I made it there and back in one piece. I drove in to park at work, near the Ritz, then hopped on the tube. Everyone who was coming out of the Flower Show looked at me with my wheelbarrow and laughed. Everyone going in to the Flower Show looked enviously at me... We had to queue until 3:30pm. There was a false start, which was a little frustrating, but when we were in a very nice steward on the turnstile helped me lift the wheelbarrow over.
Spotted: James Alexander-Sinclair walking past me within 10 seconds of me getting through the gate, muttering something about a wheelbarrow. Were you off to get your own, James?
I worried that I was going to be really disappointed, because I hadn't done my research very well. The Encephalartos horridus from City of Durban was just the leaves, and all the proteas at Kirstenbosch were cut flowers. Then half the stand at Desert To Jungle had been sold already (I was told the "T Rex" had been sold within two hours of the show opening though, so I don't feel too bad).
But then the longer I was there, after the bell was rung, the more bargains I saw. Basically as everyone went for the big blousy flowers, the ferns were exposed. So I have half a dozen of the little buggers. The smaller show gardens were excellent places to stop for a bargain, and I didn't pay more than £10 for anything. The show gardens were also pretty happy to give away free plants with any purchase!
Wish "Tempest In A Teacup" had been giving away plants though.
So I left, less than £100 out of pocket, and managed to walk to Sloane Square. Halfway up the road there was a guy taking photos of people with their purchases, and he asked me to pose. I obliged, although I have no clue where this will end up - he wasn't overly keen to answer that question. I figure, though, that it's probably some kind of art exhibit. Because if he's taking photos of sweaty, baggy-jeans-wearing, cowboy-hat-donning, sulky women with wheelbarrows for his own personal pleasure then he is to be pitied...
At Sloane Square, however, I couldn't face trying to get Birnam Wood onto the District Line, so I hopped in a black cab with the nicest cabbie ever (who got a very big tip when he dropped me off at the office).
I'm knackered, so potting up will have to wait for tomorrow (I did water everything well when I got home though). And photos will follow. Now I have an appointment with a large Baileys and the Eurovision Song Contest...
Spotted: James Alexander-Sinclair walking past me within 10 seconds of me getting through the gate, muttering something about a wheelbarrow. Were you off to get your own, James?
I worried that I was going to be really disappointed, because I hadn't done my research very well. The Encephalartos horridus from City of Durban was just the leaves, and all the proteas at Kirstenbosch were cut flowers. Then half the stand at Desert To Jungle had been sold already (I was told the "T Rex" had been sold within two hours of the show opening though, so I don't feel too bad).
But then the longer I was there, after the bell was rung, the more bargains I saw. Basically as everyone went for the big blousy flowers, the ferns were exposed. So I have half a dozen of the little buggers. The smaller show gardens were excellent places to stop for a bargain, and I didn't pay more than £10 for anything. The show gardens were also pretty happy to give away free plants with any purchase!
Wish "Tempest In A Teacup" had been giving away plants though.
So I left, less than £100 out of pocket, and managed to walk to Sloane Square. Halfway up the road there was a guy taking photos of people with their purchases, and he asked me to pose. I obliged, although I have no clue where this will end up - he wasn't overly keen to answer that question. I figure, though, that it's probably some kind of art exhibit. Because if he's taking photos of sweaty, baggy-jeans-wearing, cowboy-hat-donning, sulky women with wheelbarrows for his own personal pleasure then he is to be pitied...
At Sloane Square, however, I couldn't face trying to get Birnam Wood onto the District Line, so I hopped in a black cab with the nicest cabbie ever (who got a very big tip when he dropped me off at the office).
I'm knackered, so potting up will have to wait for tomorrow (I did water everything well when I got home though). And photos will follow. Now I have an appointment with a large Baileys and the Eurovision Song Contest...
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