An English Honeymoon: Day VI

Before heading all the way to Richmond from Kensington Square on the morning of our sixth day in England, I wrote a quick note to Sadie Lavender, my friends' (Camille and Tyler) little girl who is about three years old now. I bought the postcard at a cheap tourist shop, but I thought she'd like the picture of the old red telephone booth. We walked to the post office and mailed it:

After this and I assume grabbing some breakfast (I don't remember now), we headed to Kew Gardens. This was a day I had been waiting for. I had read about Kew before from a few different places. Notably, Virginia Woolf's book titled Kew Gardens, of which you can find my review here: https://feliciareviewsbooks.blogspot.com/2019/03/kew-gardens-by-virginia-woolf-published.html

I was very excited to see one of the most renowned botanic gardens of all time, particularly because it boasts the most diverse plant life in all the world. We took a bus there, one of those big ones, a double decker, and we almost flew out of our seats a few times, the driver driving a bit haphazardly down narrow city roads, slowly turning into narrow rural(ish) roads. We finally were dropped off at Richmond Park, which we made note to visit again later in the week. We walked past Richmond Park along with small families with babies and toddlers, amazed at the beautiful houses across the way. Did I mention that it was another perfect day? It was warm, with just a slight, very cool breeze coming in now and again, a bit of bluish grey in the sky, but no rain. I loved this walk and wished to live in England forever. Every house was well-tended to. Nothing looked manicured, as lawns and gardens do in the U.S., everything just looked naturally cared for... it's hard to explain. It wasn't sterile like the houses in the U.S. sometimes look. Here are some pictures I took of English roses we found growing around English homes:

And so we walked, following the families towards one of the entrances to Kew. We entered through some back entryway. There weren't too many people there and as soon as I entered I knew I was in for a truly enchanting time among natural wonders, especially old, old, old trees. 

I couldn't help but plop myself down next to this wizened tree and pose for a photograph. I was so happy we had made it inside this amazing place... one of my favorite things is laughing when no joke has been made and laughing not out of spite or disbelief but out of sheer joy. It's one of those great gifts that doesn't come often.

We continued along the pathway, more like a well-groomed dirt walkway, nothing separating us from the growth on either side. We kept to ourselves, admiring the colors, namely greens of all shades. We breathed heavy and with happy sighs. Sighs of some sort of relief. Soon we found the enormous greenhouses.

Palms and flowers and potted pretty things with just enough bits of color, glass and stone smoothed so much it seemed soft to the touch, murmurs of voices of all ages, and heat, heat that crept up on you, slowly. Hardly any wind until you walked past great big spinning fans. There were benches of steel or some other metal with intricate designs, painted white, like those found chipped at old ice cream shops. I began to feel giddy. Baby angels carved lovingly out of stone, their wings supporting the sentience held carefully within.

I forgot to mention, before we went into the greenhouses I had some rosé... and I was really getting a bit warm and giddy with all the sensory immersion. It probably didn't help that I wore a wool dress underneath my coat. I had some time for a picture before I started to feel just a little dizzy and disoriented. Thirsty.

We drank all the water we had kept in my bag. As I started to feel dehydrated and dizzy, Dan and I went outside so I could sit on a bench and get some fresh air. However, there wasn't a water fountain near us, so Dan had to go find the closest one. I couldn't walk (I knew I couldn't unless I wanted to fall over, I've had these kinds of dizzy spells before where I found myself in fetal position on the ground for pushing myself too far), so he left me at the bench alone and went to find a place to buy a bottle of water. Despite feeling all this, I was still super happy. I could've died right then and I would've been OK with that. But I didn't. I waited patiently, breathing in and out, slowing my breathing, watching people pass by. Five minutes passed, ten, fifteen, twenty. Still I waited. When I finally had enough energy and balance I stood up and examined the stairway path that was drawing my eye. It was beautiful. It reminded me of some painting I found once. 

I do believe I am in heaven, I remember thinking to myself. Then I got weak again and sat down. Some twenty minutes later, Dan came back, all in a fluster and red and ruddy and sweating, and passed me the water bottle urgently. 

"There was a line! I'm sorry. I couldn't do anything about it! And the place to get the water was so far away!" 

I laughed and said it was no big deal. Things like this tend to worry Dan a lot and make him nervous, so he sat for a while until I convinced him I was OK to keep going. When his anxiety (which I caused) subsided, we both stood up and went back into the greenhouses, our bodies newly hydrated. An artist named Dale Chihuly's work was on display all over Kew, and I especially like this picture I took of one piece while in the greenhouse:

After exploring the greenhouses a little while longer, we went back outside and maybe got something to eat? We probably did. Oh, man. In whatever the case the order of things happened, one thing to note is that the ice cream at Kew is the BEST. Dan found a station where people were waiting to take a tram. 

"The tram? You really want to take the tram?"  I whined.

And of course he did. Dan's obsessed with trams. I think there's more to it than just wanting to rest and sit. I think perhaps he's worried that we won't get to see as much as we'd like in bigger, open spaces, so he likes to be able to just glance at them and know they are there - which of course trams, with their professional tour guides, help us do.

So here's some "waiting for the tram" photos... I love the twists and turns of the tree trunks and the glittering sunlight that kept appearing every so often... diamonds without form surrounding us every which way. 

I was so glad we decided to take the tram (oops, I mean I was so glad he forced me to take the tram), which dropped us off by what used to be a royal cottage. Rather, we decided to exit the tram and explore that specific area. And around here, what we saw was truly out of a fairy tale. 

If I were fey, this is where I'd play, in the whispering meadows of delicate botany, with their incomprehensible symbols as shapes and signs as patterns, ringlets around bases of the biggest, boldest wooden evergreens, graceful droplets of shadow and light wrapping around itself and opening out into some unfathomable netherworld of trust and care. 

We went to the royal cottage (what a phrase!), walked within its walls seeped in the mystery of history, and walked out, imagining gorgeous horse's hooves and horse smells and horse sounds. 

We came to a clearing with a lake, where an annoying tourist kept talking to us about how to get the proper picture. She wasn't so much annoying because of the mindless talking, but more because she was trampling on the outskirts of the lake to crouch down and photograph... I think toads or frogs. Yes, one of those. Dan and I could see them popping up in the lagoon. There wasn't a pathway in sight, so each time she stepped in we could hear the crunch and mushing of the plants under her weight. We politely ignored her (this is an art form).

We found a peacock a little later on, one which I swear went to modeling school, so vogue was she in her poses. We were really close, too, and she didn't mind. I think... she. Not sure.

We made our way back to the entrance, taking in every second and vision that came with.

And I found some Ents. For real, look at the face on one of them. I said hello, thanking them all for their protective energy that we took into our spirits that day. 

Lastly, we made our way, somewhat sadly, outside of the garden premises. I wish we could've stayed there forever.

- F