Well, here we are. We have finally reached the last day of our trip, and surprisingly I have the gumption to finish this blog.

Normally I start strong, then slowly get swamped before giving up on the blog altogether by the end, but this time I’ve made it!

It helps that this day is a little bit lighter on events, as I woke up this morning in the full throws of congestion from a cold. Lame.

Luckily for me and my cold, we planned this trip in early July, so the weather is fair and it’s easy to stay outside.

Today was the grand finale of our garden tour of England: Sissinghurst Gardens. My friend has informed me numerous times that you can’t claim to truly be a gardener and not make the pilgrimage to Sissinghurst, but I wonder if it works the other way as well. Now that I’ve been, I can call myself a gardener and will stop killing all of my houseplants.

Right?

We did our morning stroll to breakfast along the coast in Eastbourne, finding a cute little beach cafe with a good breakfast and excellent porch.

After breakfast it was back to traversing the tiny, windy roads to another beautiful garden formerly owned by a rich person, but now owned by the national trust.

Sissinghurst was the first place where we saw real explosions of actual flowers, although as I was going through the pics I realized that so many of the flowers are small and delicate, so the pictures really don’t do it justice.

After making the drive I was already tired and in need of a break and another dose of Sudafed, so I grabbed some soup and bread from the cafe and sat down outside while my friend started her wandering.

After a couple of minutes a woman asked if she could sit next to me, and I warned her about my cold but let her know she was welcome if she didn’t mind.

She sat at the opposite end of the table, and we started chatting. She was very sweet and was traveling alone from Cardiff to visit some family in Kent. She told me about the places she has visited, and I told her a bit about my trip. We also talked literature and linguistics, as one does when visiting the English countryside.

I was enjoying my chat so much that I had forgotten about my friend wandering the grounds alone, until I got a text wondering where I wandered off to.

Not far it turns out.

I said goodbye to my new friend, and wandered into the garden. It was so lovely.

Even looking at the pictures now, it’s not nearly as beautiful as I remember it in my mind.

Sissinghurst was bought up by a writer and her rich husband in the 1930’s. Vita planned all of the spaces in the garden, creating a true botanical oasis. Today it is one of the most famous gardens in the world, and also serves as a bit of a shrine to her and her husband.

There are many different sections of the garden, and I didn’t capture pictures of all of them, but I did get a few of my favorites.

This one is Delos garden with desert plants

This one is called the white garden, filled with white blooming and very delicate flowers.

My favorite was the walled garden, which was walled in with shrubberies in the shape of a maze.

And bursting with color

There was also a wall of beautiful Clematis (a word I learned from my friend because I know less than nothing about flowers.

I also found my favorite flower

Then we did some wandering around the tree lined lanes and moat (yes, there is a moat)

The grand finale was a trek up to the top of Vida’s writing tower (this woman had a gorgeous garden library and a separate garden writing tower. Life goals)

And just a couple more pictures at the entrance before heading on our way.

We ended up spending about four hours in the garden, but could have easily spent longer. There were walks and lanes we didn’t even find.

However, it was tea time, and we didn’t want to miss our last chance for a good cream tea.

I’m not sure if I’ve explained this already, but in the UK you have your afternoon tea which includes sandwiches, scones, and little desserts, and you’ve got cream tea which is a scone with clotted cream and jam. They are both lovely, but if you’re just wanting a snack the cream tea is the way to go.

We searched on Google for a place on the way back to Eastbourne where could get cream tea, and ended up here

You can’t really tell from the picture, but it’s a fish farm with a pretty little man made Lake and tons of waterfowl. The tea itself was fine (clotted cream and jam weren’t homemade but we’re still good) but the people were delightful and the setting was peaceful.

After that lovely interlude I was hard core crashing due to my cold. We drove straight back to our flat and napped.

We were able to briefly wake up to venture out for fish and chips at a local brewery

And one last walk along the seaside.

Then we did some packing and went to bed.

All in all, this was a fabulous trip. I’m so thankful to my friend who went with me for opening my eyes to the joy of wandering gardens, and for being up for my quirky jaunts through fields of sheep and Jane Austen fandom.

Goodnight.