Adam's Garden

My gardening highlight this month was undoubtedly a trip to the Hampton Court Flower Show, the world's biggest and organised by the Royal Horticutural Society. It terrifies me to think of how much work is involved in organising such a show but the RHS appeared to have covered all the angles, from the highly regimented car park, manned by a battalion of highly efficient stewards, right the way through to the plant porters who appeared to be a motley mixture of students and resting actors.

A group of us bombed down the motorway, having risen at a not too sociable hour, and arrived at the showground in what seemed good time for a leisurely visit. Last year the same group had been to the Chelsea flower Show, but the crowds were so bad we decided to skip it this time around. At Chelsea, with the steaming masses pressing from all sides it was a case of either waiting in line or judicious use of the elbows to get a glimpse of the sights. Added to this it had been an unseasonally cold day - which I gather is something Chelsea is prone to on account of the time of year. The Hampton Court Show, held in the grounds of Henry the Eighth's famous palace - renowned for amongst other things the maze, a gigantic grape vine and a real tennis court - has been described as a more vistor friendly show than Chelsea and it was nice to test the assertion. The first destination for our happy band was the advertised picnic site, which turned out to be anywhere you could find to sit on the grass alongside the great canal. Although there were many more people than I had expected we duly settled down and with great trepidation I opened a bottle of Lindauer , a superb well-priced sparkling wine from New Zealand. I was a tad concerned that having travelled with us in the car for a number of hours it would be just a little shaken up!

Fortunately, and to the relief of those in the immediate proximity, this part of the proceedings passed without incident and we quaffed it as we ate our sumptuous picnic lunch. Crisps and sparkling wine make a great combination! It was an excellent way to wind down after a long journey and to absorb the surroundings. Occasionally spray from the canal fountain would be carried to us by the breeze. It would have been nice to linger awhile but there was some serious sightseeing ahead of us and we were anxious not to waste too much time.

After an attempt to plan a route round the showground in consultation with the map in the catalogue, it was decided that we were better off simply heading for the plant heritage tent as a starting point. Here we found a number of stalls exhibiting a variety of national collections. The concept of a national collection is quite interesting: the idea is that an individual or party, whether private, institutional or business, specialises in a particular genus and cultivates as many menbers of that genus as possible. I don't know whether there are any rules as to what percentage of the known species or cultivars a national collection should include - the goal posts would be forever moving if that were so, but in the case of a genus with a large number of species there are a number of national collections. In this way the workload can be spread out amongst the participants. Each exhibitor had assembled a diverse array of specimens, but by keeping each stand to a single genus it was fascinating to compare and contrast (as well as buy!) plants that were at once similar yet in many ways quite different. I never knew how many different types of lavendar were available, although a lot of them do look remarkably similar.

The collection of Clematis was of particular interest to me because I was on the lookout for a new variety called 'Josephine', a much-trumpeted new introduction. The plant in question was there, and it is certainly a fine variety and one I shall get when the price goes down. It is pink, surprise surprise, but it has a good shape and double flowers that open to reveal yet more petals beneath. It has an interesting history in that it was bought as a young plant from a market stall and due partially to neglect didn't flower for two years. The owner, called Josephine, unable to identify it, took it to an expert who eventually decided that it was probably a sport of another variety and was indeed unique.

On leaving the heritage tent we meandered through innumerable gardens, each one built from scratch for the show, some with complete buildings and water features, many with particular themes, and all remarkable in their own way and full of ideas for the amateur to implement, albeit on a much smaller scale! There were gardens with mirrors, gardens with ponds, some with fully matured vegetable plots, one with a battered old wooden greenhouse that some lucky gardener must have sold to the designer who was seeking the distressed effect, and in fact so many gardens that it was impossible to see them all. Many were planted up with old favourites like Marigolds, Crocosmia, Monarda, and Lavatera , and many introduced more unfamiliar species like Bauhunia, Neopaxia and Sanchezia, sounding more like planets or obscure South American provinces.

Innumerable stalls offering all things gardening spread from one side of the showground to the other. There were ice cream parlours and even a champagne tent. A stall with clever miniature self-contained fountains and garden water features all made from coppercaught my eye, and the designer assured me that once covered in green-blue verdigris they would look even nicer. I did notice though that the prices were not marked. Garden statuary and sculpture were available for those with appropriately large estates; a giant bronze bear was particularly imposing, but there were also some rather fetching hedgehogs - much more down to earth.

The most interesting sections of the show to me were the four giant floral marquees. These were full of stalls and exhibitions by individual nurseries. These ranged from understated cut flower displays, designed to facilitate easy inspection of individual blooms, to complete wilderness scenes, with the plants arranged as naturalistically as possible. I was transported by one stand into the bowels of a tropical rainforest, deep below the soaring forest canopy, to the domain of the carnivorous plant. Moss and interconnecting pools added to the stunning effect, which would not have looked misplaced in a natural history documentary, and there was a complete range of insect eating plants, many for sale on the day.

Every major category of wild and cultivated plant appeared to be on display within the colossal marquees, from desert cacti to the mosses of the northern tundra, from miniature alpines to swaying pampass grasses, there was a feast for even the most demanding specialist. There were roses clambering over giant frameworks, cut roses, shrub roses, tea roses, new roses, old roses, in fact so many roses that one section was put aside for purchase and collection in order not to congest the displays.

Some stands were devoted entirely to one genus, and others were more diverse. Many plants that caught my eye that day but two which stood out were Pelargonium 'voodoo', with an impossible combination of deep purple and puce petals, and Sisyrinchum montanum nudicaule, a small, delicate member of the genus.

At the end of a long day, we all agreed that the show was far better than Chelsea, not because the displays were better but because there was more space, fewer people, and it was possible to buy plants. The larger displays were truly phenomenal , including one seaside scene over 100 yards long that included a boat, beach, pier and full size cottage built with original materials!

As we drove home, resolving to return next year, I wondered what Henry the eighth would have made of it all. Then again, given the number of wives he went through he probably wouldn't have had much time to concern himself with the gardens in any case!

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