We went for an amble at the Royal Botanic Gardens at Kew. Something I’ve always wanted to do. 300 acres of gardens, treetop walk ways, hothouses, arbours, columned temples and specially created environments. And in Spring? A riot of colour and blossoms and fresh new green.
My mate, survivor of another London winter, refused to leave the tropical warmth of the Prince of Wales Conservatory. I loved the Victorian splendor of the Palm House, with it’s filigreed white painted iron work and spiral staircases and walkways. I also loved the waterlilly houses. All humid and misted. While M’s husband took some happy glee at the whole section of carnivorous plants.
But the cheeky swans gliding on a fountained lake, surrounded by a million blooming tulips and daffodils and crocuses just took my breath away.