1. We set off after achieving a fine enough breakfast in College this morning, prepared by a cute bit of rough diamond who no doubt pleases the Masters with his repartee and charming culinary skills. Cambridge is filled with unreasonably beautiful Colleges and equally incredible and irresistible totty. We read the Sunday papers, and drank coffee in Nero’s and walked across the Bridge of Sighs at St John’s College. We reached The Backs and admired the young punters as they progressed their charges up and down the Cam. The sun shone, people sparkled with happiness and silliness, children scampered about and the occasional graduate walked past in full gownage. (It was graduation weekend in Cambridge). All felt very well with the world. My hangover was receding and the prospect of adventure on the homeward journey beckoned. 
On the way north we detoured to Wing in Rutland for an emotional hat-tipping from Allan for the site that he worked on for his Doctoral Thesis. Also in the village there was an extraordinary turf maze which dates back to Medieval times and is said to have been used by penitents, following the path of the maze on their hands and knees repeating begging prayers presumably hoping for forgiveness. Thankfully there was none of that for us but simply the joy of retreading some steps from the past…
2. Barnsdale was Geoff Hamilton’s television garden during his supreme reign on Gardener’s World in the mid 1980’s until he passed away. It was a complete surprise for me to find myself turning into his garden. Allan had planned this element of our weekend and kept it a secret to surprise me. He knew quite exactly how Mr H had been an inspiration and the object of love and admiration to me. I to this day moisten in a happy way when I think about him. I’m hoping that there are other people who feel the same way. Our visit to his gardens was a bit like a spiritual horticultural pilgrimage and as if on cue, when we arrived there was Mr H’s delightful DNA clone, smiling, handsome as hell just like his father, and greeting us warmly. The gardens are a series of little rooms, many of which I know so well from happy times watching Geoff on television and reading his books. The best, for me was the Artisan Cottage Garden and especially the home-made obelisk with its ballcock sphere atop and painted duck-egg blue. I made one too…it still lives in my little garden in Sussex. It was a happy time especially then but even more today for the kindness of Allan’s gift of this visit.3. This evening I find myself in a fancy hotel near Barnsdale Gardens. I had local darne of fresh water trout on a bed of the most delicious colcannon. This is a gorgeous mashed potato and cabbage thing that comes I guess from Ireland. Mine had pepper and spring onions, it was just perfect with the fish. I'm going to make this with left-overs back in York at the next possible occasion and it may therefore have to have a second beautiful entry in this silly bloggett.
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