Nymans Garden

It was slightly overcast, and dull yesterday – the type of summer day where you think you should probably grab your umbrella rather than your sunscreen.  And that, dear reader,  seemed the perfect weather to go visit the wilds of West Sussex.

The garden began in 1890 when the the Messel family bought the 600 acre estate and Regency house.  Our journey at Nyman’s began in the National Trust shop where I went on a soap frenzy (they had so many wonderful handmade soaps) but to soften the blow of how many soaps I’d picked up I bought ice cream too.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned about raising kids is when you’re out in public never buy chocolate ice cream.  Go vanilla, the stains don’t show:

I took my own advice and had stem ginger ice cream.  After dumping coffee down my pale pink shirt I couldn’t afford chocolate stains too.

The gardens are stunning with colours and smells which make your senses dance with happiness:

And those busy little honey makers love it too:

The place is quite magical.  I could easily imagine the fairies dancing at dusk and bathing in the moonlight:

Tragically most of the house burnt down in 1947. The ruins, set against the lush gardens, look hauntingly beautiful.

Ever since I posted about Yoni and Lingam on Friday I’ve been seeing them everywhere.  I think by the end of our visit to Nymans Paul was a little fed up of my pointing out things and saying ‘doesn’t that look like a penis?’.  Well, it does.  Doesn’t it?