The name 'Lost Gardens' attracted me the first time I heard it, several years ago. I watched a documentary on the TV 2 or 3 years ago and was fascinated. It was very much on my list of Must Dos, and, it turned out, other than the journeys to and from home, was our furthest trip from base (from which you can gather, we didn't do The Eden Project).
Wikipedia says:
Before the First World War the garden required the services of 22 gardeners to maintain it, but that war lead to the deaths of...16 of those gardeners, and by 1916 the garden was being looked after by only 8 men. In the 1920s Jack Tremayne's love of Italy led him to set up permanent home there, and lease out Heligan. The house was tenanted for most of the 20th century, used by the US Army during the Second World War, and then converted into flats and sold, without the gardens, in the 1970s. Against this background, the gardens fell into a serious state of neglect, and were lost to sight.
It's quite shocking to think of so much land laying waste. Many landowners talk of their holdings as something held in trust, they are mere custodians. Some are conscientious in fulfilling this duty; for others, it's little more than a slogan because they know their ancestors got hold of the land unfairly. After the Second World War, productive land was in short supply as Britain aimed for greater food self-sufficiency and turned to intensive farming. Perhaps this land was less than ideal for farming, and we holiday-makers are the fortunate present day beneficiaries, but neglecting the land for so long was a crime against the community.
A tip to future visitors: the website says approach the Gardens from St Austell. They are absolutely right. I thought I knew better and allowed Tom Tom to guide us down the narrowest of tiny country lanes. We left via St Austell.
The public gardens are divided into broad areas - the Jungle and the Northern Gardens. In my diary I wrote "I don't see a great deal of benefit in me describing in detail everything of the four hours we spent walking around...I took about a hundred photos". A picture tells a thousand words!
The Jungle is green and dense. When you walk around, you feel the change in the atmosphere - it has its own micro-climate.
The visual glory is in the three dimensions. There are four interlinked ponds, descending down the Valley, with a boardwalk around them. Signs recommend sturdy footwear, but, nevertheless, there were a few people - all young - in fashion footwear, heels and so on. Their choice and their risk, but they didn't seem to be enjoying themselves, and one held everyone else up as she teetered slowly along a footpath, held up by her partner, and blocking the path for people in both directions. I don't understand the thought process that begins with "Let's go to a thousand acre garden set on a hillside" and ends with "...wearing disco shoes". The Jungle also isn't suitable for pushchairs or wheelchairs.
First we walked past the wildflower meadow, a visual delight, and one providing views to the coast at Mevagissey.
I took a few photos in The Jungle but I find that dense green areas generally don't make for exciting photos.
As we were leaving The Jungle, a schoolparty was arriving. I support 'Learning by Play' and think that much of the Primary School curriculum should involve activity, outdoors where possible. Letting 30 or so 8 year olds run through a paid visitor attraction screaming at the top of their voices is not educational. There are playgrounds for screaming; in a garden, children should be encouraged to stop and look, take in the atmosphere, and show respect for other people - the world doesn't revolve around them just because they're children.
Our next stop was the tea-room in the Steward's House. There are two catering facilities at Heligan: one near the ticket office and shop, and one conveniently placed in the centre. It was a bit basic - tea served in polystyrene cups - but the tea was decent and it was worth a stop to look at the prints on the wall of traditional rural crafts. The tea room was set in beautiful if unexceptional gardens.
Next stop was the orchard. I have read about orchards in books. I have seen commercial orchards on TV and when driving past. But it's only recently I have realised what a domestic orchard is; I will have one in my hypothetical post-Lottery win rural retreat.Trees laden with fruit, and a variety of waterfowl around the pond, obligingly posing for photographs.
We spent the rest of our stay strolling around the Northern Gardens. The guidebook divides them into Pleasure Grounds and Productive Gardens. The flower gardens were magnificent to behold.
I am still quite useless at identifying flowers (see also: birds and trees) and although I am learning slowly, it's difficult. I certainly won't be insulted if better people than me pop helpful hints into the comments box.
The Productive Gardens were just as beautiful in their own way. I envy people who had so much space to grow their own - although back in the heyday they would have employed a sizeable staff to do the growing, and more again to do the bottling and preserving.
Jimmy pointed out to me the difference between the shapes of Conference and Comice pears. I had never previously given it much thought!
I enjoyed this piece of garden sculpture.
We walked in some of the wilder areas nearer the formal gardens and found tranquility in quiet places, but they didn't photograph so well!
When we were finished we went to the main tearoom, hoping to eat, but they had run out of food by 3.30pm which was a tad disappointing. The quality of the tea wasn't that good, and Jimmy noticed that they hadn't replenished the napkin dispenser since our morning coffee. Signs that, having a captive audience, they were rather complacent. This happens too often at too many 'Visitor Attractions'. I've been to worse, though.
We finished the day off in Mevagissey. We had considered staying here, before plumping for Marazion, and having visited the town, I felt we made the right decision. A pretty town, and we didn't mind the walk to-and-from the Pay and Display on the edge of the village. But I was struck by the large numbers of shops selling downmarket tat and, without being snobby, okay, being snobby, an awful lot of people for whom buying downmarket tourist tat was nirvana.
We found a pub called the Wheelhouse. Their evening specials board looked outstanding, but it wasn't due to start for another hour. Nevertheless, we had decent fish and chips. I was surprised they didn't come with peas, and the couple at the next table complained that theirs didn't, either, and they had specifically ordered mushy peas. A minor niggle and if I were in the town again I'd confidently go back there to eat. I also had my first taste of Rattler cider. It was not to be my last.
Many more Heligan photos in Cornwall photo album.
My other blogposts on Visitor Gardens:
Abbotsbury Subtropical Gardens
Burton Bradstock and Little Bredy
Blogposts by others:
Lost in the Mist by Indifferent Reflections - this is a lovely blog, worth spending the time to browse through her posts.
Lost Gardens of Heligan from Heaven Happens
The Lost Gardens Of Heligan, the One for me! - A Day in the Life
