A Garden without a Winter
Written by Janet Fulcher and Adrian Spriddell
It's Midsummer Day in England and rain is falling. The
weather forecast for the North of the country carried an overnight frost
warning. "Oh to be in Cap D'Agde now that summer's here" we once might
have said but now...
"You two must have the best working conditions in the county', said the Securicor man after he called with an unexpected delivery one lunchtime and had to make his way round to, the rear of the building in order to find someone to sign his driver's log. He caught us as we were commencing our meal, cheese and ham with a bottle of wine, portable phone on the table to intercept any important calls, the pair of us still dripping wet from our dip in the pool. No, we're not millionaires but we do work from home with business and domestic premises on the same site and have turned something quite ordinary into a naturalist's paradise for much less than the cost of a half-decent caravan.
We visited Corsica a while back: the last year Peng had
La Chiappa available with the superior half-board option. The catering was
superb - worth two or three times what we were paying - five star cuisine at
Little Chef prices. It's sad but unsurprising that it was not on offer the
following year.
In the evenings we ate in the main restaurant but breakfast was taken alfresco in an area surrounded by wooden pillars forming a rough circle with lintels atop connecting one to another. Up this structure were trained vines and other climbing plants which trailed along and hung down from the lintels forming a living colonnade. Pots and urns containing bright red tonal pelargoniums complemented magenta bracts of bougainvillea and we tell in love with it all.
You know how it is; after a good lunch and a couple of bottles of wine, all things seem possible. So there we were, sitting on the beach, frying gently in the sun, fantasising that we could build something like it in the garden at home - the old rectangular pergola had partly collapsed the previous year and needed to be replaced anyway. We could even grow the same sub-tropical plants we reasoned. All we needed was one of those glass domes that were a feature of the film 'Silent Running' to drop over the top and "Hey Presto" - instant DIY Mediterranean.
On our return to the UK, we related the story to
various friends one of whom (a fully paid up member of the `fools rush in'
persuasion) suggested that instead of just talking, we bought ourselves a dome
and actually got on with it. In the cold light of English day it did sound daft
at first but the more we thought about it, the more the idea took shape. By the
time we hat drawn the whole thing out on paper, it had begun to look distinctly
possible.
Two months later, it was fact. We had located a company whose range of greenhouses and conservatories included several glass geodesic domes, the largest being some thirty feet in diameter. We ordered a twenty foot one, a 'Solardome 3' and started to dig a foundation trench right away. We also dug out a curved oval sixteen feet by ten and sloping from four to five feet deep. There was much speculation amongst friends as to the purpose of 'The Hole' as it became known with numerous suggestions (all wrong) being put forward. We brushed them off with an enigmatic "You'll see".
The Dome arrived looking like a cross between a painting-by-numbers set and Meccano with added gloss. Janet erected the aluminium frame one Saturday in February and I glaze) it the following day. Six pine tree trunks were sunk into the ground, lintels affixed and the central area pave) with riven slabs to accomodate some cane furniture. Compost filled gaps covered with shingle were left around each pole for direct plantings. We introduced the first plants in March, mostly in pots as we were unsure whether or not the small electric tan heater we had planned to use for winter heat would keep conditions warm enough. The reasoning was that we could move anything at risk quickly indoors, if it were potted, when adverse conditions warranted it. This turned out to he a mistake. The bougainvillea did not prosper and died in its third spring. We later found out that if it had been planted out directly, it would have stood a much better chance of survival. The plumbago, although almost hardy fared little better but two grapevines growing in the ground - a red variety called Black Corinth and a white Madresfield Court were doing really well so out of their pots and into the ground went the jasmines, pandoreas and the plumbago. A deep mauve hardenbergia now climbs the column nearest to the door and has been underplanted with a yellow rosy banksiae. These flower through from December to March, their complementary colours brightening up the dullest of days. The jasminium polyanthum blooms burst forth as the hardenbergia wanes, suffusing the air with a heady perfume. These permanent plantings were supported by a Gardena automatic watering system with drippers to maintain damp roots whilst using a minimal amount of water. A liquid fertiliser can be added in to the supply, thus giving all the plants their weekly feed in one application.
We then turned our attentions to `The Hole'. Concrete
blocks were laid on their sides to form a nine inch wall all around the
perimeter with relevant plumbing fixtures set in at intervals. After a two inch
floor and a thin render coat of concrete to the walls had set, loam underlay was
applied throughout. The Strelitzia objected to the fumes from the glue and
promptly dropped most of its leaves. We moved it to the greenhouse to recover
whilst we fitted coping stones and a pool liner. A small self-contained pump and
filter unit sits outside with all the necessary electrics to work lights in the
garden and the Dome. With some sunshine and the pool covered at night by a
thermal blanket (fancy poolspeak for blue bubble wrap) water temperatures can
reach twenty-six degrees Celsius but drop buck to twenty or so in dull weather.
So, last spring we fitted a small water heater to run on off-peak electricity,
hoping to extend the weeks that we can swim from Easter on into Autumn. In hot
weather, we have a splash maybe five times a day and the water is warm enough
(thirty degrees or so now that we have the heater) for a midnight swim. Very
relaxing after a hard evening's entertainment.
Even though our garden is quite secluded, the Dome has given us more of a private refuge.
Admittedly, the pool is usable for no more than half of the year but the Dome itself is there to be enjoyed for the full three hundred and sixty five days. We've even eaten our breakfasts there on Christmas Day! Maintenance is confined to an annual wash down of all the glass and to check and adjust the automatic window openers which control ventilation and the air temperature within.
It wasn't hard work and it didn't cost a fortune to install. Running costs for the pool are small - mostly electricity at Economy 7 tariff. The water treatments are chlorine free so keep the environment sweet for both flora and fauna.
On reflection, it's probably the best idea, daft or otherwise, that the pair of us have ever had.