Third Garden's a Charm

Monday was the day I planned to get our money’s worth out of our National Trust memberships, by visiting at least two, maybe even three National Trust properties. Unfortunately, the morning did not bode well for a pleasant day out. My walk down to the Cathedral before breakfast was more of an endurance exercise than a pleasurable walk, as I tried to fend off the rain with my hooded coat, and felt my hands turning into icicles despite my gloves. When I got back, my mother said that she’d heard it was unusually cold today! I was not surprised.

Perhaps, we speculated optimistically, the weather would improve after breakfast. As she was serving our breakfast, Holly said she had heard the afternoon would be nicer. So we had some hope.

For breakfast I ordered poached eggs with kippers. Kippers are a kind of smoked fish (herring) which are characteristically English. I had expected two or three small fish fillets, perhaps the size of sardines, so I was stunned to see a large slab of kippers on my plate with the two poached eggs. They tasted just as you'd expect—smoky, salty, and quite tasty indeed.

While we were eating Marmalade, then Clementine, appeared at the window and requested entry. Because we'd seen Holly let Marmalade in earlier, we thought it was okay to open the window again so they could come in from the cold. Luckily, there were no muddy paws today.

Marmalade seems to be much more reticent than Clementine, but the smell of kippers must have taken away his inhibitions, because he stationed himself firmly beside my chair. Quietly, I broke off small pieces of my kippers and stealthily hand-fed them to Marmalade, who accepted with alacrity and ate them with little ado. We both knew it would not be wise to call Holly's attention to this little tete-a-tete. I didn't quite finish my plate of kippers, so we slipped the leftover piece into a ziplock bag (I never travel without a good supply), to save in the upstairs refrigerator for later visits from the cats.

Then off to our ambitious schedule of visiting at least two, and possibly three, National Trust houses and gardens. First on the itinerary—Barrington Court (National Trust Barrington Court) (in the village of Barrington). Our route would take us through Glastonbury, so we easily followed the signs for the A39 from Wells toward Glastonbury. Glastonbury, for a place that sounds so mystical and mysterious, is quite a large town with a number of roundabouts though it. Luckily the roads and roundabouts were well signed and we proceeded through without incident, changing roads as the map indicated.

Well, it was almost without incident. There was one rather amazing incident that occurred along the way! As we drove along toward a town called Aller, a car coming toward us flashed its headlights. We had learned that meant to watch out for something. And sure enough, there was something to watch for! Immediately after the car passed we saw cows in the road. But not just one or two cows—it was a small herd of cows and calves trotting in our direction, and they seemed to be pickup up speed! We had stopped the car and were just sitting there, waiting to see what would happen. The cows ran toward us in something of a stampede, then, just before they reached our point in the road, suddenly stopped and turned around and headed back in the direction they had come from. We slowly followed, as did the train of cars behind us. As the cows reached a curve in the road, they met up with one or two people who were apparently in charge of them, and who managed to herd them off the road and back into a field where they belonged.

The rest of the route to Barrington was smooth, until we got to the actual turn-off to Barrington and Barrington Court, at which point we had no idea where to go next! After a couple of passes through and around, I finally turned down a road I had thought went nowhere, and voila—it led us through the village and directly on to Barrington Court.

Barrington Court is a large country manor house which was acquired by the National Trust in 1907, the first manor house to join the National Trust. This year Barrington Court is celebrating its centennial with the National Trust. The gardens at Barrington Court are large, designed in garden rooms (a popular style) and inspired by Gertrude Jekyll's garden at Sissinghurst. One of the garden rooms at Barrington Court is, of course, a white garden! A large kitchen garden supplies produce for the restaurant located on the property. The house and garden are also surrounded by acres of parkland.

We strolled through the gardens, pausing to buy raffle tickets to support the renovation of Barrington Court (hoping that we might win the grand prize of £10,000), and then went on into the house. The interior of the house is let to Stuart Interiors, a design firm that restores, renovates, and builds traditional period paneling, doors, furniture, etc., as well as selling textiles and antique furniture, and designing traditional 16th and 17th centurty interiors. The design firm has furnished Barrington Court in period fashion, and visitors to the house can enjoy the historic interior as well as have a view of what Stuart Interiors has to offer.

After our lengthy tour of Barrington Court, we headed back to the car park and onward to our next destination, Montacute House. The weather had improved decidedly since the early morning, and now the sun was out, although disappearing periodically behind rather dark clouds that threatened the possibility of rain. It was so changeable that I spent the afternoon taking off my coat when the sun came out, then instantly putting it back on as the sun disappeared again!

Montacute was only a few miles from Barrington Court, and helpful signs directed us on our way quickly. Montacute House was also located in a village bearing the same name. We turned into the long drive to the car park, and were lucky to be directed to a parking spot right next to the entrance. (When you're trying to get to three gardens in one afternoon, every little thing helps!)

Montacute House is an Elizabethan stone-built house, furnished in period style and featuring a gallery hall on the top floor filled with portraits from the National Portrait Gallery in London. Here at Montacute House we became most acutely aware that this Monday (May 28) was a Bank Holiday, that is a day when all the banks, government offices and schools are closed (but the National Trust sites are open to visitors). The house was filled with young children (and their parents) on holiday. They passed noisily through just ahead of us, chattering and giggling. Apparently historic houses are a big draw for English children—or at keast parents trying to find something to do with them on days off. Montacute welcomed children, providing a children's guide pamphlet to the house with information, quizzes and activities for the children to do as they traveled through the house. I took one of the children's guides and tried to fill in some of the questions as I walked (e.g. what is the date on the chest against the wall), but did not heed the directions to "draw a bit of the pattern of the fireplace."

There were some garden borders around the house, but most of the grounds at Montacute are sprawling parkland, planted only with lawns, trees, and shrubs. On a sunnier day (and one where we were not on a time-restricted mission), it would be lovely just to stroll about the grounds for hours, but that was not to be on this day. We took our leave of Montacute and struck out for garden number three, Tintinhull (National Trust Tintinhull Garden).

A signpost just outside of Montacute directed us on the road to Montacute. Luckily we appeared to be the only persons interested in traveling on this road, for it was extremely narrow and had very few pull-out spots along it. We did not have any problematic encounters, however, and pulled into Tintinhull some ten or fifteen minutes later.

We had arrived at our third National Trust property of the day, Tintinhull Garden, and it was indeed charming. This was a garden on a much smaller scale than either Barrington Court or Montacute's vast parklands. Tintinhull is a small manor house garden divided into seven garden "rooms" (modeled after the Hidcote tradition), divided by clipped yew hedges and walls. Though small, each garden room is serence and jewel-like, planted with colorful borders built around a decorative scheme, with lovely views from each garden to the next. The kitchen garden was





delightful, planted with vegetable just starting their summer growth, and bordered with a cheery rows of catmint.

Tintinhull House was not open for touring (although we passed through two pretty reception rooms on the way to the garden), but it is available for let through the National Trust (National Trust Cottages (Tintinhull House)). The four bedroom house overlooks the gardens and has an Aga stove in the kitchen!

We had finished our day's garden tour and it was not yet half past four. Even though we had done a lot, it didn't feel like we had bitten off more than we could chew—but we were a bit tired. We turned the car back toward Glastonbury and then onward to Wells.

Our reentry to Wells had only a little bit of a challenge as we abandoned the written directions from Beryl and decided to find our own way back through town. Our first effort was unsuccessful because we pointed ourself toward the wrong church as our landmark! Once we identified the proper Cathedral (and really, who could miss it), I easily circled around it, keeping it on my right, until I reached the intersection into St. Andrew's Road and then upward toward Hawker's Lane (the route I had walked several times already in our stay).

Before going too far up the road, we thought we might get fish and chips from a local take-out. But once again they were closed, and we had a dilemma—what to do for dinner? I said I could walk down to town to the little grocery store. For some reason, I thought I would need to park up at Beryl and then walk the mile into town. But my father cleverly suggested that we park right there on the road, then I would have a much shorter walk. (Duh!) So I left my parents in the car while I popped down the road, past the Cathedral and into Sadler's Lane, directly to the little store. I bought some Cornish pasties, rolls, cheese—and flapjack, because goodness knows we haven't had enough sweets yet—and hurried back to the car.

After visiting three public gardens, I could not leave Beryl without walking through our own gardens. Today, finally the weather had subsided enough to go outside and walk about. I strolled about the parklike grounds, taking a few pictures, and meeting up with Marmalade (probably hoping I had some more kippers on me). Then I went back inside and settled in for a final picnic tea in my parents' luxurious room. Before calling it a night, I met up with Clementine again, and invited her into my room for a secret snack of kippers. She was glad to oblige!

On Tuesday we are leaving for Bath, and I don't know what kind of internet access I will have there. I know there are a couple of internet cafes in town (I've been there before), but after having in-room internet here and on-bench internet in Chipping Campden, I don't know if I can handle the trip into town just for the internet! So we shall see—I may have limited entries until we return to London on Friday.