NOTES from. near and far // August outings

Returning from the paradisiacal vistas of Greece to the not so beatific home repairs in Forest Gate, weekends in West Country Wiltshire and Somerset provided a much-needed drip-feed of nature respite.

Hauser & Wirth, Somerset

I’ve wanted to visit Hauser and Wirth for years, having been introduced to the work of Dutch garden designer and nurseryman, and New Perennial pioneer Piet Oudolf through his collaboration with architect Peter Zumthor for the Serpentine Pavilion 2011. Somehow it’s taken almost 10 years to get here since it opened in 2015, despite my friend Brigid asking me to come and stay with her in nearby Frome countless times. This summer, she invited our friend Jen to look after her house and dog for the weekend, in her new abode of Nunney, which deserves a whole article of its own. From there we headed out for a walk through the hedgerow-lined, wildflower green fields of Pilton, from where we reminisced about this year’s Glastonbury Festival, the Swan Circle stones and skeleton framework of the Pyramid Stage just visible in valley below, the mythical secret underground Piano Bar tucked away in a copse now on this side of the fence, playing to an audience of horsetails (Equisetum). On the way to this magical corner of Somerset, we popped into Hauser & Wirth for just long enough to perambulate the Oudolf Field lying behind the main gallery and providing the perfect foil for the white egg-shaped Radic Pavilion (the Serpentine Pavilion from 2014, transported here in 2015 as one of the inaugural exhibits). Where to begin with Piet Oudolf’s planting of this trailblazer of a perennial meadow, using large drifts of flowers and grasses to create a loose, blousy, kaleidoscope of colour and texture, reined in by the formal layout including gravel pathways and low circular grass mounds. The pond was an unexpected feature, full of sedges and waterlilies, reminding me of the pond we left at our old house. Every garden needs a pond for the watery effect but also the wildlife. Walking back through Paul McCarthy’s colourful and perverse ‘White Snow Dwarves’, into the organic produce-laden Durslade Farm Shop, and then back out to see David Zink Yi’s open-air stainless steel replicas of Washingtonia robusta palms, Frank West’s huge white Lemur Heads and giant pink egg Autostat, the whole experience was the perfect heady shot of nature and art.

Stoney Littleton Long Barrow

Despite being invited to a 75th birthday party of someone we’d never met the night before (this is Nunney, but also maybe gatecrashing at its finest?) and dancing the night away with the hosts, we were up and out the next day to visit another local mythological site at Stoney Littleton. You need a car to get there (of a lift from someone with a car), then it’s a short walk over the bridge and up the hill via three stiles to view one of the country’s finest examples of a Neolithic chambered tomb. Dating from about 3500 BC, there are 13 metres of narrow passageway inside although we only ventured in about a metre or so because things can get pretty claustrophobic in there for anyone less than a cave explorer. Long barrows are traditionally trapezoid in shape and designed to be seen from a distance, hence the large mound of earth rather than a dug out tomb. This one has a dry stone wall retainer and is some 30 metres long, with three pairs of small burial chambers and a larger one at the end. When first excavated it was found to contain the bones and ashes of several men, women, and children, perhaps three generations of local farmers. From the barrow, we walked through more fields to another village beyond, traversing bogged out patches of fava beans and the most incredible abandoned orchard of apples, medlars, and plums. Walking is so good for the soul and even more so with good friends. A drink at a nearby pub finished off the day nicely before heading back to Nunney and then back to London that evening via a train to Paddington and the Elizabeth Line. From a Neolithic barrow to Forest Gate in just over two hours. If you want to get out into the wilderness sometimes, you can.

The Compasses Inn, Tisbury

This is the third year we’ve been to Wiltshire over the summer holidays to spend time with old friends and our tribes. In the day we go for walks through the beautiful rolling hills of Sutton Manderville, one of which leads to a quaint country pub called The Compasses Inn at Lower Chicksgrove, Tisbury. We tried to eat there last year but arrived too late, hungry and thirsty after a swimming through a heatwave. At least there were picnic tables outside in the herb-filled front garden, and the owner took pity on us and sent out some cokes. This year it was less hot, easier to scamper through a path cut through long clover and so we reached there on time. Burgers and chips and simple salads were eaten among the fennel, rosemary, and calendula that pervades what I guess is a beer garden of sorts, although it feels much more like a herb garden to me. Perhaps they are one and the same. Inside the pub is dark, as befits the thatched cottage in which it is housed, crying out for autumnal cider sipping around an open fire. We ate our fill and then headed back up the hill, past hazel hedgerows, and the saucer-sized dahlias and crisping strawflowers of Kensons Flower Farm, an organic vegetable and flower patch. Up the road from our friend’s home is also Messums Wiltshire, a thatched gallery and arts centre with a garden full of sculptures and wildflowers, with a restaurant and coffeehouse at weekends. Blessed with sunshine and good times, it was hard to come home again.