Right at the end of summer, in that last week of August, when talk turns to new school terms and folk start to go on about Autumn; you know, that time when the garden is just about to burst with colour and dance its last tango, we left the country. For a month.
It’s OK. The tomatoes were under the care and attention of Jill Shaddock. Carole down the hill was to help herself to dahlias each day. And George the joiner/master craftsman was on with building the much-anticipated photo shed. We weren’t needed.
After 25 years of being married, in spite of a couple of our friends betting good money it wouldn’t last, we decided to take a break. I’d imagined Venice; rolling in on the Orient Express after a week looking at cypress trees and a Tuscan landscape. Or, at least, that’s what my 28-year old self had once imagined. But plans are for fools and nowhere in the tea leaves of my younger life did I read of blind dogs or climate change. So, we went to Scotland instead.
Taking the best bits of the late-summer garden in two buckets, a couple of fancy ceramic cups to be filled, a whole bag full of books, a basket for a picnic, a bit of embroidery (yes, my new relaxing evening pastime will provide many free gifts) and the camera, I was all set. Well, truth be told, my car was full of urns, bowls, plinths and rattling buckets and Mr Simply and the dog went separately, because this wasn’t a whole month off work. Which small business owner can do that? It was September and there was the Cambo class.
Cambo 2024 was as magical as ever. Maybe even more magical, because we were the luckiest we’ve ever been with the weather. Some superb work was done by all of the guests and, for the first time ever, love was in the air. Or, as Fiona from the garden team observed, “How exciting. You’ve got a couple on this year’s class”. And, after a summer of speculation, John from Grown Made was forced to admit that he and Julia (to be pronounced Hoolia) have in fact found love amongst the polytunnels whilst growing and picking the best pink zinnias in Cheshire this year. Keen to keep her from going back to Barcelona, I suggested a quick ‘elopement’-style wedding and he whipped up an exceptionally beautiful bouquet but really, you shouldn’t rush into these things should you? Me and Mr Simply didn’t make it to 25 years without me first having weighed up whether he could cook a decent meal and supply cups of tea on demand. So instead they opted for a romantic night by the sea at Elie, overlooking the beach and Lady Janet’s Tower. Julia draped the walls of the van with olive green linen and John added fairy lights and scattered rose petals. You think I’m kidding but I’m not.
Talking of weddings, I’ve said before that in terms of ‘statement’ pieces for your wedding flowers, antique urns will always be at the top of my list. Two absolute ‘belters’ were created this year by Julie Cook from Ochre Botanicals and Jenny from Wildwood Floral Design.
The Cambo Autumn class has been through several iterations over these last eight years. It started as a country house retreat, with guests staying in what I call the ‘big’ house (aka Cambo Country House). Over three days we’d find ourselves hosting breakfast, foraging, teaching, sweeping, taking photos, making cocktails, and taxi-ing guests to the airport and train station. Covid intervened and that year the only class permitted was an outdoor one-to-one, which gave me an idea for a slightly easier way of life. Now guests can choose to come for one, two or three days, making the class affordable for more people. The local area along the Fife coastline has so many options for accommodation that each guest chooses their own. Every day guests come into the garden, taking in the dappled light down the driveway (something the Japanese call Komorebi), perhaps selecting a few pink elder branches en route, and they are encouraged to simply take their lead from the garden and to make something that evokes the spirit of the place as they see it. Gentle guidance is available if needed, all of the necessary accoutrements are supplied, and photographic memories are created. If you need the co-ordinates of an essential brown leaf or a gestural grass or a wander to the sea for a pebble it’s all there for you.
In Julie’s urn, which was carried majestically around the walled garden to find the very best light for a photograph, is the elder. It’s no coincidence that elder makes the very best wands. It’s the most magical foliage there is during the month of September, and this year I’ve watched the Fife foraging options turn from a pale lime green through the palest of pinks into what’s now a deep jammy raspberry colour. One more gust of wind and it’ll all be gone but Julie Cook got it at the perfectly pink stage from a newly discovered spot down by the river. Three good branches are all you need for the best urn. Sorry, you’ve heard that before!
Above urn by Julie Cook of juliecookflowers.co.uk/ochrebotanicalstudios.co.uk
Jenny was mesmerised by the golden grass in the potager. It’s had the same effect on many of us. Given that Autumn is her favourite colour palette, I think I’d be right to say that she found the process of making an urn in the sunlit quietness of the stable yard a pretty uplifting experience. The rest of the uplift was left to me, as I shifted the masterpiece and a plinth around the Prairie Garden to be photographed in the 3pm golden light.
Above urn by Jenny Douglas of wildwoodfloraldesign.net
Julia chose the solitude of the glass house with its wall of scented sweet peas in which to make her bowl. This year’s Cambo bowls, with a whisper of pink, were made by potter Borja Moranta, who just so happens to be from Barcelona, like Julia. Poetic. And indeed what she made, from tomato vines, trailing peas, tiny wild strawberries and sunflowers, was pronounced to be a ‘poem’ by Sue in Rugby. If Sue says your work is a poem then you’ve really accomplished something.
Above bowl by Julia Figorola @juliaysusflores
On the final day, once the guests had left, I found myself alone in the studio, deciding on compost, and buckets of flowers for the garden team and just borrowing a couple of Schipper’s Bronze dahlias from Jenny’s urn for my 2024 Cambo bouquet, held firmly this year by Elise.
Also firmly secured are some dates for the diary for Cambo classes next year. They are: Winter – February 17th; Summer – June 24th; Autumn – September 8th, 9th and 10th. As they say on all the most dubious sounding adverts, early booking is advised. Or, as I say, if a Cambo class is on your wish list, don’t leave it too late because my buckets don’t hold water forever.
And so to the ‘trip of a lifetime’. The special silver wedding holiday I’ve been planning whilst reading Conde Nast at the hairdressers for the last, shall we say,10 years. I’ve watched my roots get gradually greyer with more added blonde highlights to distract the eye and in that hour of ‘spare’ time my own eyes have made a careful study of Places To Stay in Britain. It was in that glossy magazine that I first came across a place called Lundies House. What captured my attention was a mural in the dining room by Claire Basler. You’re right, other places do have them, but those other places aren’t surrounded by Scottish countryside. There’s nothing I love more than those wide open spaces where the soft brown undulating land meets vast skies. Skies that change with the weather. Skies that can provide you with more colour inspiration than you’ll ever need. Land that smells as fresh as the air you’re breathing. And maybe ….a beach with pebbles.
Also, those other places aren’t so accommodating to small dogs and I’d bet more good money they don’t send you back after dinner with a tiny pot of the finest steak, labelled ‘doggy’ with one of those label makers I’ve wanted since childhood, with the embossed typewriting. I’d also be willing to bet that those other places don’t have staff who love ceramics and art and who understand that you might just want to look inside the glass cupboard to see the extra ‘wild’ bit of secret painting in there, with the poppies and the bright blue cornflowers.
Whilst Venice last weekend was soaked in torrential rain, as Central Europe saw late summer storms of scary proportions, the very top of Scotland, in the county of Sutherland, experienced an Indian summer. Cloudless skies of sapphire blue above calm seas and mirrored lochs. Empty beaches of white sand edged in….bracken. I know, almost as surreal as the inside of the glass cupboard. We’ve watched the bracken this whole month, and we’ve had the pleasure of seeing it turn from a sea of green into a carpet of rust. Ready for Autumn and more of life’s tea leaves.
Useful links:
Cambo Gardens: www.cambogardens.org
Cambo House: www.camboestate.com
Lundies House: www.lundies.scot
Claire Basler: www.clairebasler.com
Borja Moronta: wwwborjamoronta.com
