The drive to Herefordshire was a great meander through middle-English market towns and soft green countryside - the autumn sunshine, when it finally arrived, made it hard to resist dreams of a rural life. So glad I made it to the garden before it is transplanted South, my only regret is not seeing it in full fig in the summer.
Perennials and shrubs aplenty were stacked in crates, root wrapped in hessian and plopped into pots - a major cache of plant material, and also a major job to prepare the ground to rehome it in at the other end. I wish Charlie Ryrie, the garden owner, the best of British with that task!
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