crowded, even for a Saturday, and I wonder if tourists are starting to arrive in even greater numbers.
The train lets us off at a station in a lovely little town. There are two main streets, coming together, as usual, in a strange diagonal, with a little roundabout. There is a coffee shop, a local bookstore, an ice cream store, a florist and a few other small shops. The word that comes to mind is “quaint.” Luckily signs point the direction to the park, but of course they point in one direction when there are three streets going basically the same way and diverging off a bit further down. I decide to follow the one where there are more people headed, figuring they, like me, are going to the Kew Gardens park. For once, I’m right, and I see the entrance to the park ahead.
I knew there would be an entrance fee, because the guidebooks had said so, but I had no idea it would be $26 worth! Most parks are totally free, so this one had better have some spectacular sights for such a cost. I get a map of the park, and it turns out to be absolutely enormous, 300 acres! Not something you could actually complete in a single day.
Kew Gardens started as a botanical study garden in 1759 by Lord Capel of Tewkesbury, and then was added onto by princes and princesses of the realm. It’s still a working botanical garden, and became a national botanical garden in 1840. In 2003, it was declared a World Heritage Site.
Palm House
I decide to go to see the Palm House, because it’s in a huge, beautiful greenhouse that was built in 1848 by a famous Victorian ironworker.
The Palm House at Kew Gardens
Inside are palms of all kinds, including one from South Africa that’s supposed to be the oldest potted plant in the world. Here’s the amusing sign from it:
Oldest Pot Plant Sign
And here’s the palm itself, which reaches to the ceiling of the greenhouse and is bent over from hitting it.
Oldest and Maybe Tallest Palm
Of course I’m well used to seeing palm trees and tropical foliage in California, but here in gray, cloudy London, this flora is exotic and awe-inspiring. There are tons of children in the Palm House, oohing and ahhing about leaves larger than their heads, and trees that are multi-storeys high.
There’s a lovely, if old, Victorian iron staircase winding up to near the top of the greenhouse.
Victorian Staircase in the Palm House
Despite the fact that I have to climb 64 steps every day to the flat, I head up to see the view from the top of the palms.
View From the Treetops
It’s warm and humid in here, quite different than the chilliness outdoors. People strip off raincoats, sweatshirts, and scarves, so the narrow walkways are often blocked while moms help squirming toddlers out of extra layers in their strollers.
Lily House
Back downstairs and across the path there’s a room-sized pool with water lilies. The type of lilies there have the largest leaves in the entire plant kingdom, and are stunningly beautiful with the shadows of the greenhouse roof reflected in the water.
Largest Leaf, the Water Lilies in the Palm House
Blooming Water Lilies
Beauty Ready to Unfold: Water Lily Bud Just Poking Up Above the Surface
On my way towards the exit I see another tropical plant I want to photograph, but I don’t see a label, so I don’t know what it is. But it’s beautiful.
Unknown Tropical Beauty
Back outside we all stop to put on our warm clothing again. It’s chilly and feels like it might begin to drizzle at any time. I see that some folks have brought picnics and are heading out to the grassy areas to try to enjoy dining al fresco. It dawns on me finally that this is Memorial Day weekend, and the crowds are here to celebrate having an extra day off. Just at this moment I miss my friends and family. It’s fun being on an adventure in a foreign city, and I’ve been having a great time. But today, a holiday weekend meant for sharing with loved ones, I feel sad to be on my own. If I were with Barbara and her parents, or Bruce & Teresa, we’d be chatting and showing each other our photos, and sharing our thoughts and feelings about the beauty around us. We’d have brought a picnic of our own, or planned on eating at the restaurant in the park. But oh well, there’s no use dwelling in sad thoughts. The sky is gray and low enough as it is, and if I give in to missing my friends and family, I’ll just want to go home.
I continue on, planning to make my way around to the opposite end of the park from where I entered, to see the river. I pass the Kew Palace, a huge red brick building.
Kew Palace
I can’t seem to find my way to the river. The signs are vague, and too far apart. The map has the major exhibits on it, but only the major paths are listed; the small pathways seem to have no name. I’ve been wandering around, enjoying the scenery, but now I’m getting tired. I know if I’d been with friends, they’d have been better at finding our way around. We would have stopped for lunch in the restaurant, and decided together when it was time to go. Ah well, I and myself have decided it’s time to go.
On the way back I pass a building called the Orangerie. I had thought the Orangerie was an orange grove. I expected to see an orchard of trees with bright Spring-green leaves, and the buds of the blossoms all on the verge of bursting open with the scent of neroli. But it’s not an orchard. It’s the restaurant. And it’s packed, completely full on this holiday weekend. I’m hungry, but not enough to warrant standing in a queue and then wandering around with a tray looking for a place to sit. So I pass by the building on my way back to the gate.
The Orangerie Restaurant from Across the Green
Near to where I came in is a large pond, at the back of which is a huge building. This, I believe, is the Princess of Wales Conservancy.
Princess of Wales Conservancy Building
I don’t go in. My mood has darkened with the skies, and I’m heading out. As I round the pond, the children feeding the huge koi and the swans make me smile again, as do the lovely flowers near the gate.
Swans on the Pond
Beautiful Flower Gardens
Irises in Kew Gardens
I leave Kew Gardens and head into the village. It’s so quaint and cute, I decide to spend a bit of time there. I see the bookstore is still open, so I come up with a plan. I’ll buy myself a book, then I’ll go sit at the café’s outside table and read a bit before heading back into the city. The book will keep me busy on the long journey back, too, so it’ll be doubly useful.
The bookstore is quite nice. It’s been a long time since I’ve actually bought a book. Lately I’ve been listening more than reading to books, and getting the audio copies from my local library. I did pick up a couple of books at the bookstore in Alameda a while ago, but found I didn’t really like either of them all that much. Since I’ve been working so hard at ADC, for 2 long years, I’ve been too tired to read much at night. But now I’m on vacation, and here I am, in a delightful village bookstore, and the main problem is in not buying every third book in sight. I speak with the proprietress, and she recommends a book by Rose Tremain called The Road Home. It’s all about London, she says, as she knows now that’s where I’m staying. It’s about an Eastern European immigrant’s experience in London. Well, after meeting Algis just yesterday, I can’t resist the synchronicity and buy that book, as well as an Inspector Morse mystery I don’t think I’ve read. If it’s true, if it’s a Morse I haven’t read or seen a production of, then I’m in for a treat.
I take my books and head the 20 paces to the café. They don’t have any savory food, just sweets. I am trying hard to watch my blood sugar via diet while here, so I decide on the sweet with the most protein and least gluten: cheesecake. With that and a cup of tea I sit in the early evening light, listening to local children and their parents, watching the tourists coming back from Kew Gardens. I begin The Road Home and immediately like the writing, pulled into the story and the characters.
By the time I’m done eating and ready to head to the Tube, my mood is lighter and I feel better. I suppose it’s normal, after nearly 3 weeks away, to miss my friends and family, to be a bit blue when seeing others sharing their holiday weekend with each other. But I’m over it now. Tomorrow I have another class, Monday another chart supervision group, and there’s much to look forward to for the rest of my visit to the UK.
So tired but cheered, I make my way back to the Tube station. It’s totally packed. And, to my surprise, there’s something wrong with my Oyster card; I can’t get through the turnstile. I’ve just topped it up yesterday, so it can’t be that it’s out of money. I go into the station and stand in a queue. The station agent tells me that Richmond is not in Zone 1 or Zone 2, which is all my card works for. I owe another 2 pounds 40 for the extra time on the train. Well, fine, but why they couldn’t have just taken it out of the money already on the card is beyond me. Many others are grumbling about the same thing. A minor annoyance, though.
The train arrives and we all squeeze in. I manage to find a seat, thankfully, because my feet are tired and it’s a long ride back. I get home and fix myself a proper dinner. All in all it was a good day. Gray skies and gray mood, but like the weather, my mood changes, and all is well.
No comments:
Post a Comment