Category Archives: Plants

Cyprus, December 2025 – 7

25 Sunday Jan 2026

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Friday 26th. It was beautifully sunny at breakfast-time, and while, like most, I was not hardy enough to take my meal out on the restaurant terrace, I did take a few photos there afterwards.

Well, it had started beautifully sunny.
There were nine small piles of cat food along the wall. Only three cats were feeding when I was there and two of them declined to allow me to post their photos.

Our last official day started with Andreas driving us up, up to the top of the Akamas ridge. We had seen this on our walk the day before, when we had learnt thankfully that we would not have to walk up – though we would be invited to return under our own steam. Andreas was released at this point.

The top panel says ‘Neo Chorio [our lunchtime target] 3 km’.

By now, the weather had fulfilled the promise of those post-breakfast dark clouds, threatening rain, though not quite carrying through, damp, dull and pretty gloomy. We walked for a while along a very wide and claggy forest path, our shoes heavier and heavier. At one point, I noticed that Barbara was 3 inches/7 centimetres taller than she had started out. Much foot scraping occurred.

Serpentinite, which had figured much in my geology course in 2007, and in the Cyprus geology field trip I had been on in 2009.
Hyacinthella

After a while walking along the ridge, we went back to the signpost, and our destination was now downwards, the village of Neo Chorio. A few of us had a tendency to wander on ahead, so missed the many species found by and much lingered over by the keenest botanists (there didn’t seem to be many birds around) and were told to stop and gather at various forward points on the way.

The sun was now out again, the threat of rain over for the day, and it was even getting a little warm. I was attracted by the myriad backlit sparkling rain droplets on this tree, sadly not well reproduced here.

Two of us, well ahead of the others, came across a crowd of people from another group (friendly rivals from the huge company Naturetrek to our group with the very small company, Wildlife Travel, staying at the same hotel for half of the week) peering at a bank. They kindly pointed out an orchid which we two certainly would have missed, and perhaps even our ‘lagging’ colleagues. We stood and stood and stood, waiting for them in order to ensure they saw it. The official report explains why they had been so long – they had been seeing so many things of interest to them. (I think that some of us were just about flower-brain-fogged by now, especially by so much minute detail.)

Meanwhile I tried to get a decent photo of the orchid. But despite in theory knowing how to focus my camera manually, this is the best I could do. I was not prepared to clamber up the steep bank to get nearer, and even less to risk the hasards involved in clambering down, unlike some of the more intrepid (and younger) ones when they had caught up.

Ophrys omegaifera subsp. israelitica, a subspecies of the Bee orchid.

At one point, when all together, we were instructed to continue very carefully and quietly, before reaching some ponds, so as not to disturb a rare crab. In the event, it was indifferent to our presence.

Levant Freshwater Crab Potamon potamios

Those of us suffering from mammal starvation were delighted to see these,

and this baby donkey was, I’m sure, the most photographed creature of the day.

After what seemed a very long walk indeed, not least because of all the stops, we arrived at the village centre, where we sat down to enjoy a very copious meze meal at a taverna, which had opened especially for us. This was no light lunch!

View from taverna

After lunch, the choice was a walk of several kilometres downhill, with more botanising, etc, back to the hotel, or a taxi. Three of us chose the latter. All took a short walk though the village to the church, where the taxi would meet us.

Cyprus did not gain independence from the UK until 1960

A group photo taken there is in the album of fantastic photos taken by Sarah, to which I will provide a link at the end of the last post in this series.

We three headed for the hotel bar on return to take delayed post-prandial beverages.

I wandered round the extensive hotel grounds for the first time.

The explanation for the chapel is here.

Now, that’s a yucca!

Well content with my stroll (and occasional sits on the well-placed seats) I went back to my room and took photos from its north-facing terrace: to the east,

and towards the setting sun in the west.

Despite the very large meal we had had a few hours earlier, we managed to fit in an excellent dinner.

Strictly the trip was due to finish after breakfast the following day, but, for most of us, our flights were timed for the evening, so there is a short eighth and final chapter to come…

Cyprus, December 2025 – 5

19 Monday Jan 2026

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Wednesday 24th. Very pleasant weather all day, who would have believed it was Christmas Eve?

Not so far to travel today. First we stopped in the local town, Polis (Polis Chrysochou to give it its full name), to admire a Very Old Oak. Touristically called locally the Magic Oak, it was a:

It was huge! Impossible to get it all in one view, unless one went a long way away, having crossed a very busy road, which we didn’t.

Leader Sarah showed us fallen acorns, to prove that, whatever its leaf shape, this tree was indeed an oak.

Best of all was just standing under it and looking up.

We moved on to Pegia Forest (about half way down and a little inland on the map). I had been regretting that on this lovely day we were to be spending time in a forest, but I had not envisaged this airy space.

We spent the morning being guided around this large area. The cognoscenti were well pleased, and I was well pleased to be with them. (By the way, the last post in this series will hopefully contain links to the formal trip report, including the names of all the species, animate and other, that we saw, and to an album of more than 250 amazing photos taken by joint leader Sarah.

Autumn flowering buttercup
Hyacinthella millingenii
Autumn lady’s tresses
Lichen: Cladonia foliacea
Pistacia terebenthus
Romulea tempskyana

All these – and much, much more of interest – were in one small area, near where driver Andreas had dropped us. We moved on to examine the edges of a rather sticky forest path, and in due course some rock pools.

Snake-eyed lacertid lizard
Common darter
Monk’s cowl

I did not venture onto the rocks, fearing for both my balance and my ankles.

I’m pretty sure that it is Paul, inveterate rock-turner, in the distance.

Phil, joint official leader, came back from his expedition to the other side of the rocks with this photo of a tarantula. There had been a whole colony of them. This variety was not dangerous, they said.

(I found it interesting how many of my companions used phones to take very close-up pictures of, particularly, plants, with no settings to be worried about, as far as I could see.)

We arrived at a picnic area, a little early for lunch, but sat and refreshed ourselves for a while – it was by now quite hot. Andreas later said that the following day, 25th December, it would be absolutely packed with locals.

We found this Troodos (‘Troh-ohdos’) lizard on the low perimeter wall. It posed beautifully for photos.

We followed another wide forest path for perhaps half a mile…

Crown anemone

… to a viewpoint on a cliff edge.

Most ate their picnic lunches (provided by the hotel) here. I couldn’t find anywhere to sit comfortably, short of dangling my legs over the cliff edge which I didn’t fancy, so I made my way back to the picnic area, finding that fellow traveller Wendy had returned there some time earlier. We ate companiably, and I chatted with Andreas, who had by now brought the minibus here, for a short while. “What do you do all the time you’re hanging around for us, Andreas?” “TikTok – but there’s no internet here!”

In due course, Andreas drove us to the coast, to the small town of Agios Georgios – St George – where our next visit was meant to be to:

– but it was closed.

We were encouraged to visit the eponymous church, which I found much more beautiful on the outside than the inside.

No dragon for England’s patron saint …

With, now, time to spare, we took advantage of a café on the very sunny square, overlooking the small harbour. Ice-creams were the favourite refreshment.

In the very far distance was spotted a blue rock thrush. (I daren’t crop and enlarge this photo any more – it will become even fuzzier.)

Down at the harbour, we observed a Roman necropolis.

But the main purpose of our being there was to search for Aphrodite’s dandelion, with no certainty of finding it. We (they, to great excitement) did! Taraxacum aphrogenes, also known as the Pafos dandelion, is unique to Cyprus, and to the Pafos district.

Paul was turning stones again, and found a crab.

Rock samphire

The sun was falling fast, as we went on to the beach, and looked back.

We came across a rather unattractive pool with artificially created banks (the camera has lightened the image) …

… but just to be perceived was a common sandpiper, who couldn’t care less about the aesthetics of its situation.

Time to go home. The sun has now set.

Cyprus, December 2025 – 4

15 Thursday Jan 2026

Posted by in Cats, Countryside views, Photography, Plants, Wildlife

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Tuesday, 23rd. We were back to the Pafos area today, to Mandria, along the coast to the south east of the city, and then Ayia Varvara, inland from there. (Both are shown on the map in the first blog in this series.) But first we stopped again at yesterday’s bakery to buy lunch. Instead of buying one of their delicious pasties, my indulgence at the hotel at breakfasts and dinners had been such that I thought it sensible to buy a salad this time. The portion was nevertheless copious. Under the impression that we would be returning once more in the week, I intended to take a photo there, but we didn’t. Here, however, is its website, which shows that it has several other outlets.

Mandria Beach is clearly popular in the season.

Today we saw scarcely a soul as we meandered along the coastline.

Sea rocket
Hottentot fig
Crested lark
Female stonechat
A kestrel posed for a long time…
… until it didn’t
Skylark

I enjoyed textural views on either side of the path.

After about a mile, we walked back to where we’d started, and used the chairs and tables of a beach bar, closed for the winter, to eat our lunches.

Eastern Bath White butterfly
Lucerne

Ayia Varvara (Saint Barbara) is an inland village, where we wandered along the side of a series of ponds managed for agricultural irrigation.

Red-veined darter dragonfly
Clump of eucalyptus trees

Paul spent much of his time turning over stones. He found many things of interest for us that way. “See the gecko?” “No, where is it?!” “On the stone by the millipedes.” “Er…”

Eastern bent-toed gecko

The books say it is delicately coloured. This was a very muddy gecko!

White wagtail

A threatening sky caused us to walk quite hastily back to the minibus.

Fortunately the rain held off long enough for most of the party to get off for a few minutes, on a road beside the Pafos sewage treatment works, where useful ornithological observations were made.

A very heavy rainstorm accompanied us for most of the hour-long drive back to our hotel.

Cyprus, December 2025 – 1

06 Tuesday Jan 2026

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Sunday, 21st. Eleven of the fourteen of us had arrived the day before, on four different flights, at Paphos/Pafos Airport, and one at Larnaka, and had reached by minibus and taxi the Aphrodite Beach Hotel, a few kilometres west of Polis, just beyond Latsi/Latchi, in the northwest of the island of Cyprus, on the Akamas Pensinsula. (What a headache for Wildlife Travel, the company organising it all!) I was the last to arrive, around 10 pm local time, two hours ahead of GMT. The four-and-a-half-hour flight had been tiring, but not nearly as much as had conversation with the voluble and strongly-accented driver for the best part of an hour. He had already made two similar journeys with others of the party earlier in the day. As I settled down for a late dinner with the main body of the group, who had arrived not long before me by minibus, I felt a little unsociable, needing to recover from the intense concentration my taxi trip had required.

I had in fact been in the Polis area before. In April 2009 I had been with the Open University Geological Society on a week’s field trip. We had stayed near Limassol on the south coast, and ventured mainly into the Troodos (pronounced Troh-ohdos) Mountains. I had stayed on, hired a car and spent two or three nights somewhere in the Polis area – can’t remember where – and then driven on to Nicosia where I had passed another two nights. Despite hundreds of (unlabelled) photos, I had only hazy memories of the stay, (I didn’t start this blog for another six years) except that I had much enjoyed walking the paths in brilliant sunshine and Goldilocks-right temperature.

We knew that Sunday’s weather did not augur well as we sat off on foot along the road westwards, to see what we could see. The company was two leaders, Phil, wildlife generalist and in overall charge, and Sarah, botanist extraordinaire. The 12 ‘guests’ were a couple, Paul and Barbara, (who had arrived in Cyprus three days earlier, and who would be returning to Bristol Airport a week later on the same flight as I would), one other man, and nine other women including me All, we agreed, were there to indulge our enjoyment of wildlife and nature, and to escape Christmas. All, as usual on these trips, had much greater wildlife knowledge than I did.

After an introductory session after breakfast on Sunday morning, (I should note that the food at the hotel was superb, including vegetarian) we set off on foot for the day. So we thought.

Everywhere we went there was ripe citrus fruit.

As usual I took many photos, but of only a small sample of what we/the others saw, and only a few of those are included in these posts The rains (it was green everywhere) had come late, so flowering was in arrears, as we learnt from Sarah. I tried to take notes whenever I took a photo. If a flower is not labelled hereafter, it’s because I failed to do so, or it’s obvious.

Musky storksbill
(Of the mint family)
This pretty snail was less than a centimetre in diameter.
Distant kestrel

We were walking westwards along the main road, parallel to the sea . I looked back

Phil picked up the discarded exuvia – shedded external skeleton – of a cicada.

Like citrus, olive trees were everywhere.

The main road wasn’t exactly busy. (They drive on the left in Cyprus, a British legacy.)

We were making for a taverna where we would have coffee. I was straggling a bit, though Phil and a couple of others were behind me. This man was at the small gate of his house and invited me in. I protested politely that I couldn’t, I was part of a group. Phil caught up and said it was OK, joining me and a couple of others from the party. He had done this trip several times before.

It was quite dark inside, on a day that was becoming darker. (From the forecast, we had anticipated that the weather that day was to be the worst of our stay.) The man’s house, in which we stayed only a minute or two, was full of his collected oddities.

A turtle shell and cooking pans

The taverna was, predictably, named after Aphrodite, ‘Greek goddess of love, beauty and desire’, as we were nearing her alleged bathing place. We settled in covered outdoor seating but soon moved indoors as a blustery and rather chilly wind soon came up. While we were enjoying our coffees, (mine was a chilled cappuccino), it started pouring with rain, which caused us to stay perhaps rather longer than intended.

When it stopped we went on a hundred metres or so.

I had been here in 2009, but the walls and gates were clearly new. I was delighted to find this map, which showed the Aphrodite walk and the Adonis walk. I had done one of them in Spring 2009, but can’t remember which.

We made for the baths – what a disappointment! (This photo is not in black and white.)

It had looked like this 17 years earlier, in April.

Then it started to rain again, a full and enduring thunderstorm. No chance of exploring the botanical garden; we just made for shelter. After a while we decided to eat our packed lunches there.

After several “Let’s just wait ten minutes more”s from Phil, we decided to rush back to the taverna to wait it out there and to take further refreshment. I was not allowed to put my brolly up, because of the lightning.

Once in the warm, Paul and Barbara, the couple who had arrived a day or so earlier, suddenly remembered that there was a bus which could take us back along the road to the hotel, and that it was due to arrive in 20 minutes’ time. The taverna kindly allowed us to shelter meanwhile in their covered outside area.

This had been the view from it two hours earlier, Troodos Mountains in the background.

This was it now.

The bus arrived, at this its terminus, after ten minutes. We made a dash for it. (It’s not easy taking a photo when you’re running.)

We were happy to await the remaining ten minutes before departure in the dry and warm.

The driver kindly deposited us at the gate of the hotel, rather than 100 metres along the road at the official stop, and one of the hotel’s many cats greeted us at the door.

I have no idea how I passed the rest of the afternoon, except that it was in my very pleasant room. Listening to podcasts perhaps, reading, perusing photos. At 6.30 we all gathered in the bar to complete our log of nature, animate and inanimate, seen that day, using a checklist provided in advance by Wildlife Travel.

This cat was on a chair needed by a human being in the circle we made, so I gently lifted her up, speaking nicely to her, and she stayed on my lap for the next hour until I had to abandon her to go into dinner. (Two days later, I felt very privileged when she actually jumped up onto my lap during our ‘log’ session, and stayed there likewise until I had to move.) I felt a bit guilty, thinking of my three in their cattery.

Wherever you go in Cyprus there are well cared for cats – and I can’t resist taking pictures of them…

Tree walk in Wells

19 Sunday Oct 2025

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A few days ago I went on an organised Tree Walk in Wells, under the auspices of the Wells Environmental Network. It was led by Matt Witt, who more frequently leads such walks in my own home town, so I must look into that. Matt describes himself as a poet, artist and tree lover. During the course of the walk he treated us to the recital of two relevant poems, one of them dating from the 16th century, translated from the Polish.

What follows is not a definitive guide to the trees! If I had not had gloves on, and had had a notebook with me, I would have made more notes. Should anyone, especially Matt, (who did ask to see my photos!) wish to correct or add anything to what I have written, please do so in comments, and I will amend the original text as necessary. Moreover, my camera found itself pointing leftwards towards the walls of the Bishop’s Palace, on which I have blogged before, almost more than it did to the subjects of the outing.

It was grey day, but autumn colour brightened things up considerably. Walkers were to meet at the gate to the Palace, where it was fun to see the trained swans ringing the bell for food. The youngsters are learning, though one – there’s always one – is not paying any attention.

The walk mainly took place along the SW and SE walls and moat of the Palace. The group continued to Tor Hill Woods, but I had to leave early.

As we set off, to our left were Norway maples.

A short diversion into the Wells Recreation Ground revealed a row of plane trees, of decreasing girth, for which there could be various explanations.

Matt pointed out the differences between the leaves of Norway maple (left) and plane. I remembered that I had a Norway maple in my garden in France. I do hope that my purchasers respected it.

A Western redcedar, thuya plicata – except that it is not a cedar but a cupressus, one of many examples Matt gave us of confusing and conflicting denominations of trees between the UK and the US.

Another tree very definitely not a native. This is a Dawn Redwood, or Water Fir, whose name, including in Latin, I have only been able to recover thanks to my tree book. Metasequoia glyptostroboides, believed to have been extinct for millions of years, until 1941, when100 large specimens were found in China. This one was planted probably about 40 years ago. (My tree book – 1981 – says ‘Because the tree is a recent introduction [to the UK] …. few specimens are yet old enough to bear flowers and cones’. Well, here some flowers, 44 years on! The entry also says that, while the tree does well in England, the climate in Scotland is too cool for it to grow well. I wonder if that is still the case?*)

Matt pointed out the smooth bark of the beech, and someone commented that it was a shame that its very smoothness encouraged graffiti.

In an adjacent field to the east was this brave survivor of Dutch elm disease. (Sorry, that’s a bit anthropomorphic.)

We spent quite a while at this lime, with its characteristically drooping branches.

And my camera was still pulling me towards the moat.

The ivy on the near wall was very near to flowering.

Another disease afflicting British trees, its onset more recent than that attacking elms, is ash die-back. In addition the ash tends to lose its leaves early, so this tree looked rather sad, having lost not only many leaves but several branches.

There is no path along the eastern wall of the Palace gardens. We went straight on.

The trunk of this beech is not smooth. Matt explained that it had for long years had barbed wire attached to indicate a boundary. That barbarous (sorry – that’s me, not Matt!) practice has now been discontinued.

It was time for me to leave the group as it reached the road to reach Tor Hill Woods, and I turned back. I had noticed this mosaic on the way, and took a moment or two to examine it further. It is the Worminster Dragon Mosaic.

My camera continued to pull moatwards, and particularly to draw my attention to reflections.

Parent swans seem to look in anticipation at the bellpull.

I dallied little at the market as I made my way back to my car.

Yes, I must look into tree walks in Glastonbury.

*An internet search says there are some, but not necessarily doing very well.

Slape Manor, Netherbury, Dorset – Part 1

29 Monday Sep 2025

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Last week, I made my latest National Garden Scheme visit. From the requested contribution, 50% more than I had ever encountered under the scheme before, I knew it was going to be a grand one. When I arrived, after an hour’s drive, I was informed that I had just missed a guided tour – I did not know that there would be any. I might catch it up, or the next one would be in 70 minutes’ time. I decided just to wander around on my own.

Visitors were allowed to take photos, but were asked to avoid taking any of the house (not open to visitors – this is a garden scheme after all). The house was magnificent, as this link to it’s property details from 2017 shows. (They reveal that Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall’s original River Cottage was in the grounds.) The description of the land, though, is out of date. For instance, the swimming pool has gone. The present owners took the property over in 2020, and are in the process of rewilding, and are, as far as I can see, prime movers in West Dorset Wilding.

I knew none of that detail as I went round. Despite avoiding views of any part of the house (the grounds were so huge that that was not difficult) I still managed to take 140 photos. Deleting duffs and being rigorous has got the number down to about 100, but rather than forcing myself to omit more of them, this account will be in three parts. The pictures are in the order I took them, as I wandered through woodland, parkland, a kitchen garden and a few small flower beds. I started at the west side of the house and followed – broadly – a huge U-shaped wander round the grounds. The river flowing through the grounds is the Brit (sic) named for, rather than naming, the nearby town of Bridport.

It was a calm and sunlit afternoon, just after the autumn equinox, affording shadows and contrasting light – and I scarcely saw a soul as I strolled. I hope that any readers may experience some of the joy that I felt.

And I finish this first part with a short video, more for its sound than its image.

Part 2 Part 3

‘A Somerset Safari’

21 Sunday Sep 2025

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This was the name of the tour organised three days ago by The Newt in Somerset, (about which I have blogged many times), in glorious weather while other parts of the UK were being buffeted by strong winds and heavy rain.

We were greeted at 9.30 at the Cyder Bar with coffee and very sticky cinnamon buns. Tom, the Newt’s entomologist, greeted us and led us first to this temporary display of plants, in the shape of a newt, from The Newt’s Karoo Garden display at this year’s Chelsea Flower Show, of which they have been sponsors for the last few years. These plants are to go on sale very shortly – I shall hope to buy three of them. The rest of the exhibit will be housed in a geodesic dome, yet to be built. I learned this time that it will be in the Deer Park area.

Tom led as towards the kitchen garden.

To reach it we went under the tunnel where every year are grown a variety of gourds. Now is the time to see them, and here are a few!

The kitchen garden did not look itself! Here was a tent, set up for the harvest celebrations which were to happen over the coming weekend.

Tom had set up a moth trap just inside the kitchen garden the previous evening, but he feared that the lights from the tent would have discouraged the moths from entering it and that it might be empty. Sadly he was right.

He told us about Hügelkultur,

and here was an example of the ridged cultivation.

I already knew that the reason the South African billionaire had bought this enormous estate from the Hobhouse family 12 years ago was his huge admiration for the work of nurse Emily Hobhouse in the Boer War over a century previously. I knew also that the discovery of Great Crested Newts had delayed its development by 18 months and had led him to name the property ironically after the creature. But I did not know that it was to have been called the Emily Estate, or that the kitchen garden had formerly been a lake, and that it was here that the said newts had been found. Nor that the very natural-looking lake down the hill had been created to house those newts. That said there are still newts in the tamed pond in the kitchen garden.

And it looked mighty odd to see one of those ponds under canvas!

I had never before seen this insect hotel. It has been there for a couple of years, but I had not walked along that particular path.

Our group of about a dozen included a little three-year-old girl. I confess to having been very dubious at the outset about the suitability of such a young person being on this three-hour tour. But she did fabulously, leaving with her father only 30 minutes early, and now brought this to show Tom!

He excused himself from being able to identify exactly which this was of the 40+ UK species of slug on the grounds that, while he was gradually developing from being an entomologist into an ecologist, slugs were not insects! That said he was very interesting on the general subject.

More gourds…

… and an amazing one – about one foot/30 centimetres in diameter.

I just adore begonias, whether the leaf-interest or the mainly flower-interest ones.

Temporary harvest-time visitor.

It was to the Parabola next, and its hundreds of varieties of apple. I have taken many photos of this in other posts, and this post is very long, so I’ll not say much here. But I did learn that, as I had wondered many times before, there being some 40 counties of the UK delineated and labelled here, each really does display its own cultivars.

Moreover, Tom invited us to pick and take away as many apples as we wanted, and to tell our friends the same. The gardeners were going to have to pick all those left shortly, and they were not going to be used by The Newt. Despite having a glut in my own garden I did take one large one from ‘Gloucestershire’, and have today enjoyed it baked.

As we returned to the Cyder Bar area, I looked back over the Parabola.

We moved out of the way of an approaching small bus.

I was amused at its ancient Roman insignia, Senatus Poplulusque Romanus. Presumably the bus is used to take people from there along to the Roman Villa!

What I hadn’t realised was that it had arrived to take us through confined part of the Deer Park, where it was too dangerous at this time of rutting to be near the Red Deer (not that we saw any).

We were being taken to the Red Squirrel Enclosure. Whaaaat?!

Just eight days earlier three young female red squirrels had arrived, captive-born from Wildwood in Kent. The enclosure – the design of which had involved Tom – had been swept of grey squirrels, an American import about 150 years ago, which had done so much harm as the carrier of a disease which did not affect them but did kill reds. For now the three were in a pen, getting used to their surroundings. In due course they would be released into their wider area, but never into the park as a whole, because of those greys. Visits by the public would be on an accompanied basis. We were the very first to see them and must be very quiet. The three-year-old was brilliant.

I wanted to know the length of the perimeter fence – I’m sure Tom would have known – but I had already been asking far more than my fair share of questions, so I kept stumm. I would guess around 500 metres.

And there they were, sunning themselves,

one moving on to show off her shadow.

As we moved back, Tom pointed out some hedgehog houses. It is not normally allowed for hedgehogs to be kept in captivity, but these were 11 congenitally blind females, who would not have survived in the wild. They had come from a hedgehog rescue society. One female may have arrived pregnant. It would be fascinating to know, if so, whether her hoglets were blind as well.

After a visit to the Marl Pits,

and its stumpery,

we made our way to the main woodland area, seeing on the way part of the Deer Park and the squirrel compound. The road along which we had been driven can just be seen, along with the edge of the compound.

At the other end of the wood was a steep climb – and hundreds of fallen green crab-apples.

We made our way back round a familiar path, not stopping much now as time was moving on,

but a visit to the wyvern was obligatory, as was a photo.

A higher view of the kitchen garden’s temporary dressing, and our visit was over, a good time had by all, with many thanks to Tom.

I took a few photos of the plants lining the pathway back to the car park,

not missing, as I had on the way in, these temporary celebrants of the harvest at the entrance.

Some in the group had not visited The Newt before. Two were celebrating their third wedding anniversary, and two were on their way from Norfolk to a holiday on the south coast and had stayed in the area the night before. It seems they were impressed but what they had seen – and there was much more for a future visit. Indeed, every time I go there is something new, if only a change of season.

Topping up Tintinhull

29 Friday Aug 2025

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My friend Mary having visited Somerset a fortnight previously, my cousin Mary did so a couple of days ago. I planned the same programme for each, although this time we were going to have to keep a close eye on our watches, since we would have 90 minutes less for this visit. Not really a worry I thought, since friend Mary and I had spent such a lot of the time supping and gassing. Cousin Mary and I would just need a little more discipline.

In the event those plans were completely uprooted and upended! The first change was that I had booked lunch elsewhere, view the somewhat disappointing experience two weeks previously. Then, when Mary’s train arrived and we should have been going to the National Trust garden at Tintinhull, it was tipping down with rain, rendering any outdoor experience impossible. So we stayed on at Castle Cary station for an hour, taking coffee at The Creamery. *

That was to be peak rain, according to the forecast, which turned out to be accurate. The weather was somewhat better as we moved on for our already reserved late lunch, and was even better when we left there at around 3.00 pm. However, the risk of showers continued to be ever present, and indeed we caught one as we drove to Tintinhull. (Any thought of visiting the Yeovil Country Park, open all hours of the day and night, had had to be abandoned.)

When we got to the the National Trust garden, we found we had only 30 minutes before it would close, 4pm! Fortunately: it is only small; Mary had visited it once before; and it was sunny!

I did not have my camera with me, not only because of the forecast weather, but because of my so recent previous visit. But somehow my phone found its way into my hands and insisted on taking some pictures, mainly details that had not featured in my blog post two weeks ago.

Mary is a keen gardener, with RHS training, and could name all these plants – but I didn’t make notes.

We drove back to Castle Cary, to the town centre this time, and at the George had the cuppa and cake we had planned for Tintinhull, before returning to the station for Mary’s return train to London.

“The best laid schemes o’ mice an’ men… ” (as Burns really wrote). 

* “The original ‘Milk Factory’ was erected by brothers, G&C Prideaux, in 1912. Local farmers would deliver churns of milk to be made into cheese at the factory, which would be transported to the newly accessible London market via the railway line. The height of ‘La Belle Epoque’, it was an era of industrial invention, intellectual and artistic creativity and global wanderlust. Travelling the world was a thrilling new possibility and the reimagined building has multiple references to this ‘Golden Age of Travel’. The restored Creamery keeps the year 1912 firmly in mind, with a new brick extension matching the detailing of the original factory. The design celebrates a rich history of handling milk products, with modern cheesemaking returned to the heart of the building.”

Hestercombe 2024

02 Monday Sep 2024

Posted by in Countryside views, Geology, Photography, Plants

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I’ve blogged before about Hestercombe Gardens. That was in March 2022. The gardens are very different in late summer. I was there again last week with my cousin Mary, visiting from Croydon. This time I didn’t go off piste.

After a coffee, we explored the formal gardens, that is, the Lutyens/Jekyll Edwardian “Great Plat”, and the Victorian Terrace. Having had some lunch we went through the Orangery, past the Chinese Gate, and through to the long narrow landscaped area, where sadly the Great Cascade was no longer cascading. We were told that it dried up some months ago, possibly because of badger interference with the feeding system. Repairs are in hand.

I took few photos in the afternoon. I only had my phone available, and am not entirely pleased with either the texture or the colours of these pictures, but they serve as a record anyway.

Entering the Victorian garden

There is an immense amount of beautiful stonework at Hestercombe, most of it from quarries on site. The main stone is Morte Slate – the name of a slate, sandstone and gritstone formation rather than a description – as I found from a booklet, ‘The Stones of Hestercombe’, I’d long had, forgotten, and reread once I got home. It was as well that I had not reread it beforehand, because I might have bored Mary a great deal as we wandered around. As it as, we did come across the quarry – still worked from time to time – in the afternoon.

The daisy-like Erigeron is also to be found everywhere.
The Chinese Gate

We (I) chose the lower path to follow the waterway northwards, so this photo of the ‘Mausoleum’ is at an odd angle. On reflection It might have been more interesting for Mary, on this her first, but hopefully not last, visit here, had we taken the upper route, as it would have brought us closer to some of the various follies.

Sybil’s Temple, one of the most recent features of the gardens to be restored
Hestercombe is situated on the Quantock HIlls; to the south can be seen the Blackdowns.