Sub-tropical gardens

At Ventnor on the Isle of Wight, nestled between sea and down, we have the Botanic Gardens, home to all kinds of exotic plants from far-away places. And a place which does a roaring trade in the export of Echium pininana to most of southern England. And for all I know, places further north.

While at Abbotsbury, tucked into the eastern end of Lyme Bay, just to the north of the Isle of Portland, we have the sub-tropical gardens. Where, I learn from reference 1, that in addition to a lot of trees they have Christmas attractions to rival those of our own Chessington Garden Centre.

Operations commenced with a visit to the churches of Long Bredy and Little Bredy, taking our picnic on a bench outside the latter. Lightly cooked baguettes from a shop in Lyme Regis - where it is a lot easier to buy pasties than bread - and cheddar cheese from Neal's Yard Dairy. Not sure now whether this particular cheese came from their branch in Covent Garden or the one next to Borough Market.

A couple of holy pictures from Long Bredy, left in the body of the church, right hidden away. Both apparently from the same shop. Probably something Victorian, but provenance otherwise unknown.

A contraption installed for the greater posterior comfort of the organist at Long Bredy. Hopefully he never singed his coat tails. Or perhaps it was a her: my father's elder sister played organ in the church of her native village, despite not being churchy in later life at all.

Outside, a curious door at the top of the tower. What is going on here?

Not clear whose mortal remains were kept in this enclosure, up against the back wall of the church yard. But clearly worth a bit of ironwork.

They seem quite keen on substantial buttresses in this part of the world. Perhaps the ground hereabouts is a bit shifty?

Moving onto more worldly matters at Little Bredy. Would you care to have an advertisement of this sort stuck onto the side of your car? It comes to mind that the late Princess of Wales was quite keen on this sort of thing. All to do with keeping her looking young and trim - to which end many are prepared to put up with all kinds of horrors. Read all about it at reference 3.

The centre of operations, all very discrete. Who knows what goes on behind the net curtains on suburban estates?

After all of which we headed off to the gardens, from where something sub-tropical is snapped above. Growing in a pot and sporting the curious name Vasconcella pubescens, aka the mountain pawpaw from the Andes. Presumably edible.

The fine view of Chesil Beach and the Isle of Portland we got by climbing to the top of the gardens. Note the wedge shape of the Isle, absence of which was complained of at reference 5.

We also had buzzards being chased about by seagulls. The presumption being that buzzards will take the chicks of seagulls, so the seagulls get into the habit of attacking the buzzards, even when there are no chicks to be taken. We were told the buzzard defence is to roll upside down and rake any seagull within reach with its claws, but I had failed to bring my monocular along and I failed to see any claws in action.

A lot of very tall trees, from home and away. Including this candidate Wellingtonia. But it was labelled and turned out to be a coastal redwood, not the same thing at all. The Sequoia sempervirens of reference 6.

Some outdoor sculpture, rather whimsical in flavour, but not as irritating and intrusive as the stuff at Wisley.

Invited to leave by a siren, a leaving routed through the shop, not very big, but stocked very much the sort of thing on offer at a national Trust place. Or perhaps Chessington Garden Centre. Notwithstanding, a good place, to be visited again when we have more time.

We ate at the Five Bells of Whitchurch Canonicorum, where the afternoon session was just winding down. I took a very reasonable chicken pie and chips. Maybe a green vegetable. On exit, the near full moon was just about visible, rising among the clouds to the east.

The church there is notable for its relics, something that our True Prot churches do not go in for much. See reference 4 for the visit.

A nightcap at the Royal Lion where I was able to admire this complicated bit of carpentry. I suspected a late nineteenth century iron pillar propping up the ancient timbers. Cased in stressed pine so that it fits in.

There was also a matching, long case clock made by one Edward Jeffery of Andover, but I have had no more success in tracing him than in tracing Mr. Smallcombe of Essex, whom I had come across in Ryde and for whom see reference 7. Perhaps in times gone by there were lots of people making clocks, very few of whom were well known or successful enough to have made it to one of the various clockmaking directories of today. By way of comparison, how many of the many tax evasion consultants active today will be visible online in 250 years' time?

PS 1: ornamental junk not a problem at all in Lyme Regis, some very old, some new and some of which is snapped at the top of this post. With the three items along the top once being the property of Kew Gardens. Did the shopkeeper know the back history?

PS 2: how does someone who dates his resignation to St. Crispin's Day and asks the Prime Minister to convey the important news of his resignation to our new monarch, get to be elected in the first place? All this is a near illegible hand-written note. Is there no end to buffoonery in high places? Is this really the sort of example we want to set to all those struggling countries pondering about whether western-style liberal democracy is really the way forward?

References

Reference 1: https://abbotsbury-tourism.co.uk/gardens/.

Reference 2: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2021/08/littlebredy.html. An earlier visit to Little Bredy.

Reference 3: http://sublimeshrewsbury.co.uk/. Turned up by Google on presentation of telephone number. Plus the snap above.

Reference 4: https://psmv4.blogspot.com/2019/02/mixed-relics.html.

Reference 5: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2022/10/shaldon.html.

Reference 6: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sequoia_sempervirens.

Reference 7: https://psmv4.blogspot.com/2019/04/antiquarian-researches.html.

Reference 8: https://psmv3.blogspot.com/2016/07/nuts-1.html. Earlier notice of St. Crispin. Where I seem to have muddled up the Battle of Hastings (where we got whopped by the French) and the Battle of Agincourt (where we whopped the French). Not to mention the Battle of Patay (when it was the turn of the French to whop us again).