summer | Life in the English Cotswolds

What is it in human nature that always makes us long for the exact opposite of what we are getting at that moment? I wouldn’t go so far as to say that I’m constantly wishing for something different for I’m pretty easy-going – well I think so, anyway 😊 But over the last few days I’ve heard myself saying “if only…” a lot more often than is usual.

Until Brexit changed our outlook somewhat, as a nation we were brought up to believe that talking politics (or religion) was taboo, it wasn’t something to discuss even amongst close friends or family. It was always said that the reason for not doing so was to avoid offending anyone. I think that may just have been an assumption and that the real reason for not talking about these things is because we Brits are always taking about the weather. There’s no time left to discuss anything else. One of the certainties in an uncertain world is that in the UK the weather will never be the same two days running. Now even that certainty has been take away from us for we have been suffering from high temperatures and prolonged drought.

*Wildfire – a little too close to home for comfort. (We’re ok!)*

I have extended family scattered all over the world and as a child lived in a house where foreign accents and languages were frequently heard for not all of our visitors spoke English. One of the phrases that was a constant, for we lived in the countryside, was how green our landscape was. Those that came from more tropical climes couldn’t believe how cool our summers were either. This year they would feel more at home for our fields and woods are tinder dry and our grass parched and brown. It is for this reason that I have been saying “if only…” As a relief from the arid conditions, I have decided to write about cooler, wetter times not because I really want it to snow in August but so that we had some images to look at to remind us that, unlike many other places, our drought and oppressive heat is unlikely to last very long in comparison. If it helps to make me feel slightly less grumpy about our present state, then so much the better.

*View from our garden in a normal year – nice and green!*

“If only it was colder” – to wake up at the break of day to cloudless skies and sunshine is, to put it frankly, un-British. There’s nothing worse than to lie in bed overheating only to find no relief when you get up. Give me a crisp, frosty morning any day, when the sky is blue, the air cold and our little river shimmering, not in a heat-haze but a cold-haze. Of course, in reality, our winters aren’t like that very often. Far too often the days are grey and gloomy but I’m highly unlikely to say “if only…” about one of those.

*A rare day when it’s bitterly cold but sunny – just how I like it!*

“If only it would snow” – I love the white stuff even though it does make life more difficult. Whether the drifts are across the road or not, we have to be out in it to attend to our horses for they need feeding and watering whatever the weather. Snow in southern England is a very hit or miss affair and we have had none for the last few years. Only once in the past twenty years of living in the secret valley have I had snow deep enough to ski on and it is a great source of pride and pleasure that I managed it even once. There is nothing like clipping on a pair of skis and swishing through a landscape that has been silenced by snow. The photos below were taken some years ago – just looking at them makes me feel pleasantly cool.

“If only it would rain” – these words are almost never spoken in this island nation for rain is constantly being blown inland on a south-westerly from off the Atlantic Ocean. However, at the moment, it is rain we need more than anything. Our garden plants are shrivelling, the winter corn cannot be sown for the ground is rock hard. And as inferred to earlier, we miss our green grass, our wildflowers and the verdancy of our woodlands. The last couple of days the forecasters have been telling us that rain is on its way and that it will be torrential when it arrives. So far, we have had three light showers lasting just a couple of minutes. What we need is two weeks or more of gentle, refreshing rain. Whether we get it we shall have to wait and see. Our valley looks rather splendid when it is flood but I don’t really think we should wish for that.

*Our little house sits high above the river so flooding isn’t a problem*

*It’s sometimes hard to imagine that the little river can flood so much*

There is one more “if only…” that I know I shall be saying before long and that is “if only it would go back to that lovely summer weather we were having.” Some people are just never satisfied!

The statement “I have been living in a Pineapple” may give cause for surprise but is, in fact, quite true for I have just returned from a brief trip to Scotland. To stay in a building that puts a smile on your face whenever you catch a glimpse of it ought to be on everyone’s ‘to do’ list – if it is, The Pineapple is the place to go.

Originally part of the Dunsmore Estate, it was gifted to the National Trust for Scotland in 1974 and leased to the Landmark Trust who undertook its restoration. Neglected for very many years, the Pineapple proved to be in remarkably good condition for every ‘leaf’ was designed to prevent water collecting within it and damaging the stonework. The remainder of the property was very unstable and derelict.

When the two walled gardens were enclosed at Dunsmore in the mid 1700’s there was no ‘big house’ attached. They were purely used for producing a supply of fruit, vegetables and flowers to be sent to the Earl of Dunmore’s home in Argyll. It was some years later (it is thought) that the Pineapple was added as a folly and summerhouse, probably after the Earl’s return from Virginia and the Bahamas where he was Governor.

Why a pineapple? In the eighteenth century, pineapples were a rare luxury that had become associated with wealth and hospitality. They began to appear on pillars, railings and weather vanes and, indoors on fabrics and wall coverings. The building of The Pineapple was, perhaps, the grandest of all grand gestures.

Although the building is of such high quality in both its materials, cratsmanship and design it was barely recorded in contemporary writing and its designer remains unknown. One possible reason for this is that it may have been just a little too ‘over the top’ even for flamboyant Georgian taste. It is even quite probable that the Pineapple may have been painted. The doorway of the undercroft is a very accurate timber carving of Ionic pillars beyond which stone steps lead to the raised northern lawn. From this lawn there is level access to the summerhouse.

Either side of the Pineapple are two small cottages, formerly gardener’s bothys. These have been fully restored by the Landmark Trust to create holiday accomodation with living room and kitchen in one and bedrooms in the other. The north garden and the Pineapple room are for the private use of guests, the south lawn and gardens are open to the public.

To be able to grow pineapples required specialist knowledge and skills as well as additional warmth. Glasshouses flanked the south wall and were heated by the use of specially constructed hollow walls. At the foot of these, fires were lit and flues within the wall drew the heat upwards, warming the brickwork. The four decorative urns to either side of the Pineapple conceal chimneys and because of there similarity to those at Casino Marino in Dublin (to read about this extraordinary building click here), it has been suggested that the designer could be Sir William Chambers although there is no documented evidence to suggest this. At intervals on the southern side of the walls I found sliding stones which could be removed presumably to allow the heat to escape.

In 1820 William Wilkins, architect of the National Gallery in London, designed a house in the Tudor Gothick style. Dunsmore Park’s glory was, however, short-lived for by 1911 the family had left although it remained occupied until 1964 after which it was abandoned. It is now a ruin visible across the fields from the Pineapple. Another ruin, now very unstable, and also visible from the Pineapple, is the Elphinstone Tower. Of earlier origin, built about 1510, it became the family vault of the Dunmore family in 1836 with a church built alongside a few years later. This was demolished in the 1960’s. Their fascinating stories will be subjects of this blog in due course.

With so much history and beautiful scenery close by – Loch Lomond is only a short drive away – the Pineapple makes a great and intriguing place to use as a base for exploring the area. The grounds are open free to the public all year but the building is at its best during the hours when you are alone to enjoy its eccentricity and splendid isolation.