It's show time. Which means it's party time

Blogging wasn't supposed to be like this. When I started my blog, two years ago, I'd envisaged sitting alone in my attic, the computer keys tapping out a lonely staccato message as the light of a pitiless moon slanted in through the broken skylight.

Instead, it's been party, party, party.

A couple of weeks ago, there was the Meet@Malvern get-together at the Malvern Show.

This week, it was the Chelsea Flower Show, which means serious partying interspersed with frantic bursts of real work.

I was at the press day for Chelsea on Monday, which is always a fantastic bash, filled with celebs and camera crews and free champagne and gardening journalists to gossip to. This year was made even better by glorious sunshine. Of course, being British, we all complained it was far too hot, and stood around ostentatiously fanning ourselves.

Unfortunately, while everyone else was swigging back the Laurent-Perrier, I got a call from work asking to me to file asap for the following day's paper. You can read the results here and here. So forgive me if I just stick to brief captions.

Designer Mark Gregory, who won three gold medals, with chef Jamie Oliver. Mark designed the Children's Society garden, which was conceived as a teenage space with gazebo, plunge pool and pizza oven. Jamie was cooking pizza in it and very good it was too. (I had some.) Mark won a gold for his Children's Society garden, and his company Landform also built the Tourism Malaysia garden designed by James Wong, and the Music on the Moors garden designed by Christina Williams. I don't think anyone's ever won so many medals in one go before.

Lovely Carol Klein at work with the horrible BBC, who spend the whole of press day amusing themselves by taking up vast amounts of space around the exhibits and pushing print journalists like me out of the way. As I passed this stand, they asked me to keep back and not take photographs. Naturally, I took absolutely no notice whatsoever.

Thomas Hoblyn's garden for Foreign and Colonial Investments. I'd seen this during build-up and wondered how they were going to incorporate the Yucca rostrata into the design, as it's quite a difficult colour. I thought the finished planting worked well - I liked the combination of the rusty red with the pale blue foliage. So it really didn't need a naked dancer popping up in the middle of it as far as I was concerned ...

...but of course, some people think that's the sort of thing you have to do at Chelsea to get the photographers' attention. By the time I'd left Chelsea, I never wanted to see - or hear- this garden again. All morning long, they had stunts of one kind or another, usually involving attractive young women and invariably accompanied by deafening music.

Let's look at some gold-medal winners. Above is James Wong's garden for Tourism Malaysia, using plants that are either native to the region, or cultivars derived from native species. It had a sense of serenity and simplicity, yet gave you that feeling of wanting to keep on looking at it that always seems to mark out a good garden at Chelsea.

The best in show. Andy Sturgeon's design for the Daily Telegraph, and a worthy winner. I loved the way he picked up the rust of the pillars with the verbascum and irises, and the mixture of formal straight lines with billowing plants. He also seemed to have thought about where the light was going to hit the garden, as the sun seemed naturally to spotlight the focal points.

Another peaceful oasis by Robert Myers for Cancer Research. The theme of the garden was 'Enlighten' and the designer has played with light and shade, making the transition from the white birches and underplanting to a central seating area surrounded by pink and blue flowers.

I secretly wished he'd kept the white theme going all the way through.

Tom Stuart-Smith for Laurent-Perrier. Most people agreed that if Best in Show hadn't gone to Andy Sturgeon, this would have nabbed the prize. My photograph doesn't do it justice. I want those box balls!

Fashion designer Paul Smith being photographed alongside the Sri Lanka exhibit. Why? Heaven knows.

Can you see what it is yet? Yes, it's Rolf Harris, national treasure and a hero in our family thanks to his series Animal Hospital. Bless.

Naturalist David Bellamy in full flow for some radio station or other.

Another bloggers' convention. Gardening journalist Helen Yemm talking to The Fat Gardener, who was on the Ethel Gloves stand.

A diversion to Chelsea

I was going to tell you all about Great Dixter, wasn't I? Well, I will, when I get a minute. I've been busy this week, because as well as my day job (night job, actually; I've been night-editing, which means working from 5pm to 12.30am), I've been moonlighting (or rather daylighting) at Chelsea, writing a preview piece which is in today's Independent. You can read it here.

So do forgive me if I'm a little incoherent with fatigue. I'm going back to Chelsea on press day (Monday) so I'll do a longer post about it then. In the meantime, here are some pictures to whet your appetites.

If you'd like to read a much more detailed preview, go over to Veg Plotting, where VP is discussing the latest trends, and the Eden Project show garden, Places of Change.

James Wong's garden for Tourism Malaysia - a fabulous tropical design inspired by lush rainforests

Vibrant dahlias on the Winchester Growers stand in the Great Pavilion. There's something about dahlias that makes them difficult to photograph in all their blazing glory. Or maybe it's just me..

Heucheraholics' display. They'd just started to build this, but I loved the glowing roof of Heuchera 'Sweet Tea'. Can't wait to see the finished exhibit.

Mark Gregory's garden for The Children's Society, which is designed to be a teenage hang-out, complete with plunge pool, firepit and pizza oven, where Jamie Oliver will be cooking pizza on press day. I know my kids would absolutely love it - and it's great to see something designed for older children to enjoy.

London: the Sissinghurst Sisterhood

On the way home from Malvern with Gail and Frances, the weather improved a bit and the forecast for the following day was quite good - cold, but sunny. I'd originally thought of taking the Tennessee Two to Wisley and Hampton Court Palace, since at both these places there is plenty to do under cover.

Emboldened by the weather forecast, however, I decided to be a bit more adventurous and take them to Sissinghurst and Great Dixter.

Now, call me stupid, but I have often arrived at Sissinghurst - a two-hour drive from London - to find that it is shut. It shuts mid-week, so I've learned to check and double-check whether it is open on the day I intend to go there. I rang, they were open.

I rang Great Dixter. They were shut. Horrors! Were they normally closed on a Monday, I asked the nice lady who answered the phone? No, she said, they were having a study day. Couldn't we just sneak in, I asked? No, absolutely out of the question, she said.

I told her I was a journalist from The Independent and I was showing two Americans the most important English gardens. We wouldn't be there until late afternoon, I said, and we promised faithfully to keep quiet and out of everybody's way. She said she'd have a word with Fergus Garrett, the head gardener. After two heart-stopping minutes, she came back on the line. We could come!

(I'd never normally do this kind of name-dropping for myself. But Frances had said it was her favourite English garden, so how could I let her down?)

Seven miles apart, Sissinghurst and Dixter have some superficial similarities - they are both restorations of existing buildings, they are both set in the Kentish Weald (similar to the German wald, meaning woods or forest), and they are both the product of a personal, passionate vision. Both use yew hedges to enclose a series of "rooms" and both have come to epitomise English gardening at its finest.

But they are incredibly different in spirit. Sissinghurst suffers slightly from the fact that it is so popular - it is difficult to take a photograph of anything without anyone in the shot. Some people are considerate, and move out of the way, but others (like the couple eating their picnic lunch at the table under the white wisteria-clad pergola in the White Garden) are not. There is always very much the sense that it is a showplace.

We had a very odd encounter at Sissinghurst. On the way into the estate, Gail had asked me how I pronounced the English name Philippa. (The whole weekend had been one long exchange of pronunciations. It wasn't so much a case of two nations divided by a common language as two nations differing over the use of the long and short 'a').

I told her, then she said: "Do I mean Philippa? You know the Scottish actress, what's her name, Law." "Oh yes," I said, "you mean Phyllida Law."

There was a farmer's market at Sissinghurst that day and as we were browsing among the jams and pies and cheeses, a very elegant lady with a chignon came and stood beside me to sample some chutney. She looked vaguely familiar, so I sneaked a second look. It was Phyllida Law. She was with her daughter, the actress Sophie Thompson.

The Cottage Garden at Sissinghurst, which blazes with a vibrant colour scheme of red, yellow and orange. At this time of year, the starring roles are taken by wallflowers and tulips. Later in the summer, there are dahlias, kniphofia and crocosmia.

The Nuttery, underplanted with spring flowers, including white bluebells and epimediums. In Vita Sackville-West's day it was planted with primroses and polyanthus

The Lime Walk. This is the most formal and least cottagey of the Sissinghurst gardens and it was the pet project of Harold Nicolson, Vita Sackville-West's husband. The limes are pleached and he used to like to prune them himself, which unnerved his wife, especially as he fell off the ladder a couple of times. Planted in 1932, it is now impossible to tell where the branches of one tree end and the next begin.

The Moat Walk, above, is planted with yellow azaleas and bluebells. The Orchard, below, to the right of the Moat Walk, features apple trees, and ornamental cherries given to the Nicolsons by Captain Collingwood Ingram, known as 'Cherry' Ingram.

I can think of nothing nicer than to visit a garden in the company of other enthusiasts. For me, visiting Sissinghurst with Gail and Frances was a joy. My knowledge of plants is not extensive - I usually know about things that I like or grow. But Frances's knowledge is encyclopaedic. She pointed out the veratrum, below, which I had never seen before. I consoled myself with the thought that Vita Sackville-West might not have recognised it either - it's not mentioned in the plant index of Anne Scott-James's book on Sissinghurst, which was written in 1974.

This was intended to be a post about Sissinghurst and Great Dixter, but I've rambled on for so long I think Great Dixter will have to have a post to itself.

Malvern: the long goodbye

Sunday morning at Malvern dawned clear and cold. Yay, sunshine! We were supposed to vacate the Lighthouse by 11am, but needless to say we were still sitting around the table talking at 12.30pm.

Reluctantly, we dragged ourselves away - VP and Yolanda heading for Bristol airport and me heading for London with Gail and Frances, dropping Ewa at the station in Great Malvern on the way. Considering we hadn't met before that weekend, it was ridiculously difficult to say goodbye. There were lots of hugs.

Gail and Frances and I felt even worse when we dropped Ewa at the station. She looked so lonely waiting for her train. We were slightly distracted, though, by the station itself (below) which has to be one of the prettiest I have ever seen.

Here's Ewa waiting for her train. While I was taking this photograph, I suddenly noticed that each of the columns supporting the platform canopy had a different design at the top. Some had flowers, some had leaves. Very appropriate for a station used by garden bloggers.


And then there were three of us - me, Frances and Gail. I'd hoped to break the journey with a visit to Mill Dene but it was shut (more about UK garden opening times in the next post ...). So instead we headed for Batsford Arboretum, at Moreton-in-Marsh, in the heart of the Cotswolds.

Batsford is interesting not only for its trees but also because it is the former home of the Mitford family, who lived there from 1916 to 1919. It is Batsford that features in Nancy Mitford's books as Alconleigh, the home of the eccentric Radlett family.

I'd chosen to visit Batsford for the usual three reasons - it offered interesting planting, a nursery and somewhere to have tea and cake. The draw at this time of year was supposed to be the blossom (magnolias and ornamental cherries) but as you can see from the pictures, it was a great time to see the maples.

Here's a golden-leaved maple against a huge blazing bonfire of a copper beech. Below is Acer pseudoplatanus 'Brilliantissimum'. The name says it all.

Malvern: the show

You may find this difficult to believe, but I didn't spend all my time gossiping with other bloggers at the Malvern show. No, no, not at all - I spent quite a lot of time looking at the exhibits. And quite a lot of time eating sausage sandwiches, drinking cups of tea and trying to ignore the fact that the weather was absolutely awful. It was cold, wet and deeply miserable.
I arrived at the show with VP and instantly dragged her off, against her better judgement, to the Floral Marquee. "Much better to go later," she said, resisting my arm-tugging, "when it's not so crowded." "But it's under cover," I said. "Good point," she said.
We both had severe attacks of what I'm going to call Malvernitis. Patientgardener has already posted about the phenomenon, and it goes like this. You see fabulous plant on nursery stand. You go ooh or aah (depending on personality/gender). You think it is just the thing for non-existent blank space in your garden. You look to see if said plant is for sale. You find it is not. You ask nice friendly nursery person if they have one. They say no, they have sold out. This is because (in VP's case) Carol Klein has been on Gardeners' World the night before and named whatever it is you want as her Plant of the Show. You mutter a rude word.
I also suffered an attack of Flower Show Amnesia. Emerging finally from the Floral Marquee, I said proudly to VP: "I didn't buy anything!" "Yes, you did," she spluttered, "you ordered some tulips from Bloms Bulbs!" Oh yes, so I did ...
The Floral Marquee was my favourite part of the show. There were just so many wonderful exhibits. I went back another couple of times, and I was still seeing new things on the third circuit. These are the plants or exhibits that caught my eye:

Giant Turkish rocket from Rebekah's Vegetable Seed, above, and their stand, below

A black-leaved dandelion on the Cotswold Garden Flowers stand (Taraxacum rubrifolium, I think). I thought it would be a wonderful prank to have some in the lawn on my open day ("Goodness, what is that weed?" "That's not a weed! Surely you recognises the very rare Taraxacum rubrifolium?") I also rather coveted the rheum, below, which is 'Hadspen Crimson'. Rheums were big at the show. Very big...

This conifer nursery, Owens Bros, had won a gold medal for their display, which I thought was absolutely exquisite. I think it would have converted even the most die-hard conifer-hater. The photograph probably makes it look bigger than it was - the stand was about the size of a large dining room table.

So what did I buy? I bought a little acer, 'Orange Dream'. I'd wanted 'Autumn Moon' but it was quite expensive (£25) so I settled for the cheaper one instead. I have an 'Orange Dream' in my garden already, so I know it's quite reliable and easy.

When I went back to collect it, Rob and his business partner Liam came with me, so I ended up not only picking up my acer, but was also persuaded into buying a dwarf larch from Owens Bros and a Tetrapanax papyrifera 'Rex' that Rob spotted on the Cotswold Garden Flowers stand.

Memo to self: must never go in Floral Marquee with Rob and Liam again.

Malvern: The Sorority House

My first sight of Gail and Frances was when I caught sight of them waving at me in the Design For Living Theatre tent. "Goodness," I thought. "I know Americans are friendly, but that's so nice that they recognised me."

I rushed over to say hello, and to ask which was Gail and which was Frances. They looked at me in a rather bemused fashion. "Who are you?" they demanded. They'd been waving at VP, who - unknown to me - had been standing right behind me watching the show.

Behind them, in the next row, two other women smiled tentatively at me. Yolanda and Ewa! VP came over to join us and thus my sorority house weekend began.

The show we had been watching was about chickens, and involved Joe Swift, Cleve West and James Alexander-Sinclair - otherwise known, according to the compere, as the loud one, the smouldering one and the posh one. They were talking to a chicken expert, which involved holding chickens and, if you were Cleve, having them poo down your leg. I never realised chickens did such big poos. I thought they laid pellets that were then neatly packed into tubs ready for sale in garden centres.

I'd arrived quite late at Malvern - around 5pm - as I'd been working late the previous night on the UK general election coverage. I only had time to have a quick peek as I passed the various exhibits but I was thrilled by what I saw. School gardens, designer gardens, a floral marquee and loads and loads of things to buy.

The show closed at 6pm, and people were hungry, tired and cold so we headed off to the Sorority House (aka the Lighthouse). Everyone was raving about how lovely it was and I wasn't disappointed. It smelt gorgeous too - a lovely woody smell - and thanks to the solid fuel stove, it was warm and cosy inside. There was plenty of room in the big kitchen to sit round the table and talk. This was just as well, because that was what we did most of the time.

Patient Gardener was our host that evening, so we all headed over to her house with contributions of food and drink (and in my case, seedlings). You could tell it was a garden blogging party though, as most people headed straight outside rather than towards the wine bottles.

I've seen pictures of PG's garden many times on her blog, but of course it looked slightly different in real life. It looked fantastic, in fact, with wonderful colour contrasts and the most incredibly healthy-looking plants.

I was very envious of PG's tulips, above, and I loved the combination of apricot tulips, below, and the soft dusty blue of the rosemary

There were old friends and new faces at the party: Zoe, Anna, Karen, Karen's sister-in-law Dobby, Lia, Elizabethm, Michelle. I was dying to meet everyone but was slightly overcome by the amazingness of it all. I'd be introduced to someone and find myself standing staring at them in a rather gormless fashion because I was just so entranced by the idea of putting faces to names. So if you were there, and I didn't get time to talk to you or seemed remarkably stupid, many apologies.

Victoria: What are you all looking at?

Yolanda: We're not looking at anything. We're sunbathing.

Victoria: Aha.

Gail: Have you never seen turtles on a log?