A walk well spent brings a week of content...

My dad is a walker. Not a fair-weather stroller, a rambler nor a hiker - a walker. Most weekends, he puts on his walking shoes and disappears for a few hours - generally spending his time traversing the South Downs. Luckily, we live just over an hours drive away from some of the most gorgeous, dare I say it, quintessentially English, countryside. Think rolling green hills leading down to the glittering English Channel. On an early Autumn day, theres few places better to be than being swept backwards with the wind, cheeks rosy and an amazing view to reward you for a steep walk. 

The last time we did this - a walk through Savernake forest or a drizzly September day - seemed far too long ago, so on one of the last days of the summer, my father and I set off to Alfriston for a walk. My dad does this most weekends between May and September, when the whether is fair and bright, not too hot and not too chilly; often being joined by my brothers. And until recently, I genuinely was not fit enough. In the past few years, I've lost a huge amount of weight, and grown immensely fitter in the process - however the kind of fitness you need to be able to walk up a 16% (in places!) incline is a very different one to the one that I've become in the gym.

As I said, my dad doesn't really consider it a 'walk' if its below 5 miles, and there isn't at least one hill to climb. So you have to come prepared, basically. It's really nice to have this time together - this walk was only a few weekends after my Grandmother passed away - and it was quite nice to just spend a few hours doing something that he enjoys. I'm going to make a definite point to do more of it when the weather picks up again, next year.

I also think that Alfriston is the most beautiful little village - the house pictured here is so beautiful - it reminds me of the little villages around Farnham, where I went to Uni that are really sweet, and probably cost two of my house put together. A girl can dream.. It also had the most gorgeous village green where we sat and munched sandwiches and drank cans of Fanta, watching whilst a family ate cream tea and scones with Champagne on deckchairs. How very British... 

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the royal landscape: the saville garden

These photos seem a world away now after the few weeks of bad weather we've had here - it fully feels like autumn here... I took these photos on one of my first outings a few weeks after healing up from my operation, my mum and I took a short walk around the lovely flowered gardens and a leisurely pace, and taking lunch in the cafe afterwards. Of course, I took a few snaps...

Since I last visited, they planted up a beautiful selection of wild-flowers, which had the most stunning cornflowers (which I've decided are one of my absolute favourite flowers, they grew like a weed all over the allotment and I used to pick them in copious amounts and bring them home to sit on the windowsill in little jam jars)... I've decided that if I ever were to have a garden of my own, I would plant only wildflowers as they attract a swarm of bees and their colour makes me so happy. 

They had quite a few of the late summer flowers in bloom when we went along - with a lot of hydrangea's (which could be a close contender for my favourite flower - particularly in this beautiful blue hue). The Saville Garden is part of the The Royal Landscape (which I've posted about many times) as it's a place filled with so many memories for me and  love spending time there - particularly of wandering around collecting fallen hydrangeas and rhododendrons as a child and bringing them home to press between books... 

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RHS Wisley in the Springtime - pt. 2

Way back in April, I visited RHS Wisley with my mum for a little afternoon out - have a look at my previous post here - but we only live about 20 minutes up the M3 from it, so I was appalled that it took me so long to get around to visiting again! Especially since I found out they had a gorgeous glasshouse (you know I love a glasshouse), which is what this post will feature heavily...

The glasshouse is a fairly recent addition and opened in 2012 (Wisley house and gardens were given to the RHS in 1903), with three sections; you can read about the glasshouse at Wisley here, but it really is fantastic. With it's tropical section, filled with giant palms, hanging orchids, and all the ferns a girl could wish for, I could happily spend hours in there. I loved the arid glasshouse too, filled with beautiful cacti and scented flowers, when I visited.

Keep reading for the orchids...!

RHS Wisley in the Springtime - pt. 1

Way back in April, I visited RHS Wisley with my mum for a little afternoon out. Having been several times when I was a little kid, I really couldn't remember it too well, so we decided to refresh my memory.  We only live about 20 minutes up the M3 from it, so I was appalled that it took me so long to get around to visiting, especially since I found out they had a gorgeous glasshouse (you know I love a glasshouse).  

I know that I'm a bit out of season with these pictures - but I had so many to resize and edit, because everything there was so beautiful, that I just hadn't had the time to get around it, and it seemed like such a daunting task - so now I have finally got around to it, I think I'll have to split it into a couple of posts...! 

I particularly loved walking around the initial gardens when you come in, in the spring these are full of magnolia trees, cherry blossoms and acers, all sorts of brightly coloured spring flowers to admire as you walk through to the glass house, which really had my heart.
This pink tree is my absolute favourite - I'm determined to get one for my dad for his garden: it's something like a chinese cedar/mahogany, but the name is 'Flamingo' - which is the most perfect pink with white trunks.

Keep reading to see the bonsai trees...!

ode to an english summer

In the winter I have visions of an English summer, of prancing around in sun-dresses and Birkenstocks, drinking Pimms, and tossing my hair back without a care in the world. But the reality is a humidity that makes you look like lion, hippy sandals that rub, being so sweaty on the train it should be illegal, and I forget that I don't even like Pimms. It's like a crappier sangria.

Sometimes the humidity will break, though, and you get those really excellent, snatched summer moments, when you can smell flowers in the evening and listen to the red kites calling above, whilst drinking chilled white wine in the garden and you feel all pleasantly tired from a long walk somewhere, and the tops of your shoulders and your nose are just a bit too pink but you know it will fade to a soft brown, taking the edge off your year round paleness.

This is how I spent Saturday afternoon - the garden table broke so I just stretched out on the lawn with a bowl of sushi to pick at - my favourite magazine and a glass of iced tea (which turned into white wine as the sun set). The rose-bush in my parents garden is in full swing - I'm trying to persuade my dad he needs a peony bush - it began to feel like a good English summer, not a smidgen of humidity could be felt.

the snow day that never was

Last week (or the week before, time is running into one, apparently) I was off work, and had intended to go for an early morning run - however I opened my curtains and it was snowing. I hung about for a bit, but then the snow wasn't stopping, so decided to drag my mum out for a walk with my camera, instead. By the time we got to the lake, the snow had stopped and all but melted.
We walked around Virginia Water, up to the hill and the heather garden, then back around to the ruins of Leptis Magna, one of my favourite local ruins, haha. It was cold and brisk, and we made friends with a few puppies and some swans that tried to bite me, before having a cheeky hot dog and burger in the new cafe overlooking the water. It was really nice, but I miss how nice this place is in the spring and summer, I need some life in the trees and a bit more greenery about...

the sun through the trees - part two

There are some things that feel a little better though, like when the sun breaks from behind the grey clouds, you manage to catch the setting sun in the woods, there is a pinecone in your pocket and some twigs in your hair and everything feels alright again. Sometimes it's really good to get out and get dirty, to cake your boots in mood and run through the frozen over puddles on the ground, feeling the ice crack beneath your unsuitable trainers. You forget what date it is, when the sun gets in your eyes and you feel hot for the first time all day; and on the walk home, the bulbs your mother and father planted are poking out of the ground in the garden, there is a red kite crying, somewhere above your head; you can take a deep breath and say that you'll get through it, because you always do.

part one

the sun through the trees - part one

I find winter a hard time - despite my adoration for the all the things I dream of in a winter, like crisp frosty mornings and brisk weekend walks in the sunshine, it always turns out differently. The crisp frosty mornings are less beautiful when walking to work in the dark at 8AM or scraping the ice from your car until your fingers are blue. The sunny Saturday strolls are few and far between in January and you spend a lot more time indoors, looking out at the rain falling, with the wind trying to get in through the cracks in the house than I do out walking in the sunshine. At times like these it's hard to push through without the lure of Christmas to cheer you on, your only hope is that the solstice has passed and that the days are getting longer again, the sun is lingering that little bit more and that soon it will be spring.

part two tomorrow...