Come Down to Kew!

A proper good morning to you.
Even though it’s not Lilac Time (for you Alfred Noyes fans) and the Blue Bells are long over and the Rhododendrons are gone, Kew is still worth a visit.
Pil, you left London yesterday and walked in grounds. Don’t you ever get enough?
No. What’s your point?
The thing is there’s more rain in the forecast, and my time is growing short. It was going to be hot and awful in Central London, and I particularly wanted to return to Kew. So today I did. But I wish I had gone earlier, because I realize I’d like to go again, and it won’t happen this trip.
My weekday breakfast is whole grain bread and hummus. The bread is not as wonderfully bready as the stuff I had in Vienna but it’s good. It’s fortifying for a long day of sight seeing.
Kew is Southwest of London a bit up river from Richmond and like Richmond has royal associations about which more later. To get there I tubed to South Kensington on the Piccadilly Line and transferred to the District line as I have done several times before. It was about an hour’s trip from Holborn.
The Gardens are about a ten minutes walk from the station. There is an admission charge, but there is plenty to see and do, and one could easily spend the day. Kew was long royal property, but it was the Princess Augusta, mother of George III, who began to collect plants from at home and abroad turning the estate into a center for scientific study, which it still is.
Kew takes its preservationist and educational missions seriously, and I enjoyed the labels and placards placed here and there, but above all Kew is a beautiful place to visit and provides quite a few activities and attractions—as long as you like plants!
On my last visit many years ago, I barely penetrated the grounds. I stayed near the greenhouses and formal gardens. This time I lit out for the woodland walks and the restoration of natural habitats. The first thing I noticed was the fragrance of the air. Sometimes the scent of flowers wafted by and sometimes herby smells. You can certainly find old English woods here with oaks and chestnuts. They’ve also planted an American conifer forest. There’s a lovely stand of some comparatively small redwoods.
Both of the gigantic Victorian greenhouses are worth a visit. I had the Temperate House all to myself with its carp pond, blossoms and towering trees. The Tropic House is even more exotic although you need to be prepared to sweat.
A highly cool new feature is a tree top walk. I climbed an awful lot of stairs, but strolling around the branches and tops of trees was lots of fun.
Another new structure is the Conservatory named for the late Princess of Wales. A variety of plant habitats and types are well displayed, but the truly magical experience is the butterfly room where jewel like insects flit and fly freely amidst the enchanted visitors.
The Gardens also contain, among other things a “palace,” so called only because it was a royal residence. It’s in fact a large, unformal house in a vaguely Dutch style and became the favorite home of George III and his wife Charlotte. It is charmingly simple and homey just as the royal couple liked it.
Poor old George has an undeserved bad reputation in the United States because he went crazy and Thomas Jefferson used him as a propaganda target in the Declaration. But George was a hard working monarch and affectionate family man. He loved gardens and was also keen on scientific discoveries and would be thrilled to see what his old home has become.
On my way home I stopped off at Covent Garden for some goat cheese at Neal’s Yard. One has kind of an ashy rind and is very rich and creamy. The other is a bit harder and is definitely more yellow and the cheese maker used a traditional vegetable rennet usually used on cows milk so it sort of tastes a bit more like Brie—kind of. Both are scrumptious! But before digging in to the cheese, I enjoyed a big lettuce and vegetable salad I’d picked up at the grocery store.
Cherrio!